Ancient's Table • Bastion of Flames • Blackscale Sepulcher • Bloodskull Valley: The Training Grounds • Cazel's Mesa • Condemned Catacombs • Court of Innovation • Cove of Decay • Crypt of Valdoon • Deathfist Citadel • Den of the Devourer • Tower of the Drafling • Eternal Gorge • Firemyst Gully • Gobblerock's Hideout • Nest of the Great Egg • Halls of Fate • Hidden Cache • Mines of Meldrath • Nektropos Castle: The Return • Nektropos Castle: Tribulation • Nektropos Castle • Nizara, City of the Nayad • Obelisk of Blight • Poet's Palace • Valley of the Rogue Magi • Scornfeather Roost • Shard of Fear • The Acadechism • The Sanctorium • Tombs of Night • Estate of Unrest • Vault of Dust • The Sanctum of Fire • Vault of the Fallen • Vaults of El'Arad • Crypt of T'Haen
Goodies for Grobb:
Accessorizing, Grobb Style • Fundamental Furnishings • Home Cooking • Snapper Security • Swamp Reeds
Working Hard for Tupta:
Getting Plastered • House Repairs • Pottering Around • Swamp Treats • Tupta Toys
Accord Assistance:
A Rush Job • Air Repair • Letters From Home • Swamp Foot Lotion • To Dye For
Far Seas Supply Division:
Shipyard Services/Shipyard Building Work • Clockwork Rescue/Clockwork Components • Emergency Portal Repairs/Building a Better Portal • Supply Stocking/Firemyst Supply Stocking
Far Seas Supply Division Weekly:
A Recipe for Disaster • Rescuing the Relics • Restocking the Stores
Craftkeepers:
Bready Goodness • Full Metal Artisan • Eats Shoots and Leaves • Stonebrunt Express • Paineel Replenishment • Further Essential Studies • Back to the Grindstone
Hua Mein Craftsmen:
A Tasty Task • Hua Mein Craftsmanship • Hua Mein Heating • The Bear Necessities • Netting More Fish • Shining Shells • Honoring the Ancestors
Kerra Isle Outfitters:
A Close Eye on Quel'ule • Kerra Kindling • Kerra Clothing • Weaving A Profit • Herbal Healing • Paw Tips and Tail Feathers • Defensive Dressing
Researchers of Quel'ule:
Supplies for the Fighters • Sampling More Strangeness • Reporting to Paineel • Equipping the Front Line • Rebuilding Materials • Reinforcing the Wards • Tracking the Void Influence
Obol Plains:
Tonic for the Soul • Herbs and Spirits • Focused Fire • Where Are All The Clean Bedrolls?
Far Seas Trading:
Botanical Divergence • Reporting Home • Fishing Up Fauna • Researching the Recordings
Altar of Malice Daily:
Sampling the Danger • Sour Tooth • Grim Running • Legendary Pepper • Salve Supplies • Small Arms for Small Arms • Fruitful Foraging
This is the journal of a very important Lieutenant in the Second Rallosian Empire.
Day 332, 291:
First Lieutenant Mugreeza has learned the price of failure. She could not see what I saw. She could not see that the Frogloks are cunning. She did not know of the caves of Guk.
I did. Now the General knows. And now I am First Lieutenant. As it should have been from the beginning.
Day 70, 294:
My command will listen to what I say, for I am their leader. The General is no longer here. He marches with the Arm of Vallon to the scourge the world to the west.
The Arm of Tallon marches to join with the dirty orcs. My command now marches to Guk. We will annihilate the Frogs one and for all. Then we will annihilate the rest.
Day 339, 297:
My command bristles at my orders. Do they not know that I was chosen as First Lieutenant? Do they not understand that I am the General to them?
They will listen. Yes. They will listen.
Day 67, 299:
We have found some more of the pathetic trolls living in the swamp. The Frogloks will wait to be cleansed. I have a better idea. One that the General will appreciate.
We will take the Innothule swamp as ours. The Feerrott has been claimed. Soon this swamp will, too.
Day 156, 302:
I have lost more of the soldiers to these swamps. The enslaved trolls continue to track down their brethren.
When the refuse to do so, I personally draw and quarter them for all to see. This proves very effective.
Day 466, 304:
The trolls have begun to fight back. This will not be tolerated.
The soldiers are now listening to my orders. Now they know that I speak for the General. I have not had to kill any soldiers at dawn for close to a week now.
This is good. I do miss the disembowlings, however.
Day 14, 307:
The Trolls continue to crawl out of the swamp. Just as we kill one hundred, we watch as two hundred flee in different directions.
They have no courage. We should have killed the trolls first then killed Frogs. I will see to correcting the mistake.
Day 234, 310:
We are beginning to run out of food. The last of our troll dogs we have were eaten today. The soldiers are beginning to complain. I have ordered the next Rallosian who utters a word of contempt will be the next to served as dinner. This will quiet them for now.
Day 9, 313:
My troops only listen to my orders when we are fighting Frogs. The doomed race does not know that death is coming for them.
They do not know that we know where they are. They will see death coming for them. They will feel it. They will embrace it.
Day 67, 313:
I have ordered all of my Rallosian troops to let the worthless trolls flee for now. When the Arms of Tallon and Vallon unite again, that is when they will be used to crush the trolls.
My purpose is more important. We stand before the caves of Guk. Within lies our prey.
Books
1st Lieutenant Danarg, 313 AS This item can be placed on the floor in any house type.
A competent bookbinder is a valuable resource who can restore any book that's had pages removed.
This is the journal of a very important Lieutenant in the Second Rallosian Empire.
Day 105, 313:
They do not know we are here. They believed we would not know of this place. We did. I did.
When the final Froglok lay dead at the feet of my twenty thousand troops, I will name these caves after myself. With the General's blessing, of course.
Day 212, 313:
A messenger has come saying that the Rathe Mountains have been taken by the Arm of Tallon. This is as it should be.
I killed the messenger so that he would not be able to return my report. The General does not need to know that things are not running to schedule.
Day 400, 313:
I have lost many troops to the cunning of the Frogloks. Springing from the murky depths, they rained both fire and ice upon us.
Many of my brave soldiers died to protect the most important Rallosians amongst us. If their Lieutenant were to die, how would they know the orders of the General?
Day 34, 314:
We have slaughtered their elite warriors today. Our numbers are now half, but this leaves thousands.
The Frogloks can hear us coming. We can hear their fear.
Day 122, 314:
We have driven them further into the caves. Why do they not accept their deaths? I am here to give it to them.
My troops, my Rallosians, we are here to bring them death. It will be a sweet mercy to them for all they suffered.
Day 246, 314:
The dead have risen to fight us. The Frogloks mean to use their bones to overpower the strength of the Rallosian Empire. MY Rallosian Empire.
This will not happen. They have died once. They will die again.
Day 313, 314:
We have found where the last of the Frogloks have hidden. Here in the lower depths of Guk, they are now trapped. Deep below the earth, they already stand within their tomb.
There is no way out. Our forces are too many. I have had horns fashioned from the skulls of the fallen. They will play as my victory completes.
Day 420, 314:
They are all dead. Once and for all. There are no more Frogloks.
The Froglok Lord sat upon his throne, waiting for me. We faced off in mortal combat.
He did not expect my blade to be poisoned. His honor failed him in the end.
Day 33, 315: We leave these caverns tomorrow. My troops, one thousand strong, have succeeded. We have scourged all life from the upper and lower ends of Guk. This would not have been possible without my leadership. I am the greatest general the Rallosians could ever wish for. Aside from the General, that is.
Day 90, 315:
The Rallosian Empire spans the lower half of Antonica. My Rallosian Empire. I am the one who conquered the Frogloks.
I am the one who reduced the numbers of the trolls. I am as strong as the General and I will prove it.
My troops will launch a surprise attack and take the greatest city on Norrath - RALLOS!
Books
1st Lieutenant Danarg, 315 AS This item can be placed on the floor in any house type.
A competent bookbinder is a valuable resource who can restore any book that's had pages removed.
This is the journal of a very important Lieutenant in the Second Rallosian Empire.
Day 130, 315:
I have had to kill my advisor today. He was a traitor. He claimed that it was folly to attack our own city.
Did he not know whom he was speaking to? Does he know what he was speaking to the General? The General of the Rallosian Empire!?
Day 160, 315:
The march is long but it must continue. One cannot hold the element of surprise if we succumb to sluggishness. I will not tolerate disobedience. I will hold another speech tomorrow. The morale of the troops always builds after they hear my voice.
Day 178, 315:
We near Feerrott. This is just as I had planned. I have sent out a scout party to warn us if any trolls try to sneak up. They have not relayed any messages back to the division.
I fear this can only mean one thing. Trolls have taken them.
Day 207, 315:
With a heavy heart, I sent the third scout party to look for the remains of the first two. My troops now number five hundred.
This will be enough to take the city of Rallos, however. My troops have one thing that Rallos does not have. My leadership.
Day 243, 315:
My troops have fallen sway under a strange Froglok spell. Using deceitful troll magics, the vile fiends ensorcelled one hundred of my troops.
In their enchanted state, they spoke of mutiny. Unfortunately, they could not be saved.
I ordered their brains kept in sacks so that they can be used as warding charms against evil alligator ghosts.
Day 290, 315:
As I sit within this great circle of stones, I taste each one of the rocks. The blood in my mouth masks the flavor, so I am unable to accurately tell which of these boulders is the truth teller.
All of them say that I will die in different ways. I will not tolerate disobedience! These rocks will be toppled!
Day 321, 315:
In the distance is the mighty city of Rallos. Tomorrow we will take it as ours. For the first time in the history of the Rallosian Empire, our capital will finally be under the rule of Rallosians. And I will be their Great Emperor.
For am I not already First Lieutenant Danarg? Am I not already the General Uurduk? Am I not already the Avatar of War? Yes. I am. And Rallos Zek, too! I must not forget I am also him.
Day 360, 315:
The invasion will begin in a matter of moments. I have devised a plan that involves all of us dressing as washerwomen.
We will offer to sell the city a basketful of onions. When they open the gates, we will take the city. The gates are already open, though.
We must tell the city to close the gates before we offer to sell them the onions or my plan will not work. Yes. Yes, that will work perfectly!
Day 400, 315:
The greatest victory since the creation of the world has happened today. We have taken Rallos!
The citizens must have gotten wind of our plan. In their pure terror of my cunning, the absolute entire populace killed themselves! Everywhere throughout the city, their corpses line the streets, grasping at their throats!
Day 5, 316:
What's this? Ahhh... my troops are bringing me to my coronation ceremony. As they walk towards me, I can already see them drawing their blades in a salute to my brave leadership.
Yes, yes... they are so astonished at my victory, they cannot even replace the looks of hatred and rage on their faces with ones of joy and love. Let me close this book so that I may welcome my subjects with open arms.
Books
1st Lieutenant Dergud, 263 AS This item can be placed on the floor in any house type.
A competent bookbinder is a valuable resource who can restore any book that's had pages removed.
This is the journal of a very important Lieutenant in the Second Rallosian Empire
Day 72, 263 AS:
Urduuk has granted me great honor in making me his first Lieutenant. He has chosen well. I will not fail him.
Today marks a glorious day. I will make the first true warriors of our people. I will learn from the Avatar and thrust that learning upon all ogres.
Day 159, 273 AS:
Training goes well. I see flaws and I know how to fix them.
The Avatar has granted me insight and shown me the truth of weakness. If a soldier does not succeed, other soldiers will learn from his mistake. Second chances are for the weak.
Day 390, 274 AS:
The General Urduuk has brought us weapons as he promised. Shaped in the image of his holy sword, we now bear weapons worthy of our kind.
Bronze no longer belongs in our hands. Our enemies will feel death from fine steel. A soldier will be bound to his weapon, for he and it are the same.
Day 114, 275 AS:
Drilling will continue for the next two days. Disobedience will not be tolerated.
Those that die during the lessons will be ogres. Those that pay in blood and sweat will be true Rallosians.
Day 276 AS:
Our Rallosian army strengthens. I have chosen two of the most obedient to be Lieutenants just as I am.
The General designed the armor to be given the troops. I am to inform every soldier they must forge their own armor. The heat of the forge must come from the peat of our home.
The water that cools the metal must be their blood.
Day 48, 277 AS:
The General and the Avatar demand a demonstration of the troops. If the men fail, this will show that I have failed.
The General will grant me the honor of severing my own head from my shoulders, for I am his Lieutenant.
Day 49, 277 AS:
The wargame has proven me as a true Rallosian. The shock troops have shown they will die when told to.
The support troops have shown they will kill their own when told to. The Rallosians now number one hundred score. Training must be doubled.
Day 212, 278 AS:
The General will take the first legion and will destroy the surrounding undead. No longer will we suffer them.
We are not ogres. We are Rallosians. Their brittle bones will become as dust under the boot of the Empire.
Day 215, 278 AS:
The lizardmen were no match for a handful of Rallosians. Their group could not flee, for we kept coming.
We will kill more lizardmen if they interfere. The Avatar was pleased to see this. The General nodded his head in approval.
We will bring our might upon the Frogloks. They will be annihilated. I so swear upon the name of the General and the name of The Warlord, Rallos.
Day 93, 279 AS:
I will not train the Trolls. They are not Rallosians. They are only fodder that does not deserve the honor of battle.
I have made four more Lieutenants like me. Now there are seven. They will train these worthless creatures, for so the General has decreed.
I will join the General in rebuilding Oggok.
Books
1st Lieutenant Dergud, 279 AS This item can be placed on the floor in any house type.
A competent bookbinder is a valuable resource who can restore any book that's had pages removed.
This book is the journal of a very important Lieutenant in the Second Rallosian Empire.
Day 100, 279 AS:
The people are soft. I spent too much time training soldiers. I did not see the rest of the people need to be made into Rallosians, too.
We will not live like beasts as our forefathers had. I will see to this, for I am the General's Lieutenant.
Day 160, 279 AS:
Oggok will no longer suffer incompetence. We will have a grand city as we deserve.
This will require the hard work from everyone - man, woman, child. Those who will not shoulder the burden will suffer.
Day 24, 283 AS:
Those that cannot fight will craft. Those that cannot craft will supply food. Those that cannot supply food will be fed to the trolls.
Those the trolls will not eat will, I will gut open and remove from the city. I have moved many today. I will continue. Oggok has no room for the useless.
Day 298, 284 AS:
The city is being built under the eye of the General and myself. He wants it done faster.
I can make the people move faster. We will leave Oggok behind as a testament to our home. Soon enough we will destroy the lesser races and take Norrath. For now, we will build. Then we will destroy.
Day 473, 284 AS:
The Avatar does not want the temple to Zek rebuilt. He says we must battle. I say we must show our greatness to the nothing races.
The General agrees with the Avatar and he his stricken me across the face, taking my eye. He is my General, so he may take my eye if he wishes.
Day 41, 287 AS:
The new houses have been built. The people have been moved into the homes according to station and rank. The Troll cages have been built as well.
The lesser Lieutenants have not trained the Trolls well. They enjoy pain too much. It is a distraction for them. They will be put on leashes, for they are nothing but our dogs.
Day 375, 287 AS:
The General has said it is time for the troops to be split among legions. I am to organize the thousand score troops and give them their mark.
The General says they are to be marked in the name of Tallon and in the name of Vallon. I will see to their branding.
Day 440, 287 AS:
They have been trained well. I killed only but seven of the thousand score for flinching in pain.
A Rallosion will not flinch when branded with searing metal. The lesser races would call this cruelty. The Rallosian calls this their birthright.
Day 77, 289 AS:
Battle plans have been laid. The Avatar of War demands to the General that we acquire more armies. I say to the General that the Second Rallosian Empire is enough. The Avatar of War speaks of another Avatar who commands the orcs. He says the orcs possess something the Rallosians do not. They possess tactics. I agree. We will take their tactics and use them.
Day 104, 289 AS:
The General has rallied all five thousand score of the Rallosians. He says it is time to destroy the world.
I agree.
Books
1st Lieutenant Dergud, 289 AS This item can be placed on the floor in any house type.
A competent bookbinder is a valuable resource who can restore any book that's had pages removed.
This book is the journal of a very important Lieutenant in the Second Rallosian Empire.
Day 107, 289 AS:
This world has not known the Rallosians for many centuries. It is time for the world to remember.
We no longer suffer the curse of the Rathe. Now we will have our vengeance upon Norrath. The warning horns have been sounded for five hours. I have never heard anything more beautiful.
Day 120, 289 AS:
The Feerrott has been our homeland for centuries. Nature has reclaimed it in our absence. We have returned. We will take it back.
The bones of walking ancestors will no longer disturb the living as the Army moves forward.
Day 140, 289 AS:
The General leads us to the south. I am not aware of our direction, but I have instructed my soldiers that they are to destroy everything they see.
We have sighted more lizardmen. They have been destroyed.
Day 160, 289 AS:
The Avatar walks with us and tells us that we will be given even more help.
We do not need help. We are the Rallosian Empire. We do not subjugate. We do not enslave. We annhilate.
Day 170, 289 AS:
The lizardmen have been driven even further south. Many villages have been found and razed, but this is not satisfying.
Our goal is not to kill lizards, it to destroy frogs. And then we kill everything else. We are spending too long in our goal. But our soldiers are obedient.
Day 193, 289 AS:
The soldiers have been tested today. We have reached the forbidden temple and find it filled with life that must be destroyed.
They followed the General's orders given by me. This makes me proud. They did not kill the tentacle-headed creatures that guarded the temple. This does not make me proud.
Day 199, 289 AS:
A week has passed and now we march again. The Avatar and the General spoke with the tentacle-headed creatures.
They will not join our force. Their Avatar of Fear has forbidden us from the temple. We are Rallosians, not dogs. We will leave for now.
They will pay.
Day 240, 289 AS:
My soldiers have reported a cavern leading to a world of nightmares. I have personally ended twenty of their lives.
A Rallosian does not fear anything.
Day 241, 289 AS:
The General has commanded we are not to go near what he calls the Gate.
I do not understand. We are Rallosians. We do as we please. We are Rallosians.
Day 270, 289 AS:
The General has explained to me the deal made between the two Avatars back at the temple.
I tell him that we do not need the Trolls, even as dogs. He has told me that Second Lieutenant Mugreeza will have more information in her tent. I leave for there now.
Books
1st Lieutenant Mugreeza, 289 AS This item can be placed on the floor in any house type.
A competent bookbinder is a valuable resource who can restore any book that's had pages removed.
This book is the journal of a very important Lieutenant in the Second Rallosian Empire.
Day 271, 289:
The Rallosians will no longer take direction from a frightened old man. My General has chosen Dergud's successor wisely - Me.
His head will be atop my standard flag to let the soldiers know that weakness will not be tolerated. No one is too young to die. No one is too old.
Day 409, 289: The final lizardman village has been slaughtered. Their death squeals filled the trees. This raised the soldier's morale to all time heights. I will not tolerate unhappy soliders under my command. Any soldier that is unhappy will have their midsection cut open and dragged at the end of the marching line.
Day 3, 290:
The Feerrott is nearly ours. I have sent four platoons to find the last of those who remain within marsh.
The General has ordered us to return to Oggok. We will celebrate the first of many victories.
Day 75, 290:
We have tasted victory and it is sweeter than blood. Oggok is no more. What stands is now Rallos, the capital city of the Rallosian Empire.
We are not stupid beasts that stomp across the land.
We leave tomorrow to show the Frogloks that we are horrible beasts that will stomp across the skulls of all who are not Rallosian.
Day 77, 290:
Rallos lies behind us by many leagues. The marsh is quiet. No sounds of birds chirping. No sounds of splashing in the pools. No sounds of frogs croaking.
Soon, this will change. We will hear plenty of Frogs croaking. Soon.
Day 200, 290:
Boredom is settling in. I cannot stand it. I have not killed an opponent in seven days.
I am tiring of killing my soldiers. Their obedience makes them too easy. I will push them harder.
Day 272, 290:
I have been left in command. The General has taken several platoons and leaves with the Avatar.
I have been given explicit orders. My General knows they will be followed. Our course of direction changes slightly.
Day 441, 290:
The troll dogs smelled them before we could hear them. Dergud had wasted a resource with his foolish pride.
The trolls are worth their weight in gold. They eat a lot, but they will eat their own if they get too hungry. They are excellent hounds. And now, we have found more.
Day 24, 291:
The Troll villages have been razed. Those that did not come willingly are being kept in the larders for the ones who did.
They will be kept on leashes and placed at the front. These beasts will serve their purpose for as long we are within this dismal swamp.
Day 70, 290:
The troops need to see action. They have already slaughtered one third of the trolls in their frustrations. This will not be tolerated.
Were we not so close to Gukta, I would give the troops a lesson in obedience.
I understand them, however. We will all feel much better once we are wading in the blood of the Frogloks instead of this brackish water.
Books
1st Lieutenant Mugreeza, 290 AS This item can be placed on the floor in any house type.
A competent bookbinder is a valuable resource who can restore any book that's had pages removed.
This book is the journal of a very important Lieutenant in the Second Rallosian Empire.
Day 3, 290:
We have met our first Frogs today. The battle did not last long.
It has been too long since we last slaughtered any one. Praise Rallos that there are more where these ones came from.
Day 74, 290:
We are being harassed on all ends. These Frogs don't understand that we are Rallosians.
We will not be defeated. It is not possible.
Let them skirmish all they like. It will make no difference in the end.
Day 102, 290:
The first wave has passed. They are now sending the next wave. Riding upon the backs of lizard creatures, they believe they will beat us.
Let them come. They have only seen our trolls, not the true Rallosians.
Day 141, 290:
We are running out of our beasts. The trolls are no match for cooperation of the Frogloks.
I have played my hand by showing the Frogs one troop unit. We are now the proud owners of thousands of Froglok knights. Our food supplies will last for years.
Day 159, 290:
I have sent a Froglok back to his home. He will send the message to their people.
Our terms are this - Open the gates and we will slaughter them quickly. Hold out, and we will take our time.
I took the messenger's eyes as a receipt that he will deliver the message.
Day 163, 290:
A messenger has arrived from Rallos. We are to stay where we are and fortify the area.
This spot we stand at will be our base of operations during the push into Gukta.
The siege will continue once the General has arrived.
Day 390, 290:
The messages come more regularly now. The General is close. He, with the Avatar of War, has visited with some foreigners.
I do not understand, but he is my General. I trust his wisdom as long as I am part of the slaughter.
Day 90, 291:
The Frogloks have mistaken our patience for weakness.
I must inform them that we are Rallosians. We are not weak like they are. I have opened the gates to our fort. I invite them inside to lay waste to our camp.
Day 188, 290:
The impaled corpses fill the swamp as far as I can see. Nowhere can one look and not see Froglok corpses rotting from spears.
This message should be loud enough for the Frogloks. Hopefully, it will be loud enough for the world.
Day 307, 290:
Have they no sense? They still keep coming. And we still keep slaughtering them.
I hope their numbers have not dwindled. I will be sorely disappointed when it comes time to destroy their city if they do not put up a fight.
Books
1st Lieutenant Mugreeza, 291 AS This item can be placed on the floor in any house type.
A competent bookbinder is a valuable resource who can restore any book that's had pages removed.
This book is the journal of a very important Lieutenant in the Second Rallosian Empire.
Day 307, 290:
The General has joined us. The cheers of the soldiers are deafening.
The General allows this slip in obedience to slide. I will not. Let them roar like beasts today.
Tomorrow I will hang one hundred.
Day 339, 290:
The General explained to me my order. I am to take three divisions into the eastern regions of the Innothule and rouse the remaining Frogloks.
This will cause them to react in accordance with his plans. I do not question. I only obey.
Day 402, 290:
The Frogs have been given too much time to prepare for the invasion. Their defenses have been underestimated.
This does not matter. Our numbers will crush down the walls of Gukta. Their magic means nothing to us.
Day 443, 290:
We have lost ten score in the past month to the Frogs. They have laid the area with traps.
Is this what has happened to their precious honor? Honor will not bring them victory. Only blind obedience will. They will not last long.
Day 470, 290: Their forces have come from the side. We were not prepared. We have lost one score to the frogs. Their numbers have dwindled. The General says this was their last raid. He can tell by watching their desperation. They have now seen both of the Tallon and the Vallon legions. Their desperation will turn to hopelessness.
Day 45, 291:
The Trolls have broken their leashes. The dogs call out to their dead god, Cazic-Thule.
He will not hear them. No one will hear them. They are of no concern to us any more. They have served their purpose.
We will hunt down the rest later and put them out of their misery.
Day 173, 291:
The walls of Gukta stand before us. The Frogloks will have the honor of being the first to fall to the might of the Rallosian Empire.
The smell of their impending doom fills the air. The smell of their fear thickens it.
It is a good day for them to die.
Day 202, 291:
The walls have toppled. The Frogloks lie at our feet. They have taken from our numbers. We have taken from their future.
The fighting continues as I record this. It will not last for long. I will step forward into the fray and claim my trophies.
Lieutenant Danarg will stay behind and see that not one Frog escapes. They will all die.
Day 245, 291:
There are no more Frogs within Gukta. The Rallosian Empire has brought to them the pain and destruction they deserved.
Their numbers were far less than the General expected. There were no eggs to smash in front of the mothers and fathers.
I believe something may not be right.
Day 331, 291:
I have sent word to Lieutenant Danarg that Gukta has been taken and the destruction has begun.
He is to tell the General that our first battle is done. He is to tell the General that I will give my debriefing.
Gukta is in ruins. Gukta is no more. The Frogloks have been wiped from the face of Norrath.
Books
3rd Lieutenant Gerrog - Logbook This item can be placed on the floor in any house type.
A competent bookbinder is a valuable resource who can restore any book that's had pages removed.
This book is the journal of a very important Lieutenant in the Second Rallosian Empire.
Entry 14:
We march through the Feerott. It is a good march. It is a quiet march. Nothing lives within the Feerrott since we have last passed through. The General personally leads us. The Arm of Vallon marches behind us. The Rathetear Mountains is our destination. We will stomp on the bones of the gods we once defeated.
This time they cannot stop us.
Entry 17:
We have changed course in the march. The forgotten temple of Cazic-Thule is within sight.
The General tells us in command that the Amygdalans will join our ranks or they will be destroyed.
I pray to Rallos that they refuse to join us.
Entry 32:
We have entered the foothills of the Mountains of the fallen Rathe. The Amygdalans have refused to add their numbers to our ranks.
Let them hide in the temple for as long as they wish. It will be their tomb. For now, we will take the land of our forefather's defeat and turn it into victory.
Entry 40:
The General has detached us from the Arm of Vallon. The Arm, hundreds of scores in number, will continue marching north.
They are to cross the Lake of Tears. Then they are to annihilate the gnolls. The Arm of Vallon will conquer the Karana plains. There is no question this will be done.
Entry 57:
My command, led by the General himself, have easily taken the Rathetear Mountains. The Hill Giants recognized our superiority and bowed to our will. The lizardmen have been eradicated.
If I listen closely, I can still hear the sound of the dead gods of the earth weeping. The Rallosians are conquering Norrath. Their curse has failed.
Entry 61:
Taking the Hill Giants with us, the General will no longer tolerate the insolence of the Amygdalans. Their claims of counsel received from the Avatar of Fear are worthless lies.
Their Avatar would never have allowed us to capture the Gate leading to their dead god's plane. The only true Avatar is the one that inspires us - the Avatar of War.
Entry 67:
When I was a runtling, my mother's mother told me of the temple of Fear. She claimed it was filled with unimaginable nightmares waiting to destroy the world. She was wrong.
NOW it is filled with nightmares. Us. The Rallosians.
Entry 79:
The final Amygdalan has fallen to the black blade of the General. The ones we have captured have been forced to watch as we begin to tear down their precious temple.
They incessantly chant prayers to the god of green mist. If their god cannot stop us from tearing down their place of worship, what makes them believe their god will save their worthless hides?
Entry 83:
This great temple lies in ruins. All that stands is the sacred tomb the Amydalans pray to at the center of this temple.
We received word that Guk is being scourged as we speak. The split-pawed gnolls have been exterminated. The Plains are ours. Freeport is about to fall.
The General is about to enter the heart of the temple and personally defile the tentacled one's most holy of all relics - the Forbidden Sarcophagus. When he has done so, the Rallosian Empire will know that we have conquered one half of the world. The other half will follow.
Entry 84:
Bring this journal to your commanding officer, Rallosian. They must know of the fate of General Urduuk. When the box was opened, a green mist oozed out, crawling into the General's nostrils. He barely had time to grasp his throat before falling over dead. One by one, thousands of Rallosians suffered the same fate. I sealed myself away inside a nearby stone coffin before the vapors reached me. It will not be long before I run out of air, for neither air or Green Mist can enter this casket.
I will die as a Rallosian inside this tomb. I will not die as a forever-cured ogre outside to the Green Mist.
Books
a charred book This item can be placed on the floor in any house type.
This book seems to have charred edges, and although it seems rather old, it still seems to give off a faint smell of singed leather. Thumbing through the pages, you notice that a few loose notes are hidden inside the pages, that appear to be transcripts.
...here in my research. I found more examples of the symbol with the followers of Cazic-Thule, near the temple dedicated to him. It seemed to me that they certainly attached some significance to the symbol, perhaps believe it as a representation of the very temple itself. This is not surprising - it does resemble a similar structure, and I could see how they might come to that conclusion, with their simplistic thinking. I have to wonder, however, how it came to them in the first place. Was it passed to them by Cazi...
...ough finding it was a stroke of luck. I believe that while his research is sound on the symbol we collaborated on, I will keep this piece to myself. There is no point in sharing all of my knowledge with him, although it is imperative that I convince him to do exactly that for me. The writing on this is strange, and will take some time to decipher, but I am amazed at how clearly it represents the symbol within the texts. If I can properly decipher this, I might be able to learn the nam...
...zment, it was right there in front of me. I chastise myself for not having put the connection together before, but the halls of Erudin display this symbol prominently. I find it strange that two distinct groups half a world away from one another could be using the same symbol. I wonder more, then, what the origin of this symbol is, and even more so, what the significance of it could be. I find it implausible, then, that the cultures developed these symbols on their own, without some outside influence. Whether they were handed it, found it and adopted it, or an unseen hand guided its development in bot...
...uch of the research I had done would be wasted, if not for this stone slab. I've only managed to translate a portion of it, with the help from the manuals I found in the libraries of Odus. It's clear to me that this is called the Rune of Severing, although what it's significance is to my research is still a mystery. But severing what? And importantly why would such a symbol find its way to the intelligent Highmen and the savage lizard creatures of Cazic-Thule? One thing I am certain of, however, is that it does fit with the other runes that Everling and I have bee...
Books
A Dwarf's Guide to Surviving a Minotaur Attack. This item can be placed on the floor in any house type.
This is a mastery tome. Use the knowledge contained within to gain a basic understanding of the tactics to use against the chosen foe.
The minotaur survival guide is your complete resource for surviving an encounter with these beasts of burden.
You'll learn how to recognize your enemy and choose the right weapons to defend yourself. You'll gain information on killing techniques, along with tips on what to do when on the defense, on the run or on the attack.
Understanding the Minotaur: Minotaurs have often been used as guardians or defenders, and will usually only follow through on an attack if you encroach upon said territory, or have obtained one of their guarded possessions. But be weary as you venture through Steamfont, you may find yourself face to face with these powerful beasts.
Minotaur Attributes: The minotaur is a sentient creature resembling an upright bull or cow. It stands twice as tall as a gnome or dwarf on its hoofed, digitigrade legs. Their broad chests and shoulders add to their intimidating stature, as do the large horns of the bulls.
Minotaurs have a visual spectrum of black and white. They also have great night vision capability, a fact that explains their skill at low light hunting, such as that of mines and cave groups. Minotaurs have excellent hearing. Not only can they detect sound, they can determine its direction or origin even when echoing in many directions.
Tests indicate the range of their hearing to be similar to that of a human, gnome, or halfling.
The minotaur's sense of smell is very acute. They can pick up the smell of another minotaur or that of an intruder and distinguish the two at a much greater distance then previously assumed.
How to Fend Off a Minotaur: 1. Hit back! If a minotaur is coming towards you or attacks you, use anything you have in your possession -- a shield, pick axe, your fist -- to hit the minotaur's eyes, or snout, which are the areas most sensitive to pain. Make quick, sharp, repeated jabs in these areas.
2. If you or one of your group members has a proficiency with spells then those too should be used to injure the beast. Be weary though, the minotaur may also be spell savvy, or have resistances to particular spells.
3. Additionally, if you have other creatures at your command, they can be used to confuse or to attack.
4. Do not allow yourself to get backed into a corner. The more room you have for your battle with these creatures, the better. Minotaurs have many charging battle tactics, which open areas discourage and make less effective.
5. Avoid the horns. The bull minotaurs have large and dangerous horns that can easily be used to gore prey.
6. Blind it! If the attack is happening in a dark location, you can attempt to use its night vision capability against it. Be sure to shield your eyes prior to casting the mesmerization or light spells.
How to Avoid an Attack: The best advice is to avoid mines or caves with known treasures or previously unattainable items of glory. They are bound to be guarded, by test, trial, spells, and beast. Promises of reward by someone unwilling to do the work themselves, are good indicators of such action. But if you find yourself on such a trek keep these pointers in mine:
1. Avoid being in derelict mines or unexplored caves alone. Always stay in groups. Minotaurs are more likely to attack a solitary individual. 2. Do not enter questionable enclosures if you are bleeding or previously wounded. Minotaurs will have a better chance of smelling you. 3. Scout your advancement carefully for tell tale signs of minotaur, such as hoofprints or echoing snorts.
4. Use extra caution when enclosures are dark, and sounds are muffled. It will decrease your chance of sensing the minotaur but they may still be able to sense you.
5. If a minotaur shows itself to you, it may be intimidating you rather than attacking, in hopes that its presence is enough to dissuade you from encroaching further. Back away slowly. Do not make any sudden movements.
6. Do not harass, try to cajole, or bribe any minotaur. Minotaur are known for their fierce, explosive tempers!
7. Although rarely found, you should leave calfs alone. Any adult minotaur will respond to a distress call from a youngster.
8. A minotaur attack is a potential danger for anyone who frequents mines or caves, but it should be kept in perspective. Wolves, undead, and trap chests are responsible for far more fatalities each year.
Books
A History of the Centaur This item can be placed on the floor in any house type.
This is a mastery tome. Use the knowledge contained within to gain a basic understanding of the tactics to use against the chosen foe.
"A History of the Centaur," by Wiseman Oluran, centaur of the Thundering Steppes -- Being a history of the centaurs, as told by one of their own.
In the years after the cataclysms that reshaped Norrath, changes shook the foundations of many societies. Some were forced from ancestral homes, others were reduced to begging and thievery. The centaurs of the Thundering Steppes adapted to the changes in the world in their own way.
A long time ago, when the gods still lived and the moon was whole, the centaurs lived in Karana.
Long did we hunt upon the plains of Karana, racing one another in bands several hundred strong! Tails held high, hooves burnished with thin sheets of copper, silver and gold, the centaurs lived as one with the land.
Centaurs have no creation myth, we know we have always existed. Some say that centaurs were formed by the union of a wood elf queen and the god Karana, which is why centaurs always roam, yet love the land so completely. We centaurs feel no such need to explain ourselves; we have always been, and that is enough.
In the long-ago, female centaurs resented the numerous male centaurs that sought to keep them.
The males sought to cherish, confine and keep the females from harm. The females appreciated this attention not and battles erupted.
To bring peace to the centaurs, Zehadra the Wise decreed that male and female live apart, only to come together at certain times and places. This living arrangement, while not perfect, allowed male and female centaurs to appreciate each other.
Over the years, the Plains of Karana changed, beset by war, by plague, by violent rending of the very earth.
At last, the Shattering desolated the lands so loved by the centaur and brought about the ruin of many of our scattered villages.
Centaurs alone did not suffer, of course. All of Norrath was covered in flame and pestilence, bombarded by shards from the once-veiled moon.
The violence subsided. The face of Norrath was completely changed.
Centaurs returned to what was left of Karana's plains, brought together by the world's suffering and loss.
Fortunately, as the Shattering's destruction lessened and the centaur tribes reunited, there were still bands of female centaurs.
Knowing how close they came to civil war, the male and female centaurs agreed to live by the rules imposed by Zehadra all those years past.
This is still our way. The females come to the males, then leave again, only to return when they are ready or when they must leave behind a male centaur child.
Still, the destruction of so much we centaurs held valuable was disturbing to both male and female.
While we still live mainly apart, our females now live in closer proximity than before. They are strong, courageous and skilled so they do not remain near for protection, but for the surety of knowing that those they love still live.
And we are glad to know that they are near, for we love them fiercely in return.
After the Shattering, the Steelhoof centaurs in particular became bitter over the destruction of their homes and forges, turning to raiding as a way of life.
No longer do they burnish their hooves with metals simply for the beauty of it, but to use in battle with the hill giants that still live in what is now called the Thundering Steppes.
Alas, though we have been strong and true, no longer does the sound of a thousand hoofbeats shake the grasslands of the plains! The vales are filled with sorrow and our long memories cannot dispel thoughts of the beauty that once filled the lands. And yet, there is hope. For grasses grow, forests return and the gods cannot have abandoned their children. We still have hope.
Know, then, the history of the centaurs of the Thundering Steppes. We are proud and have lineage that reaches back through time before all memory. Do battle with us at your own peril.
Blessed be Karana, always.
Books
A Martyr's Tale This item can be placed on the floor in any house type.
This completed book can be placed in your house and read.
"A Martyr's Tale," by an anonymous martyr of the Bloodsabers, who was put to death by the wretched Qeynosians in a show of might at the end of the War of Plagues.
In the darkness, I light a candle to my god Bertoxxulous. See the flame shimmer? See how it wavers as though fending off blows? When I crush the candlewick in my fingers, the light offers no resistance but a mere sting. This is, then, how the Qeynosians are to those of us who know the truth -- they are the wick and we will extinguish them, one by one.
They are foolish, believing that they can win in the end. Though I languish in their prison cell where they fling me the rotted flesh from the battlefield as meat, I know that my faith in Bertoxxulous will be rewarded. Perhaps not now, not in this lifespan...but a reward I shall receive nonetheless. I look to no promise to make me whole, no misguided agreements shackle me.
We nearly had won that day. With the help of our leader, Kane Bayle, we were positioned beneath the city. He gave us advance warning of battle plans and suggested routes we might take to ease our passage through the city's armies. The city acclaimed his leadership; little did they know then where his allegiance lay.
I was a singer at a local eatery and dallied with the men of the Guard. They pretend to be so righteous, such devoted husbands and Guardsmen. Their wives, the mistress in the marriage of a Guardsman to Qeynos, believing all the while that their men were working diligently. But I knew otherwise. I knew the truth about many of those faithless so-called heroes.
One day, I met Kane and we began our affair. He, who had suffered such slighting at the hands of his family, needed my encouragement. I forsook all others to woo him to our side, to the cause of Bertoxxulous. The conquest was easy; he was already intrigued by our god and eager to learn more. I fed him as much as I could, then took him to my mistress, who helped him learn more.
My Kane is not the blind fool his trial makes him out to be -- oh, no! Even while he toyed with me, he already knew what he wanted. He soon cast me aside for larger prey amongst our ranks, but I am not a jealous cat. We needed his strength, his knowledge, his connections. At that time, we had need of him more than he of us. I am grateful to have known him so intimately for so long.
Yes, for so long -- for Kane was one of us for much, much longer than the foolish Bayle family realizes. While they mocked his achievements, cast him aside in order to fawn over Antonius...Kane was with us. He steeped himself in our lore while he covered himself in the mantle that Qeynos wanted to see in him. They thought his work was on their behalf, but it was for us. It was for Bertoxxulous.
They have put up the gallows where we can see it from the barred windows of the prison. They think it will intimidate us, make us squirm before our deaths. I stand beside the window, my spine straight and my head up. I am not ashamed to die for my beliefs. What frightens the "good" people of Qeynos is nothing to a Bloodsaber. I have slain my own family, murdered without a care those who crossed me. No, I am not afraid to die.
How quaint. The guard who watches me was one of my patrons from my old singing days. He offered to release me in exchange for my favor! My gaze weakened him and I let him stay with me. I am not interested in bargaining with a fool. Still, I will miss some of the pleasures of this life...such as keeping the guard intrigued long enough for us to be discovered. He is now sitting in the cell across from mine, crying. The fool.
I will return to finish my work here in Qeynos. This, I already know: I will be assigned to the catacombs below, to the Bayle family's tombs. Though they despise him, they will bury Kane there...and I will follow. Death will grant me more power than I have as a minion in life. I will remain true to our cause and fight against the weak with renewed vigor.
Books
a Thexian log book This item can be placed on the floor in any house type.
Our work in the Lesser Faydark goes well. With each passing day we become closer to discovering the mystery of the artifact hidden here by the monk Wu. I'm quite confident that our spies here will soon obtain enough information to make a full assault upon the monk camp, allowing us to claim those lands in your name.
The monks there are not as weak as we originally had expected. The additional arms and provisions you have approved and sent will only speed our efforts. I assure you that we shall have the item in our possession soon, be it by hook or by crook.
You shall find a detailed account of our findings in the pages that follow within this log.
In your service,
High Dragoon N'Mar Acting Command, Lesser Faydark Forces, Faydwer
Books
Adventures of Jorbo and Mappy This item can be placed on the floor in any house type.
This completed book can be placed in your house and read.
This book is titled "Adventures of Jorbo and Mappy ". It is the story of two halfling boys and how they happened upon some exciting adventures.
One day, Jorbo and Mappy decided to have an exciting adventure and visit far off lands. Packing their bags, they told their moms what they were about to do. With a kiss to their forehead, both mothers gave the two boys their blessing.
It wasn't too long after they began their journey that they were accosted by an orc. The orc told the two boys that they could not cross the bridge until they both told him a joke. If the joke wasn't funny, he would throw them off of the bridge into the water below.
Below their feet was a lake filled with the deadliest fish ever seen in all of Norrath. The lake boiled and bubbled with the fish anticipating their next meal. Jorbo started with a joke about why the duck crossed the lake. When he got to the punchline, the orc said he heard that one before, and took another drink from his jum-jum mug.
Mappy knew if they were going to escape from this wild predicament, he would have to make up a joke no one ever heard before. He looked at the orc and said, "What does the farmer say when he can't find his rake?" The orc looked confused and said he didn't know. When Mappy gave the punchline, "Where's my rake?", the orc started laughing so hard he fell over into the lake.
Then the orc splashed into the lake, all the fish swam away from him. Behind them, they two friends could hear the sound of other orcs running to see what happened, so they left. Knowing they would be taken prisoner in a big castle if they were seen, they ran for the biggest tree they could find and climbed it as fast as they could.
When they were up in the tree, Jorbo and Mappy started getting hungry. They pulled out the food they brought with them and ate it all. Still hungry, they saw a beehive hanging from one of the branches. Digging inside they dug out a handful of honey and had that for desert. That's when little bumblebee bixies swarmed out and started scolding them.
Knowing they would get in trouble if the bixies told their mothers about taking things without asking, they jumped out of the tree and started running. A short while later, they had escaped both the bixies and the orcs inside a crude shelter buried beneath a hillside. What they didn't know was that the little house wasn't empty.
Inside the house was a wicked old witch who called out to them. This witch had evil magical powers, for she knew their names. She then began asking them mysterious questions about what they were doing, and many questions about their mothers. Soon enough, the two friends realized that she was going to use this information in some horrible spell.
Jorbo and Mappy became very quiet, politely refusing to answer any more questions. At that moment, the witch tried used her magical powers and made a strawberry cake appear in her oven. She offered it to the two boys, and being fully under her spell, they ate half of the cake. Coming to their senses when they were finished eating, they said "thank you" and left to explore even further.
The two friends, barely escaping a horrible fate, realized they needed to be more careful, for the world was very dangerous. Behind them a voice told them that they were quite right. Turning around, they saw that the speaker was an adult halfling. The interesting thing about him was that he had scales like a lizard covering his entire body. Who was this mysterious halfling? Well, that's a tale for another day.
Books
Aerakyn History Here and There This item can be placed on the floor in any house type.
The majority of this book appears to be scraps of parchment adhered to the bound book pages. Few of them are written in the same hand, nor on the same parchment. They must have been collected over time.
"According to Lord Vyemm, it is the Awakened's will that a division of arcanists carry out an intriguing task - that of army creation! He has reminded us that the pool of willing dragon and dragonkin recruits for the Awakened Legion is finite, and although we have yet to reach such a point, the new recruits have observably slackened. They have been following many prospects and arcane schools of thought on the issue, beginning with the magical techniques first discovered by the iksar archmage, Atrebe Sathir. They are carrying out their efforts within the Overrealm, where our concealment is assured."
"Kerafyrm consented to our experimentation upon the unhatched, claimed from Western Wastes. We intend to increase their gestation through arcane and alchemical alterations, thus providing our legion with the increased forces it needs."
"No matter what arcane or alchemical change was applied, all of the experiments have resulted in failure; unstable eggs, brittle shelled eggs, still-hatched young, or short-lived kin unable to care for themselves. We are not to be sacrificing any more of the unhatched."
"Our forces suffered a monumental loss within Skyshrine. We had projected high causalities, but felt that the successful outcome, including the decimation of the Claws of Veeshan, would have brought more kin within our ranks, as a result. The offense was not successful, and our legion was diminished. We are in dire need of more kin to refill the ranks we have lost. I have advised Lord Feshlak of this. He assures me that Kerafyrm is aware of the issue, and to not question his brilliance."
"Kerafyrm has begun to utilize the Tear of Veeshan in an effort to locate she, who was known as the Keeper within the Claws of Veeshan, Lendiniara. She hides within another thread of reality, like a frightened hatchling. Her clairvoyance must have revealed her future! No one can hide from the great Awakened One, or stop him from ushering in a new Age of Scale! One of the [dragon mages] casts a draconic location spell upon the Tear, followed by my own chronomagic. The results are impressive! The spells are combined, and amplified by the Tear, opening portals to other threads. She will be found!"
"The most recent thread portal has brought with it great fortune for our ranks! The chrono-location spell had opened a portal near something with a strong connection to Veeshan on the other side, but what awaited the thread scouts was not Lendiniara. The droag scouts found themselves face to face with an army of dragon-elves! Elddar elves in body, but their kindred features were abundantly clear: Wings, horns, and the slight glimmer of scales upon their limbs. There was no doubting they were looking upon other children of Veeshan!"
"Thankfully, the droag scouts were received with curiosity by the dragon-elves, calling themselves aerakyn, and led by another, named Dyn'leth. Upon receiving this report Kerafyrm entered the thread, himself. I assumed that he suspected they were hiding Lendiniara, and had gone to battle, but the truth was even greater! According to others, Dyn'leth attacked Kerafyrm, sealing his doom. How foolish! Kerafyrm returned to the Temple of Veeshan, with Dyn'leth's forces marching behind him. But that was not all he had claimed from their thread!"
"Veeshan's Scale, that is what they call it. I remain unconvinced that it is any more the Wurm Mother's scale as what we hold is truly a tear fallen from her eye, but the symbolism is strong, and their ties to its arcane power is even stronger. This I am convinced of! With it in the Awakened One's clutches, they do his bidding, and carry out every action, unquestioningly. They have grown our ranks to overwhelming numbers, once again! The few remaining members of the Claws of Veeshan hold no chance against the might of the Awakened!"
I have collected these bits of parchment as a record of our role within the Awakened Legion. We are numbers for Kerafyrm's legion, that is all - a body count. He thinks nothing of us as a people!
Somehow, I have managed to erode the Scale's spell that bound me to the Awakened One. I am uncertain how this was accomplished. Perhaps my mind or will was stronger, or the distance between myself and the Scale was great enough to weaken its ties. However it occurred, the magic that keeps other aerakyn in-line, obeying and pleasing The Awakened Legion, no longer binds me.
Remember our heritage! Do not allow our current situation eat away your pride. We are the progeny of Lethar, a black dragon, and Veldyn, an Elddar elf woman - a coupling built on a shaky foundation of deceit. Lethar had approached Veldyn under the illusion of an Elddar male, while she wandered, mourning the loss of many of her kin. She found strength and contentment within Lethar's embrace. When she became with child she knew that it was the gods reassuring her that she and Lethar were to begin their own clan. Her conviction was tested when she looked upon their son, Dyn'leth, for the first time.
Dyn'leth's body exposed his father's deception. But his small form, swaddled by thin wings and crowned by diminutive horn starts, did not invoke feelings of anger or betrayal by Lethar, instead Veldyn was intoxicated by his strength and power. He had chosen her, and showered her with love and devotion, when he could have certainly taken a great many other dragons as his mate. His true physical form was of little consequence to her, he had already proven she held his soul!
Lethar and Veldyn went on to sire many more children through the years, each one a slight variation of their firstborn. She basked in the reassuring power of her growing clan, not just for herself but for her children and lover. Long had the cowl of mourning, for the loss of her fellow Elddar, weighted her with fear of abandonment. She relished the thought of being the matriarch of such powerful new people on Norrath! In time, Dyn'leth took an elven mate and sired more aerakyn, as did his siblings, thus expanding our numbers.
We may be stuck here, in this thread of elsewhere. My brethren, our true history must not be forgotten!
Daeron Ashenwing
Books
Alliz Evol Ew This item can be placed on the floor in any house type.
A competent bookbinder is a valuable resource who can restore any book that's had pages removed.
This is a folktale concerning the lizard people of the Feerrott.
This is a story that tremors in the earth like the worm of below. It splits the tail as it does the tongue.
This is a truth that can become a lie if it is spoken too much so beware. Listen to the tale and you will know.
Choose your Ew and you shall know. Know the Alliz Evol Ew.
The many worlds wrap around us like the smell of the swamp on our tongue. The world with the five moons and the two moons are only real.
The worlds that are not real do not exist until they do. The world of the shattered moon and the world of no moons and all moons do not exist.
The Alliz Evol Ew know this. And we know they are real.
The fourth secret is not known to the Tae Ew. This is what fills our heart with the slowness of night.
Ew can be felt by all. Ew is where the hunger is filled. When we walk the world of Ew as one mind, we no longer have the consuming within our guts.
The Tae feed their hunger upon Evol. This will no longer be when we are all within Ew.
We are one within the Ew. All that is and all that can be is within the Ew.
As the warmth of the sun leaves our body, we make a new one within the Ew. All are now within the Ew. All that are Evol.
None that are Tae.
In the Ew we thrive as one. In the world of the two moons that will not be, we are taken to the false secret of the Tae.
Within the eggshell, we gaze upon the lie of the Tae. It does not frighten us for we know of the true Ew.
We are given to false secret and we are consumed by the hunger of the Tae. The Evol become smaller within the two moon world, but we become bigger within the Ew.
We Evol are no longer Onu. The Onu will be as one. In the Ew, we are greater than all alone.
If we are not dead enough for life, are we not alive enough for death? We are two and we are one and we are two. The Evol are two, for the worlds can become as one.
The Alliz Evol Ew walk in the waking world as the Evol. The Alliz Evol Ew walk in the sleeping world as Alliz Ew Saur. They are the same. We are Onu.
The soft land with the water is no more than the water with the soft land. They are barriers between worlds, just like the Ew and the Here.
Two that cross at the same time, these world. Alliz are two. Evol are two. We Alliz Evol Ew are in the Here. We Alliz Ew Saur are in the Here.
We are many and we are one.
Our numbers are given to the false secret of the Tae. Our numbers are given to the ogres and the trolls and the furry worms.
We grow smaller as the Alliz Evol Ew. We grow larger as the Alliz Ew Saur. We Evol stand within our home of water and bog.
We Saur move between the earth and wind and will be with we Evol.
We Evol no longer live within the Ew. We live only within the Here.
The secret given to use by the multi-color lizard stand before us.
We are not Alliz Onu. We are Alliz Evol Ew. We are not Alliz Tae Ew. We are Alliz Ew Saur. Our fourth secret will be shown to the false fourth secret of the Tae.
Then we will be Alliz Onu.
We are the Alliz Ew Saur and we are the Alliz Evol Ew. The Tae see us at the same time.
We do not see their secret. Their eggshell is empty of yolk. They have no Kaz'zar'aik'Chuel.
Their truth has been spoken too much and now becomes a lie.
Books
Alliz Onu This item can be placed on the floor in any house type.
A competent bookbinder is a valuable resource who can restore any book that's had pages removed.
This is a folktale concerning the lizard people of Feerrott. It looks as if it was translated from another language.
This is a story made from wind and earth. This is a truth that can become a lie if it is spoken too much, so beware.
Listen to the tale and you will know. Listen with your tongue and you shall see. See how we have been one but are now two. Know the Alliz Onu.
In the land of the five moons, the stars still spoke with us. They taught us the secrets of the marsh. They taught us the secrets of fire.
But the stars did not teach us the secrets of our heart. We could not feed until this secret was known.
Onu is who we were. Onu was what we felt. And this was how we lived.
Many times the wings of the root flies would be used to wipe away our smells. Without the smell of the Onu, we could find the secret of the heart of the Onu.
One must always remember this.
We could not hear the screams, but we knew they were there. We could smell them coming from the great stones that grew with edges.
The Onu knew that within the eggshell of these stones held a secret. We had been given three by the stars, but we could not feed until we owned the fourth.
The Onu with no scent would steal the fourth secret. The egg would be cracked and the mystery revealed.
We Onu with the scent would remain to tend to the clutch. During this time, we would not feed until the fourth secret was known.
We Onu who had opened a hole within the great edged stones would hold our bravery. This is why there was no scent.
We Onu who would hold the clutch could feel the hunger and this we held too.
The horned lizard with four legs and two more above spoke for the stars.
The light of the north sky would follow this great lizard and the lizard would follow it.
The white lizard was there when the night would come and was not there when the day warmed our skin. The hooved lizard would show us the fourth secret.
We now knew the secret of the Onu's heart. The secret was Ew.
We Onu would return from the inside of the stone egg. We Onu would say that we knew the fourth secret.
We Onu knew the secret of the Onu's heart. Now we knew the fourth secret and we knew the fourth secret. There were two that could only be one.
And this is why we Onu are now two.
We Onu knew that the fourth secret could only be known when the day was gone. The secret to our hearts was between our eyes.
And if we could open our heart, we Onu could make the world command our bidding. When we were one being within the world that is not, we feed and we are Evol.
When we are within the world that is, we are Alliz Evol Ew.
We Onu knew that the fourth secret was not for us. The fourth secret is Ew.
The secret will now be Kaz'zar'aik'Chuel. We are the Alliz Onu. We will now be the Alliz Tae Ew.
Now that the secret is known, the secret will be given to and it will give unto us. We can give more if we feed. We feed only on those that do not know Ew and what Ew is now.
Books
Alliz Tae Ew This item can be placed on the floor in any house type.
A competent bookbinder is a valuable resource who can restore any book that's had pages removed.
This is a folktale concerning the lizard people of the Feerrott. It looks as if it was translated from another language.
This is a story made from salt whispers so one must check for the scent. This is a truth that can become a lie if it is spoken too much so beware.
Listen to the tale and you will know. Choose your Ew and you shall know. Know the Alliz Tae Ew.
The Evol do not know the secret as we do. We must give this secret with our teeth and our gizzards.
This is the only way, for the secret has shown us. The Evol resist us giving them the secret. There is no other way.
The Evol do as we tell them. We tell them to leave the warmth of the holy site of the fourth secret.
They will walk the lands of flowing sap and running blood and the fanged flies. They must chew the acrid air and have the cold of the night wash over them.
This makes the feeding better.
Not the Tae, not the knowers of the secret, not the givers to the Kaz'zar'aik'Chuel. They are Evol and we are not.
The secret promises that when we are on Onu again, the fourth shall tell us the fifth.
This is us being slow. This is us tasting the air. This is us preparing to feed.
We Alliz Tae Ew know the secret within our heart, but for some the secret is known deeper in their hearts.
And the secret has given a tap-tap-tap to their hearts and their tail holds more water. There are Alliz Tae Ew that must be listened to, for they know the fourth secret.
They know the Kaz'zar'aik'Chuel. They will bring forth the cold night with their gift, we will bring the meat with our sharpened sticks of wood.
We Tae give to the secret and it gives to us. This is known. The secret tells us that we do not need five moons to guide us.
The two full moons will be the honesty that is given to us. The moons that become two from five can only happen if the Tae and Evol slide through the holse that is not there.
And it will.
The five moons are only two and the blood pools are clear. The evershifting land stays as one place. Warmth is in the air.
The fouth secret has given us the truth. The fourth secret must be given to. We must not give only the teeth and the gizzard. There must be more.
The fourth secret is lost to us is the place that once was. Evol children speak that their false fourth secret cannot leave them.
We will birth an eggshell made from sharp edged stones just as it was. The yolk will then fill with the fourth secret and the Evol will know theirs is a lie.
The house of the fourth secret now stands upon the true world. The Tae and the Evol have built the shell.
Now we wait for the yolk to fill. Evol do not know. Our hunger does know. They will stand and we shall show them what we feel.
We will gain from their meat as the secret has shown us.
It is the Temple. It is the home to the secret. The aspects of the secret fill the stones.
We need not chew and smack upon the bones of only the Evol. The secret that stands within the heart has shown us softer meat. We will suck the marrow from ogres and trolls.
We will give the secret to the Evol or we will feed on them. We are Onu. We are Tae. We are the bringers of the Kaz'zar'aik'Chuel Eggshell.
Books
An Agenda to Carry Out This item can be placed on the floor in any house type.
This is a mastery tome. Use the knowledge contained within to gain a basic understanding of the tactics to use against the chosen foe.
The lesser-ones, yes, the bane-touched creations given our name - As if they could ever replace us! HA! They were to carry out the Agenda. They knew enough of the plan to carry it out, say the pack elders. They were to be used. Tools to our ascension, discarded when done. But now we are cut off from them. You don't think they could be messing it all up or worse, they could be fulfilling it, and reaping the rewards for themselves!? To even think of those pathetic no-claws conquering and spreading disease throughout the world when they only deserve to serve us, the true roekillik!
I was not there, nor was my sire, or his, or my greatsire, but oh, I know the lesser ones' place and history! Even if they do not! We came first, carved out of the Clay of Cosgrove, by Brell Serilis, that miserable excuse for a deity! But then he didn't like us. He attacked us, his own creations, when he learned of my ancestor's campaign of dominating and purifying the Underfoot! What else were we to do?! We have always been good at killing! It is said that we had successfully brought about the eradication of several inferior beings within the Underfoot. Even then we knew it was our destiny to conquer all of Norrath. We are superior!
His divine wrath crushed and cut down a great many of us! The true roekillik were all but destroyed. Smote by our own creator! Unwilling or able to annihilate all of us, he imprisoned the few survivors within the Vaults of Serilis. Guess he didn't have the spine for eradication! There my ancestors languished, unable to dig their way out, despite their teeth and claws, the very instruments bestowed upon us by Brell for burrowing through the stone of the Underfoot. Then to find that he went back to his pile of clay and created them, the lesser-ones!
Our jailer and creator tried to recreate us, but this time he employed the help of Bristlebane. Good 'ole 'Bane boy! A touch of mirth was to be added to these new creatures, with the intention of replacing the "darkness" that he claimed dwelled with us. At first, the plan seemed to work and Brell smiled upon our imitations. But his mockery didn't stop there! He named them roekillik too! His creativity must have hit bedrock! Disfigured and crippled imitations, they had inferior teeth and hardly any claws to speak of. But what they lacked in menace they made up for in deception! To our glee, the King of Thieves had given them this talent in secret.
They began to spread out from the lowest reaches of the Underfoot, rebelling against Brell's wishes, and venturing into the higher levels of the plane. Oh, how they grow up! Once there, they began stealing the riches of the Underfoot, hoarding and amassing treasures. And oh, when daddy Brell discovered this was he furious! Although, he went rather easy on them, if you ask me. Rather than decimating the no-claws, he merely imprisoned them within the Vaults, confining them within his fortress, alongside the true roekillik.
Brell's arrogance and foolishness made our foresires livid! He had created us, and we were superior to all that existed! How dare he attempt to "improve" upon us with these new ones, and then say these lesser-ones were worthy of life, while we were not!? The battle that occurred within the Vaults of Serilis was devastating! Their pack out numbered ours, but they were no match for the deranged ferocity and wicked cunning of the true roekillik. We are superior! Before the sentries of Brell were able to separate them, nearly all of the pitiful no-claws were slaughtered, with the survivors quickly enslaved by our foresires. We were their ascendants in more ways than one!
These lesser-ones lived within the bonds of servitude, manipulated from afar by our mental prowess, for countless seasons. Pulling on their strings! During the age called "Blood" by surface-worlders, a band of dark men entered the Vaults of Serilis and met the no-claws. Using their skills of trickery and guile, they were able to convince the dark men to facilitate their escape from their divinely-imposed imprisonment. Don't be impressed, man is stupid! This was to our advantage, for although they had not released us, the lesser-ones returned to the Underfoot, where they continued to perform nefarious deeds on our behalf, still calling themselves roekillik.
That is, most of them did -those that knew better! The majority of the freed lesser-ones were still loyal to their masters - theirb rightful masters! They knew their place and were prepared to carry out their part of the Agenda. The details of the Agenda did not matter to them. They wouldn't have understood them, anyway! But our foresires heard of an uprising amongst the freed no-claws. A select few of incompetent lesser-ones were attempting to leave the pack, and break their bonds of servitude. Maybe a few of them had spines after all, but not for long! They were slain for being pathetic traitors, forcing those who agreed with them to think again, or flee.
Those who skittered away were merely putting off the inevitable. They would be slaughtered without the protection of the pack! They were doomed to meet their horrific end within the harsh world of the Underfoot before they would ever reach the surface world. Squish! Rock in the brain pan! We shouldn't even give thought to the possibility that they survived and continued to besmirch our good name by spreading themselves upon the surface. Those that knew their place continued to carry out their part of the Agenda. They courted Bertoxxulous, the Plaguebringer! Our foresires had long admired the god of disease, and his tenacious lust for decay. A god with a kindred spirit! His help was the cornerstone of the Agenda.
I wouldn't state here the details of the Agenda, in case this tome was to ever find its way into the wrong hands. In fact, I may have told too much as it is! But you're one of our own. I will say that the lesser-ones were eager to please their ages-old masters, even when it meant self-sacrifice. How useful! They were to be carriers, using the caverns of the Underfoot as their means of travel. This ensured that there would be no place on Norrath that they could not reach. The world would be left a cursed cesspit of disease for everyone to wallow in, and the true roekillik would reign!
The Agenda was certain to succeed if it had not been for the damned actions of our wretched creator! Spoil sport. He sealed the Underfoot off from the rest of Norrath when he withdrew from mortal contact. Run away squeamish one! We could no longer communicate with our servants, and they help the gift bestowed upon us by the Plaguebringer! We had no idea what was happening outside the sealed realm. It was of little consequence that his absence gave us the opportunity to escape the Vaults of Serilis, for we could still not leave the Underfoot!
Then came the intoxicating day of magic!
Our foresires had no idea what triggered it or what had happened outside the of Underfoot. They only knew that there was a great hum as loud as any horn, and suddenly the world felt penetrable, and their eyes were blinded by the brightest of light to have ever reached the dark recesses of Norrath! Arcane powers flowed through their veins, overwhelming them with exquisite pleasure. When they woke from the experience my ancestors could see nothing different, but they felt it. An immeasurable arcane experience had occurred, and they survived it!
It has been years since that day.Oh, how time flies when you're killing! And a myriad of ways to escape the confines of the Vault of Living Stone have been found. Called by the abundant (and addictive) kaborite deposits within Odus, we now take refuge within the Hole, and any of the caverns and tunnels of the deep. It was not easy, but we will never be deterred! Let this be a lesson those damned lesser-ones learn! The day will come when we are no longer imprisoned! There is talk now of a magic system of travel being explored by the grey men. Could they finally be of use? Just a teensy bit? If they give us the key to our freedom, maybe their deaths should be quick. Right, young one?
Then we will fulfill the Dark Agenda!
Books
Anatomy of the Fathomlurker This item can be placed on the floor in any house type.
This is a mastery tome. Use the knowledge contained within to gain a basic understanding of the tactics to use against the chosen foe.
Among the most terrifying creatures that prey upon the denizens of Thalumbra is the one they call the fathomlurker. Rarely seen in open, exposed areas; more likely found lurking in dark crevices and dank caves. Many the unsuspecting gnome has vanished into the shadows while traversing a dark cavern, never to be seen again.
Fathomlurkers have a cluster of eyes set at the lower front of the conical upper body. At first we thought this meant we could evade them by slipping behind the creatures. We soon learned our mistake the hard way! Examination of dead specimens reveals the fathomlurker's eyesight is poor at best. Perhaps the eyes are a vestige from a surface-dwelling ancestor, now atrophied through disuse in the depths of subtunaria. Instead, the creature seems to rely on echolocation. Fine bristles around the upper body catch the slightest echo of motion in any direction. It is joked that it's easier to sneak up on the mighty Nagafen than on a fathomlurker.
In moments of dire emergency, the fathomlurker can expel an inky dark smoke, blinding those around it not fortunate enough to be as skilled in echolocation.
The ten flexible tentacles are equipped with sharp, bony extrusions that dig into captured prey. These combined with the impressive sinews of the tentacles make it almost impossible for a solo traveler to escape the grasp of a fathomlurker. Cave expedition guidelines mandate groups of no less than three for this reason.
Most fathomlurkers reach the approximate mass of an overfed ogre. Some explorers have reported seeing specimens grown to immense size, but were unable to determine the cause. Are these some closely related but larger species? Or can all fathomlurkers attain such a size with great age? Or perhaps some gender dimorphism?
Thus far, volunteers to go and trap these immense beasts for scientific research have been regrettably scarce.
Books
Antonica Creature Catalog This item can be placed on the floor in any house type.
As I catalog various flora and fauna, I can refer to this book.
Before the Rending, Antonica was the name of a very large continent that included the cities of Qeynos, Freeport, Halas, Rivervale, Highhold, Oggok and Gukta.
Since the cataclysms that changed the lands, the name "Antonica" refers only to the western half of the continent of Karan.
Its major city is Qeynos, which is located on Antonica's western coast.
Antonica is the western half of the continent of Karan. It is surrounded by the Coldwind Coast on its north, west and southwestern edges. To the southeast, the Phantom Mountains separate Antonica from the Thundering Steppes.
Travel through the Phantom Mountains is difficult. One can take advantage of Blind Man's Pass which is under the protection of the Qeynos Guard, however the lands surrounding the Pass are inhospitable.
The climate of Antonica is temperate, with cool nights and comfortable days.
The winds are generally from the west during the days, bringing sea breezes from across the Coldwind Coast. In the evenings, the wind flows from the east down the slopes of the Phantom Mountains. When the winds are reversed, the air is drier during the day but not uncomfortably so.
Rains are generally mild during Growth and Harvest seasons. Overnight frosts are common during Decay, but melt away with the sunrise.
As the temperatures are so temperate, Antonica has a good season of Growth. The fertile lands contain scattered farms with pastures and fields.
Trees are mainly deciduous oaks and maples in the valleys, while the hills are crowned by coniferous pines. Beneath the shade of the trees one can find flowers such as violets, Tunare's breath and dwarf-bearded iris.
At night, one might be fortunate enough to find the rare night blooming gnoll's bane.
Gnolls are the most obvious creature throughout Antonica. Various clans stake out territories for themselves and attempt to establish themselves as the major player in the region.
Non-sentient creatures scattered through the green hills include timber wolves, badgers, bears, and klicnik beetles. Bats are known to wander near old ruined structures or amongst the trees.
The Coldwind Coast around Antonica abounds with sea life as well, including crabs, pikes and lurkers.
Books
Antonica Creature Catalog This item can be placed on the floor in any house type.
As I catalog various flora and fauna, I can refer to this book.
Before the Rending, Antonica was the name of a very large continent that included the cities of Qeynos, Freeport, Halas, Rivervale, Highhold, Oggok and Gukta.
Since the cataclysms that changed the lands, the name "Antonica" refers only to the western half of the continent of Karan.
Its major city is Qeynos, which is located on Antonica's western coast.
Antonica is the western half of the continent of Karan. It is surrounded by the Coldwind Coast on its north, west and southwestern edges. To the southeast, the Phantom Mountains separate Antonica from the Thundering Steppes.
Travel through the Phantom Mountains is difficult. One can take advantage of Blind Man's Pass which is under the protection of the Qeynos Guard, however the lands surrounding the Pass are inhospitable.
The climate of Antonica is temperate, with cool nights and comfortable days.
The winds are generally from the west during the days, bringing sea breezes from across the Coldwind Coast. In the evenings, the wind flows from the east down the slopes of the Phantom Mountains. When the winds are reversed, the air is drier during the day but not uncomfortably so.
Rains are generally mild during Growth and Harvest seasons. Overnight frosts are common during Decay, but melt away with the sunrise.
As the temperatures are so temperate, Antonica has a good season of Growth. The fertile lands contain scattered farms with pastures and fields.
Trees are mainly deciduous oaks and maples in the valleys, while the hills are crowned by coniferous pines. Beneath the shade of the trees one can find flowers such as violets, Tunare's breath and dwarf-bearded iris.
At night, one might be fortunate enough to find the rare night blooming gnoll's bane.
Gnolls are the most obvious creature throughout Antonica. Various clans stake out territories for themselves and attempt to establish themselves as the major player in the region.
Non-sentient creatures scattered through the green hills include timber wolves, badgers, bears, and klicnik beetles. Bats are known to wander near old ruined structures or amongst the trees.
The Coldwind Coast around Antonica abounds with sea life as well, including crabs, pikes and lurkers.
Books
Assistant Researcher's Notes, Vol. 1, Halls of Erudin This item can be placed on the floor in any house type.
I have been Zal'Urid's apprentice for several years now, and have witnessed his ingenuity and enlightened insight first hand. I guess I should have surmised that one day Zal'Urid would challenge Erudin in some capacity, I just never thought he would engage in open debate with the Erudin council itself. Yet there we were, walking through the city of those we once considered enemies, preparing to meet with those who shunned and stood against us for so long.
Zal'Urid said little as we approached the council hall itself. I could tell that he was lost in thought, no doubt going over his research in his head, anticipating questions and counterarguments that would come up during the debate. Occasionally he would ask for a specific page or manual, but other than that, he said nothing. He didn't even seem to notice the Deepwater Knights escorting us, and only gave a dismissing nod or wave of his hand to the attendants assigned to us when they asked if he required assistance or refreshments.
While my master mused silently to himself, I took the time to observe my surroundings. I had never been to Erudin before, and I was impressed with the beauty and craftsmanship of the halls, pillars, fountains, and artwork places throughout the city. Everything seemed to open and tranquil, but I knew that the people that lived here were a stark contrast to the city itself, choosing to be oppressive and judgmental of magics they feared or didn't understand. They would never be as enlightened or learned as thse of us who called Paineel our home.
Finally we arrived at the waiting chambers, and were intructed to sit and await the summons from the council. Zal'Urid nodded courteously, and took a seat near a large marble table. I sat across from him, and set his notes up where he could reach them. I then turned and looked toward the large doors leading into the council chambers. I couldn't help feeling a sense of dread, knowing that even though the scholars of Erudin and Paineel were now working together, my master and I were entering this chamber as enemies -- opponents to the great plan of the residents of Erudin?
As he worked on what I assume were his final notes, Zal'Urid must have sensed my unease, "What troubles you, apprentice?" he quiered. I hadn't expected him to address me at all. I was taken aback by the break of his silence, and it was all I could do to muster up a response without stammering like a fool. "My apologies, Master," I replied. "Being here, in this place... I never imagined we would be facing the Erudin council this way. I can't help but feel a sense of dread." Zal'Urid continued to work on his notes when he responded. "Why is that?" he asked, "Do you not trust my research and findings?"
"Of course, Master!" I responded quickly, sensing the veiled annoyance in his voice. "But it's just that there will be many of them in there, what if they align against you..." "They were fools before the alliance between our cities," he answered quietly, never raising his voice, "And they are fools now. My research is sound, whereas theirs is not. The surest way to win any debate, apprentice, is to have the correct information before that debate starts."
Zal'Urid had long been skeptical of Erudin's plan to construct a new Nexus. When the plan was proposed by the Erudin High Scholar, El'Arad to work jointly on its construction, I could immediately tell that Zal'Urid sensed that something was amiss. He never spoke about it much, but he immediately sent me int the libraries of Paineel for dusty tomes and books buried far within the shelves -- to this day, I have no idea how he knew those particular works were even there. However, he pored through them, making notes and charts, not sleeping or eating for days. His research was very methodical -- he never seemed hasty or rushed, and he would check and double check everything he recorded. I was the only one allowed to visit him during his research, and even then, he would not allow me to set eyes on his calculations or research notes.
Eventually he emerged, with notes in hand, and called for a session with Coriante Verisue and her council. I'm not sure what transpired in that meeting, but when Zal'Urid emerged, he was certainly not pleased, and retreated immediately into his study chambers. This repeated twice more, both with the same result. Whatever my master was looking for, he wasn't finding it with the leadership of Paineel.
Late one evening, I received a summons from Zal'Urid. He asked me to meet him within his chambers promptly. When I arrived, I could see that he had prepared for a journey of some sort. When I asked where he was heading, he did not answer. Rather, he commanded me to load the pack steeds and make ready to depart. We were leaving immediately. There wasn't much to pack, mostly tomes, charts, and notes -- but there were a great many of each of them.
We traveled for some time, our trip made longer by having to stick to the shores to avoid Toxxulia Forest. When we arrived at our destination near the shore of the Vasty Deep, I was surprised to see that we were greeted by none other than Deepwater Knights. At first I suspected an attack, but they appeared to be welcoming of my master and me. When I was assisting with the unpacking of our provisions and supplies, I noticed that Zal;Urid had walked off with one of the Knights -- the captain who had greeted us. I could not make out their conversation, but it seemed that my master was talking and the Knight was listening and agreeing. This was something I had never imagined I would witness in my years.
As it turned out, it was Zal'Urid's intention to meet with and address the High Council of Erudin. He met with dignitaries and high scholars over the next couple of days, as we waited for the Council to convene and hear my master's testimony. Now that time had come. As I sat nervous and in apprehension, Zal'Urid continued working and studying, exemplifying the rigid dedication to knowledge that helps define our people -- the one trait that unifies all erudites across Norrath.
Finally, the large doors creaked open, and a tall man, dressed in the gold and white of the Council, stepped out. "Master Zal'Urid. The High Council of Erudin will see you now." "Very well," my master replied. He patiently gathered up his notes and his charts, stood, and nodded to me, indicating that I was to follow. Together, we walked into the council chamber of Erudin.
Books
Assistant Researcher's Notes, Vol. 2, The High Council of Erudin This item can be placed on the floor in any house type.
I will never forget the chambers of the High Council of Erudin. Never have I been in a place where I felt such scrutiny, and indeed, such oppression. I knew that it was here that the Council banished Miragul for practicing the art of necromancy, thereby cutting an entire sphere of knowledge and learning from their studies. It was here that they chose to engage in war against the people of Paineel, for pursuing that very knowledge in our quest to understand the magics of the world in which we live.
The biggest surprise was waiting for my master and me when we entered the chamber itself. While I had expected the majority of the Council to be in attendance, I was not expecting to find many of the Paineel high court, including Coriante Verisue herself, sitting amongst the crowd. I looked over to Zal'Urid to gauge his reastion, but as always, he remined impassive. It was almost as if he expected to see them here -- perhaps he had even planned on it.
The hall itself was dimly lit, save a few lights along the back wall, and a large beam of light illuminating a platform in the center of the room. I sat on a bench near the stairs leading to the raised rows of seats where the Council sat. Zal'Urid walked to the center of the platform, entering the pillar of light, facing the Council of Erudin and the court of Paineel. There was no podium for him to lay his notes on, no seat for him to rest comfortably on the platform. He seemed untroubled, confidently facing those before him.
One of the scholars amongst the Councilors stepped down the stairs near me, and I could see that she wore the large headpiece of the arbiters -- she would preside over the debate, ensuring that it would not collapse into a free-for-all argument. I was concerned again, because she was clearly chosen from among the scholars of Erudin, but it was a logical choice, given where we now were. "Master Zal'Urid," she began. "You have requested audience with the High Council of Erudin, to discuss the viability of El'Arad's wise plan to put the teleportation network back in the hands of mortals, and out of the hands of the gods who took it from us." "That is correct, Arbiter," my master responded.
"As you can see, in the interest of cooperation with the city of Paineel, we have brought some of their esteemed court to this noble hall, so that they might have a voice in these proceedings. Therefore, you will be speaking to both cities, and will receive a unified repsonse from all of the erudite people. Do you understand this?" the speaker inquired. "I do, Arbiter," Zal'Urid replied. "Very well, then," she said. "Please explain to the Council what brings you before us."
"I am here to solicit the help of the High Council of Erudin with regards to the aforementioned rebuilding of the Spire Network, and construction of the Ulteran Nexus within Quel'ule," he began. "I believe this to be a highly questionable act, one that warrants scrutiny and further deliberation before we proceed further." "Questionable?" came a voice from the Council. "In what way?" Several mutters of agreement could be heard among the crowd. "Indeed, Councilor," my master said cooly. "I believe that this research is based upon faulty information, and that this poorly conceived plan could very well imperil all of Odus, if not all of Norrath itself."
Th council chamber erupted with incredulous harrumphs, angry retorts, and mocking laughter. Some of the councilors were standing now. shouting back their responses over the uproar started by Zal'Urid's words. "What would you have us go? one shouted. "There is no teleportation, and we are cut off from the rest of Norrath without it!" "How dare you speak of the greatest minds in Norrath with impudence!" called out another.
The Arbiter worked feverishly to calm the cacophony of anger. My master stood unmoving, watching the reaction of the council, and waiting for the noise to subside. When it finally subsided, he opened his mouth as if to speak. However, before he could even begin, another voice cut through the dim chamber. "You see? I warned you that he would waste the time of this esteemed council." I was surprised to hear that it was none other than Coriante Verisue, the head of the High Court of Paineel, speaking out against one of the wisest scholars the city of Paineel had ever known. "He wasted the time of the high court of Paineel three times over, and now he has come to the High Council of Erudin to do the same?"
"What gives you the right, scholar, to question the consensus of the scholars of the erudite people?" another councilor spoke out. "The province of facts, councilor," Zal'Urid replied. "As I said, your conclusions are based on unsound information, and it is my duty to report my findings for consideration." it was obvious that the High Council of Erudin had heard enough. My master attempted to speak over the din, but they were no longer listening. Still, he remained calm, answering each objection as he could.
After several minutes of this, another councilor stood up, and raise his hand quietly. The noise in the chamber stopped almost immediately, and even the Arbiter stepped aside, out of the beam of light where Zal'Urid now stood alone. The figure walked down the isle toward the stairs leading to the platform below. I was unable to make out his face through the light, and even if I could, I am not sure I would have known who this man was. The councilor said nothing as he approached Zal'Urid. The two scholars stood face to face for a few moments, before ayone spoke. In spite of what could have been defined as a tense few moments between adversaries, I sensed neither malice or anger from either.
"Your words are stinging and harsh, scholar," the man began. "If you are here to save all of Odus, as you claim, seeking the help of those that were once enemies, would it not be best to attempt some form of diplomacy?" "I speak factually," Zal'Urid said to the man standing before him. "I do not believe that pointing out the flaws inherent in your plan are an insult to anyone, save perhaps yourself, if you choose them to be."
It was at that moment that I relized who this councilor was -- this was none other than El'Arad himself, High Scholar of Erudin, and primary architect of Ulteran spire network plan.
Books
Assistant Researcher's Notes, Vol. 3, The High Council of Erudin This item can be placed on the floor in any house type.
