Kyuad's Stuff he knows
***EYES ONLY*** This is a specialized "lorebook" of all things that would be immediately available (without skill checks) for the character. Things will be posted as they come up or are asked about. Players other than this character SHOULD NOT read this information.
Players can and SHOULD add to this page the things they KNOW from the stories and events they've been in. Please break it down into the sections noted below - Feel free to add sections as you like.
You may also ask for any information, and based on situation or skill checks that info will/or will not be placed on this page.
Contents
PEOPLE
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PLACES
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THINGS
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HISTORY
Erenlanders
For more than 2,000 years, the Northman descendants of the Dorns and the colonial Sarcosans have lived together as two cultures unified by military, commercial, and royal alliance under the single banner of the nation of Erenland. In that time, they have also become kin through friendship and family. From the southern coast of the Pelluria to the shores of the Ardune, the peoples of both races have interbred and intermarried for so long that a new race of true Erenlanders has been born. These people are a handsome mix of their forebears. Not as large or pale skinned as their Dorn parents nor as slight or dark as their Sarcosan ancestors, their colorations and builds vary widely. They are a transitional people between both Erenland’s northern and southern regions as well as its past and future. Erenlanders are the true children of their kingdom, a people born of two ancient traditions but owing loyalty instead to one young nation. Though different settlements, and even different families, hold more strongly to some Sarcosan or Dornish traditions, most Erenlanders sense they are truly a unique people, something other than simply the combination of their ancestries. Erenlanders have long been left to their own wit and strength in settling the central plains, and as a result are a crafty and inventive people with independent and pragmatic natures. Though the often proud behavior of their pureblooded Dorn and Sarcosan countrymen may make the Erenlanders seem disloyal or uninspired by comparison, this is not the case. Erenlanders simply do not feel bound to their ancestors’ traditions and so are not limited by Dornish or Sarcosan social mores, expectations, or taboos. This has served them well under the Shadow; because they are not paralyzed by the loss of a long ancestral heritage, they have been better able than the other human cultures to simply adapt and carry on. Though the lack of cultural restriction means Erenlanders have greater social freedom, that freedom is not without greater social cost. Whereas respect for the past and hatred of the Shadow bind the Dornish houses and Sarcosan liegemen to their people, the Erenlanders have no such guiding lights or sense of unity. Indeed, it may have been their diluted loyalties that made many Erenlander communities fertile soil for Izrador’s dark seeds in the Second and Third Ages. It is yet to be seen whether the Erenlanders of the Last Age will devolve into a directionless, broken people, or will rise above the suspicions and betrayal of their time and unite the two bloodlines, north and south, Dorn and Sarcosan, that created them.
Elves
The elves are more like the elder fey than any of the other fey races of Eredane, both physically and culturally. They are a slight race, lithe, quick, and agile. They are all children of nature, and even with their ancient culture and powerful magic, they still live close to the wilds as part of the Great Forest. They are a unified people, allied not only to tribes or family groups but instead to a single royal line that rules over all of Erethor. The racial devotion to their High Queen Aradil is akin to worship, and though there is a large and powerful Council of the Throne, it seldom opposes Aradil’s will. Despite this greater shared history and culture, there remain various subraces of elvenkind, each with its own unique physical traits and ways of life.
Caransil (Wood Elves)
The elves of central Erethor, the Caransil or wood elves, are the most widespread and familiar of the woodland fey. They range from the southern Highhorns, eastward to the Plains of Eris Aman and the Westlands, and south to the Aruun Jungle. Their skin is the beautiful brown of ino tree wood, and their hair tends to be long, shiny, and black. Their eyes are large and dark, and they are the tallest of the elves. They wear a variety of clothes, from the dark and mottled camouflage leathers of a scout’s kit to the sunset brilliance of a courtier’s elaborate silks. These elves live in enormous maudrial, or homewood, trees that have been coaxed to grow in elegant but useful domestic shapes by age-old spells. The Caransil eat mostly fruits, vegetables, nuts, and seeds. They supplement their diets with rabbits and grouse raised in family hutches and with river fish from the Gamaril and Felthera. The wood elves are traditionally the artists, philosophers, and craftsmen of Erethor. They are also the lineage from which have come the greatest sorcerers and battle mages of recent times. Their warriors carry longbows and longswords.
