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Fiercely Anochronistic
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« on: August 27, 2009, 02:33:43 PM »

A Broken World


F.A.Q:
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  Introduction  

Overview


Title: World Break  

System: Not system specific as of yet.

Themes:

Tone: Epic, Archaic, cynical. admittedly inconsistent, as this was written over a lengthy period of time.

Influences: A lifelong love of history,myth,cultures and civilizations. Anything from Guns,Germs, and Steel by Jared Diamond to the life-works of Joseph Campbell to the chinese classic Romance of the Three Kingdoms to the Arabian Nights. Fantasy novels include Tolkiens works, The Wheel of Time, and The Bartimaeus Trilogy(specifically the idea of Falkiri, ) The concept of Hathor Worldbreaker was influenced by Hercules and Conan as well as the warlords of feudal Japan. I transferred the idea of the Songhenneti from a project I had previously worked on over at the Cartographers Guild (the cooperative worldbuilding project ,see  
this thread at the CBG) Dwarven civilization draws on roman and babylonian influence and their gods on the myths of assirian,sumerian gods as well as a dash of cthuulu for good measure.

Technology: Varies. If I had to give it an overall level-I would say Imperial Rome.

Religion: Heavy.

Magic: While magic has not directly affected technology, it has helped shaped the current state of the world.

Races: Man dominates the majority of the setting. There are several homebrew races as well as variations on typical fantasy races.

Cosmology/Planes: Unknown to all but a select few in the setting. As of yet not fleshed out, although there is a realm for the gods, a realm for the dead etc.

Geography: A single sea in the middle of the realm, only three major cities in the world. Basically a points-of-light setting.

Points of Interest:

Links: [relevant links]

Quick Description: Mostly fluff, this campaign setting was built in mind for PCs to really affect the world around them. It is a place on the brink of going in one direction or the other. Heavy themes of light/dark, moral/immoral etc. There are many opposing factions and interests in the setting , and a plethora of small-scale adventure paths that can be woven into a broader story-arc. I have tried to provide a vague view of history for DM's to elaborate on, and do with as they wish, in order to facilitate character depth. Also I have attempted to give depth to influential peoples,gods, and creatures in order to organically create the setting. Starting with the gods division on how the world should be shaped, to the curiosity of Falkiri in Hathors age. Hopefully it has a positive effect on the setting. Criticism would be greatly appreciated.

Rated: -R- (just to be safe, hell they let so much slip in media these days who knows?)

Overview,or, why the world is the way it is.


The world was in a sad state of affairs and the creation was not even completed yet. The gods had set out to create a 'perfect world', and as omnipotent-otherworldy beings tend to do, were divided on how to proceed. The argument will remain obscure, evidently lost in the mists of history and the mysterium of the gods. But I digress.

It went like this:The gods had a ball of primordial clay, and as it was rolled out and shaped with their mighty Falkiri,(avatars per say) and a few races had sprouted from the ooze, the gods dropped everything and had a good old slugfest. The Falkiri were slightly confused and continued shaping the world for a bit, but soon joined the fray, choosing sides and joining the battle. After the proverbial dust had settled and a victor emerged, the losers were imprisoned in the newly created mess of a world. These gods known as the Ousted appear later in the narration.

Time passed and the gods grew weary of salvaging the world. The races of elve and dwarve soon established themselves as mighty civilizations. But they too were flawed as the creators. The elves isolated themselves to the endless deserts encircling the realm, and the dwarves were consumed by the whisperings of the Ousted, and vanished as a new, fledgling race emerged.Mankind began as nomads, following herds of buffalo and foraging and gathering for survival.

They were happy in this existence and several hundred years passed before they were even noticed by the Falkiri. Who, tragically, despite their great service to the gods were left in the realm. The Falkiri were commonplace in that lost era, and they walked the earth and conversed freely with all manner of creature in a curious and scholarly way. They found mankind especially fascinating, becoming hypnotized by treachery and greed and anger and some good virtues as well.

 Man found them equally fascinating and followed them religiously. They showed men how to settle, and shape the world (much as the Falkiri did for the gods) to suit their needs. They built cities and roads and villages and all the things that make a civilization stand the test of time, and mankind came into his own. There were many famous Falkiri that did many wondrous things, but the most famous and influential, and the one that concerns us here, is Nokk'al'ath'Haza, (in elvish, Nokk of the (clan)Hathor).

Nokk became synonamous with the Hathors clan, and became a symbol of his power. There were wars and alliances in that time, but soon Nokk guided Hathor and his clan to absolute power, and the kingdom prospered under their watchful eye. Together they built Carrodwyne along the shores of the great center sea, a fantastical city rich in culture and technology. And life was good. For a time.

 But soon Nokk's eye drifted to the enigmatic Queen Sybilla, Hathors beloved wife.

 Hathor had eleven sons with Sybilla, and for eleven years the civilization flourished. But soon Nokk and Hathor disagreed on somthing yet again lost to history. And war between man and Falkiri soon erupted. Hathor gathered his warriors and Nokk his fellow Falkiri. Magic spun the city into a spiral of darkness and death. Wild magics from falling men and Falkiri alike ripped the air, and wrecked havok on the land.

 Strange creations, side effects of the war, materialized as the battle drew to a close. And in later ages, they would become the Stricken, but that story must wait.

The gods, thought to have abandoned this young world suddenly returned. They turned the tide for the Falkiri, and Hathor was struck down and his mighty empire, his world, was shattered.
 
