Saturday, February 28, 2015

Tragidore: Gallow's Grove and the Abandoned Ones

325 gp 5 pp
(5) 100 gp gems

Masterwork leather armor
Masterwork morning star
Potion of remove fear
Arcane scroll of web
Divine scroll of cause fear, Divine scroll of murderous command

In a masterwork ceremonial velvet lined box, with obvious symbols from the Temple of the Gauntleted Fist and runes for four holy sacraments. Inside the box are 4 objects: a bronze “swords” flagon (50 gp), electrum “knight” cup (75 gp), polished duskwood “squire” flagon (50 gp), and a silver “priest” chalice with the symbol of Torm (250 gp, also functions as a cleric’s holy symbol).

(3) Masterwork battle axes
(3) Masterwork half-plate and masterwork light steel shields (dating back to the Weeping War)
Arcane Scroll of Minor Image
Divine Scroll of Cause fear, Divine Scroll of Delay Poison, Divine Scroll of Light
Wand of Cure Light Wounds (CL1- 30 ch); Wand of Entropic Shield (CL3- 23 ch); Wand of Magic Missile (CL5- 18 ch); Wand of Acid Splash (CL1- 40 ch)
  • Deadfall Dweller brain (magical beast); 5 HD; abjuration school; Spellcraft DC 10 + SL: Spell Focus (Abjuration) 
  • Deadfall Dweller glands (magical beast); 5 HD; conjuration school; Spellcraft DC 10 + SL: Spell Focus (Conjuration) 
  • Deadfall Dweller heart (magical beast); 5 HD; evocation school; Spellcraft DC 10 + SL: Spell Focus (Evocation) 
  • Deadfall Dweller stomach (magical beast); 5 HD; transmutation school; Spellcraft DC 10 + SL: Spell Focus (Transmutation) 
  • (3) Undead bones (undead); 5 HD; necromancy school; Spellcraft DC 15 + SL; Spell Focus (necromancy); 10 gp. 
  • (3) Doom weed (organic); - HD; necromancy school; Spellcraft DC 15 + SL; Empower Spell (inflict spells); 25 gp.  

Wednesday, February 25, 2015

Smendric 2nd orgin Part 3


Smendric sat in the great hall surround by a couple hundred citizens of Eleanor. He had seen enough magnificent mansions in his day to recognize where he was, though clearly the others had not. Near transparent servants hurried around refilling goblets and replacing empty bowls with all manner of exotic delicacies the likes of which these commoners had never seen. He jeered when the hall became silent as the magical servants floated twenty fully roasted boars onto the banquet tables. Secretly he envied these simple folks though he would never admit it. The sense of wonder at seeing “great magic” for the first time was a feeling he treasured. He had traveled so far for so long most magic had become old hat to him, and that sense of wonder had become difficult to find. Now a days most new magic that came his way arrived in the form of hostile casters, and he could ill afford to stop and smell the roses.
Smendric enjoyed watching these citizens enamored by the magical servants. But he was becoming anxious at the obvious absence of their host who had only been referred to as the Eonian. As the banquet gradually turned into a dance, Smendric passed the time by touring the hall. It reminded him of some of the nicer noble houses in Waterdeep. Several of the lords would often throw fancy parties as a ruse to show off their art collections. This hall housed well over 200 paintings of Eleanor done by a single artist over what looked like a very long lifetime. This gallery served as a chronology for the city as it evolved over an undetermined number of years. Changes in the city’s configuration and even changes in the landscape had been put to canvas by an artist of incredible talent. It wasn’t until he came across a view from above the valley that things began to make sense.
The angle of this picture was remarkably close to the peak he had spent so many hours studying from. Judging by the size of the city this must have been painted decades ago. He was amazed at the symmetry of the entire valley. He had already theorized someone must have created it, laid out everything as to minimize the negative effects of nature and maximize efficiencies of the fields and forests.  Now that it was scaled down and laid out in front of him it was much more than that. He allowed himself to visualize the city, mentally filling in sections of the painting as if he were paining it today.
His body began to tingle as his mind filled in missing pieces of the city. He always enjoyed the sensation of new discoveries, and this puzzle had plagued him for months. As a master of teleportation one of Smendric’s greatest assets was his ability to memorize and mentally recall specific details of locations he had visited. He often found it easier to visualize arcane sigils and runes laid over real world landmarks for memorization. In this exercise he found himself filling in buildings & landmarks of the valley with sigils of the same shape. As his envisaged picture began to take form he had several amazing discoveries. As if reading an artistic scroll many of the sigils he interpreted strung together to form a wide variety of spells laid across the valley. Abjuration, transmutation, & summoning magic seemed to be most prevalent. He wondered how these spells could be cast and what would happen if he did. Smendric was in awe at the foresight this endeavor must have taken. At least he had a glimpse of the bigger picture and he understood it. Stepping back he admired the valley as a whole, and then he realized the entire valley formed a summoning circle.       

