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An old, bloated sun turns in the sky. Its rays fall upon a world covered in thick, roiling clouds, making them glow a deep crimson with its wearied light. Continuous rain and snow fall from these clouds, like drops of blood from an unhealing wound...
Three thousand, three hundred and fifty eight circlings of the bloated sun, Døende Aske, before the Years of Frost (YoF), the Winterhaunt of Iborighu called forth a fracturing in the ice of a frozen sea. These powerful clerics, long since consumed and transformed into being of pure frost by their chill god, opened a rift, a mere fingerhold into the world from his bitter realm. But a finger was all that was required for Iborighu to manipulate the forces of nature.
For eight hundreds of years they had waited for the coming of the wandering star to approach. The star that flew with frozen dew upon its plumage. The feathery ghostliness it left behind it was the streaming of a cosmic blizzard and not flame, they were assured. This star was colder than the deepest ice of Hearth. And so with intricate measuring they awaited its closest passing and so began their ritual. With but a nudge the power of Iborighu altered the comet's direction and it streaked down towards the great frozen ocean of the south. There lived Hleid, mother deity of the uldra race and those of the arctics. She was struck and shattered like a snowflake on stone.
The impact was so great that not only did it pierce the ocean, but it delved deep into the crust itself. A great wave of ice, soil and water lifted up and froze, forming a mountain that reached past the clouds. The center of the peak sloped within itself straight down for miles. At the bottom lay a vast portal that connected the prison plane of Iborighu with that of Hearth. From this portal erupted Iborighu. His worshipers rejoiced while the others of the world reacted with terror.
The impact caused flooding for hundreds of miles past their original boundaries, and dust and water vapor within several weeks completely surrounded the planet. Blocked from sight was the view of the great red sun for centuries to come.
The victory of the followers of Iborighu was not complete however, for the followers of Pelor, those lovers of light and warmth, and the greatest of the druids from all corners of the globe, came together. With their combined efforts the stone below the feet of much of the world was shifted, and heat allowed to flow nearer the surface. Volcanoes were reborn, hot springs bubbled, and geysers erupted. Millions of people scattered across dozens of races perished but those whom survived either adapted and learned to thrive in the frostfell or they congregated together and built towns in harmony with the life giving heat from below.
-=-=-=-=-
Timeline
Spoiler
WT - Warmer Times YoF - Years of Frost
1,210,619 WT - The Midgards, the descendants of dwarves and their entire mountain, are cast down from the outer planes onto Hearth.
1,205,009 WT - A nymph and a chieftain of the great wise apes of the north fall in love. Their union is blessed by the upper planes so as to become the dominant race of the lands above, to discourage the spread of the Dwarves. Born is the first Neanderthal, ancestor of all humans. He takes a nymph wife as well. His children breed amongst the nymphs and wise apes.
They begin their own race, though a rift begins between the children of stronger nymph bloodlines and those with a stronger wise ape bloodline. One is fairer, more intelligent and adventurous while the others stronger, coarser, and taken to instinct.
1,201,579 WT - Neanderthals of a nymph tribe discover how to control fire. This begins a great war that spreads across all the tribes of the world. This fire-tribe begins a great burning to remove the gorilla tribes.
1,200,401 WT - The nymph tribe, who will later become known as Humans, become the dominant race of the neanderthals of the world.
The gorilla tribes driven into the cold are forced to become strong or die, and eventually take up the handle of Orc.
11,000 WT - Humans journey into the Heska mountain range, and begin building what will eventually become Licc.
2,851 WT - Poqt is settled by a religious sect.
809 WT - The Winterhaunt formulate their long-term plan to strike open a crack into the prison plane of Iborighu by using a comet that appears in the skies, and was written to have been seen 800 years before as well.
0 Yof - Through the combined efforts of the Winterhaunt, an epic spell is cast, diverting the comet to the southern pole. The pole is struck, casting an already cool world into a permanent ice age.
1 YoF - The entire world rocks from continuous earthquakes as the mantle is shifted to bring up heat from below. The Fevered Mount is awakened and warm-weather plants and animals are transported there for survival.
73 YoF Harkatottom is born, the second generation of half-orcs.
166 YoF Harkatottom dies and travels to the spirit world, where he gains deity status.
157 Yof - The valley of Gelid Falls is discovered by a band of survivors from the south.
305 YoF - Emperor Laffin is born to his human mother and fossergrimm father.
374 YoF - The Emperor's Highway begins construction to connect the human colonies with the others.
514 YoF - The Treaty of Red Dew is made between faerie kind and mortals.
565 YoF - Croakine is colonized.
2006 YoF - Glacier dwarves discover the Azure Floe and build a mining colony.
2200 YoF - Swiftly Rising is colonized by Raptorans as a fort city.
3050 YoF - Chaunelfiel is settled by the Motard family.
3296 - Warlord Teh is born.
3325 YoF - Salkin Motard is born.
3355 YoF - Work to begin colonization of The Pass begins.
3358 YoF - Current Date
Last edited by The Vorpal Tribble : 01-22-2011 at 04:04 PM.
Souquist, or Hearth as most now call their world, is a very cold world. And wet, oh so wet. The rain is ever present, whether it take the form of a light mist or a roaring blizzard. The sun is but a red myth beneath the unabating cloudcover. And always there are the mountains, many pouring with icy waterfalls into equally icy rivers. A thousand or so mile band of green encircles the equator where temperatures normally remain above freezing year round. Most of this green is in mountain valleys, for very little in this world approaches flat.
Slightly over 40,000 miles around the equator, Hearth is vast in area, though comparatively scarce in metals, so as the world's gravity is only marginally increased. This increased gravity is just enough to put a heavier frame of muscle on its inhabitants.
The sky is moonless, though a super abundance of stars in the sky shine brighter than a full moon every night. With the cloud cover, however, the nights are dark indeed. The darkness glows with foxfire and fungi, as well as nocturnal creatures adapted to the pitch of Hearth's nights.
The impact of the comet, instead of knocking the planet askew, straightened it, so that no seasons exist as we know them, and at the poles the sun never truly sets.
The sun of Hearth, called Aske Døende, or Dying Ember, is a red, bloated sphere that takes up a tenth of the sky. It is an old sun that sometime in the far future will engulf the world of Hearth, and all will perish.
The Ring is a 1,000-2,000 mile wide band of greenery that extends around the planet's equator. Here temperatures are merely cool other than cold compared to the rest of the world, generally remaining above freezing even at night (standard average temp 55-60 degrees Fahrenheit). Cold rainforests are the norm, slowly giving way to vast boreal forests at the borders. In these areas life is rampant, if always somewhat damp. Mushrooms and other fungus grow in a profusion difficult to comprehend, for in the ring, if it is not regularly cleaned, something will eventually grow upon it. Many of the world's diseases can be healed by one knowledgeable in their medicinal purposes. On the flipside, the most common ailments are also of fungal origin. Skin diseases and those of a respiratory nature from spores are the cause of 99% of natural illnesses.
This is where the majority of Hearth's races exist. Under the rule of Emperor Laffin, roads have been stretched more than halfway around the Ring, connecting many long forgotten cities and villages to the mainstream of civilization.
Gelid Falls
- Lurkstock Moors
Spoiler
Gelid Falls is the human capital of Laffin's Empire, situated within a vast mountain valley between two mountain ranges. This valley is dominated by a broad, slow moving river fed by a series of waterfalls that flow off the frozen peaks above. The river floats for many miles before emptying into Lake Soothing, a lake so large it is a veritable sea. The lake is heated and though it is cool at its edges, the close you get to the middle the hotter it gets till it steams. Hot springs and geysers nearby the lake are common, and the bath-houses and spas of Gelid Falls are legendary, supposedly possessing amazing healing properties. The lake then leaks out into another river which flows a hairpin course to the Ochine Ocean itself.
Surrounding both sides of the river and around the lake are thousands of homes and businesses, and to the northeast starts the vast moors where farms and livestock are raised. All the trails within the moors eventually lead to the Emperor's Highway, a broad street of stones that winds its way from the lake, through the city center, past the homes of the wealthy near the Falls themselves, and up into the mountains where it finds its way to most of the human towns in the Ring. This road is daily checked for obstructions that would halt commerce.
Gelid Falls is a wet place, even by Hearth standards, and most of the morning and evening, as well as the night is full of a chill, thick mist if by the river, or a warm fog if nearby the lake.
Emperor's Falls
The entire face of the mountainside about the falls has been carved with painstaking care to resemble the front of a castle, and indeed has many windows cut into the sheer rock for those within to gaze out upon the valley. There resides the Emperor and the Council.
The actual entrance is set within a deep cavern worn out of the mountainside by the falls further down the river. Only barges and other watercraft can reach there, flowing into the cavern where a lake puddles. Men, horses, whatever needs to venture within, are let out of the boats onto the rocky shore. Many dozens of broad upwards sloping tunnels take one into the vast networking of connecting halls and rooms of the palace.
Banner/Colors: The banner of Gelid Falls is vertically long and is pure white with silver edges with three waterfalls in blue falling down its entire length and merging to splash off a golden arch that dominates the bottom, and puddling in swirling currents. A stone throne rests within the water beneath the arch, seating a bearded figure in silver robes with mist billowing behind him.
Population: 80,000-90,000; 70% human, 25% dwarven, 3% wild children, 1% kenku, and sprinkling of cheval, genasi, okilei, trufflefolk and free peoples. Also the usual domovoi in the occasional household.
Primary Language: Common
Year of Establishment: 304 YoF (Year of Frost)
--------------
| GOVERNMENT |
--------------
Government:
Gelid Falls is ruled over by the Emperor who rules for life. He is chosen by the Judges of the Cold Guard, Generals of the Fell Fallmen, and the Heads of the Houses (aristocratic faction, generally consisting of the wealthiest merchants, mayors ((of which there are three; two for each end of Gelid Falls, and the moors)) and other wealthy and influential folk.)
Government popularity:
All in all the Emperor is a popular figure amongst the human and dwarven people, for if he were to become unfair or cruel he could be brought down by the Cold Guard, whose leaders are brought to power by the people.
Army:
The Emporer retains massive barges where his soldiers, the Fell Fallmen as most call them, are trained and housed. At a moment's notice they can be shipped to any area along the length of the river or lake.
Defenses:
Gelid Falls is ideally situated with only one main road, which always has a small company of look-outs ready to start a small but effective avalanche to block the passage. Otherwise an army must attack by coming down the sides of the steep cliffs themselves, and wet ones at that. Any troop movements coming up from the moors can be seen for many many miles, removing the element of surprise.
Primary Enemy:
Gelid Falls has not been under attack for nearly 400 years. A persistent but generally merely annoying organization of river pirates however are known to make the occasional raid. Their main craft remains miles out of sight within the river leading out of the lake, sending dozens of smaller boats out across the river to wreak havoc in such a broad area that few know they are being raided. The boats then sail back to the main ship which then disappears into one of the many hundreds of branches the river takes.
Fighting Style:
Soldiers of the emperor and towns guardsmen are trained mainly with reach weapons such as halberds and guisarmes, which are best for fighting from their barges or snagging those hiding within the fogs the city is famous for.
Fell Fallman [General]
Prerequisites: Base Attack Bonus +1
Region: Gelid Falls
Benefit: You have had some training within the ranks of the Fell Fallmen and are used to fighting in murky surroundings. You can see an extra five feet than usual in fogs and mists and your opponent does not have concealment from you unless he's too far to see at all.
Special: A fighter may select Fell Fallman as one of his fighter bonus feats.
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| SOCIETY |
-----------
Slavery:
Slavery does not exist, nor ever has within the capital, though indentured servitude is common place.
Constabulary:
There are two forces at work in the Gelid Falls. Those of the Emperor and those of the City. The Fell Fallmen are of the emperor, and after their first year of training they may leave the service of the Emperor for the City. They become one of the ranks of the Cold Guard who patrol the streets in wind, rain and the fog of night. When it comes to law they are above even the emperor and the aristocracy, upholding the laws regardless of the culprit. These men are chosen by the Judges of Gelid Falls who in turn are voted in by the people of the city. The Cold Guard are chosen for their sense of what is Just and Right without a thought to who breaks the laws, just that they have. By law the lowliest lieutenant can arrest even the Emperor, though in the history of the city such has never actually occurred.
Laws:
<<Work in progress>>
Dueling - Though dueling is allowed, there are provisions. First, neither dueler may not have:
#1. Young children, or wife with child
#2. Outstanding debts
#3. Indentured servitude under another
Method of execution:
Only the Emperor or the combined agreement of the Judges may sentence a man to death, and this death is brought up painlessly by exposing them to the fumes of certain pools on the outskirts of Gelid Falls which causes a man to fall asleep and soon die.
Organized Crime:
There is a well-organized smuggler/black market movement referred to as the Wisp and is rumored to be led by a changeling refereed to as the Countenance, but is in fact a circle of eleven people who work together to bring about the illusion of their being one man ruling over all. This consists of seven humans (2 women, 5 men, with one of the men being a small but highly intelligent midget), two dwarven men, a cheval woman, and a true changeling without known gender. None have ever been seen together, or even in sight of the other, and indeed have not been since the organization was formed, though the changeling is the official voice carrying the news from one to the other. They are the masterminds of the raids by the supposed river pirates, which is used as a cover for the true goings on. The goods stolen are often found on caravans coming back into Gelid Falls where they are resold, none knowing they are often rebuying their own product. Many other underhanded deals are also orchestrated by the Wisp, but even those planted by the Cold Guard rarely have any idea what they are truly doing.
Common skills of inhabitants:
Though nigh any craft is pursued somewhere within the expanse of gelid falls, stone carving, masonry, boat building, rope/net making, and weaving are common crafts in the main city. Out in the country everything from leather working, thatching and brewing can be found.
Clothing:
The common inhabitants of gelid falls normally dress in thick fleece sweaters (or long, ankle-length skirts) or insulated robes. The wealthy tend to wear flimsier, more extravagant dress, though almost always with hooded cloaks and capes to keep out the moisture.
-------
Lurkstock Moors
When exploration continued past the Laffin's River, past Lake Soothing, a further pleasant surprise was discovered. For nearly a hundred miles spread great hills of heath and mosses, a land fertile and rich. Endless small creeks and ponds speckled the landscape. It soon became a flourishing farming community with plenty of land for any who were willing to work it. Despite the large numbers who took to it there are still untold hundreds if not thousands of acres of land still unexplored. Certain areas are deemed cursed, and it is considered bad luck to venture in the darkness too far from the towns. Strange creatures have been spotted in the nights, and glowing lights, but even the occasional searching of skillful rangers rarely turns up any evidence.
With the nearby mountains bordering the lands, it is quite possible that in the safety of the dark creatures come down off the heights. Some merely to feed on the rich grasses, others to taste of the men who plow the fields.
The leader of the moorlands is a sort of mayor who governs in the Emperor's stead this comparatively near yet practically distant land. This mayor is usually a farmer and/or rancher himself, though generally one of the more successful and respected in the community. He retains his position till he resigns or another who shows himself to be of greater wisdom and ability is voted to take his place.
Fierce dogs and tamed boars are generally the only protection needed by the inhabitants, though the occasional thief or nocturnal beast still pose a threat.
Chaunelfiel
Spoiler
Chaunelfiel, also known as Motard's Vineyard, is a large, picturesque agricultural town of steep, shaggy foothills at the base of the grand mountains to the north. It is located right on the southern edges of the Ring, where the temperatures become frigid. But in the ice-streaked mountains nearby is grown what has made the town famous; the unique cold-loving grapes used to make frostwine.
Government: The people of Chaunelfiel swear allegiance to the Motard family, the first settlers in this land. They tilled the first dirt and planted the first grapes. Over several generations the vines thrived and required more workers to care for them with each passing year. Those who came to Motard's Vineyard to work were treated well and the wages given were fair.
Within another two generations the small farm had grown into a village and then a town. Forests were planted in the lower lying sections; saplings brought with much care from the river-side woods of Gelid Falls. They grew and the Motard Manor, a great house, was built from its first downed logs along with great the stone of the mountain. Other crops were sewn as well so that they would not have to risk the shipments from the capital, but what brought them to fame was their frostwine. This wine is kept within vast caverns beneath the estate, specially chosen for this purpose. The Motards eventually became one of the wealthiest families of the Ring, but always they remembered their humble beginnings, taught from son to son, and they treated those who aided in the toil of the vineyards as equals.
Government popularity: The Motards, amongst their own people, are rarely ill received, though their success and popularity have made them enemies of the envious.
Army/Defenses: Chaunelfiel is guarded by the Blue Phoenices in greater numbers than any other human town for its size. Always having treated the organization with respect, a full base was established closeby the frozen vines within the heights above the town proper.
Primary Enemy: Chaunelfiel has a variety of those who wish them ill, particularly the Nerra allied with the Winterhaunt.
Fighting Style: See Blue Phoenices
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| SOCIETY |
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Constabulary: Only trusted friends of the Motard family are allowed to join the small but effective guards of Chaunelfiel. They are little more than rangers with a keen knowledge of the land, and walks the forests, hills and vineyards without any strict pattern, keeping an eye out for odd happenings. Those they find disobeying the laws of the Emperor and tenets of the Motards are judged by said family.
Laws:
Murder - Murderers of Chaunelfiel are banned from the town, never allowed to return. If one performs multiple murders however he is sent to Gelid Falls for punishment, hauled aloft within the talons of the mount of a blue phoenices.
Rape - Rape within Chaunelfiel is dealt by branding a deep scar within the forehead and hands of the offender. He is then left to beg on the streets, stripped of all belongings and tends to starve to death, for all know what the mark means.
Theft - Theft results in the thief being given the more dangerous, strenuous or plain unpleasant tasks. Those who perform multiple thefts regardless are banished with the mark limited to his hands.
Organized Crime: The lands about Chaunelfiel are commonly watched by bandits ready to ambush shipments of wine to and from the town. They are not in any great numbers, but the roads between towns are long and even the Blue Pheonices would be hard pressed to guard its entire length.
Common skills of inhabitants: Vineyard tending and the trades of the wine industry are an art that citizens of Chaunelfiel have few equals in.
Clothing: Similar to other towns, though often with the symbol of the Motards somewhere upon them; a shovel and an ice-cycle crossed above a grape leaf.
Emperor's Highway
Spoiler
The Emperor's Highway is the longest road on Hearth, stretching from the Ochine to the very outskirts of Licc. It took the combined efforts of thousands of men and millions of dwarves centuries to construct, going right through mountainsides themselves and weaving around lakes and locales of particular danger, such as The Tangle.
It is nearly 11,000 miles in total length, and every 50-100 miles or so is a guard station, most of which has had a small village grow up around it. Almost all human villages of the Empire are built nearby the highway.
Its length is patrolled in particular by the Blue Phoenices, but also by imperial guards and Horizon Walkers who've sworn allegiance to the Emperor. Many live their entire life upon the road, born at one end, and traveling every day still never see the end of it before they die. Entire wandering cultures have developed upon the highway, many always hoping to someday make the pilgrimage their parents or grandparents may have started to Gelid Falls.
Goodwives are also not uncommon sights, tending tiny roadside shrines or traveling to visit and bless yet one more town and its peoples.
The Pass
Spoiler
You stand upon a road of flat stones at the base of twin mountains within the midst of a hilly wood. Before you is a huge wall constructed from the logs of entire redwoods. The logs are from smallish redwood trees, a bit thicker than a human is tall and placed in massive vertical ruts picked out of the stone on each side of the valley. A monstrous gate large enough to admit several wagons side by side is set in the center of the wall by massive blue ice hinges. The log sections used in the construction of the gate are strongly bound with iron bands. At about human chest level there is a barred window on the door revealing a long road continuing out of sight. A guard comes to the window and looks you over carefully before nodding.
With a slight squeak the gate swings in, treating you to an impressive view. Not far from the gate the land dips down gradually, yet extensively, into a narrow valley between the looming faces of the two rocky giants. The bottom of the valley is vague with drifting fog, though ancient evergreens soar above it. Behind you the door swings shut and a bar carved out an entire tree thunks down into place. Three guards are required to tug on the rope and pulley system that lifts and lots the bar. Steps lead up the log wall on both distant sides, and though unseen before, watchmen patrol along the deep walkways carved into the topmost logs. Several cabins rest against the wall along its base.
Following along the path you notice how the air quickly becomes much damper and likewise warmer. The sound of many excited dogs echoes around, as well as the occasional deep rumble of a megaloceros and the neighing of horses. The flora become even more impressive as you dip down into the valley, towering out of sight. Hemlock, spruce, redwood, all types of great conifers, block out much of the sunlight and are shaggy with moss and lichens. Aside from a few shrubs the only real groundcover are low-growing ferns of widely splayed fronds. Trails of shredded wood however branch from the path, leading out into the forest. The path of stones below you already are beginning to grow moss within their wide cracks, softening the step.
Said path leads more or less straight, into the bottom of the valley which is a great clearing, with all but the tallest trees moved away. Cabins speckle the valley, of both small and considerable sizes. Many have wooden fences around them within which lean, shaggy sled dogs dash about energetically. Communal bonfires blaze within clumps of tents, the aromatic smoke mixing in with the fog to further obscure the sky above.
Within the middle of the clearing a truly enormous redwood log that looks to have been dead for some time lies across with a tunnel carved through its middle. A large wooden sign hangs overhead by chains just within the tunnel reading:
The Pass
Established by Lord Salkin Motard
Dedicated to the memory of Burgen Motard
Once out of the clearing the ground starts to becoming rocky, and the woods narrow and almost peter out to be replaced with a chasm worn out of the rock. Water from far above constantly trickles down its black surface which is speckled with mosses and lichens that cling tenaciously to their moist haven. Wild rhododendron grow at the bases and even in the sparse pockets of captured soil up its side. The chasm opens and rises slightly into another very large area about the stone. The floor of this vast rise has been leveled and bricked. A circular stage has been erected in the middle, with several sets of stairs leading up around its circumference.
There are two openings in the sides of the mountain here, though one in particular immediately catches the eye.
Quote:
-=-=-=-=-=-
The Gaping Maw
Drawn by request by Meatboy of the Wizard.com forums. All rights reserved.
You are in front of a large opening in the side of the mountain. The opening has been expertly carved to resemble somewhat a widely opened mouth. A row of jagged tooth-like projections hang from the top of the cave. Above that are two slitted, reptilian eyes with deep bags. The shape of the eyes are such that the bags collect the continuously trickling rainwater. A flickering glow comes from the water in the familiar color of hearthfire.
Below the eyes are a couple simple holes drilled to look like nostrils with a metal ring going through them. A large wooden sign hangs from the ring with words carved and then burned into the wood, reading 'The Gaping Maw'. Smoke and steam constantly rises from the nostrils, smelling of cooking meats and boiling stews. Those who peer hard (DC 20 spot check) see the sooty faces of three tiny children within the nostrils watching the bustle outside the inn-trance.
A road gutter is carved before the opening, allowing rain or the moisture from snow-laden boots to trickle down and away. A gradual brick incline leads up the hallway which extends some twenty feet, with lamps illuminating the way. A long message board has been fit into the stone near the entrance on the right side, though only a familiar flier advertising the race has yet been tacked on. At the top shifts a curtain of firesoak silk of the deepest brown shade with weighted edges to keep it from blowing in the wind from outside. A symbol has been woven into the curtain on both sides with silver thread, depicting a shovel and an ice-cycle crossed above a grape leaf (a successful DC 15 Knowledge: Nobility check reveals it as the crest of the Motards).
Pushing against the curtain, which is warm and silky to the touch, has it split in the middle. A blast of blessedly warm air greets you as you step through, filled with the smells of food from the common to the exotic.
You find yourself in a vast grotto that has naturally formed from the side of the mountain, though much of it has been worked to suit the layout of the inn. Within this massive cavern is a wider variety of races than is normally seen anywhere else, though all of hardy peoples. Tables and chairs of redwood seat human, dwarf, and half-orc, while a raptoran or two grip large circular rings that surrounds very low-set tables. Piles of thick furs lie in the more private sections of the cavern where aloof catfolk and shifters reside. The cavernous roof is nearly lost in the shadows above, illuminated slightly by dozens of large, wheeled chandeliers of bronze set with brightly burning oil sconces and held by heavy chains. The chains are threaded through irons loop on the roof and then wrapped about cranks on the far walls for lowering and rising. The floor is expertly bricked, and seems to absorb the warmth in the air.
To the left as you enter many benches, leather chairs, and skins sit upon the floor before an enormous hearth large enough for several humans to stand upright in and deep enough for them to lie in. Entire logs crackle within, pouring heat into the room. A wide opening above the hearth has been drilled into the sheer stone at an angle to draw out the smoke. A few hairy, soot-covered Domovoi roam about within the blistering heat, tending the fires and occasionally climbing iron hand-holds leading up into the flue.
An ancient iron candle holder is set on the stone mantle (A DC 10 Knowledge: Religion check reveals it is lit in deference to Estanna, goddess of home and hearth). A large painting is set high up the wall above the mantle, out of the radiant heat. It shows a man reaching middle age standing upon a downed redwood. He appears somewhat fair of face which is framed by a full black beard, trimmed with care. He has wide shoulders and a thin waist, and though a bit to the leaner side, he looks a very sturdy figure. He is dressed in a rich black overcoat lined with fur, but is partially opened in front, showing only a loose white shirt and vest below.
Seated on one of the benches is Mahogany, an ugly, kind-looking old fellow telling a story with a great many gestures, sometimes even standing to act out bits of it. All around him are held enthralled, sometimes laughing, other times having to wipe away a tear, but at all times hanging on to his every word. Even the domovoi tending the fires stop from time to time in their work to listen in.
