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sleyvas
Skilled Spell Strategist

USA
11815 Posts

Posted - 20 Nov 2019 :  01:23:53  Show Profile Send sleyvas a Private Message  Reply with Quote
quote:
Originally posted by AJA


quote:
Originally posted by sleyvas
Rathglimmer hill sounds like a particularly nasty elemental "hidden in plain sight"

would be interesting if that's the heartbeat of a primordial child born of Annam (or some other giantish power) still in its womb (after all, Othea "was a mountain")… the ogres being slain might even be linked back to Othea cheating with Vaprak

Again, for a lot of the entries what I post is all I have on the subject, but for Rathglimmer Hill I had thought a form of zombie fog (from the Ravenloft setting), bound to the catacombs under the hill and only active starting at dusk. I'd be curious to hear your thoughts on an elemental instead, and why it would be localized to this particular area?

Also, I like your ideas on Mount Sar. I really like the imagery of a heartbeat and a nascent "primordial" child (though I mean that in a more ancient elemental/giantish sense rather than the 4E Dawn Titan). My "view" (thoughts) on the Realms tend to come through a human/demi-kind viewpoint, so I appreciate the ideas on a giantish history/mythological perspective. Helps to expand my own horizons.




On the Rathglimmer Hill, the part that made me think elemental was "the Hill that Hungers" and the part that says that they were "swallowed into the dark soil". It made me think of hills that actually suck people into the ground and digest them. That being said, it could also be interesting if the earth itself was "infected" by Malar's claws... creating "stone flyers" from the 3.5 Underdark (a winged stone cat that can pass through stone/earth with its earth glide ability). In fact, it would fit because the entry for the stone flyers says Stone flyers usually hunt prey in packs, working in concert to bring down creatures that are traveling alone or lagging behind in a group. Once their quarry is unconscious or dead, they retreat into the earth or stone, taking their prey along to be consumed in safety, away from the site of the kill.. Having this area hunted by a giant pack of stone flyers (maybe as many as 50) that drag even full grown hill giants down into the earth could be interesting (especially if they "nip" the giants by lunging at them from the earth, not allowing themselves to be attacked).


Yeah, on the Mount Sar "child heartbeat" thing, I was thinking less dawn titan … more giant born of Annam OR Ulutiu, etc... but honestly, when it comes to some such beings I'm torn as to whether THEY are primordials or not (for instance, Ulutiu could be either an ice primordial OR an Archfey with ties to Ice OR a primal spirit OR something else entirely). I like the idea though that there's something there that just hasn't been "birthed" yet, and were it "birthed" it would possibly have strong ties to both earth and sky (explaining away the sylphs and the stone giants). For instance, maybe its a child of Memnor's on some earth spirit similar to Othea.

Alavairthae, may your skill prevail

Phillip aka Sleyvas
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AJA
Senior Scribe

USA
768 Posts

Posted - 21 Nov 2019 :  23:13:26  Show Profile Send AJA a Private Message  Reply with Quote

quote:
Originally posted by sleyvas
On the Rathglimmer Hill, the part that made me think elemental was "the Hill that Hungers" and the part that says that they were "swallowed into the dark soil". It made me think of hills that actually suck people into the ground and digest them. That being said, it could also be interesting if the earth itself was "infected" by Malar's claws... creating "stone flyers" from the 3.5 Underdark (a winged stone cat that can pass through stone/earth with its earth glide ability). In fact, it would fit because the entry for the stone flyers says Stone flyers usually hunt prey in packs, working in concert to bring down creatures that are traveling alone or lagging behind in a group. Once their quarry is unconscious or dead, they retreat into the earth or stone, taking their prey along to be consumed in safety, away from the site of the kill.. Having this area hunted by a giant pack of stone flyers (maybe as many as 50) that drag even full grown hill giants down into the earth could be interesting (especially if they "nip" the giants by lunging at them from the earth, not allowing themselves to be attacked).

I can definitely get behind this. I would say it has a real "Pitch Black" vibe, although the Underdark entry doesn't make clear if they can fly through air or only stone and soil. I also like the imagery of the earth itself being "infected by Malar's claws."

Other angles could be that the hill has significance to him because he buried the remains of some notable opponent or prey (as a dog with a bone) there long ago, and sent the flyers as guardians; or that they're the result here of his dalliance with an earth-spirit that once inhabited the hill. Also, the flyers are intelligent enough to worship him; perhaps their pleas summoned him when the dwarves attacked?



AJA
YAFRP
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AJA
Senior Scribe

USA
768 Posts

Posted - 22 Nov 2019 :  01:44:09  Show Profile Send AJA a Private Message  Reply with Quote


Drandarr
Small, slight, pale, and fair-haired. A local cabbage-caster (hedge-mage and herbalist). His placard, hung outside his fifth-floor Dock Ward residence midway down Spider Web Alley advertises "Charms for Heat-Wounds (fire and scalding), Cures for Warts, Blisters, Boils, and Other Eruptions of the Skin, and All-Manner of Remedy For Winter Chills and Aches." Yearns for adventure (and romance!) as in the florid chapbooks he accepts in trade for his services and hungrily devours. Has a jack-daw familiar, Silvertip, and a stout, curiously-whorled staff of dark shadow-wood (which may or may not be +2 vs. orcs, as his father often claimed).

Silvertip
The jack-daw familiar of the hedge-mage Drandarr. Glossy black with a brighter silver coloration on nape-of-neck and back than most of his ilk. Ardent and voluble. Thinks of himself as brave and cunning – leastways, enough to outwit any earth-bound tusk-face or plodding greenskin. Or Sretha, the local mend-maid, who keeps such pretty strings and swatches in her little push-cart!

Drannadar Suaril
Nephew of Wylynd Moonstar. Stocky, with fine brown hair and large brown eyes. Somewhat accomplished swordsman and adventuring bravo. "Drann" is possessed of an easy smile and a good sense of humor. He quickly matured from a brash, arrogant youth after seeing one too many comrades meet a bloody end, and now prefers to think his way through combat situations rather than charging straight ahead. He has been part of a number of adventuring fellowships in his short career, including the Moonshadows. Currently lodging at Greatmoon (the Moonstar villa), as the metropolis of Waterdeep appeals to him much more than smaller Neverwinter. Lord Helve has approached him about using contacts made by both his adventuring career and his noble ties to act as a broker for goods imported from Neverwinter and elsewhere, but Drannadar would still rather meet friends in the taproom of the Crawling Spider or go for a jaunt into Undermountain than have to deal with such things as account books and logistics.

The Drawn Blades of Sunset
Adventuring fellowship out of Silverymoon. Led by the practical, even-headed warrior Sustoon "Swunghammer" Sulgrund. Have recently cleared and occupied the wooded grounds and root-choked undercellars of Talthtowers, that ruined college of mages and apprentices, where they avidly seek Orultiir's Book of Curious Shapes (said to be inscribed with silvered inks upon violet-colored vellum, and to contain puissant spells of the school of Transmutation). While their main quarry seemingly still eludes them, on their last visit to Waterdeep they displayed (and sold to private buyers) copies of both The Origins of Incantatory Verse (322DR, Elethyr of Ascalhorn) and Illajlae's Workbook (The Tracery of Green Leaves) (1128DR, Illajlae Elven-Eyes), two other rare and valuable works.

Drimmurlask the Dour
Amnian author of Contemplations of a Mage (1297DR). "But if I am alive, I must be meant to live. And if I am meant to live, I will not be allowed to fail."


AJA
YAFRP

Edited by - AJA on 26 Nov 2019 00:31:07
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sleyvas
Skilled Spell Strategist

USA
11815 Posts

Posted - 23 Nov 2019 :  14:20:19  Show Profile Send sleyvas a Private Message  Reply with Quote
quote:
Originally posted by AJA


quote:
Originally posted by sleyvas
On the Rathglimmer Hill, the part that made me think elemental was "the Hill that Hungers" and the part that says that they were "swallowed into the dark soil". It made me think of hills that actually suck people into the ground and digest them. That being said, it could also be interesting if the earth itself was "infected" by Malar's claws... creating "stone flyers" from the 3.5 Underdark (a winged stone cat that can pass through stone/earth with its earth glide ability). In fact, it would fit because the entry for the stone flyers says Stone flyers usually hunt prey in packs, working in concert to bring down creatures that are traveling alone or lagging behind in a group. Once their quarry is unconscious or dead, they retreat into the earth or stone, taking their prey along to be consumed in safety, away from the site of the kill.. Having this area hunted by a giant pack of stone flyers (maybe as many as 50) that drag even full grown hill giants down into the earth could be interesting (especially if they "nip" the giants by lunging at them from the earth, not allowing themselves to be attacked).

I can definitely get behind this. I would say it has a real "Pitch Black" vibe, although the Underdark entry doesn't make clear if they can fly through air or only stone and soil. I also like the imagery of the earth itself being "infected by Malar's claws."

Other angles could be that the hill has significance to him because he buried the remains of some notable opponent or prey (as a dog with a bone) there long ago, and sent the flyers as guardians; or that they're the result here of his dalliance with an earth-spirit that once inhabited the hill. Also, the flyers are intelligent enough to worship him; perhaps their pleas summoned him when the dwarves attacked?






I do like the idea that they are guarding something. I also like the idea that they are the result of his dalliance with an earth-spirit, but what kind? I can't picture it being a "rocky" type creature. I could imagine it being a beast like the uthgardt tribal totems. Then again, if he mated with the earth spirit to specifically CREATE guardians... might be something we could do with that.

On the idea of them being there from PRIOR to his scratching of the hill, that might work better especially if we put them guarding something... something that the dwarves want. Maybe its actually that earth spirit? Maybe its something like an intelligent mound of Faerszress or something similar that's developed a spiritual awareness? Maybe its a cavern filled with those gems that the netherese were looking for... Chardalyns… and somehow its gained intelligence and learned how to use its "network" of Chardalyn stones somehow like some kind of earthen wizard that locks in spells in its "memory" in the form of the stones (and maybe it can recover/restore its chardalyn stones with time). It may even be a cavern filled with all kinds of different "magically inclined" gems/stones (i.e. faerzress, Chardalyns, beljurils, bloodstone, boakhar/wulfenite, greenstone, iols, Laeral's Tears, etc...).

Hmmm, so what IF its a "spirit of the land" (hadn't really looked at those until recently, but 3e monster manual 2). They have a picture of one that's a earth manifestation that looks like a bear. Maybe even its guarded not only by the stone flyers, but perhaps also by Quaggoths who have gained an affinity for magic using gem magics. Maybe even this "bear" form is a blue color similar to that which we would correlate "magic".... and maybe it has ties to the blue bear spirit that we hear of with the Uthgardt.

Also, if there were quaggoths say in the underdark in some cavern worshipping this "spirit of the land", there's nothing that says that this cavern has to have connections to the surface OR EVEN THE SURROUNDING UNDERDARK. That may be one of the chief things with the stone flyers... the quaggoths may "ride" them since they are large, and thus they could travel through the stone to the surface (whereupon they assault anyone on the surface and bring them "into" the earth to be sacrificed on an altar). These quaggoths may actually be "warlocks" who draw upon the power of this entity and in return offer it fealty (in some ways resembling the warlock knights of Vaasa, but probably simply wanting blood of a hunted prey and not so much domination, etc...). Picturing these quaggoths using weapons made of obsidian blades/edges, so perhaps the cavern also has lava in it (which ash from lava could make fertile gardens... maybe they take slaves from the surface or from the other underdark areas, and feed them from these gardens... and eat the slaves when they are no longer effective).