Though the circle was not yet complete it was easy to see the necessary steps to do so. Smendric could not identify some of the sigils however he assumed that would be remedied with some research. He wondered if a circle of this magnitude was intended to summon an army of creatures or a single massive titan. Either way it looked as if whatever was summoned was intended to defend the valley. There was an obvious lack of binding precautions taken to protect the area against whatever was called; they must be familiar or have great trust in whatever it was.
Smedric’s attention was jolted by the sudden announcement of the Eonian’s arrival. He found himself on the wrong end of the dimensional space, so he began making his way toward the massive set of double doors at the other end of the hall. He could hear a female voice thanking the citizens for their pilgrimage to visit her, however do to his stature & the oversized nature of these mountainous folk he could not see her. The sea of citizens was difficult to navigate and he had only closed about half the distance when she requested everyone take a seat. As the rest of the crowd began to sit Smendric could not help but linger for a few seconds giving him ample time to make eye contact with the women he had searched for most of his adult life.
The Eonian was a human female late twenties early thirty’s blonde hair with a pale complexion. She was not the most attractive women Smendric had ever seen, but she did possess a natural beauty that was hard to ignore. She projected a level of confidence as she addressed the crowd that was inspiring. He was certain he had seen her before, he couldn’t remember where but there was a familiarity he was certain. He watched as she told stories of centuries past answering questions about specific ancestors of the citizens in attendance. A simple gesture allowed Smendric to observe magical auras and he was shocked to discover she possessed none. Her presentation changed from historical remembrances to strategic planning as she steered the conversation into shaping the city’s future. She allowed the citizens to discuss services they felt were lacking in the city. She then gave them detailed drawings of structures for those services and recommendations of where they could be erected with in the boundaries of city. She also brought forth plans for the farms and what crops should be planted this spring. She gave them magical seed pouches to ensure their fields would be of adequate size and shape to serve their purpose. Smendric noted every “suggestion” and offering of aid was ultimately shaping the valley towards the completion of the summoning circle. 
As she distributed gifts to the crowd she made a comment that caught Smendric’s ear. “This is a list of necessary items that will need to be imported. Give this to the captain of the Lacuna they will have no trouble procuring these items this spring”. 
Smendric remembered the ship captain, he had to practically beg her to bring him here. Not only was he set back double the going rate, but also a few magical items as well. He remembered thinking how attractive she must have looked when she was younger, but years exposed to the sun and the seas had left their mark. Now that same women stood before him twenty years younger and as it was with their first meeting no magic used to alter her appearance. Her gift of disguise must truly be remarkable he thought, judging by the paintings around the hall she was a true artist. 


Tuesday, February 24, 2015

Tragidore: In media res

At first you feel empty and cold, like being lost under water and being swept up in its current except in the form of a gust of icy air. This sensation is quickly followed by the sweet smell of apples and the spice of cinnamon. Sounds come into focus, the rustling leaves and the womanly voice of an oracle, “By the last breath of the four winds bow.”

Opening your eyes you see naked trees reaching their skeletal branches into a clear night sky; stars shine drearily in the chill evening. Feeling disorientated as if waking from a long slumber, you shiver to find yourselves woefully under dressed- looking at each other you are all in summer garb, lying about the grounds, and surrounding the sapphire monolith. A chilling fog obscures much of the rest of the small city as emptiness, despair, and heartache fills you in the aftermath of your quest.

