I came late to a civil (but crude) discussion on Circvs Maximvs (thus the crude) about older game editions, and the topic of nostalgia came up. I'm not claiming this is great literature, but I think it's worth reposting. I have no problem with nostalgia (quite the opposite; my thesis is likely to try and capture it), but the goal to which it is directed is inherently unachievable.
*****
Why is nostalgia seen as "bad"?
Because it has connotations (and more than connotations) of looking at the past with rose-colored glasses; eg arguing that "X" (in the past) is superior to "X" in the present while ignoring or discounting that "X" in the past involved large amounts of animal waste, infectious diseases, or the fact that 50% of the children born in Britain in 1823 died before their 21st birthday (that last courtesy of National Geographic & arguments for/against human evolution).
I'm alternately enthralled and horrified by how landscape architecture (which I'm studying for a masters degree) has become entangled with sociology and..."cultural studies", but it has reinforced the fact that everything we do is a product of our times, including nostalgia. Thus, I don't see OD&D as an "precursor" to 4e (though it is), but as two concurrent game systems that create two different styles of play.
*****
The thing is, you can't recreate the past. You can create something contemporary that draws inspiration from the past, but you can't copy it wholesale into now. The whole OSR is built on a) the OGL, b) the educated understanding of copyright the OGL engendered, and c) the online D&D community built, in large part, in reaction (positive or negative) to 3e and 4e. Our understanding of Gygax's core literary & genre inspirations has changed as we assimilate or reject Shannara, The Wheel of Time, The Black Company, and Harry Potter, not to mention movies & games.
I read a short story a number of years ago about a musical prodigy raised in isolation but constantly recorded, with his compositions made public, until someone managed to sneak him some recordings of past composers. His "benefactor" warned him not to tell anyone, but the "monitors" realized it anyways, as suddenly the prodigy's compositions lacked the (musical flourishes) he'd heard from Mozart & Bach. He'd gone from pure inspiration to artifice. D&D isn't quite on that level, but the sentiment is there. OSR nowadays reject ideas they may have embraced twenty years ago, because now "wizards must use wands" sounds like 4e or Harry Potter, and "using minis" is a 3e/4e-ism...never mind the fact that many people gamed with miniatures or something similar (I used a chalkboard during college) to provide a visual representation of the encounter area during play.
So, if you want to reject those things, that's fine...but don't pretend that's how "things really were", or that your game is "better" because it's "older".
Nostalgia is about a condition and a feeling -- you equate a sense of pleasure with a condition that existed in the past. You cannot, as outlined above, recreate the exact condition, so the goal is to/must be to recreate the feeling with current conditions..which likely utilize similar elements as in the past, and thus invoking both pleasurable feelings and memories of pleasurable feelings.
I'm all for that.
Thursday, November 26, 2009
Wednesday, October 28, 2009
Knockspell #3
Knockspell #3 is out, and I have a few monsters in it, and an author bio mentioning this blog.
If you came here after reading that, I apologize for the lack of posts - grad school is kicking my ass. The regular irregular posting will resume around December, run through most of January, and then go quiet until sometime in May. If it's any consolation, trust me, it's not a voluntary vacation from RPGs. ;)
If you came here after reading that, I apologize for the lack of posts - grad school is kicking my ass. The regular irregular posting will resume around December, run through most of January, and then go quiet until sometime in May. If it's any consolation, trust me, it's not a voluntary vacation from RPGs. ;)
Sunday, October 11, 2009
Sammineth [3e]
Sammineth
+3/+1 eagle totem quarterstaff
Sammineth is a curved oak staff, just under six feet tall. The staff is engraved with images of eagles and feathers, and a magically hardened egg is bound to the head of the staff. The engravings are skillfully done, and depict a variety of eagles in flying, hunting, and perched. The base of the staff bears a worn iron cap shaped like a closed bird’s foot.
