The balance must be kept in check. Today you suffer my anger and wrath but tomorrow we shall dine and laugh. Forgive me for my duty my child, it is the way of Order. Choas today, Order for tomorrow.

- Priestess of Xukthalas preaching to a fallen foe.

"Hail! You there, farmer. We are in need of aid; do you have a temple or a priest? We ran into some bandits up the road there and are injured. Jonst won’t last much longer." A large man bellowed from the broken roadside.

"Of course stranger. You can find Luayas in the center of the village proper continue on until you see a large apple tree; she can aid your wounded. Please be gentle and offer tithes for her generosity." A gentle eyed man in homespun clothing, simple yet comfortable in the heat.

"Thank you farmer, we are in your debt. What does Luayas look like so that we might find her quickly? Does she stay by the tree often?" saying over his shoulder in thanks as he half pushed, half carried his companion along.

"No stranger." The farmer laughed, "She is the tree."

In the early days of Hewdamia, the Gods squabbled over the world and took what they could from the each other. There was little here but water and soil, yet the Three Gods fought over it still. The arrival of the newer Gods marked a turning point in the world as well as the Gods. The arrival marked the beginning of a war that wouldn’t see the first blow for centuries.

What happens when the very fabric of magic is transformed into something else by accident. When the theories of transference are shattered due to lack of preperation and study?

As long as you do not experiement around your stash of magic scrolls, luckily you will never know.

This is a study of the effectiveness of not the individual but a group of individuals. This is an Open Ended Plot which will not be fleshed out by a single person but by who ever chooses to add content.

The stone and I have the same desires,
Day in, day out.
We want by each other to be sought,
And we want to embrace each other taut.
The stone and I have the same desires,
Day in, day out.

An often misunderstood poem of the Heartstone rings.

"Prophecy today is hardly the romantic business that it used to be. The old tools of the trade, like the sword, the hair shirt, and the long fast in the wilderness, have given way to more contemporary, mundane instruments of doom --the book, the picket and the petition, the sit-in at City Hall."

- Jane Kramer

Damn 'ol thing it tis. Itches like nuthin I e'er felt. Stupid bugs, your the Poosker ye fool. Help me get rid o' these damnable things.

I hate to tell you this but you have what we liked to call, 'Puces Barbe Morts', or undead beard fleas. And the only way to be rid of them is to cut off your beard and then burn the hair.

No! Just kill me it's less painful that way.

“Sir, Legatus Suuhai has commanded us to hold and prepare for flank attacks from the enemy. He said we are to hold and be ready to sweep among them. Your order?

Order? If Legatus Suuhai says to hold then we wait. He among the half breeds I respect. He stands like a bastion of strength when those stronger leave puddles at their feet. He says hold, we hold. But tell the others, soon we shall run and blood shall spill this day at our hooves and claws and the Dark Moon shall reign superior yet again.”

Sedecim Ductor Octavious - Commander of the 6th Divortium of the Army of Blades.

And in the name of the great and powerful I command thee to return to your body, hearth and soul, so that you might walk again and continue in the gods plans.

See that. . . wait. . . what!?! NO! I knew it was too risky here. You have brought ruin to us all. Why you ask? Ready your weapon, a traveler has come.

-Father Hayden, performing a ritual on the deceased outside the protection of the church.

In a prison without walls, without guards, and without law; what kind criminal would choose death over a prison such as this?

One destined to go to Hellgate Prison.

And now the day was here, and the people had gathered for the spectacle of my punishment for show throughout the arena the bodies of those about to perish had led off a procession of their own death. My master was sitting there piling up favor derived from our blood. Although no one could know my fortune, my family, my father, because I was separated from my homeland by the sea, among certain spectators nevertheless one thing made me pitiable, that I seem inadequately prepared; truly I was destined to be a certain victim of the arena, no one had caused less expense for the giver of the games than I. One thing they do not know, while I may be inadequate in preparation, the fear of a cornered man knows no bounds.

-Agustine, prisoner of war and Gladiator

The second era started off in better light than the 1st era ended. For almost 500 years there was a rebuilding going on with the Gison, continued growth for the Olwynn, and understanding with the Derevo about the different factions in their families. Like all things, this time had come to and end.

This item is not listed in many tombs of magic, nor is it detailed in any text books among the arcane. It is however sung about in many a tavern and bar across the coastal cities. The tale is sung more about the man who created it. His tale has been embellished time and again until he seemed more a god than the coward that he was.

Death and Resurrection
Life is commonly difficult, especially for those who choose a life of hardship and adventurous excitement. The cycle of life is never ending and continues its birth, life, death cycle for everyone. With divine aid and assistance, however, at times it can extend this cycle greatly, even halting it for a time. Death is different among nearly all game settings. Please read this with the understanding that it may not fit your particular game setting and style, but is an alternative.

From the bone dusted hills of Aadda, to the ocean foam of the pearly bay.
The children of the sweet legions frolic in the streets by day.
At night their games are different, and guards whisper of their skills and feats.
They say that nothing is safe, or too large, for the legions of the Knuckle Sweets.

- A song sung around taverns to honor the children gang.

A family heirloom, worn by the son of a fisherman, that raised them out of squalor and into nobility. What is in a man’s heart that can not be corrupted? What can turn the untainted into rage? Pray to the God’s and you never know the outcome.

Every city, town, or large village will have businesses. Some will be inns, some stores, and some people providing a service. And then there are some places that are not common and so out of the ordinary that we leave them off when describing a city. This codex will help with turning the mundane into the magnificent.

Ishchali has been known by many names, but Caedmon is what he is most widely known for on Hewdamia. His name means many faced, or four face and he is represented by his four different personalities. Most of his past is shrouded in mystery, his many names and faces represent the multi faceted nature of this divine being. Each facet, each face has a different personality and each has its own place and purpose in his plans for the future of Hewdamia, and all those that call him Master.

The sound was most troublesome. Long have I been prisoner to Kormack and his evil designs, and the torturous sounds my heart has been cursed to endure has left me cold inside. I endure and ignore. Cold to the pain and the suffering of poor souls around me. Their Fate forsworn as soon as they enter His lair. But this, this atrocity has pierced my now icebound heart and cracked deep into my very soul. The children... The mewling babes that know nothing of their future, nothing of the joys of life. Innocent of horrors of the world and the dread future it holds. How short that future is. I can not get the sound of the mewling infants from my mind, it is seared into memory as a brand on an animals flank forever to remain. Some have even laughed right up till the end and nothing is more damaging to ones sanity than a broken childs laugh.

Master Blacksmith Heaf Astes