---
The entire right wall as you enter is dominated by the trunk of a small redwood, coated well with preservative. The top has been planed and then sanded and polished till it resembles red silk. Behind the bar deep shelves have been cut into the stone, showing bottles of all kinds and makes. The topmost row however has a faint mist rising off the bottles of a translucent, azure substance that can be nothing other than blue ice in which he always keeps his famous frostwine.
Done by request by SilverSlivers of the Wizard.com forum (aka SilverWings here on GITP). all rights reserved.
A set of double doors is set in the next wall, from which servants come in and out of, and is obviously the doorway to the kitchen.
Far ahead on the opposite wall from which you entered is chiseled a flight of wide stairs leading into the ceiling. Redwood slats are bolted into the stone, and a sturdy iron and wood handrail follows alongside.
If the players wish to pay for a room within the inn they are told that for the racers, accommodations are free (though the food and drink are not). Up the stairs is simply a hallway cut into the stone and bricked. Thick redwood doors with iron handles and locks lines either side of the hallway, lit by several more oil chandeliers above. A long carpet extends the length of the hall, ending at a large set of double doors with the Motard crest upon them. Players who try it find the doors are firmly locked. This is because they are merely attached to the stone with nothing beyond them.
The other doorways are very much real and lead into small but cozy bedrooms. A large rope bed with several quilts and pillows rests at the far end of the room, with an unlockable chest at its base. Against the wall to the right as you enter is a small, mantleless coal stove with a full bucket of fuel beside it and a bit of flint with a steel striker. A poker and bed warmer set against the wall by the stove. On the opposite wall is a simple wooden table and chair with an iron pitcher and bowl, as well as a candle holder with a thick twisting candle rising from it.
The Cellar
Behind the bar is a large wooden door set into the stone floor with an iron pull ring. One who tugs on it though finds it budges not, no matter how much. For hidden behind a barrel on the far side of the bar is the handle to an iron rod that goes completely through the stone into iron loops on the bottom of the door (a DC 30 strength check is required to pull open the door while so locked).
It leads to a combination of subterranean wine cellar and shelter. Extremely wide stairs are cut into the rock and layed with brick lead down into the darkness. This cavern appears to be somewhat natural, though like most of the Gaping Maw it has been expertly excavated to enlarge the available space. Entire walls are full of bottle-sized holes drilled into the stone, surrounded by cork for cushioning of the bottles. Along the bottom half though are massive wine, mean, and beer barrels set into large cubbies. At the far back of the room a truly enormous barrel-like structure leans against the wall with a door set into it. Inside is a bed of dwarven make, and various odd and ends mostly in the way of stone sculptures and carvings; possessions of Still, for in this place he lives in the darkness when he is not needed, as is to his liking.
What is not known by but a few however is that this entire barrel may be swung with much effort to reveal a tunnel leading hundreds of feet down. At its end it merges with a dwarven community working for Salkin. They, as well as many humans, wild children, and even a goliath couple, work long hours building on iceships of a size to dwarf any currently made. Though fitted with massive blue-iceriggers they also use enormous wheels, for Salkin's sources tell him that to the south there is a frozen sea that must needs be crossed, a sea that the leaders of the company know is the true purpose to the race. During the entire journey they will also be searching for connecting valleys that these mammoths of wood and ice can cross upon.
Miles away in the woods are the friendly Tlaluskan herds who have agreed to pull the ships until they reach the sea.
As well as crafting the ships, the workers here dig great tunnels to the surface so that by the time the explorers return there will be an egress large enough to bring forth the vessels.
-=-=-=-=-=-
Tyrus' Supply
Quote:
The other opening on the rise is simply a large carve with an arch of bricks going around its edge. A large wooden sign is set into the stone by the entrance reading:
Tyrus' Supply
It leads down a short tunnel into a natural looking cavern that has been widened and excavated to allow room for the hundreds of barrels and sacks that are piled nearly to the ceiling. A couple wagons are parked in here to be filled or unloaded. A section to the west is cleared where a large counter rests with spare wagon parts and barding hanging behind it. To the sides of the counter are arched openings that lead into dark extensions of the cavern. The entire area smells strongly of waxed burlap with an undertone of pickles.
A large burly man with a flaming head of red hair and a bushy auburn beard is helping load one of the wagons, lifting barrels that much weigh at least 300 lbs. with apparent ease.
-=-=-=-=-=-
Second Hand General
Quote:
Further up the rise, around a curve and out of sight of the Gaping Maw is yet another cavern that has been cut into the mountain-side. A wooden sign hangs from a chain on a hook set into the wall by the chamber with a simple etching of objects falling out of the back of a wagon and the words 'The Second Hand'.
Within you see chisel marks mar the ceiling and floor but is otherwise smooth. The walls are honey-combed with shallow holes filled with all sorts of odds and ends. An old wagon seat lying across several large barrels serves as a makeshift counter in the back of the room. Behind the counter hangs a patchwork curtain hiding an extension of the cave. The roof is of hard mountain stone and is slightly domed with a few flat patches and cracks. A rope is tied to hooks around the edge with a couple lanterns hanging from it.
A woman no older than her late twenties pushes past the quilt into the room.
Last edited by The Vorpal Tribble : 01-25-2011 at 08:31 PM.
The tallest mountains upon world tower here, forming almost a barrier across the equator. On its eastern plateaus lights flicker far brighter than a torch or lantern might, but almost with that of day. Individual plateaus number in the dozens, the largest a hundred miles across or more, linked by bridges of immense size and strength. Atop many of these peaks, lit only by flashes of lightening, are enormous pagodas, many stories tall and flickering with light and snow. Into the very heart of the mountain they spiral down. Down until it reaches the levels of the plateau, exits and entrances open all over the side of the carved rock, fortified with metal layed over the rock. In some manner these enormous sheets have been bent or carved with intricate scenes of great beauty and detail.
Around these entrances is a veritable city of stone and metal, as beautiful as it is sturdy. On the outskirts the stone and steel give way to more graceful homes of wood and cloth, paper and bamboo. Here there are terraced fields down the hills and mountains as far as the eye can see, as yaks clomp down along the well-maintained roads of bricks that are neither stone nor metal, but some kind of ceramic. Each brick is carved with a portion of the design that runs down the entire street in the semblance of some kind of river deity. In the overcast skies the road glows softly with a steady, faint blue-white light. Every where the street winds, and those that branch off of it, is a luminous glow that reminds one of veins through a body, or the roots of a great tree.
Here and there are tall structures shaped in various designs that compliment the surroundings, inside which are hundred of people tending plants in an indoor, climate-controlled fields of produce.
All in all it an oddly beautiful scene of the very sophisticated along-side the very primitive.
Licc is the largest city in the world, and by far the most advanced, along with being the most ancient still standing. It has stood since long before the comet and was almost completely unravaged by the effects of the fall.
It is one of the few human civilizations completely separate from the Empire, and refuses to even see ambassadors sent from Gelid Falls. In fact, Licc had only been rediscovered 500 years before, forgotten to time. Located in some of the mightiest, most treacherous mountain ranges, it is likely it might never have been discovered. Only a choice slip of the tongue by a Kenku trader speaking about a visit to the area revealed the fact that it existed at all. Self-contained and nigh unconquerable, even if Emporer Laffin felt the need to make the attempt it is likely that its isolation will remain forever unbroken.
Located on nearly the opposite side of the world from Gelid Falls, and and in the northern areas of the Ring, only the most persistent or desperate travelers and merchants visit. Even then, travel is usually provided by Blue Phoenices, which charge great prices for the monarch of Licc is as likely to turn a weapon upon them as not.
Inhabitants of Licc are actively discouraged from leaving, being told stories of the dangers and dishonorable ways of outsiders, and all are raised to retain extreme xenophobic tendencies. A minority however feel smothered by the realization that not even their earliest recorded ancestors have ever left Licc and have a need to know what the rest of the world is like.
Unlike all other human cities, Licc retains the knowledge from times before the come. The construction of grand structures of their ancestors still stand as a monument, and their technology has improved upon it to a startling degree. Massive bridges and walls are their trademark as well as strangely sophisticated devices of incredible subtlety and design. Masters of mechanisms and the principals of weight and balance, outside of Licc only dwarven experts can even guess at the subtleties.
They are lovers of tradition and aesthetic, so most of what they craft often looks primitive or purely artistic in design, but at its deepest level is very sophisticated. As well craftmanship is as important as the final product which is often a work of art. For example a carpenter of Gelid Falls would use pegs to keep together the beams of a home. A craftsman of Licc would never deign use nails but have the home fit together like a natural growth or jigsaw puzzle. A Liccan craftsman could also take a year to finish what an Imperial carpenter could do in a month, but what the Liccan built would last for centuries longer.
The Desire of the Edge (a first draft. Sparked by Unosarta and inspired by Where Is the Edge by Within Temptation)
Spoiler
So long has the Iron rules of Licc been adhered to that few know why they were begun in the first place. Instead a culture was built up around it, of rigid adherence and honor to those who stayed to them. Already a people with a love of tradition, tradition became the most important facet of their lives. To never deviate from it, to remain strong, resolute and fixed. Unlike most strict cultures, the ways of Licc are adhered to with an almost fanatical devotion. From the crib it dominates their lives.
How did their society develop such a fevered following?
It all began with a flower.
Humans had lived in the area for many years, in a relatively fertile vale miles a few score miles to the south. A wiseman and herbalist of the people went out on a gathering journey every few months for the herbs that he used in his practice. A rare storm had built, and he knew better than to return off the mountain he had climbed until it had passed. All day long the storm raged and he huddled in his lean-to against the falling sleet. Shortly after dusk the clouds thinned and he poked his head out. He was surrounded by the ice, and every tree was coated in it. Only one thing threw back colors to his lantern. A small grove of spiky blue flowers growing from a crack in the mount and protected by a shelf of overhanging rock. Never having seen such a plant before he plucked one and tasted it. While the stem and leaves bit his tongue unpleasantly, the flowers were incredibly sweet smelling and tasted like heaven to his tongue. Gathering a number, he then returned to his lean-to for a night's sleep before his return.
Upon awakening he looked for the flowers, though there was no sign, they had finished their bloom and were wilting with the morning light. Noting the place and details in a small book, he then began his way home.
Several days later he returned, and wishing to relax after such a taxing journey he decided to see what a tea of the blooms might taste of.
Records are sketchy of what all occurred several days later when he was awoken from his stupor, but it is said that the herbalist was possessed by a demon of incredible power. With the opening of his eyes his entire home exploded outward and his waker froze into a stature before burning to a cinder. The herbalist screamed in horror at what he had done, but as he screamed, laughter was also heard on his voice. In the end, through accident or purposefully, much of the city was destroyed. As the remains lie smoking about him, he seized his head and the strange twists of light about him dimmed. The eyes that opened were not the blazing clarity they had been, but the terrified eyes of a gentle man. Grasping the blade of a soldier he had killed, he struck across his belly, spilling his bowels out across the street.
The ruling emperor ordered all contents of the herbalist's home be brought to the palace. Reading through the herbalist's notes, the Emperor sent men to search for everything the herbalist noted on his journey and forced a slave to drink or eat each one. They watched as he slumped into slumber after the ingestion of the flowers. Whispers began to be heard through the halls, and the standing guards started as they saw something out of the corner of their eye. They turn back around to see the slave standing, his restraints crumbling into dust. At a command from the Emperor they cut off his head before the slave realized what was occurring.
The Emperor hid the notes and had all knowing of the experiment killed.
For centuries only rumors were heard of this blossom from which could be brewed an Ambrosia. Many went seeking it, but none were successful until a young emperor made a desperate personal quest that was to be told for centuries. The Empress, a woman of no great beauty or station, but an orphan raised amongst the monks, with a voice as lovely as a loon and a love for her people, lay dying from an illness none could cure. The Entwined Emperors as they were known, had brought a golden age to their people, and their love was poetry in the lands. He found the flower and fed it to her. She slept for a week, before awaking on her own. The scribes took down the gasped words, though hard were they to understand. She spoke of prophesies and power and secrets, as she seemed to battle with herself in her bed. Then a calm settled over her that the Emperor did not like.
"I must leave, my husband. I cannot battle this forever. I cannot hold onto myself. It... the inside... is too strong. I WILL BE MYSELF. I WILL FOLLOW THE PROPER PATH."
The husband begged her not to leave, and she begged him not to ask her to remain while such misery gripped her. He ignored her, for though he loved the empress, it was ultimately a selfish love. She realized what he was, and as a tear rolled down her face all life seemed to leave her. Beating his own head with his fists in emotion, the Emperor ordered the ambrosia be brought and he drank. Seizing his wife he shook her and her words seemed to moan through the heads all about in protest. A silent mental request to let her leave but the Emperor would not listen.
Like all those before him he was intoxicated by his power, the only exception his wife. She rose up and saw what he had become. They ascended above the mountains and fought for a month, the clouds changing colors as gold rained from the sky. Houses grew wings, the dead regrew their flesh, and music issued from the rivers. Then there was silence.
Neither able to win, the Empress had finally embraced her husband, but instead of becoming as he, she had tempered him, and let him see through her eyes. He in turn however had hardened her.
As they came down from the heights of the ambrosia they recalled all they had learned, and grew frightful of what they now knew. Their grandchildren, many generations along the line would die as the dying ember gave one last spark before going cold. Together they thought up a plan to save their people and the world. It would not be pleasant, and their would be great cruelty involved, but in the end they were forced to harden their hearts. Sometimes one must be cruel to be kind. And thus they became the first Emperors in the Iron Body of Licc. They passed on their knowledge by tradition and the ways of honor, only the Emperors knowing the truth behind the methods. Mankind was too weak, too undisciplined. Nowhere close to the will required to master the powers of the ambrosia without destroying themselves. Even with her great love and training within the monastery the Empress had only won out for a few moments. They must all be strengthened.
The first of the Iron Houses were built nearby the mount that housed the flowers. Then began the great cleansing. It started off small at first, but as the generations went by it became a rigid requirement. The weak, the deformed, the mentally unstable. All that showed the slightest deviance from perfection was either killed or banished from the lofty plateaus and mountain ranges. Instead they were forced to seek life from the blasted badlands where Hearth spat its bile from below.
With only the strongest, smartest, and ultimately 'balanced' of the people, progress increased as freedom and variance waned within Licc. As reason replaced superstition, and experimentation began, the current Emporer designated the people strong enough to begin experimentation with the flower. The tiniest of the substance was extracted and administered as powerful mentals joined their minds. After many years it was discovered that deep within all man are barriers and blocks. Valves that cut down upon the inner potential lest it be released. Even the most advanced psionicists lived with these blocks, but strengthened and learned from a lifetime to control larger and larger flows. Beyond these blocks however was the true depths of the mind, from which none could return, and no mind, no matter how disciplined would willingly throw itself down. The ambrosia, as it once had been known, was but a weakened and watered down application that led man to the edge of this hole and allowed them to peer within. Developed was a concentrated of the flower extract. The results were frightening, even to these Liccans who had by now thought nothing was beyond their reach, no mountain too high.
The mind of those who took the drug not only lost all fear of the deeps, but seemed to seek it eagerly, hurling themselves down it with a sort of passion. They named the flower and the drug it derived from in their typically poetic fashion; Desire of the Edge.
Power erupted over this edge, but with no mind to tap it, it was like a well of water and no bucket to draw it up. Volunteers seeking to regain their honor from crimes that would have them sent to the Bilelands were given mental training. Reflex and mnemonic conditioning that they hoped would allow them access to this power. It took years of study and experimentation before the discipline was perfected. Machines were devised and then designed to make use of the power that fairly bubbled up, though their true minds lost forever. A sort of cold fusion could be triggered and a new age began within Licc.
The current Empress, Dowager Deki now reigns and watches eagerly as advancements continue. What her people don't know is this is but one more step. Someday they will know how to reach down into the well of their own accord and bring it back. They will have discipline and a sense of honor to steady them. To not be driven mad by the power they posses. Then, when they are ready, mature in mind and body, and dedicated to the tradition and civilization that raised them, they will join together. They will reach out to the Dying Ember, and breathe life into it. They will bring youth to the sun.
Banner/Colors:
In their banners, art and symbols, Licc has displayed a black or dark red background with a jagged, many-pointed star-like pattern of white or yellow with streaking lines ending in irregular circles towards the bottom.
Population:
580,000; 100% Human (liccan).
Primary Language:
Taegel (Licc Common)
Year of Establishment:
11,018 WT
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| GOVERNMENT |
--------------
Government: Licc has been ruled by dynasties for as long as Licc history as been written, though family lines have changed repeatedly. The current family has been in power for eight generations, though only the daughter survived to take the mantle of Emperor; an uncommon situation, but not one without precedent.
The Iron Body of Licc
Licc is divided into five central sections that focuses on specific aspects of their society. They are the Hand, Heart, Mind, and Soul, ruled over by the Head, the Emperor or Empress. They are each small cities of their own, which overlap at the edge with the others. Those in the higher ranking offices test the Desire of the Edge drug, improving upon and testing it.
From these main houses they branch into dozens of others that report to themselves, but ultimately to the Masters of the Houses, and they to the Head.
It is a strict hierarchy that is carefully maintained.
Hand
The Hand of Licc deals with the more physical aspects of its community. The military, the builders/mechanics, the servants and the slaves are dictated by the Masters of the Hand.
Hand/Heart - Prosthetics, surgery
Hand/Mind - Kineticists, strategy, military college, applied philosophy
Hand/Soul -
Heart
The Heart of Licc are the doctors, sanitary workers, caretakers of children and elderly, morticians and overseers of the general health and growth of the city.
Heart/Hand - Prosthetics, surgery
Heart/Mind - Psychometabolism, natural sciences, biological research
Heart/Soul
Mind
The Mind of Licc run the universities and study the science of teaching. They are the inventors, astronomers, philosophers, librarians and researchers into clairsentient abilities. They study psionics and its potential.
Mind/Hand - Kineticists, strategy, military college, applied philosophy
Mind/Heart - Psychometabolism, natural sciences, biological research
Soul
The Soul of Licc is much less defined than the other parts of the Iron Body, and many find them to be whimsical at best, but they play the most important part of all. They are the psychiatrists and spiritual advisers of Licc, as well as the artisans and musicians. They deal with that which cannot be measured, labeled or quantified.
All children visit the monks for emotional training and psychological evaluation. There they learn ways to control their emotions, to be rid of phobias, and meditations to stabilize themselves in general. As such, nearly all Liccans are, to a degree, far more mentally stable than the other people of Hearth. Those that show relapses visit the monks after childhood from time to time, but if even that cannot quell their mental difficulties they are banished from Licc to the Bilelands.
They are also the ambassadors, peacekeepers and diplomats of Licc. All told they are the oil that keeps the cogs of the society turning smoothly.
Government popularity: The Emperors and Empresses of Licc are considered nearly unto gods, and their power is absolute. They are not so much popular as raised to have no thoughts of ever questioning them.
Army and Enemies: Samurai are the common military man within Licc, who have dedicated themselves to protecting against anything that threatens Licc as a whole.
Paladins of Tyranny guard the royal families, the Masters of the houses, and those that can afford to pay them, protecting them from other families or heads who may wish to remove them due to rivalries, house infighting, and similar. These paladins have no compunction against doing anything that protects their ward. Many say they are soulless enforcers of the laws.
Ninjas are the assassins and spies of Licc. They are trained to battle the Paladins of Tyranny that guard those they would seek to kill. They are a gray area amongst the warriors of Licc, and the head Ninja is usually the Emperor or Empress themselves. They will not take a contract that the head does not approve. And then, she only approves if the death would not impact the smooth working of the city. There are rogue ninjas that answer to no one, but they must always be on the lookout of all the warriors and parts of the body.
A sect of monks are the peacekeepers of Licc, and enforce the laws. There task is to apprehend and incapacitate instead of kill, and thus rarely take up arms. In the event that a number of monks cannot deal with the danger the samurai are called in for a much rougher keeping of justice and peace.
Defenses: The heights of most of Licc alone is enough to deter nigh any enemies, though great walls and traps at the bases of these heights deter most. Licc also possesses energy weapons that can decimate anything of flesh and bone, wood and simple steel. Batteries of energy filled by those taken under the influence of Desire of the Edge.
Fighting Style: Weapons long forgotten by other peoples of Hearth are often in use by the people of Licc, such as nunchuku, shuriken and bolas. Ninja in particular are fond of this more primitive weaponry, along with poisons.
Samurai tend to bastard swords, short swords and large firearms, including Edge-rifles.
Paladins of Tyranny tend towards the larger blades and small firearms, including edge-pistols.
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| SOCIETY |
-----------
Slavery: Slavery exists in Licc, though in no great numbers. They are generally the descendants of families who gravely dishonored themselves. Slaves of dishonored families will one day be allowed freedom once their debt has been paid.
Constabulary: Laws are generally upheld by a LN sect of peacekeeping Monks who if at all possible take lawbreakers alive and see they are brought forth before the courts.
Method of Execution:
Executions are often as simple as shoving the condemned off steep cliffs, and quite a few spots are reserved for this very purpose. If even by freak chance they survive, the barbarians below are likely to find the injured criminal and either kill him outright or take them as slaves or food.
In a number of cases, if they show remorse or wish to remove their family from taking the dishonor of their deeds, it may be allowed that they kill themselves with any weapon they request. This is called the Ritual of the Thorn.
Organized Crime: Crime is not common, but there are always those who laugh at honor and spit in its face. Rogue assassins are the most common of these, generally ninjas who have been dismissed from their orders or lords and refuse to take other occupations. Organized crime is almost impossible within the rigid law system of Licc.
Various Laws:
<In Progress>
Commoners are not allowed to wield Edge-weapons unless they may prove themselves of particular loyalty to Licc and its monarch or have a long line of honored ancestors.
Common skills of inhabitants:
Everything from fusion physics, arc welding and hydroponics to poetry midwifing and carving is to be found in Licc. They possess a greater range of learning than any race upon Hearth. Many tend to a simpler life, but all receive and education that rivals other peoples.
Clothing: Common citizen's attire varies widely, though those living within the mountain itself, and the city usually wear beautiful elaborate robes and dresses with scenes of incredible beauty stitched into it. In the outskirts where more time is spent outdoors, they often wear living coats of leather, fur, or even feathers grown as clothing in the needed size. There is not the slightest mind to these coats, possessing no nervous system. They live off special electrical current provided by miniscule cells within the coat that usually outlast the wearer themselves. As these coats are self-healing, they are cheap and plentiful, rarely requiring replacing or repair.
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The Plateau
The Plateau is a vast, flat area upon the tallest mountain within the boundaries of Licc. Upon it lives Tah Gaden, a monk who has inhabited it since time immeasurable, and is the founder of the ancient organization of Cloud Anchorites. Within his home he trains and teaches the dedicated capable of attaining its heights. It is said he can sense everything that occurs upon his mountain's surface and knows every crag and cleft in its surface.
Granted immortality by his mountain, he never leaves and has been known to say that if once a student can throw him off that person will become the new master of the mount. Few indeed have the skill to make the attempt and none the heart to do so.
Red Dew Forest
- Longhouse
Spoiler
A heavy rain falls, bringing forth a spotty mist that wafts past the trunks of trees that'd dwarf the mightiest of dragons. Ferns, lichens and clumps of mushrooms that comes to one's knees cover the ground so thickly that actual earth is unseen. Moss-draped bluffs rise all about with cold streams and creeks falling from them by the dozens into tiny pools that feed their continuing flow through the woods. It has an almost unearthly beauty to it, though a wild beauty. Despite the trickling of running water, an eerie silence dominates these woods, beneath a red dew that hangs from the needles above...
The Red Dew forest is an extensive cold to temperate rainforest that lines the Ochine on both sides, petering out to the north and south only when it becomes too cold to support the woods. The Red Dew is amongst the warmest locales to be found on Hearth, as the ocean regulates the already warmer temperatures of the Ring. The tallest trees in all the world grow here, towering hundreds of feet and blocking what little light the constant clouds allow through. For though it is not uncommon in other areas of Hearth to have even several days where patches of the sky may be seen, even one day within the Red Dew without torrential downpour is a marvel. Therefore a great many places for miles on end are in eternal twilight, others blacker than night. What lives within these areas even the bravest mortals know not. Even with lamps all is hidden, for a mist from the constant humidity blocks all attempts to view the surroundings. All sound is dampened by waterlogged mosses and fungus so that the senses of sight and hearing are nigh worthless.
History
The fall of the comet brought many changes to the world, changes that the fey sensed immediately. Some watched cautiously, others angrily, as humans began to arrive within their woods. Humans had always been present, but in small tribes that were easily controlled. Over the next several hundred years however thousands upon thousands poured in. Many died to forest denizens, while others befriended sprites of the wood and lived in peace. Most however were concerned only with their own survival and if a dryad's tree looked like a good source of logs or firewood so be it. Retaliation occurred on both sides, as did senseless butchery. The woods soon came to be thought of as cursed and thousands left for a safer, if colder land. Those who remained lived in fear for their lives, or waged horrible wars against the more aggressive fey. Redcaps in particular rejoiced in the slaughtering of whole towns.
Though many fey understood the human plight and wished them no ill, even they were pursued, the humans unable or unwilling to tell friend or foe amongst the forest's denizens.
