| T O P I C R E V I E W |
| Jeremy Grenemyer |
Posted - 27 Aug 2015 : 05:34:24
Now to try my hand at writing approximately 3,000 word entries, in the style of the Eye on the Realms series of articles penned by Ed Greenwood for the online editions of Dragon and Dungeon magazines.
I've tried this before, but never posted anything online (because it's damn hard). This time I plan to take on each article in pieces, working up one section at a time until the entry is complete.
The most trustworthy of unreliable narrators I plan to use for each entry is not Elminster[1], but any of five ladies, all from Cormyr. You may have even run into one or two of them in other scrolls on this shelf.
As always, please feel free to give feedback. I hope you enjoy yourself.
Without further ado:
************************
First, a summary of the parts of an "Eye" article, followed by a brief introduction to the Five Ladies.
The Books That Kill ---- COMPLETE
The Broken Blade (work in progress)
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[1] I could use the Old Mage, because DMs are free to do just that in their campaigns when they write up campaign materials, but Elminster belongs to Ed Greenwood, so I'll leave it to him to breathe life into a character that appears in work that far surpasses what you'll find here. |
| 14 L A T E S T R E P L I E S (Newest First) |
| Jeremy Grenemyer |
Posted - 02 Oct 2015 : 07:46:29
9/30/15
Starting a new article, titled "The Broken Blade". I reserved one post directly after the article's post, because I am thinking of separating the dialogue of the Five Ladies and giving it its own space, the better to make each article seem more like an Eye article, and not a hybrid article/story.
Posted the Introduction.
10/2
Added in the first footnote.
10/5
Got stuck re-writing the Introduction over and over. Wised up and moved on to writing section titles for the Moving Middle.
10/14
FINALLY past the Introduction. That's a weight of my shoulders. Must try harder not to write perfectly the first time around. Instead, plow through it and trust that I can revise and edit later without getting lost in the story. |
| Jeremy Grenemyer |
Posted - 30 Sep 2015 : 07:01:57
{reserved} |
| Jeremy Grenemyer |
Posted - 30 Sep 2015 : 06:58:16
The Broken Blade
In the Realms there exists an endless number of stories featuring magical swords. Cormyr suffers no shortage of these tales. The legends of Cormyr’s Swords of State—Ansrivarr, Orbyn, Rissar and Symylazarr—are known to most Cormyreans.[1] On any given day a variety of magical swords are carried in the Forest Kingdom, while many more lay forgotten in attics, below ground in cellars or lost in ruins, or girding the hips of hollow suits of armor on display in the homes of Cormyreans wishing to appear wealthy, or hung on walls to demonstrate an ancestral link to once famous adventurers in the family. Stories surround all of these blades; they linger invisibly in the minds of those who know them. Sometimes the stories are set down in print, others are told aloud by firelight. Some choose to guard the tales jealously, telling no one.
Sages and law keepers pay attention to these stories, because they provide clues when no hard facts are available, and make it possible to deduce who owns a particular magical weapon. Depending on the story and who is doing the telling, one can learn a great deal about when and where a magical weapon was lost, who lost it and who—if anyone—is now carrying it. Likewise one can learn something of a weapon’s history, and its pedigree—few Cormyreans realize that much work in the way of adding new enchantments to an already magical weapon, and renewing magical properties lost to hostile magic and physical damage, is accomplished in Cormyr.[2]
Bards in the Heartlands are well aware, and they make a point of informing anyone that’s lived long enough to acquire a magical weapon and have it damaged in battle that all is not lost. Accomplished menders of magical weapons have long paid bards (and others) to be their eyes in the Realms, in return for a small fee and a report of what was done to each weapon.[3] When bards gather to share stories, they trade knowledge about magical weapons repaired for stories about the wielders of those weapons and how they were used, the better to embroider their tales with words approaching the truth, and to reinforce their reputation as possessors of knowledge they ought not to know.