Alavairthae, may your skill prevail

Phillip aka Sleyvas

Edited by - sleyvas on 23 Nov 2019 16:18:18
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AJA
Senior Scribe

USA
768 Posts

Posted - 26 Nov 2019 :  00:30:44  Show Profile Send AJA a Private Message  Reply with Quote

Divers & Sundry Feyfancy, Sage-Lore and God-Saga
"...travelled to the West Beyond the West, with gold under foot and fire over head, and there he found the spent Flames of the Sun, and collected them to him under his cloak and, through his mighty artifice upon the shores of that unpeopled land, fashioned them into fearsome arrows with tips of forge-flame red, and whispered unto each a Name of Purpose, enchanted with murderous intent."
      How Estlarrn Invented the First Arrows of Slaying, a chapter of The Saga of Estlarrn, "The Softener of Steel and Stones"
      (elf-legend, ancient even in the ages when men first sung of Wolūf and Anachtyr and She Whom Neither Death Nor Old Age Awaits)

==================================================

THE MOTHER of a THOUSAND DEATHS
On the steep side of a mountain in the Evereska lands is a great and curious pine tree. It sits at a most unusual angle on the cliffs here, the great trunk running first one way and then another, a posture quite unfit for such an otherwise regal tree, but it is of such age and growth that its roots clench each and every boulder on the mountain-side, and its great canopy spreads to shade all of the valley below. And down in that valley grow countless smaller pine trees, but unlike their forebear these all grow straight and true and are used by the elves there to make their arrows of hunting and war, and have been used so for a hundred generations of Man. And of this tree which has given birth to such horrors that fly straight and true and deadly, the men and orcs of the region have given it the name "The Mother of a Thousand Deaths," and they curse it and have learned to stay far from it's leafy canopy. But the elves of Evereska call it Qualathra, The Great Bowyer-Wood, and this is the tale they tell of it;

(excerpted from Rastrarr's Things Not Generally Known)
One day the god Solonor Thelandira and his two companions Amlassra and Laethorn were out on hunt. As the mid-day approached they agreed they would each shoot an arrow in turn, and in the place where it struck there would they eat their meal. Solonor shot first, as beseemed his status as a deity, but his arrow stuck in the side of the mountain at a most awkward angle, and Laethorn and Amlassra laughed at his misfortune.

Drawing her bow second, as befit her position as a princess of the dryads and centaurs, Amlassra's arrow fell in a pleasant open meadow, but as she spread her blanket down a swarm of ants came up from the ground and ate her food; then finally Laethorn, the hero born of moonlight and royalty, made his shot and his arrow landed on the banks of a cool, clear river, but as he sat to eat, the waters rose with sudden spring flooding and washed away his repast.

Solonor Thelandira, who had not yet eaten, laughed then in turn, and used his magics to cause his arrow to enlarge and grow forth shady leaves and comfortable boughs, and he invited his companions to sit with him and share his meal. And so they ate their fill there overlooking the game in the valley, and afterwards went on to have a great hunt, and the arrow-tree they left behind did as all trees do, and spread its' arrow-seed down the slopes and into the valley. And the companions returned to Evereska with a full game-bag and the elves there looked longingly upon it, and Solonor said to them that his quarry was for him alone, but that if they wished to have the means to catch their own game they would do well to seek out the valley overlooked by a most curious pine tree and send forth their bowyers, for therein they would find the means to hunt and to defend for themselves, and be forever-after requited.


==================================================


HOW LLIIRA LOST HER SONG
In days before ken the goddess Lliira was famed far and wide for her masterful dancing and for her singing voice, more melodious than all the harpings of the planetars and the manyfold winds combined. Her steps were light and effortless and she never stumbled, except on one particular occasion when the sly god Mask tugged on the tasseled hem of her gown while she was pirouetting about a gathering of the gods. In revenge for this slight, Lliira pulled Mask from his concealment in the shadowed corner and compelled him to dance with her until she grew tired. At first Mask was willing to sport, for he was quite light on his feet as well, but as a dancing goddess Lliira's feet never felt heavy and the foolish rogue soon lamented his enthusiasm.

So round and round they went, and right as Mask felt as though his legs would simply fall off he remembered the trick by which he had more than once escaped from the pursuing bloodhounds of Helm the Guardian. And as he twirled he fashioned his black mask into a brilliant shining veil, and inside he rubbed the black pepper which he used to confound the hounds of Helm, and this he presented to Lliira who accepted it delightedly, for she loved all sort of shimmery things. And as she twirled and danced she raised the veil to her face and laughed in delight, and in doing so she breathed deeply of the irritating dust and then commenced a godly sneezing fit which shook every tavern and festhall from Tharsult to Port Llast. And so their dance stopped and Mask was freed and he wobbled away on the sorest of feet, and the other gathered gods all had a laugh at such spectacle, but then in the midst of Lliira's uncontrollable contortions a most curious thing happened – every time the helpless goddess sneezed, a pretty little songbird flew from her throat, full of the gay notes of the Lady of Joy!

And these birds with newborn freedom under their wings escaped the gathering of the gods and flew swiftly to the far corners of Faerūn, and carried on there the musical laughter of the goddess forever-after. And that is why to this day Lliira is not a god of song (but Milil is, and that is another tale for another time), and is also why all the goodly birds of Faerūn have such a sweet-sounding song.

and HOW THE CROW GOT HIS CROAK
All except one, that is, and that one was the ever-curious black-eyed crow, who, once escaped from the goddess, was quickly stopped in his swift flight to a far corner of Faerūn as he flew down to land to see the shining stones collected in the apron of the river-maiden Delimbyr, lounging there on the river-bank that bore her name. These stones seized the eye and inflamed the avarice of the crow, who exclaimed aloud that he simply must possess them. The river-maiden Delimbyr, as sly and treacherous as the waters that bore her name, quickly agreed to trade her river-pebbles to the black-eyed crow in return for his portion of the goddess Lliira's song.

The crow, blinded by his greed for the shimmering stones, hopped from branch to branch in excitement, but when he tried to exclaim his delight at his good fortune, all that came out was a terrible black squawk that sent the fish-maids of Delimbyr scattering into the river depths. Thus understanding the terrible mistake he had made, the shamed crow implored the wily nymph to undo the bargain and return his song. The fickle river-maiden, herself quite satisfied with their trade, told him that she would only return his song if he gathered for her a thousand-thousand-fold the original amount of stones, a truly impossible number.

Which is why, to this day, the Delimbyr happily sings and warbles and gurgles all through its' travels, and why the black-eyed crow cannot sing like the other song-birds of Faerūn, and why it covets and hoards shiny objects, in the hopes of one day finally reclaiming its lost song.


==================================================


HOW ULROLF WON (and then lost) HIS ROAR
(excerpted from the third and final volume of The Deeds of Ulrolf the Bold, of The Illuskans Of Old)
Now by this time Ulrolf was a great and mighty warrior, having slain the wyrm Widderfang and fashioned two unfathomable drinking cups from its horns, and also having penetrated the impenetrable cloud-keep of the great giant king Asbruar, making off with every bit of valuables in a sack over his shoulder. And as he rested upon the shore and pondered his next conquest he removed his footwear, to let his sore feet soothe in the sands. But after a short while, the cold sea waters came up and nipped at his heels, and at this the mighty Ulrolf took great offense. Filled with pride at his prowess and drunk with the heady excitement of his victories, he cursed aloud the sea-goddess Umberlee, and swore that he would make her pay for ruining his repose.

And so mighty Ulrolf embarked upon a vengeance, ranging and roaming up and down the shoreline, repeatedly dipping the twin horns of the great wyrm Widderfang in the roiled waters there where he drank and drank of the surf, quaffing like a man long lost amid the Great Sand Sea. Then, still not satisfied, he used the silver cutlery purloined from the giant king Asbruar to cut and scoop the white foam like the freshest clotted cream, until there was naught left and the shores ran quiet and docile. And the deeper waves of Umberlee then assailed him, but they too were unable to drag him into the depths, and each fell in turn to his ravenous hunger and in doing thus he gained the power and the furor of the surf, and was forever-after able to roar and yell like the worst of the winter sea-storms upon the shore. These actions of course earned him the ire of brine-shimmered Umberlee herself and also her master Talos the Destroyer, and his life was soon forfeit to their divine vengeance.

One day exactly seventeen summers after Ulrolf had claimed for himself the waves, his youngest and most favored son was to be wed on the isle of Ruathym, and so he made ready his longship and had it laden with the finest of wines and cloth and elf-goods, such princely gifts as had never before been seen at a Northman wedding. But the memory and the vengeances of Umberlee are as cold and deep as her salty depths, and as Ulrolf set out on his voyage the Bitch Queen sprung her long-delayed trap upon the hero who had despoiled her. Once past sight of shore the wrathful sea-goddess pulled the ocean itself out from under his longship for seven bowshots all around, until he found himself aground at a coral-girted arena on the sea-floor where terrible Talos awaited. And there the Lord of Storms challenged Ulrolf the Loud to a contest of bellows, who-so-ever the winner taking the godly mantle of Lord Roar for himself. But as proud Ulrolf stepped forward to take his turn, iniquitous Umberlee drew back in the roiling ocean waters to the very boundaries of the arena, and there they made such a fierce hue and cry as the despair of every sailor lost to the waves since the dawn of Faerūn, that his challenge was dimmed in the tumult. And then the broad-chested Storm Lord stepped forth for his try, and the wailing waters fell quiet, and Ulrolf knew that he was beaten, for there in that arena at the bottom of the sea-bed itself the mighty Talos unleashed a titanic clamor that encompassed every storm-blow, every avalanche, every shriek of toppling masonry since the dawn of time.

It is said that a foul apparatus fashioned from Ulrolf's innards, spine and brazen skull was fashioned afterwards by Talos and gifted to his clergy, and that it still exists, somewhere in the northern wilds, able to harness and expel the same furies of the cold swash and swell that he did in life. It is also said that Ulrolf's youngest and most favored son, the clever Ruathym warrior Orbraul, challenged and won back his father's longship and cargo of precious goods from the clutches of the goddess Umberlee, but those are both tales for another time.



AJA
YAFRP

Edited by - AJA on 27 Nov 2019 00:07:14
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sleyvas
Skilled Spell Strategist

USA
11815 Posts

Posted - 26 Nov 2019 :  23:00:50  Show Profile Send sleyvas a Private Message  Reply with Quote
The mother of a thousand deaths is very interesting, and I feel like the story of Ulrolf and Umberlee is familiar. Want to go back and look at some earlier stuff in this thread, because its ringing bells.

Alavairthae, may your skill prevail

Phillip aka Sleyvas
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AJA
Senior Scribe

USA
768 Posts

Posted - 27 Nov 2019 :  00:06:08  Show Profile Send AJA a Private Message  Reply with Quote

quote:
Originally posted by sleyvas
The mother of a thousand deaths is very interesting, and I feel like the story of Ulrolf and Umberlee is familiar. Want to go back and look at some earlier stuff in this thread, because its ringing bells.

Orbraul has made appearances in a few other posts, but I don't believe anything with Ulrolf has.


