Issue 1 Volume 1 Number 1
Dragon's
Whisper
LAY ONARA FEATURES LAYONARA FEATURES Role-Playing Advice Comic: Tales of Layonara Stories of of Layonara Layonara INTERVIEWS Cover Artist: Phaere D&D Adventures: Al Al Sousa Sousa INTRODUCTIONS Gamemaste r: Harlas Gamemaster: Player Characters: Bumblebee Bumblebee & & Enzo Enzo Deity: Pyrtechon Pyrtechon REVIEW Warhammer TTabletop abletop Serenity RPG RPG
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Contents
Chroniclers of the Weave
Letter from the Editor
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Wisdom from the Ranks
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The Gamemasters: Harlas
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Four Corners of a Magical World: Pankoki Quest
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Warhammer: Tabletop
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Miniatures Warfare Comic: Tales of Layonara
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The people who are proud to bring this to you!
Editor In Chief Dan Scott (Leanthar)
Editors Sarah Hunter (Acacea) Andrew Thompson (Creighton) Beverly Scott (Fayith)
Layout Beverly Scott Andrew Thompson
Portrait of a Character: Bumblebee
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Illustrations
Portrait of a Character: Enzo
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Cover Artist and Illustrator: Lisette (Phaere) Cartographer: Peter Mitchell (Rasterick) Player Forum Albums: NwN screen shots & images
Get to Know Phaere: Artist/Illustrator
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Serenity RPG
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Deity of Layonara: Pyrtechon
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Notes of a Bard: Ozymandias
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D&D Adventures: Al Sousa
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False Truth - Chapter 1
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Open Gaming Licenses & Notices
62
Layonara World Map
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Dragon’s Whisper Volume 1, Issue 1, Number 1. Published by Layonara Studios. Reproduction or use of this material in whole or in part without permission of the publisher is prohibited. views and opinions detailedThe herein are not necessarily those of Layonara Studios, its executives, or other contributors. © 2007 Layonara Studios
Contributors and Reviewers Charles Tallman (CHAzz) Thorsten Jurgensen (Harlas Ravelkione) Fernando Espitia (Pankoki) Phil Lynch (Philhappy) Andy Mellecker (Guardian452/Enzo) Jill Price (Honora) Anthony Beaulieu Edwin van de Ketterij (EdTheKet) Jason Williams (Ozymandias) Andrew Thompson
Tales of Layonara Comic Story - Andrew Thompson Artwork - Niels Andersen Dolmer (Niles09)
Interviews Bumblebee (PenNPopper) - The Dragon's Whisper in-game magazine Phaere - http://phaere-tail.tripod.com/ Al Sousa - D&D Adventures Websites Layonara - http://www.layonaraonline.com Phaere's Artwork - http://phaere-tail.tripod.com D&D Adventures - http://www.dndadventure.com
Advertising and Submissions Display advertising information and submission guidelines available upon request.
Email:
[email protected]
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Letter from the Editor In Chief by Dan Scott (Leanthar) It is with great pride that I write this letter of introduction for the inaugural issue of Dragon’s Whisper. To get this magazine out to you, it required a lot of dedication and drive from our team. Thank you--all of you! I started this magazine because I know it will spread word of the World of Layonara and be of interest to our players. The larger the player base is for the world, the better the opportunity that the players in the community have in engaging in good role play. Also, perhaps some of the players will find some good friends along the way. We expect our layout will change as we develop it, and what is now planned as a quarterly publication could, one day, become a monthly one. However, our goal is to ensure it is readable online and easy to print for those that preDan Scott (Leanthar)
fer a hardcopy.
Where to start?
Layonara started in my head in 1986 when I was just starting to play and enjoy games. But gaming was not really enough for me, so I started jotting down notes and ideas about various things that I would like to see in a fantasy world. After a few years of this, I then started Game Mastering (GM’ing) and I quickly learned that a few of my ideas didn’t work and that all of my ideas were not deep enough to create a really convincing fantasy world. So, I went back to the drawing board after my Pen and Paper (PnP) players destroyed the world. A rookie GM mistak e—I have made plenty of them in my lifetime. When starting over, I created the foundation of a deeper world. Then, I started allowing my PnP players to change and define the world as they traveled to various areas in it. I quickly fell in love
with this new style of creation because it allowed the players to enjoy themselves and actually feel a part of the world. It was, at this time, that I started tracking history and lore based around the players and their actions. This continued for nearly a decade and quite a few players were involved during this process and time frame. Lots of fun! And lots of handwritten documents and hand-drawn maps...an artist I am not. In June of 2002, I took a stab at putting Layonara online for other players to enjoy. I thought the world would remain small and mostly unnoticed but to my surprise it was fairly popular. I made a lot of mistakes at the beginning as running an online community is difficult and time consuming to say the least. I am still learning to this day and will continue to learn. The world has exploded in popularity, lore, and history ever since putting it online. It is a lot of fun to see players enjoy their time inside the game world and reading the history and lore of the world. I would like to humbly say thank you to all of the great people that have worked on the various teams at various stages of involvement within the game world and the community in general. Every single one of you that has been on these teams rock! It is because of your hard work and sacrifices through the years that the players have been able to enjoy their time in a great game world full of history and lore. To the players…thank you! We all do this for you. Every one of us enjoys seeing you have fun in a game world built for role-playing, which is why we work in the community. Without the players, there is no reason to have a game world and all of us are unmistakably aware of this fact. And thank you to my family for your support over the long years. I love you! Beverly...you are awesome and I couldn’t have done this without your support and love. Thank you honey.
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Wisdom from the Ranks Answers to Those Troubling Questions by Charles Tallman (CHAzz) Our intention with this feature is to give advice on any and all aspects of role playing. While I am aware that for more than just a few of you, Neverwinter Nights (NwN) has been your
way to do things; the entire concept is self-interpretive. Honestly, can anyone tell me how an elf acts? Have you ever encountered one down at the local corner shop buying a packet of snack cakes? Have we ever seen one on television
only experience with role-playing games, and that you might never have stepped up to a pencil-and-paper, tabletop game in your life, I nevertheless wish to include as much of the entire industry as possible. Who knows, perhaps your experiences in Layonara will help you branch out into other aspects of the genre.
discussing ethnic disparity on a daytime talk show? Of course not, but we all have our own idea of how one would act. And that's the issue right there. While my elf and your elf will have similarities, there will be plenty of differences, if only because of our personal experiences and how we look at the material.
Now, before I get too far into this, perhaps a little bit about myself is in order, if only to help build some sort of credentials. I've been gaming most of my life, since the early days of Dungeons & Dragons. Ever since that first taste in 1977 I've gobbled up any system, setting, or book I could get my hands on. I most assuredly do not consider myself an expert on anything. I do, however, consider myself highly opinionated on just about everything. It is this vast storehouse of opinion from which I plan to draw my suggestions. No matter how I feel about my opinions and their validity, I am certainly not the end-all, be-all of geek knowledge. When necessary, I will be drawing on the massive pool of gamerdom intellect known affectionately as the Layonara Forums. If I can't figure out how to explain something, or if (more likely "when") I find differing opinions on topics, I will try to cover both sides, including quotes from the veterans who have been generous enough to share their wisdom. One challenge to writing an article like this is that it would be easy to call it a "how-to." This is a viewpoint that we are trying to avoid at all costs. When it comes to role playing, the only fast and solid rule is that there really is no right or wrong
“When it comes to role playing, the only fast and solid rule is that there really is no right or wrong way to do things.”
Having said all this, I think some generalities would be a good topic for this inaugural issue. So let us start with some basics. There are essentially four different styles of RPG. I categorize them into: standard RPG’s, such as D&D or Rifts; Massively Multiplayer Online RPG’s, like Everquest, Dark Age of Camelot, or Ultima Online; Live Action RPG’s like Mind's Eye Theatre, or NERO; and finally, Miscellaneous RPG’s; games like Monopoly fit this final category. At this point, two questions have likely popped into your head, one being how does Layonara fit into this model, and two, how is Monopoly a role-playing game? Layonara, as a persistent world of Neverwinter Nights, is a cross between a traditional RPG and an MMO. It definitely has the setup of an MMO. You need a computer with some sort of Internet connection, you play with tons of people you've never met in real life, and much of the dynamic is handled in a computer game fashion. On the other hand, there is a higher percentage of role
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Wisdom - Continued playing than in an MMO; we accomplish things with actual, if still electronic, die rolls, and we tend to police ourselves more when it comes to non-game issues and topics. As for Monopoly, think about it for a minute. Monopoly, Life, heck even some card games require us to take on a "role." In Monopoly, we are real estate tycoons, in Life, ordinary people. In the card game Lunch Money, we pretend to be little girls on the ele-
submission process helps you make sure your character concept is going to work within the framework of the setting. If this is for a tabletop game, check with the GM to make certain your concepts aren't going to clash with his ideas for the game. There are very few things more frustrating than to spend a great deal of time and effort on a character whose background doesn't matter to the game. And from the other side of
mentary school playground. That's really what our entire hobby comes down to: taking a role.
the screen, your GM doesn't want to try to jam your character into his campaign when it doesn't fit right.
“Essentially, all we ever do is improv acting.”
Essentially all we ever do is improv acting. I know I say that like improv is an easy thing and all those actors are hacks, but I really mean it in the reverse. We should feel pretty good about ourselves for attempting this stuff in the first place. We may not be on stage, but it still can be pretty nerve-wracking to pretend to be whatever we play, and hope the others we meet are convinced with our performance. That aside, back to the game.
What I'd really like to accomplish in this article, aside from hopefully entertaining you with my rambling style, is to answer specific questions and issues you might have, regardless of game, system, or setting. Heck I'll even try to answer questions about collectable card games and the like. To that end, if there is something you are concerned about, or perhaps you want to debate me on some point or other, I've set up an email:
[email protected]. Please feel free to send me any and all of your various questions, concerns, comments, and gripes. I'll try to answer the best I can. If I can't help you with an answer, I'm certain I can find someone who can. Until next time, may all your hits be crits.
When starting a new character, the best way to start is to read. Read anything on the setting you can get your hands on. For Layonara, that's pretty easy. Everything is in one spot. Go through the background, history, timeline, maps; all of it. Hit the forums, read what others posted. Thehave best thing about the way Layonara is set up, is that the character
The Great Library--no longer lost. A great role-playing session in the Soul of a Lost Ancient Campaign.
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Presenting
The Gamemasters Each issue we would like to take the time to let our Gamemasters, in their own words, introduce themselves to you and tell you a little of who they are, why they do what they do, and overall give you insights into their perspectives regarding role playing. So without further ado, allow us to introduce you to one of our own:
Thorsten Jurgensen (Harlas) I used to be one of the guys who made jokes about role playing, until a friend of mine invited me to oversee a Pen and Paper (PnP) role-playing session so I at least would know what I was making fun of. I came, saw, and was hooked. I played in a fantasy PnP campaign for two to three years with a group of friends until I felt like running something of my own making. By then, I had read loads of fiction, sci-fi, and middle-age inspired novels that gave me tons of ideas that I was eager to try on my PnP group. At the time, we played following a custom-made ruleset that gave much power to the GM in leaving out the use of dice. The GM created the environment, set the boundaries, and gave us an impression or a feel of the situation, enabling us to make qualified judgments on whether what we wanted was doable or not. When I moved to a larger city to study, I lost my old PnP group. Since I was not entirely prep ared to give up role playing, I started looking for a new group, which proved easily done. I then continued GMing and role playing on and off for another 3 years, but since it was just not the same as in the old days, I began looking for an alternative. That's when a friend of mine suggested that I look into Neverwinter Nights online. I followed his recommendation of a server, logged on, and made my first character. I was fascinated by all the custom materials and equipment, feats and skills, emotes, appearances and voicesets that were put into beautifully made areas of towns, hills, deserts, swamps, and
even mountains. Unfortunately, there was a lack of progress, change, and forward movement on the server, so after two months of exploration I had seen all there was to see and lost interest. Because of this, I started looking for a new server, which was when I stumbled upon Layonara Online on a Google search. The amount of information on the forums was, at first glance, staggering. I slowly began working my way through the maps, deities, races, and history of the world, then started working on an application for a dwarven character, Kobal Bluntaxe, who was promptly approved and received a dream by a golden wyrm.
“...Layonara is a dynamic world where player interactions shape or create new areas, plotlines, and even history....”
Because Layonara is a dynamic world where player interactions shape or create new areas, plotlines, and even history, I had still not yet left the first continent even after playing a month. Furthermore, a development team is continuing to come up with yet more implementations to the game that add realism, while writers add further detail to the history, deities, geography, and creatures of the world. Together they work closely with the GM team that runs regular quests, plot quests, and character development quests. An amazing player base also continuously works
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The Gamemasters: Harlas - Continued with the team to add more content and depth to the World of Layonara, which also allows the players to further immerse themselves into the world and add depth to their characters. After playing for about a year, I decided that I wanted to contribute with my own ideas and shape threads on my own. Additionally, I wanted to give something back to the world, so I decided to apply for a GM position and was welcomed into the team. There are great possibilities for a GM using the NwN GM client compared to being a GM in a PnP campaign. As a GM in Layonara, you are able to shape both a visible and audible environment for players that has a very realistic feel to it. A GM can build areas, mani pulate environments like weather conditions and time of day, possess and control NPC’s, and place enemies dynamically as the quest unfolds. In short, a GM is enabled to shape a story around a group of characters that does not only appeal to the imagination of the players but also to their vision and
hearing, which makes it more interesting compared to being a GM in PnP.
“As a GM in Layonara, you are able to shape both a visible and audible environment for players that has a very realistic feel to it.... [A] GM is enabled to shape the story around a group of characters.”
Obviously, there are also drawbacks, such as the handling of skill checks. However, these drawbacks can be circumvented by the GM. An example is a situation where a character is trying to sneak (i.e. using Hide in Shadows + Move Silently) across an area without cover during broad daylight. The game mechanics does not and cannot take such restrictions into account when making the skill check. Such situations can be handled through role play and communication between player and GM, and are often much more rewarding than simply walking around in stealth mode. But being a GM on Layonara is more than just the running of quests and throwing groups of characters into hopeless situations to see how they manage to find a way out; it is also about being part of a team. Furthermore, being a GM also requires dedication to the World of Layonara and the wish to contribute to it and expand it further.
Kobal Bluntaxe (Harlas’ Layonara character) and Hargranar.
GM duties beyond the running of quests include things like helping players that have problems in
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The Gamemasters: Harlas - Continued game and answering questions by players on the public forums. GMs also voice their opinions in discussions on the GM forums where subjects range from the approval of characters, balancing issues or bugs, to more complex topics like the future of the server. Open-mindedness and pausing to consider options go a long way towards fulfilling this important part of the job. My experience has taught me that often, small stories are the best ones, or stories that start out as small where room is left for them to evolve. In my opinion, the key is to leave things open to the players. Player initiative is rewarding to both GM and the group and often leads the quest on routes one had not anticipated. Such detours require the GM to have the ability to expand and invent a storyline on the run, interact with the group through the NPC’s along their road, and inventing their personalities and backgrounds without prior preparation.
“Instead of choosing magic as a relatively “easy” means to explain a phenomenon or as a route towards the fulfilment of a quest, I often prefer to rely on creative use of skills and the imagination of the party to pass obstacles or defeat an overpowering foe. In my opinion, the "magic" in encountering magic disappears once magic becomes common.”
Realism is an important factor, in my opinion-even in a fantasy setting. Instead of choosing magic as a relatively "easy" means to explain a phenomenon or as a route towards the fulfillment of a quest, I often prefer to rely on creative use of skills and the imagination of the party to pass obstacles or defeat an overpowering foe. In my opinion, the "magic" in encountering magic disappears once magic becomes common. An example of a quest series I have run on Layonara was the story surrounding an orcish champion of Grand. Grand is an orcish deity in
Layonara who once suffered betrayal as a mortal and swore vengeance against his betrayer, which eventually lead to his ascension. Grand gifted a weapon to an orc of his choice. This orc was neither the strongest nor the most cunning of his worshippers, but one who suffered betrayal of the worst kind. Grand made this orc his unwilling champion--unwilling because he refused his role but was left no choice by the god. The champion, Grand's Red Raven, was to unite the orcish tribes on the continent and lead an assault on the dwarven bastions in the civilized lands, to weaken their god and avenge the old betrayal. A group of adventu rers sought to unravel Gra nd's scheme and with the help of a master in transmutation the group was polymorphed into a band of orcs--permanently, as they discovered during the ritualistic transformation. Given their new shapes, the former adventurers were able to infiltrate the orcish army and eventually befriended the champion of Grand. The group recognized the madness that threatened to overwhelm the champion due to the increasing pressure laid on him by the presence of the god and understood that the champion was fighting against his god's will and lust for blood. Alas, they knew that this was not a struggle he would be able to win. Through careful, smart execution and the help of an orcish bonecaster from a rogue tribe of orcs, the party managed to free the champion by breaking the weapon. At the same time, two priests among the party were calling upon the power of their gods to cause the ground to shake, causing cave-ins at strategic locations and sealing most of the orcish army into the underground tunnels they had been excavating to launch a surprise attack upon a dwarven settlement. Naturally, the group took losses along the way, but they came out on top. The characters eventually found a way to regain their former shapes and sizes; although, some of their orcish traits remain with them--even to this day.
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Four Corners of a Magical World What follows is a documentation of a quest series by the very GM that created and administrated it:
Fernando Espitia (Pankoki) As stories go, and legends are made, many find themselves wanting to fight off the evil that lurks around their worlds, while
important of them all, was a set of scrolls, four in total, each one representing an element. The premise of the Scrolls of
lives would change both for the better, and the worse. Friendships would rise, enmities would swell, and the very fabric of
others seek treasure and delve into the deepest dungeons where they fight ancient beasts to find it, and still others just pick a road and simply start walking it. For a small group of Dragoncalled, this was not so; this story practically fell into their laps as they rested and talked in the middle of a small town named Hlint.