The story of a particular magical sword has circulated in Cormyr for over a thousand years. Its pieces have probably flitted about unpredictably in the Forest Kingdom for longer still. Bards have collected the sword’s history, but failed to paint the full picture, just as forge masters and wizards have tried and failed to end the menace of the Broken Blade by collecting all of its pieces and mending it once and for all.
The Origin of the Broken Blade
The Band of Bold Reavers
Lady Oldspires
Lord Halaunt Lives Alone. Or Does He?
[1] These blades rest in the Shrine of Four Swords in the Royal Court in Suzail. The other two, Ilbrath and Shiningbite, are missing. See the article Blades of Kings: The Cormyrean Swords of State by Brian Cortijo in Dragon 407 for a detailed account of all six blades. This article features illustrations by Hector Ortiz.
[2] The modification of a magical bladed weapon is a subject best covered by Sean K Reynolds in his fantastic article Blades of Faerûn. The brief stories behind each blade are pretty cool, and for fans of the 3rd Edition rules this article is very useful in that it gives exact cost breakdowns and step-by-step examples of how to price the GP and XP costs for the modifications made, and how to deal with corner cases that don’t quite fit the rules as written.
[3] The onset of Wintertime sees an influx of adventurers, mercenaries and merchants to Cormyr. Their numbers are small, but their hope is the same: find the reputable wizard, skilled dwarf or temple priest they heard about, and have their magical weapon(s) repaired and ready by the time the snows have melted and the ice on the roads out of Cormyr has thawed.
|
| Jeremy Grenemyer |
Posted - 02 Sep 2015 : 05:04:19
Thanks very much for the kind words, Snow.  It feels pretty good to help people out with their campaigns.
I am not running a D&D game at this time. Wish I was. As to the when for this article, it takes place after the events in Ed Greenwood's The Herald, so 1480 DR or thereabouts.
It'd be easy work to adapt this article to the 1370s, though. |
| Snow |
Posted - 02 Sep 2015 : 03:35:34
Congratulations. You've successfully transitioned the Dragon & Dungeon Magazine Eye of the Realms articles from the Ed Greenwood era to the Jeremy Grenemyer era. With nary a blink or a drop in quality.
Unfortunately, you've now raised the bar and you're not allowed to stop. :-P The Books That Kill are going straight into my GM Notes for Cormyr.
I am curious though .... in your own campaign, what (approximate) year range are you placing this article of yours? My campaign is running at 1373 right now. Our canon is all homebrew starting right after the official WotC canon stuff from 1372. |
| Jeremy Grenemyer |
Posted - 02 Sep 2015 : 00:37:51
quote:
Originally posted by George Krashos
Bravo. A beautiful read.
Thank you very much, George. |
| George Krashos |
Posted - 01 Sep 2015 : 14:51:02
Bravo. A beautiful read.
-- George Krashos |
| Jeremy Grenemyer |
Posted - 31 Aug 2015 : 05:56:17
quote:
Originally posted by Wooly Rupert
Am I missing the notation for footnote 6?
Thank you for the heads up. I added the notation In the last paragraph of the "A Rare Find" section. |
| Wooly Rupert |
Posted - 31 Aug 2015 : 04:09:28
Am I missing the notation for footnote 6? |
| Jeremy Grenemyer |
Posted - 28 Aug 2015 : 07:03:35
Notes on writing "The Books That Kill":
Ok, I've got the introduction complete done and the first part of the Moving Middle out of the way.
I figure two more entries to complete the Middle, then I can take a shot at the Close.
Follow that up with a re-read of everything, then I can write some parting words from one of the Five Ladies and learn if I've hit my goal of 3,000 words.
I'll cut it down if too long, or add more if too short.
I also need to build up the cast of opinions and characters.
8/29
Up next, "All Eyes Point to Candlekeep", and continuing work on the "A Rare Find and Deaths In Abundance" section. I guess I had more to say. 
9/2
OK, this one is really dragging me around. I'm going in directions I did not envision at first. I'm going to sleep on the work done so far and will probably do some major rewriting tomorrow.
9/4
Rewriting underway. Thank you for your patience while I change the story around.
9/7
Still at it. I think I can, I think I can, I think I can...