Time passes.

The dust settles.

  




Note: Fate of the Hathor Clan

The gods punished the Hathor clan in this way: They were re-shaped into races and peoples that were to inhabit the land after the world breaking. These are not myths. The race of Tetra is one son, living countless lives, forever reborn in an endless cycle. Another, the Songhenneti, damned forever to guard the Torn Lands, the site of Carrodwyne, and feast on the flesh and blood of men. The Oracle is still another. But these are things not known to the common man in this world. Just a bit of fluff to help spark the imagination.





<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<< Index >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

  

 
 


 

 




  This dice roll has been tampered with!
Original Thread: Notebook
8/25
-Began the 'Inhabitants' section
-Dwarves re-worked to become the Tetra
-Arabian influences implemented into the True Elves, decided that they are desert dwellers.
-Tetra society worked out
8/26
-dwarves now an extinct race.
-kaldyre fleshed out.
-added draj-ojin to the glossary
-alluded to a new 'dark' pantheon of lizardlike gods revered by dwarves
-updated influences, specifically dwarven civ.
-Myths updated
8/27
-First post
8/28
-minor editing
8/30
-added the Guild in 'Factions'
-new 'travellor' tale, regarding the swamps and elves
-F.A.Q. posted
-minor editing, mostly nit-picking
-changed 'Mon Ulduar' to 'Mon Ulda'
9/3
-added 'black scarves' in 'Factions'
-added a bit about elves
-re-worked the Gladyrian Senate
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« Last Edit: December 14, 2011, 08:35:29 AM by Sarisa » Logged


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« Reply #1 on: August 27, 2009, 02:33:58 PM »

Places

Note

I have linked to images in the article heading for each location that I hope will invoke the proper feeling. If I'm not mistaken I can link to images under copyright without fear of getting the pants sued off of me.


  Gladyre
 Known as the 'last' city of all things civil, Gladyre is nestled snuggly in the lazy rolling lowlands of the unsullied northern coast of the Center Sea. The city lies at the cusp of civilization, a great shining spear-head into the wild unknown wilderness that lies to the west. As such the city is surrounded by a series of bastions and low-walls, manned by militia and the professional army of Gladyre. The west is the territory of the more organized Stricken, broken into tribes that pillage and sack the few villages on the outskirts of the city. But men are eager to claim land in the hopes of finding lost treasure and glory. Gladyre is plagued by noble adventurers that embark from the city into the wild west. Only a handful return, but always with incredible treasures, ornamental weapons and gold lined treasure chests filled with silver and gems and that most invaluable kind of treasure-stories. It is a perpetual cycle of expeditions, and Gladyre has always taken a portion of these looted goods as taxes, making it a wealthy city-state.

  The coastline there is a shear vertical cliff, dropping several hundred feet into the crashing frothy sea below, but the port of Gladyre is one of a few natural harbors bored into the rock. The harbor is dug into the cliff, and several centuries of work have created the vast network of tunnels, elevators and passages that make up this formidable harbor. Atop this network sits the city itself with its low stone walls and shining towers.

The city is known for its Senate, the only of its kind in the realm. The senate is a council of eleven men and woman who have taken a vow of honor to the people of Gladyre. The prospective candidates are elected from each of the eleven districts at the age of 15. Nine students are elected from each district, plus one more as a popular vote from any of the districts.
The elected are not yet Senators, but elected to the college. So nine from each district(9x11=99)+1 (popular vote)=100 total per class. Classes are in succession, (like highschool, fresh,sophemore,junior,senior,) with the addition of another (post-senior) this is the really nitty-gritty class, actually working and talking with the Senators.

Then they undergo five years of intense schooling at the Academia Senatus, the pride of Gladyre. The drop-out rate is very high, which is never shameful for the student, his family or friends, as it is designed to be rigorous, preparing them for the heavy work of the Senate. It boasts the longest continued records in the realm as well as the largest (known) library of scrolls, tablets, records and books.

   Each of the Senators have given up the right to own property other than the traditional quarters of the Senators. But they are provided for, albeit meagerly as a senator should. As they say in Gladyre-"A senator ought not to have the time in the day to lavish themselves in luxury." It is true. The average lifespan of a senator is a mere thirty-nine years due to exhaustion, overworking and stress. But every year the Academia Senatus' halls are filled with hopeful students. Only eleven will graduate to the Senate, the other students posted at various other government positions. The Senate is designed to be able to function at less than half of its 'Senators', who have their own cabinets of assistants and viziers. These cabinet members in turn have their own 'pyramid' of cabinet members.

 The Senate meets in a great courtyard, surrounded by a four story villa, which houses the senators and their families. An honor guard of thirty also live in this 'court' of Gladyre, and the Senate has absolute control over the fate of the city.