Disgusted by the warring and killing on both sides, a druid of the woods and his nymph wife sent out a plea for aid amongst the Lords of Faerie. And so the Skrytin'kanina first arrived upon Hearth. Fey instinctively listened to their words, and though humans feared these new beings, their leaders who met with them came away with comforting words. Fey would leave the humans be, if the humans left them be and moved to areas where few of the nature's spirits dwelled. Areas of little or no magic where fey had no interest. These lands in places were vast and could easily hold every human alive in the forest at once and still only fill a tiny portion of its expanses. Many humans refused to leave their homes, though the great majority were willing if only they could live without constant anxiety. Most who refused died, though to this day a number of villages still remain.
To warn the mortals where the boundaries were, a minor enchantment was put upon the trees. When one saw the red dew beading upon the firs, or dripping down the mighty sequoia, they were entering lands where no law held sway. This was the wild land, where the beasts beneath the branches and feral fey had the last say. The crimson drops tell all simply: you trod at your own risk. A large number of dwarves and humans live in these woods despite the fact, and enough live to encourage others, but many a village is found inexplicably deserted, or never found, the land seeming to have reclaimed itself.
Any human who logs beyond these borders risks the wrath of many and those having harmed a fey creature or its home usually disappear within days of their transgressions. Likewise, fey who cause trouble within the human lands must always be on the run from the Skrytinn who do not appreciate their promises being broken.
The human equivalent of the Skrytinn are the Knights of the Golden Orchard who try to keep the peace between fey and man. Many take sylvan wives and husbands, following the paths of the druid/nymph couple who founded their order. As such, most of these Knights are lawful-aligned Wild Children.
---
Longhouse
Longhouse is the only other human nation outside of the Empire, the capital of all the original settlements speckled through the Red Dew Forest. It is located nearby the coast of the Ochine, and while twenty miles within the forest, extensions of it take the form of coastal villages that run up and down the forest coast
Banner/Colors: The banner of Longhouse is a redwood tree with a burgundy river flowing behind it.
The Tangle is a land of thorns and thickets, of predators and perfume. A floral kingdom, where madness is in the air you breath, and death in the scrape of a knee. It is the home of sentient fungi and carnivorous plants. Here you are being watched with the eyes of green. This is literal as almost every plant has eyes in some manner, and most possessed of limited mobility.
Since time immemorial there has been this land, where few animals survive, and insects wage war. It is a land of mystery only vine and toadstool know, which even the fey shun with dread.
Here everything is a parasite. Spores and pollen, shoot and root that infect and violate and prey upon the unprepared visitor. The few non-plants that live here are symbiotic with a chosen plant, immune to its affects and protected from others. Here are mushrooms the size of mountains, organic masses, that ooze unimaginable growths, all lit by the riotous colors of blazing foxfires.
With each year the tangle grows a little larger while most of the planet slowly dies. Few live close-by the tangle, and fewer yet think to measure, but those rare individuals fear it as great as the approach of the chill, for there is something uncanny within that cares nothing of man and his ilk. The Queen of A Thousand Roots.
Vale of Harmony
Spoiler
Home of the Okelei. Work in process.
Last edited by The Vorpal Tribble : 01-26-2011 at 02:43 PM.
Stretching from the southern icefields and on to the north pole the Ochine is a vast ocean that nearly splits the world of Hearth in two. It is quite narrow compared with its length, though still averages out at four thousand miles in width in most places. The Ochine is the only actual ocean upon Hearth. Thousands of rivers empty out into this ocean, whose shores are as irregular and jutted as a battered blade. Peninsulas and bays are so numerous that an immortal would be hard pressed to map them all. Vast forests of giant kelp thrive in the cold waters and can extend for thousands of miles.
Though thunderstorms and windstorms are quite common, if not the norm, upon the Ochine, hurricanes are extremely uncommon, for very rarely can the water warm itself to sufficient temperatures to begin formation. Hurricanes upon the Ochine are generally considered a sign of impending misfortune for the world as a whole.
Because of the nearly constant cloud cover, it is extremely difficult to navigate without constellations. Thus sailors of the Ochine use the sun in the daytime, and navigate by the Flash Herring, vast schools of wondrous fish that float upon the magnetics of the world. Depending upon the longitude and latitude their colors change in a way which can be read by a seasoned salt.
The dominating lords of this ocean are the whales, porpoises and belugas, that thrive in the vast chilly waters in extended pods that number in the thousands. Darfellans and Maenads populate many of the island chains that spot the Ochine.
Fevered Mount
Spoiler
There is an area of the great Ochine known as the Greenbreeze. A hundred miles if not two from one end to the other, its true dimensions have never been fully mapped, but it is vast. It is over waters so choked with aquatic plants that no ship has been able to go more than a few miles before becoming hopelessly entangled. It is also home to innumerable aquatic creatures, most famously massive predatory horrors that are said to swallow whole many a mired vessel. Along with the impassibility, the region is constantly beset by constant thunderstorms that makes even approaching the green hazardous. Only here are hurricanes known to brew up regularly.
In the center of this profusion of sea life is a large island dominated by a single large volcano which is impossible to see by normal methods as continuous fog and steam keep it from being seen. Because of this it was named the 'Fevered Mount'.
The Fevered Mount is a once extinct volcano that was awoken to partial life. It has been filled with rainwater to form an expansive lake within. The heat from below has brought the water's temperature up to temperatures rarely found anywhere on Hearth. Islands covered in semi-tropical plant-life spot the surface of this large lake. Two large, five small, and at least sixteen tiny isles all told. And all are filled with animal life no longer found anywhere else in the world. The steam from the waters completely block the lake and islands from view, and upon the islands fog and steam are ever present.
The Fevered Mount is one of the Druid most strongly guarded secrets. For when they discovered despite their efforts many species would die, the heat from far below the volcano was brought closer to heat its waters. Animals seen nowhere else on Hearth reside here, kept alive by the warmth and the great forests of otherwise rare or completely extinct flora.
The warm waters wreak havoc with the much colder temperatures without, causing the great storms that plague the area. The Greenbreeze without, though already a hazard, was further encouraged to grow by the druids. Not content with even that, nature spirits whom are close allies with the druids prowl the ground and air about the volcano. Giant serpent spirits forever guard the base against the extremely unlikely trespassers and roc spirits patrol the billowy steam of the heights.
For despite the great treasure within, a deeper secret remains within, the only pureblooded wise apes of Hearth. There are numbers are small, but within the forests of the Fevered Mount they are at least content with their minor status.
This island is the center of the druidic circle that encompasses all of Hearth. It is here that the Great Druid resides, along with many other druids who seek his wisdom or report on the happenings of the globe. Druids make periodic pilgrimages here, some merely to immerse themselves in the prevalent life of the region. No druid ever speaks of it, nor allows others to venture near it. Even druids of good alignment are wont to take drastic measures to protect it. For if word were to get out, those of Iborighu would know best where to target their plans.
In an effort to keep the secret the druids of hearth are taught a very simple spell, one that needs no preparation and that may be cast at any time. One must only think back on the memory of the isle and think the ancient druidic word for 'protection' and the memory of the locale will be purged from your brain. This way, even under torture the secret will not be given away.
Banner/Colors
Keepers of the Fevered Mount try with much difficulty to keep from being discovered, but all keep somewhere about their person a tiny chest of ashes within which a single ember glows dimly.
Racial Makeup
Keepers of the Fevered Mount are intensely varied in race as most species upon Hearth have an interest in keeping all from freezing. Though few know it, Domovoi are the most numerous of all Keepers, seeding themselves within households all over the planet. Half-giants make up much of the remainder, living always in the warmest, most geothermally active locales as they guard it from the Frostfolk and other races who bear ill will against the enemies of Iborighu. Humans and wild children are also common enough. The wise apes however are the rarest, for with the dying out of most of their beloved forests very few remain.
( 70% domovoi, 15% half-giant, 6% human, 1% dwarf, 1% half-orc, 7% 'other')
Most of these members are druids, though rangers, wu jen, and clerics of deities of light and warmth, particularly Pelor and Estanna, are also quite common.
(65% druid, 20% cleric, 5% ranger, 5% wu jen, 5% 'other')
Authority Figures
A wise ape prince called Téigh, and the High Druid of the druidic circle, is the 'leader' of the Keepers of the Fevered Mount, being one of the few still living members of those who brought forth the heat from below two thousands years ago. The Fevered Mount was his own task however and it was he who brought it back to partial life and surrounded it with the mass of green.
It is this place that sustains him and allows his extended life. Keepers continuously come and go, reporting on the condition of the world and on the advances of the Winterhaunt. Though Téigh's wisdom is great he does little more than give advice for such an effort as theirs cannot be lead by a single man.
Economy
Despite its far reaching numbers the Keepers of the Fevered Mount possess no great wealth, though their influence is almost coin unto itself. With domovoi in households of the richest they learn much and many are privately very wealthy unto themselves from what they hear and pass on to one another and the masters of the house.
Membership Requirements
Keepers of the Fevered Mount are generally taught by others of the organization. If they prove to be of a trustworthy nature and display a true love for the land and those that live upon it they are given a special ember lit by their master's own. This ember must be taken to the Fevered Mount and kept alive all this time, as it is a symbol of the world and its people. With their very life it must remain lit, across forest and mount, river and ocean. The ember is then placed within a mighty pit of fire within a sacred locale set in a cave of the volcano's side. The special light of this ember is a sign to the spirits guarding the island to leave the newcomer be.
If the fire of the ember is the same as when it begun then it momentarily flares up and adds to the bulk of the inferno within. If the ember is a fake however it explodes violently, searing the untrustworthy fake.
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Keepers of the Fevered Mount Lore
Characters with ranks in Knowledge (history), Knowledge (nature), and Knowledge (geography) can learn more about keepers of the fevered mount. When a character makes a successful skill check, the following lore is revealed, including the information from lower DCs.
Knowledge (Geography)
DC 15 - Far out upon the Ochine Ocean it is said there is a place of constant storms where only the most skilled or foolhardy mariner will venture. This result reveals which body of water the Fevered Mount can be found. DC 20 - Amongst these great storms is a nearly impassable morass of aquatic growth; great forests of kelp and sprawling sea bladders. It is said that the grow extends for at least a hundred miles in all directions. DC 25 - A map was once found, showing the position of this green in the far southwestern reaches, 500 miles north of a Darfellan colony. This gives a rough direction to begin a search. DC 30 - You have heard tell that a log of a journal upon a shipwreck that gives exact longitude and latitude of this growth and believe you know where these coordinates can be found. DC 35 - A mountain surrounded by mists is rumored to be found within the center of the green.
---
Knowledge (History)
DC 5 - Some 2000 years ago a great comet struck the planet and brought the cold to the world. DC 15 - By the combined effort of a sect of powerful druids and the worshippers of Pelor somehow this cold was lessened though the world now rumbles from below more than it once was. DC 20 - Most of the wise apes disapeared or died out as their homes were overcome by frost. DC 25 - Until the great cold no werefolk or shifters inhabited the planet. DC 30 - Werefolk, shifters, pelts, and many other species came into existence within several decades of the cold.
---
Knowledge (Nature)
DC 10 - The world is unnaturally cold with many of its species ill suited for the bitter temperatures. DC 20 - Much of the geological activity about the world does not seem to have formed naturally, being strangely stable and grouped in convenient locales. DC 25 - Druidic peoples and others with ties to the lands seem overly protective of these locales. It is said they are concerned with keeping the world from growing colder. DC 30 - Supposedly these people can be found about the world with many dedicated to adapting existing peoples and locations to better deal with the spreading chill. DC 35 - This group is called the Keepers of the Fevered Mount. DC 40 - Keepers of the Fevered Mount was founded by an eladrin that is said to still be alive today called Téigh.
Swiftly Rising
Spoiler
Constantly beaten by the breakers of the powerful Ochine Ocean are the cliffs of the Raelign mountains. Rugged and with many jutting stones of sharp edges, it is a harsh place. However, within its heights the land suddenly gives way into a massive cauldron and drops for hundreds of feet to the dark, sweltering heat below. The upper reaches and nearby mountainsides however are home to a thriving community.
Great masses of tough, woven seaplants stick to the sheer sides of the cauldron, held together and waterproofed with the sticky oils distilled from local marine life. Porches of bone and rope hang around the masses, some of which are so large they nearly ring the cauldron.
Swiftly Rising is also, oddly enough, known for its weather prediction. For there are many small vents worn through the rock on the cliffs far below the town borders, leading to the blazing depths. When storms or seaquakes are forming the waves increase in power and reach higher up the cliffs, to the level of the vents. When the water rushes down it meets with the heat below and is instantly converted into steam. This steam fills the entire village and rises into the air for those from miles around to see. In this fashion passing ships can tell if they need worry about the conditions of their future sailing. It is said that this billowing fog is what gained the interest of the Swiftly Rising raptorans to begin with.
Population: 3,800; 100% Raptoran
Primary Language: Tuilvilanuue
Year of Establishment: 2,200 YoF
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| GOVERNMENT |
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Government: Raptorans are only very loosely governed by a Chief, traditionally known as Wind's Favored, who is usually a skilled and wizened warrior, or the direct relative of one.
Government popularity: The chief of the Raptorans is generally well respected, especially as he may fly, thus proving his favor of the winds.
Army:
Tuuli'gaata Merlitorn, or Those Who Swiftly Rise, are the guardians of the clans of the Raelign mountains. The city itself was named after its warriors, all of who live within the cauldron. For there is a continuous updraft from the rising warm air below, that allows them to rise quickly with minimal effort and shoot upwards into sudden view of potential aggressors.
Defenses: The steep cliffs required to even get to the outlying homes of Raelign are enough to deter most, though if sufficiently threatened all may flee into Swiftly Rising where only those with flying abilities can hope to reach.
Primary Enemy:
The raptorans of swiftly rising have few enemies, though the occasional raid by pirates or snow goblins happen from time to time. Rocs are the most dangerous threat, watching from the nearby mountain peaks to swoop down on emerging raptorans.
Fighting Style: With their natural advantages Those Who Swiftly Rise tend to use ranged weapons, bone footbows in particular.
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| SOCIETY |
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Constabulary:
Raptorans tend to settle their differences without outside aid, though disputes and grudges that threaten to escalate to the point it would affect others becomes a matter for the Chief to come into.
Method of execution:
Those found worthy of death are dealt with rather simply. Their wings are publicaly clipped and then they are tossed out into the abyss of the cauldron to plummet.
Common skills of inhabitants:
Though fishers and hunters foremost, those of swiftly rising are respected for their weavings and coral carvings. Amongst those in the nearby slopes mining is not uncommon, though the caves dug are wide and spacious and the miners 'lesser' raptorans whom have been sent from the cauldron to live in the cold sea winds.
Last edited by The Vorpal Tribble : 01-23-2011 at 11:24 AM.
The Everdusk region is consists of the upper quarter of Hearth, where a perpetual twilight always reigns, and the skies are continuously lit with a never-ending sunset. It is a realm where few live for the terrible temperatures here, but is far more extensively explored and colonized than the south.
Azure Floe
Spoiler
The Azure Floe is the capital of the northern Glacier Dwarves, located somewhat below the northern polar circle. It is what was once a truly ancient sea that froze over in a time out of memory. With the fall of the comet, a shockwave rippled through Hearth and split open the land beneath the sea and the ice fell. Mountains toppled over it and buried the frozen ocean. Glaciers later formed however and slowly scraped away the earth, leaving a hint of what lay beneath, a true motherlode of blue ice that had been kept in freezing temperatures and crushing pressure.
For the last thousand years or so it has been mined, often by the directing of distant rivers by the cutting out of mountainsides. The friction of the running water eventually wears down the thickest ice in places so that mining may begin. A large city of stone and blue ice now borders this sea and somewhat below it. From this city, now named the Azure Floe, is bought most of the blue ice of the Ring (though for steep prices). Banner/Colors: The banner of the Azure Floe is a large circle of deep blue color with wires of blue ice woven into dwarven runes of wealth, water, cold and ice around its edge.
Population: 9,500+
Primary Language: Dwarven
Year of Establishment: 2006 YOF
Important Events:
In 2107 YOF the glaciar dwarves waged a five year war against the Frost Folk.
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| GOVERNMENT |
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Government: The Azure Floe is ruled over by guilds who each control a portion of the sea and have the mining rights of that portion. Only a portion of the sea has been fully explored for it is many miles from end to end. These guilds operate under shared rules that are strictly adhered to and honored.
Government popularity: If one doesn't care for his guild he is always allowed to go mine on his own. Some may even join another guild, but must not give any plans or inside knowledge of his former guild or be permanently sent from the city. This rule is strictly observed, for the dwarf could then leave again and give away more information. If a guild is found to have been gaining information of another it is ostracized and becomes property of the wounded party. Those of importance within the offending guild become little more than beggars or are forced to seek out their own fortunes, but are never again allowed to join a guild.
Army: The guardians of the Azure Floe are a guild unto themselves, defending the entire city from bandits and others who would like to have the wealth for themselves.
Defenses: Giant barb-top fences of pure blue ice twenty feet high form around the city, being melted down and reused when the city expands. This fence does not go out onto the sea, seemingly leaving the city in one entire direction undefended. But this is misleading for dwarven warriors on skates of blue ice blades have the advantage of nearly any enemy who'd attempt to come in over the frozen waters.
Primary Enemy: Because of their defenses and warriors attacks on the Azure Floe are not often, though Malasyers, Ice Toads, and White Puddings, natives of the frozen sea, prey upon the unwary and solitary dwarves. There are also skirmishes and sometimes outright battles with Frost Folk, who after the dwarves had been within the Azure Floe a hundred years discovered that the dwarves were violating the sea that they claim is one of their oldest holy areas. The dwarves, knowing nothing of it refused to leave their fantastic discover and a horrible war waged for many years. They continue to probe the cities defenses for weaknesses and plague the dwarves by encouraging yetis, trolls and other mountain creatures that are easily angered to attack.
Fighting Style:
The guardians of the Azure Floe are experts with ice skates and with the skill upon the ice came to take the name of Biting Wind, after the similarity was made with the occasional living gusts that flash across the sea. Their strategy consists of many variations on hurling glots and razor skipdisks across the ice, and while their enemy is dodging or having their legs broken from under them, bringing forth their axes and picks of beautifully crafted blue ice. They then skate forward with deadly poise.
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| SOCIETY |
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Slavery: Slavery is strictly outlawed.
Constabulary: The Biting Wind often doubles as a police force, though every guild has its own system of protection.
Method of Execution: Those found guilty of crimes worthy of death are not outright killed, but are walking dead never the less for they are sent into the most dangerous mines to test the strength and safety of each shaft. They are commonly used as the ice melters themselves, and few live more than a year after sentencing, and none more than two.
Organized Crime: Organized crime is quickly snuffed out by the firm rules of the guild organization, though a small but successful smuggling ring exists. Almost exclusively consisting of changelings, they make contact with the few bribe-able dwarves and cart out the illegal blue ice to the highest bidders.
Common skills of inhabitants: Ice mining is the lifeblood of Azure Floe, and their knowledge of their craft is almost unparalleled. Smithing of equipment and blue ice weapons are also a thriving business, and their abilities of enchanting these weapons are famous. A number of artisan guilds also exist, producing ice carving and sculptures of great beauty.
Clothing: Extremely thick clothing of spongy padding is common amongst the inhabitants, providing protection against falling ice and instead of keeping heat in, it keep the cold out, for even body heat is enough to destabilize many a shaft.
The guild of the Biting Wind tends to dress in exquisite plate armor of blue ice.
Poqt
Spoiler
Poqt is the home to a small, extended village of people who count amongst the most psionically gifted humans on Hearth. Their oldest histories give hint that they fled their original home because of their beliefs. Their god has no spoken name, aside from being referred to as the Creator. They believed that though humans may never truly understand the way of god, it was not necessary that they should, that it was enough just to do his will, not to find out how they had aided until they reached the afterlife.
The people of Poqt spend simple lives of fishing, whaling and farming, with some small amount of mining, always listening for their god's guidance. An hour at their waking and before retiring are spent clearing their minds of their toils and troubles and dedicating their thoughts to their Lord. In the process they discovered the ways of their inner selves and learned to control and shape it. This was passed down from parent to child and refined and expanded upon. They believed that their god guided them to understand the abilities that all mankind were born with, but few possessed the patience or faith to recognize it. The greatest psis were encouraged to join the clergy of the church, for they were obviously the ones he had blessed the most.
This philosophy of control, self-sacrifice, and humbleness has allowed them peace for thousands of years.
When the comet fell it was felt as keenly as if a sword had been driven through their hearts. A handful of volunteers set out on their ships to discover the extent of the disaster. Only one returned years later, his mind clouded from what he had been through. Since that time the most psionically powerful of the villagers have been sought out and trained to be Sent to other lands where they would dedicate their lives to aiding others, likely never to return.
Location: Northeast section of the Ochine Ocean, within the borders of the Northern Dusklands
Population: 780+; 100% human
Primary Language: Common
Year of Establishment: 2851 WT
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| GOVERNMENT |
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Government:
The people of Poqt have no true government, the closest being a type of theocracy, a clergy of strong psionicists who have dedicated their lives to aiding the village and teach its people the wisdom they discover through their constant inner searchings. Despite this, they have little true power, though if so wished they could forcibly attempt to control the populace. Being an affront to everything the people of Poqt believe in, those who seek power are rarely allowed to join the clergy, and even then their trances are influenced by his brethren.
Army:
Poqt has no army.
Primary Enemy:
The people of Poqt have no specific enemies for the land they inhabit is no great prize, nor do they possess anything truly worth fighting for.
Defenses:
The location of Poqt, though not hidden, is difficult to locate, and local creatures respect if not outright avoid the town, well aware of the abilities of its inhabitants.
Fighting Style:
Being reknowned whalers, the people of Poqt know well how to use harpoon, spear and net, along with their own mental powers.
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| SOCIETY |
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Slavery:
None.
Constabulary:
None, those that break the laws are given a chance to make amends, but if they continue in their ways are given a boat and food and banished.
Common skills of inhabitants: Whaling and fishing is the main livelihood of the Poqt people. Very few vegetables are growable in the harsh climate, though hardy ones such as potatoes and beets supplemented their diet of meat, blubber, and vitamin rich organs. To help withstand the frigid arbtic temperatures it was a survival trait to put on a large amount of body mass by immense, high-fat and high-calorie meals. This diet resulted in a gradual weight and height gain by the inhabitants, the smallest rarely less than 6 feet and 250 lbs.*
* Traveling nomads of native tribes have spread legends that the people of Poqt are of giant blood, but this claim is wholly false.
Clothing:
The people of Poqt generally wear thick, oiled robes or toga-like garments of leather and furs.
Last edited by The Vorpal Tribble : 01-23-2011 at 11:22 AM.
The Forgotten South is the southern frostfell of the world. Here was what took the brunt of the disaster from Iborighu's comet. It is a land of cold far more piercing than anywhere else on the world, populated by the fiercest beasts, orc and shifter clans, and horrible storms that feed on wanderers. Massive quakes the shook the entire world split deep clefts, and cracks in reality itself opened and influenced the land around it. And to top that, far, far into the south it is said the Winterhaunt themselves live where no man, no matter his fortitude, can survive.
It is named the Forgotten South, for all that remains of the knowledge of this hostile land are tales and rumors, stories passed down over the millenia. And of the few with curiosity powerful enough to drive them to answers, fewer yet return.
Aeviewood
Spoiler
A massive mound of white rises up in the distance, with the occasional green between drifts. An icy wind blows through, but it is laden with the scent of flowers and green life. As you approach you see a great tangle of icy straws weaving and unweaving through one another. They bend and shake in the wind, but miraculously do not break. As you approach you see it is not icy straws, but a thicket of thorny blackberries. Though covered with a layer of icy they are bright green, and sprout flowers and thick bunches of fruit wider than your hand. It is alike to a beautiful scene put under glass. Another wind gusts forth and snow falls from the mounds overhead, which are in reality huge trees blanketed with snow. Though it is almost painful a blade is required to cut through the vegetation which grows rampantly and in great profusion. Once within the wood proper you can make out what was hidden by the snow above. Spruces, maples, chestnuts, dogwoods, cottonwoods, and hundreds of other trees grow so thickly with massive trunks that one practically has to squeeze past them. And all are simultaneously producing fruit, blossoms and pollen. Fruit that have fallen from above have not rotted, but are encased in ice, preserved better than if they have been jarred.
The buzzing, the howls, roars, booms and growls that echo through this frosted forest are of great volume and echo through the valley. As you proceed the greenery gets thicker and thicker till its nothing short of a solid mass. The trees that rise here have tops that cannot even be seen.
A bird on the fly above would hardly be able to see the frozen lake that these great woods surround, for their massive branches grow far out overtop. Here and there holes or cracks appear in the ice, and the water that seep through froths and bubbles. The lake is filled with, for all intended purposes, healing potions. Within it nearly any wound will heal in moments. Quite a number of creatures who have fallen through the ice lie at its bottom, having drowned but remain undying because of the lake's properties.
An elven city was once located within the trees, but the constant beat of winds and the voracious insects that live here have eaten away all sign. Feet below the ice however can be found items of beauty and magical properties that fell and were covered over.
History:
A vast icy plain, the site of an ancient battle between eladrin and the minions of Iborighu. They were to the last man slaughtered and cursed as spirits to constantly patrol the locale, pursuing any who enter. Their natures twisted and made hateful to all things warm, they seek to rip from intruders their warmth and so became frostfell ghosts.