"Indeed," was El'Arad's response. I could see his face clearly now, and admittedly, it was hard not to look at him in awe. This was the man who had proposed the rebuilding of the Nexus, and it was through his guidance that the two cities were now cooperating, and working toward a common goal. To imagine that Zal'Urid now stood against the man who had brokered peace between our cities made me ill -- but I knew that my master was no fool, and would not be here unless he was certain of his position.
"Let me assure you that I am not offended by your accusations," El'Arad said calmly. "However, I am puzzled. What is it you think you have discovered that compels you to argue so vehemently against your plan?" "It's not what I think I've discovered, El'Arad," my master returned, "It's what I have ascertained through rigorous study and calculations. Your plan is flawed, because it is based off incorrect information." "And what information is that, scholar?" El'Arad asked.
"You are attempting to reconstruct a spire transportation network to replace the now nonfunctional Combine Spires. Yet, you based your design off the Combine Spires themselves," Zal'Urid explained patiently. "My calculations suggest that the new spires will still attempt to connect to the Luclin Nexus, as did the originals. Although I cannot be certain at this point, my research suggests a dangerous feedback of mystical energy resulting..."
El'Arad interrupted my master's speech. "You cannot be certain of the outcome, yet you stand before this high court asking us to cease what could be the greatest achievement of the erudite people. And why? Based on admittedly uncertain information." "The only thing I am uncertain of is the outcome," Zal'Urid returned. "At best the spires simply will not function. I am still working on the calculations for any other outcome aside from that."
"What then, do we have to lose if the spires do not work as we designed them to do? If your calculations cannot conclude any other outcome with any degree of certainty, why are we holding this court?" El'Arad asked with a hint of amusement in his voice. My master has always had impeccable control over his emotions. It is a rare case when I have seen him allow circumstances to get him visibly upset. In almost every situation, Zal'Urid is deconstructing and analyzing the situations around him, and formulating plans for any given situations. I could see though, that El'Arad was beginning to make my master's shell of logical detachment begin to crack. At the time, I could not be certain as to why, since Zal'Urid had been in many such open debates, but I knew that something was different this time.
"I believe, esteemed scholar, that the spires not functioning is the least likely outcome," Zal'Urid said sharply. "In fact, I believe the most likely outcome is more likely as I said before -- something far more catastrophic. That's why I mentioned it at the beginning of this court." "You are questioning, then, all of the scholars who have worked on this project, all of the great erudite minds, both from Erudin and from Paineel, and all of the hours upon hours of research that has been poured into what we are attempting to accomplish?" El'Arad turned to face the councilors seated behind him now. "You are saying, to this court, to these scholars, to these people, that all of their research is flawed, while yours is accurate? And we're supposed to take this based on what -- your uncertainty, which you cannot support with facts?"
"Indeed," Zal'Urid responded, to a chorus of jeers and disapproving murmurs. "I believe that more time and research must be dedicated before we begin this project in earnest. We can still get to Antonica by sea, so there is ample time to conduct further study." "So you admit your contempt for your peers, then?" El'Arad said, a slight chuckle in his voice. Turning toward Zal'Urid, his gaze narrowed. "Tell me something. How many generations of your family have lived within Paineel?" "I am the first, councilor," Zal'Urid answered. "Interesting," El'Arad mused, as he began to circle my master. "Tell me then, who were your parents, if not scholars from Paineel?"
Zal'Urid hesitated, briefly before he could answer. However, Coriante Verisue wasted no time in answering for him. "They were Deepwater Kngihts, were they not, scholar?" she called out, the disdain evident in her voice. "Indeed," Zal'Urid said loudly, "My parents were both members of that Order." "And why, then, did you leave Erudin as a traitor to live within Paineel?" El'Arad said, punctuating the offensive word 'traitor' for effect. "Because the scholars of Erudin have proven to be shortsighted and narrow in their thinking," my master answered bluntly. The angry muttering from the crowd grew ever larger.
"And is it also true that the Deepwater Knights have opposed this project from the beginning?" El'Arad began, never taking his eyes off my master. "Is it not true that they have made their own shortsighted and narrow way of thinking very clear to this court, and to all of Erudin very well known?" Calls of agreement began echoing off the walls of the high court now. I began to shift uncomfortably, unable to hold back my unease. "Tell me, scholar," El'Arad said fiercely, "Did you not go to the high court of Paineel simply as a mouthpiece for your parents' order? Are you not just repeating the rhetoric of the Deepwater Knights, looking to spread their fear and lies to any and all who will listen?"
"How dare you!" Zal'Urid retorted, seething now with anger. "My research is my own!" My master thrust his notes into the air, shaking them toward the seated council. "My calculations and findings are sound! I challenge any of you to study my notes, and find a flaw within them, as I have found flaws within yours!" The council chamber erupted into jeers. "Throw him out!" came the calls from the benches above. "I've heard enough!" My master attempted to argue back, but the crowd was no longer paying him any heed. El'Arad walked backwards out of the light, almost melting into the darkness beyond. It was clear that he had done what he had set out to do. It was over.
The large, heavy doors to the council chamber closed behind us as we left the chamber. As we walked slowly down the hall, I saw that Zal'Urid had calmed considerably, and was back to formulating a new plan. Before I could speak, he spoke to me. "There is something else amiss here, apprentice," he began. "I can't be certain what it is, but El'Arad has another motive -- I could sense it, but I cannot put my finger on it." I nodded my agreement, because I was not sure where my master was going with his thoughts.
"We must find out more. I want you to go to the library of Erudin. Begin seeking out whatever information you can there. Listen in on the scholars' conversations, observe what tomes they are researching, find out who is associating with whom. Whatever is happening here, it is intertwined with the Nexus experiment, and thus could decide the fate of all of Odus -- we must learn all we can, as quickly as we can," he explained. I was surprised, to say the very least. "M-m-master," I stammered, "Please forgive me. Planning for the next round of debates is one thing, but looking for a web of conspiracy is something completely different! How can you..."
"Do not question me, apprentice," he said firmly. "I ask only that you follow my instructions faithfully, and speak none of this to no other. It is imperative that this remains between you and me." "As you wish, master," I replied. Zal'Urid looked up to me. "There will not be another round of debates -- I am sure that El'Arad will see to that. Meet me in three days back on the shore of the Vasty Deep with your notes. Be as discreet as you can." "I will," I answered. "Where will you be?"
Zal'Urid looked away. "I am going to meet with the Deepwater Kngihts, and begin to compare notes. Where that meeting will take me, I cannot say." I nodded. " Very well. I will meet you in three days," I said, and turned to walk away. "Indeed," Zul'Urid answered. "And apprentice," he said calmly, "Watch your back." I froze for a moment, hearing the deliberate cold tone of his voice. When I turned around, Zal'Urid was gone. I will not fail you, my master. I will not fail.
Books
Atrebe's Sniveling Children This item can be placed on the floor in any house type.
This is a mastery tome. Use the knowledge contained within to gain a basic understanding of the tactics to use against the chosen foe.
"Atrebe's Sniveling Children" by Borok, scout of Timorous Deep
Day 1 This is the official report of I, Borok, of Timorous Deep! Charged to observe the Di'Zok Sarnak of Chardok for the further defense of the new Sarnak race. In Gorowyn's name go I!
Day 2 I do my best to stay in the shadows as I make my way to Chardok. I will not underestimate their ability to detect me. Though our race is superior to theirs, they will have the advantages of both numbers and home territory. I am not afraid to face one in combat. Let any Di'Zok try to hit me with his weak little arms! But I am not so foolish as to think a full squad of them wouldn't get the best of me. I think of Gorowyn and of our liberation from their repressive regime, and I know my cause is good.
Day 3 I have killed a Di'Zok. He came too close to my position, and I finished him quietly. As he attempted to arc his sword down at me, I plunged my own up between the gaps in his armor and wiped his blood on his own skin. I took one of his horns as a trophy and then left the body where predators will tear it to shreds and devour its flesh. After that, I returned to scouring the landscape surrounding the city, recording the movements of its sentries, who should one by one be disciplined for letting me slip through so easily.
Day 4 I succeeded in entering Chardok's mountain halls. Under cover of night, I managed to slip unnoticed through its gates. I must admit I stopped to stare before going through them. They are high, mighty, and carved so ornately and masterfully that you could spend hours going over small sections of it and picking out the detail. I didn't let my wonder keep me long. Seeing an opportunity in the form of a lazy guard catching a bit of sleep, I penetrated its walls.
The nighttime halls were hushed and quiet. Along the walls hung colorful war banners addressed to the Di'Zok's might; though they were obviously put up to let the Di'Zok feel mighty and glorified, I thought them cheap, gaudy things, and would have been ashamed to hang one. Let the Di'Zok find their worth in such trinkets and shows. We, the true Sarnak, need no such false displays of bravado. Soon, I reached a blustery room where air elementals seemed to be birthed. From this room, also, tunnels led into the rest of the city.
I will not waste time detailing everything that I found. I have drawn up an extensive map to be included with this report. Of particular note was their air dome, a massive, open cavern from which they mount their sokokor and set to flight. There is also a massive cavern, larger than any contained space I have seen, that connects to the palace and the temple and must be crossed on suspension bridges. In order to get across, I crept along the bottom of one of these bridges, as there was no other manner in which to cross that did not have me completely out in the open.
Day 5 Having spent a full day lurking around the palace, I have managed to create an even more detailed map, designating the express purpose of each of the rooms and who frequents them. I am not sure whether any of our forces could penetrate so far en masse, but this information could be invaluable for decisive strikes. The Di'Zok are not above the prizing of certain individuals more than others, and I observed many of their most exalted at their most vulnerable. Here is where any first strike should take place.
It seems these Di'Zok worship their enslaver as a god. True, he is their creator, but when a creator becomes an enslaver, that creator no longer deserves worship. We understand this and have cast off those who would wish to shackle us. They, however, cling to his visage as divine. I do not trust such blind faith, and I believe it could prove to either be a great weakness or a great strength. Anything that blinds you makes you weak, but anything that gives you purpose makes you strong. In Atrebe, the Di'Zok have both.
Day 6 My path out was not so simple as my path in. I spent hours clinging to the bottom of one of the bridges when a perceptive Di'Zok seemed to have some sense I was there. An entire squad lurked just above me for all that time, and when they finally gave me an opportunity to slip away, my muscles screamed in pain. I had to hide on the other side and allow them to recuperate before continuing. On my way out, I again slipped up and caught the attention of a guard. My final retreat was spent at a full run through the trees surrounding Chardok. Fortunately, however, I managed to outrun them and lost them after a time.
Day 7 I spent much less time in the shadows and more time moving quickly as I could for the last leg home. I never again encountered any Di'Zok, but I fear they know that we now have some understanding of their fortifications. No doubt, their arrogance will lead them to pass this occurrence off, but I do fear that even more caution would be needed if ever entering again.
I doubt we will experience any repercussions for it, and if any did not suspect they had already sent similar infiltrators, I am sure all will agree that they will do so in order to be on our same footing. It is this scout's recommendation that we be on the look out for such intruders and deal with them without mercy. I know what power my expedition has given us over the Di'Zok, and I would not want them to have a similar hand.
Books
Basic Mining Guide, Part One This item can be placed on the floor in any house type.
This completed book can be placed in your house and read.
"The Basic Mining Guide -- Part One, Blackburrow." Proudly sponsored by the Sabertooth Gnoll Miner's Guild. Learn the history of mining in Blackburrow from the Clan With a Plan!
It is dark. In the mines we work by the light of our lamps. We must dig for ore. Ore can be sold. Ore can be made into things. Therefore, we mine. Gnolls, the Sabertooth gnolls, have a keen sense of smell. We smell the ore beneath the earth, behind the rocks and underground. That led us to Blackburrow many, many years ago.
Unlike the trotters, we Sabertooth gnolls are clever. We found something precious and we stay with it. Before mining, we preyed on what caught our fancy. Then we were enlightened and some of us turned to mining to support our Clan. For it was told to us by the Great Sage, "The furless light their darkness and we can be their light!"
The Great Sage was not a miner. He knew the language of the furless and taught it to us. He taught us many things he learned in his travels. Not a trotter, no! He went among them to learn their ways and teach us so that we would be strong. Our mines we had, but mostly kept them because even if we did not use them, we did not want anyone else to use them.
We learned what rocks would sell to the furless. Sometimes they would try to remove the Clan by force, but we would chase them from the lowest caverns to the entrance. They were trained to run swiftly away through the many tunnels. We chased them for sport. We chased them to keep them away from our mines. They never learned.
The furless fought each other, which was good for the Clan. If they fought each other, they would not bother us. We worked in the dark in our mines, our paws flowing with ore. While the furless fought, we kept to ourselves. The Clan is not interested in the wars of those who do not believe in the Great Sage.
Now, a word about mining itself, pups. To mine successfully, get a pick. A pick has a sharp, pointed end like a fang. You swing this at the stones hiding the ore. Swing, swing again. The stones crumble and are pulled away. The ore shows. Then the miners bring carts that are rolled from the depths full of ore. That is the basic mining principle. Now back to our history.
We mined into the depths, we used the mining ways of old. Remove stone, find ore. Remove ore. For generations, we mined the Blackburrow. In some of the hollows, we kept our mates and offspring. In some of the hollows, we stored our food. Through the years the furless fought, we kept our ways.
But the furless were not content with fighting each other. No! They brought their wars to the Clan. Not interested in our ore, but our tunnels. The tunnels! Worthless to any but the gnoll who can see fine in the dark. They came in anyway, forcing us from our hollows. They were huge and green and fur would not improve their looks.
The Clan is clever. We let them think we gave way before them. But we had other, secret ways beneath the Blackburrow. Some of the furless found them. They used our secret, sacred tunnels to gather their strength. They ate our stores of food. They drove away the weak. Curse them, in our secret places!
And so ends the first part of our glorious mining history, young pups. You will be tested later before you may move to Part Two. Tails high!
Books
Basic Mining Guide, Part Two This item can be placed on the floor in any house type.
This completed book can be placed in your house and read.
"The Sabertooth Miner's Guide, Part Two." Written by the Sabertooth Clan of Blackburrow. Proudly sponsored by the Sabertooth Gnoll Miner's Guild. Learn the history of mining in Blackburrow from the Clan With a Plan!
The Great Sage had said, "Dark times mean there's not enough light." He was right. They came up from beneath us, surprising us within our own mines. We fled to deeper tunnels only to find them overrun by the furless as well. They attacked our young pups. They ate our stores of food. We howled with rage and our voices echoed, but still the furless came.
They said at first they were just passing through. Most of them did, going on to battle the furless of the walled cities. But many more came and stayed. There were many of them. They offered to remove us from our mines and we refused. First, they started attacking our miners. Later, we decided to let them stay if we had our pickings from the battlefields. They agreed.
Around this time, we picked up some of their words. Not many, only a few. Handy for knowing their secrets. They had already taken the furless north. They were going to take the furless south, too. Our tunnels and mines would be famous! We wished it were famous because of us. Then we remembered the words of the Great Sage, "Famous is as famous does." We have no idea what that means. It comforted us.
For many years the furless trooped through the Blackburrow. They ate all our stores. They stole what ore we had produced. Then, suddenly as they appeared, they retreated. Some of our best scouts reported that something bad had happened on the battlefield. The bodies of furless were piled high. Their faces were twisted in pain. Maybe it was something they ate.
After that time, the Clan rebuilt some of the deepest tunnels. We closed off some of our secret entrances. They weren't as secret as we'd thought. Some of the tunnels were so wide across it took years to close them off. We could have saved the effort if we'd known what would be coming within a generation or so.
The shaking woke everyone up. Big stones fell in the mines. Some miners were killed. Some lost their tails. We left the lowest tunnels. Many tunnels filled with water. When the water would drain away, the walls fell in. Many of the excavators grumbled about the wasted work below. Sometimes, whole tunnels collapsed on themselves. It was an uneasy time.
The furless called this time "the Rending," and were afraid. The Clan wasn't afraid. We were disappointed. All our work to close off the lowest tunnels was already done. The Clan is clever. If we'd known, we'd have saved our strength for other things. Since we no longer needed to block old entries, we cleaned up the upper levels. The furless came to us, begging for shelter. We put them in the storerooms till we needed them.
Things were quiet for generations. Then the moon, the new one, broke up in the sky. The furless fell to the ground, begging for help from their gods. The Clan was not afraid. We have the words of the Great Sage to guide us. He had said, "Dig deep," so we did. Some of the Clan had forgot that the lowest tunnels were gone. We never saw them again.
Lucky for us, we have an underground home. The surface was hit by big rocks. A lot of things died. We were safe in the Blackburrow. Some of the old tunnels are filled with spiders. Big spiders. We mine the other levels. Some went down to clear out the spiders. They got stuck in the webs. These are big spiders.
We've been in the Blackburrow for many generations, back to our Great Sage Fippy. He'd be proud of us, still here. We can smell ore through the stones. We knock down the stones. We get out the ore and sell it to the furless. The Clan is clever.
Books
Bestest Orc Emperors This item can be placed on the floor in any house type.
A competent bookbinder is a valuable resource who can restore any book that's had pages removed.
This is some type of chronicle highlighting several orcish kings and their rise to power. Unfortunately it is told from the perspective of an orc.
I am the person who tells stories for the Emperor because I tell the best stories ever.
I was told to write a story down on this so in case I get killed by the Emperor he won't forget all my old stories.
Emperor Fyst told me to write all the stories about the bestest Emperors ever so I will write them down now.
The first of the greatest orc emperors was Emperor Crush.
He was the smartest orc and the most powerfullest orc that ever lived. He lived in this far off place where there were all these trees and stupid elves and stuff.
Emperor Crush built this huge castle with his own hands and let other orcs live inside it with him.
He would go ahead and make everyone of his orcs do all kinds of exercises everyday until they died.
Not all of them died, but a lot of them did! That is how good he was!
He made a really good army out of his orcs and then called them names like Centurion and things like that which meant "Really Good Fighter".
Emperor Crush would be the greatest Emperor any of the orcs would have for a long time.
He would smash all of the elves and he even chopped down all of those stupid trees of theirs.
One day he would fall on a dagger that a dark elf was holding and would die, though.
That would make all of the orcs really mad, so they killed even more stupid elves.
There was no bigger and better Emperor than Crush until Emperor Gash took over a lot of the orcs.
I don't know if he was in the same place that Emperor Crush was, but he had to be because the orcs have always been together.
Emperor Gash would make lots of different armies work together and do some really sneaky things to all the humans.
Emperor Gash didn't just make the orcs do things, he also made all the big dumb ogres do things too.
He said stuff like "Do this or I kill you" and they did, because the ogres are not as good as orcs are.
He also made some big Averturd thing some stuff too, because he was the greatest orc Emperor there ever was.
Emperor Gash was the best Emperor because he had sneakiness and did it on all the stupid other humans.
They gave him lots of money to leave them alone and then he went into the desert. No other orc could come up with something like that.
He made us wait there and said we orcs would go back to the humans when they had more money and take it one day.
Emperor Fyst is our Emperor today and he is the best one to ever lead any orcs.
He was the bestest gladiator in all of the rings. I even made a lot of money off of him when he was fighting.
When he became Emperor I gave him all of my money back and he made me the history person to tell about him.
We used to have another Emperor who was really stupid and did nothing really good.
The old dumb Emperor used to make gladiators fight in front of him whenever he ate dinner. He make Emperor Fyst fight one day and the Emperor killed all of the other orcs.
He then call the stupid emperor mean names and then killed all of the other guards who were told to kill him.
Emperor Fyst then jumped out of the fighting pit and started to fight the dumb emperor.
We all laughed because the dumb emperor didn't even know how to fight. All the dumb emperor knew what do was to take orders.
Emperor Fyst doesn't do that stuff. He is the best fighter ever!
Books
Bird Watching - The Beast of the Enchanted Lands, Part I This item can be placed on the floor in any house type.
A competent bookbinder is a valuable resource who can restore any book that's had pages removed.
"Bird Watching - The Beast of the Enchanted Lands, Part I"
Second Edition
This book is the story of the author's fateful encounter with the Great White Hummingbird.
Welcome, reader, to another exciting chapter in my Bird Watching series.
Many of you have asked me, "Artemisio III, what caused you to take up bird watching?"
Well, in this special edition, Ill tell you how it all began.
Many years ago, when I was a wee lad, I would traipse around the countryside, exploring all the great mysteries of the world.
I was so overjoyed at all the interesting things I found, I never really paid attention to where I was going.
My life drastically changed when I ran afoul of what would later become my arch-nemesis.
As I collected posies to give to dear Mum, I saw an odd sight floating above a patch of flowers.
Curious, I stepped forward to investigate.
There before me was a hummingbird. But reader, make no mistake, it was no ordinary hummingbird.
No, this hummingbird would send shivers down your spine. Hovering before me was one of the deadliest creatures known to Norrath - The Great White Hummingbird.
Now, I know you're saying, "But Artemisio III, isn't the Great White Hummingbird just a myth?" and I say to you, reader, "Listen to the stories, for they are true!"
A simple sighting of such a magnificent beast would not have normally been enough to change my life were it not for what happened next.
Hearing my approach with its supersonic powers of hearing, the Great White slowly looked up at me. I'll never forget the look in its eyes as it spotted me! It was like looking into pools of darkness, and from its eyes it oozed an ichor of filth that penetrated deep into your soul.
As the Great White smelled my fear, it began to laugh in that low, mocking cackle all of the stories claim it possesses.
It began to rise over the flower patch, knowing that I had nowhere to run.
This is when my life began to flash before me.
The Great White began to hover around in a pattern that began to lull my senses. As I watched it, I was hypnotized by its beauty, all but forgetting the mortal peril I was in. That's when it opened its gaping maw, showing me its jagged teeth. The Great White was about to go for the kill. As I turned to run, I tripped over a rock, knocking myself to the ground. That was when I knew it was all over.
But you see, that was what saved me! The special helmet my mother always made me wear fell off my head as I tripped.
It flew straight into the sky, and as it plummeted to the ground, it fell right on top of the Great White Hummingbird.
Underneath my helmet was trapped all 2 inches of seething evil! Fortunately, I had my wits about me, and I left the helmet where it was.
I ran home to tell my Mum of the events, but she was more concerned about what happened to my helmet.
Instead of making up some story about giving it to a nomad in exchange for some magical beans, I chose to tell her the truth, no matter how much it frightened her.
This is only the beginning, however. In the next volume, I shall detail how someone unleashed the Great White back into the world, and how I began my search to save Norrath from utter destruction.
Books
Bird Watching - The Beast of the Enchanted Lands, Part II This item can be placed on the floor in any house type.
A competent bookbinder is a valuable resource who can restore any book that's had pages removed.
"Bird Watching - The Beast of the Enchanted Lands, Part II"
Second Edition
This book is a guide to bird watching in the Enchanted Lands and the great danger that flies across the land.
Welcome, reader, to the exciting conclusion of the story I began in Part I of the Beast of the Enchanted Lands.
As you may remember, I told you the harrowing tale of my first encounter with the Great White Hummingbird.
The following tale covers how I risked my life to track down that evil fiend and stop it from wreaking destruction upon innocent travelers.
Ever since that day I narrowly escaped death at the maw of the Great White Hummingbird, the memory of that encounter haunted my sleep for years.
The reader will be surprised to learn that I began bird watching not for the sheer pleasure of it, but rather to follow the old adage -- know your enemy.
When my dearest Father found my special helmet in the hands of a wandering nomad, I knew that the Great White had been unleashed upon the land again. I vowed that I would find it and put an end to its existence once and for all. You can read all about my various adventures in my other books, which I know you are sure to buy.
For many years I studied my elusive prey. And elusive it was! No one claimed to know anything about it, and after much questioning I came to the conclusion that Great White Hummingbird had frightened everyone into silence. My clue to its whereabouts came from the ramblings of a drunken dwarf. He would be the one to give a name to my archenemy - Zibbly Blip.
Now that I knew the True Name of my enemy, I sought out the greatest mages of the land.
In time, I found him hiding down by the docks in Freeport. Through much coercing in the way of platinum coins, he used the True Name to reveal where I would find my prey -- The Enchanted Lands.
I set sail at once for these so-called Enchanted Lands, intent on engaging in mortal combat with the foul beast.
Captain Grok'Zar, a burly man that looked a little bit like an orc, had assured me that I would arrive safely upon the shores in no time at all.
Were it not for the sneaky attack by pirates in the middle of the night, I surely would have made it there safe and sound.
Having been blindfolded by pirates and tossed overboard, I would have thought my journey at an end.
I managed to secure a piece of flotsam to hang onto, and over the course of several months, I managed to collect enough to build a small raft.
Food and water were no problem, for the sea is swimming with fish and filled with, well, water (a bit on the salty side, yes, but beggars can't be choosers).
I am not sure how much time passed, for when adrift on the ocean, there are other things to concern oneself with.
After several weeks, for instance, I started seeing the most beautiful birds you could possibly imagine flying past the sun.
The amount that I saw could fill whole volumes, but I am here to tell of the Great White Hummingbird. Fear not, reader, for in the end I finally found the lands I sought.
When I arrived on shore, it took a few moments for my sealegs to become accustomed to solid land. No sooner than I adjusted, I spied my prey floating right in front of me. In the time since I had last seen the Great White Hummingbird, it had learned the magical arts of illusion. For you see, rather than appear as the threatening monster it truthfully was, it had taken the form of a smiling, waving halfling.
Not falling for its insidious tricks, I grabbed my harpoon I fashioned from the barnacles floating under my raft and I launched it through the air with all my might. Rest assured, gentle reader, it hit its mark square in the chest. Falling to the ground, it did not have time to cast its spell to turn back into its true hummingbird form. I buried the false halfling that day, saying a small prayer for a fallen enemy, and wound up doing my part to save Norrath from the horrid predations of the Great White Hummingbird.
Books
Book of Power This item can be placed on the floor in any house type.
A small inscription written in the common tongue reads, "May he who wishes to know of the immense power of the Awakened seek out the mystical key to the tome and return only whence he has found it."
The Book of Power: Awakened Blood
Each of the three pillars of the Awakened bring their own unique power to the table. Should the dragons wish to pass on their power to a younger age, each shall have much to teach.
Without power, the Awakened would not have had the power to claim Sky as their realm. Only the truly mighty could lay claim to Veeshan's realm in such a fashion, or . I am led to believe.
Lord Vyemm is the perfect specimen of physical prowess. In the brood war against the giantkin of Kael Draldwl, what little documentation exists suggests that only the mightiest warriors the giants could put forth finally wounded him.
Though he was injured in the battle, Vyemm returned to full health not long after the fighting ceased. All totaled, Vyemm's damage to the giant city would not be repaired for many a cold year to follow.
Harla Dar's nobility has shown her true power to be in that of the art of persuasion. Tis said that political society exists for the sake of noble actions, and not of mere companionship, and nothing could be more true of dragons.
For when one has eternity, as dragons have, the one true power not everyone can possess is nobility. The ability to convince others of a cause and promote strength of spirit from within is Harla Dar's proficiency.
Long before his terrible fate fell upon him, the Mysterious One's power with the magic of Norrath was unparalleled. Through a strong connection with the bond which connects Norrath to the realm of Druzzil and Ayonae, he was able to tap into powers well beyond those accessed by other of his kin.
Only a true master of his craft could have accomplished the feat he did - escape the world upon his own death. Tomes I have found indicate that it was only through the power of a mysterious race of void-travelers that he was captured. Perhaps I will find more as I continue my research.
I once again humbly seek forgiveness, for my own penning of each of these tales is limited by my mortal talents, which is to say, I am but an insignificant speck to the power which the Awakened have displayed to me.
- Vinc, the Enlightened
Books
Book of Sacrifice This item can be placed on the floor in any house type.
A small inscription written in the common tongue reads, "May he who wishes to learn of the sacrifices made by the Awakened place the scale of an unhatched dragon onto the tome."
The Awakened Truths
The children of the sky are not chosen for their power alone. Each of the Awakened must have dealt with great sacrifice during their time below on the world of Norrath.
Though the deeds of many younger members are, of course, grand, the true sacrifices have been made by those who have gone before; the true pillars of the Awakened: Lord Vyemm, Harla Dar, The Mysterious One.
Lord Vyemm shall be known as the first of the great ones. Though it may be said that temper gets one into trouble, but pride keeps one there, the truth lies a bit further down the path for dragons.
Vyemm's pride has brought him strength, a power to do that which others of his kind have not. In the end, he was betrayed by fearful dragons, those who knew not what they could accomplish. His great pride was shattered by blows both physical and spiritual in the great battle.
Harla Dar shall forever be known for the passionate love she held for her brood. Her mate left his position among the ranks of the Claws of Veeshan, abandoning her to the cold wastelands of Velious. Though she watched with pride as her first child, Phara, led the new and upstart faction of dragons, she continued to care for her newest hatchling, Fraka.
For her undying loyalty, Harla was rewarded only with betrayal at the hands of Zlandicar. He stole and devoured Harla's child in a fit of gluttony. Her great heart slowed and she slumbered until He came calling, for her sacrifice was almost too great for the matron to bear.
The Mysterious One. An interesting subject, to be sure. He is not known to the rest of the Awakened, this is certain. I have done much research into the matter. Information on him has been scarce at best.
What few scraps of information I have recovered on him indicates that his sacrifice was greater than all the others. Both his body and mind were shattered by some catastrophic occurrence, and he was returned only through the grace of His power.
I humbly report all these findings as a faithful student of history. I shall continue to chronicle the deeds of these three great pillars of the Awakened.
-Vinc, the Enlightened
Books
Book of Trials This item can be placed on the floor in any house type.
A small inscription written in the common tongue reads, "Only he who delivers the blood of a true hero to the indention in the cover of this book may learn the secrets written within."
Trials of the Awakened: The True Potential Revealed
It is said that the Awakened are blessed with unnatural power, grace and potential. Perhaps that is why a series of trials are have been set up to weed out the weak and unwilling.
Four trials are set down by the Keeper in the Halls of Fate. Those who are ready to attempt the trials will be sought out by the Keeper on the Rim of Eternity. I have thus far been able to attempt only the least of the trials successfully. I wish I had more to report than what I have.
The Keeper is a ghostly apparition which has been placed by Him in order to guide those who would seek to try their will and fortitude against those trials set down. He will guide those who are willing to their fate as heroes or their doom as the dead.
The First Trial is that of Alacrity. It seems to test your speed in traversing an area filled with guardians. I was able to pass with only the barest of margins.
The Second Trial is that of Endurance. Many waves of guardians must be defeated before the true guardian will show itself. Sadly I lost two members of my party in the process.
I will not divulge much about the Third Trial. Suffice it to say, it was an out-of-body experience for me, and one which I almost long to return to...
I have no information about the fourth trial, the Trial of Leadership. I have yet to attempt the feat. It seems that I will need to hire many mercenaries for this task.
I regret that I do not have more information to part with at this time. I can only hope that I will be found worthy after completing the Trial of Leadership. I will see you on the other side. May you hold yourself high, and do well in these trials.
- Vinc, the Enlightened
Books
Bootstrutter's Trail Guide to the Desert of Ro This item can be placed on the floor in any house type.
This completed book can be placed in your house and read.
"Bootstrutter's Guide to the Desert of Ro," by Hasten Bootstrutter. Edited by Jergo Wheybringer. This book describes the changes to the old Desert of Ro to give travellers fair warning of what to expect in these hostile lands.
Introduction: The Desert of Ro was previously mapped as three distinct sections: the Northern Desert of Ro, the Oasis of Marr and the Southern Desert of Ro. The impact of the Shattering and the Rending on these areas has rendered them virtually unrecognizable, though there are several key areas that remain. This trail guide addresses some of these areas, though your best travel guide is always common sense.
Many consider deserts to be vast, empty wastelands of dust and sand. Taking a little extra time to be mindful of one's surroundings, one will begin to see the full range of color and beauty that only a desert can offer. The gentle coloration of the natural flora and fauna is soothing, with pale grey-green sages flowing into the soft golden sands. Bursts of color, such as the Oasis of Marr, can seem almost blinding after the simple desert palatte.
The Oasis of Marr: Previously situated between the Northern and Southern Deserts of Ro, the Oasis is a burst of vibrant color now located near the docks at which the Guppy II made landfall. And though the Oasis is a respite from the heat of the desert, it is by no means a safe haven. The shifting lands have brought old dangers closer by removing the natural barrier of the desert sands.
Orc Highway: Several portions of this major north-south route still exist. It remains a dangerous area for non-orcs to traverse and is best avoided by those travelling alone. Parts of the Highway lead between overhanging cliffs that are sure to provide cover and concealment to the orcs that still call this region home.
The Brigand's Boneyard: The former Deserts of Ro are not empty. Aside from the various crocodiles, caimans and sand giants, there are also a variety of small camp sites. Some of these are occupied at all seasons, while others seem to be intended for travellers. One would be wise to refrain from assuming that an empty camp is an abandoned one. The presence of various camps can be beneficial, as some of their residents are traders, willing to exchange goods for coin.
Sunken Spire: Though desert winds can reshape the lands with impressive speed, not all traces of ancient times are easily destroyed. After a particularly heavy windstorm, several spires appeared at various locations throughout the Desert of Ro. As soon as they became visible, however, a second storm quickly reburied many of them, though there are one or two that remained above the shifting sands and are still visible to this day.
The Chimney: At a distance, one can only see the dunes of a desert, stretching forever toward the horizon. Close up, as we have learned, there are places of deadly beauty as well as relative calm. While admiring the vista is useful for identifying one's surroundings, one must also be wary of what may lie directly beneath one's feet. Insect life abounds in the arid climate, with many of the world's deadliest spiders and scorpions found only in the Desert of Ro.
The Eye of Anuk: The shifted lands have created underground caverns so deep that the light of day barely touches them. Within one of these deep caves, one will find a door to the past -- a past so dark that I cannot imagine what lies behind it. Something waits beyond in a palpably brooding silence.
The Croc Caves: Several chimney spires in the sea attract one's attention with their distinctive columnar shapes. At the base of one set of spires, several crocodiles lay still in the water, their eyes following every movement. Several boulders near the entry appeared to be clawed and scratched, as though something large had moved them at some point while passing through. Could Lockjaw still be alive after all these years? While no direct evidence of his presence was seen, it is said that crocodiles are extremely long-lived.
The Twin Tears: The Oasis of Marr is not the only source of fresh water in the Sinking Sands, as this area is now called. Two large pools separated by a ridge of sand are rings of greenery on the desert plateau. Avoid the dry bone skeletons which inhabit the area and climb this ridge. The views are marvelous, looking toward the surrounding sea and the Pillars of Flame. If you chance upon the carpet merchant before coming to this spot, you will find your purchase quite useful.
Maj'Dul: The city is spectacular, rising high above the desert floor. There are various factions in the city that make it difficult to traverse with any safety. For my part, I have apparently offended the Court of Coin and needed to retreat to my ship. The Maj'Dulians are unyielding in their code of law, no matter how obscure such laws are to outsiders, or "barrashar," such as myself. Still, this is a beautiful place in its own way and I look forward to returning to the serpentine Port of Tears someday.
Books
Brien - Clan Icereaver This item can be placed on the floor in any house type.
A competent bookbinder is a valuable resource who can restore any book that's had pages removed.
This is a journal kept by a wild barbarian of the northlands who was instrumental at taking back Halas. Unfortunately, it doesn't end on a pleasant note.
Excerpt: For fifteen years, I have been a babe. Today, on my Woading Day, I have been told why we struggle within the cold.
We once had a home, but it was taken from us. Our people come from the orc city of Halas. I am so filled with rage I am crying because there is nothing to kill in front of me. I vow upon my ancestor's spirits that I will not die until I see Halas as our home again.
Excerpt: My axe has been blessed with the blood of an orc chief today.
I want to keep his head as a reminder of my victory, but the elders know what is wise. I took his blood and washed my weapon with it. This was but one chief.
There are many more. And all of them will pay ten times over for what they have done to my people.
Excerpt: Our clan has become much larger, and this is good. If Halas is to be ours, we cannot keep the clans separated.
Though we have no chieftains, we all know our part and what we have to do. When we take Halas back from those murderous monsters, then the chieftains will be chosen.
I hope we choose strong leaders that will lead us to our former glory.
Excerpt: It has been twenty years since I vowed to take back Halas, and today my oath has been fulfilled. The orcs have been driven out of our home and scattered to the four corners of the wastelands. This is no time to rest, though. Halas is within hands of its true people. but the orcs still lurk out there in the shadows.
Excerpt: I have been chosen by my people to be one of the six chieftains.
This honor is only matched by the day I slaughtered my first orc chief. The people have chosen well, for we six chieftains will guide the True Men back to the life we once had.
And I vow that I will never see Halas destroyed again. Never.
Excerpt: My first act as chieftain was to declare the defenses of our city are to be rebuilt. The great crevice that opens the way to the frozen lands will be filled with oil.
Were the orcs to dare breach our defenses by rafting across the gully, they will be in store for a nasty treat. Those that manage to struggle past the fiery inferno will then have to survive the axes being lobbed at them from the two great towers.
Finally, they will face us. They should pray to the Tribunal they don't make it past the flames.
Excerpt: A gifted shaman came to the council and warned us of a terrible prophecy.
She claimed, "On the night of fire, Halas shall be consumed by earth. Blood shall flow like water, for death travels through the air." At that, she collapsed and died.
We have written her words, and we dread what the night of fire may signify. Whatever it means, I have doubled the defenses so that we are prepared.
Excerpt: My bones are weary, and my beard is as white as a bear's, but I am still young enough to stand up to a whippersnapper.
Kurg Dunnbrow has been exiled from Halas for daring to usurp the council. He can flee the prophecy all he likes. We are the True Men, not savage beasts like the orcs.
He can take anyone with him that also has conquest in their heart, for they have obviously turned their back on the Tribunal.
Excerpt: My fingers do not hold a quill as steady as they once did. This does not matter.
When I look to the night sky and I see the shattered moon, I realize that there are worse things that can happen to a person.
We have Halas. I have a clan. I am still a chieftain. And even though my joints do not bend as well as they did when I was young, my vow still remains as strong as ever. I will not see Halas destroyed again! Never!
Excerpt: It is hard to see what I write, for everything is much darker than it used to be.
Even with sky aflame with streaks of fire, I still only see darkness. As all the great-grandchildren walk around, pointing to the pretty rocks falling from the sky, I write my last entry. It is the night of fire, yet no one understands what that means. They do not see what is about to happen.
I am too frail to warn them. I am glad I cannot see far anymore so that I can keep my vow. I will not see Halas destroyed again.
Books
Cleaning with the Cryptkeeper This item can be placed on the floor in any house type.
This completed book can be placed in your house and read.
"Crypt Cleaning," by the Maglus family, proud keepers of the Qeynos crypts since the Age of Turmoil.
I am the current Cryptkeeper Maglus, but there's been one of our family working down here for generation upon generation. The job hands down to the second child in the family, whether male or female. Lucky for Qeynos, there's been a second Maglus child since the beginning, because I don't think any of the tombs would look even this good without us.
I know what you're thinking. You're thinking, "But Maglus, this place is an absolute DUMP!" It is and it isn't. While maybe my housekeeping skills aren't the best, I still follow the traditional methods used in the past. I mean -- look at your own place! If your home had lasted through chaos and disease and moons exploding in the air, not to mention the grounds heaving and hurling things everywhere -- it probably wouldn't look any better than the Crypt!
First thing you need to do is get a good, sturdy broom and dustpan. I have a custom-made broom with an extra-long handle so I can clear cobwebs and dust from higher ledges. As a dwarf, my own reach is a bit limited, but I manage. To keep your broom good as new, wrap the bristles with a soft old cloth before swinging it at cobwebs. Lucky for me, folks come down and clear out those nasty undead creatures, leaving behind an abundance of soft old cloths!
Most of the Bayles were buried above-ground, but there's Bayle down here whose crypt I keep. In the days of Antonius Bayle the Third, the Cryptkeeper Maglus then used to have to chase the boys out of the crypts. Except for that Kane Bayle. Now, I know he grew up to be a villain and all, but apparently he was a real thoughtful as a boy. Always stopped to chat with the Maglus of his day, bringing in some of his friends to keep her company. He may have ended up wrong, but he was a good boy.
The stones of this area of the crypt are really showing their age, despite all the Maglus' family efforts. That granite shows up every stain unless we can get to it right away. What I do is first give the area a good scrubbing with a handful of sea salt. Then I pour a bit of vinegar mixed with little bit of water on the area, let it soak for a minute or so, then wipe it off with -- you guessed it! A soft old cloth! After that, rinse the area with water, or the vinegar will chew on the mortar.
To pass the time, I've been studying some of those old magic arts, potions and things. There's always a lot to do down here, but it can get tedious. I recollect my father (who was Cryptkeeper before me) telling me how one day, he'd taken down all the burial urns from their shelves and dusted each one individually before putting it back, just to pass the time. I'd rather do something as will improve my mind. Those urns do get on my nerves, I don't mind confessing.
A long time ago, of course, folks were dressed in their finest duds, then laid out to rest in a proper coffin. When things got a bit hectic, around the War of Plagues, there were lots of dead folk, and some had no kin to bury them. That and with the diseases running rampant through Qeynos, the Cryptkeeper of that time decided it would be safer to burn up the bodies and put the ashes in little urns. It was a good idea, I just wish so many folk hadn't taken up the concept.
I'm sure you've seen them big statues in some of the rooms? We didn't put them there, meaning the Bayles or the Maglus' family. They were built up by someone else, possibly them Bloodsabers that started hanging around down here. At first, I thought they were mighty nice and I really enjoyed dusting them. Then I happened to one day look at the fires these statues are facing, and what do you know? There's a skull in them! That sure gave me a turn!
We went through that long stretch where nobody knew if there'd be another Antonius Bayle. That kind of put the Maglus family at loose ends, being keepers of the city's crypts and all. As you know everything turned out fine, with that pretty Antonia Bayle coming home. I met her once and told her about the family's job and she says, "I'm glad to meet you, Maglus!" I hope when she dies, she gets buried above ground. Not that I want her to die during my watch, that's for sure.
If there's one thing the Maglus family is used to, it's change. The world's changed quite a bit since my forebears first took on the job as keepers of the Qeynos crypts. Things change, there's a lot of weird critters down here that I don't mind saying scare me. Still, it's a steady job and in this economy, that's a good thing to have.
Books
Clockwork Chirurgeon User Manual This item can be placed on the floor in any house type.
Thank you for purchasing a Steamfont Clockwork Chirurgeon! We hope it lives up to all your special surgical needs.
A guide on how to safely operate and reliably maintain your Clockwork Chirurgeon (Model No. 4898).
List of Features and Functions Your Clockwork Chirurgeon comes pre-installed with a dizzying array of useful functions and protocols for usage on biological and mechanical subjects. - Egol Vital Accelerator (EVA) - Thanatopticon - Antiseptic Aerator - Bioamputation Assistant - Mechanamagical Disassembler (for use against mechanical subjects ONLY!) - Electromagic Discharger (for use against mechanical subjects ONLY!)
How To Clean and Maintain Your Clockwork Chirurgeon Cleaning Always use scalding hot water and a hypurgation cleaning solvent. Sterilization is key when working with organic lifeforms! Maintenance Oil the gears, joints and other moving parts before and after using your Clockwork Chirurgeon to ensure proper motion and steadiness. Failure to do so may result in horrible disfigurement or other bodily harm.
Warranty Information
For replacement parts or other maintenance devices, please visit our store in Ak'Anon, Mechanamagical Ward, District B.
We hope you enjoy your Clockwork Chirurgeon (Model No. 4898)!
Books
Collapse This item can be placed on the floor in any house type.
This completed book can be placed in your house and read.
Although change is inevitable, no one expected changes of the magnitude experienced during the Age of Cataclysms. This story is told about one of the veterans of the Age of War, who returned home to help rebuild it, only to see everything else collapse.
Every day, they considered themselves fortunate. Although Rivervale and the Misty Thicket had been overrun by the Hordes of the Inferno during the Age of War, the occupation was a relatively short one. Rebuilding commenced before the last mound of dead orcs and goblins had finished smoldering. The Runnyeye goblins, what was left of them anyway, were sent sniveling back to their caverns. The halflings looked forward to an age of peace.
Of course, peace and war are relative terms. There were still skirmishes to be fought now and then. Folks locked their doors and windows at night, when they hadn't done so in the past. The Leatherfoot Brigade was slowly rebuilding its ranks, too. Veterans returned home from the War of Defiance that had nearly swallowed Qeynos and Freeport, bringing with them tales that darkened the nights and made the comforts of home all the more enticing.
Gemma Pathfinder's shoulder still caused her intense pain when the weather was out of the east. She didn't like to join in the tales told about the first few days when the Horde swept through Rivervale. She'd been so sure they would kill her, but for some reason they'd left her unconscious on the street and continued on their way. Gemma was one of the lucky survivors, although she reflected, it was again a relative sort of luck.
Lately, her shoulder had been bothering her more and more. She moved slower than she had in the days of her youth during the War. Still, she was thankful for living long enough to see the orcs killed or driven away. She was in her beloved Rivervale to help direct its reconstruction. When the townsfolk talked about building a shrine to the dead, she pointed out that rebuilding Rivervale was the best shrine they could create. And it was.
Walking through the Misty Thicket, Gemma thanked Bristlebane yet again for her good fortune. She stood on a small hill ringed with woods pausing to catch her breath. Rubbing her aching shoulder, Gemma looked slowly about the woods. "That's odd," she thought, puzzled. "Why aren't the birds singing in the trees?" A thrill of fear chased up her spine. Were they under attack again?
Still puzzled, Gemma noticed the treetops swaying back and forth. First the motion was subtle; she only noticed it because she was looking for the silent birds. Then the trees began to sway in earnest. There was a loud, ear-splitting *BOOM* and the ground shook violently. On the hill, Gemma was tossed to the ground. She could see the earth roiling beneath its green coverlet of grass like waves on a pond.
The ground shook hard for so long that Gemma thought Norrath would shake until it broke completely apart. Trees whipping back and forth started snapping like twigs. Suddenly, Gemma felt the hill upon which she lay sprawled lifting and grinding back and forth. A large hunk of turf slipped down the rising hillside taking Gemma with it, sliding down like frosting that's been put on a cake before it cools.
Gemma's eyes were wide with fear, but she knew she had to keep her wits about her to save herself from any dangers from the shifting lands. As the shaking subsided, she cautiously stood up to take stock. The earth was ripped and torn in many places leaving jagged brown scars across the green grass. Many of the tallest trees, some that survived the fires set by the orcs and goblins those long years past, had splintered apart.
"That was some earthquake," Gemma said, brushing bits of dirt and grass from her clothes. She walked cautiously back toward Rivervale, finding new escarpments and paths covered by fallen trees. Even on the best of days, Gemma's walk was slowed by her years, but now she was navigating unfamiliar terrain entirely. It was home and not home at the same time. And for the next several days, the lands shook and screamed in agony.
An unusually thick fog hung in the air for many days after the initial earthquake. When the tremors slowed, Gemma and some of the other folk wanted to see the extent of the damage. The fog had not lifted. Standing on the edge of a newly formed cliff, Gemma gasped. Rivervale and the Misty Thicket stood within a grey fog ring and where trees once marched away toward the horizon, a furiously bubbling sea frothed instead.
Books
Collected Writings of a Mysterious Erudite This item can be placed on the floor in any house type.
A Collection of Translated Notes Compiled by: Sulian Veers
If you are reading this tome, then you are no doubt interested in the hidden history of our world. The writings within were gathered and translated by the adventurers of Norrath, who discovered them on their various journeys through our world. They were brought to me not too long ago, as I was doing some studies of the discoveries made since Odus was found once again.
We may never know who this brave erudite was that sacrificed his freedom, and possibly his life, to bring us this information. It is for that reason, if for no other, that this information cannot be lost once again.
Sulian Veers, sage of South Qeynos.
Collected Notes, vol 1 Author Unknown
It is with much rejoicing that I have discovered writings and notes lost since before the Shattering. I believe these to be of immense importance not only to learning more about the past of Norrath, but also may hold the key to discovering more about the fate of my ancestral home, the continent of Odus.
However, I believe I have also uncovered a deeper mystery, one with potentially grim implications. It seems that some of our assumptions of the fate of Odus, and of the Erudites themselves, may be shrouded within a veil of deception. I cannot be sure, but it seems that there is much to be learned here.
Although I was able to deceive the Quellithulians of The Vault of El'Arad, I believe that my very life could be in jeopardy. Thus, I must do as I can to retain my anonymity. This tome that I am sending should be copied and given to the populace of Norrath, but not widely so. If the Quellithulians discover that this information is getting out, then they may close their doors and none will learn of these important facts.
I will send you the other volumes as I can decipher them. I have discovered another possible volume near the front of the Vault, and will attempt to glean what I can from it. Should I be discovered, I will hide my notes within the tome, but will suspend it within a temporal bubble.
In order to reveal the notes, you will need a piece of mineral that can disrupt spatial relativity. I believe that such a mineral exists on Norrath in small quantities, and my have been experimented on by none other than Varsoon himself as he researched an item of power known as the Glowing Black Stone. Seek out this item, and it should allow you to break my spell.
I will contact you again once i have more for you, although I cannot be sure when that might be. Until then, be wary, as those who wish this information hidden might be all around you.
Sincerely, An Esteemed Colleague
Collected Notes, vol 2 Author Unknown
I have managed to translate the second set of the researcher's notes I found within the Vaults. After reading trough this very interesting account of what was very likely a turning point in the history of my people, I am compelled to search for another set of these notes, and see if there is more to this story.
As before, I feel that getting this information out to the people of Norrath is important for many reasons, not the least of which would be to discover the truth of what became of the Erudite's Lost ancestral home. As much as I would like to deliver this information personally, I have already fallen under scrutiny and I fear that leaving here at this time might prove to be a fatal mistake. Thus I have been forced to put the translated tom within a stasis pocket - a teleportation tear, for lack of a better term, that should be able to be accessed by anyone with the key.
I have broken the key up into four parts, so that hopefully my hosts here in the Vault will not be able to easily unlock the tear and recover the book. However, the pieces must be recovered before the key will function. Since I am unable to leave, I have sent these four pieces to four teleport locations, the largest of which was sent to the largest of the spires. There, they should lie dormant, until the largest piece is brought near - they will react to this center piece by glowing, allowing the holder of the center part of the key to identify the smaller parts.
The tear itself might be more difficult to locate, but I believe I was able to anchor it to a specific object's resonation frequency. I believe this to be a crystal or stone of some kind, but the actual location is a mystery. The only clue I can offer is this: whatever this object is, I was able to scry its frequency with relative ease, because the resonation signature was so massive. This leads me to believe that it might have been a piece of something far larger, and either broke off or fell off at some point not too long ago, perhaps during an impact. Find this larger object, and the smaller one should be found nearby.
Find the anchor and touch the key to it. The breach should open, allowing the book to be retrieved from inside. I will continue my search from here, and should I locate the other set of notes, I will find a way to allow the world of Norrath to see them.
The truth will soon be known. Until then, peace be with you.
Sincerely, An Esteemed Colleague
Collected Notes, vol. 3 Author Unknown
Esteemed scholars,
I apologize for my long absence. Unfortunately, I was discovered translating the third set of researchers notes, and have been imprisoned for some time. I cannot be certain of my fate, although what happens to me now is of little consequence, for the information I have is invaluable. It details a troubling event involving not only in the history of the Erudites, but possibly all of Norrath.
When the guards caught me, I was able to hide away the pieces of the journal I had copied. I knew that I was under suspicion, and I copied all of the notes I found onto individual pieces of parchment. During my imprisonment, I have been able to translate the documents where there has been ample light, and minimal supervision. Thus, I give you now the last piece of the researcher's notes. I feel there may be even more beyond this set, but I fear I am no longer free to locate them. Consider this as the last.
As I translated each page, I was able to send the parchment through a teleportation pocket, as I have done before. However, I have been kept in a weakened state, and can no longer fully complete the rituals necessary for transference. Therefore, I believe the pages are stuck in the final stages of materialization, and might not have emerged in the physical plane. I suspect these partially materialized pages may appear as something akin to a small storm, a cloud of dark energy. I attempted to place them close to the highest concentration of the populace of Norrath; search near the larger cities to find them.
The pages will appear blank. I wrote them with a special ink that prevents the script from being seen, even when held against the light. You will need to create a special was in order to make the script appear to your eyes.
First, you must obtain an ink made with enchanted water - as you know, this is not hard to come by. This ink you should be able to find within any of the libraries of Norrath, contained in a simple vial.
The ink itself, however is not enough. You must create a wash by combining the ink with volcanic ash. The chemical properties of the ash will change the enchanted ink into the necessary wash, and allow the pages to reveal their words. You can find the ash near any volcano, be it active or burned out.
Once, you have collected the twelve pages, and have the ink and ash in hand, purchase a leatherback tome cover from the sages - this will help to preserve the fragile parchment, and keep it safe for all to see. Combine these items in the tome cover, and you will have completed the notes. I believe this is the last you will hear from me. I am grateful that these notes now have seen the light of Norrath, and I hope they provide valuable information to the scholars and adventurers of our world. Farewell, my friends. May knowledge be our savior in the times ahead.
Books
Commonlands Creature Catalog This item can be placed on the floor in any house type.
As I catalog various flora and fauna, I can refer to this book.
Before the Rending, the continent of D'Lere was part of a very large continent that included the cities of Qeynos, Freeport, Halas, Rivervale, Highhold, Oggok and Gukta. Now its own region, D'Lere's southern section is known as the Commonlands.
This area was a major setting for the Battle of Defiance, during which the Overlord, Sir Lucan D'Lere, provided the necessary leadership for the men of Freeport to prevail over the Deathfist orcs.
The Commonlands is situated on the southern half of D'Lere, separated from Nektulos by Razorrock Ridge.
While there are numerous nomadic camps in the plains, the region's major city is Freeport.
The Freewater Channel begins off the Commonlands' eastern shore, while the Tranquil Sea borders it to the south and southwest.
Razorrock Ridge blocks the passage of cooling air from the north, which gives the air in the Commonlands a dry edge.
During the day, temperatures rise rapidly; it is necessary to pack in as much water as possible, as the ponds in the region are frequented by territorial creatures.
At night, the clear skies mean the temperature will fall quickly. Due to the relative lack of humidity, frost is not a concern during Decay and rains are not prevalent during Growth or Harvest.
The majority of the flora of the Commonlands is in the form of grasses, both long and short varieties.
Trees are more plentiful around the water holes, which can seem like an oasis in a desert of golden grass. The sparse trees on the kopjes are usually from the acacia family, which go dormant during the long dry period after the last rains of Growth.
Flowers are limited to cornflowers and strawblossoms, although featherheads are occasionally seen at the bottom of muddy pools.
Orcs have dominated the Commonlands for most of its history, although they were driven back during the Battle of Defiance. In recent times, however, they are again presenting a nuisance to travelers through the region. One will also encounter various scaled lizards and insects, such as basilisks and scorpions. Predators lurk near any source of water, particularly savanna lions.
Books
Commonlands Creature Catalog This item can be placed on the floor in any house type.
As I catalog various flora and fauna, I can refer to this book.
NO-TRADE
Offers the Quest 'Commonlands Creature Cataloging'
Before the Rending, the continent of D'Lere was part of a very large continent that included the cities of Qeynos, Freeport, Halas, Rivervale, Highhold, Oggok and Gukta. Now its own region, D'Lere's southern section is known as the Commonlands.
This area was a major setting for the Battle of Defiance, during which the Overlord, Sir Lucan D'Lere, provided the necessary leadership for the men of Freeport to prevail over the Deathfist orcs.
The Commonlands is situated on the southern half of D'Lere, separated from Nektulos by Razorrock Ridge.
While there are numerous nomadic camps in the plains, the region's major city is Freeport.
The Freewater Channel begins off the Commonlands' eastern shore, while the Tranquil Sea borders it to the south and southwest.
Razorrock Ridge blocks the passage of cooling air from the north, which gives the air in the Commonlands a dry edge.
During the day, temperatures rise rapidly; it is necessary to pack in as much water as possible, as the ponds in the region are frequented by territorial creatures.
At night, the clear skies mean the temperature will fall quickly. Due to the relative lack of humidity, frost is not a concern during Decay and rains are not prevalent during Growth or Harvest.
The majority of the flora of the Commonlands is in the form of grasses, both long and short varieties.
Trees are more plentiful around the water holes, which can seem like an oasis in a desert of golden grass. The sparse trees on the kopjes are usually from the acacia family, which go dormant during the long dry period after the last rains of Growth.
Flowers are limited to cornflowers and strawblossoms, although featherheads are occasionally seen at the bottom of muddy pools.
Orcs have dominated the Commonlands for most of its history, although they were driven back during the Battle of Defiance. In recent times, however, they are again presenting a nuisance to travelers through the region. One will also encounter various scaled lizards and insects, such as basilisks and scorpions. Predators lurk near any source of water, particularly savanna lions.
Books
Consequences of Thralldom This item can be placed on the floor in any house type.
This is a mastery tome. Use the knowledge contained within to gain a basic understanding of the tactics to use against the chosen foe.
Being somewhat of an expert in conjuring manifestations of creatures both magic and mundane, the new focus of my studies should surprise no one. Menial tasks such as cleaning, cooking, and laboring are things I hardly have time to burden myself with. Instead I have taken it upon myself to summon a multitude of planar creatures whom I will subjugate, train, and ultimately command to do my bidding. To accomplish this task I have brought on board a noted diviner named Sachin Al'Faz who claims to be the foremost authority on planar positioning and triangulation. In spite of his pompous nature I have agreed to make him a partner in this experiment. His knowledge will help me ascertain exactly where I must focus my search.
Day 17
That fooI, Sachin, is attempting to renege on his promise! He claims that he cannot continue our work together because he must instead go to work for that blunderhead, El'Arad. Nonsensical poppycock, if you ask me! El'Arad has already assembled an entire army of sages, researches, analysts and laborers to assist him at the Grand Farisian Nexus. Why can’t Sachin see that our work takes precedence? Should he still refuse to complete the equations we begin tomorrow morning, I fear drastic measures will have to be taken. The gangrene of misguided loyalty should not be allowed to rot the fruits of my work!
Day 19
Harsh words turned to blows this morning, at least in the manner seen fit for two mages. At daybreak I arose to find Sachin clearing his work table and packing the last of his equipment. When I confronted him about the unfinished equations, he demurred on his obligations to me and muttered something about bringing glory to the "singular greatest Erudian cause." Sheer nonsense if you ask me. In the end, Mr. Al'Faz had to be fettered by magical means. Though I did not take pleasure in confining him against his will, he left me no choice but to trap him until he finished his work Finally, after what seemed like hours, the equations were complete.
It was my decision to draw upon creatures from the Plane of Dreams. I expect to summon a sylph-like creature or perhaps a gentle beast of burden. As I have stated before, the summoned being must only be fit to perform chores around my laboratory and domicile. Defense is, and will always be, placed iii the hands of my Tellurian servant. Who better a soldier than a mindlessly loyal pile of rocks?
Day 22
That bastard will pay for what he has done! In his bitterness the fool must have intentionally changed the variable coordinates used in the equation. Upon the completion of the spell I opened my eyes and saw not golden sylphs or benevolent beasts, but foul-smelling wicked beasts that can best be described as bipedal goats!
For what it is worth, the fiends did appear to be granted with some merit of intelligence. Despite their thick dialect, I was able to decipher their native tongue as being Thulian. They claimed to be servants of Terris-Thule, demi-goddess of the Plane of Nightmares.
The goatmen, or Gruengach as they call themselves, were quickly growing agitated. They demanded to be returned to where they came from so they could continue their work for their dark mistress. When I inquired as to where that place was, the Gruengach seemed at a loss for words.
Day 23
As best as I could tell the Gruengach serve as servants to Terris-Thule despite not actually residing within the Plane of Nightmares. Their work, it appears, is
done behveen the Planes. When I began to explain the complexities in deciphering the specific point o their origin they grew angry and violent. No sooner had their leader raised his mottled claw in anger, that my Tellurian defender intervened by smashing him in the chest. A wretched cacophony of braying resulted when the rest of the Gruengach realized what had just occurred. Not wasting another moment, I mesmerized the whole lot and placed them in a submissive trance. Day 58
It has been several weeks since my subjugation of the band of Gruengach. Although unfit for some of the more delicate tasks I had envisioned my summoned help to assist me with, the brutish strength and willpower of their kind makes them an
almost inexhaustible source of labor. Having more or less mastered the act of incarcerating the goatmen, I have since taken it upon myself to summon more of them, thus creating a veritable army of Gruengach all under my absolute command! Day 92
Today I was greeted by none other than El'Arad himself! As he entered the courtyard to my grounds I could see his eyes widen in disbelief at the sight of my burgeoning workforce. I explained to him the manner in which I had summoned the Gruengach and the way in which I had incarcerated them into thralldom. For once in his life the old man seemed impressed with the efforts of someone beside himself.
Day 106
El'Arad returned to my home today with a most lucrative proposition. He expressed interest in purchasing several Gruengach to serve as his own servants and guards. Apparently the old man is close to completing the Farisian Nexus and wishes to protect his work with an added amount of security. I was more than happy to oblige. As a token of appreciation I was invited to join him during the inaugural activation of the Farisian Nexus. I leave for Quel'ule tomorrow.
Day 146
A calamity of monumental proportions has occurred. This entry must be short as I am recording this on borrowed time. The activation of the Nexus did not go as planned. An explosion has occurred unlike any I have witnessed previously. Something that could be best described as a mighty blast of lightning-like power dispersed out from the hub of the Nexus. Many were killed as the town of Quel'ule was torn asunder. Outside the sky had changed and I am unable to find the sun or the stars in the sky. To make matters worse the archaic dominance I once held over the Gruengach has been losI My attempts to subjugate them once more have proved to be unsuccessful.
Day 147
I am writing what rn4i well be my final living thoughts. The barricade is beginning to collapse and I fear my Tellurian champion will not be able to hold them off forever. The goatmen have not forgotten who placed them in unwilling servitude and they seem hell-bent on taking their revenge. I fear I...
There are no additional journal entries.
Books
Creatures of the Creators Catalog This item can be placed on the floor in any house type.
As I catalog various flora and fauna, I can refer to this book.
NO-TRADE
Offers the Quest 'Creatures of the Creators Cataloging'
Creatures of the Creators Catalog by Pearl Honeywine
Some of the creatures found in Norrath today were created by mages for various reasons.
In particular, these creations can be found in and around Nektropos Castle in Nektulos on D'Lere or within the Ruins of Varsoon in Antonica on Karan.
Nektropos Castle is the former home of Lord Rikantus Everling and is located within dark woodlands of Nektulos.
The Ruins of Varsoon are in what was once called the Keep of Immortality in Antonica. It is interesting to note that despite the cataclysmic events of the past few hundred seasons, both D'Lere and Antonica have ancient keeps with their unfortunate inhabitants.
Externally, Nektropos Castle and the Ruins of Varsoon enjoy (if that can be said) the same weather patterns as the regions in which they are located.
Internally, the air within these ancient buildings remains charged with the mystic energies of their former owners. Though dark and occasionally damp, they are both remarkably well-preserved.
Flora within these structures is limited to lichens, which form on the stone surfaces on the northern and eastern interior rooms. As the structures are enclosed (or nearly completely underground, as with the Ruins of Varsoon), light is diffused or nonexistent. Fungi grow in organic litter on the lowest floors of these buildings.
Constructed creatures are generally considered part of the "golem" family of creatures, regardless of their outward appearance. However, magical constructs also exist and can include mundane objects such as books or statues that will reanimate only upon being disturbed. That makes travel through the Ruins of Varsoon and Nektropos Castle particularly dangerous, as potentially anything could be a dormant creature.
Books
Creatures of the Creators Catalog This item can be placed on the floor in any house type.
As I catalog various flora and fauna, I can refer to this book.
Creatures of the Creators Catalog by Pearl Honeywine
Some of the creatures found in Norrath today were created by mages for various reasons.
In particular, these creations can be found in and around Nektropos Castle in Nektulos on D'Lere or within the Ruins of Varsoon in Antonica on Karan.
Nektropos Castle is the former home of Lord Rikantus Everling and is located within dark woodlands of Nektulos.
The Ruins of Varsoon are in what was once called the Keep of Immortality in Antonica. It is interesting to note that despite the cataclysmic events of the past few hundred seasons, both D'Lere and Antonica have ancient keeps with their unfortunate inhabitants.
Externally, Nektropos Castle and the Ruins of Varsoon enjoy (if that can be said) the same weather patterns as the regions in which they are located.
Internally, the air within these ancient buildings remains charged with the mystic energies of their former owners. Though dark and occasionally damp, they are both remarkably well-preserved.
Flora within these structures is limited to lichens, which form on the stone surfaces on the northern and eastern interior rooms. As the structures are enclosed (or nearly completely underground, as with the Ruins of Varsoon), light is diffused or nonexistent. Fungi grow in organic litter on the lowest floors of these buildings.
Constructed creatures are generally considered part of the "golem" family of creatures, regardless of their outward appearance. However, magical constructs also exist and can include mundane objects such as books or statues that will reanimate only upon being disturbed. That makes travel through the Ruins of Varsoon and Nektropos Castle particularly dangerous, as potentially anything could be a dormant creature.
Books
Dancing with Bugbears This item can be placed on the floor in any house type.
This is a mastery tome. Use the knowledge contained within to gain a basic understanding of the tactics to use against the chosen foe.
My studies and life among the captivating bugbears of Butcherblock Mountains.
After months of talk and study, I have decided to go where my heart has been pulling. I am leaving for Butcherblock from the Thundering Steppes, tomorrow! My calling is amongst the misunderstood bugbears. I will bring a knowledge of these poor creatures to all of Norrath!
Some believe that a halfling woman, such as myself, must be mad, choosing to study such intimidating beings. And be it in a foreign and treacherous land, then she's doubly mad! I silence them with my rebuttal, "If I do not do it, who will?"
I landed at the Butcherblock docks, and has soon secured a dwarven guide and several helpers to aid my trips to the bugbear camp. They were a burly lot, and looked a bit rough around the edges, but they certainly knew the fastest paths and the safest routes. Play well spent, no doubt! We traversed north through the lush Highlands with little trouble, and made camp for the night a bit off from the bugbears. *** The next morning, the dwarves and I shared a meal and resumed our trek to the bugbear camp.
We weren't but a griffin's leap from the camp when a large bugbear came running at us from the side! It was a male, wearing crude skins and jagged metal bits as armor. He wielded a club with nails embedded in its surface.
The dwarves fought back, in their fear and ignorance. This only brought others to the fight! I tried to calm the lot, to stop the dwarves, but they must not have heard me what with all the screaming. I cannot blame these abused creatures! Here we were coming to their homes appearing as an army might.
They had long been the slaves of other Underfoot races, and our merry band of scientists must have looked to them like any other, coming in to enslave them, again.
I was blessed that they had noticed my pacifist nature, and my respect for their well being. I mourned for my guides, who knew no better then to meet aggression in kind, but I am here as proof that it is not the only answer. ***
I established my own camp very near to theirs, and have even been allowed to watch them from afar. I know they are watching me, too. Studying my moves and behavior, no doubt, as I am theirs. They are too protective and inquisitive not to!
How such a majestic race came to be thought of as a disgrace or purely as muscle and fodder for mining and construction initiatives is beyond me! ***
As I have been living near the bugbear clan and studying them, they have grown increasingly inquisitive and welcoming of my presence. Several have approached me, and have been grateful for the meals that I have shared with them!
Language is a bit of a challenge, but with patience and an open mind, I find that we communicate quite well. The desires of a child are easy to discern even before they can speak. The situation is similar, and at some points has triggered my maternal instincts. ***
During my studies, I have made a great deal of headway with the clan, and have even been approached by some of the more curious ones, even nick named several!
Pookie is demure. Light in tint, he takes extra care to muss his hair with mud. He enjoys watching me and has even started to imitate my writing with his finger. Nibbles is a darker brown. He enjoys stocking small creatures, and is rather protective of his kills.
Cuddles is an enamored member of the clan. He even gives me kisses. Or that is to say, his version. I have never witnessed the bugbear show affection amongst themselves, but he licks my face, and smacks his lips. It is quite sweet.
Jumjum is a fighter, and has been witnessed instigating more than one amongst his own clan. I wonder if he is trying to prove his worth for battle. Silverback named for the distinctive patch of silver hair on his back, though it is often covered by his leather smock. ***
I was fortunate to witness a prize being presented to the clan leader, today! I hunting party passed by my camp grunting and barking at one another. Their volume indicated that they were excited by something. It had alarmed me at first, but their body language told me it was a joyous occasion. They walked proud, and were hitting each other playfully.
Once within their camp, they gathered in front of the leader, and many ornate armor pieces were thrown on the ground at his feet. He made a great whoop!
Jumjum then produced several very hairy looking orbs from a bundled object he carried. I could not make out the objects from my distance sadly, but it brought the entire tribe to grunting, and hitting the ground! What an adventure to see such joy and pride exuded from these graceful creatures! *** I must admit that I am confused by the other Faydwer folk. Earlier, some startled me as I was strolling back from studying Pookie. They called to me while waving their arms and motioning me to come hither.
"Thank Tunare, we got here in time!" "What is the matter?" I asked. They appeared dumbstruck. "You are in grave danger, dear lady." One even warned, "That one's a man killer!" "I am in no such danger." I assured them. "I only fear being crushed by their love!"
And with that, I walked back to my camp, to continue my mission. My published work will disprove misconceptions and myths about the bugbear, including the myth that they are violent. ***
The clan has been very busy the last few days. The gatherers have been collecting fresh game, and roots while the crafters have been making new skins into banners and clothes. They must be getting ready for a ceremony or a celebration or some kind!
The best news is that Cuddles has come to my tent. I think he wish me to join in the party! He is wearing some of the new skins upon his head and is accompanied by one of the tribe shaman. They are waiting with me now, but have made motions and grunts to each other to indicate I am to follow.
Perhaps they wish to make me a part of the tribe or to extend some other pleasantry upon me! No doubt, my next entry shall be full of merriment and awe. I am excited to share all that would have occurred, and all that I have learned on this night! ***
(There are no further entries. This page, like many of the following pages, is smeared with crusty mud and blood left by thick fingerprints.)
Books
Day log of R.F. This item can be placed on the floor in any house type.
Remmy Fulgation's Day log for Operation: Cold Glue
O.S. 0:
I've decided to go into the camp itself. I've left my supplies and field journal safely atop the hill where I had previously been spying. If I am lucky I won't wake any of them. If I am unlucky I may be forced to use the MU-FieldBot III I requisitioned to create some sort of diversion.
Books
Deep Marshes This item can be placed on the floor in any house type.
This completed book can be placed in your house and read.
"Deep Marshes." After the sudden invasion of Gukta by the new Rallosian Army, a band of frogloks heads north to seek help.
Without the aid of the Avatar of War, the ogres could never have planned such an attack. Gukta had been the site of many battles over the years, but the force arrayed by General Urduuk proved strongest of all. Now, though they were loathe to do so, the frogloks were on the run. The ogres had never before had such a force, despite their brute strength. No, it was not a newly intelligent ogre that bested the froglok, but the Avatar of War itself.
Down into the tunnels they ran, many clutching the eggs which would be a new generation of froglok. They had had time to clear the hatchery before flight. Though retreat is not the froglok way, the elders knew that living to fight another day and bearing away the eggs would be the better thing for them to do. A small garrison was left to distract the ogres and defend Gukta. The rest hurried into the dark.
"The ogre army will not be content with taking a swamp," said Agakk, one of the elders. "We must send word to the outsiders, to warn them of the danger these ogres cause." "I will go," said Guruup, bowing deeply. "My unit and I will make our way out to Freeport. The Overlord must hear of this villainous turn of events." Agakk nodded. "Yes, I agree. Go at once, Guruup and may Mithaniel Marr protect you."
There are many ways through the woods and so it is with the swamps. Guruup's unit was small, for speed would be their best defense. At Innothule's northernmost point, the froglok unit conferred quickly. If they traveled up through the river valley, they would then need to cut east across the Commonlands to reach Freeport. Or, they could turn west to Qeynos instead. The direct route through the Desert of Ro was not favored, but it had the advantage of being the most direct route to Freeport.
"We must make haste, Guruup," whispered Barab, one of his lieutenants. "Though the Desert is dangerously dry, it would be the way anyone would least likely expect us to take." Guruup nodded and said, "You speak the truth, Barab. Through the Desert of Ro!" They caked their skin with mud to protect it from the hot desert air, then pushed onward. To increase their chances of survival, they subdivided into smaller units that one by one crossed into the unforgiving desert.
Traveling by night to keep out of the sun, the frogloks struggled through the swirling sands. Their skin was soft and supple by nature. Even with a layer of dried mud upon it, the frogloks felt the oppressive dryness in the air that seemed to suck every last ounce of energy from them. Gusts of wind drove the sand into their faces, rubbing them raw. As their skin cracked from lack of moisture, some of the frogloks picked at the scabs that formed almost instantly in the heat, licking their wounds to moisten their tongues with their own blood.
They were a tired, footsore and bedraggled group when they reached Freeport at last. Though many had not survived the harsh crossing, between the heat and the sand giants, more than three-quarters of Guruup's was still unit intact. The frogloks paused briefly to take rooms at a local inn and to cleanse themselves, then they hurried to gain an audience with the Overlord.
An audience with the Overlord is not always granted, and certainly never at the first request. Guruup and his lieutenants waited three days before the Overlord would see them. Even then, it was clear that he was doing so for his own hidden purpose. He met with Guruup in the long hallway and Guruup had to complete his petition before the Overlord reached the opposite end of the hall.
Guruup was unable to convince the Overlord of the seriousness of the ogre forces. "Come now, little one," the Overlord said upon reaching the hall's end. "You have been fighting everyone for control of Grobb -- that is, Gukta -- for many generations. This is another petty squabble; I'm afraid Freeport's military cannot be spared on something like this. You'll have better luck elsewhere." Guruup bowed, concealing his anger as the Overlord exited the hall.
"The Overlord will not get involved," Guruup told the frogloks. "We have rested here long enough; let us proceed now to Qeynos. May the hand of Marr guide us." "May the hand of Marr guide us," Guruup's unit repeated reverently. And so, the frogloks prepared for their next journey: across the Commonlands and through the plains of Karana to reach the city of Qeynos.
Books
Destroy All Vampires! This item can be placed on the floor in any house type.
This is a mastery tome. Use the knowledge contained within to gain a basic understanding of the tactics to use against the chosen foe.
Destroy All Vampires! A book that could save your life
By Edghar and Alain Toad
Vampires are evil rotting corpses that walk, talk, and bite. They're the worst kind of undead because they can pretend to be people. And they're contagious. Vampirism is spreading across Norrath like wildfire, and the authors have dedicated their lives to destroying this menace.
Vampires can be found just about anywhere, but some places are much riskier than others.
Neriak's vampires are right out in the open. It's so bad that we think Dark Elves probably invented vampirism. The nearby forests of Nektulos and Darklight Wood are crawling with fangs too.
Freeport has become a haven for the undead. We suspect that the Overlord himself is a bloodsucker, considering how long he's lived.
Faydwer is not safe either. We're almost certain that vampires and ghouls occupy key positions in the royal courts of Tunaria and Kelethin, and bloodsucker central is definitely the Loping Plains.
If you ever meet a vampire:
Remember that it only wants your blood.
Don't believe anything it says! Don't even let it speak if you can help it.
You can not make a deal or reason with it.
Don't make eye contact! It'll pull a mind-scramble and before you know it you'll be vamp-chow.
If you have holy water, a wooden stake or garlic, use it!
If you don't have the appropriate gear, run! Get into sunlight as soon as possible.
Warning signs that someone is becoming a vampire:
Cold skin. Bad breath. Long fingernails. No heartbeat. Sunlight bothers them. They cast no reflection in a mirror. They sleep a lot, especially during the day. They complain about being thirsty. They were just bitten by a vampire.
Diagnosis is simple. If a person shows any three of these symptoms, then it's not a person anymore. It's a vampire!
What to do: If someone you know is becoming a vampire there's only one thing you can do. Get a good sharp stake and drive it right through their heart! There is no cure except death. Kill them. You'll feel better.
A sharp stake is the most important tool any vampire hunter can have. Keep at least three of them handy at all times. A vampire with a wooden stake in its heart is guaranteed to bite the dust! Just don't pull the stake back out again, just in case. That's why you need three.
In a pinch you can use substitutes for the wooden stake. Bones work because they count as wood. Antlers, horns, tusks, wooden posts, pool cues, broken off table legs, and jagged tree trunks also make decent staking material.
Holy water is the next best weapon against bloodsuckers. Get any priest to bless some water and you're good to go. If you can trick a vampire into drinking holy water then they're done for, but you're probably not clever enough for that so we recommend a delivery mechanism. Buckets are hard to aim with, but holy water sprinklers are good, and water balloons are even better. And don't forget, a wet towel sprinkled with holy water works great in close quarters as both a weapon and a shield!
It's a well known face that vampires hate garlic. We're not sure why. Maybe it's because the plant is sacred to Tunare or maybe they just hate everything that smells good.
Whatever the reason, garlic is a fantastic bloodsucker repellant. You should always keep a bulb of garlic around your neck and anywhere else you don't want them to bite. A garlic cloak is like awesome vampire-proof armor!
Because sunlight is lethal, vampires must hide during the day, so they need help to defend themselves. They keep many kinds of minions to serve this purpose.
Ravenous werewolves, hounds of hell, bloodthirsty bats and stirges are just a few of the fiends you can expect to encounter when cracking a vampire's lair, so you'll need more than just sharp sticks and holy water. Wolfsbane, silver and wrought iron weapons, bright lights and fire are all must-haves. Tumpy's Tasty Tranquilizing Treats work great on hell-hounds too.
When you think you've taken out a vampire, you need to make sure because they are really good at faking it. Some vampires can recover from a stake in the heart if you pull it back out. One species of vampire can even survive in daylight!
The only way to be sure a vampire is dead is to burn its body completely and bury the ashes at a crossroads. And remember: no two bloodsuckers die the same way, but all will try to take you with them.
That's it. If you've read this fae then you know all tricks of vampire hunting. Now go out there and totally annihilate those night-stalking freaks!
Death to all vampires!
Scrolls
Djinn Scriptorium Papers This item can be placed on the floor in any house type.
Writings from the scriptorium in the Shimmering Citadel.
This is a collection of scattered papers about Mudeef from the Scriptorium in the Shimmering Citadel.
For while Mudeef remained a guest of the Master, he stole many small yet valuable items; some of which included vessels from the Plane of Sky. When the Trickster returned to his desert city, he used dark arts to imprison and cruelly abuse several djinn. The Master pursued him, bringing his entire citadel into Mudeef's world to keep watch and bring home the kidnapped innocents; innocents whom Mudeef tortures to this very day.
In the long ago, when travel between the Planes was common, Mudeef the Vizier made the point of visiting other realms to form alliances and friendships that would benefit his people. As calamities began to fall upon other areas, Mudeef begged his friends to consider moving to Maj'Dul with its sturdy walls.
Though many thanked Mudeef for his generosity, the Djinn Master seethed when he learned that many djinn were foresaking his fiefdom for the more relaxed lifestyle in Maj'Dul. The Djinn Master sent spies to the Vizier, cloaked as gifts of silver, crystal and gold, in order to keep watch over Mudeef. This faithless "friend" planned to wrest control of the city from Mudeef.
In the long ago, a poor beggar wandered the desert. His robes were tattered and torn and he was near death from thirst. A djinna from the Plane of Sky encountered the beggar and took pity upon him, bringing him with her to the Shimmering Citadel. As he recovered his strength, he told marvelous tales of how he, Mudeef, had been the ruler of a city of humans, but had been deposed through trickery and deceit.
Books
Donnghail - Clan McNaggle This item can be placed on the floor in any house type.
A competent bookbinder is a valuable resource who can restore any book that's had pages removed.
