The Beginning of the End: Part 4

General Turiyos stared blankly at his visitor.  He sat on a padded camp chair he had been gifted by a rich benefactor many years before when he had been promoted to the regimental mess.  In front of him was a battered sea chest strewn with disposition accounts and scouting reports, after years of inactivity, he had finally managed to goad his command into a semblance of military efficiency.

Before him stood Telobastes, paramount chief of the Harudish people, king in all but name.  The barbarian was livid, he could see the barely-restrained fury bubbling beneath the surface.  Despite his outward calm Turiyos quietly seethed himself.  The gall of this puffed up savage, to storm into his command post uninvited and dare to question his actions.  He vowed to show this petty bandit not to impugn the honor of an officer of the empire.

"I fail to see the issue."  He announced in a disinterested tone of voice.

"The issue!  The issue is your men are kidnapping my people to sell into slavery!"

"Hardly, this is a simple matter of trade.  We find the best way to see to the fair distribution of goods is by exchange.  Since your people are lamentably short of goods at the moment, we have magnanimously deigned to accept a period of indentured servitude instead.  You should be thankful that we are willing to do so as, quite frankly, few of your people would be worth anything at all in the flesh markets of Torre."

"We have come to you in need, our warriors offer allegiance in good faith to save their wives and children from starvation.  You have rebuked our offer and instead trade crumbs for slaves.  Truly yours is a fallen people that you could commit such vile acts." 

Turiyos was a soldier of great experience, and he knew that it was vital to maintain your composure during any encounter.  Indeed, he had often been described as particularly icy and remorseless man.  So it was that even he was surprised at the sheer magnitude of his rage at this accusation.  He surged to his feet, sending his stool crashing backwards.

"You are NOTHING to me!  I hold the very life of your entire race in my hand, and it is only though my good graces that I have decided not to exterminate you like the vermin you are.  SEIZE HIM!"

Momentarily taken aback, the guards hesitated at his shouted command.  Bellowing in incoherent rage, the normally composed imperial general ripped his short sword from its scabbard, leapt bodily over his desk and stabbed the surprised barbarian through the stomach. 

Carried over backwards by the ferocity of the sudden assault, Telobastes was born to the ground.  He was no shrinking violet, as he had one his leadership through feats of bravery in battle.  Despite his mortal wound he gripped the sword hand of his murderer and hammered into his face with a gauntleted fist over and over.

In the grip of a bloodlust he had never experienced before, Turiyos tore his sword free and began hacking wildly at the source of his ire.  He continued this long after the bloody ruin ceased to struggle.  Finally, tossing aside his notched sword and heaving with exertion, he turned to his aide-de-camp.

"Take this thing from my sight, and toss it into the river."

Captain Durvos turned to the guards, "Your heard the general, move it!"

The guards heard the note of command and responded instictively.  Glad to have a clear order to obey so they could avoid thinking about what they just witnessed.  They gathered up the ruined carcass, noses wrinkling at the fetid stink of it, and if they detected a smoky hint of brimstone in the air neither of them recognized it for what it was.

Captain Durvos watched the men as they went about their grisly task.  When they had departed, he walked back into the generals private chambers to see him calmly washing the blood from his hands as though it were no more than road dust.

"That will be poorly received across the river.  He was well-respected and the remaining chiefs might vote for war."

"So what if they do, those rabble could never force the river.  They have no boats and lack the means to fashion a bridge.  We could hold this position for a thousand years against the likes of them."

"Even so, we have men over there now.  Surely there will be reprisals when this comes out."

"If our men are not able to extricate themselves then they are of little value to us anyways.  Surely I do not detect a hint of reprimand from you Durvos.  I know you think your father will see to you, but I will brook no disrepect from an inferior."

"As you say, sir."

The Beginning of the End: Part 3

The two imperial soldiers wended there way through the Harudish encampment.  One was a small, dark man with greasy hair and a cruel gleam in his one remaining eye, the other having been lost in a battle many years ago with a war party of the great barbarian chieftain Andelistes.  The other was a large bluff blond man who strode through the filth with nary a glance.  He was used to such conditions, having been raised as a laborer on one of the empires great plantations until he had joined the army barely a year before.  This marked him as an oddity, a genuine imperial at the post.  Most of the higher ranking officers were citizens of course, and some of the captains. The vast majority of the men in ranks were locals however, some were tawny-haired westermen or dusky-hued islanders from the Sea of Armagh, although most were simply of mixed heritage, a legacy of the advance of the imperial legions and the plague of bastards they left behind.

"We're gonna make a mint in this place."  Declared Hahnel, the smaller of the two.

"What do you mean, aren't we just supposed to find someone to take charge of the relief supplies over here?"

"No, captain said we needed coin ta pay fer tha new citadel.  He said since it was ta protect the empire from these ragged-ass barbarians, s'only right they pay for it, huh."

"It doesn't look like they have much in the way of money."

"Then I guess we need to take it in kind from what they do have."

This puzzled Tiro, even walking the periphery of the disorganized mass of the refugees was enough to tell him that they had little but the clothes on their backs.  They had some pack animals, some of the men still had weapons, but most of them were in poor condition and would hardly be worth trading.  More to the point, Tiro couldn't see why the general wanted a new fortress when the river provided such an effective natural obstacle.  This was one of the few suitable crossing sites for hundreds of miles and even here the Hurus was close to half a mile across and flowed swift and deep.  Even with the sorry state of the imperial garrison and the sheer size of the barbarian host, Tiro did not think they could carry out any kind of assault, let alone a successful one.

His thoughts were interrupted as a large man stepped out in front of them.  He was dressed in the mail and fur of a chieftain, and he carried at his side an axe almost as tall as him.  Despite this Tiro could see that his once massive frame had shrunk and his eyes had the fever bright glow of one facing starvation.

"Inta-hunye gorsenn ail yeja!"

 Tiro starred uncomprehendingly, but Hahnel had been chosen for this task specifically.  His mother had been a slave taken from her home by an imperial raid and he had been raised among other Harudish slaves.

"We come from across the river in the name of General Turiyos.  He had ordered us to bring food to trade with you."

"Trade," spat the axeman, "You make me sick, what would you have of us, our dying horses, or the rags from our backs!"

At the sound of the barbarians anger, Hahnel saw a small head peek out of the makeshift tent behind him.  A girl of no more than ten, with shockingly blue eyes stared at the soldiers.  She had been raised to hate these men, but as she set eyes on them for the first time she knew only a deep, formless dread."

Hahnel smiled at the girl, exposing several missing teeth.  "There is much call for workers in the empire, there is no reason for your family to starve.  Tell me, how many children do you have?"

The Beginning of the End: Part 2

Turiyos listened with satisfaction to the bustle of the garrison.  It was long after nightfall and yet the soldiers labored on.  Since the Harudish had arrived on the banks it had been a great deal easier to assign fatigue duties to the troops.  Fortifications that had been decaying for want of simple maintenance were once again being renovated and reoccupied.  It had been a monumental struggle just to keep the surly border guards to the watch schedules, let alone the work details needed to keep the ancient fortresses in repair.

Turiyos snarled, remembering the frustration of trying to get even an ounce of work out of the surly border guards.  Most of them were local barbarians themselves, or half-mongrel bastards without the virtue of true imperial citizens.  Thankfully that seemed to change with the presence of the Harudish tribes in sight across the river.  Suddenly repairing the bastions and watchtowers became a greater priority than drinking and dicing with the oppressive presence of a horde of foreigners, even one so pathetic as the Harudish.

"They are disgusting, aren't they?"

"Who, the rabble across the river, or the one out in the yard?"

"Yes, truly they are beneath you.  A man of your stature should have a position that better suits you.  Perhaps you will be named Warden here by the council?"

Turiyos snorted with disdain, "The council, they are fools every one of them.  They don't understand that a strong leader is needed in times such as these.  They are too busy bankrupting the treasury and buggering elf-children to do anything worthwhile."

"Perhaps a strong man might take matters into his own hands?  A great leader would not want for permission from lesser men.  He would have the strength to do what was needed for the greater good."

Turiyos eyed his companion warily.  "That is treason you speak.  I fear that our leaders lack the virtues that made our people masters of the known world, but part of that greatness was the holy regard given us by adherence to our republican principles.  A rebel has never known the patronage of Surt or Belann."

"Truly?  What good has the approval of such beings done for your lords and masters, what has it gotten you?  You mouth pious words, but in your heart you know the truth.  Your gods have abandoned you, whether for your sins or for their own amusement matters not.  You know that no matter what happens here, you are all alone."

