"Hear, O Servant of the Just One! Hear and stand ye before him, the Celestial Judge! Hear and write: ‘Thus speaks the Great Lawgiver, before whom the world shall be tried, the one that is just and righteous beyond all - I am the Law. I am Dalraaen.’"
-The Didache of Law
The worshippers of the Celestial Judge have kept peace and law for a thousand years. When they see great injustice across the Continent, what can they do but fight?
“‘Hear! That which you warred for it gone. In its place is my own creation under my own authority. This Blessed Great Blue is my patronage and you will have no part in it! Lest you soil my sacred waves, I will cause them to crash onto your lands and drown your own creations. End your fighting: the seas are mine.’
Thus she spake from the Merciful Deep.”
- Yamasatran oral tradition
The mysterious Sisters of the Sea watch the events of the Sectarian Wars unfold from the safety of their monastery ships. But how long can they remain neutral before war is brought upon them?
“And into World they cast him, deep below, beneath stone and water and flame. In World’s Heart, doth gape the Peccant Maw, yet starved as the hunger grows unabated. Terror, irony, horror, farce! That which ends all is trapped beneath all.”
-The Tale of the Maw, “The Enslavement of the Devourer”
An ancient cult, the Vautuans worship their god with zeal. Chaos is their sacrament, death their prayer. Will the followers of the Gaping Maw free their god and destroy the world?
Transformed by the Ghulscorch Ague, the Lords of the Ghouls walk among us...
"When in disgrace with fortune and men’s eyes
I all alone beweep my outcast state,
And trouble deaf heaven with my bootless cries,"
-Shakespeares 29th Sonnet.
A series of letters concerning Thurgul, his followers, and the High Priest Yannuzar.
Believed by some to be heretics, the adherents of Silence worship the Blessed Ruth, Our Lady of Silence.
‘The bigger the brain, the smaller the heart. What do wizards know of faith?’
I will be the blade that shines by the holy suns.
I will be the shield that protects by the darkened shadows.
I will be vigilant in my duties to protect the Gods and their flocks.
I will be faithful to the edicts of my brethren.
Above no other will I be fully given to but the gods and my brethren.
I will be pure and woe to those who are not true.
- Mirrored Hand Ceremonial Edict
Scattered across the world are the worshippers of the Red Pantheon: Damascus Fellnorn and Xak the Fiendish, two godlings on a quest for world domination who command hordes of undead and many skilled swordsmen.
The Priests of Droven are as near a thing the Dwarf city states of the Ven (Barrier) Mountains have to a central government. They enforce laws, arbitrate disputes, monitor trade, intern the dead and in all ways keep chaos at bay.
Men of wisdom, gathering lore of ways to heal the sick and suffering, these monks are not really different from other orders of the same religion.
Except for their thing with drug-addicts and similar hopeless existences.
Imagine a land to the East (or just Far Away) that trades with your lands with the occassional Caravan. This land is all about The Civilization: The Order of Things, The Celestial Buracracy, The Mantle of Heaven, and clerical abilities defining who was in charge (due to their being touched by the Gods).
We are keepers of the Lore of the Eternal Pattern.
The Guides are here to show The People the steps and rhythms of the Celestrial Dance. The Common Church shows how people can walk or dance in the footsteps of the Pathkeepers, the Great Gods above.
His Most Divine Holy Caller Charlius III
Gods and Deities. The waking gods have tales and stories aplenty. Books and sermons dedicated to their prayers and beliefs fill many halls of many religious centers and the devout. Continued tales of their deeds abound fill those trying to fill the followers of their gods to the correct path of life. But what of the gods thought lost or who have died over the eons? Are they dead or just sleeping, staying out of sight from the eyes and prayers of man? Only the true dreams know the real answer.
Imagine a land to the East (or just Far Away) that trades with your lands with the occasional Caravan. This land is all about The Civilization: The Order of Things, The Celestial Bureaucracy, The Mantle of Heaven, and clerical abilities defining who was in charge (due to their being touched by the Gods). The Buracracy spoke with the voice of the Gods and could channel their power. Imagine what happens when their Gods die.
The figures looked more or less human. And they were engaged in religion. You could tell by the knives (it’s not murder if you do it for a god).
—(Terry Pratchett, Small Gods)
One thing that has been stressed over and over on this site is that fantasy can emulate reality. There are so many different real world events that can be transformed into gaming material that one should literally never run out of new content.
The story of Alvis
(Transcripted, and adapted from Sealab 2021, episode 21, Feast of Alvis)
One thing that has been stressed over and over on this site is that reality can emulate fantasy. There are so many different real world events that can be transformed into gaming material that one should literally never run out of new content.
The old clock tower stands tall, but the bulk of the uppermost storey is crumbling and unsafe, with gaping cracks in the walls. The metal struts and girders supporting the great bronze bells are still intact, though, and the bells survive. The grotesque gargoyles and arabesques which decorated the original design have either fallen into the street (once or twice a year more bricks fall from the tower, prompting calls for its demolition) or have been defaced, but the main doors to the clock tower are still intact and show signs of being kept in working order. This is the home of The Captains, clad in raggedy clothes, with sooty faces, and perpetually runny noses. But behind each set of eyes is the look of a survivor. They live to stick together and make it through each day. Older than their years in many ways, the friendship they share with each other and Wims ghost keeps the core of a childs innocence and hope alive in each. But they are still very suspicious of outsiders. They are a group of street children who live in the clock tower. Some are orphans, some runaways, and some nomads who occasionally return to their homes. But they’re all poor, dirty and perpetually hungry, as well as being wily, unscrupulous and mischievous in a fairly brutal way. Enough of them have suffered at the hands of adults for all of them to be wary of any grown-ups, particularly ones who ask too many questions, although with hard work and a lot of food it might be possible to win the confidence or even the trust of a few of them.