These eladrin were of the few not to leave after the comet's impact, but instead remained true to their pledge to protect a nearby valley. In the middle of this valley lie a lake of no great size, and little different than the thousands of others that speckle the land of hearth. Or so it once was. For upon the dropping of the comet and the many portals that opened, one opened within the lake, and the water for many days boiled. Not with heat, but with pure life force. The plants that would otherwise have quickly died in the permanent cold that was to come instead flourished and have grown and become larger than they ever would have. Plants found almost nowhere else on Hearth are in constant bloom here, and so the eladrin remained, to protect this paradise in the snow.
As a patrol of frostfolk pledged to Iborighu came near this obscene greenery to burn it down they were attacked by these elven guardians. The eladrin however were unable to defeat their foes, and thus exterminated. The woods wood not burn however, and though the Winterhaunt could kill individual trees with all their combined strength, this seemed a woods unable to die. They cursed the snows around the valley and so rose up the unfortunate spirits of the eladrin who now hate what they once loved most.
Arcadian hollies are now the only true guardians of this valley, roaming lands nearby and protecting the exceedingly rare individuals who come close. Few animals can pass by the spirits to visit this valley aside from birds. The original inhabitants of the valley were forced to remain or die of cold beyond its borders. They remained, and never died, but continued to grow and thrive.
Beneath the ice, in the freezing waters lives Teyti, a rusalka fey who rejoices at the change to the valley, who luxuriates in the life of her lake. Becoming more than the protector till nearly its disciple, she has become herself filled with life force till she can barely contain. It took her hundreds of years to learn to focus and suppress her own energy, but eventually prevailed with the aid of the eladrin whom she grew to love, and they her.
Even to another Rusalka's eyes Teyti is nearly beyond beauty. Her lustrous pale skin literally glows with health. Her luxurious hair reaches to her feet, sparkling with greenish golds. The ice blue eyes that look out are sweetly caring and simultaneously joyful and sad. She wears a simple but exquisite, diaphanous gown seemingly woven out of water itself, with faint designs of ivies, flowers and fruits worked into it seamlessly like patterns carved onto an icy windowpane. Her feet are bare, and webbing stretches between the toes.
Teyti: Rusalka cleric 5;CR 9; Medium Fey; HD 6d6+24 plus 5d8+20; 96 hp (at max from constant proximity to positive energy plane leakage); Init +4; Spd 30 ft., swim 30 ft.; AC 16, touch 14, flat-footed 12; Base Atk +6;Grp +1; Atk or Full Atk +11 melee (1d4+1, masterwork dagger); SA beguiling song, cleric spells, turn undead 8/day (2d6+10, 5th); SQ low-light vision, water breathing, water symbiosis; AL CG; SV Fort +12, Ref +10, Will +11; Str 12, Dex 18, Con 18, Int 12, Wis 14, Cha 21;
Skills and Feats: Diplomacy +13, Escape Artist +10*, Hide +10*, Knowledge (nature) +4, Knowledge (the planes) +4, Listen +10, Move Silently +10, Perform (sing) +13, Spot +10, Swim +12, Use Rope +4 (+6 with bindings); Augment Healing, Endurance, Great Fortitude, Diehard, Weapon Finesse
Cleric Spells Known (5/4/3/1 per day; caster level 5)
0 - Cure Minor Wounds, Detect Poison, Mending, Purify Food and Drink, Resistance
1st - Bless, Bless Water, Remove Fear, Sanctuary
2nd - Consecrate, Lesser Restoration, Summon Monster II
3rd - Remove Disease
D: Domain Spell. Domains: Healing (healing spells at +1 caster level) and Water (turn or destroy fire creatures as a good cleric turns undead. Rebuke, command, or bolster water creatures as an evil cleric rebukes undead.)
Possessions: +1 returning dagger
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Inhabitants of Aeviwood
One entire slope that reaches down into aeviwood is dominated by a single organism, an assassin vine that has choked out all plants in its area. It still continues to grow, slowly but surely and in another thousand years the whole wood may someday be covered by its horrible creepers.
Assassin Vine, Great: CR 11; Colossal Plant, HD 33d10+336; 517 hp; Init -1; Spd 5 ft.; AC 19, touch 1, flat-footed 19; Base Atk +24; Grp +33; Atk or full Atk +33 melee (3d6+17, slam); SA constrict 3d6+17, entangle, improved grab; SQ blindsight 30 ft., camouflage, immunity to electricity, low-light vision, plant traits, resistance to cold 10 and fire 10; AL N; SV Fort +29, Ref +10, Will +12; Abilities: Str 44, Dex 8, Con 32, Int , Wis 13, Cha 9
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One of the first beasts of the wild land to be met is a pure white praying mantis who hides within the brambles. It immediately springs out and grabs the nearest newcomer, giving a hard bite as it begins to feast.
Max HD Giant Praying Mantis: CR 6; Huge Vermin; HD 12d8+48; 102 HP; Init -2; Spd 20 ft., fly 40 ft. (poor); AC 15, touch 6, flat-footed 15; Base Atk +9; Grp +16; Atk or Full Atk +16 melee (2d6+8, claws) and +11 melee (1d8+4, bite); SA improved grab; SQ darkvision 60 ft., vermin traits; AL N; SV Fort +12, Ref +2, Will +6; Str 27, Dex 6, Con 19, Int , Wis 14, Cha 11
Skills and Feats: Hide +4, Spot +6; -
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Though death is difficult within aeviewood, there are still the occasional trees that fall, pulled over by the sheer weight of ice and snow. Within these massive trunks many insects live, and within are layed the eggs of giant bugs. The maggots of these insectoid beasts sometimes take years to fully grow, and lie in wait within their woody burrows, ready to snap at anything that comes near.
Max HD Dire Maggot: CR 4; Huge Vermin; HD 11d8+11; 60 hp; Init +2; Spd 40 ft., climb 40 ft.; AC 16, touch 10, flat-footed 14; Base Atk +8; Grp +9; Atk or Full Atk +7 (1d8+1 plus paralytic saliva, bite); SA paralytic saliva (Fort DC 14); SQ darkvision 60 ft.; AL N; SV Fort +8, Ref +5, Will +3; Str 13, Dex 15, Con 12, Int -, Wis 10, Cha 2
Skills and Feats: Climb +11, Hide +2, Spot +4; -
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Giant Bald Eagle
Within the massive canopies and nearby peaks giant eagles make their home. Awakened to sentience by the eladrin and then grown to great size by the life force present, they are sight to see, circling Teyti's lake and emerging with gars the size of bears.
Giant Leech
Leeches of horrifying size swim within the chill waters of Teyti's Lake, sometimes leaping up to grab hold of a giant eagle and burrow beneath its feathers to suck blood.
Legendary Bear
These bears of great size and strength are the predominate predator of Aeviewood and are even known to combat assassin vines long enough to get hold of their delicious berries.
Ravid
Ravids have long occupied Aeviewood since the fissure was formed beneath the waters. They use the lake as a portal into and out of Hearth. Quite a number dance about within the forests, but few remain long for they have difficulty withstanding the frigid temperatures.
Vivacious Creatures
A number of creatures have poured from Teyti's lake whom are native to the positive energy plane, along with some of the original beasts of the valley who have become so steeped in positive energy. Almost any creature of cold or temperate mountains and forest can be found here with the Vivacious template.
Croakine
Spoiler
"Many, many years ago, not so long after the great cold, our brave ancestors sought warmer lands. But they faced many hardships, and their numbers were dwindled. It was then that a mother who had lost two babes on the journey threw herself down upon her knees. She howled up to the sky with grief and misery, pleading for release from the fear of the certain death they surely faced. Lamentea herself wept with the woman and when she later died and was buried beneath stones, the goddess sent the woman's soul into the ground and awakened the land itself. For many miles around her people it shifted and shook and a nearby lake began to steam. Much of the land flattened and became rich soil, and cracks of water opened and fed the blossoming heather and mosses. Many of the people were frightened and attempted to flee, but great mountains sprung up and blocked their way. There was much fear present, but Lamentea gave them strength and with the seeds they had brought and with the game that came, they were fed. And such has it been told to every young one, so that they might know why we are here, and how our people were blessed and how we must not leave or the spirit of the lands, our protector, will not be angered. For beyond our lands the cold has come and covered all, and we would surely die if we left. We alone are the only living peoples remaining on this world, our little spot of paradise."
Croakine, as the stories told, is a living land. When the druids brought forth the heat from below certain concentration of elemental energy was released, one such spot giving birth to a genius loci. When the refugees came through its curiosity, if the dull instincts it came into life with could be called such, was piqued. It allowed the woman to be buried in its substance and merged with her consciousness before it could flee. Formed then was a land ideally suited to the travelers and it warmed the land and air about itself for their comfort.
Croakines, because of their inability to leave their home have formed a society based on cooperation and teamwork. Politeness, tradition, manners and other ways of behavior are paramount to keeping the peace of the small community. Forgiveness is very important for if grudges were to form the town could easily tear itself apart. And so Croakine is perhaps one of the most civilized people on all of Hearth out of necessity for survival.
Banner/Colors: Variations of the rose is a popular symbol in Croakine, showing their devotion to Lamentea.
Population: 600+; 100% human
Primary Language: Common
Year of Establishment: 565 YoF
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Government: Croakines are ruled by the current thrall of the genius loci, who willingly goes into its service for the good of the people once its current one dies of old age. The successor is chosen by their commitment to the people of Croakine and dedication to their well being. The thrall then proves this fact by giving up their individuality to bond with the loci. Thus the relationship with the loci is symbiotic; it protects the community, and the community in turn continues to provide it with the joy of sentience.
Thus the ways of the government is communistic, with none allowed to go hungry, and few possessing much in the way of wealth, though it is not actively discouraged.
Government popularity: The rule of the loci is not so much accepted or resented as it is understood to be essential for survival of the close-knit community.
Army: Croakine retains no army, nor even guards.
Defenses: The landscape of Croakine itself is more than enough to deter practically any possible opponent.
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| SOCIETY |
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Constabulary: Disputes, thievery and most other minor crimes is handled by the head priests of the church of Lamentea. Murders, rape, and other heinous crimes are judged by the genius loci and his thrall, who together retain the wisdom and knowledge of every one of its former thralls.
Method of execution: Beings who pose a risk to the community are dealt the worst possible sentence, expulsion. Without any knowledge of life of the outside world they rarely last long in the arctic wilderness.
Common skills of inhabitants: Croakines are extremely self reliant, and have to be. Everything they eat is grown or raised within the borders of the loci, everything built with the materials in the nearby mountains or the trees in the local forests.
Clothing: Croakines tend to dress in somber, natural colors of what to most other humans would seem far too formal.
Darkfalls Rift
Spoiler
From time out of memory its split the lands of the south. A great fissure that spreads for many hundreds of miles, and with no seeming bottom. Dozens of rivers pour into it, disappearing into the inscrutable darkness. Thick mosses and lichens dangle down for hundreds of feet, the like of which grows little elsewhere, and other hardy plants coat its cliffs and cracks.
If one were to go down a mile, two miles, nearly three however, light would begin to be seen as the temperature rose rapidly to merely cool. Monstrous ledges and overhangs jut out, covered with strange yet enchantingly beautiful plants that resemble both tree and fungus called the teaxi by those who love them most and care for them.
For in the darkness nearby reside a people that hurl themselves from shelf to shelf with energetic cries, tempting death with each leap. These overhangs, ridges formed naturally from layers of stone could hide a city, and in fact they do, dozens of them, tens of dozens, some even hidden behind grand waterfalls. Though bridges, slides, ropes, and hands cut into the rock are available, many disdain them, instead taking great flying leaps of astounding agility to the next level. Such is the land of the Xephs.
The city is uniquely three dimensional, honeycombing the cliff sides and tunnels up into the bottoms or lowering into the ceilings of other stone shelves. Pulleys, hoists and cranks allow them to raise or lower great weights from area to area. Goodly portions of the cities extends hundreds of feat into cleared areas of the cliffside itself. Most though prefer to live out in the open where the winds made by the rushing river below and above can be felt. Descending and ascending trails cut into the mountainsides lead to the farther cities. To newcomers it would appear an intriguing maze, but it suits its inhabitants.
Woods of the Teaxi
The glowing forests of teaxi trees are almost considered holy unto themselves, and indeed all their religious locales are to be found within these fantastic woods. Traditionally children are conceived and born here and the carers for the trees, normally women, raise the children, teaching and singing, with the parents visiting every moment of their spare time. The first steps of a child are an important occasion, and it is the day they take their first steps that is considered their birthday. The children remain until they are capable of running strong, generally around their 4th birthday when they acquire their names. The parents then bring them into the cities, though they visit the forests again as often as possible. In this way they always remember the joyous times of singing and running that remains with them for always.
If for some reason a child is unable to run from a twisted leg, clubbed foot, or some other physical deformity, they tend to be kept for as long as they wish within the forest. They generally become clerics or druids of the holy places, their god being considered to have made his mark on the child. A physical 'remain here to serve'.
Population: 60,000+; 100% Xeph
Primary Language: Xeph
Year of Establishment: Unknown. The Xeph believe they were sung into existence by the teaxi trees, which produces eerie, beautiful tones when wind rushes past their crystaline branches.
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| GOVERNMENT |
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Government:
The carers of the teaxi and the clerics of the woods are held in the highest respect by the people, as it was they who raised nigh every Xeph in the rift. What they have to say is listened to, but their real power over the people is their right to close off the forests to any who are deemed unworthy. This does not halt the workings of the cities, but those who are closed off feel a spiritual hole within their selves.
Army:
The warriors of the Darkfalls generally consists of elite soulknives called the Thorns, their minds opened and blessed by the carers of the forests for their dedication to the people of the Darkfalls.
Primary Enemy:
Aside from the rare prowlings of oozes and strange creatures from the murky waters below, Xephs have been little bothered by anything. That is until several years ago when the horrible duergar and their slaves came tunneling straight into the Teaxi Woods. With confusion and wonder they walked amongst the trees and met a fascinated young Xeph whom they captured, questioned and then enslaved. They forced him to serve them as they cleared the teaxi that grew in their way, but he cried in anguish as the first fell. With a speed that took them by surprise he whisked off into the forest. A war has waged since.
Fighting Style:
Aside from the Thorn's soulknives, the carers for the trees are known to meld with their trees and direct them, routing their unique abilities through the soil to strike the duergar raids.
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| SOCIETY |
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Constabulary:
The Thorns were originally the peacekeepers of the Darkfalls, and still they remain when they battle not the grey dwarves and their slaves.
Laws:
<<Work in progress>>
Method of Execution:
It takes a horrible deed for a Xeph to be worthy of death. Those who are deemed such are taken to the woods of teaxi and their minds searched by the carers for the trees. If they are found to be guilty of what they are accused and show no remorse in their heart their minds are erased, and what they are extinguished. They are then reraised with rigorous conditioning to keep from repeating their former path of evil.
Niglitok
Spoiler
A heart beats in the cold. The blizzard flows through it chiller than the blood of a dead murderer. It beats to the rhythm of the world, a world whose most frigid gale is still like the blast of a furnace on the face of the lord of the blizzard. It is called Nigliktok, the heart of Iborighu.
Where the land becomes ice thicker than anywhere else, where the very air one breathes grows cold and rains down, where ice becomes more solid than rock and dryer than sand, where no life as we know it exists is found Niglitock. It literally appears as frozen heart the size of a mountain, its veins snaking down to merge with the ice cap and beyond. The will of Iborighu resides here.
For hundreds of miles around it red streaks of bloodsnow course through the vast fields of the crust of frozen water, speckled with ice geysers and glaciers of ebony ice. Little can be seen to move aside from the Winterhaunt whoes bodies have been shorn away to become ice itself. Creatures of cold from Iborighu's realm, elementals, Dying Embers, ice golems, and undead can also be found; creatures unconcerned by the lack of air and the temperatures so low they burn.
Far below where the ice gives way to rock, out of the wind, there is heat enough to keep the air breathable and keep alive lesser species. Duergar, icebeasts, frostfolk, icegaunts, and others are to be found in the unimaginably deep tunnels beneath Niglitok. Since the freeing of Iborighu and the retaliation of the lovers of warmth, they have worked. Thousands of years of delving and tunneling. Slowly, oh so slowly, they make their way to the pockets of geothermal energy that spot the world. Already several comparatively lush areas have died as Nigliktok extended its tendrils through the prepared area and converted the heat to coldfire. Its experiments successful, it now only waits for the tunneling to reach the great warmth of Hearth and at once volcanoes will erupt with ice, lakes shall freeze, and the world will be consumed in eternal winter.
Last edited by The Vorpal Tribble : 01-23-2011 at 11:22 AM.
The peoples of Hearth are predominately Dwarven or Human, the latter of which have split or bred themselves into a great many subcultures. Humans themselves are furthermore a subset of another cross breed that produced the most adaptable of all. The others fill their own niche more completely than humanity, and better, but outside of it do nowhere near as well.
Spoiler
Human Breeds
- Liccan
- Longhouse
- Imperial
- Poqtian
Utlännings are strangers from one's own race but of the same nation or culture.
Framlings are strangers who are of one's own species but who are from another nation or culture.
Ramen are strangers from another species who are capable of communication and peaceful coexistence with humanity.
Varelse are strangers from another species who are wholly alien and not capable of communication and/or peaceful coexistence with humanity. There may or may not be violence involved. For example a wild animal would be varelse.
Djur are the dire beasts and slavering monsters that prey on humanity.
While they may possess intelligence, a djur brings nothing but death and destruction.
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Human
Spoiler
Humans are the most prolific race on the surface of Hearth, though are far outnumbered by the dwarves below. The vast majority of humans live within the Ring, in the major cities in areas of geothermal activity, though true to their wanderlust nature have villages dotting the world in even the most unlikely places.
Imperical/Longhouse Humans
Spoiler
Because even in Hearth's past rain and clouds have been an almost ever-present feature of the world, few ever developed darkened skin. Most are pale skinned without freckles, and a large minority are truly albino, possessing blue eyes with a pinkish tinge instead of red. Hair spans all colors, though blondes, platinum, and a very light orange are most common, followed by auburn, black, and then brown.
Amongst most Ring inhabitants the thickness of beard, head and body hair amongst human males are indicative of attractiveness.
Woman likewise never cut their hair, and those that are thin and slight of build are considered unable to keep their body temperatures up and thus highly unattractive, even more so than extreme obesity. In fact, at least a slight amount of body fat is expected. Therefore the majority of human woman are strong, have hair past her feet, large hips and an ample bosom. Such is considered the height of beauty. The giving of a long braid of hair is a sign of love, and nearly every husband has such a gift coiled within their jerkins, over their heart. Ring human, though ranging amongst the entire spectrum of personalities, are generally neutral good, staying to the law as it suits, but snubbing their noses at it when it oversteps its bounds.
Liccan
Spoiler
Liccan standards are nearly opposite that of Ring outsiders, with leanly muscular, petite woman being the ideal, and the men shaved and strong, though of whiplash builds. They have a pale sallow complexion and large almond eyes of unusual beauty compared to other humans. Hair color is usually dark, though a large minority are born with completely white hair.
Liccan humans are most often lawful neutral, for they have been led by strict laws and iron traditions since time inmemorable.
Regardless of locale, humans are lovers of story and song, and considered to be the most imaginative of Hearth races. A bard can be as respected as the emperor for a time if he has an unheard story and a masterful way to its telling. Sagas and epics in particular will hold most spell bound, and none can tell one like a human.
This imagination both fascinates and frightens other races, such as the dwarves, who have never fought with humankind except on individual or clan basis. Then it is usually the eventual death of the dwarf, for even the Midgard will admit that when mankind turn this creative potential to killing they are second to none.
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Cheval (ramen)
Spoiler
Chevals, also known as the mirror-touched, are descended from liaisons between humans and nerra, the peoples of the Plane of Mirrors. To keep up appearances in their role while usurping the position of whatever person they are imitating the Nerra must sometimes produce children. The result is offspring of great beauty with a strange connection to reflections and glimmerings.
As well, with the great deal of ice and water upon Hearth it is a natural place to gain the nerra's attention. Some look longingly out upon the world, and some do actually fall in love with the mortals they watch.
Personality: The personalities and behavior of chevals are as much varied as other humans, sometimes even within the same individual. Chevals have a tendency to mimic those around them and have difficulty retaining their own personalities. They tend to be watchful and with a proclivity for secrecy. Chevals often split into one of two types; those who become subservient, mere shadows or copies of another they greatly admire or those who develope overbearing and conceited personalities in defense with a finely honed sense of self.
Physical Description: Strangely glimmering skin devoid of blemishes and of great smoothness, pupiless eyes like pools of still mercury, or shining silvery white hair are all common physical hints of a mirror-touched. Sometimes mirrors themselves are known to flicker or ripple at the Cheval's presence and their reflections appear ghostly and unreal.
Relations: Chevals are always heralds of woeful times to come for it reveals to the other parent that their true spouse has been disposed of, or that their lover is not who they thought. The child is a symbol of a great lie, one that most find trouble accepting. Thus the child of such a union is treated with the greatest suspicion. They usually must then prove themselves worthy of trust and not of the ways of their parent, or they slip into secrecy and a web of lies themselves where they will not be judged. Nerra are known to kill the infant however if its appearance is enough to throw suspicion on their current roll.
Alignment: Chevals vary as widely as humans, though many tend to lawful or chaotic neutral, divided by those who make use of laws and those who refuse to be bound by them. Whichever way they lean their ways are mostly secretive and layered with levels of deceit without a thought either way for morals.
Cheval Lands: Chevals are almost always abandoned with their human parent and so share their homes. They dislike squalor however, with a mind to beauty and glamor, so many make a strong attempt to rise up in society to positions of influence or, as often occurs, mere playthings or yes-men of the wealthy.
Religion: Chevals are as at least likely to 'worship' themselves as a deity. They don't tend to any specific one, though those of death they find particularly repugnant. Deities of beauty are the most frequent.
Language: Chevals know common, though are quick to pick up on other languages.
Names: Chevals use the same names as humans.
Cheval Racial Traits
* Native: Cheval's are Outsiders with the native subtype.
* +2 Charisma: Chevals are often very comely beings with an instinctive knowledge of body language that allows them to better associate with others.
* Medium: As medium creatures, chevals have no bonuses or penalties due to their size.
* A cheval's base land speed is 30 ft.
* Lowlight Vision: Chevals can see twice as far as a human in starlight, moonlight, torchlight, and similar conditions of pure illumination. They retain the ability to distinguish color and detail under these conditions.
* Mirror Vision (Su): Three times per day a cheval may look into a mirror and see another location they have visited before and that also has a mirror. They may view for 1 round per HD. This does not allow one to see in the dark if the location is in shadow.
* Reflective Sight (Sp): A cheval is immune to gaze attacks.
* Spell-Like Abilities: 1/day - Disguise Self. Caster level is equal to Hit Dice.
* +2 racial bonus on Disguise, Bluff, Search and Spot checks. A cheval is a natural mimic and notices the smallest details.
* Automatic Languages: Common. Bonus languages: Abyssal, Celestial, Infernal, Nerra.
* Favored Class: Sorcerer
* Level Adjustment: +1
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Darfellan (ramen)
Spoiler
The Darfellan are the most prolific race of the great Ochine, and their wandering bands can be found from one end to the other. It is not certain if their race is descended from actual orcas, or the descendants of were-whales, but they share much in common with them.
They do frequent trading with coastal human towns, and even some hundreds of miles inland, following the rivers as well as they are able.
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Dwarf (varies)
Spoiler
Dwarves are the oldest surviving race on Hearth, descendants of a race of celestial ancestors who as one were banished to Hearth for their rebellion against their god himself. Those who left their roaming mountain reverted to mortality and adapted to their chosen terrain.
There are no less than 5 types of dwarves in the world of Hearth: Common, Dream, Duergar, Glacier, and Midgard.
Common (Ramen)
Common dwarves ( live in the mountains and somewhat beneath the ground, though most prefer to always live at least a day's journey from the surface. They have a thriving relationship with humans. Humans buy their ores, and dwarves buy their wood. Many humans have also gone to live beneath the ground, as the temperature is warmer below year round than at almost any time during the year, even within the Ring. In turn many dwarves like the bracing chill and exciting winds of the surface world and have formed extended colonies above. These Dwarves are eagerly welcomed into human communities, particularly if they have smithing and stone-working skills, and humans into dwarven. In fact, it is uncommon but not unheard of for dwarves and humans to marry, usually human males to dwarven females, though they are incapable of producing offspring.
Dream (Ramen)
Dream dwarves are the rarest of all dwarf kind and few are seen. They are the philosophers and mentalists of their people, with a tie to the earth even the Midgard have not achieved. It is within locales of deep crystal and psychic nodes that they first formed. The duergar were once dream dwarves, but they went mad with the revelations and dug deep and far where it was safe. The dream dwarves instead accepted the knowledge and grew from it.
Duergar (Varelse)
Duergar in turn detest the light and chill of the upper lands and dwell deeper than the roots of the mountains. They hold an intense grudge of the surface dwellers for their fracturing of the crust, for with the earthquakes and constant seeping magma their civilization, though still impressive, is nothing like it once was. Though they take prisoners in hit and strike raids upon the common dwarves for slaves, they don't dare openly oppose them or the humans. Mountains are so plentiful that common dwarves have multiplied like vermin to their minds and vastly outnumber them. Even with their psionic powers they could never hope for victory until something is done to lessen their population.
