Kyuad's Lorebook

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Kyuad's lorebook is a collection of notes he's taken as he's studied and experienced life. It doesn't have a strong theme yet, nor has it aided him in any great and impressive deeds.

Important Entries

The Chimera

This creature was being held captive by Possiogn when encountered at ShadowWall. Other research tells me that the Chimera of legend is from the Aruun, and is said to be the only one. However, the one encountered seems to be a young creature. This strange being looked like a conglomeration of different creatures. It had leathery wings, horns across the spine of its back and shoulders, a long serpentine tail, rear hooves like a horse, front paws like a great cat, and three heads. One head was certainly draconic; the center head was feline, like a tiger or lioness; the third head was that of a goat with dark fur. Each of these faces had a look of fear and intelligence that was disturbing. Overall, the beast was as tall as an elf at the shoulder, as long as a Dorn from neck to shanks, and heavy enough to require two boro to pull the cart.

Aranesil, or Spider-Elf

Rumors abound about a group of dwarves who encountered strange spiders in the Kaladruns with distorted and disturbing elvish body parts. These were black-skinned and seemed to be fused with the spider's body. Something matching this description was being held captive by Possiogn when encountered at ShadowWall. This creature, however, was fearsome in its beauty. The elf body, extant from the pelvis upward, seemed to be growing out of the thorax, in place of the head. With the 8 spider legs and two humanoid arms, it looked fully capable of virtually anything that either origin creature may attempt. Upon dissection, it became clear that the amalgamation did not end at the simple conjoining, but extended to every part of the creature's structure. The eyes were wide and uniformly black, just as with spiders. Within the mouth were found very long, extendable fangs just behind the normal row of teeth. The jaw opened suprisingly wide, making it possible for this creature to bit ahold of any size of creature with fangs that were capable of exuding very caustic poison. The poison sacs were found in the base of the spider torso. Each was slightly larger than a human's head and very full of poison that was capable of dissolving wood and other organic material tested. The poison had a milky white consistancy and smelled of mineral.

When encountered the creature spoke Danisil and seemed to be in agony, requesting that we kill him. We were obliging before it became evident whether he was as naturally capable with magic as his kin of likeness.

Possiogn claimed to have been responsible for the creation of this creature, however this is unlikely. It would be interesting to find more. The sexual dimorphism of elf and spider are opposed - in the amalgamation is it the male or female that is larger? Lacking mammalian reproductive organs, how is fertilization performed?

What to call this creature? Araneae and Danisil make strage compounds. Daneae and Aransil are the easiest, but obviously not ideal, as one is a common name and the other is simply too confusing, as it is a homophone of Erunsil. Danider is an acceptable term, though it sounds casual, and is specific to the Danisil. Arachnisil is perhaps the best option, though it does nothing to differentiate the creature from a possible elf-scorpion abomonation. Therefore, I shall classify these as Aranesil. Common names given to racial specifics are acceptable, such as Danider or Carachnid.

Megartkorvid, or Crow Beast

This creature seems to be a bear-sized flightless bird with a second set of wide talons instead of wings. A creature like this was being held captive by Possiogn when encountered at ShadowWall. According to its appearance it most closely resembles a crow or rook, though with arms instead of wings. Because it also resembles a Roc, and it cannot fly, we have taken to calling them Running Rocs.

The size of the things was remarkable for any bird, and the amount of feathers was astounding, especially since these were each considerably large feathers. The colors around the face of the creature were mostly black, with some brown. Toward the extremities the colors shifted to being more tan. The talons were wide-set and all four were front-facing. The "wing-claws" were similar, though with much longer talons. The feathers of the arms and ruff were longest, though the feathers of the arms were not long enough or situated in such a way as to make flight easy (or possible, perhaps) for the creature. The bill was long and very thick, with a slight downward curve. This was black, with a ridge of pale brown along the center of the peak. These appeared very worn on the ends, either meaning a poor diet or that they frequently encountered metal or stone. The eyes were set just behind the beak on either side of the head, which would give it monocular vision.

The creatures attacked by running on its legs and setting down from time to time onto its front legs for stability. The length of the front talons most likely made using the front legs for running difficult. While running it spread the front legs out wide in an impressive display, though it never seemed to gain any loft as other birds do.