The slender man in the corner of the room smiled, his yellow eyes glinting in the firelight, and a forked tongue darted out to taste the air.  He could smell the fear and weakness of the man before him.  He knew that the time was nigh to begin the next step.

"But it does not need to be that way.  There are other gods, gods who would not abandon you in your time of need.  They have watched you for many years.  They, unlike your benighted councilors have seen the measure of your worth and they know that it is you and you alone who can save the empire from its own decadence."

Turiyos stared into the small fire at the center of his chamber, lost in thought.  He was not an evil man and in his heart of hearts he recognized this for what it was.  The strangers honeyed words floated through his mind back and forth, and the fact that he recognized the manipulation behind them did nothing to lessen their power over him.  For he was an ambitious man, and more damning, he truly did believe that he could save the empire if only given the chance.

Finally, he spoke in a voice like a freshly dug grave.

"What do I need to do?"

The Beginning of the End: Part 1

Turiyos, Provincial Administrator of the Northern Marches looked out from the bastion wall and smiled to himself.  Across the mighty Hurus river sat arrayed all the collected nations of the Harudish people.  Even a few years ago such a vast host would have chilled the blood of any imperial soldier, but Turiyos knew he had their measure. 

Rather than as conquerors, these savages had come as supplicants.  Forced from their homes by the inexorable march of greenskins and other, darker forces, the Harudish people had taken to the refugee trail en masse and now sat on the empire's doorstep little more than beggars.

Despite their fearsome reputation Turiyos knew that the battered host before him could never force a river crossing.  The great host before him was a paper tiger.  Most of it was women and children, the few warriors were sick and starving.  Even though he only had a few paltry regiments of border guards, they and the extensive river works would be more than enough to hold the barbarians back.

"General Turiyos!"

His reverie interrupted, the imperial commander turned to regard a young captain as he approached, his breath steaming in the winter cold. 

"General, we have word from the Harudish, they will send a legation to discuss terms.  I understand they wish to settle within our borders and offer to shoulder the burden of the frontier defenses."

"A handsome offer, but one that is not acceptable."

"Sir?" The officer looked confused.  Despite his low-rank he was the son of a prominent political family and was familiar with the difficulties involved in even keeping a small garrison in place this far from the center of the empire. 

"These Harudish are hardened warriors and they are know to be people of their word."

"I would not expect you to have the proper perspective, but a life of fighting them has given me an understanding of their nature that no schooling could possible provide you."  This last was delivered with a derisive sneer. 

The young captain Durvos gazed into the middle distance, "As you say sir.  When would you like to receive their chiefs?"

"Not yet, I think we would be better served by making them wait.  Let them feel the pressure mount and we will find negotiations far more fruitful."

"As you say sir."

First Session 03/09/2012

Characters Present
Ugg, Ankhan, Markus, Ladian, Kihn, Oramis

Our heroes found themselves drawn to the city of Ostwin on the shores of the Sea of Armagh.  They came for their own reasons, for knowledge, for faith, for money, or revenge.  Unfortunately the stolid city of Ostwin is not the best place for rowdy men who make danger their profession and soon enough all of them found themselves on the wrong side of an iron cell.

Each of them were shackled and thrown unceremoniously into the back of a prison wagon.  This took them out of the city proper and into a fine manor house about five miles outside the city proper.  Once they were dragged out of the wagon the city guards departed without a backward glance and a small man dressed as a servant ordered their chains struck off and led them into the back of the manse into the servants quarters. 

Here a man named Praster introduced himself and told them that he was a criminal kingpin and that he had identified them as capable individuals who could be of use to him for a specific job.  Praster intimated that he was going into the antiques trade and he had been made aware of a lead on how to obtain a valuable relic of the old empire.

He had been told that an unknown mage had been seen doing extensive research on the location of various magical artifacts.  After a few weeks of daily study, he had suddenly departed into the wilderness alone, stopping only long enough to visit the city market and purchase some survival gear and traveling rations.

Praster indicated that he wanted them to track down the mage and obtain the relic, which he described to them IN GREAT DETAIL.  At this point they were given back all of their possessions and allowed to leave after questioning Praster's informant about their target's activities.  Including a clue in the form of a map copied out of an ancient manuscript that pinpointed two possible destinations; one to the northwest in hilly wild lands plagued by marauding orcs, and another to the south in a more settled lowland area.

Reasoning that if the relic where located in an area that still had regular traffic, it would have most likely been found already, our heroes set off towards the hills to the northwest.  Markus' navigational skills and tracking and proved invaluable as he led the party through the increasingly difficult terrain leading into the Focari mountains.  Their trek proved relatively uneventful until the morning of the second day.

It was approaching midday when the party was navigating through a narrow defile surrounded on both sides by a gentle rocky slope when trouble was spotted.  Kihn was the first to notice the shadowy figures slinking around above them.  He shouted a warning to his new compatriots and readied his massive blade for an ambush.

The sight that met their eyes as they lifted them to the heights chilled their hearts and would have set lesser men scurrying for escape.  An entire warband of orcs and goblins rushed down upon them, the orcs slavering in anticipation at the battle to come.  Spotting a large well-armored orc on the left flank, Kihn moved quickly to intercept them.  Meanwhile Ugg, feeling the battle lust bubbling just beneath the surface strode out to the right.  His fearsome visage was such that every opponent who moved to attack him lost their nerve at the last moment.  Markus readied his bow to begin dealing death to the onrushing orcs and Oramis glided charged the nearest enemies, his blades whispering out of their custom leather sheaths and laid low the first goblin that came within his grasp.  This terrified the late goblins broodmates and they broke and ran for their lives.  The stoic dwarf holy warrior Ladian had grimly unlimbered his shield and hammer and moved out to place himself between his most vulnerable companions and the horde of wild creatures.

After whetting his blades in the thin blood of the goblins, Oramis dashed across the field to find a worthier foe.  He found this in the form of a handful of orc warriors armed with rusty weapons surely looted from dead men.  Markus, having drawn his bow and put shaft to string, loosed it in one smooth, practiced motion and buried it to the flights in the hide of an orc, who thrashed in pain and dropped to the ground, dead in seconds.  Kihn found himself alone and surrounded on the left side of the field and did well merely to hold his own against his raving opponents.  Ladian stepped forward with unstoppable intent and raised his mighty hammer to brain an orc who had tried to get past him to his allies.  On the right flank, the orcs and goblins had finally overcome their terror of the great beast facing them and danced around him, darting in with spears and arrows to bloody the giant.  This served merely to enrage Ugg and something inside him snapped and he roared with murderous fury and laid about him with his massive stone-headed maul, leaving broken bodies in his wake.

Up the hill, the orcs captive realized that, for the moment, the orc camp where he had been held prisoner was deserted.  Wasting no time he promptly extricated himself from his bindings and collected his belongings.  His curiosity got the better of him and instead of fleeing into the hills he moved cautiously down the rise to investigate the cause of his sudden opportunity.  When he spied the melee below he knew that his best chance of escape lay in supporting these strangers and driving the orcs off.  To this end he crouched down behind a low slung boulder and began to concentrate.  He reached out with his will to the dark corners of the universe and began to marshal the phenomenal power needed to alter creation.

Down below, Kihn had struck a telling blow on the orc chieftain and enraged him.  With a bellow he ordered his minions back and pointed with his huge cudgel at the injured clansman.  He rushed forward with the unstoppable rage of a charging bull, Kihn barely managed to lunge to the side and avoid being trampled.  The combatants danced around each other for long tense minutes, the orc chopping away at the smaller man whose defense became increasingly desperate.  Finally, with one great sweep the orc connected solidly and swept Kihn from his feet and into blackness.  As he raised his club to finish off the insensate human, the orc standing in front of him was struck by an arrow and killed.  Looking out across the field for the first time in many minutes, the chieftain saw his warriors locked in combat, he saw the nearest cohort of his band chasing a wildly laughing shadow elf and being cut down in great numbers.  Forgetting the prostrate foe at his feet he lumbered off towards the rest of the battle for more things to kill.

To the right, Ladian found himself overwhelmed by the sheer numbers of opponents, for every one he engaged, two more slipped around behind him.  His hammer worked unceasingly, up and down and his arm burned with the effort of stoving in thick orcish skulls, but never did it slow in his steady, machine-like motions.  Over and over again the dwarfs sheer stubbornness defeated his enemies as they pressed in on him from all sides, raining blow after blow that were wasted on shield and armor.  Those that slipped past though, made for Markus, who was forced to abandon his bow and draw his shortsword and buckler.