AJA
YAFRP
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AJA
Senior Scribe

USA
768 Posts

Posted - 27 Nov 2019 :  00:08:45  Show Profile Send AJA a Private Message  Reply with Quote

Phentos "Smoke-Stained"
(FENN-Toss) A member of the Council of New Olamn and Most Knowledgeable Tomespeaker of the First Racks of the Watchful Order. Author of Historical Magery, vol.IV: The High Art-Workers of the Middle Period of the North (a companion piece to Historical Magery, vol.I – III and their some three-dozen addendums, those tomes having been penned by his predecessors of the First Racks). He knows of the dragonwards of Ahghairon and has devoted his researches to finding a way to circumvent them, in hopes of allowing him to tame or subjugate and then lair a wyrm of his own within the city. To these ends, he has also begun scouting locations among the Wards where he might build a hidden dragon-den (whether pit or tower) to house his future prize. This all requires vast amounts of coin of course, of which Phentos has relatively little, a state of affairs which has the old sorcerer considering increasingly desperate (and illicit) methods of funding.

Phindolzoul (CE HM W)
(FINN-Dol-Zool) The Mage of Spider Eyes. An associate of the mage Maaril, and rumored member of the Arcane Brotherhood. Known to consort with drow and lower-planar beings.

Phulmyn the Scarred (LE HM P8 of Kelemvor)
(FULL-Minn) The Keeper (seneschal) of the House of Dusk, temple of Kelemvor. A brooding, withdrawn individual, who spends more time among the dusty ledgers and records of the city's deceased than anywhere else. Phulmyn has ugly, jagged scars across his throat and shoulders, hence his nickame. There are growing rumors among Waterdhavian society that he was once a high-ranking adherent of the death god Myrkul, leading to his new epithet of "Dead God's Get."

The Ploughmen
Mercenary company ("the ploughers of crimson fields", i.e., battlefields), most often active in the Western Heartlands among the city-states of the Chionthar. Pikemen and archers, minor complement of spellcasters. Currently rebuilding after a plague ravaged their numbers during their last siege. Commanded by the leather-skinned, iron-voiced Thulreene "Old Snap-and-Roar" (black-haired, with broad shoulders and fervent eyes; wears an ancient Talfir suit of ringmail +2, whose blueshined links have turned a tomb-darkened shade of purplish-black) and seconded by the battlemage Lamoril the Weatherwise, who carries the company's greatest treasure, The Whorl-Marked Stone (a chatoyant artifact of circles, volutes and curves, silver and rose-red, said to be the legendary zurund zeft, the bile-stone of Elgauthduskras the Unshadowed Flame).

Poisoned Golfruin
(GULF-Roon) Also commonly called "The Rasp," for his wheezing, strained voice and habit of coughing up black blood. Stained fingers, pallid skin. A former alchemist of the Mad Captains of Luskan. Now makes his coin dealing in coldsmoke liquid (perpetual ice-smoke, a common but very handy little enchantment that keeps ale pleasantly cool. A few drops into a basin creates enough cold air to cool a handkeg for two days, but the solution only works on copper metal), but cannot resist selling the occasional illicit poison on the side. [ NOTE: "coldsmoke liquid" and accompanying text taken from City of Splendors: A Waterdeep Novel ]


==================================================


Pithar the Bold (CG HaM F4) [ Source: "I Sing A Song By The Deep-Water Bay," Steven Schend, Dragon Magazine #211, p.34. Name/Description/Stats given ]

Pravus Muridae (LE HM [wererat] P4 of Sneel) [ Source: "...And A Dozen Eggs," Randy Maxwell, Dungeon Magazine #30. Name/Description/Stats given. Cult clarification given in A 07/20/21 Twitter reply to @TheEdVerse by Ed Greenwood. ]

Presper Staunach [ Source: Ed Greenwood's Spin-a-Yarn 2007: The Weaver of Dreams. Name/Description given ]


AJA
YAFRP

Edited by - AJA on 24 Jul 2021 00:39:33
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sleyvas
Skilled Spell Strategist

USA
11815 Posts

Posted - 30 Nov 2019 :  22:51:21  Show Profile Send sleyvas a Private Message  Reply with Quote
reprinted as I realized the tabs didn't take and made this a pain to read.

How two rodents saved Toril

In the dawn of time, when the gods were still young, Rititisk the Clever watched over the world tree with his trusty mount, Harifur the rabbit, who drew power from coupling with other beings. The red squirrel spent his days delivering rude messages between the night serpent, which gnawed upon its roots in a land of cold and darkness, and the dawn cock, whose crowing could be heard each morning as the sun brought light and warmth to the heavens. It was Rititisk who watched over Asagrimmr as he hung from the world tree, sacrificing himself to himself, and thus he learned of runecraft from the fevered meanderings of the Father of the Asagrim. It was Rititisk who helped protect and bury the acorn of Eiggdra that would grow to become Raelkath Maneeboughs in the womb of Kaelleara the antlered goddess with the help of his trusty mount, Harifur the rabbit, for whom no womb was an impediment. In return, Rititisk was gifted a bow made of laminated antler and wood, which he would name Killarr. Harifur was given antlers by the goddess that he might be able to protect Rititisk, and later the race of antlered rabbits known as the jackalope was born.

Thus it was that Rititisk was always at the center of things, but always did he go unnoticed as other mighty gods, spirits, and primordials instead take the notice of their peers. For instance, it was while riding in the quiver of Amlassra that Rititisk first learned of Qalathra, the tree which would become known as "The Mother of a Thousand Deaths", and brought it to the attention of the fledgling god, Raelkath. Thus was the tree blessed with the seed of the great oak, and Rititisk did gather its acorns and plant them throughout the realms connected to the world tree, and his trusty mount, Harifur did bless them to be fast breeding. It was from these many trees that Rititisk did collect the wood for his arrows, barbs which he would enchant by gnawing the runes of creation into their shafts.

So it was that slowly Rititisk did grow powerful, slowly building his armory for the day that Asagrimmr had warned him of. It would be the day that the night serpent would try to escape its imprisonment and attack the lands connected to the world tree. It was on that fateful morn that the dawn cock did call for Rititisk the Clever to once again come to the aid of Eiggdra. "Oh great squirrel Rititisk, many are the times that you have carried messages of hate between myself and the night serpent, but know that this time I summon you because the night serpent has broken free of its bonds and seeks to deliver terror upon the world. I need you to fight through its forces and deliver this feather of mine," and it did pluck one of its own multi-colored feathers from its body and place it into Rititisk's hands, "to a place that will become known to you when you reach it."

Though the night serpent was powerful, the great red squirrel refused to shirk its duty, but it had one request. "I will surely go to fight the night serpent's forces as you need, oh great dawn cock, but I will need the help of my trusty mount, Harifur to reach my stock of arrows in time to be of use. But though Harifur be fast, he would be faster still if he had wings. Surely, if you allowed him to breed with your wife, Syra, we would be able to fly to my arrow caches and make it in time to stop the night serpent before he can do much damage."

The dawn cock did look askance at Rititisk the Clever, but he could not refute his logic, for surely his mount would be much faster with wings. Thus it was that the goddess Syra did breed with Harifur the great rabbit, and thus were born the race of winged jackalopes in the lands of the bird folk. Moments later, Harifur did sprout wondrous wings, and Rititisk the Clever did lead his mount to his hidden cache of arrows just in time, for his wings were already starting to disappear. As the red squirrel did gather up his mystical quiver and begin loading it with shafts, news to reach him from the war mother of the Asagrim.

"Oh great and clever squirrel, Rititisk, I need you to come to the great forests of Anchorome, for the night serpent has led an army of wyrms to darken the land with their presence, and surely it will be the end of all things. But I have seen a strategy that can stop the forces of the serpent, and it requires your aid. I call upon you to help me defend creation, as is your responsibility. While I and my fellow gods fight them, we need you to slip behind their ranks and close the gate that they have used to invade our land." said the war mother.

Rititisk did think on it for a second, before saying, "Surely, I will come to help you, but I must be fast enough to make it through the forest, and even with his ability to fly, my mount will surely need to be able to tear through the undergrowth quickly. Surely, if you allowed him to breed with your eight-legged caribou, Besparr the Manylegged, he would be able to make it through".

The war mother did not have time to debate the matter, so she quickly agreed, and Harifur did breed Besparr the Manylegged, and thus were born the races of dire jackalopes and the eight legged rabbits known as Behares. Within moments, Harifur grew large and his number of legs did double, while Rititisk did gnaw the runes of slaying into his arrows. The tiny red squirrel and his giant jackalope mount did tear through the undergrowth as wyrms did attempt to assault them, but Rititisk was prepared with the shafts of Qalathra, fired from the bow Killarr, and it was that dragons great and small did fall dead before the onslaught of Rititisk the Red Squirrel as they did make their way to the Child of Eiggdra upon the lands of Anchorome. When they arrived at the great oak tree, the wyrmborn of the night serpent did stream forth in their hundreds, and Rititisk did fear that they would be unable to complete their mission. The wyrmborn did swarm the small squirrel and tear him from his mount, and one of them did entrap him in its mouth and threaten to swallow him whole. But even as he did despair Rititisk heard a voice within his head, and he recognized it as Raelkath Maneeboughs, and he was enraged.

"Who is this that would threaten my godfather! Beware all ye who stand against Rititisk the Clever and his mount Harifur, for you have angered Raelkath Maneeboughs, and though I am slow to anger, my fury is more powerful than the worst nightmares of your master." Then the very vines of the forest did entwine into the jaws, legs, and around the throats of the wyrmborn of the night serpent, and the forest floor was soaked in their blood. Moments after being released from the maw of his captor, Rititisk did run to the Child of Eiggdra and its open portal and he did use his incisors to carve the rune of closure upon its bark and force the gate to close before the night serpent could enter the world.

But, Rititisk's job was far from done, for moments later the Guardian of the Prismatic Staircase, Hemdahl, did call down to Rititisk. "Thank you for your aid Rititisk the Clever, but surely the night serpent seeks to enter the world by another means. The war mother says she sees his strategy will next be to mount an assault on the path from the heavens that I stand sentry upon. I must stand guard at the Prismatic Staircase to prevent the night serpent's entry, but already its serpents have moved into Katashaka and are attempting a ritual which would strip my control from me. Surely you must reach out to the jaguar goddess, Ix Chel, the Lady Rainbow, and her husband Nobanna the Firemane, to find out how you can stop their intrusion."

Rititisk, though tired from his exertions, rose to his feet and answered, "Thank you, Lord Guardian, as surely as I must breathe, I will not shirk my duty. I would appreciate it though if you could put me in contact with Lady Rainbow via the mesh of light." Seconds later, a multi-colored beam did shine down on Rititisk the Clever and he heard the purring voice of a woman.

"Rititisk, thank Ao its you! You are our only hope! The serpent servants of the dark one have arrived to spread their blackness upon the lands which I and my husband would brighten."

Rititisk thought upon her proposal for only moments before giving his answer, "I will surely come to your aid Lady Rainbow, but I must depend upon my mount, Harifur the rabbit, to get me there. Surely you must have me there soon, and only the power to move at the speed of light can get me there in time. Surely, if you could send your mount, Ulouroo, the rainbow winged Hipparcan to breed with Harifur, he would be able to deliver me to you with the power of magic." Moments later, the strange half-horse, half-toucan-parrot with wings and horn made of rainbow light appeared, and within seconds the great antlered rabbit had bred with her and its antlers had coalesced into a single horn of spiraling opalescence. Thus were born the unicorn horned race known as Katashakan Al-mi'raj, which are rumored to have strange magical powers.