Confusing sounds of wings taking to air then the voice of the oracle again sunders the quiet night, “You better raise your ears.” You look to the sound of the oracle’s voice and see a venerable woman steadfastly following a white owl who, in-turn seems to be chasing a dim mote of illumination. Around you are what appears to be autumn leaves fallen from the trees above, out from you are the city commons, and beyond that- grey mists obscuring the buildings and features of Tragidore. You will come to recognize the oracle, her voice taking on an echo as she invites you to follow. “The sound of hooves knocks at your door.”

Verith Raiserik
Time seems to stand still as you come to recognize your surroundings. Leaving behind the feeling of being lost under water; it is instead replaced with emptiness and despair for your soul in the wake of your quest.

You each follow the oracle over a wide bridge spanning the river; the bridge wavers and shimmers transforming into a cliff-side.  A ghostly young woman wearing a stylish gown approaches the cliff. Between tearful sobs, she whimpers, "Throw the ring into the river, shall I?" and sobs. After a second's hesitation, she assumes a defiant expression and steps to the edge of the cliff. She leans over the cliff and closes her eyes, then slips off; crashing into the cliff face several times before her broken form splashes into the water below. The water becomes still once more and only you and bridge remain.

“Lock up your wife and children now,” echoes the oracle’s voice ahead and from beyond the mists. Hastening your step to follow the elusive woman you find yourselves now at a storefront window. A sign in the window says ‘out of business’ but in the reflection of the glass you see two men appear.

The two gentlemen, a son and father, have replaced your reflections in the dark city street. As you look on the younger man angrily snatches a bag of coins from his elder and wordlessly turns his back. As he does so, the older man pursues him across the street shouting, "Son, if you hate me so much, why don't you just kill me already!" The reflection of the young man turns on his father, a knife mysteriously in hand, and stabs his father viciously and repeatedly. The bloody scene fades back to your own reflections and the ‘out of business’ sign.

This time from a lot closer the oracle’s voice advises, “It’s time to wield the blade.” This is immediately followed by the sounds of vicious swordplay coming from a nearby feast hall. Autumn chill embraces you as you penetrate the mists to find brother and sister in a death duel, “She promised herself to me,” the brother says with a deadly thrust of his blade. “You? She and I are lovers you fool!” says the sister, but before the duel’s final moments play out the oracle speaks and the combatants are cast away like mists in a wind.

“For now you have got some company,” The oracle at last declares before you see her enter Trinity Church. The sound of the door has a thunderous effect on your awareness like waking from a deep sleep. Standing now in front of Trinity Church you are each reminded of how it was a year ago your adventure began from this exact spot. 

Monday, February 23, 2015

Tragidore: At a Glance

Thousands of years ago, the heavens above Toril ensured Mistledale's future prosperity when a meteor plowed a hundred-mile-long, thirty-mile-wide swath through the Elven Woods. The trees never regrew in the scar where the meteorite had fallen, but the land proved amazingly fertile thereafter, rich with hereto unknown deposits of exotic elements, minerals, and magical resources.

Tragen Gundwynd, son of Devin the first of his name is credited with founding what was then called Tragen’s Hold, an outpost in the Weeping War; the war that would spell the fall of Myth drannor. Tragen and his fellowship attracted followers that would defend against the Army of Darkness. Five-hundred years later the small city of Tragidore has grown to a respectable size because of its natural resources, despite having weathered years of war, political intrigue, and tragedies. 

The following are important features in and around Tragidore.

Abbey Green: Now just a Nameless Village to the north after the Elves of Eldath disappeared after their patron god died. Now only a few visitors stop here, mostly rangers who use it as a base camp before trekking into the dangerous parts of the Verduran Forest.

Aurora’s Consortium: Owned by the beautiful and alluring Aurora Tenloss a merchant heiress and trust-fund highborn woman from Sembia. The grand opening on Moonfeast will feature over a dozen drow crafted items and weapons. 

Blackrock Company (NEW): A feast hall and head office for the Blackrock Company- what's left of the group that ended the drow siege on Tragidore during the godsfall. Sanford Stubblemane trains and certifies fighters who bring in trophies of their kills; they are also the Tragidore’s sole resource for Mage coal and elemental gems.

