The following story is narrated to you by Brinthesere – the purple amethyst that is actually responsible for making the Greased Lightening airbourne. She apparently has quite the flair for a narrative, and further investigation will reveal this story of a conversation that took place just before the next combat to be essentially accurate. Brinthesere has imbedded herself into the heart of the main sail, becoming one with the living tree that is the ship upon which you sail.
The twinkling stars stretched out forever against the inky blackness. The Greased lightening, a ship of living wood powered by sentient stone, rocked gently in the mysterious and invisible Everbreeze of the plane in which you now live. All around the ship, soldiers and sailors stare out in quiet reverence at the strange sight, quieted also by the incipient pursuit of an enraged cleric driven mad for his desire for pre-emptive revenge.
Gaston and Shahonrazae whisper quietly at the foredeck, as they often do, unveiling their lives to each other from the different worlds they come from. Jerry practices her swordplay alone on the aft deck, for none will challenge her and her frostblade any more. Lukat is again below decks, meditating or practicing her sorcery. She is becoming quite accomplished now. Oma might be conferring with his students, or the Lightening, but most often transforms into a great Kestrel to scout out the winds before the living ship that protects them all. Methos is not to be found, imprisoning himself in the cabins below while he strives continuously to unlock the secrets of time and magic.
Amid the silence, a small girl approaches a dark drow woman, toying idly with the tip of her oft poisoned blade.
“Excuse me.” The child suddenly asks.
The Ebon lady looks down at her in surprise.
“You, child. What do you want.” The dark woman says impatiently.
“I did not see you.” The child replies.
For a moment the Drow assassin looks like she might turn away. This is just a little child, and a trifling trouble at that. Whatever thoughts the drow was entertaining seem little served in discussion with this child right now, and she looks as though she wished the younger one would turn away.
“Whatever.” The drow replies, and returns to her staring out into the darkness.
But the child, undaunted, sits up beside her on the rails. For a long time, silence is the only companion between them.
“Is it like this were you are from?” The child finally asks. “I have always liked the stars.”
The drow rolls her eyes. Perhaps a few words of conversation will placate this annoying and persistent child.
“No. Not at all.”
“What was it like?” The child asks.
“It’s… too difficult to describe.” The drown replies.
“But the sky was grey. Wasn’t it?” The child says.
The drow looks down at her in disbelief. “And who told you that?” she demands.
But the child continues to look out, taking her time in answering.
“I saw it. When I will be there. The others, they showed me where you were. But it doesn’t happen yet, I don’t think. This was in the future.”
The drow looks at her sideways. “You make no sense.” She accused.
“I know.” The child sadly sighed. “I am not from here. I come from a time where it’s all now. You can’t imagine… this… this land is strange. Things all happen in a line. But they’re not, and I see them all now. I can look into what was and will be. But not always, because it’s changing. That’s what’s so hard about it. Where I am from, it’s all now. Just one place: Now.” She sighed. “It made much more sense.”
“So where are you from?” the drow asked.
“I don’t really remember much else. But I’m there still. Oma. He will see. Lukat too, I think. Methos maybe not. There’s another two too. But I can’t tell you about them because it messes the nows’ up. I’ve learnt that. I cannot tell too much. It makes a mess of all the nows. There is only one was, and only one now, but many to be’s. Do you understand?”
The drow was silent in replying.
After a moment, the child Frangipania, coveted of the pirates, continues “Coming here was hard at first. It took a long time to put everything into words that come out one at a time.”
Still the Ebon lady was silent. Was she too busy to be bothered by this child? Or too wise to ignore the idle prattle of such an arcane curiosity. The child did have skills that were quite… useful… or at the very least… profitable.
“No.” The child replied as if answering a question. “I have no memory of where I am from. I was taken to the orphanage when I was a girl.”
“What do you mean?” The ebon lady wondered, “Is that were you came from?”
The child looked at her quietly. “Oh. Did I answer the question before you asked it again? Yes. I do that sometimes. It’s the hardest part. Like waiting till tomorrow, but sometimes that’s very scary. At least I can always keep myself safe. Almost always.”
The drow and the child stared out at the stars.
“You make no sense.” The drow stated as if she would leave.
“I think they’ll be here soon.” The child then replied. “Meas does not stand up any more. And the main sail will burn. But we’ll chase them away. I think it will be the little boat this time.”
“What are you talking about!?” The drow stated as though loosing her temper. The child watches her with wide eyes fear, and stutters her reply as though lost in a world she cannot explain to a woman who cannot understand.
“I didn’t see you.” She said nervously. “You’re not in the now. Not this now. Not any nows. I don’t understand who you are or why you’re here. But you are here. I can touch you. What are you?” The child asks.
The drow smiles knowingly, and hides her thoughts. “You have no need to fear me, child.” She replies.
The child stared at her in silence, lost in the memories of a myriad of futures.
“Who.” The drow finally asks. “Who is coming in the little boat to burn the mail sail?”
The child looked up into the sky, and sighed.
“I can’t tell you.”
“But you did tell me.” The Ebon lady replied.
Frangipania just sighs.
“When I tell them, everything changes, and I don’t know which now is real anymore.”
“Perhaps it is better that you told me. Perhaps I’m here to change the ‘now’ that you don’t like? When I see the small ship, I will protect the mail sail first. And Meas, I will send below.
“That’s not how it works, “ the child protested.
“Do you see all things how they will be?” The drow asked.
“No.” the child replied. “Only what they were before they become. Oh, I know that doesn’t make any sense! You people are so strange!” she cries.
But the drow pated her comfortingly on the head.
“I know what it’s like to have secrets you cannot tell, not because you can’t, but because if you did, nobody would understand…”
“I thought so.” Frangipania smiled.
But then the smile faded. “But why is your skin so grey?” Frangipania asks the Ebon lady.
Ebon does not smile, and perhaps before she can stop the unconscious thought her hand is upon her dagger in an instant, her eyes wild in anger and fear. But before she can react, before the assassin can put into any action whatever mysterious thought lead her to reach for her weapon, Frangipania looks skyward and gasps.
“The small one.” She stated.
The Ebon lady looked up, there, emerging from the stars and cloaked by the darkness, is another flying vessel half the size of the Lightening. Upon its main deck, a huge cannon rests, arcane fire gathering in its maw.
“Incomming!” Shouted the Ebon lady. The lookout, so used to sailing on oceans, or too sleepy to be wise, did not see the enemy approaching.
There is panic on deck, and the child slips away from the Drow before she can gather her wits. In the ensuing panic, Ebon spots a lone character walking across the main deck, looking about for an enemy he has not yet seen.
Looking about, standing in a direct line between the mainsail, and the cannon.
“Meas!” Ebon screamed in desperation. “Get down! Look out!”
He paused then. He looked where she was pointing. He was only a druid, and had no idea of how to deal with danger, how to jump when he was told. He had to see the danger for himself.
Had he not paused to see what she was pointing at he might have even walked out of harms way, or at least turned it into a glancing blow.
The first blast from the fire cannon was its most deadly. It seared the mainsail of the Lightening with a terrible pain too exquisite to define, but she had no voice to scream with. She had never felt such pain before. In a moment of weakness, she almost wished for death rather than violence, and would have entirely surrendered if they had required it.