9/10
The moving middle is complete. Now to start the Close/A Word From Our Sponsor.
9/11
The close is complete. One last section and done.
What a gloriously imperfect first attempt this is. I'll take it.
9/20
The Five Ladies have been created and introduced. The article is almost done.
9/21
Moved the introduction to the Five Ladies to the first post after the OP in this thread. Works better that way. I also cleaned up some sentences with a bit of editing and the addition of missing words.
9/27
Done! |
| Jeremy Grenemyer |
Posted - 27 Aug 2015 : 15:57:07
I better get this entry wrapped up in seven days, then.
;) |
| Misereor |
Posted - 27 Aug 2015 : 14:29:09
quote:
Originally posted by Jeremy Grenemyer
The Books that Kill
Arabel is filled with merchants, bards and travelers, all of them carrying the latest news and gossip from far off lands. Most of this information is passed along by word of mouth, but much of it is written down in chapbooks and tomes sold individually or in bulk to buyers ranging from day laborers to the most jaded of nobles. Not all books sold in Arabel come from other places; it’s quite legal to copy the work of others without attribution, to make changes and combine parts of multiple works, and resell the result—and Arabel produces half as many new tomes as it takes in, these works bumping along in merchant wagons departing the Caravan City for destinations beyond Cormyr. A few priests of the Binder object to the practice of copying the work of others in this way, but they claim no part in the string of strange deaths of guild heads and booksellers in Arabel. Nor have they an explanation for the appearance of persons claiming the identity of characters right out of the most popular of books, all bent on murder. Who are these people? Why are they slaying purveyors and printers of books? Is this the wrath of the Lord of Knowledge? Or the work of a cabal of rivals?
If it turns out to be the work of the ghost of a little girl trapped in a well, I think *you* are going to have a copyright issue
|
| Jeremy Grenemyer |
Posted - 27 Aug 2015 : 08:51:21
The Books That Kill
Arabel is filled with merchants, bards, and travelers, all of them carrying the latest news and gossip from far off lands. Most of this information is passed along by word of mouth, but much of it is written down in chapbooks and tomes sold individually or in bulk to buyers ranging from day laborers to the most jaded of nobles. Not all books sold in Arabel are about news and gossip, nor do they come from other places; it’s quite legal, for example, to copy the stories of others without attribution, or to make changes and combine parts from multiple works, and resell the result—this being one reason why Arabel produces nearly as many new tomes as it takes in, these works bumping along in merchant wagons departing the Caravan City for destinations beyond Cormyr.
A few priests of the Binder object to the practice of copying the work of others in this way, but they claim no part in the string of strange deaths of guild heads and booksellers in Arabel. Nor have they an explanation for the appearance of persons claiming the identity of characters right out of the most popular of books and plays, all bent on murder. Who are these people? And who is slaying purveyors and printers of books? Is this the wrath of the Lord of Knowledge? Or the work of outlander merchant cabals?
Maxralam’s Demise
Maxralam “the Weathered,” owner of Maxralam’s Curios and frequent visitor to the Old Red Sword tavern, is dead.
In addition to the Curios, which stands a longbow shot north of the High Horn Gate in Arabel, Maxralam had part ownership in several caravan ventures, the majority traveling west into the Heartlands. He was a trustworthy businessman, and easily recognized: his features literally worn smooth by hard winds, bad weather and long days spent in the sun—in short, a retired caravan guard. Some decried Maxralam as careless for selling almost anything out of his shop; this accusation relying on the occasional mishap suffered by those who bought one of the odd somethings found in the Curious that did more than buyer or seller expected.[1] These complaints never found attentive ears next door at the Old Red Sword, where Maxralam held court nightly, attracting listeners and finding his drinks paid for as he passed on stories told to him by the many caravan masters and warriors who visited his shop to sell items they couldn’t find a buyer for anywhere else, and to check in on an old friend. The Curios keeps the same hours as the Old Red Sword, its small space filled well into the evening with buyers looking to acquire whatever interesting item they heard Maxralam talking about next door.
