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.

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.

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

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.

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.

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.

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.

“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.

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.

Have you or anyone you know ever been accused of a crime you didn’t commit? Been sent to the Hangman knowing you were innocent? Have you ever welcomed the noose to prove it?

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.

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.

There! Did you see it that time? I swear someone is following us. I keep seeing torchlight through the damn trees. I'm telling you, something is following us.

Thom, your either seeing things or drinking to much. There is no one following us. See look . . . wait, they look . . . they look like spiders but they are on fire!

- Last words of Micha, Traveller and Explorer.

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.

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.

"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 a world where it seems that even the smallest of ideals has a deity to call a patron, even bastards have a patron god to call their own.

From the depths of the void the masses crash through the Gates of Forlorn and wreak havok on the world of men. The flood is an unending tide of chaos and destruction that is everlasting. Their thirst for blood is surpassed only by the rising of the son, on it stands eternal. On the comming of the Flood, the children of the lost god will reign supreme on a charred world where the people are enslaved, and the rulers are Demonblood.

- Excerpt from the tome of Caedmon.

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

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.