Bridges of Eldath: A sacred bridge spanning the River Ashaba, where a battle between the Lady of the Lake, Eldath and Talona the Mistress of Disease on Highharvestide a year ago; each goddess vying for control of a divine aspect of power, one of the elements needed to regain divinity during the godsfall. Eldath, the Guardian of Groves, fought at great expense to protect the people of Tragidore. Talona used this tactic to her advantage spilling godsblood as Eldath protected the innocent. A magic-dead area looms like an invisible cloud betwixt the twin bridges reminding people of her sacrifice to save the city.

Tree of Voices: This nature shrine is guarded by Brother Zaganos and the Vistani family. The Tree was chosen by a demi-power to shelters ravens, owls, and other magical messengers along their overland flight.

Constabulary: Tragidore’s Chief Constable is Carin Taber, a no nonsense woman who understands the city's politics and enforces the law with unbridled favoritism toward the wealthy and highborn. Her officers include Bozbeyli Meet, the Governor of the Guard; and Gilda Marsh, cleric of Torm as well as Minister of Justice who supervise seventy new guardsmen.

Fordskin Ranch: Jestine Van Richten is tough, quiet, and more than willing to risk her life to protect the people of Tragidore; a breeding expert specializing in Fordskin horses that are widely used by the Riders of Mistledale, who come here to train and trade fresh horses. Fordskins have been long noted for their superior qualities and strength. They have more stamina, more determination, harder feet, better bones and are generally hardier than other horses. 

Gentleman’s Mage (CLOSED): Riger Mann and his father Tolger own this haberdashery of devices both mundane and magical for the discerning man and contemporary mage. They are Tragidore’s sole resource for Turmeric and other medicinal herbs.

Gundwynd Manor: Part of the original keep, it is easily the oldest building in Tragidore capable of housing the entire clan.  

Hippogriff Arie: Morgan Gundwynd a tireless gentleman and druid who tend to young hippogriffs but who’s primary love and function is his care at breeding the Balserran horses. He spends his time now however consumed over a sickness that is affecting the animals which he calls it Talona’s Revenge.

House of Black and White: Tragidore’s brothel, nearly forgotten during the godsfall is experiencing rise in popularity with the return of all able bodied men. Madame Xemne Pardette operates the house and provides escorts; Milsa Meet is one of her favored girls.

Ioun Gardens (NEW): Operated by the Iounmancer Adolmus Gladstone, an expert in stone, precious gems; a metallurgist obsessed with the magical gemstone-rain provoked by the godsfall. Adolmus recently purchased a villa and converted it into a member’s only alchemy fellowship.

Kordova House and Training Academy: Vacek Kordova is a Knight of Myth Drannor, an order of cavaliers who combine guardianship with the order of the Tome occupies one of the old castles from the war as their family abode.

Lady of the Rings: Davina Silvers owns this little shop of mystic baubles and magic of fancy. She is a half-elf Vistani and a known medium utilizing palmistry readings and spirit lore.

Raiserik Tower: A functional alabaster guard tower houses the Raiserik’s and Holgast Raiserik is a master gardener, resins and refined alchemical substances- source of Scraphite and Dri wood paper.

Renet’s Steel: Humfredus Ironshield, a dwarf blacksmith who boasts his sharp blades and spellforged arms and armor are superior to any in the city. He is a dealer in exotic weapons and also offers shields of exceptional make.

Sapphire Monolith: The Wellspring, a magical touchstone from a previous age of magic and a rare coveted source of Incarnum magic.

Swift Prison: ‘May your time be swift.’ Notable prisoners include two drow elves and a local enthusiastic necromancer-priest named Nhar-del. Underneath Swift Prison is the Tragidore’s crypts. The warden’s name is Warak Freestone who is assisted by Lawson Harting the resident deputy-warden, crypt keeper, and city undertaker.

Temple of the Gauntleted Fist: is a repurposed 500 year-old barracks from the Weeping War that now houses two alters to Torm and Shaundakul. Sir Delmar Truesword, Sir Kirkland Starkweather, and Titus ‘the Unbroken’ are a few of the notable and albeit elderly priests who are happy to retell war stories or heal young warriors who share a tale of their own.