Melizaphei was the ability to mold and shape each element to the point of being one with them. She believed in the good that these scrolls could be used for, but she also understood the level of risk that was involved should they fall into the wrong hands. In anticipation of this, she used many of her skills to put several fail-safe devices on the scrolls, some of which remain a mystery to this date."
magic was to be flavored with a unique touch.
Rushing out of magical gates came a slight elf (Felimian was his name), bearing the urgent news of a distant land known to very few. He claimed his roots in Voltrex (the Tower of Earth, to be precise), and his accent and posture spoke of his honesty. With the melodic speech so often possessed by elves, he told our 'hapless heroes' of a woman named Melizaphei. "Melizaphei Hilliaraname was a very powerful elven wizard that was raised and tutored in the Tower of Nature. She showed promise over the arcane arts at a very young age and excelled in all her teachings much earlier than expected. Eventually she came into her power and became a vital member of the elven wizard community. The matters that she researched were simply amazing. All her experiments were beyond their time and people truly wondered how she was able to produce such marvelous effects in the Weave. "Her last project, and the most
Melizaphei
His story, however, was not to end properly. As Felimian told them this, a circle formed around him. Abject terror filled his face and he hurriedly told the group that if they wished to avoid a terrible future for this land they should seek the keepers of the High Forest. A powerful ray of magic struck him and then he was no more. That is how this saga was born, for after that point in time all their
The High Forest is a place where Unicorns once roamed, where the land spoke through the many tenders of its heart, and where the balance of dark and light was a thin one that shifted with every season. Many rangers and druids had gathered there in Katia's Grove to see a strange black box. It was rumored that it held a treasure that had been kept in their fold for many years, and that it was now no longer safe under their green canopies and instead awaited the return to its master. When the Dragoncalled arrived, it was clear to the nature folk that something had gone wrong. There were four wizards appearing less-than-friendly, two priestesses with a reputation for short tempers, and a bard with more strings than a spider's web. When they heard the names attached to each face, it did seem that things were getting worse by the moment. Yet the druids were bound by pact, and the group presented all that was needed to claim the box. With a sense of relief, Legodia, Keeper of The High Forest, presented them with the burden the forest could no longer bear. Without knowing what they were stepping into, it was taken by the young priestess of Lucinda. With determination in her expression, she was the first to come in contact
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Four Corners - Continued with the Scroll of Earth. "This is the source of the earth, the spirit of the stone, the soul of the solid air. Within lies the sphere of the one corner that controls that which binds the planet. This is the third scroll of Melizaphei. You who read this are now to to defend it. The scroll willbound answer you; join it with his brothers to dismiss this power or seek forever to be chased by its suitors."
The Kuo-Toa, as they call them-a strange mix of frog and things that should perhaps remain forever unknown, normally hostile to any land dweller, all stood their swampy grounds as the presence of one of the Scrolls was acknowledged. After struggling to communicate, a spell was placed on thedire scroll bearer andflowing. soon more news began
Did she feel confusion? Perhaps bewilderment? Whichever it was, the young priestess changed from that day on. Like a newborn child, the scroll began to explore her mind, learn from her and her from it; a being held within that was now freed to her mind, perhaps even her soul. Curious as all followers of the Lady of Spells are, she opened to it and the world began taking shapes of earth and steel.
Xhalixkkia was the name of the leader. A Kuo-Toa of legendary age who spoke to them at great length, and was eventually discovered to be the bearer of the Scroll of Water, keeper of the ebbs and flows, grace of the deep, and ward to a place of greater power, a place where all the four were linked to a balance set by the cunning of the elven race. A place that was no t too far from his home, and once the four scrolls were gathered, was where they were to be returned--a place of power where their fate was to
Felimian's warning lingered, however. There were three more to be found and an evil wizard named Kelor with a clear advantage over them. The conscious-
be determined. Though he was cryptic to no end, what was clear of his speech was the simple urgent warning to gather the others before the balance was jeopardized.
ness of the scroll they had, lovingly named Stone, guided them towards the nearest of the ones remaining.
Their next stop was to be the island of Alibor in the Kingdom of Roldem. Of course no journey is ever safe, least of all one into a land that was facing a war from undead factions, Mad God followers, and the very few trying to fight them. Purpose drove our little group despite that. They wove small illusions or fought the small groups they could handle until they reached the end of their journey where the strangest of creatures awaited.
It was easier said than done, for no clear clues to a direction existed, as the other two scrolls were found to be either behind extraplanar walls or hidden in very powerful magic. So following Xhalixkkia's advice, they instead made for Dregar, a place where the history of the scrolls had migrated to once it had left Voltrex, which would hopefully be the place to find the clues they needed to locate the other two, if cunning heads prevailed. The first sign of progress was found in Pranzis after many weeks of intensive, fruitless
research--a simple note found stating that two agents of an unknown society wished to meet and discuss the matters of the scrolls. One would be found in the woodland province of Vale, in the Forest of Mists, and the other not too far from it, in Orc's Watch.
Kelor
By this time however, Kelor's minions were already on their tails. Sporadic encounters with creatures of the elements were normal things, yet each encounter a test their to mettle that tookwas sweat andoftears survive. Magic flew, prayers were answered, song lingered, and blades or hammers struck the forces of the elements, which only showed the control over fire possessed by the elf who commanded them. Perhaps driven by purpose, or perhaps luck, they survived this battle and many more to come. Vale is a serene spiri tual forest outpost in the deep heart of the Forest of Mists, protected by a chest-high wall of stone; a place where those that revere nature make pilgrimages to fulfill vows or renew spirits. This is where the group met a gentle elven enchantress by the name of Elmilindalethiaratan Elnatioanna, who thankfully allowed herself to be called simply Elmi. She was a
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Four Corners - Continued figure that had appeared before in the lives of those now tasked with the procurement of Meli's work. Elmi's previous line of work had placed her in the way of the scrolls, and she was aware of Melizaphei and her family line and the by amazing research performed the Hilliaraname during her life on Voltrex before her disappearance. She spoke greatly of how advanced Melizaphei's research was and how most of it wasn't even understood by those in her time. Eventually, the next step was found. Elmi's husband, the second contact, a mysterious man named Boroin told them of odd occurrences near the River of Shadows: trolls running away from their home in O'taogor and odd activity within the caves.
Boroin and Elmi
What of the Holder of Earth? The young priestess slowly learned of the scroll. It held memories of its previous owner, memories of murder and loss at the hands of cared ones. She learned of a name: Kailia, Kelor's sister. The story unfolded slowly, and in every dark corner, something
ensued, walls seemingly the only options of movement (meaning none at all of course), until a day that they were once more collected in Pranzis. As they gathered around a fountain, the water took shape into a being of grace, and a message was given from a weakening Xhalixkkia. Corax
more tenebrous came through. time, she will learn of the true In horrors behind the scrolls.
Lake. Deep Lake is another name for the body of water named after the half-orc Corax, as it was called before he performed a legendary dive in a local festival. A mysterious lake, which is said to be bottomless and full of mysteries. Now, it served as the meeting place for a dying scroll bearer and a group of adventurers hungry for information. Anything.
Xora is a mysterious woman who controls a powerful tower of magic near the northern forests of Dregar. She is rumored to be a great wizard who trusts no one but herself, with an expression that at times reveals a small glimpse of sadness that is quickly replaced with a stern look and a resolute demeanor. This is where the group met, now expanded in number after the story had spread through the Dragoncalled. By now, their suspicions of Kelor
Mucking through the bug infested, serpent-riddled troll home was likely the least of their desires, but their sacrifices were well rewarded--for after removing the large amount of elemental beings that then guarded the caves, they discovered Kelor's first mistake: a summoning circle left unattended. In it a shimmering visage of a helpful yet suffering man who gave them the knowledge that Xora, the lady in the northern tower, would grant them insight beyond belief.
The war in Alibor had finally taken its toll on the Kuo-Toa and it was now time for Xhalixkkia to pass unto deeper ponds. As such, he was tasked to entrust
possessing the Scroll of Fire were well founded. They had faced nothing but flames in their confrontations and the scroll felt warded to Stone, the being within the Scroll of Earth. Thus the conversation with Xora revolved around the location of the missing scroll, Air. Excitement filled their expressions when she confirms that she has ways to reach it, but it is quickly staunched when she affirms the fact that only if they found the amulet of The Harvester of Souls, or any information regarding its location, would she allow passage to the realm in which the scroll hid. Amusement was in short supply
the Scroll ofand Water to awithin worthy successor, it was this group that such person would be found.
that day and with a warning from the mysterious lady they left with a heavy sigh and a lack of direction.
scroll, opposite in nature but with an understanding of the importance of such a role.
Weeks of endless investigation
Uncomfortable glances were exchanged; the wizards within the group, their desires often less than savory, were perhaps hoping to control the more destructive Fire Scroll, while others were perhaps afraid of the duality the scrolls imposed, or maybe simply had no desire to be associated with the element. Thus, it was an enduring soul named Dal'Venus, a Hammer of Dorand, who with a stout resolution took it upon herself to protect and bond with the
"This is the source of the water, the flowing sight, the
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Four Corners - Continued blood of the world. Within lies the sphere of the one corner that infuses the planet with life. This is the first scroll of Melizaphei. You who read this are now bound to defend it. The scroll will answer to you; join it with his brothers to dismiss this power or seek forever
more suited for the eyes of a halfling; a middle-aged male with flowing white hair framing an arrogant expression; a young woman with short hair as black as night and deep blue eyes seeming to consume the world with their curiosity; another female, though this one in a flow-
him as the same. No words could be exchanged before magic whisked him to safety, but the Dragoncalled now had the face of their enemy in mind.
to be chased by its suitors."
ing gown better that clearly appraised numbers left unsaid; a to dark-haired young male that appeared aloof in his posture, with an imperturbable expression containing hints of shadow; and finally a young girl that had clearly not yet reached adulthood, with her innocence still evident in her face.
once magic within the forest,practiced to find out about Kailia. Fortunately, the elven mind is not often prone to forgetfulness, and so her home was identified as the now overrun Deathgate Goblin hideout. The streak of good fortune went even further still, as when they inspected the goblininfested site, they discovered a magically sealed entrance…and its key the one they had found in Saudiria. Kailia's old deserted study was now open to them, and within it, a collection of her diaries.
After giving them the scroll, Xhalixkkia informs them of an old relative of Melizaphei, now living in the small desert city of Saudiria. Saudiria is the mysterious oasis on the coast of Dreg ar. A place of enticing natural rhythms and inviting windblown lullabies where many seek refuge from the shifting dunes of the desert, and pointed to as home of Melizaphei's brother, who they found to be long dead. The sad news was quickly
Amongst the belongings therein was a jewel box containing parts of an amulet, a stone key that was hidden under the folds, and a more mundane-seeming house key that was found attached to the back of the portrait. The mystery was unveiling slowly with
They spoke with the Rangers of the Glade to unearth some information about the strange elf that
The diaries were bound in hard leather that seemed to have been
replaced with hope they discovered that the when elf's halfhuman daughter is the current owner of the place, and that she was in the middle of moving out and getting rid of all the "junk" her father had kept around. Eager to learn about the figures that have eluded them for so long, they pleaded with her to let them explore within, and since she clearly didn't mind the chance to get rid of more collected dust, they stumbled upon the first image of Melizaphei they were to have.
new clues to old problems.
It was a portrait--a family portrait, no less. They looked upon the
It was before the gates of Pranzis that they saw his image wreathed
I found the tree house he told me about; it was interesting to see how he enchanted the place to
elves and saw the faces to the names for the first time: a female with a friendly, curious demeanor despite seeming a figure of imposing authority, with an adventurous gaze that was nearly
in flames and draped in a dark crimson mantle that exuded unnatural fires. This elf's appearance bore little resemblance to the one in the portrait, yet it carried distinct features that marked
have two entrances, one seemingly a house devoid of living, the other, his true abode that was warded against all kinds of intrusion. It took me a good three days to figure out how to open it!
The findings coaxed more memories from Stone, but with another scroll bearer added to the group they also had a larger target painted on their backs. Because of that, this is also where they began moving with a stronger sense of purpose and determination. The portrait and the key led them back to the Forest of Mists, where Kailia was rumored to have lived in the past, but not before finally meeting their enemy.
exposed to heavypages enchantments with its red-tinted clearly made from the beautiful elven trees of yew. On them, the words were written in a flowing handwriting. "I don't understand why he made me come to this forest. As much as I love the natural setting of my homeland, my duty was always in Arabel. I am no druid; my magic is wasted in defending myself against pigs and badgers. A sad day, this is.
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Four Corners - Continued Silly me, forgetting the stone key in my pocket. The place is huge!! I have no idea how I'm going to keep it all organized but I'll do my best of course. Still, why in the middle of nowhere? There's not a single soul in this place except the odd ranger passing I will need to get here someand sortthere. of bath placed here. All in time.…"
Her entries continue to describe how, day by day, she adapted the house to her needs, with extensive shopping lists for basic necessities, and recounts of her experiences traveling within the forest. "Well, it has been awhile since I wrote in this little book of mine. I was called back home and forgot to grab it when I left. Then again, that's normal of me, forgetting things like that. The trip back home was a pleasant one. The welcoming gates of Saida are just the right thing one needs to relax from scribing and magicking. As usual, the family wards were waiting for me and led me to our home in Saida. I really wanted to go straight to the tower and visit my mother, but I would feel bad not saying hello to my fading father, so I spent a few days with him as he withered away in his bed. I love him with all my heart, but sometimes you simply need to let go. After a few days, my mother called and without a seconds notice I was running for the tower. She was her usual self, her light blue and earthen gown flowing freely in the windy night. My mother never fell into that stereo-
typical wizard look; she is beautiful, smart, and polite. My father is a lucky elf. She addressed me in common, which means someone else was listening to us--the ever-polite Voltrexian. This was a secret code to us, no one else knew it, but it meant watch our of tongues. Andtoso she spoke roses and the new spring and some other subjects that really didn't fit the reason we met. And I knew she meant that she had finally finished her work, and that she was ready to show it to me as soon as we were alone. She showed to me four simple scrolls…they were beautiful. One stored in a small glass casket with a slight blue tint to it. Another bright red one appearing to be actually in flames. One in a cylindrical tube rolled neatly and surrounded by a liquid. The final one, a slab of flat stone with runes inscribed on it. She explained to me what they did and their importance. I knew she wasn't lying for I've seen her power and what she can create. In her own words, "They are safe while I remain, or at least my conduit. They are powerful Kaila, and many will seek them for that." She meant it--I already knew of a little rat that was probably scheming to get a hold of them. Then she surprised me, as she usually does. She held the stone tablet and gave it to me. "Kaila, protect this one, it is the primal key to the others and is no easy responsibility. It will test you in many ways and I fear that it will take its toll on you. You see my child, I've placed a defense around the others. They are somewhat protect-
ed from their users, but I do not want to get into detail so early, for it will probably confuse you. All you need to know now is that you must seek your cousin in Arabel. Felimian has established a link with the locals, and they can lead you to understanding. This is my gift to the world; within the end of this leave what maypassage be usefulI will in the future. I have linked our amulets so that only the two of us can open this place, although you would need the other three scrolls to open them…." I was lost. She seemed hurried somewhat, very unlike her. But I took the scroll. She is my mother, I trust her; she knows what I'm capable of and what my limits are. On my way back, the thing started talking to me! It was like a baby asking all sorts of questions; I asked for a name, he said he didn't have one. I called him Laanela, seemed fitting. We talked about everything. He asked so much, and I talk too much. A good companion he has become. For now, I have to pack my things and go to Arabel. My old teacher said that I could leave this forest when I found out how to stop time. Old blabber, I miss him sometimes but I couldn't wait until I could STOP TIME, so I left for Arabel to meet my cousin. Besides, I heard he is getting married, so I wouldn't mind meeting his beloved wife."
More clues, more places to discover, more history to the myth. The Rangers of the Glade had also spoken of a tribe of barbarians living in the mountains to the north that worshiped the winds
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Four Corners - Continued and spoke of legends rang true of the essences of the scrolls. Thunder Peaks is a land of conflict between displaced Granite Giants and local shamanic barbarian tribes, mountains where storms are born and given direction, and the place where the tides favor.were truly to turn in their Our heroes were smart enough to approach the normally secluded tribes with peace and a friendly demeanor, ending some of the giants that lurked their holy grounds as a gift. After speaking at length of their purpose, it was the tribal leader that accepted them as a piece of destiny and presented them with a simple whistle that had been given to him many seasons ago. It would open the door to realms unknown. They suspected that they had finally located the way to Air, and it was time for an elf to take charge of it. An archer named Talan Va'lash, who had recently joined them in the exploration of the fabled scrolls, was curious about its magic and perhaps its relation to the elven sanctuary of Voltrex. He blew the instrument on the highest peak, and with a clap of thunder, a flash of light, he was gone from this world.
planet with breath. This is the second scroll of Melizaphei. You who read this are now bound to defend it. The scroll will answer to you; join it with his brothers to dismiss this power or seek forever to be chased by its suitors."
the world. Hooded in her dark realm, she offered them information for a simple item exchange. With her usual twist of words, she lied to the party, saying that Kailia was part of the guild while making sure she wasn't precise about which guild it was, and that in her abrupt death something of
In a brief, sidetracked interlude, they met with the wizard Moraken, who saw fit to meet with them. Likely he knew the true importance of the scrolls, and so he provided gruff guidance, perhaps hoping that the young adventurers wouldn't blow up the world. He spoke of the two different approaches to using the power of the scrolls-control and bonding. The first provided fast results but would litter the magic with conflict in the long run, while the second took more time but enabled the bearer to exact more power over the element in question. He advised them to speak with a man named Ozlo on the
Sharina's left with body. Shewas wanted only Kailia's a set of daggers in exchange for direction on where to find more about her.
continent of Xantril; not only was he learned in matters of planar magic, but he was also the mentor to Kailia when she was alive.