History: With the fall of the Amerite Empire and the final withdrawal of troops from the Shadowend, bandits, brigands, and worse came to the Hundred Kingdoms. Trade on the Great Road between Triumport and Blackgate slowed to a trickle, and none of the towns along the route cared to patrol more than a few miles, at best, beyond their walls. Caravan guards were as likely to rob their charges as the brigands they were hired to fend off, and the rude keeps of bandit lords dotted the kingdoms and highlands like carrion crows on a battlefield.
Veraza dauh’Izolla was the daughter of an Amerite footsoldier and a Keirumark tribesman. Blessed with her mother’s rigid sense of duty and order, and her father’s intuitive bond with the land, she swore to drive the brigands out of the Keirumark Highlands. She united the Kierumark tribes behind her, and forged an alliance with the great eagles of the Highland peaks. Sammineth was a symbol of the bond between the tribes and the eagles.
When the Highlands were finally cleared, Veraza gave Sammineth to the eagles, and urged them to remember the alliances they had sworn. The eagles have acted as guardians and caretakers of the staff since then, gifting it to worthy druids and rangers who swear to protect the Highlands.
Properties (3e rules): +3 enhancement bonus to attack and damage / +1 enhancement bonus to attack and damage. Sammineth’s wielder can speak with animals three times per day as a druid of the equal level; gains a +3 circumstance bonus on all reaction rolls when dealing with eagles; and gains a +2 enhancement bonus to her Strength oncer per day. The bonus lasts a number of minutes equal to her level, and activating the bonus is a free action.
+3/+1 eagle totem quarterstaff
Sammineth is a curved oak staff, just under six feet tall. The staff is engraved with images of eagles and feathers, and a magically hardened egg is bound to the head of the staff. The engravings are skillfully done, and depict a variety of eagles in flying, hunting, and perched. The base of the staff bears a worn iron cap shaped like a closed bird’s foot.
History: With the fall of the Amerite Empire and the final withdrawal of troops from the Shadowend, bandits, brigands, and worse came to the Hundred Kingdoms. Trade on the Great Road between Triumport and Blackgate slowed to a trickle, and none of the towns along the route cared to patrol more than a few miles, at best, beyond their walls. Caravan guards were as likely to rob their charges as the brigands they were hired to fend off, and the rude keeps of bandit lords dotted the kingdoms and highlands like carrion crows on a battlefield.
Veraza dauh’Izolla was the daughter of an Amerite footsoldier and a Keirumark tribesman. Blessed with her mother’s rigid sense of duty and order, and her father’s intuitive bond with the land, she swore to drive the brigands out of the Keirumark Highlands. She united the Kierumark tribes behind her, and forged an alliance with the great eagles of the Highland peaks. Sammineth was a symbol of the bond between the tribes and the eagles.
When the Highlands were finally cleared, Veraza gave Sammineth to the eagles, and urged them to remember the alliances they had sworn. The eagles have acted as guardians and caretakers of the staff since then, gifting it to worthy druids and rangers who swear to protect the Highlands.
Properties (3e rules): +3 enhancement bonus to attack and damage / +1 enhancement bonus to attack and damage. Sammineth’s wielder can speak with animals three times per day as a druid of the equal level; gains a +3 circumstance bonus on all reaction rolls when dealing with eagles; and gains a +2 enhancement bonus to her Strength oncer per day. The bonus lasts a number of minutes equal to her level, and activating the bonus is a free action.
Wednesday, September 30, 2009
Dalerain VI: Guardian of the Dawn [3e]
ASHARA
The Oathtaker, Guardian of the Dawn, Promised Lady
Demi-power of the Dalerain
Major AoC: Honor, Oaths, Pacts, Dawn
Minor AoC: Hope, Promise of Better Things, Faith
Symbol: Rays of light coming over a horizon, a golden hind, a padlock with no keyhole, a golden handprint
Allies: Brigit, Kaduv, Madate
Enemies: Kajalla, Malis
Avatar: Wizard 20 / Cleric 5
Ashara takes the form of a half-elven female when she creates an avatar. She has dark brown hair and grey eyes, and she radiates an aura of respect and determination. The Promised Lady carries a magical staff called Leithendau, or Light in Darkness, the properties of which appear to be under her complete control. She sometimes leaves an imprint of her hand in gold as a sign; much time and energy has been devoted to unravelling the prophetic secrets of these divine relics.