The battle went as follows;
Saturday, July 31, 2010
Tuesday, July 20, 2010
Player handout : Pirates of the Eversea
Overview
The Eversea is a vast expanse of open space, littered with literally hundreds of thousands of little islands of earth floating effortlessly in the darkness. Most are sunless rocks about the size of a house, but occasionally one is large or magical enough to sponsor its own light. There is no need for air, it seems to be everywhere, and gravity almost always points down towards Profundum. Almost. Far too often strangers and enemies are made to walk the plank and find themselves eventually falling sideways in invisible currents of gravity and air to land in foreboding, and forbidden places.
The largest of the floating islands are the five continents, and the largest of those is claimed by the Sultancy. Legend tells that a thousand years ago every single island was visited and claimed by the ancient Tris, but no-one has heard of what happened to them in all that time.
To be fair, not all natives of the Eversea are pirates, and there is next to no sea in the Eversea.
Government
A pirate captain is the law on their own boat and makes all rules, fair and fowl, according to whim and circumstance. Often each pirate vessel will swears fealty to a pirate lord, who usually holds an island or two as a base of power, and can command other captains on their own vessel (as long as they have more soldiers and a bigger boat to back it up with). Only occasionally does a pirate gain enough land and ships to be called a great pirate lord, and only while they are alive - their holding tends to be divided up among heirs who must earn dominance on their own. There are seven great pirate lords at this time, of all kinds of races and genders. This changes every few years, as even immortal pirate lords (such as undead) are eventually brought down by the constant competition among them.
Once every hundred generations or so a particularly powerful pirate lord holds such influence over all the other pirate lords though cunning and persuasion as to be effectively an emperor. Twice in their history the pirate armada has taken sail to the terror of all. Usually, though, there is no strict alliance between factions and the largest unit of government is the boat they are sailing on. There is no honour among thieves.
Cressellia however, the largest city, is a neutral meeting ground for the pirates, and no one pirate lord risks claiming it as their own.
Char Blackthroat – Human. Rogue (polite, cunning, evil) gluttony
Lady Gwendelain – elven arcane trickster (beautiful fem fatales) envy
Hok – orc raider (wanton destroyer) greed
Barrum Stealhammer – dwarven rogue (tyrant) sloth
Sly – Halfling assassin (pragmatic) lust
Ming Wun Fu – githzeri monk (very evil.) wrath
Man Luck – gnome bard (comic relief, but wise, lucky, and kinda helpful. Generally treated as ‘harmless’ by other pirate lords who grudgingly appreciate his cunning and levelling influence.) pride
Geography
Pirates are actually very few in number, but several small towns of scum and villainy do exist. They live scattered on the (hundred) thousand floating islands of the Eversea. Some are no more that a building or two, hoping to go unnoticed and hidden far from trade routs.
Points of interest:
Scholars generally agree that the thousands islands of the Eversea were once a single world, blown apart by some enormous force and swept into this tiny pocket plane. While history records the Eversea was like this prior to the Tris, most blame the Tris anyway.
The whole area, for convenience, is divided into the great outer circle, and the much much smaller inner circle where the vast majority of the population live. The outer circle is essentially blank, except for some points of legend such hidden thrones of the Gods. The outer circle objects follow very erratic orbits, some none at all.
The thousand islands (actually hundreds of thousands, with countless millions of tiny rocks, chunks of dirt, and specks of dust) of the inner circle slowly rotate around the maelstrom, shepherded by the five great continents in a counter clockwise direction.
The maelstrom is an enormous storm of Everwinds at the base of the Eversea, spinning upwards. Some say to ride the maelstrom is to escape the pocket plane forever, if the trip doesn’t kill you.
The outer circle from above;
And from the side;
+ve and –ve planes lie on the north and south sides of the great circle respectively. Celestium (heaven) and Profundum (hell) are at the top and bottom, with a great ring of Aboretum (neutal) right in the middle. Needless to say, most of the space is considered profoundly empty. It is an eight year journey in the fastest skyships ever imagined to cross the Eversea, most ships aren’t 1/100th as fast.
The outer circle can be extremely difficult to navigate, using only the tiny specks of light from the inner circle the only obvious features. Special compasses for detecting Celestium, Arboretum, Profundum, the energy planes and Malestrom also exist, but are excruciatingly rare.
Top down map of the inner circle, including five governing continents, is displayed below;
Water is rare, except for the magically sustained ocean ring (not fit for drinking), and the beautiful by dangerous water continent Oceania where the abolyths currently hold rule. Getting a drink can be extremely dangerous, most mariners never return, and water is at times at a great expense. The demons of Accursed love fire, Iceland undead life on a land made of metal, and the Beastmen enjoy a forested land filled with dinosaurs.
Three month journey from side to side.
Military
Again, almost everyone, but a unified force is highly unlikely.
Daily life
With no strict time determined by sunlight, pirates live life to the schedule set by their captain and look out warily all the time. Families tend to live on the islands in towns or settle on the continents if they can break away from the tyranny of their pirate overlords. There is honest work on the islands, or dishonest work on the Everbreeze as the pirates take to plunder and searching for lost treasures (usually of the Tris) among the islands. They usually avoid the well organised and powerful Sultancy, and the other well defended governing continents.
Pirates believe themselves to be, mostly, descendants from ancient pirates who fled to the realm to escape persecution millennia ago, and then forgot how to get back. Some of them trace their bloodlines back to the Tris, but they are very very rare. Just as rare are adventurous and foolhardy souls who have left one of the governing continents to attempt a life out on the Everbreeze.
Religion
While not typically religious, deities of thieving or chance are common. A few honest but of necessity poor shrines do exist to benevolent deities in the hope of redeeming the people.
Crime and punishment
Whatever the person in charge decides is a crime, basically. It’s chaotic neutral at best.
Cultural oddities
• Pirates are very interested in gold, and can be persuaded quite easily by its lure.
• Pirates are also swayed by good speeches, expert dancing, and other charismatic performances.
• Above all, the pirates value skill – running on rope, balancing, tumbling, juggling etc, and are very impressed by feats of dexterity.
• Most of them are in debt to someone for something.
• Most pirates aren’t savage, allowing those plundered to live. Savage pirates are usually hunted down by alliances of other pirates, ironically.
• Also ironically, pirates value keeping ones word. Sadly, they don’t think anyone can actually keep up that high ideal and lie and betray each other quite often.
The Eversea is a vast expanse of open space, littered with literally hundreds of thousands of little islands of earth floating effortlessly in the darkness. Most are sunless rocks about the size of a house, but occasionally one is large or magical enough to sponsor its own light. There is no need for air, it seems to be everywhere, and gravity almost always points down towards Profundum. Almost. Far too often strangers and enemies are made to walk the plank and find themselves eventually falling sideways in invisible currents of gravity and air to land in foreboding, and forbidden places.
The largest of the floating islands are the five continents, and the largest of those is claimed by the Sultancy. Legend tells that a thousand years ago every single island was visited and claimed by the ancient Tris, but no-one has heard of what happened to them in all that time.
To be fair, not all natives of the Eversea are pirates, and there is next to no sea in the Eversea.
Government
A pirate captain is the law on their own boat and makes all rules, fair and fowl, according to whim and circumstance. Often each pirate vessel will swears fealty to a pirate lord, who usually holds an island or two as a base of power, and can command other captains on their own vessel (as long as they have more soldiers and a bigger boat to back it up with). Only occasionally does a pirate gain enough land and ships to be called a great pirate lord, and only while they are alive - their holding tends to be divided up among heirs who must earn dominance on their own. There are seven great pirate lords at this time, of all kinds of races and genders. This changes every few years, as even immortal pirate lords (such as undead) are eventually brought down by the constant competition among them.
