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sleyvas
Skilled Spell Strategist

USA
11839 Posts

Posted - 23 Sep 2022 :  15:57:42  Show Profile Send sleyvas a Private Message  Reply with Quote
quote:
Originally posted by AJA


And thus did Mintipur Moonsilver, who knows the old ways as well as any man living today, pen the ballad, The Bees of Summer, after a fireside reminisce with Baraevur, one melancholic night in the forest

But I can see you-
Your birch skin shinin' in the sun
You got your face all sticky and your sweet syrup on, baby
And I can tell you my love for you will still be strong
After the bees of summer have gone



Had to search your references, I see you've already had thoughts on Balador. I should have known )





Yeah, he makes a good "mentioned but not involved with" piece of the pantheon of the Metahel that I was playing with (which I use a lot of these references, including Relkath of the Yuir as well). It gives a reason for me to mix "Magni" who is Thor's son and a god of strength with "Magnar the Bear" listed in Demihuman Deities as a former being worshipped by the people of the Yuirwood long ago. Balador also makes a pretty good god of the urskan bearfolk that we've also put in Anchorome in the homebrew stuff for Anchorome between me and Seethyr.

BTW, love the idea of the poem... that's good. Kind of makes me think that this "mother of Balanis" that I just made up... maybe she should be from the Yuirwood?? Maybe a local spirit / fey / dryad of some sort from the area around Relkath's foot? Having an instance of Balador being attacked by the werewolf god, Varagor, and being aided by the demigod Magnaer.... who then falls in love with the daughter of Balador known as Balanis and taking her across the seas to the western lands. Of all the explanations for Magnaer periodically changing to a bear, I'm most in favor of "Balador mixed Magnaer's blood with that of Balanis to cure him of the curse of Varagor's bite, and thus the two were wed". So, it becomes a blessing that Balador used to help one who came to his aid.

for those who may be wondering what this is all about... shameless plug... a pay what you want on DM's Guild (you can drop me a penny... I don't care.... I just like sharing ideas)

https://www.dmsguild.com/product/363274/The-Metahel-Pantheon-of-Anchorome?filters=45469_0_0_0_0_0_0_0

Oh, and Balador's name for his love was.... Honey

Alavairthae, may your skill prevail

Phillip aka Sleyvas

Edited by - sleyvas on 23 Sep 2022 20:55:08
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AJA
Senior Scribe

USA
771 Posts

Posted - 09 Oct 2022 :  16:36:49  Show Profile Send AJA a Private Message  Reply with Quote

The Death-Callers (To Whom Tempus and Myrkul Answer)
'The Lords of War and Waste', 'The Armed Escorts To The Afterlife', 'Those Who Deliver Men To The Grave (But Do Not Bother To Bury Them)', etc etc. Competent and long-historied mercenary company, but boy oh boy do they love their pageantry. Native to the Chionthar River Valley, currently spend much of their time employed in the Shining Plains and the Deepwash. Elairuku of Thindol, who has quarters in Scornubel, is their closest official Speaker (contact), but Daria "the Hammer" has long-standing authorization to begin inquiries on their behalf for interested parties in Waterdeep and the North. Before battle the Death-Callers ceremonially march through great clouds of colored powders, decorating themselves in great streaks and clumps of garish colors; a blessing for the battle, and to ensure that their gods can find them and gather them up if they should fall on the field.

Jondul
An orphan of the Myratma slums. Sandy-haired, dusky-skinned, bright black eyes. Pock-marked cheeks, can't seem to manage any facial hair stronger than a wispy moustache. Can play the southern tandalus (a type of mandolin popular in Tethyr) and tell stories which people enjoy, but neither well enough to make a living at. Wandered the trade roads from south to north, graduating from petty thievery to riding guard on trade caravans, eventually winding up adrift in Waterdeep. He gave demonstration of his skill with a sword to Blazidon One-Eye (who was not terribly impressed), and now haunts Virgin's Square waiting for an offer; for mercenary work, for adventurers in need of a hireling, or for a caravan master seeking an outrider to come calling.
        A great believer in Ramsk the Elaqueated, a southern cult god (of freedom from the hangman's noose, and various other entanglements). Jondul always wears a ribbon kerchief around his neck, tied in an inside-out knot, a strong symbol of his faith.

Ondeir
High-ranking member of the Council of Musicians, Instrument-Makers, and Choristers. Speaker (contact) for a number of local musical hire-bands, including The Merry Players, The Stewed Hares, The Brandycakes, and The Flamerule Flautists. Does most of his contracts with the city guilds for their regular balls and festival-feasts, but is always on the lookout for a highcoin patron needing entertainment.

Orumbaer Huthdarr
Lord-in-exile of Rakylroost, a relatively insignificant holding on an isle off the Sword Coast. In the city seeking support to retake his domain from the pirates that seized it this past summer (that his three daughters are still in residence on the island and, by all accounts quite enjoying the company of these pirates, has lead some to wonder just how hostile this 'brigand invasion' actually was). Regardless, Lord Huthdarr is currently availing himself of the lodgings provided for him by his familys' traditional patrons, the nobles of House Lanngolyn (the Rakylrorst lordship was founded by a minor son of the Lanngolyns, and their arms still incorporate the design, the Lanngolyn seaworm-and-shell, thrice over fishing net on blue field).
        Rakylroost for ages was a beaching home for merulanth, the 'great-rowers' of the Ice Hunters (what sages classify as the lesser dragon-turtle, or a type of plesiosaur), on whose rocky shores they came to beach and sun and breed until one day they simply, suddenly, stopped coming. Men in the region had tried hunting them with limited success, but no one really believes that to be the reason why they disappeared. Regardless, after that humans quickly seized on it and made themselves a rough home. Aside from a paltry grazing stock of goat and sheep that often gets raided by passing coastal wyrms, the only industry of any type is a local fishing fleet that often pairs with or sells catch to the ships of House Lanngolyn.

Ramsk the Elaqueated
The Unhanged, The Unbeholden, The Free Man. An obscure cult god of those who escape (or are anticipating having to) the hangman's noose; propitiated by petty thieves and any others seeking to undo knots, chains and traps or free themselves from bondages (not only physical confinement, but emotional, relationship, obligations, etc.). His favored items are agate orbs of varying sizes (thumbnail to fist-sized), lengths of unbraided rope, snake heads, talba (a type of tambourine), hummingbirds, thimbles (finger coverings, of leather or metal), the ambletwist flower, the salt cedar tree, blackcaps (black raspberry), and burnt offerings of giblets, wing-ends, and necks of poultry.
        His main source of worship comes from the slums of Calimshan and the Lake of Steam despotats as well as certain caravan-towns in Amn, though in all these places he is steadily losing ground to the more powerful and well-known god Mask, whose faithful insist that the one is just an inferior name for the other, and pressure once-loyal followers for conversion.


AJA
YAFRP

Edited by - AJA on 19 Dec 2022 02:08:35
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AJA
Senior Scribe

USA
771 Posts

Posted - 23 Oct 2022 :  16:37:01  Show Profile Send AJA a Private Message  Reply with Quote

Springlebar the Blue
A rather lively young treant ('young' being a relative term here). Rash and quick to anger by the standards of his kind, 'invested with the bitter sap' of slain forebears (the beginnings of that root-rot which, left unchecked, often heads an ent down the cursed path to becoming a malevolent blackroot or gakarak). Haunts the darker depths of the High Forest, where there is the most sentinel work to be done but exposure to foul energies is also the greatest.
        Springlebar has long wielded the four antlers claimed by him from Narglyth and Nargash, the fiendish bull moose of two-headed Grelinor (who rode upon them in crude imitation of Tempus upon Veiros and Deiros, and who now flank him in the form of hulking goristro and hunger for the return of their stolen horns). They are gilded and cruelly razor-sharp, honed like the most wicked of scythes, and when enraged he is a horrifying force of nature, an implacable whirlwind of slashing blades and clubbing branches, blinding sprays of fir needles and entangling and whip-like knotted roots.

Suszaedra
A senior functionary at the House of Beauty. Now prefers her chosen faith-name of Faëthalda, or 'wonderful carving', after the sylph in the tale brought to life from ivory and amaranthine by the artificer Olordel. Current master of the Court of Roses (Sunite 'court' for women to bring discussion and divine judgement in matters of sexual relations, marital duties and domestic violence). Has small grey eyes, flawless ebony skin, and lengthy tresses of white-blonde hair. She often uses ostentatious shoe lifts and various upswept hairstyles to lengthen her natural four-foot-four frame. Constantly surrounded by heavy perfumes and the continual flash and sparkle of minor glim-magics.

Tarlantar
A senior functionary at the House of Beauty. Current master of the Court of Rods (Sunite 'court' for men to bring discussion and divine judgement in matters of sexual relations, marital duties and domestic violence). Was bred and trained to be a fetchcloak (a body double meant to draw the poisons, knives, and other misfortunes sent by rivals; trained in mimicry and the most impeccable noble manners; some have runes, in hidden places, able to fool divination magics) for the eldest son of Halthandrus Saerrentaun, patriarch of one of the most powerful merchant families of Irieabor, before the gentle hand of Sune awakened something more in him – a sense of true independence. He still bears a striking resemblance to the Saerrentaun heir, and is always aware that if they should become informed of his whereabouts he would be in danger, as the Saerrentauns still consider him their paid property, likely "defective" and an infiltration threat needing to be disposed of.

Thusk Thûlagund, Lord of Snarry Hall
A rising warlord of unknown provenance. Some say Luskan, some Ruathym, some guess him to be a rare success story – one of those hardbitten sellswords that wash up (and wash out) in the Ten Towns region actually making good. He has set himself up in the cold confines of Snarry Hall, crumbling and grim, a keep on an outcropping jutting over the north side of the Blackford Road where it crosses the frigid, south-running Black Raven River, that has been claimed, assaulted, and abandoned many times over the ages. He has also amassed a decent force of men-at-arms and bowmen and has so far managed to successfully hold against orc and Uthgardt raiders.
        The real surprise here is that he is not allied to Mirabar, but is more than willing to take the coin of their merchants in trade (and not by fiat or force) and this willingness has not only staved off assault by an armed Mirabaran expeditionary force, but also made his hold an increasingly regular resting-stop along the Blackford Road for caravans heading downstream towards Luskan. This goodwill is made especially apparent by the new palisaded caravan grounds currently under construction on the rocky shoreline below, where his chosen sigil (a line of three stars over a curved hunting horn, mouth to the left, from which emit three lines that end in upward-curls, representing the northern winds; field is ice-white over the dark blue of the Black Raven waters) flies over the stockades.
        One thing that is known about Thusk is that he currently wields Forked Lion, the great wicked military fork +2 (on the dark ashwood shaft are inset six bands of red-flecked black and there is a great golden mane encircling the base of the tines. This mane is commonly said to be captured from such notable figures as Red Lion or Nobanion, but in truth was harvested in bloody combat from the great fiend Azabluu The Red Rowel. It bristles outwards when enemies abound, and swims with tortured human and elven visages when at peace; visages – and foul, tempting whisperings – that only the wielder can see and hear, and can only percieve enough to make them question their own sanity). In combat the Fork can emit a great roar, a terrible rippling cone of force, 'that vengeance which is shouted beyond the farthest mountains', 1x/day (as the fleshshiver spell, see FOR6 The Seven Sisters). It also grants a bonus on saves vs. web or hold person spells, and can enlarge the wielder, also 1x/day.