 But the Senate adheres to one person. The Oracle of the Rocks. The Rocks can be seen from anywhere in the city, hovering only a quarter mile out to sea , Eleven inexplicable stationary wedge-shaped rocks that float meditativly above the sea, which are notably the same number of Senators.(this goes back to ancient times, when a precursor to Gladyre worshipped the Oracle) They have been their since the Breaking, and a strange blue-green aura permeates the vicinity. It is considered a safe-haven from foul and evil things, and on the largest rock-isle lies the compound of the Oracle. A simple wooden fence is all that protects the structure, which is open to the elements, a low tile and wood roof, supported by thick wooden beams. Outside the compound is a literal paradise. Full vegetation and a multitude of animals inhabit this rock. (The other ten are bare except for a thick carpeting of sea-moss and lichen)

The Oracle is listened to carefully in an impressive ceremony involving the Senators. The Oracle gives his/her advice on the months affairs and then the Senators go back to work. There are festivals and what-not that mark this occasion(more)

  The Oracle mythos surrounds the tenth son of Hathor. Namely that he or she is the reincarnated son. When the Old Oracle passes (unfailably from old age), eleven years pass before the new one miraculously appears at the Senate in the form of an eleven-year old girl or boy. The child appears at the court and simply asks to be taken home again. It is unknown where the child actually comes from, as the guards of the gates can attest to no outside entry on the day the child arrives.
 
   
 
 

The Traveller


..unlike anything I had ever seen. Seven bridges spanned the river dividing the merchant quarter with the residential quarter. Ornately carved in white stone, which I guessed was marble, and found out much later was something called ivory, made from the tusks of felled Stricken. I crossed one such bridge, paved stone ten men wide, which was crowded with the days business-doers. I had grown accustomed to venturing into cities, but this one was truly impressive. I found the crowds stiffling and worked my way to the rail-guard along the fantastic bridge. The waters 'neath moved lazily, caressing the over-laden merchant boats downstream and upstream to varying destinations. I moved on at the behest of an angry round-faced woman with two chickens tucked tightly 'neath her enormous arms.
 
"Get on with it you 'ogling fool. Damn travellors. Bet your a rhyme-man. Move it skinny!," she said with a shove and a muffled cluck from her chicken.
 
 The market was infinitely more impressive. Vendors crammed the quarter mile strip of land, that was surrounded with the legendary money-houses of the Midirian traders. Some were nearly four stories high and elaborately adorned with tapestries and  curtains that would have cost my meager village ten generations of savings. I learned from a porter that the tapestries depicted the trader-houses coat of arms:

 "Most of the families despise one another, always cuttin' throats and prices in the same breath. The tapestries? Sort of like the royalty have, you know? Coats of arms to distinguis the family. They wear cloaks and what not depicting each houses' standard. They're all very proud of it you see. Oh, sure they can tell you they're descended from this king or that, but when it comes down to it nobody really knows. Fires plague this great city, and burn up all the records you know. Honestly, I'm certain most of those fires aren't entirely an accident, you got me?"
 
 He clapped a hand on my back and scurried off before I could ask his name. Later, at the River Roarin' Inn, I checked my satchel and found three gold pieces, a bit of cheese, and a flask of Gladyrian Wine missing. I had to admit the bastards skill was impressive, and fell asleep wondering how I was going to pay for my room.


Midire The Midirians have a saying, and they'll sell it to you for a gold coin or two. The city is one of travellors, merchants, and politics. And all the little nuisances that go along with it. Thieves plague the markets despite the ever-watchful eye of the Midire Free Guards. A militia with mythic roots in the terrible wars that plagued mankind soon after the Worldbreaking. Crooked trading-houses double deal and conspire to dominate the Royal House, a failing dynasty that is steeped in out-dated tradition and custom. Despite this, the Royal House remains the oldest-unbroken line since Hathors Empire. The trading families keep the dynasty intact, knowing they are easily manipulated and coerced into favoring one trade-house over another. The Free Guards are well aware of the political situation, and the veteran captain of the guard, Dalathan Arkille has made it his personal life-mission to protect the city. Dalathan and his Free Guard are a constant thorn in the mighty trade-houses backside.


Note: Rhyme-master

A rhyme master is the travelling troubador of the civilized lands. They generally make circuits of only a handful of cities and villages, often carrying important news, as well as song and story to the people. In the past they have acted as spies or dis-informationists in times of war and civil strife, making them a horrible reputation for generations of rhyme-masters to come.


 

The Travellor

The road twisted and puked out into the chilly scrubland that surrounded the city of Kaldyre, the ageless hills dropping away swiftly. It had taken three days to make the pass of Palena, and I had met only one other travelor along the way. He said his name was Othain, a peasant from Kaldyre. I feigned agreement with a nod. Although the man wore clothes much too lavish for a farmhand, I could not blame him for his cautious disposition up in the ranges. We exchanged a few trinkets and I found the man a cheerful sort, but when I asked him of my destination, his home city, Kaldyre, he avoided the question like the Stricken and hurried on his way.

   This only confirmed my preconceived notions of Kaldyrians and their legendary mistrust of all outlanders. Still, I found comfort in breaking from the treacherous Palena Mountain range, where men vanished without a trace and rogueish things creeped in the dark.But the scrubland was another sort of agony. The land disguised many gulches and ravines that were like gaping maws of giants, deadly and sudden. The road veered sharply at the cusp of one and I had to rein in my faithful horse to avoid calamity. I looked for the city on the horizon and suddenly realized it had vanished. I turned about in all directions. Miles of withered grass and bushes, even the Palenas had vanished from sight.
 
   Then I remembered Gollad the rhyme-master back in Gladyre had told me of the old Kaldyrian trick. He had said they positioned the roads in such a way as to mislead any outsiders, disorientating them, and with luck getting them lost in the open stretch of land before their mighty walled city.
 