Once every hundred generations or so a particularly powerful pirate lord holds such influence over all the other pirate lords though cunning and persuasion as to be effectively an emperor. Twice in their history the pirate armada has taken sail to the terror of all. Usually, though, there is no strict alliance between factions and the largest unit of government is the boat they are sailing on. There is no honour among thieves.
Cressellia however, the largest city, is a neutral meeting ground for the pirates, and no one pirate lord risks claiming it as their own.
Char Blackthroat – Human. Rogue (polite, cunning, evil) gluttony
Lady Gwendelain – elven arcane trickster (beautiful fem fatales) envy
Hok – orc raider (wanton destroyer) greed
Barrum Stealhammer – dwarven rogue (tyrant) sloth
Sly – Halfling assassin (pragmatic) lust
Ming Wun Fu – githzeri monk (very evil.) wrath
Man Luck – gnome bard (comic relief, but wise, lucky, and kinda helpful. Generally treated as ‘harmless’ by other pirate lords who grudgingly appreciate his cunning and levelling influence.) pride
Geography
Pirates are actually very few in number, but several small towns of scum and villainy do exist. They live scattered on the (hundred) thousand floating islands of the Eversea. Some are no more that a building or two, hoping to go unnoticed and hidden far from trade routs.
Points of interest:
Scholars generally agree that the thousands islands of the Eversea were once a single world, blown apart by some enormous force and swept into this tiny pocket plane. While history records the Eversea was like this prior to the Tris, most blame the Tris anyway.
The whole area, for convenience, is divided into the great outer circle, and the much much smaller inner circle where the vast majority of the population live. The outer circle is essentially blank, except for some points of legend such hidden thrones of the Gods. The outer circle objects follow very erratic orbits, some none at all.
The thousand islands (actually hundreds of thousands, with countless millions of tiny rocks, chunks of dirt, and specks of dust) of the inner circle slowly rotate around the maelstrom, shepherded by the five great continents in a counter clockwise direction.
The maelstrom is an enormous storm of Everwinds at the base of the Eversea, spinning upwards. Some say to ride the maelstrom is to escape the pocket plane forever, if the trip doesn’t kill you.
The outer circle from above;
And from the side;
+ve and –ve planes lie on the north and south sides of the great circle respectively. Celestium (heaven) and Profundum (hell) are at the top and bottom, with a great ring of Aboretum (neutal) right in the middle. Needless to say, most of the space is considered profoundly empty. It is an eight year journey in the fastest skyships ever imagined to cross the Eversea, most ships aren’t 1/100th as fast.
The outer circle can be extremely difficult to navigate, using only the tiny specks of light from the inner circle the only obvious features. Special compasses for detecting Celestium, Arboretum, Profundum, the energy planes and Malestrom also exist, but are excruciatingly rare.
Top down map of the inner circle, including five governing continents, is displayed below;
Water is rare, except for the magically sustained ocean ring (not fit for drinking), and the beautiful by dangerous water continent Oceania where the abolyths currently hold rule. Getting a drink can be extremely dangerous, most mariners never return, and water is at times at a great expense. The demons of Accursed love fire, Iceland undead life on a land made of metal, and the Beastmen enjoy a forested land filled with dinosaurs.
Three month journey from side to side.
Military
Again, almost everyone, but a unified force is highly unlikely.
Daily life
With no strict time determined by sunlight, pirates live life to the schedule set by their captain and look out warily all the time. Families tend to live on the islands in towns or settle on the continents if they can break away from the tyranny of their pirate overlords. There is honest work on the islands, or dishonest work on the Everbreeze as the pirates take to plunder and searching for lost treasures (usually of the Tris) among the islands. They usually avoid the well organised and powerful Sultancy, and the other well defended governing continents.
Pirates believe themselves to be, mostly, descendants from ancient pirates who fled to the realm to escape persecution millennia ago, and then forgot how to get back. Some of them trace their bloodlines back to the Tris, but they are very very rare. Just as rare are adventurous and foolhardy souls who have left one of the governing continents to attempt a life out on the Everbreeze.
Religion
While not typically religious, deities of thieving or chance are common. A few honest but of necessity poor shrines do exist to benevolent deities in the hope of redeeming the people.
Crime and punishment
Whatever the person in charge decides is a crime, basically. It’s chaotic neutral at best.
Cultural oddities
• Pirates are very interested in gold, and can be persuaded quite easily by its lure.
• Pirates are also swayed by good speeches, expert dancing, and other charismatic performances.
• Above all, the pirates value skill – running on rope, balancing, tumbling, juggling etc, and are very impressed by feats of dexterity.
• Most of them are in debt to someone for something.
• Most pirates aren’t savage, allowing those plundered to live. Savage pirates are usually hunted down by alliances of other pirates, ironically.
• Also ironically, pirates value keeping ones word. Sadly, they don’t think anyone can actually keep up that high ideal and lie and betray each other quite often.
Friday, July 2, 2010
In character side quests part 2
Suddenly a shockwave of silver veins tremble across Dzerog-Mak’s usually jet black surface, and for a moment there is a stunned silence in the room. Just as fighting is about to resume Dzerog-Mak shouts “Stop!” and his remaining priests fall to the floor, weapons clattering to the ground. For a moment, there is silence.
“I must… contemplate this new wisdom.” Dzerog-mak explains.
The priests refuse to fight you now, and politely ask you to leave. Perhaps you do, perhaps you don’t, perhaps you are willing to wait the week it takes for Dzerog to contemplate the direction his life has taken these past 300 years. But in any event, on the seventh day, major changes take place.
Dzerog-Mak immediately makes full confession of all his attempts at insurrection, fully refunding thousands of coins forced from the hands of innocents in recent times. He betrays the confidences of dozens of spies he has placed to cause insurrection and contention as far as the offices in the white tower. The Shadow guild, only one of several major organisations that had fallen under his sway, is official disbanded, though few are fools enough to believe this is a permanent change.
The repercussions of this are immense as those formally supported in the corruption are brought to light. Criminals are returned to their sentencing, and thieving activities greatly curtailed. A new era has begun, where Dzerog-mak and his breakers serve the law in Lauresia instead of seeking to become the law, for none had suspected just how powerful the Mirror quartz had really become…
As for Jessica, none can escape the change she initiates as well. Healed by your gratitude, she is renewed with a sense of purpose. No longer taken for granted by her children, the banded haematite becomes forthright and assertive in overseeing that all fulfil their responsibilities to their community. She calls to account many who have fallen behind in their promised duties to their people, and initiates several new policies for seeing the city is properly cleansed, that people are polite, and that door are properly shut after use. Most of all, Jessica enshrines the use of gratitude among all citizens as a means of restoring hope and peace to a people recovering from their own fear, which expressed itself as the riots.
But there is still much work to be done.
Oma
Ebon is a great asset to the burgeoning ‘Oma’s revolution army’ with an inate sense of mistrust and deep understanding of the art of trechery. She exposes a novice spy in a single week, placed there by the druidic circle to oversee your activities and report on your teachings. Several new people have begun to attend your seminars, commoners such as coopers and scullery maids for the most part…
Gaston
Schazonraze turns up, asking to speak to you. She tells you that Sunali is bring driven to madness to find and slay you and your people, and that you all must flee before he finds Toronto’ and destroys it forever.
Lukat.
Hey, no family involvement today… how weird…
Gerry
The thief approaches you through the crowded tavern.