What happened then? Perhaps only Talan will ever know. When he came back, he was a changed elf, bearing the third of Melizaphei's four scrolls and with control of the element coming
However, before they headed to Xantril, Lueanne Lightfinger, a halfling with a not-quite-clean slate, but perhaps just a victim of circumstance, offered the group an option she had heard from Branderback's finest. Of course, the srcins of this information were mostly left out of the conversation, but in some strange manner typical to halflings, she convinced her friends to go to Dregar and enter the den of what they will eventually discover to be
naturally to him.
Shadow Thieves.
"This is the source of the air, the spirited voice, the ether of the world. Within lies the sphere of the one corner that infuses the
Sharina Shadowfang, leader of the Shadow Thieves, and perhaps the most feared figure of the underground movements of
Seeing nothing wrong with this, they agreed and Shadon's temple in Arabel became a stop on their list in the future. Arabel is city of terrors and demons, tyrannical home of torture, suffering, disease, famine and violence of all kinds…and the entrance to the underground guild that was once led by Kailia Hilliaraname: a passage found with the temple of The Irrepressible Scamp. Though they were warned of the strange creatures below, the battle-hardened group was confused at how fiercely the earthy creatures guarded the old caverns, wondering what they could be protecting with such urgency. It was not until they came to the central chamber that the answer and the treasure were found. Melizaphei called them Multidimensional Planar Cavity Folding Crystals. To Stone, what they found it was simply a storage gem, but in reality it held a far greater impact. The beautiful oversized emerald contained not only Kailia's physical belongings, but many of her memories as well, passed onto it through magic. It was at this moment that the young Lucindite was instilled with the memories of the elf, a
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Four Corners - Continued new person born once more as personalities mix and past becomes present. Sharina's request was fulfilled, the weapons passed onto the halfling with little knowledge of the damage that would be done. Thus, did they keep their word to the ones in shadows.
the place had been recently abandoned. Thankfully for their sakes, it was the latter.
A powerful hit of the Weave su rrounded them, called by some primordial force as in the Lake of Salt, a desert within the harshness of Xantril, they found Kelor's servants trying to dislodge Kailia's petrified corpse from the sands it had melted in. With their fortune, however, the Fire Giants were defeated, and from her body they retrieved the last part of the amulet they had discovered in Saudiria, the key to the place where the scrolls would be united, and now missing only the Scroll of Fire.
trivial annotations dictating laboratory savage experiences when attempting to control the Scroll of Fire and a solid cube of some strange alloy. Though they were not able to piece or dismantle it, their Weave senses told them that something lay hidden within. Somewhat disappointed in the results, they left the premises and turned back to Xantril.
Firesteep is a volcanic nig htmare of an island in the northern region of the world, an unholy place of destruction to Pyrtechon. And home to the Ancient King of Dragons--Fisterion. This is where Lueanne's contacts in the Shadow Thieves had labeled Kelor's laboratory when the exchange was made for information.
There was little of importance to be found amongst the pieces of debris. Kelor had officially moved to Xantril in pacts with greater forces, and so they found only
The Great Forest is the heart of Layonara, the home of the most powerful druids in the world, and the grounds on which rested the tower of Ozlo, a mysterious figure whose nature had as many rumors as leaves in the forest, and the place where they would finally come to understand the reality of the scrolls.
By this time, the three that carried scrolls now controlled their elements more skillfully, and could protect their presence by working with one another to cloud Kelor's attempts at spying if they focused enough on it. They came to the mountains of fire where
In times past, summoners would conjure elementals of all kinds when seeking aid of extra planar matter. They had many options, but were mostly limited to the inert elements. After the many wars in the world began, these links began to weaken, and a group of powerful individuals gathered to fix this problem. A conclusion was reached from the research of these wizards, Melizaphei among them. If the links were not balanced and its energies re-strengthened, sum-
they found a hidden passage leading them to the studies of the corrupted elf, but when they arrive within, they met so little resistance they just knew they were either walking into a trap or
mons would no longer work in the world at all. As such, it was decided that she would tend to the balance of the links of the inner planes with her scrolls, while the rest of the world dealt
with summons provided from other planes. That way, the old link was nurtured, allowed to grow and maintain a balance, and Weave-gifted around the world would still be able to call for help through their magic. Melizaphei gladly took this duty upon her shoulders. The scrolls held powers to that usedlesser as diplomats thewere essence of what linked those planes. She would eventually fade into the realm of balance, there to exist until a replacement was found or the power was spread amongst bearers of the scrolls. The news bore heavy on those that listened with mouths agape-the rest of their discussion with Ozlo was casual compared to what he had just sha red. A sad story unfolded when he opened the box brought from Kelor's lab; its contents had belonged to Yimliara, Kailia's youngest sister. A pair of weapons she used in her life, mostly as toys, but showing promise in their handling, and a red storage gem, much like the one they had found in the caves under Arabel, with this one instead holding Yimliara's belongings. The allegiance and corruption between the siblings was very clear at this point. They thought the true sadness behind Yimliara's story was that the group had just learned where she lived, and now they were on their way to end her. Youth corrupted by the persuasive capability of age. It was in the Roughlands, an area of Xantril that remains in the ruinous ecology that once covered the continent, full of ruins and hidden secrets, where they found the youngest member of the seemingly cursed family. It
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Four Corners - Continued was here where they would find themselves fighting harder than ever before. Kelor's training on such bright minds showing in truthfulness as steel and magic tore against creatures made of living magma. The group had grown now, both in numbers and in ability, and every challenge
elven home and trusting them to do so.
was met resolution andelona desire to with put an end to this gated saga.
contained within its borders…and now the place were a group of Dragoncalled would bang on the doors of the Hilliaraname household. They bore so many artifacts and evidence of Melizaphei's work that admission to their home was granted, perhaps reluctantly, but full of curiosity, seemingly a common trait in the family. It was Kailia's nephew who greeted them, intrigued.
In the final chamber, they faced Yimliara's mummified body trapped in undeath. With skillful use of the element, she was taught every swath of fire that spewed from her magic left scars that while perhaps not showing on the bodies of each struck, may have marked their souls instead. But they endured, and after ending her corrupted mockery of life, they recovered two items from her decomposing body: the blade of a sword, and a sundered Scroll of Fire. The sight of the ripped parchment of flames bore heavily on their spirits, even though it kept functioning through magic. Darkness settled upon them before the situation was to turn again. Their adventure finally led them to where it all started--Voltrex. The Bard of Ages recommended that they speak with an elf named Elrohir, a sage of great repute that resided in Vale. He would be able to open the gate of the elven kingdom to this group, if they could present a valid enough reason. Of course, having recently destroyed one of Sinthar's Bloodpools within said continent was just that. After they appealed to Elrohir on the advise of Ozymandias, he was both friendly and forthcoming regarding their request, asking only for their discretion when they were at the
Voltrex is heaven to the elves that retreated there from the rest of the world, a place of virgin beauty and a conflicted past, home to the graceful race that wishes to shut out everything not
For long hours, they shared all the knowledge they held, now truly desperate to find an end to it all. In a twist of good fate, the last member of the family in the portrait, Kailia's older sister, Feawen, made her appearance to the group. She offered the last piece of the puzzle needed to defeat Kelor and restore the broken Scroll of Fire.
these things go, they assumed it was the latter.
Alaamiathela
She brought clarity to a subject that had been troubling them for sometime, which was the reason that the scrolls seemed to have sentience within. Stone in Earth, Alaamiathela in Water, and Fezeeaka in Air. The raw energy of the scrolls needed to flow through a sentient being in order to be properly translated into functioning magic; and thus, the spirits within them. Finally, Feawen makes sure that they know and understand the need to exploit Kelor's weakness. He is not beyond making pacts with powerful creatures to gain immunities, but there is one thing he cannot fight--his own blood.
Stone Feawen explained that by ripping the scroll in two, it meant that either Kelor had truly lost his mind, or that he had found a way to penetrate Melizaphei's realm without needing the other four scrolls. Of course, knowing how
Feezeeaka
This was to be shown in a weapon made by Melizaphei herself for her daughter Kailia, a weapon of sound. The Singing Sword. Love and care were instilled in its crafting with the magic of the family clear within its runes. It was time for it to be reforged.
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Four Corners - Continued The blade they had recovered from Yimliara and other pieces hidden within the storage gem that was found in Arabel. All they needed was a quartz crystal. Not any quartz naturally, but a particular one that could only be found in caves deep within Voltrex, underground where the old tun-
part. It was within that they would be challenged both physically and mentally. Kelor, at the height of his power, did not fear the 'secret weapon' that the group wielded, and taunted them for their whole climb through the tower. Many of his servants that they had been forced against for
hand to damage and distract Kelor as much as he could. Serenity, now called Eldárwen, the young priestess of Lucinda grown into a greater role, pierced pure sound into their hated enemy.
nels nowand stand empty. The Scroll Bearers their companions took the last steps towards ending the madness of an elf whose life had been tainted with a lust for power. The Quartz of Sound was recovered and the reforging of The Singing Sword was completed upon the highest peaks of Voltrex, its magic merging with the blade to be held in the hands of the few who could confront The Betrayer.
so were to now face them for long the last time.
sweat from all corruptaround, a bladestreamed was stuck in his ed heart. Kelor lay deep in a pool of his own blood, his witch with a short sword driven through her back.
Giants Run Mountains is the southwestern part of the great mountain range that covers the mid-eastern Xantril and home to clans of fierce Giants, these
Beings were called from distant places, elemental aspects that were so pure and violent that their mere auras seemed to exude a sense of dread. Kelor's constant taunting helped not at all, but it was eventually at the summit of his tower where they were to confront him and his Azer witch. With Singing Sword in the hands of the young Lucindite, and everyone else fully spelled for the worse, they were aware that not all would make it from the tower alive.
mountains are best avoided if one does not want to end either dead or slave to a Giant. Even dwarves do not tread these mountains lightly in their search for ore. It was here that Kelor Hilliaraname had made his new home, in a tower erected from magic that emitted enough power to make it easily identifiable by the Bearers.
In the very first charge against the pair, the witch drained two of the Scroll Bearers, removing all the liquids from their bodies and leaving dry heaps on the floor-Talan and Dal'Venus had fallen. Lueanne's quick hands and feet kept her busy trying to aim for the nimble halfling, and while they battled magic against sheer dexterity, the others faced Kelor.
It was a foreboding sight that made some wonder if it would be the last they would ever see. Though they certainly didn't look forward to what they would find within, the many years of struggle that they had now gone through,
From the frail Ozymandias a baleful dirge pierced his ears and weakened him greatly, while he was stripped of the enchantments that were crippling the group by Ramanon's dark magic. A seemingly harmless goblin named
all beginning from a story that was dropped from the skies, gave them enough steel to take odds that seemed insurmountable.
Bilvikki aided those he could with his spells, speeding the pace of battle and pouring pure force to the targets he co uld make. A conflicted Drow paladin, the anomaly Synal'dur clove with blade in
Entering the tower was the easy
When the dust settled and the
Calls to the Weave were made, and the bodies of those lost to battle were restored by the grace of the Lady of Spells. As they recovered from the onslaught, those who were able searched for the missing half of the Scroll of Fire and, after joining it with its mate, liberated the being within: Jaldrix, a powerful Azer Chieftain that had suffered far too long in the hands of the wicked.
Jaldrix
What had Kelor been attempting? The answer may never be known--perhaps he truly had gone mad. Yet the fact that so many, so powerful, had aided these adventurers along the way perhaps indicates the importance of what was risked. After this battle and a brief
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Four Corners - Continued respite, it was time to return to the place of balance, back to Alibor, by the magic of the elements. Jaldrix was free of the scroll and holding the magic through sheer self-determination, but was unable to use it to its full potential without a Bearer. Instead, he could only keep it in
of finality to them that was difficult to ignore.
check.
Melizaphei. in the managed toYet move pastend, the they guardians, to finally meet the Mad Sparkler, Melizaphei Hilliaraname.
Within the realm of balance, reality took a new shape. The area was an extension of Melizaphei and her work, and it now served to test the Bearers one last time in order to see how much of the magic they could hold, who they were, and what they were capable of. To know them through magic.
What happened when those questions were answered? Were they right? Were they wrong? Did the good guys "win"? Those are thoughts that will always linger with the Bearers of the Scrolls of
Four Primal Elementals stood guard within this chamber. They asked questions intended to judge character, knowledge, and intent. Each Scroll Bearer was confronted with queries that test-
Her form was that of the legendary Baelnorn of old. Undead, not of a desire to spread evil or a hunger for power, but a need to preserve the forces she kept in check. She had been locked in the chamber for a few centuries protecting the links that allowed Layonara to contact summons from beyond. She was nearing her last days, her form slowly fading into the Weave. It was in the group's hands to either return
ed their minds after so much effort--questions that were answered alone and with a sense
the scrolls to Melizaphei and with it the energy and their power, fueling her soul for a few more
centuries, or embrace the links themselves, liberate the scrolls and allow Melizaphei to rest. The latter was a heavy toll, yet after so long bearing the scrolls and coming to know the beings within, it was impossible for them to let go. They took on a responsibility that for all they be theirs forever, evenknew after might death. Melizaphei was freed, but as her soul was seen fading, the touch of Lucinda was felt in the chamber, and the Creator of the Scrolls was restored to have a second chance at a life that she had missed in service. And thus the saga of Melizaphei's scrolls ended. New bearers of magic were forever bound through blood, tears, and happiness. From there on, each of the Bearers were to become gates to a realm beyond, and with them, the elemental creatures called The Weird were to protect the links of summoning. But that is another story....
Pictures from Pankoki’s Album
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WARHAMMER Tabletop Miniature Warfare Reviewed by Phil Lynch (Philhappy) The army of the Byrnak Clan Dwarves stood and waited for the invaders to arrive. It would not be long now. The sound of drums and the shrieks and cries from the Crooked Moon Night Goblins had carried on the wind for some time now. Once again, the gold mines at Skull Pass were under threat, but the hearts of dwarves are firm and their axes sharp; their resolve to win would not be shaken today. Despite the black clouds that covered the sky, the armor of the Dwarven Hammerers and Thunderers gleamed; adorned with gold cut from the very mines they stood to protect. As the Night Goblins banners slowly came into view, the Dwarven Thane gave the order to move forward. The army of the Crooked Moon Tribe was strong in numbers and this gave them the confidence to attack. The occasional bout of squabbling would break out within the ranks, but a scream of rage from the Big Boss would quickly get them back in line. The regiment of Spider Riders was eager though. There was a good chance they would break and attack the first thing they saw. A sudden increase in shouts and screams from the front line of goblins meant the dwarves had been spotted. The Big Boss gave the order to quicken the pace. A loud bellow came from the huge troll that accompanied them and echoed around Skull Pass. The ground around them shook as the trolls’ feet pounded into it at the increased speed. As the armies drew closer to each other, their momentum increased, driven on by four thousand years of mutual hatred. A volley of arrows from the Night Goblins spurred the dwarves into a charge. The battle cries of dwarf and goblin alike slowly rose in volume until it explodes in a clash of steel, accentuated by the boom of dwarven cannons and the roar of the troll as it hurled boulders.... So, begins the Battle for Skull Pass, another skirmish in a world of perpetual war in the land of Warhammer.
September 2006 marked two major releases from Games Workshop, the seventh edition of the Warhammer Fantasy Battles Rulebook and the box set, Battle for Skull Pass. The box set is a very nice and affordable collection of miniatures for anyone already engrossed in the world of tabletop battles and also stands as a perfect entry level kit for anyone wanting to get started. The box contains everything needed to start playing: a Starter Booklet, a pocket-sized Condensed Rulebook, dice, scenery, and over 100 miniatures featuring an army of dwarves and an army of Night Goblins. The new Rulebook stands as a complete guide to Fantasy Warhammer; included in the book are all the in-depth rules of the game as well as sections on the Warhammer World (detailing the his-
tory of the land and the fifteen different armies that constantly fight there), the Warhammer Hobby (everything you need to know about painting and assembling of miniatures) and a “Gaming” section that contains three scenarios and ideas on different ways to play and expand your own games. The game itself is played on any suitable surface (a 6' by 4' table being a good example) by two or more players who wage war with their chosen army of miniatures. Armies of orcs, goblins, dwarves, elves, undead, skaven, lizardmen, etc., battle it out to either complete objectives or just annihilate the enemy. The game play is turn based, and follows a pattern of troop movements, a ranged shooting
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WARHAMMER - Continued round, magic casting round and a combat round. Combat is worked out via a unit's stats, number of creatures in the unit and dice rolls. If a squadron of 20 goblins attack some dwarves and the goblins stand in a formation with six at the front, six D6 are rolled to see how many of those gobbos hit; goblins might be pretty nimble so they only need to roll a two or higher to do this. If four of the green skins hit, then four D6 are rolled to see how many of the hits cause wounds on the dwarves (individual characters within a unit can receive one wound, once they receive it they die, larger figures like heroes or trolls can have two or more wounds).
“...the more you put in the more you get out of it.”