Torst "Boldsong"
A stout, thick-bellied warrior skald from the northern Moonshaes. Receeding hairline, bears a long blonde braid and an equally long blonde moustache. Bellowing singing voice, wide grin that displays a number of missing teeth. Although they are virtually the same age, Torst proudly announces himself as the apprentice of Osk Blackalblade, the Tenatherien of the House of Heroes. Fights with the warhammer Orunhul, an enchanted weapon seized by his forefathers from the dwarves of Ruathym (when in battle, grants the wielder feelings of exhilaration [grants +1 to all fear-based saves, including dragonfear]. These feelings do not override common sense however, and a wielder deciding discretion is the better part of valor is free to retreat or flee of their own volition – of course, doing so will anger the spirit of the weapon and it may respond by refusing to grants its benefits, or even act as if it were cursed [-1 to attack rolls and all saving throws] for various lengths of time or until mollified).


AJA
YAFRP
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sleyvas
Skilled Spell Strategist

USA
11839 Posts

Posted - 24 Oct 2022 :  03:11:13  Show Profile Send sleyvas a Private Message  Reply with Quote
quote:
Originally posted by AJA

Springlebar the Blue
A rather lively young treant ('young' being a relative term here). Rash and quick to anger by the standards of his kind, 'invested with the bitter sap' of slain forebears (the beginnings of that root-rot which, left unchecked, often heads an ent down the cursed path to becoming a malevolent blackroot or gakarak). Haunts the darker depths of the High Forest, where there is the most sentinel work to be done but exposure to foul energies is also the greatest.
        Springlebar has long wielded the four antlers claimed by him from Narglyth and Nargash, the fiendish bull moose of two-headed Grelinor (who rode upon them in crude imitation of Tempus upon Veiros and Deiros, and who now flank him in the form of hulking goristro and hunger for the return of their stolen horns). They are gilded and cruelly razor-sharp, honed like the most wicked of scythes, and when enraged he is a horrifying force of nature, an implacable whirlwind of slashing blades and clubbing branches, blinding sprays of fir needles and entangling and whip-like knotted roots.




Although some forty-four feet tall, Springlebar is particularly "wiry" for a treant, with a "body" that is little more than two foot wide at its widest spots. He has numerous limbs covered in blue, gleaming, multipointed leaves, for he is in fact a treant born of a blueleaf tree rather than the more traditional oak, maple, ash, weirwood, shadowtop, ironwood, duskwood, and phandar. Some say Springlebar was seedspawned in the dire wood and fed upon the waters of the Heartblood river in his early years. They even say that his parent tree sits petrified as a result of the actions of Jhingleshod the Axeman in killing the foul wizard Wulgreth at Karsus Butte, and that to this day Springlebar seeks knowledge of transformative magics that might free his parent tree from its undying death. Growing up in the High Forest, Springlebar found himself friends with and working with elves to defend the forest from the depradations of orcs and humans. It was also in working with the elves that he was introduced to the Eldreth Veluuthra, an organization that believe that the humans of the world were nothing more than vermin who could not be trusted. It was while aiding the elves against the depradations of Grelinor of Hellgate Keep that Springlebar was forced to slay the monstrous bull moose, Narglyth and Nargash.

Rare for his kind, Springlebar is one of the most widely travelled of all treants. This is because he is a druid, formerly of Lurue, of more than modest skill, but also because he feels a strong need to restore the damage caused by human wizards upon his home in the name of their own arrogance. It's believed he has visited Yggdrasil's Child on the island of Ruathym, and that he found the scarring of such a wonder with runes of power to be a grave sin once again in the name of mankind's arrogance. He befriended the kercpa who lived near the great tree, and he vowed to come to their aid should they ever need to defend the tree from those who would seek to disfigure it in the name of personal power.

Its believed that he spent several decades living amongst the volodni, former humans who embraced a transformation into a tree-like form after their own corrupt, demon worshipping society fell apart. It was a result of this interaction that made him begin to feel that humanity might have a chance of redeeming themselves, and he even began to work with the druids of the Circle of Leth. Some say that the secrets of turning bluewood into material as strong as iron came from his work with the volodni to try and find an alchemical method of reversing the petrification of his parent tree.

Springlebar's change in attitude can be traced back to his accompanying of Araluen, an aspect of Lurue that appeared to him amongst the volodni and requested his aid against a threat posed by the Rotting Man. Unfortunately for both Araluen and Springlebar, the Rotting Man was more powerful than either of them knew. Working together with his blightlords, the Rotting Man absorbed the light of Araluen, and cast a spell which destroyed the hope within Springlebar's heart. Springlebar has since turned once again to his allies amongst the Eldreath Veluuthra, and he has even left the worship of Lurue for the worship of an elven deity, Fenmarel Mestarine. While he has not actively sought to kill humans, he has become a staunch defender of the High Forest from the depredations of humanity, and he has increasingly become a "lone wolf" amongst his fellow treants and become increasingly reactive against any threat to the safety of the wildlands. It's thought by some that a follower of Lurue may be able to restore his heart's gladness, but the truth of the matter is yet to be seen.

Alavairthae, may your skill prevail

Phillip aka Sleyvas
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AJA
Senior Scribe

USA
771 Posts

Posted - 24 Oct 2022 :  04:50:26  Show Profile Send AJA a Private Message  Reply with Quote
quote:
Originally posted by sleyvas
He has numerous limbs covered in blue, gleaming, multipointed leaves, for he is in fact a treant born of a blueleaf tree

I was going with a blue spruce, but this works, too. I'll have to read through the rest of your post in depth tomorrow. In the meantime, random converse at the Sunite courts of Rods and Roses:

"my wife is an adventurer and she constantly brings her collection of 10' pole-arms to bed and its making me feel inadequate!"

"my husband is a sea-elf animal-master and he keeps pressuring me, saying he wants to include his octopus familiar in our bedchamber activities. He says Sashelas insists, but I'm not comfortable with that!"

"my wife comes from a farmhouse blessed by the fae-folk and she lazes about all day and refuses to do any chores, or even darn my hose! When I confront her, she just waves dismissively and says, 'oh, I'm sure the brownies will take care of it tonight while we sleep'! How can I convince her to stop leaving bowls of milk on the stoop for me to step on, and start contributing around the house?"

"so I was dating this guy, great guy, super fun, but he turned out to be three kobolds in a trenchcoat, and now I'm pregnant and I need Sune's help to find out which one is the father of my baby!"


AJA
YAFRP
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sleyvas
Skilled Spell Strategist

USA
11839 Posts

Posted - 24 Oct 2022 :  18:25:50  Show Profile Send sleyvas a Private Message  Reply with Quote
quote:
Originally posted by AJA

quote:
Originally posted by sleyvas
He has numerous limbs covered in blue, gleaming, multipointed leaves, for he is in fact a treant born of a blueleaf tree

I was going with a blue spruce, but this works, too. I'll have to read through the rest of your post in depth tomorrow. In the meantime, random converse at the Sunite courts of Rods and Roses:

"my wife is an adventurer and she constantly brings her collection of 10' pole-arms to bed and its making me feel inadequate!"

"my husband is a sea-elf animal-master and he keeps pressuring me, saying he wants to include his octopus familiar in our bedchamber activities. He says Sashelas insists, but I'm not comfortable with that!"

"my wife comes from a farmhouse blessed by the fae-folk and she lazes about all day and refuses to do any chores, or even darn my hose! When I confront her, she just waves dismissively and says, 'oh, I'm sure the brownies will take care of it tonight while we sleep'! How can I convince her to stop leaving bowls of milk on the stoop for me to step on, and start contributing around the house?"

"so I was dating this guy, great guy, super fun, but he turned out to be three kobolds in a trenchcoat, and now I'm pregnant and I need Sune's help to find out which one is the father of my baby!"





Lol, someone watched "The Boys" on Prime.


Alavairthae, may your skill prevail

Phillip aka Sleyvas
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AJA
Senior Scribe

USA
771 Posts

Posted - 25 Oct 2022 :  06:15:11  Show Profile Send AJA a Private Message  Reply with Quote

quote:
Originally posted by sleyvas
Lol, someone watched "The Boys" on Prime.

Maaril Dragonmage, perched on top of his tower, staff in hand, repeating to himself that he can do whatever he wants.

quote:
Originally posted by sleyvas
Some say Springlebar was seedspawned in the dire wood and fed upon the waters of the Heartblood river in his early years.

I definitely like a lot of your early backstory here. I like the Eldreth Veluuthra working to bring in and turn treants to their cause.

quote:
Originally posted by sleyvas
It's believed he has visited Yggdrasil's Child on the island of Ruathym, and that he found the scarring of such a wonder with runes of power to be a grave sin once again in the name of mankind's arrogance.

Hmm….I've got another treant who has runes 'graven' (carved) on it by mages of power to invest it in defense of the forest…another point of disagreement between factions.


AJA
YAFRP
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George Krashos
Master of Realmslore

Australia
6667 Posts

Posted - 25 Oct 2022 :  08:11:39  Show Profile Send George Krashos a Private Message  Reply with Quote
I'm intrigued how a treant of the High Forest can visit the isle of Ruathym. Although I suppose he could have floated on the ocean currents.

-- George Krashos

"Because only we, contrary to the barbarians, never count the enemy in battle." -- Aeschylus
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sleyvas
Skilled Spell Strategist

USA
11839 Posts

Posted - 25 Oct 2022 :  20:45:41  Show Profile Send sleyvas a Private Message  Reply with Quote
quote:
Originally posted by George Krashos

I'm intrigued how a treant of the High Forest can visit the isle of Ruathym. Although I suppose he could have floated on the ocean currents.

-- George Krashos



Easy.... transport via plants. You must have "seen or touched" the destination large or larger plant. For a treant druid, scrying is a viable option and the spell is one which is druidic. So, I picture this "skinny" blueleaf treant (because blueleaf trees are thinner and more bendy) traversing through various giant trees around the realms.

I was very close to writing up that he's visited the site I created in Anchorome that I named Raelkath's Sprout in the Adusgi forest via Relkath's Foot in the Yuirwood, but I figured I was taking it a bit far then.

Alavairthae, may your skill prevail

Phillip aka Sleyvas
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sleyvas
Skilled Spell Strategist

USA
11839 Posts

Posted - 25 Oct 2022 :  20:56:04  Show Profile Send sleyvas a Private Message  Reply with Quote
quote:
Originally posted by AJA


quote:
Originally posted by sleyvas
Lol, someone watched "The Boys" on Prime.

Maaril Dragonmage, perched on top of his tower, staff in hand, repeating to himself that he can do whatever he wants.

quote:
Originally posted by sleyvas
Some say Springlebar was seedspawned in the dire wood and fed upon the waters of the Heartblood river in his early years.