The Cawing Crow: Members of this family appear like typical gypsies with knowledge in seasons and celestial cycles, arcane symbols and enchantment magic. This family resides in the first house built when the Weeping War ended and the Tree of Voices was first planted. 

The Curious and the Cowled: Lucine Baumann, formerly Kordova, is a widowed old cat-lady who owns this specialty shop. She is fond of sweets and can correctly identify the region and time period of any article of fashion or clothing.

The Silverhoard: Boon Silverhorde is a weapons maker and chief rival of Humfredus Strongaxe. Boon believes his balanced, hurtful weapons are superior to Renet’s Steel. He employs a host of craftsmen who produce simple weapons, helms as well as spellforged arms and armor.

The Sword Point Inn: A popular local place for accommodations, food, gambeling and entertainment. Wyman ‘the Gentleman’ owns and operates this fine, reasonable priced tavern and expensive in. The interior is based on benevolent heroic themes of victories against dark horse-lords. 

Town Map and Message Board (NEW): Outside the Sword Point Inn is an oval limestone table where a magical model of Tragidore is displayed featuring all the buildings, streets and details of the walled city. Aside from its impressive craftsmanship and amazing magic it functions as a place where anyone can solicit help or post information. A middle aged aristocratic-type named Elad Edals maintains the area.

Trinity Church: Once a kaleidoscopic journey into magic, now a jealously guarded repository of items sacred to the worship of Azuth, Savras, and Velsharoon.

Tristeza House: an manor outside the city abandoned after its last occupants poisoned one another in an attempt to dissolve a mutually unfaithful marriage. The estate has a history of tragic deaths dating back 500 years and is considered haunted by its last owner, Caitrin Deveraux.

Van Richten Keep: Occupying the last of the minor castles, the Van Ricten’s ploy their trade and plan their exploits behind its sturdy grey walls.  

Verduran Wood: a forest area of thorny and twisted trees as haunted and tragic as Tragidore itself. Scores of loggers, merchants, river pirates, poachers, rangers, bandits, and explorers have disappeared there in the last few years alone. The old area of thorny and twisted trees once a part of Cormanthor now touched by wild magic in the wake of the godsfall. Logan Higgs ranges this area of woods outside of Tragidore.

Watchtower Cassomir: Built on the ruins of an old fortification from the Weeping War the Watchtower is the official Seat of the Mayor of Tragidore. Jonark Uptal, Fifth Councilman and Mayor is a stoic man who is also running for another Mayoral term despite his recent unpopularity. Other officers include Rubicund, the Master of Coin, and Gilda Marsh, Minister of Justice can be located here most of the time handling the city operations.

Woodcutter’s Guildhall: Guild Master Matsen Lutar is from Sembia has been sent here after the previous guild president mysteriously fled. Among those in his employ is Grimscar Nicfar a half-orc lumberjack and expert axemen.

Sunday, February 22, 2015

Tragidore: The Five Families

Gundwynd: Founding family of Tragidore with ancestry tracing back to the Weeping War hero Tragen Gundwynd, decedent of Devin Gundwynd. Their roots borrow deep in Tragidore’s history with tragic stories of infidelity and betrayal yet despite all they are a noble and proud family known for their expertise in breeding and training Balserran hippogriffs, as well as instructing great thinkers and evocationists over the decades. They are tough and secretive which makes them difficult to interpret much of the time. Members of this house prefer explorers garb bearing the family Flying Hippogriff devices. Gundwynds have golden hair and green eyes; the men wear their hair short and many sport close trimmed beard or goatees, while the woman’s hair varies for the occasion. Prominent Figures: Rantal, family cleric of Azuth; Morgan, druid and aerie caretaker; Favored Deities: Azuth, Mystra, Torm; Holdings: Gudnwynd Manor, Hippogriff Aerie; Trade Interests: Capture, train, breed hippogriffs as steeds, they also breed bison for their meat, milk and cheese; Membership (Nobles): 37.