Ashara is a youthful deity, only recently ascended to the ranks of the Dalerain. Her companions include Fistine, the only other prominent half-elven Dalerain, and Brigit, the Bright Lady of fire and poetry. She loathes the malicious falsehoods of Malis and Kajalla, and takes every opportunity she can to thwart the objectives of the two older divinities. She frequently involves herself with her priests, granting council, aid, and even intercession if necessary.
Ashara is worshipped by those hoping for improvements in their life, and good and honorable sorcerers, wizards, and bards, and her favor is sought by nearly everyone at one time or another. Her faithful trust that poor circumstances will get better, and those that keep faith and honor are rewarded. They are vigilant against the undead, holding that undeath is a promise of repose frustrated, and that to free the undead to pass on is one of the greatest gifts they can give.
True
Domains: Glory, Good, Law, Magic, Spells
Favored Weapon: Quarterstaff
Suggested Prestige Classes: Contemplative, Hunter of the Dead, Sacred Exorcist, Templar
The Oathtaker, Guardian of the Dawn, Promised Lady
Demi-power of the Dalerain
Major AoC: Honor, Oaths, Pacts, Dawn
Minor AoC: Hope, Promise of Better Things, Faith
Symbol: Rays of light coming over a horizon, a golden hind, a padlock with no keyhole, a golden handprint
Allies: Brigit, Kaduv, Madate
Enemies: Kajalla, Malis
Avatar: Wizard 20 / Cleric 5
Ashara takes the form of a half-elven female when she creates an avatar. She has dark brown hair and grey eyes, and she radiates an aura of respect and determination. The Promised Lady carries a magical staff called Leithendau, or Light in Darkness, the properties of which appear to be under her complete control. She sometimes leaves an imprint of her hand in gold as a sign; much time and energy has been devoted to unravelling the prophetic secrets of these divine relics.
Ashara is a youthful deity, only recently ascended to the ranks of the Dalerain. Her companions include Fistine, the only other prominent half-elven Dalerain, and Brigit, the Bright Lady of fire and poetry. She loathes the malicious falsehoods of Malis and Kajalla, and takes every opportunity she can to thwart the objectives of the two older divinities. She frequently involves herself with her priests, granting council, aid, and even intercession if necessary.
Ashara is worshipped by those hoping for improvements in their life, and good and honorable sorcerers, wizards, and bards, and her favor is sought by nearly everyone at one time or another. Her faithful trust that poor circumstances will get better, and those that keep faith and honor are rewarded. They are vigilant against the undead, holding that undeath is a promise of repose frustrated, and that to free the undead to pass on is one of the greatest gifts they can give.
True
Domains: Glory, Good, Law, Magic, Spells
Favored Weapon: Quarterstaff
Suggested Prestige Classes: Contemplative, Hunter of the Dead, Sacred Exorcist, Templar
Monday, August 24, 2009
Well, compiling my old writings has obviously taken a little more than a week. I'm up to 99 pages at the moment, and expect to add a few more (honestly. I'll be surprised if I hit 110...in this incarnation). I'm pretty well up-to-date on formatting and that sort of stuff, but the monsters still need some work (updating stat blocks, adding small bits of information that I was too lazy to do the first time around). Illustrations will probably wait for the next go-round with this manuscript.
Monday, August 3, 2009
The Smith's Wife
As it was told to me, so do I, Cheven os'Wend os'Kyulun, tell it to you. This paper is my tongue, this ink my voice. These facts were given to me by Scios Argentstone, called The Little, sage of the kingdom and scribe to Wesinol, King-in-Waiting of the noble realm of Thurinfel, Bulwark of the Misting Lands, the Jewel in the Horns.