The space above the Curios is occupied by Maxralam and his personal collection of items acquired far and wide, the center of the room filled with a large bed covered in a riot of mismatched pillows and furs that Maxralam does not sleep in so much as disappear into. The foot of the bed faces a trapdoor that leads downstairs, the remainder of the floor and walls filled with shelves, oddments and a small desk, this last made of sturdy duskwood and just tall enough for Maxralam to stand on and reach a trapdoor overheard. His old body protests the climb onto the roof, but these pains are easily forgotten as Maxralam sits down to take in the view of Arabel, and to look east to the Gate, his thoughts drifting inward as he ponders the world beyond.[2]
The old desk easily supported Maxralam’s weight, and it held him gently enough on the day Darlock Dreadsword walked into the Old Red Sword, announced his presence to all and commenced to slaying. Darlock was cornered and felled, but he’d taken a half-score patrons with him by then. None thought to ask about Maxralam that night, nor the following night when Darlock returned to commence slaying anew. By the third night the tavern was filled with Purple Dragons and a pair of war wizards; they captured a newly risen Darlock without suffering injury. The Dragons searched nearby buildings, rightly suspecting some sort of magic was at work; they found Maxralam facedown, his emaciated torso resting on an open book of plays.[3]
News of a pompous, undying warrior bent on slaying all in the Old Red spread quickly. Weary Dragons and war wizards kept onlookers out of the tavern, the tense quiet broken by Purple Dragons clamoring onto the roof of the Curios. The first Dragon to make the roof watched as the hooded form he’d been chasing leapt from the roof of the Old Red Sword onto the boarding house next door, and disappeared.
An angry Wizard of War was overheard to say, “Only the books. He took the books and nothing else.”[4]
A Rare Find and Deaths In Abundance
"Thieves thieving the dead and dying with their writings!" This headline graced the top of a daily broadsheet familiar to the residents of Arabel: The Handkeg Hears All, the morning after the robbery in the top floor of the Curios and the discovery of the body of Maxralam. A fierce call rang out for the head of Maxralam’s killer—one the Purple Dragons answered later that night when they found the thief who’d escaped over the Old Red Sword’s rooftop halfway up a wall and motionless, his corpse transfixed by crossbow bolts fired with such force that they penetrated the stone wall the thief was climbing when he was shot. That wall and the small but grand castle it’s a part of belongs to the House of Baerlear, long a merchant family and now the seat of power for the Guild of Binders, Printers and Copyists in Arabel. The line of crossbow bolts ran up the wall to an open window, presumably the one the dead thief sought to gain entry by. Another must have found their way inside, however, and that person (or persons) robbed the Guildmaster of his life before taking a handful of prized books and disappearing. Servants of the House observed a Purple Dragon garbed in chain armor and tabard climb up the crossbow bolts readily enough. He inspected the body on the wall and found it bereft of possessions.
Crown investigators surmised the Guildmaster—one Nelezmur “the Book Tyrant” Baerlear—must have caught an intruder unawares, and paid for that surprise with his life after a single crossbow bolt passed through his heart to pierce the breast of a statue of a former King’s Lord of Arabel standing in the hallway opposite the entrance to the Guildmaster’s office.[5] The investigators discovered an open coffer of stone set into the floor of the office—it was empty. Under questioning the Baerlear seneschal affirmed that none of the rare books and treasures to be found in the House were missing. He claimed the coffer held a few simple, blank tomes that Nelezmur treated as though they were made of platinum and jewels, and that the Guildmaster could be found some nights with a blank book open to the first page, writing quill in hand and inkpot at the ready, but he always seemed to think better of it and put the book away.
When asked about recent visitors to the House of Baerlear, the seneschal was quick to point out that representatives from far off Candlekeep regularly called on Nelezmur, whether he was interested in seeing them or not. They were all monks by their dress, but carried themselves like adventurers; the seneschal claimed he had to threaten them every time to surrender their weapons and magic before he would let them anywhere near the Guildmaster. The first meetings were cordial, having to do with matters of book trade and the continuation of the Baerlear tradition of sending one wagon per year loaded with first printings of new works to Candlekeep. But in the days that followed the meetings turned nasty: demands were issued, accusations were made and then parried by recriminations. The last meeting ended with Nelezmur declaring henceforth that no book printed in Arabel would ever find its way to Candlekeep.