This is a copy of the journal kept by a chieftain of the barbarian people of Halas. It chronicles the sad end of Halas.
Entry One:
The orcs have been riled up, but I donna know what's gotten into them. It's my job to find out, though.
I canna have them causing any more problems to our people than they already have. I just hope the Tribunal has judged us worthy enough to keep the peace and to smite those beasts down before they get outta hand.
Entry Two:
A couple of hunting parties have come back and told us chieftains that the orcs are gathering together. We're beginning to think that we should have voted differently during last thaw's vote.
Choosing to stop attacking those beasts for the time being so that we don't wipe them out like the mammoths may have been in folly.
I only hope this isn't an omen of things to come.
Entry Three:
Those blasted orcs have been amassing in greater numbers since we last checked on them. Two scouting parties never returned, and the only survivor of the third have confirmed our greatest fears.
The orcs now have an army that numbers in the thousands. Though it's impossible to think of it, we may have to prepare for war against the monsters.
Entry Four:
Our worst fears have come to pass. The massive war party of the orcs are on the move. From what the spotters have told us, they seem to be moving in the direction of our town.
I've ordered the hunters to gather as much food as they can find. In one week we will draw the rafts back from the shore and allow no access into the city. I can only wonder what crime we have performed that would cause the Tribunal to sentence us to this punishment.
Entry Five:
They've spent the past two weeks digging through the collapsed tunnels. Those monsters can't get in, but nor can we get out.
We have enough frozen food to last us a long time, but the orcs don't seem as if they're going to give up anytime soon.
I've had to double the shifts of the guards, just in case those beasts breach the defenses.
Entry Six:
The blasted buggers broke through, but they didn't know what they were getting into. It's one thing to start a fight with us barbarians, but attack our home?
ATTACK OUR HOME!?
Now they'll see what unbridled fury looks like. They thought we were angry before? Now they're gonna get what's coming to them!
Entry Seven:
We've got them on the run! Chopping through hundreds of orcs at a time, those beasts have seen what happens when you cross one of the True Men.
Axes swinging, we mowed through their numbers with a fury they've never seen before. Now it's time to hunt down all the stragglers.
No one attacks Halas and expects to live long enough to tell stories about it. AHHAAA! I haven't felt this alive in years!
Entry Eight:
The shamans have failed us. They say the Tribunal no longer passes any judgments, nor do they respond to our questions.
We chieftains will delay our vote to the last minute, in hopes that the Tribunal deems what is about to happen to Halas as a great injustice.
For the orcs that our men wiped out was nothing more than the forward party. The true army of orcs is still on their way. And their numbers are in the tens of thousands.
Entry Nine:
We have passed a vote that no barbarian chieftain should ever have to decide upon. With a heavy heart, we have sent many of the children and elderly away from Halas before the orcs arrive.
Guiding them will be the men and women who cannot fight. They will go to the city of Qeynos and request help from their troops. I pray the Tribunal guides them there safely.
The orcs are upon us, and we fight night and day. We will not just allow these beasts to walk in with an invitation. If they want Halas, they'll pay for it with fields of their lost blood. I only hope our people make it to Qeynos. They weren't told the real reason for their exodus. They are our only hope for survival - Halas is doomed.
Books
Drakota This item can be placed on the floor in any house type.
This is a mastery tome. Use the knowledge contained within to gain a basic understanding of the tactics to use against the chosen foe.
"Drakota," by Pearl Honeywine -- Being a study of the lore of the Norrathian drakota.
The drakotas are surrounded by many legendary tales. This book strives to maintain a balance between the truth and the lore. You be the judge of its veracity.
The drakota are the lesser of all dragonkind. Although the lesser of all dragonkind, they are still quite formidable.
They have existed for as long as dragons have been placed on Norrath. They were the most chaotic of dragonkind and most drakota pillaged settlements of elder races.
Powerful creatures with powerful bodies, drakota have the gift of flight and are considered some of the fastest fliers of all dragonkind.
Their hides are also considerably thicker than that of most standard dragons, but lack any magical properties.
The greater dragons at first frowned upon the careless actions of the drakota, but soon came to realize their formidable power.
The drakota needed to be controlled lest they destroy everything in their path and then turn on their own kind.
At this point, all information about the drakota becomes a bit muddled.
It would be easiest to wrest the information directly from a drakota, but this is also a good way to find oneself on the wrong side of the Ring of Scale, to whose faction the drakota belong.
One must proceed as cautiously and coyly as a dragon itself.
Some legends say that a method of controlling the drakota was created and that this artifact had been used to successfully command the drakota in a variety of battles.
Other legends say that over time, the drakotas' spirit matured and they learn to calm themselves without external influences.
Perhaps the truth lies somewhere else entirely.
There have been sightings of drakota in modern Norrath that do support the notion that they have calmed down somewhat.
They glide across the skies, wings outstretched and heads turning this way and that, as though keeping a close eye on everything in their path.
Mariners report sightings of drakota circling their ships, occasionally landing and tearing apart any container they find.
Sometimes, this includes the entire ship as the drakota uses its strength to pull apart a deck to view the contents of that ship's hold.
With these sorts of reports, it seems the drakota are searching for something.
What that might be, or even if they are searching, is unknown.
They are an impressive sight in the air, though, especially at sunset when they appear to be the most active.
Now, I have interviewed several drakota and have obviously lived to tell about the experience.
They are fierce, secretive and intelligent beings. One must never underestimate their power.
By being open and honest about my goals I was able to earn enough trust to hold a short audience with them and to leave in one piece.
I hope this information provides you with enough basic information about drakota that you will be able to learn more about them on your own.
Be wary, respectful and evasive and you may soon know more about the drakota than this historian.
Books
Elements of Devotion This item can be placed on the floor in any house type.
This is a mastery tome. Use the knowledge contained within to gain a basic understanding of the tactics to use against the chosen foe.
Sister, you've been encouraging me to journal a bit of my life, ever since I left home. Better late than never, right?
Master Devianni woke me this morning, telling me to help her pack up for a field trip, which, in and of itself was not something extraordinary. Blurry-eyed and groggy, I asked where this particular field trip would take us. That's when I noted the excitement that she was barely keeping in check, as she exclaimed, "The Planes of Order!" And with that, she ran out of the room with an armload of items, leaving me flabbergasted.
I've been serving Master Devianni for three years now. She's always been eccentric, what summoner isn't, right? But she's not inclined to be hyperbolic or to have any humor, I've ever found. And yet, I still couldn't believe what I had just heard. The Planes of Order!? "What? Fire, Water, Air, Earth? THE planes!?" I called after her.
"The very same!" she called back to me, with a slam of a chest lid.
I started looking around the room, at the articles of clothing I would have to pack. "Beg my pardon, Master, but which one?"
"All of them! Well, hopefully all of them! After a bit of Magic, but yeah, all of them!"
So here I am, sitting at the ancient Combine Spires. No wait, what had Master Devianni called them? Quadroliths? It sounds like a really old word. She knows a bunch of stuff like that. Anyway, I'm waiting here for her. She had to stop off to acquire some spell components. I figured this would be a good time to journal, as I am not sure how often I'm going to get the opportunity in the coming days.
Huh. It turned out that when Master Devianni said, we had a bit of Magic ahead of us first, she didn't mean a spell or an incantation. Nope. She meant THE Plane of Magic! It's breathtaking here! Everything here is abuzz with magical energy, even the air! But of course, that's not why we're here. Master Devianni had heard of some very strong elementals encountered here, and not just of one type, either.
I'm still not sure what she has in mind, but she is rather hopeful about it. She's speaking with some of the local inhabitants here about the elementals now. Here's hoping she'll get whatever information she's looking for.
Today Master Devianni and I found a small island floating in the Plane of Magic populated by some the impressively strong elementals she had heard tales of. There was one of fire and at least two of air. Seemed the advice she got from the lovely locals was dependable! Upon seeing the hardy elementals she ordered me to crouch down, behind a boulder. After rummaging around in one of the packs I held, she took a calm, deep breath, smiled at me, then ran toward one of the air elementals, and out of my eyesight.
I sat there, on the ground, the weight of my many packs being supported by the boulder that offered me protection and respite. After what seemed like an eternity, Master Devianni returned. She held two enchanted pouches. One was obviously very heavy, and smoking, while the other might have flown off, if she hadn't been holding it tightly. We returned to our camp, near the spires that could have taken us back to Norrath, back to hearth and home, but that's not what she had in mind! I bet she has her eyes fixed on the other two element types.
It's been a few days since my last entry, but let's just say, I was right! Master Devianni was determined to encounter water and earth elementals, and acquire pieces of both, and after she did so, she was so thrilled she began casting a spell on them, right then and there! I had no idea what to expect. "Master, what are you doing? Maybe you should rest first."
"No time, my dear," she said while repeatedly drawing a complex pattern in the air with her fingers. "There's no telling when the connection to the Planes of Order might decay from these samples!"
Right then, the ground that had been solid beneath our feet not a moment before, disappeared. The dazzling sights of Magic that had surrounded us, were transformed into a landscape of flame and smoke. The invigorating air we had been breathing was replaced by choking, caustic fumes. We had been transported to the Plane of Fire! "Please tell me, you meant to do that," I said, between coughs.
"Didn't I warn you of that? No? Sorry," she said with a wince.
"Damnit, Devianni," she chided herself, "Say the things you're thinking."
"And make sure I'm within earshot, eh?" I added.
She looked at me, her eyes a bit wider than normal, despite the soot in the air. My response must have surprised her. Thankfully, she then smiled. It was an amused, wry curl of her lips, punctuated with an approving nod. I could have sworn I even saw a bit of a dimple!
"Shall I ready more fire sample pouches?" I asked, suddenly feeling a bit exposed, and wanting to focus on something else.
"No need. That's not what we're here for."
Now it was my turn to be surprised!
Devianni then revealed she was intent on making a binding rune from planar material! We set to work immediately, unsure how long we would last in such a lethal environment.
I can only assume Devianni was guided by some sort of summoner's art. She moved across the treacherous landscape as if pulled by instinct. A step this way, to then spin on her heel and turn the opposite direction. I learned quickly to give her space. Suddenly, she stopped. She bent over, gingerly touching the ground with her slender fingers. I felt gooseflesh prickle my skin, and a chill run up my spine, despite our blistering surroundings.
Devianni turned her wrist, and the blackened ground beneath her hand shifted, radiating hairline cracks from the spot she had just touched. She lifted her hand and the clump of ground followed. It hovered between the hole it left behind and her hand, as if she was pulling it up by invisible strings. I was so amazed by what I was witness to, I had nearly forgotten my role! I ran to her side, offering the ensorcelled rune blade.
Devianni made short work of the carving. Her expertise and practiced skills made it look easy! She pocketed the planar fire elemental binding rune, then began to cast another spell. I recognized the motions, but she stopped mid-cast anyway. "I, uh... We can go now. Ready?"
"Absolutely!" I answered, looking over my shoulder.
She continued her casting, and we were soon transported back to the Plane of Magic.
Over the next few days we repeated these steps, entering the Planes of Air, Water, and Earth to create binding runes of each of the planar materials. Some were easier than others, but we did succeed. And now, here I sit back at our home, safe on Norrath, writing these notes, while Devianni practices with her binding runes. She's gotten really good at being able to call forth planar elementals of air and fire, but the water and earth seem to be less responsive. But I'm not worried about it. She'll master each of them, just as she has my heart. Hopefully, I'll have the gumption to tell her how I feel one of these days.
I hope these scrolls find you well, dear sister.
~Topil
Books
Enchanted Lands Creature Catalog This item can be placed on the floor in any house type.
As I catalog various flora and fauna, I can refer to this book.
Enchanted Lands Creature Catalog by Pearl Honeywine
The Enchanted Lands have a high concentration of mana, and therefore they are inhabited by many fey beings.
Before the Rending reshaped the lands, this area was in the midst of the large continent of Antonica, situated at nearly the halfway point between Qeynos and Freeport.
The area was settled primarily by halflings, with the Runnyeye Citadel home to the Runnyeye goblins.
The Enchanted Lands include the Misty Thicket, Rivervale and Runnyeye Citadel, all of which survived the Rending and the Shattering in relatively untouched form.
Rivers still meander lazily through deep green hills across the region. It is surrounded entirely by the Sea of Mist, named for its blanket of nearly impenetrable fog.
Though the coast areas are foggy in the morning, once the sun has risen the fog close to shore dissipates, revealing an area dominated by emerald green.
The temperatures have little variation between day and night. The coolest period during the season is Decay, although the Enchanted Lands do not appear to have a very long Decay cycle.
The mild temperatures and somewhat moist environment give the Enchanted Lands a cloak of thick, velvety grass and tall deciduous trees.
As Decay is so abbreviated in this region, there is no true falling of the leaves. There is always a green canopy overhead, green pathways underfoot and an abundance of fruit and flowers.
The proximity to the nectar of so many flowers is doubtless why the bixies call the Enchanted Lands home. However, since the changing of the lands, there are other creatures in abundance too, including lamias and nightbloods. In some cases, even the trees are potentially animated and dangerous. Caution while traveling is advised, especially after nightfall.
Books
Essay on the Cepholex This item can be placed on the floor in any house type.
This is a mastery tome. Use the knowledge contained within to gain a basic understanding of the tactics to use against the chosen foe.
The gods of Norrath work in mysterious ways, and we mere mortals often reflect on their multiple diverse creations with a sense of bafflement.
Surely we dwarves are the embodiment of the best aspects of Brell, that much is surely clear to any rational being. So why did Brell feel the need to also create the kobolds, ratonga, warboars, and a plethora of other less savory creatures?
In the early ages of Norrath, Prexus the Ocean Lord filled the seas with many strange creations.
The Kedge were once his chosen race, graceful aquatic beings of great mental power and stamina until their race was brought to the edge of extinction by an experiment gone awry. It is said by some that the intelligent, peaceable othmir are his new chosen.
Why then would great Prexus create other beings of such monstrosity? The Aberrant are said to be a creation of the Ocean Lord also, reflecting the unforgiving and harsh aspects of the sea. What aspects of mighty Prexus do the cepholex reflect? His nightmares? Or is Cazic-Thule responsible for these terrors?
Huge and silent, equally at home in air or water, they float with ease through the unsuspecting darkness. Spine-covered, chitin-armored, tentacled and many-toothed, they never stop growing and so far as we can tell they never die of old age.
Dhalgar tell tales of enormous dragon-sized cepholex glimpsed in the darkest recesses of distant caverns. I imagine them in my nightmares. As far as I'm concerned, they can stay very far away from Maldura in the most distant caverns possible, Brell willing!
Books
Evil Eye Musings This item can be placed on the floor in any house type.
This is a mastery tome. Use the knowledge contained within to gain a basic understanding of the tactics to use against the chosen foe.
"Evil Eye Musings," by Trent Burkhart -- Being the remembrances and information gleaned during an undercover observation with the goblins of Runnyeye. Edited (heavily) by Pearl Honeywine.
Some of this data was culled from the rambling notes of former anthropologist Trent Burkhart. Master Burkhart suffered an unfortunate accident at the instigation of the Runnyeye goblins' Evil Eye slaves.
Historical data: Evil Eyes have been known to exist since the most ancient of times.
Grandmothers often admonished their charges to "beware lest the Evil Eye get ye!"
From fanciful tales to reality, the Evil Eyes have gone from master to slave in a relatively short span of time.
Evil Eyes are immense, floating eyes with no visible means of hearing or communication.
They are often found hovering several feet above the ground, trailing membranes and occasionally dripping a sticky substance.
The Eyes are held within a claw-like maw which disgorges the eyeball upon being slain.
Evil Eye communication has always been a fascinating mystery.
At first, it was thought that the membranes were some form of antennae through which the Eyes could speak to others in range.
While it is still possible, more recent observations lean toward the Evil Eyes' use of telepathy rather than any verbal or vibration communication.
As they have no physical extremities, it is obvious that the Evil Eye will use its mental abilities to defend itself and to provide an offensive function.
Evil Eyes are skilled spell casters that can also use mind manipulation on weaker beings. This skill enabled Evil Eyes to dominate the goblins of Runnyeye in Ages past. Currently, however, the tables appear to be turned and the goblins have mastered the Evil Eyes in their area.
The battle tactic of the Evil Eye is obvious and simple.
It summons a physical manifestation to handle direct attacks, while simultaneously striking out with its powerful spell arsenal.
As a highly intelligent being, the Evil Eye will flee a battle it is clearly losing. Due to its lack of physical substance, however, it is possible to chase after it in its weakened state to slay.
As an Evil Eye's knowledge increases, so does its size. The stronger a magic user the Evil Eye is, the larger it will be. This enables opponents to literally "size up" their foe before actually engaging it in combat.
This is not an absolute rule, however, so care must be taken with any undersized Evil Eye.
Better to be safe than sorry.
A word about Evil Eye communication: Because the Evil Eye relies on telepathy, it is possible, although certainly not confirmed, that one could attempt to manipulate an Evil Eye for one's own benefit.
I have not attempted such and know of no one who has. Or, if they have, that have lived to tell the tale.
Therefore, one should consider this as only a fable and should not try this in combat!
In battle, approach the Evil Eye with extreme caution.
It may not be able to hear you approach, making flanking moves a possible strategy. Once it senses your presence, however, it will start a magical barrage that is relentless.
Given their extreme intelligence and magical capability, one wonders how the slovenly, lazy goblins of Runnyeye managed to get the upper hand of the Evil Eyes.
Is it possible that physical presence wins over the ability to control minds and cast potent spells?
I hope this information provides you with enough basic information about Evil Eyes that you will be able to learn more about them on your own.
Be cautious, be aware and be aggressive and you will soon know more about the Evil Eye than your grandmother!
Books
Fauna of the Enchanted Lands A - K This item can be placed on the floor in any house type.
A competent bookbinder is a valuable resource who can restore any book that's had pages removed.
This book appears to be a bestiary guide to the native fauna of the Enchanted Lands.
Badgers: The badgers of the Enchanted Lands are rather similar to those found throughout the rest of Norrath.
Growing as tall as a halfling, the badger is known for its foul mood. Extremely territorial, it is not uncommon for this animal to charge at anyone who approaches it in a threatening manner.
If one is charged by a badger, climb up a tree as fast as possible.
Although quite sharp, their claws are not strong enough to allow them to follow you up the tree.
When the badger has finally given up, make sure you jump down rather than climbing, for it may have rubbed its poisonous fur against the trunk of the tree.
Briarpaw: The briarpaw is a sub-species of the average brown bear found throughout Norrath.
Ranging in size from a cub to a full grown adult, the Briarpaw is a force to be reckoned with just due to its sheer size.
Fortunately, the bear has a habit of hibernating during the winter, allowing for safe travels during that frozen season.
Easily spotted, it is well advised to stay away from these great beasts.
The Briarpaw's diet primarily consists of rotting flesh, but if none can be found, they are not adverse to devouring a living being.
Taking into consideration the size of the claws on the bear, it doesn't take too long for them to take down their prey
Creeper: Truthfully a form of vegetation, the Creeper shares many traits of fauna over flora.
A carnivorous plant, the Creeper will store the bodies of its prey inside the tangle of branches that make up it's "body".
Able to uproot and move at a slow pace, the Creeper is one of the more dangerous animals within the Enchanted Lands.
A Creeper is usually smelled far before it is sighted, due to all of the rotting flesh it stores for the winter.
This can work to one's advantage, however. Epic battles between Briarpaws and Creeper are not an uncommon sight.
It's generally wise to not stick around to see how the battle ends.
Grimmins: Do not confuse the grimmins for the average goblin.
Though they share similar traits, they are worlds apart. Whereas the goblin is a cunning creature, the grimmin appears to have replaced that with pure viciousness.
Do not be caught unawares by these creatures, for no matter how cute they may appear to be, for this is how they lure their prey.
Always be sure to keep your distance from these creatures. If one spots you, it may begin to approach you with a curious look.
It is highly advised that you run at this point, for if it gets too close, it will attempt to leap at your head.
Opening it's maw as wide as possible, the grimmin then proceeds to gnaw at your face until you quit struggling.
Klakroks: One of the larger species of beetle in Norrath, the Klakrok gather in large numbers.
Through some unknown means of communication, the Klakrok appear to assume various roles and functions in their society.
Although many of them are nothing more than simple drones, there are some that act as a type of enforcer among their collective.
Though no one has ever seen a Queen Klakrok, it is assumed they have one which may be source of all their directions.
This is evidenced by the peculiar means in which the Klakroks will overcome a victim many times their size.
Gathering together, they begin to pile on top of each other until they are taller than their victim. By some unheard signal, they fall over all at once, toppling the opponent.
They then proceed to stomp all over the victim until the victim is nothing more than a puddle of red goo.
Books
Fauna of the Enchanted Lands L - Z This item can be placed on the floor in any house type.
A competent bookbinder is a valuable resource who can restore any book that's had pages removed.
This book appears to be some type of a bestiary guide to the native fauna of the Enchanted Lands.
Lasher: The native lasher of the Enchanted Lands is a rather dangerous creature that is best avoided.
Possessing a nasty disposition, it does not take much to cause it to act. Unlike a typical rodent, the lasher will not run if approached, but rather it will engage its attacker at once with a violent fury.
Though it is a natural assumption to keep away from its scorpion-like tail, this is not where the true threat lies.
The lasher will try to bite its victim, hoping to infect it with its disease-ridden teeth.
Keeping rotting meat in between the gums and teeth, the lasher's mouth is more poisonous than its tail could ever be.
Salt Snappers: The Salt Snapper is a rather unassuming creature, looking like nothing more than a turtle.
Walking with a slow gait, it is easy to assume that it is an easy choice for that day's meal.
It doesn't take long before a lazy predator soon comes across the turtle's hidden defenses.
Rather than hide within its shell as most other turtles would, the Salt Snapper lash out with its venomous fangs.
Containing a very deadly poison within its teeth, it will attempt to render it's victim incapacitated before feasting on its food of choice - a still-beating heart.
Seed of Darkness: Not much is known about this odd creature.
Floating in the air, yet not possessing any noticeable wings, the Seed of Darkness travels the Enchanted Lands unmolested.
Its diet is as much a mystery as it's species, as well. It seems to feed on animals of all types through some means of osmosis.
Emitting an oddly colored light that is reminiscent of the color of dried blood, the seed of darkness will coat its victim in that luminescence.
A few moments later, the "food" will then drop to the ground, looking emaciated and possibly even older than a few moments before.
Whatever it is that the Seed feeds off of, it is never enough, for it is always in search of more sustenance.
Void Bats: A variant of the average bat, the Void Shrillers and Shriekers get their name from the loud, ear-splitting howl they emit in order to stun their victims.
Not necessarily heard with the ears, it is regularly argued that the sound is heard within a person's head.
The sound of its wail is usually followed by a flock descending upon their chosen victims.
Being knocked unconscious is only the beginning, however.
It is reported that the wailing will build in crescendo until it reaches dangerous levels.
The magnitude of the sound is enough to cause the victims' head to explode, allowing the shriekers and shrillers to feed without any disturbance.
Wasps: As is seen elsewhere in the world, the Lancer wasps grow to an alarming size.
Though it is good advice to stay away from wasps of any size, it is especially important to stay away from the ones that roam the Enchanted Lands.
It's not a rare sight to see corpses of animals with large stingers jutting from their bodies.
Were it not enough that the Lancer variety of wasp is notorious for it's suicidal attacks on people, the Impaler wasp is even more vicious.
When attacking, it seems to know where to strike, aiming straight for a major blood vessel on a body. The stinger will then elongate, following the vein straight into the heart.
It doesn't take longer than two or three seconds for the victim to at that point fall over dead.
Books
Feerrott Creature Catalog This item can be placed on the floor in any house type.
As I catalog various flora and fauna, I can refer to this book.
The Feerrott is a dark and dangerous jungle with an equally dark and dangerous past.
Through the Ages, the Feerrott has been the home to tribes of Lizardmen, ogres and other minions of Cazic-Thule.
The ancient Temple of Cazic-Thule can still be found here, as well as the ruins of other lesser buildings.
The Feerrott was originally a part of the the continent of Antonica, below Lake Rathetear and the Rathe Mountains. Now, it is a separate island to the southeast of the Thundering Steppes of Karan and is surrounded by the Blackwater. The major landmark is Mount Thule, the island's highest point.
This is a jungle, no question about it. Moisture from the surrounding waters gathers upon Mount Thule, sending rivulets down its flanks to create several streams and rivers.
The heat trapped by the trees is damp and sticky. Bring a change of clothes and plenty of fresh water, for though the Feerrott has plentiful water resources, they are generally not safe to use.
The high humidity of the region shows in the density of the vegetation.
Tall evergreen trees send down roots from high above. Vines sprout seemingly overnight, which can confuse the trails and paths.
Many forms of carnivorous plants thrive in the warm, thick air. Their presence fills the undergrowth with the smell of decay.
Travelers to the Feerrott must be on constant guard, for the thick foliage provides excellent cover for many indigenous species. Snakes and spiders grow to immense size as there are no concentrations of large mammalian predators. The Lizardmen still roam the area as well, keeping to their primitive ways of hunting and eating the flesh of the unwary.
Books
Fire and Ice Creature Catalog This item can be placed on the floor in any house type.
As I catalog various flora and fauna, I can refer to this book.
The fire: Lavastorm. The ice: Everfrost. Both of these areas have for Ages stood for places of hardship, determination and the will to survive.
Modern Norrath has only recently regained access to both of these regions and we are still learning what new experiences they hold for us. One thing hasn't changed: they can be deadly.
Lavastorm lies to the northeast of the Enchanted Lands, in the same approximate position it held before the Rending. The sea surrounding it is known as the Cauldron.
To the far north of Norrath stands Everfrost within the Fanged Sea. As they are opposites in temperature, it is fitting that they exist on opposite sides of Norrath.
To say Lavastorm is hot and dry is to say the seas are wet. Pumice ash clouds waft over the island, cloaking the slopes of Mount Solusek.
At the other extreme is Everfrost, a frozen wasteland of jagged icy peaks, glaciers and blizzards.
Where Lavastorm swirls with choking ash, Everfrost is swept by needles of ice. They are both inhospitable regions.
Many would think that no flora could survive in either location. And yet, bold crusts of lichens take root where they can.
Gnarled pines, twisted and misshapen by the winds still live, albeit in stunted form. The lands lie ravaged, and yet the struggle of life continues to give us hope that we too can survive despite the conditions.
The predators of Lavastorm are as shadowed as the lands. Golems of stone and fire trundle through the jagged by-ways and other as-yet-undiscovered creatures grumble in the deeps.
Where icy winds are blocked by upthrust glacial formations, Everfrost provides limited shelter to the sheep, wolves and constructs that are its denizens.
Books
First Flight This item can be placed on the floor in any house type.
This is a mastery tome. Use the knowledge contained within to gain a basic understanding of the tactics to use against the chosen foe.
"First Flight" -- an aviak tale of their beginnings and the first flight after their fall from grace
The beasts that walked the lands on two legs or four displeased her -- they were so ungainly.
So Xegony, Queen of Air, created a beautiful, winged race that flew across Norrath, selecting the choicest locations to be their homes.
They built their aeries and nests and preened, for they were her chosen.
And yet, over time, these chosen began to speak amongst themselves of their gift from the goddess of air as a clear sign of superiority.
Whispering from beak to beak, they said, "Truly are we blessed with wings, so that we are unlike the wretches who must walk wherever they go."
And they looked down upon the other races of Norrath, both literally and figuratively.
In the long ago, Xegony listened to her aviaks (for so the other races named them) and their pride gave her little concern, for she was likewise proud of them.
They sent emissaries to her with news of the lands and gave her lavish gifts and tributes.
In her pleasure at their worship, she did not recognize the point at which their relationship changed.
For though tributes and gifts still came to her, Xegony did not know all that was in the minds and hearts of her creations.
And when the first army of the Rallosians began their march, the aviaks held their own counsel and did not send word to her. Xegony learned nothing of this until the Rathe Council was challenged directly.
Then, the knowledge that the aviaks knew what might happen and did not warn her filled Xegony with rage.
"You behaved no better than those who cannot fly." she said to them wrathfully. "Therefore, you shall lose my gift as your curse. Many tragedies could have been avoided if you did not disdain even me, your creator!"
And so saying, Xegony summoned a fierce wind that shredded the wings of the aviaks, making them as flightless and wingless as any other two-legged beast.
The aviaks were still prideful, but now felt ashamed at having set themselves above the Queen of Air.
In the ages that followed, the aviaks worked hard to regain her grace and gift, but she ignored them.
And eventually, with the rest of the gods, Xegony withdrew into a silence that nothing could penetrate.
The aviaks knew not whether she lived and cursed them still, or had completely rejected them.
The silence would have been much more devastating had not a miracle occurred.
For from the clutch of eggs of a family near Lake Rathetear, a winged aviak hatched. Still flightless, the young male could not correctly manipulate the wings on his own and so he was not the first aviak to return to the skies.
His birth coincided with the first changes to the ogres as their clouded minds began to return to normalcy.
In one generation from the first winged hatchling, dozens of winged aviaks began to train themselves in their ancient art of flight.
Though clumsy, squadrons of winged aviaks practiced together on the shores of Lake Rathetear, often climbing the mountains and leaping off, gliding to landings in the water below.
They grew in strength, agility and number.
As the Second Rallosian Army began its march across Norrath, seeking to subjugate all others, the aviaks knew that the time would come when their homes and lives would be at risk.
Ironically, having lost the ability to fly by not revealing the existence of the First Rallosian Army to their deity, the Second Rallosian Army gave impetus to the aviaks' need for flight.
And so it happened. For with the Rallosians within reach of Lake Rathetear, a female aviak launched herself from the top of a mountain and soared toward the water.
She concentrated on the muscles of her neck, shoulders and wings and felt them move to her command.
No longer merely soaring from the heights, she had re-mastered the art of flight!
In honor of their creator, the first aviak to re-gain the gift of flight named herself Daughter of Xegony.
She taught all winged aviaks how to control the muscles necessary to remain airborne. Through her teachings, the aviaks provided assistance from the air at the Battle of Lake Rathetear.
And though this Battle was lost, the survival of the aviaks' legacy of flight was assured.
Books
Flesh Bound Tome This item can be placed on the floor in any house type.
The tome seems to be fashioned from some sort of leathery material. It has been formed with fine craftsmanship to appear like the stretched skin of a dark elf's face, eyes and mouth sewn shut with sinewy threads. A thin, but durable chain is stretched around the tome and fastens with an ornate lock. I can place this book in my house.
I have arrived in Nektulos Forest in search of my past. The House of Everling held a great manor within this vast timberland. Now that Neriak has fallen I can safely explore this land. There are no more dark elves to keep me from my rightful riches. No more shall the name Everling be separated from its grandeur. I shall begin my trek to reclaim lost fortune by searching for Timber Falls. It must surely be at the front of the Torrent River, a fitting place to build a path to a grand castle.
Journal Entry, Burnday:
I have made my way to Timber Falls only to find a glade of natural grandeur. Although it is a beautiful sight to behold, it is not the location of Everling riches. This natural beauty does not make up for the dangers faced approaching here. I will seek another sight I have heard of in this land. They say that there is a titanic ramp that rises to meet a higher plateau. I will find this ramp and climb it. From the vantage point of such a structure I may be able to spy the towers of an Everling estate.
Journal Entry, Windday:
Curse this land of haze! I have climbed the mighty ruin and gazed down upon the lowlands only to see the haze of ash that blankets the land. It is worse yet upon this plateau. I can barely take a breath without choking. I shall return to the lowlands and seek out a place more befitting of my lineage. I will seek out a lake the dark elves called Bone Lake. It should rest northeast of here. It is supposed to be the largest lake of the forest. Perhaps there are traces of my ancestors around such a lake.
Journal Entry, Steelday:
I have traveled the banks of this lake for naught. I made camp here along the north bank only to be awakened in a cold sweat and memories of a haunting vision. In my feverish nightmare I was confronted in the darkness by two gargoyles with eyes aflame. A door was placed between these titans. They stood silent and with a sudden snap they lashed out at me...all went black. That is when I awoke. What does this mean? Perhaps the mushrooms I added to my stew were not as agreeable as I had hoped. Perhaps I now seek the door between the gargoyles. Could this be Nektropos Castle?
Simply amazing! I have entered the courtyard of Castle Nektropos. The grandeur of this castle is formed of twisted walls and crooked towers. What form of mad mind could have engineered this place? It chills me to the bone to gaze upon this sorrowful manor, but the promise of lost riches deep within its halls beckons me forward. I am an Everling and this is my claim. I spy what appears to be a smithy's workshop ahead. I shall see what, if any, wonders lie within.
I have made my way into the blacksmith's forge. Although I believed this castle abandoned, the sooty room was illuminated by the embers of the forge. Someone has been working here, and recently. I would guess orcs, but there is no hint of their foul stench. Thanks to the ring that was passed down to me, The Circlet of Rikantus, I can press on without the need of a torch. The ring gives me the eyes of the Teir'Dal. I shall be able to move silently and with sword in hand. I feel a presence call to me. It pulls me towards the dark hallways to the southeast.
I happened upon my first myth made real. While wandering the dark halls, I saw a ghostly figure glide past me. I gave chase and followed the spectral figure into a chapel. As my eyes adjusted to the dim light, I realized... this is the Chapel of Ullkorruuk! I recall hearing tales of this chapel from a dark elf I met in a back alley of Freeport. Never did I expect to find the mythical chapel of treason in the ruins of my ancestors. The dark elf mentioned a concealed vault here he was unable to open. And to think, I took him for being Rathe-brained.
Before he passed out, the drunkard mumbled something about battling the traitorous forces within the chapel and releasing its secret unto him. There seems to be signs of a villainous sect inhabiting this place, but how can I, a single adventurer, overcome such overwhelming odds? Furthermore, where did that ghostly figure vanish to? Perhaps it was just a pale servant. I shall seek the servant's quarters out as soon as I decide of whether or not to do battle in this sanctum of betrayal.
I have found what was once a servant's personal quarters. It appears to have been changed into an oubliette through great arcane power. Shifted walls have swallowed up the doorway that led into this chamber. The only way in was through a breached wall in the adjacent quarters. Whoever was imprisoned in this chamber was never meant to escape. Unfortunately, there seems to be no sign of the servant's remains. Which leads me to believe he has escaped. I find myself praying to silent gods. I pray that this dangerous servant be far from Nektropos Castle.
I spent a restless night within what was once the bunkhouse for Everling Crusaders, the elite guard for my ancestors. I set a spike to hold the door closed and huddled next to a fire I had started within the maw of a fireplace that has not been used in decades. I heard horrid sounds all through the night, including the clanking of billiard balls, but was far too frightened to investigate in the pitch darkness. Now I am off to see what lies nearby.
I found the game room. This hall was intended to relieve the stress of the knights. Ah yes...Knight to C3. The thought of ancient Everling tactics eases my unsettled mind. The equipment seems to be as cursed as everything else in this place: the pieces are frozen in mid play! Although I thought I heard a game of billiards from this hall last night, it is quite apparent that no man has gamed here in ages. Perhaps the sound came from above.
I found the great banquet room that was reserved for the Everling family. As I approached, I heard the din a large gathering within, and even detected the scent of roast boar! I swung open the doors to find nothing but empty chairs at empty tables. The only sign of boar was that the fireplace of the hall was crowned with a hideous mounted boar's head. It almost seemed as though the thing was alive. I felt it staring at me when I left the room.
I discovered a wealth of information in the library. The Everlings documented their passion for evil artifacts and dark magic in fine detail. I find this odd: such interests are more common for dark elf than a human. Rikantus' eternal research of the occult must have had something to do with the demise of this place and the Everling name. I have also discovered books similar to this journal of mine. It is most certainly a claim to my heritage. The books for the family are bound with a patchwork flesh-like material... at least members of the Everlings that last dwelt here.
When I entered the cold, dusty chamber of the bedroom, I began to feel a great comfort and strange love for the place. I don't remember what happened next, but I awoke feeling as though weeks had passed. The room was disturbed as if I had been living within it, sheets crumpled, my footprints scuffing the dusty floors. I must leave this place at once, though, the little doll upon the bed is hypnotic... the way it stares at me. I could wear, I hear it whispering the name 'Drusis.'
I've discovered a room that shows signs of having been inhabited, though I can't fathom what manner of person would want to live here. Books on the shelves appear to have been moved recently and a number of them are recently published editions. The symbols upon the walls are strangely familiar. I have seen them elsewhere, perhaps while on some other adventure. I will hole up here for a spell. Perhaps I'll read a book or two before I decide how best to renovate my reclaimed estate.
The door leading to these quarters has slammed shut, and I cannot open it! There is only one way to go, and that's forward. I shudder at the thought of what may lie ahead, but I have no choice but to continue. I pray that my lineage spares me from whatever horrors I may encounter within these halls. I should have disregarded the clues that revealed the existence of this castle. The more I learn of this place, the more I realize that it is a part of my past I do not wish to claim. Why did I take this wretched tome from that evil hag? - Maltus Everling
After finding my way into the cellars, I have found Rikantus' concealed codex. Perhaps following the words within this flesh bound tome will gain me some reward after all. I will have to thank Theeral the nomad with a few gold earned from the heavy coin I am sure to earn from selling any valuables I loot here. Perhaps I will make enough to erect my own castle to rival this one. ...Castle...has a nice ring to it.
Welcome to the master.
The master welcomes you and any friends with open arms and open doors. We have waited so long for you. Your fate awaits you beyond this door. We have prepared the laboratory for your arrival. Do come in.
Books
Foreman Garz'gog Dyeree This item can be placed on the floor in any house type.
A competent bookbinder is a valuable resource who can restore any book that's had pages removed.
This book is the journal kept by an orc by the name of Garz'gog, and chronicles the time he spent constructing a great bridge within the land known as Zek.
Day 1 - Me the biggest foreman on making the big bridge. Me tell every other orc what to do.
If they don't, I throw them into the water and kick them in the head if they try to get out.
Day 3 - Me send out party to find some stupid droods. They think they hiding, but I know where they is. Me needs to have a droods blood mixed into the mortar for the foundation of the bridge, or it might fall down. Come on! Everyone knows that!
Day 5 -
Have to send centurions out to get the droods now, cause they putting up a good fight. This no make me happy, because the centurions gonna kill all of them.
When they all gone, now I have to use orc blood in the mortar. Me then start running out of workers! AARG!
Day 20 -
Bridge is coming along pretty good. I kicked five orcs in the head today for not making the bridge long enough.
I tell other orcs that the bridge needs to reach the other side for it to work right.
Day 25 -
Emperor Fist came to see the bridge today. He say make it even bigger!
That makes me happy! I like making big bridges, but I really like making even bigger bridges.
The Emperor say he will come back later and see if it is big enough.
Day 29 -
Had to kick more workers in the head for not doing the job right. Throwing in the water and kicking in the head is only reserved for biggest punishment.
Me go outta way to find reasons to give it.
Day 40 - The Emperor liked how big I made it. He say it might be too big, but then I show him all the tricks I put on it. That's when he made a big smile and patted me on the back in front of all the other orcs! Now everyone know how important I am!
Day 50 -
Bridge just about done. Haven't had to kick people in head lately, because they know how important I am.
Sending messenger to tell Emperor that bridge is just like he wanted, and to show all the other tricks I put on the bridge.
Day 55 -
Emperor Fist say he wants demonstration of how good bridge is. Me getting all the archers together to hide them in the small boxes for the demonstration.
Me also getting the oil boiled up to show off how that works, too. The Emperor will think it's the greatest thing ever!
Day 60 -
Emperor has put me in the prison for making bridge too good. The demonstration wiped out 200 centurions and 60 elite guard in five minutes!
Me am very happy, because me thought it would take seven minutes!
Books
Freeport Sewers Creature Catalog This item can be placed on the floor in any house type.
As I catalog various flora and fauna, I can refer to this book.
NO-TRADE
Offers the Quest 'Freeport Sewers Creature Cataloging'
Freeport Sewers Creature Catalog by Pearl Honeywine
The sewers beneath the streets of Freeport have long been a shadowed pathway for shadowy activities.
Despite the ravages of time, war and the sea, all levels of the Freeport sewer system are still functional. In many areas, gnomish mechanical devices pump materials through the levels, finally pushing them out the last drains to the sea.
There are three major sections of the Freeport sewer system.
Thieves' Way connects outlying districts to the city's heart through a series of narrow passages. The Serpent's Sewer is a twisting maze of tunnels that channel debris and effluent from above to the Edgewater Drains. The Drains are closest to the sea into which the sewers drain and so are mostly underwater.
As with most underground areas, the Freeport sewers make up in smell what they lack in change.
Although the lowest tunnels are constantly washed by incoming tides, they are also the repository for much solid waste material. This gives the sewers a noxious odor that lingers on one's clothing for many days after passing through the area.
The plants found in the Freeport sewer system are limited to lichens and mosses as there is generally not enough light for other types of flora.
Occasionally, one may find creeping insect bane flourishing near grates, where small insects are known to congregate in shafts of light. These plants have become rarer since the Shattering, although it is not known if there is any connection.
Despite the smell, the sewers teem with life -- or forms of it. Rats, bats, snakes and toads are plentiful throughout.
Additionally, one will encounter animated coagulated gelatins and in certain sections, skeletons.
The sewers are still used as pathways for those who wish to remain unnoticed, so those attempting a short cut will need to keep an eye to the shadows at all times.
Books
Freeport Sewers Creature Catalog This item can be placed on the floor in any house type.
As I catalog various flora and fauna, I can refer to this book.
Freeport Sewers Creature Catalog by Pearl Honeywine
The sewers beneath the streets of Freeport have long been a shadowed pathway for shadowy activities.
Despite the ravages of time, war and the sea, all levels of the Freeport sewer system are still functional. In many areas, gnomish mechanical devices pump materials through the levels, finally pushing them out the last drains to the sea.
There are three major sections of the Freeport sewer system.
Thieves' Way connects outlying districts to the city's heart through a series of narrow passages. The Serpent's Sewer is a twisting maze of tunnels that channel debris and effluent from above to the Edgewater Drains. The Drains are closest to the sea into which the sewers drain and so are mostly underwater.
As with most underground areas, the Freeport sewers make up in smell what they lack in change.
Although the lowest tunnels are constantly washed by incoming tides, they are also the repository for much solid waste material. This gives the sewers a noxious odor that lingers on one's clothing for many days after passing through the area.
The plants found in the Freeport sewer system are limited to lichens and mosses as there is generally not enough light for other types of flora.
Occasionally, one may find creeping insect bane flourishing near grates, where small insects are known to congregate in shafts of light. These plants have become rarer since the Shattering, although it is not known if there is any connection.
Despite the smell, the sewers teem with life -- or forms of it. Rats, bats, snakes and toads are plentiful throughout.
Additionally, one will encounter animated coagulated gelatins and in certain sections, skeletons.
The sewers are still used as pathways for those who wish to remain unnoticed, so those attempting a short cut will need to keep an eye to the shadows at all times.
Books
From the Trial of Kane Bayle This item can be placed on the floor in any house type.
This completed book can be placed in your house and read.
The questions of the inquisitors are not given in the transcript, however it is possible to follow the course of the trial through these witnesses' eyes. There is nothing like eyewitness testimony to bring history to life.
I am Marghetta Landon, a member of the Qeynos City Guard. I served as Captain Bayle's Chief of Intelligence before and during the War of Plagues. Before the War, my office was directly across from his and I updated him directly when circumstances required. As the War became inevitable, however, Captain Bayle moved my office somewhat further down the corridor. That does not mean that he did not have access to me or to the information gathered by our scouts immediately upon request. He just...stopped asking for it. I couldn't...he didn't want to know.
Captain Bayle and I trained together in our youth, but obviously his station in life allowed him greater -- what's that? Oh! My apologies! I am Jenner Wenbie, of the Qeynos City Guard. My family has a long tradition of service to the city. And I tell you -- all of you! -- Captain Bayle is no traitor! Someone, obviously a Bloodsaber spy, is trying to bring down and sully the name of one of the greatest leaders the Guard has ever known! No, I will not sit down! Someone is trying to murder my Captain, my friend! Get your hands off me!
I am Milea Clothspinner, a lieutenant in the Qeynos' City Guard. Captain Bayle and I...were friends. He...and Lord Bayle...were very kind to my family and have been for many years. When rumors first began that Captain Bayle was toying with the worship of Bertoxxulous, I did not believe them. And yet, I noticed subtle changes in Kane...that is, Captain Bayle's behavior. He would disappear for hours and not tell me where he had gone. At first, I thought...it was another woman...
...this is very difficult for me. One night, I followed him and discovered that my rival was not only another woman, but a member of the Bloodsabers! I could not hear their conversation, but later I was able to capture this woman and have her questioned. It was her information that led me to realize the extent of Kane's...Captain Bayle's betrayal. Due to his position, not only as Captain of the Guard but as a member of the Bayle family, it was difficult to convince our superiors of his crimes. I was accused of...
...letting my...my feeling for Captain Bayle interfere with my judgment, that I had become enraged upon discovering his liaison with another. My closeness with Captain Bayle I will not deny, but my love for the city of Qeynos is stronger. And then it was confirmed independently, that Captain Bayle ignored a request for reinforcements to the left flank and instead assigned the troops which could have been sent to assist to a detail cleaning the Bayle family crypts! Review the orders issued under his command and the pattern is quite clear...
...when additional troops were requested, sometimes very urgently, Captain Bayle found reason to assign them trivial tasks elsewhere. I implore this court to find Captain -- no, I will not call him that, for that is a position of honor and leadership -- Kane Bayle guilty of treason, for plotting with the Bloodsabers against the city of Qeynos. By his subtle techniques, he allowed the Bloodsabers to infiltrate and occupy the catacombs in preparation for an assault on the weakened Guard forces. He is guilty of violating our most sacred vows, and made "Might for Right" into "Might for Wrong."
My name is Eizek Elron and I am a member of the Qeynos City Guard. I reported to Captain Vegalys Keldrane, who in turn reported to Captain Bayle. During the War, our unit was assigned to patrol the catacombs to prevent the undead from rising beneath the city and taking us unawares. This assignment clearly shows that Captain Bayle was trying to protect us at all costs. Uh...could you repeat the question? Oh, yes, I remember. Our scouts reported an increased undead activity...
...beneath the city, and Captain Keldrane devised a plan to stop them. There's some tunnels down there that you can use to cut off your enemy's escape routes. Our plan was to use these routes to our advantage. Captain Bayle approved of the plan -- so you can't say he was trying to hurt the city! We were not successful, though. Most of the unit, including all the officers, were outflanked by the same maneuver we had planned to use. When we got to the tunnels, they were already full of the Bloodsabers. But you can't blame that on Captain Bayle!
I am Linnet Bayle, the mother of Kane Bayle. I beg this court to spare my son's life! You cannot know the truth, not with so many of our youth slain and unburied on the battlefield. How can you use the testimony of a handful of simpletons to condemn the Captain of the Guard to death? Was his judgment flawed? Perhaps. You cannot say that all your own actions are without fault, when reviewed after the need for quick decisions is past. Do not let your desire for vengeance...
...cause you to place the blame and hurt of all our losses on the shoulders of a few. You say he secretly planned with the Bloodsabers, our enemies, yet can offer no clear evidence beyond the word of a jilted lover. Do not send my son to the executioner's block for a failed romance! I beseech you, remember all that he has done for Qeynos and let the family of Kane Bayle decide his fate, not an impersonal court of law. Please. Oh, please!
Books
Good Eatin' This item can be placed on the floor in any house type.
A competent bookbinder is a valuable resource who can restore any book that's had pages removed.
This is a cookbook written by Halasian homemaker in which she details some of the local ethnic food of her homeland.
I've put this book together so other people out there can enjoy my fine cooking.
My husband always tells me there's nothing finer than a plate of my heddice. Sometimes I have to give him a good whallop upside the head as a gentle reminder to tell me, but that's because he's so busy gobbling down what I've made for him.
These recipes are usually what I make for my husband and the wee ones every dinner.
Black Pudding: I always start dinner with a tasty black pudding.
In order to make this meal, you'll first need to go out there and find yourself a black ooze. Slimy little things, they cook up just fine with a couple of spices.
When you're done whacking it with your mace, you'll need to bring it back to kitchen for the cleaning.
Its very important that you clean the ooze really well before you start the cleaning.
There are a bunch of little balls inside the jelly things that you gotta cut out. If you miss even one of them, you'll wind up making the pudding really bitter.
Take my word for it - getting the kiddies to ear it when it's not prepared right is like pulling teeth from a mammoth.
Once you have the ooze cleaned just right, put it in a bowl and start smooshing it with your fists.
Once it's nothing more than jelly, add in a couple fistfuls of flour and start mixing. Add in some crushed ice peppers (the sweet kind, mind you) and then put it in the oven for about an hour.
When it's done, you'll have a nice brandy treat that everyone will praise you for.
Butterscotch: You can't have a good pudding without having something to wash it down with.
Always make sure to offer the people eating your food a good libation. My specialty is a tasty butterscotch.
Take a pound of butter and melt it in a large stein. Pour in some scotch until the container has been filled and give it a good shake or two.
If you're serving to wee kiddies, just leave the scotch out.
Heddice: There's only one meal that should ever be served at dinner, and that's a hearty heddice.
Now, I know everyone's got their own opinion on how it should be prepared, but once you try my recipe you'll never prepare it any other way.
To start, you need to go out there and whack a polar bear. Make sure you get all meat and the head too. That's the most important part.
Now get yourself some oatmeal and a seal's heart (look for one about as big as your hand). Crush them together, adding in chopped onion for extra flavor. Once you've made a big 'ole mush out of it, set it to the side. Now take a couple of wolf livers and marinade them in chicken stock. If you can handle even more flavor, mix in some ice peppers (not the sweet kind... that's just disgusting).
Finally, get some chicken fat and melt it over a fire. At the same time, start digging out all of the gunk inside the polar bear's head.
When it's all clean inside, put the livers and the oatmeal mush and shove it inside. Pour the chicken fat over the mixture, then sew up the neck.
Boil the head in a pot of water for about ten hours, and you're done! Once your family starts digging into that head lettuce, they'll tell you they've never had a better heddice in their life!
Halas 10-lb Meat Pie: When the winter get the coldest, you may want to add another plate to your meal.
You can't go wrong with a ten-pounder, I always say. An easy dish to prepare, you'll need to gather a couple of ingredients first.
First you gotta whip up a good, thick cream. I prefer to use polar bear milk, but use whatever you can find.
You'll need a haunch of wolf, a brisket of bear (try brown bear for an exotic taste), a rack of mammoth and some imported lion hamburger.
Soak all of these in that cream for about a day, then throw 'em in a pie tin and bake it for about six hours! Tada! One of the best desserts you an serve your family.
The only difficulty to preparing this recipe is finding a pie tin big enough to hold all ten pounds of the meat (I've only been able to find ones that hold seven pounds).
Books
Halls of the Dead Creature Catalog This item can be placed on the floor in any house type.
As I catalog various flora and fauna, I can refer to this book.
Halls of the Dead Creature Catalog by Pearl Honeywine
While stories have said that "dead ones tell no tales," these stories are not about Stormhold or Fallen Gate. The dead of these regions are still anxious to tell their tales, as they walked the world during some of its most turbulent and violent periods.
Stormhold was the base for the ancient order called Knights of Thunder, while the First Gate was an entrance to Neriak, home of the Teir'Dal.
Stormhold's location was unknown for many seasons but is now known to be located in the foothills of eastern Antonica on Karan. On D'Lere, Fallen Gate can be reached somehow through the Commonlands.
As is usual with ancient bastions, the exact locations are generally known yet never committed to writing lest the writer find himself victim of an unfortunate accident.
Both Fallen Gate and Stormhold are primarily below ground. Carved from the stones surrounding them, the weight of the world above provides great insulation against any temperature fluctuations above.
They are generally cool, but not uncomfortably so. It is wise however to bring a cloak or other wrap to keep out the chill.
As sunshine and warmth do not penetrate into these caverns, the primary flora of Stormhold and First Gate are varieties of fungi and lichens.
One exception in First Gate is the extremely rare cavern feeder. It is pale and faintly luminescent, growing beside underground pools. It is a carnivorous plant that dips into the water to strain discarded entrails and small fry.
It is said scenes of sudden assault are haunted by those who took part in the battles.
First Gate and Stormhold prove this to be true. Ghosts and apparitions of ancient warriors and mages continue to haunt their former assignments, looking at all who enter as enemies.
Being underground regions, they are each infested with various bugs, snakes and leeches as well.
Books
How to Serve Mortals - Flowing Thoughts This item can be placed on the floor in any house type.
This completed book can be placed in your house and read.
This book is titled "How to Serve Mortals - Flowing Thoughts." It's a collection of riddles the Amygdalans ask their victims before consuming their souls.
One cannot truly appreciate the taste of a mortal until they have amyg oozing from the holes in their skin. Since these furred worms come in as many flavors as the color of their pelts, it can be too easy to not appreciate the full succulence of their minds. Make sure to insinuate the chance of escape when presenting these words to them. Their apprehension marinades their amyg to the point of brain-watering piquance. The following enigmas should be presented to the ones that have big thoughts.
Instructions: Present the question to the furred worm and tell them they have nine tentacle clicks to answer. At five clicks, ask the question and do not allow them to argue for more time. You should notice the taste will begin to sharpen at that point. Question - I clothe myself all in black and hide in the corner of the room. All of the braziers have been snuffed out, and you carry no torches of your own, yet you still see me. How is this possible?
Answer - It is daytime. Question - A'natylan's mother has three children. One is named G'ylzanar. Another is named My'aazcriz. What is the other's name?
Answer - A'natylan. Question - Who makes it, has no need of it. Who buys it, has no use for it. Who uses it can neither see nor feel it. What am I?
Answer - A Coffin. Question - Two words. My answer is only two words. To keep me, you must give me. What am I?
Answer - Your Word. Question - I am always hungry. I must always be fed. The finger I lick. Will soon turn red. What am I?
Answer - Fire. Question - Each morning I appear to lie at your feet. All day I will follow no matter how fast you run. Yet I nearly perish in the midday sun. What am I?
Answer - Your Shadow. Question - You heard me before, yet you hear me again. Then I die, until you call me again. What am I?
Answer - Your Echo. Question - What do mortals love more than life, and fear more than death or mortal strife? What do the poor have, the rich require, and what contented men desire? And what does the miser spend and the spendthrift save? And what do all mortals carry to their graves?
Answer - Nothing. If you find your meal answers these enigmas rather easily, just tell them they are wrong. Proceed to make motions that you are about to bring cessation to them, then give them another chance. Repeat as many times as necessary until you find the flavor of their fear just right.
Books
How to Serve Mortals - Slow Thoughts This item can be placed on the floor in any house type.
This completed book can be placed in your house and read.
This book is titled "How to Serve Mortals - Slow Thoughts." It's a collection of riddles the Amygdalans ask their victims before consuming their souls.
One cannot truly appreciate the taste of a mortal until they have amyg oozing from the holes in their skin. Since these furred worms come in as many flavors as the color of their pelts, it can be too easy to not appreciate the full succulence of their minds. Make sure to insinuate the chance of escape when presenting these words to them. Their apprehension marinades their amyg to the point of brain-watering piquance. The following enigmas should be presented to the ones that have small thoughts.
Instructions: Present the question to the furred worm and tell them they have nine tentacle clicks to answer. Begin to consume their amyg, and whatever other portion of their husk that amuses you. Question - What always ends everything?
Answer: The letter G. Question. What room has no doors, no windows, no walls, and no roof?
Answer: A mushroom. Question: What question can you never answer yes to?
Answer: Are you asleep?. Question: A lizardman has nine toads, and all but seven died. How many did he have left?
Answer: Seven. Question. What can you hold without ever touching or using your hands?
Answer: Your breath. Question: What can be destroyed by speaking a single word?
Answer: SilenceQuestion: I dance, yet I have no legs. I breathe, yet I have no lungs. I have no life, yet I live and die. What am I?
Answer: A flame. Question. I have holes on the top, bottom, and sides. With all my holes, I still hold water for a short time. What am I?
Answer: A sponge. If the furred worms have answered any of the questions correctly, do not give them time to feel relief. This will spoil the flavor of their amyg, and that would be such a sad waste.
Books
Hrath's Journal This item can be placed on the floor in any house type.
This book was given to me by Kerath McMarrin in Thundering Steppes. I can place this book in my house.
Furniture version of:
Hrath's Journal LORE NO-TRADE NO-VALUE
Discovered on 9 Dec 2009 at 8:57:35 PST.
86. BT, Deepice, Darkday
I, Hrath T'vol, have decided to keep this journal to chronicle my great deeds. One day, when all is said and done, this will probably fetch a pretty penny when I sell it to some scholar eager to have the truth of my life's story!
87. BT, Deepice, Steelday
Today I finally got the best of that blasted barbarian, Hadden, and took his earring! He never saw me coming! I teleported in behind him and burned him to a crisp. So much for that famed northern constitution.
87. BT, Deepice, Moorday
I've been spending a lot more time in the Qeynos area. The hunting is good here. All sorts of guards in the area are willing to die to save their beloved Qeynos. Ironically enough, the same merchants they're protecting actually buy the guards' weapons and equipment back! I've been holed up in this tower, but the bells are driving me insane.
87. BT, Grayeven, Mirthday
I haven't written in the journal in a while, nearly a month, in fact. I learned a new line of spells and can now teleport between various regions in the blink of an eye. Praise Innoruuk for magic: no more boats! Now that I can safely explore the depths without need for breath, I've been examining the water life in my homeland's forest.
87. BT, Blossoming, Burnday:
This journaling thing is tough. I never seem to have the time to write! I've been spending a lot of time exploring the oceans around Freeport. Many interesting bone structures down here. I'm going to be gathering some for experimentation later. It even looks like one of these skeletons may be from a dragon. Quite interesting.
87. BT, Warmstill, Feastday
The sunken ships off the coast of Qeynos hold much potential for plunder. I'm going to use the power of the earring to investigate them more thoroughly. Perhaps there were people of means on board when the ships went down. One can only hope...
87. BT, Firstchill, Brewday
Lord Everling has heard of my exploits and would like me to come to dinner. I think I shall oblige! If I manage to obtain his patronage, surely I can afford a few luxuries that have been out of my reach...
87. BT, Deadening, Soulday
I have taken an apprenticeship position with a powerful necromancer named Varsoon. His studies into immortality are quite impressive, and it's likely I will manage a way to live forever in his service. I shall leave my journal behind for someone to find at a later date.
Books
Ignatia Cellus' Family History Book This item can be placed on the floor in any house type.
This completed book can be placed in your house and read.
I am trying to compile the Cellus' family stories into remembrances of what was and how it has changed over time. If you bought this volume and its covers were removed, know that the seller is probably keeping out the good bits for him or herself!
I am sure that some of my family's writings still exist elsewhere in Norrath. Unless they were destroyed in the Shattering or as mentioned before, held back by unscrupulous vendors. Whatever portion of this tome you have, cherish it and remember the Cellus family of Qeynos.
My name is Ignatia Cellus and my story is nothing like the tale of Isabella Cellus, my grandmother. She lived in a time of relative peace, while I am in a world besieged by terrors unimaginable. The undead rise up outside Qeynos and we all fear for our --
-- lives. Thank the gods for Kane Bayle, commander of the Guard. His guidance will surely lead Qeynos through this dark time! He has ordered the Guard to watch every possible entry to Qeynos, which means longer shifts and journeys far from home. I am in the Guard and, fortunately, patrol --
-- inside the catacombs near the Guild Halls. There is a strange odor in the air; it is the smell of death. The dead are piled high and cannot be buried, for there is no one to stand guard over the mourners and keep them safe. The undead appear --
-- in waves that we cannot repel easily, as there are so many of them and so few of us. With the Guard trying to keep Qeynos' entrances safe, there are not enough to do other tasks. I do not remember the last time I slept at home. This is exhausting.
Alas! Finally, I was able to return to my home in South Qeynos, only to find such sorrow. The block of homes on my street were filled with the dead. The patrol in that quadrant had not reported in a fortnight, so I was sent to check on them. My mother --
-- is one who died of this horrible plague that seems to rise from beneath us. Captain Keldrane has been sent to investigate the deepest areas of the Catacombs. Commander Bayle asked me personally to escort the unarmed to safety in Qeynos Hills. Some have said this will --
-- spread the Guard too thinly, but Commander Bayle doubtless knows more than the general populace. I trust his judgment. He would never betray Qeynos, never! Meanwhile, I am happy to leave the city; being here reminds me too much of --
-- the family and friends I have lost. I am accompanying a group of non-combatants out of the city to a secret place known only to my family until now. I hope we will be safe there. I did not tell the commander of this place, but I know our family's stronghold will not remain secret or hidden for long.
Books
Ilene Cellus' Family History Book This item can be placed on the floor in any house type.
This completed book can be placed in your house and read.
I am sure that some of my family's writings still exist elsewhere in Norrath. Unless they were destroyed in the Shattering or as mentioned before, held back by unscrupulous vendors. Whatever portion of this tome you have, cherish it and remember the Cellus family of Qeynos.
Good thing Ignatia had the sense to hide her journal. When all the Books of Knowledge were destroyed, some folk took that a bit further and destroyed every book they could find! My mamma said to me, "Ilene, where do you go and spend all your days?" but I didn't answer. I don't want her to know about --
-- these books I found from the War of Plagues and before, or she'll burn them before I finish reading them. It's so interesting to know some of the thoughts my ancestors had so long ago. They didn't know back then that the gods were going to leave --
-- and everything would be so awful. Mamma said the gods left behind hope, but I'd rather have the gods. When I pray, I want to know there's something listening. We live up in Qeynos Hills. Sometimes, we go to Qeynos, but always in a big caravan because of --
-- all the orcs. First it was one or two, but lately there's more and more of them. It makes mamma and papa nervous and they talk about moving back to the city. I like the Hills, though. Except for the stupid gnolls. That's one thing that hasn't changed, they still --
-- come up now and again. There's a lot of northerners coming to Qeynos Hills too. I don't know how we'll all survive, with those orcs coming in from the east. We spend a lot of time in caves --
-- hiding. I can't stand it. Someday, I'm going to go where there's nothing but grass and sky and you can see forever! Or near the sea! That would be good, too. We get fish sometimes out of the lakes, but they're pretty scrawny. All the food --
-- is scrawny. We go sometimes to get acorns and roots. When there's a deer or something big, we eat every last bit! In fact, papa just went out to get --
-- some wood so we can make soup out of the bones mamma saved. I haven't been allowed outside for months; the grown-ups say it's too dangerous. There's no one to hear our prayers which makes it lonesome. Oh! I hear them coming back already! I hope he's brought me --
-- he's dead! An orc hiding near the waterfall killed him! My uncle tried to save him, but nearly died as well. What will we do? How'd the orcs get so close in? We're going back to Qeynos tonight, mamma says -- I have to hide the books.
Books
In Search of the Wooly Mammoth This item can be placed on the floor in any house type.
A competent bookbinder is a valuable resource who can restore any book that's had pages removed.
This is a story about the unnamed author;s quest to find the Wooly Mammoths of the Everfrost Peaks.
Ever since I was a child, I remember hearing stories of great beasts that would plod across the snowy plains of the northlands.
These large beasts were very similar to the ones found in the southern plains of the Karanas, but covered in a great mass of shaggy hair.
I vowed that one day I would see these great beasts.
As I grew older, I would venture out to the plains to see these beasts.
I was shocked to see they were even larger than the picture my mind had painted. Standing twice as tall as a man, they had enormous ears that flapped down around their faces.
Thrilled at seeing an elephant for the first time, my mind raced at the thoughts of what a Wooly Mammoth could possibly look like.
My experience encouraged me to make the dangerous trek to the snowy northlands to find these beasts.
I visited every tavern in all of Qeynos and sought out brave adventurers that would accompany me on my journey. For you see, the only way to breach the frozen tundra was to travel through the lair of the gnolls - Blackburrow.
Gathering together several brave souls, including a barbarian native to the snowy town of Halas, we began hiking northwards through the Qeynos Hills.
Being careful to heed the advice of the Windstalkers, we deftly avoided all of the bears and the wolves that made these foothills their home. Eventually, we found ourselves standing before the maw of the gnoll's den.
My companions showed much bravery and skills in the combat arts by fending off the attacks of numerous hungry gnolls.
The barbarian, Narmat MacTargle, pointed out the winding tunnel that led to the snowy tundra of the north. Lighting our torches we continued our journey through this lightless cave.
Soon enough, I could feel the air getting cold.
Eventually we would reach the mouth of the tunnel, depositing us within the cold wastes of the north.
All around us were snow covered mountains and icy ground. Narmat told us that we would first want to journey to Halas to replenish our supplies.
Fortunately, as with Blackburrow, he knew the way.
Greeted by burly guards as large as my barbarian friends, we were allowed into the town just so long as we agreed to cause no harm.
When I told the guards about my quest to see the Wooly Mammoths, they just snorted and suggested I speak with Old Hemma.
Asking around, I eventually found where this ancient alder was found.
Blind for as many years as I was old, Old Hemma described in great detail the mighty Mammoths.
The part that I was interested in the most was the great tusks that protruded from their mouths.
Pointing to large spears, cups, plates, wall hangings and even the knob on the front door, Old Hemma told me that these were all carved from the teeth.
Telling me exactly how to find the breeding grounds of these magnificent beasts, he gave me a cryptic warning.
Saying that my quest would come to an end only when I found the cost of greed, he escorted me out of his house. Looking around, I noticed that every household had some adornment crafted from the teeth of Mammoths, just as Old Hemma had within his house.
My companions left the town at once, seeking a delta to the far northwest of the town.
The journey was long and hard, but we eventually found the delta as Old Hemma had described.
And this is when I understood what the old sage meant by finding the cost of greed. For all throughout the delta were the intact corpses of these once magnificent beasts, frozen to the ground.
Intact save for one small detail - all of the Mammoths had their tusks removed.
In the end, I started my quest too late, for the Mammoths were driven to extinction for no reason other than their two front teeth.
Books
Into the Hive This item can be placed on the floor in any house type.
This is a mastery tome. Use the knowledge contained within to gain a basic understanding of the tactics to use against the chosen foe.
"Into the Hive" -- from the writings of Brin Clishmacleaver
Being the attempt of a gnomish entomologist to gain insight into the world of the Bonemire's ravasects.
Despite the crash of our ship, the Drednever Expedition's scientific work continues.
It has been our goal to study and catalog the various fauna encountered in these new regions, known as the Overrealm. Though we have encountered insectoid forms before, the ravasects of the Bonemire are exceptional.
Though I have only been able to closely study one of the hives, I get a sense that there are more out there.
Standing on their hind legs, the ravasects are a graceful sight.
They reside in what can be compared to ant colonies. There are obvious field workers seeking sustenance to bring back to the hive, as well as warrior-like protectors that constantly patrol the hive's entrance.
Though I have not yet entered a hive, I expect to find a matriachal society led by a solitary queen.
Their slender heads are framed by large ovoid eyes and thin (but menacing) mandibles. Other types have small mandibles, with large protrusions over their shoulders.
Perched on their four long legs, these creatures are graceful to behold either in movement or in stillness. As with many other insects, each of their "eyes" is actually comprised of many smaller eyes, giving them the ability to see danger approaching.
Though wart of my approach, they seem to tolerate my presence.
The tips of their gasters are tipped by stingers, indicated that they can potentially use poisonous venom in an attack.
Though I've been carefully observing the hive, I have not seen any behavior indicating that they are an aggressive species. Still, I am keeping my distance until we can sort out more about these beasts.
It appears their main focus is the maintaining of their hive and its environs.
Ah, it is a few days since I first began my observations. I see now that there are two hives in this region. There are possibly others as well, though these two seem to be the main hives.
We have named them the "Vornerus" and the Humator" hives, though undoubtedly they call themselves something completely different.
The language of the ravasect creatures is a humming, clicking sound. Their mandibles often work in conjunction with different clicks as though amplifying individual words.
Some ravasects have smaller, scarab-like companions.
Without actually infiltrating a hive and examining their life process, it's difficult to say whether these are perhaps a larval stage of the full-grown ravasect or merely a companion species. Their appearance is so dissimilar, I tend to believe they are simply companions.
As ants maintain aphids for their milk, I wonder whether the ravasects gain some similar benefit from these scarabs?
My goal for this day is to see whether I can make my way into one of these ravasect hives.
So far, these creatures have ignored me. I believe they are harmless, though communications with them are proving impossible. Still, I think I will be able to demonstrate our coming in the spirit of friendship and thus not suffer any ill effects.
The other members of the Expedition think this is a bad idea.
The chosen day for my visit to the actual hive is finally here. I am not sure what to expect.
Respect is the main ally of any social scientist, which is really what an entomologist is. I believe that by approaching them with patience and respect, the ravasects will understand that I am not a threat to their well-being.
The hum within the hive is incredible! It's much larger than I expected as well.
While they seemed curious at first, the ravasects have allowed me to access their inner sanctum without any trouble. I chose to enter the Hive Vornerus, since the Expedition shares the same sky island.
I am taking it slowly so as not to rouse them.
The poison is very slow-acting. I can still write, but the pain is slowly seeping upward into my hands.
Apparently, I have transgressed a law of the ravasects and will now pay the ultimate price for my stupidity. I blundered into a sacred chamber here in Hive Vornerus and thus set them against me as enemies. I had no idea they were so developed as to have organized religion.
With luck, I will go before they begin feeding and these notes will serve as a warning to those who would follow.
Books
Iriana Cellus' Family History Book This item can be placed on the floor in any house type.
This completed book can be placed in your house and read.
I am sure that some of my family's writings still exist elsewhere in Norrath. Unless they were destroyed in the Shattering or as mentioned before, held back by unscrupulous vendors. Whatever portion of this tome you have, cherish it and remember the Cellus family of Qeynos.
I found ancient papers written by not only my ancestors, but by others from the past. Maybe the heat of the sun on the plains preserved the writings. Illene never did get to see Qeynos, as her family moved east rather than west. I cannot imagine --
-- the world described! My father says he can remember when the moon was whole, but it has always appeared in my sky as a shining smear, like fish scales spilling from a broken bowl. I am Iriana Cellus and I live in an area known as the Thundering Steppes. There are --
-- no ships because the oceans are still too rough, but I like to sit on the shore and watch the waves. Father says the seas never used to come up so high. Oh! The other day I saw the oddest thing! A rat, nearly as tall as myself! And it could speak, but I didn't --
-- understand it, at first. After a while, it sat next to me and we drew pictures in the dirt to talk. His family comes from far away, looked like under the mountains. Or it might have been under the waves. He didn't draw very well, but then again, neither do I. He --
-- ran away when my sister approached. Later, I saw another one peering out from a ruined watchtower. There are more and more of these interesting new creatures in the Steppes. I didn't ask anyone what it was; I know they would say it's --
-- my imagination. As if I could imagine up a talking rat! I wonder if I'll see him again, or any of these other rat-people? My father said we are going to --
-- help rebuild Qeynos, so we'll be leaving in a day or two. It is the only city left in the entire world. Well, besides Freeport. I cannot wait! I wonder what will happen to the rat-people? Where can they go?
Books
Isabella Cellus' Family History Book This item can be placed on the floor in any house type.
This completed book can be placed in your house and read.
My ancestors, going back to Isabella Cellus, loved traveling through the area we now call Antonica. I am trying to compile our stories into remembrances of what was and how it has changed over time. If you bought this volume and its covers were removed, know that the seller is probably keeping out the good bits for him or herself!
I am sure that some of my family's writings still exist elsewhere in Norrath. Unless they were destroyed in the Shattering or as mentioned before, held back by unscrupulous vendors. Whatever portion of this tome you have, cherish it and remember the Cellus family of Qeynos.
"Antonica," by Isabella Cellus. I am traveling through an area known as Qeynos Hills. It's filled with quite a population of animals and different sorts of folks. Someone is following me --
-- so I am not enjoying this journey. Anyway, from these Hills, one can see North Qeynos, Western Karana and the frosted peaks of the northern mountains. The Sabertooth gnolls that come over from Blackburrow are especially annoying. They keep stealing my paper! Those little runts! During my --
-- travels, I've met a lovely ranger named Holly Windstalker. She's very friendly and outgoing, but a bit crazed about wolves and bears. We were having a picnic near the Surefall Glades, when someone walked by with --
-- a wolf pelt over his shoulder. Holly went nuts! She up and gave this poor fellow a piece of her mind, then chased him all the way to Blackburrow! He shouted at her, "My lady --
-- the wolf attacked me first!" Holly didn't seem to care. I think I'll head over that way to interview him for my next bit on Blackburrow. Thanks to Holly, now I know someone who goes there!
The fellow Holly chased to Blackburrow is related to a handsome scout named Malityn. He's very noble and good-hearted, and I've been spending a lot of time with him. Blackburrow is a classic dungeon, very dark and gloomier the further down into it one gets. Groups of Sabertooth gnolls are hard at work digging out tunnels. With Malityn at my side, however, I felt very safe. He must do something about --
-- his hair. Anyway, Blackburrow is a pretty dismal place and dampness is not good for my complexion. Malityn was starting to be so possessive! If anyone so much as spoke to me, he'd whack off their head! So, it's farewell Malityn and back to Qeynos Hills. Hopefully, I'll be able to shake this cold. I'm going to gather some willowbark to brew some tea, which will help tremendously with my headache. I saw some willows to the north, beyond the aqueduct.
There is a lot of unrest these days in the Qeynos Hills, which makes me rethink my adventuring out in the wilds. Barbarians are moving southward from their home in Halas, although the reason isn't clear to me. They sure are big, though! I might wander up that way. That would mean another trip through Blackburrow, though, and I am not sure I'm ready to face --
-- Malityn. Unless he's ready to move on with me, there is no point in continuing to see him. Holly says scouts can be that way, especially when he spends all that time underground, investigating those gnolls. Some days I wish I had --
-- never left the safety of South Qeynos. Malityn says he's ready to leave Blackburrow and come with me, as he thinks the damp is ruining his hair. At last! The woods and hills are lovely but I will lay aside my pen for now and return to my home. Perhaps our daughter will carry on the tale.
Books
Jerb Northstar's Journal This item can be placed on the floor in any house type.
A competent bookbinder is a valuable resource who can restore any book that's had pages removed.
This book is titled "Jerb Northstar's Journal". It appears to be a chronicle of how a druid investigated some new visitors that came to live within his forest.
Entry Thirty-Eight -
I have spoken with Left Paw and he told me that there are visitor within the Pines. Though he was too interested in the salmon, in between mouthfuls he told me that I would find them down by the shore.
I may wish to see who these guests are, and what intentions they have.
Entry Forty-Three - I have seen our visitors from afar. I cannot tell for certain what they have planned, but it looks as if our guests may be staying for a while to come. I believe I shall introduce myself to these women so that they know the Glade and the Pines are already being looked after.
Entry Forty-Six -
I am very uncertain about why these women have come to our trees. Though they claim they are refugees, I could tell there was something unspoken between them whenever they would talk.
The most mysterious was what appeared to be their leader. I will record my findings and bring this to the Circle. Perhaps their wisdom may better know what to do.
Arialla Clearsong appears to be the leader of this group of women.
She is the one who introduced each of her fellows and explained why they were here in the Jaggedpine.
She said they would take refuge on the small island for the time being and leave it as it was when they were done. She refused to say what it was that they were "doing", however.
Andria introduced herself as a templar.
I was unfamiliar with the term, but she assured me it was just a word her people used to describe those who held faith within their hearts.
I was unable to get her to tell me what god she worshipped, which draws my suspicion.
Abella claimed to be a sorcerer.
She explained that she drew energies from the surrounding air and crafted them into other forms.
I am unfamiliar with the workings of magic that comes not from nature, so much of what she said meant nothing to me.
Alexis described herself as a sooth.
When I asked her what that meant, she told me that I would surely find out one day. I took her for being one of the rudest of the group.
Anessa called herself a thaumaturge.
She started to explain what it was that a thaumaturge did, but was interrupted by Arialla who had questions for me. When I answered and asked Anessa to continue, she told me I would not find it interesting.
I am no fool, however. I know Arialla gave Anessa a signal to hold her silence.
Abigail said that she was a mystic.
She told me how she could see those who were trapped between the worlds of life and death.
Telling her that I did not believe in such nonsense, I felt the wind kick up around my hair. I am sure it was nothing more than mere coincidence.
Anathema was the last one I spoke with, and she in turn aroused my suspicion the most. She told me she was a protector, but when I asked of what, she just looked to Arialla.
I stood between the two, blocking visual contact, and that was when I could see the tears begin to well up in her eyes.
I am certain there is more going on than meets the eye to these women.
Books
Karath Smoothmane - The Breaking of the Pact This item can be placed on the floor in any house type.
This completed book can be placed in your house and read.
This book is titled "Karath Smoothmane - Breaking of the Pact ". It is a complete volume chronicling the events of a centaur chieftain and how the tribe managed to co-exist with the giants of the Thundering Steppes.
The following is the account of my travels with Karath Smoothmane, chief of the Baelazern tribe of centaurs in the Commonlands. Throughout the time I spent with him, I came to know him as a good friend. Not only did I learn his customs, I learned much about his life, as well. One of the most important tales I learned from him is transcribed in the following pages - The Breaking of the Pact.
It was late in the summer when Karath told me why the centaurs would attack only the groups of giants that had six or more in them. Instead of singling out the easier targets, such as the old or the occasional wandering giant, the herd would attack those that could easily defend themselves. He said that this was due to the Breaking of the Pact.
Karath's sire's sire was the chieftain of the Baelazern tribe at the time when the Pact was broken. It seems that both the giants and the centaurs had a generations-long truce to share the land, staying out of each other's way. Both races lived in harmony, even throughout the time of the Rending. Not only would the Shattering destroy the moon of Luclin, it would also break apart the Pact the two peoples held.
As the very moon began to barrage the land, both of the two peoples decided that they must work together in order to survive. Both leaders of the races agreed to meet so that they could work out an alliance, not just a truce. Much ceremony was prepared for when the two would meet.
As both parties met and exchanged their welcoming customs, tragedy struck. In a blazing ball of fire, an enormous boulder from the moon struck the ground where both leaders were, killing them instantly. Only a few people survived the impact, and they went back to describe the treachery of the other side, blaming each other for what happened.
For the next several years, open warfare broke out among both the giants and the centaurs. Finally, when Kararth's sire came of breeding age, he rose up and united the clan once again. With his eloquent words, he stopped the centaurs from raiding the giants by emphasizing honor. He told them he had a plan.
The plan that Karath had in mind would involve showing the giants that they were nothing more than beasts. They could not defeat their enemies by lowering themselves down to their level. If the centaurs were to survive the Shattering, they must not come out of it as barbaric as a human. Or so, these were the words that Karath had said to his people.
And so the Baelazern clan proceeded to agree to rules of engagement, asking for council from their new chief. As the years went on they, refined their tactics to the point that they would only attack those that could defend themselves. Karath said that since that day, the centaurs have succeeded at his sire's vision. I asked Karath how many foes they have defeated since then, and he responded with one word, "None".
I was wondering how not killing a single giant, the centaur's sworn enemy for close to a hundred years, could be considered successful. Seeing my confusion, Karath chuckled and told me the why. As his sire grew up, waiting for the day when he would rule his people, he would run and play with his only friend... the giant chieftain's son.
While they played, they both came up with a plan on how to get their people to work together, yet to also keep their pride. When both chieftains were old enough to lead their people, the plan went into effect. Both people would only attack those that could defend themselves. In the end, even though they war with each other, both peoples have not lost one warrior, woman, or child to the other side for the past two generations.
Books
Karath Smoothmane - Winter Comes This item can be placed on the floor in any house type.
This completed book can be placed in your house and read.
This book is titled "Karath Smoothmane - Winter Comes". It is a complete volume chronicling the events of a centaur chieftain and the decline of his tribe.