The feathers seem to exude a sort of dark magical aura, and cause uneasiness. Undoubtedly the creatures are formed of magic.


Craigth

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The Ruinous Dance of the Brakkilorg

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Lolth, sister of Aradil

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Ossyon

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The Obsidian Spire and the Sinister Glade

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Dire Alliance of the Dead Marshes

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Nature of the Splinter Steed

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On Natural Mirrors

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Woodland Marks of the Elven Watchers

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Origins of The Sunder Shard

It is told that Vrolk travelled beneath the Spine of the World and back again with terrible artifacts and ideas to build his fortress of death. Hellish deals were made under the mountains, two of the most powerful artifacts he came away with were the Cadaverous Eye and the Sunder Shard. The Eye is all but unknown, however the Sunder Shard is said to have been the seed that grew the black tower in the Dead Marsh.

This Sunder Shard could possibly be from one of two origins, according to Kyuad's studies...


#1. The fact that the Vile gathered it from beneath the Kaldrune Mts. suggests that it is possible that it is related to the things that dwell in the deep... Many terrible things lay in the dark far below in the recesses between rock and Dwarven mines. Their is told tales of the Slumberer, a foul beast old as the mountain itself. It sleeps in the depths below the old city of Moria, feared even by the dark denizens that infest the ancient city buried in the ash and bone of the men of stone who died when the greatest Dwarven city fell. The Shard could be an artifact of volcanic means, a rock which is a type of naturally occurring glass, produced by volcanoes when a felsic lava cools rapidly and freezes without sufficient time for crystal growth. It is found only within the margins of felsic lava flows, where cooling is more rapid. The Slumberer Beneath the Spine of the World nests within this felsic lava flow and as it writhes in hate the Shard may have been formed. The Shard like basalt would be dark because of ferromagnesian enrichment. Obsidian is mineral-like, but not a true mineral because it is not crystalline. Its composition is very similar to that of granite and rhyolite. Because obsidian is metastable at the Aryth's surface. over time the glass becomes fine-grained mineral crystals), no obsidian has been found that is older than the pre-Sundering. If such a Shard were taken it conceivably could be magically worked to grow into such as thing as the black spike knows as the Obsidan Spire.
It is called "Sunder Shard" due to the fact that something that happened during or post-Sundering seemed to have made these mystical materials exist...


#2. A second educated theory would be that the Shard is somewhat less unique but equally as mystical. In difference this theory focuses on the Shard as Tektites (Elven for the Scar glass) which are natural glass objects, up to a few centimeters in size, which were rumored to have been formed by the impact causing the Scar in the Northern Marches when the Shadow fell. Tektites are obsidian shards produced by the lunar volcanic eruptions exposed on the Sundering, though few scientists are able to fathom this hypothesis. Tektites are among the "driest" rocks, with an average water content of 0.005%. This is very unusual, as most if not all of the craters where tektites may have formed were underwater/snow-ice before impact. This suggests that the tektites were formed under phenomenal temperature and pressure. An (unnoted) Sarcoson scientist's terrestrial-impact theory states that the impact melted material from Aryth's surface and catapulted it up to several hundred miles away from the impact site. The molten material cooled and solidified to glass. This impact theory states, tektites cannot be found everywhere on Aryth's surface. They are only found in strewnfields, which are associated with known impact craters. How it would have come to the Vile's attention from the peoples/things under the Spine of the World are unknown. Regardless this Shard would likely have similar makeup of the felsic shards noted above...
It is called "Sunder Shard" due to the fact that these materials seem to have been created as a direct result of the Shadow's fall to Aryth...