Goblins may be nimble but they sure aren't strong, rolls of four or higher are needed to cause wounds and only three of the four hits make contact. Next the defending dwarves get a chance to roll three D6 to try and block the three wounds; dwarves are tough and only need to roll a two or higher to see the goblin swords bounce off their armor. At the end of the round, one dwarf falls to the ground dead and the rest of them get ready to start swinging with axes and hammers. Once the dwarves have taken their turn, the two opposing units weigh up the skirmish by comparing the difference in points gained in the battle. Points are gained for how many of the enemy are killed, carrying a confidence building banner and/or outnumbering their foe. Dice are again rolled based on these points, to see if the two units continue to fight it out in the next round or if one of the units panics and runs. Fleeing troops roll dice to see how far they can run and then try to regroup, while the other unit has the option to chase them down and try to finish them off, or move off to engage another unit. Ok, so this is a very simplified (and probably wildly inaccurate) run down of the game play but it gets the point across of how easy it is to start
playing, and of course the more you play the more complicated the rules can get. This seems to be true of all aspects of Warhammer and indeed Games Workshop; the more you put in the more you get out of it. Games Workshop put a lot of time and effort into creating quality products and keeping their stores friendly and family orientated. The story of Games Workshop starts in an apartment in London back in 1975, where Ian Livingstone, Steve Jackson, and John Peake started the company with the intention of making and selling new games. They started off as a mail-order company and manufactured wooden board games like Backgammon right there in the flat. They wrote and published their own magazine, Owl and Weasel, in the hopes that it would get their name known and generate some business. Somewhere along the line, a copy fell into the hands of Gary Gygax, co-creator of a brand new and highly srcinal game…Dungeons & Dragons. D&D had been turned down by all the major game companies in the U.S. and so Gygax was trying to distribute the game himself from an apartment in Wisconsin under the name TSR Hobbies. A review copy of D&D was sent to Game Workshop and immediately Livingstone and Jackson were hooked. They ordered six copies of the game, dedicated an issue of Owl and Weasel to the game, signed a three year deal for the European distribution rights, and the orders started to flood in.
“The story of Games Workshop starts in an apartment in London back in 1975....”
The role-playing game has taking the world by storm and more and more companies were jumping on the bandwagon and creating new RPG's. Games Workshop was picking up the distribution right for Europe and the next logical step was to open a shop. To help advertise the new shop Livingston and Jackson decided to create a new
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WARHAMMER - Continued magazine dedicated to the world of RPG's and gaming. In the summer of '77, the first issue of White Dwarf was printed and in the spring of '78 the first Games Workshop store opened. People were traveling from all over Europe to visit the shop and more and more stores had to open to meet the increasing demand for fantasy gaming. Also, at this time, the use of small, metal miniatures while playing RPG's was on the increase, so Livingston and Jackson started another company to design and manufacture them called Citadel Miniatures. These figurines, depicting all manner of fantastical creatures, quickly caught the publics' eye and became highly collectable. Livingston and Jackson's next big brainstorm was the idea to merge the interactive aspect of an RPG with a book and so the Fighting Fantasy Gamebook was born in 1981. Titles like "The Warlock of Firetop Mountain" and "Deathtrap Dungeon" sold by the thousands and introduced even more people to the world of fantasy gaming. The demand for these game books gradually made Livingston and Jackson move away from Games Workshop so they could concentrate on writing; and the years after that, saw them slowly move into the world of computer games where Livingston helped to introduce the world to a young woman named Lara Croft.
Over the years, the Warhammer universe has continued to expand in different forms. New miniatures are constantly designed and released by Citadel, a science fiction version of the game is available called Warhammer 40,000, there's a Warhammer fantasy role-playing game, as well as hundreds of novels set in this land of eternal conflict. There are individual source books and collectors guides for each of the different armies available, giving detailed histories of the race and the miniatures available. The popularity of the Lord of the Rings movies has drawn more people into the world of fantasy gaming, and Games Workshop secured the rights for the tabletop battle version and a series of miniatures based on the designs used in the film. “The Warhammer hobby encourages people to collect and paint their armies for use on the battlefield. The more you put into your army, the more effective it becomes in the game.”
While Livingston and Jackson were creating the Fighting Fantasy series, Citadel Miniatures was quickly becoming the biggest miniature selling company in the world. People were constantly buying and painting all the models they could. While these models were being used a handful at a time in RPG's, Games Workshop decided it would be a good idea to devise a set of rules that would allow players to use all the miniatures they had in one giant battle; and so in 1983, the first edition of Warhammer was released. It became immensely popular and quickly began to out sell
It really is the miniatures that draw people into Warhammer; a fully painted army of orcs or elves placed on a well-built tabletop landscape is an impressive sight. The Warhammer hobby encourages people to collect and paint their armies for use on the battlefield. The more you put into your army, the more effective it becomes in the game. The rules keep the game balanced though. Before each battle the players agree on a number of points that can be spent on an army, say 2000, and each regiment of troops has it own point value; a unit of 20 tough Dwarven Hammerers might cost over 300 pts to place on the table and the goblin army could spend the same amount of points on 30 Night Goblins and a unit of 10 Wolf Riders. Owning more miniatures won't give a player an advantage by outnumbering with strong troops, but having a better selec-
all other games on the market. Its popularity led Games Workshop to stop selling other gaming products and the magazine White Dwarf exclusively covered the same range.
tion to chose fro m at the start might. A good choice of units and how they are deployed and moved in the battle will make or break it for the player. Luck plays a big part in the game (look on
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WARHAMMER - Continued and laugh as your opponent rolls eight dice, only to see eight little snake eyes looking back up at them) but a good battle strategy can be hard to beat. The simplicity of the rules means the game never becomes long, drawn out or boring, in fact the battle can move along at a furious pace.
The following images are from the Games-Workshop/ Warhammer website:
The best way to experience the Warhammer universe is to go to your local Games Workshop and have a look. The staff are eager to tell you all about the world of table-top battles and will run you through the basic rules and have you playing a trial game in no time. Games Workshop run regular competitions and in-store events for both long-time hobbyists and beginners alike. “...if you are looking to get started, you really can’t go wrong with the Battle for Skull Pass set: rules, dice and two armies ready to charge into battle.... Waaagh!
The stores are always a hive of activity, with people playing games and painting miniatures. Games Workshop maintains a friendly and family-oriented atmosphere and run beginners days for children. Once you played a quick rules game you can book yourself in for a game session, where they will run you through a full battle and explain all the rules to you in detail. Then it's just a matter of picking the army of miniatures you want to start collecting and battling your opponents with. Of course, if you are looking to get started, you really can't go wrong with the Battle for Skull Pass set: rules, dice and two armies ready to charge into battle.… Waaagh! If you're interested in Warhammer, Citadel Miniatures or any of the Games Workshop products, all the information needed can be found at: www.games-workshop.com
Special thanks to Paul Hickey and Rob Riley at Games Workshop in Dublin, Ireland, for all the help.
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Portrait of a Character Here we take a little time to spotlight the very ones without whom there would be no role-playing games at all--the characters! This issue we’ll begin with our own Phil Lynch (Philhappy) as he spends a few moments with an enterprising Brownie from the World of Layonara:
Bumblebee He may be a brownie and only stands 20 inches tall, but what he lacks in stature he makes up for with a hearty laugh and some big ideas. He takes a low bow and introduces himself: Poaspmihpihih…or Bumblebee, in the common tongue. Bumblebee was raised by his parents in the attic of a grain merchant in Prantz. It was here that he learned the skills to survive; killing rats with a single shot from his small bow and staying out of the sight of the tall folk. His inquisitive nature led him out of the attic and into the shadows of Prantz where, perched on a crate or sitting in a dark corner, he watched and learned the ways of the tall folk in the city. As his confidence and skill with the bow increased, so did his desire to travel and seek out adventure. And so, bidding farewell to his family, Bumblebee set off for the city of Lor, looking for high adventure and news of other brownies in the land. However, the path he took, led him to dreams of dragons and a small town called Hlint. It was here that Bumblebee created The Dragons Whisper. Originally started as a way of trying to find more brownies, The Dragons Whisper has grown to become the biggest selling newspaper on Layonara. Bumblebee's skills at staying unnoticed helped secure stories and information that would have otherwise gone unheard andThe Dragons Whisper is now essential reading for adventurers across the land. We were able to talk him out of a few moments of his busy schedule to sit down with us for more to his fantastic tale....
WHAT IS LIFE LIKE AS A BROWNIE?
It is actually quite lonely. Lasting relationships with fellow brownies, dispersed by events on the Serpent Isle of Daraghan, are few and far between. I had expected to find more of my kin during my own journeys; others seeking answers to their own personal questions. Alas, in my five years away from home I have come across but a single hand's count of them. WHY DID YOU START A NEWSPAPER?
Really it began as a way to find more brownies. My first issues, written on the back of previously used parchments, were short and included a message for them. Not a single one, though, responded to my queries. After a time, as The
Dragon's Whisper grew in reputation and sub-
scribers, my purpose became one of preservation. The war with Bloodstone was raging during these years, and I felt that this period of history ought to be recorded for future generations of all races. That continues to be my goal: to record the doings of those that will one day be recalled in legends and lore. THE DRAGONS WHISPER HAS BECOME AN INVALUABLE SOURCE OF INFORMATION FOR ADVENTURERS. DID IT TAKE LONG FOR YOUR RE ADERSHIP TO GROW?
Perhaps the largest obstacle to increasing the number of readers is my own lack of salesmanship. I am not a skilled orator, nor am I a skilled storyteller for that matter. During the first year of
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Portrait: Bumblebee - Continued the newsletter, I had not the confidence to approach many travelers. We brownies are a reclusive folk: I was raised to stay out of sight. Gradually, I knew and recognized more of the people that if not residents at least were commonly seen in Hlint. I would approach a few mentioning the newsletter and ask for tales to be shared. Some would purchase a newsletter perhaps paying for several issues in advance. It would have been impossible for any of this without falcon messengers. Their reliability is legendary, as I am sure you are aware, and I used them exclusively. Even during my first year when coins went for parchment while I went hungry.
HOW DID YOU GET IN TO ADVENTURING? ISN'T IT A LITTLE DIFFICULT GETTING THE RESPECT OF SOME OF THE NEFARIOUS CREATURES AND FELLOW ADVENTURERS OUT THERE GIVEN YOUR STATURE?
Absolutely. I have neither the skills nor the constitution to address many of the problems that arise during travel. That, I leave to the ones that make there living doing such things. Though I lend what aid I may, of course, I do not pretend to be more than an assisting hand. More than once I have made my excuses and returned to trails known to be safe.
WHAT'S THE HARDEST THING ABOUT RUNNING A NEWSPAPER?
Truly, the most difficult thing is completing a tale. Often a whisper will reach my ears only to go no further. A tale without an ending will not become a legend of much regard. The town criers, though well connected, deal in such hints and innuendos. My greatest challenge is weaving the many whispers together until their conclusion. To make up for my own shortcomings as a storyteller, I often implore more seasoned travelers to part with tales already complete. Some do willingly, others do with much cajoling, but most share nothing. It is understandable since these travelers daily bread consists of surviving to greet the next day. It is because I know some will fall with stories untold that I continue to strain to hear the whispered tale of legend on the air.
Part of an announcement of a past Special Edition of The Dragon’s Whisper.
WHAT ARE YOUR HOPES FOR THE FUTURE, BOTH FOR YOURSELF & THE NEWSPAPER?
The most? I get to see all of the world. Every corner contains a relic of the past, a story in need of recovery. How many crumbling ruins of
With continued support from patrons and subscribers, perhaps someday The Dragon's Whisper will become more than myself. The tales will continue with or without their recording for permanence. Now that you mention it, perhaps my legacy will be a newsletter that will, decades from now, still be referred to by the bards of
castles a glance? How chasmsare withpassed hints ofwithout a stairway beckon onemany downward? And what better excuse to venture forth with other travelers than to seek out these stories? What I like most is the inherent excuse for travel.
tomorrow for their material. If youorwould to purchase The Dragons Whisper start like a subscription, contact Bumblebee or take a look at the notices in the Wild Surge Inn. It is available for 100gp an issue and is delivered by messenger falcon.
WHAT DO YOU LIKE MOST ABOUT RUNNING A NEWSPAPER?
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Portrait of a Character We continue now with one of the characters in his player’s own words describing his first visit to the hamlet of Hlint. Here is:
Andy Mellecker (Guardian 452/Enzo) As Enzo passes through the small frontier town of Hlint, he notices a halfling and a man dressed in green speaking to Granvil about his trade
the room; at one table, a husband and wife were discussing the possibility of a third child; at another, two men were making snide comments
routes. He watches fortoa amoment blinks, his mind transporting him similar and scene, to the day he arrived in Hlint so many years ago. Instead of this halfling, there is Merry Thorn, the Halfling Ranger who took Enzo out to help slay the leader of the goblins that plague Granvil's trade routes. In the back of his mind he can hear Merry say, "I don't know how to hide…it's you tall folk who don't know how to look!" He remembers fondly all the things that Merry taught him about using the shadows before the memory recedes once more and the halfling is again a stranger.
about theirbeen waitress. An old man at yet another table had complaining that his food wasn't prepared in the exact way he ordered it. Enzo's mind had left all of these conversations as soon as they reached his ears, but one topic caught his attention. It seemed then that some adventurers were discussing what god each of them served. He heard all the names he'd heard before, like Lucinda, Dorand, and Ilsare, but a quiet ranger mentioned a name that Enzo had heard but rarely on the lips of other rangers. The name was Folian S'pae. Enzo finished his meal, tossed a generous amount of coin on the table, and walked over to the ranger to ask him if they could talk a moment. The ranger nodded and the two moved to a quieter table, where Enzo cut right to the chase and asked about the name
Enzo shakes his head with his usual half-grin and enters the Wild Surge Inn, making his way to a table and sitting as usual with his back against the wall. The muted talk of other patrons blurs together, the familiarity of got the up scene him back and to replay the day he the sends nerve to ask about The Prince of Wolves. He had been sitting alone, listening to the conversations about
Folian of S'pae. The ranger justallgrinned asked, "What him?" Enzo asked kinds ofand questions, one right after the other, and in such numbers that the ranger hardly had a chance to answer. Finally, the ranger held out his hand and said, "You won't find him, no matter how hard you look. I don't care if you can track a snowflake through a blizzard, you won't find him. But if you hold to the path and do not stray from what you believe, he just may find you." He looks up as the waitress approaches his table, and after a moment to clear his mind he orders his meal. Meeting New Friends
Enzo Reynolt.
We find Enzo today at his desk at the Wolfswood Ranger Headquarters. Stacked in front of
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Portrait: Enzo - Continued him are duty rosters and other documents that await his signature. He sighs as he looks at the large pile and picks up the first sheet; it is a report on a patrol of the Eastern edge of the Wolfswoods Forest from 2nd Lieutenant Duran Melden. The name swims in front of him as he is reminded of his dwarven friend Duran Axehaft and of his other friends: Plenarius, Arenis, Rhizome, and Elrond…"The Red Caps," they had called themselves. Enzo glances at a worn and dented helmet of adamantium sitting next to his desk and smiles slightly, remembering the day Plenarius had handed him that helmet and how proud he had felt wearing it amongst his peers. As images of past Red Cap adventures dance in his head, he imagines for a moment that he can hear clearly Duran's famous battle cry… "For Me Pal, Vorax!" Enzo grins and actually laughs out loud (though thankfully he was alone in the building at the time). His mind drudges up an image of Rhizome as Enzo remembers meeting him for the first time, and how the two of them grew to become the best of friends. Even the love of the same women did not sever the friendship they had formed. As he realizes that he's still holding the report in his hand, the memories fade and the Commander of the Wood reluctantly goes back to work. A few days have passe d now, and after diggi ng some sand on the shore of Lake Alon, Enzo sits next to the creek that feeds the lake to take a much-needed break. As he drifts in and out of a doze, he cannot help but remember the day he first met Nawen, an elven druid, in this very spot. He reaches into a pocket of his clothing and pulls out a worn, tattered piece of parchment. On it is the poem he was inspired to write about his first love. As she walks by I stop and stare. Her face and smile so soft and fair. In her eyes I can drift away. It's in those eyes that I wish to stay.
Stay forever and not go back. And remove the weight of the world from my back. When she puts her hand in mine. It's as if she stops the sands of time. In her arms I feel safe and warm. In those arms none can bring me harm. She knows of my hopes and all of my fears. She says she can taste them in my tears. How will I make through each day? It's in those eyes I shall find my way.