In years long gone by, before the dragons were bent to the will of the gods and the giants fell, the Smith labored in the Underhalls of the Fortress of Tige, the citadel of the gods. In the expansive darkness, lit only by solitary torches and the flagrant illumination of the forge, he crafted wonders. The shield Culm was born in that echoing place, and it is said the thunder of that bulwark, that can send an army into retreat, is no more than the palest reflection of the sounds of the Smith at work.
The Smith had little patience for the vagaries and whims of other beings, and sought no company for himself. In solitude he labored, and in solitude lived his life. From time to time he bound demons or elementals to his service, but found the value of their assistance lessened with time, and the gratingly inflexible nature of their beings. Elementals shunned each other, and only those of fire and earth would willingly work the forge, but shunned the touch of water or the breath of the bellows. The daemonic servitors were even less successful; some shunned iron, others silver; on those occasions the Lord of the Forge had visitors the fiends were often unable to approach, or handle those instruments which the powers of weal had commissioned (indeed, it is rumored that the Chalice of Tears, that spiteful tool of chaos, was first corrupted by the errant touch of a fiend in the Underhalls, and it is for this reason it was so easily turned against the worshipers of the Gentle Goddess).
Likewise was the Smith dissatisfied in other matters. In his dreams, the restless and troubled creations of a sleeping god, he imagined a woman, one skilled in many arts, companion, helpmate, and lover in one. Long he considered this in his dreams, and then in his waking moments, until finally he took up hammer and tongs, and began to work.
She was cast from the purest silver and mithril, with diamonds for eyes and heart. She had knowledge of all the arts a woman should know, and those of the most skilled smiths as well. Her breath was frost and her skin no warmer than ice, and she took no notice of either heat or cold because of it. Her hair fell in platinum locks to her knees, and the Lord of Hammers wove her gowns and robes of gold and silver. She shone like the winter moon on a field of snow, and the darkness of the Underhalls was lessened.
It is not know how long she labored there, in the company of her husband and creator. She assisted Catil in all he did, and crafted great workings of her own; the Tapestry of Merlighol; Daishaironuoth, the enchanted jewel of the Fallen Kings of Throllier; and Iedain, the Crown of Songs, are all reputed to be creations of the Smith's Wife. She made no complaint to her lord that she never left the darkness of the Underhalls -- her own luminance was most familiar to her, though she had seen and was made most curious by the glimpses she had of starlight and sunlight that the Smith brought in for his work. She labored uncomplaining, satisfied to be in the company of her who had made her, and filled every need she had ever known.
The creation of the Smith's Sword was unknown to her; the God of Hammers had labored long and in solitude on that which he believed would bring him immortality greater than his undying life. Likewise was his punishment unknown to her; He Whose Name is Lost was cast from the Vale of Andÿn long before anyone thought to relate his passing to her, a construction of silver and mithril.
She sat without moving for many days after she was told, and then arose and left the darkness of the Underhalls of the Fortress of Tige. She left the forge unstoked, and the hammer where it lay, and entered into the sunlight. She traveled across the world, and saw the sun and the moon and the stars, and knew the feel of rain on her skin and sunlight on her brow. And where she traveled, she asked, until she heard of a man with no name, who knew not what he did or what he was, and she sought him out.
Tears of diamond fell from her eyes at the sight of her lord, and she rushed to him in pleasure, embracing him. But her heart turned inside her silver chest when his skin burned at her touch, for the Lord of the Dead had cursed the Lord of Smiths that his skin burned at the touch of metal, and there was no part of her that was not shaped from that substance. "I cannot touch you", he said to her. "Your skin is too cold, and it burns me," for he could not know what had been done to him, and she was colder than ice. And with these words she turned from him and left, for she knew she could bring no comfort to him.
