At this time an old man, one who told the Prince wondrous tales during his childhood, walked upon the bridge and witnessed the prince commit suicide, saw him fall into the water. “This is the Bridge of Fates. I foresee great sorrow and happiness. This bridge shall never remain neutral, shall know tears of joy and the blood of innocents”.
This is a popular children’s rhyme in the city of Ur-Kanesh. It is chanted while the children run down the street on St. Arakis eve.
In the lands of the Ardamians there is a tale. A tale of the weather god, Shastalar, and of Tear, the spirit of nature. This tale is often told when the weather grows bad and the children huddles in front of the fireplace.
The city of Kaldarien is a bustling port on the Isle of Wildenmeer, often called the isle of the twin duchies, and is the capital of the southernmost duchy.
At the heart of the Dhargenaas continent lays Malcaresh the northernmost city of the Southern Empire of the Careshi. It started with trade, but become tactically important. It has become a place of two styles since then.
On one of the adventurers’ many journeys through the lands, they one day enter a very strange village surrounded by a palisade. Therein all villagers seem to be sleeping, their hair long and flowing and their nails ever growing. Snow has settled on the land and the few found outdoors are covered in a thin layer of powdery white snow. Nothing can be done to awaken these mysterious sleepers and there seems to be no escaping this village either.
Then the night falls…
The Strangler is a chaos entity worshipped by an assassin cult. Using narcotics in their worship members of this killing cult are very very dangerous.
Then all of a sudden, the victim gets convulsions and seizures, eyes bulging and mouth foaming.
The Hostel of the Silent Brotherhood is a small hostel in the dock quarters of town. The Hostel is popular among scribes and scholars who value silence. In addition it is valued by those who are on the run, for the brotherhood consists mainly of skilled warriors adept at fighting with staves and maces.
On the intersection of Noble Avenue and First Street lies Kandorr’s Fine Perfumery. The shop occupies the entire building which is built in a classical style with majestic marble pillars and stylish stained glass windows.
The Ethenorden is a dusk skinned race of nomadic humans that frequent all nations on the Dhargenaas continent, save for populated parts of the province of Silmar and the Obaayn Desert within the Empire.
Throughout creation there are locations which serve as nexuses of sorts; conduits between one place and another. Such are the rules of translocation that only areas that border each other can be traversed by physical or magical means.
When the Gods forged Creation they imbued everything with a spirit of its own, a soul so to speak. The trees, the bushes, serpents and birds, everything was imbued with a soul. Even the very earth and the mountains got spirits of their own, as did the winds, the rain and the storms.
Saints and Sainthood: The inside story on the ascended
Necromancy: By some it is considered as nefarious black arts and by others a vault of opportunities, the very key to the secrets of life. A substantial part of the necromancer’s practice is devoted to undeath; a state in which one is neither alive nor dead. Unbeknownst to the general populace there are three ways in which undeath can provoked, and the curse of unlife bestowed upon the recipient.
The Eternals are one of the few races who survived the awakening of the Gods and the fall of Prime Creation. They were solitary, but powerful, weavers of essence and were locked in a bloody war with the Other Ones, another race which survived the Gods.
Angels are the guardians of Order, the forces that oversee that the purpose of existence is indeed fulfilled.
“Dreams are the only reality” suggests some of the ancient manuscripts. Dreams and the dreamers often reveal secrets long forgotten, or dreams can hide the truth only to make it resurface decades or even centuries later
Demons are the darker emotions, the destructive forces of creation. In primeval times the demons awoke alongside the gods and the angels, and were herded by the greater powers, chased into hell, even as the angels were led into heaven.
When the world is changing and madness descends, can a group of stalwart villagers save a bastard newborn from the clutches of an unknown enemy?
This campaign follows the group on their desperate flight from hostile forces, both covert and overt. This Campaign centre around their perilous journey through the highlands, the lowlands and within the cities of men. Will they survive long enough to reach the relative safety of the sacred Ulukhan? And how will they react to the hidden truths and internal strife they encounter on their journey?
This is a fully fledged campaign. One that will span many, many table top sessions.
Cold Comfort is a long-sword of star-steel, its blade giving off a wan, blueish light. Its grip is wrapped tightly in snow-serpent hide, and its pommel bears a single opalescent gemstone.
This blade is enchanted in such a way, that whoever wields it, begins to fall completely and irrevocably "in love" with the weapon. This love does not manifest itself as the expected reverence and bond formed between any warrior and his weapon, but as a deeper, truer love, one has for a soul-mate of the same species! The longer the wielder carries Cold Comfort the stronger and more disturbing this love becomes, and only the most powerful of magicks can potentially break the sword's insidious spell. The blade's owner will even speak to and coo to the weapon, convinced that the sword understands and returns this epic love.
If the blade's wielder somehow loses the weapon or has it taken away, they will become inconsolable, and will predictably go to "ends of the earth and back" to retrieve it at any cost. Such is the weapon's curse that even separation from it does not damper the feelings the owner has for the sword. Legends tell of several distraught and mind-addled knights who even years after losing the blade, still wander the country-side searching for their lost love. And woe be to the "new lover" if and when they find him or her.