  "Indeed, my boy those god-sottin Kaldyians or Kladlyians or whatever the Stricken you call'em are a mistrustful bunch. 'specially since the guild went and condemned their king. God-bleed'em. They are'nt the sort for trading tales or trinkets or whatever else your after. They worked somthing out years ago with the earth dwellin' folk, built them a mighty web of confusin' roads, just right for a god-sottin git like yourself to get lost on. Got lost myself on that cursed highway, found my way back by the Worl'Breaker, else you would'nt be chatting away with me right now. Might as well head down to the lakes and make conversation with those life-lovin' roamer folk, the uh.. whatcha call'em. Ah hell buy us another round and I'll tell you about the elvish diplomat who lost his hat."

 He had always been a sobering man. Still I had often visited the lake people and their impossible raft cities, and that spring had decided to venture east, in search of new stories to gather, in the vague hope of one day joining the ranks of the rhyme-masters. It was near sunset and my mare pulled the bit irratably. The gulch was bottomless and ...


Kaldyre The Kaldyrians are a reclusive ilk, taking a que from the True Elves in that they cut themselves off from the rest of the realm. This attitude of closedness is ancient and has become sort of a popular legend among the outside peoples.

 Located in the easily-defended highlands of the Palenas, Kaldyre is a fortress built by the now extinct race, dwarves. The land surrounding the city is pock-marked with hundreds-feet deep gorges and ravines, and a myriad of trails and highways, purposely built in a confusing manner. The city has little farmland outside its walls, and as such has the lowest population per square foot in the realm. The inhabitants are mostly sheepherders and miners. What little trade the city has is strictly with the Lake people, to the south, exchanging the endless supply of metals found in the mountains for food, timber, cloth, and only a smattering of luxury goods such as tea and tobbaco.

  The people are sturdy, shorter than most other humans, and are ruled by King Attal Desos, who was recently charged by the Guild as a friend of Falkiri. This decree only strengthened the Kaldyrians legendary mistrust of outsiders or 'out-landers' as they call them. Desos rose from poverty, some believe him to be born of the Lake People to the south, hence the trade with that group. Others say he was sired by Stricken, and rode into the city one day on their backs, slew the old king and took his crown. These are a people not neccesarily impoverished-for they have all the things that make up a civilized society, but they do have trouble holding onto their history.

  It is a strange phenomena in Kaldyre that the people have incredibly short memories. Some say it is lack of nutrition. Others say their just foolin' at it. More serious folk will swear it is the dwarven god-stones that lie about the city. Great monoliths to snake-like gods and creatures that were never removed. These monoliths are made of an opaque material likened to reddish-blackish stone. These towering monoliths are in a variety of sizes, the tallest being fifty feet high, the smallest a mere five. Scholars have yet to figure out any correlation between the statues,(as to distance, position, size etc.) only that no two creatures ever appear twice. Fifty five have been counted, but Kaldyrians are easily distracted, and as such the statues to this day are largely ignored as far as scholarly work goes. And due to their mistrustful attitude, outside intellectuals rarely get a stab at the statues.

The only statues to ever be moved were that from King Desos' bedchamber. It is known that the king at the time,(who had ordered the statutes removed) had complained of terrible nightmares and headaches, followed by a fever. The king consulted with his trusty advisors about what should be done. One timidly suggested removing the dwarven statues. The king asked if any previous king had complained of such a condition. None of the advisors could remember, and within the hour the statues were removed to the street, where they still are to this day, lined up at the front of the castle gate.
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« Reply #2 on: August 27, 2009, 02:34:41 PM »

Inhabitants


 Adulb'et'Hatha  Literally, in elvish, Self Banished. The group(s) of elves, who , against the wishes of the Elven Saiyide (King,ruler) left the safety of the Calashan to live amongst the other races. Before this time, elves were considered legends and myths to the other races. In time the Adulb mixed with the other races and their bloodlines have bestowed 'earth' based magics upon their descendants.

Dwarves  An extinct race thought to have lived in the earliest time of history, when humans were still primarily nomadic, and True Elves were yet to build their fabled city of Throndenmere. (their is debate as to whether the city or the king was named Throndenmere, although they have become one in the same amongst scholars) They were very skilled masons and craftsmen, and many of their constructions still stand in the current age. (about 4000 years later) Kaldyre is generally thought to be one of there (minor) fortresses. The bulk of there civilization is thought to lay somewhere in the center sea, based on the way the roads and highways they built are arranged. These roads are still used by the kingdoms. They revered an unknown diety, but one which is considered to be a 'dark' aspect of the old gods. A pantheon that was harsh and brutal (think old testament). Snake motifs, fires, plagues, and floods have been cited in the few written works uncovered, many of which are carved into the walls of the ancient cities. These murals, called oscalae by Gladyrian scholars are ornately carved from a strange reddish-black stone found only in these murals and in the statues of these 'dark' gods. Unfortunately, most of the work has been lost to bandits and thieves, as many of these murals were adorned with precious metals-gold,silver etc that are found in abundance around these sites. What caused the extinction of dwarves is unknown.
 Note: Scholars cite evidence of enormous lizardlike creatures present in the cities. Clawmarks, footprints, and even the remains of these creatures. Enormous tunnels and chambers have been unearthed in these cities, suggesting the dwarves at one time had a symbiosis with the creatures. Scholars speculate something terrible happened with these creatures dubbed Draj-ojin, after the true-elvish word for 'downfall' or 'calamity'.