“I haves some information you might find… interesting. That hag whose got yr stuff? Seems she keeps an old warehouse down in brown town, I’ll give you the address. Seems there might be a whole covey of them, they do some kind of ritual, you’ll need to head there at night. Watch yr back though, lotsa folks going against them witches every few years or so… never heard anything from any of them ever since…”
PS Level up everyone! Welcome to level 8!
“I must… contemplate this new wisdom.” Dzerog-mak explains.
The priests refuse to fight you now, and politely ask you to leave. Perhaps you do, perhaps you don’t, perhaps you are willing to wait the week it takes for Dzerog to contemplate the direction his life has taken these past 300 years. But in any event, on the seventh day, major changes take place.
Dzerog-Mak immediately makes full confession of all his attempts at insurrection, fully refunding thousands of coins forced from the hands of innocents in recent times. He betrays the confidences of dozens of spies he has placed to cause insurrection and contention as far as the offices in the white tower. The Shadow guild, only one of several major organisations that had fallen under his sway, is official disbanded, though few are fools enough to believe this is a permanent change.
The repercussions of this are immense as those formally supported in the corruption are brought to light. Criminals are returned to their sentencing, and thieving activities greatly curtailed. A new era has begun, where Dzerog-mak and his breakers serve the law in Lauresia instead of seeking to become the law, for none had suspected just how powerful the Mirror quartz had really become…
As for Jessica, none can escape the change she initiates as well. Healed by your gratitude, she is renewed with a sense of purpose. No longer taken for granted by her children, the banded haematite becomes forthright and assertive in overseeing that all fulfil their responsibilities to their community. She calls to account many who have fallen behind in their promised duties to their people, and initiates several new policies for seeing the city is properly cleansed, that people are polite, and that door are properly shut after use. Most of all, Jessica enshrines the use of gratitude among all citizens as a means of restoring hope and peace to a people recovering from their own fear, which expressed itself as the riots.
But there is still much work to be done.
Oma
Ebon is a great asset to the burgeoning ‘Oma’s revolution army’ with an inate sense of mistrust and deep understanding of the art of trechery. She exposes a novice spy in a single week, placed there by the druidic circle to oversee your activities and report on your teachings. Several new people have begun to attend your seminars, commoners such as coopers and scullery maids for the most part…
Gaston
Schazonraze turns up, asking to speak to you. She tells you that Sunali is bring driven to madness to find and slay you and your people, and that you all must flee before he finds Toronto’ and destroys it forever.
Lukat.
Hey, no family involvement today… how weird…
Gerry
The thief approaches you through the crowded tavern.
“I haves some information you might find… interesting. That hag whose got yr stuff? Seems she keeps an old warehouse down in brown town, I’ll give you the address. Seems there might be a whole covey of them, they do some kind of ritual, you’ll need to head there at night. Watch yr back though, lotsa folks going against them witches every few years or so… never heard anything from any of them ever since…”
PS Level up everyone! Welcome to level 8!
Monday, June 14, 2010
character quests part 1
Omah-
It has been another cold night in the gutter. There has been no sight or sound of pig-dog, thought you have searched incessantly the day before. You are suddenly awoken as Alhazred the mad begins to warn all of inevitable death by clams, when shadows flick unexpectantly across the rising sun.
“Ohma! I don’t’ believe it! Not the great Ohma!” A young adults voice exasperates in strained adulation, “Lima ! I’ve finally found him, it’s Ohma!”
“Ohma?” A young female replies, “not the gutter!” She states, “we heard what happened. Everyone in the lower echelons of the druidic circle are talking about it, though all the elders are hush hush. It’s a total conspiracy !”
They pull you to your feet, a young pair of half elves, barely neophytes in the druidic circle.
“I’m Meas,” the young man says, “And this is my sister Lima. We’ve been searching all over for you!”
“Yes!” Says Lima excitedly, “We’re leaving the druidic circle. We heard about the rubbish they put you though, and that you’d rebelled against their ancient and stuffy ways to create your own form of druidism, and we want in!”
“Absolutely!” Meas exclaims, “here, look at this. I rescued your most recent paper, 'Cross-bio-illogicality in a non-Tolkien-derivative’, from the recycle heap and have taped it all tighter, look, I even stayed up all night and wrote out a copy by hand. Master Ohma, it is a work of unparalled intellectual criticism! A timeless masterpiece! Those dinosaurs don’t know what they’re talking about.”
“It’s not like that and you know it!” Lima says emphatically
“Oh, not this…” Meas protests, but his sister cuts him off.
“It’s a conspiracy man!” She tells you, “Someone high up in the government of the city wants to discredit you and all your work, they’ve bought out all the high druids and are suppressing all your research! They even banned discussions of your treatise “Extra-Metropolitan Flora & Fauna”. In druid school, and it is a work of pure genious!”
“Well, at least It’s better than “Extra-Lauresian Canine du corps and their resistance to the Ancient Druidic technique for Universal Animal Calm” Meas says, and they both have to agree to that.
“But notice how it all started once you released the 'deleterious effects of mind-expanding substances on academic processes'. Maybe you ticked someone off?” Meas suggests.
“No, this goes right to the top, man!” Lima emphatically insists. “No master druid could seriously reject that level of scholarship.”
Meas brushes his sister aside. “Anyway, we’re here to help. Wendelmane from the junior limb of Experimental Druidism and Micro-fungus tipped us off that you’d finally had it with the system and were breaking free, and you can count us in!”
“Yeah dude!” Lima encourages, “Down with the system! Viva la revolution! I know this really great corner for getting the message to the people, what a rush!” And at this, Lima pulls a harp from her robes, “And I know these songs, and can play along to help get peoples attention! Look, I’ve made on up already;
How many times must we ask to know
While the druids keep knowledge from our hands?
Yes and how many times must we wait in ignorance,
While imprisoned in this stone walled land?
The answer my friend, is blowing in the wind,
The answer –
She is suddenly interrupted by yet another man, screaming you name. It is Anton, his hair wild and his clothes torn.
“Ohma, Ohma! That the Mother I found you! I’m sorry, I’m just so sorry! Pig dog, she was just… you just rewrote the book on what’s possible I had to try it for myself… now she’s dead… and… and…”
“What did you do!” Lima shouts.
“Daisy was his greatest work!” Meas shouts, “he even measured the vector of her tail-curve, the floppiness factor of her ears, and the concentration and bizarre variety of the so-called 'gross spots' under her chin. If you’ve harmed her, I’ll, I’ll – “
Suddenly, from far down the streets there is a mighty crash. People run terrified from the approaching commotion, and their screams are suddenly overpowered by a mighty, bestial roar.
rrrRRRRROOOOOOAAAARRRRR!!!!!!!!
“I’m so sorry.” Marcus begs, falling to the pavement. “It seemed like such a good idea at the time… Fufi… you remember Fufi? My childhood animal companion, the one I’ve had since before I could talk… well… it turns out that she might have been a little angrier at me than I anticipated for pulling on her ears and sticking things were I shouldn’t have… and when I combined her brain with the body of another beast, her repressed anger resurfaced and she’d gone on a blood thirsty rampage that can only be sated with my destruction!!!”
From much nearer now, a large cart full of apples is thrown high into the air and right through the front of some houses. With encroaching dread something huge rounds the corner, a hideous beast stairs right at the quartet of druids standing around in the street, and it lets out a final roar of terror and hate.
Fufi will have her revenge!
Lukat -
With the final, fatal blow, miraculously Zakaria does not die. You raise you weapon to deliver another finishing blow when suddenly a loud and noble voice rings out with such authority it immediately forces all in the room to comply;
“STOP!”