Out in front, Ugg and Oramis continued to slaughter all those who came within their reach.  The few remaining goblins finally realized that they feared these killers far more than their cruel orc overlords and slipped away in the confusion.  The orcs were doughty fighters and used to the hardships of battle, but their skill was simply no match for the virtuosity of the elf or the sheer brute power of the wildman.  They traversed the battlefield at will and left nothing but slain enemies in their wake.

Markus found himself locked in a fight for his life as more and more orcs got through to him.  relying on his superior mobility, Markus dodged back and forth, leaping across rocky gaps and ducking behind boulders as the orcs chased after him.  He struck blows as he was able, but more and more of the foul creatures closed in and he knew that it was only a matter of time until his foot slipped or an orc landed a telling blow.  Then, inspiration struck in the form of a watermelon-sized stone tied to a tree branch.  Ugg, having finished killing everything on his side of the battlefield, had wandered back over to the center.  His pelt was sticky with blood, both his and his enemies and his killing lust had left him drained and somewhat lethargic.  This was not to say that he was not still enthusiastic about smashing orcs, he just went about it in a more sedate manner than previously. 

Ladian gathered himself and pushed forward into the horde opposing him, he laid about with his hammer and forced the tired orcs back a step, and then two.  Crying his dwarvish warcry he positioned himself in the center of a chokepoint and set his feet, eyeing the orcs over the rim of his shield and daring them to try him.  This became a non-issue as, strangely enough, a huge tiger leapt down from the rocks above and tore into the hapless orcs.  Showing not a bit of the surprise he felt, he simply turned away in search of new foes and left the screaming orcs to their fate.

Oramis let out a shout of triumph as he deftly removed an orcs head with his razor sharp blade and watched grinning as it spun through the air.  He tracked the arc of the head until it crashed into the ground at the feet of a massive orc with a bloody iron maul.  The two combatants eyed each other for a brief moment and then, looking past Oramis to survey the battlefield, the orc turned and fled.  He had been so intent on confronting the murderous elf that he did not notice the rest of his warband being slaughtered and now, finding himself alone, his orcish courage deserted him and he though only of living to see another day.

Unfortunately for the chieftain and any plans he might have had, the elf was far faster than he and in no mood to see the architect of the attack escape.  He ran down the orc after a brief foot chase and, deftly avoiding the orcs uncoordinated efforts, removed his head with almost surgical precision.

Ankhan was uncertain of what might happen next, the travelers had helped rescue him, in a manner of speaking, but in these dark times that meant less than nothing so he called his conjured tiger back and ordered him to confront the great mass of fur and muscle that approached.  The wildman and the great cat eyed one another for a brief moment, then Ugg extended his hand and the cat sniffed it and licked it.  Just like that the tension was gone and Ankhan decided that whatever happened next, he did not believe these strangers meant him harm.

"Hello, my thanks for your help with the orcs."  Ankhan said, watching the others as they gathered around him. 

"Greetings, by the look of ye, ye've had a rough time of it." intoned Ladian.

"Indeed I have, but it is all in the service of a good cause."

"And what cause would that be, that would cause a man alone to be found in this dangerous place?"  Asked Oramis as he eyed the new arrival with suspicion.

"My quest is my own, you need only know that I am a wizard of no small power.  I am grateful for your intervention but I would take a dim view of any further inquiries into business I consider my own."

"Ak-ook, oo mag eye!"  Rumbled the wildman, pointing at Ankhan and gesturing excitedly.

"by the gods, it speaks!" he cried, taken aback.

"Uchu nota Maagak!" 

Ladian looked back and forth between the lumbering brute and the young mage, "Tell me, master wizard, would you happen to be searching for a silver rod, a silver rod with some connection to the old empire?" 

Despite his best efforts Ankhan could not keep the shock from his face.  "Who sent you?"  He asked with noticable menace in his voice.

Ladian stepped forward and answered; "We were hired by a local....dignitary, to find you and see you safely to your destination.  Our employer has an interest in ancient relics as well as wanted us to ensure that this scepter did not fall into the wrong hands."

Oramis looked confused, "That's not right, he said we were gonna sell oof!"  he exhaled sharply as Markus elbowed him in the ribs.

Ankhan listened to this exchange, but in his head he was pndering this new turn of events.  It seemed that his time in Ostwin had not been as discrete as he had hoped.  It seemed that a local criminal element had learned enough of his purpose to smell an opportunity for illicit profits and had sent these pawns out to steal the scepter as soon as he found it.  Well, that was a knife that cut both ways, he would make use of them to reach his destination, and once he had want he needed, there were ways he could evade his erstwhile companions that they could not possibly counteract.

He was a wizard after all.

...to be continued.  Next time; storming the walls of the Arsis Lacerium, an ancient center of magical learning in the old empire.

The Windblown Pirate

The shadow elf Oramis has spent the better part of fifty years plying the seas around the old empire as a smuggler and pirate.  He delights in employing trickery and intimidation in his dealings with his victims but is not above casual violence.  His thirst for riches is only matched by his thirst for wine.  As yet he is very young, so the traders of the old empire can look forward to centuries more of his depredations, unless of course his intemperate and impulsive nature gets the best of him and he becomes a victim of his own cleverness.

The Hunter of Men

Markus is a hard man born in the rough wastelands at the edge of the Cisallian peninsula.  He learned fieldcraft and survival with his father, hunting deer for the duke's table.  As he grew older he came into his own and began to stalk the woodlands around his home as well. 

The time came where he was ordered to accompany a large party in the search for a man wanted for killing the dukes nephew.  After two weeks of fruitless chasing, Markus decided to strike out on his own and hunt the criminal as he would any other prey.  Much to his benefit this method proved far more effective and he brought back the offending soul in chains.

From that day forward he was empowered by his duke to hunt down those who had offended him.  Markus was pleased with this as he had found a vocation that he was adept at and that he found he enjoyed.  Unfortunately this situation did not last as his patron was on the losing end of a dispute with a bandit king and was killed in an ambush.  Since then, Markus has travelled incessantly in search of those who need someone found and are willing to pay the price to see them brought in.

The Devout Blade

Kihn the shameless is an extradordinary individual, even amongst his own people.  Born in the harsh and unforgiving coasts far to the northwest, Kihn's people were not greatly influenced by the hand of the old empire and their connection to their own gods yet remains strong.  This gives Kihn a purity of outlook and a serene confidence in his own place in the world that is lacking in the more "civilized" peoples farther south.

The Stalwart Shield

The dwarf holy warrior Ladian is an upright defender of all that is right and proper in the world.  Ladian is a devotee of a minor dwarven deity that, while not well known in the wider world, is still greatly revered in his clan freehold and is a formidable supernatural ally.

Language in the old empire

There are many languages and dialects spoken across the breadth of the world.  In the lands that were once part of the old empire there are several major languages.

• Low Imperial: This is the most prevalent language in the province of Cisallia itself and was the primary tongue spoken by imperial citizens and their descendants.  It is an elegant tongue with a tight grammatical structure and is capable of great precision even when speaking of highly abstract concepts.  Almost everyone in the Cisallian peninsula speaks low imperial or a derivative thereof, this includes halflings, who have been part of human society so long that their original language has died out except in the form of some few words that were absorbed into imperial(most of which are ways of describing food).  In addition, many in the western land of Prydein also speak a form of low imperial, especially the educated urban nobility.

• High Imperial: This is a very formal and much more restrictive subdialect of low imperial.  It is considered the most noble of languages (at least by imperials and their admirers).  Its baroque and convoluted grammar and syntax are seen by its users as proof of its superiority and it is the tongue most often used both in poetry and scholarly works as well as in magical writings created by imperials.

• Prydi: This is the language of the western peoples.  Looked down upon for their barbarian heritage, in truth the Prydein people were absorbed by the empire during its early expansion and have a tradition of urban culture almost as old as the Cisallians.  The Prydi tongue has changed significantly since contact with the empire has begun and it can legitimately be said that their are now two distinct sub families; Imperial Prydi and Old Prydi.  The imperial version of the language uses Prydi vocabulary for the most part with some loanwords for more abstract concepts but is structured according to imperial grammatical rules.  Old Prydi on the other hand is rare outside of the northwestern hills and is most closely related to the original speech of the barbarian Prydeins.  It is a musical and somewhat singsong tongue that has a tendency for grand exposition.