The Smith's Wife sought the oldest wizards, and begged their council. "There is naught we can do", they said, after casting many spells over her. "The arts that have shaped you are far beyond our working." She sought out the priests and priestesses of Aeva, the Goddess of Life, and pleaded an audience with the wisest of them. "There is naught we can do", they said after much prayer. "You are no more alive than a coin of silver, and the arts to make you otherso are well beyond our ken." Finally, she sought out the deepest of the dwarfen folk, and bargained with them, gifting them with all the knowledge that was hers. "There is naught we will do," they said. "You have nothing left to bargain with. As you have given us knowledge, so shall we give the same to you. A heart of the purest gold will turn your skin to flesh and warm it with blood. A draught of the elixir of life will bring breath to your lips and motion to your limbs." This filled the Smith's Wife with despair, for she knew that she could never shape a heart to beat in her chest; only those who already know the beatings of such a thing could work such a wonder.
She withdrew unto herself, retreating to a desolate place to live apart from the living races she was no part of. In time the land around her grew cold as she was, and it was always winter. She received travelers with good cheer and willingness, but travelers were few and grew fewer as the frost retreated less before the summer. Now, the place of her dwelling is forgotten and her existence beyond the sphere of learning that most wise men inhabit. Only, perhaps, the dwarfen folk still pay her tidings, for it is from them that this tale is told, and it is from them that the greatest workings come in this age of pale miracles and withered wonders.
As it was told to me, so do I, Cheven os'Wend os'Kyulun, tell it to you. This paper is my tongue, this ink my voice. These facts were given to me by Scios Argentstone, called The Little, sage of the kingdom and scribe to Wesinol, King-in-Waiting of the noble realm of Thurinfel, Bulwark of the Misting Lands, the Jewel in the Horns. May the sun ever ride in the sky, and the moons ever follow. May the Lord of Words take notice of this tale and remember it.
ADOS PARENTI, SOVATUN ASSTINUM
C'W'K
In years long gone by, before the dragons were bent to the will of the gods and the giants fell, the Smith labored in the Underhalls of the Fortress of Tige, the citadel of the gods. In the expansive darkness, lit only by solitary torches and the flagrant illumination of the forge, he crafted wonders. The shield Culm was born in that echoing place, and it is said the thunder of that bulwark, that can send an army into retreat, is no more than the palest reflection of the sounds of the Smith at work.
The Smith had little patience for the vagaries and whims of other beings, and sought no company for himself. In solitude he labored, and in solitude lived his life. From time to time he bound demons or elementals to his service, but found the value of their assistance lessened with time, and the gratingly inflexible nature of their beings. Elementals shunned each other, and only those of fire and earth would willingly work the forge, but shunned the touch of water or the breath of the bellows. The daemonic servitors were even less successful; some shunned iron, others silver; on those occasions the Lord of the Forge had visitors the fiends were often unable to approach, or handle those instruments which the powers of weal had commissioned (indeed, it is rumored that the Chalice of Tears, that spiteful tool of chaos, was first corrupted by the errant touch of a fiend in the Underhalls, and it is for this reason it was so easily turned against the worshipers of the Gentle Goddess).
Likewise was the Smith dissatisfied in other matters. In his dreams, the restless and troubled creations of a sleeping god, he imagined a woman, one skilled in many arts, companion, helpmate, and lover in one. Long he considered this in his dreams, and then in his waking moments, until finally he took up hammer and tongs, and began to work.
She was cast from the purest silver and mithril, with diamonds for eyes and heart. She had knowledge of all the arts a woman should know, and those of the most skilled smiths as well. Her breath was frost and her skin no warmer than ice, and she took no notice of either heat or cold because of it. Her hair fell in platinum locks to her knees, and the Lord of Hammers wove her gowns and robes of gold and silver. She shone like the winter moon on a field of snow, and the darkness of the Underhalls was lessened.