Study of the Undead

Undead of Aryth

Izrador’s high priest, Sunulael, is himself an undead creature, but not a randomly risen Fell. He is the product of Izrador’s corrupting will, an eternal creature of jealousy and ambition, something unlike the others. All the other undead of the world have their origins in Izrador, and most came seeking him in order to extend their lives and grow their power. There are rituals known only to Izrador and his high legates that can bestow undeath on a creature, willing or not. Different rituals produce different undead—vampires, ghosts and that known as lich — all of whom reach the other side with new powers, new perceptions, and a complete and utter devotion to Izrador’s cause. For the most part, Izrador leaves these new servants to their own devices, secure in the knowledge that even as they fulfill the desires that led them to this choice they will also be furthering his goals. Sunulael often demands a period of service from those he transforms, and it is hoped that the commanders among his undead army at Cambrial may, if the offensive is stalled long enough, eventually desert his service. If such desertion can be timed just right, it could turn the tide of the war in Erethor toward the forces of good.

Cambrial is the nexus for undead in the world, and the groaning of its mindless denizens can be heard for 20 miles or more on clear nights. Those who wish to undergo the transformation into intelligent undead most often journey there to meet with Sunulael, an event that in and of itself maddens those with weak minds. Of those who survive the mere presence of the Priest of Shadow, many falter in their decisions. No matter to Sunulael, however—they are marked to become mindless slaves and sent to the front lines in Erethor. Those who persevere are rewarded with the curse of eternal undeath and subservience to Izrador. Their minds are scoured by the dark god, but left relatively intact, and then they are sent on their way. Cambrial was once one of the largest cities in southern Erenland and home to a vibrant, mixed-race population. Among the Sarcosan majority lived Erenlanders, Northmen, elven traders, and even a few city-dwelling halflings. Even in the dark days at the end of the Third Age, the city remained a center for interracial trade and was known throughout the southlands as the home of Sarcosan wizardry. When the Shadow’s forces took southern Erenland, they attacked and razed Cambrial as a demonstration of their power and ruthlessness. They killed all who did not flee, filling the city’s streets with blood. At the command of the Night Kings, the bodies were purposefully left untended and soon every last one rose as Fell. Neither time nor decay seemed to diminish the undead horde’s numbers and many believe it is the black magic of Izrador that maintain them. Perhaps charmed by their tenacity, the Night King known as the Priest of Shadow has made Cambrial his most common lair, within which new undead monstrosities are constantly being born from the City of Dead and the Obsidian Spire as well. In the century since its fall, so many of the foul creatures continued to haunt the place that the ruins of Cambrial came to be known as the City of the Dead. The settlement and its environs have become so dangerous that even orc legions stay well clear of the region, if they can. Unfortunately, the Priest of Shadow and his legate servants require guards, servants, supplies, and all the other trappings of a community, so Sarcosans and Erenlanders are commonly rounded up and replanted in the various keeps and secured buildings of Cambrial, forced to do their best to raise food and meet their masters’ needs while avoiding the often uncontrolled Fell and other, more powerful undead that roam the ruined sections of the city and its outskirts. No more than 1,000 humans and halflings live here at any given time . . . though that number begins dropping from the moment a “fresh” shipment of transplants arrives, and must be supplemented every few years. No one knows how many undead roam the city and its environs, but those few who have escaped the place alive say that they must outnumber the living by a ratio of ten to one, at least.

Across Aryth, the more common undead creatures are each actually part of a continuum of decay and corruption, both physical and spiritual. While undead once existed on Aryth thanks to the normal means of restless spirits and foul necromancy, the Sundering caused them to be far more common thanks to a corruption of the natural cycle. Whereas once all souls ascended to some higher place or joined the spirits of their ancestors as part of the Eternal, now they are trapped, either in body or in spirit, to the world that birthed them, unable to pass the veil brought down by the Sundering.


The Price of Death

With nowhere to go, the spirits of the dead far too often remain tethered to their bodies or emerge as the Lost, dangerous incorporeal undead with an unpredictable but often dangerous attitude towards the living. When a creature of aberration, dragon, giant, humanoid, magical beast, or monstrous humanoid and a suitable amount of intelligence, will and drive to survive, the soul of the deceased can possibly depart its body and vanish into the maelstrom of trapped but harmless spirits that wreath the world of Aryth like an incorporeal halo. When the stars are right the deceased is doomed to rise as Fell in less than a week unless it is beheaded or its body is destroyed by fire. There is a small/unlikely chance that the unfortunate soul may rise immediately, and despite whatever lethal wounds may be evident, the newly undead may be completely unaware that he has just been killed. Companions may even try to aid their fallen friend, but these efforts prove useless and it will not be long before those companions realize something is very wrong. In extremely rare occurances something potentially worse happens. Regardless of the how the body is disposed of, it becomes destined to rise as a tormented shade, one of the Lost, within a year of the person’s death. The dead creature rises as a ghost if its mind is right; otherwise, it rises as some other form of incorporeal undead.