• Harudish: The northern peoples were never entirely conquered by the empire and so their speech is much less affected by imperial language.  The Harudish tongue is a simple, blunt thing that is well suited to conveying simple concrete information quickly and efficiently.  It has little ability to cover more scholarly topics and is disdained by men of learning as the tongue of savages.  Harudish people return the sentiment as they have a dim view of sophistry and prefer men to speak clearly and to the point.

• Common Elven: This is the language that elves speak during their everyday lives.  It is also the only elven language that non-elves are likely to be able to learn.  It is a language of capable of astounding clarity but also enormous depth.

• Sylphan: This is a bastardized offshoot of Common Elven that is spoken exclusively by the isolated forest-dwelling wood elves.  It retains many of the features of Common Elven but its separation from the Elven community has resulted in the Sylphan language developing an additional level of complexity.  Those few outside the wood elf community that have learned something of the language are fascinated by it, they say that it seems to be cryptic by nature, as if it was a conscious decision on the part of the speakers to hide what they were thinking at all times.

• Arcane Elven: This is the Elven language at its most inscrutable.  The Arcane dialect of elven is almost never spoken in mixed company and indeed only a small percentage of elves are capable of speaking it, as it is truly a magical language and it requires the application of mana in order to convey meaning with it.  Those who are not capable of wizardry who simply repeat the sounds by rote will find that they merely spew meaningless syllables.
• Dwaryn: This is the common tongue of all of the dwarvish peoples and is quite commonly spoken by gnomes as well.  It is a craftsman's language and is simple in structure and efficient in use, but is capable of exacting precision in all things, especially discussing mining and metalwork.

• Courtly Dwaryn: This is an elaborate linguistic embellishment of the simple dwaryn and is almost never used outside of official court functions for the simple fact that it takes an inordinate amount of time to actual say  something.  It is a requirement of such formal occasions though and this custom actually represents the first level of insulation between the dwarven king and petitioners.  If the petitioner is not capable of speaking courtly dwarvish, they must obtain the support of one who does in order to have their issue raised in the presence of the king or his officers.

• Gnomish: Gnomish is a sharp, staccato speech that is prized by linguists for its enormous flexibility.  Gnomes rarely use loanwords because their own native tongue has such a robust system of prefix's and suffix's that it is almost impossible not to be able to describe something with gnomish vocabulary.  Gnomes have more ways to express the concept of stubbornness than dwarves, and are better able to describe ennui than elves.

• Orcish: This is the language spoken by the various greenskinned peoples of the far east.  It is a crude, guttural tongue with little capability for intelligent discourse and many words that express rage and hatred.

• Cheyua: This language is rarely encountered in imperial lands, but it is known as the eastern exiles speak it amongst themselves and can sometimes be heard quoting the wisdom of the ancient philosophy of their masters.

• Wilder: This is the brutish language of the wildmen.  It is unsophisticated in the extreme and has few abstract concepts and has a limited means of communicating events in time.  As such, wildmen have little concept of the passage of time.  Events can only be described as "before," "now," or "soon." 

The Noble Savage

To The People, I am Bloodfang, Ripper-Of-Dead.   My mother was Meets-The-Mind's-Eye, a sage of The People. My father was Thrashes-in-the-Dark, the One Who Was Corrupt.  I take no pride in this.  Mother died in birth, father said. She is with Nex. She was never given a honor rite or proper burial.  She died like an animal.  My father treated her like an animal. I take no pride in this.

My father caged me.  He hated me. I hated him back.  In Youth, I knew no better.  I have no pride in this. 
He would whip me.  He would starve me.    I do not remember what happened after that. I remember being angry.  There is nothing in those memories but red hate.  I know it now to be Rage. I know it now to be Frenzy. I remember next running.  I ran until I found Erika. I licked her wounds, she licked mine. I was happy.

We lived together in the woods, killing anything we could to eat, running from everything else. It was a long time. A long long time, until we went to find my father again. I don't know why we did. Erika wanted to. We found him dead, killed by his clan members. They hated him too. For making me into a monster. They tried to kill me, too, the ones who found us first. We killed them. Erika was good at killing.  Erika liked it.  I did it for her.  . The Rage made us soldiers. She said she needed my strength to fight The Evil. Erika taught me to fight with weapons. She was graceful. And fierce. And beautiful.  I craved her.  I yearned for her when she was away.  She was mine.

             I was taught to hit things that needed to be broken. I am good at it. The club is my weapon. I can break anything with my club. We killed many Evil in my Wood. I was happy.

We were strong even then. Very strong. We were lead into battle against a great Serpent. The Serpent killed many many soldiers when we were there. Erika said we could destroy The Evil for good. In one battle, we were lead into an ambush. It was not the first, and we fought. Erika was betrayed by her Rage, though. She fell and frothed with blood on the ground. I fought off the Evil as they tried to kill her as the rest of the soldiers ran off. I killed many, but there were more. I would have died had Menna not saved me.  A mighty bolt slew the Serpent, it's source Unseen. Erika and I survived to fight again. No others did.

The army hated us then. Erika was blamed for the soldier's deaths. I almost killed the General who said Erika should be killed.  They put a collar on me.  They called me Pet.  I have no pride in this.

They caged Erika.  In bars, and shackles.  They did not call her pet.  I was confused.  A few days later, they hung Erika from a rope.  She was graceful.  And fierce.  And Beautiful.  And dead.  I cried.  I have no pride in this.

I do not remember what happened after that.  I remember being angry.  There is nothing in those memories but red hate.  Rage.  Frenzy.  I remember running.

Now I am in South.  I do not like South.  The sun is hot.  The ground is hot.  The snow is gone.  I am alone.  I am hungry. But I am no Pet.  I am free now.  I have pride in this.

The Prodigal Mage

It was a brilliant casting.  As the Orc scouting party dared to enter the grounds of the Order of the White River, they were observed by an advanced student returning from his early-morning cleansing in the refreshing waters.  As his fellow mages were too fond of the comforts and servants of their chambers, he was alone.  As the trespassers slinked past the reflecting pool in the outer gardens, they were beset upon by ghastly, rotting images of themselves, too long in the grave, from the surface of the water. 

The magic flowed from Ankhan easily, effortlessly.  He reveled in the dismay and panic that sent the unwelcome guests fleeing out into the plains.  Then, it took hold of him.  Something flowed from the living mana of that spell into his consciousness.  It was a window, perhaps; maybe a foreshadowing or even a brief but chilling connection with the other side.  A dark force met his gaze and the sight of it took the color from his eyes.

Brushing away his single-handed defense of the community, the masters were quick to point out Ankhan’s boldness.  Their smug and disapproving tone never failed to infuriate him.  Surely, he would be quoted as the example of inappropriate scholarly methods in all the forthcoming lectures, again. 

Since his arrival at age four, he was trouble.  His peasant parents, of unknown origin, recognized his gifts.  Leaving them with the Order was visibly painful, but they could not hope to care for him nearly as well as the wise and learned brothers of the mystical ways.  All that remains of them, now, is found in Ahkhan’s olive skin and quick temper.  These traits and his incorrigible mischief set him apart from all of the other students.  His friends and classmates were never disappointed by his antics, though.  Sometimes, he even took the blame for someone else’s mayhem to keep them from harm.  They soon learned to trust and admire him.

For years, he has felt the corruption creeping into the workings of the world.  He senses it when he manipulates the mana to his will, bringing forth all manner of beast and phantom.  The more he uses his power, the more the creatures of this world shun him.  Now, he is forbidden to enter the stables for the unease that he brings.  He hasn’t seen one of the dozens of cats of the Order, favorite familiars of the mages, in two years.  Yet, the masters dismiss his concerns as one might fan smoke from a room.  They say his worries are as one of his illusions; without form or substance.  Too long have Ankhan’s masters submitted to the rituals and rulings of the Order.  They no longer feel the living mana, but use it only as a potter uses clay.  They’ve lost their true ties to the arts.  They are blind.

It is time to leave.  Ankhan has learned all that he can from the Order of the White River.  Severing all ties, he dismisses the lost masters and their hidebound lecturing. He makes his way into the larger world to learn the source of this corruption and seek out the magical artifacts of legend to assist him.  Into the city of Ostwin he travels, seeking rumors and tales.  He seeks to reveal this evil and pull it from the earth.  Thus, he makes his way through the world.  He’s a wizard, mind you…

The ravaged Capital

The capital city of the empire has lain in ruins for centuries.  At the end of the imperial period the capital was besieged vast horde of orcs.  The siege lasted for over a year.  The orcs easily defeated every imperial relief expedition organized but despite repeated attempts, were not able to storm the walls.