The seneschal claimed no knowledge of the source of disagreement, only snatches of conversation overheard when he entered the meeting room.[6] Forceful questioning by Crown officials yielded up clipped answers as to what was being discussed: the protection of Candlekeep; requests for donations to pay for the renewal of its magical defenses; word spreading that Candlekeep's walls were not so impregnable as many believed; whether or not Candlekeep should disperse its collection to better defended places (such as the House of Baerlear) in the short term; thefts of priceless works from Candlekeep; feuding among the monks amid accusations of betrayal, heresy, and even murder.
All Eyes Look To Candlekeep
The same day the seneschal was questioned, orders were issued for the arrest of anyone matching his description of the monks of Candlekeep. Agents of the Crown traced their movements prior to the death of the Guildmaster, but no sign of the monks was found until three days later, when a furious Daluthra Ravendarr stabbed her father through the eye in the common room of the High Moon Inn.
According to one of the hireswords employed at the Inn, Daluthra and her father kept separate rooms at the High Moon, and deigned only to speak to each other in public. There’s were a series of increasingly heated, nightly exchanges in the common room that culminated in Daluthra producing a dagger and plunging it into her father’s head.[7] The hiresword’s description matched that of the other guests, their accounts ending in unison with the recital of the last words of one Resaugiir Ravendarr, shouted into his daughter’s face ere she struck, “Is there not Hell enough awaiting you, that you must go seeking it in books and spells and consorting with strange wizards!?”
Daluthra was apprehended and the watch was summoned, but before the Purple Dragons found their way to the High Moon Inn a quintet of green and black robed figures, their faces obscured in deep hoods, hussled into the Inn and made hardly a sound as they padded upstairs on soft slippers. A serving lass spotted them at the other end of the long hallway on the topmost floor; she watched as they forced open the entrance to Resaugiir’s rented room, and saw the first two robed figures crumple to the floor in a fusillade of crossbow bolts. Their fellows leapt to the side, and according to the serving lass one of their number produced a large tome and flung it into the room. A bright flash like lightening erupted out into the hallway, blinding the maid.
Another guest dared crack his door open and watched from across the hall as the three surviving figures dragged their dead fellows into the room they’d broken into, leaving a trail of blood in their wake. The Purple Dragons had arrived by then, and followed the commotion upstairs. But by the time they entered Resaugiir’s room (after being guided by fearful guests exposing just enough of their hands and fingers to point through cracked open doors in the direction of trouble), they encountered two men and a woman, hands empty and palms facing forward, as well as the body of a woman laying on a bed, a book of plays clutched in her thin, emaciated hands.{8}
Were there dueling factions from Candlekeep warring with each other in Arabel? Had someone hired Nelezmur’s slayer, only to be double-crossed? These and other questions were on the minds of senior Dragon officers and Wizards of War as the monks from Candlekeep were manacled at hands and feet, and led away from the High Moon Inn.
A Warning From the Monks
A cast of characters was already imprisoned in the Citadel when the three monks from Candlekeep were led inside. Questioned separately, each monk began his or her tale the same way: they were trying to save a life, but were too late.
According to the monks, the book resting atop the dead woman was what slew her. That book is just one example of several such tomes that exist throughout the Realms.[9] All are dangerous things capable of draining the life from an unwary reader. The books are not cursed; their purpose is to provide the most realistic of performances possible. They do this by causing the scenery and characters in the play to come to life—literally. The life essence of a reader makes this possible, and trained readers can direct the flow of their life energies to and from a book, willing various elements of the play into and out of existence. This last is essential as the play comes to a close, otherwise a reader cannot hope to survive the experience. The death of a reader leaves any remaining characters uncontrolled; without guidance by spells or other coercion, the characters are driven to slay one another until one is left.