It is not know how long she labored there, in the company of her husband and creator. She assisted Catil in all he did, and crafted great workings of her own; the Tapestry of Merlighol; Daishaironuoth, the enchanted jewel of the Fallen Kings of Throllier; and Iedain, the Crown of Songs, are all reputed to be creations of the Smith's Wife. She made no complaint to her lord that she never left the darkness of the Underhalls -- her own luminance was most familiar to her, though she had seen and was made most curious by the glimpses she had of starlight and sunlight that the Smith brought in for his work. She labored uncomplaining, satisfied to be in the company of her who had made her, and filled every need she had ever known.
The creation of the Smith's Sword was unknown to her; the God of Hammers had labored long and in solitude on that which he believed would bring him immortality greater than his undying life. Likewise was his punishment unknown to her; He Whose Name is Lost was cast from the Vale of Andÿn long before anyone thought to relate his passing to her, a construction of silver and mithril.
She sat without moving for many days after she was told, and then arose and left the darkness of the Underhalls of the Fortress of Tige. She left the forge unstoked, and the hammer where it lay, and entered into the sunlight. She traveled across the world, and saw the sun and the moon and the stars, and knew the feel of rain on her skin and sunlight on her brow. And where she traveled, she asked, until she heard of a man with no name, who knew not what he did or what he was, and she sought him out.
Tears of diamond fell from her eyes at the sight of her lord, and she rushed to him in pleasure, embracing him. But her heart turned inside her silver chest when his skin burned at her touch, for the Lord of the Dead had cursed the Lord of Smiths that his skin burned at the touch of metal, and there was no part of her that was not shaped from that substance. "I cannot touch you", he said to her. "Your skin is too cold, and it burns me," for he could not know what had been done to him, and she was colder than ice. And with these words she turned from him and left, for she knew she could bring no comfort to him.
The Smith's Wife sought the oldest wizards, and begged their council. "There is naught we can do", they said, after casting many spells over her. "The arts that have shaped you are far beyond our working." She sought out the priests and priestesses of Aeva, the Goddess of Life, and pleaded an audience with the wisest of them. "There is naught we can do", they said after much prayer. "You are no more alive than a coin of silver, and the arts to make you otherso are well beyond our ken." Finally, she sought out the deepest of the dwarfen folk, and bargained with them, gifting them with all the knowledge that was hers. "There is naught we will do," they said. "You have nothing left to bargain with. As you have given us knowledge, so shall we give the same to you. A heart of the purest gold will turn your skin to flesh and warm it with blood. A draught of the elixir of life will bring breath to your lips and motion to your limbs." This filled the Smith's Wife with despair, for she knew that she could never shape a heart to beat in her chest; only those who already know the beatings of such a thing could work such a wonder.
She withdrew unto herself, retreating to a desolate place to live apart from the living races she was no part of. In time the land around her grew cold as she was, and it was always winter. She received travelers with good cheer and willingness, but travelers were few and grew fewer as the frost retreated less before the summer. Now, the place of her dwelling is forgotten and her existence beyond the sphere of learning that most wise men inhabit. Only, perhaps, the dwarfen folk still pay her tidings, for it is from them that this tale is told, and it is from them that the greatest workings come in this age of pale miracles and withered wonders.
As it was told to me, so do I, Cheven os'Wend os'Kyulun, tell it to you. This paper is my tongue, this ink my voice. These facts were given to me by Scios Argentstone, called The Little, sage of the kingdom and scribe to Wesinol, King-in-Waiting of the noble realm of Thurinfel, Bulwark of the Misting Lands, the Jewel in the Horns. May the sun ever ride in the sky, and the moons ever follow. May the Lord of Words take notice of this tale and remember it.