Glacier (Ramen)
Glacier dwarves were once a small, primitive people living in the freezing ice caves of the artic circles of Hearth, but since the Years of Frost they have risen an impressive society and their numbers have been able to increase and spread with the surplus of frozen land now to be found. They rarely tunnel into earth itself, and find the thought slightly offensive. Clean ice is their medium.
The most famous glacier dwarf city is the Azure Floe on the beaches of a great frozen sea.
Midgard (Varelse)
Midgard dwarves are the ancestors of all the dwarves of Hearth. When they refused to obey the tenants of the higher planes they were cast down with their precious mountain and have wandered since. This incredible mountain slowly wanders the world. Within is a paradise of both worked and unworked caverns that reflect their exalted origins, filled with metal and stonework the like of which is unequaled anywhere on Hearth. They have nothing to do with the other races if they can help it, instead pursuing their own goals and wills as they always have.
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Free Peoples (ramen)
Spoiler
The Free People, or half-orcs as they were once called, have a long and fascinating history that is often the story of bards. Near the 50th circling of Døende Aske after the comet a long, wearying battle was waged against the humans by the orcs whom saw them severely weakened by the sudden onslaught of freezing weather. In one infamous battle all the human men of a large town were killed as their woman hid in the caves. As they eventually ventured forth out of desperation the orcs captured the woman and gave them half-orc children. These woman were killed soon after and the children raised by their cruel fathers. These half-orcs were seen as weak, and sent out to die in the wilderness. The children banded together and managed to survive long enough to make it to human lands. Horrified by these monstrosities they were shunned and quite a few killed. And so it went on, killed by orcs in the frostfell, chased away by humans in the warmer climates. They grew bitter and as they became older would often raid both of their parent's races, taking out their frustrations on their kin. Their numbers were too small however to be any serious threat and so extinction became a very real possibility. Then finally Harkatottom, one of the first children born to this dying clan, awoke near his 25th year and spoke of a vision he had had after the passing of his father to an orc axe. One where they did not have to fight, where they were a people unto themselves with their original beginnings forgotten. And with his insights and beliefs he started a religion that revered nature, but did not worship it so much as respected it, for the half-orc people had always had respect for the land. To the spirits of the brave, honorable and strong they sent their prayers, asking for them to intercede from the World Beyond and ask for their protection. With the ways he taught they forgot their sullen anger and instead learned to laugh into the face of adversity and chuckle at death knowingly instead of fearing it. When Harkatottom died at an impossibly old age of 84 he was risen to a place above all other ancestors. The leader of all the spirits of the half-orc tribe they believed, and so he became, and they revered him.
Half-orcs, or The Free People as they are called, are now considered a good-natured race, wild and full of life. They are swift to laugh and troubled by very little. They are quick to anger however if one in their midst becomes bloodthirsty like their orc kin, or tied to money and power like the humans. A depressed free person is a sight rarely seen, and even if death claims a close friend they will cheer on the spirit of the deceased, urging it to the Spirit World with laughter, song and teasing. A Free Person's friendship is difficult to attain if not Free as well, but when it is won, it is won for life.
Dancing, drumming and kayaking (a free people invention) are amongst their favorite pastimes, along with wrestling and a deadly sport they call 'Demon Tempting'. Demon Tempting consists of climbing to the highest mountain peak around during a blizzard or thunderstorm and roaring curses and mocking the storm with good-natured zeal. If one can go the entire day without being blown off or struck by lightening one is considered to have won the argument with the spirits of the storms. If one is struck or blown off and lives it is laughingly said that the argument was only won by the backhanded blow of the spirit.
The free people are led by shamans, totemists, clerics and druids of their kind. They are respected tremendously by the tribe, though not always is their wisdom heeded, especially by the young.
Amongst the steepest ravines, where one can find powerful winds and raging rapids, this is where the free people people now reside. Living life in the most untameable lands to their fullest, though others see them as incomprehensively reckless and foolhardy.
Free People Traits
+2 Strength, 2 Intelligence: Half-orcs are powerfully built, though are more prone to let their hearts lead them than their heads.
Humanoid (Incarnum): The free people are humanoids with the incarnum subtype.
Medium: As Medium creatures, the free people have no special bonuses or penalties due to their size.
Free peoples base land speed is 40 feet.
Low-Light Vision: Free people see twice as far as a human in starlight, moonlight, torchlight, and similar conditions of poor illumination. They retain the ability to distinguish color and detail under these conditions.
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Goliaths (ramen)
Spoiler
As humans fled to the mountains many were raped by trolls before being eaten. A number managed to survive, but their mothers usually wishes nothing to do with them. A dwarven clan took pity and began to gather those unfortunates. Grown, they were given a choice to stay with their dwarven family, but most felt cramped and claustrophobic as they reached adult height. They set out to wander and discover themselves. They gathered other children they heard of like them, and grew in numbers, though of no greatness.
Goliaths are now little more than an oddity in Hearth as far as humans are concerned, traveling hither and thither with little to trade for or with. The occasional branta pelt, stone carving, or similar exotic item is all most acquire from them. They rarely visit human lands for they dislike the warm, low, river-fed valleys.
Goliaths are find all across Hearth, often wherever other races can be avoided. Half-orcs were once friends of the goliaths, but their dares and wreckless nature caused so many young goliaths to perish in an attempt to save their pride that they are now treated with cold hostility.
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Kenku (ramen)
Spoiler
Kenku are one of the least understood of the sentients of Hearth, being extraordinarily secretive and private peoples. They are known to venture practically everywhere, having an insatiable curiosity that rarely allows them to build a home. Because of this trait, while being an intelligent people have no capital nor form of government, simply searching and seeking information their entire lives.
They will trade this information for a price, though demand payment up front as many dislike what they hear from these creatures.
Spying and stalking are what they are best at and most mentally suited for, and are an exceptionally cunning race. Many will steal if they feel they can get away with it, as much for what they take as the thrill of the theft.
They make excellent surgeons as well, though their services are often high as in general they would as often prefer to vivisect a wounded creature as to heal it. They are rarely cruel, simply uncaring of others, showing little empathy even to their own race.
Many choose a mate, the only one they trust to share their secrets. They stop in their journeys only long enough to lay a clutch of eggs, which they will guard with unparalleled paranoia. Only in unreachable heights, hidden caves, or other dark and secretive locations can they be found. The children are then raised during this period fearing every breath of wind and twitch of a shadow. By the time they are ready to leave their parents sides they have taken on the suspicious natures that they will carry over to their own brood.
All in all this behavior casts a distinct sinister pall over the people and doings, which is often justified. Just as often however they mean no ill towards others, and most tend towards neutral rather than evil, but their paranoia, macabre curiosity and black humor does not aid their reputation.
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Okilei (ramen) (Oh-kee-lay)
Spoiler
The Okilei are the children of humans who carry the child to term while the entire time infected with the Ohrwurm psychosis (see below). They share their mother's music in the womb, and for the first several years of life are comforted and sung to by it, but immediately upon birth they begin to form a song of their own. The child appears normal, except for a great enlargement and elaboration of their ears. Willful and filled with a complex and deep-set personality, they are rarely forgotten when met. They are sometimes feared and shunned by others, fearful of their spreading the beautiful psychosis that they hold within.
Personality: If there is anything an Okilei possesses, it's a personality. These range the full human gamut, but tend to be a little larger than life. They aren't so much more emotional than other humans, more that they are in tune with them, literally. Almost all Okilei are emotionally stable, and have a deep love of themselves. It is no obsession nor vanity, they simply know who they are as the best of themselves plays out in musical refrain from the depths of their heart.They are, in their own way, nearly always content, even their despair more of a bittersweet, romantic nature than crushing. The constant play of the song within their heads soothes and comforts.
Physical Description: Okilei vary as much as any human, though they tend to appear younger due to the lack of lines and flaws developed from stress and sadness, conditions almost alien to an Okilei. What truly distinguishes them however is their strange and wonderful organs of hearing.They may grow to several feet long, and develop intricate whirls, convolutions and extrusions. Each child's ear growth differs greatly from every other okilei. Whether these organs aid in the detection of the ohwurm song is as yet unknown. Okilei consider ears, especially those of their own race, the most beautiful physical feature of another.
Alignment: Okilei are rarely evil, being filled with too much beauty and inner satisfaction to succumb to the more base desires. It does occur, but infrequently. They also tend more towards chaotic alignments, valuing freedom greatly. Self-expression is what an Okilei live for. As such, chaotic good is the most common alignment.
Lands: Most Okilei are of the Vale of Harmony a land between two mountain ranges where an oddly musical wind often blows. Birds here are plentiful, and waterfalls roar in the distance. It is not a particularly picturesque location, chosen more for sound than sight. Colonized as a sort of retreat and quarantine by those infected by the Ohrwurm disease, it is alike to many other human settlements, except the music of mind, tongue and instrument can be heard throughout the day and night. Guard capable of dampening their song, or normal humans immune to the song, patrol the roads that lead into the valley to turn away visitors unprepared for the psychic cacophony.
Power Groups: Trying to control Okilei and the ohrwurm infected is, as the old expression goes, like trying to herd cats. Each being so strong of self and independent, it is a great undertaking. As such, diplomacy and the like is needed in almost all things, convincing the people to convince themselves. The individuals to do so are usually the most strong-willed of an already strong-willed people. They are known as the Maestro, who literally organize all the personalities and their music into a great orchestra of cooperation. The result appeals to most of the inflicted, enough so that they allow themselves to be themselves, but also part of the Grand Song.
Beliefs: The beliefs of the Okilei are as various as any human, though many Okilei find no need in celestial comfort. As such, only the devout who seek a deity for other reasons are known in the Vale. Religions that are oppressive or reject personal freedoms do not long last amongst the people however.
Languages: Okilei speak the language of their human parent in general, though also have a sort of orchestral sign-language, using tone and meter in their mental tunes to speak. Most however enjoy vocal speech for its own sake, and use it flavored or accompanied by a mental refrain. Only the Okilei are abel to master this language, even Ohrwurm's not able to decipher the intricate emotional overtones.
Names: Okilei have no given names, their song far more individual and specific than any name. However, they do enjoy making for themselves intricate names and sounds that appeal to them. They often will use these amongst non-okilei who do not easily hear their song. Many find these names to resemble Sylvan, though more for the inherent beauty in it as there is little to no intersection of the languages.
Okilei Racial Traits
Wis -2, Cha +2: Okilei possess inherently strong personalities but tend to be rather whimsical and flighty.
* Humanoid (Human, Psionic): Okilei are humanoid creatures with the human and psionic subtype.
* Medium: As Medium creatures, okilei have no special bonuses or penalties due to their size.
* Okilei base land speed is 30 feet.
* Ohrwurm Carriers: Okilei are immune to the negative benefits of the Ohrwurm psychosis and are considered to have the Disease Immunity (Ohrwurm) feat (Heroes of Horror, p. 121). In fact, being born with it, it is literally an aspect of their personality. However, they cannot infect another until they have reached 5 HD. At that point the spread of the disease is at their discretion. Okilei have perfect control over their song and require no actions to repress its infectious qualities.
* Born Performer: An Okilei gains a +2 bonus to Perform checks and a +4 bonus to Listen checks. These are considered class skills.
* Emotional Strength: Okilei are a deep feeling people, but their emotions are theirs to control. They gain a +2 bonus to saves against fear effects and other abilities, powers and spells that deal specifically with emotion. Morale bonuses are also doubled for an Okilei.
* Immunity to Depression: Okilei are immune to all despair effects, such as from that of a Crushing Despair spell, depression affects, those that specifically remove morale effects, and similar.
* Naturally Psionic: Okilei gain 1 bonus power point at 1st level. This benefit does not grant them the ability to manifest powers unless they gain that ability through another source, such as levels in a psionic class.
* Mindsong: Okilei are defined partially by the song within. To others of their people it is as much a part of their appearance as face and form. All other Okilei can hear the song in another at a distance roughly equivalent to their sight and know the general direction of another okilei or one infected with Ohrwurm as one would a distant tune. They may pinpoint the source of the song within 10 feet.
Once per day an Okilei may make a Perform check to affect a single creature out to 10 feet per HD. This creatures must succeed on a Will save equal to their perform check or be affected by the song for 1 round/2 HD unless otherwise noted. The affect is dictated by the okilei's song, which is a facet of their personality. This song cannot be changed. Any bardic music feat may also be applied to this song, including Extra Music. They choose from the following:
Ardent: This music, like its host, is especially passionate. Those that hear the song may manifest a single power, or cast a single spell at +1 level.
Bittersweet: This is the closest an Okilei has to a darkminded or depressed member. Their music is beautiful, yet melancholy and tragic. This music brings tears that causes the Dazzled condition for 1 minute/2 HD.
Contemplative: This music makes it easier to concentrate. The one effected gains a +4 bonus to Concentration checks, and can gain Psionic Focus as a move action. Other sources that provide faster focus do not stack with this ability.
Dreamy: Those that hear this soft, comforting song must succeed on their save or be affected as by the Sleep spell (HD limit equal to Okilei HD).
Eccentric: This music is exceedingly strange and chaotic. If the target attempts to cast a spell or manifest a power they must succeed on their save or a random spell or power is instead triggered at random of the same level and still have prepared or available. There is a possibility of the correct power or spell being used.
Eclectic: Like their music, this individual's personality seems to change from day to day. They may choose a new song from this list each day, though their lack of conviction to the music causes its duration to be halved (minimum 1 round).
Eerie: This music puts one on edge, causing them to become Shaken.
Energetic: This lively music provides a +10 bonus to all speeds and a +1 bonus to all Fortitude checks.
Fierce: Impassioned and aggressive, the target of this music can make an extra attack each round at a -5 penalty.
Inspiring: This music comes from a helpful and encouraging individual, granting their target a +1 competence bonus on skill checks with a particular skill.
Provocative: This music is mocking and somehow insulting to its listener. They can provoke one to focus their attacks solely on them if they fail their save. This acts as the Goad feat (ComAd).
Rash: This music rapidly bolsters and enthuses others, granting a +2 bonus to attack rolls, but the same target also takes a -1 penalty to their AC.
Raw: This music, like its owner, is loud, crude and unrefined. When targeting another with their mindsong their target must make a save or take 1d4 points of non-lethal damage per 2 HD.
Seductive: This music is sultry and rich, filled with sensual overtones. Those that fail their save are affected as by Charm Person. Against non-humanoid targets this music grants the singer a +4 bonus to Cha-based checks.
Soulful: This music enhances resolve and determination. The target may attempt to reroll a save against any affect he is under. He can attempt the roll any time during the mindsong, but may only re-roll 1 save.
Subtle: This music isn't at first noticeable, but slowly builds and works at the target's mind, causing them to take a -2 penalty to Will saves.
Whimsical: This music is odd and somewhat unreal. The okilei producing it gains a 20 percent miss chance against attacks from the target. This 20 percent miss chance is not the same as concealment.
* Automatic Language: Common and Okilei. Bonus Languages: Any (other than secret languages, such as Druidic).
* Favored Class: Bard.
* Level Adjustment: +0
Ohrwurm Psychosis
Spread by telepathic contact, Will DC (10 + half HD + Int or Cha modifier), incubation period one day, damage ohrwurm.
Ohrwurm is a psychic malady picked up after telepathic discourse with an exceptionally powerful intellect, leaving a sort of psionic ringing in the mind that disrupts telepathic communication. It is also passed by telepathic contact with one suffering from this affliction, such as the telepathy special ability or mind-affecting spells and powers or similar.
The victim becomes telepathically deaf, unable to send or receive telepathic communication, nor able to use psionic powers with the mind-affecting descriptor.
The secondary effect is 1d4 hours later the ringing forms into a melody lovely yet eerie beyond words that starts to play in the subject's mind. In addition to the previous symptoms, which remain, spellcasting, or concentrating on spells requires a Concentration check (DC = original DC) and the target takes a 2 penalty on initiative, skill checks, and ability checks for the duration. This state lasts for a number of days equal to the Charisma modifier of the carrier.
It can be cured by Psychic Chirurgery, but the manifester has a chance of contacting the malady in doing so (a roll of 1 on a six sided die means it has spread to the manifester). Reality Revision can also cure the Ohrwurm.
-=-
Raptoran (ramen)
Spoiler
As darfellan are a stable race of those with cetacean-weres in their distant past, so are raptorans descended from the weres of coastal raptors, such as seahawks and eagles. Their home capital is a great extinct caldera-island chain far out to sea. The isles are incredibly mountainous, and treacherous to any that cannot fly. Homes are carved out of rock, and built upon plateaus. The lowlier of the people live closest the ground and sea, but those as can fly high enough to reach the higher peaks literally ascend to higher station.
They are known as Angelicans by many, for their appearance greatly resembles those of a winged celestial.
They are exceptional astronomers and navigators, and are amongst the races the only to have seen the sky beyond the clouds. They are wont to make at least one great journey in their life before returning to their homes. This is known as the Great Flight, even though many must do so aboard ship or on foot. They do not return until they have discovered or seen something none have before them, learned a life lesson or piece of wisdom of great import, or defeated a mighty foe or rival. The manner of this discovery and its telling is often used in the interesting of a Lady. These women usually take of the successfully traveled males, based on their discoveries and their use or interest.
Warriors too are chosen by their prowess and bravery, and it is often the case that a Lady Raptoran takes each a Warrior, an Explorer and a Shine, a male chosen for solely his appearance. This way her hatchlings will, together encompass the traits of strength, curiosity and appearance. Only the most exceptional male that holds all three traits strongly can have his Lady for his own.
Such pairings of Lord and Lady become rulers of the others.
Their personalities tend toward mercurial moods, raising up in heat and anger only to descend into melancholy and depression a moment later. Adolescent raptorans in particular are incredibly dangerous, going into destructive rages. It is generally at this height they are sent on their Great Flight. Until then they form clannish gangs of both sexes who give each other moral support and protection until their emotions mature and hormones stabilize. Though young raptorans will have almost none ruling over them, each gang tends to be swayed by a young dominant female, who focuses the unchanneled energies of her friends into furthering her personal goals. Of the males that survive their Great Flight she often chooses at least one from her adolescent group.
-=-
Shifter (djur or ramen)
Spoiler
Shifters come from the unions of natural weres and the occasional humans, though shifter orcs are most common. They are a feral, dangerous people who adjusted very well to the cold that took over Hearth. They form large packs in the frostfell, some living animalistic lives with druidic traditions, others making raids on human towns. Many are also loners, exploring their entire lives. Few shifters are civilized, though a number make a living as trappers, hunters and scouts. Few shifters are good natured, and meetings between stranger shifters and others is one of guarded wariness.
Few shifters call any one place home, many merely following herds of branta and elk as they migrate from place to place.
-=-
Trlleeltrlaa (ramen)
(truh-lee, trah-la)
Spoiler
Trlleetrlaa, also known as Trufflefolk, are an unusual occurrence of fungal sentience. They evolved from colonies of parasitic fungus. Through their song they attract the fair folk, and through their spores infected them. The sylvan beings are filled with feverish visions of great beauty and wild sadness and the song fill their heads with a glorious melody. Possessed with the deepest longing to share the melody with others of its kind it would seek them out. As they began to sing to their brethren fungal blooms of incredible beauty would grow painlessly from all about them and in one final moment of ectasy and song they would fall. New fungus would then spread, each singing the unique song of the fey that hosted them. This requiem is in memory of their host and at the glory of life. To further show their appreciation and honor of the host they have attempted to take their form, appearing vaguely humanoid.
In spore form they lie dormant in the bloodstream until reaching brain matter. At that point they begin to grow and spread, bursting forth. At the final moment of their host's death they take the basic knowledge and instincts of their host, from which they use to grow on. This also determines the general mindset of each clan, though individuals may break from tradition and general practise of the clan.
Though trufflefolk will infect fey if possible, through no inclination of their own, they are capable of budding every 5 years if well nourished. This double is an exact clone of the parent.
Personality: Trlleetrlaa share much of the personality of the fey creatures from which they originated. Some may be aggressive and warlike while others peace loving and flighty. All however are great lovers of song with whimsical moments.
Physical Description: Trufflefolk normally appears as stocky, humanoid-shaped creature of rough, creased flesh with intricate wrinkles, veins and lumps. A large, fleshy growth normally adorns their head or back like fins. Two small, root-like antennae extend from the front of the face with waving tendrils. On each side of the face are two large orbs of smooth flesh that act as primitive eyes. They see very poorly, only shapes and shadows without color or great detail. Despite this, their coloration varies considerably, from pale pinks to dull oranges to grays and browns.
Alignment: Trufflefolk veer towards true neutrality in general, often not caring about anyone but their own people. Some however are well disposed towards others, while other trufflefolk can develop a cold hatred for non-trufflefolk. Alignment tends to be within one step of their original fey host, though there are many exceptions.
Lands: The Trlleetrlaa originate within the deeps of the Tangle. There, where near every plant has a limited ability to move, and eyes to see, they feel most at home.
Settlements: Trufflefolk tend more towards gardening and arborsculpture than building, having little need for shelter or food preparation. Certain trees do 'taste' better than others, so they attempt to cultivate them to the best of their ability.
The young also grow very slowly, so the tending and protection of trufflefolk buds are also much time consuming.
Power Groups: Trufflefolk do not have leaders as others know them.
Beliefs: Trufflefolk tend to be druidic in beliefs, following the ebb and flow of nature. A large minority however revere the deity of a thousand tendrils, each one planted into a different world or plane. They believe it is this creature that awoke The Tangle, and subsequently the trlleetrllaa.
Languages: Trufflefolk speak Tulgey. The language is complex and difficult to reproduce, comprised primarily of an elaborate cricket-like chirps, trills and warbles. They can however reproduce most any other languages, though in a rolling, sing-song accent.
Names: Trufflefolk names are more like songs, having no true meaning, but is the melody of joy the parent expresses at their maturation.
Trlleeltrlaa Racial Traits
Con +4, Dex -4: Trufflefolk are incredibly resilient and hard to kill, but are extremely plodding and slow to react. * Medium: As Medium creatures, trufflefolk have no special bonuses or penalties due to their size. * Evolved Plant Type: Trufflefolk have the evolved plant type. This is similar to the normal plant trait except they are not immune to mind-affects and also require a period of dormancy that mimics sleep. * Trufflefolk land speed is 20 feet. * Low-Light Vision: A trufflefolk can see twice as far as a human in starlight, moonlight, torchlight, and similar conditions of poor illumination. * Color-Blind (Ex): Trufflefolk are immune to spells that deal specifically with color, such as Color Spray, though those that do damage, such as Prismatic Spray, still effect them. They also take a -4 racial penalty to search checks. * Absorb Nutrients (Ex): Trufflefolk don't have to eat more than once a week, though they require twice as much water per day as a normal human. They can absorb water, as well as any organic source, right through their porous skin, no matter the quality. * Blooming Dirge (Ex): Trufflefolk gain a +4 bonus to Charisma-based checks with fey. As well, once per year when they bloom they will instinctively infect them. They produce an invisible cloud of spores that extends 5 feet per hit die of the trufflefolk at a rate of 5 feet per round. All creatures with the fey type must make a Fortitude save (DC 10 + half Trufflefolk HD + Con mod) or become infected. They must make the save each day or take 1 point of Wisdom drain. Each day of infection the DC increases by 1. When they reach 0 Wisdom the fungus blooms from their head and quickly spreads, immediately killing the fey. Trufflefolk do not have any control over this function. * Living Telepathy (Ex): Trufflefolk can use telepathy with a willing creature it touches. The sensation is thoroughly unpleasant, feeling like tendrils slowly creeping over the brain. Any creature concentrating on a spell or power must make a DC 20 concentration check or lose concentration. * Hibernate (Ex): A Trufflefolk that would die from cold exposure instead goes into a state of suspended animation. He may stay in this condition for a number of months equal to his Constitution score. After that he begins to suffer from starvation and thirst, though each month without counts as a day. If in direct contact with an organic source or water/ice he may slowly absorb enough to keep from having to make saves.
* Languages: Tulgey and Sylvan. Bonus Languages - Common, Myconid, Treant
* Favored Class: Druid
* Level Adjustment: +0
-=-
Wild Children (any)
Spoiler
Wild Children are always fascinating people whom do well in the constant wet coldness of the world. They see the clouds, mountains, rivers and snow as purest beauty, for most come from unions with water and cold dwelling fey.
Human wild children most often come from Dryads, Oreads, Rusalka, Selkie, Vodayanoi, and Yuki-on-na's. Dryad, Oread and Selkie relationships are usually short term, though those with Vodayanoi and Yuki-on-nas are often life long. Vodayanoi offspring come only from rape and their offspring are shunned, as they are hideously ugly and foul tempered.
Dwarven wild children are rare, but they are not immune to the voice of an oread or crystal woman (a fey of underground lakes and waterfalls). Offspring of the later tend to shun the surface.
Wild Children are similar to Feytouched (Fiend Folio, p. 71), though use the statistics below instead.
+2 Dex, -2 Con, +2 Cha
* Charm Person: Once per day a wild child may use Charm as the spell. Caster level equals HD, save DC 10 + Cha mod. * Fey Spirit: Wild Children gain a +2 bonus to saves against fear and mind-affecting effects produced by a creature without the fey type. * Descendant of the Elements: A wild child whose fey ancestor possessed immunity to cold or fire is considered to be under the effects of Endure Elements in regards to either chill or heat, depending on the origin.
Otherwise wild children gain a +4 bonus to Fortitude saves in regards to extreme climate. * Level Adjustment: +0
Last edited by The Vorpal Tribble : 01-26-2011 at 02:58 PM.