I definitely like a lot of your early backstory here. I like the Eldreth Veluuthra working to bring in and turn treants to their cause.

quote:
Originally posted by sleyvas
It's believed he has visited Yggdrasil's Child on the island of Ruathym, and that he found the scarring of such a wonder with runes of power to be a grave sin once again in the name of mankind's arrogance.

Hmm….I've got another treant who has runes 'graven' (carved) on it by mages of power to invest it in defense of the forest…another point of disagreement between factions.






Yeah, I picture both elves and treants are long lived races, both in the forest, and both very mad at what humans did to create the dire wood AND Hellgate Keep. I also liked the idea that he ran across some descendants of humans who had become the pinefolk/volodni as a result of yet another group of humans who got involved with fiends (i.e. the Nars). So, he might have started to feel that "maybe humans aren't all bad, and maybe we can teach them".... and then enter the Rotting Man and the Talontar Blightlords who attack an aspect of Lurue and the treant too.

With his ability to walk to different forests via trees, he could be a very powerful ally to the Eldreth Veluuthra who wades in, animates a bunch of trees, and then uses his druidic abilities in interesting ways (melding into stone, etc...) to make it hard to find him and/or to escape easily.

Sidenote: the fiendish bull moose Narglyth and Nargash that you created.... I kind of picture them as fiend spawn... as in a demon of Hellgate Keep spawned them on a Torilian Moose Cow.... and since I created giant moose over in Anchorome, I'm picturing the moose cow as having been acquired from there somehow. So, this treant may have a hatred of demonkind, and even moreso a hatred of them corrupting innocent animals. He may have kept their horns as a reminder of the corruption of demonkind.

I was also considering using the giant moose for the tie in to Anchorome and Raelkath's Sprout, that perhaps the treant had BROUGHT the moose cow to Faerun, and it had been stolen by denizens of Hellgate Keep. So then this treant would feel responsible for the creation of demonspawned giant moose children being used as mounts by a demon.

More on giant moose and Raelkath's Sprout in Anchorome can be found in my "pay what you want" article at DMs Guild The Influence of the Amber Dragons of Anchorome on the North ... again, I'm more interested in sharing, so drop me a penny or whatever... I don't care. I only use the profits to buy other people's stuff.

https://www.dmsguild.com/product/384365/The-Influence-of-the-Amber-Dragons-of-Anchorome-on-the-North

In that, I also had an NPC based on American tales of Paul Bunyan the giant lumberjack and his companion "Babe the Blue Ox". He's a "verbolgkyn"... my mix of verbeeg, firbolg, and voadkyn... name Ral Banyun with his giant moose companion "Baeg the Bloommoose"... a special giant moose.

Oh, as a final thought: "two headed Grelinor" .... I don't know why, but the idea of a "Fell Troll" (two headed giant sized troll) mating with a Mur-zhagul (troll demon crossbreed) seems like a great story for him.

Anyway, as always, I thank you for the initial inspiration. I never would have come up with it without reading your entry and trying to figure out a way to spin it. If it can turn an NPC with a little more background into something more interesting, then it enhances the world for us all.

Alavairthae, may your skill prevail

Phillip aka Sleyvas

Edited by - sleyvas on 25 Oct 2022 23:26:47
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sleyvas
Skilled Spell Strategist

USA
11839 Posts

Posted - 26 Oct 2022 :  02:42:37  Show Profile Send sleyvas a Private Message  Reply with Quote
From the Private Diary of Jillian Doncastle

The Court of Roses was abuzz with more activity than a hive of bees today, and perhaps just as angry as one as well. Ebony skinned Suszaedra herself was seen to be ordering acolytes and temple guards to bring her armor, weapons, and fetch her scrolls, wands, and adventurers for hire. At one time, she was even seen addressing Tarlantar, master of the Court of Rods, with a fire in her cold grey eyes that would have surely placed fear in the heart of the undead.

It all started in the courtyard of the cherries, an apt name for the small temple garden which holds four rather large cherry trees, when a veiled nymph and a blue leaved treant stepped OUT of a cherry tree. Even more shocking was that the treant promptly removed its reduction effect and grew to a full forty feet in height. The young Sunites who had been busily picking the harvest of cherry blossoms in order to make perfumes were too astonished to do more than stare dumbfounded. But the angry rumblings of the animate tree quickly drew the attention of the white haired priestess, Suszaedra, and her initially calm demeanor was infectious to the treant, known as Springlebar the Blue, and soon enough the nymph, Amalaya, was explaining their explosive entrance.

In the harbor of Waterdeep sat a ship, The Syl-pasha's Satisfaction, bound for Calimshan. It was unfortunately flying a different flag and it had taken on a new name when entering the city, a name that was unknown to both the nymph and the treant. But the name was less important than what was held in the cargo hold of this vessel. Its captain, a ship's wizard of some skill, had found a very special grove of blue trees and grass east of Leilon, known to some as the Place of the Unicorn. Though he dared not commit his acts of evil in the heart of this grove, on the outskirts of it he found a pair of budding young apple trees with a secret. They each held the spirit of a pubescent dryad, and soon enough using his elemental magics, he had transferred their trees to great pots. The vile wizard planned to sell the flowering females for great profit in his homeland, where the fey would be kept as pleasure slaves in the service of powerful men.

Naturally the temple of Sune was quick to offer their aid, and through their contacts in brothels throughout the city, they quickly uncovered the location of the ship in question. They descended upon the docks with a fury, but even their anger was drowned by the furious rumblings of Springlebar the Blue. Giant, gold edged moose horns were whipped savagely at the doors by his limbs, ripping them from their hinges so that Suszaedra and her priests could enter its hold and rescue not only the young dryads, but apparently over two dozen of the tiny fey known as petals. The wild tree's anger knew no bounds, and after the victims were removed to safety, he literally tore the ship to splinters, weeping for the trees which had died in order to create this vehicle of evil.

Where exactly the fey went to after their escape is something that this reporter knows, but I have no intent to reveal. While some whisper that the treant went overboard and caused damage to the docks and even some surrounding ships, I feel like I understand his anger. If I had his raw power, I half wonder if I might not have acted similar myself. The one thing that this experience has definitely taught me is that the bounds of depravity of Calishite nobility are unknown, and they sicken me. They have the audacity to call themselves more civilized than we northerners from Neverwinter and Waterdeep, but if that's what they consider civilization, they can keep it. Deneir forgive me my judgmental ways, but I was raised a Doncastle of Neverwinter, and I know what true honor is.

Lady Jillian Doncastle, wizard, Deneirrath, reporter, detective for hire, and defender of the defenseless


Goodsir Sleyvas, you asked me to tell you of your daughter in law, because you would know the woman who has born your grandchildren. I submit this copy of an excerpt from her diary as an example of her nature. You will note that she makes no mention of her own endeavours in uncovering the whereabouts of this vile ship and its crew, and she gives all the credit to "contacts within the brothels". You asked why I, a simple sentient sai, have chosen to devote myself to her aid, and I tell you its because she aims to do what's right. If you truly seek to make amends for the sins of your own dark past, you would do well to help her as well, for she is truly a good soul, if a little bookish and shy at times.

Your friend and confidant,
Lorey Hisstory



Alavairthae, may your skill prevail

Phillip aka Sleyvas
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AJA
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Posted - 26 Oct 2022 :  04:10:45  Show Profile Send AJA a Private Message  Reply with Quote

Transport via plants was my first thought as well.

quote:
Originally posted by sleyvas
The wild tree's anger knew no bounds, and after the victims were removed to safety, he literally tore the ship to splinters, weeping for the trees which had died in order to create this vehicle of evil.

Missed opportunity. He should have commandeered the ship, sailed it straight to Ruathym. Would've saved a spell slot.

quote:
Originally posted by sleyvas
Oh, as a final thought: "two headed Grelinor" .... I don't know why, but the idea of a "Fell Troll" (two headed giant sized troll) mating with a Mur-zhagul (troll demon crossbreed) seems like a great story for him.

Grelinor is canon, as the (two-headed) aspect of the hill giant god Grolantor, that is venerated by ettins (see Ed's "Duh 'cology of Duh Ettin!" – Dragon #92, among others). Narglyth and Nargash and the part about riding them in imitation of Tempus and the rest was made up by me.

quote:
Originally posted by George Krashos
I'm intrigued how a treant of the High Forest can visit the isle of Ruathym. Although I suppose he could have floated on the ocean currents.

Oh hey, I had one of those!
quote:
Originally posted back on 29 Nov 2020

Shaltana Blackdolphin
The Bloody Black Lady of the Waves. The last self-appointed queen of the southern Sea Reavers. Her depredations reached their height in the summer of 1324DR, when the ships under her command encircled and attacked the floating realm-ship of Thardargha, slaughtering its' Eldathyn inhabitants and burning the waterborne abbey to the waterline. It is widely believed that The Blackdolphin still rides the sea waves to this day, as the Master of a ghost ship full of spectral wights sponsored by the Bitch-Queen Umberlee.



quote:
Originally posted back on 29 Nov 2020

Kentinal has it correct as a floating temple or abbey. A number of concentric "rings," linked by arched bridges; one of fruit trees, one of small food-and-herb gardens, and the innermost section a tiered circle of cells and vaults and libraries, and up through them all a great tree whose canopy towers over, providing shade. Two great scalene triangle "sails" curving up on either side of the outer ring, providing movement (powered by wind and devotion and hymn, "steered" by the roots of the great tree, which extend below the water like a series of rudders).

This tree, called Naedauthra by the Eldathyn, drew salt out of the seawater which is why it's leaves were white. And why its sap tasted like (and, after a little massaging by the clerics, had the consistency of) saltwater taffy. Naedauthra was said to have been a sapling of Druskhath the Steadfast Spire, one of The Four Splinders, the four surviving branches of Nelebrimmaur, the First Ent, sundered and quartered by Bahgtru during the War of Elf and Orc. Rumor has it that a similar seedling of Naedauthra was spirited off the doomed abbey (by priest or reaver changes with the telling); such a lesser essence would be too weak to work such floating wonders as its parent, but would still be of great sorcerous value nonetheless.

The "hull" of the abbey was formed of spell-toughened and element-resistant woods and, while it did indeed sink under the waves, it now forms the basis of quite the lovely coral-and-kelp garden on the seabed below (E'ean Andeledreth, "where the waters flame with glimmering golden light, and all of Trishina's mirthful children dance and sing"). The local sea elves maintain it in honor of the goddess and keep it as a safe refuge for a multitude of schools of flashing iridescent fish native to the Shining Sea, and as a safe-meeting place for the less vicious underwater races. The long, purple-green seaweed harvested here by the sea elves is also one of the primary sources of the ardth-weed of Tharsult, from which blows smoke green and pungent, brought to shore in trade and sun-dried in lattices and roof canopies across the city and farmsteads of Nlintar, on the south-western shore of that island.





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sleyvas
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Posted - 26 Oct 2022 :  21:12:29  Show Profile Send sleyvas a Private Message  Reply with Quote
Ok, I was wondering if Grelinor was an already described being. That's partly why I didn't describe him and instead gave an option. I figured too that you made up the two moose, so they'd be safe to kinda mess with. I would NOT have pegged him to be an ettin aspect of Grolantor though.... interesting, didn't know Ed did that. Now I'm even more interested in a story that maybe involves my "verbolgkyn" Ral Banyun and "Baeg the Bloommoose" working with this treant to put down some demon-blooded offspring of giant moose imported from Anchorome. Throw in an amber dragon of Anchorome coming with them and it can be a party. Probably will never write it up, but sometimes its just fun to imagine in the brain.