ADOS PARENTI, SOVATUN ASSTINUM
C'W'K
Tuesday, July 28, 2009
Posting will be light
Posting will probably be light for a few days. I've been contributing some of my old d20 material to the DM Sketchpad (http://grandwiki.wikidot.com/dm-sketchpad) over at the Grand OGL Wiki, and in doing so realized that I've actually got quite alot of finished or nearly finished material sitting around. So, I'm pulling it all together with the intention of releasing it as a free pdf in the near future. I'll have all the templates together and more or less formatted shortly, then I'll pull the monsters in, and then the remainder (spells, feats, magic items, & etc). I'm planning on updating the monster formats to the most recent standard, but if I get bogged down I'll ditch it. Then I'll add art (I used to buy a lot of the publisher art packs on RPGNow), and hopefully be done! Some of this will be really quick (spells, feats, magic items), so I'm hoping this will be all done in the next week or so. The hardest part will be unearthing all the little bits from the various files in my computer.
I'd be happy to have people look it over before "final" release; just drop me an email or leave a comment.
I'd be happy to have people look it over before "final" release; just drop me an email or leave a comment.
Friday, July 24, 2009
Monsters in the Shadowend, Tome of Horrors (A)
One of my many incomplete projects was to go through the Tome of Horrors (from Necromancer Games) and write a quick sentence describing where a creature might appear. I haven't gotten very far yet, but someday....
Adhererer: Adherers are sometimes found in the Hundred Kingdoms, particularly between Chollor and Starfell, and southwards.
Algoid: Algoids often arise around the periphery of the Glimmering Plain, as magically-tainted waters leave the Plains and broaden into small marshes and stagnant pools.
Al-mi’raj: Al-mi’raj, and other mi’raj creatures, are often found on the Glimmering Plain and surrounding lands. They are also encountered around the Wall Wood.
Archer Bush: Archer bushes can be found in most secluded woodlands around the Shadowend. They are often eradicated near large settled communities, but numerous woodland people use them as guardians, leashing them in place with a stout rope.
Aurumvorax: Golden gorgers are found in the Near North from the Middurplanz to Kameurgard and north into the Horns, where they are zealously hunted by the dwarves.
Axe Beak: Axe beaks are found on the Glimmering Plain and around the periphery, in Chollor, Romagna, Everglass, and Asavar.
Adhererer: Adherers are sometimes found in the Hundred Kingdoms, particularly between Chollor and Starfell, and southwards.
Algoid: Algoids often arise around the periphery of the Glimmering Plain, as magically-tainted waters leave the Plains and broaden into small marshes and stagnant pools.
Al-mi’raj: Al-mi’raj, and other mi’raj creatures, are often found on the Glimmering Plain and surrounding lands. They are also encountered around the Wall Wood.
Archer Bush: Archer bushes can be found in most secluded woodlands around the Shadowend. They are often eradicated near large settled communities, but numerous woodland people use them as guardians, leashing them in place with a stout rope.
Aurumvorax: Golden gorgers are found in the Near North from the Middurplanz to Kameurgard and north into the Horns, where they are zealously hunted by the dwarves.
Axe Beak: Axe beaks are found on the Glimmering Plain and around the periphery, in Chollor, Romagna, Everglass, and Asavar.
Tuesday, July 21, 2009
Dalerain V: Lady of Vengeance [Dalerain]
Adosil
Lady of Vengeance, The Feuding Goddess, the Viper Who Bites Twice
Demi-power of the Dalerain
Major AoC: Humiliation, Revenge, Spite
Minor AoC: Plotting, Ironic Justice
Symbol: A black banner, a snake consuming it's own tail, a twisted arrow or crossbow bolt
Allies: Kajalla, Talabas
Enemies: Madate
Avatar: Rogue 16 / Sorcerer 8
Adosil takes the shape of either a woman or a man, with curly black hair and green eyes. She carries a crossbow in any form, and can bestow it as a gift upon anyone who has won her favor with a particularly appropriate or long-held revenge (it is a hand or small crossbow +3, and creates it's own missiles when cocked). Her own crossbow is known as Blessings Returned.