A motley force of crofters, merchants and swordsmen led by a white-haired woman wearing out of date clothing and wielding an elegant longsword with a wolf’s head pommel somehow made their way into the Citadel without being seen. They fell upon the Crownsworn men and women charged with investigating the mystery of the recent deaths in Arabel as they were questioning the monks of Candlekeep. The battle that followed was close quarters and bloody. The tide turned in favor of the Crownsworn when their attackers started screaming and howling, and began stabbing and hacking at each other. Only the white-haired woman, bloodied from the fray but unwounded, survived the frenzy. She regained her composure, took in the sight of the dead all around and announced, “I am Lady Halaunt, known by some as the Lady Lord of Oldspires, or simply Lady Oldspires. To whom do I address myself?”
A Naga Gets Loose
About the time Lady Oldspires turned on her followers, an enormous naga crashed through the floor of a warehouse standing two buildings over from the Bent Bow Tavern. According to Bow patrons and onlookers, the snake-like creature’s roars could be heard from inside the warehouse; they became all the louder when it tore through a section of warehouse wall, its momentum broken by its impact with the much sturdier wall that surrounds Arabel. The naga fell over and howled in agony as it clawed at a sphere of blue that floated within reach of its face. Purple Dragons responding from High Horn Gate watched the naga’s tail spasm and thrash; its whole body shriveled as it died. The saw that whatever was in the sphere fell atop the naga’s gaunt face as the sphere winked out of existence. War Wizards found it to be simple book of plays that lay open next to the creature’s fresh corpse.[10] Other war wizards enspelled the creature’s corpse and floated it atop a long wagon destined for the Citadel, while soldiers made for the hole in the warehouse. Inside they found underground cellars filled with floor to ceiling iron cages populated with nagas and other intelligent creatures. A tunnel ran from the cellars to another cellar dug out from the earth beneath the abandoned building that stands between the Bent Bow and the warehouse. The soldiers must have set off a trap when they entered the building, for a blast of fire erupted from inside and set it to blazing. The Dragons were competent enough to fill their hands with whatever was in reach as they fled, including stacks of tomes.
In the days that followed Arabel stirred like an ant hive kicked over. The Six Coffers Market Priakos—owners of the warehouse damaged by the naga, as well as the next three warehouses along the city wall—were hauled in for questioning, while their buildings were searched top to bottom. Guard details were doubled at all of Arabel’s Gates, all carts and wagons carrying printed materials of any kind were made to pull aside for inspection by cautious war wizards. The King’d Lord of Arabel dispatched criers to warn against reading any of the tomes found to have slain residents of the city, and books of plays in general.
The Ladies Have Their Say
News of dangerous books, the deaths of booksellers, and monsters erupting into Arabel’s city streets spread throughout Cormyr as fast as wagons travel. However, a certain gathering of women in Suzail discussed events in the Caravan City almost as soon as they happened.
The Lady Silver: This all of us? Am I to understand our full attendance is a rare thing? What of Lady Delcastle’s vacant seat?”
The Lady Blacktear:“Those worthy of consideration will be contacted, but not before you, Lady Silver, have made your recommendation. And yes, it will be rare for us all to attend, as our professions stand in the way. But this is exactly why Lady Delcastle chose all of us. In keeping with the rules laid down by our founder, I hereby recommend Hanifae Rowanmantle.”
The Lady Hellhound: “None of Nelezmur’s three sons are mature enough to replace him. He had no siblings. The seneschal’s family is more numerous and has served the Baerlear for decades. The Guild is too fractious to appoint a replacement. The seneschal and his kin will rule the Guild of Binders, Printers and Copyists in secret for years to come. Clearly the seneschal had a hand in the death of his master. I recommend Maharantrae Snardren.”
The Lady Bard: “The thief skewered on the wall has no name? Is it a he or a she? It should be little trouble to ferret answers out of the thief’s ghost, provided those blasted Kelemvorites have not gotten a hold the corpse. As for my recommendation? Rasalra of the Many Daggers.”
