Mitrall was a Guardian Deity of the Dead, who would watch over the Dead and their tombs until the time of their return (physical or re-incarnation). The culture that worshiped Mitrall has been conquered and destroyed a few centuries ago. Yet the Cult of Mitrall continues.
The Order is an odd order. It is a knightly order that does not require its members to be knights, or even noble. It is a small order to be sure, but no one knows as no list of its members has ever been published. However, the leader of the The Order can sit in on the Council and instantly get audiences with many important people. No one is sure what the Order is about and many who have an inkling DO NOT want to know more.
The hooded man leaves the tavern. The group had been assembled. They had recieved the map. “Now it begins,” he said. He vanishes.
The grisly anthropomorphisation of a rockfall…
It seems to be a giant turtle with a long neck. One expects it to be slow. However, it is one of the most effective predators in the rivers, deltas, and swamps of Vireland.
The best way to describe these creatures, 3 legged chicken/monkey/squirrels. These animals are proof that Gods have senses of humor.
These are also known as sourges of the desert sands. Carvitons bare a strong resemblance to their water dwelling cousins, including the large dorsal fin that can be seen in the sands.
Perhaps they lack the subtlety of other groups, but the Candles of God have no desire to be subtle. Perhaps they do not keep their secrets very well, but the Candles of God want their voices to be heard. Perhaps they are careless about who they kill, but there shall be no innocent bystanders when the fires of hell consume the unrighteous.
An impressive citadel in the Askharnn mountains. Their prohibitive laws on travel during the Winter months can be a problem for pilgrims and wanderers.
Traps need to make sense. Somebody must of made it for a specific purpose.
“Oh look, a glass wall between us and the treasure.”
It is a simple book, a codex, a few dozen loose folios bound together. The cover is heavy stock with a simple red hand that one hopes is impressed in red ink rather than blood.
The children of some of the murdered City Guards formed the “White Knights”, their stated aim being to help the City Guards crack down on crime.
The members of this obscure order specialize in growing funghi. Growing, researching and studying many kinds, they even try to create new ones.
The Brotherhood’s goal was to preserve traditional Eshal practices and customs, with emphasis being placed on the belief that every member of the tribe mattered and that to ignore his rights and contributions, would result in the Clan collapsing.
The principal axiom of the Curalon Hestaris, and the basis of all its teachings, is this:
"Inhale. Kill. Exhale."
The Order is about the past. It is a collection of people who love history, ancient times, and artifacts of the past. Only people who are really interested in past should be members. A passing interest is not enough. One must be dedicated to the past to be invited into this organization.
Via Humanitae - For Humans to live and thrive, non humans must be removed.
This organization began with a simple idea to protect the common people from the danger of magic run amok. Far too many disasters and atrocities were being commited by irresponcibe, evil, or mad wizards with no one to answer to but their own degraded consciences. But like so many things, it started off good and has shifted to the dark side.
Dungeons, should make sense, in an ecological way. However, to have life, you need to have a physical place to use them. This expands upon the ecological dungeon, giving it a framework to exist in.
In the far reaches of a long-lost wilderness, there stands a forgotten town inhabited only by children. Though they appear normal enough, their eyes burn with madness, and they speak in a foreign, archaic tongue. Nearly a millenia ago, a powerful spell had gone awry, or maybe it had succeeded - in any case, it ended up blessing, or cursing, an entire generation of children with agelessness. However, as the centuries passed, the children's parents grew old and died, the buildings of the town crumbled to earth, and even the civilization itself faded into history, becoming lost to time. All that remained were the children, driven mad by the psychological toll of living for hundreds of years beyond their age. In time, most children died, killed off by fighting amongst themselves, while many others were driven to suicide. Only a small handful remain, and they are a strange people indeed.