Adosil is one of the younger Dalerain, and nurses many grudges for real and imagined slights from the other powers. Her only allies among the powers are Kajalla, who is doubtlessly friendly with the Lady of Vengeance for her own reasons, and Talabas, who enjoys the opportunities for destruction Adosil brings him.
She is sought out by those who feel they have been wronged and long for vengeance, and appeased by cautious people who seek to avoid offending others. Her priests and followers never forget a slight, whether real or imagined, and will nurse a grudge for years, plotting revenge. They are dangerous in their tenacity and unforgiveness -- the followers of the Feuding Goddess neither forgive nor forget.
Lady of Vengeance, The Feuding Goddess, the Viper Who Bites Twice
Demi-power of the Dalerain
Major AoC: Humiliation, Revenge, Spite
Minor AoC: Plotting, Ironic Justice
Symbol: A black banner, a snake consuming it's own tail, a twisted arrow or crossbow bolt
Allies: Kajalla, Talabas
Enemies: Madate
Avatar: Rogue 16 / Sorcerer 8
Adosil takes the shape of either a woman or a man, with curly black hair and green eyes. She carries a crossbow in any form, and can bestow it as a gift upon anyone who has won her favor with a particularly appropriate or long-held revenge (it is a hand or small crossbow +3, and creates it's own missiles when cocked). Her own crossbow is known as Blessings Returned.
Adosil is one of the younger Dalerain, and nurses many grudges for real and imagined slights from the other powers. Her only allies among the powers are Kajalla, who is doubtlessly friendly with the Lady of Vengeance for her own reasons, and Talabas, who enjoys the opportunities for destruction Adosil brings him.
She is sought out by those who feel they have been wronged and long for vengeance, and appeased by cautious people who seek to avoid offending others. Her priests and followers never forget a slight, whether real or imagined, and will nurse a grudge for years, plotting revenge. They are dangerous in their tenacity and unforgiveness -- the followers of the Feuding Goddess neither forgive nor forget.
Sunday, July 19, 2009
Alorm Peak
Alorm Peak: The highest and westernmost peak of Sarn, Alorm Peak is a slender spired edifice of stone. Its uppermost reaches gleam with snow and ice throughout the year, (though taller peaks to the east are bare by Midsummer), and the lower slopes are a treacherous maze of bare-shouldered ridges and densely forested vales. Many people believe Alorm (from Elven, ashail al lorim, or “Point to the Sky”) a sacred site, and ancient tombs, cairns, and crypts abound around the mountain. The natives (human, humanoid, and otherwise), avoid the mountain out of respect for (and fear of) the dead.
The many tombs lure a few treasure seekers, but most look for pickings closer to Shalaen or Larenyss proper. Nonetheless, a number of bands are drawn by the promise of untouched magics. Known and rumored complexes include the great funerary maze of the archmage Isadollin, famous for her staff of power won from a great red wyrm; the Haunting Halls of the Herald-Lords, masters of musical magery; a series of crypts used by the Autumn Kings, who ruled a small but rich kingdom for several centuries; and the final foul resting place of a high priest of Nevias, who terrorized the populace as a vampire after his first death, and whose malignant spirit was finally imprisoned by Biedon Houl, Clerist Arcanist of Ados, at the cost of his own life.
The many tombs lure a few treasure seekers, but most look for pickings closer to Shalaen or Larenyss proper. Nonetheless, a number of bands are drawn by the promise of untouched magics. Known and rumored complexes include the great funerary maze of the archmage Isadollin, famous for her staff of power won from a great red wyrm; the Haunting Halls of the Herald-Lords, masters of musical magery; a series of crypts used by the Autumn Kings, who ruled a small but rich kingdom for several centuries; and the final foul resting place of a high priest of Nevias, who terrorized the populace as a vampire after his first death, and whose malignant spirit was finally imprisoned by Biedon Houl, Clerist Arcanist of Ados, at the cost of his own life.
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