The Travellor

..out there in the miserable wild. The swamp choked the land with its brackish water and gloom. A strange flora here; Barbed blood-red vines that seemed to move as snakes in water.  Entire trees, graceful willows choked by a web of the fleshlike ropes of red, the limbs turned black and dead. Once I saw the remains of what looked like a small single masted boat, no doubt some unlucky Lake-lander that had lost his way. The hull wrapped in the sickly red vegetation, and the remains of a man, still at the helm as if the vines had taken him in his sleep. I struggled to find my way on the dwindling land then, lest I meet a similiar fate.

The climate was sweltering, the heat in-human, even this far south. I trudged on, with only the thought of the hospitality I would recieve once I reached the open waters of the Lake people. The land had long since dropped away, taken by the swamp, and I entered the still water cautiously. The red vines had disappeared as well, but I found even less comfort in the grey, dead landscape. Muck and slime seemed to ooze into my skin, the water reaching up to my waist. I walked for hours, in a slow rythmic pace, wary of disturbing the water. Time became incalculable, the sun obscured and splintered by the dreary haze of clouds.

Somthing scuffed my thigh, heavy and rough, like sandpaper. A single tentacle fluttered out of the water, with a bulbous lid-less eye. I stood motionless. A shiver ripped through my spine and shoulders. Four more creeping eyes appeared in succession, ever closer to where I stood, the pupils jerking mechanically, emotionless.

Cold.

I thought: "This is it. The final story. It's been fun. Saw alot. Shame you won't share a bed with that charming Midire girl again. What was her name? Fine memory for a rhyme-master in the making. Not that it matters now."

The thing surfaced. For the life of me, I cannot remember exactly what it appeared as. I had heard stories, of creatures gifted with the dark gods ability of forgetting. Strange abominations, even more grotesque than the Stricken that can never be described by the very few who escape their grasp. Or in this case, tentacles.
 
Suddenly, as I gave a final farewell and a curse to this world, a pristine light enveloped the beast. Its mucousy eye shattered in globules of a milky substance and the creature shuddered, fading into the water. I looked all around and saw heaven on earth. The swamp was recoiling, replaced with crystal clear waters and bright, vibrant vegetation. That same glow I had seen at the Rocks of the Oracle appeared, and in its wake, an elve.  

 The elve brought the light. He rode on the back of a horse-sized lizard like creature, it's scales the blue of the center sea. But his eyes and hair, black as night. He spoke then, if it was a him. I could not tell under the elves flowing gossamer cloak, like a portion of the night sky brilliantly stabbed with the stars of Gladdiia and Ourodon. Two thin whisps of black mustaches fell to the elves chin and I decided it was a male. The lizard eyes, were very human, its maw curved in a perpetual smile. The elve smiled then and gave a slight nod.

 Then he drew a hidden blade, wide as a mans neck, and as twice as long as his arm. The waters around me had melted, once more revealing the oozing blackness of the swamp. The smell of decay filled my head, and the creature swirled all about, wrapping it's tentacles around my legs. Before I could defend myself, the elve was beside me striking at somthing unseen and cruel.

His mount was there as well, man and lizard striking as one. A flurry of snapping jaws, tentacles and twirling blades engulfed me. My only thoughts were: death, and this will make a fine story. That is all I remember.

I awoke in sheets of silk, in a tiny bobbing cabin. The room, although very small, was wood panelled and carved magnificently. The Lake Peoples work. I was on one of their boats, and I would learn later from a Lake-man that they had found me on the shoreline, where the swamp spilled into their homeland, very weak and babbling like an idiot about elven manners and chivalry.

The sights I thought would hold wonders in the Lake-lands paled in comparison to my encounter in the swamp with the elve and beast.




Elves  True Elves are humanoid, about the size of men, but with very rough,dark sand-like skin. They have elongated earlobes and rough, curly dark hair. Their eyes are round, with double eyelids, to protect from the harsh sun of the deserts. They seldom leave there ancient desert lands, known as the Calashan, and despise the other races, believe them to be barbaric and inferior. This is a policy enacted by their great emporer, but not shared by his only son, Prince Orien Lothelonni, who has sent elven warriors into the lands of men to prepare the re-merging of the two great races left. They are diplomats as well as fighters, and they roam the wilds seeking out the dark things of the world. They are tasked with the removal of these 'dark' things, developing a relationship with the kingdoms, and searching out the remaining Falkiri in hopes of allying with them as well.

They hold a great amount of knowledge of the world, as they were very probably the first race. Legends abound about their great wealth and technology in the near-mythical city of Ahdukar, which no other race has ever laid eyes upon. They have very powerful command of earth magics as witnessed by the border of their lands. Man sees this as a dark, foreboding forest that stretches forever into the distance. To elves and those that carry the blood of the Adulb'et'Hatha it appears as a lush oasis encircling the realm, with a rich, warm desert about a days ride beyond the thick vegetation. The illusion of the dark wood is a warning and deterent to the other races that this is the land of True Elves, and all others are not welcome.  



The politics of the elven court are very complicated, weighed down by elaborate ceremony, and prejudice towards the other races. The elven emporer and his son are, as said before, divided on the isolationist policy. Orien hides his missions carefully from his father, for he would be marked a traitor for disobeying royal decree.