It is her husband, Maszalan.
He is not dressed as a cultist, nor even as a drow, but as a fighter in a simple yellow robe, armed with a mace.
“My husband!” Zakaria croons vengefully, struggling on the edge of death, “You will avenge my death, no? You will slay those who stood against our goddesses wishes?”
He walks up to her, looking at you all in sympathy. There is no hint of violence, jealously or even revenge written on his face.
“No Zakaria. This is the end. I will not.”
“What?” She states incredulously, cradling her wounds. “You swore undying love and servitude to me! You… you are my husband! You owe it to me as a drow…”
“I’m sorry Zakaria,” and here his voice does take on a hint of great sadness, “I really did try! I really did want you to be happy! When you were young, when I first heard your voice crying out to be free of the spider goddesses tyranny, to study magic and not her dark faith … I wanted so much to help you. We all wanted to help you – “
“What are you talking about madman!” Zakaria screams, vainly clutching at her wounds to stave off death a minute more, “I ORDER you to kill my grandchild and her friends immediately!”
But Maszalan does not move.
“She is my grandchild too.” He reminds her. “And you promised to protect your children, and your family, a long time ago. Do you remember that? Do you remember our wedding when we fled the Spider Queens tyranny long ago to elope? I remember Zakaria. I remember it all.” He says, tears pouring down his face. “We took you out of the spider queen’s web. I risked it all to help you. I risked heaven to help the Drow become free of the spider queen, and still when you heart fills with fear and you mind with pride you turn to her tyranny again – like a dog to she that whips her!”
“Maszalan,” She says, cunning to the last, “I’m sorry, yes, I will return to my people. I will deny my vows to the spider queen – “
“No, you will not.” He says. “I know you better than that Zakaria.”
She looks in his eyes then, but knows his words to be true, and then she can no longer hide the truth from herself. Suddenly, she collapses, and Maszalan runs to her side.
“Then this is how it will end?” She says weakly.
“This is how it ends.” He replies sadly.
“But why,” She pleads, “… why did you marry me? Why did you stay with me, even now, at the very end?”
For a moment, he pauses, then allows a hundred years of illusions to fade away. His skin turns from black to purest white, and hair from white to purest gold. The years fade instantly from his aged skin. A pair of feathery wings unfolds gently from his back and his body begins to glow with an inner power that makes it difficult to look at him.
“You…” Zakaria says, her voice failing her in wonder and understanding.
“Zakaria.” He states in a voice rich with love and devotion.
It is the last sound she ever hears…
It has been another cold night in the gutter. There has been no sight or sound of pig-dog, thought you have searched incessantly the day before. You are suddenly awoken as Alhazred the mad begins to warn all of inevitable death by clams, when shadows flick unexpectantly across the rising sun.
“Ohma! I don’t’ believe it! Not the great Ohma!” A young adults voice exasperates in strained adulation, “Lima ! I’ve finally found him, it’s Ohma!”
“Ohma?” A young female replies, “not the gutter!” She states, “we heard what happened. Everyone in the lower echelons of the druidic circle are talking about it, though all the elders are hush hush. It’s a total conspiracy !”
They pull you to your feet, a young pair of half elves, barely neophytes in the druidic circle.
“I’m Meas,” the young man says, “And this is my sister Lima. We’ve been searching all over for you!”
“Yes!” Says Lima excitedly, “We’re leaving the druidic circle. We heard about the rubbish they put you though, and that you’d rebelled against their ancient and stuffy ways to create your own form of druidism, and we want in!”
“Absolutely!” Meas exclaims, “here, look at this. I rescued your most recent paper, 'Cross-bio-illogicality in a non-Tolkien-derivative’, from the recycle heap and have taped it all tighter, look, I even stayed up all night and wrote out a copy by hand. Master Ohma, it is a work of unparalled intellectual criticism! A timeless masterpiece! Those dinosaurs don’t know what they’re talking about.”
“It’s not like that and you know it!” Lima says emphatically
“Oh, not this…” Meas protests, but his sister cuts him off.
“It’s a conspiracy man!” She tells you, “Someone high up in the government of the city wants to discredit you and all your work, they’ve bought out all the high druids and are suppressing all your research! They even banned discussions of your treatise “Extra-Metropolitan Flora & Fauna”. In druid school, and it is a work of pure genious!”
“Well, at least It’s better than “Extra-Lauresian Canine du corps and their resistance to the Ancient Druidic technique for Universal Animal Calm” Meas says, and they both have to agree to that.
“But notice how it all started once you released the 'deleterious effects of mind-expanding substances on academic processes'. Maybe you ticked someone off?” Meas suggests.
“No, this goes right to the top, man!” Lima emphatically insists. “No master druid could seriously reject that level of scholarship.”
Meas brushes his sister aside. “Anyway, we’re here to help. Wendelmane from the junior limb of Experimental Druidism and Micro-fungus tipped us off that you’d finally had it with the system and were breaking free, and you can count us in!”
“Yeah dude!” Lima encourages, “Down with the system! Viva la revolution! I know this really great corner for getting the message to the people, what a rush!” And at this, Lima pulls a harp from her robes, “And I know these songs, and can play along to help get peoples attention! Look, I’ve made on up already;
How many times must we ask to know
While the druids keep knowledge from our hands?
Yes and how many times must we wait in ignorance,
While imprisoned in this stone walled land?
The answer my friend, is blowing in the wind,
The answer –
She is suddenly interrupted by yet another man, screaming you name. It is Anton, his hair wild and his clothes torn.
“Ohma, Ohma! That the Mother I found you! I’m sorry, I’m just so sorry! Pig dog, she was just… you just rewrote the book on what’s possible I had to try it for myself… now she’s dead… and… and…”
“What did you do!” Lima shouts.
“Daisy was his greatest work!” Meas shouts, “he even measured the vector of her tail-curve, the floppiness factor of her ears, and the concentration and bizarre variety of the so-called 'gross spots' under her chin. If you’ve harmed her, I’ll, I’ll – “
Suddenly, from far down the streets there is a mighty crash. People run terrified from the approaching commotion, and their screams are suddenly overpowered by a mighty, bestial roar.
rrrRRRRROOOOOOAAAARRRRR!!!!!!!!
“I’m so sorry.” Marcus begs, falling to the pavement. “It seemed like such a good idea at the time… Fufi… you remember Fufi? My childhood animal companion, the one I’ve had since before I could talk… well… it turns out that she might have been a little angrier at me than I anticipated for pulling on her ears and sticking things were I shouldn’t have… and when I combined her brain with the body of another beast, her repressed anger resurfaced and she’d gone on a blood thirsty rampage that can only be sated with my destruction!!!”
From much nearer now, a large cart full of apples is thrown high into the air and right through the front of some houses. With encroaching dread something huge rounds the corner, a hideous beast stairs right at the quartet of druids standing around in the street, and it lets out a final roar of terror and hate.
Fufi will have her revenge!
Lukat -
With the final, fatal blow, miraculously Zakaria does not die. You raise you weapon to deliver another finishing blow when suddenly a loud and noble voice rings out with such authority it immediately forces all in the room to comply;
“STOP!”
It is her husband, Maszalan.
He is not dressed as a cultist, nor even as a drow, but as a fighter in a simple yellow robe, armed with a mace.
“My husband!” Zakaria croons vengefully, struggling on the edge of death, “You will avenge my death, no? You will slay those who stood against our goddesses wishes?”