Alavairthae, may your skill prevail

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Dunlon Dalestin, Lord Wizard Emissary of Iriaebor
Dunlon’s duties as the Guardian Wizards' Lord Wizard Emissary takes him all over the Sword Coast and Western Heartlands. He is clean-shaven with fair skin, light-blue eyes, and curly black hair. He is slightly taller than average with an average build. He typically wears a white, heartland silk shirt, black leather breeks, and deep-red leather boots that is topped off with the knee-length, royal blue robe of the Guardian Wizards. No matter what he was wearing, he would always have his yellow gem-inlayed, amber metal headband, blueshined Guardian Wizards bracers, and a gnarled cane with polished steel endcaps (actually a gnome-sized staff of power).

He is from a small, sheep ranch 5 miles southwest of Scornubel. It was one of the trips to town with his dad to sell wool that he chanced to meet Chansrin Aluar. She recognized his potential for The Art and started teaching him whenever he had the chance. Eventually, he was able to assist her while she gave assistance to the watch. On one of these times, he was captured by some illithids along with some other humans. They were taken into The Underdark and were heading for a grisly end when the illithids were killed by a drow mage of no small power named Rhylzaer Hun'arn. He was taken by the mage for experimentation to his tower where he was rescued by a group of adventurers. He is an only child.

"Iriaebor is a fine city. So what if you can have violence between merchant groups break out at any moment. Not every city can offer dinner AND a show."

My FR writeups - http://www.mediafire.com/folder/um3liz6tqsf5n/Documents
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Posted - 05 Nov 2022 :  19:21:38  Show Profile Send AJA a Private Message  Reply with Quote

Full disclosure – as I was working on the write-up for Tarlantar, the final addition was the fetchcloak back story, taken from a single stand-alone sentence I had written sometime previously. I needed a person powerful or rich enough (or both) to warrant such a protection, so I started pulling random names out of random pages (or tweets in this case). Halthandrus Saerrentaun.

And I thought to myself, "well, that's rather esoteric. But I bet if TheIriaeban sees this, they'll know exactly where I got it from."
quote:
Originally posted by TheIriaeban
Dunlon’s duties as the Guardian Wizards' Lord Wizard Emissary takes him all over the Sword Coast and Western Heartlands.

Would you be able to give a brief idea of what duties the Guardian Wizards' Lord Wizard Emissary would carry out in Waterdeep? Or some of the people or groups they would conference with in the city?


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


Also, an unrelated bit of housekeeping –
for those who read the Orumbaer Huthdarr entry from 09 Oct 2022, there is not a typo;

'Rakylroost' is the island and the town, 'Rakylrorst' is the lordship and the castle.

In addition, 'Huthdarr' is a hereditary honorific in a Northman fashion, formed by taking the name of an important individual (in this case Huth Lanngolyn, the aforementioned 'minor son') and appending it with the patronym '-darr', a linguistic variant (the Northmen have several) meaning 'blood of' or 'house of'.

The matronym is, of course, '-damm' (pronounced DAHM, not DAMN)


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sleyvas
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Posted - 07 Nov 2022 :  23:19:27  Show Profile Send sleyvas a Private Message  Reply with Quote
quote:
Originally posted by AJA


In addition, 'Huthdarr' is a hereditary honorific in a Northman fashion, formed by taking the name of an important individual (in this case Huth Lanngolyn, the aforementioned 'minor son') and appending it with the patronym '-darr', a linguistic variant (the Northmen have several) meaning 'blood of' or 'house of'.

The matronym is, of course, '-damm' (pronounced DAHM, not DAMN)





More out of curiosity, does this come from something? I like the idea, and I want to say we've had some northmen doing the earth type fashion of "Haroldson" or sometimes "Haroldsun" .... along with dottir for a daughter. I know that some giants were using dottir (I forget her name, but one semi-major NPC).

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AJA
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Posted - 09 Nov 2022 :  23:16:16  Show Profile Send AJA a Private Message  Reply with Quote
quote:
Originally posted by sleyvas
More out of curiosity, does this come from something? I like the idea, and I want to say we've had some northmen doing the earth type fashion of "Haroldson" or sometimes "Haroldsun" .... along with dottir for a daughter. I know that some giants were using dottir (I forget her name, but one semi-major NPC).

No, it just came from me trying to reconcile why I had an NPC surnamed 'Huthdarr' when they came from a family named 'Rackylrorst'. The real-world 'Haraldson' and such was absolutely 100% the inspiration. Luckily, -darr seems to lend itself well to being added onto other names . And in setting the lords and ladies of Rackylroost come from Waterdeep, not Ruathym, but they've always been major posers, and so they adopted it in effort to present themselves as a line of fearsome sea-faring warriors, as found on the other isles of the Trackless Sea.

(I also went back and forth a number of times over whether I preferred 'Rackylrorst' or 'Rackylroost', before deciding to use both, and worked backwards from there to come up with an explanation for that).


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sleyvas
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Posted - 10 Nov 2022 :  23:49:42  Show Profile Send sleyvas a Private Message  Reply with Quote
quote:
Originally posted by AJA

quote:
Originally posted by sleyvas
More out of curiosity, does this come from something? I like the idea, and I want to say we've had some northmen doing the earth type fashion of "Haroldson" or sometimes "Haroldsun" .... along with dottir for a daughter. I know that some giants were using dottir (I forget her name, but one semi-major NPC).

No, it just came from me trying to reconcile why I had an NPC surnamed 'Huthdarr' when they came from a family named 'Rackylrorst'. The real-world 'Haraldson' and such was absolutely 100% the inspiration. Luckily, -darr seems to lend itself well to being added onto other names . And in setting the lords and ladies of Rackylroost come from Waterdeep, not Ruathym, but they've always been major posers, and so they adopted it in effort to present themselves as a line of fearsome sea-faring warriors, as found on the other isles of the Trackless Sea.

(I also went back and forth a number of times over whether I preferred 'Rackylrorst' or 'Rackylroost', before deciding to use both, and worked backwards from there to come up with an explanation for that).





I will add, I like the idea of DAHM for the end of feminine versions. It "looks" more right to me somehow.

Alavairthae, may your skill prevail

Phillip aka Sleyvas
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AJA
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Posted - 13 Nov 2022 :  23:23:00  Show Profile Send AJA a Private Message  Reply with Quote

Elphryn (ELF-rin)
Soft-spoken, intelligent, observant. Expressive black eyes and thick black hair curled in waves. Once spent seven summers in the Ardeep assuming the shape of the stump of a fir tree, quietly contemplating the ways of the trees and the moss and the snow on the ground. Now serves as proxy of the Hidden Lord Deliah the White and her assets in Silverymoon and the Marches (via contacts within the Silverglen and the Temple of Silver Stars), by means of the great grey owl Launilvar, who swoops in on a pre-arranged schedule. These comings and goings are neither subtle nor unnoticed, but explained away easily enough as receiving rare herbs and poultices from a circle in the High Forest, as part of the business he does with several alchemists and naturalists in the city (including his primary pass-along contact, the gnome Wllenra Wyvernsnout, of Wllenra's Boils and Bubblings on Slop Street).
        Elphryn despises the close, damp, clutching interiors of the city, and so he keep quarters at the Nightgate House (The Gleam and Glance), the out-wall inn and tankard house built precisely as far from the North Gate as the Lords' Reach allows, where he can sleep free from the overwhelming press of humanity – and Launilvar in turn can converse with the night swarms of noisy silverns and great blue-duns that come to visit over the fields, furthering a separate agenda that Elphryn is not privy to, but often wonders about.

Haelgoss Llaskhorn
The Rurelkorr (High Runecarver) of the House of Heroes. Also known as the Keeper of the Old Ways and the Carver of the Weave. The modern church of Tempus has little use for the ancient Art of runecasting but in the North, Northman culture and the Old Weirds still survive and as such so does the office of Rurelkorr. Responsible for co-ordinating duties with the Keeper of Doors and for ritually opening the temple every morning at wakefast (that time period centered on 5a.m.); for inscribing runic protections upon the shields and armor (and, in keeping with ancient tradition, forehead or sword-arm) of proven champions of the faith; and for officiating the holy days of Naumbera (Word-Glory), Skalluth (Shield-Bindings), and Darromath (Sword-Cleansings).

Phendelmoss (FENDEL-moss)
Gnomish native of South Ward. Calls himself a 'flame alchemist', but his only real talent seems to be setting various alcoholic drinks on fire before ingesting them. Instead, he makes a living spotting those newly-arrived to the city and offering to escort them through the dangers and curiosities around them ("a thrilling tale and a sobering caution, all for the meager price of a silver or two"). You know, that one cobble on Grocer's Lane that turns one into a horned toad if stepped upon at midnight on Tultavvan's Day, and that one shadow under the window of the red-shingled house down from old Heftul's cobblery that is always there rain or shine, that transports unaware squatters to a far rock on the far shore of a far ocean – and of course, the dangers and delights of The Hopping Helm and The Deadman's Wick, Jella's Dancing Ghost, The Clatterer of Cutlery, and the Cobble Creeper and the Hanging Signboard, and so on and so forth. If his continuing stream of nonsense doesn't pan out he then volunteers to simply carry a torch or lantern for them during their nighttime excursions...for the meager price of a copper or two, of course.

The Sword Sages
('the Sword, and only the Sword, shapes the world', foremost doctrine of The Lord of Battle) The Inerrable Order of Sages of the Holy Sword and The Heralds of Martial Valor. Lay followers of the Whisperers (see below), debate at great length over which fallen warriors are great or heroic enough to be included within the Cantillated Rolls of the Holy. Also write glowing histories and eulogies of such individuals, and disseminate them out to temple-affiliated bards and sages. The Waterdhavian temple offices of Bright Horn and Tenatherian are traditionally drawn from this order.

The Whisperers and the Thunders
('lay a sword on my grave and pray in my name, for I have fought true', Authanja the White Arm, First Swordmaid of the Lord of Battle) Tempusan sect, cloistered in the Hall of Heroes, continually chants the names of fallen faithful and great heroes (otherwise known as the Cantillated Rolls of the Holy). Their intonations are usually at a low sonorous drone (hence, 'The Whisperers'), but may – suddenly and with divinely-inspired precision – rise to a great roaring ('The Thunders') when a glorious battle is imminent or occurring elsewhere in Faerûn. It is known that circles of such priests are necessary when a grand resurrection ceremony is attempted for a member of the faith. They have also presented great Words of Power upon occasion, defeating massed foes or would-be temple plunderers. The Waterdhavian temple office of Hamaeroch is drawn from this order.