The Spirits of Aryth

There is howling wind of unseen forces that encircle Aryth. It is everywhere and nowhere at once, and it is formed by what the people of the world call spirits. Some spirits have always been there, a disembodied, nearly divine group of creatures, or perhaps a single creature, called the Eternal, as well as lesser spirits like fey creatures and elementals. Those who work magic have always been aware of these spirits— they have used them as soldiers, bound them into their artifacts, and even called upon them for knowledge and guidance. It wasn’t until the Sundering, however, that the spirits became as real to most residents of Aryth as the sun, sky, and ground beneath them. With the Sundering, a wall came down across Aryth, blocking it from the other planes. Many of the creatures trapped by that event, with no other form to take and with no afterlife or other worlds to move on to, have become spirits. There are now three types of spirits throughout Aryth, whether they are the dead souls of the once living, refugee extraplanar visitors who cannot find their way home, or eternal elemental forces who have resided on Aryth since its creation.


Interacting with Spirits

Other than via spells and the actions of other, similar creatures, spirits are for all intents and purposes removed from the physical world of Aryth. Normal men and women cannot affect them, and spirits in their natural state cannot affect normal men and women. A bodiless spirit’s presence can be revealed by divination spells and a spell of force effect would affect a spirit, but a fireball would not, and no spells cast by spirits in their bodiless forms affect the physical world in any way. Spirits would seem to be ideal spies, whether for Izrador or his foes. However, just as spirits cannot be detected, neither can they, under most circumstances, see or detect any details regarding the living. Time, place, and distance have little meaning to spirits, and getting spirits to convey meaningful information about what they’ve seen is quite difficult. Each type of spirit has a particular interest in and ability to observe specific things in the physical world; for instance, outsider spirits notice the life forces of other creatures with particular clarity, while elemental spirits are naturally attracted to the elements to which they are attuned.


The Eternal

Eternal spirits are those powers that are beyond the sight and knowledge even of the spellcasters of Aryth. They do not affect the material world, nor does it affect them, unless they will it. They are beyond even the power of Izrador and his legates to control. By the same token, though they are supposedly able to wreck havoc and destruction upon the material world at their whim, they rarely seem to do so, and the actions attributed to their wrath could just as easily be poor luck or violent weather as the actions of the Eternal. Most of the souls of the dead who have joined with the weave of life and magic of Aryth can be said to have joined the Eternal, and benevolent nature spirits worshipped by everyone from the elves to the halflings are also examples eternal spirits.

  • The Whisper of the great forest of Erethor is perhaps the largest of the Eternal, spanning the entirety of the Witch Queen’s wood and composed of the souls of hundreds of thousands of deceased elves.


The Trapped

Whether as messengers of the gods or visitors from other planes, extraplanar visitors have always walked on the face of Aryth. They arrived in forms newly made from the fabric of creation and the magic of Aryth, and if and when they were killed by violence, their spirits returned from whence they came. Others, like creatures with the fey or elemental types, were considered natives of Aryth, though their birthrights were far from mundane. Hundreds of thousands of these extraplanar entities were present on Aryth when the Sundering occurred, and twice as many were banished there along with Izrador when he fell, either due to their association with him or due to the accident of being caught up in the devastating pull that sent him hurtling from the heavens. Regardless of the means by which they arrived, all such creatures that were not present on Aryth at the moment of the Sundering had no bodies of their own, and so were left screaming and formless as spirits. Others became spirits when their corporeal bodies were destroyed by time or violence, and a rare few may still exist in their original bodies. All of these creatures, whatever their means of arrival and current states, are called the Trapped.