Finally, a young man whose name has been lost to time made a decision with repercussions that resonate down through to the modern age.  He feared death, and the longer the siege lasted the more certain his ultimate doom appeared so he decided that he would take whatever steps necessary to regain control of his own destiny.  If he was fated to die, than death should not be an end.  He began a search through the cavernous magical libraries of the city to find a way out for himself.  After weeks of searching he came across a book that had been buried in a locked vault.  The vault had been breached by a massive stone projectile launched in one of the periodic orc bombardments.

As he stared at the tome, bound in pale flesh and inked in a dark blood red ink, and his very humanity cried out to step away, to abandon this mad course of action and go back to man the walls, but he did not.  Instead he picked up the book and immediately heard a rasping whisper in the back of his mind and a brief moment of regret was the last sane thought in his head.

Soon afterwords, the orc camp was caught completely by surprise as the massive reinforced gates swung open.  The imperials had been unassailable beyond their mighty fortifications and the orc warlord had begun to doubt his position as daily he had reports of subordinate chiefs losing faith and striking out on their own in search of easier plunder.  Instead of a disciplined phalanx of imperial guardsmen, what greeted the eyes of the astonished orcs was a shambling horde of dead and decaying human bodies.

Taken completely by surprise, the orcs struggled to form a coherent defense but the undead were without fear and consumed with the need to come to grips, to rend and destroy and make someone pay for the monstrosity that had been wrought upon them by one of their own.

After the brief, one-sided battle, the remaining undead turned about and filed back into the city, the gates were shut behind them and that is the last time the living have laid eyes on the glory that once was the great city of Torre.

Prominent Factions

• Berskr-Krang: The Berskr-Krang are a savage brotherhood of warriors dedicated to blood and glory.  They have their origins in the far north but the group is nomadic by nature.  As members wander further and further afield looking for battles to fight and enemies to slay, occasionally they meet other individuals desirous of glory and willing to swear to the service of Stiggan and spend their lives wandering the earth in search of worthy foes to slay.

• The Watchers: The Watchers are a loosed association of poets and historians who have dedicated their lives to ensuring that great events are preserved for posterity.  Rather than write their histories down in books and papers that can be lost or destroyed, the Watchers commit their histories to memory by composing them as songs and poems.

• The Temple of Maskius: The single most powerful and influential cult in Cisallia, the Temple of Maskius has dedicated itself to the advancement of mankind.  The means of accomplishing this goal are hotly debated within the Priory and by the lay brothers as well.  Some favor a passive program of teaching and empowering, others are more militant and insist that Maskius demands that evil be confronted and destroyed wherever it resides.

• The Circle: The circle is a group of druids appointed by Faina herself to safeguard the purity of the wilderness.  In the west there are few cities not already abandoned and slowly being reclaimed but there is an ever present danger of corruption by dark forces.  Circle druids patrol their lands in search of any evidence of desecration and move to combat it by any means necessary.

• The Chosen of Rhoinn: This is a holy order of paladins who serve as champions of justice across the land.  The members of this order of selected from the most promising Prydein nobility.  Being selected for elevation to this order brings great honor both on the initiate but his entire clan and even though the life they lead often ends with a grisly death at the hands of some supernatural evil, their selection is a moment of profound joy.

• The Second Sons:The Seconds Sons are a company of mercenary warriors that travel throughout the lands of the old empire in search of a battle to be fought and profit to be made.  They are not the largest company, or the most renowned, but they are respected because of their reputation for keeping faith with their employers, not the most common trait among sellswords.

• The Society of Righteous and Harmonious Fists: Across the sea to the east lies a a land beseiged by evil.  Qechuay is a poor land with few resources and her people are of humble origin, but long have they lain in the shadow of darkness.  The adepts of the society travel in exile and search tirelessly for ancient teachings and artifacts of power that might aid in freeing their land from the grip of its dark overlords.

• The Road Wardens: In the days when the emperors writ held true, it was said that a naked virgin could walk from the capital in the south all the way to the winterkeep with a bag of gold and no fear.  This was so because the imperial roadwardens knew every road and path and mule track in their districts and worked ceaselessly to keep them safe.  After the empire fell the roadwarden ceased to be a paid position and became instead an inherited duty.  Today these modern descendants know the hills and forests of their homes every much as well as their forebears and snuff out evil wherever it is found.

• The Sunburst Corsairs: Originally this was a piratical brotherhood that counted amongst its members almost one in three of the pirates that plied the waters around the empire southern coasts.  Since the fall of the empire and the resulting diminishing of trade, the Sunburst Corsairs have become much more diverse in their activities.  The swaggering arrogance of the corsair holds a certain appeal for young gentleman and the Corsairs are very welcoming of rich young men seeking a place to find companionship in many varieties.

• The Night Market: In Ostwin, when one wishes to acquire something that cannot be had otherwise, one goes to the Night Market.  The Night Market is a group of unscrupulous merchants that employ all manner of cutpurses, catburglers, and outright thugs to obtain goods that are sold at cut-rate prices.  The stolen property is sold off at secret bazaars that are held in the abandoned sections of the city after sundown.  The locations of the Night Markets are a closely guarded secret and you must be invited to know where they will be held at any given time.

• The Order of the White River: On the plains outside Ostwin snakes a slender clear river.   Along a bend in this river there sits a small cluster of slender graceful buildings.  Within these buildings reside the mages of the Order of the White River.  A small school that has dedicated itself to the preservation of the arcane knowledge accumulated by the wizards of the old empire.  Members of the order go out into the world in search of the learning of a past age.  The Order of the White River is one of the few places where great magic is still taught.

The city of Ostwin

The city of Ostwin has fallen far from its previous glory.  Once a shimmering jewel in the crowns of the emperors of man, Ostwin has suffered greatly since the dissolution.  Ostwin was once a thriving metropolis of over 50,000 permanent residents but it has suffered greatly in the intervening centuries and now less than half that number live in its crumbling precincts.

Despite this, Ostwin is still one of the largest of the old imperial city-states still in existance.  Ostwins port facilities, although a far cry from their heyday, are still extensive and provide trade and wealth to the city's rich merchant houses.

The city itself is a study in contrast, the dockyards and trading markets are in good repair and well patrolled by city guardsmen.  The poorer districts and back alleys are virtually neglected and are on the verge of collapse.  When you leave the business and merchant quarters you are entering abandoned ruins inhabited by the deperately poor and those who make their living illicitly.

The heart of the old empire

This is a map of the region known as Cisallia, it was the seat of the old empire and one of the few places left on the continent where mankind was not entirely forced back into a tribal existence.  Although the former capital of the empire is now for the most part a mouldering ruin, there yet remains some imperial city states with the strength and wealth to resist the dark tide of evil that constantly threatens mankind.

One of these is the old imperial port of Ostwin, situation on the interior coast of a peninsula separating the vast Middle sea to the south and the Sea of Armagh to the north, Ostwin was one of the chief trading cities of the old empire and yet maintains a strong merchant fleet.  Unfortunately the city is beset on all sides by hostile orcish tribes in the mountains to the northwest, rival city states to the south, and the constant threat of seaborne raiders.  Yet out of this adversity grows a thriving community led by the vigorous and charismatic Lord Mayor Oraka.  Some say that the young Lord Mayor has the greatness of the ancient imperial line in him and it is whispered that he himself feels the call of destiny.

Halflings and Gnomes

These small humanoid people have long since been integrated into the great societies of their larger brethren.  In the case of halflings, whose villages and burrows are found throughout the human lands of the old empire, they have for the most part simply taken up the worship of the human gods.  However, there is one exception to this, only a single halfling deity has survived intact to the present day; Rallo.  It is unknown whether Rallo was always a god, or if he represents an ancient halfling culture hero but one thing is clear, Rallo represents the epitome of all of the virtues that halflings most admire.  He is a sensible being who enjoys nothing more than the comfort of a warm safe burrow and a good meal.  However, when the situation calls, Rallo has been known to perform great feats and is renowned for his ability to out-think his opponents.  Given the lack of physical prowess, it is very important for both a halfling and a halfling god be sly, and a fiendish sense of humor is another trait that marks Rallo as a true halfling.