He looks through the parchment without seeing it as he remembers when he had to let her go because she wanted to be with Rhizome. He had always told her that it didn't bother him, but it always had…he never felt right traveling with the both of them. In time he could not suppress his feelings any longer, and he finally confronted Nawen, only to find out that she shared his feelings. Rhizome had been furious when he found out.... Corath take you!!" he had shouted in his friend's face. Enzo had won his love back…but it had cost him his dearest friend--or at least that is what he had thought at the time. In time Rhizome came to accept what took place, and they all continued on…and then one day she was gone. No letter, no goodbye…just…gone. Where could she have gone? The memory and the question retreat to the back of his mind for the day and Enzo stands to call for the hawk he had seen circling overhead. He gives it the tattered poem and instructs the hawk to seek out a certain elven woman and deliver it to her. Finding His Father
In his home in the Ranger's Vale, Enzo leans back in his chair and looks to the fireplace and his bow leaning beside it. His family had been attacked by a pack of wolves, long ago…he can still see the image of the wolf sinking its teeth into his father's arm, and his mother being mauled to death by another, but try as he might,
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Portrait: Enzo - Continued he cannot recall the moment that he took his father's bow into his own hands and drew back its mighty string to kill the wolves that had attacked them. Above the fireplace still hangs a shield used by his father Wellman Reynolt when he was a member of the Wolfswood corps. Wellman had lost his right arm below the elbow in that fight, and Enzo had looked after his father from then on, and can still remember the day the senior Reynolt had vanished. Enzo had tracked him for days before eventually losing his trail, and then he'd found himself in Hlint, being taken around town by Merry Thorn. Years had passed and Enzo had focused on a new task--defeating Sinthar Bloodstone, though he had never given up on finding his father. It was years ago that he finally had--he and Rhizome had discovered Wellman in Lar, and Enzo can visualize the right cross he'd landed on his father's jaw after walking up to him. He'd been so upset that he'd just up and vanished. In time, he grew to accept his father's way of telling Enzo that it was time for him to move on. Seemingly spurred into action by this memory, Enzo grabs his bow and heads out the door into the Sielwood Forest. Tainted Blood
Another day, and in another place, the far-traveling ranger spies something in the distance while passing through the Dark Forest of Dregar. His hand clenches tightly around his bow, making the leather of his glove crackle as he says in a flat, hushed voice: "Vampire...." A silver-tipped arrow is nocked while he watches it from a distance, remembering his duel with the Dark Dawn Hunter years ago. Enzo was bitten by him and found himself slowly becoming what he most despised. His vision centers on his target as he recalls how "The Red Caps" had come to his aid then, and how he had triumphed over the Dark Dawn Hunter in a second duel. The images in front of him contort against his will to the memories of Nawen lying in his arms, tainted with vampiric blood and with a
stake thrust into her chest by his own hands. As he relives the event in the present, his mind becomes a red haze and the vampire he was stalking is slain and a stake driven into its heart. The Broken Forest
Enzo skirts the places of devastation in the Broken Forest, slipping unseen past the vicious crawling vines that now lurk within these woods. He can't help but think back on how it used to be, recalling a time where every inch of these woods was crawling with undead. He pauses to rest against one of the trees as he takes stock of its current state, slowly merging it in his mind with its past and the events that occurred here. "Triba...." he whispers. The "Lil' Ranger" Triba, Enzo, Rhizome, Ozy, and others had helped to remove that heavy taint of undead from this forest years ago, all but the one area… Selian had appeared and asked that they not disturb the grave that lay in the clearing. Seeing the now disturbed grave and knowing now the purpose it had served, he says quietly aloud, "I can see why you didn't want us to mess with it now...."
Enzo in the desert.
Becoming a Wolfswood Ranger
Now a hot summer day, Enzo stops in the Wolfswood Forest as he spies a Dire Bear a hundred yards or so away. As he studies the animal
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Portrait: Enzo - Continued from a distance, he remembers Scratch, the enormous dire bear Dimitri (an outcast member of the Wolfswood Elite Ranger Corps) had traveled with. Dimitri was forced to leave the corps after slaying the son of a nobleman. Enzo had learned about him from Johan the fur trader; Dimitri had a reputation that left this ranger in awe. The nobleman Gordon Flint had hatched a sinister plan to kill Dimitri and destroy the Wolfswood Forest in the process, all to avenge the death of his son. His mind replays the events that unfolded for him, and then he sees her…his first love Nawen, her identity so hard to accept because it couldn't have been her, she was…a vampire. Enzo's eyes close as he sees again Nawen lying in his arms. She had been about to sink her teeth into Rhizome's neck, his friend who was unconscious beside them. He had the heart-wrenching choice of Rhizome's life or the stake. If he wished to save his friend, he would have to kill his first love.... He had made his choice, if it could even be called that, and the stake was driven through Nawen's chest. As she lay in his arms, she started to change…looking more like her old self. She thanked Enzo for setting her free, and with a single touch she revived Rhizome, and freed the Wolfswood from the curse the Baron Flint had set upon it…and then she was gone. For helping the forest, Enzo was granted membership into the Wolfswood Ranger Corps, but Nawen was no less gone. He shakes his head to clear his mind of nostalgia and continues through the Wolfswood Forest until he realizes he is just about to enter the part of the woods where the nymph resides. He grins as he recalls the day he was taken deep within her tree and shown the true meaning of passion, though he hadn't realized until his friends informed him later that he was lucky to have survived. With an amused glance in that direction, he says to himself, "Better not go through here, not sure I can handle that a second time…hmm, but what a way to go!" Enzo chuckles to himself and takes a different route through the forest. Rescuing His Father From the Drow
As Enzo makes the climb to the snowy little town of Lar, he is, as always, reminded of when he had come to his father's home there and found it ransacked, his father missing. The drow had kidnapped him and used Gordon Flint as some kind of cover up…with the help of his friends he found his father in Flint's home and freed him, but those events had only furthered the hatred for drow still present in Enzo, encouraging him to spend much time studying them, learning their weaknesses, and learning to take full advantage of them in battle. Goodbye to an Old Companion
Enzo stood in a densely wooded section of the Wolfswoods forest with his companion at his side, Thornas, a wild boar that Enzo had rescued years before, all the way back to when he was first called by the golden dragon. The ranger sat himself on a stump and patted his thigh for Thornas to move closer. The boar nuzzled his snout under Enzo's hand and had his nose scratched in return. Enzo couldn't help but notice that the hairs around his friend's nose and eyes had grayed significantly in the past year. "It is that time old friend.... It's time for you to go back to the woods again." Thornas tilted his head to look up at Enzo. "You're gettin' too old to be runnin' off with me on my half-baked adventures. It's time you settled down, while you still can." Thornas shifted his feet as he looked up at Enzo, who could sense that his old friend was asking something like, "Why now?" Why Enzo would want him to go now, after all that time together. "I can't stand the thought of seeing you hurt because of the things I drag you into, my old friend. You know as well as I do that you're no match for some of the things I face these days. Hells, sometimes I'm not a match for it myself." Thornas seemed saddened, but the ranger could see that he understood what Enzo was telling him. "Now, don't you think I will be forgettin' you. I will come to see you from time to time as I pass through the Wolfswoods."
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Portrait: Enzo - Continued Enzo slid off the stump he had been sitting on, and gave the boar a hug. "Now, go on and find some goblins ta pester." He smiled while scratching the boar's head. Thornas snorted and rubbed his nose on Enzo's face, and then he slowly walked off into the forest, stopping every few yards to look back at his old comrade. Enzo managed to get a few words out for him. "It is for the best…goodbye, my friend." With that, he got up and walked away, vanishing into the forest. Now, we find Enzo deep in the tainted woods of the Dark Forest. He easily goes unnoticed in the forest as black as pitch, sticking always to the shadows as he slinks along the wood line. He passes enormous spiders and dark treants as he cautiously makes his way to a swampy section within the forest. There he avoids numerous spiders, each one seeming more powerful than the last. He dares not give away his position to any of them.
Enzo at the edge of a cliff.
He makes his way to a stone entrance jutting up from the dark soil and thinks to himself, "This must be Mosscrypt that I have heard of. Some say it is the cause of the taint in these woods." As Enzo approaches the crypt from the rear, a figure emerges from its shadowed entrance. Enzo can sense that this is a being of significant power and instinctively hits the deck, hiding behind the ledge of the entrance. Peering over it
just enough to observe the figure, he watches it lower its hands to the ground and then in a trembling motion raised them skywards as if commanding something from the earth itself. The ground shakes in response, and a mass of skeletons drags itself out of it a moment later. Enzo can see that these are nothing like the walking bones in the crypts of Hlint…these are more dangerous by far. The dark figure then points down into the Mosscrypt, snaps his fingers, and then from out of it comes an enormous golem, the likes of which Enzo has seen maybe only once before. Its entire body glimmers with a metallic sheen similar to that of a polished suit of adamantium. The summoner points again to one direction and then another; the skeletons leaving one by one to where they are commanded. Enzo crawls back to the wood line before getting up and following one skeleton eastward…it approaches a few panthers that are huddled in a corner of the clearing. The summoned creature just walks right up to one of them with the sound that only walking bones can make, and in one fell swoop of its staff slays it. Enzo's hand instinctively grasps his sword as he flinches, but then the skeleton turns and also kills a nearby spider. This puzzles the ranger somewhat, but before he has time to think about it, the undead has turned again and killed the second of the panther trio. At this, Enzo creeps forward slightly, waiting until just before the last panther is to be struck down before leaping from the shadows. He is not fully prepared for the battle that he has started, and suffers for it, taking a beating from the powerful skeleton until he sees the panther lunge from behind him to strike as well. Seeing this helps Enzo to draw upon an inner strength, and he puts all his might behind his blade to finally best his enemy. His sword drops to the ground as his hand automatically grasps at a gaping wound in his side. While applying what bandages he has to stop the bleeding for now, he notices that the panther is
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Portrait: Enzo - Continued still standing there watching him. Enzo speaks to the panther in a deep, saddened voice. "I'm sorry I could not save your friends, sleek one." The panther looks up at him and gives a nod of its head before streaking off into the thick forest cover and vanishing. As for Enzo, he heads back the way he came from looking for a place to rest and recover from the wounds he was dealt in the battle. As he walks, though, he can sense that he is being watched from the tree cover, a stalker that follows his steps. He finds a quiet spot a few hundred yards away from the swamp and settles down to recuperate; but all the while, he can sense his silent watcher. As Enzo relaxes by the small fire he has set and slowly nods off into a light doze, a twig snaps behind him. In an instant he is alert again, but not yet acting--keeping his body still and his eyes closed. A few seconds pass, and another snap is heard, closer than the last. His hand slides down to his sword in a silent, subtle motion as his finely tuned senses catches the sound of movement that can't be more than five feet from him. He waits for a few more seconds for it to come yet closer, then in a flash whips around with his sword in hand, only to find, standing inches from the tip of his blade, the last of the three panthers, the one he had intervened for. It stares at him with unblinking eyes that glint green in the firelight, and Enzo slowly lowers his sword and extends his hand. Slowly the sleek feline approaches him, sniffing the hand before coming right up beside him and lying down between Enzo and the fire.
gather his belongings to set out. Looking over his shoulder he asks, "Well, come on Shadow--are you coming?" The panther leaped to his feet in response and rubbed his body against Enzo's legs, nearly knocking him down as his new friend chuckled and scratched his head. "Come on now, you and I have a lot to get done...." The two of them enter the forest together and vanish after just a few yards. Enzo's Loves
Enzo catches a glimpse of men gathered outside and in curiosity, he gets up from his desk to look. He notices that an elven female has stopped in the outskirts and is talking with them. He cracks his half-grin when he realizes it is Ireth. They are like children trying to show off to their friends in front of her, and she just smirks at them. Ireth looks off towards the headquarters and spies Enzo watching from the window. She gives him a playful wink and goes back to talking with the men clustered around her. Watching Ireth, he thinks idly of the women in his life: of Nawen and how much he had loved her; of Ly'Sylria, another elven druid that he had loved, who had also vanished; of Brisbane, and how he had nearly lost her as a friend when they thought they were becoming more than that. He glances over at this elf and mumbles to himself, "This one isn't a druid, you know...." At that, he grins and returns Ireth's wink before going back to his pile of papers.
Enzo
"Well, I'm glad to see you made it out of that swamp; it looks like you're as good as me at hiding in the shadows." He scratches the panther's head and strokes his hand down the fur of its back. The ranger cuts off a shank of meat that he had over the fire, and sets it down in front of the panther, who takes his time sniffing it before eating the offering, purring loudly as he does. They sit together by the fire for a few hours until the sun begins to crest the tree line in the morning. Enzo gets up to cover the fire with sand and
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Get to Know Phaere Cover Artist and Illustrator for Dragon’s Whisper and other Layonara Projects http://phaere-tail.tripod.com/
* I made the face in Facegen with my own picture. So it sort of looks like me, but it also does not.
-Phaere
YOU HAVE A FANTASTIC TALENT IN ILLUSTRATION. HOW DID YOU GET STARTED AND WHY?
I've always had a passion for drawing. I have been painting and drawing since I was a little kid, and I still love it as much as I did then. When I was young, I used to draw all sorts of things, varying from people to scenes and landscapes. I would also copy characters from Donald Duck or Asterix comics. When I was a teenager, I was crazy about Manga films and comics and used to draw in that style; I was not very good at it. After I received my high school diploma, I decided I wanted to do more with drawing. However, I did not feel confident enough for the big schools. I went to a private art school for two years where I learned to paint and learned all types of art and the history of art. After that, I attended a higher art school (Amsterdam School
of the Arts) where I could get a bachelor's degree in teaching fine arts and design. I was a little disappointed with what I learned at this school, and they never allowed me to paint and draw what I really wanted. During my first year, I took a Photoshop course. I got to know the program and highly appreciated it. In my last year, I did an extra assignment working with a Wacom tablet for the first time. I was immediately intrigued by the idea of painting digitally, and I knew I had to get a tablet myself. I got to know the World of Dungeons & Dragons because of my boyfriend. He and his friends had played Pen and Paper adventures for several years and I was invited to join the group. It inspired me to play games like Baldur's Gate and Icewind Dale. And when I knew Neverwinter Nights (NwN) was being released, I just had to have it--because of the toolkit. When I graduated from school, I got my own
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Phaere - Continued tablet and in my free time I was trying to learn how to make my own module in NwN. I was not good at it---I did not have the patience for it. I made a few custom portraits in Photoshop, and after a while all I was doing was making portraits for modules I was planning to make one day. Now, three years after graduation at the age 26, I am still making portraits. I think I have made over 200 portraits since I first started. HOW DO YOU CREATE YOUR ILLUSTRATIONS AND HOW LONG, ON AVERAGE, DOES IT TAKE FOR YOU TO CREATE ONE OF YOUR ILLUSTRATIONS?
Usually when I start work on a character, either from a description or from my own imagination, I picture the character in my head. At that point, I already have an idea of how I want the portrait to be. When I start work, when all goes well, I usually take a day. But if the picture involves complex armor or lots of decorations, which take more work, it could be up to two days of work. COULD YOU EXPLAIN THE PROCESS THAT YOU GO THROUGH IN ORDER TO COMPLETE A HIGH-QUALITY PORTRAIT?
My technique has changed a lot since I first started. I will describe the way I work right now. I usually start with either the head or the body. With the head, I will start with a 3-D face from the program FaceGen. I make the face as I want it, and adjust lighting and save it as a jpg. As base for the body, I use the program Poser. I pose the body the way I want the character to be, adjust lighting to match the face, and render it. Then the most work begins. In Photoshop, I will put the head on the body and then I have my base on top of which I can start painting. Usually, I start by painting the hair, or I start repainting and editing the face. I rework the skin and add new lighting and colors. After all that, I will paint in basic colors for the costume/armor.
The designing of the costume takes place in that stage--I invent it as I go along, but sometimes I change things along the way. At last, I will paint the background with special made brushes and textures. When the background is finished, I will try to merge the character and background as best I can. Usually, by aligning the colors and lighting of the two. That's it. Then usually it's done. NOW THAT YOU'VE ATTENDED "DRAWING SCHOOL" AND EARNED YOUR DIPLOMA FROM AMSTERDAMSE HOGESCHOOL VOOR DE KUNSTEN, WHAT DO YOU HAVE PLANNED NEXT?
Well, I have had my diploma for over three years now. Right now, I know I want to improve my digital creations and get further with that. As for teaching, not right now. Maybe in the future, who knows? But nothing's planned so far. I work as a telephonist at a customer care service for a company to earn my money. In my free time, I work on my digital art. HOW LONG HAVE YOU BEEN INVOLVED IN THE NWN COMMUNITY AND WHY DID YOU GET INVOLVED?
I got interesting in NwN after playing the first Bioware games like Baldur's Gate. What interested me most was the option to make your own games because they provided the game engine with the game. I bought NwN sometime in
Phaere illustration at http://phaere-tail.tripod.com/id2.html.
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Phaere - Continued 2003. I soon got to know nwvault.ign.com as a great community where people worked hard to give the game a little extra. When I saw people were also making their own custom portraits, I was immediately interested to get involved. I decided it would be fun to make my own portraits and add them to the vault. Though honestly, these first portraits were really bad. I mean, really bad, but it was a start. I cannot say I am perfectly happy right now, but I like where I'm headed. NOTE: To see some of Phaere's work, visit: http://nwvault.ign.com/fms/Image.php?id=26135.
word is always: practice. With every portrait, I feel I have learned something new.
WHEN ASKED TO PROVIDE ILLUSTRATIONS FOR LAYONARA, WHAT PROMPTED YOU TO DO SO?
When I looked around on the website and saw the Layonara Handbook I knew this was a great world to work with-beautifully designed. It's also a great challenge to provide images for an entire legion of gods. I was immediately inspired when I read their descriptions.
Look for more of Phaere’s work in our next issue.
DO YOU HAVE ANY LAST WORDS TO SHARE WITH THE READERS?
I started making portraits for the fun of it, but I found over these last years it is so rewarding when you are improving and people appreciate your work. I have had so many emails from people, sometimes just to let me know they like my work. I still feel I need to improve but the key-
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Review: The Serenity Role-Playing Game From the Dark Ages to the Outer Reaches of the Universe by Charles Tallman (CHAzz) For fans of the show, or Browncoats as they are commonly known, I'm not going to need to do much in the way of background. But for those of you who haven't been exposed to Firefly, don't
culture, so everything is a mixture of American and Chinese.
worry, I'vethis got is you covered. Keep in mind, however, that a review of the RPG, and not the television show, or its silver screen companion. As such, I will endeavor to keep the spoilers to a minimum, and only touch on things that become apparent after perhaps the first third of the pilot episode. I'm also not going to be discussing my opinions of, or making comparisons between, the film and series. I'll save that for a future article.