There are many famous people in the history of Hearth, and many still stand today. Each of them has their history, their triumphs, their claim to fame. Some information is known to many, while others have their deep secrets.
Emperor Laffin
Spoiler
With the fall of the comet, and the cold invading the lands, a great migration began, taking hundreds of years to search for the warmer lands. Scouts from one of the largest group of wanderers followed a river one day and came to the edge of wondrous waterfalls and their eyes widened with wonder. Before them was a valley that spread out for as far as the eye could see, and green, a green of verdant profusion such as only the old tales told. Meandering through the valley was the river after tumbling hundreds of feet. Before it reached bottom it joined with two other rivers halfway down to form a single massive cloud of turbulent froth.
And so they reported back. It took several days for a path to be found to the valley, but once down, there was room enough for all to have their space. Over the course of weeks rumors were heard of a strange being that walked in the evening mists that formed over the camp. A man, some said, with long white hair, and dressed in such finery as had never been seen before, but one of a thin frame that would leave him dying in a colder area. Many believed it a ghost of some sort and here and there men would disappear in the fog and never return.
Upon setting the first boat upon the river the mystery was solved however. A form surfaced from below the water, and with a raising of his hands a great wave rose, hurling the craft to pieces upon the shore.
"You have asked no permission, and garnered no admiration or thanks from me." the being said, and its icy blue eyes glistened with anger. "You cross my waters and your men draw their weapons upon me as I walk peacefully about you. None shall sail it now, or ever."
There was a great uproar over the presence of the Fossergrim, and several of the leaders of the band were called to the waters. There they nearly came to blows with the being as the argument grew heated. However, the fey knew that he would not be able to defeat such a multitude and an idea came to him that brought a private smile.
A deal was struck thusly. He would allow them to use his river and surrounding lands, but on one condition... his son would rule them for life. With great reluctance they agreed, fearing the power he could wield against them if they did not. But they made a condition as well, humans would raise the boy, though he could visit his sire whenever wished.
The difficulty now was to find one who would agree to such a coupling. Despite his gaunt build the Fossergrim was exceedingly comely, and as he strolled through the camp many a woman looked up to catch his eye. He showed no interest however, and many began to believe he was merely playing an elaborate game as the spirits of the world were wont.
This changed three weeks later however as a young woman vowing never to marry the man her father had chosen threw herself off the top of the waterfall. The fey, watching the whole episode caught her halfway down, and swam gently down the falls with her in his arms. She, shaking with fear and cold, was taken by he to his grotto behind the falls and there he calmed her and listened to her tales. He returned her later that day to the surprise and thanks of her family who had thought her dashed on the rocks below somewhere.
He came up several days later, inquiring of her state of health. He continued to visit, and a genuine friendship built up between the two. Though she was wary of marriage to any, he woo'd her and subtly courted her. She found to her surprise that she has fallen in love with the strange being and she found he felt the same way. This romance became an epic tale that was to be told for centuries to come, and many a poem came of it. Her parents and chosen husband were wrathful upon finding out to the point he was forced to steal her away once more. They were wed and soon bore a healthy son.
The fey taught the son much in the ways of nature and the waters of the world while his mother, revered amongst the people of Gelid Falls, taught him the ways of his people and history and tradition.
In the meantime however, the man she had been betrothed to had never forgiven the fossergrim, and had been sceming for quite some time. He gained a large following of folk who were not content to be told how to use the waters by this being and they waited for one of the rare visits the fey made from his protective home to see his wife and son.
The fey was not taken completely by surprise, wary to this kind of trickery, but though he put up a fight that cost the lives of many, he was outnumbered.
Mother and son were grief stricken, but more than ever she was determined to see that her son become a fair and benevolent leader. And so the months and passed, and the boy, named Laffin, began to feel a great homesickness for the falls and took his father's place as its protector and guardian. The decades past and to the astonishment of all, he never aged, for the blood of the fossergrimm was strong in him. He made friendly contact with the dwarves of the mountains halls above and below the valley who helped design the city and roads. He allowed the use of the river for boating, but was quick to punish those he defiled it in any way.
His palace was built by the finest of dwarven artisans, and farmland plowed in the hilly land past Lake Soothing and the people of many races flourished and multiplied.
Orcs of the harsh southern artics however found out about this great land and were only narrowly defeated. Thus was born the Fell Fallman, the personal army and bodyguards of the Emperor. When next the orcs attacked they were pushed back all the way to the frosts beyond the human lands, which at this point had spread to much of the equator and beyond. They continued to poke and prod at the lands however, but with the organization of the Blue Phoenices, even these small raids were rarely wholly successful.
Laffin's empire has many enemies, but so far it has remained undefeated, even when a Hoary Hunter challenged the emperor himself. For the Unseelie Court did not hold with how Laffin allowed his land to be used by the vermin that was humanity. They sent forth one of their might warriors to challenge the emperor, a hoary hunter of great renown. The Emperor was challenged to a duel, but would not except until the hunter began to fetch and imprison the people of Gelid Falls that winter. Left with no choice Laffin and those loyal to him defeated the hunter. Every winter for five years he returned, each time with greater forces, but the emperor in his element was a force that few could approach. After the defeat of the fifth year however the Hunter bowed to his adversary and was not seen again.
The Court of Faerie let him be, and it was shortly afterward that the domovoi, keepers of the hearths, began to appear, a gift to the Emperor.
For three thousand years now Laffin has ruled over his people, and every century or two takes a new wife who has given him hundreds of sons. Serving him until they have proven themselves loyal to the empire, he then releases them to find their own fall, many starting yet another town or city. Through them he receives word of how the world goes for despite his power, he must remain forever tied to his falls, but he is content, and his people thrive.
Harkatottom
Spoiler
Harkatottom
Demi-God (Chaotic Good)
Harkatottom, most revered of the Ancestors of the Spirit World, is a fierce opposer of tyrrany and sadism. He was once a great and wise shaman of the half-orc people, leading them away from the blood-thirsty raging and hopelessness that dwelt within them. He showed them the life of freedom of spirit and body that would allow them to lead joyous lives. Living life to its fullest and competing with death not viciously but as a friendly, albeit agressive, competition. He spent much of his life delivering half-orcs from slavery and cruelty from both orc and human.
It is said that a great spirit, an ancient ancestor in roc form, came down from above and carried him bodily to the Spirit World within his 87th year, where he attained the rank of a deity.
Harkatottom appears as an ancient strapping half-orc with wind-whipped, pure white hair hanging wild and uncombed down to his back. Within a braided strand of hair is a giant feather several feet long. He is possessed of many scars and deep wrinkles showing rigorous venerability.
Harkatottom's favorite weapon is the iuak.
Portfolio: Blood, Freedom, Half-orcs, High Spirits, Song
Domains: Good, Liberation, Luck, Sap, Strength
Cleric Training: Clerics of Harkatottom normally go on vision quests to prove themselves worthy. This may take them down raging rapids and waterfalls, or to distant mountain peaks. While on this journey they do not eat but spend every waking moment singing and chanting as they push their body to the limits, and stretch their luck time and time again. Only those who experience a vision leading them to serve Harkatottom come to be priests. If hunger seriously weakens them they will take of their stored rations and return without answer.
Quests: Followers of Harkatottom often set out to try to bring full-blooded orcs from their blood-thirsty ways and enlighten them with the joys of living, not killing. They also seek to free slaves and release hostages and non-criminals held against their will.
Prayers: Prayers to Harkatottom usually consists of melodius chants, favorably in conjunction with percussion instruments or dance.
Temples: Harkatottom disdains structures, saying one should be free to the open air. His worship generally takes place around roaring fires, preferably within areas of untamed wilderness.
Rites: Wild, joyous celebrations of life where song, dance and instrument playing take the place of ceremonies for the those of Harkatottom. Ritual, decorative scarring is normally given to male followers as they come into adulthood, though is not as common amongst females.
Relics:Feather of Biting Wind, Kayak of the Soaring Spirit
Herald and Allies: A roc paragon is Harkatottom's favorite herald. His planar allies are leskylors, moon dogs, and behemoth eagles.
-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-
Sap Domain Spells
Granted Powers: You can control the flow of vital fluids in your body and do not suffer from any kind of blood-loss (this includes damage from wounding weapons and vampirical bites). This granted power is a supernatural ability.
Bloodlink
Necromancy
Level: Sap 4
Components: M, S
Casting Time: 1 minute
Range: See text
Target or Area: See text
Duration: 1 year per level
Saving Throw: None
Spell Resistance: No
You forge a blood link with a willing target. You continuously share vague emotions and always know when the other is in danger or being harmed. With a DC 20 concentration check you may even determine the general direction in which your blood brother can be found, and if he is near (within 10 miles), far (11-100 miles), very far (101-1000 miles), or extremely far (1,000+ miles) away. For every cleric level one point of constitution can be given up to boost your blood brother's. You can retake these points at any time, but never more than that which was given. If a blood brother dies while possessing bonus constitution, the constitution is lost.
Once the link is formed, it works over any distance (although not from one plane to another). An individual blood brother may only be linked to up to five others.
Component: The blood of another mingled with your own. Normally a cut is made into the wrist of each whom wishes to be linked and then pressed together, allowing the blood of all to mix. Within a minute the blood is reabsorbed by all and the wound closes.
XP Cost: 100 XP per link.
-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-
Kayak of the Soaring Spirit
This raft was built by the hands of Harkatottom himself and carved with the scenes of his dancing people. Then with the power of the land he turned the wood to iron. He was told it would never float but he merely laughed and climbed in. He then asked for volunteers to take him to the rapids, nearby the falls. It took six strong men to lift him and carry him, but as they set the craft within the water it floated, and no water was misplaced. Looking them in the eye he put a hand to his chest and told them that the lightness in his heart and the freedom of his spirit gave him lift. He then brought out his paddles and started powerfully pushing himself forward. All those watching bellowed for him to stop, but he waved them off and as all wailed he approached the edge. He went over... and floated. He let out a cry and lifted his fist, and the kayak sailed into the air and circled his astonished people.
"All you need is a soaring spirit!" he crowed and sailed up higher and higher...
From this time forward the craft never dropped, never touched the ground, and only brushing the surface of water. After his taking into the Spirit World however, they wondered what would be done with the wondrous kayak. A great-great grand nephew, one of barely twelve years begged permission to try the craft. As he was a particular favorite of Harkatottom he was allowed to board it. Though resting at the edge of a ravine the young boy ran for it and without hesitation, leaped, and landed inside. The craft took his wait and a stiff breeze lifted it up and he sped about for several minutes.
When he came back to the place and leaped out he was filled with elation. That is until another lad several years his elder and known for his bullying ways pushed him to the side. He carefully reached out to grasp the edge over the ravine and pulled himself in. The craft then fell like a stone, the cries of the bully echoing the length of his fall. Far down he landed with a great splash within the river below and the kayak sunk. Several moments later it resurfaced and the bully was nowhere to be seen. The craft continued down the river and out of sight.
It is now said that any whom may come across the craft must have a soaring spirit and a light heart or he will fall or sink. If he is light though the winds will obey the one within the craft and take the kayak where it is willed.
Anyone with a chaotic good alignment can sit within the kayak without it sinking or dropping, but cannot fly within it.
To use this relic, you must worship Harkatottom and either sacrifice a 8th level divine spell slot ot have the True Believer feat and at least 15 HD.
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Feather of Biting Wind
The feather of biting wind is said to be a flight feather of a giant eagle that was always braided within Harkatottom's hair. While being taken up to the Spirit World the wind of the flight loosened his braid and it floated down. The feather seems to have a slight glow to it and its edge is sharp, though far too flimsy to be usable as a weapon.
Those whom wear it freely upon their person gain immunity to fear and despair and a +2 morale bonus on all saves.
Once per day if the feather is waved at an opponent within sight that you roughly know the position of it produces a sudden gust of wind that can circle around other foes, allies and obstacles without harming them, striking unerringly for the victim. The victim is suddenly bombarded with wind for 4 rounds as if caught in a windstorm (DMG page 95). Every round while within the wind the victim takes 4d6 slashing damage.
To use this relic, you must worship Harkatottom and either sacrifice a 6th-level divine spell slot or have the True Believer feat and at least 11 HD.
Mahogany of the Many Trails
Spoiler
A scream came from a nearby cottage. Arlus's mother quickly pulled the blanket over the window and dashed to take a pitcher from the table. Her hands trembled as she doused the dying embers in the hearth. She grabbed him by the arm and half pulled him over.
"Arlus," she started with a quavering voice, "You must be hidden. Lets cover yourself in the ashes. No, just DO IT!." she implored frantically.
She wrapped him in a cloak and held him tight a moment before using her bare hands to sweep a section of the deep char to the side. He rubbed the soot over his face and throat as she piled the soot about him, and drew his head back within the hood as she sprinkled the last bit. She quickly wiped clean her hands with an old rag. The door was then shoved open and tall men entered, their skin stained with filth and blood. One grinned, showing yellowed teeth and stepped towards her. She backed away to the table and as he advanced she reached aroubd and grabbed the earthen pitcher. He raised it up swiftly and slammed it over his head. He staggered a moment as two more leaped forward to grab her. A hand to a bleeding cut on his forehead the wounded barbarian made a swift movement and she crumpled. Arlus gasped unthinkingly and drew in a lungful of ash.
The bleeding man quickly jerked his head to the hearth as a wheezing sound was accompanied by a billow of soot. The man reached down and drew a dagger from the still form at his feet and stalked towards Arlus with a sadistic grin. Arlus saw his reflection in the blade for a brief moment as the point came to his eye...
"Arlus... ARLUS!" a voice came to him. His eyes opened but he could see little for the tears streaming down his face. "Arlus, its alright, its alright. Wake up, heed me little one." A bit of cloth was wiped across his face and he blinked up to see his mother's worried face. He realized then that he was still screaming and stopped, taking quick, frantic breaths.
"MAMA!" he whispered loudly, and wrapped his small arms around her, shuddering violently.
She rubbed his shoulders and murmered to him until he calmed before asking him what had so frightened him. He began to tell her when a thought occured to him.
"Mama, we must go, now!" he insisted, sliding out of her lap and pulling at her hand.
"Arlus it was only a dream, you..."
"NO! WE MUST! Mama, we MUST!"
She looked down into his red eyes and smiled. It would help him to forget afterall. "Alright." she proclaimed. "How about we go pick some berries for breakfast."
He quickly nodded and hobbled out the door, limping on his clubbed foot. Twitching in a fearful way he breathed a sigh of relief when she finally came out with the basket. He tugged and scolded her at her slowness until they were out of the village and down into the valleys between the hills. A dense blackberry thicket was giving up the last of its fruit for the year, and... a long scream echoed from the distance.
"Arlus, stay HERE!" she said strictly and hiking up her skirts jogged up the side of the hill. A hand went to her mouth at the sight of a hoarde of barely clothed men in skins bareling into cottages and dragging out bodies. She half slid, half ran down the hill.
"We must fly, little one!" she exclaimed and picking him up in her arms, shielding him from the thorns of the bushes as she shoved her way through. She hurried past scavenged fields and burning farms for some time before she set Arlus down and lie in the grass, breathing hard.
It would be several months before they stopped fleeing, as the barbarians made raid after raid. They finally stopped as they reached a rural town of many huts sprawled out amongst the nearby mountain ranges. Here Arlus and his mother spent the next twenty years of their life. With his club foot none were willing to take him as an apprentice, and so he and his mother made do with him earning an odd copper here or there for him carting manure, keeping goats, along with repairing boots and the occassional bit of leather. It was their twenty-first winter there his mother passed away from pneumonia. She smiled and reached up and ruffled his red hair. With a rattling breath she said, "Goodbye, my mahogany haired lad." and though her lungs rose and struggled, another breath did not follow.
Having come from nothing, and dying with nothing, her death was of little interest to any but Arlus. By himself he carted her body to a small plateau where she and him had so long ago picked wildflowers. He covered her over with stones, and sat beside it as the sun slowly disapeared below the peaks.
He lied a hand atop the stone pile and bowed his head. He then recovered his meager sack and started down the hill. A sad smile came to him as he thought, 'Lets see whats over there...'
"MAHOGANY! Mahogany is coming!" the children called as he leaned against his walking stick and grinned. Mothers stood impartially inside doorways, watching with a hint of disaproval, but also curiosity. Bards and travelers alike were ofton hounded by the townspeople, hungry for news or song, but Mahogany was different. The old vagabond always had too much... or, well, he shouldn't know about... decent people were never known to go into those reaches, but... it was difficult for others to explain their feelings. Many only remembered him from their own childhood, a fleeting memory of his tales, a line from an odd song whistled. However, the man was completely harmless, this was apparent. The children loved him and they slept soundly nights when he was about, dreaming the night long of the places he had visited, the people he had met, which was an inexhaustible list to say the least. Beside the children, map makers and the occassional learned one was known to take him to the side and question him on details of this and that region. Then, once dusk came, and the men returned from the fields, there would always be something needing repaired, or a need of aid here, something that would gain him something hot from a pot. A loaf of bread here, some stew there, or even a new vest maphap, and then he would be on his way again, not to be seen again for years, if ever.
Thieves, highwaymen, or even the casual pick pocket; none of this type had ever seen him. The inside of his sack and pockets were a mystery to all. By chance he simply managed to show when they were preoccupied elsewhere. Eventually many ceased to care, though a curiosity of that sort was not so easily put aside.
--
Arlus smiled and waved to the small number of children who had awoken to see him off, many having slipped out of windows and stood barefoot on the chilly streets.
His heart always soared to see their honest, uncomplicated faces. Their insatiable curiosity, so much like his, waiting to be filled with ideas and stories. Despite this he felt relief as he nodded to a passing night watchmen wearily plodding home. No town or city was... large enough. Even the most sprawling metropolis was cramped and narrow compared to the vast plains and hills. Freedom and never ending discoverings were to be found out here. Months, and even years could go by before he stumbled across the next village, his time filled with thinking and pondering over existence. Wondering what might be over the next mile, the next hill, over the horizon till it met with the sea. Dark places of reported evil he passed by unscathed, and areas reported to be filled with lurking beasts and demons he traveled through without difficulty. Kingdoms and villages, and caverns and beaches and fields that were told in no story he had ever heard he saw, and such was his life. Contentment was to be found out upon svelt and wood. Many times he had even led warriors and historians and many others to places, guiding them through its long-familiar hazards and returning them safely to be given rewards of gold he gave to others. Such joy it was as they discovered new things and secrets revealed, this was his reward. A universe of surprises was the one thing he wished, if anyone had asked.
Nearing his seventieth year he pondered the direction of a split in the road to a place yet untrod by his feet. One did not appeal to him while the other... he had an inexplicable feeling that he might be needed, and that it would lead to that path. Such feelings were so much reflex to him. He had long since ceased to notice that his instincts were so invariably correct. He was old, and had seen many things. Let his feet take him where they would lead, all paths were one to him...
Salkin Motard
Spoiler
Salkin Motard has a nigh tangible presence about him. Standing several inches above six foot he does not seem but average height until approached. He would be somewhat lean if not for a powerful physique that nearly approaches the burly. His features are comely enough, with a slight ruggedness to them, further enhanced by his thick but closely trimmed beard and straight black hair that has been trimmed just above his neckline. The eyes that peer out are a warm blue, mild but attentive, and with an unmistakable light of intelligence. His long-fingered hands are calloused, showing he is a man whose not afraid of work.
He is dressed in clothes picked more for comfort than style, a baggy-sleeved shirt and fur pants tucked into worn calf-high boots that were once probably expensive. Despite his attire he holds himself nobly, with a calm confidence and not a little alertness. A court-sword, thicker than a rapier but slimmer than an estoc, rests within a scabbard at his waist.
Three generations ago, Salkin Motard's great-grandfather made a strange find as he was going through notes of frostwine production. Though there were normal variations, his yield seemed to be slowly but consistently improving. Thinking little of it, he merely praised the workers. His son, Salkin's grandfather, however, noticed as he grew older how the weather seemed to be cooler than he ever remembered it. He thought perhaps it was the age in his bones, but in preparation of handing the responsibility to his son in turn, he had him record the temperatures and the productivity of the harvests. Over the next several decades Salkin's father discovered something few had realized and his father had only suspected; the weather was indeed growing, slowly, but steadily, colder. Salkin's father brought this to the Council of the southern land's attention, but though he had recorded proof and had the quality of his frostwine to attest to the increasing chill, a number met him with scorn. Together they convinced the rest of the council to ignore his dire words. It was soon afterward that young Salkin faced an act that he was to remember for the rest of his days and that would drive him to uncover a secret few suspected existed.
He awoke to the sound of great struggle and ran to his parent's bedroom. There he saw his mother lying on the floor, bleeding from innumerable lacerations. Across the room was his father battling with... himself. For another figure indistinguishable from his father battled. Both possessed identical swords, and with almost equal finesse they fought. However, with a skillful slash one tore into the arm of the other, but instead of blood welling out, a reflective substance like quicksilver began to flow. The impostor reacted with fury and after a quick feint grabbed the senior Motard by the back of his neck and pulled him onto its sword. True, crimson blood poured down, and Salkin froze momentarily in fury. He ran back for his bedroom and retrieved the slim sword his father had had him practice with since he could wield it. He then snuck back for his parent's suite. He glanced cautiously within to see the figure had grabbed up his father and was dragging him towards the mirror. Salkin used tip of of one foot to remove a shoe, and then flipped it down the hallway. It was not a loud noise, but enough to alert the being within. It dropped the body and slunk towards the doorway. As it looked out down the other side of the hall Salkin made his move. Without a qualm about running through this masquerader with his father's skin he leapt forward and despite his youth, severed its left arm. The creature let out a sound so high pitched that it was all Salkin could do not to clap his hands over his ears to still the pain. It was like a blade down screaming glass. The creature looked at him and then down at the twitching arm on the ground and turned with alarming quickness. Salkin only had time to turn into the doorway by the time the creature had crossed the room. To his astonishment it took a flying leap and was silently engulfed by the mirror which momentarily rippled like water.
He then looked down at the arm lying the puddling silver and saw that sleeve and flesh had disappeared to be replaced with a limb seemingly comprised of flawless glass. A cough however caused everything to flee from his mind and he was running to his father's side. At the knife's edge of death his father whisper as Salkin knelt, "Journal behind... headboard..." and then there was only the rattle of lungs that would not draw another breath.
Looking over the stiffening bodies of his parents Salkin let out a cry of anguish and hurled his sword against the full-length mirror, shattering it into a thousand pieces.
The murders of Lord and Lady Motard shocked the people of Chaunelfiel and mourning lasted long after they had been buried. It was with a heavy heart that the tutors of young Salkin continued their teachings, putting him through more strenuous lessons than before, for though Chaunelfiel could manage well enough, every generation had welcomed the rule of the Motards. Salkin rose to the challenge and with a quiet fierceness that startled his teachers he tackled all things put before him. For though barely into adolescence, he understood the gravity of what was within his father's journals. It was growing colder and there was obviously forces that wished to keep unknown this knowledge.
Within the journals were some eighty years of recordings of the temperatures, acquired from many sources. As well, entire areas once warmed by hot springs and warm lakes had later been found completely iced over. Stories abounded of strange doings within the deep frostfell, tales that were becoming more common place every day. But what truly chilled him were his father's notes on the council members who had been so vehement against these records. Through subtle questioning and bribed servants he had found that all of these men had changed drastically to the point many had become estranged from their wives and alienated their children. In fact, there were hints that they were involved in many dark activities, from rumor spreading to assassination.
'And', Salkin thought to himself, 'Father had been on the council and would have been replaced with one of these mirror beings...'
A plan formulated in his mind, one that would take great patience and thought. He could not simply send out a team to investigate the south. He would need funds, great funds, for he could not alert his enemies to his plans. He let it be rumored about that the death of his parents had done odd things to his mind, and when he gave the order that mirror were to be outlawed within Chaunelfiel many felt vindicated. However, most of the peoples of Chaunelfiel respected and loved the Motard family and obeyed this ruling. The beginnings of eccentricity was thus sewn, a cover for his actions that would mislead his enemies from his true motives.
For the next couple decades he used his collected family wealth to found new towns and villages, leaving trusted comrades to rule them in his stead. At first this drained his coffers severely, but as he had planned the taxes payed by his citizens after crops were harvested and trade routes established replaced what he had lost and then some. He became friends with the dwarves, and humans from far-away lands alike, buying and selling. He soon became one of the wealthiest men of the human lands in this area of the world.
If one though were to mark on a map his progress however, one would see how he made his way farther and father south. Sometimes building an area here, establishing an outpost there, but always on a southern heading. Finally, at the start of the southern wastes, he announced he would celebrate his latest achievement, the completion of the Pass, with a great sled race.
---
"His Graciousness, Salkin Motard, Lord of Chaunelfiel, Master of the Vine, throws out a challenge upon the winds that all ear shall hear it, and all souls be ruffled. In his great vision of expanding our lands and filling it with the sturdiest of souls, a Pass has been opened to the southern lands of the frost so that all that brave its chill might find succor and warmth.
He announces with this that he will expand no more and retire from his Great Expansion. None must think though that his inner fire has been quenched, and the spice of adventure has become tasteless in his mouth. No! For he invites all to his newest establishment to partake on a grand race into the frigid wastes so that he may know whose blood runs hottest in the lands. The winners of this quest, and his companions, are assured a spot of eminence amongst this kindest of Lords. Even the latest of finishers will not find themselves unrewarded. So come, show your mettle, and embrace this rare chance. You can be certain the skalds shall weave your perilous journey into a tapestry that all shall hang in their hearts for generation to come. We await you!"