The following is the account of my travels with Karath Smoothmane, chief of the Baelazern tribe of centaurs in the Commonlands. Throughout the time I spent with him, I came to know him as a good friend. Not only did I learn his customs, I learned much about his life, as well. This tale is my last memory of this proud centaur.
At this point, it had already been close to ten winters that I had been traveling with Karath's tribe, the Baelazern. Karath was already beginning to show some silver in his mane by now, and the two sons the High mare had given him were growing to look just like him. This is when Karath asked of me what would be his last request.
Karath asked me to follow him to the great crater, site of the doomed alliance ceremony between the giants and the centaurs. We left at dawn and spent the next several days trekking across the Steppes. Being that it was during the mid-season, the heat was beginning to take a toll on me. When I could take it no more, I looked over and saw that he was worse for wear than even I.
The sweat glistening off his fur had an unhealthy sheen to it, but it did not compare to the look of consternation on his face. I asked him if he was alright, and he insisted that we continue, for we didn't have much further to go. Not an hour later, we arrived at our destination and spied that is was overrun by gnolls. Karath then told me that we needed to speak, for he was dying.
Karath told me that he had a sickness in his lungs that the tribal medicine man could not cure. Much had been done to heal him of this wasting illness, but to no avail. I yelled at him and demanded to know why he did not tell me. He said that no one knew - just him and the medicine man. I asked him why there was so much secrecy and he told me that when he dies, the Baelazern clan will die with him.
Karath then told me the secret to the centaurs surviving upon the Steppes where everyone else either emigrated or was extinguished. Many, many years ago, a man approached Karath's sire and offered a deal. He offered to keep the tribe safe from the gnolls and surrounding humans, all in exchange for one small favor.
The man, who called himself Varsoon, only asked for Karath's sire's firstborn son in return for his assistance. Karath's sire refused and demanded the man leave at once. Karath was safe, and the tribe struggled to survive. When Karath was made chief, the man came again. And Karath made a choice he now regrets.
Karath agree to the deal, and handed over his firstborn son. Though everyone thinks he died in a hunting accident, the truth is far worse. The prosperity of the Baelazern tribe was all due to his son's unwilling sacrifice. Karath believed the fate of one outweighed the fate of dozens. That was until Varsoon came to him again and demanded another son. Karath drove him away this time, but not without a terrible price.
Varsoon issued a curse upon the tribe from afar. Karath now realizes what he has done. With his bloodline in the hands of Varsoon, the tribe would never be free of Varsoon. However, if Karath died without blessing his son, then the tribe would be free to join up with other herds. The Baelazern would be done, but it's people would live on. With that, he thanked me for being his friend, and proceeded to gallop down into the crater, full of ravenous gnolls.
That was the last time I ever saw Karath. Since then, his clan broke apart and merged with other surrounding clans. The giants and the centaurs would eventually go to war again with each other, nearly decimating each other. Though he does not know I am there, I still spy his grandson, Zair, from time to time. In my heart, I hope that his grandson will have the strength to reunite the Baelazern once again. If not, I do not expect the two peoples, giants and centaurs, to last another century on Norrath.
Books
Know Your Bixies This item can be placed on the floor in any house type.
This is a mastery tome. Use the knowledge contained within to gain a basic understanding of the tactics to use against the chosen foe.
"Know Your Bixies," by Pearl Honeywine -- Being an exhaustive study into the habitat. social structure and culture of the Rivervale bixies.
I am Pearl Honeywine, creature behaviorist and sociologist. It is my goal to spend time learning more about some of the denizens of Norrath, in order to understand how they live and how best to eliminate them when they become too aggressive. This current study is about the Rivervale bixies.
It wasn't until very recently that the survival of bixies could be reliably confirmed, post-Shattering.
With the chaos brought about by years of uncertainty and the inability for most travelers to make the dangerous crossing of the Sea of Mist to the Enchanted Lands, many folk assumed the bixies had perished.
Fortunately, these folk have been proven wrong with the discovery of the Stone Hive bixies of Rivervale.
Bixies are often seen as merely overgrown bees, as members of a bixie hive serve many of the same functions as bees.
There are workers, drones and the hive's queen. Workers gather honey for the hive and are not usually interested in creatures (such as you!) in their vicinity, unless they feel threatened.
In that case, look out for their stingers!
You will know you are close to a bixie hive if you encounter bixie drones.
The drones serve as guards for the hive, protecting the queen and nearby bixie workers.
If you encounter a drone on patrol and are wearing something sparkly, be careful! Some drones will try to wrest that item from you in order to present it to the hive queen.
Bixie drones will use their poisonous stingers to attack.
The leader of every bixie hive is the bixie queen, who directs the work of all the bixies in her hive. Bixie queens are renown for producing a variety of herbal or alchemic honey mixtures which have various of interesting properties. Each hive produces their own special blend which can vary in potency and color, depending on the quality of ingredients available.
Bixie queens are not aggressors; their job is to organize and run the hive.
Therefore, even when they are attacked, they will often sting and retreat behind their drone protectors.
These drones will defend their queen to the death, which is quite a noble and breath-taking sight to behold! The drones are very skilled at teaming up to deal as much damage as possible to anyone who they feel is threatening their queen.
One item which I must say is a particular favorite, is collecting the honey jum created by the bixies.
This sweet, sticky substance is very useful in concocting traditional halfling dishes, including jumjum cakes and jumjum-infused drinks.
My favorite treat is biscuits with jumjum-flavored cream and berries, which I will share with you, my readers, for the first time in print --
-- Combine one cup of whipping cream with one large spoonful of buttermilk, letting it sit out for a day to thicken.
Whip the thickened cream together with a small spoonful of honey jum. Make your favorite biscuits, adding two large spoonfuls of honey jum to the batter before baking.
Split the cooked biscuits, drop a dollop of jumjum-flavored cream on them, top with berries and then drizzle with more honey jum. Place the other biscuit half on the top and serve.
Remember: jumjum equals yum yum!
Male bixies are very, very rare. While I have spent considerable time gathering honey jum and information from the Stone Hive bixies, I did not encounter a single male bixie!
Still, given the fact that there are still bixies in Norrath, one can only assume that there is at least one male bixie per hive in service to the hive's queen.
There are no confirmed sightings of bixies beyond the Enchanted Lands at this time. This makes honey jum rare outside the region.
With travel between the Enchanted Lands and the rest of Norrath so limited, those who can manage the journey across the Sea of Mist and back will find themselves besieged with requests for this intoxicatingly sweet substance.
I hope this information provides you with enough basic information about bixies that you will be able to learn more about them on your own.
Bixies are complex, fascinating and useful. We need to take advantage of their work rather than exterminate them on sight simply because we can.
Books
Know Your Giants This item can be placed on the floor in any house type.
This is a mastery tome. Use the knowledge contained within to gain a basic understanding of the tactics to use against the chosen foe.
"Know Your Giants," by Pearl Honeywine -- Being an exhaustive study into the habitat, social structure and culture of Norrathian giants.
Sweet and sour. Up and down. Left and right. Fire and ice. What do these pairs of words have in common? They are opposites. And some opposites have more in common than one might first imagine.
First, a discussion of the fire giant, or Krombral.
They are one of the more magically adept giant types on Norrath, although they are also one of the fiercest and brutal giant races.
It is said that they are titanic versions of the barbaric tribes that existed during the Age of Blood.
Fire giants are often skilled in metalwork and smithing. As they live in some of the most inhospitable areas of the world, they are able to handle the hottest materials without damage to themselves.
In part due to their environment, fire giants do not need to wear much in the way of armor, but if they are armored it is of a design that no other being could make.
With their high resistance to magical forces, fire giants must be addressed directly.
If one is attempting to negotiate with a fire giant, be forewarned that they have a very suspicious nature and have in the past mistaken friendly advances for aggressive behavior.
Second, a discussion of the ice giant.
As ice is the opposite of fire, so the ice giant is often considered the reverse of the fire giant. This assessment is true on certain levels.
Some common characteristics both giants share include their height and mass as well as the temperature extremes in which both giants dwell.
The similarity ends there between these two massive beings.
Ice giants, or Kromise, were once frost giants such as one might have encountered in the land of Velious.
However, during the Elder Age when all the children of Rallos Zek earned the hatred of the gods of the Plane of Earth, the frost giant suffered a terrible fate -- one they had brought upon themselves.
While many frost giants had been driven out of their ancestral lands by a bitter, inhospitable cold , those that foolishly remained were slowly changed from beings of flesh to beings of ice.
The very blood of their veins turned to freezing water while their skin transformed into ice. Their minds, tormented by the changes of their bodies, gradually lost the ability to reason and filled with mindless fury.
The ice giant is a formidable opponent. As with fire giants, ice giants have a natural immunity to attempts to magically defeat them.
It is necessary to use one's wits and to remain calm in battle. Remember, they are enraged and the enraged do not think so clearly.
This may prove the key to surviving an encounter with them.
There are, of course, other giants throughout Norrath besides fire and ice giants.
Hill giants, for example, can still be found. They are not quite so imposing as their elementally challenged brethren, but they are still extremely tall.
While fire giants are intelligent and ice giants mad (and is not madness simply uncontrollable intelligence?), hill giants are generally considered crude, uncivilized and stupid.
Once, a hill giant called Hammertoe stomped through Nektulos with a dwarf, who was hollering for help and generally appearing nonplussed, stuck between his toes.
Hammertoe was oblivious to the thrashing of the dwarf, who remained wedged tight until the thoughtless giant stopped while crossing a river.
As Hammertoe wiggled his toes in the cool stream, the dwarf worked his way free and made it to the surface.
I hope this information provides you with enough basic information about giants that you will be able to learn more about them on your own.
While they can often be seen from a distance, it is only by getting up close that one will learn more about these titanic beings.
Books
Know Your Gnolls This item can be placed on the floor in any house type.
This is a mastery tome. Use the knowledge contained within to gain a basic understanding of the tactics to use against the chosen foe.
"Know Your Gnolls," by Pearl Honeywine -- Being an exhaustive study into the habitat, social structure and culture of the gnolls of the Antonica region.
My name is Pearl Honeywine and I am studying gnoll habitat and society to better understand these creatures. Through my work, "Know Your Gnolls," I hope to increase the body of knowledge regarding these beasts and thereby also increase our ability to reduce their numbers.
The gnolls of Antonica are descended from the gnolls of the Qeynos Hills and Blackburrow region of old Norrath.
They look like upright canines, with an elongated snout, pointed ears high upon their heads. They are taller than the average human. It is impossible to distinguish between the male and female of the species at a distance.
In order to understand the modern-day gnolls, one must first understand a bit of their history. By living amongst the gnolls, I have learned some of their secrets -- secrets which were hitherto unknown outside their tribes.
A gnoll clan is a ruling regional tribe of gnoll, for example the Sabertooth Clan.
A gnoll clan is comprised of a number of gnoll packs. These are more akin to large family units. A gnoll pack shares characteristics ranging from fur patterns to intellect. The Sabertooth Clan is comprised of many packs.
Rarely, some gnoll clans may be comprised of a single gnoll pack of immense size. It is widely believed that the gnoll clan of yore, the Splitpaw Clan, was one such clan of albino gnolls.
As many unwary travelers can attest, gnolls will attack anything on sight, provided they feel they have the upper hand. As pack creatures, if one attacks a lone gnoll, other gnolls in the vicinity may join the fray to assist. Therefore, it is important to first gauge the proximity of gnolls to one another before attacking, unless one is certain that one's weaponry, armor or enhancements are up to the challenge.
It is the pack mentality which makes the gnoll an occasionally formidable opponent. Several gnolls will band together and stake out territories to guard zealously, attacking all who come within range.
The obvious exception the gnoll makes is toward anything larger than itself. Gnolls will gladly avoid anything that resembles either a hard battle or hard work.
One might say the gnolls specialize in bullying and cowardice.
The Sabertooth Clan is comprised of many packs. Two gnoll packs within the Sabertooth Clan are the Darkpaw pack and the Timberclaw pack.
A gnoll pack may specialize in a particular area such as foraging, pillaging, tunneling, etc. They are content to avoid other tribes to concentrate on maintaining their tribe's current territories.
They will make an exception to band together against non-gnolls, even when such groupings include other species entirely, such as orcs, trolls and ogres.
The main advantage the gnolls have in battle are their sheer numbers. I have been unable to discover their breeding grounds, although it is believed to still be located within the dark confines of Blackburrow.
No matter how often tribes are reduced, they are able to repopulate their territory rather speedily. By continuing to replenish their tribes' strength from a hidden, renewable resource, the gnolls are able to intimidate weaker species by overwhelming with strength in numbers rather than strategy.
This is not to imply that gnolls are unintelligent; they are cunning and sly creatures.
While they place a higher value on hunters and warriors, there are gnoll shamans and mystics that practice arcane arts and rituals. These gnolls can still be formidable in battle by their strength, however it is their use of both offensive and defensive spells which can take down an enemy with an element of surprise.
No review of the gnolls is complete without mention of the most famous gnoll in history, Fippy Darkpaw, a member of the Sabertooth Clan of gnolls.
Fippy Darkpaw specialized in planning elaborate attacks on the main gates of Qeynos during the Age of Turmoil. While his fate is unknown, his descendants formed the base of the numerous Darkpaw gnolls in Antonica.
Rumor has it that there is another Fippy Darkpaw, a gnoll of uncommon cunning and intelligence, who used his skills as a thief to steal a part of the Clock of Ak'Anon in Qeynos and render it inoperable.
This mysterious Fippy still lives by his wits, they say, constantly on the move, observing non-gnolls and using the knowledge he gains against them. As he is swift and sneaky, it is difficult to say whether I have met him in disguise or if he exists at all.
Personally, I do not believe such a clever gnoll could exist!
I hope this information provides you with enough basic information about gnolls that you will be able to learn more about them on your own.
To capture the spirit of the gnoll, one must go into the various tribes and seek this information first-hand.
Farewell, reader, and good luck in your quest to Know Your Gnolls!
Books
Know Your Golems This item can be placed on the floor in any house type.
This is a mastery tome. Use the knowledge contained within to gain a basic understanding of the tactics to use against the chosen foe.
"Know Your Golems," by Pearl Honeywine -- Being an exhaustive study into the world of the golem.
Golems can defy most attempts to classify their kind. This work is the result of years of research into these creatures, although there are still obvious gaps in our current knowledge.
It is technically impossible for one to know all the variations that a golem can take as golems are created by high-level magic users who will naturally determine from what their golem will be created.
There are some sweeping generalizations that can be made, however.
The first generalization is that golems are artificial constructs.
They are animated through the use of arcane magical spells which bind their material and infuse it with the abilities to move or interact with others as necessary.
As the spells to create a golem are from the higher realms of knowledge, they are time consuming and therefore not wasted on animating smaller objects.
That is not to say that smaller golems are never created, however it is in the caster's best interest to manipulate as much matter as can be handled.
A skilled caster will be able to animate numerous golems simultaneously. Some casters, however, will concentrate their efforts on one golem in particular.
If more are needed, the caster will require his or her apprentices to create those.
By using apprentices, a skilled caster can concentrate on a golem leader who can in turn command lower forms of golems.
This is a rare application, however, but it has been done successfully in the past and therefore, one must be vigilant in dealing with golems.
While most golems are seen in sentry or guardian positions, there is record of a golem created long ago by the Academy of Arcane Science to serve as a repository for the Academy's research.
This golem was imbued with the ability to speak and so was able to recall and present information when questioned by knowledge seekers.
The external form of a golem will vary from one to the next. Some golems are animated from simple stones and therefore look like those very stones. This can be dangerous to the unwary traveler who may accidentally trigger a golem's defense mechanism without even knowing a golem is there.
There have been tales of golems created in the form of scarecrows, such as the simple ones found in any farmer's fields.
Bone golems are constructed of animated bones. In this latter case, the bones reanimate into any structure and are not bound by any conventional anatomical placement.
Gnomish creations have given rise to the formation of metal or clockwork golems as well.
These golems are formed from bits found in any gnome village's scrap heap.
While fearsome to see, it is gratifying to know that they are animated by an outside force (magic) and not moving under their own power! That would be truly terrifying.
Methods for dispensing with golems will vary, of course, depending on the material from which that golem is constructed.
For example, a clockwork golem would be weakest against attacks which destroy the metals from which they are made. Stone golems can often be dissolved with a force of water. Scarecrow golems can be burned.
One must examine the target carefully to determine one's strategy and proceed, as in every endeavor, with caution.
I hope this book provides you with enough basic information about golems that you will be able to learn more about them on your own.
They are fascinating in their diversity and additional study is well worth the effort.
Books
Krymok's Peace Plan This item can be placed on the floor in any house type.
A thin collection of parchments bearing Krymok's notes and proposals for reduction of hostilities between Sarnaks and Haoaerans.
The words of Krymok QuelGok, Civ-Parser of Gorowyn. Offered to the Haoaeran emissary, Rakon Daka.
Proposal I: On Ending the Present War Entirely It has been considered by the Samak people, that in recognition of the appearance of emissaries from Haoaera at the place of truce agreed upon by both sides, we shall take this opportunity to explore the possibility of the end of fighting, and express the conditions which must be agreed to by the Haoaerans before such a possibility can be realized. For we, the Sarnaks, to forego our anger at the historic betrayal and attempt made by the Haoaerans to exterminate our kind these many years ago, to eschew any and all action now under consideration to extract vengeance from our sworn enemies the Haoaerans for depredations and atrocities committed on our persons and property, and to foreswear any further acts of aggression whatsoever against the Haoaerans while they themselves shall abide by the terms named below, we shall require the following:
Proposal II: On Continuing the Present War, While Eschewing Certain Atrocious Acts In the event that Proposal I finds no sympathetic ear among the Haoaerans, perhaps they will agree to the following terms: The war shall continue on as before, but with the understanding that neither side shall interfere with certain functions of the other: 1. The laying of eggs, the operation of Creation Tubes and the raising of children; 2. The gathering and preparation of food; 3. The movement to and from places of parley while displaying appropriate colors; 4. The removal of injured from places of battle. In addition, it may be agreed that: 1. Prisoners taken by the combatants shall be fed and clothed and not exposed to unnecessary peril; 2 The use of poisons by the combatants be forbidden; 3. The use of magics by the combatants be
Proposal III: On Continuing the Present War, At a Lower Rate of Mutual Harm In the event that Proposals I and II fail to inspire the Haoaerans, perhaps they will agree to this. It is proposed that rather than unleash the full destructive might of the Sarnaks against the Haoaerans, that no more than fifty warriors from either side be equipped for fighting, and that the remote portions of Timorous Deep be set aside for combat between the two races, in perpetuity. In the event the Haoaerans accept this proposal, they would forever relinquish their claims to the city of Gorowyn and such other Iands now held by the Sarnaks... (The document continues, laying out the various rules by which this form of permanent ritual combat between the two sides would be governed.)
Proposal IV: On Continuing the Present War, Without Further Understanding Upon the inconceivable event that the Haoaeran delegation cannot be made to agree to any of the three preceding treaty proposals, it is desirable to inform them only that they risk further humiliating destruction of their lands, their homes, their property, and their people. The Sarnaks take no responsibility at all for any additional violent measures which may be necessary to compel the Haoaerans to accept their inevitable fate as functionary appendages of the Sarnak kingdom. However, as it is desirable to maintain some form of direct communication between warring foes, the delegation of Haoaeran emissaries led by Rakon Daka shall be considered permanently protected by truce so long as they conduct themselves neither as combatants nor as spies, and come no closer to Gorowyn than the hills to the northeast of Gorowyn's northern entrance.
Books
Leatherfoot Brigade Field Training Guide This item can be placed on the floor in any house type.
This completed book can be placed in your house and read.
This book is titled "Leatherfoot Brigade Field Training Guide". It is a field guide for a military platoon the halflings had at one point assembled.
So you want to be a Leatherfoot? Good! We want you to be one, too! We all know how hard it is to leave home and do our part to help the other races in the world. Just think of it this way - when you come back home a hero, your family will be so proud of you! So proud that they might bake you cakes and pies all the time to thank you for what you did. See, everyone wins!
Ranks: A number of different ranks exist within the Leatherfoot Brigade. New recruits will be referred to as Private. After a while, everyone will stop calling you Private and you'll be like all the rest of your fellow soldiers. Finally, your Sergeant will be the one giving you orders. Please be polite and don't give the Sarge any grief. Thank you.
Salutes: Sergeants and other officers are to be given the triple hand to the head salute. Soldiers and others of equal rank are to be given the double elbow salute. Dark Elves and other minions of darkness are to be given any salute you feel is the most appropriate.
Boots: Ever Leatherfoot will be given a pair of standard field boots. It will have all manner of pockets for holding interesting things in. If you plan on wearing the boots, please inform your sergeant at once, for you will be one of the first to do so.
Field Pack: In addition to the field boots, you will also be issued a field pack to carry your gear. Most of the room in your field pack will be reserved for your daily rations, therefore expect your pack to be twice your size.
Issuing of rations: Every day, a soldier will be issued their daily rations. These rations will include all the necessary foods for the following meals - breakfast, more breakfast, pre-brunch, brunch, lunch, post-lunch, afternoon snack, dinner, after-dinner, supper, and late night dessert.
Cleaning of Weapons: When cleaning your issued shortbow, always remember to keep it pointed away from your face. If you think you're a little smarty and insist on horsing around, you may want to ask Deadeye Jebby what happens when a joke goes too far.
Wargames: We Leatherfoots will regularly engage in field training, re-enacting famous battles between us and those dark elves. One side will be chosen to be us, and the other side will be the dark elves. When it's your turn to be a dark elf, do not go home and hide under your bed - this is not a tactic the enemy uses.
Drilling Songs: While marching in formation, your sergeants may begin singing the "Leatherfoot Forever" song. As a proud Leatherfoot, you must sing along unless you have a sore throat. If so, make sure you have either your wife or your mother send you to training with a note that day.
Leatherfoot Forever Words: Sarge - "I don't know but you've been told, but I like my jum-jum nice and cold!" You - "Drink up, Chow down!" Sarge - "I don't know, but it's been said, I'd much rather be home in bed." You - "Drink Up, Chow Down!"
Books
Leatherfoot Tales: The Houndslayer, Part One This item can be placed on the floor in any house type.
This completed book can be placed in your house and read.
This book is a retrospective of Leatherfoot Brigade scout Gumpy Nattoo's earliest adventures during the Age of Turmoil.
History is written after something happens and tells future folk about the past. That's what this is about: the past. When you're walking through any village, look to the elders to remember the stories of how different things are now from when they were young. No matter their age, they'll remember things as shouldn't be forgot. This is the beginning of one such tale.
Way back afore time began, the halflings lived in and around Rivervale, the most beautiful place in the world. Generations lived amongst the forested surrounds and didn't think much on what lay outside the borders. Some folk ventured out and came back with all sorts of outlandish tales. They were generally scoffed at, but over time, some of the most outlandish tales turned out to be true. Rivervale wasn't as isolated anymore.
As things became more turbulent, the Leatherfoot Brigade beefed up its ranks. Most young halflings associated with the Leatherfeet in some way or other, mostly because there were good discounts for the soldiers at the local taverns. When Gumpy Nattoo joined up, that was his primary concern: could he sleep in his own bed each night, and how much of a discount did he get at the Weary Foot Rest?
Gumpy's first assignment was to accompany the old Sarge out to Kithicor Forest, which had been a pretty place in the old days, but was now overrun with some of those outlandish things that folks didn't talk about after dark. Parts of the Forest still held the mysterious dark that made it a beauty spot; in some places, folks couldn't see the sky for the trees.
"It's lunch-time!" exclaimed the Sarge as they paused on the edge of a clearing. "How can you tell?" asked Gumpy. "By the rumble in my belly, son," said the Sarge, "Let's sit a spell and I'll tell you the real reason I brung you out here." They sat on a couple of burnt tree stumps and snacked on some dried fruit, crusty bread spread with butter and jum-jum, a few apples, a jug of honeywine and a half a dozen types of cheese. It was a light meal, for they were a days' journey from Rivervale.
"Son, you've heard the rumors of all what's going on in the lands," the Sarge said. "You're taller than most halflings, every bit as sneaky as the next fellow, and crafty besides. I need you in the Leatherfoot Brigade's scout unit." Gumpy was flattered and said so. The Sarge nodded, "Yep. So I'm going to up and leave now, and you find your way home. That'll be the test. Good luck." Before Gumpy could protest, the Sarge disappeared into the trees and what's more, he took the rest of the food with him.
Gumpy was kerflummoxed, but only for a moment. He had heard rumors of an elite unit of scouts, but no one ever came out and said who they really were. Any talk of them at the taverns always ended with someone singing a boisterous song that made idle chatter impossible. Gumpy stood up, measured the direction of the wind, observed the slant of the shadows and light, then headed off. In the wrong direction.
Hours later, Gumpy stood scratching his head industriously and wondering where in Norrath he had landed. He was pretty sure he was still in Kithicor, but in the name of Bristlebane, what were all those dark elf dragoons doing all over the place? He'd been used to the sight of the undead, but the dragoons were something new. Furrowing his brow, Gumpy retraced his steps, wishing fervently the Sarge had left some of their provisions with him.
He was surprised to find how much easier it was to follow the tracks this time. Though some of them seemed to lead in circles (no doubt to confuse the enemy), there was one clear set that trampled through the underbrush directly to the place where he and the Sarge had had lunch. Pleased with his progress, Gumpy was ready to follow the trail again when a Kithicor ranger melted out of the woods and nearly gave Gumpy a heart attack. "At last!" said the ranger, grasping Gumpy by the shoulder and marching him off into the dark.
"We've been waiting for you," said the ranger. "You are indeed most crafty; I have been tracking you for hours." Gumpy felt it best to say nothing and simply nodded. "Once we have met up with the other rangers, we will proceed to Rivervale to learn more of our mission," continued the ranger, adding, "I am impressed with your skills; let us break bread together while we walk." Those were the most welcome words Gumpy had heard all day. He followed the ranger into the woods.
Books
Leatherfoot Tales: The Houndslayer, Part Three This item can be placed on the floor in any house type.
This completed book can be placed in your house and read.
The final part in the Leatherfoot Tales: The Houndlayer book tells of the Houndslayer Gumpy Nattoo's triumphant return to Rivervale with the lead unit of the Kithicor rangers.
To commemorate his receiving the nickname "Houndslayer," the Kithicor ranger squad leader insisted upon slicing off the dead wolf's tail and tying it to Gumpy's belt. Gumpy felt a bit foolish having the tail flopping about as he and the rangers continued to Rivervale, but the rangers seemed to set a high store by his showing it off so he said nothing. He had found over the years that the less he said, the better off he ended up.
As the sun rose over the river which gave Rivervale its name, Gumpy and the Kithicor rangers entered the town. Smoke curled from a few chimneys, but the halflings were given to sleeping late. Gumpy said, "If anyone's awake, they'll be at a pub." Even though Gumpy told them it wasn't necessary, the rangers darted from one patch of shade to the next, looking both ways before they crossed any road and generally being so stealthy as to draw attention to themselves.
Having gotten the rangers to the inn, Gumpy went to the Sarge's home to rouse him and tell him about the visitors. The Sarge seemed put out that Gumpy was there so early in the morning, but he threw on his uniform and accompanied Gumpy back to the inn. Wrinkling his nose, the Sarge said, "Gumpy, I don't know where you got that mangy tail from, but I'd get rid of it; it stinks."
The ranger's squad leader and the Sarge held a quiet meeting together, during which time the Sarge furrowed his brow so intently that his eyes were nearly shut. At the conclusion of their discussion, the Sarge clapped Gumpy on the shoulder and told him, "Gumpy, you done us proud. The rangers are impressed with you and they've asked me to have your unit work with them on their mission. Good work, son." Gumpy thought this sounded like more work. Hard work.
The Kithicor rangers and the Leatherfoot's elite scout unit gathered together in Rivervale's ranger guild hall, where both the Sarge and the ranger squad leader took turns explaining the mission to the troops. Gumpy slumped dejectedly in his seat; the mission was as bad as he'd expected. The Leatherfeet and some of the Kithicor units would be heading to Neriak's Foreign Quarter within the hour. "And I haven't even had breakfast yet," Gumpy thought sadly.
"Troops," the Sarge said in his booming voice, "We've been hearing for many days now about the war going on over to Faydwer. Them gnomes as have come to Rivervale report a great loss of life. Them dark elves and such are burning and pillaging as they go, and we got to help stop them afore those pesky elves come this-a-way." At this moment, Gumpy slipped out for a snack; it sounded like the Sarge would be carrying on for a while.
"...and that's the orders, troops!" The Sarge finished speaking as Gumpy returned, his belly full of bacon, cheese toast and scrambled duck eggs. Chairs scraped the floor all across the hall as the Leatherfoot's elite troops stood to leave. "What's the order? What'd I miss?" Gumpy asked the nearest soldier, but there was so much noise in the room he couldn't get anyone's attention. "Come, Houndslayer!" cried one of the Kithicor rangers, "You travel with us!" Gumpy sighed, "Great."
"We travel through the Kithicor Woods, thence to Nektulos," said the ranger, patting Gumpy's shoulder. "You will be our emissary, Houndslayer, delivering dispatches between the units as you are well-acquainted with the woods." Gumpy tried to explain that he wasn't as familiar with the woods as the rangers credited him, but his new friend laughed merrily and said, "Nay! Nay! Your modesty is all too well known to us, Houndslayer! Now, let us prepare for the coming battle!"
Gumpy had never paid much attention to the gnomes that had been showing up in increasing numbers within the past months, but now they lined the streets of Rivervale alongside the halflings, waving farewell to the departing troops. "We won't be sneaking up on anyone anytime soon," grumbled Gumpy, "since everyone within a hundred sprockets of here can hear the racket."
The Kithicor ranger unit with Gumpy was the last to leave Rivervale. Turning to look over his shoulder at his home town, Gumpy felt a lump in his throat and his eyes stung as though pricked by tiny needles. "Must be getting old," he thought wiping his eyes with the back of his hand, "That's the last breakfast I'll ever have at the Egg Pan. Forgot I'm allergic to duck eggs again!"
Books
Leatherfoot Tales: The Houndslayer, Part Two This item can be placed on the floor in any house type.
This completed book can be placed in your house and read.
This part of the Leatherfoot Tales relates how Gumpy Nattoo received the name "Houndslayer" during the Age of Turmoil.
After meeting up with the Kithicor ranger in the woods, Gumpy felt his luck had changed. For one thing, the ranger shared his rations generously. For another, they were heading back to Rivervale. Since the Sarge had only said the test to become a Leatherfoot Brigade scout involved finding his way home, and never mentioned whether Gumpy might take help where he found it, Gumpy knew he'd get into the scout unit without trouble. What a great day this was turning out to be!
The other Kithicor rangers were much like the lad who had found Gumpy in the woods. They dressed simply and with little adornment other than having ivy etched on every article of clothing, armor and upon the hilts of their weapons. Gumpy found that the ivy theme carried even unto their undergarments, which discovery he made entirely by mistake by stepping off the narrow path and coming across one of the rangers who was, as they said in Rivervale, "contemplating life."
The rangers were a jolly bunch, if silent, and Gumpy felt completely at home. They treated Gumpy squarely as though he were one of them. When they encountered any enemies, Gumpy was allowed to protect the rear of the unit quite valiantly. It was during one of these times that Gumpy found himself face to face with a large hound that looked as though it hadn't eaten in days. In fact, it looked pretty enraged.
"Nice hound. There's a good puppy," croaked Gumpy, trying the technique which had always worked for him in the past when he delivered mail in the Misty Thicket. The hound was not taken in by his cheerful demeanor and circled around, fangs bared. Gumpy glanced over his shoulder. It sounded like the Kithicor rangers had not finished off the undead attackers; he was on his own.
The hound pounced and Gumpy dodged. He drew his weapon (a nice, ivy-etched gladius that one of the rangers gave him) and circled around again, keeping his face toward his adversary. Between encouraging the hound to "be a good pup" Gumpy found himself dodging more and more frequently. Where were those Kithicor rangers now that he really needed them?
With a snarl, the dog lunged forward and closed his jaws around Gumpy's left arm. Surprised and in pain, Gumpy whacked the dog on the top of its snout with the pommel of the gladius, which caused it to release its grip. Blood began to seep out of the puncture wounds the dog's fangs had made in his arm, soaking through his leather sleeves. Gumpy growled fiercely, "No dog bites Gumpy Nattoo and lives to tell about it!"
Crying aloud, Gumpy lunged at the dog, stabbing it with his gladius. If the hound had seemed enraged earlier, its anger was nothing compared to Gumpy's. Despite its protective cover of thick, matted fur, the hound was staggered by the force of Gumpy's blows. As it leaned to correct its balance, Gumpy lunged again and stuck the gladius directly into the hound's neck, slaying it instantly.
Standing over the dead dog, Gumpy was filled with remorse; this could have been some poor child's pet simply gone astray in the woods. And now it lay lifeless before him on the narrow ranger path. Rangers! He better not have lost them! Turning quickly around, Gumpy found himself face to the ivy-etched breastplate of a Kithicor ranger.
"Well done, Gumpy!" the ranger said in amazement, calling for his comrades. They crowded around Gumpy and the dead dog, patting him on the back and honoring his achievement. "Tweren't nothing but an angry hound," muttered Gumpy in embarrassment, "Any halfling could've done it in."
"Listen to his modesty; he calls the enraged dread wolf a mere hound!" cried the ranger squad leader. "Brave are the halfling warriors with whom we shall work!" Patting Gumpy on the shoulder, the leader continued, "I name you 'Houndslayer' for you have single-handedly killed a beast of great power." "Houndslayer," said Gumpy thoughtfully. "I like the sound of that."
Books
Leatherfoot Tales: The Last of the Teir'Dal, Part One This item can be placed on the floor in any house type.
This completed book can be placed in your house and read.
The Houndslayer's adventures continue as he and his comrades make their way through the dangerous regions of Kithicor and Nektulos.
Debate rages through history as to the origins of the dark elves, or as they call themselves, the Teir'Dal. Considering how different they look, it's easy to see why folks might think they're not elves. Looking at them closely, though, one can see the tilt of their eyes and the ears and realize they really are elves. Sometimes folks call them elves and sometimes Teir'Dal.
Battles are fought every day in some form or other through the world. It seemed to Gumpy Nattoo, whom the Kithicor rangers had named "the Houndslayer," that it would be much simpler if they could get from point A (Rivervale) to point B (First Gate) without anyone else trying to stop them. But no, that would indeed be too simple. Though the units traveled through Kithicor quickly and silently, they still ran into occasional problems.
Gumpy was tasked with relaying messages between the halfling's Leatherfoot units and the Kithicor ranger units. As they were traveling through the woods quickly and as silently as possible, Gumpy's messages were often late by the time they reached their destination. "And I'm about ready to pass out," Gumpy said under his breath. "Any more running around and I will name them Gumpyslayer."
On one of his fruitless treks, Gumpy unexpectedly encountered a group of gnomes. In the past several months, gnomes from Ak'Anon on Faydwer had been seeking refuge in Rivervale from an advancing force of dark elves. These gnomes, however, were not heading toward Rivervale but rather, away from it. "We're with the Leatherfeet," said one of them when Gumpy approached. "We've got a mechanamagical device that we're finishing up for your fight." "Oh," said Gumpy blankly, "that's nice."
Meeting up with the gnomes wasn't the first time Gumpy wished he hadn't slipped out for a snack during the Sarge's briefing. When the units camped down for the night, he tried to overhear any discussion of the forthcoming battle so that he might know their plan. He felt as though he may as well be on the dark elves' side as he had no idea what the halflings and Kithicor units were going to do once they reached the First Gate. And what of the gnomes?
The gnomes proved a chatty group and Gumpy found himself tagging along with them more and more frequently as their journey continued through Kithicor. Every so often, an arrow would whistle out of the dark and take out one of the gnomes. For a few minutes thereafter, the remaining gnomes whispered anxiously, but in time they forgot their caution and would chat normally again. Until the next arrow whizzed in, whereupon they began whispering anew.
From their incessant chatter, Gumpy learned that the gnomes, while fleeing the battle, were also doing a favor for the high elves in Felwithe. The high elves were concerned that the dark elves would overtake the city by keeping it besieged. They'd asked the gnomes to head to Neriak to stop any reinforcements from leaving, and in turn the gnomes appealed to the Kithicor rangers and the Leatherfoot's elite units for help.
"But what exactly are we going to do?" Gumpy asked one of the handful of gnomes left. "Why, it's easy-peasy!" laughed the gnome, patting his chest confidently. "You see, we gnomes know there's one way in and out of Neriak and that's the First Gate, right? So, we're going to take this mechanamagic device and..." At that unfortunate moment, an arrow struck the gnome and Gumpy learned nothing more about their mission.
"There won't be any gnomes left at this rate," Gumpy thought. "I wonder what he had in his pocket?" Slipping his fingers into the dead gnome's coat, Gumpy located a small jumble of sprockets -- or were they cogs? he could never remember -- and pulled it out. It looked interesting, but Gumpy wished it had been something like venison jerky instead.
"Here, I'll take that, son," the Sarge's whisper nearly caused Gumpy to leap out of his ivy-etched jerkin. The Sarge added, "Hopefully, we'll have at least one gnome left by the First Gate or we won't know how it's to go together. Come on, then!" All around them, Kithicor rangers emerged from the shadows of the trees, each grabbing a gnome by the scruff of its neck before disappearing again.
Books
Leatherfoot Tales: The Last of the Teir'Dal, Part Three This item can be placed on the floor in any house type.
This completed book can be placed in your house and read.
The Houndslayer, also called the Pathfinder, and his comrades take the First Gate and bring this tale to its conclusion.
The Teir'Dal guards peered this way and that into the wooded area in which Gumpy Nattoo, the Kithicor rangers and the Leatherfoot elite were hiding. Gumpy's tummy rumbling had excited their cat-like curiosity and left Gumpy cursing himself for not eating more at dinner the night before. When the dark elf guards came closer to the treeline, two of the rangers nipped out and grabbed them, bringing that danger to its close.
The units were gathered together and waited only for the Sarge's signal before swarming the First Gate. They had measured the defense of the area, located breaches in the security and planned accordingly. Gumpy dug in his pockets for some venison jerky, a hunk of bread or cheese to keep his stomach from growling again but found himself without a single snack. "Curses!" he muttered. At that moment, the Sarge gave the signal.
Pausing only to rifle the dead gnome's coat for any of the mechanamagical thing's parts, Gumpy found himself at the rear of the formation. He brandished his ivy-etched gladius menacingly and joined the fray. While their force was not particularly large, they had surprise on their side (thanks to the gagging of the remaining two gnomes) and were making mincemeat of the scant forces guarding the First Gate.
Gumpy located the Sarge and gave him the gizmo he'd found on the fallen gnome. "Thanks, Gumpy," the Sarge said, adding, "I haven't said nothing to you before now, but you're a good trooper. Glad the rangers took to you so well; we couldn't have done this without 'em." Gumpy blushed. His tummy rumbled.
The Kithicor rangers and Leatherfoot elite troops pushed further into the Foreign Quarter, easily overcoming the resistance. "Tis like slicing butter with a warm knife!" cried one of the rangers. "Why'd he have to say butter?" thought Gumpy miserably, wishing he could find something to eat. His stomach continued its dull roar and it was getting louder with every passing moment.
He fought alongside the Sarge, who was trying to make his way forward to the remaining gnomes. The mechanamagical thing had to be put together and only they knew how. Sniffing the air, the Sarge growled, "Gumpy! I told you to get rid of that nasty wolf tail; it's really starting to reek!" Gumpy glanced at his belt where the rangers had hung the dread wolf's tail as a trophy piece. It was gone.
"Sarge, I..." but Gumpy got no further as a louder rumbling shook the ground beneath their feet. The Sarge tottered for a moment then regained his balance. "Oh, for Bristlebane's sake," the Sarge grumbled, digging into his pocket and handing Gumpy a chunk of cheese. "Eat something; your stomach's gonna shake the world down around our heads." And then the Sarge spotted one of the gnomes and darted off, leaving Gumpy behind.
Gumpy knew that it wasn't his stomach making the ground shake. It wasn't the wolf's tail making the air stink, either. Whatever was going on, it was something else, something bad. Grasping his gladius, Gumpy headed after the Sarge. "Sarge! Sarge!" Gumpy called, but because his mouth was full of cheese it sounded more like, "Garg! Garg!" The Sarge did not turn around.
A tide of Kithicor rangers swarmed between Gumpy and the Sarge. Gumpy, peering through legs and around bellies, could see the Sarge had one of the gnomes by its ears and they were busily putting together the mechanamagical thing. The ground trembled, then roared. The rangers turned toward the Foreign Quarter's exit and Gumpy was swept along. "Sarge!" he hollered again, but knew that no one could hear him over the sound of the earth breaking.
Dust settled and Gumpy and the rangers looked toward what had been their battlefield. The mechanamagical thing had done its work and the exit from Neriak's Foreign Quarter was sealed, together with the soldiers that had been unable to make their escape. "That's the last of the Teir'Dal," said one of the rangers. Gumpy said solemnly, "Not the last of the Sarge, though. He's a tough one."
Books
Leatherfoot Tales: The Last of the Teir'Dal, Part Two This item can be placed on the floor in any house type.
This completed book can be placed in your house and read.
The Houndslayer and his comrades make their way through Nektulos Forest, encountering something unexpected.
The Kithicor rangers, the Leatherfoot elite and Gumpy Nattoo paused on the edge of Nektulos Forest. They had all heard the fireside tales of ash-filled trees dropping clouds of life-choking pumice on unsuspecting travellers. After conferring about their route, the ranger who had befriended Gumpy nodded toward him: "I say let the Houndslayer lead the way, for he is crafty and shall surely lead us unscathed through these perilous woods."
Everyone was quick to agree with the ranger, and they pushed Gumpy to the fore of the group. Gumpy had given up trying to explain himself to the admiring rangers, ever since that incident with the dread wolf. After being considered a bumpkin for most of his days, the adulation was rather pleasant. In fact, maybe the rangers were the only folk who saw his true worth! Gumpy's heart swelled with pride as he led the way.
Three days later, Gumpy heard one of the gnomes (they were being carried in rucksacks on the Kithicor rangers' backs) say, "I had no idea Nektulos Forest was this huge! I always thought it pretty small." Another gnome in another rucksack further away agreed. Gumpy heartily wished an ash-laden branch would break over the little chatterboxes' heads. They came to the edge of a clearing and stumbled into another group of Leatherfoot halflings.
The Sarge took over all the talking, never explaining why they were in Nektulos Forest, but apparently asking the way to Neriak. The Kithicor rangers frowned at the Sarge and one of them whispered to Gumpy, "Has he no shame, to stop and ask for directions thusly? Your way is much better, for it confounds those who would follow us. I name you 'Pathfinder,' friend."
It seemed rather odd to Gumpy that the Kithicor rangers kept "naming" him, yet none of them ever gave out their own names. He'd asked a couple of them, but they merely laughed and said that the Kithicor rangers left their names behind with their families. An odd group, but Gumpy was getting used to their peculiar ways. Whatever strange habits they had, there was one thing for certain: they were generous in sharing their rations.
One of the Leatherfoot scouts they'd found camping in Nektulos Forest accompanied them the rest of the way through. "There's that river again," Gumpy heard one of the gnomes comment from the protective covering of its rucksack. At that moment, in accordance with Gumpy's earlier wishes, the branches of the tree above it cracked and poured thick ash and pumice on its head. Unfortunately, the ranger carrying the gnome did not survive either.
"We're down to three gnomes," the Sarge grumbled. His rucksack bulged with the array of sprockets, gears and flizgigs taken from the deceased gnomes along the way. "One of these little fellows has got to make it to the First Gate or we won't know how to put their mechanamagical thing to work." The Kithicor rangers concurred and decided to gag the gnomes to keep them silent for the remainder of the journey. Gumpy was not alone in his glee.
Dawn the next day found the Leatherfoot elite and the Kithicor rangers within spitting distance of the Foreign Quarter. They could see (and smell) the trolls that inhabited the sector. A dark elf patrol wandered close by and Gumpy was very glad he had the ivy-covered gladius given to him by the rangers at hand. These dark elves looked particularly fierce.
A rustling from the nearby brush caught the attention of both dark elves who turned quickly on their heels in one coordinated, fluid motion. Gumpy could swear he saw their pointed ears prick up like a cat stalking a mouse. One of the gnomes, inexplicably out of its rucksack, stumbled out of the woods pulling the gag from its mouth. Barely had it said, "Whew!" when the dark elves surrounded it and sliced it to ribbons.
Now they were down to two gnomes. No one else among them knew how to put together the mechanamagical device meant to ensure no dark elves reinforced the forces attacking Felwithe. Things were looking mighty grim. At that unfortunate moment, Gumpy's stomach gave a loud and irritated grumble. The dark elves stopped stabbing the fallen gnome and pricked up their ears again. Gumpy pushed on his gut with his free hand and thought, "Whoops."
Books
Life Among the Goblins This item can be placed on the floor in any house type.
This is a mastery tome. Use the knowledge contained within to gain a basic understanding of the tactics to use against the chosen foe.
"Life Among the Goblins," by Trent Burkhart -- One man's journal describing the day-to-day activities of a typical goblin tribe. Appendix by Pearl Honeywine.
Goblins abound throughout Norrath, yet it has been extemely difficult to get close enough to them for good observation. I, Trent Burkhart, will infiltrate a goblin tribe in order to understand what makes them so vile and obnoxious. My first step is to tint my body a vile shade of green, shave off my hair and manufacture a loincloth. Wish me luck!
Day One -- Goblins. The mere sound of the word brings to mind these shapeless, mindless creatures.
I have tinted my skin using an extract from a local plant and am wearing a loin cloth that I obtained from a deceased goblin.
By walking with a bow-legged slump, I can create the illusion of having the typical pot belly. There is not much I can do about my ears, however after shaving my head, I left a fringe around my temples to comb over the tips of my rather smallish ears.
This will have to do.
Day Three -- I am currently with the goblins of Runnyeye, in the Enchanted Lands. Thankfully, it is dark enough that no one questions my lack of appropriate ears.
The goblin language is guttural and coarse. I have picked up enough of it that I can make the appropriate responses when necessary, though I would rather not speak to these foul, stench-ridden beasts.
Why I chose to research goblins is beyond me!
Day Four -- I've stumbled into something interesting and need to figure out its significance.
Otherwise, my days are becoming somewhat monotonous. The evil eyes have used their mystical powers to enslave a variety of creatures to work on behalf of the goblins.
It is interesting to note that in prior Ages, the goblins were themselves enslaved! Now the former slaves are the masters, and as I am trying to fit in with the goblins, I have much leisure time on my hands.
Day Seven -- Have I really been here for seven entire days?
Between sneaking through corridors and foraging up acceptable food, I have found some written records. At least, they are as much of a written record as one might expect of these low-lifes.
There are many pictographs and symbols which I am copying down into my journal. Even if I don't decipher them in the next few days, I shall bring this record with me to my home and work on it there.
Day Eight -- Something interesting happened, finally!
About a dozen or so goblins, looked like a group of Runnyeye brawlers, set out on a foray and brought back a handful of minotaurs. The minotaurs seemed rather spellbound and very docile at first, but then one of them broke free of whatever control the goblins had and rampaged through the area, killing several of the brawlers.
The minotaur was eventually surrounded by the goblins' war boars and taken down.
Day Ten -- After pouring over the various pictographs, I believe I've deciphered the goblins' tome!
There are several references to the entities of the ancient times, notably Bolgin and Brell Serilis.
While it's not clear what these tomes mean, I find it fascinating that...wait...someone is coming.
Day Thirteen -- I've been dispatched with a company of other goblins to the Citadel.
I do not know what our purpose there might be, but it was made very clear to me that I am expected to remain there for some time.
With any luck, I'll be able to ditch these filthy tunnelers and head home with my research complete. I've finished translating the goblin origins document and just need a quiet hour or two to set it all down. Unfortunately, the Citadel is much busier than the tunnels ever were and I am constantly sent hither and yon.
Day Sixteen -- It's really quite a pleasure to have purpose in my life again.
While in those dark tunnels, the days passed slowly because I had nothing to do but wander about lazily, like a goblin. It appears that they realized early on that I was not one of their own, but they were happy to have my company.
Indeed, that is why they sent me to the Citadel, so I might be able to do some research in more comfort.
Perhaps I've been mistaken about these pleasant little fellows all along.
Day Twenty -- Busy, busy, busy! That describes my life at the Citadel!
I'm in constant demand and it feels great! While I have no time now to dwell upon the possible deeper meaning of the goblin pictographs, frankly, I could not care less!
Who cares where these friendly folk came from or whether they have language skills? It's good to be busy all day long, rather than wonder what would happen should they discover my ruse.
I am quite enjoying my new job cleaning out the muck in the war boar stables.
Appendix, by Pearl Honeywine -- While in the Enchanted Lands, I found these notes which degenerated from intelligent discourse into random drawings and ideograms.
It seems that the evil eyes had gotten hold of our researcher's mind and managed to change a promising anthropologist into a raving mad slave.
Alas for goblin research! At least our friend Master Burkhart will die happy and unaware of what he has lost.
Books
Local Color - Halas This item can be placed on the floor in any house type.
A competent bookbinder is a valuable resource who can restore any book that's had pages removed.
"Man or Beast: the Drolvarg" By Larinia Thistlemore Edited by Bellor Heartsbeck
Editor's Note This tome dates from before the Cataclysm. It is written by a human woman who traveled to Firiona Vie and had a rare look at the inner workings of the Drolvarg. Though it is hard to say what may have changed about them in the recent tumultuous passing of time, there are still important insights to be taken from the text What is the link between human and Drolvarg? To what extent does humanity carry weight of responsibility? The text addresses these issues in an astoundingly frank manner.
By the hand of Larinia Thistlemore In traveling to Kunark, I knew I was embarking upon a rare adventure. I thought the elves of Firiona Vie incredibly kind in allowing me to establish a base of operations in their fort from which to study the local flora and fauna, and expressed to them my gratitude daily. The elves warned me of the danger brought about by the Drolvarg, but I naively assumed them to have no interest in harassing a simple researcher.
So long as I didn't threaten their territory, I would not be a target of their violence. How very wrong I was. It was my second day of study that they found me. The first day had passed rather uneventfully, and I had filled pages with sketches and observations of the many new species and variants I had come across. It was only a few hours into the next thy, but I was growing frustrated with not finding anything new So I pressed in deeper, moving further away from Firiona Vie.
The elves had warned me to stay close so that I could run to the safety of the fort's walls if anything went awry, but I wanted to find some of the fabled variants this continent was said to possess. I had heard, though I now long regard as a story, of a ferm the turquoise shade of a clear ocean on a sunny day that was larger than an elf and sometimes thought to snack on them, and of many other similarly aberrant varieties of plants and animals.
Searching for such fables, I went far beyond the line of safety, and though it should have come as no surprise that when I looked up from studying a peculiar colored lich, I found myself surrounded, it still did. And I still screamed quite wonderfully. But who could hear such a scream? I was miles from Firiona Vie. Only my captors heard them, and it elicited nothing but some hoarse, guttural breathing I can only assume was laughter.
I then froze completely. What else should I have done, The tallest of them stood more than three feet taller than me, and even the shortest stood was well more than a foot and a half above me. I was armed only with a pair of short swords, and though I was not an incapable fighter, I would never call myself a warrior. I threw myself to the ground. supplicant, and begged for their mercy. It was mercy, truly, that they didn't kill me.
Instead, I was bound and dragged to their encampment There I was bound tighter still and left prone. I awaited, terrified, for my fate. In time, one of them, a scrawnier one wearing mismatched armor came to my side and fed me some gristly meat and water. I was surprised that he was not altogether rough with me, making sure the food actually found its way into my mouth and even sitting me upright for the whole thing. I thought perhaps I had something of an ally, as much of one as I could hope for, at any rate.
I managed to exchange a few words with him. He was the lowest of the lowest peons in the camp, which is why he was commanded to deal with me. From just a few vague observations, it seemed to me that they were regimented very severely. Simply the way they carried themselves and interacted suggested a stark hierarchy. I picked out ranks such as "Ravishers" "growlers" and "gnawers," and all spoke with reverence about their General.
It spoke volumes of what they thought of me that their lowest ranked individual should be given the unwanted task of seeing to me. Still, I was encouraged at his willingness to converse with me and his thoughtful manner. More and more, watching their organization and interactions, I began to recognize things. I remembered a rumor I had once heard, that the Drolvarg were in fact lycanthropes, a creature that is both dually human and wolf, and began to believe the truth of it.
The Drolvarg that came the next day and the day after that to feed me were not so kind as the first. They shoved the food in my mouth roughly and didn't seem to even glance at whether it stayed. The water was mostly spilled upon my face, and they kicked me if I coughed or even really made any sounds. I began to grow weaker from hunger and thirst and the beatings only hurt more. Finally, on the fifth day, my first Drolvarg returned.
He once again treated me well, and for the first time since in days, the world stopped spinning as I took in sustenance. Looking upon my sympathetic captor, I couldn't help but see something there that felt very familiar, and that sense of humanity returned. I decided to be bold, staking everything on appealing to that humanity. "Your people," I said finally, "were you once lycanthropes? Men and wolves mixed?"
I knew my mistake immediately. With that, ge growled and his eyes went cold. I shrunk back, not quite knowing what l had done. "We have no connection to your weak race," he snapped at me. "We are Drolvarg. Not human. Innoruuk created us as we are in the image he wished for us." With that, he threw my remaining food on the ground. And with that, I lost the only ally I had in that place. But fortunately, within a week I was finally rescued.
I thought the elves would have disregarded me completely. They had warned me, I hadn't listened, and that was my fate. But they tracked me to this spot and assaulted the group of Drolvarg. After a long battle, the remaining Drolvarg fled. When they released me, I could barely stand, and so they made me a litter and carried me back. As we were leaving the camp, I saw my Drolvarg ally among the bodies. I couldn't help but feel a twinge of sorrow. Even later as they loaded me, still not fully healed, on a boat for Qeynos.
One would think I'd have emerged from this quick to declare them beasts, to denounce any link some may speculate they have to humanity, but with what I have seen of humanity, I am not so sure. We all have in us the capacity for brutality. Man and beast alike. The only difference between a man and a beast is man is his awareness of this capacity and the subsequent formation of personal identity. Our identities justify our actions, our brutalities.
My captors were aware of themselves, and of their actions, and whether or not they were once tied to the race of men, they are, without a doubt, humanoid. They are not beasts, because they know what they do, and they do it for their own reasons; regardless of whether or not I can understand them. Does this mean I forgive them, No, beasts can be forgiven because they don't know what they do, but humanoids bear responsibility for their actions. Their humanity only makes them all the more culpable.
I have not yet returned to Kunark, but I plan to some day, so that I may finish my research - provided the elves will let me. Should I be allowed back, I will go far better armed and prepared to deal with cunning humanoids, not monstrous beasts. Anyone preparing to fight them should understand that they are clever and brutally militaristic.
They sometimes trade with others for weapons and armor, but use almost exclusively bronze weapons and armor of their own, wicked designs. On the battlefield, as in all they do, they are in complete control. These lessons I carry with me, and would pass on to any others who may encounter them.
Books
Mayong's Cruelty: the Drachnids This item can be placed on the floor in any house type.
This is a mastery tome. Use the knowledge contained within to gain a basic understanding of the tactics to use against the chosen foe.
"Mayong's Cruelty: the Drachnids" From the diary of Najena, Teir'Dal sorceress.
It was in the beginning of the apex of my career of sorcery when I accomplished what I still believe to be my prize achievement. They were beautiful beasts with carapaces that gleamed so black they seemed to be cut of obsidian, multi-faceted eyes that could see in dimensions my Teir'Dal servants could not even begin to comprehend, and they were many hundreds, possibly thousands, of times the size of their much smaller cousins: the black widow spider. They were beautiful, deadly, and my creations.
Once I had discovered the secret of raising these magnificent beasts, I sent some as gift to those I admired. Among these individuals was Mayong Mistmoore. Seeking to curry his favor, and to let him know exactly how capable of a sorceress I was, I sent him one as a gift. Imagine my surprise when he sent it back, irrevocably changed. And my poor emissary, L'Dalt, butchered for his experiment.
What had left as two different beasts returned as one. He had grafted the head and torso of L'Dalt onto the body of the spider, and the two walked as one. L'Dalt's personality and memories seemed to have been lost in the shift, but his cunning and magical powers were still there - capable of being carried to and utilized wherever the body of that spider could take him. It was a truly formidable combination.
I couldn't help but feel a hint of amazement and respect for Mayong's ingenuity. At the same time, however, he had stolen my design and used it to his own ends. The thank you note he sent, "Thank you for supplying Mistmoore with suitable raw ingredients for true servant", mocked me. I vowed to learn all I could of these creatures and create something better. I studied these creatures, which came to be known as Drachnids, after Mayong began to release them into Norrath in packs.
They settled into small, neatly organized colonies. The young males spun the webs, and the young females caught food for the nests. The business of the mature males was always elusive. They seemed to be carrying out orders, possibly of Mayong's, but to what ends? I could never tell. The mature females fought for dominance in the position of nest matriarch. These Widows fiercely protected their station and killed the younger females that might challenge them. It all had a beautiful simple design to it. Mayong was truly a genius.
My studies ended when I was discovered. Trapped in their webbing for days, I nearly went mad from hunger and thirst and finally, out of a purely desperate attempt to live, I managed to use my magics to get free. I evaded all who pursued me, though I know I am truly only alive today because I never had to contend with any mature Drachnids, and hid beyond their borders.
Before I was to truly escape, however, I confronted Mayong. He seemed to be waiting for me, on the edge of their territory, and his face was without pity, or humor as I approached. I outlined what had happened, expecting, well, I am not sure what, but something from him. He, however, only coldly acknowledged that his creations seemed to be establishing themselves well and learning to act together.
When I told him exactly how offended I was that he cared not for what had nearly happened to me, he merely stared at me and informed me that the only reason he had called off the mature Drachnids was because I had played a small role in their creation. I felt foolish then, incredibly so, for imagining he would be angry at his creations for capturing me. If anything, it was a testament to their prowess, and had doubtless pleased him. He told me then that my boon had been expended,
and that I should not lurk around their nests anymore. Next time I would not likely find so fortuitous a path to safety. Nearly every hour of every day, I think of something I should have done or said to prove to him that he had crossed the wrong sorceress, though the truth was I did and said nothing to him. I only ran away in a wash of emotions I do not care to admit to having felt. Once back within my own dominion however, I began to plot.
I designed newer, more ferocious creatures to match and surpass his own. He, I vowed, would feel that same fear and humiliation I had, and I would not rest until he had been shamed. I am still striving. I have created creatures from all manners and pitches of nightmares, but none seem to have quite such deadly perfection as those beasts.
I will find one though. It is only a matter of time. And then Mayong Mistmoore will regret what he did to me, and regret having ever made the Drachnids. *** By my blood, Tserrina Syl'Tor
Books
Memories of Misty Thicket This item can be placed on the floor in any house type.
This completed book can be placed in your house and read.
Many brave halflings fell defending Rivervale and the Misty Thicket from the Runnyeye goblins' assaults during the Age of War. This is but one of their stories.
The old folks often spoke of the days when they could take a picnic to remote spots in the Misty Thicket, enjoying the fragrance of flowers filling the air, the hum of bixies and bees searching for nectar and dappled sunshine filtering through the trees. These good old days had long since disappeared into a rosy past, for ever since Gemma could remember no one went out on picnics. The Runnyeye goblins and other more nasty things hunted in their woods.
The Runnyeye goblins had always been a problem for the halflings of the Misty Thicket. There had always been dangers scattered through the Thicket (which made Gemma suspect some of the old folks' tales of picnics there were falsehoods), but a long wall kept the goblins at bay. Lately however, the goblins had gotten bolder and assaulted the wall repeatedly, causing parts of it to almost crumble faster than the halflings could repair it.
Some of Rivervale's residents talked of fleeing to one of the bigger cities. They were at nearly the halfway point between Freeport and Qeynos, so folks gathered in the taverns to debate the merits of moving to one or the other. Halflings loved a good debate, but they preferred their topics to be more esoteric such as whether it was colder today than it had been the prior day. They did not enjoy the thought of leaving their beloved homeland.
"We can still get in and out through Kithicor," more than one person would say stubbornly. Still, unsettling news was trickling in from that quarter as well. A large army of ogres had risen in Oggok far to the south. To the northwest, orcs and goblins under the banner of the Hordes of Inferno were attacking barbarian villages and towns. It was harder and harder to be upbeat and cheerful when the news from outside was so dismal.
Gemma Pathfinder belonged to the Leatherfoot Brigade as her family had for generations. The unit to which she belonged was a part-time unit whose most distinguished moment in history occurred when a load of hogs bound for the market escaped their owner and Gemma's unit was dispatched to round them up. Since that incident, they were nicknamed the Hog Dodgers, which while not very flattering had been good for a round of drinks before times got so dark.
The Hog Dodgers were now called up to full-time patrolling of the Misty Thicket's southern border. When not actively patrolling, they helped rebuild and reinforce the ancient walls that separated them from the Runnyeye goblins. As the days passed it seemed that more and more of their time was spent repairing the wall. Gemma wondered how much longer they would need to keep up the pretense that a wall of stones, lathe and plaster could keep out invaders bent on their destruction.
Rivervale's leaders were in a quandary. If they advocated leaving, they were accused of not having faith in their own army. If they said everyone should stay, they were considered to be unaware of what was going on in the world. When election time came, several halflings from different factions got into a fist fight that erupted into bloodshed and violence. In their own town, in Rivervale! The world was definitely not the same place the old folks remembered.
Gemma pondered these unhappy events. She'd never been particularly political but that halfling would turn on halfling in the city streets just went to show....what? That they were all violent beings after all? That they were scared? That they were angry? All of these things? She wheeled a load of rocks to the wall and felt discouraged by the futility. How could a wall keep out the world anyway?
"They're coming through!" hollered one of the guards at the gate in the wall: "They're co--!" Gemma dropped the handles of the wheelbarrow and unsheathed her short swords. She paused for a minute in confusion, looking first to the left then swinging quickly to her right. The shouts came from all around her now and she did not know which way to run. As with the elders facing election, her mind went both ways: run away and stay to fight.
"For Rivervale!" she cried, the side of her wanting to cleave the briskets of the goblins winning over the part that wanted to hide until it was over. She ran toward the direction from which the battle sounded the loudest and ground to a halt, staring in horror at the sight before her. Entire sections of the wall had been pushed over to either side of the gate and pouring through the wider opening were legions of goblins and orcs.
Books
Mistmoore Researcher's Logbook This item can be placed on the floor in any house type.
This bound tome bears the seal of Mayong Mistmoore on its cover. It appears to be the writings of one of the vampire researchers that are working to help unlock the mysteries of the runes that Mayong has been searching for. It contains written notes and diagrams of the researcher's investigations.
Mayong has finally unearthed the calendar. It is a ring, which contains sixteen holes across its surface. These smaller holes are inset, and appear to be meant to hold something else within them, although what exactly would be anyone's guess. It resists any attempt at magical inspection, and just seems to be completely mundane in all respects - nothing more than ordinary stone. I'm not sure what value it might actually have, but Mayong is quite pleased that we now possess it.
Upon further inspection of the ring, we have found that it appears to be intended to fit around the outside of the Chelsith Stone itself. It's almost as if it was intended to be a part of the stone, but since Mayong is not currently in possession of the Stone itself, it's difficult to verify. He seems unconcerned, however, and is more interested in finding out what it is that belongs in the holes within the ring. We found some strange sigils on the walls within Chelsith, and he believes that these sigils might have something to do with the "monoliths" of Theer. Several of our number have been dispatched to begin their search, but a search for what?
We returned from the expedition today, and I was amazed at what we discovered. It appeared that the large stone we uncovered contained one of the sigils Mayong was looking for. Moreover, it had the correct dimensions and curvature to fit within the holes in the ring. Mayong is certain to be pleased with this news, and will likely reward us handsomely. We are heading to the chamber now where the calendar sits, although it would be wise to wait for Mayong to be present before taking any steps to affix the newly discovered stone in place.
So, a new mystery. The sigil stones we brought in have a strange behavior when brought in close to the calendar. Some will glow slightly when brought in contact with specific holes on the calendar ring, while others seem to be completely inert. Are these fakes? Have they lost whatever magic they had once possessed? All of this made more strange by the fact none of these pieces radiate any magic. It's maddening and fascinating all at the same time, but discovering the reasons behind this behavior of the sigil stones is likely the key to unlocking the purpose of the ring altogether. It is imperative that we do so, and do so quickly.
Books
More Adventures of Jorbo and Mappy This item can be placed on the floor in any house type.
This completed book can be placed in your house and read.
This book is titled "More Adventures of Jorbo and Mappy ". It is the story of two halfling boys and how they happened upon some exciting adventures.
Jorbo and Mappy, two friends who left for an exciting journey one day, happened across a very interesting person. Looking just like a halfling, the man had lizard scales covering his entire body, and two small little horns sprouting from the top of his head. He was chewing on a small wooden stick, and would puff smoke between words. Interested at their discovery, the friends asked him if the man knew where to find adventure.
Laughing and puffing smoke, the odd halfling introduced himself as the Drafling. He said he knew many different places where to find adventure, and offered to show the two boys where to find it. Taking him up on his invitation, both Jorbo and Mappy followed him to adventures they never would have found on their own.
The first interesting thing the Drafling showed the two boys was a goblin who could speak three languages. The two boys asked the goblin how he was able to do it, and the goblin pointed out that he had three tongues. When they asked where they could find more tongues, the goblin told them that tongues always hid away inside books.
The goblin then offered to trade tongues with the boys. They boys had become rather accustomed to their own tongues, so they declined. The goblin nodded his head and told them that if anyone ever asks them for their names, they should never give it away. He said that if you give a person your name, you won't have one anymore, and you won't know what to call yourself. They knew this was wise advice.
The Drafling patted the boys on the shoulders and said it was time to go. He had already finished eating the stick he was chewing on and was now chewing on another. The Drafling told them that he would now show them other exciting sights. They told the goblin "thank you", asked him his name, and the goblin said "I don't know anymore".
The Drafling would then take the boys to a grove of trees and told them to watch for what was about to happen. In front of them, there were really small people walking around. One group was a bunch of girls, and the other group was a bunch of boys. Every now and then one of the boys would run over and pull one the girls hair, then run back to his friends.
The two friends began to laugh at the sight before them. The Drafling popped them on the back of the head and told them to keep watching. After several more girls were made to cry after having their hair pulled, the little boys started laughing so hard that they didn't notice a cat had crept up behind them.
As the cat crept closer and closer, the little girls refused to say anything, for they had their hair pulled by those mean boys. Soon enough, the cat pounced on all of the little boys, causing them all to scream for their mothers. Right at the moment it's mouth was about to gobble up all the boys, the Drafling waved his had, and the cat disappeared.
The two friends asked the Drafling what had just happened. The Drafling smacked his head and sighed, then told them that he showed them what happens when people are mean. He looked at them, chomped on the stick for a moment, and said not to pull the girls hair or maybe they might find a big cat standing behind them. The boys quickly nodded their heads, for they understood that.
The Drafling then told the boys that they would need to find their own adventures, for it was time that he went home. He brought them back to where he found them and said goodbye. Before he left, however, he told them of a few places where they could find some interesting things, gave them a wink, and was gone. Jorbo and Mappy immediately started running for the place where the mysterious halfling had pointed out.
Books
Motor Commotion all for Emotion This item can be placed on the floor in any house type.
This is a mastery tome. Use the knowledge contained within to gain a basic understanding of the tactics to use against the chosen foe.
There once was a man. An old tinkering gnome who has no child, nor wife of his own.
Mathematics and functions they did fill his mind. Experiments and gizmos took all of his time.
Lonely he was, so he thought to himself, "I will make me a man, a gnome or an elf! He will be out of metal, sprockets and gears. He will be my companion and helper for years."
He did as he said, and made the dear lad. a round little figure that jostled a tad.
He was good to his creator, and did all he asked. "Grease this; Carry that," the clockwork was tasked.
No grudge did he carry, for he had no emotions. This was a man of springs, cogs, and some potions.
But one day he spotted with his little receptor, A mad little gnome make the rudest of gesture.
"What drives such a man to shout and to flail?" he asked his master upon recounting the tale.
"Anger is a feeling, like joy, sorrow or passion. They are good in degrees, but bad in substation. They can make a sane man crazy with time, but make life worth living with every clock chime."
"I lack these emotions. I am not complete," the metal lad thought, as if on repeat.
To the merchant he went rather lickety-split. "I'm to purchase emotions, Mister Crandle Z. Flint."
The merchant just laughed, and set the boy right. "You can't buy emotions. Now have a good night."
"But what could I do if I wanted a set?" "You could pray to the gods, and see what you get."
He did as directed. He asked all he could for the full set of feelings - the bad and the good.
He prayed upon Brell. He prayed upon 'Bane. Tunare, even Marr, they answered the same.
Metal he stayed. All wheel and spindle. A bucket of bolts. No emotion to kindle.
"Gods of the men made of flesh and the bone, cannot comprehend needs of metal and chrome," the clockwork decided while deep in his thought. "There must be another. Another not taught."
Men may have called it a crisis of faith, had he a soul to be sucked by a wraith.
He was just looking for parts that he lacked. He wanted to be full, complete and exact.
This would go on as he did all his work. There was not a time that a chore he did shirk.
Then came the dark day coming back from a trek, his master's nice house was aflame and a wreck.
Around the debris stood gnomes stricken with fears. Some moaning, some shrieking, all covered in tears.
He gave it no though. He gave it no pause. He ran in determined. He ran in with cause!
There was his dear maker slumped under a chair. With a lift and a hoist, he took every care to deliver his master away from the flame while men of emotion felt sorry and shame.
They had been too afraid to act as he had, to run into danger that was sure to be bad.
That's when it struck him, a bolt to the head. Maybe these feelings aren't as good as all said.
"Listen inside you," goes an old gnomish saying, "When questions and figures are heavy and weighing, with cosigns and fractions your head it does spin. You'll find that the answers, they come from within."
"I need no emotion. My mind I can settle. I am, what I am. A man out of metal. Within me are gears. They roll and they turn. They drive me they do, as they twist and they churn. Feelings for men, and metal for me. I am then complete, and as whole as can be!"
He finally felt peace with this grand little notion, perhaps even happy, if he has such emotion!
Books
Myths of the Mephlin This item can be placed on the floor in any house type.
This is a mastery tome. Use the knowledge contained within to gain a basic understanding of the tactics to use against the chosen foe.
I have collected a few tales from Norrathian bards and entertainers, involving the mephlin. They might prove helpful in understanding these creatures, or perhaps I will find that they are simply tales meant to delight or frighten with no basis in reality. Only time will tell!
Chief of the Tribe
"Long live the chief!" his fellow mephlin shouted, triumphantly, over and over again. It rang his ears and gnashed his teeth. Even if it hadn't been echoing off the walls of the obsidian cave they marched through it would have felt just as oppressive to Hukt. "What has Resz done that is so great?" He mumbled to himself. "I am much smarter and would make a much better chief!" He knew not to voice this last statement, but it didn't stop him from thinking it. They were just returning from a successful raid of a neighboring tribe, and Resz had once again walked away with the most impressive prize.
Sometimes the prize was a stolen weapon, ripped from the hand of the enemy, other times it was a totem revered by the enemy's tribe, but usually it was a head, or horn, or wing. This is how Resz kept his figurative crown, of course, for this jopal tribe had long picked its leaders based upon their successes in war and trophy hunting. "How does Resz keep getting the good stuff?" he asked himself, while glaring at the ruby-handled dagger being flaunted about by Hukt. He brandished it, like a torch or a war banner, waving it about, while leading the tribe back to their lands.
Hukt went to his nest that night, unwilling to think of anything else. At some point during the night the answer came to him. Resz is lucky, but his luck will be no match for Hukt's smarts during their next raid!
Weeks went by before Resz marched the tribe to their next raid, which gave Hukt plenty of time to prepare. He carried with him an inconspicuous pouch, nothing that would spark questions. During the heat of battle, while so many were distracted, he cast a spell upon an ordinary stone. Then he waited. He waited until Resz came out of the thick of the fight carrying a golden shield, eliciting the predictable "Ooohs" and "Aaahs" from his fellow jopal.
"Wait until they see this!" Hukt thought. He let out a scream of excitement that brought all eyes upon him, and as he lifted the luminous gemstone above his head, the din of his kin subsided. It had worked! The tribe was in awe of his trophy. The gem was bigger than his head, and dazzled with light reflected and focused by its exquisite cut. "Long live the chief!" they began to chant. Finally, Hukt was about to get the adoration he deserved!
Resz approached Hukt in shock. He dropped the shield that just a moment before had been the focus of all. "This is it! This is the moment I have long known would come!" Hukt thought, as a smile he could no longer contain, spread across his face. Resz stood before him now, and took the gem into his own hands with such care one would have thought it a hatchling. He examined the gem, looking deeply into it, turning it this way then that, dazzled by the display of light through it. Hukt looked up as this was happening, towards Resz's towering figure. He was standing so close to Hukt as the light of the gem was shining in his eyes, Hukt never saw what happened.
Resz brought the gem down upon Hukt's skull with such force, it split bone and flesh, killing him instantly. It was an easy enough feat for Resz, as he was the biggest, and strongest of the tribe. He wiped the gore from the coveted gem, and held it high for all to see. The shouts broke out immediately, "Long live the chief! Long live the chief!"
A Mother Earns Her Wings
Brena woke with a start. That sound wasn't normal, and she knew it. The dwarven mother raced to her infant's cradle. The babe didn't look upset, and it was still wrapped in its blanket, but that sound... She hadn't dreamt it! Should she call a healer? No, she knew what he would say. "You're worrying over nothing. First-time mothers do that." And admittedly the babe seemed fine. She took a breath, and felt a bit calmer as she looked upon her baby's sweet face. She couldn't have described the peace and hope that welled up inside her since this little one came into her life.
Maybe the babe didn't need reassuring right now, but Brena did. She lifted the wrapped infant tenderly, but found that it took more of her strength than she remembered when she had put the babe to sleep. "Oi! I didn'a feed ya that much!" She adjusted her weight to accommodate, as she cradled the babe to her breast. "Or 'ave ya been sappin' me strength, my little stone?" That's when she noticed a bit of moss in her baby's hair. She looked down into the cradle and saw a few more strands glowing brightly, from within the shadowed bedding. "Lightmoss!? I haven'a been ta those caves in years." What was going on!?
Brena looked at the near-by window of her hut. There she spotted more of the luminescent moss. She looked again at the babe in her arms. Its eyes opened and held hers for a moment. That was different. There was more to this baby dwarf than she could see. She felt her babe's skin. A dwarf knows stone when they touch it. "Switched!" The thought struck her like Brell's hammer! "Gods damn those green-winged beasts!" She cried. There wasn't a moment to lose! Brena swaddled the heavy babe to her, like a bandolier, allowing her arms to remain free. She grabbed her axes and helm, and ran out the door toward the lightmoss caves.
She had heard the warnings, of course. "Keep an eye o'er your babes, lest vekerchiki come and take 'em!" The mephlin were real Brena knew, but she had always thought the stories of child abduction to be tall tales. Now she knew otherwise, and she wasn't about to let those damned creatures take her wee one back to their earthen plane! She raced into the cave mouth, fueled by adrenaline and dwarven fortitude.
There she saw a group of vekerchiki, huddled together, as another waved its arms and chanted, opening a portal back to their realm. Brena had no time to spare, and no need for it. She continued barreling towards them, interrupting them with her axe heads. Their cries of pain and alarm were short, as was the battle.
She found her babe there, in the middle of the huddle, wrapped in large leaves and sound asleep. "Bless ya, Brell!" Tears rolled down her cheeks in sweet relief as she lifted her babe. Roused by its mother's touch, the wee one woke, and reached towards her face. She couldn't see much through the continuing tears, but she didn't need to. She knew the feel of her child's grip upon her beard. The babe curled her beard hair between its fingers and fell fast asleep.
Brena walked back to the village, her naturally born babe in one arm, asleep, holding tight to her beard, while a second babe, her adopted stone-golem child, remained swaddled tightly across her chest. From that day forward the two were raised as siblings, one of stone and one of flesh, warmed by a hearth over which hung a large pair of emerald wings.
Lessons of Flight
Not long ago now was a stormrider chick, hatched in a high nest of vine and of pitch.
So jealous it was of all of its kin, their feathers weren't clotted, their wings frail nor thin.
They rode on the wind, through clouds in the sky. It watched and it said, "I wanna' do that! I too, want to fly!"
It took a deep breath. It took a big leap. Nothing would stop it, it would accept no defeat.
But one cannot fly on hopes and a prayer, It takes magic or ability to soar through the air.
So, down the chick fell, right down to its end. Or it would have, if not for its strong gusted friend.
An elemental of air had noticed its plight, had seen its struggle, when it attempted its flight.
It caught the poor chick in its swirling embrace, and cleaned off its feathers, and tears from its face.
The pitch that had weighed its wings to the ground was no more a problem. There was none to be found!
The chick stretched about, giving its limbs a good test. Then lifted right off, to flit and flutter, right along with the rest.
The elemental took note of its friend's pure delight, doing something it had taken for granted, all day and all night.
It needed no thanks, expected no accolade, If tables were turned, it would want just the same.
A boost from a friend, or even a stranger, is all it might take to clear a path out of danger.
Books
Nektulos Creature Catalog This item can be placed on the floor in any house type.
As I catalog various flora and fauna, I can refer to this book.
Before the Rending, Nektulos often lay covered in pumice-laden clouds that obscured visibility. High winds, while rare, stir up exposed layers of ancient ash to redistribute them across the land. This area was formerly known as Nektulos Forest and is considered part of the former Teir'Dal empire.
Nektulos forms the northern half of D'Lere, separated from the Commonlands by the Razorrock Mountains. It is relatively easy to reach from Freeport, although the overland route is perilous. Off the shore of its western-facing shores lies the Neriuss Flow which is surrounded by the Tranquil Sea.
The skies of Nektulos are often hazy due to the fine ash that still drifts through its air. This blocks out much direct sunlight, keeping the region's weather relatively stable.
The air can feel stifling, however, so the few residents in the area tend to congregate near lakes or the seashore where slight breezes make living conditions more tolerable.
Much of the lowlands is covered by thick woodlands which thrive on the nutrient-rich soil. The hazy light means the plantlife is less dependent upon the sun for rejuvenation. Indeed, most of the flowers in Nektulos are night blooming specimens. The trees have developed a thick bark to withstand the weight of accumulated ash on their branches.
In the woodlands, one will find owlbears, treants and various insects.
There are places in Nektulos where remnants of a distant past still find their way to the surface. It is not uncommon to encounter skeletons and other less savory (yet more elusive) forms.
Books
Nektulos Creature Catalog This item can be placed on the floor in any house type.
As I catalog various flora and fauna, I can refer to this book.
Before the Rending, Nektulos often lay covered in pumice-laden clouds that obscured visibility. High winds, while rare, stir up exposed layers of ancient ash to redistribute them across the land. This area was formerly known as Nektulos Forest and is considered part of the former Teir'Dal empire.
Nektulos forms the northern half of D'Lere, separated from the Commonlands by the Razorrock Mountains. It is relatively easy to reach from Freeport, although the overland route is perilous. Off the shore of its western-facing shores lies the Neriuss Flow which is surrounded by the Tranquil Sea.
The skies of Nektulos are often hazy due to the fine ash that still drifts through its air. This blocks out much direct sunlight, keeping the region's weather relatively stable.
The air can feel stifling, however, so the few residents in the area tend to congregate near lakes or the seashore where slight breezes make living conditions more tolerable.