Falkiri Also known as Eldieb, they are extraplanar beings left over from the creation. To be short, the gods created them to be the physical hand in the construction of the world. They also served as warriors in the Civil war that plagued the gods during the creation. There are several categories of Falkiri, all with varying amounts of power. They generally represent a primordial element, such as fire or water, although it is believed they are not restricted to just one or two or even ten elements. Falkiri can bestow magical properties unto a person, or thing for a time, relative to the all around power of the Falkiri. In the Age that has Passed this was a commonplace event and were revered as avatars of the Old Gods. After the Worldbreaking they became feared, hated and hunted by the Guild of Althain Pentir. It is theorized that Falkiri, in order to maintain any amount of magical quality, must be believed in, and worshipped, thus there attachment to the mortal races throughout history.

Songhenneti Known as the 'Ghost' race. The only accounts of this mysterious people are brought back by adventurers who escaped the terrors of the Torn Lands. (the ruined capital of Hathors empire) The adventurers being near death and madness have recounted tales of "ghost-like" men with very pale skin, black eyes, teeth and hair, and elongated limbs and fingers. The odd thing about the Songhenneti is that reports indicate that they have been seen gathering the few plants and vine-fruits left in the Torn Land, and as such scholars speculate that they are vegetarian, while rumours circulate that they only feast on the blood and meat of still-live captives. It is believed that they live in the buried chambers and tunnels that once made up the great city of Carrodwyne, and after centuries of sub-terranean life have an inherant fear/hatred of the sun. Adventurers often testify that they were only saved by the 'grace of the morning sun, as the savages would not chase us into the breaking light'.

Stricken, the Abominations of nature that were first seen after the Breaking of the World. There are as many types of Stricken as there are flakes of snow in winter. The most feared specie is the Gloamer, who devour anything and everything they come into contact with. They appear as short, pot-bellied, three armed, three legged creatures with leathery rock colored skin, a massive mouth that stretches from it's belly to the top of (where its head should be) yet they have no head only two bulging black eyes that sit horizontally on the top of their bodies. They have been known to grow to immense size, the tallest being ten feet tall and weighing nearly 800 pounds. They wander alone because of their insatiable appetite, and have been known to eat one another.
    As far as scholars can tell all other Stricken run in packs, with a distinguishable leader (generally the largest most powerful among the tribe.) They appear as a mixture of man and beast, or reptile and man, or any combination thereof. They are irrefutably evil, razing homesteads and even small townships. Any attempt at negotiation by civilized men have met with disaster. Little else is known about their society, life-cycle or how they procreate. It is still debatable as to whether or not they even have two sexes.

Tetra The Tetra, as the legends go, are the fifth son of Hathor, Toraga, who was the first Tetra. His punishment was to live and suffer through the bodies of many thousands, eternally. The Tetras homeland is the lush tropical jungles of the Mon Ulda valley. A single mountain commands the center of the valley, eclipsing even the impressive knife-like ridges of the surrounding mountain range. In this mountain the Tetra have carved elaborate tunnels and halls which act as a record of everything they have ever done. This mountain has no name to any but the Tetra, which they call simply 'home' and it is here that they are given eternal life in the ritual of the 'reforging'.

They are very religious and pay homage to the legendary 'eternal flame of Mon Ulda'. They have no societal structure other than a small clergy that tend the flame and perform the ritual of 'reforging'.  Only a very few outside of the Tetra have seen this legendary flame which is said to burn white hot, and blind any who are unworthy of setting eyes upon it.  When a Tetra dies its body begins to crack and tear. They can sustain many wounds and their has never been a case of sickness or plague amongst them, and as such, make excellent warriors.

   The Tetra are very stocky humanoids with wide angular faces and deepset eyes that are either murky red or brilliant white. They are hairless, earless and seldom speak in any language but their own, a rumbling tongue that is indecipherable to outsiders. Their skin is the color of tree sap, very smooth and malleable. They are great builders and artisans, and practice only one other trade with such intensity; war. They are remarkable mercenaries with an impecable record for win/loss ratio and performance, and irrefutable loyalty to the buyer. They care not for the politics that come with the trade, and have even battled on opposing sides in the same battle. The price for their services,(negotiated by a non-combatant and clergy of the Flame known as an Akudo) has always been in the form of living captives, one for each Tetra warrior commisioned. The Tetra take these people to Mon Ulda and use them in the 'reforging' process. Some willingly go with the Tetra, the sick and old have always been choice candidates as the Akudo[/] care not for the condition of the person, only that they are living.

 Tetra fight with weapons, but wear no armor as their skin is very nearly impenetrable. They use their heavy fists in combination with a very long, thin slashing sword, which their weaponsmiths create from the metals found in the Ulda valley. They guard their smithing processes very carefully, and will retrieve any weapons from the field, along with the hearts of their kind. (it is a legend that they take the fallen Tetras sword and fold it into the new body given to them in the 'reforging' process).

 
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« Reply #3 on: August 27, 2009, 02:34:53 PM »

Reserved 3
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« Reply #4 on: August 27, 2009, 02:35:07 PM »

And 4
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« Reply #5 on: August 27, 2009, 02:47:55 PM »

Overview needs some linebreaks.

I'm a bit confused by Hathor. It's supposed to be a clan, but also a person?
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« Reply #6 on: August 28, 2009, 11:50:22 AM »

Taken care of it. For some reason the text that I have copied and pasted is not lining up correctly.

Hathor is one person, who ruled over his clan. Typing mistake. Thanks for taking a look ghostman!
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« Reply #7 on: August 28, 2009, 01:06:09 PM »

I like the introductory picture, and I don't know if you came up with a name already, but "Broken World" is pretty evocative-- I'm not sure if it's exactly what you're going for, but it does present the imagery of a world in peril, and a creation that didn't go right.