The Lady Cloak: Marantine would never have allowed the undead to become a member of the Rogue’s Club, so that means Rasalra is still alive. And here I thought all of the Errant Gauntlet were captured or slain! I second the recommendation of Rasalra, just to hear that story. You know, I have stolen dead bodies before. If the Doombringers have the thief’s corpse, well I will get it for you, Lady Bard. But you’ll have to wait a day or two, because I plan to steal the tome used by the monks of Candlekeep to capture Nelezmur’s assassin, right after some foolish war wizard loses patience and tries to let that assassin out for questioning. Hold! Who goes there?”
The Unwelcome Sixth: “You are too late, Lady Cloak. The Tome of Imprisoning was opened, the assassin escaped, and the foolish war wizards paid for their brash arrogance with their lives. But take note: the Crown requires you to steal on its behalf. The assassin still has Nelezmur’s personal treasures. Imagine being able to write down a description of your ideal castle, all its many rooms and furnishings, its defenses magical and mundane, its location and the nature and composition of the surrounding lands, and have that very thing come to life all around you? Any one of the four tomes Nelezmur owned can do that, and the assassin took them all. This is to be an All Horns Hunt, Ladies, just like when the Gauntlets were run down. Therefore find the killer, or find someone who can do so in your place. Lady Silver? Your recommendation will have to wait. Your presence is required in the Hall of Living Statues.”
[1] The incident depicted in the popular chapbook The Lady Turns Blue, as well as the coughing sickness that briefly infected a score or more of Purple Dragons (causing them all to croak like swamp frogs for a tenday), are widely attributed to items purchased at the Curios.
[2] Sitting on rooftops is a popular pastime in Arabel on summer nights, this activity punctuated by the rumbling sound of thunder rolling in from the north while viewers take in the varicolored displays of lightning.
[3] Maxralam had been reading the play Dread Triumph and Fall, an anonymous work composed in the Year of the Worm, featuring the character Darlock Dreadsword, among others. This information was coupled with a description of Maxralam that indicated his body was desiccated and lifeless, and forwarded to Crown officials in the Citadel. This report sat atop another, indicating the Crown had possession of two bodies of individuals who looked and were dressed exactly alike, both having claimed to be Darlock.
[4] This brief statement made by the war wizard Authkant "Old Codpiece" Melevor prefaced an outburst aimed at the nearest group of Purple Dragons, as follows, “Next time let me through, idiots! I can’t blast someone off the roof if I can’t see anyone to blast!”
[5] Nelezmur had a reputation as a voracious reader and a fearsome Guildmaster. He filled his home to the ceiling with books and tomes from all over the Realms. He treated guild members like family and paid his workers well. This treatment clashed with his demands for the very best work from all he employed, and the nigh-endless workdays required to meet his satisfaction. Some say he hired bullyblades to pay a call on individual printers and copyists who took liberally from the best works of the Guild and resold it to fill their own pockets (though Nelezmur had made an art of doing this very same thing with works sourced from outside of Arabel). His feuds with rivals in Suzail had many convinced the man was marked for financial ruin, if not death. Whether Nelezmur’s plans to fund the construction of a temple to Oghma in Arabel will come to fruition is anyone’s guess.
[6] A regular practice of the seneschal, who had leave from Nelezmur to interrupt whenever a meeting turned sour or was about to get violent (that is, if he could hear shouting through closed doors—usually the voice of the Guildmaster), as well when Nelezmur yanked a pull rope beneath the desk he sat at while conducting meetings, that sounded a bell where the seneschal was stationed.
[7] “With all the speed of a striking snake,” according to the hiresword, one Orndamar Windwise, whose job it is to keep order at the Inn and prevent trouble from getting out of hand. More information on Orndamar can be found HERE.
{8} The book open to the last lines of the play “Bold Hearts Broken”, by Nargustarus Grithym, playwright of Athkatla. The hands holding the book belonged to the rare book seller Lathlandra Gelzunduth, an Arabel-based bookseller who insisted on meeting other buyers and sellers of rare and hard to find tomes in the cloaked and curtained tables of exclusive eateries and the finest rooms of Arabel’s best inns, so as to appear far more sinister and mysterious than she actually was.