Such are the words read across the Empire that hung from parchment and vellum from wall and post, or exchanged from hand to hand. Only the hardiest folk he knew would be willing to enter the race, for it was a lengthy journey and a testimony to the constitution of the contestants if they could even reach the Pass.
And so all have gathered here to begin this race, to venture into the frozen wastes, each team lead by a loyal follower of Motard who would seek out answers in the frostfell.
Warlord Teh
Spoiler
A figure rose out of the nearby snow and glanced about. A pounding sleet stung the exposed face, the only skin exposed to a chill that gnawed with a hungered intensity. Though dark as only a moonless night beneath thick clouds could be, the figure surveyed the surrounding area with piercing scrutiny. All around the figure lay dozens of bodies, the slush of frozen blood spotting their forms.
The figure bared fangs and the jaw muscles strained to keep in the rage that threatened to bleed from between the chapped lips. It reached down and retrieved a huge spear with a head carved of bone. As it straightened up however a grunt escaped its lips and a hand went to its swollen belly. She clenched her jaw and squared her shoulders proudly, refusing to give in to even the weakness that her child-to-be imposed upon her already weakened stamina.
For four days she hiked without food or sleep, fleeing the nearby human lands and the noses of their hounds as fast as she could manage. Pangs of the approaching birth filled her with agony, but she resolutely refused by sheer will to allow her child to be born where it would surely die. As the horizon darkened on that fourth evening she stumbled from weariness and fell into a stupor.
"AAAAGH!" she roared as brutal pain jolted her awake. Her eyes flying open and rolling to her feet in a single motion. Before her hulked a massive beast of fur and muscle. An overwhelming stench emanated from its form and fresh blood dribbled down its jaw. Momentarily glancing to her left arm she saw a great amount of flesh had been torn away clear to the bone. The rumble sounded in the beast's chest and its nostrils flared, taking in her scent. It lunged forward but she through herself to the side and fell the stiffness of the spear beneath her. Clutching it with her good hand she circled around the brute. She knew that the chances of defeating such a creature was slim, for even the wolverine of minimal stature commanded respect. The horror before her however was of the deep frosts, and it commanded anything it wished.
Taking a moment to sniff the air and locate its former prey in the lightless murk, it found the scent and turned. Allowing it to approach, she awaited an opening. As its maw parted she hurled the spear forward, but instead of piercing the roof of its mouth it sunk into gums. A canine longer than her hand splintered off at the root and disappeared down its gullet as it inhaled in the sudden pain. However, the expected roar never came, replaced with a rasping cough deep with its chest. It arched its back and thew its head from side to side, but breath refused to come. Take advantage of this, the soon-to-be mother pulled the spear out with a spew of froth. It fell to one knee with wretched hacking and so she clambered up atop its lowered back. She stood a moment in triumph and then drove the spear deep into its back. She went along the ridge, piercing its spine along the full length. As it lost control of its muscles the beast began to twitch violently and she had to leap clear as it fall to its side. Finally its chest rattled and the upwards staring eye glazed over. Its paws continued to jerk, but she knew the beast was dead.
Despite the cold a sweat had formed on her brow, and as the wind blew she realized just how close to death she was herself. As she looked upon her kill a thought came into her mind, "A warm place... for a cold night."
Retrieving the spear once more, she approached its belly and drove in its head. With its ragged edge she sawed open the beast's bowels, releasing a great torrent of ichor and organs. Without a moment's thought she grabbed at the steaming entrails and fed. When she could hold no more she scraped clean its body cavity and bundled within.
The squeal of a newborn was heard that night, and those with clear hearing might also have noticed how when it met with the howling wind it seemed to combine to form the roar of the once live beast.
There was great surprise when she approached the edge of a city of tents, holding a large bundle of fur. The massacre weeks before was well known, and all were killed or captured by the worm-crapping human soldiers. Respect turned to great admiration as the woman told her story. None doubted her tale, and the chief of the great orc tribe of the southern frosts we entranced by her resilience. He took her as his head wife, and the babe was raised as his own.
Teh he was called, and he grew quickly, which was well, for such a terror few orcs had encountered in one so young. Within but a few months all teeth had grown and he bit and howled whenever he didn't roll about in a sleep that would be disturbed by a mere breath of wind. By the age of one he was quick on his feet and would chase other children with whatever hard object he could get his little hands on. It was after a fit of rage in his third year that he killed the chief's son who was three years Teh's elder. Found smashing the head of the already dead body repeatedly into the ground, it took two grown guards to forcefully pry him off.
The chief was greatly angered, but he saw that one with such a spirit would be of great aid to him and though younger by far than any normally trained, he was allowed to join early the training groups taught by battle-hardened veterans. He learned with a will that was near frightening to see, but it was soon apparent that the child was possessed of something. Mercy, even in practise spats was foreign to him, and once he was locked in combat, he could not stop. Every training exercise, every spar was to the death unless the combatants were forcefully seperated. He was threatened and then punished, but as all this did was fuel whatever inner demons writhed within and in whatever way he could, he had his revenge.
As he went from boy to man he and his brethren were sent out into the wilds to test their worthiness to become full warriors. Only Teh returned. He simply ignored all questions until his his adopted sire called him forth. With a tone of near bragging he eventually told of his exploits in the mountains, and how one by one he hunted down the others and fed upon them to strength himself. In a great fury over the loss of a whole troop of potential warriors the chief commanded him to be put to death. Teh threw back his head in a laugh and hair sprouted all over his body as he grew large enough for the tent to be lifted from the ground. Within moments a horrible creature stood before the chief and his guards. He howled as he dispatched the bodyguards and with a disdaining gesture crushed in the chest of the chief himself. Teh's mother approached and grinned fiercely and lifted her fist to her son.
"OUR LORD!" she shouted, and as she repeated these words nearby orcs joined in the call until the entire village echoed with it.
During the ceremony his mother presented him with a gift. A great bow, fashioned of the very bones and preserved tendons of the great dire wolverine that she had brought down so long ago. Along with this came a quiver of arrows, each tipped with the tooth of the great beast. As he took the bow it suddenly began to twist and strange spots speckled over ts surface. Within moments flesh and fur grew thickly over the bones and it became warm to the touch. Beneath his hands he felt a distinct pulse of hot blood flowing through it, matching the rhythm of his own. A horrible smile formed on his face and he bowed his head to his parent.
From that time forward the nearby human lands found it much more difficult to defeat the hordes, and none at all survived that went out to scout for the home of the intruders. Along with gaining the support of other tribes Teh has gained to his side a great number of Shifters, along with a variety of other evil weres who revere him to the point of near godhood. Those who join with the tribe never again leave, for those who attempt it are soon tracked and found, the great howl of Teh the last sound they ever hear.
He amuses himself with these chases and the gathering of his forces until the day he can strike into the capitals of the civilized lands themselves...
Last edited by The Vorpal Tribble : 01-23-2011 at 11:20 AM.
Harkatottom, most revered of the Ancestors of the Spirit World, is a fierce opponent of tyranny and sadism. He was once a great and wise shaman of the half-orc people, leading them away from the blood-thirsty raging and hopelessness that dwelt within them. He showed them the life of freedom of spirit and body that would allow them to lead joyous lives. Living life to its fullest and competing with death not viciously but as a friendly, albeit aggressive, competition. He spent much of his life delivering half-orcs from slavery and cruelty from both orc and human.
It is said that a great spirit, an ancient ancestor in roc form, came down from above and carried him bodily to the Spirit World within his 87th year, where he attained the rank of a deity.
Harkatottom appears as an ancient strapping half-orc with wind-whipped, pure white hair hanging wild and uncombed down to his back. Within a braided strand of hair is a giant feather several feet long. He is possessed of many scars and deep wrinkles showing rigorous venerability.
Harkatottom's favorite weapon is the iuak.
Portfolio: Blood, Freedom, Half-orcs, High Spirits, Song
Domains: Good, Liberation, Luck, Sap, Strength
Cleric Training: Clerics of Harkatottom normally go on vision quests to prove themselves worthy. This may take them down raging rapids and waterfalls, or to distant mountain peaks. While on this journey they do not eat but spend every waking moment singing and chanting as they push their body to the limits, and stretch their luck time and time again. Only those who experience a vision leading them to serve Harkatottom come to be priests. If hunger seriously weakens them they will take of their stored rations and return without answer.
Quests: Followers of Harkatottom often set out to try to bring full-blooded orcs from their blood-thirsty ways and enlighten them with the joys of living, not killing. They also seek to free slaves and release hostages and non-criminals held against their will.
Prayers: Prayers to Harkatottom usually consists of melodious chants, favorably in conjunction with percussion instruments or dance.
Temples: Harkatottom disdains structures, saying one should be free to the open air. His worship generally takes place around roaring fires, preferably within areas of untamed wilderness.
Rites: Wild, joyous celebrations of life where song, dance and instrument playing take the place of ceremonies for the those of Harkatottom. Ritual, decorative scarring is normally given to male followers as they come into adulthood, though is not as common amongst females.
Relics: Feather of Biting Wind, Kayak of the Soaring Spirit
Herald and Allies: A roc paragon is Harkatottom's favorite herald. His planar allies are leskylors, moon dogs, and behemoth eagles.
-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-
Sap Domain Spells Granted Powers: You can control the flow of vital fluids in your body and do not suffer from any kind of blood-loss (this includes damage from wounding weapons and vampirical bites). This granted power is a supernatural ability.
Bloodlink Necromancy Level: Sap 4 Components: M, S Casting Time: 1 minute Range: See text Target or Area: See text Duration: 1 year/level Saving Throw: None Spell Resistance: No
You forge a blood link with a willing target. You continuously share vague emotions and always know when the other is in danger or being harmed. With a DC 20 concentration check you may even determine the general direction in which your blood brother can be found, and if he is near (within 10 miles), far (11-100 miles), very far (101-1000 miles), or extremely far (1,000+ miles) away. For every cleric level one point of constitution can be given up to boost your blood brother's. You can retake these points at any time, but never more than that which was given. If a blood brother dies while possessing bonus constitution, the constitution is lost.
Once the link is formed, it works over any distance (although not from one plane to another). An individual blood brother may only be linked to up to five others.
Component: The blood of another mingled with your own. Normally a cut is made into the wrist of each whom wishes to be linked and then pressed together, allowing the blood of all to mix. Within a minute the blood is reabsorbed by all and the wound closes.
XP Cost: 100 XP per link.
-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-
Kayak of the Soaring Spirit
This raft was built by the hands of Harkatottom himself and carved with the scenes of his dancing people. Then with the power of the land he turned the wood to iron. He was told it would never float but he merely laughed and climbed in. He then asked fo volunteers to take him to the rapids, nearby the falls. It took six strong men to lift him and carry him, but as they layed the craft within the water it floated, and no water was misplaced. Looking them in the eye he put a hand to his chest and told them that the lightness in his heart and the freedom of his spirit gave him lift. He then brought out his paddles and started powerfully pushing himself forward. All those watching bellowed for him to stop, but he waved them off and as all wailed he approached the edge. He went over... and floated. He let out a cry and lifted his fist, and the kayak sailed into the air and circled his astonished people.
"All you need is a soaring spirit!" he crowed and sailed up higher and higher...
From this time forward the craft never dropped, never touched the ground, and only brushing the surface of water. After his taking into the Spirit World however, they wondered what would be done with the wondrous kayak. A great-great grand nephew, one of barely twelve years begged permission to try the craft. As he was a particular favorite of Harkatottom he was allowed to board it. Though resting at the edge of a ravine the young boy ran for it and without hesitation, leaped, and landed inside. The craft took his wait and a stiff breeze lifted it up and he sped about for several minutes.
When he came back to the place and leaped out he was filled with elation. That is until another lad several years his elder and known for his bullying ways pushed him to the side. He carefully reached out to grasp the edge over the ravine and pulled himself in. The craft then fell like a stone, the cries of the bully echoing the length of his fall. Far down he landed with a great splash within the river below and the kayak sunk. Several moments later it resurfaced and the bully was nowhere to be seen. The craft continued down the river and out of sight.
It is now said that any whom may come across the craft must have a soaring spirit and a light heart or he will fall or sink. If he is light though the winds will obey the one within the craft and take the kayak where it is willed.
Anyone with a chaotic good alignment can sit within the kayak without it sinking or dropping, but cannot fly within it.
To use this relic, you must worship Harkatottom and either sacrifice a 8th level divine spell slot ot have the True Believer feat and at least 15 HD.
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Feather of Biting Wind
The feather of biting wind is said to be a flight feather of a giant eagle that was always braided within Harkatottom's hair. While being taken up to the Spirit World the wind of the flight loosened his braid and it floated down. The feather seems to have a slight glow to it and its edge is sharp, though far too flimsy to be usable as a weapon.
Those whom wear it freely upon their person gain immunity to fear and despair and a +2 morale bonus on all saves.
Once per day if the feather is waved at an opponent within sight that you roughly know the position of it produces a sudden gust of wind that can circle around other foes, allies and obstacles without harming them, striking inerringly for the victim. The victim is suddenly bombarded with wind for 4 rounds as if caught in a windstorm (DMG page 95). Every round while within the wind the victim takes 4d6 slashing damage.
To use this relic, you must worship Harkatottom and either sacrifice a 6th-level divine spell slot or have the True Believer feat and at least 11 HD.
Sonlayahonhilaiouyatauya, the Frigid Bitch
(Sone-lay-ah-own-hee-lie-ow-yay-ta-oo-yah) Lesser God (Lawful Evil)
Spoiler
Sonlayahonhilaiouyatauya teaches the way to remove one's self from all emotion, especially the hot-blooded ones, such as love, passion and fury. Only when one sees the world as sharp and clear as the edge of a snowflake can they truly be said to have achieved enlightenment.
This goddess claims to cure pain and suffering through this, for if one cannot feel they can no longer hurt. If you no longer hurt you are truly undefeatable. She lives by this rule, though she is still said to experience a hatred and anger so cold that it can barely be said to be an emotional state at all.
By the time the worshipers of the Frigid Bitch die their souls are colder than ice and harder than diamond. They are the most beautiful of jewels to Sonlayahonhilaiouyatauya, and she literally works them into finery which she wears or displays, keeping her promise to her worshipers that she will give them a place of admiration in the afterlife. Those that look into the gem can see a cold flame flickering, displaying the life of the being from their eyes.
Sonlayahonhilaiouyatauya is beauticious and desirable, even by the standards of the deities, and any and all would have her if they could, but none can spark within her the least desire. She remains aloof and cold to all things, and her only desire seems to be to turn the hearts of all creatures, men, beast and immortal to ice. She normally appears as a woman with a complexion paler than snow, and eyes so blue they glint with purple. Her lips are bloodless and the color of a freezing corpse's. A feathery mist surrounds her shoulders, hiding everything from the bust down. Her head is normally adorned in some fashion, each jewel she wears specially chosen. It may be anything from a fantastic collection of thousands on a necklace, or a single one set into her forehead.
Sonlayahonhilaiouyatauya favorite weapon is the dagger.
Portfolio: Loss, lonliness, the fornlorn, antipathy, ice and jewels
Domains: Cold, Law, Mind
Cleric Training: Clerics of the Frigid Bitch abandon all those they may have loved or had affection for to gain her notice. They meditate each day to rid themselves of all emotions, striving for a pure, logical chillness of spirit.
Quests: Clerics of the Frigid Bitch often will perform atrocities, all completely unemotional, in an attempt to bring others to hurt so badly they will seek peace, even if it means the complete freezing of their selves.
Prayers: None pray to Sonlayahonhilaiouyatauya, for she does not wish or require their affection. She is a forced to be worshiped, and they simply ask her for what is needed, and she gives it if it will further her goals.
Temples: Temples to the Frigid Bitch are merely there to convince others of their dedication to their deity's path. She in no way displays any appreciation for these structures, though secretly admires the gems and blue ice used in their construction, though not the effort.
Rites: Those who finally gain the notice, though never the favor, of the Frigid Bitch must in some way prove their extinguishing of emotions. Something they once held dear, or hated, or was emotionally attached to must be destroyed or ripped away from them in some fashion. Much of the time this is the willing deletion of their memories before they came into her service.
The Gurgling God Greater God (Chaotic Evil)
Spoiler
In the depths of the lowest of the lower planes there are cracks. These tiny fissures continue down, where nothing should be. Reality has ended, the end, no more... yet something bubbles up from below. A horrible voice gulping softly that speaks of things; of all the malice and evil and noxiousness darkness that has trickled down, pooled and eaten away at the deepest foundations. This is where the gurgling god sings.
From few places can be heard the echoes gurgling god. From between the bloated lips of a drowned newborn, the drains of a slaughterhouse, or the waters of a poisoned well on a cloudless night. Such are the keyholes through which he can be listened.
The gurgling god was there at the beginning, and regardless of how the blood wars go or if heaven destroys the hells, it will be there at the end... perhaps even after. He is not even aware that such things exist. It sings to itself as it dreams of unthinkable things, and if others hear it and do these things, then it is well. If all the things that bubble up from its horrible imagination were to happen the structure of all existence would crumble.
It is thought by some that the gurgling god is the equivalent of a deific maggot. Feeding on the filth that even the filthy won't touch and waiting for the death of all things. One day when everything that could possibly ever be has been, when even death has died the gurgling god will slough its skin and emerge to fly in the decaying void.
Many believe it to be an entity that encompasses both that of a deity and the most disquieting of vestige traits. None have ever seen the god, but the mental impression it gives is only that of a wriggling shadow or gulping pool.
As Doende Aske dies, and with it Hearth, so does the nihilists that worship the gurgling god grow stronger.
Domains: Cavern, Corruption, Knowledge, Madness, Vile Darkness
Cleric Training: One cannot train for the following of the gurgling god. Clerics may come from a madman wallowing within the wastes of his cell or a child trapped in a flooded cellar.
Quests: Worshipers of the gurgling god look for lost, horrible places of the world. Tunnels beneath a collapsing home, forgotten crypts, and sewers of ill repute are their favorites, hoping to find something with which to interest the gurgling god or hear his will more clearly.
Prayers: Prayers to the gurgling god are deadly and monstrous deeds. The most common way is to force another to repeat words with his dying breath through a slit throat. Some worshipers gargle tainted waters or curdled blood or willingly allow themselves to gain pneumonia or some other worse disease that fills the throat with death through which to make their entreaties.
Temples: Worshiping places of the gurgling god or the worst of the findings during their quests. Wherever the hint of his song echoes there it is built. Corpses of pregnant women are preferred, preserved in some horrible way. A bowl is placed in their cavities and filled with the liquefied rot of the excavation process. The liquid then quivers, amplifying the dirge.
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The Gurgling God (Vestige)
Vestige Level: 8th
Bind DC: 40
Special Requirements: Yes
Special Requirements: You must be suffering from a disease to summon the Gurgling God. Manifestation: When the Gurgling God begins to manifest, its seal begins to bubble and ooze with black slime, and a truly foul stench arises from the dripping symbol. Several seconds later the seal is completely obstructed by a pool of offal and scum, out of which rises a hideous approximation of a human head, formed from the reeking liquid. It has no eyes or ears, and most of its face is taken up with a dripping mouth, opened endlessly as a guttural voice rises in horrible, gurgling song. Sign: Dark liquid constantly seems from the roots of your teeth, causing your mouth to drip a blackish, caustic liquid. Influence: While influenced by the Gurgling God, you are drawn to filth, refuse, and excrement. You favor these areas over cleaner locals, and would rather sleep in the sewer than in an inn's bedrooms. Additionally, you must willingly fail your saving throws against any effect that would sicken you or cause you to contact a disease.
Granted Abilities: The Gurgling God gives you ooze-like traits, a sickening song, and the powers to spread disease around you. Incomprehensible Form: Your type changes to Ooze. You may compress your body enough to fit through any area a creature up to three size categories smaller than you could fit through. Noxious Murmurs: The tuneless dirge of the Gurgling God slips constantly from your dripping lips, sowing madness and sickness through the world. Each foe within 30 feet of you must make a Fortitude save and a Will save. If they fail the Fortitude save, they are sickened for 2d4 rounds. If they fail the Will save, they are confused for 2d4 rounds. Once a creature has saved against this ability, it is immune to further effects of this ability for 24 hours. Additionally, dying creatures within 30 feet of you automatically fail their stabilization checks, and the DC for Heal checks to stabilize creatures within the area increases by +5. Exhalation of the Gurgling God: Once every 5 rounds you may breath out a cone of terrible toxins. All creatures within a 30ft cone must make a Fortitude for each of the following diseases or else contact it immediately: Blinding Sickness, Cackle Fever, Filth Fever, The Shakes, and Slimy Doom. The save DC is equal to the save DC of your Binder abilities, if this is higher than the DC the illness would normally have. A new save is required every round, instead of every day, as the diseases progress much more rapidly that normal. Once you determine which diseases the victim contacts, a single Fortitude save is used to decide whether or not the diseases are overcome. Uncaring Metabolism: You may consume spoiled food and drink with no adverse effects. You also gain immunity to poison and supernatural diseases.
The Queen Of A Thousand Roots Greater God (True Neutral)
Spoiler
Before the multiverse was formed there was a primordial existence which knew no boundaries named Orsa. There dwelt unimaginable potential, shaped by need and thought. When it reached the complexity needed to become the planes we know today there were scattered spores of that miasmic potential. Like seeds that only open during a forest fire, so these were scattered in the great expansion. They took root did these spores, and they began to search for others. Digging through reality like roots through soil they spread, connecting, touching, spreading over the eons. There became an intelligence to this, not of man or god, but simply of an awareness to rival any deity.
Few know of her existence, and none fully understand it, but many have bowed down to worship it. The Queen of A Thousand Roots. Once you allow her in, to twine herself with your soul, it is nearly impossible to leave.
Of plant and ooze and beginnings she is, her main worshipers being sentient fungus and slime, such as trleetrlaa and deathcap myconids. Aberrations from before the multiverse was made, such as aboleths, occasionally worship her as a power from the past order.
Jublix and Zuggtmoy is thought by some to have spawned from a growth within the lower planes, either taking over primal fiends of great power or adapting to the abyssal nature of their own accord, though none know for certain.
She appears as a great twisting mass that could be tree or fungus, topped with a cap, and branches dangling with amorphous sacks that twitch and heave grotesquely.
The Queen Of A Thousand Root's symbol is a black background with green tendrils snaking through it. Her favorite weapon is the root/tentacle (or whip if the race possesses neither)
Cleric Training: Clerics of the Queen must make a pilgrimage to her invasive form on whatever world or plane they inhabit. Once there she plants a thought in their mind that seems to dig into their psyche and root within their souls. They become the host of her parasitic will, which continues to grow and flourish for the rest of their lives.
Quests: Clerics of the Queen often take the spores or rootlets of her physical growth and attempt to spread them to and fro throughout existence. Once there she slowly connects up with it so as to have eyes in that region. Though they believe she will one day have her roots into every cranny of existence, they wish to quicken her spread where they can.
Prayers: Prayers to the Queen are on the whole unnecessary as she knows what they know and sees what they see to provide for them. She aids as she wishes and doesn't aid if it doesn't seem necessary. As her view of non-plant creatures are skewed, these worshipers are often neglected.
Temples: The worship of the Queen is often conducted within the growths of her transplanted bits, or one the plane of thought where her existence meshes with those of the worshiper.
Last edited by The Vorpal Tribble : 01-23-2011 at 11:18 AM.
Barbarian
Life is hard upon most of the face of Hearth, and it's the tough that survive. The Barbarian way is that of strength, and the rage and brutal training it provides makes it the most common path to take.
Shifters, orcs and humans often resort to barbarity, especially in the Frostfell. Half-orcs are commonly barbarians as well, but they are less led by fury and more that of passion.
Shifter and orc barbarians have recently joined under the banner of Warlord Teh, and it is feared he will someday have the strength to overturn the Empire.
Totem barbarians are frequent amongst shifters, revering the spirit of the creature that fills them.
There are no ape, dragon, or serpent totems. Additional Barbarian Totems
Spoiler
Mammoth Totem
A barbarian dedicated to the mammoth totem does not gain the standard fast movement, uncanny dodge, trap sense, and improved uncanny dodge barbarian class features, and instead gains the following abilities.
* At 1st level, a mammoth-totem barbarian's strength increases by an additional +2 when he rages.
* At 3rd level a mammoth-totem barbarian gains Power Attack as a bonus feat.
* At 5th level a mammoth-totem barbarian gains Improved Overrun as a bonus feat even if he doesn't meet the prerequisites.
Whale Totem
A barbarian dedicated to the whale totem does not gain the standard fast movement, uncanny dodge, trap sense, and improved uncanny dodge barbarian class features, and instead gains the following abilities.
* At 1st level, a whale-totem barbarian gains a swim speed equal to one-half his base land speed (round down to the nearest 5-foot interval). For instance, a human or half-orc whale-totem barbarian has a swim speed of 15 feet, while a dwarf whale-totem barbarian has a swim speed of 10 feet. This stacks with any existing swim speed.
* At 2nd level, a whale-totem barbarian gains a +2 bonus on Perform (sing) checks, and may sing underwater.
* A 3rd level a whale-totem barbarian gains Power Attack as a bonus feat.
* At 5th level, a whale-totem barbarian's swim speed equals his base land speed.
Wolverine Totem:
A barbarian dedicated to the wolverine totem does not gain the standard fast movement, uncanny dodge, trap sense, and improved uncanny dodge barbarian class features, and instead gains the following abilities.