He walks up to her, looking at you all in sympathy. There is no hint of violence, jealously or even revenge written on his face.
“No Zakaria. This is the end. I will not.”
“What?” She states incredulously, cradling her wounds. “You swore undying love and servitude to me! You… you are my husband! You owe it to me as a drow…”
“I’m sorry Zakaria,” and here his voice does take on a hint of great sadness, “I really did try! I really did want you to be happy! When you were young, when I first heard your voice crying out to be free of the spider goddesses tyranny, to study magic and not her dark faith … I wanted so much to help you. We all wanted to help you – “
“What are you talking about madman!” Zakaria screams, vainly clutching at her wounds to stave off death a minute more, “I ORDER you to kill my grandchild and her friends immediately!”
But Maszalan does not move.
“She is my grandchild too.” He reminds her. “And you promised to protect your children, and your family, a long time ago. Do you remember that? Do you remember our wedding when we fled the Spider Queens tyranny long ago to elope? I remember Zakaria. I remember it all.” He says, tears pouring down his face. “We took you out of the spider queen’s web. I risked it all to help you. I risked heaven to help the Drow become free of the spider queen, and still when you heart fills with fear and you mind with pride you turn to her tyranny again – like a dog to she that whips her!”
“Maszalan,” She says, cunning to the last, “I’m sorry, yes, I will return to my people. I will deny my vows to the spider queen – “
“No, you will not.” He says. “I know you better than that Zakaria.”
She looks in his eyes then, but knows his words to be true, and then she can no longer hide the truth from herself. Suddenly, she collapses, and Maszalan runs to her side.
“Then this is how it will end?” She says weakly.
“This is how it ends.” He replies sadly.
“But why,” She pleads, “… why did you marry me? Why did you stay with me, even now, at the very end?”
For a moment, he pauses, then allows a hundred years of illusions to fade away. His skin turns from black to purest white, and hair from white to purest gold. The years fade instantly from his aged skin. A pair of feathery wings unfolds gently from his back and his body begins to glow with an inner power that makes it difficult to look at him.
“You…” Zakaria says, her voice failing her in wonder and understanding.
“Zakaria.” He states in a voice rich with love and devotion.
It is the last sound she ever hears…
Friday, June 4, 2010
Player handout: Creatures and culture: The Savage Warlords of the Shattered lands.
For the first time in 17 years, the hated assassins of the knife are once again rulers of the brutal warlords of the shattered lands. Gribkalla bloodshirt, kobold clad head, makes all the PC’s honoured of the knifes, which has the following benefits.
- you may bask in the light of the fallen star, Kucha haka, for a day, which grants you a temporary +2 inherent bonus to strength for the next week each time you bask.
- A special weapon or magical item (as determined in game)
- bards may take ‘intimidating song’ (similar to the Haka)
- you are given a tiny mote of Orizon crystal from the Kucha Haka, which can be used to;
o power up a new crystal (purple amethyst, like Scooby)
o overpower the Greased lightening (get it ready to be a bigger boat)
o bolster Lauresia’s defences (with Metho’s recent research, this will be used to greater effect than was previously possible)
o make another floating island for the inhabitants of the city
Overview
The shattered land is a broken and dusty wasteland that juts unexpectedly from the edge of the grasslands, cutting a huge crevice along what one might have been rolling hills of the skylings. Now it is filled with battle lusting orcs, grimlocks, and countless other savages everyone would much rather ignore, but are so dug into their dark abode that none yet have managed to tame their savage lands – though they have tried.
Government
Power is the first law of government – the strong rule.
Family age the second law – the older has right to rule (unless the younger can overpower or slay them)
Officially the Sultancy ignored the shattered lands, considering them cursed, and ignores the potential for a drawn out battle with a skilled and experienced force. The constant infighting is the only thing preventing the shattered lands from attacking the rest of the Sultancy. They would not do well, however, outside their cursed abode.
Visitors to the Shattered lands are persecuted till death until the subscribe to one of the thirteen clans, at which point they are allowed a little security when travelling for fear of starting a war, which happens several times a year anyway. Each clan has brutal initiation rituals, ridged hierarchy, and strict laws. Each clan wars for dominance and resources, and the ‘king’ (called the “Hak-cha”) is the clan leader of the dominant tribe.
Clan dominance is decided by how close the clan lands come to Kucha haka, the sacred site, where a meteorite crashed down millennia ago and still lies, imbuing locals with exceptional strength and revelatory visions. The clan head of the dominant tribe is Hak-cha, which is decided by the victor of three contests – physical strength, victory in battle and strategy in war.
The clans are (listed in order of power);
1. Bloodbrood. Chaotic evil. orcs
2. Veil. Ogre mages and slaves
3. Path. Beholders.
4. Scale. Chromatic Dragonspawn.
5. Sword. Humans
6. Shadow. drow
7. Axe. dwarves
8. Slime. hobgoblins and allies
9. Claw. lycanthropes
10. Shoal. The undead
11. Knifes. Assasins. Kobolds
12. Dread. Evil fey (pixies, satyrs, dryads etc)
13. Lost. Abberations. Gnarks, gricks and occasional umberhulk.
Geography
Cavernous. Lots of dragons.
Military
Everyone.
Daily life
Wake up, eat, fight, eat, fight, eat, argue, fight, sleep.
Religion
The people of the War lords worship battle, violence and war. There is no option for death but to die in war, as disease or old age are terrible dishonours. Various cults (they’re not like churches) grow up around weapons and the Gods who exemplify that weapon. Their training is legendary.
Their version of heaven is external war.
Crime and punishment
Whatever the person in charge decides is a crime, basically. It’s chaotic neutral at best.
Cultural oddities
• Politeness is considered very rude. All requests must be phrased in the future tense with a steady voice (not shouting) and without a please or thankyou.
• You are only considered to own what you can keep a hold of. If someone steal or takes something from you, they are considered to deserve it more than you.
• The local language (Shattered lands) has no word for ‘hello’, but instead use ‘success’. The word for ‘please’ is ‘I beg for my life and surrender unconditionally’. The word for ‘thankyou’ is ‘try that again and you will die.’
- you may bask in the light of the fallen star, Kucha haka, for a day, which grants you a temporary +2 inherent bonus to strength for the next week each time you bask.
- A special weapon or magical item (as determined in game)
- bards may take ‘intimidating song’ (similar to the Haka)
- you are given a tiny mote of Orizon crystal from the Kucha Haka, which can be used to;
o power up a new crystal (purple amethyst, like Scooby)
o overpower the Greased lightening (get it ready to be a bigger boat)
o bolster Lauresia’s defences (with Metho’s recent research, this will be used to greater effect than was previously possible)
o make another floating island for the inhabitants of the city
Overview
The shattered land is a broken and dusty wasteland that juts unexpectedly from the edge of the grasslands, cutting a huge crevice along what one might have been rolling hills of the skylings. Now it is filled with battle lusting orcs, grimlocks, and countless other savages everyone would much rather ignore, but are so dug into their dark abode that none yet have managed to tame their savage lands – though they have tried.
Government
Power is the first law of government – the strong rule.
Family age the second law – the older has right to rule (unless the younger can overpower or slay them)
Officially the Sultancy ignored the shattered lands, considering them cursed, and ignores the potential for a drawn out battle with a skilled and experienced force. The constant infighting is the only thing preventing the shattered lands from attacking the rest of the Sultancy. They would not do well, however, outside their cursed abode.