Much of the lowlands is covered by thick woodlands which thrive on the nutrient-rich soil. The hazy light means the plantlife is less dependent upon the sun for rejuvenation. Indeed, most of the flowers in Nektulos are night blooming specimens. The trees have developed a thick bark to withstand the weight of accumulated ash on their branches.
In the woodlands, one will find owlbears, treants and various insects.
There are places in Nektulos where remnants of a distant past still find their way to the surface. It is not uncommon to encounter skeletons and other less savory (yet more elusive) forms.
Books
Nektulos Forest, by Torq De'Rech This item can be placed on the floor in any house type.
This book was given to me by Torq De'Rech of the Order of Nektulos. It contains his first hand descriptions of the forest today and the forest of old.
When I first traveled this forest as a young dark elf I found many things fascinating. The weather here under the trees is mild and rarely changes. The air is stagnant and thick, festering with rotting life and the iron tinge of blood. Fog is prevalent, so one learns quickly to watch their step.
Nektulos Forest in the days of my ancestors was not half as dangerous as the Nektulos of today. The Nektulos of old was bordered by the Eastern end of the Commonlands, the Lavastorm Mountains and the great dark elf city of Neriak. There are rumors that the Lavastorm Mountains have been rediscovered and are in a much more dangerous state then the Lavastorm of old. There are still ruins of the old wizard spires deep in heart of the woods and ruined druid rings remain as well.
The old Nektulos was inhabited by far less species than today, but several of the old species have remained, becoming stronger through the cataclysm. The undead of old still roam, now joined by those who suffered in cataclysm. The shadowmen also remain. There were texts that were found in the ruins of Neriak that speak of worshippers of a strange god that lived in the forest, where they are today I cannot say.
The ancient dark elf city of Neriak was once protected from invaders by these woods. All the warriors knew these lands better than any interloper could ever dream of knowing them. Neriak was strong and fortified. The forest protected the entrance to the Foreign Quarter, which protected the entrance to the Neriak Commons. An invading force would have to fight through these regions before making it to the Third Gate. The Third Gate housed the training halls of the great warriors and mages. No force besides the cataclysm could have ever hoped to take on the might of the great city of Neriak. It is said that the ruins of the mighty city have been unearthed and explored.
The burial chamber of D'Morte has also been unearthed in the woods. It is told that the undead and vampires who reside within heed no visitors. As long as they remain beneath the ground the Order will not strike out against them. Let them feed on the weak; we have no other use for them. The biggest strength that the Order possesses is we know these woods as our ancestors did, none would survive challenging us here.
Books
Nerlug's Escape This item can be placed on the floor in any house type.
This is a mastery tome. Use the knowledge contained within to gain a basic understanding of the tactics to use against the chosen foe.
These are the words of Nerlug, Ogre, Gullybasher. I sit atop a tree, taking in the view, hoping that while I can see out of my leafy sanctuary, the Horde cannot see their way in. I put these words to paper because this place bears witnessing, and perhaps by organizing my though., I can find a way of truly escaping my pursuers. If I cannot, then at least I can rest knowing that someone is reading my words at this very moment. Rallos may get his due, but I will not be forgotten.
This Horde. They are aggressive, single minded, and for every one I slay, I find two more on my trail. Here in Ethernere, I should not be. The Horde do not want me in this place. In my death, I should go home, to the Plane of War, to Rallos' side. But forgive me, I fear. I am as terrifying in battle as my brothers, I have crushed skulls with my bare hands, but war for war's sake I cannot understand. I argued with my brothers. I used reason when they would use a blade. And for this lapse of faith I will pay. It seems that this Horde will not stop until I go home. Until I meet my maker.
I will not go willingly.
The orafik seem to be key. They sit there, motionless. They blink from time to time. They are always watching, these floating monstrosities of an eye. If I can evade them I can escape. I throw a rock, off to the side, away from my position. The three who float there pivot and scream. Oh do they scream. My ears bleed, and I try to sneak away during their distraction. I can hear the patter of the Skirth's violence through the underbrush. I move quickly, soft as my form will let me.
I am safe.
They have no language I can discern. Except for the screaming. The eyes scream and the others come running. That scream unnerves me. My heart beats too fast and I fear. Rallos must weep for me. They act in concert, as one. A single being, but multiple. They are organized, each has its role. Like an army, they have scouts and shock troopers and infantry and cavalry. I can fight one, two, three. I can smash them, and dismember them, and make them bleed.
But still. They come. Rallos may get his due.
Those dead at my feet, there are those who call them skirth. I do not know if they call themselves skirth. It is an appropriate name, for if you saw them move, if you heard them move, you might call them skirth too. Not quite quadruped, their limbs are ungainly, as much spider as ape. They are the footsoldiers of the Horde, but each has their specialty. They are legion.
There are beings who are not the Horde here. They are passersby, they are those who have not moved on yet, they are those like me. No one here is permanent, save for the Horde. While I can talk with these folk, and reason with them, and ask them questions, the Horde who Harrows indulge in no such thing. While these folk are transient, aimless, wandering, the Horde is purpose in the flesh, principal personified.
These folk do not want me here. I bring unwanted attention. The Horde has my scent, they can *feel* me, and the folk do not want me here. I leave. I do not want them to suffer my fate, for I begin to believe I cannot win. There is no loophole. The laws here are inevitable.
I am alone.
But that is a lie. I have forgotten what it means to be truly alone. How I long for it. Instead, they follow me, relentless. Always present, shadowy, as much there as not there. My recent follower; the tirun. They are the enforcers of the Horde, the two handed claymore, their machine of war. One of them is a match for me. Two can back me into a corner. At three, I run.
I can find no weakness in the Horde. I wonder if these are Rallos' true children. He would be as proud of them as he must be disappointed in me. If someone could harness them, remove them from Ethernere, they could trample the world. And yet, I do not think they hate. I simply should not be here, and so they will not stop until I am not here. It is not malice in their eye, it is determination.
A new one follows. This one is... familiar. It has arms, legs. It is more... formed. It could be described as humanoid. I am humanoid. It puts words into my head. It is like a general. It is like the Horde's head. It feels... sympathy? It makes it difficult to think. I may have fought him. Did I win?
Again, I run.
How long have I been here: My name... it is Nelug. I write it so I will not forget. I will not be forgotten. That name, is it still mine? No one calls it. It does not feel as if it belongs to me. I am Nerlug, but that is not me. I am hollow.
They follow now, but do not pursue. I am no longer whole. I grasp this book, and yet it falls through my hands. Writing is difficult. Thinking is moreso. I want to sleep. To rest. I wonder why they do not come.
The eyes no longer scream, at least.
I have read this book. I have read that my name was Nerlug. I have read that I was afraid.
Dear readers, know that this is no longer so. I have found my place. Know that Ethernere is not your home. You may rest here a while, but do not tarry. Continue on your journey or I will come for you. I will find you.
And if you will not go, we will take you.
Books
On the Origins of Shadowed Men This item can be placed on the floor in any house type.
This is a mastery tome. Use the knowledge contained within to gain a basic understanding of the tactics to use against the chosen foe.
"On the Origins of Shadowed Men," by Professor Romiak Justathorn -- Being an excerpt of a longer piece, including only information as is relevant these mysterious beings' origins. Much of this information is still hotly debated at the highest circles of academia. Afterword by Pearl Honeywine.
This excerpt is from "The Lore of Fauna" by Professor Romiak Justathorn of the Academy of Arcane Sciences, Republic of Freeport. The date of this particular volume is unknown.
An Overview -- The Shadowed Men are an intelligent planar humanoid of evil tendencies. They are secretly operating on a multitude of worlds.
They hail from a planar realm called the Void. They exist in a partial phantasmal state. They appear invisible at first and when attacking appear out of nowhere.
A weird portal opens and an eerie humanoid torso break through to attack. They use both magical weapons and spoken spells from their realm.
Their Origins -- Shadowed Men are first recorded to have appeared on Norrath in the Age of Turmoil.
Shadowed Men are beings of the Mana Flow that appear as near-invisible beings, wielding items usually visible indicating that they are not attempting to hide but rather are unable to fully materialize within our plane of existence.
Delusional trotters within the Freeport Infirmary have claimed to have journeyed to the Void and have returned with knowledge of the Shadowed Men?s existence within the Mana Flow, but in a corporeal state.
These Shadowed Men appear as humanoids with shaded blurry features and four arms. There is little knowledge of the Shadowed Men, but of all I know I have come to some conclusions as to their nature.
Shadowed Men hail from the Mana Flow. They appear globally and use a black obsidian monolith as means of entering our plane.
These Shadow Monoliths appear in any area with Shadow Man activity. When the Shadowed Man activity ceases, the monolith vanishes.
In further discussion with those few patients in the Infirmary I have deduced that the Shadowed Men have a citadel within our realm, one neither here nor there.
Any entering this citadel will find no activity. Within this citadel is a means of entering a pocket of their plane of existence and turning the citadel inside out.
Enter this pocket and all Shadowed Men and their true citadel shall appear before one's very eyes.
Shadowed Men have knowledge of many skills and hail from many of the known classes.
Known classes of the Shadowed Men include: Monk, Warrior, Priest and Dark Art Mages.
They also have special spells relating to the Mana Flow.
One spell shall partially swallow up an area into the Mana Flow and thereby by making all things touched by it invisible.
The items carried by these beings always dematerialize after a short time, sucked back to the dimension it is a part of.
The Shadowed Men on Norrath are here under the will of a greater power from their native plane.
They serve this unknown power in a search for something of great value upon our realm.
Afterword -- The information presented by the very eminent Professor Justathorn includes references to items that have not been proven to exist in modern Norrath.
Also, the modern reader must keep in mind that Professor Justathorn lived in a different era, one during which research such as his was quite wide-spread and thus may include concepts which were in vogue at the time but are perhaps lacking somewhat in the factual department.
In any event, there is no denying that stories of the Shadowed Men persist, and so any monolith, such as the one in the Feerrott, should be approached with extreme care.
Any information you may learn about Shadowed Men may be forwarded to me, Pearl Honeywine, for verification.
Books
One Last Voyage This item can be placed on the floor in any house type.
This is a mastery tome. Use the knowledge contained within to gain a basic understanding of the tactics to use against the chosen foe.
This is the story of the merchant ship 'Katya' and her owner's last voyage to Faydwer.
Supplies were running low everywhere. There were lines at the dock of noblemen and their stewards, tavern owners, hostesses, merchants and servants, all ready to pounce on whatever was coming off each ship. Merced nodded his head and rubbed his hands gleefully. The prices were shooting upwards as well and with one more crossing, he would be able to retire comfortably at last.
Merced had not always been a ship owner. His family had gone underground at the end of the Wars, emerging only when the chaos had subsided. His father had obtained a small ship at a modest price and so began their shipping enterprise. They mostly ferried passengers between Butcherblock and Freeport, but if the price was right, sometimes took trips through the Timorous Deep.
Now he was captain of the 'Katya' and of an age and mind to retire. Merced supervised the loading of the ship's hold himself. There had to be room for the contraband shipment of ale, after all, and it behooved him to know exactly where it would be stowed. A small tremor shook the port while they were still loading, loosening the plank leading to the pier and several precious boxes tumbled into the water.
"It's been that way this week," grumbled Virgil, the first mate. "I'll send someone to get them boxes." Merced nodded and said, "The sooner we sail the better. I don't like how the land's been groaning and moaning lately." As soon as the last box was packed aboard and the final bribes had passed hands, the 'Katya' was underway.
The winds picked up as they left the harbor. Merced retreated to the small office and spent time on his favorite task -- determining how much he would have at the end of the journey and what he could buy with his gains. Some days, it was a fleet of ships to sail while he stayed ashore, other days it was a villa with servants galore and his pick of the eligible daughters of Freeport. He was thinking about one particularly eligible lady when the waves came.
Being used to shipboard life, Merced knew that the swells were felt more deeply on the open sea, but these waves seemed unnatural. The ship rolled to the side then rolled back like a bell tolling. Merced could barely keep to his feet as he staggered across the small room to its door. When he opened it, he was surprised to see the sky still pale blue. The 'Katya' tossed about so fiercely, he was certain they'd run into a storm.
"No storm, sir," said Virgil grimly, gripping the wheel with both hands, assisted by the ship's boy to keep it turned. "Prexus ate something wrong, it seems; his belly's all a'churning." Merced looked across the water and all he could see were massive swells, one after the other. Then the 'Katya' moved into a trough and the waves towered above their heads, tipped with white foam.
"Damn it," cried Merced, pulling himself along a rail to reach the wheel himself. "Whatever's disagreeing with Prexus, I won't have the 'Katya' added to it. Take down the sail! This wind'll flip her over!" The crew scrambled to react to Merced's orders. The thrashing of the waves made movement difficult, even for these seasoned sailors. The 'Katya' was positioned, as best they could, so that she could slip sideways in the water without getting caught.
The 'Katya' was knocked over by a large wave, but she slowly righted. The crew remained below, listening to the groaning of the ship as the waves pushed the wooden ship from side to side. "We've ridden out storms before," Merced shouted to hearten them. And so they had, but nothing like these mysterious, enormous waves that came from nowhere.
Though the waves were fierce, the 'Katya' held together for a long time. Swept along with its torn sails aloft, a second ship rose over the waves, apparently without its crew. The seas drove it directly into the 'Katya,' punching a hole in her hull. The skies were still clear and blue as Merced fortified himself with the contraband ale before the 'Katya' broke completely apart.
Books
Orc Society This item can be placed on the floor in any house type.
This is a mastery tome. Use the knowledge contained within to gain a basic understanding of the tactics to use against the chosen foe.
"Orc Society" by Professor Romiak Justathorn -- Being an excerpt of a longer piece, including only information as is relevant to the study of orc society.
This tome covers only the societal aspect of the orc. This excerpt is from "The Lore of Fauna" by Professor Romiak Justathorn of the Academy of Arcane Sciences, Republic of Freeport. The date of this particular volume is unknown.
Orcs...dastardly beasts they are. They are a true threat to every civilized community that exists within the same regions.
They live for war and conquest. They have developed into a very skilled race in both the art of war and the world of trade.
As documented in early recounting of the great wars fought against these tyrants, they often employed weapons of similar designs to the great empires of the times.
These items of war shared a similar base design but were clearly of orc design. It would soon be learned that the orcs have been dealing in black market trade to procure designs of weapons of war.
Stolen designs and items from various empires soon filled the orc forges with undaunted activity.
The orcs now rely heavily on the engineering and architectural talents of other races, which they would somehow find a way to steal or buy.
All orc empires wish to rule the world, but they know that starts with a single step.
Once the call to war has been decreed, an orc empire will not relent the battle until death conquest or death of the empire is met.
Orc empires are a form of republic where leaders of units are the ones who decide who shall be emperor.
The Emperor is usually the finest warrior of his empire. He is always a hero who has lived through a great many battles. For this fact, orc emperors always have numerous battle scars and even a missing limb or two.
The emperor is always the fiercest one of the bunch.
The soldiers of orc empires are perhaps some of the finest and highly organized combatants to ever trod across a battlefield.
They fight to the death and never sway from the order of a superior. The orc soldier is a fearless soldier who was bred for battle since birth.
The orcs are all devout followers of the beliefs of Rallos Zek, but they have been visited by and learned of their direct relation to the god of tactics, Tallon Zek.
Tallon Zek is the first orc, supreme hero, lord of tactics, giver of conquest and it is he who gave a part of himself so that the supreme god of war, Rallos Zek, could deliver the orc race upon the surface of Norrath.
Rallos Zek deconstructed Tallon Zek and pulled from him the seeds that gave birth to the orc race.
Through visions and some claim divine presence, Tallon Zek has shared this knowledge with the orcs.
The orcs now have temples to Tallon Zek within their empire, while still honoring the true art of war- Rallos Zek.
Orcs have proven extremely adaptable throughout the Ages.
Knowing something of their ancient history may prove useful in our quest to keep orcs from recreating their vast empires of old.
After all, those who do not know their enemy are caught unawares when they can least afford it.
Books
Order Book: Blackshield Destroyer Saltspew This item can be placed on the floor in any house type.
Orders from the Blackshield Pirates shipwrecked on Chrykori Island.
This is a copy of the Blackshield Orders for the ship "Saltspew"
It is dated roughly two weeks ago.
From the bridge of Fleet Captain Shankstubble:
Captains, seadogs, wenches, cast-aways and swabbies, Our thirst for the riches only an empire can provide shall soon be quenched. We have, in Gorowyn, an opportunity to build that empire for ourselves. I have drawn up plans to take Gorowyn from the loathsome Sarnak. This will involve movement and coordination of all our ships.
The Saltspew, Prowspear, and Hullthrash will begin with a small scale attack two weeks hence. Once they have landed and established camp, our fleet shall push on their shores just as hard as any land army. When Gorowyn falls, our kegs shall spill over, and we shall use the dead Sarnak city as our own, creating a base of operations to train the largest nautical army ever seen on Norrath!
The remaining pages detail the attack plan for each of the many ships involved in this operation.
Books
Order Book: Blackshield Landing Party This item can be placed on the floor in any house type.
Orders from the Blackshield Pirates that have landed on Gorowyn Island.
This is a copy of the Blackshield Orders for the landing party on Gorowyn Island.
It has today's date.
From the bridge of Captain Boil:
All right you riff-raff, we've got sea legs, but we've lost our sand legs. The Saltspew never made it, we're unsure of her fate, Sarnak scouts have been harrying our encampments, we're running low on provisions, and our reinforcements aren't scheduled to land for another week at the least. We've got to make do with what we have, so here are your standing orders.
Establish and fortify encampments along the beach. Watch for Sarnak, as they have been showing up lately. Do what you can to acquire provisions, the chokidai meat can safely be eaten, I've allowed Blacktalon to spend his free time on Gorowyn Island gorging himself. Above all our goal right now is to hold out while we wait for reinforcements, but we must be productive. Shankstubble is not going to land more men if it looks like we're being decimated.
Fresh copies of these orders will arrive from my ship each day, and I expect daily status reports at the ready every time I come ashore. For now, Captain Redspit is in charge of all on land. Things may seem grim, but we're not licked yet.
Books
Order of the Frozen Wastes This item can be placed on the floor in any house type.
Disclaimer: While this work is based on fact, it is largely inference that has led to whatever conclusions are presented here. There was -- at one time -- an order of monks that trained (or perhaps lived) in Everfrost, but little is known beyond that. They did not call themselves the Order ofthe Frozen Wastes, that is merely my title for them. What little is known of them, however, still manages to capture our imagination.
For reasons unknown, the Order of the Frozen Wastes came upon Everfrost some time ago. It was there, in Everfrost's harsh conditions, that they created a training ground. A single training lieutenant, one Yentu, would serve as the task master. It is from Yentu's tasks that we get most of our knowledge about this mysterious order.
Four [known] students spent time training in Everfrost under Yentu's tutelage: Andara, Inle, Jaer and Shan Yeu. A fifth student became Yentu himself. Tasked out by one known as Tsu, Yentu would fulfill training contracts just as his students did. For each participant, even only from reading their training orders, one can get a sense of their growth.
Andara: Yentu had Andara train against arctic behemoths, bears, and wolves. Yentu's words to Andara were these: "...there are advantages to be held by being the right size [...] in the right situations," "...no spirit is as mighty as the bear [...] you may yet prove more cunning," "The wolves follow their instinct. You must now follow your training."
From Yentu's words we get the sense that Andara relied often on her size and instinct. To counter this, Yentu sent her against arctic behemoths and bears, so she would have to rely more on her training. And, to show her the shortcomings of instinct, he pit her against wolves. One hopes Andara learned to rely on her mind as much as her body.
Inle: Inle is the student we gained the most information about. Yentu sent her against primal frostfins, bighorn sheep, glacial constructs, resonating echoes and icegill goblins. Some of his words to her: "Match their speed, and overpower their viciousness," "Stamina is your weakness," "The purpose [...] is not to become cold and emotionless, but rather how to control [your emotions]," "don't let their stature deceive you."
From these words we can surmise that Inle had two main weaknesses: her stamina and her emotional state. Yentu attempted to stifle her emotional effect on her training. Further, he tried to stretch her endurance by pitting her against tough opponents. Finally, one can guess that Inle was small in form, and -- perhaps because of her emotions -- Yentu pit her against the goblins to prove that size is overcome with cunning in their case.
Jaer: Yentu sent Jaer to face arctic monitors, numbfoot hunters, and snow leopards. To Jaer he said: "The arctic monitors have the skin of discipline, though it is a natural feat [...] mimic them," "The hunting style of the numbfoot is sloppy, but contains wisdom beyond that," "learn from the snow leopard," "Stalk the snow leopards and learn their ways."
Yentu's orders suggest that Jaer -- while perhaps great at avoiding attacks -- could be defeated in training easily due to his inability to absorb blows. He then pit him against the thick skinned arctic monitors, to see their naturally thick skin and its worth. He then sent him against two of Everfrost's hunters: snow leopards and numbfoot hunters. Perhaps Yentu hoped Jaer would learn from the contrast between the two styles.
Shan Yeu: Shan Yeu's training placed him opposite ice frights, tundra terrors, and wooly spiders. To Shan Yeu, Yantu said: "The ice frights will provide an ample stepping stone for you. Fear not their pain," "The ability to wield fear [...] is a powerful gift," "Fear not their poison."
Yentu spoke often of fear in Shan Yeu's tasks. Perhaps most interesting is telling Shan Yeu not to fear the pain of his opponents. This suggests that Yentu saw Shan Yeu holding himself back, afraid to put forth too much effort. Shan Yeu was afraid of his own power.
Yentu: Yentu himself had a task given to him by Tsu. The message was this: "Motivation involves showing your strength. Grow the spirits of the others; defeat the frozen tempests." From this order, and from Yentu's orders, one gets the impression that the students did not fully appreciate Yentu's wisdom.
Tsu picked up on this and set Yentu to a task with his students. It is unknown the effect this had on the training, but given Yentu's apparent wisdom one would guess the lesson not lost to him.
Most items found were orders. Occasionally, however, small portions of what I believe to be this order's training manual have surfaced. Though it is impossible to get a full picture of a society from bits and pieces of their history, there are most certainly conclusions that can be made. Here are a few bits of wisdom that I especially prefer from the training manual.
"Fight not as object versus object, pit your mind and soul, too, against that object. Become the three pointed star." "And when asked 'is my training complete?' the Master only questioned, 'are you dead?' The student shook his head. 'That, too, is my answer,' responded the Master." "When he fought his opponent's shadow, he fought his opponent's mind. But as the shadow drew more and more of his attention, he was unable to comprehend what it was that cast that shadow. And, so, though he was stronger in mind, he was defeated in body."
It is unfortunate that we do not have more information on this order. History is always at that disadvantage. Some day we may get a further glimpse into the world of this unknown people, until then we must make do with what we have.
Books
Out of Necessity This item can be placed on the floor in any house type.
Written by a mysterious author, this book seems to detail early ratonga history.
The quaking had stopped. Those of us that were left took stock as well as we could, searching for survivors, and try to regroup. It wasn't enough that we were still hunted by those that branded us as traitors, now we also had to contend with the terrible aftermath of the apocalyptic shaking. However, we had survived the wrath of our creator, and near genocide of our horrendous cousins - we were determined to survive this as well.
There was an unexpected benefit to the mighty earthquakes, which we only discovered later. Cracks had emerged in the walls of the Underfoot, which opened to a new, mysterious place. Those that went through first and returned told stories of a world outside of the tunnels, brilliantly bright, covered in new creatures and green plant life. It was daunting to imagine a place like that, but we recognized it as something important. It was a place to escape those that pursued us.
The light was blinding, and hot on our fur. The air was crisp, and full of smells we had never experienced before. It was open and spacious, which is something none of us were used to -- it was hard to not feel exposed and vulnerable without the walls of the tunnels around us. It was difficult to get used to being outside like this, but we were quickly able to adapt, moving through the shadows to keep from being seen.
We were surprised to find civilizations living in this new environment, and we took some time to observe them. They seemed industrious, and even though their cities were devastated, they banded together and began to rebuild. There were also some unique individuals among them, more powerful than the rest, who adventured through the world, and possessed impressive power.
We knew that the RoekiIlik would stop at nothing to exterminate us, and ensure that their Dark Agenda would come to pass. If there was any hope to stop them, we would need to employ powerful agents to stand against their plan, and these surface dwellers seemed to have the potential that might be needed. After debates among ourselves, we decided to approach them with our warning.
We chose the city of Qeynos first. The people there seemed just and fair, and we believed they might be welcoming. A few of us were selected to emerge and speak with the people there. To our horror, we were very far off in our assessment of their nature. We were viewed as vermin, accused of being disease-infested, of sneaking about in the sewers, stealing what little food the city had. Some even attacked us outright. It was clear that we were not welcome.
It was a long trek to the city of Freeport, the only other standing city we were able to find. It was more militaristic, being run under the direction of a single leader as opposed to a cooperative. Some of us were wary about speaking with these people, as if we were rejected once again, we might find ourselves once again under the sword of an oppressor. However, we reasoned it wasn't necessary to impress the population as much as it was to impress the one in charge.
A few of us were able to bypass the cities' defenses and enter the chambers of the leader himself. At first, he was quite angry that we intruded and ordered our emissaries imprisoned. After torturous days in the prisons of Freeport, an offer was made to our fellows. The leader, while upset, was still impressed that we were able to bypass his security so easily. If we were to swear loyalty to him and become scouts for the city, he would spare us and allow us entry.
We attempted, at this point, to explain the danger possessed by the Roekillik, but the leadership of the city was uninterested in our warnings. Perhaps it was the immediacy of their current problems, or their own arrogance, but all we said fell on deaf ears. In the end, it was advantageous for us to remain here. Free, offered protection and a home, and if the Roekillik were to emerge, they would make a suitable buffer between us and our ancient enemies.
Thus, we came to reside within the city... for now at least. There might come a time when the Roekillik return, and we must choose to flee, or try to rally the races of Norrath to stop them and their Dark Agenda. We will continue to hope that day never comes.
Books
Outlying Freeport Creature Catalog This item can be placed on the floor in any house type.
As I catalog various flora and fauna, I can refer to this book.
Outlying Freeport Creature Catalog by Pearl Honeywine
Freeport was once known as "The City of Free Men" in the days before the Rending.
Ruled by Sir Lucan D'Lere, also known as the Overlord, the city of Freeport is still primarily inhabited by men, though it is also now home to many of the displaced folk of Norrath.
Craftsmen and adventurers still flock to this jewel by the sea.
The continent of D'Lere is named for the Overlord.
Freeport is set in the Commonlands on an excellent deep water harbor. It is believed to be the largest city to survive the Age of Cataclysms, although the inhabitants of Qeynos would beg to differ.
Beneath the city proper lies a sewer system that facilitates travel for those who wish to remain unseen.
Freeport's weather is warm without becoming uncomfortable.
Due to its proximity to the sea, cooling breezes keep the warm air from the Commonlands from stagnating over the city.
The buildings in Freeport are tall, creating narrow lanes that occasionally prevent sun from reaching the street level. In these man-made caverns, the air is much cooler than in the plazas.
In some sections of the city, you will find rooftop gardens with herbs, lemon trees or flowers for cutting. These areas are not visible from the street, however, and most travelers tend to view the patches of grass within the walls as the only greenery.
Freeport has never been a place of gardens and parks.
The areas surrounding Freeport are home to a variety of unwholesome creatures. One will find spiders and snakes aplenty, as well as dozens of rats. Travelers need also be aware that orcs are sometimes found close in, and of course the usual thugs and ruffians are a universal threat to one's safety.
Books
Outlying Freeport Creature Catalog This item can be placed on the floor in any house type.
As I catalog various flora and fauna, I can refer to this book.
NO-TRADE
Offers the Quest 'Outlying Freeport Creature Cataloging'
Outlying Freeport Creature Catalog by Pearl Honeywine
Freeport was once known as "The City of Free Men" in the days before the Rending.
Ruled by Sir Lucan D'Lere, also known as the Overlord, the city of Freeport is still primarily inhabited by men, though it is also now home to many of the displaced folk of Norrath.
Craftsmen and adventurers still flock to this jewel by the sea.
The continent of D'Lere is named for the Overlord.
Freeport is set in the Commonlands on an excellent deep water harbor. It is believed to be the largest city to survive the Age of Cataclysms, although the inhabitants of Qeynos would beg to differ.
Beneath the city proper lies a sewer system that facilitates travel for those who wish to remain unseen.
Freeport's weather is warm without becoming uncomfortable.
Due to its proximity to the sea, cooling breezes keep the warm air from the Commonlands from stagnating over the city.
The buildings in Freeport are tall, creating narrow lanes that occasionally prevent sun from reaching the street level. In these man-made caverns, the air is much cooler than in the plazas.
In some sections of the city, you will find rooftop gardens with herbs, lemon trees or flowers for cutting. These areas are not visible from the street, however, and most travelers tend to view the patches of grass within the walls as the only greenery.
Freeport has never been a place of gardens and parks.
The areas surrounding Freeport are home to a variety of unwholesome creatures. One will find spiders and snakes aplenty, as well as dozens of rats. Travelers need also be aware that orcs are sometimes found close in, and of course the usual thugs and ruffians are a universal threat to one's safety.
Books
Outlying Qeynos Creature Catalog This item can be placed on the floor in any house type.
As I catalog various flora and fauna, I can refer to this book.
Outlying Qeynos Creature Catalog by Pearl Honeywine
Just beyond the city's walls one will find areas which are considered part of Qeynos and yet remain wild.
Residents of Qeynos' villages are very familiar with these areas as they usually border on one or more of the residential neighborhoods. Though close to the city, they are by no means a walk in the park.
One reason these areas are still wild is that they exist within steep embankments that make opening them to settlement impractical.
The Bog in particular is an area where seasons of growth have compacted upon dense, moist soil and the scent of decay in that section would make living there disagreeable to say the least.
As these areas are close to Qeynos, they are quite temperate, though perhaps a little cooler due to the thickness of the vegetation.
The caves are quite cool and in the past were a welcome Harvest diversion where folks could slip off for a quick swim after their chores were done.
Without a doubt, the loveliest area is the Oakmyst Woods.
This woodland preserve is shaded by emerald green broad-leaf trees such as oak and maple. Beneath the trees, the undergrowth is scattered with trillium, bleeding hearts and red-tipped paintbrushes.
On the opposite end of the spectrum is the bog, with its greenish brown earth and fallen logs.
Perhaps it is the abundance of greenery that brings an increase in the number of fey beings to these areas near Qeynos.
Amongst the usual scattering of insects and birds, one finds several fairies and sprites protecting their space, attacking all who venture too near.
Additionally, the Ruins are home to some unfortunate folk who have not yet earned their eternal sleep.
Books
Outlying Qeynos Creature Catalog This item can be placed on the floor in any house type.
As I catalog various flora and fauna, I can refer to this book.
NO-TRADE
Offers the Quest 'Outlying Qeynos Creature Cataloging'
Outlying Qeynos Creature Catalog by Pearl Honeywine
Just beyond the city's walls one will find areas which are considered part of Qeynos and yet remain wild.
Residents of Qeynos' villages are very familiar with these areas as they usually border on one or more of the residential neighborhoods. Though close to the city, they are by no means a walk in the park.
One reason these areas are still wild is that they exist within steep embankments that make opening them to settlement impractical.
The Bog in particular is an area where seasons of growth have compacted upon dense, moist soil and the scent of decay in that section would make living there disagreeable to say the least.
As these areas are close to Qeynos, they are quite temperate, though perhaps a little cooler due to the thickness of the vegetation.
The caves are quite cool and in the past were a welcome Harvest diversion where folks could slip off for a quick swim after their chores were done.
Without a doubt, the loveliest area is the Oakmyst Woods.
This woodland preserve is shaded by emerald green broad-leaf trees such as oak and maple. Beneath the trees, the undergrowth is scattered with trillium, bleeding hearts and red-tipped paintbrushes.
On the opposite end of the spectrum is the bog, with its greenish brown earth and fallen logs.
Perhaps it is the abundance of greenery that brings an increase in the number of fey beings to these areas near Qeynos.
Amongst the usual scattering of insects and birds, one finds several fairies and sprites protecting their space, attacking all who venture too near.
Additionally, the Ruins are home to some unfortunate folk who have not yet earned their eternal sleep.
Books
Poxfiend Dreams This item can be placed on the floor in any house type.
This is a mastery tome. Use the knowledge contained within to gain a basic understanding of the tactics to use against the chosen foe.
Qeynos Catacombs Creature Catalog by Pearl Honeywine
The city of Qeynos is built over a series of ancient aqueducts.
In slightly more recent times, parts of these aqueducts were converted to catacombs in which the city's fallen have been buried. Therefore, one will find an intriguing mixture of ancient waterworks and burial crypts beneath the city's streets.
The Qeynosian catacombs coil for many sprockets beneath Qeynos and the villages built against its walls.
Entrances are somewhat scattered and as with any new construction over ancient stones, there are still unexplored regions among the twisting tunnels.
For the most part, the areas beneath the city have one weather pattern: dark and damp.
However, as befits an area designed in part by elves and dwarves, the catacombs include architectural details that allow ambient light to filter into even their deepest reaches. This gives those who find themselves beneath the city glimpses into the decorative arts of those long-ago builders.
Waterways through the Qeynos catacombs provide more than enough moisture for various flora to survive. The lack of light, however, prevents any of these plants to reach any substantial height. Generally speaking, one will be able to readily identify only thin grasses between the pavers, some black lichen and a handful of fungi.
The primary form of wildlife in the catacombs are the usual underground denizens -- rats, snakes and insects. Various bats are also widespread through the various levels.
One must also be cautious as rumors say that the Bloodsabers, once thought defunct, are now regrouping and using the catacombs as their headquarters.
Books
Qeynos Catacombs Creature Catalog This item can be placed on the floor in any house type.
As I catalog various flora and fauna, I can refer to this book.
NO-TRADE
Offers the Quest 'Qeynos Catacombs Creature Cataloging'
Qeynos Catacombs Creature Catalog by Pearl Honeywine
The city of Qeynos is built over a series of ancient aqueducts.
In slightly more recent times, parts of these aqueducts were converted to catacombs in which the city's fallen have been buried. Therefore, one will find an intriguing mixture of ancient waterworks and burial crypts beneath the city's streets.
The Qeynosian catacombs coil for many sprockets beneath Qeynos and the villages built against its walls.
Entrances are somewhat scattered and as with any new construction over ancient stones, there are still unexplored regions among the twisting tunnels.
For the most part, the areas beneath the city have one weather pattern: dark and damp.
However, as befits an area designed in part by elves and dwarves, the catacombs include architectural details that allow ambient light to filter into even their deepest reaches. This gives those who find themselves beneath the city glimpses into the decorative arts of those long-ago builders.
Waterways through the Qeynos catacombs provide more than enough moisture for various flora to survive. The lack of light, however, prevents any of these plants to reach any substantial height. Generally speaking, one will be able to readily identify only thin grasses between the pavers, some black lichen and a handful of fungi.
The primary form of wildlife in the catacombs are the usual underground denizens -- rats, snakes and insects. Various bats are also widespread through the various levels.
One must also be cautious as rumors say that the Bloodsabers, once thought defunct, are now regrouping and using the catacombs as their headquarters.
Books
Quotes of General Urduuk This item can be placed on the floor in any house type.
A competent bookbinder is a valuable resource who can restore any book that's had pages removed.
In this book, we see the Rallosian Army's advance through the eyes of Ilkalla, a Qeynosian Guard at an outpost on Lake Rathetear.
For as long as she could, Ilkalla watched Gerren's progress up the steep cliffs bordering Lake Rathetear. Even when she could no longer pick him out among the shadows cast by the jagged rocks, she fancied she could see him making his way cautiously along. Finally, she crept into the hut she and Gerren had shared beside their outpost and slept. The Rallosian Army would launch its barges across the Lake and she would need her strength to meet them.
The sun was high overhead when Ilkalla awoke. Her dreams were troubled by the thrumming of the ogres' victory drums which had started up again while she slept. "Why couldn't they use a victory flute instead?" she grumbled, latching on to the least of the concerns this day would bring. She had been able to cross the Lake on a coracle twice in one night, but she had been pulling only herself. She was not sure how long the massive, heavy Rallosians barges would take to make the same crossing.
There were very few humans around Lake Rathetear. Ilkalla was the only one present at the strategy meeting, where the aviak and centaur leaders stood before parchment maps, marking off the approaches across the Lake and the defensive positions available. The wide arrows indicating the ways the Rallosian Army could attack were wide swathes of red ochre compared to the tiny ash grey lines for defense. To Ilkalla, the ochre marks looked like dried blood.
"The best course of action is to stop them before they cross," said Khaza, an aviak general. "The aqua goblins will join with the ogres, not with us. We have fought them too long for them to suddenly consider us their allies," responded Errod of the centaurs. "Perhaps we could put our defense in two zones, rather than hoping to defend across the entire shore," said Ilkalla. She pointed to the most likely site where the Rallosian barges would land. "Aviaks in front over the water and the rest of us on the shore."
"With some aviaks in the flanks to keep the Rallosians from spreading our front lines too thin," agreed Khaza. "We might not survive for long against the entire Rallosian Army, but we can pick them off and lessen their numbers." The aviak and centaur leaders sent word to their gathered forces. Ilkalla (a "non-flier" as the aviaks called them) would join a centaur unit held in a third tier reserve.
Mixed now with the steady beat of the victory drums was the sound of chanting. The Rallosians were crossing the Lake, chanting to keep their oarsmen in rhythm and their deep voices carried across the water, bouncing off the mountains. No doubt their ruckus was designed to inspire fear amongst the defenders waiting for their approach. Instead, it filled them with anger and purpose. They might die this day, but they were taking as many ogres with them as they could.
Ilkalla chafed at being assigned to the third tier, but she knew her strengths did not include hand-to-hand combat. She gathered beside her all her own arrows plus the quivers Gerren had left behind. She looked toward the Rathe Mountains again, wondering how he was faring and praying that Tunare -- wherever she may be -- would guide him. Ilkalla had never been one of the faithful, praying to the gods at every rainbow or stubbed toe, but somehow it seemed fitting to pray today.
The chanting grew louder along with sound of vigorous splashing from the ogre paddlers. They were not skilled watersmen, but they were strong. As the first barge approached, the aviaks went into motion, throwing themselves into the faces of the Rallosians. The ogres' chanting was now disrupted by the fighting calls of the aviaks -- shrill, piercing and challenging. The barges did not halt with this interference; they continued their slow progress forward.
Thanks to the aviaks' efforts and the skills of the archers in the second tier, the first barge to hit the shore came in at an awkward angle. The spiked boards scraped heavily into the loose gravel shore with enough force that many of the ogres standing ready for battle were set off balance. The centaurs charged in to take advantage of the moment, but another barge gliding in set loose a volley of arrows that tore into the second tier. All too soon, the third tier moved forward.
At the far end of her line, Ilkalla took careful but quick aim at the ogres, trying to avoid the remaining aviaks and centaurs at the front of the line. From the corner of her eye she caught a movement, but was unable to stop the blow. Sinking to the rocky shore, Ilkalla's mind drifted like the waters surrounding her. "I always thought that water was blue," she murmured dazedly. As the final blow struck, a shriveled gnoll's paw floated up beside her on the waves of the red lake.
Books
Remembering Rivervale This item can be placed on the floor in any house type.
This completed book can be placed in your house and read.
Many brave halflings fell defending Rivervale and the Misty Thicket during the Age of War. This is the story of the defense of the Misty Thicket.
The sight of the orcs reminded Gemma of the talk in Rivervale the previous week, that goblins and orcs had teamed up in the Northlands as the "Horde of the Inferno." Watching the tide of invaders pouring into the Misty Thicket through the breached wall, Gemma realized that the Northlands weren't the only place where such coordination had been happening. She turned resolutely and headed to Rivervale. Someone had to warn them!
Arrows whistled past her but Gemma ran swifter than she ever had in her entire life, ducking into the trees to dodge anything aimed her way. The sound of the battle, while fainter, still rang in her ears. How had they kept the orcs a secret for so long? When she reached the outskirts of Rivervale, Gemma paused to catch her breath, her eyes darting from one familiar, beloved landmark to another, in a sorrowful farewell.
Running up and down the streets, Gemma cried out the news of the breach in the wall. The Leatherfoot Brigade units that were still in Rivervale ran past her toward the Misty Thicket. Gemma reached the doorstep of her own home and paused. She'd left it in such disarray this morning; could she bear to have some filthy orc pawing through her treasures? With a quick shake, she said angrily, "They'll have to come through Gemma Pathfinder first."
There was no time to dawdle. Emma burst into the house, yelling for her mother to get the younger children and head to Freeport. "Gemma! What's the matter?" her mother asked, but it was clear from the frightened look on her face that she already knew. They hugged quickly. Gemma kissed the tops of the youngsters' heads. She jerked open the trunk in which they kept their family's prized possessions and pulled out an ivy-etched leather jerkin. She would wear it into battle.
"I will meet you in Freeport. Gemma, be careful!" her mother said, joining the throngs of families heading toward the Kithicor Forest. "And Bristlebane hope there are no orcs in there yet," Gemma said under her breath. She took one last look around the disordered room where she'd lived all her life. Chairs were overturned, breakfast on the table spilled and uneaten. "Good bye," she said softly, shutting the door and for the first time, locking it behind her.
It seemed that all of Rivervale was running someplace. Gemma joined a group of soldiers heading back toward the Misty Thicket, although from the sounds of it, they might as well stand still -- the battle was coming to Rivervale. Thick black smoke rose into the air; the invaders had set fire to the Misty Thicket. Once again the desire to run -- she should go with the families and protect them! -- came into Gemma's mind. She stopped running.
The sound of heartbroken crying caught her ear over the din. Gemma followed the sound to the doorway of the Rivervale schoolhouse. She found the school mistress sitting on the doorstep, shaking from the force of her tears. "Get up," Gemma said somewhat crossly. "Get up, Winda...you've got to get the children and get out of here." Winda shook her head, "They've all gone; they're safe. But I'm so scared, Gemma!"
Gemma pulled Winda to her feet and took her hands. "It'll be fine, Winda. You just head over to Freeport now with the rest of the families. They'll need a school teacher, you know." Chatting as cheerfully as possible, Gemma got the school teacher walking away from town. "Maybe you can get the older ones into a different room now," Gemma said, bringing up a subject dear to Winda's heart. Winda hated having the older children disrupting the younger ones at their lessons.
"That would be...good," Winda sniffed. "Oh, Gemma, thank you!" Winda smiled. The battle sounds returned even louder. "I can't go out there, I just can't," Gemma thought, fighting the desperate urge to run. She grabbed Winda's hand and pulled her along the nearly deserted streets along the road to the Kithicor Forest. "The families aren't much ahead, Winda, you just got to...." The halflings stopped running; on the road before them stood a half dozen orcs.
"Run, Winda!" Gemma pushed the school teacher back the way they'd just come. She pulled out her short swords again and faced the invaders, her feet planted firmly apart. Winda screamed and took off, shrieking as she made her escape. The orcs hadn't seen them until then, but now they jogged purposefully up the road. One of them threw a javelin at Gemma, catching her in the shoulder. She fell, thinking, "It's like falling asleep."
Books
Remembrances - Berrox This item can be placed on the floor in any house type.
This completed book can be placed in your house and read.
This tome bears the title of "Remembrances - Berrox." When first looking at the text, it appears as if it is written in another language, but after careful examination it most assuredly is written in your native tongue. It appears to be a fantastical tale as told by a bard.
The obelisk appeared in the center of the marketplace on Jallows Day. A great black structure, it spindled higher into the sky than any of the surrounding buildings. At first the citizens of our capital, Darrow's Hollow, had believed it to be some sort of elaborate magical prank. We couldn't have been more wrong.
At first King Adan summoned all of the wise men of magical learning. They came from far and near - from the desert lands or Naragin to the floating jungles of the Desolation. Not one of these great wizards could explain what it was or how it came to be.
Then King Adan summoned forth all of the bards and jongleurs to see if they had any tales of this forbidding structure. Listening to endless hours of tales of boldness and courage, the King came to the conclusion that they knew as much as the wizards.
Finally King Adan called upon all of priests of the Heavenly Pantheon to ask their frightening gods for some insight. After hearing gruesome threats of death and destruction, the King remembered why his ancestors drove the holy men into the wilds. It would seem as if no one could answer the mystery of the obelisk.
Messages would come from the marketplace of frightening creatures lurking near the stalls at night. Being described as creatures straight out of nightmares, the good King feared for his people and began sending adventurers to do combat with these horrors. This would continue until the day that Ultor Szanvon would appear before the court, proclaiming he knew the secrets of the obelisk.
Ultor explained to King Adan that the answer lay not with magic or gods or stories, but rather with his ancestors. He claimed to know how to speak with the dead and offered to show the King how to do the same. Both intrigued and at his wit's end, the King agreed to listen to this stranger.
For then next month, the king would watch as Ultor would speak with the spirits and would reveal their secrets to the ruler. Ultor would rise to the position of Chancellor, both due to his wisdom and also coincidental deaths among the king's advisors. In the end, Ultor told the king that it was time for the regent to learn the answers of increasingly menacing obelisk.
Chancellor Ultor advised King Adan that his forefathers, kings of times gone by, would know about the truth of the obelisk. Knowing the answers were close at hand, the King ordered his squires to bring him the oaken box from within his sleeping chambers. Inside held the key to the burial crypts of the noble line of the Adan Kings - King's Rest.
Preparing for a long journey to the mausoleum of the ancient kings, the Chancellor advised that it should be only the King and himself who went. Claiming that the spirits of the fallen regents would be offended at being disturbed by anyone other than nobility, Ultor and King Adan were the only ones to enter the Crypts of King's Rest.
And thus is the tale of how the people of Berrox would lose their king in these dark days. The obelisk still stands within the center of the twisted ruins of Darrow's Hollow, having never changed. Just as we lost our king in his search for answers to the obelisk, so too would we lose armies great and small in their own search. Countless parties of adventurers have ventured into that now opened doorway on the side of that blackened obelisk... but none have yet to return.
Books
Remembrances - DyzAz This item can be placed on the floor in any house type.
This completed book can be placed in your house and read.
This tome bears the title of "Remembrances - DyzAz". When first looking at the text, it appears as if it is written in another language, but after careful examination it most assuredly is written in your native tongue. It's very hard to understand what is being said in this tome. It's possible it was written by a bard that was struck mad (or had one too many glasses of wine).
Log A9-Green: Several more fluctuals were enhanced after the rise of the third sun. I can feel my dizals quiver in alarm. This is definitely out of place.
Log Ce8: The placement of the spindles are out of alignment. This cannot be the case, for I adjusted them earlier between the ninth sun's setting. I am rather disturbed.
Log 99L: GxvveR and Cvxlx are delayed in their daily transference. This is unheard of. I am debating whether or not I should float over to the structure myself. If I catch them careening circles from that spire, they will get no hearth-light before sleep.
Log AA3-Blue: My budded pair concerns me. I have observed them and they appear to be different. Their glow has faded, which is a sign of the Grizzer virus. But Grizzer virus only comes about during the Lain Cycle, which is three cycles from now.
Log Reeg4: The Holy Overlord has quarantined the western house-bowl. My budded pair has become even more sick and it spreads to the other Dyzalar. Their beautiful blue glow is now light-absent, and they no longer recognize me. I fear they are dying.
Log Ff63: I have prayed to all nine of the suns for a blessing, but nothing has changed. My budded pair have now lost their healthy spherical shape. If I get too close, I can feel my glow... weakening. It is as if they are drawing my life into them. They have not even named me as their bud-source for six turns now.
Log 93: I would have never thought it to be possible, but I too have been forced to break the Tymoth Law. My budded pair deceived me into believing they had their round form again. As I was about to spread my glow around them, they changed into limbed horrors and attempted to consume me. I had no choice but to sever their lines.
Log KRV: My simulacrum showed a patch of absent light growing on my upper hemisphere. I have rubbed electrical powder onto that spot, for I do not want the others to know that I have been afflicted. It should not matter, for I see many Dyzalar with light-absent patches these turns. I have even seen the Holy Overlord trying to bandage the limb that is growing from his upper hemisphere.
Log BlueGreenBlue: The Holy Overlord has lifted the quarantine from all house-bowls. We are free to walk upon the ground as we please. It is no longer difficult to approach the others, for we will take the form of the Dyzalar. When they approach, we can offer them the gift of light-absence.
Log 42hg: The true-limbed ones are pleased by our efficiency. The Dyzalar have been deceased. We are the transcended now. All life, all existence, all being. It is all ours to decease. They have told us where to find more existence to consume. We leave this husk behind.
Books
Remembrances - Nyalla-Phon This item can be placed on the floor in any house type.
This completed book can be placed in your house and read.
This odd tome appears to be a chronicle of some sorts. You're not sure who, what, or where it's about, however. At first it appeared as if it was written in a different language, but the more you look at it, the more you realize it actually was transcribed in your native tongue this whole time. Unfortunately, most of the pages have been ripped out of the book. The two words on the cover of the book are "Remembrances - Nyalla-Phon."
Aggregate Gathering, Hour 1: In attendance - Arisain, Biddledobbles, Dreggas, Grathok, Grij Menkols, Llylleaneans, The Mennoth, Night Tabards, Ondranicains, Ozradicains, Qiv, Tintintoran, Tygars, Wixlefathers, Vuls. In absentia - Crentooks, Thears, Zennic Horde.
Aggregate Gathering, Hour 2: Tiva (The Mennoth) to host Grand Bazaar for next decade - two consent, twelve dissent, one abstain. Earthen Flow (Wixlefathers) to host Grand Bazaar - two consent, twelve dissent, one abstain. Silver Citadel (Arisain) to host Grand Bazaar - twelve consent, two dissent, one abstain.
Aggregate Gathering, Hour 3: The Grathok insist on disrupting the peace again! Loudly clacking their claws will not speed this up, as the Chancellor keeps telling them. But will they listen? No! It's always about them, isn't it? Sheesh. Whose bright idea was it to let them join the Aggregate, anyways?
Aggregate Gathering, Hour 4: Farmlands will no longer encroach upon the shores of the Tintintoran's home - nine consent, two dissent, three abstain. Bronze can be used for weapons only during the bi-annual rise of the Zennic Horde - four consent, three dissent, eight abstain. The Arisain shall continue to guide the Aggregate for the next decade - fourteen consent, zero dissent, one abstain.
Aggregate Gathering, Hour 5: Here they go again! Clack-clack-clack! Stubborn to the core, I tell you! How can I keep the minutes of the gathering with all that racket! I am right about to stuff my trunk in my ears if they don't quiet down! Well, it's about time! The Arisain themselves have finally soothed those lobster-headed fools. Hopefully we can get back to business.
Aggregate Gathering, Hour 6: Decay magic to be outlawed - nine consent, five dissent, zero abstain. Death magic to be outlawed - twelve consent, two dissent, zero abstain. All magic to be outlawed - one consent, thirteen dissent, one abstain.
Aggregate Gathering, Hour 7: This is something to tell my grandchildren about. Never do you see the Arisain vote on anything. They just hover there by gently flapping their feathered wings, making sure everyone's voice is heard during the Gathering. You know, I've heard those ethereal women hated Death and Decay magic, but I didn't realize how much! Wow... to see them actually cast a vote. Amazing!
Aggregate Gathering, Hour 8: Lengthening the Lower Wall (Grij Menkols) - twelve consent, two dissent, one abstain. Excavating the Western Spires (Dreggas) - seven consent, seven dissent, one abstain (No Accord - 12th Casting). Full Aggregate investigation of the Shadowed Tower - one consent, thirteen dissent, one abstain.
Aggregate Gathering, Hour 9: They're at it again!!! That incessant clacking! Just because their Shadowed Tower resolution didn't pass (again, mind you), they think they can annoy us into doing it? Look! Even the Vuls are upset, and that takes one heck of a lot of effort. Oh. Great. Now the Arisain are going to let them speak. Wonderful. Now we'll be here for hours listening to their tall tales about that tower.
Aggregate Gathering, Hour 10: Meeting Adjourned. The next Gathering will commence in seven years time. I must add that I am... well, worried. After hearing the latest tale by the Grathok, they've agreed to investigate the tower themselves. This is unprecedented. What concerns me the most was the look of fear on their faces. I sure hope those ladies have some good news the next time the Aggregate gathers.
Books
Remembrances - Tel'riia'mil'an'ane'ie This item can be placed on the floor in any house type.
This completed book can be placed in your house and read.
This odd tome appears to be a chronicle of some sorts. You're not sure who, what, or where it's about, however. At first it appeared as if it was written in a different language, but the more you look at it, the more you realize it actually was transcribed in your native tongue this whole time. Unfortunately, most of the pages have been ripped out of the book. The two words on the cover of the book are "Remembrances - Tel'riia'mil'an'ane'ie."
Trirain 30:127 - "And the air will fill with the eyes of storms, and the crystal crops will begin to shatter. When the gathering of the hail-lines begin to fall, the time will be nigh."
Trirain 30:128 - "The beautiful will congregate beneath the one true Cynarian Crystal and sing the blessed hymn. They will be bathed in cleansing cinnamon and marked for freedom."
Trirain 30:129 - "Rewarded will be those who follow the Cynarian Crystal, and damned will be those who follow the Black Tower."
Septrain 9:72 - "And the Ice Taylenes will come collapsing down upon the heads of the deceivers, leaving no merchants or farmers or tam housers. The songs of the many will now become the songs of the few."
Septrain 9:73 - "The Man of Talzaron will then be the next to fall. No longer will the crystals hum in his presence, leaving the shadows to walk free among the people."
Septrain 9:74 - "The triple moon will darken and haze, causing all those who see with eyes to know of the impending doom. They will seek solace within the Black Tower, knowing this to be their false salvation."
Septrain 9:75 - "And as the Last Night comes, the ruby oceans will vomit forth the Pillar of Shadow. The true believers who have been washed with the blessing of freedom will now be released of their tenure. All that will remain will be those who did not choose."
Septrain 9:76 - "The division of light and dark will come to those who embraced the shadows. Those who did not choose during these dark times will be consumed by the light that is not, for so it shall be."
Septrain 9:77 - "The men of shadows shall show their face and it will be a gaping maw of victory. The last horn shall sound from the Obelisk of Despair and all will know the cycle has ended. Darkness shall wash over the land and all will know nothing."
Septrain 9:78 - "And the ground will move and the sky will quake. The darkness that is the world will pull into itself. All that is. All that was. All that will never be."
Books
Rise of the Orcs - The Ascension This item can be placed on the floor in any house type.
A competent bookbinder is a valuable resource who can restore any book that's had pages removed.
This book details how the orcs would organize into armies the likes of which had not been seen on Norrath for millennia.
The following historical account details what stories would describe as the main turning point in the rise of the orcs.
No longer primal savages, the orcs would organize into armies the like that hadn't been seen on Norrath for millennia.
Several accounts of thus time period still exist in varying forms, which have been condensed together within this volume.
Snow Orcs: Launching a surprise attack on both Surefall Glade and Qeynos at the same time, the Snow Orcs would attempt to divide the two cities.
The orcs sent wave after wave of gnoll suicide squads at the humans.
Employing frighteningly effective tactics, the destruction caused by the orcs would seem to be amplified by their leader - a being engulfed in fire.
As the invasion would wear on, the gnoll's numbers would be decimated - leaving behind only women and children in Blackburrow.
The Avatar of Flame would ultimately send the signal that would spell the doom for Qeynos. Having suffered major losses to the gnolls, the human city would stand no chance against the orcish hordes marching straight for them.
Were it not for a miracle that happened that day, Qeynos would not be standing.
As the Snow Orc horde began their charge, a great rumbling was felt in the earth. It intensified to the point of toppling many of the nearby towers.
When the dust settled, the armies of Qeynos gazed upon a huge hole in the land where the hordes once stood. Slowly they realized that the very earth had swallowed the entire orc army. They watched in amazement as the ground began to reform, leaving no trace that there was ever a rift in the earth.
Even with this turn of events, the war was far from over.
The Avatar of Flame, somehow avoiding the great sinkhole, still stood with only a few remaining orcish troops.
The Qeynosians, having suffered severe losses from the invasion, would then see their second miracle that day. Approaching from the north, the combined forces of the Knights of Thunder and the Druids of Surefall were riding to join the ranks of Qeynos - being led by the Avatar of Storms.
Unbeknownst to the human forces, however, was that the Avatar of Flame had reinforcements of his own. And they, too, had just arrived.
Deathfist Orcs: Though they had just traveled many leagues to join with their Rallosian brethren, the Deathfist orcs would find that the war in the south had changed since they were called.
Already controlling the Innothule swamp, the Rallosian Army had now set their sights on new targets.
Splitting the forces into two armies, one would sweep to the west being led by the Rallosian Warlord. The other, being led by Emperor Gash and the Avatar of War, would return to the north.
Traveling back through the desert wasteland the orcs had just devastated, the Rallosians would remark upon the efficiency of the orcs' work.
Sometime during the march, Emperor Gash would send several platoons towards the hills, but not offering to explain why.
When questioned, he would reply that the ogres needn't worry about having enough troops when they reached their destination.
Though working together as allies, the orcs and the ogres would maintain wide berths during the march. This would prove a stroke of luck for the Rallosians, but not for the Deathfists. As they the armies passed into an open stretch of desert, the Rallosians would watch as tens of thousands of orcs would instantly be swallowed by the sand in one fell swoop.
Though a devastating loss to the Deathfist Empire, Emperor Gash informed the Rallosians and the Avatar of War that all was not lost. For, he claimed, the orcs he brought with him were only one half of the Empire. The other half were already waiting at their destination.
Finally reaching their destination, the remaining orcs and the Rallosians joined with the other half of the Deathfist Empire.
Employing the tactics of the orcs and the unstoppable might of the Rallosians, the Avatar of War began preparing for battle against their target - the great city of Freeport.
When the assault was set to begin, the Avatar of War gazed upon Freeport and watched as thousands of Militia gathered to defend the walls.
The battle was about to begin.
The orcs, once viewed as a petty annoyance, would rise from primitive savagery to tactical genius.
Ancient tales that told of their former greatness were oft overlooked as being nothing more than fairy tales.
Norrath would come to know that the stories were actually true, and were more attention paid to them, they would have known that the orcs had "returned" to Norrath.
And their "return" would be forever burned into the memory by the part they played in the War of Defiance.
Books
Rise of the Orcs - The Deadtime This item can be placed on the floor in any house type.
A competent bookbinder is a valuable resource who can restore any book that's had pages removed.
This book details the histories of several orcish tribes when they were nothing more than savage beasts.
The following historical account details the early years of the orcish people.
Not much is known about these savages, for most that has been written about them speak only of their predations rather than their personal histories.
The following facts have been taken from many different sources ranging from fragments of parchment to tales told by elderly elves.
The Deathfist Orcs - Before the Rending, Antonica was much larger than it is today. Many orcs would roam this once great continent, banding together in tribes. One of these tribes called themselves the Deathfist orcs.
Making their home near the city of Freeport, they were a deadly threat to travelers.
Preying upon merchant caravans traveling to the nearby fortress of Highhold, the Deathfist orcs would acquire goods of all types, ranging from foodstuffs to finely crafted weapons.
Attracting the attention of nearby brigands, they would ultimately come to an unspoken agreement to not get in each other's ways, sometimes even joining forces with each other.
Working alongside their Dervish Cutthroat partners, the Deathfists would become enough of a threat to Freeport that the city started issuing bounties for proof of their deaths.
This would continue for many years to come, but the city was never able to fully exterminate these ruthless savages.
Snow Orcs - One of several tribes of orcs living on the great continent of Antonica, the Snow Orcs had managed to thrive by choosing to migrate to a desolate, frozen wasteland.
Living in the land that was once called Everfrost, the Snow Orcs had only one major enemy to contend within upon those frozen plains - the barbarians of Halas.
An uneasy peace would exist between their barbarian neighbors and themselves.
Due to this truce, The Snow Orcs were able to devote more time to worshipping their god than their other tribal counterparts in other lands.
One of the few tribes known to have shown signs of having more than just animal-level thought, the Snow Orcs would create small temples to perform primitive rituals and ceremonies to Rallos Zek.
The barbarian clans would eventually unite, causing the shaky truce to come to and end.
Destroying every temple they could find, the barbarians would wage war upon the Snow Orcs for the coming centuries.
During this time, the Snow Orcs would revert to savagery, all but forgetting their shamanistic qualities.
The Crushbone Orcs - Another tribe that would by migrating far away were the Crushbone Orcs. In a weird chapter of orcish history, the Crushbone tribe would build a great fleet of crude boats and rafts and sail off to the former continent of Faydwer.
Never before had anyone seen a level of ingenuity evidenced by these primal savages.
Many of the orcs would survive the crossing of the ocean, which is the most astounding part of this tale.
Wasting no time in making new enemies upon this new continent, the Crushbone orcs would begin warring with the native dwarves and soon after, the elves.
Being overwhelmed by the cooperation of the dwarves and elves, the orcs would be routed battle after battle.
Were it not for finding an abandoned outpost in a secluded vale, the Crushbone tribe's history would have ended there.
Using the fort as a base of operations, the Crushbone orcs would soon begin to turn the table on the elves and dwarves. Launching surprisingly organized raids upon the tree city of Kelethin, the Crushbone orcs would become a force of destruction rather than annoyance.
Eventually seeking aid from adventuring types, the elves would find that the Crushbone orcs had organized into a haphazard army, but one that could not easily be put down even with the combined might of the elven and dwarven nations.
In hindsight, this would be the first warning of what was to come.
Books
Rise of the Orcs - The Fall This item can be placed on the floor in any house type.
A competent bookbinder is a valuable resource who can restore any book that's had pages removed.
This book details how the orcs would nearly succeed at toppling the two most powerful cities on Norrath.
The following historical account details the orc's involvement during the short, yet devastating, War of Defiance.
Simultaneously laying siege to the two largest cities on Norrath, the orcs would come close to achieving greatness, only to be crushed in the final moments.
Several accounts of this time period still exist in varying forms, which have been condensed together within this volume.
Snow Orcs: Numbering only in the hundreds, the Snow Orcs would have their numbers reinforced by the Avatar of Flame's hidden army.
Coming from the Plains of Karana, hundreds of goblins and giants would join their ranks to do battle with combined forces of the humans.
The resulting clash between forces would echo halfway across the world.
For eight days, the battle would rage. Giants would smash the Qeynosian Guard, druids would kill orcs, but neither side was winning.
Ultimately, the Qeynosians would make a valiant charge that would end the war.
The Knights of Thunder would land a killing blow against the Orcish horde by severing the head from the Avatar of Flame's shoulders.
Losing the guidance from their divine leader, the giants, goblins, and orcs would finally fall to the Qeynosians.
Not having enough troops to hunt down the stragglers, so the fallen army would scatter to the four winds. The few remaining Snow Orcs would be routed back through Blackburrow, and that is where history would last see these people.
It is not known how many Snow Orcs survived the journey through their former slaves' den, but it is known that orc bones would be seen in the gnoll's rubbish pits for months to come.
Deathfist Orcs: The siege of Freeport would not bode well for the Militia. Not expecting the combined might of the orcs and the ogres, the Militia did all they could just to keep the walls standing.
Soon enough, the humans would realize that the orcish and ogrish armies were doing nothing more than taunting them. When it was noticeable in the faces of every one of the guards that all hope was lost, something unexpected happened. A greenish mist began covering the land for as far as the eye could see. Filling the lungs of everyone, it seemed nothing more than an odd weather phenomenon. Nothing could be further from the truth.
The orcs would look in horror as they watched as all of the ogres began to cough up clouds of green colored mist from their lungs.
These spasms would become more and more violent until the ogres would collapse dead from asphyxiation. Looking all around them, the Deathfist army would see every last one of their Rallosian brethren lying dead on the battlefield, with nary a scratch on them.
To make matters worse for the orcs, the battle would be joined by two other armies, intent on finishing what the green mist had started.
Though their numbers were unimaginable, the Deathfists were not able to withstand an army on three fronts - The Freeport Militia on one side, the Ashen Order on another, and the Knights of Truth on the last.
The orcs would not go down without a fight, however. It would take the death of the Avatar of War before the Deathfist would be routed.
With their numbers reduced to the mere hundreds, the Deathfist orcs fled past the Ashen Order monks towards the Desert of Ro, where they were never seen again.
The orcs would neither be heard nor seen for the next several decades.
Aside from isolated clans that remained out of the War of Defiance, Norrath believed the threat was forever gone. With the coming of the Rending and later the Shattering, the endless hordes of the orcs would begin to become nothing more than stories again.
This would prove to be folly once again.
The re-emergence of the orcs would first be seen in the Commonlands.
A clan calling themselves the Bloodskulls would begin to become a new threat to Freeport. Using siege engines, Freeport has managed to keep these orcs at bay, but they must remain ever vigilant.
Coupled with this clan that emerged overnight, those foolish enough to ply their trade on the sea lanes claim to have seen great armadas of ships roaming the water. Those that have survived these encounters claim the crews of these ships to be made up of orcs.
Some unfounded reports claim that that the Deathfist Empire had managed to survive their defeat during the War of Defiance.
These stories claim that the phantom armadas exist and they're nothing more than the naval branch of the Deathfist Empire.
Even wilder stories claim there is a land filled with these orcs, and not only have they rebuilt their Empire, they're preparing for another attack on Norrath.
Fortunately, these stories have no proof to validate these foolish claims.
Books
Rise of the Orcs - The Rejoining This item can be placed on the floor in any house type.
A competent bookbinder is a valuable resource who can restore any book that's had pages removed.
This book details how the orcs would organize into armies the likes of which had not been seen on Norrath for millennia.
The following historical account details what stories would describe as the main turning point in the rise of the orcs.
No longer primal savages, the orcs would organize into armies the like that hadn't been seen on Norrath for millenia.
Several accounts of thus time period still exist in varying forms, which have been condensed together within this volume.
The Deathfist: Having defeated the Freeport Militia on several occassions, the Deathfist orcs would cause the city's armies to rethink their strategies.
During this time, the Emperor of the Deathfist orcs would be visited by a being of immense power.
This visitor would cause the Deathfist to send out a call to all of the minor tribes that made up the entire empire.
The Snow Orcs: Efficiently using many ancient artifacts acquired from the Dragon Vox, the Snow Orcs would begin to push back against the barbarians.
Eventually laying siege to Halas, they would signal the death-knell for the rugged barbarians. The Snow Orcs would immediately change direction, however, after meeting with a strange visitor.
Leaving Halas behind, they began marching to the south with a determined pace.
The Crushbone: Not much is known about the Crushbone orcs during this time period.
Having taken part in a great war that ravaged the continent of Faydwer, these orcs would fade into obscurity. All that is known is that a small group of Crushbones would sail across the ocean on great ships they built, intent on joining up with the Deathfist on the main continent.
They claim their motivation for doing so would be due to a directive given to them by a mysterious visitor.
Snow Orcs: Marching through the frozen tundra of Everfrost Peaks, the Snow Orcs would gather every tribe along their way, eventually forming into a great army.
They would continue this march, annihilating everything in their path. Rather than raiding and capturing small villages along their way, they would simply kill everyone and raze the buildings to the ground.
This march would eventually end when they reached the homeland of the gnolls, Blackburrow.
Having evidenced the wanton slaughter they had caused on their way to the gnoll's home, one would expect the orcs to have done the same to the dog-men.
Instead, however, the gnolls were waiting for them and invited the orcs inside their den. No battle took place that day, and the orcs passed into the winding caves without harm.
Making camp at sites prepared for them, it become evident the orcs and the gnolls were working together.
The residents of the nearby Qeynos received word of the plight of Halas and would send forces to help the barbarians.
None of thier forces could reach the frozen tundra due to pact between the gnolls and the orcs, however.
All that would be learned during this time was the orcs now residing within Blackburrow were no longer the guests of the gnolls, but instead the masters. By now, the Snow Orcs of Blackburrow had enslaved every last gnoll and were using them to mine or for their war efforts.
Deathfist Orcs: Not long after their visit by the mysterious stranger, Emperor Gash would begin to mobilize every member of his tribe into a great army.
Spanning from the southern Rujarkian orcs to the western Kithicorian orcs of the Deathfist Empire, they all were given orders to arm themselves and collapse their nomadic camps.
The stranger's message was then delivered to every orcish soldier - War.
Amassing their mighty armies within the Desert of Ro, their ancestral homeland, the orcs began to march south.
Just like the Snow Orcs, they would decimate anyone and everything within their path.
From gypsies to desert madmen, there was nothing left alive in the Desert of Ro after they had crossed its endless dunes.
They would continue their march until they finally reached the southernmost Innothule swamp. This was where their forces were joined to an even larger army.
The Second Rallosian Empire, comprised of ogres who regained their long-lost intelligence, welcomed the orcs into their ranks.
Joining together into one great army, the Deathfist orcs watched as their Emperor fell to his knees and swore fealty to the leader of this titanic army - The Avatar of War.
When the Avatar stated that the Deathfist armies were larger than he had expected, Emperor Gash smiled enigmatically and told him, "If this is the case, then we have already won, your Divineness."
Books
Rise of the Orcs - The Rousing This item can be placed on the floor in any house type.
A competent bookbinder is a valuable resource who can restore any book that's had pages removed.
This book highlights the turning point when the orcs would start to become a force to be reckoned with.
The following historical account details what some stories describe as the "return" of the orcs.
Once primal savages, the orcs would become frightening masters of tactics and strategy not seen on Norrath for nearly a thousand years.
The following facts have been taken from many different sources ranging from fragments of parchment to tales told by elderly elves.
The Deathfist Orcs: By the Age of Turmoil, the Deathfist orcs would become a formidable threat to the city of Freeport.
Having grown in size, the Deathfist orcs would absorb all of the surrounding tribes, making them the largest tribe on Norrath.
Their numbers would prompt the Overlord of Freeport to send his armies against these savages from time to time in an attempt to keep them from destroying all commerce.
This would change one day, however.
When one of the Freeport Militia raiding parties failed to return one day, several search parties were sent after them.
When none of them returned either, one third of the Militia was sent to find the cause of their disappearance.
Of the twelve hundred soldiers that left to search for the patrols, only seventeen would return to describe what happened to the legion. Their tale would change the way people viewed the orcs the world over.
As the legion reached the last known site of the troops, they spotted several orcs fleeing into a narrow ravine.
Following them into the ravine, they spotted the mangled bodies of their fallen comrades. At that same moment, a wave of boulders fell from the surrounding cliffs, closing off their escape.
That was when the hundreds of enraged, trained elephants were let loose by the Deathfist orcs. At full speed, they began to stampede through the ravine... straight for the doomed Militia.
The Snow Orcs: During this time, the Snow Orc's numbers would be reduced drastically.
Having been driven to the eastern half of Everfrost Peaks, the Snow Orcs were wedged between the lair of a mighty dragon on one side and the ever-expanding mammoth-tusk trade on the other.
Were it not for a change in the way they used their weapons, the snow orcs would count this time period as their last on Norrath.
The shamans of the Snow Orc tribes would at times raise the bodies of the fallen, friend or foe alike.
These icy boned skeletons would then be sent loose to wander the frozen wastelands, attacking anything it would find. The Snow Orcs hoped that the skeletons would one day find a barbarian or adventurer and kill them.
By some unknown means, the Snow Orcs would change tactics and start using their undead minions with surprising efficiency.
Cleverly hiding their actions from everyone, the orcs would begin to bury many lines of skeletons beneath the snow outside the entrance to the great dragon's lair.
As great heroes would come running out of her lair holding some stolen artifact, a group of orc shamans would be waiting. At the precise moment, all of the shamans would raise the skeletons to life, trapping the raiding party inside a circle of hundreds of skeletons.
It wouldn't take long for the undead to overwhelm the heroes. The Snow orcs would then take the artifacts from the dead adventurers, flay the flesh from their bones, and add them to their army of undead.
The Crushbone Orcs : No one knows for sure where they acquired them, but by this time in history the Crushbone orcs would be seen carrying weapons of dark elf make.
Rumors tell of a dark elf ambassador being seen in the highest tower of the orc's castle, so it can only be assumed the orcs had brokered a deal with their people.
Considering the less than philanthropic nature of the dark elves, it is still a mystery as to what the orcs were providing in return.
The Crushbone orcs would claim a stunning victory against the elves of Kelethin one fateful day.
Amassing their highly trained armies, they launched an attack against both the dwarven city of Kaladim and the high elven city of Felwithe.
The residents of the tree city of Kelethin split their forces to help defend their allies' cities and were able to stop the orcish legionnaires with only minimal causalities.
Little did they know, the true target of the orcish assault was the city of Kelethin.
Attacking with their real army, the Crushbone orcs would succeed at chopping down two of the ancient trees supporting the wood elf city.
By the time the wood elves would return home and put a stop to the orcs, half of Kelethin would be destroyed.
Books
Scales in Balance This item can be placed on the floor in any house type.
This is a mastery tome. Use the knowledge contained within to gain a basic understanding of the tactics to use against the chosen foe.
"Scales in Balance" The scale tilts one way or the other, precariously balancing one side against the other.
"Hush, hush! It's the Herald!" Shazoor nudged her brother into silence.
The Herald of High Priestess Dar could be very strict, though he had once seemed to smile at them at a meeting of the faithful.
It had been a very long time since the Herald had come to preside over another such meeting.
Resherr grumbled beneath his breath, "I do not understand this waiting. The Herald always preaches that we must be patient. All I ask is for proof."
Shazoor hissed at him, "The adults are looking; be silent!"
Even though her brother fell silent, her heart filled with foreboding.
The unrest had not spread far in their community.
Small, crowded and far from the temples at the heart of the Overrealm, Shazoor and Resherr's home island was not often visited by the religious leaders of the Awakened.
Yet, even in this furthest and most insignificant outpost, the words of Lord Vyemm were heard.
The Herald's ceremonies and rituals took quite a long while to prepare, much less conduct.
To Resherr, it was precisely this time wasting behavior that Lord Vyemm spoke against. Why shouldn't he, Resherr, be able to choose how he wanted to spend his time?
If he could choose, he would not spend the day like this.
Shazoor felt her brother's impatient twitching and rolled her eyes.
Could he not sit still, just once? How hard could it be to let the Herald take them through the rituals again?
Even if Resherr were losing his faith, was that any reason for him to worry her, especially during the ceremonies? They brought such comfort.
The Herald's voice droned on and on. Occasionally, the Herald would gesture toward one of his attendants.
The attendant brought forth an offering prepared especially for that part of the ritual and the Herald completed its sacrifice.
At those moments, Shazoor would close her eyes briefly, for she still remembered the look in one of the offering's eyes when she had sat too close to the altars that time.
As prayers to Him rose around them, Resherr hissed at his sister, "Finally. I'm getting out of here."
He thrust his way through the crowd, ignoring the hisses of those he pushed aside. Resherr had had enough of ceremony and ritual.
Let Him appreciate these useless things all He wanted; Resherr was ready for action!
With a murmured apology, Shazoor followed her brother from the ceremonial grounds.
The paths were deserted, since everyone else was at the temple to see the Herald. Resherr, his wings twitching defiantly, was striding briskly away.
She had to half-run, half-fly to catch up with him.
"I'm leaving," Resherr said as she approached. He didn't pause or turn to look at her.
"You find comfort in these things but I do not," he said. "It is quite clear that our time is now, yet the High Priestess wastes our advantage waiting for His word."
Resherr finally stopped at the edge of the island and narrowed his eyes. "He has already spoken; the time is now."
"No, Resherr," Shazoor said, her own eyes glinting.
"You are listening to lies! Lord Vyemm seeks only his own glory, not His glory," Shazoor closed the gap between them and continued, "We are to wait. Will you not listen for His true word?"
Resherr snarled, "I have listened long enough."
"So be it," Shazoor said, unsheathing her weapon and leaping upon her brother.
He was unprepared for her assault, for Shazoor had always been the weaker sibling and never aggressor.
As she slashed him to the ground, Shazoor repeated fervently, "I do what He asks, with patience and in reverence. He will guide His us to our destiny!"
Books
Skeletons This item can be placed on the floor in any house type.
This is a mastery tome. Use the knowledge contained within to gain a basic understanding of the tactics to use against the chosen foe.
"Skeletons" by Trinni Mellosius -- Taking them apart and putting them together.
Skeletons are so common throughout Norrath, it's pretty wasteful to spend much time studying them. The good thing about skeletons, though, is that they are so numerous that studying them is a breeze.
If there's a graveyard, there'll be skeletons. The question is, what kind?
The best way to figure out what you'll encounter in any given graveyard is to look at what's alive in the area.
That's because skeletons are simply reanimated dead.
That puts skeletons into the category known as "undead," which includes creatures such as ghosts, ghouls and zombies.
Pretty much every living creature has a skeleton.
The nice thing about skeletons is that you can see everything you need to know about your enemy at a glance. Is it carrying a concealed weapon? That's mighty hard to do when you don't have any skin to hide it behind!
Let's take a look at orc skeletons as an example. Once you are familiar with skeletons, you'll know about the living orcs, too.
Seeing them from the inside out gives you the advantage in battle -- you will already know where the living orcs are vulnerable and tender.
First, look at the orc skeleton's skull. It is thicker at the front top than it is on the temples or at the back.
That means you'll want to attack them from the side whenever possible to knock them unconscious.
Although...it's hard to say that an undead creature actually has a conscious state even without you coshing it on the head.
The skeleton's neck is thin and much more vulnerable to a slashing attack.
This is not always true of living creatures which may protect their soft fleshy bits with studded collars and coifs.
The motto for the novice hunter is: look before you slash. If it's covered, see what is left wide-open, and redirect your attack appropriately.
Many skeletons wield the same weaponry as they would in life.
If the animated undead was a magic user, you can be assured that its skeletal counterpart is also a magic user.
In this case, it's handy to study the living creature instead to better know what damage skeletal creature is capable of doing.
For the most part, skeletons are fairly solitary.
They will however band together from their separate funereal plots to do whatever thing a particular sorcery has called them to life to do.
Or undead. It's hard to know what to call them since they are clearly not alive, but aren't necessarily dead!
Occasionally, skeletons are found beyond graveyards.
You can find them haunting areas where they existed in life. For example, you can see any number of skeletons in places like Stormhold.
These skeletons are likely bound to the last place their living self remembers and need to be re-killed in order to die. Except they're already dead, which means you can't kill them.
Hmm. Anyway.
When you come across a skeleton and you don't recognize what sort of creature it might once have been, imagine it covered in fat.
Often, we're surprised by how scrawny a skeleton is and forget that something like a giant may be big in the bone department, but lack some of the width its layer of skin and fat would cover.
Keep in mind that not everything has a skeleton. You'd feel pretty foolish telling someone you were fighting a Coldwind octopus skeleton, now, wouldn't you?
That's all I know about skeletons. Hopefully, you'll find this information useful.
If not, go do your own study on skeletons. It'll be easy; they're everywhere!
Books
Smiting of the Werewolf This item can be placed on the floor in any house type.
This is a mastery tome. Use the knowledge contained within to gain a basic understanding of the tactics to use against the chosen foe.
I was born with a fate upon my skin. I was but another in a proud line of devout werehunters. I studied the ancient texts of Djivan Mertshak, the lore of the Night Reapers, and the tales of fellow Freethinkers. Their battles against the lycanthrope abominations contained lessons. I learned all that I could of the beasts; their hunting, shape shifting, procreating, weaknesses, strengths, and of course their magic.
In time, I married, and had a family of my own. I continued to train, study the old texts, and hunt the tainted.
The elder Freethinkers began to task me with specific targets. Ones that were particularly treacherous and vile. With Marr's blessing, my silver blade vanquished den patriarchs and matriarchs, alike. And the wereclans are shaken to their defiled cores, due to it.
Then came the night in which Marr called to me! I had cornered a tired lycanthrope, and as my virulent, silver blade rose to deliver the mortal blow, the creature changed form. It dared look upon me from its profaned elven eyes.