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The Fellowship of the Lucky Falls (of Fortune)
A former adventuring company of minor note. The Lucky Falls found six chestfuls of gold and silver under the floorboards of Bonecrusher's Mill, the ruined old millhouse west of Red Larch where the goblin servants of the ogre Bonecrusher once ground the bones of unfortunate travellers to make his bread (Bonecrusher was descended of Lorog, one of the "Ten Tyrants," ten ogres who captured the town of Triboar in the wake of the Orcfastings War and reigned there for a time, demanding two pig or sheep for each every night, and making the poor villagers play instruments and their daughters dance for them until fingers and feet were worked to the bone).
        The fellowship rode high off of this fame for a time, until a series of misfortunes in the Elder Thistles and the Mere of Dead Men saw them fall apart through attrition and infighting. Only the cavalier Urmyth Caskantalar, the bladesman Gost Thaunharp, and the bard Elyrid Llaryn are currently known to remain in Waterdeep and environs.

Urmyth Caskantalar (Cass-CANT-alar)
The former leader of the Fellowship of the Lucky Falls (of Fortune), a now-disbanded adventuring company. The Lucky Falls found six chestfuls of gold and silver under the floorboards of Bonecrusher's Mill, the ruined old millhouse west of Red Larch. They returned four of those chests to the people of Triboar, who were so grateful in return that they gifted Urmyth personally the masterful spear Tamlusk ('which augurs nothing but bloodshed and death', once wielded by the foremost of the "Ten Tyrants"), and a spirited roan warhorse which he named Saraskar and still rides today.
        Urmyth was adopted into the Caskantalar family of Triboar as a youth, after his parents and elder siblings were slain by orc attack (a regrettably common arrangement in the more deadly regions of the Realms). It was there that he was taught to wield a sword and to ride, and to fight effectively on horseback, skills he put to use as a senior officer of the Triboarran militia for some time until he left for Waterdeep and adventuring fame.
        Now out of work and out of sorts, haunting the seedier taverns of the city and on the lookout for a new group of adventurers (and a new round of glory!) to join.

Bembrel Ripplewove
Gnomish former member of the Fellowship of the Lucky Falls (of Fortune), an adventuring company of some minor fame. At the end of his time in the Lucky Falls, Bembrel fell under the sway of a circle of Moander-stained algoids in the Mere of Dead Men. He was seized and drowned, and anointed in golden algae and crowned with bog-myrtle, and raised anew as a servitor of the Shambling Rot, to walk among Men and thereby spread the seed of Moander. He is currently active in the Undermountain and the Deep Ways of Skullport, in an ambitious scheme to corrupt and enslave the beholder known as the Xanathar, and to turn its' network of operatives in the city above towards Moander's aims.
        Dead, glassy eyes which see all but never seem to focus on any one thing. Smells like loam and acrid sweat. His lower chest cavity, which he takes great care to conceal under several layers of flowing and protective clothing, is a great gaping wound from which spills out throbbing, luminescent fungi. Can use the spores and putrescence from these innards in ineffable ceremony to raise up the dead as his servitors (akin to ju-ju zombies). He does not bleed or tire, and has surprising resistance to fire and flame of all manner. Retains the abilities he had in life, as an accomplished thief and illusionist. He has been assured by the Voice of the Shimmering Stagnancy itself that one day, if his efforts are true, a thing of pileus and mycelia, of spreading, iridescent, gossamer-like questing filaments, and foul and ever-spreading black spores, will be born from within him, his continuing rebirth into eternal life.

Gilgrae (JILL-grey) Shaleshoe
"Lady Master of Lure and Illusion and the Sleighted Arts of Concealment and Confusion." A sparkling, cheerful, ever-talkative whirlwind of a gnome. A former member of the Fellowship of the Lucky Falls (of Fortune), an ill-favored adventuring fellowship. Gilgrae took a different path than her companions in the Tower of Nonsuch, deep in the Elder Thistles, and found herself disappeared into the extra-planar realm of Eftsoons. Her fate after that is unrecorded, though her companions mourn her as lost and her death has been entered into the rolls of the City of the Dead.

The Deadman's Marsh-Weird
Deadly haunting of the Mere of Dead Men. A threadbare axe-man whose ghostly lanthorns dazzle travellers' eyes, and leads them stumbling astray into the nearby waiting marsh. If this iridiated hypnosis has no effect, the bone-handled woodaxe slung on his back may instead. The bard Elyrid Llaryn once claimed that he was able to win a victory against the Weird by engaging it in a riddling contest of truth and falsehoods, but it's probably best to just run if met, or to avoid the outskirts of the Mere at twilight altogether.


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

The Elder Thistles
They are as they sound; a part of Faerûn that was old when Uthtower was young, and which refused to change when the Mere came into being. Unfortunately, they could not fully resist the dark energies unleashed and so became mazy, and dark and resentful, tangled home for those fey who would have otherwise drowned and were likewise turned, twisted and tormented.

The Nonsuch
Querlûntra (Quer [as in query]-LOONTRA), a ruin-chanter. Master of the Tower of Nonsuch, deep in the Elder Thistles. Keeps possession of The Moon-Starred Book and the wanderings that lead one to the extra-planar realm of Eftsoons. Attended by the ruin elementals Oarfoot, Tumbletorn and Roughstone. On powerful nights the Tower is host to gatherings of the corrupted fey of the Thistles, celebrations garish and terrifying. It is often on these nights that malevolent hoary hunters fly forth under the moon, seeking prey to drag back to the realm of Faerie. Before the Doom of Uth and the birth of the Mere of Dead Men, the Tower was the home of the Lady of Moonlight and Roses, a nominant of the Seelie Court (which may or may not be Querlûntra of old), but is now entirely a stronghold of the Unseelie upon Faerûn.

The extra-planar realm of Eftsoons
Where the Host Innumerable of the Strange Ohm and the Impearled Suns once made their domain. A veil of soft mist and subtle air thoroughly pervades it. A peculiar luminosity lies on the glittering horizons, a bleeding nadir through which an intrepid traveler may find themselves in The Before, The After, The Now; or even in The Possible (although which horizon is which can never be determined or ascertained aforehand). The only thing present here now is the goddess Leira and the god Savras, and the patterns of their strange, hypnotically swirling dance, from whose eddies form scenes of memory and those moments yet to be experienced, and whose ineffable conversation forms the truth and mystery of all Faerûn. They do not respond to query or physical impediment, and any attempt at the latter will be met with simple, yet utter deletion from all of reality.


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

'Only the cavalier Urmyth Caskantalar, the bladesman Gost Thaunharp, and the bard Elyrid Llaryn are currently known to remain in Waterdeep and environs'

Elyrid Llaryn (original entry on 03 Feb 2019)
The Silver Swallow. A bard of middling fame in the city. Fair-skinned and sandy-haired. Recently outed as a member of the vigilante Red Sashes and presumed to have left the city with his companion Jesshyra of Daggerford, a vendor of perfumes and aromatic sachets. Elyr was once a higher level, but was drained by a tenormog, a bard's-bane or eldritch lullaby, which left him with his voice and learned knowledge, but stripped him of his mastery over song and spell.

Gost Thaunharp (original entry on 13 Mar 2020)
Youngest son of the noted Chondathan harpist and adventurer, Markos Thaunharp. Brother of Ruvheld and Torghus. Follows the goddess Tymora, unlike his Tyrran brothers. Fair skin and hair, dancing green eyes. Smaller than his brothers. Quick-witted, eager, brave to the point of foolishness. Wears The Smouldering Hades Cloak (a hooded cloak +2; fire shield, either version 2x/day; smoky, acrid fog cloud 1x/day), fashioned by his mother from the pelts of the infernal Hades Hounds of the Dolordelve.

The human fighter Relthorr (slain by a giant troll-frog in the Mere), the half-elf ranger Ylendrel (left in disagreement on a caravan bound for Scornubel), and the dwarf priest Barlenda (faithful of Haela, killed by the same algoids that captured Bembrel) comprised the rest of their number.


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sleyvas
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Posted - 28 Nov 2022 :  17:37:31  Show Profile Send sleyvas a Private Message  Reply with Quote
quote:
Originally posted by AJA


Bembrel Ripplewove
Gnomish former member of the Fellowship of the Lucky Falls (of Fortune), an adventuring company of some minor fame. At the end of his time in the Lucky Falls, Bembrel fell under the sway of a circle of Moander-stained algoids in the Mere of Dead Men. He was seized and drowned, and anointed in golden algae and crowned with bog-myrtle, and raised anew as a servitor of the Shambling Rot, to walk among Men and thereby spread the seed of Moander. He is currently active in the Undermountain and the Deep Ways of Skullport, in an ambitious scheme to corrupt and enslave the beholder known as the Xanathar, and to turn its' network of operatives in the city above towards Moander's aims.
        Dead, glassy eyes which see all but never seem to focus on any one thing. Smells like loam and acrid sweat. His lower chest cavity, which he takes great care to conceal under several layers of flowing and protective clothing, is a great gaping wound from which spills out throbbing, luminescent fungi. Can use the spores and putrescence from these innards in ineffable ceremony to raise up the dead as his servitors (akin to ju-ju zombies). He does not bleed or tire, and has surprising resistance to fire and flame of all manner. Retains the abilities he had in life, as an accomplished thief and illusionist. He has been assured by the Voice of the Shimmering Stagnancy itself that one day, if his efforts are true, a thing of pileus and mycelia, of spreading, iridescent, gossamer-like questing filaments, and foul and ever-spreading black spores, will be born from within him, his continuing rebirth into eternal life.

Gilgrae (JILL-grey) Shaleshoe
"Lady Master of Lure and Illusion and the Sleighted Arts of Concealment and Confusion." A sparkling, cheerful, ever-talkative whirlwind of a gnome. A former member of the Fellowship of the Lucky Falls (of Fortune), an ill-favored adventuring fellowship. Gilgrae took a different path than her companions in the Tower of Nonsuch, deep in the Elder Thistles, and found herself disappeared into the extra-planar realm of Eftsoons. Her fate after that is unrecorded, though her companions mourn her as lost and her death has been entered into the rolls of the City of the Dead.

The Deadman's Marsh-Weird
Deadly haunting of the Mere of Dead Men. A threadbare axe-man whose ghostly lanthorns dazzle travellers' eyes, and leads them stumbling astray into the nearby waiting marsh. If this iridiated hypnosis has no effect, the bone-handled woodaxe slung on his back may instead. The bard Elyrid Llaryn once claimed that he was able to win a victory against the Weird by engaging it in a riddling contest of truth and falsehoods, but it's probably best to just run if met, or to avoid the outskirts of the Mere at twilight altogether.

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

The Elder Thistles
They are as they sound; a part of Faerūn that was old when Uthtower was young, and which refused to change when the Mere came into being. Unfortunately, they could not fully resist the dark energies unleashed and so became mazy, and dark and resentful, tangled home for those fey who would have otherwise drowned and were likewise turned, twisted and tormented.

The Nonsuch
Querlūntra (Quer [as in query]-LOONTRA), a ruin-chanter. Master of the Tower of Nonsuch, deep in the Elder Thistles. Keeps possession of The Moon-Starred Book and the wanderings that lead one to the extra-planar realm of Eftsoons. Attended by the ruin elementals Oarfoot, Tumbletorn and Roughstone. On powerful nights the Tower is host to gatherings of the corrupted fey of the Thistles, celebrations garish and terrifying. It is often on these nights that malevolent hoary hunters fly forth under the moon, seeking prey to drag back to the realm of Faerie. Before the Doom of Uth and the birth of the Mere of Dead Men, the Tower was the home of the Lady of Moonlight and Roses, a nominant of the Seelie Court (which may or may not be Querlūntra of old), but is now entirely a stronghold of the Unseelie upon Faerūn.