The setting is technically space-opera style science fiction, with a heavy dose of western flavor. You get plenty of laser guns, spaceships, futuristic medical equipment, an overbearing interplanetary government, and also a heavy dose of horses, cattle rustling, six-shooters, and bar brawls. For the twist, there's a space-age
Serenity the RPG is based on the film of the same name, which is further based on the wildly popular yet short lived Sci-Fi/Western television series by Joss Whedon. Published by Margaret Weis Productions, Ltd., and written by Jamie Chambers, it includes short fiction pieces by Margaret Weis.
“Serenity the RPG is based on the film of the same name, which is further based on the wildly popular yet short lived Sci-Fi/Western television series by Joss Whedon.”
The premise is that humanity has left its galactic cradle after "Earth got used up.” Having migrated in huge generational starships to a new solar system in which we terraform everything we can. At some point in developing our new multi-planet civilization, war breaks out between those who want a centralized government and those who want independent planet-states. The game is set after this conflict, in which the faction for independence, known as Browncoats, have lost. Another point of interest, is the emphasis of the two surviving super-powers from "Earth-that-was" have had the most influence on the developing
quasi Geisha character class, instead of whisky people drink sake, and everybody speaks both English and Mandarin (although the latter tends to be heavily accented with cowboy drawl.) The basic game mechanic used is a simple attribute die plus skill die roll, versus a difficulty set by the GM. Dice used are d2, d4, d6, d8, Image from http://www. d10, and d12. serenityrpg.com/ Conspicuously missing is the d20, probably to separate this game further from the current d20 trend. Attributes and skills are assigned die codes, increasing up
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Serenity - Continued to d12 and then adding a second die, starting from d2 and moving up the list again. Character creation is a fairly straightforward point-buy system; the GM sets a "heroic level," which determines how many points you get to spend on attributes, you get further points for skills. Finally, there is an asset/complication system similar to that used in White Wolf's World of Darkness system. The writing style is very informal with lots of "wild west" slangy type stuff thrown in to spice it up; as if you were having a conversation with an old spacer in a bar somewhere. The story bits at the beginning of each chapter are interesting and certainly help convey a feel for the setting. The book has plenty of stock NPC’s as well as several specific NPC’s from the film. There are also stats and brief write-ups for the crew of Serenity as well as the boat herself. As I already mentioned, character building is a snap, and the book also has a section on ship and vehicle building. There is a generous history and background section and write-ups on the planets. Also included is a slang and Chinese dictionary. Seeing as the book was timed to release alongside the film, it contains plenty of references and NPC’s from Serenity. What it lacks, however, is more than only passing references to the television show, most in the form of flavor text. I really wanted a few NPC’s, say Badger at the very least. I also got the impression from the series that the 'Verse as its called, was larger than what
is portrayed in the book, but that certainly is easy to fix in-game. The asset/complication system, while interesting and certainly helpful to fleshing out characters, can unbalance things. I also got the impression that quite a bit was being left to the discretion of the GM. Certainly any game should give the GM leeway to maneuver within its ruleset; though, I prefer a little bit more codification, just to help give direction with things. The book runs to just over 220 pages, and while average in length for a hardcover nowadays, the $40 price tag seems a bit steep to me, no matter how many books Wizards cranks out at that same price and page count. And as a final note, the aforementioned dictionary does contain some language not entirely suitable for tender ears and mouths, so a word of caution to parents and those with younguns in their group, as with any product check it out before buying it to make sure you approve of and are comfortable with the content. “...character building is a snap, and the book also has a section on ship and vehicle building. There is a generous history and background section and write-ups on the planets .”
Overall, I was pleased with the book; any flaws were overshadowed with the ease of playability, and as a fan of both Firefly and Serenity, I certainly think Mr. Chambers did a fine job translating the 'Verse into RPG form.
Dragons from Player Albums
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Deity of Layonara Each month, we would like to spotlight one of the Deities, be they Diabolical or Divine, from the pantheon of the Layonara mythos. If this whets your appetite as we hope it will, be on the lookout for the Layonara Handbook, soon to be released, that will have the information on ALL of the deities that will be discussed here, as well as any and all the information you are clamoring for about the ins, outs, how-tos and why-fors of the world! Each Deity may also be found in the Layonara Campaign Handbook that is being constantly updated by Edwin van de Ketterij (EdTheKet) and the Project Team.
Pyrtechon by Jill Price (Honora) & Anthony Beaulieu
Aliases: The Destroyer, The Raging One Race: Dragon Alignment: CE Worshippers:
flames. Glory in destruction. Do not cease until all life is extinguished. Clergy Attire
Worshippers of Pyrtechon are primarily human with a few elves or dwarves. Pyrtechon also has a significant following among the mon-
Clerics of Pyrtechon show no particular favor toward one weapon type, seeing all as tools to achieve the ends of their dark god. Weapons
strous races.
are made to kill and are all considered to be worthy of use. Indeed, many Clerics of Pyrtechon are skilled in the use of a range of weapons, far beyond the followers of other deities. Weapons are often enchanted with fire to emulate Pyrtechon's breath.
Cleric Alignments: CE,
CN, NE Domains: Fire,
Strength, War, Destruction, Evil Governs: Destruction, Chaos Dogma
Consign Layonara and all of its attendant races to oblivion. Do not preserve; preservation is not the way of Pyrtechon. Only in the purity of can absolute destruction the world be cleansed.
Clerics are normally heavily armored for better protection in combat, which they often see. Flame-red platehighly mail and splint mail are favored as both are considered representative of the scaled hide of Pyrtechon.
Image of Pyrtechon created by Phaere.
The fires of The Destroyer will purge this place. Life plays no part beyond its brief dance in the
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Deity: Pyrtechon - Continued Clerics often wear a necklace of basalt (always chipped from the statue of Pyrtechon held in the central worship hall) carved into the representation of a talon wreathed in flames of gem dust. The more powerful the cleric, the more valuable the gem dust of the wreath; with ruby considered to be at the pinnacle. Beyond ornamental purposes, these charms are used by Pyrtechonites to evaluate each other's abilities; with challenges not uncommon for those considered to be exaggerating their powers. Hierarchy
In a long, narrow room, a wall of arched windows let in a flood of late afternoon sunlight. Sixteen bright-eyed, young men and women wearing talberds depicting a compass sit at wooden desks, chatting softly and passing notes. An elderly man, wrinkled and thin but not the least bit stooped, walks in and sits in the simple stone chair facing the desks. He clears his throat several times with effort: the result of a lifetime of pipe smoking. His gnarled, spotted hands caress a bound leather book that appears to be newly made; the brown stained leather is barely scratched and there is only a token crease in the binding. The youths grow quiet, and he speaks.
If you were to see this dragon deity in his chosen form, it is written... “Pyrtechon would appear a monstrous crimson dragon with tremendous wings and great black horns.”
"Eons ago...dragons walked, fought, and worshipped on our World of Layonara. They followed gods as the races they created someday would; paying tribute and creating temples to venerate them. This magnificent race of creatures was old before they sailed wing and claw into our air...and so too were their gods. Some today still worship the mighty dragon god Rofirein (he pauses here to smile at them) and some…some, follow the other dragon god to stay and watch our sphere in the stars. (He pauses here, right
forefinger absently tapping the book. Some of the adolescents shift uneasily.) He is called Pyrtechon, and he is death. If you were to see this dragon deity in his chosen form, it is written (he opens the book to a page marked with a cloth strip) Pyrtechon would appear a monstrous crimson dragon with tremendous wings and great black horns. You might also see him as a huge half-dragon, half-human, with a cloak of flames, but this is supposition based on a madman's testimony. (He closes the book.) He, more than any other, is our enemy. Can anyone tell me why Pyrtechon did not leave when most of the dragons fled Layonara and their gods with them?” A brown-haired girl raises her hand shyly, eyes fixed on her teacher. “Yes, Milanda?” She speaks hesitantly but clearly. "Because… because he didn't want good to win and he knew the Lord Protector was staying to watch our world." The man gives her a closed-mouth smile but his eyes are warm. “True. In every record, true. But. But…there is another theory, and this is what you will learn today. (The youths lean forward as his voice lowers to just above a whisper.) It has been proposed…that The Destroyer, The Raging One, stayed to watch Bloodstone Sinthair destroy the world. That he, the dragon of death and terror and hatred, was the driving force behind Bloodstone's change…that he was the whisper in Bloodstone's ear that drove a general of great ability into a maniac bent on destroying what he could not control. (He pauses again, and some of the listeners sit back, hands to chin or brows furrowed as they digest his words. He speaks now in normal tones.) True or not? We don't know for sure. But if it is true…then he could do it again and again. Gods do not know time and have patience and memories we mortals lack; these are dark times for our world; fertile ground for desperation and evil to grow. Even now there could be another Bloodstone, somewhere, fighting for a cause that is being twisted and turned to evil in their minds. Now. Questions?” A sea of arms shoot into the air, hands extended heavenward....
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Deity: Pyrtechon - Continued There is no structured "Church" of Pyrtechon; The Raging One's desires and designs are far too chaotic for that kind of organization. However, small cells of followers, usually lead by a charismatic and powerful individual, work fairly well...until they don't. Given the extreme nature of followers of Pyrtechon, power is seized, not worked toward, and held until it cannot be held anymore. This leads to a very short and very skinny clergy tree. On top is the Blood Lord, the High Priest of the Crimson Cathedral; he or she who has the power to command the entirety of what exists of Church structure. Beyond that, are the leaders of the strongest groups that exist in Pyrtechon's name, and populating the bottom are the small but steady trickle that willingly follow them. Clerics of Pyrtechon are a motivated lot that cling to their numbers to aid in their goal. The clergy's desire for the destruction of all life unifies them with a common purpose; however, though most of the faithful look upon their brethren with a kindred mindset, each still maintains that in the end even allies must die. Followers of Pyrtechon tend to be solitary individuals in the public world and they make great efforts to hide their faith from the rest of the community. Elections and Organizations
The Blood Lord; High Priest of the Crimson Cathedral The strongest. The meanest. The most powerful. And that's it. There is no additional qualifier other than approval from Pyrtechon himself. Whomever can hold the power of the Church may do so only as long as they can fight off their competitors. A Blood Lord takes power and changes Church structure to suit themselves; all the while keeping a watch for intrigue and backstabbing until finally their vigilance fails for even a second and a new Blood Lord climbs to the top of the heap over their bleeding corpse. The longest a Blood Lord reigned was twelve years in the case of Omuh Kensentay some three hundred years ago; this was also a low point in Pyrtechon membership. The Day of Lords in
1317 set a record for shortest time in power with six Blood Lords in a row between sunrise and sunset. It is not uncommon for a new Blood Lord to be replaced within a week. The Blood Lord is also Pyrtechon's most powerful cleric. All things related to the Cathedral are their responsibility. Making notes on every individual to take a piece of the statue, making sure that damage to the Cathedral is repaired and the proper ritual suicide/sacrifice done afterwards, and overseeing the rites--all fall under their domain. The current Blood Lord, Savilk Flamehand, has held onto power for three years thus far. Savilk Flamehand is a human cleric. He is mid-
dle-aged and seems mild-mannered and almost meek when met outside the Crimson Cathedral. Inside, he's a focus of calm and quiet evil in a shrieking charnel house of blood and pain. It is his measured ways combined with his clever use of his trustworthy, quiet appearance that has kept him in power for so long as Blood Lords go since he is easy to underestimate by the ambitious and has not yet shown the true extent of his power. He does only as much as is needed to remove a problem--keeping his cards tight to his chest. According to Rofirein records, Savilk is known to have been born in Krandor. His parents died presumably natural deaths some years ago, and he was an only child. He spent eight years as a clerk in Spellguard then disappeared from the public eye. He resurfaced a decade and a half later as a clerk to the previous Blood Lord Barna Gravehand and seized power the year after that. He has put his soft, brown eyes; gentle, tenor voice; and tonsured head to good use in bringing young, tender sacrifices to The Destroyer's alter.
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Deity: Pyrtechon - Continued Sects
As noted, most sects devoted to Pyrtechon exist as small cells, doing what damage they can and retreating, or as individuals worshipping secretly. A few groups make a bolder mark howev er. The Daughters of Rage The Daughters of Rage are a hushed secret around Roldem and the coast of Alindor. Striking at remote villages, they focus on destruction rather than death; the exception being men. While their activities would seem to be destined to attract law enforcement, the truth is much less black and white. Most of the members are woman--almost all of whom have suffered humiliation or emotional and physical abuse at the hands of family and society. The Daughters have slowly built under the leadership of Betsy Inglewood, and while there are a few men in the group, the predominant gender makeup coupled with a strong feeling of guilt in the communities seems to be preventing a full-scale extermination of this Pyrtechon sect, at least for now. Their numbers are unknown but estimated at about 50.
They are selectively active on Dregar destroying everything in their path. Led by the force of Ramas' zealotry, his followers will stop at nothing until all life is ended. Ramas himself has stated that he wishes to be the last thing on Layonara that Pyrtechon feeds upon before the end of the world. The Reapers share a confidence that is fed by their belief that Ramas has the power to challenge the Blood Lord. Reapers are expected to destroy everything that is not essential to their immediate needs. Living conditions are expectedly primitive as a result; the bulk of the estimated 30 or so followers are considered to have mental problems based on this and other requirements of the sect. It is known that Ramas castrated himself with his scythe to ensure that if he did any raping before the pillaging and burning, and by some miracle the girl or woman survived, no life would ensue. He also requires all members of the Reapers to do the same. Anyone that gets as far as induction and then refuses to complete the ritual with castration is immediately turned into a sacrifice to Pyrtechon. There are no women in the Reapers.
Betsy Inglewood is a spinster in her 40's.
Rejected most of her life, her rage built slowly as she was passed over by prettier sisters, cousins, friends, and classmates for just about everything. After 31 years of rejection, she was approached by a follower of Pyrtechon and, for the first time, saw a place for her anger. In true Church form, she slew the one who introduced her and took over his secreted temple space. Since then, she has slowly built a following of mainly spurned, angry, or insane women. A great deal of these women have no idea what they are really signing up for; so, she enjoys occasionally letting a "weak" one get caught to absorb the blame for the Daughters' massacres. She is squat and plump with a flat face and a square jaw, bristly hair, and bulging eyes that gleam with hatred. The Reapers This fanatical group is led by a crazed priest of Pyrtechon named Ramas Mourgrym. The Reapers seek to please The Raging One by leaving nothing but smoking ruins behind them.
Ramas claims to have dealings with the red dragon, Fisterion, and maintains that the great wyrm would aid The Reapers were it ever necessary. But whether this is a fact or deranged ravings has yet to be seen. Ramas Mourgrym is a very tall human, always
clad in red scale mail layered with black robes. His outfit sports a deep hood that completely hides his face. His actual face has not been seen by anyone outside the sect as yet. His mental state is speculated to be twelve bricks short of a wall--even among his flock he's considered crazy. However, he took the path of a weapons master in the scythe before pledging his soul to Pyrtechon and has since gained great clerical powers. It's rumored that he will eventually make a play to become the next Blood Lord and put a scorched-earth policy into effect for the continent. Ramas is also known for the vicious scythe that he bears. The weapon is the preferred weapon
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Deity: Pyrtechon - Continued and a symbol of death among the Reapers, and Ramas' scythe has achieved near artifact status with his followers. Aside from the details above, nothing else is known about Ramas or his past.
young giant now to any other meat. How he came under Ignist's sway is again unknown; but with Ignist's council, Mag'ruk leads Sunset's Dawn at this time.
Sunset's Dawn Across Belinara, small, violent clans and individuals have been contacted by a half-giant named Mag'ruk. Charismatic for giant kin, Mag'ruk has built a rag-tag smattering of angry giants into a clan of respectable size, calling them Sunset's Dawn in anticipation of Pyrtechon's plans for Layonara. The clan follows Mag'ruk fanatically as he has dangled in front of them visions of the world empty of other races except for giants, cleansed of the taint of elves and humans and dwarves and the like. The clan has few rules: might is right, take what you will, and leave nothing behind that can be used to rebuild or re-grow. This includes bodies. Sunset's Dawn are cannibals.
He is tall for a half-giant, over ten feet, but leanly built. He has a particular odor that has only gotten worse as he shifted his diet more and more to his own kind. He seems very intelligent for a half-giant and commands respect from his clan with his mastery of unarmed fighting and lightning-fast movements.
What the clan does not know is that Mag'ruk takes his orders from another. On Mag'ruk's person at all times, is a flat, black stone roughly ten inches in diameter that allows him to communicate, whenever needed, with Son of Earth Ignist Caveborn of Rikart. Ignist is financing and leading the clan secretly from his position as Son of Earth in the Kerekk of Grannoch. The clan has been spotted in and near the Forest of Fog on Dregar. For what purpose, is not known. Mag'ruk is a half-giant of unknown srcin. He
was first spotted as a young adult, scavenging to survive. Rejected by human society for his horrible smell and frightening appearance. He turned to brute force against homesteads and small clans of any race around Belinara to get what he needed to survive. He became adept at unarmed fighting, using his unusual agility and speed to tip a fight in his favor. After a very long winter of near starvation, he found a clan of giants dead from a battle with a rival clan, and tried cannibalism to fill his screamingly empty stomach. He liked the taste and is said to prefer
Ignist Caveborn of Rikart presents himself as a
warm and friendly follower of Grannoch. He tends to the sick and speaks endlessly of "Grannoch's" plans for her people. What is not known, except to a select few, is that Ignist actually worships Pyrtechon. He sends his orders through Mag'ruk and has been using Sunset's Dawn to aid other governments in exchange for large sums of gold and other payment.