Gnomes are a slightly larger people that lived originally in the foothills of the great mountain ranges.  It was long before the emergence of mankind that they met and befriended the ancient dwarves.  Although they live in separate communities for the most part, gnomes are not uncommon in dwarven holds and vice versa.  Unlike halflings, gnomes never took to worshiping the gods of their benefactors and in fact, if gnomes ever worshiped that has long since changed.  Unlike any other people gnomes are rational beings by nature and inclination and do not expend effort in trying to placate the fickle supernatural egos of the divine entities.  Instead the gnomes look to better understand the world in the most complete way possible.  Because of this gnomish technology is far in advance of any of the other people of the world, but due to their distate for large populations this technology is not disseminated efficiently and most gnomish devices are merely prototypes.

gods of the West and North

The western, or Prydein people were a free and proud culture with there own grand legacy and legendary heroes until they were brought under the control of the emperors of old many thousands of years ago.  After that period they were encouraged to emulate imperial culture in every particular so it is very common to see great urban centers that are peopled entirely by those of Prydein descent.  Worship of the southern gods is widespread but the western gods were never completed suppressed and since the fall have enjoyed a great resurgence as they old ways of the tribes are rediscovered and ancient legends are remembered.  Some of the most powerful western gods are detailed below.

• Rhoinn: Rhoinn is the Prydein god of kingship and sovereignty.  He is invoked whenever a new royal is acknowledged and is also considered the protector of the Prydein people in general.  He is also the master of freshwater and in this capacity he is guardian of the well of wisdom.

• Faina: Faina is the untamed western goddess of freedom and the wildness of nature.  She is sometimes depicted as a wild mare and it is known that she holds a special place in her heart for horses of all kinds.  Faina does not generally inspire clerics or holy warriors as her followers do not believe in restricting themselves to such an extent.  Instead many of her priesthood are druids or shamans.

• Farhage: Farhage is the dark and sinister god of seas and winter.  He was originally a significant member of the western pantheon but was confronted by Rhoinn and exiled from into his current watery domain.  Farhage is an cruel and unsavory god who is rarely worshiped but is instead placated by sailors hoping to avoid a wrathful storm or by farmers hoping for an early end to winter.

• Athair: Athair is a great jovial god who is master of the natural order.  He holds sway over life and death in its most fundamental expression.  He is also the mentor of Rhoinn and is master of teaching and magic.  He is depicted as a massive avuncular character with a great club in one hand and a cauldron in the other hand.

Far to the north, cold winds blow all year round and hard men stalk great beasts through the dark bowers of endless evergreen woods.  This land was never fully tamed by the empire and only in the borderlands are there any signs of cities or the comforting familiarity of imperial culture.  Beyond the borderlands lies harsh mountains and boundless forests.  Within these lands roam mighty beings of elemental power and unthinkable abominations that defy description.  Among these live the Harudish peoples of the north.  Never having been subjugated by the old empire, their ancient culture remains untainted and intact.  Imperials will find cold comfort among the windblown savages and the deep north unless they can prove their worth against the worst that the dark hordes can bring.  The Harudish people still pay homage to the gods of their ancestors almost exclusively.

• Stiggan: This is the greatest of the northern gods and he rules of the realms of wisdom, war and death. Wizards look to Stiggan for knowledge, warriors look to him for glory, and the dead look to him for peace.

• Fijand: This is the only son of Stiggan and he is master of the sky and is a protector of the weak.  He blesses weddings and births and is one of the most beloved of the northern gods.

• Malhyus: Malhyus is the northern god of vows, justice, and leadership.  He is also the patron of swords and is invoked by arms makers as they complete their rites and by warriors on the eve of battle.

• Lagjana: Lagjana is the northern earth mother and blesses the harvest of her people.  She is wife to Stiggan and shares his powers of wisdom and prophecy.  She is the guardian of plants and animals and patroness of love.

I will be posting the last part of the background regarding gods and religions later tonight with a little write-up about gnome and halfling beliefs.  After that I will  start writing a little bit about some of the political powers that have emerged in the absence of the old empire, and more about the ultimate menace that is faced by all creatures who would not be slaves to dark powers.

Pantheon of Ambrenur

The elves have a well established pantheon of gods that predates any other organized religion. In fact some people say that the human gods are merely shadows of the great elven gods that are more active in the mortal plain simply because they lie closer to the mundane than the unfathomable nature of the elven deities.

Regardless, the elven gods rarely intercede on behalf of their people directly. This has caused the elves to focus more strongly on developing their own supernatural power through the path of Arcane magic. Elven religion also enshrines the idea of the spirit as a object of reverence so elves can be described as powerful animists, and while the great gods are not listening, an elf cleric is quite capable of calling upon the spirits of the land and sky to heed his call.

Aside from the numberless host of spirits both great and small; the elves of any kindred will worship these major gods to some degree or another.

• Aeguo Anwarunya: Aeguo Anwarunya is the elven god of magic and scholarship. He is the most revered of all the elven deities but also the most remote. It is said that his only connection to the elves was to breath in the essence of magic into the first elves at the very instant of their creation so that they might make their own way in the world. Needles to say most elves pay him great respect, but his temple is small and relatively uninfluential because he so rarely manifests on the mortal plan.
   
• Finarfin Lossehelin: Finarfin is the elven god of sea-faring and also the representation of storms. As such, he is also recognized as the lord of fate and sits in judgement of all living things while on the mortal plan. He is most widely worshiped amongst the sea elves. His fickle nature is often cited by high elves as the reason they behave in such an unseemly manner.
   
• Gelmir Telperien: Gelmir and Nolofinwe are two sides of the same coin. Both hold sway over death, but Gelmir is recognized as the dark side of elven nature. He is the god of war and murder and he is found in the deep pools of emotion that like under the seemingly serene face of the elf.
   
• Nolofinwe Telperien: Nolofinwe is the other elven death god. Her nature is diametrically opposed to the brutal, bloody aspect of her sibling. She is the goddess of peace and serenity and also holds authority over dreaming, both in sleep and as a form of prophecy.
   
• Feanaro Arnatuile: Feanaro Arnatuile is the shimmering goddess of life and beauty. She representents all the is good and pure in the world and is considered incorruptable by the elves.
   
• Celahir Carnesir: Celahir Carnesir is the elven god of light and the sun. He is most often depicted as a warrior in shining golden armour riding a flashing chariot pulled by a pair of fiery steeds. He is spouse to Feanaro Arnatuile and even though he is considered a force of good, his jealous nature sometimes causes him to lose control of his temper and act rashly. 

The next post I will be putting up will go over the wilder, more primal gods of the northern and western peoples, and lastly a brief post about how gnomish and halfling cultures fit in and what gods they worship.

Dwarven gods

The dwarves have a much more intimate religious tradition. Although they do recognize three primary deities, the majority of dwarven worship is directed towards the spirits of their noble forebears. That is to say that any given dwarf will recognize the three main gods, but most of his or er devotion will be given to the ancient progenitors of his clan or hold. In this way, heroic and venerable dwarves can be objects of great respect after their deaths, and slowly become minor local gods, although ancestor worship is less formal than a true temple and will not have a specific clergy as that is restricted to the gods of the dwarven people as a whole. These deities are briefy described below.

• Hendurs: Although the dwarven pantheon is far less heirarchical than the human gods, Hendurs could be considered the primary god and patron of the dwarven people as a whole. His primary area of concern is that of crafting and hence proficiency; age and wisdom, and wealth. These three things being of paramount importance to all dwarves he is a very well respected god.

• Kerdic: Kerdic is the dwarven god of war and is also the manifestation of the absolute fidelity of the dwarf. Kerdic represents the unquenchable fury of the dwarf who is wronged, as well as the implacable nature of the hold when engaged in conquest. As he is also the epitome of loyalty he holds sway over the concept of friendship and alliance, and is often invoked when negotiating or engaging in a business deal.

• Aella: Aella is the only major dwarven goddess and her realm is that of hearth and home. Although she is a domestic goddess and is most often thought of as a nurturing and peaceful entity, her wrath is legendary when her family and home is threatened. Indeed in dwarven legends it is Aella who delivers the deathblow of the great serpent Galuagh as he stands over the badly injured Kerdic.

I will try my best to finish up the rest of the humanoid pantheons today. Next I will be touching on the gods and spirits of the elves and after that we will finish up human religions with a fe notes about the pantheons of the western and northern peoples, as well as a few words on specific gods of the gnomes and halflings.

The Cult of Maskius

Maskius is a new god who has emerged as a major power in the centuries since the dissolution of the old empire. Rather than being incorporated into the imperial pantheon, the Maskian temple stands apart and requires much more exclusive worship from adherants. Unlike other temples, clerics of Maskius do not recognize the primacy of other gods in any area and instead pray to Maskius for everything. This doesn't mean that they do not recognize the existence of other gods, because these supernatural entities do occasional manifest in ways that cannot be denied, simply that they believe that Maskius is a supremely powerful being that is not limited to a single area of influence.