Danisil (Jungle Elves)
These elves of the southern reaches of Erethor, where temperate forest gives way to tropical jungle, are small, slight, and ebony skinned. Historians speculate that they may be the elven line from which the halflings were born. The uninitiated consider the Danisil “feral elves,” but their culture is as sophisticated as that of their cousins. Many of Erethor’s most powerful druids are of the Danisil lineage. Their hair is dark and coarse and typically worn in short dreadlocks. Their eyes are black and so narrow that the whites barely show. They dress in loose shorts and brightly painted vests, but when hunting, they wear only layers of river mud to hide them from both sight and scent. Adults typically adorn their faces and arms with strangely beautiful patterns of ritualistic scarring. The scars are said to frighten away evil spirits. The Danisil live in boa-bil groves along the many small rivers of the Aruun Jungle. Their druids enchant vines to form large slings that suspend their tiny huts high in the jungle canopy. They live off the fruits of the forest but are also cunning hunters. They are good fishermen and use fleets of delicate canoes to fish and hunt along their rivers. The jungle elves have mastered the use of poison arrows and have developed several toxic elixirs uniquely effective against orcs. They also carry wide curved fighting knives called sepi. Izrador’s invaders learned long ago to fear these ugly little blades, but have little need to venture into the dark Aruun; the fell demons of that place fight on Izrador’s behalf without the dark god having to expend a single soldier.
QUOTES, MYTHS, LEGENDS, STORIES, AND BELIEFS
The destiny of the world is Shadow. — Anonymous note penned in the margin of the Academy’s Commentaries
The Hero
All my life, I’ve looked up to Eanos, our village smith. Eanos towers over every other man in the village. In a show of strength, on midsummer's eve, he lifts the round stones in the village square over his head and heaves them a full three lengths of his body. The other men can’t even lift one, let alone throw it.
Eanos is always the first man up when there’s work to be done and there is nothing he can’t fix with the strength of his body and the tools he’s been allowed to keep. The orcs constantly bait him, ready to test their strength against his, but he never rises to their taunts. It’s clear that the local legate despises him, but Eanos has never given him cause to vent his wrath until now.
Four days ago, a traveling tinker came to town bearing news and small items for barter. He had healing salves for burns and red rash that we desperately needed. He offered to give us the salves if Eanos would repair a small chopping axe and a handful of metal tools. Eanos knew the laws forbade use of the forge without permission, but he saw no harm in repairing simple tools. The tinker was a spy, sent to lure Eanos into violating the law. The legate and the tinker, with almost a dozen fully armed orcs, came for Eanos just after dawn. The penalty for his crimes was 30 lashes. Eanos, who could easily snap the legate's neck, walked meekly to the wooden post hammered into the center of the village green. He gripped it while the orcs leaned into each lash. Eanos screamed but never let go of the post. When it was over, we washed his wounds as best we could and carried him to his bed. It’s been three days and he still hasn't regained the strength in his left arm and some doubt that he ever will.
The Covenant
The wars with Izrador spawned many great heroes from all the races. The memory of these champions helps to keep the faith among human insurgents and inspire fey defenders who still battle the Shadow today, and some say the strength they gave in the fight against Izrador persists in the weapons they used.