* At 1st level, a wolverine-totem barbarian gains a +2 bonus on Intimidate checks.
* A 3rd level, a wolverine-totem barbarian gains immunity to fear.
* At 5th level and higher, a boar-totem barbarian's rage lasts for 2 rounds longer than normal.
* Whenever a wolverine-totem barbarian at 7th level is subject to a size modifier or special size modifier for an opposed check (such as during grapple checks, bull rush attempts, and trip attempts), the barbarian is treated as one size larger if doing so is advantageous to him. The benefits of this ability stack with the effects of powers, abilities, and spells that change the subjects size category.
Ram Totem
A barbarian dedicated to the ram totem does not gain the standard fast movement, uncanny dodge, trap sense, and improved uncanny dodge barbarian class features, and instead gains the following abilities.
* At 1st level, a ram-totem barbarian gains a climb speed equal to one-half his base land speed (round down to the nearest 5-foot interval). For instance, a human or half-orc ram-totem barbarian has a climb speed of 15 feet, while a dwarf ram-totem barbarian has a climb speed of 10 feet.
* At 2nd level, a ram-totem barbarian takes half damage from falling.
* A 3rd level a ram-totem barbarian gains Improved bullrush as a bonus feat even if he does not meet the prerequisites.
* At 5th level, a ram-totem barbarian's climb speed equals his base land speed.
Bard
Story and song connect all living creatures. It inspires, it teaches, it comforts, and it influences. Those who yield this power builds bridges between others and close distances once thought beyond reach.
In a place as large as Hearth and with towns few and far between, the bard's task of bringing news and battling stagnation of thought and culture is an important one. Only the rangers come close to the distances they travel, and no journey is without peril.
Bards are most common amongst humans, who are the greatest story tellers of the lands and those with the strongest will to bond and build. Half-orcs are also noted musicians, particularly of percussion. The greatest of singers however belong to the Darfellan, though rarely are their melodies appreciated by those earthbound.
Cleric
In a land so cold and life so difficult upon Hearth, faith helps one through the hardships. To know they are being watched and guided and matter aids the burden.
Clerics are those who have given themselves wholly to a spiritual power and through them gain strength and power to forward the plans of their deity. Be they of evil intent or unimaginable love, there are those who will worship.
Nearly all of the races have a large population of those that revere a higher authority. Humans are most commonly drawn to those of goodness and comfort, while orcs and shifters prefer those of strength and ferocity. Dwarves are the exception, being almost without fail rigid agnostics. They know that gods exist and there are great powers beyond, but they feel no urge to give them their hearts and souls. The midgards were cast down for their refusal to pledge allegiance, and so it continues with their descendants. Dwarves become spirits of the earth, and many elementals, fey and undead creatures of stone and ice were once dwarves. Only once the Mountain That Walks comes over them will they be brought to their eternal home, becoming a Midgard themselves.
Druid
Druids are the stewards of Hearth. They above all seek to maintain the natural balance of life, though the ways in which each druid see to this task varies considerably. Because of this druids are rarely trusted until they have proven themselves. Some see only the balance as a whole, the parts matter little, so that the destruction of a town for the good of the area may be an appropriate response. Others revere all life as sacred and worthy of protection, and those of intelligence worthy of the most respect and dignity.
Druids are the most widely spread class upon Hearth, from the impossibly cold poles to the great Ochine ocean they are to be found. They are the guardians of many secrets, and through their powers much of the past has been preserved until the equilibrium of the world can be restored and warmth be balanced with chill.
It was they who performed much of the magic required to bring the heat from below to warm the surface and as such they are hated by some and held in awe by others.
Fighter
Fighters are masters of the extended claw and tooth. They may guard against the hungry beasts and protect the families or be ruthless mercenaries, fighting for whoever has the gold. Regardless of their reasons, they are the weapon wielders, and with the care it takes to maintain them in the conditions of Hearth they almost seem to become one with them.
This bond and the epic nature of Hearth combines to make any fighter a warrior of great renown.
In A Dying Ember, to keep Fighters up with such classes as those from Tome of Battle, their weapons are all considered potential Legacy weapons. The exact nature of the legacy depends on the use the fighter has had for the weapon, with DM approval.
They automatically gain the Least Legacy feat at 5th level, Lesser Legacy at 11th level, and Greater Legacy at 17th level.
Monk
Monks are almost exclusively found within the Tomonyok mountain range where Licc and surrounding settlements are found. Disdaining material wants and attempting to focus on humility and discipline, the ancient ways of the religious sects developed a strengthening of the mind and body that required no weapon. Though these ways were known to all, few knew their lethal potential. The enforcers of the rigid class rules and strict laws prohibiting all but the aristocracy from wielding weapons payed no heed. This fighting style was expanded and thus the way of the empty fist was taught it to any who had the discipline. Those who follow the path to this discipline became known as monks.
Psionicists
Since the beginning of the years of frost human psionicists seemed to spring up overnight upon Hearth. The foremost conclusion is that it was man's way of adapting to the suddenly inhospitable world. Through this control bodies could be adapted to the chill, and even to thrive in the new conditions. Minds could be connected and draw peoples together.
Psionicists in fact are almost exclusively human, the pinnacle of the adaptability that defines the race. Dream dwarves are also well known for their mental prowess, first developing them through extended living amongst deep crystal.
Ranger
Rangers are much respected upon Hearth, with the ability to live off the land and pass through snowfields with no trace. They, like bards, travel too and fro, though are more likely to take up residence in an area than pass frivolously from place to place. They are often the first to give warning of danger and their ability with the bow despite the dark and rain is legendary.
Rogue
With the constant slippery dampness, the all-telling snow and the finger-stiffening cold, it's difficult to be a rogue on Hearth. Actual burglary and house-breaking is rare. Instead, thievery tends towards more refined methods. Instead of lock picking, sneaking and hiding, the Hearth rogue prefers counterfeiting, bluffing and diplomacy. The manipulation of the person and the laws are the standard.
With few large cities, only a few choice places can hide the acts of a rogue. Gelid Falls hosts quite a number, though in Licc it has risen to an art form. Oddly enough it is the dwarves whom are the most common rogues, at least underground. Their stability grants them balance and their prowess with mechanisms and traps is legendary. As such it is they who are often the most sure fingered and stealthy.
Sorcerer
Sorcerers are the most common of the arcane magic users. They have surfaced all the more often since the fall of the comet amongst human. It is speculated this may be because of the great surge of magic that brought the comet, as well as that which saturated the world to bring up the heat from below. Others feel it is a way of adaption.
Sorcerers tend to be at least as respected at wizards, the latter somewhat less so due to their bookish ways. However, all arcane magic is held with some suspicion for their odd requirements and the strange rituals behind them.
Wizard
Wizards are a rarity upon Hearth, where most abilities spring from instinct or as a result of a higher power. Few indeed have both the intelligence and the idle time to learn and pursue the knowledge to become a true wizard when most merely attempt to survive.
As such, wizards are born almost exclusively amongst the nobles and rich amongst humans. Dwarves are the most common wizards, and it is said there is a great hall of mages below that will occasionally take in a human prodigy, provided they are willing to withhold from seeing the sun for many years. In fact, it is the dwarves who developed the runes allowing spells to be written down. Some even say the rule over arcane magic was discovered by the midgard before the world even formed, while they still remained in the upper planes.
Last edited by The Vorpal Tribble : 01-23-2011 at 11:17 AM.
Common Races: 86% glacier dwarf, 10% common dwarf, 3% human (imperical) 1% human (longhouse)/wild children (cold fey-descended)
Chief Location: Azure Floe - The Biting Winds of Hearth are limited almost exclusively to the great sea of blue ice within the northern Everdusk Region. Occasionally the discipline is seen amongst the frozen regions of the Ochine.
Common Races: 75% human (imperial), 12% wild child, 10% glacier dwarf, 1% common dwarf, 1% okilei/cheval, 1% human (poqtian)
Chief Location:The Forgotten South is the most common location to find the discipline of Cold Ken, where ice and snow are eternal and they have privacy for their unique meditations. A number also are found with the Everdusk regions, though are extremely rare. Only while traveling do they pass through the Ring, where their powers are severely weakened.
Common Races: Wild Children 60%, Human 35%, Shifters 3%, Free People 2%
Chief Location: Dark Waltzings are not common anywhere, but are predominantly found within the Red Dew/Longhouse regions where fey are commonly interacted with.
Common Races: 80% Human (imperial), 10% common dwarf, 5% Wild Children (underground fey-descended), 3% Duergar, 1% Goliath, 1% Human (liccan)
Chief Location: This is a widely spread vocation as much of the land is underground or mountainous. There are always a number roaming the Highway, clearing roadblocks and avalanches that have blocked the road. Dwarves look down on their fellows who make use of this discipline, feeling that they should show more respect to their surroundings.
Chief Location: Foregoers roam all of Hearth in the pursuit of their ancestral history. This might take them to ancient locations long hidden by snow or into the depths of the darkest forests and the tents of the most vicious peoples. Only the inner city of Licc are they not to be found, their presence immediately noticeable by the inhabitants.
Common Races: Human (imperial) 68%, Human (longhouse) 25%, Wild Children 5%, 2% Human (Liccan)
Chief Location: Goodwives are rarely found in any one location, but instead travel extensively through all places. They are to be found in every human city settlement, and many other race's. Thus, most commonly they are upon the Emporer's Highway, between stops.
Common Races: Wild Children 60%, Human (longhouse) 40%
Chief Location: The Red Dew forest is where the Golden Orchard was established and remains there. On very rare occasions a small party will be called away to a distance dispute, but it often requires a true threat.
Common Races: Wild Child 45%, Human (imperial) 30%, Trleetrlaa 20%, Shifter 4%, Free People 1%
Chief Location: Lichenfriends are found in the harshest locales of Hearth, often far from any habitable land. The cold of the frostfell, the barren mountaintops, and the blasted, volcanic landscapes from the Great Opening are all their homes.
Common Races: Kenku 60%, Human (longhouse) 20%, Human (imperial) 10%, Human (licc) 5%, Dwarf (duergar) 3%, Dwarf (common) 2%
Chief Location: Monstrumologists tend to be concentrated in areas of particular dangerous location, or those with many strange rumors. The Red Dew Forest attracts an inordinate amount of monstrumologists due to the magical nature of the vast tracts of unexplored forests and the frequent oddities that occur. Within the Empire it is about the Lurkstock Moors that monstrumologists find much to discover. As well as the few settlements that lie near the Tangle. Liccan monstrumologists specialize mainly in possessions, as their long history of spiritual visitations requires.
Common Races: Wild Chilren 40%, Okelei 30%, Human (longhouse) 10%, Human (imperial) 10%, Trleetrlaa 10%
Chief Location: Ohrwurms only concentrate in one location, the Vale of Harmony. Otherwise individuals or the rare small group are driven away or forced into the wilderness.
Common Races: 80% human (imperial), 15% human (longhouse), 2% cheval, 2% wild-children, 1% free people
Chief Location: Storyhosts seem predominantly limited to Gelid Falls, where life is the easiest and boredom is possible. There adventure that awaits them beyond the protecting mountains calls to a fair number who have spent their life reading tales of heroes and villains.
Common Races: Darfellan 30%, Dwarf (dream) 30%, Wild Children 20%, Human (longhouse) 15%, Okilei 5%
Chief Location: These great dreamers are known especially within the great Caverns of Mi far below in the case of the dream dwarves, or the Spired Lagoons of the Idling Isles off the coast of Red Dew.
Common Races: 40% Trleetrlaa, 30% Human (imperial/longhouse), 15% Wild Children, 10% Kenku, 4% Duergar, 1% Darfellan
Chief Location: The Xenoxera are particularly common within the Tangle, where they seek to understand beginnings by the intrusion of the Queen of a Thousand Roots. Others delve deep into the Red Dew forest where the oldest of Hearth's inhabitants, the fey, are to be found. Just as many seek the bottom of the ocean for hints of Hearth's beginnings, which is but the start of their search.
Last edited by The Vorpal Tribble : 02-05-2011 at 04:20 PM.
Fell Fallman [General] Prerequisites: Base Attack Bonus +1 Region: Gelid Falls Benefit: You have had some training within the ranks of the Fell Fallman and are used to fighting in murky surroundings. You can see an extra five feet than usual in fogs and mists and your opponent does not have concealment from you unless he's too far to see at all.
Special: A fighter may select Fell Fallman as one of his fighter bonus feats.
Hauler [General]
You have a strong back and a pair of sturdy legs. Prerequisite: Str 16 Benefit: You are used to hauling heavy objects and gain 20 lbs to your maximum light, medium, and heavy load limits.
Speed Skater [General]
You are lightening on ice. Prerequisites: Skate speed Benefit: Your skating speed increases by 20 feet.
Last edited by The Vorpal Tribble : 01-23-2011 at 11:15 AM.
Glycerol Glands
This is an extensive set of glands grafted along the limbs and body of the recipient. The hypothalamus, the portion of the brain that regulates body temperature, is removed and replaced as well. Now when the recipient is exposed to cold temperatures this triggers a response in the brain that causes the glands to produce a special substance that keeps the body from freezing. A recipient of this graft gains immunity to frostbite and may exist comfortably in conditions down to 0 degrees Fahrenheit without having to make Fortitude saves. The recipient also gains a +2 bonus on saving throws against cold effects. In fact, if the creature possessing these glands fall unconscious from low temperatures he automatically stabilizes and instead goes into a state of suspended animation. For every year that passes only a day is experienced by the body of the recipient. It grows hungry after a "day" without food and begins to suffer the effects of thirst and starvation as appropriate. If the temperature around the body warms up to above 0 degrees the recipient awakes.
This graft does not provide any level of resistance to cold damage.
Graft Flesh, adapt body, suspend life; Price 10,000 gp
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Firesoak Silk
This exotic substance is a product of the wonderous firesoak moth. These moths are most often found within boreal forests, forming great nests within downed and rotting trees. Though covered in a thick brown fur and suited well to the outside temperatures, their eggs require warmth to properly hatch. They therefore spin extensive tunnels out of a sticky black substance they produce from their spittle. It quickly hardens into elastic threads. This unique thread absorbs heat with astounding efficiency. The body heat from the moths and the process of decomposition of the wood are trapped and a steady temperature is maintained within these nests.
This silk, when woven into fabric, produces a material invaluable to those of cold locales. A simple curtain across a doorway is enough to keep the heat within a room, or a set of clothing of the stuff enough to fend off the chilliest temperatures. Firesoak moths are not very common however, and difficult to raise, so that the prices of the silk is high.
The main drawback to firesoak is its incredible flammability. In temperatures that reach above 200 degrees, or brought near flame, the material combusts and quickly burns itself into ash.
Firesoak silk costs 10 gp per square yard.
Firesoak Bodysuit
A firesoak bodysuit comes complete with socks, gloves, and hood. It is treated as the equivalent of a cold weather outfit, except that it does little to block the chill of wind. Worn alone in windy locales it only grants a +2 bonus. If worn beneath other clothing or in calm areas it grants its full +5 bonus. This silk is so thin and flimsy that it may easily be worn underneath other apparel. If worn in conjunction with a cold weather outfit the bonuses stack.
A firesoak suit costs 120 gp. It can be made with a successful DC 20 Craft (weaving) check with four days of steady work.
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Blizzard Willow Nectar
Only another incorporeal creatures or magical apparatus with the ghost-touch quality can harvest and extract the oil of the blossoms of the Blizzard Willow. It must then be kept in a force affect or mixed with ghost oil. If blizzard willow nectar comes into contact with normal ice or snow the frost itself becomes incorporeal. It takes on a thin, misty look but otherwise seems normal until it is touched. A single dose is enough to convert a five foot square.
The nectar must be kept in temperatures below freezing or it loses its properties. If the willow is killed before the nectar can be extracted the flowers retain their potency for 1d6 minutes.
Blizzard will nectar is nonmagical and each vial has a market price of 50 gp.
Extracting the oil requires a DC 28 Craft (alchemy) or Knowledge (nature) check.
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Red Dew
A number of alchemists have been known to collect great quantities of red dew and distill it, turning it into an almost syrupy liquid of deep red color. Those who drink the brew gain a +4 bonus to all charisma-based checks when interacting with Fey, whom sense them as brethren. This bonus lasts for a day.
Red Dew is magical in nature, and each vial has a market price of 25 gp.
Preparing red dew requires a DC 10 Craft (alchemy) or Profession (brewer) check, and 6 hours a day for a week collecting the required amount.
Last edited by The Vorpal Tribble : 01-23-2011 at 11:15 AM.
Terene (commonly known as the Material Plane), is the middle ground, the firmament and most 'real' of realities. It is the universe and the fields of night. Here Hearth and many other worlds are to be found. It is the central hub of Creation as a whole, the place where all threads cross.
There is a triality to existence upon Terene that must first be understood; Body, Mind, and Soul, or Life, Dream and Death.
- The body is the tie to life and the physical. The planes it connects with are the elemental planes.
- The mind is the tie to all thought, consciousness, ego, and imagination. The planes it connects with are the Region of Dream and the Mindfields.
- The soul is the tie to the spiritual and moral. The planes it connects with are the lower and higher, and the Spirit World.
The strength of one's ties to each determines the individual's class, personality and even locale after death.
Terene however shares its space and reality with other 'aspects'. These aspects are just as real as Terene but follow their own rules that bleed into terene and their edges overlap. Those upon them live, die and dream.
These include:
Faerie, Home of the Fair Folk
Noc, the Shadow Realm
Spec, the Mirrored Lands
Afterlife Aspects
Heavens
Hells
Spirit World
Though none can feel it, as they age and their life force fades they are slowly fading into the veil. Once within the Spirit World the weight of their heart has them sinking down to the heat and horror of the hells or rising on the updrafts of Heaven.
This journey prepares their souls, and when they reach the destination they know it is what was deserved.
Within the Spirit Realm however there are those who cannot or will not move on, or who are too closely bound still with Terene. These are the ghosts and spirits of lore.
Spoiler
Spoiler
Spirit World
Death is as natural as life, and as life has a plane, so has death. The Spirit World is the place of natural death. It is the spiritual medium between the Inner Planes and the Outter. Those with Spirit Sense are actually seeing the natural release of the soul moving momentarily into the Spirit World. It is from there that all souls then must find their path to the Outter Planes.
For most the path is clear, and they can see no other way but to journey to their heavenly reward or bitter punishment. For others, the path is unclear or non-existent, having held no beliefs or are somehow barred from continuing on. Some deities even reside there and make it their home, such as Harkatottom. As well, the Mountain That Walks simultaneously walks the Spirit World along with the real.
Living spirits originate from this plane, from Spirit Animals and Deathless, to angels, unbodied and some elementals.
Undeath is not of the Spirit World. It is not the reverse of life, but it's antithesis, a mockery of the natural order. It shares borders however with the Ethereal Plane, and sometimes those of either cross between the two.
Elements
Aspects
Air
Earth
Fire
Water
Spoiler
stuff
Introvertia Aspects
Mindfields
Region of Dream
Spoiler
stuff
Last edited by The Vorpal Tribble : 01-23-2011 at 11:14 AM.
Hearth is a world that faces destruction coming from different directions, each as dire and all consuming as the rest. Hearth is but a dying ember, and however the final blow comes, it will one day be snuffed out.
All those upon Hearth instinctively feel this, but when you are born to incoming death you learn to do as much as possible with the time that has been given you.
A Dying Ember, while filled with potential for smaller adventures, where it truly shines is its potential for a true epic, both level wise and in scope of story or deed.
When running this campaign you can choose from a number of potential disasters to have the players work up to. All may begin small, but there are enough foes and adventures to challenge even the highest level character.
In fact, each potential doom is going on at the same time, and both are equally inevitable. If one is prevented or slowed, what then becomes of the next?
Here are the main dangers it faces.
Freezing
To most this is the most obvious danger those within Hearth face. When Iborighu was partially freed from his frigid prison he started a great chain of events that would have a world-wide impact. The world will never again be as warm as it once was, and to make matters worse it's getting colder. The chill fingers are spreading inexorably.
The cult that wishes to freeze the planet is digging towards all the sources of heat and cutting them off or blocking them. Like a cancer spreading through the warm veins, they wish to reach the core of the world and convert the world's warmth into a fire that freezes. Hearth will become the literal Hell that has frozen over.
Queen of A Thousand Roots
A much more insidious death, the Queen of A Thousand Roots is slowly strengthening her hold on the planet and growing. Those that are not plants or of the old order of Orsa will become nutrients to feed her, or worse, hosts to her seed.
She will take over the Ring and draw upon its warmth, while Iborighu siphons it from all else.
What will happen to those trapped between these two great deities? How does one fight just a single power, much less two? Then there is a further concern...
Burning
Though it is millions of years in the future, the star Doende Aske will reach Hearth as it bloats and consume it. Perhaps this is what the Winterhaunt wish to ultimately protect the planet from. Put it in such a deep freeze that even the touch of the star itself will be unable to reach it.
So if the cult is defeated, what of Hearth and its far descendants? The freeze may be replaced with fire, to no better end.
Is there a way to revive the dying star? Or must world be evacuated. Will any wish to evacuate? And then where?
Further danger include...
The fey of the Red Dew Forest rebel against the skrytinn'kanina, and decide to push man out of the woods for good.
Warlord Teh, epic-leveled orc and were chief of the Shifter-Orc alliance is attacking human outposts, probing for a fatal plunge into the heart of the Empire itself.
The iron body of Licc has finally had enough of the constant weakening of human blood with fey and nerrah, the diseased mutations of the okilei and the lessening of mankind's honor through the curse of lycanthropy and production of the shifters, raptorans and darfellan. Through their great and fearsome technology they will destroy the great highway and eradicate the impure human offspring once and for all. The remaining pure of blood will be forced to stagnate within their homes cities or die out completely, leaving only those of Licc.
The Nerrah wish to take over the Empire and a plot is discovered to replace the council with dopplegangers from their realm and finally the Emperor himself. Changelings and chevals are being recruited to further this cause.
Licc itself is at risk of being overwhelmed, despite their technology, to the 'barbarians' that have been cast out for millenia for showing signs of mutation, genetic drift or other 'impurities'.
Duergar, maddened by dreams of the coming apocalypses are attacking all main dwarven cities, hoping to hold the resulting Tappers hostage so that the Midgard will agree to bring the Duergar into the Mountain That Walks.
Last edited by The Vorpal Tribble : 01-22-2011 at 08:53 PM.
Looks interesting. Though, it might just be me, but the Faiths of the Frost color is hard to read.
__________________
He fears his fate too much, and his reward is small, who will not put it to the touch, to win or lose it all.
-James Graham, 1st Marquess of Montrose
Satomi by Elagune
You could delete the post if you wanted to(go to edit, click the circle that says yes you want to delete this post, then delete post).
__________________
He fears his fate too much, and his reward is small, who will not put it to the touch, to win or lose it all.
-James Graham, 1st Marquess of Montrose
Satomi by Elagune
Pretty awesome, is what. I haven't read through all of it, but awesome idea. I was just thinking about this alternate material plane where something very similar to this has happened, and you saved me a lot of work I bet. Thanks a biscuit.
One thing: maybe reduce the timeframe outlined in the world background? I know they're being of pure ice and all, but waiting 800 years would be a real pain. They must have been warring with the forces of pelor and light and all that good stuff during that time, right? Or maybe they're just really into boardgames.
Its all in these little, vital details to lend verisimilitude to a world. Like, what sort of boardgames did they play? I tells us important things about their personalities.
One thing: maybe reduce the timeframe outlined in the world background? I know they're being of pure ice and all, but waiting 800 years would be a real pain. They must have been warring with the forces of pelor and light and all that good stuff during that time, right? Or maybe they're just really into boardgames.
'Waiting' doesn't mean 'sitting on our frostbitten bums'. They were doing all sorts of priestly things. Some of which may have been messing with Pelor, yes.
Btw, I'm just using contemporary deities for the moment. Already have a good few written up, and may rewrite them all.
This is all I'm doing for the day though, which has more little niggly details than I'm sure you thought you wanted.
How many other awesome things are you hiding from us? This is like the Megamouth shark, a large/detailed marine vertebrate/campaign setting that modern science/the Playground didn't know existed until astoundingly recently.
First off, this looks amazing. Secondly, I definitely don't have time to read it right now. But I want to. And will. And may think of adventures in it, and perhaps, if you'd let me, run one pbp eventually.
But that's all long term. Good to know that there's a new massive repository of awesome from our resident decapitating fuzzball to sort through.
__________________ Quote of the [insert timeframe here]: (Week? Perhaps! Year? Also maybe.)
"Those who have learned to walk on the threshold of the unknown worlds...may then with the fair white wings of Imagination hope to soar further into the unexplored amidst which we live."
-Augusta Ada Lovelace
Ok, added most of the races, PrC's, materials/substances and famous NPC's that I'm not going to re-write a bit. Most of this so far has actually been stuff I'd already pre-written. Ran this campaign for nearly a year before moving out of state caused me to stop it.
Everything from this point will be brand new and spruced up versions of the old.
Last edited by The Vorpal Tribble : 11-18-2009 at 12:54 PM.
Wow! This is incredibly, thoroughly awesome, and it needs a bit of a bump. I don't even know where to begin describing what I like about this setting- just know that you kept me from studying for a good couple hours.
__________________ Witch RazorBlood Sage
(Links both lead to ToB disciplines I made!)
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[Campaign Setting] A Dying Ember
Re: [Campaign] A Dying Ember
wow.