The temple of Maskius has grown powerful in recent centuries, primarily in the larger cities of the old empire, but it has not entirely supplanted the old gods even there. However, recently there has been a marked division within the temple hierarchy; most of the cult wishes to continue to operate as a pacifistic church, while a small but energetic minority have taken to the idea of military expansion, both of their religious authority and on behalf of the citizens of the empire against whatever monstrous elements may be threatening them.

gods of the old empire

The people of the old empire are divided religiously between the old gods of the southern pantheon, who were worshipped by the people of the empire even before there was an empire, and the recognition of a new cult that has arisen since the fall but has achieved great popularity; especially with those who have ambitions greater than their current stations would allow.

The chief deities of the old empire are outlined below:

• Belann: Belann is the ancient imperial god of war, and in these troubled times his cult remains powerful and well respected. Belann has always been considered a god who favors those of lower birth, as he himself was not born of the divine, but was an offspring of Temrian and a mortal mother who was raised to his current position by recognition of his usefulness. He demands the twin virtues of faithfulness and proficiency above all others. The cult of Belann maintains a strong presence throughout the lands of the old empire and there are a multitude of warrior orders empowered in his name.
• Calix: This is the divine manifestation of the Earth, in the strictest elemental sense. Calix is often considered a somewhat distant deity and does not enjoy the universal appeal of some other gods. Nevertheless, his authority is considered absolute within his sphere and almost all miners and stonemasons make regular contributions to his temple in order to ensure favorable working conditions.
• Corion: Corion is a learned god and was the primary god of wisdom and knowledge before he was supplanted by a new jealous divine entity. His role since the fall of the empire has been somewhat reduced, but his feat of restoring the god Surt to life in the age of heroes has ensured that he retains worshipers in the form of doctors and healers of any stripe.
• Deligo: Deligo is a god of love. He not only represents that of romantic love, but also that of a mother for a child, or that shared between brothers. For this reason, despite the lack of a strong cult, Deligo remains an important figure in the divine realm for his diplomacy.
  
• Ensiu: An elemental force of fire, Ensiu is a two-faced goddess that is both beloved and feared. She is a nurturing mother figure at sometimes, when she represents the positive effects of a warms safe hearthfire. Other times her fickle nature overcomes her and she rages out of control and becomes a titan of unfeeling destruction. Templars of Ensiu go out into the world and expunge evil witht the purifying flame of Ensiu.
  
• Faber: Faber is the craftsmen of the gods. He is represented as a stocky, unassuming figure wearing simple clothing. Another god of the lower classes, he does not require elaborate ritual or compulsory tithing, but simple an act of expertise. Faber wishes his adherents to find the simple joy of competence.
• Marennon: Marennon is the god of the sea, as such he is also recognized as a master of trade and currency. His temple is by far the richest of the old gods and enjoys a strong relationship with that of Viator. Clerics of Marennon are master sailors and are renowned for their imperturbability in the face of adversity.
• Menna: Menna is the Huntress of the divine realm. She, like Belann, was not born a goddess. Unlike Belann, she seized her godhood by tracking a celestial beast across the bridge of light and into the realm of the gods. When she finally ran down her prey, she slew it and drank of its heartsblood. This act conferred upon her divine status, although the other members of the pantheon do not recognize her as an equal. For this reason there is no central cult of Menna. Instead she empowers her servants individually and does not recognized a true priestly order. Menna is the only southern deity that druids routinely worship.
• Messora: Messora is the goddess of the harvest and fertility in general. She is strongly recognized as a patron of plants and animals, but only those that are under domestication. Rural folk consider her primarily a goddess of agriculture and revere her accordingly. IN aristocratic and urban circles, she is more strongly identified as a representation of fertility and is more often invoked when a marriage contract is concluded by a noble family than Deligo.
• Nex: Nex is the god of death. He was granted authority over the disposition of mortal souls and his integrity is absolute. He is a stern-faced judge and it is universally recognized that there can be no avoiding his gaze. His cult views undeath in any form as a peversion of the natural order and spare no effort in tracking it down and eliminating it wherever it may occur. There is no more frightening situation than to come under the suspicion of one of the cold-eyed inquisitors of the Order of the Shroud.
  
• Nosirus: Nosirus is the god of the moon and night. He is a sly and untrustworthy deity and his purview is often considered deeds best left unmentioned. For this reason it is often considerd ill-luck for a child to be born under a new moon. IN this instance, parents will often make generous donations to the Temple of Nosirus (usually the only time they receive donations) to persuade him to release the soul of the child so they can make their own way.
  
• Surt: Surt is the shining god of the sun and was once worshiped as the primary deity of the empire. As a living embodiment of the sun, Surt was believed to be the source of all good in the world. His temple remains a powerful organization and it is rare to find anyone in old imperial lands that does not give thanks to Surt often.
  
• Temrian: Temrian is the lord of the sky and bringer of storms. He is sometimes depicted as a four-armed god, representing the four winds. Although he is an elemental force, his temple maintains good relations with others and he is very well respected among the rural folk. His templars are special in that they are afflicted with a rare malady that causes them to lose control of their tempers and take on the raging characteristics of a roaring thunderhead in battle.
  
• Viator: Viator is a somewhat difficult god to describe, as his portfolio is rather complex. Ostensibly the patron of travel and communication, his purview extends to roads and riverways, as well as language and messengers. Strangely enough however, his other activities in the divine realm have also marked him as as Lord of gambling and luck. Needless to say this has also made him a popular figure with criminals and even adventurers.

These gods are the old pantheon and, although still widely worshiped, have been supplanted by a montheistic cult since the fall of the empire. The next post I will dedicate to expanding on this last and most powerful imperial god; Maskius.

Barbaric Races

Barbaric Races

• Coleopteran: The Coleopterans are an unusual people. They are giant intelligent beetles, they live in giant underground communities that are models of peace and communal harmony. Coleopterans do not have a police force because they have no criminals. For this reason Thief is not an class available for them.
  
• Corpse-Eater: The Corpse-Eater is not a species as we understand them. They have no communities of their own. Instead they are only found as individuals in human communities. Because of their hideous appearance and unsavory eating habits they rarely settle in one place for long. Corpse-Eaters are pitiable figures, they are hated and reviled but have no ability to curb their macabre appetites.
  
• Dark One: Elder things are not well understood by the population in general, but even so a Dark One would be well advised to disguise their true nature.
  
• Half-Orc: There is a long history of conflict on the eastern borders of the old empire between men and the orcish hordes. One of the less well-known results of this conflict is the half-orc chidren left behind after a town is sacked. More often than not these half-breeds are raised in the human town until adulthood. Sometimes they absorb their neighbors hatred of orckind and become crusaders for the empire, sometimes they are embittered by years of mistreatment and run off in search of a band of orc marauders to join. However a lifetime in a farming village is often poor training for an orcish warrior and these would be raiders find that they are not welcome anywhere.
  
• Infernal: Infernals have a difficult road in the empire, no matter how virtuous and law-abiding they are always the first to be blamed when something goes wrong. For this reason many infernals choose to fulfill all of the prejudices of their unsophisticated accusers. Alternately sometimes they choose instead to distance themselves from a normal life and wander the land in search of adventure and profit.
  
• Elder Spawn: Elder Spawn face much the same difficulty as Dark Ones except to a greater degree because they give off an unnatural aura that anyone around them can sense.
  
• Half-Ogre: Half-Ogres are usually raised in orphanages in imperial lands because their mothers rarely survive the birthing process. They are usually given into the care of the local Duke and trained as a man-at-arms.
  
• Lizard Man: Lizard men are a race of barbarous creatures that can be found in small chiefdoms throughout the lands of the old empire. Although they can be dangerous when provoked, they are not always hostile and some tribes have even established friendly relations with imperial communities. For this reason Lizard men are treated with suspicion but not outright hatred.
  
• Wildman: Wildmen are a race of undeveloped savages that live in small family bands deep in the wilderness of the old empire. They are not generally aggressive and are usually tolerated by imperials. On the rare occasion when a Wildman chooses to leave his family and enter the greater world they are highly prized as fighters by adventuring parties for their great physical strength and inability to count accurately.
  