Rititisk the Clever did then leap upon Harifur's back and the two did disappear within a swirl of light, only to reappear on the edge of Manu Ni Maloa, great land of the Nyama Nummo. A great rainbow touched from the sky to the land below, and a gleaming scaled army marched upon its surface. The various cat races of wemics, tigrans, lenastans, pumaji, kitaari, and tabaxi fought alongside colorful Tucati and Pa'ratxi bird folk against serpent men. Tiny mousefolk wielding stone headed spears fought and died valiantly against small fanged serpents, while black and white furred zebrataurs fought saurial monstrosities of fang and claw. Through the riot of color on the field below him, one color was most prolific, the crimson red of blood sacrificed to protect this land which they held dear.

It was then that Rititisk the Clever knew what he must do. Pointing and whispering in Harifur's ears, the red squirrel directed his rabbit mount to transport them to the base of the Prismatic staircase where the press of bodies was at its worse. Moments later, they appeared there, and Rititisk set forth clearing the land around him with his tiny arrows of serpent slaying, fired with the rapidity only a master archer can field. Finally, when he believed it to be safe enough to lay down his staghorn bow, he drew forth the feather given to him from the dawn cock and touched it to the pool of blood swirling on the rainbow bridge.

Instantaneously, the prismatic staircase dissolved, as did the blood of the fallen upon the field. In its place, a gigantic peacock surrounded in multi-colored flames did appear and spread its wings and tail feathers wide. "I, Feenicx, am delivered to protect you people of Katashaka! Servants of the Black One flee before my wrath! You shall not turn this world to darkness this day!"

With those words, the serpents and saurians turned and fled into the lands of the nyama nummo, where they reside to this day. With their leaving, Rititisk took to his knee, for in truth the tiny red squirrel was tired. He did put his head upon the mane of Harifur, only to discover his steadfast mount was breathing hurriedly and shallowly. A snake's envenomed fang had pierced the rabbit's neck, and Rititisk knew that his friend would soon be dead. A tear welled up in the red squirrel's eye, as he looked imploringly at the giant peacock.

With knowing pain upon its face, Feenicx looked upon the distressed Rititisk and said, "Harifur knew the cost that he would be forced to spend in order to summon me here. His sacrifice was one he was willing to give in order to save the world. Do not despair young squirrel, for he died valiantly, and the Murdannar of Snoedramorphe recognize his heroism. Already they have been dispatched to bring his spirit to the halls of the Asagrim, where he will be remembered with the other great beasts of the world."

"Then have them take me as well, for I would not live without my friend." said the tiny red squirrel archer.

But giant flaming peacock simply looked upon Rititisk with pity and said, "I fear your time is not come yet, mighty squirrel. You must refill your stock of Qalathra arrows, for the world may need you again, and all should learn to fear the wrath of Rititisk the Clever, that the night serpent never come to bring its reign of terror to the world. But know this young squirrel, your friend had one wish for you. He wished that you never be alone, and so he made his last gift of life to bring forth a new race in your own image. They shall be known as the kercpa and where the world tree needs protection, they shall be found."

And that is how two rodents saved the world of Toril.

Alavairthae, may your skill prevail

Phillip aka Sleyvas

Edited by - sleyvas on 06 Dec 2019 23:30:26
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AJA
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Posted - 06 Dec 2019 :  22:05:01  Show Profile Send AJA a Private Message  Reply with Quote

quote:
Originally posted by sleyvas

How two rodents saved Toril

Wow, there's a whole lot to unpack here. Love the whole creation mini-mythos of jackalopes in there. Even the al-mi'raj!

I can also picture kerpca bards and sages travelling across Anchoromé grandly relaying these proud and important legends to their counterparts of the other races – who are left just completely dumbfounded about what exactly the little furry buggers are talking about


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Traeve Morngauntlet
The Knight of Bear Fields, a holding in the western Moonshaes. Adherent of Torm. Coarse, loud-voiced. Hairy, muscular arms. Multi-time dueling champion of both Shieldmeet and Midsummer Games at the Field of Triumph.

Treant
Wood-That-Walks, Old Men of the Forest, Vengeful Verdances, Rurganralkh ("Death-of-Green-Things," orcish). Sentient guardians of the forests, titans of living wood from an elder time when the elves were young and Faerūn was yet fully green-girt. Though they are most commonly believed to be children of Silvanus, and some odder druids and sages speak of Emmantiensien the Treant-King (The Titan of Morn and Noon and Night, "which holds all the shadow'd past beneath its' shade"), they are also found in the service of Mielikki, Rillifane and most any other power that invests themselves with nature and the wilder aspects of Faerūn. Relatively few in number, with their highest concentrations in the North amid the High Forest and the Forgotten Forest, and in Cormanthor in the east. Tree-Guardians out of legend include The Yellow Sagittate (with leaves of golden arrowheads), Splendid Flaenrūl ("like midsummer, bright and long"), Ulätrel the Dowsing Queen (whose roots reached deep beneath the ground, and brought to the fore all things hidden and buried), and Thuskoldarr "The Warden of Hours and Ages" (one of the Four Flinders/Splinders, the four surviving branches of Nelebrimmaur, the First Ent, sundered and quartered by Bahgtru during the War of Elf and Orc).
      Other notable treants include (seperate entries in italics): Aragnorl the Oak, Bardryad "Old Blackbark," Eraskrel the Wise Watcher, Ilangathorl "The Beauty of Lanthalaur," Murzambrul "Old Red-Top," Rattleleaf, Thaulmog the Many-Whorled (of the Sevenscore Knots), Timbertangle, Raorthrust "Snow-Bowed"

Truthdelver
Private, for-hire investigators. Hired to solve crimes and murders. Includes those who have no spellcasting skills (beyond, in some cases, some minor sorcerous "wild talents" or psionics). In Waterdeep, there is a popular genre of chapbook called "tangleweaves" (murder mysteries) that feature such individuals. Popular titles include: A Trace of Bloodblight, The Black Goblin Tangleweave, Carrion in Castle Ward, Highcoin Confessions: The Goldcoin Murders, Hoarth, The Puissant Eye, Murder in Manypillars, Old Broadbrim and The Secret of Snail Street, Old Sledge, the Blacksmith Truthdelver, and The Tangled Tale of Manysorrows Manor. Notable Truthdelvers include (separate entries in italics): Aathur and Tablann "Extinguishers of the Outrageous," Belzidar "Eagle Eyed" Tanthar, Darthaerla Darkeyes, Garlatha Nightcowl, Laraskan "the Lucky," Tessaldar of Trades Ward. [ Source: Name and general etymology of "Truthdelver" from A 05/22/11 posting to the Candlekeep.com message boards by Ed Greenwood. Additional detail by me. ]

Tsemn "Sem-Sem" Semmdroon (NE HM)
A native of Tharsult. Runs numbers, protection rackets, and drugs for the Xanathar in the area surrounding Caravan Court. Able to command the services of at least two nearby gargoyles with the aid of a magic ring.

Tulfast and Ildranno
Merchant factors of House Ilvastarr. Currently the sole authorized (by the Stablemasters and Farriers Guild; not the Watchful Order) sellers of hawkdragons. Engaged in feuds with House Phylund and the Brothers Kolat over variant hawkdragons (red and noblewing breeds). Often accused of having stolen (and bred true) the winged magebreed from the tower of the exiled beast-crafter Orlavvan.


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Truehawks Trading Company [ Source: City of Splendors: Who's Who In Waterdeep, p.93. Name/Description given ]

Tuezaera Hallowhand [ Source: Ed Greenwood Presents: Elminster's Forgotten Realms, p.180. Name/Description given ]


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Edited by - AJA on 26 Dec 2019 06:08:55
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TREANT entry, other notes:

  • "Rurr-gan-rulkh" was the final words of the first orc to encounter a treant and live to tell the tale. Those of his tribe who later found him thought that the orc was telling them the name of these forest fiends, but it was actually just a nonsensical dying gurgle. Regardless, the name stuck and after a few generations of orc-myth came to be generally accepted to mean "Death-of-Green-Things (But Not Elf or Goat-Elf *)"

  • Of those "odder druids and sages" who speak of Emmantiensien, several also state authoritatively that the "Treant King" was one of the other Four Splinders, and so kin to Thuskoldarr.

  • Ulätrel the Dowsing Queen is also sung of obliquely in older lore and modern feyfancy as the "crooked stick" of the crooked woman of The Garden of Flowers and Old Witchcraft, originally posted in a 30 Aug 2019 entry, reprinted here;
    "past the tumbled walls where pines grow thick and stand sentry
    in which there is always sunshine and lovely flowers the whole year round
    where ferocious bearbind and hungry bindweed do battle with shining crowfoot and valiant kingcup
    and in the midst of that stands
    the crooked woman leaning on a crooked stick
    whose roots go down deep into the earth
    where the dead are and where they whisper their secrets
    "

  • Aragnorl is the main subject of the general memoirs My First Meeting With A Strange Oak (1062DR) and A Dappled Glade My Home: My Forty-Year Conversation With the Oak-Tree Aragnorl (1094DR), both authored by Tarathlara the Old Bramble, Quiet Song of Silvanus.

  • "The Beauty of Lanthalaur" is named for Lanthalaur (or Lanthalorl) "Where The Waters Sparkle Cerulean In The Moonlight," a wooded grove and pristine pool located outside the elven settlement of the same name. When the elves fled for Evermeet, Ilangathorl remained to guard the sacred grove and was then undone by the evils the elves were fleeing; it exists (but neither lives nor survives) today as a lyrannikin (black treant), thrall to the fiendish powers of Hellgate Keep.

  • Only the common-name of Rattleleaf is known today, extant in the name of Rattleleaf's End, the Tethyrian logging town where the great treant was felled; the central town hall was first built around – and the local Lord's seat still carved out of – the stump of its well-ringed corpse.

* Elf is elf. Gross. Goat-elf is elf, elf that mate with goat. Man say they "sah-teer," but elf is elf. Mate with goat. Gross. (so saith Raglūk Red-Tusk, "Great Mangler of Elf and Man," orc of note)


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Hex-Witch (cont. from the Apr 19 2019 entry)
Additional vengeful vexes (along with known common-names and ascribed symptoms)

Baglor's Black-Tooth (mouth-rot, goblintooth; purely visual vex, of slight concern to the ambitious social-climber)
Baglor's Insistent Vehemence (twitch-tongue; subject seizes on random disagreements in conversation and erupts in diatribe and cursing)
Baglor's Mouth-Miasma (foulbreath; purely olfactory vex, rendering any attempt at close conversation quite unpleasant)
Bledra's Grin-Rot (bloodygums, wretchsmile; purely visual vex, of slight concern to the ambitious social-climber)
Gultho's Belly-Burn (The Worms of Kossuth, gut-wrench; constant indigestion, stomach-pain and bile)
Kuldra's Mudwallow (mudwallow, puddleplunge, gutter-damp; causes an unreasonable urge to debase oneself with dirt and dung and other animal-wallow)
Lloraundeir's Llaming (cogglefoot, the wobbles; causes the target to walk unsteadily and without grace; usually a revenge vex from one festhall dancer to another)
Orascurl's Disagreeable Diarrhoea (scour-guts, rot-rush; as it says on the tin)
Philofrae's Prolonged Ebb of Purpose (spirit-lame, the grey tatters; subject experiences a general loss of vigor and ambition)
Tormrae's Sow-Face (nosebend; purely visual vex, sharply inclines the nose and nostrils unappealingly upwards)
Tormrae's Red Rash (faceboil, redpox; purely visual vex, of concern to the ambitious social-climber)
Tormrae's Whalemouth (blubberlip; causes unappealing appearance, slight speech and drooling concern)
Tormrae's Hairstench (hairstench, tress-trouble; purely olfactory vex, of concern to the ambitious social-climber)
Wrendalae's Phantom Castration (doesn't last long after casting, but unless disbelieved by a subject of uncommon perception causes an understandable level of immediate concern in affected males)



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sleyvas
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Posted - 06 Dec 2019 :  22:47:59  Show Profile Send sleyvas a Private Message  Reply with Quote
quote:
Originally posted by AJA


quote:
Originally posted by sleyvas

How two rodents saved Toril

Wow, there's a whole lot to unpack here. Love the whole creation mini-mythos of jackalopes in there. Even the al-mi'raj!