"The sire, Krewrog, will be your downfall, hunter! Slay me. Your end is near." "None so near as yours!" I knew then that I had been given a charge of grand import, to cleanse Norrath of this "Krewrog."
I told the elder Freethinkers, but they discouraged me from hunting Krewrog. I had never known such folly and cowardice in such men! Marr demanded this cur be wuped from existence, and yet they order me to leave the hunt for another of the order! They had left the mission, but not I.
The monster proved to be more elusive, and more gruesome than I had even thought possible. I would find townsfolk, sometimes my own hunting companions, torn open.
The killings were messages. "Find me," they dared. I knew I was close on its trail, for the deaths were never a day old. But I was merely following a trail of grotesque destruction. I was not gaining any ground. I needed to gain the upper hand in this hunt.
I was contacted by an assassin one night, claiming to have been given superior skills through magics granted by Bertoxxulous. He offered me the same magics, but I was not about to accept such foulness.
Not a week later, I learned of a were beast that had been witnessed running from a local inn. I investigated the room that moment. Torn clothes were strewn about, but no blood, no victim. It was its den!
Then I spotted a silver locket was amongst the destruction. A locket I recognized! It had been mine, but lost in battle months prior. It held the likeness of my dear wife. My wife, my children!
With the speed of the wolf, I ran to me home. What I came upon will never leave my mind. What my eyes took in has been burned upon my very soul, like none other. Their bodies. The gore.
No libation, sleep or over indulgence could ever distract the grief, or the burning hate within me. my wife and infant daughter were butchered - torn apart by claws and teeth. The beast took delight in the grotesque!
I was blind with fury and sorrow as I looked for my son, Junge. But he was nowhere to be found. He was to be a man soon, and now he was gone, all of them were. The fault was with the Freethinkers for not aiding me in my hunt of this Krewrog from the start, and mine for not taking the upper hand when I could have.
The need for vengeance throbbed within me. It races through my very blood. I vowed to have it!
I returned to the assassin, and took the Bertoxxulian magics. It was only fitting to use magics of the disease god to kill one so willing to spread the lycanthropy disease. The spells worked better than I could have imagined. I could follow the beasts using the slightest of track; a speck of blood here, a hair there. They lit to my sight as if they burned!
I followed the trail of hair and saliva leading from my home towards the village of Somborn.
Foolishly, the beast was sticking to the cliffs and rougher terrain. A slower way, most likely trying to disguise its trail. I could bear it there! I saw my chance and laid a trap for the tainted creature between Wayunder Lake and Breathless Hallow.
The sun was soon to rise when the beast made its way through, and the trap sprung. How the beast howled and raged against the magical restraints that now bound him to the natural world around him!
Then I noted, this werewolf was not as big as the earlier witnesses had stated, and as I walked out of the shadows to confront it, it shifted. It turned from its Lujien form into a scared, young man, naked and shaking in magical bonds. it was my son. My own Junge, tainted by that disease!
Junge cried out, "Why are you doing this to me?" "Because you are an abomination." "But you brought this upon me!"
"I am sure Krewrog would have you think that way. That my hunting and my culling of his den mates and pack cousins somehow justified the tainting of my own son, but ultimately, responsibility lies with him... And now I will do what needs to be done, by the strength of Marr."
"What?! No, father! Sire!"
Krewrog took so much from me. Life was revenge now. Nothing more. The next day was stumbling grief, and hate. Tears of rage burned my throat, but would not cool the fire within my core. I knew I would find Krewrog within the village of Somborn.
So many of my previous targets were heading that direction, and I doubted it was all by luck. Something was drawing them to the village.
I found nothing suspicious with the townsfolk, or the village, itself. But I knew the folly of replying too much on the calm of daylight. I took up at a little tavern, and decided to wait it out. As the day waned, I grew more fidgety, and restless. I was shaking with insatiable rage for the beast I sought, or so I told myself. It was near dusk when I left the tavern. As I walked across the village, the night lit up for me.
I saw beast hair all around me, and could smell them on the wind! This village was full of the abomination!
I took leave of my senses and allowed the burning in my soul to take over. What had been bubbling under the surface I would no longer deny. It strengthened me beyond imagine. I felt something suppressing my analytical thought, and magnifying my baser thoughts and emotions!
The howl that ripped through the night chilled and exhilarated me. it was that of a werewolf on the prowl, even through the muddle of my mind I recognized it! That is when I could deny it no longer. The howl had been mine!
I was one of the defiled, and had been one for weeks! I reeled from the truth of it. How could it be that one would not know what they themselves do? It was then that I relived my dreams, and awkward mornings that suddenly made sense, and... Dear Marr! My family!
I am Krewrog and Junge knew it! But why was I allowed to love by the Freethinkers? Did they know? Were they using me, or the beast within? It mattered little now that the damage had been done. I could not check my need to go out into the night, but now that I was aware of the taint I carried, I was not about to put others in any more danger.
I woke the next morning in confusion, like so many others, but this one I no longer blamed on the drink of the night before. I knew what I was now, and what I had to do about it.
I have written this tale as a warning, and as a lesson for others to learn from. Face your inner demons! Do not bury them, nor feed them with rage. As for me, I have justice to administer. Marr purify this body with the melted silver from my armor. As I drink, bring my family the justice they deserve.
Books
Splitpaw Down Under, Part One This item can be placed on the floor in any house type.
This completed book can be placed in your house and read.
The Splitpaw gnolls proved to be a more dangerous adversary than the Rallosians had suspected, although not exactly for the reasons one might suppose. In Part One, we meet Gippy, a Splitpaw gnoll scout. Sort of.
It was Gippy's turn to watch that day. Gippy had paid Flemm to take his shift. Flemm forgot. And so the Rallosian Army was within a day's march before the gnolls of the Splitpaw Lair were aware of them. Over the years, the name of the den changed constantly depending on which gnoll clan was in the ascendancy; this season, the Splitpaws were in charge and they were not happy with Gippy.
"Look at them, there are rows after rows of them in armor and with weapons," grumbled Muddy, the current Splitpaw chief. "No thanks to you, Gippy." Gippy kicked Flemm, who said nothing. Muddy continued, "We can't trust you father than we can throw you, but we can throw you to the ogres now. Gippy, your job is head on out there and find out where the ogres are going. They best be going elsewhere, if you know what's good for you."
Grumbling the entire way, Gippy went to the armory and selected some gear. Many gnolls owned their own armor, but Gippy never saved enough to buy some and he was too lazy to make his own. Fortunately, the gnolls hoarded what they found through the Plains of Karana and lent it generously to its soldiers. "Can I get one without a hole in the chest?" Gippy asked the armorer. "You're just lucky I don't give you one with a target on it," the armorer grumbled. "Now git!"
Gippy felt the other gnolls did not appreciate his abilities. There was not a single copper that Gippy could not find a way to increase somehow and use to his benefit. Sure, he had nothing saved up, but he was generous. Why, half the gnolls on the scout team were on his payroll with tasks such as responding to his name during roll call or standing watch. Although, Gippy reflected, now he would need to find someone to replace the irresponsible Flemm who had let them all down.
The ogres were making no secret of their progress. Gippy watched in a fascinated horror as they circled the aviak town and razed it to the ground. He was so busy watching them and fretting that he did not see the Rallosian scout until the scout had him by one of his ears. "Ow! Ow! Let me go!" Gippy yelped in anguish. The Rallosian laughed, "No, you come with me and we'll see what you know."
"This doesn't look good," thought Gippy miserably as he and the Rallosian scout marched toward the Rallosian Army. For one thing, Gippy knew there weren't enough coppers clinking in his pockets to pay off anyone, let alone an ogre. He turned over scenarios in his mind and each of them had the same unfortunate endings -- Gippy on a stick, or Gippy roasting on an open fire, or Gippy for dinner. It was a sobering walk.
The scout pushed Gippy to the ground before the ogre lieutenant. "What's this? Who brought their pet dog to war?" laughed the lieutenant with a snarl. The ogres laughed with him and Gippy tried to laugh as well, but it came out as a nervous, high-pitched whimper instead. "What were you doing looking at us, dog?" snapped the lieutenant, yanking Gippy closer. So close that the ogre's most unpleasant breath wafted over Gippy in a suffocating cloud.
"Why, I've been waiting for you! You're late! The boss said you'd be here two days ago," Gippy said, throwing as much anger into his voice as possible. The ogre curled his fist and asked menacingly, "What do you mean, the boss? Do you speak of General Urduuk, dog?" "He's the chief, ain't he?" said Gippy saucily. "You're lucky he's not here or he'd flay you alive for the way you're treating me. I'll be sure he hears about this!"
The ogres glanced uneasily at one another. They knew that General Urduuk had made contacts and advances with various folk to speed the Army's advance...but a gnoll? A gnoll wearing an ill-fitting old hauberk with an enormous hole in the chest? "You don't seriously mean you don't know about me?" Gippy said, seizing their moment of confusion. "I guess General Urduuk doesn't trust you. Ah, me." He heaved a dramatic sigh and gave the lieutenant a pitying glance.
"Of course he trusts me!" shouted the lieutenant so that all his men could hear. "We've been at war and I...I forgot for a moment. We were just having sport with you, fuzzy face." The lieutenant gave another laugh, this one more cautious. "So why were you waiting for us?" Gippy brushed off his legs and straightened the old hauberk before responding with a haughty look, "I'm your guide."
Books
Splitpaw Down Under, Part Two This item can be placed on the floor in any house type.
This completed book can be placed in your house and read.
The Splitpaw gnolls proved to be a more dangerous adversary than the Rallosians had suspected, although not exactly for the reasons one might suppose. In Part Two, Gippy tries to play both sides. Entry One Put book away.
"So General Urduuk arranged a guide through Splitpaw, eh?" The Rallosian lieutenant considered this thoughtfully and for so long that Gippy thought the trick was up for sure. Then the lieutenant nodded and yelled, "The General provides for us! All hail Urduuk, the Arm of the Avatar!" The Rallosians took up the cry and Gippy joined them wondering whether he'd ever get his hearing back and what the General was doing with the arm of the...what was it? Entry Two Put book away.
The Rallosians outfitted Gippy in better armor. It was still a cast-off piece from a fallen foe, but at least this time there wasn't a gaping hole to leave his chest exposed. Gippy was liking the ogres better and better already. They invited him to play a game of thrown bones, but Gippy declined. "I need to go back to Splitpaw; keep them off their guard," he told the lieutenant. "You know how some gnolls are." The lieutenant didn't, but he wasn't going to gainsay someone working for the General. Entry Three Put book away.
Gippy walked slowly away from the Rallosian camp until he was out of arrow range, then ran toward Splitpaw as though the entire Army were at his heels. "What have you gone and done now, Gippy?" he asked himself over and over again as he ran. He tried out various ways out of the mess as he scampered along but they all had the same unfortunate ending -- Gippy with his throat slit, or Gippy burnt at the stake, or Gippy for dinner. Entry Four Put book away.
As soon as he reached the lair, Gippy headed for his room. He'd best pack up now before anyone knew he was there. Unfortunately, Muddy had known Gippy from the time Gippy was a pup and he knew all of Gippy's tricks. When Gippy flung open the door, two gnoll guards were waiting for him and they marched him back through the winding halls to meet with Muddy. Entry Five Put book away.
"Well? What are them ogres up to, Gippy?" demanded Muddy rather sourly. "They've destroyed the aviak town," Gippy said, adding, "They're heading this way next. We'd best pack up and leave." Muddy curled his lips back, baring his fangs. "Why are you in those clothes, Gippy? You're wearing the enemy's colors!" Gippy glanced down and shrugged, "I'm a scout, sir...it was the easiest way to slip in amongst the troops. Camouflage, you know." Entry Six Put book away.
"All right, we pack up and leave. Gippy, I don't know what you're trying to pull off or what sort of scam you've got going now. You're not telling us everything, or I'm a goblin," Muddy snapped. "You can stay behind with the rear guard and make sure the ogres get a traditional gnoll welcome." Gippy stretched his lips back into a smile. "Yes, sir!" he said with a crisp salute. What, he wondered, was a traditional gnoll welcome? Entry Seven Put book away.
"Wait, what's that?" Muddy asked suddenly, his ears twitching and his tongue tasting the air. Gippy heard something, too, a faint, rhythmic thrumming sound that rose out of the lair's floor and into his paws. "I'm not sure," Gippy said, "but it sure is catchy!" Muddy thwapped Gippy on the back of the head and snarled, "You idiot, them's war drums! Those ogres are coming!" Entry Eight Put book away.
The gnolls were not known for keeping their heads in the best of circumstances. With the ogres' drums getting louder by the minute, the lair was thrown into complete chaos. Gippy managed to pick quite a few pockets as gnolls rushed hither and yon, trying to figure out the best way to save their skins. With the pockets of his new armor filled with silvers, Gippy headed out of the lair's unguarded entrance and watched the Rallosian Army advance. Entry Nine Put book away.
At this distance, all the ogre units looked the same. Gippy furrowed his brow, wondering how he would locate the lieutenant who'd bought into his story about being their guide. Perhaps returning to the lair had been a bad idea. Gippy decided not to run through different plans in his mind; they always ended unhappily and he wanted to face this crisis a little more optimistically. Entry Ten Put book away.
To the Rallosians, all gnolls looked alike. It wasn't until after the Army had ransacked the lair and slapped all the gnolls they found (including Flemm, who'd fallen asleep in the kitchens) in irons that they realized their guide was missing. They found Gippy's body later, still wearing his Rallosian armor and as full of arrows as a pincushion, beside the entrance to the Lair. Close Book.
Books
Steppes Creature Catalog This item can be placed on the floor in any house type.
As I catalog various flora and fauna, I can refer to this book.
The Thundering Steppes is an area that is at once familiar and strange.
Wide, shallow valleys recall the Plains of Karana while lakes formed in the meteor strikes during the Shattering serve as a reminder that nothing is permanent, not even the shape of the lands.
The Thundering Steppes shares the continent of Karan with Antonica, separated by the high peaks of the Phantom Mountains.
Jutting southward like a sheathed dagger, the shores of the Steppes are formed by the waters of the Seafury.
Hills are steeper near the mountains and more gently sloped as they near the sea.
Wind and rain sweep across the rugged terrain and while the intensity may vary, the changing weather remains constant.
In the course of a day, one can see raging thunderstorms, bright sunny skies and light drizzles.
It pays to keep one's gear in good repair as the weather can take its toll on both metal and leather goods.
Pale green and gold, wild grass is plentiful across the plains.
It is particularly fascinating to stand (under some cover of course) and watch a wind storm sweep through the area, rolling the fine blades like waves on the sea.
Trees, though sparse, grow here as well, particularly acacia trees with their tiny leaves that let the winds blow through them without ripping them apart.
Many inhabitants from Ages past remain in the Steppes.
Centaurs form raiding parties and descend upon travelers, so it is wise to keep one's guard up. The hill giants can be particularly aggressive, although the centaurs work to keep them in check. The proximity to the sea brings an enchantment of sirens to the shore; beware the sound of their voices!
Books
Summoning an Elemental This item can be placed on the floor in any house type.
This is a mastery tome. Use the knowledge contained within to gain a basic understanding of the tactics to use against the chosen foe.
"Summoning an Elemental," by Amon Glibtongue -- Being the results of research into elemental summoning by a young mage in his quest to become a summoner.
Elementals are summoned beings and generally summoned at by higher level mages. In this book, we learn from the mistakes of mage-in-training Amon Glibtongue.
My name is Amon and I have been a mage now for about fifteen years. I am taking my tests to become a summoner. Again.
Mind you, I don't think it's entirely my fault what happened the previous times I took the test. Elementals are pretty tricky to master, which is why a summoner starts with the basics every time.
One of the basic tests for any mage-to-summoner is the ability to summon elementals.
They are drawn from the basic elements of the world: fire, water, earth and air. By combining various bits from each type of element, one can summon some pretty interesting creatures.
For testing purposes, a summoner chooses an elemental type and calls it forth. Success is measured by keeping control of it and releasing it only at the tester's word.
The first time I took the test, the tester required that I summon a fire elemental.
Now, ever since that little incident at the conservatory, I have avoided fire in any shape, much less as a summoned elemental.
The whole time I prepared the spell, I kept seeing the expression on that poor woman's face...it took all my concentration to banish that image and continue with the spell.
In any case, the fire elemental I summoned certainly looked correct.
Even the tester was surprised. Like any other fire elemental, my summoned creature rose from the fire pit and hovered there for a bit before floating over toward me.
Now, remember that I had a previous bad experience with fire and you will understand why I ducked.
Elementals cannot be harmed by physical means; one must use magic as they are magical creatures.
In the instant that I ducked, I lost what little concentration I had and that teeny, tiny waver caused my control over the elemental to snap like a twig. It engulfed the tester in an instant and it was all I could do to cast a counterspell to destroy my creation.
Needless to say, I did not pass the test that year.
When I came to take the test the following year, I explained carefully to the (new) tester that I was more aligned with air elementals.
What could go wrong with air, I reasoned, since it's only a bit of wind?
Later on, as we rebuilt the Academy proving grounds, my instructor noted that she had never seen such a powerful elemental, but suggested I might be more suited to water elementals should I decide to take the test again the following year.
A water elemental requires quite a bit of liquid nearby.
At the next test, I crafted the spell and cast it only to realize that we hadn't nearly enough water in the area as the spell left my lips.
Did you know that humans are made up mostly of water? Neither did I. Neither did the poor tester that year.
They asked me to come back again after the traditional year-long mourning period.
The last basic elemental for which I could test was the earth elemental.
This type of elemental does not require open flame, nor gusts of wind or large bodies of water. One need only have something earthy in the area that can be called forth.
Fortunately for the townspeople, earth elementals can be outrun.
My instructor suggested perhaps I might go to Freeport to take the tests there. In fact, she packed my belongings for me and paid someone to transport me through some pretty rough terrain.
We were beset by bandits at one point, and even though I am but a mage, I was able to send those miscreants running!
I am looking forward to taking the tests again.
Summoning is not for everyone, but if you learn from my mistakes I am sure you will be able to recognize the correct circumstances under which elementals may flourish.
Wish me luck with my tests and I wish you well with yours!
Books
Summoning an Elemental This item can be placed on the floor in any house type.
This completed book can be placed in your house and read.
Elementals are summoned beings and generally summoned at by higher level mages. In this book, we learn from the mistakes of mage-in-training Amon Glibtongue. Entry One Put book away.
"Summoning an Elemental," by Amon Glibtongue -- Being the results of research into elemental summoning by a young mage in his quest to become a summoner. Read book Put book away.
My name is Amon and I have been a mage now for about fifteen years. I am taking my tests to become a summoner. Again. Mind you, I don't think it's entirely my fault what happened the previous times I took the test. Elementals are pretty tricky to master, which is why a summoner starts with the basics every time. Entry Two Put book away.
One of the basic tests for any mage-to-summoner is the ability to summon elementals. They are drawn from the basic elements of the world: fire, water, earth and air. By combining various bits from each type of element, one can summon some pretty interesting creatures. For testing purposes, a summoner chooses an elemental type and calls it forth. Success is measured by keeping control of it and releasing it only at the tester's word. Entry Three Put book away.
The first time I took the test, the tester required that I summon a fire elemental. Now, ever since that little incident at the conservatory, I have avoided fire in any shape, much less as a summoned elemental. The whole time I prepared the spell, I kept seeing the expression on that poor woman's face...it took all my concentration to banish that image and continue with the spell. Entry Four Put book away.
In any case, the fire elemental I summoned certainly looked correct. Even the tester was surprised. Like any other fire elemental, my summoned creature rose from the fire pit and hovered there for a bit before floating over toward me. Now, remember that I had a previous bad experience with fire and you will understand why I ducked. Entry Five Put book away.
Elementals cannot be harmed by physical means; one must use magic as they are magical creatures. In the instant that I ducked, I lost what little concentration I had and that teeny, tiny waver caused my control over the elemental to snap like a twig. It engulfed the tester in an instant and it was all I could do to cast a counterspell to destroy my creation. Needless to say, I did not pass the test that year. Entry Six Put book away.
When I came to take the test the following year, I explained carefully to the (new) tester that I was more aligned with air elementals. What could go wrong with air, I reasoned, since it's only a bit of wind? Later on, as we rebuilt the Academy proving grounds, my instructor noted that she had never seen such a powerful elemental, but suggested I might be more suited to water elementals should I decide to take the test again the following year. Entry Seven Put book away.
A water elemental requires quite a bit of liquid nearby. At the next test, I crafted the spell and cast it only to realize that we hadn't nearly enough water in the area as the spell left my lips. Did you know that humans are made up mostly of water? Neither did I. Neither did the poor tester that year. They asked me to come back again after the traditional year-long mourning period. Entry Eight Put book away.
The last basic elemental for which I could test was the earth elemental. This type of elemental does not require open flame, nor gusts of wind or large bodies of water. One need only have something earthy in the area that can be called forth. Fortunately for the townspeople, earth elementals can be outrun. Entry Nine Put book away.
My instructor suggested perhaps I might go to Freeport to take the tests there. In fact, she packed my belongings for me and paid someone to transport me through some pretty rough terrain. We were beset by bandits at one point, and even though I am but a mage, I was able to send those miscreants running! I am looking forward to taking the tests again. Entry Ten Put book away.
Summoning is not for everyone, but if you learn from my mistakes I am sure you will be able to recognize the correct circumstances under which elementals may flourish. Wish me luck with my tests and I wish you well with yours! Close Book.
Books
Tales of the Alliz Ew This item can be placed on the floor in any house type.
This is a mastery tome. Use the knowledge contained within to gain a basic understanding of the tactics to use against the chosen foe.
"Tales of the Alliz Ew," translated by Pearl Honeywine -- Being a collection of short stories by anonymous lizardmen of both the Alliz Evol Ew and the Alliz Tae Ew of the Feerrott. As these are translations, they can be somewhat difficult to grasp but are worth a look.
The ferocity of the lizardmen of the Feerrott is legendary, yet it seems there is another side to the stories told of them by outsiders. This is a collection of short stories written by lizardmen and translated from the Rallosian.
"Two Tales." You speak of those with two minds, two hearts and I speak of the two tales.
The first tale, my brethren, listen! For the ogres listened not and all that remains are our memories, longer than the tail of the Queen.
Did they forget their promise? Yes, it seems that they did forget and will pay the price. The Temple of Cazic-Thule, set aside from them, yet they forgot. --
-- In the long-ago did Rallos, the god of War and mighty Cazic-Thule cross hands and agree that the army of one would not defile the Temple of the other. Yet, the Rallosians forgot this and in they crossed the Temple's threshold to declare the Temple was theirs! --
-- In the long-ago did this happen, where the Rallosians stood in the Temple and gloated over its treasures and put the blood of the Alliz Ew into the sacrificial vessels as should not have been done, no ritual or rite to purify.
And yes, they later paid but in the hour of our need, we could do nothing but gnash our teeth and thrash our tails. --
-- That is the first tale, the ending which I need not tell for all know how that vile army was destroyed.
The second of my tales talks of the Alliz Tae Ew, those that now are found inside the Temple that remains. To the east, they are and inside the Temple itself, they are.
They are strong of will and in their worship of the darkness, did participate in the rituals of darkness such that they now do not see. The weak, they will eat. So say I, and so it is.
"The Vessel." Carved of stone, its surface is black from the years of use. Wide is the brim and it is shallow.
Handles once it had that were defiled by the Rallosians, yet its purpose is not changed. In service will they offer their blood, whether willing or not. Stained it is, as are the Alliz Tae Ew, by the precious offerings made to the gods and the Queen.
Shallow may be the vessel, but deep is the honor with which we use it.
"The Vines." The vines hang low to tangle those who do not look. Mists that thicken the air swirl around to cloak us in grey.
Look! You are in the path and see me not. I raise my spear -- the spear of my forefathers, cut at the right time of the old moon and dipped in bitter juices. Up I raise my arm, slowly.
Listen! The whistle of the spear slicing the air. You hear it not in time to move, only in time to fear.
Over and again, I raise my spear!
The fallen see me not, just as they see not the vines.
"The Hand." In the long-ago, He walked among us and reaching out His hand, touched one or another, beckoning.
They could not but bend to His will and He caused them to begin the crafting of His statue. Always they would start with His hands, shaping them from wrist to fingertip.
Yet when He would return to His other charges, they would cease to carve, and so upon His return, they began again. At His wrist.
And so we say, that is why that is what is left.
"Green Dawn." They trampled us and defiled the Temple. Then they moved onward, slaying all those in their path and we watched.
We felt it from the distance, eating what we could and waiting. They pressed onward and thought everyone would fall before them.
Until the day of the Green Dawn, when we felt the cloud fall upon the Rallosian Army like thick mist. Their cries we heard and heeded not and in the dawn of the next day, they lay defeated and inedible.
"Waterfall." The river flows through the valley, mist curling from the surface in the heat. The darkness is great, broad leaves keeping out the light and trapping the sounds.
We took the captives to the river to purify them and one worked free from his bindings and jumped into the river, seeking to hide beneath the vapors on its surface.
We found some the next day on the shore where the waterfall meets the sea.
Not all lizardmen are literate, or even capable of speaking anything but their own language.
It is fascinating to see something of their thoughts from stories written in their own language and translated. To know more about them would be very interesting, indeed.
Books
Termble Clankerbang Findings Vol. 98 This item can be placed on the floor in any house type.
This completed book can be placed in your house and read.
This book is titled "Termble Clankerbang Findings Vol. 98." It is the journal of a gnome and how he came across an odd tower made from black stone.
Entry One: This log will chronicle the recorded findings of an interesting structure I have found today. Having spent much time analyzing the rocks of this dark forest, I came across a construction that I am pretty sure wasn't there yesterday. I must admit I was engrossed with a marvelous formation of limestone in the surrounding area, so I must write it off to being preoccupied.
Entry Two: I have brought all of my equipment to the surrounding area so that I can run experiments in a far more efficient manner. From my visual inspection of this obelisk-like structure, I'd say I'll need to start with a strata-bifurcating dowel to acquire a sample. Yes, yes... a strata-bifurcating dowel indeed.
Entry Three: I have found that the stone that was used to create this building is unlike anything I've ever seen before in my years of geology. Having resisted all attempts at the strata-bifurcating dowel, I have been unable to acquire even the most meager of samples from the facade. I will now tinker up a means to add some type of added force to the dowel. I am certain this will do the job.
Entry Four: Having devised a small corkscrew to add an automated means of hammering at the obelisk, I was certain I would chip away a piece of rock in no time. Unfortunately, I still haven't even scratched this blackened stone. I now must resort to increasing the power on this pump to a drastic level. I will continue my log of recorded events when I have tinkered a new way of increasing the force of my dowel.
Entry Five: After much tinkering, including adding hastily devised gyroscopes, cylindrical valves, and an external power source comprised of a wheel being turned by the surrounding falls, I have done it! This rock sample is far heavier than it would initially appear. Being no bigger than a large pebble, it weighs about as much as a small elephant. I fear that I will now have to devise a cart to bring this back to my camp.
Entry Six: By boiling the water from the mouth of the waterfall and forcing it through several pipes, I have been able to make a cart that will both move on its own and also support the weight of this odd rock. Fortunately I only have to move the rock two-hundred cogs back to my camp. Any farther and I fear my contraption might not be able to hold out.
Entry Seven: Blast it! I was so close, too! My automatical-cart-traveler was unable to make it the full way. I have spent the better part of today moving my makeshift laboratory to where the cart broke down, five cogs away. I am nearly done, so I should be able to analyze this curious rock. I believe I shall see what levels of conductivity this rock is capable of.
Entry Eight: Important note - do not artificially supply forms of electricity to this rock, which I am now calling obeliscore. Using a jury-rigged Akanon's Ladder, I introduced some portable lightning to the rock. At first I believed it had suffused the lightning. I was shocked to see that it not only absorbed it, but apparently could not contain it for long. A moment later it released the charge in the direction of my valuable equipment. I must now see what can be salvaged.
Entry Nine: I was unable to recover much of my equipment. Fortunately, I was able to get my portable Keg-er-ator back online, but to my misfortune, one of the hoses burst. I was unaware that it was blowing heat-absent air directly on the stone for quite a while. When I stopped it from doing so, the cold discharged in such an intensity that it froze everything within a hundred cogs. I write this with great difficulty, now missing several fingers, a few toes, and the tip of my nose due to that horrible release of arctic air.
Entry Ten: Though I have already lost several digits, and even more importantly, my equipment to this pebble, I cannot leave it behind without recording the full effects of the stone's properties. Chopping down a number of trees, I am about to light a very large bonfire on top of the stone. I am quite curious to see how much heat will be discharged after it has had time to absorb several hours worth of fire. I'm looking forward to recording my findings in this journal once I have returned from the bonfire.
Books
The Amygamalion - The Dulling This item can be placed on the floor in any house type.
This completed book can be placed in your house and read.
This book is titled "The Amygamalion - The Dulling". It appears to be a myth concerning the history of the Amygdalans.
We are Amygdalan, and we are that which tastes the amyg of this world. Though all of the emotion feeds us, the most pleasing is the true amyg that comes from the minds of the Lesser Emotions creations. Our history is the only true history, for everything else is but a lie told to placate the minds of the fearful.
Within the Dulling a home was needed, so we Amygdalan looked to what was within our means. The world around us is rich in feeling, but we needed that which would not overwhelm us. The lizardmen of the First Thought were within the Dulling as well, exiled from the true home. They would be the ones to build the home for the Amygdalan.
Tasting their fear, the lizardmen set forth to create a great home in memory of the ones we held within the First Thought. Much was done on their part, and we fed them with the drained husks of those ripe with the taste of Amyg. We would consume the toys of He who is Cazic-Thule, with taste of the Great Beasts were far more pleasing. Their amyg would become bitter and flat as time would pass.
Our home pleased us, but we were no longer within the presence of the Source of Amyg. We would take once again those whose flavor would not overwhelm us and set them to creating a new temple. They would labor and upon their completion, we would chant to the Great Emotion. And he would come in the form of the Quintessence.
The Quintessence would walk among our temple built to honor him. This pleased the Source of the Amyg and would allow us to return to the First Thought. Rejoicing at being accepted within the true world, we would flee the Dulling. Time would pass unnoticed within the First Thought until the Prismatic Aggression would come. Then we would remember our hunger.
Basking in the Source of Amyg, we would forget the flavors of fear. The Prismatic Aggression breached the First Thought through our own portal and brought their metals and their pains. The Great Emotion would eventually have to reach out and smite these mortals, for their numbers were too great. This would be the sign of True Exile.
He who is Cazic-Thule would geas our people to return to the Dulling. This was not out of anger, but instead an honor. The Source of Amyg was to chastise Lesser Emotions for the folly of their creations. We Amygdalan would be charged with preparing for when the Source of Amyg would return from inflicting punishments. The pain was lessened, as well, for we knew the varieties of fear were endless within the Dulling. We would feast as we once had.
Though we were no longer in sight of the Source of Amyg, He would send us a new Quintessence. Taking our charge, we hid away the Quintessence within the most sacred of hearts in the temple. For many changings of the two moons, the Quintessence would act out upon the wish of He who is Cazic-Thule. Just as It undertook Its task, so we too would prevent the fresh tasting Great Beasts from entering the temple. Sadly, we underestimated how fast they could stop the flow of amyg from their minds.
We failed at the only thing the Source of Amyg asked of us. We could not keep the Quintessence kept away in safety, and we called upon the Great Secret to help us. The Great Beasts destroyed the honor to the Source of Amyg. They disrupted the Quintessence. They brought upon the cessation of all their future emotions though releasing the Great Secret. And now we await our punishment for our own failure.
The punishment has begun. The lizardmen have rebuilt the temple by our command, but it is not enough. The Great Winged Lizardman has come to the temple of He who is Cazic-Thule. The Winged One is only the beginning of our punishment. But Winged One's pain is not as vicious as it will taste when the Source of Amyg returns to see what how we have failed His Quintessence.
Books
The Amygamalion - The Form This item can be placed on the floor in any house type.
This completed book can be placed in your house and read.
This book is titled "The Amygamalion - The Form". It appears to be a myth concerning the god Cazic-Thule.
In the time before the land was flowing with thought and emotion, there were those who were the only ones who felt. The source of Amyg was amongst these beings that were the only keepers of emotion. Being the first, He did not know of solid forms nor did He need them. But as the other Lesser Emotions would take forms, He too, would see a need to do the same.
In His great wisdom, He chose to observe the other Lesser Emotions and watch as they chose a solid form. Once these great feelings would complete their transformation, the Amyg would take a form that was even greater than all the rest. This would show His magnitude among the Lesser Emotions so that they would know their place in the world.
He went forth to Lesser Emotion that chose its form first. Being the most solid, the source of Amyg that is called Cazic-Thule asked what form he should take. The keepers of the slow emotions of earth told the Source of Amyg to choose one that was more solid than anything that could be. And the form He that is Cazic-Thule took was that of the most solid of all stone.
He then went forth to the Emotion that felt the strongest among the Lessers. He asked the keeper of fire what form He should take, and the Emotion of Fire quickly responded in an abrupt manner. Saying that the Source of Amyg should choose one that is quick to react and all consuming, He changed his stone form to that of slow moving lava.
Watching from afar, He who is Cazic-Thule went and spoke with the winged Emotion that flitted throughout the air. Asking which form should be taken, the Source of Amyg was given many answers but nothing that was considered too long. Knowing that this Lesser Emotion changed her feelings as often as the wind turned its course, He moved on.
Finding the Emotion that flows in a sickening manner, the Source of Amyg took showed much patience in listening to the watery Lesser Emotion. The flowing water told He who is Cazic-Thule to pick a form that ebbed and flowed. Taking this information, the Source of Amyg released His form into a flow of Lava, spreading all over the land. He who is Cazic-Thule was nearly lost to us all, for He now was everywhere at once, but nowhere at all. This transgression would never be forgotten.
As the Source of Amyg struggled to regain His form, He had much time to dwell upon His anger. The Lesser Emotion of nothing came to Him and told Him to not struggle. For the advice of this great Nothing was to not take any form at all. Knowing that His wisdom was far greater than this Lesser Emotion's, He chose to disregard these words.
The next of the Lesser Emotions came to Him. Of all the Lessers, this one was the strongest and paid true fealty to the Source of Amyg. Telling Amyg to feel as strongly as him, this emotion of hatred allowed He who is Cazic-Thule to think upon whom did this to him. Gathering all of this Emotion's power, Cazic shaped His face into that of Hatred's.
As he entered His realm, The First Thought, the Source of Amyg was approached by an Emotion-That-Is-Not. The Emotion told him that His face was the same as that of the Lesser Emotion of loathing, making Him no better than one less than Him. This pestilent ridden Emotion-That-Is-Not helped the Source of Amyg to shape his face into one that would show what He really was. Unlike the face of seething, He who is Cazic-Thule now possessed a smooth worm-like body, yet His face was now great and mighty.
Content with His new form, the Source of Amyg was approached by one last Emotion. This one bubbled with mirth and glee which tastes sour upon our minds. He advised the Great One to shape His entire form to match His mighty visage. Knowing that He was greater than all the rest, the Source of Amyg pushed His form to the utmost extreme, achieving a greatness unlike none other. This Lesser Emotion of giddiness left the presence of the Great One, filled with its sour smell. And so was it that this small Emotion was the wisest of all the Lessers, for now He who is Cazic-Thule now possesses the most refined of all of the forms of the Lesser Emotions.
Books
The Amygamalion - The Four That Are We This item can be placed on the floor in any house type.
This completed book can be placed in your house and read.
This book is titled "The Amygamalion - The Four That Are We". It appears to be a myth concerning the creation of the Amygdalans.
The great world that sets beneath our feet is not the true world. This land is but a false image of what truly is, for we are exiles from our true home. This land is the Dulling, whereas we come from the First Thought. We are made from the First Thought, and we feed upon it as well. We are Amygdalan, and we are from the Source of Amyg. But to know where we are, you must know why we are.
As the Source of Amyg sat upon His mighty throne and gazed upon the First Thought, He would observe the Lesser Emotions infusing their feelings into even lesser versions of themselves. The Great Emotion was not pleased by this sight, for He did not give His approval. Feeling a forbidden emotion, he created from his mind four forms that took shape - Horror, Fright, Dread, and Terror.
His four children were given a part of the First Thought to do with as they pleased. He who is Cazic-Thule would amuse Himself by watching their antics, being far more interested in his realm than the Dulling. The Dulling was the false world that the Lesser Emotions played upon and was beneath the Source of Amyg.
Though the four children existed, they too had nothing to occupy their time with. So again, in the ineffable wisdom of the Source of Amyg, He shaped a lizard into a form not unlike that of his children. The lizardmen offered the Four much to play with now. He who is Cazic-Thule enjoyed watching as they scattered to the four corners of the First Thought, forever fleeing the Four.
Soon the Source of Amyg would watch as the Lesser Emotions would continue making lesser versions of themselves upon the Dulling. To remind them of the greatness of He who is Cazic-Thule, He would make another toy to play upon the Dulling with the other lessers. Soon enough, He would bore of these toys, turning his attention back to the First Thought.
The Source of Amyg desired a new enjoyment, so he created two more children from his mind. Granting more of himself to these new toys, he created the Secondary Thoughts Thought for them to play within. This would not escape the attention of the Four, his first children. They would speak among themselves and decided to go to their father and demand their own realms, as well.
Standing before the Throne of Amyg, the Four would insist they be given more. He who is Cazic-Thule felt pride in his children and told them that he would take them to a place of their own. He took the Four and placed them into his massive hands and squeezed his palm together. Where there were once Four, there was now One. He then squashed the One with his fist, splitting the One into Two, then Four, then Eight, until the number could not be counted anymore. We still bear the mark of the Four upon our face to remind us from where we came.
The Source of Amyg then told the many that they would take the name of what he is. And thus we were named Amygdalan. He would teach us things about who we were through the wisest of our numbers. We would know our four fathers and we would know the Amyg. We would taste many emotions, but we would feed only from fear to honor the Source itself. The lizardmen were our supply, and they would feed us for many eons to come.
Soon enough the lizardmen no longer were able to feed us Amygdalan, for our numbers were many. He who is the Source offered another gift to his children and told us where we could find more amyg to feed from. Listening to His divine wisdom, we created a great ball filled with much amyg. When this ball was done, the Source of Amyg would then send it forward to a place we would call the Dulling.
Much time would pass, and we would remain hungry. From time to time, there would be morsels oozing with all different flavors of amyg that would come to us, but this was never enough to sate our appetites. He who is Cazic-Thule would ultimately tell us that it was time for us to guide ourselves and banished us to the Dulling. Now we stand here where the world is flat and solid. Yet here, within the Dulling, we can feast until our brain-lobes are gorged with pure amyg. Pure fear.
Books
The Archtome of Haoaera This item can be placed on the floor in any house type.
A leather-bound bundle of finely-crafted animal skin parchments, each page written in clawstroked Common.
So presented is the Archtome of Haoaera, the chronicle of our race.
Translated to Common by Dithrak the Wise for the benefit of those who travel here and wish to understand our ways.
(From the Book of Ukan)
.... As Rokan the Elder considered the differences between the fish and the mammals of the sea, he beheld the land animals and learned of the ones who sprang not from eggs. Then Reveskius appeared and showed him which of these were fit to be hunted and eaten, and which were to be ignored. Small game that crawled on four legs without shells might be eaten freely by a single spiroc, whereas game that walked rather than crawled might be hunted by more than one spiroc, especially if they moved in packs. Reveskius did then commune with Rokan for a time and showed him the many rules of hunting which he was to pass on to his children, and they to their own children, so that the chosen of Reveskius need not appeal directly to him for food.
(From the Book of Bargrak)
'...All threats to your rookeries, eyries, and villages are to be destroyed', Reveskius said. 'The beings of other lands must not harm you, and many will try to appeal to your noble natures in order to insinuate themselves within your trust. Know a living being by its nature. If it makes war upon you, if it disturbs these quiet lands and the peace you require to spawn new eggs, if it does not ignore your eggs but instead abuses them, or if it eats more than the portion of food that a grown spiroc may eat, and helps itself to food and game that have been set aside for the children of Haoaera and returns less food than it is consuming, then that creature must be sent away and warned never to return.
If these creatures refuse such warnings and return to your lands, then you must slay them without mercy, lest their ways interfere with your own, lest they breed in greater numbers than shall you, lest they drive you out of your own lands and ruin all that you have made...'
(From the Legend of Eagrik)
...Then Reveskius, taking pity on Eagrik for having fulfilled all but the lsat of his challenges, spoke to him these words: 'Eagrik, Champion of the Haoaerans, who has fought so hard for his people, who has accepted my challenges yet has failed the last of these, I do pity you. Your challenge to me has proven fruitless.' Eagrik looked upon Reveskius with weariness and said, 'I, like the rest of my kin, tire of your games. We have long revered you, Reveskius, but we need you no longer. We must be free to roam where we will without fetter.'
Reveskius smiled upon his former champion and said, 'Eagrik, your impudence is the curse of your race. You dare to defy me? See what becomes of those who earn my wrath!' Then did Reveskius pick Eagrik up in his mighty taloned claws, and slowly squeezed the life from his body. But even as Eagrik's friends cried out in horror, so did Eagrik find the heart of Reveskius with his spear, and this the great and ancient roc who had long protected the Haoaerans was slain.
'Behold, Reveskius has been killed,' said the priests, who became unnerved and began to wail and cry. Eagrik stood then among them and said, 'It is no longer necessary to submit to the whims of this creature, which is now dead,' Eagrik declared. 'But what will become of us now?' whispered the high priest. 'The teachings of Reveskius were the foundation of our culture!' Eagrik looked at them and replied, 'And so shall they remain, for his teachings remained sound even if his motives did not...'
(From the Trials of Shoshak)
...So the elders of Haoaera and Gorowyn did see the need for archivists to live among them, writing down all that was seen and done and talked about, in the manner of the wingless ones from distant shores. This occupied the archivists with activity and made them happy; the leaders of the village had records of their words written down to help them avoid a great many arguments later and they too were made happy;
the artisans of Gorowyn no longer needed to occupy their time with verbally passing down their wisdom to their fledgling apprentices but could make them read parchments of instructions instead, and were also happy. Shoshak determined to write down the most important legends and sayings and beliefs of the Haoaerans into a great bundle, an Archtome which would preserve the essence of the people for eons...
(From the Tale of Whitefeathers)
...Then did Whitefeathers throw his head back and cry out to the gods, saying 'That you shall not forsake us, we shall make our mark upon this land!' All then donned a stonepick and followed him to the great greystone plinth of Chrykori, and proceeded to carve it into a great statue in the image of their champion, the people found new purpose and threw themselves beak and claw at this for thirty fortnights, whereupon the work was done and Eagrik stood above them once more, his stone likeness proudly facing southward, as if watching over the seas for signs of invaders...
(From the Thoughts of Korryk Shortbeak)
'...This day of wonders, of the opening of an ancient chamber hitherto unknown to us deep within the wall of the volcano, saw our excitement give way to concern as we tried to think of what we should do with the creatures found in the strange glass tubes. We do not know what dark magic set these devices here within our sacred mountain, but perhaps they are meant as a gift from the gods? If so I fail to comprehend this divine caprice... these scaly creatures seem unfit for anything but brutish labor. Perhaps after we have released them from the glass tubes we can learn more about them...'
(From the Thoughts of Korryk Shortbeak)
'The first of the creatures released from the glass cylinders failed to respire and soon died. We worried over this a bit and decided to bury its body in the ground in the manner of the flighless tool-users. The second attempt to open a glass tube went better. We were able to revive it and get it to talk. It knew nothing but gibberish so it was necessary to spend some time working on communication... I fail to see why the creator of these beings did not provide a single thing for their sustenance, forcing us to feed the creatures with our own rookery stuff...'
(From the Thoughts of Korryk Shortbeak)
'... that after the incident in Timorous Maw it is clear to all that the Sar'Nak are unworthy to be called friends, are unfit for labor, and are undesirable even as pets. We notice that even the gentlest of them eats more than his weight twice over in a month, making their appetites unsustainable in Gorowyn or anywhere else nearby. They seem to be bred for battle, they think only of their honor and spend their time chattering about rules of warfare and the manner of rule they should like to see us Haoaerans adopt.
Further, they never seem to tire of picking duels with us. The village council has decided that the creatures are to be destroyed. The teachings of Reveskius are clear on this matter, as are the tribal laws, but even without them we can see there can be no co-existence. We shall put them to death tomorrow night, as they sleep. As I write this I feel the chill of destiny upon me, for I shall be one of the ones bearing a dagger and wielding it with malice. My sadness and frustration at wasting a whole year attempting in vain to coexist with these creatures is matched only by my fervent desire to be rid of them forever...'
(From the Thoughts of Kraw Lockbeak)
'...would not have had us make the attack last night, and we should have listened. We might then have devised a better plan. As it was, when we crept into the sleeping chamber where the Sar'Nak were gathered, a torchfire was lit by one of them, who cried out. Of the few dozen Sar'Nak in the room, nearly all came awake at once and attacked us, for we had entered their sleeping quarters unannounced with weapons drawn. All hope of killing them quietly in their sleep had gone, and even our plan to escape with all of our feathers intact was now in some doubt.
A fight immediately broke out, and the room filled with the sounds of battle. I swear by Eagrik's statue, the Sarnaks were enjoying themselves, though they howled angrily of our betrayal. As we fought our way back to the main chamber I noticed that both Korryk Shortbeak and Swak Pettyfeathers had fallen. Perhaps eight or nine Sar'Nak fell in battle as well, but that is poor payment for the sacrifice of both Korryk and Swak. Having escaped, we have spread warnings and hope to keep the Sar'Nak at bay in the tunnels of the lower city. With good use of archers we might keep them from threatening the rookery levels...'
Books
The Blood of the Bear, Part One This item can be placed on the floor in any house type.
This completed book can be placed in your house and read.
Legends are often told of ancient times. The storytellers of the Northlands tell this story as a legend, even though it is from a relatively recent past.
In the time of Growth, when the birds return to the trees and the sun rises higher in the sky, the children of the Northlands look to the awakening of the bears as the final signal that Growth is upon them. Hungry from their long sleep, the bears come closer to the villages and towns. Therefore, each village has a family whose duty is to ensure the bears do not come into the village and threaten them.
One day,a young woman named Kiva went into the forest to gather firewood. As she turned to head home, her foot slipped on a patch of ice and she stumbled, scattering the firewood across the snow. Before she could stand again, a large hand reached toward her and she gasped, staring upward at the tallest man she had ever seen in her life.
"I did not mean to frighten you," he said, his rich voice lilting with an odd tone Kiva had never heard before. He pulled her easily to her feet and helped gather the scattered wood. He carried the wood for her to the edge of her camp and smiled at her. "Who are you?" she asked. "My name is Benno," he replied. "I am glad to be of service." Benno bowed low, then slipped away into the woods as silently as he had appeared.
Kiva belonged to the family of bear watchers of her village. She looked forward to sitting the long watches of the night with her spear by her side, guarding the village. Kiva loved sitting just outside the edge of the camp fire's light to gaze upon the stars. Though Growth was upon them, the nights were still long, crisp and clear and the stars so bright she felt as though she could reach out her hand to touch them.
One night as she sat watch, she heard a rustling sound in the nearby brush and stood, gripping her spear. "Who is there?" she called, cautiously approaching the area, but she saw nothing but the tracks of a bear in the light crust formed on the top of the snow. Furrowing her brow, she resolved to keep a closer eye on the village and not on the skies.
During her watches now, Kiva thought about Benno. He was not of her village; his voice had an odd inflection she could not place. But he spoke Halasian as did she and he was very handsome. Gazing upwards into the stars, Kiva wondered where he came from and whether she might see him again. At that moment, she heard the rustling in the woods again where the bear had left its tracks. Kiva grabbed her spear and edged her way toward the noise, careful not to make any sounds
Benno stood at the edge of the woods. He smiled at her, "I hope you do not mind; I wanted to see you again." Kiva blushed and Benno stepped closer. "When first I saw you sitting here beside your fire and looking to the sky, I knew you are a dreamer, as am I," he said. Suddenly, they heard a bear in the undergrowth nearby.
Kiva gripped her spear and looked toward the noise, but Benno put his hand on her arm. "The bears do not come to kill; they come to look," he said softly. "Some say the bears come to find a mate among the Northmen, so they may share their strength." A large, shaggy bear emerged from the woods, looked at Kiva and Benno, then lumbered away again.
"You see? He did not come to harm you," Benno smiled, then slipped into the woods with a quick wave. Though she looked for him again over the next few days, Kiva did not see him. Kiva began to think she had hit her head that day she fell with her firewood and had imagined him into being.
Though Growth was upon the Northlands, the changes were not as sweeping as they are in the distant south. Snow and ice still cover the ground, but the lands feel more awake to those who know them best. The children of the Northlands, scattered by the invasion of the Horde, looked to each new season with hope in their hearts that this season, they would retake their homes. The Horde had not come yet to Kiva's village.
Books
The Blood of the Bear, Part Three This item can be placed on the floor in any house type.
This completed book can be placed in your house and read.
This brings to a close the Northland legend told of Kiva and Benno, who helped bring victory to the Northmen.
Once they reached the river, Benno picked Kiva up to carry her across the icy water. An arrow flew past them, then another. Without breaking stride, Benno retreated into the woods with Kiva still in his arms. He made an angry sound that reminded Kiva of a growl. The Horde had come to this part of the Northlands at last.
"We will cross lower down," Benno said, his dark eyes glittering. "I will take you back to your village; they are here for me." Kiva said, "The Horde care nothing for whom they kill." Benno shook his head. "They have seen me and know where I am from." He put Kiva gently on the ground and took her face into his hands. "I am not what I seem," he said and Kiva gasped as she recognized him. He was of the bear people.
Benno nodded. "It is true; I am a bear. From the moment I first saw you, I knew that I must stay with you; that is why I am in this form. Now, we must hasten away. The Horde hunts me for my blood. They drink it, thinking it will give them my strength -- but that is not how one becomes a bear." Benno kissed her forehead and said, "You are now marked by a bear."
Kiva listened intently; the mark Benno had placed on her forehead gave her the sharp hearing of the bear. She could hear the Horde cursing farther up the river. Staying close behind him, Kiva followed Benno as he loped through the woods until he came to a place where they could cross the river safely. Picking her up again, Benno crossed the river and they headed toward her village.
"Your people will be safe in my cave," Benno said. Kiva shook her head. "No, we will not hide," she said. "The Horde thinks to overrun all the Northland but we cannot let them. If we defeat them here, it will give strength to our people." Benno nodded. "Then we will fight. I will go with you." The pair ran swiftly back to Kiva's village where they sounded the alert. The defenses were swung into motion while they made their plans.
"The Horde is at the river; orcs only and I sense they are afraid of something," Benno told the village elders once Kiva introduced him. "I know not what. This is the time to push them back. Push them back beyond Halas." The village leaders agreed. This time they would be the aggressors and slay the Horde. "I go with you; I must avenge my clan," said Benno.!Kiva said, "We should drive them into the river and let them freeze. They will sink under the weight of their gear and be unable to reach the riverbank." Benno added, "I will cross and attract their attention; while they are looking at me, push ahead." After a quick debate, the elders agreed that this plan might work. If nothing else, it would reduce the numbers of orcs that they would need to fight hand-to-hand. The villagers set off for the river.
They found the Horde milling along the riverbank, obviously intending to cross it but unable to agree on how. Benno slipped away and soon enough, they saw him on the opposite bank near the woods. So did the orcs. Howling, they turned to face him, stringing arrows and aiming their spears. Benno stayed just out of reach, taunting them.
"Now!" cried Kiva. She and the villagers burst out from their hiding place. The surprised orcs did not know which way to turn. Some fled into the river. Some turned toward the villagers. There was enough confusion that the villagers pressed the orcs back until they were all in the icy waters. They were too heavy-laden to reach the riverbanks and either froze or drowned.
This victory marked a turning point against the Horde. The villagers spread the word as quickly as they could, heartening the clans and giving them the hope to take back their own towns. Then the clans united to take back Halas. Kiva and Benno married then and through their union, the strength of the bear still flows in the veins of the Northmen.
Books
The Blood of the Bear, Part Two This item can be placed on the floor in any house type.
This completed book can be placed in your house and read.
This is the second part of a legend among the Northlanders concerning the Age of War. In Part One, Kiva met Benno, who was not of her village.
Though the Horde had not yet come to their village, Kiva's people were prepared. With the Growth season upon them, they knew that ways previously impassable were now easier to access. They had dug in defensive trenches lined with sharply spiked branches and stakes. They had watches every night, both for the bears that were awakening and for any sign that the Horde might be advancing their way.
Kiva was near the river gathering more wood when she again saw Benno. He stood at the edge of the melting ice, staring intently into the water. Before Kiva could call out a greeting, Benno reached into the water and with a quick swipe of his hand had knocked a fish onto the icy shore.
As he picked up the fish, Benno noticed Kiva watching him. "I have never seen anyone fish that way before," she said, coming closer. Benno laughed and bade her stand back from the icy edge. He braced himself on the riverbank and stared into the black waters. He stood still for so long, Kiva wondered whether he had frozen in place. Suddenly he bent forward, darting his hand at the water and flinging another fish to the shore.
"That is how we fish in my clan," Benno said, picking up the fish and putting it into a rough bag he had at his belt. Kiva laughed and said, "I have never seen that before; your clan must not be from around here." Benno glanced at her and said, "No. It is not." He turned to leave, then said hesitantly, "Are you curious to see where my clan is from?"
Kiva paused, considering, "Is it far? I am on watch and must be back before dark." Benno nodded, "You will be back before dark." And then without warning he scooped her into his arms and crossed the water. "Benno! The river ice is melting!" Kiva gasped, "The water bites with cold; are you mad?" He laughed and said, "This is nothing; I am of the North!"
Benno pushed through the snow-covered branches that hung low to the riverbank. Kiva had never walked on this side of the river before and she was fascinated. The trees grew tall and thick and were so closely set that no snow reached the ground. They came at last to an enormous tree, and at its roots, Benno pushed aside a leafy bush, revealing a hole into the ground.
Though Kiva had to stoop to enter (as did Benno, who was taller than the tallest Northman), she could stand upright once inside. The cavernous hole seemed to go on and on into the darkness. Benno lit candles and offered her honey mead. It was warming and delicious. He brought her dried berries.
"Where is the rest of your clan?" asked Kiva. A shadow passed over Benno's features. He said softly, "I am the last of my kind," then he said as though correcting himself, "Of my kin." Benno sat silently for a moment. "We lived in this place in the time of Growth, but at other times lived in other places. The Horde found us elsewhere. I alone escaped."
"I am sorry," Kiva said. "The Horde has not yet come here." "But they will," Benno said quietly. "They will never get what they seek. The time has come for them to be defeated. And when they are gone, I will join another clan. My strength will be theirs."
Looking around the empty cavern, Benno said, "Come! It is time for you to return to your people." He took Kiva's hand and stood for a moment, studying it closely; it was so small in his palm. Then he smiled at her and led the way through the bush into the woods.
Books
The Book of Baylzuthak This item can be placed on the floor in any house type.
...here within my throne I rule with mighty fist. All others bow down before my might be they goblin, minotaur or eye. My throne room shall be my sanctuary to protect me from the greater powers that no doubt plot to slay the rising subjugator of Norrath. It is the destiny of the goblins to rule under me and lay waste to...
[Illegible Text]
[Illegible Text]
...This book shall be bound with magic untold, magic taken from the recesses of the mind of the eternal one, Varsoon. Only a man deconstructed could ever be trusted, but for only a wink of time. His evil permeates the very air of his fortress. I do not wish...
[Illegible Text]
...I let the great eye live to be my slave. I let my minions believe what they wish and keep the truth to the dark. With my great power I control not only my minions, but the great eye itself. My power has even subjugated the eye infidel Zoryll. He cowers at my gaze. Who could stand against such power as mine? The fiends that invade the misty lands will soon learn this and soon...
[Illegible Text]
[Illegible Text]
...here in my throne room this journal shall stay. My throne is my vault. All my greatest treasures rest within my many mounds of precious gems. Very few gaze upon this site and only I can bath in the pools of grandeur. Let my arcane sentinel, the thing of shattered iron, stop all that dare enter uninvited. They...
[Illegible Text]
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Books
The Case of the Lost Lute This item can be placed on the floor in any house type.
This is a case file for the Ayonic Axe, a legendary artifact removed from the Plane of Music.
I have begun to develop a fascination with a magical lute called the Ayonic Lute. While passing through the Thundering Steppes I happened upon a curious bard by the name of Maestra Orlita. She was a ruling member of a minuscule quintet of bards that call themselves the Chaos Orchestra. Having piqued my interest in eccentric quintets, I decided to seek out the four remaining bards of this orchestra. What I found were two lyricists in Qeynos Harbor and two within East Freeport. Offering little save ancient songs, the lyricists went on to ignore me and force their out of tune melody upon the citizens of the great empires of man. If I were to find out anything more about the Chaos Orchestra, it would be in city records.
These words have yet to reveal themselves to you.
These words have yet to reveal themselves to you.
These words have yet to reveal themselves to you.
I found the "belly of a giggling fish."To be more precise, I found the theater of the Laughing Trout, a tavern in Rivervale. I found a peculiar xylophone made from bones, the hagralaphone. This curios musical device emanated with arcane power. I disovered that the hagralaphone was made by woodworkers from Bogbottom Mills. Tracking down the halfling shop was an easy enough task, but it was overrun with goblins. I did find the descendant and current owner of Bogbottom Mills, Camfred. He told me that his ancestors created the hagralaphone out of the bones of an evil troll witch named Hagralazoo. They did this by order of the legendary bard, Vhalen.
I journeyed to Antonica to find the Bell Tower of Vhalen. It is there that Vhalen fell to a great horde of undead. It is in the ancient tower that I spoke to the vision of Vhalen, a projection of the bard that now is bound to Ethernere. He said that Hagralazoo, the troll witch and arch nemesis of Rivervale, had taken the cursed Ayonic Axe from the Chaos Orchestra as they fled Katta Grove. She tricked them into destroying themselv. in a final concert. She then used the axe and its bardic powers to begin a series of secret concerts in which she would collect the valuables from the deceased audience and the unwitting bard whom she tricked into wielding the melodic axe.
The vision of Vhalen said, Hagralazoo lost the axe to an unwitting accomplice, Kelkarn. She had hoped the bard could assist her in completing an arcane composition that she had stolen from the mysterious sage, the Drafling. The composition could remove the curse from the axe, allowing the witch to use it. However, the composition was incomplete. Kelkarn was a well known bard and the troll witch came to him on a misty road during his many travels. In the guise of an old crone, Hagralazoo persuaded the bard to display his talents. She then gave him the Drafling composition and asked him to complete it. If he did, the Ayonic Axe could be his- a lie!
Kelkarn studied the chaotic composition of the Drafling for many years. The music would drove him insane and caused him to commit crimes against many kingdoms. Eventually, he was locked in the Freeport Infirmary and Insane Asylum. His madness was so bizarre that an autopsy was ordered by the chief surgeon. The night before he would be cut up and studied, Hagralazoo came to him in his cell. Kelkarn told her that he completed the composition. He showed etched it in his own blood. She took the composition and let Kelkarn play a final tune, a tune that would see the deconstruction of his body and allow the troll witch to reappear after he had died to retake the axe.
Hagralazoo never made it back in time to recover the Ayonic Axe thanks to the Drafling. When she did, she found the axe was removed. It vanished via the black market auctions of Freeport. Vhalen was able to find the Ayonic Axe and hide it. As luck would have it, the Drafling was an associate of his! Vhalen requested the remains of Hagralazoo be used to create the Hagralaphone. The unique xylophone could summon the troll witch back. that she could reveal the composition that Kelkarn completed. Many years living in the land between life and death may persuade the troll witch to reveal the location to Vhalen or another bard such as myself.
Books
The Codex of the Khati Sha This item can be placed on the floor in any house type.
This is a copy of the original Codex, which details a bit of the history of the beastlords.
Long in the distant past, civil war erupted between the erudites of Erudin. The conflict was swift and savage, and the erudites unleashed terrible magics against one another, often with devestating results. The peaceful kerrans, native to the continent of Odus, were caught up in the brutal conflict, in spite of their efforts to stay out of the line of fire. The greatest loss, however, came when the armies of Paineel unleashed a powerful spell designed to completely wipe their enemies from Norrath. As a test, the erudites targeted a large kerran village on the southern end of Toxxulia Forest. In one terrifying flash, the village completely vanished (along with the mountain on which it once rested), and the Hole was formed.
The spell was based on teleportation magic, and rather than destroying the village and its inhabitants, it actually sent the entire mountainside through the Combine network, and onto the moon of Luclin. The survivors of the spell were shocked at their new surroundings, but since they were unable to reverse their situation, they soon began to rebuild on their new home.
Khati Sha, a general and advisor to the tribe elder, Kejaan Kerrath, was also one of the first explorers on the moon of Luclin. Among his discoveries were the Acrylia Mines, which gave the Vah Shir the material they would use to build their new city, and the glade of spiritual animals, which led to the rediscovery of the beastlord path. The house of beastlords became known as Khati Sha after the one who discovered them.
When adventurers came to Luclin, they met with Khati Sha, and began to learn the secrets of spiritual bonding. Thus, the teaching of the beastlords reached out beyond hte city of Shar Vhal, and back to the denizens of Norrath. Beastlords had again returned to Norrath.
Prior to the age of Cataclysms, the gods departed Norrath. Those attuned to the spiritual world began to feel the mighty spiritual guides who once spoke to them also began to retreat, although unlike the divine gods, the spiritual retreat was far more gradual. Rituals to bond spirit animals to their beastlords began to fail, and the spirits did not respond when questioned why. As a group, beastlords were becoming extinct on Norrath.
The Truespirit, who were responsible for the spirit guides, had sensed impending cataclysms and chose to retreat. Since the spirit guides themselves were tied to the essence of mortals, the disasters could threaten to destroy the Truespirit as well. Thus, they elected to retreat back to the spirit world, and await the time when they could emerge again.
The Great Wolf – Kaldrahir, the Pack Leader
Kaldrahir represents the aspect of leadership. He teaches guiding those in a common goal, of using your own courage to help others overcome their fears and follow to places they might not otherwise go. He is fair in his decisions, but is often utterly convincing of his position once he has made up his mind. It is through him that the mortals learn to lead their bonded spirits into the most perilous and darkest of places.
The Great Chokidai – Ralissk, the Keeper of Wisdom
Ralissk is the embodiment of wisdom, which draws on ages of knowledge and experience. Ralissk is the eldest of the Harbingers, and acts as an advisor to others when necessary. His wisdom can be used to serve others, or to protect one’s self in cases where it might be necessary. It is his wisdom hat teaches the beastlords how to sharpen their minds and senses to overcome the challenges they will face in their journeys.
The Great Bear – Elnakii, of Body and Mind
The personification of might, Elnakii’s strength comes from his connection of his body and mind, making them as one. Unifying these with each other gives him unbreakable will, pushes the limits of his strength, and gives him fortitude unmatched by any of the other great spirits. This important technique is taught to the beastlords, helping them to maximize their potential, and become something beyond what they might otherwise find themselves capable of.
The Great Crocodile – U’lla, the Strong Hearted
Known for her unflinching courage, U’lla’s strength lies in her conviction and bravery. She will stand fast in the face of overwhelming odds, staring down her enemies without fear, and in fact has broken down opponents with the strength of her will alone. She does not back down, and will always see things to the end – even mercilessly so. It is courage that she teaches to the beastlords, showing them not only the strength of body to stand up when others have fled, but also the courage of heart to make impossibly hard decisions and live with the choices made.
The Great Tiger – Marisha Kur, the Den Mother
The Den Mother is known for making sure that those under her care are looked after and protected. She is also a teacher, guiding others in their journeys and helping them learn the lessons they will need to survive. Along with this nurturing nature is an unmatched ferocity, as she protects that which she deems as her territory or domain. She teaches this devotion to the beastlords, so that they might give of themselves to protect that which is important to them – be it a cause, a loved one, or a profession.
* this page is covered in strange writing, and is unreadable *
Books
The Coming of the True Creator This item can be placed on the floor in any house type.
This is a mastery tome. Use the knowledge contained within to gain a basic understanding of the tactics to use against the chosen foe.
"The Coming of the True Creator" Anonymous Yha-lei priest, held by residents of Timorous Deep.
When the great change came, we didn't know what to do. We Yha-lei have always shown our devotion to out great god Prexus, and thought that our methods were true. We respected his dominion, were ever obedient, and exalted him with all of our words. We did all this in the name of our god. But then one day, Prexus left us.
Without Prexus' guidance, we began to fall apart. The waters themselves seemed to become rougher, the waves battering and abusing us and carrying away our city piece by piece. Yha-lei began to slaughter Yha-lei senselessly. Our blood darkened the waters of our city, and our hope began to wear thin. Then our new god came.
It is said to have been a dark day when our ancestors discovered the new god. But once they had come across his resting place, the water grew clearer and bright. Light filtered deeper down into the depths and illuminated the passage of those first chosen few. In those hints of light, its dark scales flashed, its thrumming heartbeat gave a pulse to the very sea, and its coils enveloped those first pilgrims.
Though our first meeting was one of misunderstanding, we came to realize it was because we had offended the god. None were to disturb its sanctity, and if we were to help maintain its privacy, we would be rewarded with its blessings. Our god came to be known by many names: Chatachonoth, the Deep One, the Life Coil. And so it was that the age of the True Creator began.
Our people built a great temple to the True Creator, and we worshiped him as we would. Keeping the god's chamber free of intruders was relatively simple at first. Only the occasional curious creature swam up to inspect, and they fell easily under our blades. But then, the seas shook violently for days on end and great stones rained down upon us, fracturing the very seascape. When it was through, all had changed.
We at first thought our new god had abandoned us, and we despaired, but finally, when everything settled, we found that our god was true. Squinting in the new brightness, we inspected our realm, which had grown dangerously close to the surface world, and found that our god had not left us. In fact, he was more awake and alert than ever, needing even more of our care and devotion. But then, the land dwellers came.
It was at first in small numbers, and then in many scores as our presence was know. We did our best to fight them and defend the Deep One as best we could. Many Yha=lei have given their lives defending his sanctity, and may times more would be proud to do the same. But for as many as we killed, more came. And so we accepted our new role as warrior protectors. None would disturb our god so long as we stood.
And here is where we stand. The True Creator guides us, sustains us, centers us, and in turn, we protect him from the forces above that would threaten him. We have realized the importance of a first strike, and now raid the surface dwellers' territory the way they do ours, taking members of their races to serve us and warn away others.
With the True Creator on our side, we are truly powerful, and will prove this might to any who would stand in our way. Our battle cries unite us. "For the Deep One!" "Protect the True Creator!" And out voices will not fail.
Editor's Note The day after we recorded the Yha-lei priest's ramblings, he was found dead by his own hand. His guards heard him screaming for mercy and forgiveness, beseeching his dark god. But it seems that regardless of whether or not his god forgave him, he wouldn't forgive himself for telling us its secrets.
Books
The Commander's Wife This item can be placed on the floor in any house type.
This completed book can be placed in your house and read.
This autobiography sketches the life of Araminda Bayle, the wife of Kane Bayle, the Commander of the Qeynos' City Guard who was executed for his treasonous association with the Bloodsabers during the War of Plagues.
Days pass, stretching before me like an abyss. That it should come to this: my husband Kane, the Commander of the Qeynos City Guard regiment, is sentenced to death. I look back, now on the eve of his execution, and wonder whether I could have saved him. I know his mother feels the same. She is old now and frail; the look in her eyes haunts me. Yet, I look into the mirror and see the same expression. Sorrow, guilt and remorse.
Our marriage was as happy as might be expected. Our parents linked our names from my birth and Kane, a lad of thirteen at the time, took the news of our betrothal poorly. I do not blame him; he was young and vigorous while I was still toddling around my mother's knee. Still, in time he grew to love me in his own fashion. Our wedding was truly the happiest day of my life. We wed on my twentieth birthday.
Our great sorrow occurred within a year of our wedding. I gave birth to Kane's first son, but within hours the babe sickened and died. For many days I lay abed, unable to speak or care for myself. Kane's sorrow was surely as great as mine. We cried together over our son's death. But then, with me so ill, it seemed prudent for Kane to take up rooms elsewhere in our home. He did not move back into my room, even after I recovered.
Kane's military career progressed quickly, and not only because he was a member of the Bayle family. He distinguished himself in arranging the City Guard into smaller subunits that could respond to danger more quickly than they had been able to in the old days. We entertained the other officers in the evenings and during the day, I did charity work with the other wives.
It was during one of my scheduled visits to the infirmary that I first heard rumors of my husband's infidelities. The other wives were afraid to speak of it for fear of retaliation, but my special friend Greda pulled me aside and told me that everyone knew how things stood between he and I. "How does anyone know where a man stands with his wife but his wife alone?" I replied. I stayed until the end of my shift; I am not one to shirk my public duties.
Now that the trial is over, I know how many women claimed that my husband was unfaithful to me. My husband was...is not a perfect man, but he is respectful of my position. My father is Lord Mrallon, who has long been a friend to the Bayle family. Kane could not disgrace my family as well as his by sinking to the levels some of these women claim. They lie, though it appears their lies are more persuasive than mine.
Do we not all lie to ourselves at some point? How many nights had I sat beside this window wishing Kane would come to me, and instead seeing him slip down the street in the dark? I told myself then it was an emergency, the Guard needed him. And so, of all the truths and lies told about my husband, what do I want to believe now? That he was seeing other women or that he was using his strategic skills to aid our enemies?
The questions twist in my mind like knives. When I think of my husband, I see the young man on our wedding day, handsome and proud. I see him trying to comfort me after the death of our only child. I see him in his dress uniform, smiling at me as we dance at the head of a regimental function. Who is the Kane Bayle that tonight breathes the last breaths of this life? Where has my husband gone?
This at least the gods grant me: we have no children. I could not bear to leave a helpless being without his parents. It will be no easier to leave one's parents behind; I see my parents' faces as they were through the trial, struggling between sympathy for me and hatred for my husband. I see his parents' faces: his father, stoic and his mother unable to tear her eyes from Kane's face. How her cries torment me; she is crying yet and no one can comfort her. No one can comfort me.
The sun rises. I see the shining city of Qeynos below. The sparrows fly from their nest beneath my window sill. The war has brought death and uncertainty to many lives but oh, so much more to mine. I cannot bear knowing what they think of Kane. This day, they execute my husband but through their words, they have already condemned and executed me. May my parents forgive me. May my flight prove swiftly fatal.
Books
The Contentment This item can be placed on the floor in any house type.
A competent bookbinder is a valuable resource who can restore any book that's had pages removed.
This book is a creation myth as told by the Valkyrie.
When the world was still young, all things were clean. The elements worked in harmony and the Urges of Heaven were calm.
This was the time known as the Contentment. All things were good and all things were at peace. This would soon change with the coming of the mortals.
As life would begin, the Contentment would end.
As the Urges of Heaven would lay their seeds in the earth, they would blossom into beings great and small.
Running out of room to grow, these children of the Urges would eventually struggle against each other for dominance.
Seeing this, the Urge of Ice bore her children and hid them deep away within her own home, one of never-ending Ice.
The children of Ice would be named Valkyries, and old word in their Mother Urge's hidden tongue. Free from the predations of the other children, the Valkyries were free to create a society unhampered by warfare. As their numbers multiplied, they would eventually create a mighty kingdom that prospered in peace.
Building huge spires that floated in the sky, the Valkyries would exist in pure harmony.
The Urge of Ice would smile upon them, for she had created the only children that amongst all the Urges that would see this bliss.
Choosing one of these women as her emissary, she would leave them to their eternal rapture as the Urge attended to other matters.
Their ruler, Frikka, was the most beautiful of all the Valkyries. Her wings were as black as a calm dream and her crimson hair was as vibrant as her heart.
Soaring among her sisters and daughters and mothers, all the Valkyries admired her for what she was - a symbol of complete perfection.
Frikka would take the Mother Urge's blessing and spread it out to her people.
Promoting the arts, ballads and paintings and sculptures would be made to honor the concept of perfection and harmony. This would continue for many ages and the Valkyries would enjoy a life free of pain and hurt.
Just as the Contentment would end, so would the perfect world of the Valkyries.
As Frikka sat upon her throne, she would think of things that she could give to her people to make them even happier.
As she would delve deeper into contemplation she began to think of things she had never thought of before. One of these things was the nature of Happiness itself. She knew what being happy was, but she did not understand what it was NOT.
So she continued to think on this.
Telling her people that she was contemplating a new gift that the Valkyries were to be given, Frikka shut herself away for a long time.
Locked away in a room by herself, she thought not just about Happiness, but of Peace and Harmony.
If she was to make these concepts even greater, she must understand where they came from.
After a great deal of time had passed, she gained understanding of what it was to be happy.
She understood the nature of peace. She knew how harmony came into being. And with this understanding, she now knew how to increase this among her people.
Frikka stood upon her balcony and gazed down at her people as they gently floated through the sky. Unfurling her exquisite black wings, she flew out to join them.
Frikka was the greatest Queen of the Valkyries, for not only did she create the greatest age of the Valkyries, she would also be the one to tear it apart.
For in her contemplation on the nature of Happiness, Peace, and Harmony she found what the Mother Urge had hidden from her children - Despair, War, and Strife.
Books
The Dying This item can be placed on the floor in any house type.
A competent bookbinder is a valuable resource who can restore any book that's had pages removed.
This book is a creation myth as told by the Valkyrie.
When the world would enter its twilight years, the memories of youth would become bittersweet. The elements would clash against each other and the Urges would withdraw. This time was known as the Dying. Things were only good or bad, there was no in between. And the world would be introduced to people they had never seen before.
The Mother Urge had watched what had happened to her children during her absence. The "gifts" that the queen of the Valkyries, Frikka, had given to her beautiful children had destroyed them.
In a scream of both anguish and anger, a wave of force washed over everyone of the Valkyries.
As the divine force spread into the bodies of the Valkyries, they felt gut-wrenching pain course through their bodies.
All around them, they felt something they had never felt before - Disappointment. Then they felt another feeling - Horror.
For one by one, the Valkyries began to watch as they changed.
Their hair was the first to change.
The Valkyries watched as their color from their black hair began to drain, dripping down their backs. When the draining was done, it had no color.
The worst was to come next. After their hair drained, they stood in shock as their wings would do the same. When the draining was complete, they would be as full of color as the ice they lived within.
Not understanding what was happening, they looked around at each other.
Ceasing their warfare for a moment, they spied something from way up high. Above them, there was a small black speck that was becoming larger and larger.
As it got closer, they realized it for what it was - their queen, Frikka.
Plummeting to the ground, Frikka still possessed the beautiful color of the Valkyries. But another color, red, covered her entire body.
As they watched, she made no attempt to stop her descent. Finally, after what would seem an eternity, Frikka would hit the ground with an impact that left enormous crater many miles below.
And for the first time ever, the Valkyries learned another concept - Death.
The houses and temples that floated in the air were soon to follow their queen.
One by one, the structures plummeted to the ground below, leaving only the Valkyries that hovered in the air. And soon, they too would be moved.
The Mother Urge showed her face to her children, and in one fell swoop exiled them from her home forever.
Foreigners in a new land, the Valkyries would quickly come to terms with their newfound mortality.
Losing many of their numbers to the creatures that already existed upon this world, they would eventually build a new home.
Having been exiled from their original home, the Valkyries would need to learn to survive in this brave new land.
Encountering beasts with great horns was only the first of many obstacles the Valkyries would have to overcome.
Creatures very much like themselves, yet with no wings, would harass them from time to time.
Gathering together, they would divert their War from among themselves and direct it toward these enemies.
To this day, these proud people remain within the icy reaches of the cold northlands. Keeping to themselves, not much is known about them.
What is known, though, is that they claim to want three things - they want an end to war, and an end to strife, and an end to their eternal despair.
Books
The Efreeti's Scimitar This item can be placed on the floor in any house type.
This is a mastery tome. Use the knowledge contained within to gain a basic understanding of the tactics to use against the chosen foe.
"The Efreeti's Scimitar," by Serina Melosine, bard of Qeynos. This is a tale of an efreeti who understood that myth and legend could confuse his enemy.
Not much is known about the efreeti. They are a subject of many myths and legends, yet it is difficult to know what is true and what is false.
The chase had gone on for many days and the efreeti's wounds had weakened him. He was cornered like a trapped animal now, the city's walls forming a wide "V" behind him and his attacker closed in before him.
"Think, Khashig, think," he said to himself and when the answer filled Khashig's mind, he relaxed completely and smiled.
"You meet your death with a smile; good," said Valmeer, the one who hunted him. "I have pursued you for many days. Know that I will honor your memory by telling everyone how you died: like a coward. But at least, a happy coward."
"You see my smile and think I die happy at your hand?" scoffed Khashig. "My smile is my own. I know what you will lose. It is of no consequence now, though."
Khashig shrugged elaborately, grazing his shoulder against the coarse stone walls behind him.
Valmeer's eyes narrowed as he continued his advance. "What are you talking about? Do not seek to delay the inevitable with your chatter," Valmeer said.
And yet, he paused, his sword still pointed at Khashig's chest.
Inwardly, Khashig knew he had won the moment and pressed his advantage. He closed his eyes, saying quietly, "I delay nothing. Go ahead."
"Speak, gnoll!" Valmeer ordered through gritted teeth, pressing the tip of his weapon against his adversary's chest.
"But I am not a gnoll," relied Khashig softly. "You know what I am and what I can offer you. Still, I blame you not. It is you who delay now, enemy of mine."
Valmeer's eyes darted over his enemy, who stood almost serenely with his back against the walls. He assessed the efreeti's visible possessions and then realized what was missing. He cried angrily, "Where is it? Where is your scimitar?"
Khashig laughed, his eyes still closed.
Spreading apart his hands to show their emptiness, he replied, "You will not find it on my corpse, enemy. And if you slay me now, you will not find it ever. A pity. The scimitar is quite valuable. It can do many things, besides the obvious."
The efreeti continued, pushing aside the tip of Valmeer's blade scornfully as he did so, "Many seek the scimitar of an efreeti.
"It is said that it burns that which it touches, melting the hardiest armor like a candle.
"It is said that the owner of an efreeti's scimitar can travel great distances by merely whispering to the weapon. Alas, you shall never find one."
"Where have you hidden your blade, gnoll!" Valmeer shouted. He leaned forward and grabbed the efreeti's arm.
Khashig flinched slightly, for his enemy's grasp was stronger than he anticipated.
Valmeer hissed urgently, "I will spare your miserable life if you simply give the blade to me."
Khashig nodded, opening his eyes to meet Valmeer's gaze at last. He whistled sharply and his enemy's grip loosened.
Valmeer stared at the scimitar blade penetrating his armor, slicing through his chest.
"Here it is," Khashig said, "It is said that an efreeti's scimitar is deadly. Farewell, enemy."
How did Khashig summon his scimitar with a mere whistle?
Who can say? Like his scimitar, an efreeti is an elusive creature that perhaps can only be understood through closer assessment.
Books
The Eye of the Night This item can be placed on the floor in any house type.
This is a mastery tome. Use the knowledge contained within to gain a basic understanding of the tactics to use against the chosen foe.
In the long ago, they worshipped the Eyes. Two Eyes were placed into the sky so that the cyclops' would not have but one eye.
Instead, they could use the Eye of the Night and the Eye of the Day. The Eye of the Day, however, was cruel and would sometimes take the power of anyone who stared at it disrespectfully or for too long.
Therefore, the Eye of the Night was held in higher esteem.
There were the Seafuries and they lived on the lands of the Ocean of Tears, worshipping the Eye of the Day. Beneath its gaze, they harvested the bounty of the seas and fought off predators that landed on their shores.