That said, I'd caution against starting off with a creation myth. While "how the world got the way it is" might be perfect from the perspective of starting at the beginning, most potential players and DMs will want to know what things are like -now-. What's it like walking around? What are the main struggles? What is the average person likely to face?

Something like your "The Traveller" tales, with a greater emphasis on highlighting the unique features of this world, might do better in your first IC box to give an overview, and save the creation myth for those really interested in that sort of thing.
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« Reply #8 on: August 28, 2009, 01:31:51 PM »

sparkletwist


That said, I'd caution against starting off with a creation myth. While "how the world got the way it is" might be perfect from the perspective of starting at the beginning, most potential players and DMs will want to know what things are like -now-. What's it like walking around? What are the main struggles? What is the average person likely to face?


Thank you for the advice, I plan on re-organizing this thread in the near future. To be honest, I probably posted a little too soon, as I still have a long way to go in filling out the world. These are good questions though, and I did plan on using my 'travellor' to kind of give a sense of the world to the average joe. Again, I plan on throwing the 'eye-catching' stuff on top soon.

Thank you for reading/commenting.
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« Reply #9 on: August 28, 2009, 01:39:49 PM »

Sarisa


The city is known for its Senate, the only of its kind in the realm. The Senate is a council of eleven men and woman who have taken a vow of honor to the people of Gladyre. They have to be elected from each of the eleven districts of Gladyre as young men and woman and then they undergo ten years of intense schooling at the Academia Senatus, the pride of Gladyre. It boasts the longest continued records in the realm as well as the largest (known) library of scrolls, tablets, records and books.

   Each of the Senators have given up the right to own property other than the traditional quarters of the Senators. But they are provided for, albeit meagerly as a senator should. As they say in Gladyre-"A senator ought not to have the time in the day to lavish themselves in luxury." It is true. The average lifespan of a senator is a mere thirty-nine years due to exhaustion, overworking and stress. But every year the Academia Senatus' halls are filled with hopeful students. Of the two hundred that attend, only eleven will graduate to the Senate, the other students posted at various other government positions. The Senate meets in a great courtyard, surrounded by a four story villa, which houses the senators and their families. An honor guard of thirty also live in this 'court' of Gladyre, and the Senate has absolute control over the fate of the city.

Now that's interesting but also confusing. The Senators must be elected from the districts, yet we have two hundred students each year attending the Academia. And you said they must be elected before being schooled. So, is the election held to determine who gets to enter the Academy, and the best graduate from each district becomes Senator? Or is it that first 11 people are elected to become Senators and then they attend the Academy with 189 others who are schooled for other offices?

Another thing that puzzles me is, what does this say about the Senator's terms. It seems from your description that they are expected to literally work to death. But it also seems that there's new Senators graduating from the Academy every year. So do they actually serve only single year terms (that'd be pure hell then, if it's enough to reduce their life expectancy so much :o )? Or if they have no set term, what do you do with the graduated Senators? Have them wait in line?

Or maybe they don't elect a new generation of Senators every year. But then there is the problem that the schooling takes ten years; if you only elect new Senators when the old ones die, how do you avoid the office being vacant for years?

I don't really get how this system is supposed to work confused
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« Reply #10 on: August 28, 2009, 02:05:07 PM »

Ghostman


Sarisa


The city is known for its Senate, the only of its kind in the realm. The Senate is a council of eleven men and woman who have taken a vow of honor to the people of Gladyre. They have to be elected from each of the eleven districts of Gladyre as young men and woman and then they undergo ten years of intense schooling at the Academia Senatus, the pride of Gladyre. It boasts the longest continued records in the realm as well as the largest (known) library of scrolls, tablets, records and books.

   Each of the Senators have given up the right to own property other than the traditional quarters of the Senators. But they are provided for, albeit meagerly as a senator should. As they say in Gladyre-"A senator ought not to have the time in the day to lavish themselves in luxury." It is true. The average lifespan of a senator is a mere thirty-nine years due to exhaustion, overworking and stress. But every year the Academia Senatus' halls are filled with hopeful students. Of the two hundred that attend, only eleven will graduate to the Senate, the other students posted at various other government positions. The Senate meets in a great courtyard, surrounded by a four story villa, which houses the senators and their families. An honor guard of thirty also live in this 'court' of Gladyre, and the Senate has absolute control over the fate of the city.

Now that's interesting but also confusing. The Senators must be elected from the districts, yet we have two hundred students each year attending the Academia. And you said they must be elected before being schooled. So, is the election held to determine who gets to enter the Academy, and the best graduate from each district becomes Senator? Or is it that first 11 people are elected to become Senators and then they attend the Academy with 189 others who are schooled for other offices?

Another thing that puzzles me is, what does this say about the Senator's terms. It seems from your description that they are expected to literally work to death. But it also seems that there's new Senators graduating from the Academy every year. So do they actually serve only single year terms (that'd be pure hell then, if it's enough to reduce their life expectancy so much :o )? Or if they have no set term, what do you do with the graduated Senators? Have them wait in line?

Or maybe they don't elect a new generation of Senators every year. But then there is the problem that the schooling takes ten years; if you only elect new Senators when the old ones die, how do you avoid the office being vacant for years?