The Lost

Even those that die and are lucky enough to be spared the fate of rising as Fell are still unable to reach heaven through the murky Veil brought down during Izrador’s banishment. A further travesty is that many of these unfortunate souls are still unable to rest quietly. Instead, they rise as haunts and shades, cursed to roam the place of their death or familiar locations from their lives. These ghosts are the Lost, and they live a half existence only semi-aware of what has happened to them, confused and trapped in a limbo somewhere between the physical and celestial realms. Like the Fell, ghosts are traumatized by their own deaths but the effects are more varied. These haunts are not driven by bloody hunger but instead follow often-cryptic or bizarre motivations that reflect parts of their past personalities. Many suffer insanities upon death that drive them to malevolent and violent acts. Others remain motivated by the things that moved them in life and can be coherent or even benevolent at times. Unlike the Fell, the Lost do not have the release of eventually decaying away to dust but face eternity in their horrific states. Instead, what passes for minds in these spirits degrade, spiraling slowly into incomprehensibility and insanity. In the end, even the ghosts of the most kind and potent souls become dim and dangerous shadows of what they once were. As the years pass and the veil between the heavens and Aryth remains, the frequency of incorporeal undead haunting the realm of the living increases. It is an uncommon person that is lucky enough not to have been haunted by the shade of a deceased ancestor, and a rare traveler that has not been driven from his camp by the chilling wail of a Lost soul.

  • Those spirits that haunted "Satan Rock" could be concluded to be some type of twisted Lost.


The Fell

Shambling figures of sinew-covered bones, hung with tatters of dried flesh, red eyes glinting in a broken skull... There are many dangers across Aryth, but few as foul and horrifying as the Fell. When Izrador’s fall severed the bond between heaven and the mortal world, it did more than sever the connection between the gods and their faithful. It also trapped the souls of all future dead in the material realm, preventing their ascension to the celestial kingdom. Whether by happenstance or because of some malicious magics on Izrador’s part, one of the terrible consequences of this reality has been that the souls of the newly dead are often unable to leave their bodies, remaining tied to them and doomed to walk the land as horrible undead abominations. These unfortunate, fearsome, undead monsters are commonly known as the Fell.


Dealing with the Dead... The impact the Fell have on life in Eredane

When the Fell first began to appear, the horrified living quickly learned how to dispose of corpses to keep them dead. Now, though the undead are no less a threat, the races’ various practices of body disposal have become culturally ingrained and greatly reduce their potential numbers.

Humans have assumed the practice of burning their dead. They follow little ceremony, as it is widely believed that the sooner a corpse is ash the safer it is for everyone. The Dorns cremate their kin on open pyres inside circles of tall standing stones until even the bones are consumed. They then cast the ashes about within these ancestor rings, freeing the souls to watch over the living that remain. The Sarcosan colonials also burn their dead, but they collect the ash and mix it with the grain they feed their horses. They believe this passes the finer qualities of the deceased onto the steeds and gives them an extra measure of strength and endurance.

The elves are perhaps the most reverent in disposing of their dead, though the end results are also perhaps the most practical. When an elf dies, his body is covered in a wrapping of mystically prepared living vines and then is taken deep into the forest by a Whisper Adept. The vines secure the body, keeping it subdued even if it should wake as undead, for the adept may travel many days before reaching a location suited to her purpose. When the adept has chosen an appropriate site, she conducts an elaborate ritual that involves burying the body within the roots of a large tree. Over the course of the ritual, the spirit of the deceased passes into the tree and becomes one with the tree’s own essence. The new entity that is formed becomes part of the vast network of spirit tree guardians known as the Whispering Wood.

The halflings enact a somber but gruesome ceremony, removing the heads of their dead and collecting a bowl of blood from the body. They bury the heads and corpses separately beneath plots of prairie sod that have been carefully cut away and replaced undamaged and unmarked. They mix the blood with a recipe of herbs, dry the resulting paste, and grind it into powder. The powder is then placed in sacred cloth bags containing the similar remains of other family members. On the holy days of the halfling celestial calendar, families then burn portions of the powder as incense in offerings to their ancestral spirits.