“...a new threat has appeared; a solitary threat, siding into vulnerable and small towns....” villages
Miakosha Takashi Recently around Mistone and coastal areas on Alindor, a new threat has appeared; a solitary threat, sidling into vulnerable villages and small towns and sneaking out again leaving only bloated, grey-green bodies behind. She seems to have rogue training or powerful illusionist training as she has been undetected and only recognized by one individual. Her agenda is yet unknown, but a good deal is known of this woman's past, and certainly of why she is capable of the acts she commits. Miakosha Takashi is from a peasant family on
Corsain. Information gathered by the Church of Rofirein has this to say about her. Her father had tiefling blood but was a hard-working and basically decent man. Her mother was, by all
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Deity: Pyrtechon - Continued accounts, a kind and loving woman. Miakosha had a younger sister as well. But her close family and tight-knit community in Taim could not overcome what Miakosha is. As a baby, she bit her mother's nipple until it bled then laughed as she suckled it. As a toddler, she deliberately broke every rule without concern. She tortured animals as a girl; and by the time she was an adolescent, her parent's marriage had broken apart from the strain of caring for her and her sister running away. When three small children went missing in the village and she was the last person seen with them, she was driven from the island. The years she spent away are unaccountable; but when she surfaced again, she was leaving a very visible trail of corpses and magic-burned land in her wake. She has considerable power as a spellcaster; where or from whom she learned spellcasting is not known.
Firesteep Volcano known as the Crimson Cathedral.
Miakosha has a reputation as being without even a hint of a soul. It is said that she sacrificed both her children to Pyrtechon directly from her womb to increase her spellcasting power and enjoys bathing in the blood of lovers when she is done with them. She is petite, barely five feet tall, and slender. Her tiefling blood manifests in her ruddy red skin and two small, black horns in her forehead. Her natural appearance is said to be greatly pleasing to The Raging One but she masks it with strong illusion magic when she could be seen by others.
From Rofirein notes on Pyrtechon, one eyewitness account does exist of the Sanctuary, taken from a halfling who by some miracle survived his trip there. Found in a pile of bodies left near Silgar, Peldon Wheathresher was part of a group of farmers abducted for sacrifice from Easthome while on a trading trip.
“...the pinpoint of Pyrtechon worship is in the great structure in Firesteep Volcano known as the Crimson Cathedral.
Temples to Pyrtechon
Given the dogma of the Church, creation of standing edifices in veneration goes against the grain. However, it was acknowledged four centuries ago that some focal point of devotion needed to exist. As a result, the pinpoint of Pyrtechon worship is in the great structure in
Being the only official structure dedicated to The Raging One, the first impression one gets is that it's not as large as expected; but this only lasts until one gets inside--for the true size of the building is hidden in the basalt. Building the srcinal (since modified and expanded) Cathedral took seven years and 1,612 workers. A good portion of those workers expired from being worked to death. Those that did not die while building the Cathedral were sacrificed in the Sanctuary; and that has since become custom for Pyrtechonites. If anything lasting must be created, following the construction, the creator must sacrifice either the craftspersons responsible, or, if the item in question is not for his use, commit ritual suicide in atonement.
His account is classified due to the extreme nature of his ordeal; but from what is known, the inside of the Sanctuary is a dullish red-brown from the blood of previous sacrifices never cleaned and shards of bone puncture bare feet. The heat and smell of death are nearly unbearable; open flames are everywhe re. A single stone block is the only alter and is surrounded by a moat of fire. The witness noted roughly half a dozen bodies, some charred, which were his travel mates. Further information regarding his description is restricted to Church officials. His survival was apparently due to a medical condition he has where his heart beats very slowly when stressed, and he must have been assumed dead at some point during his torture. Mr. Wheathresher was healed at a local temple and returned home after his discovery and interview; but, later, tragically committed suicide.
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Deity: Pyrtechon - Continued Prayers
Prayers vary widely by race of worshipper. But in the Crimson Cathedral, there is only one prayer entitled "Existence's End." "Pyrtechon, I walk in your wake. And as my heart yearns to please you, I seek to quench your thirst. Let all life die. Let the world end. Send them to oblivion on the edge of my weapon and bask in the revelry of death that I bring you. Drink the blood I let, feast on the flesh I cleave. And when I have ended the world, choked the breath from the last being; then drink and feast on me." Holy Days
30 Junar, 30 Jular, and 30 Augra are considered holy days for Pyrtechon. These represent the beginning, middle, and end of summer--both the hottest times of the year and the longest days in which to commit acts of wanton destruction. These are not adhered to strictly, but merely a guideline for when tribute is expected and sacrifices should be made. There are no holy days in winter, as most folks are bundled up inside and therefore harder to kidnap. Plus, the rain and snow makes sustained combustion of buildings difficult. Constellation
Pyrtechon's constellation, The Eternal Flame, consists of nine stars making up the rough shape of a small flame. All the stars of this constellation carry a light red hue and glow brightest at dusk when most clerics of Pyrtechon prefer to pray. Many of the prayers directed towards this constellation come in the form of a cleric of high rank tracing the outline of the constellation in the dirt with a sword of flame. However, being as secretive as many of the followers of Pyrtechon are, little is known about just why they do that. Reliquary of Pyrtechon
The view of destruction that the faithful of Pyrtechon have, makes keeping artifacts and
holy books difficult since they would seek to destroy them. However, there are two relics that Pyrtechonites holds sway to. First, the massive basalt stature of Pyrtechon located in the Crimson Cathedral is seen as holy, regardless of how many amulets the faithful chisel from it--it still appears undamaged. This, combined with the unearthly, life-like quality to the ruby eyes, makes some believe that Pyrtechon himself is linked to the sculpture. Also, within the fiery miasma of the Crimson Cathedral, at the very end of the Halls of Chaos, rests a burning brazier within which the Living Flame crackles and spits. It is to this Flame, said to be linked directly to the burning lair of Pyrtechon, that sacrifices are often made in the name of chaos and 'He who would destroy all.' None may approach the Living Flame except the Blood Lord and even then, should they do so without proper tribute, the Flame will lash out and consume them. At certain times, the Blood Lord is able to draw a ‘liquid fire’ from the Living Flame. This liquid fire is used to bind people to the order. The person who drinks the liquid is subject to a powerful geas as commanded by the High Priest. Should they fail to accomplish their mission, the liquid fire they have consumed rises up slowly, burning the victim from within until the fire erupts from every pore of their body and consumes them. Relationships with Other Races and Churches
While allied to three other gods of chaos and death, it is only with Corath that the Church will have extended dealings as it suits them. Verified from a now-deceased Corathite, is the knowledge of an alliance--a small piece of burning flame was delivered to a Corathite temple on Mistone to reflect it. It is said that should either side break the alliance then the flame will instantly die within the Corathite temple and the High Priest in the Pyrtechonite temple will also be aware that the alliance has been broken.
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Deity: Pyrtechon - Continued Pyrtechon and Fisterion
It is widely believed that Pyrtechon is somehow linked to the red dragon, Fisterion. This ancient red dragon makes its home in Firesteep, the isle where Pyrtechon centers his faith. Also, the sheer power of Fisterion leads to the conclusion that he is not an ordinary dragon. Some believe that Fisterion is in fact Pytechon's son or his very first spawn. Others believe that Fisterion is Pyrtechon bound in a mortal body or that Fisterion is merely Pyrtechon's earthly avatar. Regardless of the rumors, the reality is that if a connection between the two does exist,
they create a fearsome duo that threatens all. Allies and Enemies
Allied: Corath, Baraeon Ca'Duz , Grand Friendly: Shadon, Branderback, Mist, Vierdri'ira Neutral: Aragen Unfriendly: Ilsare,Vorax, Goran,Dorand, Shindaleria, Sulterio Enemy: Rofirein, Aeridin, Deliar, Toran, Lucinda, Katia, Az'atta, Kithairien, Beryl, Xeen, Folian S'pae, Prunilla, Grannoch
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Notes of a Bard: Ozymandias by Jason Williams (Ozymandias) Across the lands of Layonara is one name that one can be assured of hearing often. Ozymandias is often sought for his aid, his wisdom, and his sense of humor. He has taken upon himself the daunting task of chronicling the events that shape the world, watching and listening, taking a hand when he feels that balance is usurped. What follows are his words. An account of one such world-changing event--one that will forever affect the lives of all the denizens of the World of Layonara.
Rain spattered upon the cobbles of Arabel as a small group of cowled individuals gathered near the docks. There they beheld a sight that was strange even by Arabel's standards; a dwarven ship bearing the flag of the Ulgrids approached the docks. Once it had landed, they gathered near shielding themselves as best they could from the oppressive downpour. The dwarves set forth from their ship carrying precious heavy cargo: a great dragon skull with glowing emeralds and rubies pressed within the sockets of eyes and nostrils. There the group was informed that through great expense and effort, Lord Rainstorff had fashioned the one thing capable of destroying the Bloodwell, Bloodstone's greatest and most wicked of artifacts. From it poured six demons every minute, which then began their fateful march upon both Pranzis and the Great Oak. The duty of the group was simple, yet suicidal-to attack and capture the Bloodwell, then hold it while half of the party attacked Blood. Led by Kobal Bluntaxe, the Steward of the Crescent Moon, the group set forth. They found that Bloodstone had set forth guards to impede their travel--making their progress slow and bloody. However, they persevered until they came unto the Demon Tower. Long had it stood as the gateway into the impassable realms of Blood, and now it functioned as his greatest of weapons. For atop the glowing spire, lights of red, orange, and yellow flickered with the unrivaled power of the Bloodwell. The party entered, aware and ready for the start of their true adventure.
Bitter was the dawn that rose as the party first entered the tower where Demons and the last vanguard of Devils stood before them to enter the fray. Each room was filled with opposition; traps of spikes and fire were scattered throughout the halls. Each time the group took a moment to rest, it seemed as though Blood's mocking laughter filled their heads; nightmares foreboding his ultimate victory. Yet they did not turn back and flee, instead they pressed forward to do battle against those guarding the path to the well. At last they reached the highest point of the tower to see the glow of the Bloodwell itself, cruelly guarded by Fiends of Shadow and Flame. As they entered the top floor, the glare from the Bloodwell was blazing brightly, nearly blinding them. With their senses feeling the magic heavy in the air, they proceeded. The battle for the Well was short and chaotic as from all sides the fiends came to attack unprotected flanks and frail casters. They found the protector of the Well, born of Shadow and Flame, to be an army unto himself. Every strike against him seemed to be healed instantly as he unleashed fell magic of rejuvenation. Once he had fallen, however, the party realized that their journey had only just begun. For through the Well, they saw the never-ending horrors of the Abyss and an army, millions strong, marching to enter the gate of the Well. Two groups were formed from that of one: the first to hold the Well and prevent the infernal beasts from recapturing it, and the second tasked with the singular suicidal assignment of
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Ozymandias - Continued slaying Sinthar Bloodstone himself in his throne at the Masterpool. For indeed, as long as Blood lived and his pool remained, the Bloodwell would remain invincible, feeding off the power of the remaining pools to protect itself from any disaster. When the group sent to slay Blood departed from the Tower of Demons, they wished well their comrades fighting the tide. As they came before the fortress of Blood, they found a ghastly sight awaiting them, striking fear into their very bones. From the sky, a cascade fell onto parched soil-not of any natural rain, but one of blood. The Fortress of Blood was aptly named, it seemed, with a moat of burning fire and a host of fiends standing ready for a last desperate attack. Though every step of the path was slick with blood, the party pressed onward shadowed by the looming tower and the screams within. As the great gates opened and a wailing choir of pleas for mercy met their ears, they each took a deep breath to prepare themselves before pressing upwards. Flight upon flight of stairs they climbed upwards, the power of the Masterpool felt with each passing step. Those demons that had first sworn fealty to Bloodstone in ages past, guarded his dark tower and were determined to not let a single person pass. As they ascended into the Throne of Blood, a dark wind swept around them with the force and fury of the hells. Accompanying the dread wind, were screams of suffering that were amplified ever further as they battled on--growing deaf to all but the sounds of the infernal tower. But as they pressed upwards, they came to a place where there was no sound at all; where silence itself seemed a cacophony. To scream was to be a whisper there. A sickly, green light lit each step taken. The bones of the dead stood to enter the battle as protectors of the Pools they had drawn near. Yet the trials continued further as they pro-
gressed. After passing the place of silence, they came to the next floor, just below the top level of Blood's twisted fortress. His gaze looked upon them as they stood before two great statues: appearing of dragons gold and silver. To their horror, they realized that these dragons had once been alive, perhaps ones that had once opposed him and instead were now frozen: petrified there for Blood's amusement. They passed the statues uneasily and progressed ever further before coming to a passageway whose end glowered in red and yellows.
“From all sides, the heroes of Layonara swarmed Bloodstone; blade, magic, bow and hammer alike seeking to keep his attention from one in the shadows.”
As they entered the chamber of the Masterpool, Blood's words met their ears. Dark and menacingly calm they echoed throughout the tower: "Now you all die." Undeterred by his cold threats, they met Bloodstone's personal guard. Fiends of ancient times wearing armor etched in fire raged in battle atop the tower. As the last fiend fell, darkness gathered, pouring from each stone and lit as though alive by the infernal radiance of the Masterpool. There, before the pool, stood Bloodstone, garbed in robes and holding a scythe. He looked to the group surrounding him and sneered, lifting his hands to scatter the party with four great blasts of fire as he prepared to do battle with his most hated of nuisances. From all sides, the heroes of Layonara swarmed Bloodstone; blade, magic, bow and hammer alike seeking to keep his attention from one in the shadows. The group pressed upon Blood, waiting for the one weapon able to maim him to have a chance to strike: The Blade of Shadows, forged by Dorand's chosen and granted power through an ancient soul and the silver vein. A halfling unassuming to any eye darted forward, known best as The Sneak. Her blade struck
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Bard Ozymandias - Continued true, burying itself into the backbone of Blood, and almost melted; it twisted and crumpled as all its magic destroyed even its mithril form. Yet even over the sound of the blade's transmutation, was a howl of pain that shook the tower, as Bloodstone first felt his inevitable defeat. Overwhelmed by spell and sword, Bloodstone felt his life drifting away into oblivion, the voices of those he had slain so long ago screaming for revenge in his ears. He twisted and fell, a great explosion flying forth as with his last dying breath he struck out, slaying two of his most hated tormenters. As the dust settled, the power of the pool seemed weakened if even slightly. Realizing that it was then or never, they cast the vial into the Masterpool. All around, the ground shook and the walls began to crumble. The tower itself was sinking into the ground slowly. Running as swiftly as they could, the walls shook--crumbling with the death throes of the Masterpool.
into the sky with dread certainty. A dark cloud served as Bloodstone's grave, and it circled the world as they watched. Bloodstone's death marked the end of the third age of Layonara, bringing about a Dark Age of starvation and chaos. The shroud of ash surrounded the globe and blotted out the sun. Death would visit crops, people, and animals before the skies would clear. Many might question if the actions taken were the right ones, but whether wrong or right, so ended one chapter of Layonara for another to begin.
Pictures from Ozymandias’ Travels
The ground beneath their feet shook, dust rising from it, and just as the party reached the great gates of the fortress of Blood, an enormous explosion engulfed them. The earth, the land, and the very air were sucked dry as great cracks appeared on the Demon Tower for but an instant before it was consumed in the blast. Just as their last gasping breath came to them, they felt shadows surround them, pulling them into a cold void of darkness. Aid had come from a most unexpected source holding them in a chilling embrace. The Veil had called upon the most ancient and hated enemies of Bloodstone: the Lumbral. From the safety of the shadows the reunited halves of the party watched in awe and horror as the mountain upon which they had stood moments before, completely disintegrated in the energy of the Bloodwell's death. A great black chasm extended outwards to form a valley where mountains used to loom. From utter chaos the chasm grew to four miles in length, nearly two miles wide and a half-mile in depth. As the shadows receded, the party looked up
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D&D Adventures: An Interview with Al Sousa by Dan Scott (Leanthar) Our Editor in Chief interviewed Al Sousa, creater/owner of the popular role-player’s website D&D Adventures, and took down some of Al’s wisdom for posterity. TELL US ABOUT YOURSELF.
I was born in Brazil in 1967. My parents moved to the USA when I was young, but I am more gringo than anything else. I started playing D&D around the age of 15 and loved it. I was fortunate to have three very good DM’s that focused on srcinality and content more than anything else. I work for myself running a game and entertainment website company, which owns 12 websites. Unfortunately, I do not have as much time as I would like to game anymore with a wife and a baby on the way. I really enjoy games and the mental challenge they bring.
manner from adventures to spells. Each resource is designed so that DM’s can expand the story to fit their campaign. I also accept material submitted by others and review it for srcinality--turning down over 80% of material submitted. I try to upload only material that is srcinal, useful, or interesting. Of course, I have other resources to assist DM’s and players in making the game easier to manage such as character sheets, PC utilities, and comprehensive sheets of data. I also place up articles for DM’s and players alike. The site has over 300 pages of material with thousands of links.
WHY DID YOU START D&D ADVENTURES IN THE FIRST PLACE?
As a test hobby site for when I was learning website design on my own. I figured I would do the site on something I really loved to motivate me. I always meant the site to be an adventure resource for D&D’ers--good adventures are hard to come by.
Al Sousa (Picture from www.dndadventure.com)
HOW LONG HAS THE SITE BEEN UP?
Since July 2001. There were many D&D sites back then but some of the larger ones died out. I somehow ended up listed at the top of search engines and didn't even realize it. WHAT TYPES OF RESOURCES ARE AVAILABLE?
My emphasis for the site is on srcinal story and background not power and amazing character. What makes a good D&D game is the story that unfolds within your head in the realms of imagination. I create everything for the site in this
IS RUNNING THE SITE DIFFICULT?