Kordova: A trusted militant family hailing north of the Moonsea; they are lawful with honored traditions in magic, ancient mysteries, the Weeping War, and the hunting of undead creatures. Described as rangers they are at home in the forests and abhor those who would deface its beauty and magic. Kordovans often wear soldier’s uniforms in royal colors displaying the Charging Bear family symbol. Members of this house have auburn hair, brown eyes and are relatively tall people; the men wear their hair short and do not normally grow their facial hair, while the woman keep their hair simple. Authority Figures: Vacek, Knight of Myth Drannor; Favored Deities: Azuth, Silvanus, Tymora; Holdings: Curious and the Cowled, Kordova Training Agademy; Trade Interests: Wine, potato ale, sword forging, soldering, guardianship, and magic; Membership (Nobles): 35.

Raiserik: One of the oldest families, the Raiseriks are established experts in Arcana for creating unique spells and power component uses such as resins and refined core substances; they are astute professors of magic traditions, lands and people as well as the inner planes. Members of this house prefer scholars outfits of solid colors bearing the family’s Resplendent Wyvern. Raiseriks have white hair and silver eyes; the men wear their hair long and flowing with sometimes long prestigious bears or goatees to match. The woman’s hair however is not allowed to grow longer than their shoulders, but instead are done in complicated shapes and expressions. Authority Figures: Holgast, master alchemist; Favored Deities: Azuth, Savras, and Velsharoon; Holdings: Raiserik Tower, Gentleman’s Mage; Trade Interests: Mage schooling, magical research; they also have small farms that produce bountiful grains and are the sole resource for Dri wood paper; Membership (Nobles): 31.  

Van Richten: The Van Richtens are a family of the legendary monster-hunters; they are leading authorities on outsiders, planar magic, magical beasts, as well as having a storehouse of dungeon maps and similar collections. Despite first impressions they are a religious family, praying for strength and wisdom against their planar foes. Van Richtens often wear explorer’s outfits in earth-tones displaying their own family symbol, the Flayed Beast. Members of this house have black, often unkempt hair, dark eyes and are known as swift and intuitive people. The men hair varies, but many sport black tangled beards, while the woman keep their hair medium length and decorated with the bones of past flayed beasts. Authority Figures: Raimund, monster hunter and Jestine, Rider of Mistledale; Favored Deities: Savras, Malar, Tymora; Holdings: Van Richten Manor, Fordskin Ranch; Trade Interests: Exploration, guiding, collecting maps, and the hunting of magical creatures; Membership (Nobles): 27.

Vistani: A haunted and mysterious family, the Vistani are accomplished diviners and are rumored to have escaped from the domain of dread generations ago; nevertheless the horror of that place still seems evident in their fearful eyes. They appear like typical gypsies with seemingly otherworldly knowledge on seasons and celestial cycles, arcane symbols and enchantment magic. They are custodians of the Tree of Voices. Members of this house prefer colorful courtiers or entertainers garb brandishing the family Perched Rook symbol. The majority of the Vistani men have long black hair and brown eyes and many sometimes sport close trimmed beard or a mustache. The Vistani women have long naturally dark blue or raven hair woven with colorful ribbons and feathers. Authority Figures: Marta, family matriarch and Celadae, a young lady-noble; Favored Deities: Eldath, Mielikki and Savras; Holdings: The Cawing Crow, Lady of the Rings and the Tree of Voices; Trade Interests: Arcane familiars and bonds, caravan mastering, horse breeding (Dales Pony) and training; Membership (Nobles): 25

Sun Elves: or ‘Gold’ Elves are famed for their command of both arcane and divine magic, which exceeds that of any other living race. Works of elven high magic thousands of years old still survive in the hidden refuges of the sun elves. Sun elves are responsible for the majority of the great elven cities of legend, Myth Drannor is perhaps their most famous creation, although probably not their most magnificent. Sun elf realms are the stuff legends are made of, an integral part of the history of Faerûn for thousands of years. The sun elves certainly know this, for they distance themselves from nonelf races and often won’t let such “lesser beings” into their lands. They are stylistic and practical in their dress, seamlessly joining function and fashion. Sun elves have bronze skin, hair of golden blond, copper, or black, and eyes of green or gold. They favor contemplation, lore, and study over the quick games and light-hearted songs of other elves, but seem to embody the unearthly beauty, grace, and presence of the elven folk.  

