Millenia ago the Gods changed how the mystical forces on the world were governed and used. No longer were the mortals able to pluck the power from the very air and use it. So they altered it, thinking the mortals were not clever enough to find a way to use it again. The God’s crystalized the magic and placed the power in the four elements of the world. Now mortals did indeed determine a way to use magic again, albeit at a much lower proficiency. Magic users now require a focus staff made of the very essence of magic. These crystal staves store the mystical energies required to cast spells, needing to be recharged over time. The magic users scribe, etch, or carve the spells symbols directly on the staves and focus the energy through the symbols.

"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

To the first or casual observer, this island sitting out in the ocean seems normal, if not heavily covered with lush trees and foliage. To those who have extensive nautical experience know something is amiss, especially since the island is never in the same place twice.

My fellow councilor’s, the entire watch was assassinated by the Arch-Duke of Torr wanting to open up a hole in the defense of the city. His intent was obviously to try and make it easier for him to conquer us.

But ser, how do we know for sure that you are right in your assumptions? After all you just recently arrived to the city and were unaware of the murders until we spoke of it here.

Ser! That is because I am a genius and you are not.

- Ser Marcus Hadokk, self proclaimed genius.

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

Blood Spiders are dark brown rust color, nearly the color of dried blood and have a body that is approximately 5’ wide, not including their legs. They have a desire only for survival and are not malicious. Tell that to one of their victims.

To kill a Unicorn is to bring bad luck and the hatred of nature itself down upon the foolish. It is said that the mate of a unicorn that is murdered will turn horrible in it’s pain and anger, turning against nature to hunt and kill the murderer of it’s mate. It turns dark and soulless and seeks nothing but the death of it’s enemy.

You should feel proud today, knowing that you will be the reason why another person will live. Why they will escape the brink of death and be able to heal all injuries. This is a great thing and you should feel elation knowing because of you, they will live. Unfortunately you must die for them to live; such is the way of the world.

-Inganno - Follower of Caedmon, Alchemist of Shadow

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 compilation of all the creatures I have in the world of Hewdamia.

The eyes of the all seeing are never ending. The truth can only be revealed to those willing to bear the burden.

His eyes opened in disbelief, the battered spectacles rising slightly on his brow. To everyone around him, everything was normal. As it should be. To his eyes, the light was nearly unbearable. An aura of energy filled his vision completely. He knew what it was he saw, what the others could not. He knew he saw the impossible, and he wanted it all for himself.

Old cultures since the dawn of written time have seen pictures in the night sky and asked questions of them. Who they were, where did they come from, and why do they return? The earliest efforts to distinguish these nightly visitors and give them names and meanings dates back to before the Contention of Aborior. Those first observations were different than what is seen today but most still hold true to their original origins.

The call to Him is unnerving. The power He gives is unmatched. He is the reason why I turned my back on my God and now worship Him. I will live eternal for the trade of my Soul to a God. I can live with that.

-Rakeos -Follower of Sethalis, fallen Priest of Aduivo

The crowd erupted in a bright flash of multi-colored light, red and green flashing once each blinding those to near. The clash of metal on metal rang over the dinn of the voices of the market place. Cries of a fight swept through the streets ending up at the ears of the city watch.

“Someone broke a seal again. Thats to bad, as I didn’t want to have to kill anyone today.”

- Corporal Watesan, 2nd Shift of the day watch. Cerb City, Cerb.

Death is an art form. Where can a single act that is repeated by every single life at least once in their lifetime and have multiple emotions involved in each one. I relate this in a similar manner as a dramatic play. You look into the audience at the height of the emotional act and you see ranges of emotion from everyone. I experience this every time I watch the eyes of a guasto widen and become cold to look at. You should witness this yourself, to understand your own immortality and how to overcome it. Look into the mirror as your life trickles away and the truth will be revealed.

- Janus Sanguine High Priest of the Jongleurs Sanguine

The question was asked about how you run a high level campaign. While this is a simple question it is not very simple to answer. Anyone who is an experienced DM will tell you that, especially for a beginner. In order to answer this I began thinking backwards.

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."

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.

“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.