A transcription, beyng the seminal introduction by Mr S J Ponsuler to the theory and praxis of Dracapodemy, the studie of Dragons’ migration patterns. This tome ys to be founde in the librarie of Anserne University, alonge with many years of copies of the Dracapodemyst’s Almanac not to mention verious othere tomes on the subjecte.
(Another submission I’m transferring over to the main site from the fora).
Language is an essential part of any culture. Culture wouldn’t exist without some form of communication, and humans communicate by speaking. But the connection is deeper even than that. The language helps to define the culture which uses it, and is in turn affected by that culture. This dynamic process is what keeps a language “alive”: Latin is a dead language because the culture to which it belonged no longer exists.
This thread is for the development of rangerspeak, the dialect of the mountain rangers who guard the passes, known as munnum to those who hear it, for its resemblance to a mumbling noise…
The grisly anthropomorphisation of a rockfall…
A permanently frozen lake, high in the Askharnn mountains, associated with the strange legend of the Amethyst Dragon.
An impressive citadel in the Askharnn mountains. Their prohibitive laws on travel during the Winter months can be a problem for pilgrims and wanderers.
As traps, obviously there are the standard protection glyphs which engulf you in fire or freeze you when you try to open locks. And then there are the non-standard ones…
Ettercaps (the spindly evil woodfolk) are always good for traps: their pine woods are so dense it’s difficult to see what’s a trap, what’s a branch and what’s an ettercap…
Following a discussion we had on the site, I thought we could start up a thread to post the pre- and post-apocalyptic effects of a comet/minor planetary impact on a campaign world.
Dragons, being huge and meaty, are the ideal habitat for countless unpleasant parasites.
A small and horrible bundle of needles and dyes with a truly sickening history and unpleasant side effects.
"When our barbarian ancestors first arrived on the plains of our homeland, they found them covered in dust inches thick. They named them Muranvan, the Dusty Plains and armed with spades they cleared the dust heaving it off the edge of the world. For they had been chasing the Prey for long aeons up the face of the cliffs at the edge of the world, and in the chase had tired of their nomadic ways. They wanted a stable home. So they founded Takvanak, the City on the Plains. In the long silence after they had cleared the dust from Muranvan, rang out the deep and unforgettable tones of the Iron Heart, Saekeri, and the barbarians knelt and felt resounding reverence."
- The Saekeran, book 1 verse 1.
A dangerous book of maps…
The PCs find themselves on a diplomatic mission, to return the Statue of Helce to the country from whom it was stolen long ago. They soon find themselves tied up in conspiracy, guerilla warfare and a surprising amount of molten rock…
A huge castle whose foundations are crumbling…A murderer on the run in the caverns below.
The PCs are hired to remove splinters of discontent and desertion from the feet of the Prince’s Army…
Betrothed to Skundaath Lord of Chaos, Celdea lives in perpetual fear of being found and taken to be his bride.
Some things remember well. The stones of the Chambers of Nul soaked up the terror of the encarcerated victims and even now remember it, slowly releasing it like sweat. The buried city of Mastad remembers the cries of its citizens as they were crushed, and still they can be heard on the wind.
So it is with the Bed. Over the centuries it has sat in this room it has been host to some interesting guests, and each has left an…impression. Every sleepless night, every troubled thought: the Bed remembers it all. And if you were to spend a night in its downy pillows, you might remember some of it too…
Carmo keeps a shop in the backstreets of Erezi. It’s not often visited, Carmo makes people feel…uneasy. Even the veterans of the Erezi underworld are uncomfortable being alone with Carmo. But they need to buy their traps from somewhere…
Deep in Throck forest there is a small valley filled with boulders. It is an uneasy place, full of invisible eyes. In the damp behind one of these boulders is a wooden door, virtually impossible to find, which leads down into the Kingdom of the Gnomes.
The ancient prophet Oijas Bek uttered a cryptic prediction:
In the time of the Floating Ships,
In the Capitol of the Shattered Empire,
The False God will draw the people to his banner,
The Blasphemer shall don robes of righteousness.
No one is sure what he meant, but the various sects each have their theories, which they often fight over.