[9] “This much is truth,” according to the rotund Wizard of War and dragon expert Imdar the Stout. “A few dragons have mastered such magic down the centuries, some reading the plays and fueling the tomes with their own life force—and then reclaiming it by eating the cast of characters—while others formed cults from which to draw the most talented of readers. Some dragons enslaved sturdy beings such as dwarves to power the books. Dwarves were the first to invent them, in fact.”
[10] The tome open to the last pages of the play “Lady Oldspires Has Her Revenge”. Commissioned by admirers of a noblewoman who disappeared under mysterious circumstances, this play claims to depict the last days of Chalassandra Halaunt, known in her day throughout Cormyr as Lady Oldspires. One other play makes a similar claim: “Lady Oldspires: The True Telling of Her Life and Good Works”. This play was commissioned by the Lady’s fifth and youngest son: Hornsar. Hornsar was named after the Lady’s older brother, who by all accounts died in a conflict that erupted between adventurers and Halaunt elders on the ground floor of Oldspires some two centuries past, yet the True Telling hints strongly that Hornsar the elder survived, and even had a hand in Lady Oldspires’ disappearance. |
| Jeremy Grenemyer |
Posted - 27 Aug 2015 : 05:46:05
A summary of the parts of an "Eye" article:
Word count: about 3,000, give or take.
Title (like a brief news headline).
Three Sections:
Introduction -- about 160 words; a summary of the title.
The Moving Middle
Close
A word from our sponsor (Elminster weighs in, sometimes, and even he doesn't reveal everything because he does not in fact know everything).
Copious footnotes. (Note: a few articles have no footnotes; hard not to include them though.)
An "Eye" article includes a mix of the following:
Cast of characters
Cast of opinions
Tangents
Findables
Game rules
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Introductions are in order. I present to you the Five Ladies:
The Lady Bard
Naranralee of Manyghosts. A bard, and a native of Cormyr. Raised by ghosts. Grew up in a village filled with ghosts and a handful of living children. The dead teach her songs and tell her stories. As do the living.
The Lady Silver
Her true name is a secret. Spent a millennia frozen in time. Recovered by adventurers and returned to Cormyr. Well read. Educated. A source of firsthand knowledge of the world as it used to be. Naive to the modern Realms, but learning fast.
The Lady Cloak
The Rogue Cloak to Cormyr and the world beyond. Her true name is no secret. Not even she knows it. Always hooded. She calls the gatherings attended by the Five Ladies "the Rogue's Club." Only she does this. With her, everything is always a bit more than it actually is. Many enemies. Few true friends. Good at not dying. Better at stealing things.
The Lady Blacktear
Within the House of the Black Tear, she is Solantha Naerhand. She has many names. Her last decade was lived in Suzail. The wider Realms two decades before that. The air of nobility surrounds her. She is merchant through and through. Her spies are numerous. Possessed of a memory that forgets neither faces nor slights. To her, the Five Ladies are family.
The Lady Hellhound
Ambratha Halgontar. An investigator for hire. Persistent. Intuitive. Hard like iron. Good hearted. Her questions fall like hammer blows. Her conclusions weigh like Royal decrees. Her blades rest half-sheathed until an investigation is complete. She never stops.
The Unwelcome Sixth: Alorae Ruldragon
When this Wizard of War pays a visit to the Five Ladies, she stands behind the empty chair once occupied by she who organized the first meeting of the Ladies: Marantine Delcastle. Alorae speaks on behalf of the Crown, and her questions are answered grudgingly by any Ladies in attendance. Her superior once made a visit, but was rebuffed.[1] Alorae was the first of the living to depart the village she and Naranralee grew up in.
[1] The influential and fiery tempered Crown mage Glathra Barcantle. Glathra appears in a handful of Ed Greenwood-penned Realms novels set in Cormyr. Her subordinate Alorae does not. You can learn something of Alorae by following this link.
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