Moon Elves: The most common of the elven subraces in the Dalelands are the Moon-Elves or ‘Silver’ Elves. They have fair skin, sometimes tinged with blue, and hair of silver-white, black, or blue; human-like colors are somewhat rare. Their eyes are blue or green, with gold flecks. Moon elves prefer to dress in rustic clothes of simple cuts and fashions that are nevertheless of fine and exquisite make. They adorn their dress with embroidered patterns, beads, and similar trappings, preferring earthen colors for everyday wear, hues that make it easy to conceal themselves in foliage. In places of safety or in times of revelry, moon elves enjoy dressing in bold colors— the more brightly colored, the better. Hair is worn in braids or ponytails, twined with wires or beads. Moon elves sometimes wear body paint or tattoos in mystic patterns, although not to extent the wild elves do. Moon elves are nomadic spirits who rarely settle down for long in one place. They are comfortable living among sun elves and wood elves, but just as often they live in areas dominated by humans, halflings, or even gnomes. 

Dales Folk: Many commoners keep themselves clean, hardworking and respectable possessing stalwart honor and integrity. As with most of the folk in Dalelands, they stand up for one another and refuse to be pushed around; a hard won characteristic against the far reaching forces of the Black Network or the sinister merchant corporations of Sembia. Sir names often denote social status, for example middle-class folk might be called Middletons or Silvers; while common lower-class family names include Copperbottom and Littlesire. 

Review 02/281/2015 (Sons of Nissian Epilogue)

Continuing with the request for the miracle, our session began with the ceremony that involves
returning the soul of Rozika and the fulfillment of each of our life-goals. As our corporeal bodies are left behind in the Temple of Tiamat in Nimbus, guarded by the capable Hislop, Anan, Diem and Erilis were transported directly to the court of Tiamat. Horns are trumpeted across the wastes as we arrive in Hell.

Each of us were in honored positions in her court upon a plateau of a mountain of treasure; below were the waters of Styx flowing outward and beyond where the sounds of battle were halted as each of us were brought before Tiamat. She took up the sky, the landscape, the ground we stood upon and vacated any influence other ancients or dragons could hope to have over us. Her burning greed for everything comforted us as our becoming draws near. Around us Tiamat’s four temples open like doorways that only fuel her greed for Earth.

As Diem requests the miracle Auge is the first to be drawn into Tiamat’s regard where she asks him if this union between Rozika and Auge is agreed, and when the affirmative was told a joining of Rozika and Auge’s soul’s in coitus thereby giving Rozika a half-dragon drow form and an offspring. Auge was awarded dominion over the underdark under Africa with his mate in the kingdom come.

Lightening and fire clash as Durg was drawn into to Tiamat’s terrible gaze along with the soul form of Adalwin Joscelin. As Durg's weapon killed the most ancient of witches, it was then Durg’s legacy weapon was awakened as a +5 weapon, chaos bane, knowledge drinker. His dominion would become Stormhaven.

Jaren was next to be pulled forward to be granted knowledge of thirteen sacred places to Tiamat. Named the builder of Temples, Jaren would be Tiamat’s herald of her arrival on Earth and tasked with beginning temples at each location across the world, Nimbus already found.

Finally Versel was cast forward and hears the word “Avatar.” It is then that Versel becomes Tiamat on Earth as she abdicates her battle for Hell to the Bearded One to rule on Earth during the Age of Dragons. His promised domain was the Africa.

Weeks and months later the waters around Stormhaven begin to boil cleansing the waters of the alien jailer. For weeks the battle is brought against the Farie Queen and the vile bandersnatches burning a large swath of destruction across Africa. And just at the pinnacle of victory Nissian enters the story and exercises his knowledge of Versel’s truename thereby assuming Tiamat’s mantle on Earth from a seat somewhere in Mesopotamia...

