The powerful wizard Sumuho styled himself as a god and was worshipped far and wide. After his fall, his vast temple sank into the desert long ago. What secrets lie in the Sanctuary of Sumuho?

'In the Black, dead souls creep
Seeking vengence without sleep.
Sacrificed for precious stones,
Rend they now flesh and bones.
Bloody staind and drenched in tears,
Stones cry out to one who hears,
‘Treachery has sown the seeds!
Now you'll be the one who bleeds!
Wear us well, you who brave,
Next you'll be in the grave!''
- Tas-Vessina's curse

The dread pirate Corvorane was legendary even after his capture and conversion to a privateer. His secret fortress and hidden treasure are of equal fame. But more than gold lurks in the depths of Corvorane’s Cave.

"Is it just me, or is this cave moving?"
- Obin the Spelunker's last words

"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?

'Jones, when was the last time ye cleared yer hulls?'
'Mm, a few months back. Why?'
'Yer ship. She's comin' outta the water.'

'De Kanaar folk tink all dere gods and medicines are secret. But I live in dese marshes long enough to hear dere gods, whether pointy-ear folk like it or not. I can hear dere comin's and goin's, an' I can make dem see you or skip you as you like.'
- Tonis, hillaq of Rakart Village

"O Victorious Maul, send down your fury!
O Hammer of Justice, bring Dalraaen's law!
O Weapon of Righteousness, cast out the unlawful!"
- Magistrate Archivinus Kelstori, Ode to the Gavel

With the patronage of Dalraaen, this heavenly mace is the focus of the Magisterium's strongest order. Its darker roots, however, are hidden even to its wielders, and its very existance threatens the world.

'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?

Most know the love that goblins have for mushrooms. Few know the lengths they will go to obtain their delicacy.

''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?

A hat should be taken off when you greet a lady and left off for the rest of your life. Nothing looks more stupid than a hat. -P.J. O'Rourke

Priest of a death goddess

'Bristlebane ale. Tall.'

Mathus looked up. He didn't recognize the man ordering, but he seemed the type: muscles beneath a layer of fat, a snarling expression with most of his teeth missing, fists like summer hams. 'You want it in a bottle?'

'From the tap.'

Mathus nodded. 'This way,' he said, stepping from behind the bar and into the back room, the 'customer' following.

A fresh-faced young man sitting at the bar looked around, confused. 'Bristlebane? Sounds adventurous.'

'You couldn't handle it, son,' an older man said from across the plank bar with a hint of derision. 'It'd right kick your ass.'

'...and thus it was said that Adaleer the Blest could reflect the true nature of any soul. Now some of his followers believed that his ranger gear, as much a part of him as his faith, was also so blest.'
- Dauneth, Lore Chronicles