The extra-planar realm of Eftsoons
Where the Host Innumerable of the Strange Ohm and the Impearled Suns once made their domain. A veil of soft mist and subtle air thoroughly pervades it. A peculiar luminosity lies on the glittering horizons, a bleeding nadir through which an intrepid traveler may find themselves in The Before, The After, The Now; or even in The Possible (although which horizon is which can never be determined or ascertained aforehand). The only thing present here now is the goddess Leira and the god Savras, and the patterns of their strange, hypnotically swirling dance, from whose eddies form scenes of memory and those moments yet to be experienced, and whose ineffable conversation forms the truth and mystery of all Faerūn. They do not respond to query or physical impediment, and any attempt at the latter will be met with simple, yet utter deletion from all of reality.





The extraplanar realm of Eftsoons got its name from a former visitor, the dwarf named Gaurel the Glibtongued, who managed to barely escaped from the realm several centuries prior. In his words, "Anyone that be entering yon place may as well expect to be Farruked Soon, so I be taking to calling the place F'd Soon.".

But Gaurel never truly came to understand the true power of the place, and neither did his dozen companions, none of whom emerged from the realm with him. Such cannot be stated about the wily Gilgrae however, for as she watched the weft and wane of Leira and Savras, she discovered that this was a magic plane of possibility... a way to travel back or forward in time within a single year, in order to "fix" something that has gone horribly wrong. However, one must be exceptionally careful to never meet oneself, lest they cause a paradox that simply and utterly results in the deletion of the person from reality.

So it is that Gilgrae has been repeating the same year over and over, sometimes travelling forward and sometimes travelling backward. Luckily for her, prior to entering the realm of Eftsoons, she had been working as a scout for her party, so she has been able to subtly direct them to change their actions. However, she has also come to realize that she is ALSO able to interact with individuals OUTSIDE of the Mere of Dead Men, and she has taken it into her head that she should contact another group of adventurers to come and help her party by also entering the realm of Eftsoon and changing the way things proceed by working together.

Gilgrae has learned much from the images created by Savras and Leira. Primarily, she has learned that neither wants Moander to gain a foothold in the world, and in saving Bembrel Ripplewove she can stop the machinations of Moander. Gilgrae is motivated further by the fact that, due to the insight of Savras, she knows that she carries the unborn son of Bembrel, and she would not have her son grow up without his father.

Unfortunately, Gilgrae is opposed by the Nonsuch, an antler browed follower of Beshaba, and her "ruin elementals", Oarfoot, Tumbletorn and Roughstone, who believes it is her mission to destroy followers of Tymora. In fact, it was Querlūntra who first attracted the Fellowship of the Lucky Falls to the area, for she thought she was receiving visions from her goddess. In truth, Moander corrupted the visions sent by Beshaba, which should have led the entire company into a trap and to their deaths prior to entering the Mere of Dead Men. Moander specifically sought to entrap Bembrel Ripplewove for his own machinations. But Beshaba recognizes that Moander's meddling has still caused grave misfortune from the Fellowship of the Lucky Falls, and so at present she does not seek to stop Querlūntra.

At present, Gilgrae believes that the best course of action that she can hope to enact would be to get another group of adventurers to rescue the innocent prisoners and find the six chestfuls of gold and silver under the floorboards of Bonecrusher's Mill. All the while she and her fellows would fight Bonecrusher and his goblin servants. Thus, they would never consider themselves exceptionally lucky and they would never take the name that would attract the ire of Beshaba.

So far, Gilgrae has been unsuccessful in her shenanigans, but she firmly believes that it was the hand of the gnomish gods that first led her to the fireside stories of the "dwarf" Gaurel the Glibtongued in a dockside tavern, for surely Garl Glittergold would gladly see her son risen to adulthood so that he may save the many gnomes of Faerun as she has foreseen in The Possible in the realm of Eftsoon.

Alavairthae, may your skill prevail

Phillip aka Sleyvas

Edited by - sleyvas on 28 Nov 2022 18:18:01
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FIVE PASSAGES FROM FIVE BOOKS
"Five passages from five books? Found bound and printed on shelf and in nooks? Five passages my fate, by hook or by crook! Oh Deneir, tell me quickly – where must I look?"
        From the play, A Little Deadly Knowledge
        Premiered at Rallathae's Red Round Room, Silverymoon, 1364DR


"Faithful of the Moonmaiden are often gathered in ceremony to be baptised or bathed 'in the Serene white light of the Goddess', and regard this as a most holy of blessings. But consider this; while the moonlight may indeed be a divine anointing oil, under whose all-embracing purview do these rituals truly take place? If Sister Selûne is the vessel then whose silent hands reach out to gather the assembled under her umbral cloak, and through whose grace are conducted these most holy of nocturnal rituals?"
        Naraundra, Foremost Night Sister of the Moon
        Heresies and Great Services of the Moonmaiden
        Year of the Harp, 1355DR

"But the utmost care must be taken in the preparation and selection of these dishes. Never allow even small quantities of poorly-butchered organs or ill-cured flesh into the final dish. Roast mutton accompanied by a wrap of bacon of stirge forms the basis of a most delightful repast! Conversely, even the slightest measure of stirge bladder when added to your mutton roast comes for no good, and indeed is said to be what formed the three gallstones of the god Bane, when he was served such at the banqueting after the birth of the saturnine star, K'thoutek."
        Murrhy "The Slightly-Adventurous" Barleybuckle
        The Slightly-Adventurous Chef's Guide-Book to Cooking With Monstrous Materiels
        Year of the Riven Skull, 1250DR

"A dull throb was what I felt after I cast my first spell. I had expected some glorious, exultant rush, trumpets blaring, a moment of utter sublimation into the embrace of a goddess, but instead there was merely an insistent ache, as if some small part of my mind or jaw was suddenly ripped away and removed without warning. That dull ache after casting always remained, no matter how proficient in the Art I grew. The triumphant rush, on the other hand, the feeling of total exhilaration, that only manifested after the first time I reached into the Weave and used it to immolate another man right where he stood."
        Kalasso of the Numberless Sorrows
        Discourses in the Dusk
        Year of the Emptied Lair, 973 DR

"My future starts every morning with the cock-crow. As does the future of all Faerûn. Every morning, there under Lathander's light, we all begin anew."
        Oadaunra Windstreel, Illumining Quill of Lathander
        A Candle-Book of The Morninglord's Devotions
        Year of the Frozen Flower, 1221DR

"Now, the surest way of gaining the goodwill of a king is to gain the good graces of those who have the most influence upon him – in most cases either the court wizard or the court jester. Fortunately for the clever envoy, they both enjoy the same simple vices, foremost among them a weakness for bright, fanciful devices that jingle and jangle."
        Andalthun Marlemoor, Lord of Shoring Pale, Foremost Scribe of the Queen's Speeches and Unordinary Councillor to the Court of His Majesty, King Palaghard The Second
        On the Art of Royal Flattery
        Year of the Empty Goblet, 1252DR


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

Shoring Pale
An awful, dark, damp, cursed hold at the northerly west-end of the Lake of Dragons ('a shivering gloom of wooded dells and black-bouldered shoreline', as wrote the Cormyrean travelogue author Elmadros Illnimble), north of the river Tun, where the crags run close to the coastline and it is said that the prevailing tides of the Lake bring all the bloated, decaying, newly-undead corpses of sailors and other drowned unfortunates to its' bleak pebbled shore, stinking and rotting and eager for one last embrace of warm living flesh ('disgorged from the useless graves of the sea, unsheltered and swelled with the tides'). Built early on in Cormyr's history, to defend against barbarian raids coming up along the river. The keep itself rose around a squat, six-sided stone tower most sages agreed was of ancient dwarven build. Nominally a crown holding, traditionally given out to those whose services warranted a knighthood, but annoying or graspingly ambitious enough to be shuttled off to some monster-infested, godsforsaken hole-in-the-wall. Later fallen into complete abandonment and finally, in 1371DR, absorbed into the newly-created Barony of Warmshores.



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sleyvas
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Posted - 23 Dec 2022 :  14:24:14  Show Profile Send sleyvas a Private Message  Reply with Quote
quote:
Originally posted by AJA


"But the utmost care must be taken in the preparation and selection of these dishes. Never allow even small quantities of poorly-butchered organs or ill-cured flesh into the final dish. Roast mutton accompanied by a wrap of bacon of stirge forms the basis of a most delightful repast! Conversely, even the slightest measure of stirge bladder when added to your mutton roast comes for no good, and indeed is said to be what formed the three gallstones of the god Bane, when he was served such at the banqueting after the birth of the saturnine star, K'thoutek."
        Murrhy "The Slightly-Adventurous" Barleybuckle
        The Slightly-Adventurous Chef's Guide-Book to Cooking With Monstrous Materiels
        Year of the Riven Skull, 1250DR

<snip>

"My future starts every morning with the cock-crow. As does the future of all Faerūn. Every morning, there under Lathander's light, we all begin anew."
        Oadaunra Windstreel, Illumining Quill of Lathander
        A Candle-Book of The Morninglord's Devotions
        Year of the Frozen Flower, 1221DR




I like that concept of the three gallstones of Bane being equated to a comet that supposedly heralded the births of Elminster and the Simbul. Might the third "gallstone" be Sammaster as a way to fit them as chosen of Mystra? Not sure if the timing would work.


On the Illumining Quill of Lathander..... it makes me think that there should be divine minor artifacts for Lathander, pulled from the tail of "the dawncock"... a variant Phoenix that appears to be like a rooster. Picturing something that "writes" as fiery light anywhere, even on the air.... and picturing followers of Deneir wanting to acquire these artifacts and use them in service to their own god.


Alavairthae, may your skill prevail

Phillip aka Sleyvas
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AJA
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Posted - 23 Dec 2022 :  23:37:21  Show Profile Send AJA a Private Message  Reply with Quote
quote:
Originally posted by sleyvas
I like that concept of the three gallstones of Bane being equated to a comet that supposedly heralded the births of Elminster and the Simbul. Might the third "gallstone" be Sammaster as a way to fit them as chosen of Mystra? Not sure if the timing would work.

It is an interesting thought experiment. I was thinking instead about what kind of legendary items you would get from the gallstones of a god. Very angry, very painful objects.