Visitors to the Shattered lands are persecuted till death until the subscribe to one of the thirteen clans, at which point they are allowed a little security when travelling for fear of starting a war, which happens several times a year anyway. Each clan has brutal initiation rituals, ridged hierarchy, and strict laws. Each clan wars for dominance and resources, and the ‘king’ (called the “Hak-cha”) is the clan leader of the dominant tribe.
Clan dominance is decided by how close the clan lands come to Kucha haka, the sacred site, where a meteorite crashed down millennia ago and still lies, imbuing locals with exceptional strength and revelatory visions. The clan head of the dominant tribe is Hak-cha, which is decided by the victor of three contests – physical strength, victory in battle and strategy in war.
The clans are (listed in order of power);
1. Bloodbrood. Chaotic evil. orcs
2. Veil. Ogre mages and slaves
3. Path. Beholders.
4. Scale. Chromatic Dragonspawn.
5. Sword. Humans
6. Shadow. drow
7. Axe. dwarves
8. Slime. hobgoblins and allies
9. Claw. lycanthropes
10. Shoal. The undead
11. Knifes. Assasins. Kobolds
12. Dread. Evil fey (pixies, satyrs, dryads etc)
13. Lost. Abberations. Gnarks, gricks and occasional umberhulk.
Geography
Cavernous. Lots of dragons.
Military
Everyone.
Daily life
Wake up, eat, fight, eat, fight, eat, argue, fight, sleep.
Religion
The people of the War lords worship battle, violence and war. There is no option for death but to die in war, as disease or old age are terrible dishonours. Various cults (they’re not like churches) grow up around weapons and the Gods who exemplify that weapon. Their training is legendary.
Their version of heaven is external war.
Crime and punishment
Whatever the person in charge decides is a crime, basically. It’s chaotic neutral at best.
Cultural oddities
• Politeness is considered very rude. All requests must be phrased in the future tense with a steady voice (not shouting) and without a please or thankyou.
• You are only considered to own what you can keep a hold of. If someone steal or takes something from you, they are considered to deserve it more than you.
• The local language (Shattered lands) has no word for ‘hello’, but instead use ‘success’. The word for ‘please’ is ‘I beg for my life and surrender unconditionally’. The word for ‘thankyou’ is ‘try that again and you will die.’
Friday, May 21, 2010
The nobel beastmen of the far wilderness
The Beastmen are livid. All brandish weapons, calling for your immediate death.
“STOP!” A commanding voice demands. Suddenly there is complete silence. There, descending the stairs into the area, is an old Elk Beastman with enormous antlers, still muscle-bound even after his many years. “You bring great dishonour to our people, my son. Why do you persecute these foreigners!”
“They are Tris, father! The ancient debt cannot be forgiven!”
The father looks at you in silence for a moment.
“I find no fault in them.” He firmly states.
“What? Don’t be a fool old man! They are Tris! We saw their city of wings! I have tested them on the totem of the Tris! You cannot turn you back on the old ways…”
“And you,” the father interrupts, “Cannot turn aside from what our people must become. The old debt grows wearisome and can no longer serve our people in their best interests. The Tris tyrants have been fallen a thousand years, how can their children be held responsible for their parents’ crimes any longer?”
The boy does not answer.
“You have dishonoured me by declaring these worthy of death without my or your mothers agreement. You have shamed us son. And you have shamed the earth mother, who does not support you in this murder, and has allowed Gorka Mornga to be wounded for your foolishness!”
Raining Day says no more, but suddenly flees his fathers’ chastisement in tear filled rage.
“Come,” Says Night Song calmly, King of the Beastmen, “We have much to apologise for.”
“STOP!” A commanding voice demands. Suddenly there is complete silence. There, descending the stairs into the area, is an old Elk Beastman with enormous antlers, still muscle-bound even after his many years. “You bring great dishonour to our people, my son. Why do you persecute these foreigners!”
“They are Tris, father! The ancient debt cannot be forgiven!”
The father looks at you in silence for a moment.
“I find no fault in them.” He firmly states.
“What? Don’t be a fool old man! They are Tris! We saw their city of wings! I have tested them on the totem of the Tris! You cannot turn you back on the old ways…”
“And you,” the father interrupts, “Cannot turn aside from what our people must become. The old debt grows wearisome and can no longer serve our people in their best interests. The Tris tyrants have been fallen a thousand years, how can their children be held responsible for their parents’ crimes any longer?”
The boy does not answer.
“You have dishonoured me by declaring these worthy of death without my or your mothers agreement. You have shamed us son. And you have shamed the earth mother, who does not support you in this murder, and has allowed Gorka Mornga to be wounded for your foolishness!”
Raining Day says no more, but suddenly flees his fathers’ chastisement in tear filled rage.
“Come,” Says Night Song calmly, King of the Beastmen, “We have much to apologise for.”
Friday, May 7, 2010
Tour caverns of the Tris, part 2: The inner sanctum
The sanctum
Foyer
The room you are teleported to is perfectly octagonal and perfectly exact in every measurement. It is not large, only about 30 feet across, with the large stone table you currently have your hands on in the centre.
Surrounding the room are eight walls, each with a strange symbol in the centre.
Near the north wall a trail of black dust leads into the wall, where a small glass key lies, seeming undisturbed in centuries… Finally, there is here an Umberhulk skeleton, 2 or 3 hundred years old...
Abjuration
This room is octagonal, inscribed with three concentric circles of protection. Cleverly cut into the walls are shelves, books, and a desk, but no sign of sleeping quarters. The upholstery is mostly silver and black. An open book sits on the desk with a silver goblet beside it.
Conjuration
This octagonal room is brown, with a light blue summoning circle permanently inscribed in the floor in turquoise stone. A bed, study desk, and a broken book shelf are all that remain.
Divination
This room is light blue, and smells delightfully like a fresh winter morning. Delicate white lace patterns line the top of the room. There is little here but an ornate bed, a well preserved rug, a magical painting depicting a forest scene, and a humainoid skeleton blasted against a heavily cracked and chared desk.
Enchantment
As soon as you enter, you hear the words “I cannot leave the room, I cannot leave… hello, what is this?” There, lying luxuriously on the bed, is the most otherworldly handsome man you’ve ever laid eyes on. With seductious glee he offers “Hello, wont you come sit by me?”
Evocation
This room is unnaturally cold. It might have been glorious once, but the red drapes and finery are all but discarded with age and disuse. All furniture has been destroyed by time. A desiccated skeleton lies on the floor, a key clutched in its hands, pawing at the door.
Illusion
This room is beautiful, built for a male human to enjoy a rich degree of luxury, the magical plate still forming delicious sweetmeats even after all these years. An illusionary harp and viol play soothing music to an empty room.
Necromancy
This room looks well attended to, and none of the dust and mould of a thousand years clutters the air. It is well arrayed with black drapes, and everburning candles light the desk where a skeleton sits as if writing.
Suddenly, the skeleton turns to face you, and in a cruel, hollow voice whispers.
“1000 years, and suddenly a visitor? I have long since surrendered to despair. Perhaps you have come to amuse me?”
“At first, it seemed like such fun. We were going to master the time portal ourselves, the Evoker and I, and slay the rest as soon as it began to function. Well, function it did, and as was my part of the bargain I set about slaying all the other wizards, beginning with the conjurer… I still remember his screams…. Then I raised him as an undead to continue my work. Well, the others had turned on each other already by then, so it was a simple matter of preventing their escapes, much simpler than we first envisioned. How the Transmuter bled!