I can also picture kerpca bards and sages travelling across Anchoromé grandly relaying these proud and important legends to their counterparts of the other races – who are left just completely dumbfounded about what exactly the little furry buggers are talking about





Yeah, I almost started that with a introduction that it was a kercpa bard relating the story in Nimbral to a group in a tavern, only to walk off the stage and meet up with his beguiler gnome friend carrying a wand with a swirly black crystal symbol of Leira serving as the gemstone tip.

Alavairthae, may your skill prevail

Phillip aka Sleyvas
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sleyvas
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Posted - 07 Dec 2019 :  01:55:14  Show Profile Send sleyvas a Private Message  Reply with Quote
quote:
Originally posted by AJA


* Elf is elf. Gross. Goat-elf is elf, elf that mate with goat. Man say they "sah-teer," but elf is elf. Mate with goat. Gross. (so saith Raglūk Red-Tusk, "Great Mangler of Elf and Man," orc of note)





Kikarikik the kercpa bard came out yet again, lute in hand and began his second verse

And so Rititisk got a new mount, this one an old horny goat, and the Corellon told him one day, "Rititisk, I need you to go get me a sandwich, for I am amazingly hungry"... and so Rititisk looked at him and said, I would but my poor mount.... and he leered at Hanali Celanil…. and was promptly chased from the court of the seldarine by doves

Alavairthae, may your skill prevail

Phillip aka Sleyvas
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Boldrovar
Proprietor of Boldrovar's Burnishments (metallic polishes, gold leaf, alchemical tints and tinctures; lustrous adornment for every type of plate, shield, helm and sword-hilt. "Painted with prismatic hues of unimaginable brilliancy for the discerning noble and knight"), Street of Swords, Castle Ward. His shop is also known as The Many-Checkered Shield, for the wild-hued greatshield hung over the entranceway. Knows the alchemical process of blueshine, but not everbright.

Bolst Sea-Blooded (LN HM Aris/T)
A noble of House Ulbrinter. His mother, Bereene, went on to marry into House Margaster after Bolst's father died during the Time of Troubles. He is close with his uncle Nomus (patriarch of the Ulbrinter clan), and is both a master seaman and a shrewd merchant. He oversees much of the Ulbrinter sea-trade. Strong and stocky. Ruddy windburned cheeks, bright blue eyes, yellow hair and short-trimmed beard. Seamaster (captain) of the caravel Wayward Winds.

Braelarm Zoar
(BRAY-larmm) The Bullmastiff of the Zoars (in life), The Hunting Haunt of Lucern Hall (in undeath). Patriarch of the House of Zoar just prior to the rise of Ehlemm Zoar. Roams the now-abandoned Zoar manor-hold of Lucern Hall, in the rolling Dessarin valley hard on the Sumber Hills (where pallid lights stir and flicker within, and the ruins are crowned with a shimmering darkness even in the midst of day). Gave command to his family to be buried there, sat upright upon his favorite perch, for as he had commented innumerable times during his life, a merchant-lord was favored over a Hidden Lord, for the Lords sat upon a mere seat, but he rested upon a well-cushioned chair – almost a throne! (not only well-cushioned, but well-fashioned and appointed, carved in the most fantastic manner, full of gems and fine-work. It was pretty enough that it was stolen from his tomb by robbers not long after his internment, and his spirit is now a stalking death that haunts the grounds looking for vengeance upon those who took his resting spot).

Brantharn Hunabar
Founder of the Tethyrian noble house Hunabar, forerunner of the Waterdhavian House of the same name. Born to common tradesfolk in Mosstone. Began his unlikely ascent-of-fortune in the growing of the common hybiscus (rose-mallow) plant, after learning it to be the favorite of the Tethan princess Roumrada and correctly betting on her to win the throne over her four brothers. When she came to power he owned a dozen hybiscus nurseries, and was the foremost bidder to landscape the new royal palace and gardens she had ordered built at Summersails. From there he gained access to her court, and then her ear, and later still, her confidance. When he received his title he chose the rose-mallow for his House sigil, though by this time he had expanded into more prestigious (and lucrative) sources of income (which is why the Tethyrian house still boasts the rose-mallow while the Waterdhavian branch sports the reigns-and-star instead).

The Bright Swords Brandished
Local adventuring fellowship. Led by the half-orc Erūc the Bold (broad-shouldered and bearded, full of snarling, scowling bombast). Last known to be raiding the poisoned grounds of Thoulgard, where nothing survives there now save for The Pale Man (or The Pale Horror), glimpsed stalking through the ruins (a masterless flesh golem) in search of the artifact known as The Coil of Splendid Colors.


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Waelendra Rosygolden
Commonly called "Lendy" (or "Lendy-Lass," to the sailors she serves). Hin tapmaster of Waelendra's Goodhouse, an ale-and-not-much-else tankard house hard on the Docks down from Cod Lane. Has a most unique wild-talent: she can somehow infuse her sung song into her served mugs of ale, which burst with sudden notes of summer meadows, old piney forests and winter-crisp air, or heighten the senses like the taste of coppery lifesblood or bright flashing swordblades on the tongue. She calls this her "little gift from the gods of mirth and tavern."

Waentryn (LN HM)
A cold-eyed, close-mouthed, always calm armsman. Veteran of the endless goblinoid wars of the North. Former "Second Shield" (lieutenant) of the Blackfalcon Raiders. He resigned his commission in 1366DR to form his own mercenary fighting band, Waentryn's Wolves. Wields Relkyra, a battered and heavily-engraved broadsword that belonged to one of his forefathers, a warcaptain of Illusk.

Welftyr
A ranger of Silvanus. Author of Welftyr's Sketchbook, a treasure greatly prized and sought-after by the various Chauntean and druidical interests of the Savage Frontier (and others in Waterdeep, foremost among them Lord Bilaerus Thongolier). The Sketchbook is a large, leather-bound, painstakingly hand-etched guide to the various plantlife of the North, including notes on growing location and cycle, flowerings, edibility, and properties and uses (both medicinal and magical). Welftyr and his book were both last seen in the area of the Star Mounts, summer 1352DR.

Welvuur Daskullar
(WELL-Vurr DASK-a-lar) Slim, balding, red-bearded. Hawk-nosed, close-set, heavy-lidded eyes. Terse, circumspect, suspicious. A former apprentice of the mage Tessalar Hulicorm. A freestave willing to sell scrolls (1st and 2nd level spells), identify or ascertain magic items, and cast spells for profit. One of the few remaining Waterdhavian workers-of-Art willing to (extremely discreetly and for great cost) cast stonesour enchantments.
      Stonesour is a catch-all name for a variety of linked entropic enchantments, strictly-banned magic that causes worked stone to crack and become brittle, more prone to chipping and the elements. It was often used by builders to sabotage a rivals' work or to force potential customers to replace their existing facades and foundations, and by unscrupulous real estate speculators to drive down the price on a desired property. Since the height of the Great Collapses of the 1330's anyone charged with such magical malfeasance is guaranteed a one-way trip to the Undermountain; often those merely rumored of such dealings end up dead or missing, with a long list of guildsmen and property owners as primary suspects.

Whael "Softwheedle"
Shrewd judge of people; a rather charming schemer and manipulator. Often steers new arrivals on the docks towards the clutches of waiting lowcoin lasses, who then lure them into dark alleys and relieve them of coin and content. A senior member of the Headsmen street gang.


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The Waterdhavian Bureau of Adventurer Information [ Source: Forgotten Realms Adventures, p.23 and A 03/08/01 Note forwarded from Ed Greenwood to the REALMS-L Mailing List. Name/Description given ]

Waveswords [ Source: A 05/05/10 posting to the Candlekeep.com message boards by The Hooded One. Name/Description given ]

The Weaver of Dreams [ Source: Ed Greenwood's Spin-a-Yarn 2007: The Weaver of Dreams. Name/Description given ]

The Whaelwhirl Bucklers [ Source: A 09/21/05 posting to the Candlekeep.com message boards by Ed Greenwood. Name/Description given ]

Wheldor "The Stiff" Nondar (LN HM [Illuskan] Exp3) [ Source: A 05/12/12 posting to the Candekeep.com message boards by Eric L. Boyd. Name/Description/Stats given ]


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Agathard of Silverymoon
Brightseer of the Vault of Sages. Author of Gates, Portals, Far-Faring-Circles, Faerie-Ports and other Assorted World-Holes in the Lore and Literature of the Ancients (1004DR). "….and this then is what Thidra and Yannascorl wrote of in the following passages, from the still-extant Second Volume of Old Voyages; 'Far to the west where the crescent moon hangs lowest, where mighty Mélumra climbed the mast of her ship and there-by gained its' hookčd horns and challenged Selūne herself in her silvery domain and became one of her Handmaidens. There lies still that point of silver light, far to the west where the crescent moon hangs lowest, the mark of her passage, where it is said the boldest may follow her into the myriad vaults of the heavens, and elemental planes beyond the ken of Man….'"

Aglust Highquill
The Golden Cock of Castle Ward. Bard, duelist, seducer of noblewomen, priest of Lliira. Penned the well-known play The Maid of Merrymore (1273DR). "In that golden light the wild flame-flies dance through the fairy neem, and the lovely stars that hung o'erhead set the spice fields all a-gleam." His body was never found, but is still widely believed to have been stuffed into some dark closet or storage room of the Snome villa.

Ahaervus the Scarred (CE HM F)
Dock Ward thug and occasional agent of the Mystran priest Meleghost (provides information on mages newly arrived in the city, or covert sellers of arcane paraphernalia, and may waylay them in darkened alleys or after a night of drinking). He bears an unwilling magical compulsion against revealing this information. Formerly an armsman and bondsword in the Tethyrian civil war. Bears the scars of his profession, as well as severe facial marring, the result of childhood illness. Dark, narrow eyes. Coughing, raspy voice. Prefers sneering over speaking. Forms a rather dangerous back-street duo with the Tethyrian cutpurse Bittershanks.

Ajaldaera of the Emerald Eyes (CG ½EF T7/Illu3)
A well-known courtier and "reveldancer" at the House of Beauty (her specialty is the rope-dance of her native Tharsult, in which she glides, twirls, and contorts herself high above the floor on an impossibly delicate webwork of lines). Adopted as a young lass and trained in the Art of illusionry by Jenavhros of Teleshamn (a friend to her slain parents), and later spent time in Murann as a freelance thief colorfully known as "The Ensorcelling Eyes." In addition to her devotion to Sune, she is also currently a member of the Harpers.

