‘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
The mists of the northlands are as incessant as the cries of the crows or the everpresent boughs of the multitudes of elm, oak, and yew.
Few are the sons of men who have come to understand the ways of the Volgotoi, the huge warrior race commonly referred to as Ogres.
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.
Listen child, listen and I will tell you the first story, the story of Nagoma and the Gorund Tree…
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.
From this day forth, let Iacon be free from the tyranny of the gods and their chosen!
Inaugeral speech of Provost Layton Frost
The legacy of K’ton can be seen in the spinning gear, in the spring, in the sliding weight, and in the wonderous ships that glide through the air.
Time is a never ending cycle in which humans inhabit it for the equivalent of a blink of an eye compared to the infinity that is time. In this recurring age of humans the mysterious Time Knights keep the eternal order which rough chaotic men unwittingly disturb.
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
Shaft of heavens, burning bright. Gave us light amidst the night. Showed the means to reach our height. Passed to us Axtrami’s might.
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.
A peculiar guild of specialists. "Flick your ticks, slice your lice, squeeze your fleas."
A Renaissance dawns. A School of Art emerges.
Synchronize… The Humans make for interesting study. synchronize…
The Commander sniffed, “They are a motley group.”
The Captain said, “We will get the job done”.
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.
Among the assortment of organized criminals who live in the great city, few command greater fear the Moonbeard Order.
They of course do not call themselves that, but have earned the moniker from their fashion of dying their large beards with lye to produce a distinctive crescent shape running from earlobe to earlobe. This is meant as a taunt for their enemies, for it clearly outlines their throats.
They also wear garb similar to the northern tribesman, carefully tooled leather and showing multiple, colourful glyphs.
They are feared due to the intense discipline that their group maintains, due to their origins as a warrior-sect.
They serve as paid thugs, enforcers and assassins within the city, with the client simply ordering a service from the organization, not hiring an individual. Apart from making the request and providing payment in full in advance, the order completes the assignment themselves.
Their order has many moles through the organizations of the city, and more than a couple of nobles. As such, no organized move has been made against them since their chief activity is directed against other members of the crime world. It is said that their services have been useful for those in power as well, further protecting them from persecution.
Their religion holds that their time in this world is vanishingly brief, and largely unimportant except as training for the Great Battle.
The order is very utilitarian with weapons choice - they simply use the tool needed for the occasion, though not without having trained extensively with it beforehand. Daggers, garrottes, swords, bows, battle axes, polearms, wagons, even siege engines have been used to carry out their contracts.