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Posted - 23 Dec 2022 :  23:39:34  Show Profile Send AJA a Private Message  Reply with Quote

A VISIT FROM ELMINISTER
apologies to Henry Livingston, Jr., and/or Clement Clark Moore
(no apologies to Ed Greenwood, this is all his fault)


'Twas the night before Mystra's Demise, and all through the steading
Not a creature was stirring, not even the mimic in the bedding
The flumph-bags were hung by the hearth with care,
In hopes that a new edition soon would be there;
The PCs were nestled all snug in their beds;
While visions of +5 Longswords danced in their heads;
And Khelben in his bedrobe, and Laeral sneaking Schnapps,
Had just had a look over sage Werthead's maps
When out on Mount Waterdeep there arose such a clatter,
The Walking Statues turned to see what was the matter.
Away to the window Khelben flew via spell,
Tore open the shutters and he gave quite a yell.
Selûne doing snow-angels on the new-fallen snow,
Gave a lustre of midday to Mount Waterdeep below,
Khelben rolled to disbelieve as what did appear,
But a miniature sleigh that said 'Ed Greenwood's alter-ego' on the rear,
With the Old Goat himself so mischieviously sinister,
Khelben knew in a moment he must be Elminister.
More reliable than Tolkien's eagles his Lorelords they came,
And he oh-ho-ho'd, and heh-heh'd, and called them by name:
"Now, Krashos! now, Elaine! now Erin and Eric Logan!
On, Brian! on, Other Brian! on, Erik and Steven!
To DMsGuild! to Candlekeep's groovy hall!
Now Lore away! Lore away! Realmslore for all!"

And then, in a twinkling, Khelben heard overhead
Not prancing and pawing but furious scribbling instead
Khelben drew in his head, Laeral turned around,
Down the chimney Elminister came with a bound.
He spoke not a word, but went straight to his work,
And filled all the flumph-bags; then turned with a jerk,
And laying his finger aside of his peak'd nose,
With a cheeky flash under his robe, up through the chimney he rose;
He sprang to his sleigh, to his Lorelords gave a cheer,
And away they all flew and did quickly disappear.
But Khelben heard him exclaim, 'ere he drove out of sight –

"A new edition is coming, prepare for a lore re-write!"


AJA
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sleyvas
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11839 Posts

Posted - 27 Dec 2022 :  20:24:24  Show Profile Send sleyvas a Private Message  Reply with Quote
quote:
Originally posted by AJA


A VISIT FROM ELMINISTER
apologies to Henry Livingston, Jr., and/or Clement Clark Moore
(no apologies to Ed Greenwood, this is all his fault)


'Twas the night before Mystra's Demise, and all through the steading
Not a creature was stirring, not even the mimic in the bedding
The flumph-bags were hung by the hearth with care,
In hopes that a new edition soon would be there;
The PCs were nestled all snug in their beds;
While visions of +5 Longswords danced in their heads;
And Khelben in his bedrobe, and Laeral sneaking Schnapps,
Had just had a look over sage Werthead's maps
When out on Mount Waterdeep there arose such a clatter,
The Walking Statues turned to see what was the matter.
Away to the window Khelben flew via spell,
Tore open the shutters and he gave quite a yell.
Selūne doing snow-angels on the new-fallen snow,
Gave a lustre of midday to Mount Waterdeep below,
Khelben rolled to disbelieve as what did appear,
But a miniature sleigh that said 'Ed Greenwood's alter-ego' on the rear,
With the Old Goat himself so mischieviously sinister,
Khelben knew in a moment he must be Elminister.
More reliable than Tolkien's eagles his Lorelords they came,
And he oh-ho-ho'd, and heh-heh'd, and called them by name:
"Now, Krashos! now, Elaine! now Erin and Eric Logan!
On, Brian! on, Other Brian! on, Erik and Steven!
To DMsGuild! to Candlekeep's groovy hall!
Now Lore away! Lore away! Realmslore for all!"

And then, in a twinkling, Khelben heard overhead
Not prancing and pawing but furious scribbling instead
Khelben drew in his head, Laeral turned around,
Down the chimney Elminister came with a bound.
He spoke not a word, but went straight to his work,
And filled all the flumph-bags; then turned with a jerk,
And laying his finger aside of his peak'd nose,
With a cheeky flash under his robe, up through the chimney he rose;
He sprang to his sleigh, to his Lorelords gave a cheer,
And away they all flew and did quickly disappear.
But Khelben heard him exclaim, 'ere he drove out of sight –

"A new edition is coming, prepare for a lore re-write!"





And in the near woods, under starlight's soft glare, stood Storm wielding wood axe and wearing nothing but hair

Alavairthae, may your skill prevail

Phillip aka Sleyvas
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AJA
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Posted - 14 Jan 2023 :  19:13:35  Show Profile Send AJA a Private Message  Reply with Quote

LEGENDARY THINGS and FANCIFUL ENCHANTMENTS
"Yet the very same precise codification of magic, its workings, and the details of its clashings that make it understood and somehow more 'fair' around the gaming table has, by the nature of exhaustive explanation, robbed magic of its chief glory: awe." ('Putting The Awe Back In Magic', Ed Greenwood, enworld.org/threads/putting-the-awe-back-in-magic.667200/)


The Black Egg of Semuanya
Dwarf-sized, black and leathery with eerie crimson veinings just visible through the shell. Believed to be a slumbering avatar of the lizardfolk god Semuanya. It is said that those who would crack the shell and drink from the yolk may gain tremendous power. Conversely, those who manage to discover a way to hatch the profane orb would gain a follower of great strength and savagery, but certainly evil intent. Good luck getting it to crack or hatch, or anything else though. It seems content to slumber and occasionally pulse in its eerie crimson veinings, and not respond otherwise to any known physical or magical proddings.

The Door Into The Dark
An ancient and sinister cabinet of Jhaamdathan make. It is rumored to open a far-spanning gate road via psionics or sheer strength of will. Repeated journeys cause users to be haunted by wild, dolorous visions of love and death, darkness and solitude. Some report feeling their skin and souls stretched thin, of giving in to the twilight between light and the dark. These latter voices are corroborated in obscure writings such as Kalorth's Whispers and Thirsts and Thendrika's Rare Echoes, alleged first-hand accounts which aver that repeated use of the cabinet's functions cause the traveller's very soul to strife with itself and unravel, and that those who lose this internal battle are instead irrevocably turned into a puppet of the planes of shadow and dolor, a cruel shadeling that has full memories and abilities and believes itself to be true but is in fact a cosmic duplicate, with ones' real self trapped for eternity in a crystal prison in an endless hall, lost among the vastness of the grey Plane of Limbo.

The Iron-Spangled Coat
An enchanted suit akin to studded leather, imbued foremost with powerful protective bindings, and then the devotions of the herdsman and the wild song of the herbwife. A druid's war-coat, made from great strips of white birch, tinted with roaring hazel and studded with blood pearls bargained from the green copse of Aslaudree, the Gorger-of-Beasts.
        Morlenth "Boiled-Black" of Yr Glàn had the pearls prized out to satisfy the colossal dowry of his daughter Marsla to the Calishite satrap Sarlu Khonthurr, destroying the enchantments. It was later re-made by the great Ffolk smith Eraldyr, who used iron melted down from the helms of the Hateful Chiefs, captured during the great slaughter of the Oak Plains, which gave the suit a new life but severed its druidic connections. Eraldyr then gifted it to the hero Rald, who wore it for the rest of his campaigns against the bog-men of Gwynneth, and afterwards until the day he laid his sword aside. Rald had intended the suit for his son Elfdren, but it was plundered from his cellars when his keep was raided by sea-reavers out of the Pirate Isles, and most likely lost thereafter to the wilds of mainland Faerûn.

Lionsfang
In some folk tales, after Red Lion loses his pelt to the slayer Tauraven he retreats to Ithûval to lick his wounds and recuperate. He begs a cauldron of fish stew from the lord's wife, giving her as payment his right foremost fang. This is later forged into the bastard sword called Lionsfang (The Lion's Bite in some older sources), still the prized and most sought-after relic of House Cassalantar, descendants of the lords of Ithûval and greatest proponents of this tale. Needless to say, it is best told away from the hearing of any Uthgardt of the Red Lion tribe.
        Milkily translucent, like moonstone. Retains inherent memory of the blood and taste of every species and race ever bested by Red Lion, and hungers and strikes accordingly. Growls and grumbles when stalking or having sampled afresh the blood of such prey, bringing terrors of death and sharply increased fear to those so marked.

The Many-Starred Tables
Magical cosmic constructs upon which Selûne's Handmaidens are said to gather and weave the silvery twilight of the Heavens, 'from mighty looms immaculate and cold'. Valkur Far-Sailor was said to have absconded with one and placed it aboard his ship, where it granted him unmatched knowledge of the night sky and the ability to craft sailcloth of potent magical properties. Lluriendel of the Elves, grasped and drained by the pustulent god Yurtruus during The War of Elf and Orc, was then placed upon such a Table by Sehanine and wrapped all over in long, flowing rainments of silvery twilight, and returned to Faerûn as Entheriel, to continue serving out her divine writ. And seven were claimed as seized by agents of Loathsome Shar, during The Days of Endless Night, who then proceeded to corrupt and utilize them in weaving far-reaching bindings of Chaos and power, in dark mockery of the true Weave of the goddess Mystra.

Olodonar's Cursed Sea Weft
An enchanted fishing net made of cold iron links; when cast into the water only brings up the bones of dead sea life and those unfortunates lost to the sea. Can be very promising for an enterprising necromancer, and was instrumental in recovering the lost remains of the elf king Elorilentar (with the blazing chunk of starmetal that was later forged into the dagger Brightweird still imbedded in his skull), otherwise not terribly useful. Throwing it over a live creature doesn't have any effect a regular net (made out of cold iron links, mind) wouldn't.

Sheldarra's Coat of Ivory
A fantastical dress of interlocking ivory plates and beads, each one intricately carved by the dwarven artisans of the Great Southern Rift. Overlaid by a great choker and accompanying shoulder-piece of warm amber. The legendary marriage-dress of the "Princess of Ships" Sheldarra Stormweather, paid for by the full fortunes of the Stormweather coffers and the favors long owed to her devoted father (one of which was an ancient marker, called in and absolved in full, originally pledged between Marukus Stormweather and Elueshendavva "Scales-of-Silver-on-Stars," terminating the servile ridership of Elueshendavva in return for the mithril filigree required to link the various plates and beads of the dress, provided from the contents of dragon's hoard).
        Not enchanted by wizards, but said to have been powerfully invested by the high priesthoods of Sune and Selûne. Lost during the chaos of the Guildwars, stolen by unknown hands (though the Stormweathers blame the covetous Urmbrusks to this day).



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

'of the elf king Elorilentar'
his fate excerpted from the tome, Elven Epithets (801DR, Greylaura of Mosscrown)

Elorilentar sought to force his way West, over the sea, to the dominions of the gods and the glories he felt were promised to him. Sehanine, as Keeper of the Western Skies, summoned a mighty storm and blew him and his fleet all the way backwards to what is now called the Sea of Moonshae. And Elorilentar, in his madness and his hubris, climbed the mast of his ship and raised his fists and damned Sehanine, and called for her house to be brought down, and for all the stars in her skies to be torn out one by one and brought before him. And to this Sehanine said, "if you wish to have the stars down, you shall not have to wait so long for them," and cast out her hand and caused a great starfall that illumined the entire night sky, of which they still tell legends of in the Moonshaes, whose unrelenting violence pierced Elorilentar and his fleet a thousand times over, and sent them all swiftly into the darkened depths, and to their doom.