Thursday, February 19, 2015

Smendric 2nd orgin Part 2

The small town of Eleanor has known nothing but prosperity since it was settled. Built in a valley of the Frostback Mountains this city’s natural defenses made it the perfect location for anyone looking to enjoy the simple life. Surrounded by mountains on all sides Eleanor is well protected from most land based aggressors. The height of the mountains ensure most of the inclement weather bypasses the valley entirely which allows for plentiful crops year after year. A mere five miles from the coast, the distance is enough to ensure the safety of the city during stormy seasons (do to protection from the mountains). But not so far away to hamper any trade or fishing the citizens may wish to engage in. A narrow yet well-traveled pass leads to the sea where a small series of docks & storage buildings has been erected to help facilitate trade with the city. 

Smedric had arrived in Eleanor only 3 months before the first frost. He had run across the name of the city while investigating “the master mages” of the realms. He was intrigued not only because he could not find any reference to an actual mage living here, but there was also no records of any notable deeds performed by anyone either. He wasn’t sure if a mistake had been made or if someone was trying to hide something. His sources ensured him there was once great magic worked here, but he was looking for an active practitioner not an ancient relic.

It had taken him months to find a ship captain competent enough to bring him here. It seemed several sailors had heard of the city, but few knew where to find it. It wasn’t until he stumbled upon a small trade ship owned by the city itself was he able to book passage. Upon arrival he was initially reminded of Mirabar, with its stone structures & the close proximity of the mountains. But he was surprised to learn there were no dwarves here. The population around 4,500 was all humans. He was told it was not unheard of for someone of another race to visit, but none ever stayed longer than a season.

After poking around his first few weeks he had made some notes about this unique town. There was only a modest library aimed toward rudimentary education. It also contained a very brief overview of the city’s history and founding family of merchant sailors. Apparently there were no surviving members of the original family left in the city. A very basic form of government was established where the city elders made decisions on anything that was not covered in typical day to day operations. The day to day responsibilities were handled by rotating groups of men and women that alternated between working the fields, mines & civic responsibility’s. All able bodied men and women worked in this rotation for at least 10 years.  Its operations reminded Smendric more of a commune than actual city even though its size suggested the latter. The shop owners & city crafters where generally older citizens who after years of running daily operations settled down to a less demanding form of service. Though they did use minted currency (from other regions) it was clear no one actually understood the value of it. Gold, silver, and even copper were all seen as equal value & for all intents and purposes a coin was a coin. There were two yearly festivals Expiry which he had attended in mid fall and Nascent which was early spring. It was the second festival that intrigued him. It culminated with a few hundred able bodied citizens taking a pilgrimage into the mountains. While most people referred to the destination as The Eonian they all seemed to revere this location & it was the first sign of any religion Smendric had heard of since arriving.          

Smendric now stood upon the highest peak looking down at the valley sprawled out ahead of him. He was certain magic had been use to shape the landscape, however that was done centuries ago. The surrounding mountains blanketed with a deep accumulation of snow yet only a light dusting lay across the valley below. The scene was perfect, too perfect he noted as he studied the overall layout of the valley. The forest and river were positioned along the eastern side of the valley. They ran right up to the fields providing no need for irrigation or wind breaks. The fields to the north were remarkably rock free in this mountainous valley. Large enough to feed the entire population of Eleanor he had heard the fields would support a wide variety of crops simultaneously. Someone had created this valley he thought, the river, fields, even the location of the buildings in the city were meticulously placed. It reminded him of the time he created a demi-plane and secretly transported that barbarian tribe to live there for a month, but this was on a much larger scale. Smendric had been coming here every day for a month. There was something about the layout of the valley that gnawed at him, a kind of familiarity even though he had never seen it before.  

It was designed as series of safe guards each area protecting another area of the valley. Floods, avalanches, or any natural disasters had each been taken into account & planed for centuries ago.  Invasion would be the only real threat to the valley however a land assault would be too costly. Bring an invading force over the mountains would take a year; you couldn’t bring enough resources for that long of a campaign. To come by sea if you could find it would have been possible, but what’s the point? Smendric had lived here over nine months and had yet to see anything worth invading for. They had food, a couple small mines for silver & iron ore but nothing of great value. It certainly wasn’t a strategic location. Even their smithy & crafting techniques were dated compared to other cities he had visited. His attention came back to the present, there was something else, something that kept calling him back up here, something he had yet to see. He hoped tomorrow’s pilgrimage would inspire him to find what he was looking for.