I don't really get how this system is supposed to work confused




Yikes. Thank you for pointing this out ghostman. Honestly I had not worked on this system very long, the only thing I did know was that it is ruled by a Senate, who have to undergo intense schooling. The point being that (and one that I did not mention) was the drop-out ratio. I mean were talking people literally devoting themselves to the nation, giving up property , working terrible hours etc. One would have to be fanatical in their devotion to such a system, and as such they are. The schooling is meant to weed out those elected but are not up to the task. The "literally working to death" was meant to describe how rigorous and stressful the job is, and in reflection might not have been the best way to present the info.

Thanks for pointing this out! A re-write is in the works.  
 
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« Reply #11 on: August 30, 2009, 03:51:24 PM »

Factions


 The Guild In the cruel days when the world tried to put itself back together, a young man named   Althain Pentir  decided that the world had been destroyed because of Falkiri. Legend has it that he fought alongside Song, the fifth son of Hathor at the great battle, and before the punishment could be cast upon the defeated army, he fled the wrath of the gods.  He gathered a few survivors and waited years before returning to the decimated city in order to salvage what little he could from the libraries of Carrodwyne. He procured a book called The Inner and Outer Mechanics of Practical Arcana (once attributed to Hathors mysterious, and as of yet, unproven eleventh son. Over the centuries, Althain and this mysterious eleventh son became synonomous. Today the book is generally attributed to Althain.)

This legendary book taught Althain a new source of power. One which the gods had either forgotten about in the confusion of the civil war that raged while the creation still went on, or one which was a sort of side-effect to the whole 'creation' process thing. Like a hiccup.

  In the legend, Althain learns many powers from this book, has it copied with intentional errors in regards to very powerful spells, and then destroys it. He then circulates it amongst his followers and then systematically begins hunting down Falkiri.

 In another version Althain learns all he can from the book, but upon casting a particular powerful spell, destroys it in a puff of smoke. He then tries to recall as much as he can and circulates this version amongst his followers.

 Either way, the Guild is still lorded over by Althain Pentir, which in itself is testament to his power, as this means he would be over several hundred years old. Little is known about the workings of arcane magic, which can be likened to natural physical laws. A command word here, an elaborate diagram drawn here and you have your spell. Now were not talking fireballs or ice-storms materializing out of thin air. Arcane magic is much more subtle. Life prolonged. Doors opened. Candles lit. This sort of thing.  

The Guild's homebase is the  Henazzerth Tower, named for an enigmatic character in the book Althain obtained. In fact the only character in the book, who appears and reappears sometimes as the authors voice, at other times observed in order to explain a procedure. Henazzerth is greatly revered in the faith of the Guild.

The tower itself is situated in a hidden location on the southern shores of the center sea. The candidates for the Guild are taken from all over the world as young children, male and female alike, usually from the heretical families the Guild eradicates. The Guild's numbers are estimated in the thousands.

 Quicksilver Messenger Service

 Orbs are often seen flying through the air around the Guild's tower. They are generally silver, glowing dimly and moving at enormous rates of speed. This is a form of communication within the guild. Messages are vocalized by the sender into the Orb, which is actually a glass object that must be created from the sands of the Calashan Desert, where the True Elves dwell. The orb is then injected with an ancient substance, similiar in appearance to mercury, but completely harmless. The substance is known as quickening silver, which gives an object an incredible fluidity, or in this case speed. Other applications are known such as arrows, swords, and even horseshoes. It is an invaluable commodity, and the only known locations are the Palena mountain ranges, near Kaldyre, and the Torn Land. For this reason, the orbs are used in only dire circumstance.  





The Black Scarves

Whispers in the dark alleys of Kaldyre. The Noble Merchants of Midire meet mysteriously with black cloaked men behind closed doors. Even the Senate of Gladyre, that most honorable and wise council, gathers bribe-money each year to keep them at bay. The Black Scarves in the past were a myth, a cruel cult devoted to the Ousted, who strive to release them from their earthly prisons in hope of gaining immense power. They are lead by an even more mysterious entity called the King of the Dawn of the Night, who some speculate is the last dwarven king Throndenmere, corrupted by the evil power of the Ousted. But that is part of their mystique. The legend has done most of the work for them, giving them 'myth' status among the common folk, and now, as they have come into the open, they are feared by kings as well.
 

 The very crust of the earth sheds them like skin every night, and every dawn sees them disappear into the cold ground like a fish in murky water. They are only able to walk the earth in certain times of the year called 'black moon season'. The moon(s) of this world are inexplicably blotted out. The seasons are hard to forecast; although several patterns are known. Other 'seasons' appear randomly. (more)
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« Reply #12 on: August 31, 2009, 06:48:56 AM »

What exactly are the goals of this faction, other than "hunting down Falkiri"? You mention that they eradicate heretical families. What is that all about?

Why is it called the Guild?
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« Reply #13 on: August 31, 2009, 09:48:00 PM »

Ghostman


You mention that they eradicate heretical families. What is that all about?

Why is it called the Guild?
[/quote]

Two reasons:
In the original write up of this faction, I scribbled somthing about living in a 'gilded tower'.

The other  reason is that they consider themselves a guild in that their trade is utilizing arcane magics.
I have'nt decided what they call themselves, though it will certainly suit the factions 'better than the rest of the world' attitude.
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« Reply #14 on: August 31, 2009, 10:05:16 PM »

Just a heads up, Ulduar is a place in World of Warcraft, its one of the Titans forgotten temples or something.
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