Ajanathan Oloroun (CN HM T)
"Agile Athan." Native of Turmish. Harper-friend and member of the "Alashandaera Orn and Her Many Lights" traveling performance troupe. Brown skin, short brown hair. Wide-spaced eyes, heavily pock-marked face. Thin and wiry, with an astounding degree of flexibility and balance. His most popular feats center around his archery skills, including tumbling-shot, quick-fire and trick shots, and hitting targets while standing on one or both hands and firing a bow with his feet.


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Ahghairon's Great Cloak [ Source: Realms By Night, Part 9: The Spirit of Ahghairon. Name/Description given ]


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Lhaleskren of Lliira
(Lhal-LESS-Kren) Enforcer of Merriments, Drowner of Sorrows. Keeps her honeyed hair in a braid that is usually loose and frazzled. Expressive eyebrows, waggles them continuously in conversation. Smiles in a rictus grin, has the burning eyes of a zealot. An "Unreasoning Joy" of Lliira (heretical fanatics who believe that there is joy and humor to be found in all things – even if one is sunk into the utter depths of depression or personal horror they should be made to laugh when crying is warranted; or, more succinctly, forced to "see the funny side of things." A religious doctrine they enforce by compulsion of steel or spell, as necessary. Needless to say, the main Lliiran church has long considered these believers to be abominations hoplessley corrupted and twisted by Shar, the dark Lady of Loss who makes mockery of the true rejoicements of Lliira).

Loribal Finefish
The Binder of Sauces. Noted "hearthmaster" (hire-chef). Exacting, demanding, precise. Called "The Binder of Bane" by his exasperated or beleaguered underlings (but that only far out of his hearing). Commonly said to have spent "a fair fortune" (most of it coming from his employers) engaging dwarven and Lantannan metalsmiths to refine and refine again his designs for specialized cooking utensils, molds, and saucepans. Fat and slightly hunchbacked, with grizzled eyebrows and a copious, unruly grey beard. Unlike his personal grooming, his habiliment, like his cooking, is always meticulous and without fault. He buys his wardrobe from the master tailor Welauskras of Silverymoon, then goes south to Kaulakh and The Pasha's House of Calimport and demands that they be re-fashioned of oriflur and torammar and damasked silk. Prefers shades of blue and green; when engaged in cookery always wears his trim the colors of his central dish-of-the-day.

Lorzul Temmar
Seamaster (captain) of the free caravel Redstorl. Has a false right eye. Originally sported a somewhat realistic replacement, but found a colorful swirled blue-green orb in Myratma and prefers the air of mystery it affords him. Bulbous nose and fleshy lips. Heavily-pocked cheeks and chin half-hidden by wild grey muttonchops. When in port, prefers the company of hin and gnomish bedwarmers, of both sexes.

Lujan Left-Hand (LG HM Ra8)
(Lou-JANN) Formerly a ranger of the Guard. Lujan's maiming came from The Doom of Frost and Void (a shard of Ocanthan Ever-Ice that sports several cold-related enchantments and functions similarly to a sphere of annihilation when in contact with unprotected flesh). He now serves as an initiate at the Shrines of Nature, and has learned to wield a shortsword with his remaining hand. Has a twin, the mercenary Lunathan Left-Handed.

Lunathan Left-Handed (CG HM Ra6)
(Luna-THANN) Often mistaken for his twin, the Forestarm initiate Lujan Left-Hand. Is actually ambidexterous. Brusque and hasty both in word and action, ill at ease in cities and crowds. A captain of the Blackfalcon Raiders mercenary company.


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Lorimar Naerdruth [ Source: A 12/28/12 posting to the Candlekeep.com message boards by Ed Greenwood. Name/Description given ]

Lorkas Ermaxis [ Source: "I Sing A Song By The Deep-Water Bay," Steven Schend, Dragon Magazine #211, p.30. Name/Occupation given ]

Lorlan Duraxe [ Source: A 06/26/06 posting to the Candlekeep.com message boards by Ed Greenwood. Name/Description given ]

Lorngar Roaringhorn [ Source: Powers & Pantheons, p. 162. Name/Description given ]


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Edited by - AJA on 20 Dec 2019 00:45:57
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Five Entries Taken From Helmsfrin's A Compendium of Field-Lore and Harvestcraft
"To make a tomato salad you must not slice the fruit in a dish and then pour on it a little vinegar and then a little oil; that is not salad – that is ignorance." (The Belgian Cook-Book, Edited By Mrs. Brian Luck)

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Black Delian
A bubbly, mottled fungus with white spangles and fringed, shelf-like edges. Has the consistency of slimy, slightly rotting mushroom. Tastes of earth and anise. Grows in dark, dank dells and bat-infested caves close to the surface. Harvested by gnomes and kobolds alike, for use in their religious ceremonies and occasional sale to the other races. Gives the eater euphoria and numbness, occasionally limb seizure and god-visions.

Faershak
A delicacy from unknown lands (the Underdark, actually). Praised for its' firm, meaty texture. Understandably so, since the faershak "fruit" is actually the larvae of the white-eyed brimbeetle. When the brimbeetle injects its' young into the faershak plant to incubate in the plant's violet sap, the faershak forms a cyst of sorts around the invader, in an attempt to eject it. When the larvae-cyst reaches the right size and color, it is harvested by the svirfneblin, who do a fair bit of trade for it with orcish and human merchants. Not the drow though, they can't seem to stand the taste of it.

Fisherbane (sarlukkai [Calimshan], scalewort [Tethyr])
Grows in moist, mostly coastal climates along the Dragonshead Peninsula south into Calimshan. A dense, pinnate shrub with small clusters of indigo flowers and white thumbnail-sized seed pods. These seeds can be pressed and the oil they contain can be made into a poisonous tincture that paralyzes most fish; it does not affect larger, humanoid or monstrous piscines, but some southern alchemists know how to combine it with other essences to create an oily ointment that is effective against sahuagin and kuo-toa (and then most often applied to arrowheads and bladed weapons). In humans and Hin it has been found to be surprisingly effective in the treatment of a number of "scaled poxes," including greyscale, whitescale, feverflake and the bleeding itch.

Melusk (Giant Black Ant Vinegar)
In the parts of the Shaar long plagued by giant formicaries the natives there boil the giant ants in water; the acid thus produced is made use of by the inhabitants as a vinegar, being strong and good and of a noticeable fiery, chili-like tang. It has gained popularity afar as a condiment in certain parts of Calimshan and Tethyr, and travels well for sale there. Holy warriors of the Shaar often use melusk in their religious fasting before battle; they also use it to pickle the eyes, hearts and brains of vanquished opponents for the celebratory feasting afterwards.

Myrtheld's balm
Collected from the stunted, thorny braerik shrub that grows wild on the High Moor; small silvery flowers and pink cones bloom in the rainy Spring months. The cones are a favorite treat for resident rothé, but also for humans; when cut or pressed they produce a fragrant, viscid resin used often in perfumes and mixed with processed whale blubber to produce pleasing, scented lamp oils. Myrtheld's balm also attracts oozes, especially ochre and mustard jelly and the gelatinous cube, all of which are avidly drawn to such an offering; canny herbalists in Waterdeep have begun to charge great prices for the balm to adventurers seeking to delve the Undermountain, as a "guaranteed" way to suss out such subterranean menaces.



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sleyvas
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Posted - 21 Dec 2019 :  18:36:42  Show Profile Send sleyvas a Private Message  Reply with Quote
I like herbalism stuff, especially Faershak and Melusk

Oh and heard Loribal Finefish is favored of putting on cooking demonstrations for the nobility, wherein he has become noted as "the Blam Chef" for using the word every time he "sauces it up" (to use his vernacular).

Alavairthae, may your skill prevail

Phillip aka Sleyvas
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Malcibar
The Obdurate Hammer, the Tempter of the Tailings. An arch-devil of fire and metalworking. Enjoys unfettered access to Waterdeep due to a flaw introduced deep within The Welcome Gates (the giant portal located in the Lantanese embassy that leads to the far isle of Anchoril), where every trip through allows him opportunity to traverse to the Prime Material. Relishes bedeviling the local faithful of Gond, ensnaring them with false promises of unearned prowess and masterful inspirations. Trades their despair and creative insanities to his fellow denizens of the Hells in return for magic and rare Abyssal goods. Also has weaknesses for zzar and games of skill (Pixie on a Pole, Old Man Ahghairon, and Aroint Thee! being a few of the favorites) and can be found, disguised, ensconced in any number of city tankard houses.

Maliantor the Magistress (NG HF W11)
The Mage of Veils, The Blackstaff's Eyes. A member of Force Grey and former pupil of Khelben Arunsun (rumored to still be one of his main agents). Waiflike of build and body, with a thunderous temper and commanding voice. Possessed of striking good looks, though she habitually keeps her curly black hair, milk-white skin and overlarge, liquid brown eyes concealed behind a variety of veils and masks and illusory covers. A lover of intrigue and secrets. She has dedicated herself to following the Blackstaff's precepts of planning and forethought, and she spends much of her time preparing scrolls with the spells needed to contain the problems she faces in battle. She can also frequently be found in the libraries and vaults of the Palace, New Olamn, the Tower of the Watchful Order, and the Font of Knowledge, deeply engrossed in an ancient scroll or dusty tome (no mean feat, considering she should not have unsupervised access to any of these locations). She fully accepts Jardwim as leader of Force Grey and shares much (though not all) of what she knows with him, although she is often nonplussed by his reluctance to unhesitatingly embrace her advice and suggested courses of action. [ Source: City of Splendors - Campaign Guide, p.74. Name/Description/Stats given. Additional details by me. ]

Malorgauth The "Black Alder"
A great treant of the Lizard Marsh, whose bark was stripped and steeped after death and used to color the Bestarred Black Robe (a robe of stars) of Jacoskur, a freestave of Amn who took part in the destruction of Ulcaster's School of Wizardry and remains now as a wizshade that menaces the ruins.

Marae Green-Eyes (CN HF F14)
The Battle-Daughter of Tempus, The Reclaimed Sword of the Wargod. An ally of the reclusive Ice Hunters of the North. Fell in battle defending the doors of the House of Heroes from the onslaught of Myrkul's Minions. Raised via a Grand Resurrection ceremony. Even more reckless in combat than before. Her once-vibrant emerald eyes are now flat, watery, haunted orbs. Former leader of the Ten Swords Shining adventuring fellowship. The Ten Swords were once based out of the Delimbyran manor-hold of Soaringspires, until its taking at the hands of Zhentarim magelings and their wyvern mounts. Marae currently lodges at the House of Heroes, plotting to retake the hold and avenge the death of her lover, the warrior Delgiron. Wields Irriphglas, the Twice-Broken Blade, a major relic of the northern Tempusan faith.

Maroardahl
(Mah-ROAR-Doll) "Master of the Arts of the Surge and Suspiration of the Seas." A long-time shipsmage (quells weather and pirates, repairs sails and leaks). Red-headed, fat and slovenly. Generally unpleasant. A far better shipsmage than he appears. He did not invent the unwelcome anchor enchantment (that came originally from the Gund wave-shaman Toldrūc), but he certainly popularized its' useage while running Luskar longships through the Waterdhavian encirclement of Ruathym during the 1358DR Windward Bones blockade.