Aio the Light Foot survived the razing of his village, but everyone and everything he loved was taken that night. Aio was given as a slave to a wealthy legate who wanted a halfling slave to cook his meals. He played the part, but learned to pick the lock on his collar. He stole a knife from the kitchens and snuck into the sleeping orc camps nearby. By the time he left an hour later, there were nine orcs dead in their bedrolls. Aio’s nightly forays continued for several weeks and word quickly spread of his stealth and prowess. Aio himself was eventually captured and executed, yet his blade has found its way into the hands of captive halflings ever since so that they might enact justice upon their captors.
Born and Bred
Couthlin wrinkled his nose at the rank smell. The odors of sweat, blood, and less polite bodily fluids wafted up to him as he strolled on the elevated walkway. The commoners milled about below in their usual mindless herd.
“Civilized!”
The large canine creature preceding him stopped and looked up at him, cocking his head in confusion. The legate frowned and kept walking, yanking on the chain attached to its collar.
“Stupid beast. No, they are not civilized. I was exclaiming in disbelief. Being facetious. Go back to your sniffing.” The astirax-possessed hound obligingly returned to scenting the air.
The legate frowned. It was pathetic that he had to rely on one-way communication with a magic-hunting beast. His skills at dialogue and manipulation would be all but blunted by the time he returned to Theros Obsidia. Asnort from the astirax snapped Couthlin from his thoughts. The canine form was watching a passing figure below, quite intently. Couthlin’s dark eyes.followed as well, noticing a suspicious narrow shape jutting out from beneath the figure’s cloak. Roughly hilt-shaped. “A weapon...magical?” he asked in a hushed tone. The astirax growled in assent.
“Then follow,” Couthlin said eagerly, releasing the chain. “Return to me at the temple when you’ve tracked the criminal to his lair.”
The beast slunk into the shadows and trotted after the offending figure...towards its demise, Couthlin hoped. The mage-hunting beast had been witness to too many of Couthlin’s intrigues and coups. The mercenary it now trailed had agreed quickly to his terms: kill the astirax in exchange for the sword the legate had given him.
Meanwhile, below, the astirax salivated in anticipation. The scent of magic was heavy in the air...not just from the sword, but from at least a few enchanted crossbow bolts. All of them aimed at the walkway above, where his master walked.
Rather, his former master
Prophecies of the Last Age
"I saw that the Host of Heaven was dark and rode no more in the sky. The icy gates of the land of the dead were opened, and the fallen god rode forth with a crown of iron and a sword of flame. His raiment bled the blood of the innocent and he smote all the lands of the world. His form was of fire and shadow, and his name was Sorrow." — Vesra Anu, Prophecies of the Last Age
The Tithe
At dawn the headman woke us and told us it was time. The whole village lined up along the edge of the cornfield, which was strewn with cut stalks and the debris of the harvest. It had taken over four days for all the fodder to be gathered and stored for the winter. Nearby, the sheep and boro pens were full of animals noisily calling for their breakfasts. In the village, the windows and doors of every house were flung open and the hearths were cold; today was the day of the tithe. We stood there, in a line, for over three hours before they arrived. The legate rode in on the lead wagon with his guards; eight wagons in all filed into the village. The headman, head bowed, approached the legate and announced our willingness to provide the tithe to the Dark God. With a grunt and a wave of his hand, the legate dismissed the headman and sent the orcs into the houses and barns. Almost immediately, there were sounds of breaking furniture. I heard screams, and the sounds of people being hurt. I ignored it. It was better not to hear. Women buried their heads in their husbands' chests as they tried to stifle their tears. Then the orcs came and grabbed men to start loading the wagons; it was well past midday when the loading was done. Seven out of ten parts of the harvest were loaded on the wagons. An equal amount of animals were also taken, bleating in fear as they were tethered to wagons for the trip back to the city of Bastion.
When they were done the legate announced the Dark God's blessing on us and commented on the wisdom of our headman for not trying to hide any of the harvest. The legate reminded us that the Dark God only punishes those who are disloyal.
PORTAL | THE SOUTHIES | DURGAZ | ERANON | ZAL'KAZZIR | KYUAD / Bill