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

'of the elf king Elorilentar'
his fate excerpted from the tome, Elven Epithets (801DR, Greylaura of Mosscrown)
(and further annotated by the personal grace of the Lady Alustriel Silverhand of Silverymoon)

Elorilentar sought to force his way West, over the sea, to the dominions of the gods and the glories he felt were promised to him*. Sehanine, as Keeper of the Western Skies, summoned a mighty storm and blew him and his fleet all the way backwards to what is now called the Sea of Moonshae**. And Elorilentar, in his madness and his hubris, climbed the mast of his ship and raised his fists and damned Sehanine, and called for her house to be brought down, and for all the stars in her skies to be torn out one by one and brought before him. And to this Sehanine said, "if you wish to have the stars down, you shall not have to wait so long for them," and cast out her hand and caused a great starfall that illumined the entire night sky, of which they still tell legends of in the Moonshaes, whose unrelenting violence pierced Elorilentar and his fleet a thousand times over, and sent them all swiftly into the darkened depths, and to their doom.***


* when the elven fastness of Evermeet was first brought forth upon Faerûn, there were those who felt that they had best claim to rule there (especially, in the case of high elves like Elorilentar, those who traced their lineage directly and unquestionably back to Tintageer of Old). They would not be persuaded and they would not be denied. This led to an internecine strife that passed fleetingly and was gone, lost to the onset of ages and the dedicated efforts of the elves themselves to forget such things (chiefly so that such vulgar grasping and bloodletting not be allowed to sully the pristine eminence of Evermeet the Eternal, the Sea-Girdled Mother of All Elvendom)

** the defenses of Evermeet are very effective

*** the defenses of Evermeet are very effective


AJA
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AJA
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Posted - 23 Jan 2023 :  01:21:47  Show Profile Send AJA a Private Message  Reply with Quote

Nelkurth
Wandering street-vendor, most often found with his carry-chest around the Market and outside of temples on the various holy days. Thin, angular, bony. Long bronze hair braided in purple and pinned with tin stars. Speaks with an urgent voice and a friendly smile. Claims to hail from east of Calimshan. Concocts and peddles various paste and plumb-deep treatments for goblin-rash, bleed-waste, enflamed talons, haemorrhoids, large haemorrhoids, blanched haemorrhoids and other malignant rectal ailments. His wares do not bear the accompanying sigil of the Guild of Apothecaries and Physicians; he claims this is because, in his culture, use of lowly guild-marks on holy ointments is to be utterly forsaken, rather than the fact that the contents of his brightly-colored squeeze-bladders are nothing more than de-worming horse-paste and scented oil of apples.
        If an irate customer returns to him a second time, he declares that their case is most disturbing, and recommends a second purchase, as they should have come to him sooner! If they track him down a third time, he swears that this is no ordinary malady, but obviously the malign work of evil spirits or the vengeful vexes of a rival, and directs them to the Street of Whispers abode of the 'Master of Mysticisms', his fellow charlatan Ezendril (from whom he gets a cut of the profits from any referred mark). Ezendril will do his usual theatrics and mummery, and offer a warm cup of numbing tea and a pat out the door. Anyone then irate enough to return to Ezendril will be told that this malady is 'beyond the reach of the mystic arts' and a matter for the gods, and be directed onwards to the great temples of the city (of which the mark obviously lacks the social standing or the spare coin to interact with, or they would have gone there first!).

Ohlazar the Brazen
The Nilpur Knight. A great slayer and hunter-of-monsters. Fearless and ferocious. Preferred to walk among monsters as he could not control his bloodlust well enough in civilized society. Slew, among others, the Tejarn Basilisk, the Beljuril King of Keczulla, the Twenty Spectral Sailors of Murann, the Dire Blood-Lion of The Greenfields, and the Whispering Nemmel-Nymph of the Fields of the Dead. Long claimed his greatest personal 'conquest' was the dowager matron Estrel, of House Bladesemmer, and applied the nilpur (yellow languid) she gave him as his own personal crest on shield and heraldic device thereafter. Disappeared into myth and legend after setting out to take on the great red wyrm Klauth. His sword, the great and glowering blade known as Bleaksilver, is presumed to have been lost along with him.

Robin of the Red-Breasted Coat
A particular servant of Lathander Morninglord, loaned in good faith from Eldath of the Waters since time immemorial – and often found walking in the similar company of Tabithra Broadbrim (Chauntea) and Tommobus, King of the Calicos (Nobanion). In modern times represented as a Hin of particularly stout and genial stature, of flaming red locks and sideburns, wide smile and wide-held grasp on the edges of his scarlet-and-silver overcoat. Very fancy and social, and particularly fond of any dealings involving Mankind.
        A Herald of the Morninglord, in the houses of compassion, new beginnings, and re-birth. Sings songs of favorable Spring plantings, spreads good fortune. Covers the dead children in the wood with blankets of fir and snow, serves as a messenger for those lost, loved ones. A protector from storms and lightning, and all other malices of the Gods of Fury (and thus famed as Robin 'Scorched Breast', whose defense of sapling and renewed beginnings comes at the particular ire of Talos and his furied lightning-throws).

quote:
Originally posted on p.03 (29 Dec 2018) by myself, and re-posted here for pre-edit reference:
The Knights of Palisaded Selûne
The Palisaded Order, The Argent Shield. A militant order of Selûne, charged with bringing light to the darkness and keeping the dark horrors of the night at bay. They always take the vanguard during the Boon-Time of the Goddess (the darkest nights of the month, when bands of cloaked, chanting Selûnites wander through the city streets, alit in silvery, pale-yet-surprisingly-bright moonfire radiance which clings to the streets and alleys for a time after the Lady's faithful have passed. Such excursions on the deeply-darkened streets are often contested by faithful of Shar, and the resultant skirmishes between the two faiths are viewed by the Selûnites as a prime way to "battle-harden" their flock). Heavily-armed paladins and crusaders. High-ranking knights bear helms or shields engraved with luminous mithril or silver halos that shine forth with holy power (protection from evil, 20'r). Grandmaster: Durnath the Truly Luminous. Their symbol is the Lucent Halo, their oath is "Shine Forth, Strike Forth, O Selūne!"

The Palisaded Order
A militant order of Palisaded Selûne, an aspect of the goddess bright and overwatching, shining down upon Her faithful. The Order (The Knights of Palisaded Selûne) work to keep the dark horrors of the night at bay, especially in civilized lands and strongholds of Selûne. Heavily-armored paladins and crusaders. High-ranking knights bear helms or shields engraved with luminous mithril or silver halos that shine forth with holy power (protection from evil, 20'r). Their symbol is the Lucent Halo, their oath is "Selûne shine bright, cast on me your Light this night." Grandmaster of the Order: Durnath the Truly Luminous. Other notable members (separate entries in italics): Emmaliir of Silverymoon, Hlaela Hearth-Mark

The White Order
A militant order of Selûne Shining-White, an aspect of the goddess in her full battle panoply and lawful fury, gleaming of silver and mithril. The Order (The Knights of Selûne Argent) is charged with bringing Selûne's Holy Light into the darkness. Heavily-armed paladins and crusaders. Unlike Palisaded Selûne, her followers do not defend, they actively seek out and throw themselves into combat against the various evils of Faerûn. They always take the vanguard during The Boon-Time of the Goddess (the darkest nights of the month, when bands of cloaked, chanting Selûnites wander through the city streets, alit in silvery, pale-yet-surprisingly-bright moonfire radiance which clings to the streets and alleys for a time after the Lady's faithful have passed. Such excursions on the deeply-darkened streets are often contested by faithful of Shar, and the resultant skirmishes between the two faiths are viewed by the Selûnites as a prime way to "battle-harden" their flock). Their symbol is The Holy Orb (full and bright white, overlaid by three vertical blood-red stripes indicative of Selûne's swift-starred justice), their oath is "Shine Forth, Strike Forth, O Selūne!" Grandmaster of the Order: Nystra Maldanthar. Other notable members (separate entries in italics): Klaedra Tarm, Ostael, Thommaril Stormsharr


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

Estrel, of House Bladesemmer
Lost her husband early on and, having been retired into dowager status, found a great faith in Ilmater, and gifted away all her jewelry and valuables to the poor and retired into a life of growing and cultivating brilliant flowers. Later had a brief, intense romance with the renowned slayer Ohlazar, but ended their relationship after a time. It is whispered that she became aware of some horrible affliction or curse that he was under, which formed his reasoning for their union, and that she begged him to seek deific help for this affliction, but that he violently refused.

Bleaksilver
The ancient weapon most commonly associated with the legend of Ohlazar, slayer of monsters. A sword of great power and rumored fell appetites. It is said that calling out the ancient command word (aummenaur) would cause the blade to flare with sudden, dazzling white radiance, a blinding light that caused all enemies engaged with the wielder to be glare-blinded and hobbled in combat. The sword was forged from the silver bones of the Lustrum Urmmendrô, the Achromatic Sheen, of the Quasi-Elemental Plane of Minerals, and it still bears his bane by which the wielder is compelled to seek out gemstones, and jewelry of the same, and take them for themselves – even (or especially!) if it means attacking and killing their current owners.


AJA
YAFRP

Edited by - AJA on 23 Jan 2023 01:23:22
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Wooly Rupert
Master of Mischief
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Posted - 23 Jan 2023 :  02:13:48  Show Profile Send Wooly Rupert a Private Message  Reply with Quote
quote:
Originally posted by AJA



The Palisaded Order
A militant order of Palisaded Selūne, an aspect of the goddess bright and overwatching, shining down upon Her faithful. The Order (The Knights of Palisaded Selūne) work to keep the dark horrors of the night at bay, especially in civilized lands and strongholds of Selūne. Heavily-armored paladins and crusaders. High-ranking knights bear helms or shields engraved with luminous mithril or silver halos that shine forth with holy power (protection from evil, 20'r). Their symbol is the Lucent Halo, their oath is "Selūne shine bright, cast on me your Light this night." Grandmaster of the Order: Durnath the Truly Luminous. Other notable members (separate entries in italics): Emmaliir of Silverymoon, Hlaela Hearth-Mark



If I may... Instead of "Selūne shine bright, cast on me your Light this night.", how about "Selūne shining bright, bathe me in your silver Light."

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AJA
Senior Scribe

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771 Posts

Posted - 23 Jan 2023 :  04:14:23  Show Profile Send AJA a Private Message  Reply with Quote
quote:
Originally posted by Wooly Rupert
If I may... Instead of "Selūne shine bright, cast on me your Light this night.", how about "Selūne shining bright, bathe me in your silver Light."

Wooly, you may indeed always may!

Or perhaps instead, "Bless me" or "Defend me with your".

I appreciate the input. Final draft was definitely a bit clunky but trust me, first draft was even worse (I'm sure you can see the remnant of the original inspiration of 'Star light, star bright, wish I may, wish I might, have this wish I wish tonight')


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

EDIT:

Okay, I think I've settled on;
quote:

their oath is "Shine Strong, Shine Bright" (from the full and formal "Selûne Shine Strong, Selûne Shine Bright, Defend Me With Your Light This Night,", this latter used only on initiations and high gatherings)

Contrasts also with the more aggressive "Shine Forth, Strike Forth" of the other Order.

AJA
YAFRP

Edited by - AJA on 24 Jan 2023 23:10:04
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