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Posted - 26 Dec 2019 :  06:18:04  Show Profile Send AJA a Private Message  Reply with Quote
quote:
Originally posted by sleyvas
Oh and heard Loribal Finefish is favored of putting on cooking demonstrations for the nobility, wherein he has become noted as "the Blam Chef" for using the word every time he "sauces it up" (to use his vernacular).
(as opposed to his cousin Ramsae, "the Stlarning Chef," noted for using the word every time one of his apprentices cocks up a dish


Merry Christmas, one and all. May Santa stuff your stocking with 1d4 orcs, a locked strong-chest, a sword of quality, and the courage to swing it. Stay away from the eggnogg though, I'm pretty sure that stuff is just egg-yolk ochre jelly in disguise.


Two additional notes on the Malcibar entry:

Tavern Games
In brief, Pixie on a Pole being very much a Jenga-style game, Old Man Ahghairon some game of cards with the wild Joker card as Ahghairon, and Aroint Thee! as a verbal game where players take turns insulting each other in colorful ways, the only rules being that the next in turn has to start with the last word of the participant before them, a given insult must not be repeated, and the players must articulate a response in a timely (a breath or two) manner or lose out.

His time-tested sales-pitch:
"I offer treasures more dear
Every device and design
That your hearts could desire
Craft and Contrivance
And the words to Inspire

Nothing to fear
A small surcharge you see
A pittance of soul and sanity
Such a minor price to be decree'
As Prince of Cogwheel and Gear
"



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sleyvas
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Posted - 26 Dec 2019 :  19:31:06  Show Profile Send sleyvas a Private Message  Reply with Quote
quote:
Originally posted by AJA



Malcibar
The Obdurate Hammer, the Tempter of the Tailings. An arch-devil of fire and metalworking. Enjoys unfettered access to Waterdeep due to a flaw introduced deep within The Welcome Gates (the giant portal located in the Lantanese embassy that leads to the far isle of Anchoril), where every trip through allows him opportunity to traverse to the Prime Material. Relishes bedeviling the local faithful of Gond, ensnaring them with false promises of unearned prowess and masterful inspirations. Trades their despair and creative insanities to his fellow denizens of the Hells in return for magic and rare Abyssal goods. Also has weaknesses for zzar and games of skill (Pixie on a Pole, Old Man Ahghairon, and Aroint Thee! being a few of the favorites) and can be found, disguised, ensconced in any number of city tankard houses.




Malcibar cheats at Aroint Thee! using his spell like abilities to read his opponent's mind.

Alavairthae, may your skill prevail

Phillip aka Sleyvas
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Posted - 29 Dec 2019 :  01:52:12  Show Profile Send AJA a Private Message  Reply with Quote
quote:
Originally posted by sleyvas
Malcibar cheats at Aroint Thee! using his spell like abilities to read his opponent's mind.

Lets be honest, he cheats at all of them, one way or another.


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Chardragan of the Purple Tabard (LG HM F16)
A dilettante and ne'er-do-well notorious in both the lowest Dock Ward taverns and the highest Sea Ward galas. His persona of "Shortsword Charley" (a reference to both his apparent drunkardness and his alleged impotency) serves him well as cover for his true occupation as an envoy and highknight of Cormyr. Inoffensive and inane in act, level-headed and coldly shrewd in fact. Grey eyes (which snap from bleary to keen in a moment), black hair and heavy black eyebrows that almost meet over the middle. A lover of Loene and elder brother of sorts to Caladorn Cassalanter.

Cirian Cellantyr (LN ½EM Aris)
The Lord's Envoy. Of mixed moon elven-Silvaeren descent. Tall and thin, regal bearing. Has rather severe facial features (high forehead and cheekbones, narrow-set eyes and thin lips), very long fingers and long straight blue-black hair, commonly worn unbound. Intimately familiar with the customs and languages and social niceties of all the major lands and peoples of western Faerūn. Wears a simple white knee-length tabard ornamented only by a purple sash bearing the crest of the city of Waterdeep.

"Cleaver" Clarunna
A poorwife of Bitter Alley. Killed her husband and three small children and two of her neighbors in 1354DR. When called upon in Lord's Court, blamed her actions on the knife-grinder Rohn, whom she accused of placing foul enchantment upon the cookery cleaver she used to do the deed. The hapless Rohn was thoroughly investigated by the blackrobes and, having found no evidence of any sorcerous intent, Clarunna was pronounced guilty and and sentenced to death by hanging from the city walls. There are those on Bitter Alley who claim to this day that they can still hear her spirit sobbing for her murdered children, but a priest of Lathander dispatched there some years ago found no evidence of any haunting. Her tale (embellished, of course) was featured in the widely-sold chapbook Scabrous Stories of Dock Ward: A Cataloguing of Divers Horrid and Unearthly Doings.

Clubs of Waterdeep
Not the sort you swing and bash with, but the sort you sit in, drink in hand. Waterdeep is host to scores of such establishments, both those that beckon visitors to the city and citizens with coins to spare alike, and those more private upper-room or downcellar clubs. There are clubs that offer either a consistent theme (this is a club where people go to flirt and more than flirt, that one is a dining club for those whose palates are adventurous, over there is a gambling house, and yonder is a club where bards, poets, and scriveners read aloud from works both classic and their own new or unfinished efforts), or that are in truth just "different" eateries – different than standard taverns, inns, and 'soup corner' shops – offering places to dine and drink with some sort of live entertainment (from beast-wrestling to music to short plays), and there are nobles' clubs, clubs open only to the wealthy (so guaranteed because there are stiff entrance fees and/or steep annual dues), clubs run by particular guilds for members and guests, or members only, or as recruitment fronts to gain new members, and clubs that focus on hobbies, such as dragonseeking (dragon spotting or dragon watching) or collecting enameled chalices, or savoring exotic wines, or going on arranged treasure hunts around the city (finding notes and symbols left beforehand and assembling them to decipher clues and find the way to a real prize). A club can be "neutral ground" for investors, adventurers and those desiring to hire them for missions more complex and delicate than mere mercenary guarding or "bullyblade" work; a club can be a means of small-hold investors banding together for greater clout and mutual benefit; a club can act as a "city storage vault" or bank for members; a club can be a place to bathe, rest, or grab some privacy, quiet, and shelter for a "breather" from hectic activities or a nap or even a place to hide; a club can be a place for someone to entertain or meet with persons a spouse finds objectionable.
        Notable Clubs (separate entries in italics): The Bedfellows Club, The Belts (see Hobin Boldfoot), The Blacksaddle Club, The Delightful Sours, The Fairflanks Society, The Farfarers Club, The Farwanders Society (see Halberdant Thunderstaff), The Golden Sheaves, The High House of Heroes (see Morivel "Hartmantle" Hartimantur), The House of Honor (see Relevandrel Vornreth and Sargrath's Folly), The Longsail Club, The Mouser's Club, The Owldrake Club, The Quaggoth Club (see Enguth Orhlaern), Quellar's Cellars (see The Order of the Lambent Tongues), The Sahuagin Club, The Silken Spiders, The Society of Stags, The Suldown Street Society, Stag Swords House (see Garleth Khalastym and Ildevvur Murmrask and Sharlassa Tilturr), The Taol Club (see Ilighryn Delzagus), Varendraleer's Club, The Wands. [ Source: "Clubland in Waterdeep," Ed Greenwood, <realms.theedgreenwoodgroup.com/clubland-in-waterdeep/>. Description given. Additional detail by me. ]

The Company of the Good and the Brave (Belithindra's Goodswords)
Local adventuring fellowship. When last returned to the city they had successfully raided the Weary Woodbines (Where the Eaves Fall Silent in the Twilight), that forgotten druids-den where dark-spiked rosemary and fair-heeled marigold and things of hoar and squam and other horrors indescribable now hold sway, and came away with the clockwitchery Songbird of Summer-Sune, rosy-hued and bejeweled and sweetest of voice. Led by Belithindra the Bearded, a human warrior of somewhat unusual cerise hair and beard (ornate, full and tri-braided).

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Churylle Manthar [ Source: City of Splendors: Who's Who In Waterdeep, p.20 (misspelled as "Churyl") and A 03/08/10 Posting to the Candlekeep.com message boards by Ed Greenwood. Name/Description given ]

The Company of the Windgorgon [ Source: Ruins of Undermountain Campaign Guide, p.77-78. Name/Description given ]

The Copper Ghost [ Source: A 05/26/04 posting to the Candlekeep.com message boards by Steven Schend. Name/Description given ]


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Copper Elven Vampire
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Posted - 30 Dec 2019 :  02:29:36  Show Profile Send Copper Elven Vampire a Private Message  Reply with Quote
1 Elaith Craulnober
2 Dauntless
3 Yvondeth the Baelnorn
4 Halaster
5 The Vampire Manshoon
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quote:
Originally posted by Copper Elven Vampire

1 Elaith Craulnober
2 Dauntless
3 Yvondeth the Baelnorn
4 Halaster
5 The Vampire Manshoon

They all walk into a bar?


I'm not sure what you're asking, but if it's whether I have any notes on those characters, I do not. Aside from a variety of colorful titles for ol' Halaster, taken from the cover of the following volume;

The Collected Legends of Halaster the Mad (Known Variously and Correctly as The Lord of Twists and Turns, The Eater of Echoes [That Fade Down The Halls], The Waiter At The Threshold, The Mirth of Terror, The Cackling Crow and He Who Eagerly Awaits) (1361DR, Zeltabbar Iliphar)


Now, if you're asking "who would win in a fight," I feel like it would follow the old Marvel Comics code of "depends on whose comic it takes place in" (with "comic" replaced by "writer"). Ed for Dauntless, Elaine for Elaith....hmm, would Steven get Halaster or Vampshoon?


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Zesplund "Cavil-Crow"
A contentious and widely-unliked member of the Watchful Order. Has an unpleasant personality and is quick to find fault and quibble with those around him. Has deep grey eyes, dark eyelashes and brows, and a well-trimmed beard.

Zoar Oradyn
A noble of House Moonstar (widow of Emmelynn). A fop and braggart, whose exaggerations often exceed his deeds. Since Emmelynn's death he has turned to heavy drinking and gambling. Quite often a source of embarrassment to the House (Lord Helve has had to pay off Zoar's outstanding gambling debts more than once, and is giving serious consideration to shipping him off to a Moonstar holding in Tethyr; perhaps one of their vineyards, where he can drink his life away without causing any more social offense).

Zorbul Iron-Mace (CN ½OM)
Proprietor of the Orcshead, a drinking establishment in South Ward frequented by foresters, prospectors, and various sellswords. The tankard house takes its name from the numerous severed heads and ivoried skulls that adorn the walls. Zorbul, himself a veteran of the endless goblinoid wars of the North, sees nothing wrong in displaying the heads of slain orcs and other goblinkin, for he despises that part of his heritage. He gained his epithet from the giant iron mace, more akin to a blacksmith's hammer than anything else, that hangs above the bar (with which he is quite proficient, and will wield, if necessary, in combat).

Zur and Gall
Trades Ward street urchins. Spent their youth as number-runners for Malask the Blackjool (an underling of the Xanathar). They survived the drow warbands that came hunting Xanathar-men in 1362DR, and served for a time at the domicile of the sorceress Belshareen Azurean. Now aspiring cutpurses and fledgling members of the Hobgoblins street gang. Zur is tow-headed with bad acne (and called "Orc-Face" by his fellow Hobs, which he doesn't like at all) and Gall is sallow and spindly and sullen (and proudly carries the sobriquet of "Yellow Wasp").