Some lived in the secret places of Ro, where they hid from the Eye of the Day, calling themselves the Sandfury. They worshipped the Eye of Night, who benevolently provided them with water, food and shelter.The Eye of the Day knew that they did not worship it and became harsh and bitter. It set out to destroy its rival.
The visionaries were concerned, for there were strange portents in the bones. By throwing fish bones onto the sand at high tide, the Seafuries would read the future.
The bones lay twisted and unreadable. Perplexed, they made offerings to the Eye of the Day, but the meanings shown by the bones were still clouded.
The Eye of the Day shrouded itself and hid from them.
In the desert lands, the Sandfuries did not use bones for divination. Bones were strewn about, remains of those who failed to fear the Eye of the Day; they meant nothing more than the swirling sands.
Instead, they looked to the Eye of the Night and chanted as they stared upward. One eye meeting the Eye and looking for answers to questions they did not have words to ask it.
"The Eye is in pain," said one Seafury visionary in concern. "We must prepare to send it more offerings. The little ones with sticks and stones will do."
And so the Seafuries prepared to take offerings rather than wait for the offerings to come to them on their vessels of wood and cloth and iron.
They kept the offerings penned on the beach beneath the shrouded skies.
The jealous eye of the Day sent long tendrils towards the Eye of the Night, hidden from the view of its worshippers.
It coiled the golden wisps around the Eye of the Night and began to squeeze, until the Eye of the Night, always the gentler of the two, cried and divided into two parts.
Then, the Eye of the Day released it from its grasp and coiled its tendrils around itself again, satisfied.
Far below, the Seafuries did not see a change. The portents were still confused and chaotic.
Even after the sacrifices were made, they were unsure how to appease the Eye of the Day. Danger, falling, pain.
Perhaps they had not sacrificed correctly. Perhaps the Eye of the Day hungered for the bodies of the disbelievers.
And so ships were prepared to transport the Seafuries from their island home. They would take and sacrifice those who worshipped the Eye of the Night.
Once only those who worshipped the Eye of the Day were left, then it would be appeased. The fish bones would be able to tell the future with accuracy and the Seafuries could return to their way of life.
Though the Sandfuries did not know their danger, they sensed a change in the Eye of the Night and watched it fearfully in the darkness.
Some sickness gnawed at it both from within and without. The Sandfuries did not make offering to the Eye. Instead, they told stories about her (for to them, she was as mother, goddess and lifemate) and chanted softly so that she would know they still believed.
In the day, the first stones fell. Though they could not see the Eye of the Night, the visionaries realized their mistake. Though they lived near the sea, they were not as skilled in managing ships as others.
They dodged what they could, but the rain of stones continued, sometimes burning only a hole through a ship, while at other times tearing it asunder.
The Eye of Day ignored their cries.
In the desert, the Sandfuries watched chunks of the Eye shining through the night skies.
"Oh, mother and maiden! We are your true children!" they cried, begging for her forgiveness. To show that she would always be their Eye, she caused a stone of magical power and beauty to land amongst the Sandfuries, leaving them unharmed.
And that is how the Seer Stone came to Ro.
Books
The First Battle This item can be placed on the floor in any house type.
A competent bookbinder is a valuable resource who can restore any book that's had pages removed.
This book is a creation myth as told by the Minotaurs
When it began, there was but Earth and Sky. Nothing else existed, for nothing had to.
They were not friends, nor were they enemies. And this is the way it would be countless ages, for there was no such thing as time.
But all things must come to an end, as did the wholeness of Earth and Sky.
Sky was loud and Earth was quiet.
Sky was quick to anger and would scream when upset, which would happen much of the time. Earth was slow to anger, but when provoked would rumble louder and groan with its displeasure. Not understanding Sky, Earth took a piece of its partner and created companions that had some of its own qualities.
And thus, the Kings were made.
Seeing the companions Earth had made, Sky took a piece of its partner and made a companion of its own.
Placing a piece of itself into the piece of Earth, it floated in the space that was Sky. And since Sky only did this out of jealousy, Sky told its new companion that it should be seen by all of the Kings and Earth to let them know that Sky's companion was better.
And this, the Sun was made.
Soon enough, both Earth and the Kings would see the greatness of the Sky Sun.
Earth wanted the Sky Sun as a companion as well and asked the Kings to spread their great wings and fly upwards to snatch it from Sky. Sky, remaining ever jealous, told Sky Sun to go away whenever the Kings flew too close.
Thus, Night and Day were made.
Sky, being insecure, was lonely whenever the Sky Sun would leave her alone.
So Sky, in her jealousy, reached down again and took another piece from Earth and made two more companions.
Having taken a large piece, Sky cut it in half and made two companions. Though not as bright as the Sky Sun, both of these new companions would entertain Sky when the Sky Sun was away.
And thus, the Two Moons were made.
Earth watched as Sky created more companions and after much consideration, chose to make more companions than Sky ever could.
He reached up and grabbed many pieces of Sky and made companion after companion after companion. Soon enough, there were more companions than could be counted.
And thus, Life was created.
Sky soon noticed that it only had three companions and Earth had many.
Barely able to contain its anger Sky screamed like a bawling child. The screaming continued for so much time that when it finally calmed, Sky looked down and saw that it had scattered Life to many different corners of Earth.
And thus, the Races were made.
Feeling anger for what Sky had done to Life, Earth had erupted into anger.
Lashing out personally at Sky, it hurled itself up towards its partner. Fiery violence flew high towards Sky, cutting her and scraping her. Every blow landed against Sky would create a small little hole to mark the damage, and all of the fists would fall back to Earth.
And thus, the Stars and the Mountains were made.
From every cut that punctured its body, Sky would bleed. And since there were hundreds of punches, there was much blood.
Sky would bleed and bleed, not stopping for many ages. Covering Earth in its blood, it would take many ages before Sky would staunch the flow, though never healing the wounds.
And thus, the Oceans were made.
This would be known as the First Battle. It would mark the beginning of the endless battle between Earth and Sky.
The fight would last for many eternities, for both sides were no longer partners but now enemies.
This would continue until the Last Battle would come one day.
Books
The First Wife's Tale This item can be placed on the floor in any house type.
This is a mastery tome. Use the knowledge contained within to gain a basic understanding of the tactics to use against the chosen foe.
Passion runs high in the desert. This is a tale of love and deceit. And passion.
When the djinn arrived, some of them sought wives amongst the local Dervin tribes of the desert. The Dervin women were beautiful, proud and strong.
The djinn brought many of them to live in the Shimmering Citadel. From amongst these, the Djinn Master chose his first bride: Samirah.
Her hair was dark but beneath the light of the sun, it looked blood-red.
Samirah was no different from the other Dervin women, though in time the elevation in her position wrought changes to her personality.
She sharpened her tongue on those who were of a lower rank than herself -- and as the Djinn Master's First Wife, she outranked them all.
Servants jumped to do her bidding. Whatever she wished was procured for her. Her rooms in the Palace were more extravagant even than the Master's.
While some of the Dervin women missed the freedom they had in the desert, Samirah reveled in the beauty of her surroundings.
She feasted her eyes on the bright colors with which the Palace was decorated. After living amongst the drabness of the desert, the Palace took her breath away.
The Master was kind to her. He told her tales of the distant Planes. He wrote poetry for her. And yet, sometimes Samirah felt that she held everything in her hands but his heart.
In her own way, Samirah loved the Master. If anything displeased him, she arranged for it to be removed. Some nights she would prepare lavish feasts for him and waited until it was clear he would not come to her.
He had given her access to everything in the Palace. From the menageries, to the poets, to the gardens, Samirah was free to roam in places denied to the other wives.
In this way, she came upon another woman in one of the secret places of the Master's home. Samirah became enraged.
Who was she, this rival now seated so serenely in the hidden garden, reading a book?
And yet, it would not do to show her true feelings until she learned more about this woman.
"Greetings," Samirah said, striding forward with an engaging smile. "I am Samirah. We have not met before, have we? I do not know you."
The newcomer was frightened and tried to flee, which pleased Samirah's jealous nature.
"Do not be afraid; we can be friends," Samirah said.
She sat beside the reflecting pool and patted the ground beside her -- ground slightly lower than that upon which she herself sat, of course.
The newcomer hesitated then came and sat as well.
She was young and uncertain, mumbling her words such that Samirah did not catch her full name.
"What brings you to the Master's hidden garden?" Samirah finally asked.
"I am to be First Wife," the newcomer responded shyly, "though I am not sure what that will entail."
Samirah froze for a moment, then said smoothly, "Let me tell you."
"He is replacing me with this, a callow female who cannot even speak clearly," Samirah thought angrily.
Aloud, Samirah said, "The Master will seem kind to you...at first. Then he will torture you where no one will hear your cries for mercy. And even if someone did hear, they would not come to save you."
"That cannot be," said the newcomer, recoiling in horror.
"There are many forms of torture," Samirah said softly, and realized as she said so that it was true. Enduring love given without being loved in return was her torture.
Sensing movement at her side, Samirah turned quickly to find herself staring into the eyes of a sphinx.
She reached for her dirk, but the newcomer said quickly, "He means no harm; the Master gave him to me as a pet."
Samirah felt her world closing in, as though she were being shut into sarcophagus. He had never given her a pet.
Samirah could find no refuge in the Palace. The servants answered the newcomer's summons before they came belatedly to her.
The Master moved Samirah to other, even more opulent rooms and installed the newcomer in her place.
"In my place," Samirah said to her mirror bitterly. "I loved him and he cast me aside. For her."
The beauty of her new rooms brought her no joy, for Samirah realized that he did not love her any more than he loved the lowliest creature in the menagerie.
On the day of is wedding to the newcomer, the Master gathered his other wives and said, "I have no need for any of you now."
When Samirah begged him to reconsider, the Master raised a hand and uttered an incantation. "But I love you!" she cried.
"You do not know what that means," said the Master scornfully, banishing them forever.
He changed Samirah and the other wives into the naga, who both love and hate the djinn to this day.
Books
The Freeport Citizen's Guide to Opportunity - 2nd Edition This item can be placed on the floor in any house type.
My citizenship is not affected if I discard this book without accepting the tasks. If I work on these tasks, I must keep this book until I finish them all. Once I complete the tasks, I will gain additional experience and a copy of this book for my home.
NO-TRADE
Offers the Quest 'The Freeport Citizen's Guide to Opportunity - 2nd Edition'
The Freeport Citizen's Guide to Opportunity - 2nd Edition
Now that you are a citizen of Freeport, you will want to do your part to bring glory to the Overlord. There are many ways to gain prestige and earn coin. As you grow and learn, your efforts will reflect on our city. Journey through Norrath and know that your efforts will inspire our foes to reconsider their allegiance. Might is not only demonstrated by the sword, but by knowing what can be used to our benefit. Your citizenship is not affected if you discard this book without accepting the tasks. If you work on these tasks, you should keep this book until you finish them all.
On your journeys you may encounter items which are part of a larger series. You can collect these items as you travel, inspecting them to determine whether they are worthy of retention.
You will find this hobby quite rewarding as you learn to identify different animals and their parts.
Once you have completed a collection, you should present them to Renny Parvat in East Freeport. He will offer rewards for your completed collections.
And should you complete an entire series of collectable items, you may receive something special for your home as well.
Go, then, and investigate the wilds to find the rewards beneath your feet.
Freeport's history is filled with the greatest explorers of all times.
Now that you belong to the Overlord, your finds will add to his glory throughout Norrath. You may have already identified key features throughout the city, such as the Fountain of the Fallen Soldier in the Scale Yard.
You are strongly urged to take this moment to look upon the Execution Plaza in West Freeport. Go, now.
As you explore lands new to you, remember that you represent Freeport and the Overlord.
He will not be well-served if you are unable to put the glory of our city before your own insignificant life. Therefore, go without fear through the lands.
Should you see something interesting, investigate it more closely that you may learn more about it for your sake.
The Overlord is proud of the high literacy rate among Freeport's citizens and he strongly encourages those who do not read to learn immediately.
To this end, he has graciously allowed Sage Navarius Orvalis to set up shop in North Freeport, even though many of the tomes he sells are incomplete.
Despite their lack of pages, Sage Orvalis's tomes are fascinating.
By purchasing a tome such as "Bird Watching: The Do's and Don'ts of Nektulos Forest," you will explore Norrath and gain new insight into its creatures, history and the folk who inhabit our world.
You can also gain new skills by completing any of the Mastery tomes available. Indeed, you are very strongly urged by the Overlord to take advantage of the Sage's stock and to also read any tomes you find while in the wilds.
An active mind is an active soldier for Freeport. While you are going about your work for the glory of the Overlord, you must always carefully observe your surroundings.
Is anything out of place? Is there an unusual object jutting up through the ground?
Investigate these things, for they may provide clues to activities with which you will want to concern yourself.
Many unusual items you will find in your travels hold the keys to mysteries in which the Overlord is interested.
It would behoove you to find these items and complete any task necessary to determine their exact nature.
This way, if the Overlord should summon you into his Presence Chamber, you will be able to explain exactly what you know and how you came to learn these things.
One of the hallmarks of a citizen of Freeport is his willingness to take on tasks to further the reputation of the Overlord.
Freeport has long been a center of commerce throughout Norrath. Look to assist the Far Seas Trading Company's taskmasters where you find them.
Strengthening our ties to commerce strengthens our economy as a whole.
Throughout Norrath's history, there are certain items which seem to offer their owners greater protections or abilities.
The Overlord is interested in these items and therefore, so must you be. Use your keen observation skills to identify those items, such as the greater lightstones.
Learn how to obtain these things and you will please the Overlord.
The Overlord requires that all citizens be of some use to the city by advancing their training in their current adventuring profession. We will not have deadbeats and mendicants within the walls of Freeport.
Get familiar with organizations that have a local presence. The Seafury Buccaneers are in South Freeport. You will find both high-ranking representatives of the Freeport Militia and the Coalition of Tradesfolke in West Freeport. The Dismal Rage can be found in North Freeport.
This book is only a guide to what you will be expected to look for and achieve on the Overlord's behalf.
Do not waste your time by lazing about.
The Age of Destiny is upon us and only those who act quickly will reap the benefits that the world offers.
Books
The Great Flood of Blackburrow This item can be placed on the floor in any house type.
This completed book can be placed in your house and read.
"The Great Flood," a personal observation by a nameless traveler. The pages were apparently compiled based on his (or her) journal.
The route through the Blackburrow of the gnolls from Everfrost is dark, twisting and deep. I have quite often gotten lost as I do not use any source of light. That would reveal my presence to the cursed gnolls. My business is my own, taking me through these dark passages every fortnight.
My home is Halas of the North. My business takes me to Qeynos Hills and for that reason alone, I must suffer the trek through the stench of the gnoll pits. Sometimes I will send ahead my pet wolf Silkie to find sport in the darkness. She enjoys the exercise, for the gnolls cannot outrun her. I can follow their cries and need not use any of the dark methods I have learned to see in the dark.
On this journey, Silkie and I found the snows melting by day and freezing at night. Daggers of ice hung from the rocky outcroppings, sometimes breaking off and shattering on the ground below with a loud crack. Her tail between her legs, her ears darting back and forth, Silkie panted and paced, uneasy. Her troubled behavior made me uneasy as well.
At the entrance to the tunnels, we found the gnoll guards had abandoned their posts, leaving behind nothing but the cold embers of their watch fires. There used to be snow at this level, but there was not. The ground was moist with melting snow. Silkie refused to enter the tunnel until I threatened her. Then she scuttled ahead sideways, like a crab, trying to see both ahead of us and behind.
Down we went on our usual route, encountering nothing. The tunnels were silent, but for the constant drip-drip-drip of water in the dark. As we emerged from one narrow tunnel into a wider space, Silkie whimpered and whined, her misery echoing around the chamber. "Be still!" I commanded her. She fell silent and I was aware that the entire world had gone silent as well.
Suddenly came a large rending sound that shook the marrow of the mountains and threw me and Silkie to the ground. She scrambled to her feet and ran howling away through the darkness. I lay pressed against the rocky ground, hugging it as though I could stop its convulsions. Finally, it grew still. "Silkie!" I called into the silence. She did not answer.
No, Silkie did not come at my call, though I could still hear her terrified, high-pitched whimper echoing. Then she fell silent and I heard something else -- a roar that I have never heard in those tunnels before. It reminded me of the scream the snow makes as it tumbles down a mountainside on a sleigh of ice. A roar covered in velvet.
I too scrambled to my feet, but with the unseen roar echoing through the chamber, could not know which way to turn. I began my enchantment, though my teeth chattered. A heavy wind rushed into the chamber, bringing with it the smell of generations of foul gnolls from somewhere deep in the Blackburrow. It broke my concentration and my spell dissipated before I could cast.
And then the water surrounded me. It tumbled me over and over like a pebble on the sea shore. I could not tell what was skyward and which way led to death in its depths. The waters rushed onward, as frantic as I to find an outlet. After an eternity, the waters threw me onto an unseen ledge near the roof of the cavern before swirling away.
Though I lay on the ledge for days, the water did not drain. I was finally able to cast my light-giving spell and saw the ruin of the cavern below. My thoughts lay on my certain death and I was bitter and angry to die like a gnoll and not with honor in battle. I would not die unsung. You who read this, know that the world was shaken and I survived. For a little while.
Books
The Growing This item can be placed on the floor in any house type.
A competent bookbinder is a valuable resource who can restore any book that's had pages removed.
This book is a creation myth as told by the Valkyrie
As the world aged, the innocence of youth would begin to fade.
As the elements would rebuff one another, so too would the Urges bristle in the presence of another. This was the time known as the Growing.
Things were neither good nor were they bad, for the mortals would be the ones to make the ultimate choice. However, this was not the case everywhere.
In another world, in a world of never-ending Ice, there would be a place where the Contentment never ended.
The Valkyries soared throughout their kingdom city known as the Cloister of Euphoria. Being led by their queen, Frikka, they would know only Happiness, Peace, and Harmony. After ages of contemplation, the queen would understand how this came to be. For you see, Frikka was the first Valkyrie to think of the opposite.
Knowing that Happiness came from the absence of Despair, that Peace came about from the end War, and Harmony was known only when Strife was overcome.
Seeing that her people did not know this, they could never appreciate what it was that they had. And that was what she would give to the Valkyries - appreciation of the gifts given to them by the Mother Urge.
Gathering her people together, she gave a grand speech about what it was that she had found.
She explained to them what they were missing in their lives, but her speech was only met with blank stares.
As she continued, she saw that she would have to give a demonstration of what she meant.
In order for her people to understand Happiness she must show them Despair. Selecting from the crowd the greatest ballad singer within the Cloister of Euphoria, the queen banished her to a life in exile. For the first time ever, a cry of anguish was heard within the Cloister. Frikka explained that only when the singer would return to the Cloister, would Despair end and Happiness resume.
In order for her people to understand Peace, she would have to show them what War was.
She divided the Cloister of Euphoria into two peoples and set them against each other. Initially not knowing what to do, they stood there.
After some time, however, the Valkyries got the hang of it and aggressively attacked each other. Frikka explained that once everyone could learn to get along with each other, War would end and Peace would begin.
In order for her people to understand Harmony, she would have to show them what Strife was.
To demonstrate this she began to destroy all of the art, all of the songs, and all of the sculpture within the Cloister of Euphoria. As the Valkyries looked at their spartan surroundings, they felt strife deep in their hearts.
Frikka explained that when the art, and with it comfort, would return is when Strife would end and Harmony would begin again.
Frikka concluded her speech to the Valkyries by telling them that when all Happiness, Peace, and Harmony would return, the people would truly appreciate it all the more.
Leaving her people with her greatest gift, she returned to her chambers to think upon what more she could give her people.
As she sat in her chamber knowing that her people were no longer living in ignorance, Frikka felt as if she had granted her people a new life.
She stood upon her balcony and watched as the maiden after maiden would fight against each other, struggling to survive, and many wallowing in the depths of anguish.
And she knew this would be all for the better one day.
As she contemplated what she saw in the now ruined city of the Cloister, she was approached by the Urge of Ice.
The Mother Urge asked Frikka what had happened in her absence and Frikka explained everything she had done for the Valkyries.
The Mother Urge exploded in a fury never before seen by the Valkyries and its wake washed over them all.
Books
The Haunting This item can be placed on the floor in any house type.
This is a mastery tome. Use the knowledge contained within to gain a basic understanding of the tactics to use against the chosen foe.
"The Haunting" -- by Serina Melosine, bard of Qeynos Harbor. Being a tale that crosses time and knows no boundaries. For know that ghosts are merely those that once lived and that they, too, can love.
A story of true love.
She had always been drawn to that house. The whitewash of its crumbling stone walls had worn away with the rain to streak the ground around it with a dull grey film.
No one lived there or had for generations, yet in her mind's eye, Maida could see the walls rebuilt, a basket of flowers -- no, of ivy -- beside the circular window that faced the street.
Her mother chided her, "That is a place of haunting, Maida, and you would do well to stay away."
But Maida could not.
And so when her betrothed demanded she name the palace in which they would live, she said simply, "I would live there."
And he laughed, pushing open the remains of a heavy wooden door that still hung by crumbling leather straps.
"In this? You would be queen of the dead in this forsaken tomb," he said mockingly. "We will live in my summer palace. Make ready, for the wedding is within the year."
Now, Maida's heart grieved, for this tumble-down cottage of her youthful fancy was leagues from the king's summer palace. And so to ease her homesickness for a home that was not her own, she began to work the tapestry which would hang in her new house, once she was married to the king. "You are mad," said her mother angrily, "The king does you great honor and you stitch a hovel to decorate his palace." Maida shook her head and continued to work.
Sometimes she would sit within the cottage's humble walls, ignoring the jumble of broken crockery left through years of neglect.
She imagined the fireplace cleared of the fallen chimney stones, its hearth bathed red and gold by firelight. Upon the hearth would lie a cat -- no, a dog.
As she stitched in her chair before this imaginary fire, another chair would slowly appear in the darkness across from her.
And he read to her.
Maida felt she would always know that voice, though she knew it not in her waking. She could never remember what stories she heard.
She only knew that she felt as though the walls of her world closed in upon her at the thought of never hearing that voice again.
For she knew, even as she worked her tapestry in the still of her room, that once she was married she should never hear it again.
On the week before her wedding, Maida had nearly completed her work.
Her mother berated her: "That is not what that haunted house looks like!"
For Maida had carefully crafted from her dreams the thatching of the cottage roof, a tiny pane of glass centered in the front window and a line of herbs drying along the eaves.
And yet, anyone who saw it knew instantly which of all the ruined houses along the lane this was.
"We marry tomorrow, the omens are better," said the king, striding into her bower and disturbing her at her work.
"Tomorrow? That is impossible!" she cried, tracing the barest of curtseys before her betrothed. "It is a week tomorrow you mean." He laughed and pulled her roughly toward him saying, "Nothing is impossible for someone in love."
Maida felt a great weight lifted from her at his words. Nothing was impossible?
Then she would do what she must, for she was in love. In love with the voice that came from the darkened chair, beside the fireplace in the cottage of her dreams.
"I must finish this tonight," she murmured, "if we are to wed tomorrow."
And the king laughed again and left her to her work.
Through the night, Maida worked, pausing only to close her eyes and see with her heart.
At last as the sun slowly rose in the east, she ran a soft hand across her completed work. Her eyelids drifted slowly shut.
Then she heard him say, "I am glad you are staying, beloved."
He rose from the chair beside the fire and taking her hands into his, led her out the open door into her new world.
And so, when the king's entourage arrived to escort Maida to the altar, they found her not. All that remained in her room was her tapestry of the cozy white cottage. Through its window, one might glimpse the shadowy form of a man and a maid seated before the fire while a dog drowsed on the hearth at their feet.
Books
The Lady of the Lake This item can be placed on the floor in any house type.
This completed book can be placed in your house and read.
Waiting for an inevitable war is never easy. In this book, we meet two Qeynosian Guards at an outpost on Lake Rathetear who find themselves on the edge of war and far from home.
The drums echoed in the Rathe Mountains and reverberated through the deep waters of Lake Rathetear. They were victory drums, sounded by the ogres of the new Rallosian Army. They had taken the mountains and now their drums warned of their advance to the Lake itself. Aviak scouts reported their progress and numbers. There were so many ogres and trolls, it was said that the road was blackened by their shadows as far as the aviak eye could see.
"Why do they come here?" asked Ilkalla, one of the Qeynosian guards stationed at the Lake. "Because they can," responded Gerren, the other guard. "And here we are, unable to send word to Qeynos. We will die fighting alongside these savages." "Do not say such a thing," Ilkalla said uncomfortably. "They have treated us very kindly since word of the Rallosian Army reached them. You may not like them, but the aviaks have offered us shelter in these uncertain times.?
Smoke curled on the opposite shore of the Lake Rathetear, which obscured whatever the Rallosian Army was doing. The drums in the mountains had stopped. Other than the acrid tang of smoke drifting across the water, one might forget that the ogres were there. A squadron of aviaks swooped low into the smoke to get a closer look; their report was not encouraging. The ogres were apparently cutting down massive numbers of trees, stripping their bark and sharpening their ends into spikes.
Ilkalla wondered what the ogres would do with spikes the size of trees. It seemed unlikely they would build a fortification; they were on the offense not defense. "We must get closer...but so far the aqua goblins in the Lake are not cooperating with us. I must make them understand the danger to us all. If I can get safe passage, I could find out what the Rallosians are planning." The aqua goblins had for the most part retreated to their lairs in the midst of the Lake, trusting its deep waters to keep them safe.
One of the aviaks that Ilkalla had befriended went with her to the aqua goblins' chief. The discussion was disappointing to some extent, as the chief was more interested in the baubles Ilkalla had brought as gifts than he was in the danger posed by the Rallosians. It took the better part of the morning before he agreed to allow her safe conduct through the Lake. "I don't speak for them sharks, though," the chief said with a snicker. Ilkalla was a strong swimmer though and knew how to deal with the sharks.
Under cover of darkness, Ilkalla slipped off through the black water. She opted for a small coracle and paddled silently across the Lake. The smoke that drifted across the water may have hidden the ogres' activities but it also provided Ilkalla with excellent concealment from any watching eyes. She soon found out that if anyone were watching her, it wasn't the ogres. They were apparently so confident of victory that they set no watch along the shore.
Though she was tired from her trip across the Lake, Ilkalla knew she could not stop to rest. She must find out what the ogres were doing and then paddle back across the Lake without being caught. Pausing to listen for indications that she had been seen, Ilkalla methodically investigated the narrow beach until she found what she was seeking. The ogres were not using the sharpened tree trunks to build a fort; they were building a raft.
Quickly, Ilkalla returned to the coracle and paddled quickly back where Gerren and the aviak leaders waited for her. "They're planning to transport themselves across the Lake," Ilkalla panted as soon as she stepped ashore. "They are building a raft, a barge of immense size to carry their troops. It is nearly done." She sank to the shore and inhaled deeply. "We need help."
Gerren pushed back his hair and said, "The time to send for help is long past. The aqua goblins may have let you pass once, but they will surely side with the ogres and trolls." Ilkalla nodded, adding, "We must make for Karana and thence to Qeynos." Gerren laughed, "I would not let you take all the glory, my friend. You crossed the Lake; I will cross the mountains. The aviaks will not be able to stand alone."
"They stand not alone," said a deep, rumbling voice nearby. Ilkalla and Gerren turned, startled to see a centaur. He bowed and said, "The aviaks sent word to us. While we have not always agreed on things, this is different. This is war." Ilkalla slowly stood, looking over her shoulder across the dark water. "Yes," she said softly, "This is definitely war."
Books
The Last Battle This item can be placed on the floor in any house type.
A competent bookbinder is a valuable resource who can restore any book that's had pages removed.
When it is to end, Sky and Earth would wage endless war against each other.
As one side gained the advantage, the other side would steal it away from the other. This would continue until both agreed to one Final Battle.
Sky made its champions to fight against Earth, and Earth made its champions to fight against Sky.
Earth thought long and hard and created its champion.
Taking only from Earth and placing no Sky within its creation, Earth breathed its own essence into its warriors.
Sky watched Earth, and being ever jealous, stole some of Earth to put in its champions. Earth was smarter, for there was not much room for Sky's essence in its creations.
And thus, the Minotaurs and the Valkyries were created.
As the Final Battle would begin, the Minotaurs would win every battle.
Soon enough Sky realized it was about to lose, the great act of treachery was performed. Sky hid away its champions to stall the battle.
Earth seeing this, stole a piece of Sky when it wasn't looking and showed the Minotaurs how to use Sky against its champions when the battle would resume.
And thus, Magic was made.
The Kings would watch as the Minotaurs were given everything and they, Earth's first companions, were given nothing.
Having a piece of Sky within them, they felt jealousy just as she did. The Kings reached out and stole most of the Minotaur's Magic, upon which Earth banished the Kings into a circle of hidden places.
And thus, the Evil Ring was made.
Thinking this was a sign of weakness on Earth's part, Sky brought forth the Valkyries once again.
Continuing to cheat during the Final Battle, Sky summoned forth all of its strength and blew away all of the Earth's many, many companions. All that remained on Earth's body were the Minotaurs and the Valkyries.
And thus, the Last Two were made.
As the two champions fought, so would Earth and Sky. Watching as both champions were about to end in a draw, Sky launched a daring assault upon Earth. Opening all of its old wounds, Sky began to bleed upon Earth hoping to drown the Minotaurs. Earth was ready for this trick and formed a shield.
The blood of Sky and the shield of Earth would become merged as one.
And thus, Ice was formed.
Sky could no longer reach Earth and Earth could no longer reach Sky, for Ice separated the two.
Knowing that Sky could no longer touch Earth in anger, its anger raged out of control. Getting more and more angry, Sky spun itself into great circling storms until finally it could not undo the great knot it had tied itself in.
And thus, the Great Maelstrom was made.
Earth could no longer reach Sky and Sky could no longer reach Earth, for Ice separated the two. Knowing that Earth was prevented from lashing out in its anger, it began to boil and stew in its frustration. Its anger would rumble and rumble, tearing itself apart. When the anger subsided, Earth had crumbled until it was only a tiny portion of what it used to be. And thus, the Final Land was made.
Knowing the Last Battle could not be won by cheating, allowing only for the champions to decide the outcome, Sky became spiteful.
Reaching over to one of its original companions, Sky squeezed it until it burst, raining pieces of a Moon down upon the Ice.
And thus, the One Moon was made.
And now the fight continues. The Valkyries are the champions of Sky and we Minotaurs are the champions of Earth.
The Final Battle will be fought until there is only one victor.
And since we Minotaurs have more essence of Earth than the Valkyries have of Sky, it is only a matter of time before Earth prevails and the Valkyries are destroyed.
Books
The Least of Brell's Creatures This item can be placed on the floor in any house type.
This is a mastery tome. Use the knowledge contained within to gain a basic understanding of the tactics to use against the chosen foe.
Brell, the Lord of the Underfoot, brought a great many proud and noble creatures to Norrath. If at least not proud and noble, then at least somewhat useful. The least of all of these, though, are the boarfiends.
Everyone is allowed a bad day or two. We all have our slip ups. And the boarfiends were, simply, Brell's. As I understand the story to go, the creation came on the same day that the great Lord of the Underfoot invented ale, an accomplishment of such merit that you can almost forgive him for the boarfiends.
The first time he sipped that frothy brew, it seduced him with its rich flavor, and he promptly drank the whole cask. In this deep state of inebriation, he thought that it would be quite a riot to cross a man with a boar and give them no sense in their heads and an unsettling love of filth. The next morning, as he nursed his hang over and observed the boarfiends in action, he realized his mistake.
He was going to do away with them entirely, but his friend Bristlebane thought it was the most amusing thing he had ever heard of and refused to allow Brell to destroy them. Fizzlethorp gave them away as gifts to his goblins, to prove there was a race lowlier than they.
All was well until a goblin, also drunk on something and a little too pleased with his own joke, let a pack of them go free. In time, they managed to form their own little clan, subsisting entirely off of what others have thrown away.
They've no knowledge of their father, nor even their skinny twerpy little godfather, and somehow they have managed not to get themselves all killed yet. I suppose it's profitable to hoard everything everyone else doesn't want when you've the sole interest in it.
I'm sure Brell looks down on them to this day and feels a little bit ashamed, but then, who hasn't done something after one too many ales that they later color at the thought of? For the rest of us, though, it doesn't generally result in the birth of an entire race of creatures, just waking up with not as attractive as they were the night before bedfellows and armor tinted pink with purple ribbing. Maybe that last one was just me.
Anyhow, travel the Moors of Ykesha long enough and you're bound to run into one of Brell's lowliest children... just bury your trash before you sleep, though, and you won't have anything they want. Steer clear of 'em. Take it from me, Dugan Stoneaxe, their stink is not worth the laugh.
Books
The Merchant's Deal This item can be placed on the floor in any house type.
A competent bookbinder is a valuable resource who can restore any book that's had pages removed.
This book tells the tale of a merchant and what befell him in his quest for riches.
In the days of long ago, deep beneath the surface and far away from the land, there was a great city that prospered through trade.
Many a successful merchant would live like kings, drinking the finest wines and owning the smartest thralls. For every merchant king, there would be hundreds of merchants that would die copperless and broke.
T'Nax the Merchant vowed he would not be one of these failures.
T'Nax first began to sell clay bowls to visitors from far off lands. When he made no money from this, he began to deal in fine steel.
Adamantium would be desired shortly thereafter, rendering his steel worthless.
Insisting that he would not fail, he chose the riskiest of ventures - the sale of jewels.
Investing the last of his money in precious red rubies, he would come to find that the fickle market would change.
For it was not red that the people wanted, it was blue. Having no coin left to purchase even one blue diamond, T'Nax proclaimed his vehement hatred to all of his fellow merchants.
Hearing this exclamation, a mysterious shopper approached him.
"Did I hear you say that you would do anything to make more money than all of these merchant kings combined?" the stranger asked.
"To simplify it, yes, that is what I said" replied T'Nax
The shopper smiled in a very odd way and told T'Nax that he knew of a way that he could make it happen for the merchant.
T'Nax listened intently to what the shopper had to say.
The mysterious stranger told the merchant that there was an untapped market that he knew of. The stranger would offer T'Nax not only the location of where this market was, but also the merchandise that the people would be interested in.
All he asked for was one half of the profits.
T'Nax readily agreed to this deal, and both parties shook hands in a contract.
The stranger told T'Nax to venture to the Feerrott and set up shop amongst the marshes. The surrounding ogres would soon become very interested in purchasing all manner of materials.
Once the merchant established his merchant camp, the stranger would arrive with the supplies to be sold.
Having traveled long and hard, T'Nax reached the Feerrott.
Once he built his camp, the stranger arrived just as was promised. T'Nax was shocked to see an endless amount of odd materials filling his stores.
The stranger reminded T'Nax that he was promised half of the profits and promised to return in one year's time.
For the next year, T'Nax would watch as his sales would increase more and more each day.
Finally, as the seasons would pass a full cycle, the stranger returned. Having seen how his endless supply of merchandise had gained him near a thousand platinum coins already, T'Nax asked for more time.
He promised that by the time the stranger would return, he would have increased his profit ten times over. The stranger agreed, promising to return in two years.
Two years passed, and now T'Nax had turned the one thousand into ten.
T'Nax had asked the stranger for even more time, promising to turn the ten thousand into one hundred thousand. The stranger agreed once again, promising to return in five years.
By the time the stranger returned one last time, T'Nax had the most ambitious request waiting for the stranger.
"I will give you my eternal vow that I will not leave this place until I have one million platinum coins to split between us. All I ask is that you give me all the time I need," T'Nax proclaimed, having no plans on keeping his oath. Sealing the deal with a handshake, the stranger pulled back his hood and revealed his face. Innoruuk, the god of Hatred and Spite, laughed at T'Nax and said, "I accept your eternal vow, friend, but I regret to inform you that it might be some time until I return." With that, the stranger turned and walked away, never to be seen again. And T'Nax still waits.
Books
The Minions of the Mighty Creature Catalog This item can be placed on the floor in any house type.
As I catalog various flora and fauna, I can refer to this book.
The Minions of the Mighty Creature Catalog by Pearl Honeywine
Throughout Norrath there are regions which seem a wellspring of hidden power. Three such areas have been uncovered by travellers thus far: Permafrost, Cazic Thule and Solusek's Eye.
Fortunately for the living, they are scattered, which likely helps keep the sources of their strengths from joining together.
Of course, no one knows from what source each of these regions derives its energy.
Permafrost is within Everfrost to the far north. Within the forbidding boundaries of Lavastorm, one can find Solusek's Eye. Cazic Thule, named for the ancient god of Fear, is entered through his ancient Temple within the jungles of the Feerrott.
Take into account the weather for the region in which these focal points is located to know what to expect. Permafrost is aptly named, as no thaw reaches this icy realm. Solusek's Eye takes the traveller into the fiery abyss of Mount Solusek. The Temple of Cazic Thule is well-known to trap the unwary and fill even the stout-hearted with dread. Walk carefully in these realms, should you decide to see them for yourself.
It is an unusual twist of the gods' humor that of old, there is but one plant in common to all three realms: the death's head lichen.
It endures heat, cold, damp, and desert conditions to thrive practically unseen on the bones of the fallen. The death's head lichen can only be seen using a gnomish scope on harvested skulls or other large bone fragments.
Centers of concentrated energy are often filled with golems that feed on that power.
In addition to these magical protectors, some living and some not, who see it as their purpose to protect that region from all who dare intrude.
Books
The Missing Pages of the Sword Heist Journal - Rebound This item can be placed on the floor in any house type.
These pages were ripped from a book, but then rebound.
The pages were ripped from a book. They were originally written in some weird code. One that was not a known language. But by using the Eye of Ree to peer at the missing pages you were able to read the passages.
...Our union is not an easy one. These dark elves are back stabbing creatures, but the promise of riches greater than all the plunder of the Far Seas is too much to ignore. This alliance is not good on so many levels. It is one thing to ally with the Ebon Mask, but to ally with the Foci is unwise...
...So it is the knowledge of an ancient professor that will show us the path. We have known of his eternal imprisonment in the valley for quite some time, but it always seemed worthless to us. Now this trapped spirit has knowledge greater than anyone knew. His involvement in the engineering of his former school shall allow entry to the great fortress above...
...The Foci's plan seems foolproof, provided the Overlord does not find out. It is simple, the Mask enters through the forgotten portal. Soulfire is found and replaced with another. The Mask then uses our routes to get to the caves where we will aid in the journey to the elven lands. There we are to meet the ambassador king and exchange gifts...
...After our exchange we will return the scroll to the Foci and receive our part. Our raiders shall go unseen and many ships shall be plundered in the name of Lord Ree...
Books
The Mute Bard's Tale This item can be placed on the floor in any house type.
Whether the tale is truth or myth, this tale relates the Mute Bard's history and how he came to be imprisoned by the djinn.
I learned to speak before I learned to walk. Precocious, my parents said.
Many days did I spend literally singing for my supper, for our family is among the poorest in Maj'Dul.
One day as I traveled to the Crags to seek inspiration, one of the harpies caught me and carried me away to her nest.
Her claws dug deeply into my shoulders as we flew, circling higher and higher.
Clearly deranged, her chatter rambled from stories of long ago, to Maj'Dul, and to the djinn.
She demanded that I sing for her, and fearing for my life, I did so.
"Stop!" she cried, transforming there and then into a djinna of great beauty, still gripping my shoulders tightly in her hands.
"You must never sing again, you come too close to our Names!"
And with that, she brought me to the Shimmering Citadel where the djinn cut out my tongue so I could sing no more.
Though I cannot speak, I can still hear -- which is something some of the djinn did not take into account.
They fear music, especially ancient, pure music. Though they think they have destroyed and hidden rare instruments of old, the instruments can still be found and repaired.
I hid one of the keys in the room beyond the darkest room.
Books
The Nightblood This item can be placed on the floor in any house type.
This is a mastery tome. Use the knowledge contained within to gain a basic understanding of the tactics to use against the chosen foe.
"The Nightblood," by Trinni Mellosius. My teacher told me to write a research paper about Nightbloods, as if I've ever seen one! Anyway, this is my research into the nightblood.
Some of my students are less inclined to take their research seriously. What follows is an example of the most poorly written report I have ever seen in my years as an instructor.
Miss Mellosius is not only a half-elf but evidently a half-wit. Please consider this more of a paper on how not to write an in-depth study.
Nightbloods are really very unfortunate and misunderstood. A lot of people think they are manifestations of evil and get very scared thinking about them, but I like to think of your average nightblood as a big, overgrown bull that kind of breathes flames, but not really. There! Doesn't that make you think of them differently already?
Well, all right, maybe that was a bit much. Nightbloods are pretty creepy.
They aren't from our world at all, so that makes them doubly creepy! It's as if somewhere, there's a something that we can't see, but the nightbloods can and they are taking advantage of this to travel around.
If that doesn't give you the creeps, I don't know what will!
The first confirmed sighting of a nightblood was only about fifty or three hundred years ago or so, give or take.
These paladins were locked in battle with some kind of elemental when suddenly, poof! Right out of the air came these big, broad-shouldered beasts with horns curving around the tops of their heads.
It must have been a pretty scary sight!
Anyway, so one paladin turns to one of the others and says, "Lo! Run to Lord Bayle and tell him of this fell beast we have awoken from its foul sleep!"
I guess they talked like that a lot back then. The other paladins didn't want to run, they wanted to stay and fight!
They could feel what the only survivor later said was something like waves of heat and evil from this creature.
These paladins had with them a squire, or a knight, or something else and so they told him to get away and tell Lord Bayle while they stayed to fight this thing.
So the squire or whatever took off running. He stopped at the top of a hill, or the end of a bridge (depending on where you've heard the story), only to see the beast totally wipe out the paladins with a pretty awesome incantation.
The squire ran and ran back to Qeynos and did not stop till he got to tell his story directly to Lord Bayle.
In fact, this kind of long distance run turned into a big annual event across Karana to commemorate this event, so that means this had to have happened a very long time ago.
Anyway, Lord Bayle sent out fifty of his bravest warriors, who found the beast and slew it before it could regain its strength and cast anymore spells.
If you ask me, that's putting a lot of weight to that one story, but that's what I learned as the origin of the nightblood.
Only it's not really about the nightblood, is it? Let me see, I'm sure there's more.
Oh! Did I mention it's evil?
Since that first nightblood however many years ago, there have certainly been a lot more of them in Norrath.
No one knows if this is because of all the unrest after the Shattering that made more of these hidden paths that the nightbloods travel through, or if there is something else that's stirring them up.
These things apparently aren't afraid of anything and will attack whatever they find in their way.
If you are unfortunate enough to get close to one, listen to its voice. It has a really odd way of speaking, almost as though it doesn't know how to talk at all.
Now, that means to me that it's stupid, but my teacher says that it means instead that we simply do not know what language it is using. Whatever.
In any case, some of these things do learn to speak properly and carry on a good conversation before they rip the person they're speaking with to shreds.
So, that's all there is to know about nightbloods.
I guess the main thing to remember is, you don't want to meet up with one! If you see one, don't stop to talk with it! Run! The End.
-- Teacher's note: Trinni, come see me immediately about this paper!
Books
The Nine Contemplations This item can be placed on the floor in any house type.
A competent bookbinder is a valuable resource who can restore any book that's had pages removed.
This book presents several riddles that the druids and rangers of a place called the Surefall Glade would puzzle over.
To know truth, one must understand the cycles of life and nature. In order to find harmony within the Surefall Glade, you must find harmony within yourself. Take these mantras and know them in your heart. When the words become second thought, then you will have found your balance within the world.
Growth
"Stasis without thought, Timeless nothing is a wrong. Once this sprouts from naught, It will guide one all life long."
Decay
"To live one's full life, One must start and one must end. As joy is to strife, It is growth's only true friend."
Health
"When life is so quick, Vim and vigor should not hide. The mind pours the tonic, Body is where it resides."
Ocean
"To ride on its back, One feels the strength of our moons. Sink into its black, One will gaze at life filled dunes."
Sky
"It falls from above, And sinks deep into the lung. True home of the dove, And every song it has sung."
Storm
"In numbers they're loud, And forms tempests from breezes. Welcome it's wet shroud, For its gift replenishes."
Sun
"If one stares too long, It will be the last sight seen. From it trees grow strong, Changing yellow into green."
Underfoot
"Darkness rules supreme, In the globe below the peat. Just as in a dream, Its gateway is its conceit."
Hope
"When all things are none, When existence is bereft, There will be but one, The only thing that is left."
Books
The Orcs of Norrath This item can be placed on the floor in any house type.
A competent bookbinder is a valuable resource who can restore any book that's had pages removed.
This book is a guide that is intended to help the reader identify orcs by analyzing various noticeable features about them.
Having grown up in Freeport, I have known about orcs ever since I was a small child.
Though my parents would commonly threaten to feed me to the orcs when I was acting in an unruly manner, I wouldn't actually see one until I was close to fifteen years old.
Since then I have devoted much time to studying these beasts and have collected my findings within these pages.
One of the first things that a person will notice about the orc is their body shape.
They stand slightly shorter than human-height, yet possess the hulking brutish qualities of an ogre.
Having a slightly stooped posture, the orc's monster-like qualities rarely cause someone to mistake them for a traveling human or half-elf.
The arms of these horrible beasts are one of the most striking features.
Rarely will you find an orc who does not possess a frightening amount of muscles bulging throughout their arms. Their musculature extends from their fingertips all the way up to their shoulders.
The upper body strength of an orc should never be underestimated.
Easily recognized, an orc's face belies its monstrous nature.
Mottled and pockmarked, their faces are pressed together causing them to look as if they have a perpetual scowl.
The nose is not defined, rather appearing to be two small holes with flaps of skin around them.
One cannot look at the face of an orc and not notice the tusk-like fangs jutting from their mouth.
These teeth cause the orcs to speak in an incoherent manner, making it difficult to understand whether they are crying for mercy, or crying out for reinforcements.
Surprisingly, they do not use their teeth as weapons, which is fortunate indeed.
Coming in a variety of different colors, the orc's skin will range from a deep green to a burnt orange and even all the way to a deep black.
Not much is known why there is such a broad range in the skin coloration, but it can be said that their aggressive nature isn't affected by the color of their skin.
Orcs are not exclusively carnivores. They have been seen from time to time eating various plants if meat is not available.
Though their food of choice is (usually) cooked meat, some groups of orcs have been reported to cultivating food from grains to livestock.
Though they have the reputation of eating living people, I have come to the conclusion that this is just a story that must have started many years ago.
At first it may look as if the weapons used by the orcs are crude and rusted. This may be the case in the Commonlands, but not in Zek.
Utilizing the same standard swords and axes used the world over, the metal they use in its construction is what makes them so effective.
Being very similar to iron, the metal has a red tint that gets more vibrant for a short time after the weapon has been used to kill something.
The orcs has two modes of dress. Either they will be covered from head to toe in the strongest armor they can get their hands on, or they will be stripped down to nothing more than breeches.
The latter is usually worn by those holding lesser positions, such as lumberjacks.
There is no such thing as "casual" clothing amongst the orcs.
Of all the information I've collected about the orcs over the years, there is one thing that I have always found disturbing.
No matter where I have gone, from the Commonlands all the way to Zek, I have never once spied a female orc.
This causes me to believe that of all the countless orcs I've seen... I've only seen one half of their numbers.
Books
The Pirate Queen and the Map This item can be placed on the floor in any house type.
This completed book can be placed in your house and read.
This book is titled "The Pirate Queen and the Map". It is the first book in the five part series starring the Pirate Queen as the hero.
As the bow of the ship sliced through the waves, there was no mistaking the markings on the sails. Known throughout the Shattered Lands for being a terror on the high seas, this vessel was none other than the Painted Harpy. Though notorious from Karan to D'Lere, there was only one thing more feared than this ship, and that was her captain - The Pirate Queen Alta.
Never a more daring woman, Alta was as dangerous as she was beautiful. She crewed her ship with the most dastardly men to ever walk the deck and always paid them a fair share of the plunder. But the one treasure they wanted was always off limits. For if ever a pirate were to approach her with less than honest intentions (and that's saying much for a pirate), the Pirate Queen would show them what happened to those unfortunate men.
Hanging from the main sails of the ship were the withered corpses of all the pirates who tried to woo the Queen. Challenging the swarthy pirate to a duel, the Pirate Queen would see to it that her opponent was not only defeated, but was humiliated before they died. Then, to keep the warning fresh in the crew's minds, their bodies would rot from the beams of the ship.
For you see, no matter how much gold would be plundered from other vessels that dared to brave the turbulent ocean, there was only room for one thing within the heart of this nefarious pirate. For many years, she sailed the world in search of the one thing the she desired more than gold and silver - the Rubicite Heart.
The Rubicite Heart was a gem larger than anything Norrath had ever seen before. Having first heard the tale at a tavern on the docks of Freeport many years prior, she would dismiss it as being another story told over a pint of ale. Thinking nothing of it, she continued making a living boarding other ships and taking her share of ill-gotten gains.
Not until she would plunder and scuttle a merchant ship bound for a small island outpost known as the Far Seas Trade Isle would she again hear about the Rubicite Heart. Not finding anything of value on the ship she proceeded to keelhaul the ship's captain, careful not to kill him, until he eventually confessed to the true treasure stowed away on the vessel.
The only thing him and his crew were bringing back to their headquarters was a book and a map. She ordered the crew of the ship to all walk the plank, then set fire to the schooner. Ordering her helmsman to keep sailing until they found another merchant vessel, she locked herself away within her cabin and began perusing the book.
Reading the book, she learned that it was the journal of an adventurer that lived long ago. This nameless fortune-hunter would travel far and wide looking for all manner of treasures. Though he managed to find quite a number of priceless artifacts, the only one that managed to elude him was a gem worth all of relics combined - the Rubicite Heart.
She continued to read about how he had found it in a forgotten temple deep within a dark jungle. Recording his journey, he described in detail how he overcame numerous traps and eluded the guards of this ruin. By the time she was done, Alta was convinced this gem was not only real, but it would be her ticket to retiring from her pirating ways.
Just as she closed the cover of the book, a great swell overtook the ship, rocking it violently. Not only was she knocked down, but the book flew across her desk, knocking over the lamp she used for light. The spilled lamp catching the map on fire, she was unable to put it out before it was burned to a crisp. Sadly, her one opportunity to find this priceless treasure had gone up in smoke before her very eyes.
Books
The Precious Fairy Book This item can be placed on the floor in any house type.
This is a mastery tome. Use the knowledge contained within to gain a basic understanding of the tactics to use against the chosen foe.
"The Precious Fairy Book," copied from the Everling Laboratory collection -- Being a compendium of the uses for fairies and instructions for gathering them at the peak of potency.
Everyone is familiar with fairies, perhaps from childhood tales. This book will provide readers with a greater insight into the Norrathian version of these winged creatures.
The main body, so to speak, of work at the Everling Laboratory is the animation of certain golems.
Learning how to put something together, whether by magic or by manual labor, requires knowing how to disassemble said item.
In this way, our research is able to pinpoint the highest concentrations of mana that can be derived from a variety of sources.
The best sources of mana are concentrated in fey beings, such as fairies.
Unless one is able to build one's laboratory directly atop a natural wellspring of mana, the next best method of obtaining it is through direct extraction.
As with morning dew, the best time of day to obtain fairies for mana is at dawn.
Fairies can be found readily throughout most of modern Norrath. A large number of them reside in the Enchanted Lands.
There are two main types of fairy body-style, although many subtle variations can be detected through close examination.
One type is the so-called "dragonfly fairy" and the other is the typical fairy.
Dragonfly fairies are distinguished by an elongated lower body from which no legs are visible. The typical fairy looks like a shining, miniature gnome.
Unless one has the need for a specific type of fairy, the dragonfly and typical fairies are interchangeable, as they both have most of the same body parts.
Consider one's purpose in obtaining concentrations of mana.
If the end result is an offensive purpose, one would likely wish to use dragonfly fairies, which seem to have an essence that boosts the offensive spells. Typical fairies, on the other hand, have a faint infusion of something better for defensive spells.
More research will be needed to determine what manufactures these essential traces, but it is important to keep in mind.
If you remove the fairy's wings and hold them up to the light, you can see the network of veins within them.
Without their wings, fairies cannot fly. Flying springs from magic. Magic springs from mana. Therefore, the wings are concentrated mana.
This is true of either dragonfly or typical fairies.
There is also the matter of fairy dust, which can be obtained again from either type of fairy.
To make the most of the gathering process, it is useful to hold the fairy over a clean cloth and scrape it with the dull edge of a knife.
The dust collects in the cloth, which can then be used to transfer it to a storage container.
Some who search for concentrations of mana will make a reduction from the broth made by boiling fairy bones.
The sheer number of fairies it will take to make this concoction can be overwhelming. It is practical to store left-over fairy bones from previous extraction methods and prepare the reduction at one time.
Whenever there is an imbalance in the world's forces, there is an upswing in negative energy fairies. This does not mean fairies who have no energy, but rather fairies that tend toward malicious or mischievous behaviors. If it is not possible to convert these fairies to one's own purposes, they may be used in the same way as any other fairy.
Fairies are very useful in terms of distilling mana for a variety of purposes.
They may have other uses as well, some of those will need to be chronicled elsewhere.
If you are considering the study of fairies, you may well be the one to prepare such a volume.
Books
The Prophetic Mystery This item can be placed on the floor in any house type.
This is a mastery tome. Use the knowledge contained within to gain a basic understanding of the tactics to use against the chosen foe.
"The Prophetic Mystery" -- from the writings of Geraint Caradoc
"The under dynasty will be eaten, starting with your bottom."
This is the phrase that started it all. First it was a curiosity, and now that I have begun to look further into it, my interests have grown. I had come across the prophecy as I was rebinding some of the books in my grandfather's library that had survived these few years since the War of Plague upon Qeynos. It was in an ancient dialect of Erudish, but its mention of a dynasty eaten and my bottom made me laugh.
Due to the age of the prophecy, I have begun to wonder if this could be something that has already taken place, or something still to come. I have decided to start investigating it, and am keeping this journal as record of my findings.
"The under dynasty" may be speaking of an underworld empire or leadership of a kingdom that came from an underground location.
Gnolls, kobolds, dark elves, dwarves, halflings, minotaurs, goblins, shik'nar, fire giants, burynai, undead, and dragons all come from below, or live below ground. Ak'Anon, Neriak, Blackburrow, the Underfoot, and Nagafen's Lair can all be considered kingdoms that are located underground.
Under dynasty could also be speaking more of an underdog; the oppressed; the disadvantaged. This would also fit with the gnolls, kobolds, minotaurs, and goblins.
"Eaten, starting with your bottom," is an odd phrase to say the least.
To eat is to wear away, corrode, devour, ravage, consume or overtake. But "starting with your bottom"... what could that imply? The underside, the base, the origin, lowest point. That could be both physically, or socially. The lowest of people within that society, or the lowest point of the empire's recognized land? Maybe the foundation of the empire itself?
Dragons definitely devour, and they tend to make their lairs in underground locations. But if it were a prophecy relating to the mystically powerful dragons, then I should be able to find other related prophecies. But my search for other prophecies, so far, has had little results.
I did find several others that also referred to kingdoms coming to an end, but I was able to discern key differences to know they were not speaking of the same instance.
I consulted an oracle who is well known for her ability to see underlying meanings, and some of her previous prophecies have already come to pass. I had my notes with me, but she never even read them!
"You have Brell on the brain, and cannot dig yourself out from under it. An old enemy, always buried... quakes and cracks upon the land. They make the attack upon their holy land. Crusade to take it for all his children. Growls and drool below the man of stone and stein."
It was all she could say.
These new details of the prophecy allowed me to narrow my search; gnolls, kobolds, minotaurs, goblins, burynai, and dragons. They all make growl sounds, and drool.
The line about Brell could be because it all happens underground, or it could be that the prophecy involves some of his creations such as dwarves, halflings, gnolls, kobolds, and goblins. This is further supported with, "for all his children." The most telling was, "The man of stone and stein." That is a dwarf.
The only dwarven civilizations I know can be found on the continent of Velious and Faydwer. Of those locations, Kaladim in the Butcherblock Mountains is the one I know with suspects lurking near by; kobolds and minotaurs.
The dwarves have long held that they are the only true children of Brell Serilis. The gnolls, kobolds, and goblins have long been offended by such claims. They, as well as so many other creatures of the Underfoot, all hold him as their creator. I suspect this prophecy is about the kobolds.
Kobolds are a subterranean, tribal race that resemble oversized attack dogs. Compared with a gnoll they are bulkier, and more stout. They walk hunched over, and often on their knuckles.
They appear to be less civilized then gnolls, as they never don clothes and rarely equip tools, but they are a force to be reckoned with. They are not to be underestimated in their magic proficiency nor in their raw brute strength. They have leaders and shaman that can organize the tribe quickly and effectively.
They have long engaged in a fierce and horribly bloody grudge against the younger children of Brell, the dwarves and gnomes.
Lore tells of the direct relation of this animosity leading to the birth of the Lord of Despair, Rolfrom Zek. This sibling rivalry could easily be fanned into a blazing inferno.
Kobolds are close with nature, especially beings which they consider to be kindred souls, which can allow them to gain the cooperation of other creatures for whatever means.
They believe in the spirituality of animals, but also the existence of their deity and creator, Brell. This can make for a dangerous enemy. They can gain the cooperation of others, and they have the conviction of religion to embolden their crusades.
If this prophecy is about the kobolds and the dwarves, then it stands to reason that it has not happened, yet. It is a warning that the kobolds will rise up after an earthquake and take the city of Kaladim from the dwarves themselves!
No such feat has been attempted, but if they were to organize and shore their numbers they could have an army big enough to take advantage of the confusion and grief that would accompany an earthquake in the Butcherblock Mountains.
I wonder if I should send my studies of this prophecy to the dwarves of Kaladim, or if they would simply laugh it off. I am not a seasoned scholar of prognostication.
I should do more research before I trouble them.
Books
The Siren's Song This item can be placed on the floor in any house type.
This is a mastery tome. Use the knowledge contained within to gain a basic understanding of the tactics to use against the chosen foe.
"The Siren's Song," as sung by Serina Melosine, bard of Qeynos.
Studying sirens can be very dangerous. Their songs can lull the most hardened adventurer to his doom. Instead of studying actual sirens in the Norrathian waters, these lovelies are instead represented by the song of one of the most celebrated bards of her time.
Sing with me, songs fromdays gone by. Sing of the men who have passed our way. Our song they cannot deny!
Though I am bound to the sea And I mean not to lead them astray Many are the men who come to me
All along the shores I sing Through the night and into day Touching the mariners' heartstring
My long hair is green as softest sea-foam As soft as the ocean's spray My melody follows the men as they roam
Do you hear the song of the sea? From aboard your ship as it sways? Do you feel the need to fall in love with me?
I am a siren, sisters are we Come to us, come to us and stay The siren's song will set you free
Join with me now in Prexus' depths Nothing but water can come between usI promise you a boundless joy
Sing with me, mariner, a soft song That flows like time across Norrath's seaway The call of the siren can be so strong
The mariners last not, they never remain And soon, their cold flesh turns to grey We sirens begin again our refrain
Sing with me, songs from days gone by. gone by. Sing of the men who have passed our way. Our song they cannot deny!
Books
The Storm Shepherds - Darnalithenis of Felwithe This item can be placed on the floor in any house type.
A competent bookbinder is a valuable resource who can restore any book that's had pages removed.
This book is from the Storm Shepherd series. It is the story of a high elf that left his home for the wilderness and his further travels across the world.
The time period after the Rending was filled with stories of tragedy, hardship, and the struggle to survive.
During this era, many people would make names for themsleves through either acts of cruel villainy or courageous sacrifice.
Some, however, would fade into obscurity never to have their tales told in a bard's song. This is the story of one of those forgotten heroes, Darnalithenis of Felwithe.
Darnalithenis was born and raised in the beautiful city of Felwithe.
Though he was groomed to join the ranks of the holy paladins that protected the city, he could never ignore the longing he felt as he stared deep into the depths of the Greater Faydark forest.
After much thought, he finally brought himself to steal away in the night and leave for the wilderness.
He would spend the next several decades living among the woodland creatures of Faydwer.
He learned the secrets of moving through the trees undetected, on how to forage food from the land itself, or when the winters were hard, to track and hunt down game for his dinner.
He enjoyed living his life being free of the constraints of the city, but he also knew that he would not be accepted amongst his kin were he to choose to return.
One day, he came up with a plan.
Darnalithenis began to make as many arrows as he could shove in his quiver.
When he was done, he gathered as much food as he could, then hiked to the western edge of the forest.
Continuing through the foothills of Butcherblock he avoided the roads, and in turn, the dwarves that guarded them. After skirting by Kaladim, the city of the dwarves, he traveled for several days.
Finally, he reached the docks that would take him to other lands - and possibly others like him.
The first place he came to was the great trade city, Freeport.
Though it was not as clean or beautiful as his home, Felwithe, it still was larger than anything he had ever seen.
He spent some time there, but not caring for the ever-increasing brutality of the guards, decided it was time to move on.
He continued to head west, traveling though dark forests, craggy mountaintops, and endless plains.
Soon enough, he reached where the land came to an end. Choosing to follow the coastline to the north, he eventually found a glade populated with people just like him.
Darnalithenis knew that his journey was now at an end, for the people of Surefall accepted him for whom he was, not what he was expected to be.
Darnalithenis spent many years living among the tenders of the glade he now called home.
He would spend his time educating those who journeyed to outlying forest on the ways to respect the wilderness.
At one point, he even joined with a group of people who were trying to stop an army of gnolls that were assaulting a nearby village.
With him leading the party on a direct path to the village, they arrived just in time to join the fray.
It was a bloody battle, and many people lost their lives, but the gnolls were driven back.
As Darnalithenis left to return to the glade, he spied the party he was with killing hundreds of woodland creatures for nothing more than their skins. In a fit of rage, he slaughtered every last one of the poachers.
When he returned to the glade, he knew that it was time for him to return to the solitude of the Greater Faydark.
Darnalithenis traveled across the continent to the city of Freeport. Someone calling himself the Overlord now ruled the city and demanded an exorbitant fee to travel across the ocean.
Darnalitenis had no plan on paying this man any fee, so in the dead of night, he stole a ship and began to sail across the ocean.
On the fifteenth day out his ship was attacked by a fleet of ships sailed by his dark cousins, the Teir'Dal.
He leapt into the ocean, swimming for a nearby island he spotted.
He would spend the next several hundred years trapped on this island.
He lost all hope of rescue, for the seas roiled with a fury that he had never seen before.
To make matters worse, the cyclopes that lived on the island with him were beginning to overpopulate.
Soon enough they would know that he lived there, too. And one day, they did.
As he gathered water from a stream, he heard the sound of the large rock flying through the air just a moment too late.
As he lay there, back broken from the impact of the rock, he watched as the cyclops lifted his foot in order to crush Danalithenis's skull.
A moment later, the Cyclops fell to the ground with a thud. Standing over the cyclops's corpse was a human, pulling a sword from the monster's back.
The man said, "It looked like you could use some help."
Books
The Storm Shepherds - Gremius Hazzengrav This item can be placed on the floor in any house type.
A competent bookbinder is a valuable resource who can restore any book that's had pages removed.
This book is from the "Storm Shepherds" series. It is the story of a man raised on the streets of Freeport, his rise to notoriety, and his quest for atonement.
The time period after the Rending was filled with stories of tragedy, hardship, and the struggle to survive.
During this era, many people would make names for themselves through either acts of cruel villainy or courageous sacrifice.
Some, however, would fade into obscurity never to have their tales told in a bard's song. This is the story of one of those forgotten heroes, Gremius Hazzengrav.
Gremius Hazzengrav was born the son of simple bandage merchant in the city of Freeport.
When he was only a boy of seven years, he witnessed an exchange between his father and a member of the Freeport Militia.
He watched as the militiaman insisted that his father needed to pay more protection money. When his father insisted that he didn't have any more money, the militiaman ran a sword through him and left his corpse for the ratonga to loot.
Not having any other family, Gremius nearly starved on the streets.
He was taken in by a ratonga who taught him how to pick people's pockets as they passed by. Gremius was forced to give his guardian all of the coin he earned in exchange for a place to sleep at night.
Ten years would go by with Gremius forced to steal for food, while the ratonga did nothing and became rich. The day he turned seventeen, Gremius walked into the sleeping ratonga's room and slid a dagger into his throat. The next morning, he enlisted in the Militia.
While he was training to be a member of the city's law enforcement, he received constant praise for his dedication to the job.
The most praise would come from his drill instructor, and took Gremius under his wing. On the final training day, the soldier with the best scores would be made into an officer and the one with worst would be lowered into a pit of hungry, rabid hyenas.
As the ceremony began, Gremius was made into an officer and an unfortunate ogre was chosen to feed the hyenas.
As the drill commander put all of his weight into pushing the lever that held the victim suspended over the pit, something unexpected happened. Instead of pushing the lever, he stumbled over it and clumsily fell over into the pit, just barely catching the lip with one hand. For you see, someone had greased the lever.
The commander screamed for Gremius to help him up before he fell in. Officer Gremius walked over to the pit, looked down and said, "You killed my father ten years ago" -- and then crushed the commander's fingers with his foot.
Gremius didn't leave until the commander finally stopped screaming.
Gremius would become notorious throughout Freeport for his merciless enforcement of the law.
If a merchant tried to bluff his way out of protection payment, Gremius would kill them. If a soldier forgot to salute the image of the Overlord whenever they passed one, Gremius would kill them. If a citizen walked within the city without proper papers, he would kill them.
This would continue until the day that he tortured and killed some worshippers of a long forgotten god, Karana.
For the next several weeks, he would wake up screaming from horrible nightmares. He would dream of a wizened old man who stood in the center of a massive rainstorm. The winds would begin to tear Gremius apart until he would plead for the man to stop the rains.
When the rains stopped, Gremius could see a broken crystal sphere that floated above a pool of darkness that was slowly seeping into the ground. All around him, endless trees would turn black and the darkness would spread, moving towards the ocean.
Eventually, the darkness would surround him and finally eat his soul.
Gremius finally realized that the dreams were a vision.
Not only did the darkness represent what he had become, but within them were a clue on how he could atone for all of his past crimes.
He began searching throughout the Nektulos Forest for answers, but found nothing to give him insight on how he could "clean" the taint on his soul.
Then he remembered the pirate's stories of countless islands out within the ocean. He knew what he had to do.
Gremius began constructing a sailing vessel from the trees in the Nektulos Forest.
He spent the next year trying to build a boat to take him to the island that he saw in his vision. Having left Freeport, he was now an outlaw and would be killed on sight, or else he would have just stolen a boat from the harbor.
During the construction, he had much time to contemplate what he could to change his life around, but could never come about to a clear answer.
When he finally completed the boat, he sailed off into the Neriuss Flow.
His plan was to sail upon the turbulent ocean, stopping at island after island, until he finally found the one in his dream.
He spent many months searching island after island. On one desert isle he found to be inhabited by nothing more than numerous cyclopses, he stopped to refresh his water supplies.
As he carefully looked for water, wanting not to disturb the natives, he came across an interesting sight.
A cyclops was about to kill what appeared to be a High Elf, sharing the same physical traits as many of his countless victims. Believing this to be his chance to atone for his past sins, he came up behind the cyclops and slew it before it could kill the elf.
Not feeling the expected sense of absolution, Gremius looked at the elf and prepared to kill him in anger. Seeing the helpless person in front of him caused Gremius to remember the heinous actions he performed upon the worshipers in Freeport.
For the first time since the day he saw his father killed, Gremius felt a long-forgotten emotion. Pity.
Books
The Storm Shepherds - Tammin Whipperwillow This item can be placed on the floor in any house type.
A competent bookbinder is a valuable resource who can restore any book that's had pages removed.
This book is from the "Storm Shepherds" series. It is the story of a young woman who has been given a divine gift and the responsibility that comes with those gifts.
The time period after the Rending was filled with stories of tragedy, hardship, and the struggle to survive.
During this era, many people would make names for themselves through either acts of cruel villainy or courageous sacrifice.
Some, however, would fade into obscurity never to have their tales told in a bard's song. This is the story of one of those forgotten heroes, Tammin Whipperwillow.
Tammin Whipperwillow knew from a very early age that she was different.
Whenever she would help her mother collect berries cooking, she would always say hello to the squirrels and they would say hello right back.
Her mother would always laugh whenever Tammin would tell what the squirrels were saying, but Tammin didn't understand what was funny.
It didn't stop with just the squirrels.
She would hear the birds talking about where to find the best grubs or which of the apples were ripe. Her mother always called her a "good luck" charm because Tammin always knew where to find the best fruit to gather.
Not until Tammin was twelve years old did she realize that no one else could hear what the animals were saying.
One day, as Tammin was playing outside her family's home in Rivervale, a dog came up to her and had an urgent look on his face.
Tammin asked the dog what was wrong, and the dog told her that Lubby, Mayor Fatbottom's son, had fallen into the well.
Tammin quickly told her mother that Lubby was in trouble, and the whole town ran to help him.
When they asked her how she knew it happened, she told them the dog told her.
Everyone laughed, except for old Dripple Smitherish. Later that day, Dripple stopped by their house. Dripple announced that Tammin had been called by the Storm Father.
From that day on, Tammin would learn all of the teachings of the Storm Father, in addition to her numbers and letters.
As she grew older, she learned that she not only had the ability to speak with the animals, but could also sense the patterns of the weather.
During the construction of the Third Wall, she would be asked if it was going to be a clear day to do the work, or if hopefully it would rain.
Not everyone believed she had the powers she claimed to have.
Many people who knew the stories of the Storm Father claimed that he was a made-up god. They claimed praying to him would be as useful as praying to have Rivervale Island become part of Antonica again.
She would always dismiss these claims, for she had been told by the forest why she was given these powers.
One day as the wind whipped up, it began to speak to her.
She realized the wind was actually the voice of the forest. It told her that the Storm Father was with her, but not in the way that she thought he was.
The forest went on to tell her that Tammin was one of the three people that could save her.
When Tammin asked what she needed to do to save the forest, the clear sky broke with rain.
Wind gusts swirled the rain around in such a way that it formed a series of patterns that Tammin vowed not to forget.
The rain first showed an old man holding a shepherd's crook, then a crystal sphere that was broken in half. Darkness swarmed from the broken sphere, spreading throughout the forest. Soon the rain of darkness was so thick, she couldn't see the forest.
When she asked whom the other ones that could help, she was shown a man with a sword and one with a bow.
The one with the sword laid his weapon down on the rock in front of her and it became a shepherd's crook. The one with the bow laid down his weapon and it became a perfect crystal sphere.
She asked where they were, and where she stood, the trees began to slowly change with the seasons, building up in speed, until she saw many seasons pass before her very eye.
Then all returned to normal.
She called out to the forest and asked it what she needed to do when she met the other three. The forest remained silent.
She called out again, and the forest still remained silent. She knew that the answer would come one day. For now, she would wait.
Wait for as long as she needed to.
Books
The Storm Shepherds - The Calm This item can be placed on the floor in any house type.
A competent bookbinder is a valuable resource who can restore any book that's had pages removed.
"The Storm Shepherds - The Calm" Second Edition This book is from the "Storm Shepherds" series. It is the story two people from different times and backgrounds and how they join forces to find the answers they're looking for.
The time period after the Rending was filled with stories of tragedy, hardship, and the struggle to survive.
During this era, many people would make names for themselves through either acts of cruel villainy or courageous sacrifice.
Some, however, would fade into obscurity never to have their tales told in a bard's song. This is the story of how two of thouse forgotten heroes would forge a friendship that even the Rending couldn't tear apart.
How Danalithenis of Felwithe and Gremius Hazzengrav came to meet is a tale unto itself.
Needless to say, were it not for Gremius to have been at the right place at the right time, Danalithenis would not be part of this new tale.
Danalithenis, suffering from grievous wounds, was just barely saved from the clutches of death by the atoning Gremius.
Gremius looked at Danalithenis, caught sight of his wounds, and offered the elf his last healing potion.
Once Danalithenis was healed, the man introduced himself to the elf and offered to help him escape the island.
Listening to the human's tale, Danalithenis accepted the offer, and they both sailed off into the turbulent ocean.
Over the next several weeks as they sailed aimlessly, Gremius would fill in Danalithenis on what he missed during the centuries he was gone.
Danalithenis would learn that the gods have left the world, or so many people believed.
Gremius professed that, due to his visions, he wasn't necessarily sure that was the case.
Danalithenis listened to Gremius as he described the vision and then told the man of the Surefall Glade.
He said to Gremius that he thinks the old man was Karana, but had no idea what the darkness represented.
After staring long and hard at Gremius, Danalithenis stated that he believed the story and would accompany him until the human found the truth he was seeking.
Danalithenis and Gremius traveled for what seemed like months, maybe even years, across the endless oceans.
They would stop at every island they found, both to replenish their water stores and to look for game.
During this time, they became very good friends.
As they landed at each island, Gremius was amazed at how much the world of Norrath could change so often from island to island.
Danalithenis would sometimes pose theories as to where he believed they were, using odd names such as the Feerrott, or Lavastorm, or even Everfrost.
Where Gremius was constantly in awe of the sights, Danalithenis saw a world destroyed.
Finally Danalithenis couldn't take it anymore and asked Gremius what had happened to Faydwer, to the Greater Faydark... to Felwithe.
Gremius looked at Danalithenis for a moment, and said in a sympathetic tone, "All of it was destroyed in the Rending, friend. As sure as the moon is in the sky, there is no more Faydwer".
This was all Danalithenis needed to hear. He stepped inside his cabin and began to cry.
Several days after their last conversation, Danalithenis spotted an island off in the distance covered in trees.
They were both as excited as each other, but yet they were both hoping to find something different.
As they made landfall, they gathered their gear and started to explore, both believing this to be their destination.
When they were deep enough into the trees, they found a surprise that neither one were expecting.
As they approached a calm pool of water, they spotted a person on the other side of the pool, sitting motionless.
Aside from each other, they had seen no real people in countless months.
As they stepped closer, they were able to make out that it wasn't just a person, but rather a child.
Finally, as they got within several feet of the person, Danalithenis uttered the word, "Halfling".
At that very moment, the old halfling opened her eyes.
She explained that she was in deep meditation with the forest around her. She also looked at the two, gave her name as Tammin Whipperwillow, and said she had been waiting for them.
Books
The Storm Shepherds - The Downpour This item can be placed on the floor in any house type.
A competent bookbinder is a valuable resource who can restore any book that's had pages removed.
This book is from the "Storm Shepherds" series. It is the story of how three people had come together to fight the darkness encroaching upon an enchanted land.
The time period after the Rending was filled with stories of tragedy, hardship, and the struggle to survive.
During this era, many people would make names for themselves through either acts of cruel villainy or courageous sacrifice.
Some, however, would fade into obscurity never to have their tales told in a bard's song. This is the story of how the Storm Shepherds would come to be the protectors of an enchanted land.
The three heroes, having come together at last, proceeded to detail all of the events that led them to meet that day.
The halfling druid learned much about the faith of the Storm Father from Danalithenis, who called him by his old name, Karana.
Throughout their discussions, something came over Gremius. As he listened to the stories of faiths gone by, he realized that what was missing from his life. Belief.
When Danalithenis was done telling his tales, Gremius stood up and drew his sword. They looked at him and saw a single teardrop fall from his eyes, falling into a stone beneath his feet.
He threw his sword down and repented for everything he had done in his life, asking Karana for forgiveness. What he was especially sorry for was those worshipers he tortured and killed.
At the moment he finished confessing, his sword changed into a shepherd's crook... but one made of glowing steel, and with a pointed blade extending from the bottom of the staff.
When Danalithenis heard everything Gremius confessed, he realized that he had befriended an evil man.
Even now, after all these hundreds of years, the corruption of civilization still followed him. In anger, he threw down his bow on the same stone and proclaimed that he would rather die than let the shadow of corruption taint the world any longer.
At that moment, his bow changed into a small glass sphere.
Gremius recognized that sphere as the one from his dream that brought him here.
As he stood up from his crouched prayers, Danalithenis could see that his blackened Freeport Militia armor was gleaming silver, like the sheen from a newly fallen rain.
Tammin, the old druid, said that the time has come to pass. Now is when they would fight the darkness. She explained her full vision to the pair.
When she was done, they knew they were all tied together stronger than any friends could possibly be.
Thus, the Storm Shepherds, as they called themselves, worked to push back the blight that was tainting the lands.
Danalithenis used his skills as a tracker to find all of the creatures that had been afflicted, allowing Tammin to cure them - or in the case of those who were too far gone - for Gremius to put them out of their misery.
As a team, they were able to prevent the ever encroaching darkness from spreading across the land.
For the next several years, they would win victories against the darkness that would begin to taint the land.
They soon enough realized they would not be able to do it alone, so they recruited followers. They found a small village of shipwrecked refugees living along the coast and talked with them.
Many of these people, elves just like Danalithenis, joined them in their battle
The elves would tell Danalithenis of the sad fate of Faydwer and how they came to live in this enchanted isle.
This would have normally crushed Danalithenis, but he now had a new cause - to fight the blight.
Holding his newly crafted bow and the clear crystal sphere, he vowed that if he could not save the Greater Faydark, then he would save this enchanted forest.
In addition to the elves, the Storm Shepherds gathered a group of followers from the village of Rivervale.
With everyone working so well together, it wasn't long before the Storm Shepherds attracted the attention of those responsible for the blight.
Soon enough, creatures of darkness would begin to pursue the three companions, seeking to ensure the Shepherds would not destroy all of their hard work.
Many battles were fought against these fiends, and most of them were won.
As battle after battle passed, the years began carrying on.
Soon enough, Tammin would succumb to one enemy she could not fight - Time. One night as she lay in her bed, too weak to stand anymore, she asked to see both Danalithenis and Gremius.
She told them of one final vision the forest, screaming in agony, had given her. She patted them on the hands, told them they knew what had to be done, and closed her eyes.
On one fateful day, the followers of the Storm Shepherds found the bodies of Danalithenis and Gremius in a small clearing in the forest. Clutched in the dead elf's hand was a black sphere that swirled with a frightening darkness.
The followers would later take up the name of their leaders and keep fighting the darkness as the Storm Shepherds.
To this day, they continue to protect both their enchanted lands and that mysterious black sphere.
Books
The Tales of the Burynai This item can be placed on the floor in any house type.
This is a mastery tome. Use the knowledge contained within to gain a basic understanding of the tactics to use against the chosen foe.
"Tales of the Burynai" Complied by Irowon. Translated by Marcus Riverswell
Compiler's Note: I managed to trade some particularly shiny stones for these tales, one by one, from an unusually cooperative Burynai trader over some time. Bit by bit, he'd snort and reveal bits of his people's lore to me. I have no way of knowing if any or all of it is completely fake, as the Burynai have lied before and will again, but the stories do, if nothing else, give us clues about how they want to believe the world to be. -Irowon, scholar of Timorous Deep
In the Beginning * * * In the beginning Brell made the furless Burynai and then made the furless Burynai different and different again, but Brell did not like what he had made. Then, finally, Brell made the Burynai, and he knew it was good.
Brell made the Burynai up from the earth and gave us a snout that smelled everything and eyes that saw everything and claws to dig at the earth. And he made us smart! The Burynai better than any of Brell's other creatures could shape the ground in his image and claim it in his name! And Brell was happy because he had his true children.
Why We Dig * * * Burynai are Brell's chosen. Brell has many gifts for us. Gifts in the earth. Burynai must find those gifts and when we do, Brell's power will be ours! Brell never meant for Burynai to be slaves or less to anyone. Brell wants Burynai to rule everyone, but Burynai must earn it. Burynai must find what Brell left for us.
So Burynai dig through the earth. Dig until we find that treasure he has left for us. All treasures are treasured. Everything shiny will one day be ours, and the furless races will have to ask us for the shinys. The furry races too! Every race but the Burynai will have to ask the Burynai to be generous to them, and the Burynai will refuse them all!