Gnomes, ever practical and fleshbound to the river, tightly bind the bodies of their dead in coils of ceremonial rope and weigh them down with stones. With brief services featuring improvised group songs about the individuals being interred, the bodies are committed to the waters of the Eren to be judged by the enigmatic river spirit the gnomes call the Watcher. In the river, the bodies sink to the bottom where the natural course of life disposes of the remains and the soul is freed to flow with the water.

Dwarves dig elaborate catacombs in which they entomb their dead. When a dwarf dies, she is laid in a shallow sarcophagus-like pit carved out of the stone floor of the catacomb. A heavy stone slab, often intricately worked by the deceased herself when she lived, is then lowered onto the corpse, crushing it and pinning it to the bottom of the pit. The weight of the slab is sufficient to keep any Fell from actually rising and serves as a kind of memorial on which is typically carved a narrative of the deceased’s life. Though dwarves commonly visit catacombs in hopes of speaking to the shades of their ancestors, only the most stouthearted do so before allowing enough time for the body to decay away. The moans, screams, and curses that sometimes rise from under the crushing stones are often too much for even the bravest to bear. The dwarves believe that by keeping the souls of the dead tethered to their bodies, they encourage the spirits to remain to watch over and protect the realm of the living.

Even the races that serve Izrador are not immune to the unwelcome rise of their own dead. Though many bodies are left to the necromancy of the Night Kings, most goblin-kin and orc dead are dealt with in a gruesome yet morbidly effective way—they are eaten by the living. This practical cannibalism not only assures that the dead do not wake to trouble the living but also provides a valuable food supply within a scavenging culture that suffers a great deal of mortality from constant internal fighting.

As a result of the universally diligent disposal of corpses by all of the cultures of Eredane, most Fell arise either from those slain in battle and left to rot or from the bodies of errant adventurers that die in the wilderness. Killing the Fell is not really possible, in that they are already dead. They can be destroyed, however, by freeing the soul trapped inside the body. Fell are destroyed when their bodies are completely dismembered or consumed by fire or other elemental forces (in other words, if reduced to zero hit points). If not completely destroyed, the Fell continue to function and amble about even if large parts of their bodies are missing. Few sights are as purely horrible as the severed torso of a rotting corpse dragging itself across the ground, jaw snapping with an animal hunger.

Becoming Fell

The initial shock of death and the subsequent realization that one has become undead is a crushing psychological blow and insanity is usually immediate, leading quickly to extreme paranoia, violent rage, and bloodlust. Strong wills may keep these overwhelming impulses at bay, but only for short periods. Fell retain its basic Intelligence and many of its memories, but as its body starts to decay, so does its mind. For every week that passes without feeding, the mental stability decreases greatly. The creature thus decays and gradually loses its intelligence and true sentience, as well as the associated memories and conscious control over its actions. As the creature reaches increasingly loses its mind, it deteriorates into more and more feral states until, eventually, it is nothing more than a walking, eating corpse. From the moment it awakens, a Fell feels a magical craving for the flesh of the living, for only by consuming the living can an undead creature maintain its foul existence. This hunger quickly becomes the driving motivation behind the actions of the Fell and continues to compel it, even after its mind has rotted away. If a Fell consumes a large meal of stillwarm flesh from the body of an intelligent creature at least once per week, it can stave off the decay of its body as well as the rot of its mind. For every week a Fell goes without such a meal, it suffers decay and the associated loss of mental ability scores as described above. Only the flesh of living creatures with similarly potent souls can satiate the hunger of the Fell; an elf that rises as Fell could therefore survive on the flesh of dwarves or goblins but not on the meat of rabbits or bears. Despite their horrific state, the madness of the Fell typically imbues them with a powerful survival instinct, and only the most willful soul can take direct action to destroy, and therefore free, itself. With a strong enough will an undead character can intentionally destroy itself by means of any method that consumes or dismembers its body, such as lighting itself on fire or crushing itself in a rock fall. This sort of action obviously becomes more and more unlikely as the creature’s mind decays and it loses control over its actions. Failure typically results in a period of heightened madness, bloodlust, and a sustained feeding frenzy that can last for days or even weeks.