The Zzarblin of Kegs
The Illbold, Black Merrymaker. Rum-rude, Wine-waster. Legendary foul spirit believed to haunt the city taverns and tankard houses. An empty keg or spoiled vintage is said to be the work of the Rudeboggle, as are any spills or missing stores in the cellars. Any opened tavern door accompanied by a gust of frigid or candle-snuffing wind bears the possibility of an unwelcome visit from Black Sot. "Who's been here? The Zzarblin I fear; For he's left the bottles clear." (the closing song of many a Lower Ward tankard house).


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Zorn [ Source: The novel The Dream Spheres. Name/Description given ]


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Posted - 03 Jan 2020 :  01:17:25  Show Profile Send AJA a Private Message  Reply with Quote

Divers & Sundry Feyfancy, Sage-Lore and God-Saga
"It was there they looked to The Gates of the East, aflame with Lathander's rose-red promise and warded by the star-guardians Teltarokh (The Lion That Roars In The Gloaming) and the Luthlorn (The Insolent Eyes of Luth), and Irthaun held aloft his sword and swore aloud again his holy vow, and his companions did follow likewise, and the dawning heavens shone forth in response."
        Excerpted from The Romance of Irthaun Goldenshield, The Knight Who Rode East Unto The Dawn

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HOW THE PLOVER UNHOOK'D THE MOON
Ancient legend says that in the very beginnings of what men known know as Faerûn, the orb Selûne was fettered to the Realms by means of a great sorcerous chain, wound deep down around a great and solid mountain range. It was then that the goddess Selûne made effort to unhook the moon, freeing the orb from its' earthly shackles. To accomplish this feat she first asked aid of the gods, but all said no, for as such things were decreed so such things must be. Next she went to the elves and dwarves and asked the same of them, but they said no as well for what was done by the gods must not be undone by mortals. Finally, she bent her knee to the various beasts and birds of Faer#251;n for succor, and all of them, big and small alike, trembled in their dens and nests and told her that such things were not possible for mere creatures such as they.

Then did the goddess Selûne begin to despair of ever freeing the orb Sel#251;ne, until suddenly one of all the gods and elves and dwarves and beasts and birds stepped forth, the valiant little plover, who steadfastly promised his aid. And thus the goddess and the plover went to the mountain range around which was wrapped the chains that hook'd the moon, and they pulled and pulled from morning to night and back to morning again. And then it was that the very roots of the mountains came up free from Faerûn, and the moon spun up into the heavens, bright and full, and free to travel upon its own path from then on.

And the mountains thus uprooted fell in a line, still chained behind the moon, and are known to men these days as the Tears. And of the valiant plover and all his descendants, Selûne took them as her heralds and friends, and blessed their little eggs, which is why today plover eggs look like little spotted imitations of the moon and why, when she travels across Faerûn, her majestic carriage is pulled there by a team of five-and-twenty plovers.

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THE TALE of HELM FULLSAILS and THE FIRE-GIANT'S YOUNGEST DAUGHTER

In those elder days when Helm Fullsails reigned over the throne of Mighty Illusk there came a terrible parching heat that blew down into the kingdom, withering crops, drying up rivers and killing livestock. The cause of this evil was discovered to be the Fire-Giant King of Fire Mountain, that dark peak, red and terrible under the stars, that loomed far to the east. The Fire-Giant King there kept his hearth-fires stoked high, and he would use his great and winding warhorn to blow the heat and ash of his fires down into the Illusk realm. So King Helm girded his mighty sword and went to confront the Fire-Giant King atop his Fire Mountain, but he was soon treacherously captured thanks to the puissant enchantments of the Giant King's giant right eye, a great gem sparkling with untold power. And then the Fire-Giant King thought to himself that a great Mannish king would make a great kingly meal, and ordered Helm chained in his prison, to await his turn upon the Fire-Giant King's giant fire spit.

Now in those days, according to giantish tradition the keeping of the hearth-fires was considered women's work, beneath the dignity of the king's men, and so it fell to the youngest daughter of the Fire-Giant King to keep the great flames alit through the night. And as this giantish princess went about her duties, she heard Helm sing from the bars of his nearby prison;

Ah me! Ah my! My weary doom come by-and-by!
My flesh to roast, my bones to burn
Never again the sea to swim!
The waves are white, the waves are blue
They reach and dance like maidens true!
Those cool blue depths, not again to see
The waves they call, they call to me!
Ah me! Ah my!

Now as it was, the Fire-Giant King's youngest daughter had never the chance to see even pool or pond or poor muddy river, much less an Ocean with waves on shore, as such things do not exist in the fiery realm of those red-skinned titans. The very thought of such a thing captivated her, and she soon found that she could think of nothing else. She came foward and demanded he sing again, "Man, come here! Let me hear once more of what you have been singing." And so Helm sang again of the cool blue waves on the endless shore, and how they danced and lept, and she decided right then to herself that she must go and see such wondrous things with her own eyes.

And so Othlarra, for that was truly the name of the Fire-Giant King's youngest daughter, demanded that Helm take her to see this Ocean, this dancing sea of endless blue waves. And crafty Helm asked in return only that she bring him the Giant King's right eye, the great sparkling gem, as fare for passage to see the great blue sea. This the princess agreed to, for she knew nothing of gems of Power and had always thought it a rather ugly blemish upon her kingly father's kingly face. So in she crept and quietly took the gem from her giant father's giant night-table, where he laid it every evening before he slept, and upon her return Helm grasped her hand and they made haste past the sleeping guards and down the treacherous slopes of the Fire Mountain.

The pair travelled swiftly through the night, down the steep, ash-covered slopes and on through the wilted heath, blasted and browned by the Fire-Giant King's giant horn, and then on into the lands of Man, moving quickly past the dry and parched outlines of pools and ponds and muddy rivers that the Fire Giant's daughter had never been given to see. And then, just before the first lighting of rosy dawn, Othlarra heard a muffled roar like that of her father's hunting hellhounds, kept chained down in their stony pens. But before long this roar grew louder, and broader, and deeper, and it filled both her ears and her mind with wonderment as to its' source. And so, cresting one last final hillock, there suddenly spread before them the sea, the Ocean, endless and encompassing, glittering and sparkling in the morning sun and bedecked with an endless array of dancing waves, both white and blue in turn. And the roar of the surf echoed in her ears and in the beating of her giant heart, louder and louder, impossibly so.

And there on that shore, when the Fire-Giant King's youngest daughter beheld the immensity of that great trackless sea, she found herself overwhelmed and for the first time she cried, true tears of pure, glittering water. And she ran then uncontrollably into the crashing waves, unheeding of the warnings of Helm, and their cold embrace quenched her fiery skin but not her burning, passionate heart, and a great cloud of steam arose into the sky and of the Fire-Giant King's youngest daughter Othlarra there was no more. But as Helm upon the shore beheld in awe, the luminous cloud of steam continued to rise up and out over the sea, and its' voice was the voice of the Fire-Giant King's youngest daughter, singing and merry. And that is how the race of the Cloud-Giants was born on that day, though that in itself and what came after is a tale for another time.

And in the meanwhile, as this scene of wonder and joy was ongoing to the blue west, back atop the red remains of Fire Mountain the Fire-Giant King awoke from his nightly slumber, cold and damp and now without an eye. He rose himself and stumbled to his grey and dim and cooling courtyard to find his youngest daughter gone and his mighty hearth-fires dead and cold, with not so much as an ember left to en-lighten their depths. And no further effort of fire-giant, king or not, could re-light the hearth-fires, because a king with no power is not a king at all. And the Fire-Giant King of the Fire Mountain had no power, for Helm Fullsails held forfeit his great sparkling gem, and his hearth-fires lay dead and cold. And that is why from then on all the keepers of the Giantish hearth-fires were men, for it is now considered a great honor among the king's men to safeguard the Giant King's giant hearth, and to keep his fires burning.

And as for Helm Fullsails, he returned in triumph to Mighty Illusk and there he used the puissant enchantments of Fire-Giant King's great gem to green the land, and restore the rivers, and to fatten the livestock. And every morning thereafter for as long as he reigned, he would mount the battlements of his castle at first dawn, to gaze down upon the blue expanse of the Ocean, and to gaze up into the clear expanse of the sky, and to give salute to the great white clouds that floated past, in memory of the Fire-Giant King's youngest daughter, Othlarra.


AJA
YAFRP

Edited by - AJA on 23 Dec 2020 00:43:15
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sleyvas
Skilled Spell Strategist

USA
11815 Posts

Posted - 04 Jan 2020 :  06:22:36  Show Profile Send sleyvas a Private Message  Reply with Quote
can't read this right now, but responding so I see it tomorrow... looks interesting.

EDIT: Love the story of the plover and the moon, especially the part about their eggs looking like moon and especially the idea that the tears of Selune are mountains dragged into the sky.

I do love the story of the Fire Giant King's Daughter. Its going to be considered non-canon by most folks as shown (and of course, that's fine... its probably meant to be a bard's fancy), and if you permit me, I'd recommend one simple change. Instead of Cloud Giants, perhaps Fog Giants. Cloud Giants came from Annam. We have the idea that "fog giants" are the kin of cloud giants. What if the daughter met up with a cloud giant and fell in love with him (or became indebted to him and thus was required to become his wife, despite wanting to return to Helm Fullsails). Maybe he helped her return to physical form or somesuch, and their children became fog giants. Maybe when she turned to steam, she grew even larger (as steam expands), and this is the reason fog giants are so big. The bards don't need to know any of this back story, nor would they have to know the truth of the matter in regards the nature of the water that the daughter hit (i.e. maybe it was water blessed by Eldath or Umberlee or something similar).

That being said, I know that WotC just put forth a new origin for fog giants last month with Mordenkainen's Fiendish Folio (in which they're just cloud giants that fell on hard times).

Alavairthae, may your skill prevail

Phillip aka Sleyvas

Edited by - sleyvas on 04 Jan 2020 14:42:48
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AJA
Senior Scribe

USA
768 Posts

Posted - 04 Jan 2020 :  17:51:21  Show Profile Send AJA a Private Message  Reply with Quote

quote:
Originally posted by sleyvas
I do love the story of the Fire Giant King's Daughter. Its going to be considered non-canon by most folks as shown (and of course, that's fine... its probably meant to be a bard's fancy), and if you permit me, I'd recommend one simple change. Instead of Cloud Giants, perhaps Fog Giants. Cloud Giants came from Annam. We have the idea that "fog giants" are the kin of cloud giants.

Well, embellishing and adapting a tale is a proud tradition for as long as there have been tales, so I say no "permission" necessary.

But I don't think it really fits within the scope of this particular (as you correctly point out) bard's fancy ("Helm Fullsails" himself being a figment of Northern fireside tales and chapbook adventures). And it is a human story (the cloud giants, as you say, are quite fine with their own origin myths, and the fire giants certainly do not sing of it!), so I don't know if it would even ping on the giant's radar.

The other thing I think is that the imagery doesn't quite work for the story; in the framing of the tale Othlarra gains agency (she doesn't even have a name until she decides to start living her own life) and ends up transformed, free and happy, by her own decisions. Clouds are free and happy (just ask Bob Ross!), whereas fog is considered cold and damp, and earth-bound (because that's just how humans simplify things).


AJA
YAFRP
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