Civilized Races

Civilized Races

• Dwarf: The dwarves are a proud people that live in mountain freeholds. Although they all nominally live under the authority of a High King who rules the great undergound city of Kazar-Hek (High Mountain in Dwarvish) each freehold has its own ruler and are in reality quite independent. There are dwarven communities throughout the world and it is not uncommon at all to see a dwarf or party of dwarfs in human lands. Dwarfs can realistically take any class except barbarian, although swashbucklers, druids, and wizards are rare.
• High Elf: The High Elves are those elves who live on the Isles of Ambrenur in the Middle Sea, or at least their descendents. High Elves have the oldest civilization in history and are understandably proud of that fact. Even though they have not held sway on the continent for the entire span of recorded human history, they still feel that the empire was merely a passing thing and they will soon enough reestablish their dominion. High Elves can also use any class except barbarian, as behaving in such a way would be beneath them. Even so, High Elves dislike being overburdened and prefer the subtlety of the swashbuckler to the brute force of the knight.
• Mountain Elf: Mountain Elves are descendents of ancient rebels from Ambrenur. These people disagreed with the spiritual direction of the Elders and refused to submit, instead accepting exile in the wildlands. Today there are hidden Mountain Elf communes throughout the great mountain ranges of the world that stand as monuments to their devotion to their spirit guides. Mountain Elves do not recognize the primacy of the Elven Pantheon and instead practice a form of Animism that includes nature and elemental spirits, as well as beings of a more Ethereal nature.
• Sea Elf: Sea Elves are the bastard cousin of the Elven family. They are not spoken of in polite company as they are not a true subspecies but are merely an advantageous mutation, or even a crossbreeding with some unnamed amphibious people. They are not treated kindly by most elves but are the most common elves seen in the lands of the old empire. Couple that with their gregarious (for elves) nature and they are by far the most well-liked of the elven offshoots.
• Winged Elf: The winged elf is not a subspecies at all, but an expression in physical form of the favor of an elven Deity. Some Elves are noticed by higher powers, and when that happens in dramatic enough fashion they can be chosen to be the living avatars of their patrons will. However, it is important to note that once this gift is given, it cannot be undone short of death. Few Elves are so recognized but fewer still are those that can live up to the promise inherent and often those that fail can become twisted by bitterness and regret.
• Wood Elf: The wood elf is a member of a lost colony of elves that were abandoned in the distant mists of time. They lost a great deal of their Elf heritage in the intervening centuries and no longer consider themselves connected to Ambrenur and instead spend all of their time fiercely guarding their forested sanctuaries from all invaders, whether greenskin or human.
• Gnome: The Gnomes are a jovial people that came from a hardy hill folk deep in the center of the continent. The became involved with the first dwarven empire and learned metalcrafting and other learning from them. Since then they have settled into their hilltop villages and have become renowned the world over for the fantastical and intricate creations they can fashion from even the most mundane of materials.
• Celestial: The Celestial is a cursed individual. Because of the dark times, all people turn to their gods to see them through, and imagine their joy when a personal representative of the Almighty shows up in the flesh. Nevermind that they were just on their way to the tavern after working in the local counting house, obviously it is the will of the divine that they be here to help someone out with something. On the plus side, Celestials accused of assault are rarely convicted.
• Infused: Infused are a common enough occurence that most people that aren't complete rubes can accept them at face value. Depending on the actual elemental nature of the person, they can have a tendency towards different professions.
• Halfling: Halflings were lucky that they developed in the center of what would grow to become the empire, far away from any ravaging monsters. Because of their long interaction with humans, halflings have become a subculture within human society and you can find their communites dotted throughout human lands. Halfling individuals and families are very common in human towns and cities as well and they are not considered unusual in any way.
• Dragon Blooded: The Dragon Blooded live apart from the empire in their own country to the northeast. Their appearance and aggressiveness have not made them well liked in general, but the are honorable to a fault so are usually accepted in human territory. Their home is said to be a great city built at the foot of a smoldering volcano far to the northeast.
• Cat-People: Cat-people were a nomadic people encountered when the empire was first expanding. Normally the empire would have barely noticed them in the march towards progress but for some reason most humans find them pleasant company, some inappropriately so. Given also the Cat-peoples insatiable curiosity and it was not long before the nomadic bands were gone and in their place a small urban minority of furry imperial citizens.

Class examples

• Barbarian: Barbarians will be relatively easy to fit in. There are two main groupings of barbarian peoples in this world, those from the West and those from the North. Because I don't want to complicate things and I want everyone to have a good idea of how to behave (and what accents to use) The western barbarians are culturally similar to the Celtic peoples and the Northern barbarians are more Germanic in nature. Although there is some tension between barbarians and imperials, for the most part there is a thread of common humanity uniting them and barbarian characters will be welcome in imperial territory (although they might be watched a little closer than a good honest local).
• Bard: All the cultures in this world have something of a bardic tradition. Whether it be the beloved true bards of the western people, the respected skalds of the north, or the romantic poets of the empire. Even the near human peoples are known to have minstrels and silver-tongued adventuring wordsmiths.
• Cleric: This world has a rich religious tradition and many gods are venerated across the known world. I will post later about the different pantheons but for now it is enough to know that there will be gods of the West and North worshiped by the barbarian priests, a separate pantheon for Elves and Dwarfs, and an imperial cult with a full array of deities, although the primary god of the empire was and remains Maskius, the Lord of Knowledge and the spreader of civilization.
• Druid: Druids are available for play both from barbarian cultures and from the empire, as the urban culture of the old empire has fallen into neglect and most people even in the center of the old provinces live in a much wilder setting than ever before. I will touch on the various nature gods and spirits in a later post.
• Holy Warrior: Holy Warriors are available that swear to a specific god of a given pantheon, but there are also those who swear not to a specific deity, but to a Holy Order that pursues a particular cause and calls on multiple deities for their blessing.
• Knight: Knights are of course ubiquitous , they can be both aristocratic warriors, brutal dockside thugs, or hardened mercenaries. As the saying goes, "Men with swords never starve."
• Martial Artist: To the east of Ostwin, across the Sea of Armagh there lies a tiny mountainous country whose people have long suffered under the depredations of the monstrous races. Because they lived in so blighted a land, they never had the luxury of devoting resources to supporting and equipping warriors, instead they learned to protect themselves and their families with what they had; their hands and feet, or at most simple farming implements. Often these practitioners will find reason to travel away from their homes in search of riches or even enlightenment.
• Scout: The scout is, like the knight, a very easy class to fit in anywhere. Any culture, from the empire or abroad can justify acting as a scout.
• Swashbuckler: Being that the city of Ostwin sits on the Middle Sea, a tradition of fighting has evolved that relies not on power and weight of armor, but on speed and grace. This was originally a seafarer's fighting style because being weighted down by 50lbs of chainmail when you get tipped over the side is a bad idea. But since its inception many a young noble has been entranced by the swaggering dockside bravos and sought to emulate both the method of swordsmanship but also the outrageous self-confidance of the swashbuckler.
• Thief: Times are hard, and no one should be consigned to a life of backbreaking labor and bland food that has the talent to avoid it. Thieves are endemic in the city of Ostwin simply because half of the city is in ruins and the other half is poorly guarded.
• Wizard: Much knowledge has been lost since the fall of the empire, but there are those groups and individuals who seek both to preserve the knowledge of a time lost and to push back new boundaries with the learning of magic. Ostwin is home to one of the few remaining human magical colleges, it also maintains diplomatic and trade relations with the High Elves, originators of the arts and still the acknowledged masters of its practice.

Background information

Without getting too in depth (this is dungeon fantasy after all)...

Many hundreds of years ago there was a mighty empire that spanned a continent. It brought the shining light of human civilization to the benighted corners of the world and held sway over all the lands. But all was not well, despite the might of its armies and the virtue of its people, there was a rot at the core of the empire. None now alive know the cause of this cancer, but it spread and spread until the very foundation of the empire collapsed under the weight of its own decadence.

Into the vacuum flowed all of the empires enemies, barbaric tribes from the North and West looking to subjugate the peaceful people of the empire. Worse, dark forces that had been though eradicate were on the move. Merely bidding their time after their ancient defeats, from the East great hordes of foul monsters, goblinkin, and undead. Lead by shadowy figures only glimpsed at in the dreams of madmen.

Now it falls to you, heroes, who have come to the ancient city of Ostwin on the shores of the Middle Sea, last bastion of the empire and only haven for mankind, to go out and combat this menace, find them in their lairs and exterminate them as the vermin that they are, find the treasures of a lost age and bring about a flowering of civilization not known since the world was young.