Nature and Behavior of Fell

Deceased that have recently become Fell are ungral, a High Elven word meaning “tethered dead.” Ungral often appear almost indistinguishable from living creatures, though a violent or debilitating death will typically leave obvious signs. Ungral retain the intelligence they had in life, and not all of them have yet succumbed to evil.

If an ungral fails to feed, it becomes a faengral.

A faengral that fails to feed becomes a maelgral, or “walking dead.”

Finally, as the bodies of the Fell inevitably continue to rot and decay, they eventually become indistinguishable from animated skeletons created through necromancy. When they reach this stage, they are no longer considered Fell.

Ungral, the first stage of unlife for most risen, are typically intelligent enough to hunt on their own, stalking their prey on the edges of civilization, sneaking into and raiding outlying farms or hamlets in the dark of night. Many of these cunning creatures have even learned to hide beneath the surface of swamps, lakes, and other bodies of water during the day. At night, they crawl out of the depths and sneak into river towns and coastal cities to hunt. On the Sea of Pelluria, amphibious dead have become such a problem that most coastal settlements are forced to maintain boat patrols along their nighttime shores.

Faengral and Maelgral, as their minds drop to the level of animals, often turn to hunting in savage, roving packs, where their decaying minds and limited ability are made up for by numbers. Hiding in woods, ruins, or empty caves during the day, these packs shamble deliberately into villages and outposts as darkness falls, attacking without warning. These nightmare bands have forced many human settlements to build high walls and lock their gates when night comes. When they attack, the faengral and maelgral bring down their prey by swarming them, and in their frantic compulsion to feed, they often end up in savage fights among themselves.

The Fell are creatures of darkness, preferring to hide in dim and secret places during the day, avoiding the sun whenever they can, biding their time before stalking into the night to hunt. Though light does not physically harm the Fell, they seem almost afraid of it and it clearly affects their ability to see. Undead will often shy away or even flee from sunlight, and even bright torchlight and lamplight seems to affect them.

The maelgral, or “walking dead,” is the last state of the Fell before total decay. Maelgral have lost nearly all of their personality and are less dangerous, though more durable, than the other forms of undead. They have more durability and an inability to feel pain, but no longer have the ability to claw or bite their prey; instead they can only attempt to bludgeon their victims with desperate clubbing motions of their often handless arms. Unlike a lesser undead (skeletons, ghouls, ghosts or zombies), a maelgral retains some element of animal cunning.


Known Undead Lords

There are currently three undead lords of note around Eredane:

  • Zefim Vyle, a lich who lives in a craggy natural tower on the eastern edge of the Forest of the Sahi. Sunulael has made overtures to Zefim, but so far he has resisted the temptation to join the Shadow.
  • Gryffith Donne, the vampire lord who residers amoung the mountain city of Idenor.
  • The Waylander, a wildlander who went partially insane and tried to reason with Sunulael. He now flies through the woods of the Caraheen as a stalker in the night, preying on scouts and refugees in the night.


Necromantic Confluxes

Certain areas have an amount of ambient necromantic energy, which can play havoc with the manifestations of newly formed Fell. This may occur in a graveyard, in a series of catacombs near the burial tombs of evil kings, or in an area where a massive unleashing of necromantic magic happened at some time in the past. In such areas, Fell may rise more powerful than normal. In some cases, a necromantic conflux speeds the process of rising, soon after its demise. Another conflux might keep the Fell from deteriorating at the normal rate, perhaps keeping them animate for months, even permanently as long as they do not leave the area. These areas are evil beyond measure, and in the case of the Obsidian Spire it is rumored that the legates are skilled in the necromantic arts and are known to use the area as a generator for a nearly limitless supply of loyal minions for supply in the City of Dead, Cambrial. On the other side of the coin, particularly holy or blessed sites may actually prevent the dead from rising again. The home of a celestial trapped on Aryth by the Sundering may function in such a capacity, as could the burial place of a powerful magic item dedicated to good. When such areas are found near towns or other settlements, they make natural hospital grounds and sickness colonies where those who are ill beyond repair go to die so that they do not haunt their loved ones after they depart.





PORTAL  |  THE SOUTHIES  |  DURGAZ  |  ERANON  |  ZAL'KAZZIR  |  KYUAD / Bill