Stealing the Sun * * * There was one time when Burynai stole the sun. Burynai like things that are shiny. Shiny is good, shiny is Brell's gift to us. And the sun is the shiniest thing Burynai have ever seen, and the furless Burynai all seem to worship it. So the Burynai stole it, because the Burynai take all that we want, thinking maybe it was the great power Brell promised us.
But Burynai should have known that Brell's power is under the ground and that the sun is untrue. Burynai stole the sun, you see, but it gave us nothing. Burynai kept it in a bottle and all it did was burn us and cry to be let out. So the Burynai put the wicked sun back into the sky and kept looking. The Burynai kept part of the sun in the bottle, though - the best part, and have it still. Just so the sun remembers the Burynai were once its masters.
The Very Good Power * * * Burynai one day found a good power. Not the great power of Brell, but a good power. This power can be in each one of us, and we can use it to find the great power. This power brought dead Burynai back to help the living Burynai and delivered pain on our enemies. The first Burynai to find this power brought back his mother without knowing what he did, but he tried and tried again and finally brought back his father knowing exactly what he did.
And soon we all brought back our mothers and fathers and grandmothers and grandfathers, and it was good. Burynai wanted more of this power. We found the less races knew of this power too, and we plundered their oldest cities, finding more secrets of the power. This power had grown and grown in the Burynai. It has grown to something very good, though not great as Brell's power. This very good power will bring us Brell's great power. The Burynai have death in our hands, and soon we will have all of life there too.
Claiming the Tower * * * Burynai at one time had so many shinys that they had nowhere to put them, nowhere safe where burglars could not take them. So the Burynai looked for a home. Burynai took over many great trees and deep caverns, but the trees were too weak and the caverns had too many tunnels going in and out. The shinys were not safe there.
But then the world changed, and many of the weaker races were gone, or even weaker than they always had been. When that happened, we found our home - our tower. There were many undead there but Burynai made them dead again with our very good power. So we made the tower ours, and the weak furless will never have it back.
The Savior * * * The Burynai were almost dead, you know. All gone! But then Brell saved us. The nasty goblins meant to kill us, you see. They had a great and terrible shiny that was going to kill us all. But Brell sent a savior
who showed us what the nasty goblins were going to do, because the Burynai are Brell's chosen. The goblins much have known what power we have and meant to steal from it. Foul goblins! But they are not the chosen of Brell.
We stole that great shiny - right from under their noses! The shiny is ours and the power will be ours...
Compiler's Afterword * * * At those final words, my contact grew quiet and more than just a little frightened looking. He was silent, and after that day, he never returned to Timorous Deep. He was replaced by another Burynai who, despite how many shinys I offered him,
was as taciturn as every other member of their race that I have met. It was such a pity. I was just beginning to come to understand these odd little creatures. - Irowen, scholar of Timorous Deep
Translator's Appendix * * * I am certain this great and terrible shiny was something more than any simple Burynai can understand. What is its true nature? And what of this savior they believe to have been sent by Brell? Are the Burynai truly agents of some great change, or merely self obsessed subterranean diggers? Kurn's cursed Tower, I am sure, holds the answers to these
questions, and probably many more. Unfortunately, while the Burynai may be willing to engage in a limited amount of trading, they will allow no one to enter their home and react violently to any incursion. More subtle methods will need to be used to penetrate the tower and learn the secrets of the Burynai. - Marcus Riverswell, scholar of Qeynos
Books
The Three Brothers This item can be placed on the floor in any house type.
This is a mastery tome. Use the knowledge contained within to gain a basic understanding of the tactics to use against the chosen foe.
Let this tale be told in the light of the fireflies, as we eat of the emperor, and comfort one another through our loss.
There were three, but now two. Mighty Khorr, Ruthless Girok, Thoughtful Gorir. Once united amongst their weave, through their web, under watch of the Three Sacred Sisters, their thread is now severed and we mourn.
Our island gave to us, the Sisters provided for us, and it was good. We looked upon it and saw only bounty, only peace. Our bellies full and enemies none, we pursued life and all that it had to offer.
And yet, perhaps we took too much. Our numbers grew, and the emperors waned. Stomachs growled and our young died. Girok moved first, and fed poisoned words to Khorr. There was room for only two, and the third must perish. And so we knew war, with brother and sister.
"Why?" Thoughtful Gorir cried out, "Why must this be so?" And Mighty Khorr paused. "We do this because there is only room for two. We shed tears that this must be so, brothers." Thoughtful Gorir saw the tears, and knew this to be true.
"But wait, Mighty Khorr! Stay your fang one moment longer. Should we perish, then what of you? Will not Girok strike at you once we are no more? Your hatchlings will take our place, and the emperors will wane again." Mighty Khorr looked behind and saw Ruthless Girok poised to strike. They saw the wisdom in Thoughtful Gorir's words.
"Ruthless Girok has plotted this, woven a tangled web that we cannot escape. We must cut the ties that bind, sever the arm so that the body does not die."
And the Mighty Khorr turned their back to Ruthless Girok.
And the Thoughtful Gorir turned their back to Ruthless Girok.
Girok found itself alone, and hungry, and betrayed by their ambition. They understood the folly of their way, and accepted their exile. All three of us, together for the very last time, built great silken ships. We shed tears for our loss as the Three Sacred Sisters led Ruthless Girok away from our island - north, toward the horizon.
And so we mourn, we mourn under the light of the fireflies, for the loss of our arm, our sibling, the thread that made us whole. And we remember, and we live better, so that brother never fights sister again.
Books
The Three Keys - The First Key This item can be placed on the floor in any house type.
This completed book can be placed in your house and read.
This book is titled "The Three Keys - the First". It is the story of a small girl by the name of Aiven and what when she is given three separate keys.
As Aiven woke up that morning, she felt the day would bring her all manner of exciting surprises. But this was a common feeling, her being a girl of only ten years. She had already learned that discoveries could be found anywhere if you just went looking. What she didn't know was that that today, those discoveries would come looking for her.
After she helped her mother around the farm for most of the morning, Aiven asked if she could go play. She listened patiently to all the warnings her mother recited to her, for she had heard them all before. With a final "I will, Mom", she sprinted off to explore, with not a second thought to what her mother said. After all, how dangerous could a troll actually be?
As Aiven engrossed herself in a rousing game of "What's Under This Rock?", she lost all track of time. Even though her mother had told her to be home well before sunset on penalty of the switch, she paid little attention to the lengthening shadows. Not until one stole over her rather quickly did she finally look up, only to see what - or who - was casting the shadow.
Standing in front of her was an old woman wearing odd robes. She asked Aiven, "What is it, little girl, that you are looking for?" Aiven instantly remembered all the warnings her mother gave her, especially the ones about little girls being sold to the dark elves. "Interesting things," she replied, at which time the old woman smiled.
"If you are seeking things of interest, then these will help you open the way to finding them," the old woman said, and handed Aiven a small pouch. Inside were three keys, one copper, one silver, and one gold. "But what doors do they unlock?" she asked. "Many exciting discoveries," the old woman said warmly. Aiven looked up to ask what the old woman meant, but she saw that she had vanished without a trace.
Aiven decided it was now a good time to go home. As she turned around, she was surprised to see a door standing right behind her. Not pausing to question how that was even possible, she quickly tried the keys, knowing this was no mere coincidence. The first one she tried opened the door right away. Looking inside, she saw the most interesting sights she had ever witnessed.
Entranced by what she saw, Aiven stepped inside the door. Floating all around her were oddly shaped rocks, straw-stuffed poppets, and bowls of flavored iced creams. Inside this enormous room was everything she could ever want! Just as she was about to start eating some of the iced creams, she noticed an adjoining room connected to this one. She thought, "If this room contains so many wonders, what does the next room hold?"
In the next room, she saw someone who looked like her older sister. If she had one, that is. The young maiden was locked in an embrace with a young man wearing a suit of shining armor. As they were about to kiss each other, Aiven exclaimed, "Ewww! Boys are icky!" At that moment, Aiven noticed that behind the couple was even another room. She sidestepped the two, let out another "ewww", and walked into the next room
In this room, she saw a smiling woman who looked a lot like her mother. Standing around the woman were several girls of different ages. The more she looked, the more she thought the girls looked a little like her. And though she couldn't exactly explain why, Aiven thought the room felt like "Happy". Aiven, feeling she was interrupting something, turned around to leave - at which point she smacked her face into a tree trunk.
As Aiven rubbed her bruised nose, she gave the tree a good pound with her fist. The tree then said, "No need to be rude." Aiven looked up and saw that is was not a tree after all, but rather a gigantic one-eyed man. He peered down at her with his one eye and said, "You unlocked the door to your heart. People usually never leave the first room they enter. Do you want to unlock the next door?"
Books
The Three Keys - The Second Key This item can be placed on the floor in any house type.
This completed book can be placed in your house and read.
This book is titled "The Three Keys - the Second". It is the story of a small girl by the name of Aiven and what happens to her when she seeks to unlock the second door.
Aiven would have never expected such amazing things to be hidden behind such an odd door. She looked at the remaining two keys and wondered what interesting things these ones kept locked away. Finally she answered the giant one-eyed man and said, "Yes, I think I am still curious. Show me to the next door," and remembering her manners finished with, "if you would be so kind."
The cyclops reached down and hoisted Aiven onto his shoulders and said, "Hold onto my topknot... it might get bumpy." He then proceeded to step out of the first door and back into the plains. Aiven asked the giant, "Where are we going?" to which he responded, "You have the key to unlock your mind. We are going to find the door".
The cyclops then began to walk with slow, steady steps. As they began to travel in the direction of the sun, his pace began to pick up. Sooner than Aiven would have thought possible, they had reached a great shoreline with endless ocean ahead of them. Instead of stopping, however, the cyclops continued walking into the ocean.
Aiven was worried that they would sink, but noticed that the cyclops never broke the surface of the water. She asked him, "How do you do that?" The cyclops replied back, "When you put you mind to something, nothing is impossible." And for some reason, that made perfect sense to Aiven.
They continued to travel across the ocean until they eventually made landfall in a misty green forest. Aiven said, "What an odd forest". The cyclops replied, "It is not a forest. When you give something a second thought, you may wind up seeing things differently." So Aiven looked and thought again, and saw the forest for what it really was this time. And they both continued traveling.
As they traveled on, they came upon a land covered in snow and ice. They climbed a great mountain and saw winged lizards engaged in heated arguments. After they passed, Aiven asked why they were arguing. "New ideas are just as important as old ones. They think otherwise", said the cyclops. And they traveled on.
Eventually, the pair found themselves walking around a wild land, full of lush jungles and arid savannas. All around them were the ruins of a once mighty civilization. Before Aiven had a chance to ask, the cyclops said, "Even though you think you 'can' do it, you should always ask yourself if you 'should' do it. No one here has ever learned that." And they traveled on.
Soon enough, the cyclops announced that they had arrived at their destination and lowered Aiven to the ground. She looked around and recognized where they were. "But, we're back at where we started!", she said. When there was no reply, she looked around and saw that he was gone. All she was left with were his words during their journey.
Aiven remembered what the cyclops said about giving things a second thought. She gave the door a second look and saw there was another keyhole she didn't see before. She thought about whether she 'should' open the door just because she 'could', but being ten years old, wasn't able to understand the cyclops meant by that. Aiven then unlocked the door... and found no room on the other side. This time, she knew to turn around.
As she turned around, she wasn't surprised to see a new companion. In front of her was a very old centaur. She had seen one before, so she knew not to be rude and stare. The centaur looked at her and said, "You have unlocked your mind, child. You have used two keys. Forget about the third. I can lead you safely home now, if you so desire."
Books
The Three Keys - The Third Key This item can be placed on the floor in any house type.
This completed book can be placed in your house and read.
This book is titled "The Three Keys - the Third". It is the story of a small girl by the name of Aiven and what happens to her when she unlocks the third and final door.
"But what about the third key?" she said, "What could this one possibly open?" The old centaur looked at her with a stony gaze and said, "This one unlocks your fate". Those words were enough to spark Aiven's curiosity once again. She had to know what the final key opened.
Aiven told the centaur that she wanted to see what the last key unlocked. The centaur said in a warningly, "That doorway is not for little girls. Some things are better left unknown". She insisted, however, until the centaur finally relented and told her to climb up onto his back. He told her to close her eyes as they traveled.
She felt the centaur begin to gallop, and waited impatiently. At least had the decency to let her see where they were going. After a short while, she risked a peek. All around her was a vibrant storm of colors, violently swirling in a chaotic maelstrom. She quickly shut her eyes again and refused to open them for the rest of the journey. What seemed like an eternity later, the centaur said, "We are here."
Where there were once swarming colors, all that remained was the pair, a door, and an endless field of white. Aiven asked where they were, but the centaur just looked at her dispassionately. Aiven realized he was waiting for her to unlock the door, so she obliged. As she was about to open the door, then centaur said, "It is not too late, child. I can take you home. I fear for what you will find inside, child."
Aiven told the centaur, "I can't stop now." I'm going to find out what my fate is. And with that, the centaur vanished. She knew it was now or never, and opened the door. Inside she saw an immense room, oozing with darkness. Aiven summoned all of her courage, and stepped through the door.
It didn't take long for her eyes to adjust to the darkness. It took a few moments more for her to realize she could see in perfect darkness. As a matter of fact, there were a number of odd things happening. For one, she felt like she was taller and her muscles ached. Another thing was that she was dressed in an odd robe and had a number of different interesting objects hanging from her sash. The most interesting thing was when she looked into a nearby hanging mirror, she saw that she had the face of an old woman.
Before she realized what was happening, she began walking to a massive door made from the blackest metal she had ever seen. She moved her hand in an odd manner and the door exploded into a thousand pieces. She then called out in an old, yet steady voice, "I am here, fiend! This world is not yours, it is ours! I may not be able to stop you, but I WILL slow you down." With that, a figure materialized in front of her... formed of a darkness unlike anything she had seen before.
The figure of pure darkness spoke, "You have refused our offers. You have destroyed our towers. You have entered our lands." It continued, "By my hands, it is your time to suffer... for all eternity", at which point Aiven presented forth a glimmering sphere. "No... you cannot know of that", the form screamed, "Two hundred thousand years and no one knows of that!!!" Aiven replied, "I remembered it from when I was a child."
At that moment the sphere in her hands started glowing white. "Finding this wasn't hard, fiend," said Aiven as the sphere's glow intensified, "What was difficult is letting go of the keys I held onto for all those years." The sphere was now as bright as the sun. "As a matter of fact, even what I'm about to do isn't as hard as letting go of those keys. For you see, I know for a fact that this is where it ends." With that, she took a deep breath, exhaled, and the sphere exploded with the intensity of a thousand suns instantly dying.
Aiven was shaken awake by her mother. "I was worried sick, Aiven!", she yelled, "I thought you were taken by the nomads!". Looking around, she realized she had dozed off beneath a tree on their farm. She told her mother she had the oddest dream, to which her mother said, "Don't believe any of that nonsense. No one ever got far by believing in silly dreams. Now you had better clean up before we eat dinner, do you hear me?". Aiven nodded her head and went back to the house to wash up. But first, she stopped by her room, took something from her pocket, and placed them under her pillow - three keys of copper, silver, and gold.
Books
The Trials of Sir Morgan This item can be placed on the floor in any house type.
This completed book can be placed in your house and read.
This book is of an ornate Old Antonican design. A crest appears on the cover depicting images of a sword, a long mountain trail, a storm cloud and a bridge made of titanic timbers. There is a title, "The Trials of Sir Morgan."
Once many quatrains ago there lived a brave knight named Sir Morgan. Mighty was his blade and fearless was his soul. Along with his noble friend and squire they traveled the wilds of Old Antonica defending the helpless and defeating the evil.
One day the gods of valor spoke to noble Sir Morgan and told him to go to the great and stormy plains of the Storm Lord, Karana. There in the vastness of green and wind travelers were being assaulted by giantkin and gnollkin. Many brave knights fell to the evil in the plains, but Sir Morgan rode to the rescue.
Sir Morgan and his faithful squire set foot near the edge of a mighty bridge of timber only the giants could have built. There at the bridge he repelled wave after wave of evil making the roads safe for travelers. His reputation grew and the residents of Karana came to love him and hold celebrations in his name.
But the seeds of evil were planted. Gods of hatred and envy whispered to his foes and the brave and mighty Sir Morgan was soon to stand alone. The faithful squire was kidnapped and taken away from Sir Morgan. The humble servant of the brave knight was nowhere to be seen. In the squire's tent all that remained was a note written in blood.
The note was addressed to Sir Morgan and it was a challenge to him. "Defeat each of the trials and you shall see your squire alive again." Sir Morgan spared no time. His faithful squire was in need of rescue. With exquisite armor donned and the greatest blade in hand Sir Morgan set foot towards the trials ahead.
Sir Morgan raced to meet his first challenge at the Fields of the Corrupted, home of farmers in league with the coalition of evil that wished for the knight's demise. There, amidst the field he arrived knowing full well that no pitchfork could dare challenge the strength of his armor, but upon arrival his true challenge lumbered forth- scarecrows! One after the other the ten effigies fell to his blade. Sticks and hay were no match for he. He then rode to his next challenge.
On thundering hooves Sir Morgan rode, racing onward to the ancient pyramid and evil uncertain. Having to dismount his steed the knight was faced with an obstacle unbecoming, the pyramid had slipped into the sea. A beguiling sextet called to him in hopes of leading him to the Hold of Prexus. Grabbing soft clay from the shoreline the knight filled his ears. He removed his armor and fearlessly swam into battle. Yet again, against odds meant to cause him defeat, Sir Morgan was victorious. And on he rode.
Sir Morgan rode across the south bridge spanning the Plaincutter River when he found himself trapped by his next trial. There on either side were Bloodsaber knights, worshipers of death and decay. The commander and his platoon marched forward, weapons drawn. In a flurry and charge Sir Morgan began to dispatch of the evil knights, tossing of them into the unyielding grasp of the river below. Surely such vile men shall rise again as a horde of revenants, but not this day. He won this battle, but with each battle his strength dwindled. Still, onward he rode.
When the brave Sir Morgan arrived at Deadview Pass the ground began to quake. He was met by hill giants whose rumble arrived before their gaze. Trapped with the Plaincutter to his back he was forced to charge upon his steed. Galloping around and around the gallant knight caused the giants to lose their balance, many fell into the river never to rise. With but one to go he was tossed from his saddle by a club made of whole timber. Lumbering closer and closer came the last giant surely to crush the disoriented knight.
Doom was upon him, he could not gain his ground. Just when all hope seemed for naught his noble steed charged forward with great speed and great might. The steed pounced upon the barrel chested giant and forced him into the river, but the steed too followed both never to rise. The great steed gave his life for the valorous knight. With his spirit nearly crushed and a long march ahead, the knight put one foot in front of the other going forward to the final trial.
In a field of ancient ruins Sir Morgan arrived. The stench of undeath permeated the rubble. Here he stepped trampling upon toppled stone and crushed bones. This was once the place of ancient magic the ruins of the Keep of Immortality, all that is left of the evil mage Varsoon. The silence was broken when a figure arose and called forth familiars of two. The arcane creature ripped and tore at even metal armor. Sir Morgan fought on despite his dwindling strength.
As all seemed to get dark a ray of blessing beamed down upon the knight. The gaze of the Twin Deities gave him great might. Sir Morgan arose from near death and slew the familiars with ease. He spied the dark shadow that let them lose darting to the hills. He gave chase.
His chase was long and his prey would not tire. When it seemed as though the chase would never end it began to slow. The figure of evil step foot upon a mound surrounded by titanic thorns, like talons or a great maw rising from the ground. The shadowy figure stood quiet and waited for Sir Morgan and the final battle.
To great shock the evil behind the trials removed the veil of secrecy. The light of dusk gave way his features, it was Squire Wimbley, his faithful servant. "Why?" the knight asked. "I tire of being the servant." He said with an evil bellow. "Now I see the truth of your arrogance and selfish ways. I wish to be the hero, but I cannot be the hero until Sir Morgan dies!" The squire was not himself.
Unknown to the knight, the squire was possessed by the evil of an ancient amulet he procured from the remnants of a place called the Keep of Immortality. The powers of envy and hate slowly overtook him. It lead to this battle to the death. The brave knight tried to suppress the advances of his once faithful squire. He did not want to harm him, but he was forced to or his own life would have been taken. Squire Wimbley fell to his blade. Sir Morgan freed the squire from his madness and all was well once again.
Books
The Varsoon Collection, Volume 1 - Varsoon and the Combine Era This item can be placed on the floor in any house type.
This completed book can be placed in your house and read.
This book is titled "The Varsoon Collection, Volume 1 - Varsoon and the Combine Era". It is a complete volume that details the rise of a young mage during the Combine Era.
The following compilation is a brief presentation of the legends and myths of the mage, Valdoartus Varsoon, known to many simply as Varsoon. Much work was done to separate the facts from the fiction in order to bring this work to you, the reader. The following volume begins with the first known appearance of this mysterious mage, complied from what little records actually exist from the Combine Empire.
The first known account of Varsoon comes from a series of ancient scrolls that were found, surprisingly enough, in an empty ale keg in the lost city of Kaladim. The scrolls tell the tale of a young mage by the name of Valdoartus, and how he achieved an amazing feat. For the first time in the history of the Archesian Order, a mage solved all seven of the Ember Conundrums on his first attempt.
The scrolls continue to tell of this mage's rise to fame by detailing several more accomplishments that would soon follow. Valdoartus, not content with solving the Conundrums as easily as he had, began to search for a previously unknown Conundrum. He spent the next several years altering the methods in which fire could be drawn from stone, until he finally mastered the technique of the Yellow Flame.
With the Yellow Flame inscribed on the front page of his spellbook, he went before the Illucidic Council and offered to give them a demonstration of the Eighth Conundrum. Once the Yellow Flame had achieved it's highest temperature, Valdoartus used nothing more than a single fig leaf to transform it into a Pillar of Earthen Lore.
Once his demonstration was over, the Council convened for the next fortnight. When they re-emerged, they proclaimed the Eighth Conundrum truly did exist and that Valdoartus would be credited as its discoverer. Not only would this solidify his name as a respected mage among the Illucidic Council, it would also open the way for future discoveries.
Due to his discovery of the Eighth Conundrum, Valdoartus Varsoon was granted access to the most secret of all magicks - Planar Thaumaturgy. He would spend the next several years researching the most simple of spells within this line of magic until finally attempting his first spell. After a grueling twelve hour ritual, he opened a rift between the planes.
Already prepared for his journey, Valdoartus stepped though the rift and began his journeys through the planes. Not much is said in the scrolls about the specific details of the journeys themselves, but the scrolls do highlight many of the artifacts that he brought back with him when he returned.
The scrolls are rather vague about the specifics about the artifacts, but they describe them as being unlike anything anyone had seen before. Of all the artifacts only three were mentioned in detail. One of the artifacts was an egg that burned to a crisp anything that touched it, yet were it to be placed within a ceramic vase, it would glow as bright as the sun in the sky.
One of the other artifacts that Valdoartus brought back with him was named the Whisper of Marr. Its description is rather odd, for the scrolls claim it was shaped like a creature not unlike a rabbit and also made from pure crystal. When set on a table made from a sapient apple tree, the Whisper of Marr would turn pink and quietly say the word "Glorious." Anyone within earshot of the Whisper would wake up the next morning and find a pouch in their hands containing exactly three pieces of gold.
The only artifact that Valdoartus purportedly kept for himself was a small cup carved from ivory. Upon its lip were etched letters in an unknown language. Never being seen without it, Valdoartus was constantly questioned as to its function. The only answer he ever gave was, "It is the greatest discovery I have ever made."
Books
The Varsoon Collection, Volume 2 - The Quest for Immortality This item can be placed on the floor in any house type.
This completed book can be placed in your house and read.
This book is titled "The Varsoon Collection, Volume 2 - The Quest for Immortality ". It is a complete volume that details the quest of a young mage to find the secrets of immortality.
Many say that some questions are best left unanswered. For those engaged in the highest of pursuits, this is more of a challenge than a prohibition. Indeed, some say that there are those to whom the words, "That is impossible" should never be uttered.
The stories surrounding Varsoon's quest for immortality primarily come from a journal found in the Academy of Arcane Science's private larders. Looking for a midnight snack, a student happened upon it behind a jar of prune marmalade. The writer of the journal, one Aldrenus, claimed to be the apprentice of the great mage Varsoon.
According to the account kept in the journal, Valdoartus Varsoon possessed an ivory cup that he called nothing more than the Chalice. He believed it was the key to unlocking the secrets to immortality. Once he found the way to granting eternal life, he planned on sharing the secret with anyone who wanted it. With this goal in mind, Valdoartus would set off on his greatest expedition ever. Aldrenus, his apprentice, was to assist him in his quest.
Valdoartus, who was an accomplished Planar Thaumaturge, opened a rift between the planes and traveled to the Plane of Knowledge. They spent a great while there as Valdoartus perused the books that lined the library's shelves. Aldrenus seems to have lost track of the time spent there, for the entries are rather scattered with the dates. Eventually, however, Valdoartus found what he was looking for.
From there, the master and apprentice traveled to a place of calm, serene beauty. Rather than relax, as Aldrenus claims he begged his master to do, they trekked long and hard throughout the idyllic countryside, seeking something only Valdoartus knew of. When they came upon a large sundial, Valdoartus supposedly proclaimed that he was on the right track.
Valdoartus then proceeded to open a rift to a land of darkest night, and they trekked aimlessly among the trees. Or so it seemed, according to Aldrenus. At the point when Aldrenus was positive the trees were following them, Valdoartus looked to the distance and nodded his head. The great mage then opened another rift, urging Aldrenus quickly through.
Aldrenus writes that the plane they entered was even worse than the previous nightmarish landscape. As far as the eye could see, the land looked to be composed of pestilent flesh. All manner of maggots, flies, and rodents walked freely within this plague-ridden land. According to Aldrenus, after a long walk, the great mage reached down to cut a large chunk of the fleshy earth and placed it into a container. A moment later, he opened a planar rift once again.
They arrived back within the tranquil countryside they had left not so long ago. Aldrenus states he felt rather weak from the travels in the disease-ridden plane they had just left. Valdoartus apparently looked exasperated, claiming the discovery was so close. The apprentice convinced his master to allow him to stay behind for the last trip. At that, Valdoartus opened another rift and stepped through.
The journal from this point on is filled with a number of entries describing what Aldrenus did to fill his time. It seems the apprentice was perfectly content to stay in this serene land and was a bit annoyed that Valdoartus returned eventually. Upon Valdoartus's face was an enormous smile. The great mage then opened one last rift and they traveled home.
According to Aldrenus, when they arrived back home Valdoartus told him to fetch a book from the Sixteenth Library. Valdoartus opened the book, read it for a brief moment and said nothing more than, "I found it. It's been here the whole time." Sadly, Aldrenus failed to mention the name of the book. Instead, the remaining entries are filled with nothing more than cursing after he found out that they had been gone for forty years. The last entry is that of him quitting the next day.
Books
The Varsoon Collection, Volume 3 - The Gift of Immortality This item can be placed on the floor in any house type.
This completed book can be placed in your house and read.
This book is titled "The Varsoon Collection, Volume 3 - The Gift of Immortality". It is a complete volume that details the quest of a young mage to find the secrets of immortality.
The following compilation is a brief presentation of the legends and myths of the mage, Valdoartus Varsoon, known to many simply as Varsoon. Much work was done to separate the facts from the fiction in order to bring this work to you, the reader. The following volume highlights the events that took place after his failed bid for immortality. Please note, reader, that the source of this of this account is highly questionable indeed.
The only account we have of the time after Varsoon's quest for immortality comes from a dramatic play written by a bard, the Lyresmith, over several hundred years ago. It has taken much work to distinguish possible facts from the obviously blatant embellishments exhibited throughout the performance. Were it not for the fact that there are striking coincidences between events in the play and facts unknown to the general public, this would have been written off as an outright fantasy.
As is typical of the Lyresmith's work, the play goes on for an uncomfortable amount of time. It starts in an unnamed city and involves an old man who is an accomplished spellcaster. The character, named simply Varsoon, is involved in some type of experiment and has a number of assistants helping him. This goes on for close to an hour of the play. Eventually, Varsoon exclaims that his work is nearing completion.
Another act involves him at a wedding feast for his nephew. Varsoon is shown to be a very loving family man, performing all manner of magical feats to help fix the problems of various family members. The interesting thing to note in this act was that between each spellcasting miracle, Varsoon would take a sip from a small white cup. This cup is associated with the sigil-etched ivory cup the real Varsoon was reported to have.
One of the following acts returns Varsoon to his laboratory where he works by himself late into the night. Feverishly muttering to someone named Aldrenus (see the previous volume for more about Aldrenus), he finally completes his work as the moon rises over the horizon. He pours a number of odd liquids into the white cup, causing all sorts of odd things to happen.
Finally, when all of the liquids have been poured into the cup, Varsoon then waved a wand over the cup. The cup rose into the air and spun around (thanks to an intricate array of pulleys and wires). All of a sudden, the cup would vanish and be replaced with a small cloud of red mist. The cloud covers Varsoon from head to toe, and the scene ends with him laughing triumphantly.
A following act shows Varsoon approaching a council of mages and telling them of his accomplishment. He offers them a demonstration of his immortality by having them assault him with all manners of spells. When the spell show is over, which takes about three hours, we see Varsoon emerge from the storm of energy, still alive. He is usually missing a limb or two, an eye, and sometimes even his nose, but yet he lives. The scene ends with the council agreeing that he has found the secret of immortality.
Sometime later during the play, Varsoon is seen dictating to his nephew the secrets of immortality. As Varsoon expounds on how he wishes everyone to learn the secret, there is a knock at the door. A mob waits outside, led by some priests. They demand he give themselves over to him, and when he resists, they unleash all manner of divine terrors on him. Eventually, he is stricken with diseases and wounds that no man could withstand, yet he lives through it all and disperses the crowd.
Many hours later, the play reaches the final act. Varsoon is brought before the same council of mages from the earlier act and is put on trial for crimes against the city. He appears to be overcome by all manner of diseases and barely has the strength to defend himself. In the end, he is banished from the city and forced to live as an exile. As is typical of a Lyremsmith play, the council concludes the show by throwing jum-jum pies at each other until the audience disperses.
Much of the Lyresmith's play,"The Horrible Case of Varsoon - A Performance in Twenty-Nine Acts," has been left out of this account, for obvious reasons. It is highly debated as to what aspects of the play are truthful, but what we do know is the following : no records have mentioned the cup since the time period of the play's setting. Also, Varsoon is never mentioned again in any records of the Combine Empire. Finally, what has been proven to be an actual legal document from that era writes of the banishment of someone only named as "The Undying."
Books
The Varsoon Collection, Volume 4 - The House of Varsoon This item can be placed on the floor in any house type.
This completed book can be placed in your house and read.
This book is titled "The Varsoon Collection, Volume 4 - The House of Varsoon". It is a complete volume that details the horrors of the villainous ghoul known as Varsoon.
The following compilation is a brief presentation of the legends and myths of the mage, Valdoartus Varsoon, known to many simply as Varsoon. Much work was done to separate the facts from the fiction in order to bring this work to you, the reader. The following volume details his reappearance within the world, and the mysterious yet tragic circumstances of his demise.
Most of what we know of Varsoon comes from an account kept within the Three Towers in Qeynos. Several hundred years ago, a mage came before the Qeynos Council and wished to confess for crimes that he had committed in the name of magic. During his confession, he explained that he was a of the member of the House of Varsoon. Their leader, a mage calling himself Varsoon, claimed to be searching for immortality. The following quotes are directly from the record he gave to the Council.
"I believed in the words he said. Though we could not see his face, I knew his words were honest. I packed up my belongings and followed him to the Plains of Karana where he had built a keep to research the way to stop death."
"Soon enough, he had shown us all manner of mysteries I had never believed possible. His magic was unlike anything the Concordium had said even existed. It was easy enough for us to fall for his lies ... to do what he asked us."
"At first we started using cattle. We would cut them open and learn how to keep the insides still alive when we put the organs in the jars. We were to do this all throughout the day, looking for ways to instill unlife within the organs while using as little magic as possible."
"I found a way to do so using a variation of a healing spell, except I used a fig leaf as the consumed component. When Varsoon found out I had done so, he approached me personally. That's when I saw his face, disfigured and pockmarked. He told me to reverse the spell, but I couldn't. He then took me into his private chambers and I saw horrors that still haunt me to this day."
"Hanging from chains were the bodies of hundreds of men, women ... and even ... even children. They were all alive, faces frozen in excruciating pain. He told me that I would find out how to reverse the spell of unlife I had found. He said that in my mind I held the answers, but if I failed him I would join the rest of those living cadavers. That night, I fled the keep and came to you. Please forgive me for what I have done."
After the Council had heard the confession of this young mage, they convened for several hours. They tracked down all of the victims of the evil mage Varsoon and saw that the record spanned a period of over two hundred years. Hunting accidents, bear maulings, et cetera ... all linked back to Varsoon. They gathered several divisions of the Qeynos Guard and marched at once to the House of Varsoon, in the center of the Karanas.
When they arrived, they caught Varsoon and his minions unawares. A spell battle ensued, and the evil mage himself unleashed spells that had not been seen for ages. In the end, the forces of Qeynos were triumphant. They imprisoned all of the mages of the House, including Varsoon. When they were done, they burned the keep to the ground and returned to Qeynos.
Varsoon was put on trial for his crimes, which are too long to even be listed. A crowd of ten thousand people stood and watched as his reign of terror came to an end. At midday, Varsoon was burned at the stake and buried in an unmarked grave far out in the countryside. The people of Qeynos were finally free of all him. Or so they would think until he would return again one day and wreak his vengeance upon Qeynos during the War of Plagues.
Books
The Varsoon Collection, Volume 5 - The War of Plagues This item can be placed on the floor in any house type.
This completed book can be placed in your house and read.
This book is titled "The Varsoon Collection, Volume 5 - The War of Plagues." It is a complete volume that details the War of Plagues and the return of Varsoon.
The Following compilation is a brief presentation of the legends and myths of the mage, Valdoartus Varsoon, known to many simply as Varsoon. Much work was done to separate the facts from the fiction in order to bring this work to you, the reader. The final volume in the series, this book speculates about the rumors of his return from death.
The story of Varsoon does not end simply with his death many hundreds of years ago. During the War of Plagues, there were many reported rumors of a mysterious mage that led the Bloodsabers, a group of cultists devoted to the worship of Bertoxxulous. The cult is reported to have existed for many hundreds of years, but one day came out of hiding to lay waste to Qeynos during the time of King Antonius Bayle V.
The War of Plagues raged across the land for a number of years, with neither side gaining ground. Using tactics reserved for only the depraved, the Bloodsabers, under order of their leader, contaminated the city's water supply. Thousands of innocent people died during the war, and most of the atrocities were blamed on a mage the Bloodsabers called "The Undying."
"The Undying" was seen at the dead of their armies, raining down upon the soldiers of Qeynos all manner of blights. From locusts to oozing miasmas, the Undying was a formidable mage. It didn't take too long for some people to claim that this mage was Varsoon returned to life.
Using the fear that came with the name Varsoon, the mage began calling himself Varsoon the Undying. His demands against Qeynos were for them to hand over every second child that lived in the city. it seems there was some type of dissension among the Bloodsabers over this demand, which allowed Qeynosian soldiers to gain the upperhand. Soon enough, after a massive battle, Qeynos defeated the Bloodsabers once and for all. Unfortunately, they were never able to find Varsoon the Undying after the battle.
There are hidden records, however, that we had the privilege of reading. These records tell of a mage's body being found on the battlefield. The mage's body was covered in scar tissue from horrible burns. The cause of death was not from fire, however. He had died from nothing more than a simple arrow piercing his heart. Or so they thought, until they noticed he was still breathing.
A priest of the Temple of Life was with the party that discovered the body. being a high-ranking exarch, he knew this man was no ordinary undead soldier. The priest summoned several of his brethren to the body and began to perform a very intricate ritual over it.
After several hours, the priests had completed their spells and proceeded to burn the body of the mage until it was nothing more than ashes. Rather than letting the ashes be scattered to the four winds, they gathered them into a special container and carried them to a special crypt in the Qeynos Hills. When asked what the ceremony was all about, they explained that it is the only way to prevent a lich from returning to life.
To this day that crypt remains licked, so we have no way of confirming whether or not the lich those priests destroyed was the same Varsoon from centuries earlier. Were this the case, it would appear that Varsoon actually did achieve immortality after all. But it does not explain why the word "lich" was never attributed to him until that final account.
We thank you for reading this series. As the reader can tell, there atre not many solid facts about the real history of Varsoon. Perhaps if the House of Varsoon had not been burned to the ground so many centuries ago we might have been able to find more facts there. Whether more information comes to light in the future, the fact remains that Varsoon no longer walks among the living. Norrath has been safe from his predations for hundreds of years, so we may at least take comfort in that as we lay down to sleep at night.
Books
The Wall This item can be placed on the floor in any house type.
A competent bookbinder is a valuable resource who can restore any book that's had pages removed.
The Wall - Page 4 (plundered from an overturned cart at -769, -5, -958 in Enchanted Lands)
The Wall - Page 5 (shinies or looted in Enchanted Lands)
The Wall - Page 6 (shinies or looted in Enchanted Lands)
The Wall - Page 10 (plundered from a lantern at -951, 0, -661 in Enchanted Lands)
The Wall - Page 11 (shinies in Enchanted Lands)
The Wall - Page 12 (shinies in Enchanted Lands)
Discovered on 20 Oct 2005 at 3:29:27 PDT.
"The Wall"
Second Edition
This book tells the story of how the resourceful halflings of Rivervale constructed a mighty barrier.
Long ago, longer than could be counted by the turning of the seasons, our fellow kinsmen set out to build a barrier against the predators that lurked in the shadows.
This wall that they built would be built two more times, for even more dire reasons than before.
Sit, young one, as I tell you this tale of what people can do when they put their mind to it.
Our kinsman from time gone built this town out of love and cooperation.
Though they would all live in harmony, there were dark shadows that lurked just beyond sight. Sometimes our ancestors would lose a family member to the darkness that took the form of snarling, hungry dogs.
After much talk, our ancestors agreed that something must be done to stop this.
Gathering all of their courage, they would leave at dawn to travel beyond the tunnel leading out past the safety of their village.
By the time the sun would set, they would all return carrying bundles of rocks they had gathered.
Once they had a pile of rocks as tall as a mountain, they began to construct what would only be known as the "Wall." After much hard work, their project was done. Spamming as high as six feet into the air, the Wall would protect our ancestors from the vicious dogs that anxiously awaited an easy meal.
The Wall did much to save our ancestors from an early fate and lasted many years. Their need would become far greater as the seasons would pass.
As giant peoples began to tread outside the tunnel, our forefathers believed themselves safe, having built the Wall.
They would not foresee that the goblins would come, however. And when they did, the Wall did little to stop them from climbing into our peaceful town.
Learning from the past, our ancestors surmised that if the first Wall was enough to stop the evil dogs, then a bigger wall should be able to stop the goblins.
They knew they could no longer build with the stones, for they had fathered all they could find to construct the first Wall.
Then one day an ingenious halfling came up with another idea.
Sending forth large groups of brave and courageous men and women into the Misty Thicket, Rivervale would wait anxiously for their return in the evening.
Soon enough, much wood was harvested from the trees and brambles of the thicket. In the end, the wood would be piled high over the original Wall, doubling the height of the first version.
This would keep the goblins out for many years to come.
All was well within Rivervale for many, many seasons. Time would pass and the earth itself would grow angry.
When the rumblings subsided, our ancestors would find that they had been given a protection greater than the Wall ever could - they were separated from the rest of the world.
No longer would they need to worry about enemies coming to harm their way of life.
But little did they know that the goblins would take advantage of this situation.
For you see, just as our forefathers would prosper, so would the goblins. Not waiting for the worst to happen, our ancestors began building another Wall, this time higher than anything imagined.
This time, our ancestors began building a wall that would tower over the other Walls built in the past.
Choosing the largest of oak trees, they began to chop them down and line them up, one by one.
To this day, gaze about and you can see the fruits of their labor. The Wall spans a length never before seen, and is taller than even the greatest of giants.
But pay attention, young one. If you look at where the Wall was lined, you may wish to ask yourself, "Was the Wall meant to keep something out, or maybe to keep something in?"
Books
The Weight of the Past This item can be placed on the floor in any house type.
This is a mastery tome. Use the knowledge contained within to gain a basic understanding of the tactics to use against the chosen foe.
Slethh spent the morning basking by the light of the lavaflows. It would be an exhausting day, and he needed his energy to chase down the saliraptors he was charged with hunting. Their meat was delicious and held above all other deinodons, and with the number of hunters headed into the tunnels, he could only guess that the ceremony today would be something special indeed.
Isolate, pace, exhaust, strike...
First, Slethh's party isolated one of the saliraptors from its pack. They were dangerous enough as a single target, but saliraptors were clever, and a group of them were truly deadly. One at a time, carefully peeled off from the pack, was how this was done. Once isolated, their prey dashed off as expected and was easily tracked through the winding tunnels. It panicked and trampled through the fungus and scraped across the rock - its seemingly adamantine talons gouging great tears that the party used to gauge its progress. Though it could sprint faster than any of the Allu'thoa on this hunt, it could not maintain this speed for very long. The easy loping pace of the hunters only cost a small bit of energy, conserved their strength until the final blow was necessary. They were patient.
Slethh took two great steps, juked left, then leapt right. The saliraptor lost its footing as he followed Slethh's new vector, and slid a bit before its claws finally found purchase on the hardscabble floor of the tunnels. Slethh's foot found the wall, and his body coiled against it, nearly horizontal before he pushed off like a spring. In that moment he flew, weightless, spear held high above his head, as his warcry violently echoed down the passage.
And in that moment, after several hours of hunting, it was over. They delivered the prey back to their tribe, triumphant, glowing. The ceremony approached with great anticipation.
So many Allu'thoa gathered - those from the heart of Zavith'loa joined by those from the furthest reaches of Dshinn's lava tubes. The din was overwhelming, their numbers were legion. It was a day of glory, the day that Clotl'thoa spoke! They would hear his word! The Allu'thoa had pleased their god, and so it was said:
"Today marks the start of a new day. The day we must leave our home. We, the Allu'thoa, will follow the tunnels upwards. We, the favored of Clotl'thoa, will search until we find the light of Clotl'thoa! We will know when we see it, as it will burn as a thousand glowing charnels! It will float and illuminate all before us. We will spill out, under its light and its heat, and we will take our weapons and we will conquer all that he reveals to us! Clotl'thoa has spoken! And as he speaks we cannot be defeated! His enemies will take up arms against us, but we will cover this new land with the bodies and the blood and the cry of their failure.
The Allu'thoa will stand amongst their bones, and a new world will be ours for the taking! Praise to Clotl'thoa!"
The sound of the Allu'thoa response shook the very earth itself. Those on the surface worried that Dshinn might erupt once more. It would, but not with lava and fire, instead with spears and swords.
Several days later, Slethh shielded his eyes from the wrath of Clotl'thoa. It took several minutes before the glare abated and he could take in the view without pain. He saw a vast expanse of water and earth and greenery. Amongst the giants of this new land, he saw the tiny forms of humanoids.
And thus, the hunt was on once more.
Books
Through the Rathe Mountains This item can be placed on the floor in any house type.
This completed book can be placed in your house and read.
In this book, we follow the adventures of Gerren from his outpost on Lake Rathetear through the Rathe Mountains which have been taken by the Rallosian Army.
Gerren dressed simply. His task would require stealth and speed, for the aviaks reported bands of ogres patrolling the familiar paths through the Rathe Mountains. If Gerren were to break through their lines, he would need to blaze his own trail. And Gerren definitely needed to make his way through -- he and fellow Guardsman Ilkalla had been at the Qeynos' outpost on Lake Rathetear for several months while the Rallosian Army crept closer. Now, the Rallosians were building an enormous barge to carry them across the water.
Ilkalla pressed a dried gnoll's foot into Gerren's hand. "For luck," she said. "I don't know why, but we've always had that in our family; I want you to carry it with you on this journey." Neither of them said it, but they both knew it was true: the likelihood of his making it through was the equivalent of the aviaks and centaurs holding the Rallosians off. They did not expect to see each other again. After a quick meal, Gerren took a little-traveled way up the face of the slope along the edge of the Lake.
"I can see now why this is travelled so infrequently," Gerren muttered, pausing for a moment to catch his breath. The rocky mountain face was so steep that in some points, Gerren would need to retrace his steps to consider the options from several angles. Once, a slice of rock upon which he was perched gave way and he slid down quite a distance before being able to stop himself.
Three-quarters of the way up was a cleft in the rocks through which this path passed. The splintered boulders forming the opening folded over on the side facing the Lake, making it impossible to peer around. Gerren knew that if the Rallosians were already on the pathway beyond the rocks, he was doomed. There was no quick escape route. He unsheathed his knife and the gnoll's foot Ilkalla had given him tumbled out, bouncing off the rocks down the face of the mountain.
"There goes the lucky gnoll's foot," Gerren thought, with a smile. Somehow, the idea that the foot of dead creature could be lucky was amusing. He slipped through the cleft and found the way clear. Tension released in his neck, although he was still wary as he felt his way to another cluster of granite boulders marking another turn in the path.
Hill giants! Gerren leaned back into the boulders, blending himself into the rocks. The Rallosian Army was not the only thing in the Rathe Mountains, but hill giants were not usually found near this forlorn area. Perhaps they, too, had been displaced by the invading ogres. Gerren watched them as they milled around for several minutes before striding off down the narrow, featureless road.
Gerren waited until the sun was directly overhead before moving. There was a stretch of the passage with no easy alternative route -- not that the ways he had been travelling had been easy at all. Still, with the sun above he would cast no shadows and might be able to slip undetected across the roadway. Even covered by his superior camouflage, Gerren knew that there were things he could do to make himself even less visible to his enemies.
The roadway was clear and Gerren slipped into the shadows of another clutch of boulders. He paused there to listen for the sounds of pursuit, but there was only silence. That in itself was worrisome, as there were usually birds trilling or insects buzzing. Gerren would even welcome the wuffing sounds of the great bears. "Everything must be hiding from the Rallosians," he thought, "Perhaps I should get lower to the ground myself."
Calming himself, Gerren spent a moment recalling the spells of transformation. He remembered amusing Ilkalla on their watches by changing himself into a wolf and padding around, sniffing things. He said a quick prayer for her and the small force by Lake Rathetear, then cast his spell. Energy rippled within him and he shook himself to spread it through to the very tips of his dark fur.
Gerren set off through the rocks, keeping always to the shaded side of the paths. The club that hit him in the back of his head was so quick and brutal that he did not feel a thing as he slumped lifeless to the ground. "Found something for dinner!" yelled the troll that had killed him. The gleeful yelps greeting this cry echoed through the otherwise watchful Rathe Mountains.
Books
Tome of Order and Discord This item can be placed on the floor in your house.
A translation from the writings contained within a once lost tattered tome.
"The Tome of Order and Discord was penned by the seventh member of the Tribunal and has become the key to a life of Discord, in spite of the author's pitiful warnings."
As stated by a Priest of Discord near the year 5313.
Introduction
It is with great effort that we decipher the teachings found within the original tattered tome. The most we could gather from the writings are titles of chapters that we believe are basic rules to living a life of Discord. Much of the information has been updated with relevant terms of our age and it is done not to dilute the teachings, but to make sure we provide relevant information and allow everyone to grasp the essence of our philosophy.
Order and Chaos are everliving and permeate our body and mind. They are the true nature that fights for dominance in our daily lives. It is impossible to claim control over ourselves without first making the choice to follow one or the other. You have chosen the path of Discord. Discord will allow each of us to fully experience what it is to be a superior being over others that claim to be. Since the beginning of time Order and Chaos have moved across the minds of all living creatures. Only in Discord will we satiate the yearning in our hearts. We are the Seekers of Discord,
As a Seeker of Discord, you are now faced with more dangers than your average Order follower. You not only face the dangers of the wilderness but also of others that have embraced Discord like yourself. You may have felt relatively safe for the earlier part of your travels but that is only because it is not until your 10th season that you can appreciate Discord enough to participate. We will explain a few rules in the next chapters that will hopefully aid you in your path. We are separated into three casts: Exile, Freeport and Qeynos factions.
It is agreed upon that experienced fighters cannot engage less experienced fighters in combat. This disparity is determined by the location you are traveling and mainly how many seasons you have survived. Magical notices are given to each traveler when they enter a new area. There is a 30 second respite that will allow you to get your bearings before you are free to relish in the glory of a fight.
If you miss the notice, you will know soon enough by the auras your enemies emanate.
Red Aura means you are better off not attacking. Orange Aura means you are advised not to attack but you could get lucky. White Aura means you are the same level and should engage and learn from the battle. Blue Aura means you are very likely to win but they can be a threat. Green Aura means you are likely to win but they are also likely to get lucky. Grey Aura means you are much more willing to ignore the pest, unless they attack you first.
It is essential that you are always prepared. This not only means that you are aware of your surroundings but also of the thing closest to you, your equipment. It is often times that we witness a battle won not by the skill, but by the sheer lack of maintenance of their equipment.
Armor, poisons, potions, scrolls and weapons are all available through city merchants and traders. They are also found in treasures deep within lost ruins or under the belly of a dragon. It is your task to find the best way to upgrade the equipment you use in battle. Items are magically etched with the proper levels they can be used and will literally save your life.
Combat arts and spells are part of your equipment. The amount of practice and study you spend (literally) can also make the difference if fighting equally armored opponents. Each class has different combat arts and spells that help them define their strategies in combat. Take time to learn against lesser beings before you jump into the fray of battle.
Beneficial Combat Arts or Spells
Yellow etched will only affect the caster. Orange etched will affect a single friend in your group. Purple etched will affect everyone in your group or raid.
Offensive Combat Arts or Spells
Red etched will affect a single target. Green etched will affect all enemies in your target group. Blue etched will affect everyone around the caster up to the limits of the skill.
We do not follow our path for fame or fortune, but the weak must pay tribute and admire our deeds. Each city will honor your victories with acceptance into their elite circles. Rewards vary and can range from trinkets to titles that help distinguish you in the battlefield. You may find them offered by merchants in cities. The more experienced gain Discord tokens that they use as currency for the items they desire.
An alliance between cities has made it so that citizens of Freeport, Gorowyn and Neriak gain favor with The Lucanic Knights while citizens of Qeynos, Kelethin and Halas are favored by The Royal Antonican Guard. Exiles have chosen to forgo these accolades in favor of being able to engage anyone they deem worthy.
It is known that all things must come to an end. This also applies to each of us that embrace Discord. In the event that we suffer the unmentionable, there are also separate rules that followers of Discord must abide by. Reviving is limited to certain areas that may not be equal to those that follow Order. You are allowed a longer respite and will not be engaged until you decide you are ready again. You will not suffer the penalties of armor decay but you will suffer from the sickness the experience with death causes even the most fearless. You must make sure to refocus your energy before leaving the areas.
In the event that you have coin on your person, the chances of your losing at least half will be guaranteed. It is best that you seek a banker whenever you find yourself with enough coin that you would rather not give away. The same applies to any item that is not marked Legendary, Fabled or Mythical in quality. Although the chances are much less, it is a chance that you take. Titles are currently not lost in combat, but they can still be gained. You do lose fame if you are missing from the realm and that can lead to your title being lost if the duration is substantial.
Conclusion
It is our will to embrace Discord. The path is not for the faint of heart and the challenges will test even the strongest of us all. Let it be known that we, the Seekers of Discord, are and always will be present. It is only in Discord that you can truly find your equal, since it is we that destroy the dragons and best the avatars of the gods!
Books
Travels into a Remote Corner of Faydark This item can be placed on the floor in any house type.
This is a mastery tome. Use the knowledge contained within to gain a basic understanding of the tactics to use against the chosen foe.
Travels into a Remote Corner of Faydark by Yuille Maclemuel
I have wasted little time before to write of my travels, but my recent adventure in The Faydark forest inspired me.
I was going through Lesser Faydark on my way to the docks of Butcherblock after battling some enjoyably putrid undead within the Loping Plains, on my flying carpet. All of a sudden I was struck from the side!
I last remember plummeting through the oversized flora that fills the Lesser Faydark!
I awoke flat on my back. My head was reeling. I was disoriented and was having a hard time focusing. Worst of all, I was unable to move!
This is when I began to feel small jobbing upon my face! A bug, no doubt, asking to be crushed. My eyes then made out a small figure upon my chest standing three apples high, pushing a spear at my cheek! A bug, my cold Halasian butt, this is a brownie!
It took no time then for me to understand why I could not move. They had bound me to the ground with thousands of tiny crisscrossing threads! And this one on my chest will not stop stabbing me!
"Stop that!" I roared. The stabber flinched back enough and was forced to regain his balance. He then said something to me in his little high pitched voice. It was bold, and curt.
"I don't speak fiddly fae." I shouted, "No, wings, Butch!"
The tiny guy then yelled something back to the others that were surrounding me.
Another male came forward. "I know to speak bits your tongue. I talks for us." "Great. You do that. Tell this tiny dancer to let me go!" "He will not do." "Why not?" "You attack patrol and you done threat our village! We're doomed!" "I have not. I feel from my carpet!"
"And dead now two mens under you. You attack." "That was an accident." (Was that the odd squishiness I was feeling?) "A boo boo!" I explained.
"Ah! That for Walpole to find true or no."
The little interpreter then went over and began speaking with several others, one of which was the stabber. I then started to take in my surroundings. I began to be impressed by the nerve, intelligence and organizational abilities of the miniature people.
It was their behavior towards me and with each other that I was reading. They obviously had an organized military structure. This is not what I would have expected! It is easy to assume smaller is simpler, but these guys are on the ball!
I had always imagined them more like a gaggle of small goblins. Irritating, but not enough to hinder you. Clearly I underestimated these people. They are all clothed, and clean. They are just as advanced as any race allowed in Freeport; moreso than some!
Is that a rat head the stabber guy is wearing as a helm? How had I not noticed that before?
"You stay." The interpreter had come back. "Walpole send word to Mayor Mendeputt. He say what to do." "Contacting superiors, gotcha." To this he turned and walked back to the others.
"You need a drink?" A female brownie was walking towards me. "That would be nice," I replied. She then cast a spell which created a cloud over my head and it rained on me clear and fresh water.
"Thanks." "You are welcome," She smiled. "I like your face colors. I have been thinking of adding to my marks, too." "Oh," I feigned interest.
"You need not worry. Even if Walpole wants to kill you, he will not do it if Mayor Mendeputt does not wish it. Walpole does not do anything that will endanger his standing in the court." "You talk a lot," I pointed out. "And speak Halasian well." (I wish she hadn't.)
"Thank you! They continue to choose Carteret to translate because of how many tongues he claims to know."
She kept going. "The truth is he isn't very good at any of them! And he tells so many stories. I bet he will be found in the pub house this night telling all how he single handedly mediated a war between the barbarians and brownies!"
I respected the aggressive and suspicious males, but if the chattery and casual female was a standard for her gender, then I had even more respect for the males for putting up with such nonsense.
I was glad when the one called Walpole (the stabber) came back, and interrupted the girl's incessant yammering. Carteret was close on his heels, and began translating immediately.
"By order of great, good, big and mighty Mayor Mendeputt, brownies to cut big girl. Er, rope, cut her rope!"
Obviously, he was trying to translate for my own good. The brownies had no confusion over what their orders had been. They had already began cutting at my restraints. "Potent hunter Walpole wishes to thank on you for your behaving, and is sad for any hurt done."
"No worries kid. I am sorry about your friends though," I said, as I sat up and looked behind me to the carnage that was two flattened brownies.
"We too," he stated solemnly, as others covered the bodies with cloaks. "Mushroom top is your fabric found." "Shiny. I'll be on my way then." And with that, I retrieved my carpet and made my way to Butcherblock as I had planned.
I can see how the little guys can leave a bad taste in one's mouth. I can only warn that you take care as you travel through the Lesser Faydark. The brownies may be little, but the pain they can inflict is large!
Books
Treants This item can be placed on the floor in any house type.
This is a mastery tome. Use the knowledge contained within to gain a basic understanding of the tactics to use against the chosen foe.
"Treants," by various authors -- Being a collection of the thoughts and feelings evoked by these fascinating forest creatures.
The woodlands are filled with a mysterious beauty. Some of that beauty is due to the unseen influence of mana. Infused with mana, sentient beings known as treants are the guardians of the woods. This is their story.
"It nearly ripped my arms off." -- Griffon Barkstripper, Baubbleshire, after mistaking a drowsy treant for a willow and attempting to remove its bark to brew some tea.
Lesson: A treant's bite is worse than its bark.
"Are those...eyes?"
-- overheard in the Orcish Wastes, followed by a high-pitched scream. The Orcish Wastes are the known habitat of a darker form of treant that is preoccupied with exterminating any other being in its path. They apparently view everyone else as the cause of the decay in their lands.
Lesson: If it has eyes, it can see you.
"A single treant can breathe life into a forest."
Daryann Stormrider, wood elf of the Willow Wood. The breath of the treant may be a source of renewing the concentration of mana within a forest, although this is not proven.
Lesson: Wood elves know the woods.
"Arbos is father and mother to all trees."
-- Anonymous dryad, Oakmyst Forest. In mythology, Arbos is often cited as the tree from which all other trees sprung. Apparently, this relationship extends to the sentient treants as well.
Lesson: Even a potential enemy has parents.
"Put that out!"
-- an elderly treant to a camper lighting an improper campfire. Treants may be living beings, but they are still made of the same fibers as other trees. Generally, if you are in a deciduous forest, the treants there will appear as deciduous trees rather than coniferous trees.
Lesson: Make sure your fires are completely out before abandoning a campsite.
"It's magic!" --a Runnyeye goblin surprised by a treant, immediately before being crushed by its roots. Treants are very strong physically, however they are also well-known magic users. In some areas, magic-wielding treants outnumber other treants three to one.
Lesson: This could be magic!
"Mmm. Jumjum juice."
-- Xanuusus, a treant in the old Northern Karana Plains. As with most sentient creatures (and some that are not), jumjum is an excellent way to make friends. There is no guarantee that this will work with all treants, but it could be worth a try.
Lesson: Sometimes, it is better to give than to hoard but it may be impossible to tell when.
"Zzzzzzz..."
-- a sleeping treant in Nektulos Forest. As they age, treants tend to become less mobile. It could be the result of their sap flow slowing, making them more sleepy. Eventually, treants pause for longer and longer naps, finally losing all mobility and turning into regular trees.
Lesson: Not every great oak sprang from a normal acorn.
"Sharp axes make for small treants."
-- a Bloodskull lumberjack battling treants in the Orcish Wastes. Sadly, many treants have been turned into kindling by the orcs who continue to clear large swaths of land. While a lone orc is no match for a healthy treant, the orcs send in vast numbers of lumberjacks when they suspect a treant is living amongst the trees in their way.
Lesson: Even the oldest and strongest can be felled by strategic planning.
I hope this information provides you with enough basic information about treants that you will be able to learn more about them on your own.
Remember to walk carefully through the forests and beware of all big sticks!
Books
Welcome to Qeynos, Citizen! - 2nd Edition This item can be placed on the floor in any house type.
My citizenship is not affected if I discard this book without accepting the tasks. If I work on these tasks, I must keep this book until I finish them all. Once I complete the tasks, I will gain additional experience and a copy of this book for my home.
NO-TRADE
Offers the Quest 'Welcome to Qeynos, Citizen! - 2nd Edition'
Welcome to Qeynos! As a new citizen of our city, there are probably hundreds of questions you still wish to have answered. This book is meant to assist you in finding activities which will interest and inspire you. Naturally, such a small book cannot possibly explain all you will need to know. Let it serve as a brief guide to the richness that you will experience throughout Norrath. Your citizenship is not affected if you discard this book without accepting the tasks. If you work on these tasks, you should keep this book until you finish them all.
Collecting stones and shards can be a very rewarding hobby. You can collect items as you travel, examining them to determine whether they will be worthwhile examples to keep.
Gathering little items can be addicting as well! Be sure to look up now and again to admire the beauty of Norrath.
Once you have completed a collection, present it to Mervos Stadrin in North Qeynos. He offers rewards for your completed collections.
And should you complete an entire series of collectable items, you may receive something special for your home as well.
Gathering collectibles is not only educational and rewarding but fun as well.
The lands have changed much since the ancient days, and yet there are so many things that remain to remind us of our heritage.
No doubt you have seen some of these precious memorials preserved in some of the villages, such as the Spirit of Faydark park in the Willow Wood.
Please take a moment to remember the fallen by visiting the Claymore Plaza in North Qeynos.
There are many such places throughout the world as we are not the only folk who preserve our history.
Be cautious in your travels but do not deny yourself the pleasure of discovery, either.
Be wary and respectful of your surroundings and you will find many places throughout the lands to interest or thrill you.
Reading is a great way to learn more about the heritage of the land, the history of its inhabitants and the beliefs of those who are a part of Norrath.
Visit Sage Indis Surion in South Qeynos to purchase some of his fascinating tomes.
Though some are missing a page or two, the Sage has made notations in each volume, indicating where additional pages might be located.
The Sage sells "The Story of the Rat Queen," which is part autobiographical and part analysis of the poor woman who lives in the Vermin's Snye. It is said to be among Antonia Bayle's favorites and is an interesting read.
Additionally, one can find books scattered throughout the world that are excellent sources of information.
You can also gain new skills by completing any of the Mastery tomes available.
As you explore Norrath, you will occasionally find unusual objects.
Sometimes, they are on creatures in the wilds. Sometimes you will notice something odd in the landscape and pause to take a closer look.
In either case, let curiosity be your guide as many great discoveries have been made serendipitously.
You are encouraged to take on any investigative work with a healthy dose of caution.
While many things you encounter in the wilds may be innocuous, remember that there is a chance for mischief.
Be vigilant, for some of these items may have been planted to trap the unwary.
While Qeynos is now your home, you will likely travel beyond the city limits many times in your life.
As you travel, you will doubtless encounter folks who are trying to rebuild their lives as well as those whose needs are more commercial.
These goals are not mutually exclusive, as strong enterprise can mean work for the displaced.
Please feel free to assist representatives of the Far Seas Trading Company as they are a large local employer.
Qeynos is proud of its diversity. Our reasons to move here are varied, but we must never forget our heritage.
Rumors surface that items important to the history of Norrath are found throughout the world.
You could always check with Hwal Rucksif inside the Keep of the Ardent Needle in Antonica for updates as he seems to get a fair amount of foot traffic.
Training in your chosen life's path enables you to help others to the best of your abilities by giving you a focus.
One way to focus your studies is to become familiar with some of the organizations that make Qeynos great. You will find representatives of the Concordium in South Qeynos at the Mage Tower. The Tunarian Alliance is based in the Elddar Grove. Look for the Celestial Watch in North Qeynos. And while the Qeynos Guard is everywhere, you will meet some of its leaders in North Qeynos on the steps to the castle.
You'll also find the Ironforge Exchange in North Qeynos, home to many fine crafters.
Though we have come through some dark times, we cannot dwell upon the past.
In the Age of Destiny, every day is a gift and how we use that gift determines our personal destiny.
Compassion, honor, and loyalty are ever the standard by which we should love our lives, no matter what challenges may come.
Books
Windsisters' Song This item can be placed on the floor in any house type.
This is a mastery tome. Use the knowledge contained within to gain a basic understanding of the tactics to use against the chosen foe.
A local Dervin legend that tells how the Windsister harpies came to exist.
In the long ago, when the djinn first came to the desert, there lived a band of sister-warriors whose leader was a beautiful and headstrong woman named Hadil.
She had long black hair that fanned out in the wind behind her when she raced across the desert astride her horse.
No one could catch Hadil in a race, until Makkar.
Makkar was of the djinn and he challenged Hadil to a race. Being djinn, with the power of the sky at his command, he easily defeated her.
And with the aura of his triumph around him, Hadil looked upon him and fell instantly and deeply in love.
Makkar returned her feelings, as she was a great warrior and he valued her strength.
As time passed, more djinn arrived from their distant Plane. They brought with them many objects which they considered trinkets, but which were of considerable value in the desert.
"Where do these come from?" asked Hadil as Makkar draped her in brightly colored robes of a fabric finer than silk.
"They are from my home," he said.
To please Hadil, Makkar took on the form of a Dervin. He rode beside her into battles, admiring her prowess.
Though Makkar could destroy any enemy at hand, Hadil preferred to follow the ways of her tribe.
They raised clouds of choking dust with their horses' hooves, encircling their enemies.
When the enemies were blinded and gathered together so tightly that they could not fight back, Hadil's tribe would circle them again and again, slicing them through with their scimitars until their enemies lay in a heap.
Lesser folks would scavenge the bodies; Hadil would laugh and ride away, her hair flowing in the wind.
Hadil dressed in the finest robes with Makkar' scimitar hung from her belt. Draped around her slender throat were strings of pearls and diamonds. A ring carved from a piece of lavender jade graced her hand.
And still, Hadil demanded more from Makkar.
"You love not me, but that which I give to you," he said one night. Hadil tossed her head.
"You please me," she replied, her voice as soft as silk. "How can I help but love you when you bestow all that is yours upon me?"
Makkar said nothing, but he rode off into the night and stayed away for several days.
When he returned he brought to Hadil a small sandalwood box. In the box, nestled in silk scarves, were two crystal vials.
"Hadil, I am sorry for doubting your love for me," Makkar said, presenting her with the box. "I have asked our Master to prepare the most precious gifts for you, but know that you may only choose one."
"One? But there are two vials," Hadil said, running her fingertips over each of them in turn.
One was blue and the other red.
"The blue vial contains a potion which will ensure that you are always as beautiful on the outside as you are within," Makkar said. "The potion in the red vial will give you endless wealth."
He bowed his head and added, "Choose wisely, Hadil, for your selection will affect you and your sisters."
Hadil hesitated a moment, then made a decision.
"I choose both!" Hadil cried greedily, removing the stopper of both vials and consuming their contents.
She laughed, but her throat felt scratched and her voice had become hoarse. "You have poisoned me," she screeched.
"You have poisoned yourself," Makkar said in disgust. He returned to his djinn form and vanished.
Hadil clutched her throat, but to her horror her slender hand had grown claws.
She ran from her tent. Wings stretched from her shoulders, catching in the doorway. She screamed when she saw that her sisters had all transformed as well.
And so the harpies are as beautiful outside as they are within and they have endless wealth from the bodies of those they scavenge.
Books
Words to Remember - by Mother Deasie This item can be placed on the floor in any house type.
This completed book can be placed in your house and read.
This book is titled "More Words to Remember - by Mother Deasie". It is a collection of proverbs told by the halflings long ago.
Cooperation is the flower of philanthropy. The love of evil is the root of all money.
When forced to make a choice between a greater evil and a lesser evil, choose to look for the greater good instead.
Always count the cost, for if you don't, you may wind up paying more than you expected.
Sometimes is it better to wait for the rain to stop before bailing the water out of your boat. Just always make sure you're close to shore.
Don't throw away the old bucket until you know whether the new one holds water.
Beware of all things that require a new set of clothes. When you change a person's clothes, you've changed what the person appears to be.
You can tell more about a person by what he says about others than you can by what others say about him.
To understand your parents' love you must raise children yourself. That's when you'll finally know.
You can only learn to love something once you understand it. It's easy enough to look at a rose and comment on how pretty it is, but it takes a true heart to say the same about a troll.
Before you can go adventuring on a grand and noble quest to find the solution, you should first seek out the problem.
Books
Writings of the Deepwater Knights This item can be placed on the floor in any house type.
This tome bears the symbols of the Deepwater Knights on its cover, but it also predominantly displays a three lined mark, very similar to the rune belonging to the shissar prophecy.
The blessings of Prexus are many. We are given the waters of the sea to carry our ships so that we might travel across the world. We are given the fish that live within the oceans to feed us. We are given his divine strength, which guides and protects us. And we were given the order of the Deepwater Knights, which serves to defend and protect the city of Erudin, and the knowledge it contains.
Many in Erudin value knowledge over faith, believing their strength lies in their studies. Study is good. It challenges you, brings you to discovery and insight. But what are these things without the blessing of Prexus to guide you in their use? Do you not teach the student to use his spells effectively? Do you not teach the trainee to handle his sword correctly? Without guidance, even the simplest of spells can become dangerous. Prexus offers us guidance in all things. We can learn to use our knowledge more effectively, and become not like the student, but like the master. This guidance is one of his many blessings to us.
But it is not only to us that Prexus gives blessings. There are others creatures that he showers with his grace. From the most humble of fish in the sea, to the largest of sea beasts, Prexus watches them all. There are times when he will choose such a creature to act as his Chosen in Norrath. This creature is granted power, and is whispered to directly from Prexus himself. As we do the will of Prexus, so does the creature, although only it knows what tasks it is commanded to do.
The word of Prexus is everywhere in Norrath. The seas touches all lands, and thus, so does the domain of Prexus. As in the case of Velious, where the Deepwater Knights have no temples, yet Prexus has power there. The blessed creature among the icy waters of Velious would await his commands, As the Chosen of Prexus, unto its own death. Thus a new Chosen would be selected, and the cycle would begin again. Hail to Prexus and the gifts he gives to us all.
Books
Zapho's Celestial Guide to the Stars This item can be placed on the floor in any house type.
"Zapho's Celestial Guide to the Stars" by Zapho the Ancient of Ak'Anon.
A guide to quaintly named random clusters of stars seen in the night sky.
Of course they're in the night sky; you couldn't see them during the day! -- Zapho the Ancient
Sprocketsnik's Tinkering is the name for a grouping of several stars that represent the Tinkerer before an anvil.
A well-known tinkerer in his day, Sprocketsnik's workshop was occasionally engulfed in flames due to the speed at which he worked.
Sparks surround his figure in the constellation, obscuring it on all but the clearest of nights.
A family of gnomes named Gizmo were dedicated to building a better sailing device.
Their efforts pleased Brell Serilis so much that he had them turned into the Glittering Gizmos constellation when the first Wind-o-Matic exploded during testing, scattering their remains.
Before measurements were standardized, folks used the Star of Ak'Anon to indicate levels of brightness.
"That's a ten Star" meant an object was ten times as bright as the Star of Ak'Anon on a clear night.
One of several star clusters named for creatures, the Minotaur's Horn resembles its namesake, with a bright star marking its tip, while lesser celestial lights outline its triangular shape.
Late in the season, the horn is seen facing toward the east with its widest area facing toward the ground. If this is seen prior to the harvest, it indicates fields of plenty. When this occurs after harvest has begun, there is a chance for famine.
Though some remember Meldrath the Malignant for his minotaurs, he was also keen on building racing ships that could pierce through any hull.
One of his ships is represented amongst the stars as Meldrath's Fury, a bright cluster of stars grouped in a circle, trailed by a plume of faint scattered stars.
The Cog of Cobbleknob represents the strongest cog in the sky, one spoke for every direction.
Some say it represents the eye of Brell, watching over the gnomes, fringed by shimmering eyelashes.
Others say that the Cobbleknob family paid dearly for the opportunity to have this constellation named for them.
The constellation Clockword MX is generally low in the night sky no matter what the season.
Look for twin lights at the center of a spiral of eight appendages, each marked by three progressively fainter stars.
Some of the MX's stars are part of other constellations, making this one truly difficult to locate.
Gribletobs greatest invention, the Magnificent Gadget, was said to be called the "Malfunctioning Gadget" as the center cog was always having trouble, but the four along the edge never wavered.
Look for a single star in a dark field, surrounded by its faithful and unwavering companions.
Books
Zatirre's First Zombie This item can be placed on the floor in any house type.
This is a mastery tome. Use the knowledge contained within to gain a basic understanding of the tactics to use against the chosen foe.
"Zatirre's First Zombie" by Zatirre, Lord of the Zombies -- Taken from the memoirs of a necromancer who traveled through the Commonlands to demonstrate his zombie creation process.
Zombies are reanimated dead creatures. After death, anything can be turned into a zombie. What follows is the tale of a necromancer's experiment.
They said it could not be done, this raising of the dead to do the work of the living. They said it was folly to attempt such a thing.
Yet I, Zatirre, have done just such a thing and have lived to tell the tale. Be forewarned -- this is not the tale with which to put the children to sleep!
Animating the dead requires much concentration, luck and intelligence. Fortunately, I am blessed with an abundance of these virtues for I am Zatirre!
After studying remnants of the Arcane, I learned that I could reanimate any corpse and not only bring it to life, but command it to do my bidding!
Yes, I am thinking, this is perfect, for a being that I raise from the dead will surely appreciate me more than the ungrateful living.
I waited breathlessly for the perfect night. My thoughts were focused on the corpse of a young ratonga that had been dead barely seven days. Thus, it would be less rotted than other corpses. And being that of a small creature, even more likely to bend to the will of Zatirre! From the morning of the preceeding day, I began preparing my spell.
The perfect night came, clear and calm. Except for the call of the hyenas, it was quiet. Yes, a perfect night, chosen by Zatirre! As I stood over the ratonga's grave, I could see its earth churning slightly, then crumbling apart as my ratonga zombie's arms broke through.
Within minutes, the zombie stood before me. Yes, the fur was matted from being buried, but it was alive again, thanks to my efforts.
"I am your master," I said to it. "I am Zatirre, Lord of the Zombies!"
It raised its black-furred face toward me. I could see the hollowness of its gaze, the lack of any conscious thought in its mind. Yet, it seemed to consider my words and ponder their meaning.
"Speak!" I commanded, causing the zombie to shudder violently. I stepped backward -- could I have waited too long to recall this one? Had I, Zatirre, inconceivably made a mistake?
And then -- it spoke! Its jaws worked back and forth. I could hear the ligaments in its neck and jaw breaking apart as the creature opened its mouth -- a mouth that had been closed shut by the stiffness of death for seven full days!
Dust poured fourth from its slightly parted lips as it struggled to form words.
"I am..." said the zombie in a thin, reedy voice, "...hungry."
It spoke! Yes, the zombie brought forth from the dead spoke and I, Zatirre, exulted! I stood beside the opened grave and danced, praising aloud my skill.
I turned to the zombie, that seemed fascinated by the cakes of dirt hanging from its dull fur and taking it by its shoulders, rotated it this way and that.
My specimen was complete, if filthy.
And then, something I had not anticipated happened. Yes, even I, Zatirre, had not foreseen this circumstance.
The zombie held its hand out before it, turning it this way and that, holding it up before its face. Tilting its head quizzically to the side, it spoke yet again.
"I am hungry," it said, and then it took a very hearty bite of its own arm!
As I stared in amazement, I could hear its teeth cracking within its skull. It frowned, causing its fur to stretch across its forehead, before bursting open to expose a glint of bone.
The zombie turned to me and a vague recognition filled its dull eyes.
"I'm hungry," it said through its broken teeth and slack-skinned mouth, reaching out a stiff and dirty hand toward me.
I felt its fingers close in upon my arm, piercing the flesh with an unguessed strength.
Quickly, I evoked another spell and cast it hastily upon the zombie, which fell to the ground in a heap of lifeless fur and bone.
My escape was narrow but my experience broadened. I, Zatirre, set this in writing to enlighten others of the way of the zombie.
Books
Zek Creature Catalog This item can be placed on the floor in any house type.
As I catalog various flora and fauna, I can refer to this book.
While many areas experienced changes during the Rending, the changes brought to the Jaggedpine Forest are devastating in that they are not due to the cataclysms that reshaped Norrath.
Rather, orcs staked their claim to the region and named in Zek. We call it the Orcish Wastes.
Zek lies to the north of Karan across the Coldwind Coast and over the Sea of Crossed Swords.
Not a large land mass, it is relatively close to the Antonican shores although the waters between them are deep and treacherous.
The barren slopes of Zek do not provide much in the way of a windbreak, therefore even a gentle breeze can turn into a hearty windstorm as it channels through the hills.
Due to the lack of significant shade, the surface reflects back sunlight and keeps the region warm. The mines are much cooler as they are deep beneath the surface.
The Deathfist orcs have cleared most of the area, leaving only stumps and deadwood as indication that the Jaggedpine Forest ever existed.
While pockets of trees remain, many of them are thin and scraggly. Grass grows in some areas, but is often trampled and flattened. There are no known flowering plants in the realm.
As the guards stationed at this outpost claim, you cannot throw a copper without hitting an orc. They are not the only creatures which make traveling through Zek a hazardous journey, though. One must also keep an eye out for the various lions and the treants. The latter do not hesitate to attack first and questions later.
Books
Zeke Two Tone's Diary This item can be placed on the floor in any house type.
The pages are torn and difficult to decipher, but this appears to be Zeke Two Tone's diary. Reading it might help Zeke get back his memory.
Day 28 - I have circled all of Norrath it seems, trying to find what happened to the Two Tone family.
Am I really the last Two Tone? My forebears came from Nektulos Forest, but there is no one there now who remembers us.
Day 36 - Perhaps I should not have taken passage aboard that creaky freighter after all. It went aground in waters so still I could see my own reflection!
There were few other survivors, the ship sank so quickly. Fortunately I had this journal in my pocket. My harp is damaged, but at least I have it as well.
Day 59 - Cannot find water. The shimmering spring I straggled to with the others is poison. Must find shelter.
They came at night and took some of the men but I hid from them. What foul purpose these creatures may have, I do not know. I do not know.
Day 108 - My companions and I were rescued by the djinn, who brought us to their shining city in the sky!
And yet, my heart fills with foreboding. I lacked nothing, until I asked for my harp. The response was dreadful. They separated me from the others.
I am lost, in these dark caverns that hang beneath the beautiful citadel of the djinn. Are all things of beauty so corrupt? Someone comes.
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Frogloks
Shard of Love
Plague
Griffon Towers
Return of the Gods
Spires
Kunark Rising
A Prophet Returns
Shard of Hate
Gathering Tempest (Void Storms Chapter 1)
Storm Break (Void Storms Chapter 2)
Breaking Ground (Void Storms Chapter 3)
Raising the Banner (Void Storms Chapter 4)
Void Storms
Quellithulian Spires
Attack on the Crowns
Halas Reborn
Druid Rings
Destiny of Velious Prelude
Velious Transportation Event
Beastlord Prelude
A Goddess Risen
Malicious Threat
Panda, Panda, Panda! (Days of Summer)
Against the Elements
Mythic Passage
Dragon Attack!
Haven Bound
Beyond the Shattered Sea
Secrets of the Sands
Fractured Skies
Year of Darkpaw
Healers' Touch
Frostfell: 
Erollisi Day: 
Brewday: 
Chronoportals: 
Beast'r Eggstravaganza: 
Bristlebane Day: 
Oceansfull Festival: 
Scorched Sky Celebration: 
Summer Fireworks Festival: 
Tinkerfest: 
Nights of the Dead: 
Heroes' Festival: 
Gorowyn City Festival: 
Kelethin City Festival: 
Neriak City Festival: 
Qeynos City Festival: 
Freeport City Festival: 
New Halas City Festival: 
Moonlight Enchantments: 
1st Lieutenant Danarg, 291 AS
a charred book
A Dwarf's Guide to Surviving a Minotaur Attack.
A History of the Centaur
a Thexian log book
An Agenda to Carry Out
Assistant Researcher's Notes, Vol. 1, Halls of Erudin
Atrebe's Sniveling Children
Book of Trials
Bootstrutter's Trail Guide to the Desert of Ro
Clockwork Chirurgeon User Manual
Collapse
Day log of R.F.
Deep Marshes
Djinn Scriptorium Papers
Elements of Devotion
Flesh Bound Tome
Leatherfoot Tales: The Houndslayer, Part One
Out of Necessity
The Archtome of Haoaera
The Case of the Lost Lute