“Even so, I always knew the Evoker would betray me. He wanted me to be his axe of execution… it was too tempting an offer to refuse… but then he planned to throw me aside. But I was too clever for him, and had a special spell designed just when he did, a little heart worm it was! Ha ha! … oh… oh I wish I could have seen that!
“But I see you have entered in now. So I must assume you have my key, or his. Well, I’ll be taking my key back now, or I will have the pleasure of watching you die…
Transmutation
This room is full of devices of wonder and merriment – all broken. Seemingly once magical toys for children fill a room, but no wizard has dwelt here for a long time. Even as you look about, the change in the air causes a rotten shelf to go crashing to the floor. There is what appears to be a form of bed, but it might have folded up to make a riding pony, a desk that might have also been a dress, and a mirror that looks like it was once used as a drink dispenser…
Riddle;
The one thing that is always constant.
After me, all things are different
Before me, they are not what they have become
Without me, no boy would become a man
No seed a flower, no
And whatever else you can say of me
I am the opposite of ‘constant’.
The inner sanctum.
You are standing on a circular platform in a strange, perfectly spherical room. In the centre of the room an enormous clear quartz looms, floating in mid air. A scintillating purple light glows from it’s heart, projecting through the cracks and pits in its surface, to cover the walls completely in strange lines, symbols, and starfields. It looks as though it might have been used in some kind of calculation, but whatever it was used for must have been immense. The patterns appear to shine right through people somehow to cover the walls of this strange, small room. The air is fresh, but filled with a tangible sense of arcane power and mystery.
Epilogue
It is a fortnight in the making; the great circle of honesty that will finally compel all who promise honesty to deliver it. Within that circle, even the lies one might tell themselves are revealed. And at the centre of the circle a great stone will be healed.
Mingla, the Turquoise, in the hallowed hall overlooking the sky market. Mingla is a massive crystal, covering most of the floor, rising up in irregular lumps that easily form comfortable seating, covering herself with all kinds of mosses and flowers. Patrons come here daily to gain insight into their own lives, and discuss how to make their desires a reality in this world.
At first silent, within a day the many projections of Mingla are chatting again, but no more are they confused and ill, but rather they are clear minded, honest and perceptive. One of those images now approach you, with long brown hair and dark turquoise eyes she bounces up to you, eagre to talk.
“Thankyou.” She says, “Thankyou. This will make such a difference… thankyou.” She says, and bounces off again on her endless quest to love well and always speak the truth.
Foyer
The room you are teleported to is perfectly octagonal and perfectly exact in every measurement. It is not large, only about 30 feet across, with the large stone table you currently have your hands on in the centre.
Surrounding the room are eight walls, each with a strange symbol in the centre.
Near the north wall a trail of black dust leads into the wall, where a small glass key lies, seeming undisturbed in centuries… Finally, there is here an Umberhulk skeleton, 2 or 3 hundred years old...
Abjuration
This room is octagonal, inscribed with three concentric circles of protection. Cleverly cut into the walls are shelves, books, and a desk, but no sign of sleeping quarters. The upholstery is mostly silver and black. An open book sits on the desk with a silver goblet beside it.
Conjuration
This octagonal room is brown, with a light blue summoning circle permanently inscribed in the floor in turquoise stone. A bed, study desk, and a broken book shelf are all that remain.
Divination
This room is light blue, and smells delightfully like a fresh winter morning. Delicate white lace patterns line the top of the room. There is little here but an ornate bed, a well preserved rug, a magical painting depicting a forest scene, and a humainoid skeleton blasted against a heavily cracked and chared desk.
Enchantment
As soon as you enter, you hear the words “I cannot leave the room, I cannot leave… hello, what is this?” There, lying luxuriously on the bed, is the most otherworldly handsome man you’ve ever laid eyes on. With seductious glee he offers “Hello, wont you come sit by me?”
Evocation
This room is unnaturally cold. It might have been glorious once, but the red drapes and finery are all but discarded with age and disuse. All furniture has been destroyed by time. A desiccated skeleton lies on the floor, a key clutched in its hands, pawing at the door.
Illusion
This room is beautiful, built for a male human to enjoy a rich degree of luxury, the magical plate still forming delicious sweetmeats even after all these years. An illusionary harp and viol play soothing music to an empty room.
Necromancy
This room looks well attended to, and none of the dust and mould of a thousand years clutters the air. It is well arrayed with black drapes, and everburning candles light the desk where a skeleton sits as if writing.
Suddenly, the skeleton turns to face you, and in a cruel, hollow voice whispers.
“1000 years, and suddenly a visitor? I have long since surrendered to despair. Perhaps you have come to amuse me?”
“At first, it seemed like such fun. We were going to master the time portal ourselves, the Evoker and I, and slay the rest as soon as it began to function. Well, function it did, and as was my part of the bargain I set about slaying all the other wizards, beginning with the conjurer… I still remember his screams…. Then I raised him as an undead to continue my work. Well, the others had turned on each other already by then, so it was a simple matter of preventing their escapes, much simpler than we first envisioned. How the Transmuter bled!
“Even so, I always knew the Evoker would betray me. He wanted me to be his axe of execution… it was too tempting an offer to refuse… but then he planned to throw me aside. But I was too clever for him, and had a special spell designed just when he did, a little heart worm it was! Ha ha! … oh… oh I wish I could have seen that!
“But I see you have entered in now. So I must assume you have my key, or his. Well, I’ll be taking my key back now, or I will have the pleasure of watching you die…
Transmutation
This room is full of devices of wonder and merriment – all broken. Seemingly once magical toys for children fill a room, but no wizard has dwelt here for a long time. Even as you look about, the change in the air causes a rotten shelf to go crashing to the floor. There is what appears to be a form of bed, but it might have folded up to make a riding pony, a desk that might have also been a dress, and a mirror that looks like it was once used as a drink dispenser…
Riddle;
The one thing that is always constant.
After me, all things are different
Before me, they are not what they have become
Without me, no boy would become a man
No seed a flower, no
And whatever else you can say of me
I am the opposite of ‘constant’.
The inner sanctum.
You are standing on a circular platform in a strange, perfectly spherical room. In the centre of the room an enormous clear quartz looms, floating in mid air. A scintillating purple light glows from it’s heart, projecting through the cracks and pits in its surface, to cover the walls completely in strange lines, symbols, and starfields. It looks as though it might have been used in some kind of calculation, but whatever it was used for must have been immense. The patterns appear to shine right through people somehow to cover the walls of this strange, small room. The air is fresh, but filled with a tangible sense of arcane power and mystery.
Epilogue
It is a fortnight in the making; the great circle of honesty that will finally compel all who promise honesty to deliver it. Within that circle, even the lies one might tell themselves are revealed. And at the centre of the circle a great stone will be healed.
Mingla, the Turquoise, in the hallowed hall overlooking the sky market. Mingla is a massive crystal, covering most of the floor, rising up in irregular lumps that easily form comfortable seating, covering herself with all kinds of mosses and flowers. Patrons come here daily to gain insight into their own lives, and discuss how to make their desires a reality in this world.
At first silent, within a day the many projections of Mingla are chatting again, but no more are they confused and ill, but rather they are clear minded, honest and perceptive. One of those images now approach you, with long brown hair and dark turquoise eyes she bounces up to you, eagre to talk.
“Thankyou.” She says, “Thankyou. This will make such a difference… thankyou.” She says, and bounces off again on her endless quest to love well and always speak the truth.
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