Running the site, no; coming up with good content, yes. I am fortunate that at this point the site pays for itself through various advertisers. I also have several administrators that run the site's forum for me. They are good people, and I really appreciate the time they devote. WHY DID YOU CREATE A FORUM?
It was a suggestion of a friend. I never figured it
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Al Sousa - Continued would amount to much but it attracted gamers who love D&D as much as I do. HOW MANY FORUM MEMBERS ARE THERE?
Over 3000 registered members; however, every year I purge ones that are not active over a period of a year. It is quite active with over 20 games running at once. ARE YOU SURPRISED AT HOW THE FORUM HAS DEVELOPED OVER THE YEARS?
Yes, I am. The forum also created the opportunity to get feedback on material within the site. It is also a gathering place for questions and discussions on more than D&D. The forum has really grown the site.
things you can do besides adventure. You can learn a skill like bow making or gain experience in potion making or scroll making. There is never a time I said to myself, "Well, I have nothing else to do..." like some of the pay-for-online worlds. Everything in the world is tough, nothing is easy. That's what I love about it. When you gain a level, it is a real accomplishment. If you gain a magic item, it took a major effort to do so. The players in the world role play their characters well. You feel like you are in a fantasy realm. The owners placed a lot of hard work into the game at just the right level that keeps you coming back for more. Also, I enjoy the fact they have real DM’s for players and scheduled events. Layonara is simply the best NwN world out there and it's free. How can you beat that?
WHAT IS THIS FEMALE GAMER OF THE MONTH?
Well, this was an idea a friend of mine came up with. How often do you see a female gamer? So, I figured I would ask for submissions, and I was amazed at the response. I think it adds a little something extra to the site that no one has. WHY DO YOU SUPPORT LAYONARA WHEN THERE ARE SO MANY NWN WORLDS OUT THERE?
Layonara is a well-built world emphasizing on role playing not the accumulation of power. There is an srcinal story line that goes with the game. The quests are unique and always challenging. The first few levels are challenging to get through, but beyond that, it becomes much more difficult, which creates a sense of accomplishment. You have to earn those higher levels and it's not by power gaming. There are a lot of details that I do not see on other NwN worlds: the adventures are hard and items difficult to come by. Adventures take coordination, timing, tactics, and patience. There is no "lets run through this real quick for XP" feeling I got from other online RPG’s. There are also many other
Visit this great site at: http://www.dndadventure.com
According to a post Sousa made September 15, 2006, at www.enworld.org, www.dndadventures.com
gets 2000-3000 visits a day. "It is ranked very well in Google (1st pages) for many D&D key phrases." Sousa has been playing for over 25 years. One major project he worked on is posted at http://www.dndadventure.com/dnda_campaigns.html. Check it out.
Here you'll find some campaign ideas, materials to start a campaign, and a full campaign ready to go.
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False Truth: An Untold Story of Layonara n e by Andrew Thompson (Creighton) O a world filled with adventure and intrigue… t e r whereLayonara, p any day can be one of glorious victory or ignoble death. a Ch Even within its past, the world holds many legends, many tales, many grand epics of mighty warriors, horrible evils, and unselfish goodness. So now, my friends, let me tell you one such tale… a tale from many hundreds of years ago.
T'was to be a grand day in the city of Ronwyn.
The grandfather himself, however, did not seem so jovial.
Already, the trumpeters took their places on the raised platform next to the city gates, their last minute tunings sounding like a cacophony of bits of song; as if they were fragments of different melodies stolen from the air and put back in place there in the square. The men-at-arms of the city milled about in their polished best, standing tall and throwing back their shoulders with pride in the occasion. The throngs of adoring citizenry competed for their places on the streets, vying for a close spot by the cobblestone to catch a glimpse, or perhaps even shake the hand, of their hero. The city's flags hung furled at their places about the walls, ready to dance in the breeze caught in the great corridors formed by the mountains when the time was right. The overwhelming feeling in the air was one of celebration and, to some extent, awe. Greyson Havelrox, the grandson of Lord Havelrox, who was one of the most celebrated heroes of the Race Wars, was returning at the head of his army. From the news of the falcons, his foray to claim more followers of Thaal from lands southward was a resounding success.
Lord Grantham Havelrox, aged hero of the lands of Dregar, sat quietly in his ornate chair. Perched high between the battlements of his modest palace (generously donated by the Church of Thaal in honor of his courage), he indeed had the best seat in the house. Fully in front of the main gates and forty feet above the ground, the terrace upon which he sat would afford the greatest view of the festivities about to occur. And why should it be any other way? It was, after all, the grandson of this great hero who now was lionized by the people as their conquering beacon of hope; the one who would finally put down the squabbling masses still clinging to polytheism in the wake of the Wars. After his son had fallen not in glory but to an illness (long thought to have been brought about by filthy Elvish druids), it was feared that the name of Havelrox would pass into history with him. However, at an early age, Greyson showed great promise, excelling in his studies in the academy of war and the seminary of Thaal. From thence, he went on to become the youngest paladin ever ordained by the Order of the Clasped
Hands, the peacekeepers of Thaal. Grantham shifted in his seat, his face an emotionless mask as he stared across the square. Attendants quickly moved to his side, but he waved them away. The two handmaidens looked at each other sadly; for the last ten years, many believed that old age was finally taking its toll on the mighty warrior. He spoke little, and carried on only activities that mandated his presence, such as this one. Privately, he was known to do little else than sit and read, but it was rumored that the pages were never turned in the great, ancient bound tome that he stared into for hour after hour. The servants would shake their heads in sorrow at such rumors. Havelrox was a beloved man. Down below, the city's bells began to ring, and the trumpeters stopped their practice and took up their positions. The flags were unfurled, the noble colors of Ronwyn set now with the holy symbol of Thaal, freed to the wind that wound through the mountain passes. Lord Havelrox emitted a low grunt, but was it recognition, or...despair? The nearest attendant leaned over him, thinking
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False Truth - Continued perhaps he wished to stand, but again, he waved her off, and she resumed her position behind him with a sad smile, assuming that this was the best emotion he could muster for the joy that was surely upon him. The rest of the assembled citizens, however, began to see was that the time was near. Greyson approaching! The murmur of the crowd settled quickly to one of hushed reverence, all eyes turning to the large gates as the portcullis slowly began to rise. The guards now stood at erect attention, their swollen pride puffing their chests even more in this moment, as the conquering arm of the god they served returned, just days behind the news of his victories in the south. The tower guard lowered his pennant in a signal, and two teams of oxen began to open the iron-bound gates. Almost as one, the crowd leaned forward, all wanting to be the first to witness this joyous homecoming, as the musicians began playing the victory anthem of the Order of the Clasped Hands. Moments passed. Through the open gates the cloud of dust could be seen roiling up through the rocky pass that was the approach to Ronwyn. The ground began to tremble with the hoof beats of many horses, and the sounds of a force on the move began to ring in the ears of the throng.
file in behind him, their battle pennants fluttering with their motion. The music rang with a poignant tone of joy as the people began to push forward, shouting praise and adoration for Greyson. Children threw confetti as the procession moved slowly on, and when he neared the main
the crowd began to repeat it as a chant while Greyson and his soldiers pumped their fists into the air, the feast and celebration officially beginning.
intersection of his the visor square, Greyson lifted and looked toward the terrace of the palace that was his hereditary home with a smile of victory. Seeing his grandfather sitting there, the young man felt a surge of pride fill him, and he again raised his hand in salute. The crowd hushed immediately, and for a moment, all was silence, all watching the exchange between the generations of the revered clan. Nodding to his elder, Greyson took a deep breath.
elder suddenly away,Havelrox if it was ever reallyfaded there. She stepped back to her place, the faint hope she had held for his recovery from this state gone.
"Ronwyn!" he shouted with pride. "RONWYN!" the soldiers and crowd echoed, the sound reverberating over the walls and throughout the rocky spires. "Havelrox!" Greyson called out. "HAVELROX!" The masses again shouted to the skies. Lord Havelrox seemed to stir in his chair, the light of his esteem glinting in his eyes, and the handmaiden watched him closely; was that a smile on his lips?
Finally, with a triumphant smile visible beneath his helm,
Down in the square, the younger Havelrox again raised
Greyson Havelrox rode at a trot through the gates, and applause and accolades exploded through the square. The young knight raised his hand in gratitude, as his general and troops began to
his voice in tribute and victory for his lands and his god. "Thaal!" his voice resounded. "THAAL!" went up the cry, and
The handmaiden on the terrace watched as the smile she thought she had seen on the face of the
Had she stayed a moment longer, she would have been surprised to see a single tear trail down the lined cheek of the once again expressionless face. Scores of miles away, the windswept walls of Lands End prison glowered balefully into the cloudy evening over the rocky coast. The rays of the setting sun, falling wildly through gathering clouds, shone starkly on its salt-swept walls, which from a distance almost looked white in the afternoon rays of a sunny day. Many felt that those who sat imprisoned within these high and guarded walls did not deserve such an edifice. Those that the kingdom deemed the blackest of criminals usually found themselves here; executions had, since the Race Wars, been looked upon with some disdain. This disdain led the new government to place the penal system under the administration of the church; only the vilest and most unspeakable blasphemies now met with death. As a result of this, the walls of Land's End swelled with the most wretched of souls, living like animals under the lash of the guards who saw their assignments as either punishment or sadistic enjoyment. It
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False Truth - Continued could be said with truth that many of the inmates would prefer death to remaining alive in this hell. The master of this haven of despair was Archibald Bronna, known often by the name he earned in the Race Wars: DwarfCleaver. Lord Bronna, a massive
the condemned were sweat, waste, and blood. Man, dwarf, elf, and rodent vied equally for the gruel that served for sustenance, and the putrid pails of water that was their drink often carried a film of algae or carried worms in its bottom. The cells nestled close togeth-
one of what he believed to be justice; a crime that would not have been a crime in the eyes of Vorax, the god of battle…but Vorax had yielded sway to the one true god: Thaal.
brute a man, seeming almost a dwarf of himself grown to human proportions, seemed to relish his position as overseer of the prison. This was an oddity to many; generally, the feeling was that after his performance in the Wars, and his subsequent service to the Church, he deserved a much loftier position. It was a long standing and much debated topic of conversation at the taverns and gambling houses in Gothar, the nearest city to the point of rock that Land's End sat upon (some thirty miles to the west). It was often said (in hushed tones; it was known that the Inquisitors, the investigative
er, very tightly, descending concentric circles on many in floors. These stretched from the top of the structure (those convicted of "lesser" offenses) to several dozen feet beneath the earth (condemned or "special" prisoners). It was here, in the main atrium of the structure, in full view of most of the tiered circle of cells, and easily in earshot of them all (thanks to the echoes that the chamber produced) that Lord Bronna kept his "interrogation" apparatus. Indeed, in all the prison proper, it was the only well-lit area found in the whole of the place; he wanted all under his
He spat into the corridor, the thought of Thaal again entering his mind. He hadn't broken, he thought, a smile curling his lips. Their long hours of preaching (often accompanied with the most exquisite of pain, right there below in that contraption of torture) had not converted him; he held on to his beliefs, the beliefs of his tribe, with all of his being.
force of the Church, often milled about in disguise) that Bronna enjoyed his sadistic practices.
stewardship to see what came to those being questioned or punished.
A squall had risen up this eve, and rain and wind began to pound the walls with unyielding fury, as if Nature itself (some would say Katia, but the mention of that name would mean incarceration, re-education, and some believed, death) wished to wash this blemish of humanity from the face of Layonara. The dark dungeon, flickering torches teasing the inmates with glimpses into the shadows that dominated their world, knew
Eruk Nustall stood with his face pressed against the rough iron bars of his cell, gazing into the low light of the walkway. He chose not to let his eyes fall upon the scene beginning in the atrium across from him. He was not squeamish of blood, mind you; he wouldn't have been on the last tier of this forsaken pit if he were of a gentle sort. No indeed; with his bare hands, he had crushed the life from four assailants, one of whom had been an Inquisitor, who had accosted him for the
even in his cell, which was unusual; but even more unusual, the guards insisted, was his brute strength, and they insisted upon this further discomfort for their own safety. Amongst all the inmates here on the ground, he noted with pride that he alone stood proud at the bars, not content to grovel and lament hiding in the darkness of the small, dirty rooms. His eyes flickered around as they did every day, trying to penetrate the gloom to see if a new crop of others had been brought here, but more so to see if anyone, anyone else, had at least the glimmer of courage. In this
nothing of this storm; the stone walls held defiantly as they had for many years, sealing off those unfortunate enough to be here from even the hint of fresh air. Indeed, the only odors to greet
religious symbol he wore. This, to Eruk, was offense of the highest; in his tribe, to blacken the name of the Father was to turn your back on all you and your fathers believed. His crime was
Or so they wished him to believe.
Heretic then, was his label. And thus, his cell here on the ground floor. He wore harsh, biting irons
place of despair, he was always disappointed. Until today. From the left, where the stair-
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False Truth - Continued case from above opened onto the lowest walkway, three guards were bringing a new prisoner into the lowest tier. Eruk could see the man's face plainly as they brought him through the doorway, the torches there illuminating a look of both contempt and…something else. A kind of
Eruk a plan for escaping and returning with help to free all those here, whom the logic of the Wood Elf saw as unnatural at best. Eruk also saw the failure of this plan, just across from his cell, written forever in the spiraling pattern of blood that sprayed
this tomb for the living), Eruk again found himself, much against his will. He had learned not to struggle with the guards, however; that had gotten him one too many times on the machine, and even his sturdy frame and stout heart could take only so much of that. Begrudgingly he
cunning, if the man's eyes wereperhaps, taking inaseverything he saw, and the mind behind those eyes was already planning an escape. Eruk had seen that look before…his friend from long ago, Caliban, had found his way here before Eruk. When they were younger, he and Caliban had often spent time with Caliban's parents, raiding caravans for food. The end of the Wars had left the elves impoverished and starving; Eruk and his tribe did not see helping the Wood Elves (who despite tensions with "civilized" men, were never considered enemies by Eruk's tribe) as
forth from hiswithout friend as he died, horribly and mercy. He still recalled the guttural laughter of Bronna as he worked the levers and pedals of the machine that ripped first the flesh from Caliban's bones, then the soul from his body.
sat on thegently wooden pew, to hissee head swiveling around the same faces as always.… …until he turned to his left to find the face of the stranger he had seen led in days before. The man seemed to be smiling, but not smiling; it was as if his face were stern, hopeful, and smug, all at the same time.
criminal. Indeed, they saw it as survival for their longtime forestdwelling friends. The young elf was a wily and quick-witted one; he often was able to formulate quick, on the spot plans for taking only that which was needed, frequently without their ever being seen by those they pilfered. Other times, the brash and resourceful Caliban was able to simply talk the people out of some of their wares, using sympathy and clever dialogue. Eruk had admired his friend, and believed he would be roaming the forest telling tales of his youthful adventures for hundreds of years, so he was quite sur-
his bed and sat, staring at the same crack in the stone floor that he had for many moons, knowing that it was raining from the water that slowly gathered in it.
prised to find him here, at Land's End, when he arrived some months ago. As always, Caliban used his guile to try to get into the good graces of the guards, and, failing this, made known to
offered up by the clerics on duty would spark their souls to salvation.
He snorted in disgust as the guards brought the man past. Keep your planning up, smart one, he thought. Soon, t'will be your blood I see fanning the beams. Disgruntled and troubled yet again by his memories, Eruk walked to the rough mat that was
With those deemed heretics to the religion of Thaal, some concern for saving their souls still remained, even within Land's End. To facilitate this, those convicted of heresy "enjoyed" one hour per week out of their cells, but only to the chapel that served as a small temple of Thaal. These inmates were closely guarded and allowed only to speak softly to one another, hoping that the constant prayers
In this small yet ornate room (clearly the most lavish room in
Leaning over, the stranger whispered. "I noticed your ill temper at being brought here, brother," he said. His voice was calming, yet held the tint of command; as though he were used to people listening to him. "I am not your brother," Eruk answered. A true smirk crept across the man's features. "Are we not all brothers in Thaal?" Eruk turned sharply, his face beginning already to redden. "Hold your tongue," he hissed through clenched teeth, "or I will remove it!" "Such rage in a house of the one true god," the stranger mumbled, looking away. Eruk sighed heavily, resting his arms on the pew in front of him and his head on his arms. Who did this man think he was? Talking to him in such a fashion; indeed, perhaps his initial belief that this man was cunning was a mistake; perhaps he was simply crazy. Eruk allowed himself to glance to the side to see if the man
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False Truth - Continued remained at his side, and sure enough, he still sat, perhaps even closer. "Leave me be," Eruk said. "I wish only to find the path to goodness…is that not why you are here?" Eruk raised his head and answered only with a frown. The
stepped the onrushing brute, and with a simple gesture, tripped him. Eruk's head impacted with the pew, cracking the wood. "AAAAARRRRRRGGGGGHHHHH!" he screamed in anguish, turning with fire in his eyes and a speed denying his large size. He again lunged at the smaller man,
guards forced the stranger out first, he strained enough to get close to Eruk one last time. "What you know, I know. Now know this." He said, and Eruk felt a pat on his chest. He paid it no mind at the time. "To hells with you," he spat. With a bit of a struggle that
stranger was unimpressed. "Or I suppose a savage such as yourself still worships the sticks and the stones, eh?" With this statement, the man let out a low, condescending chuckle, and turned his eyes back to the pulpit. The large barbarian was outraged. Before he thought, he seized the man by the arm. "It would be best if you kept your mouth shut around me, berk," he growled. "I am a follower of the Father of Battle, and I will hear no more of your mockery!" With an over exaggerated manner, the man turned and locked eyes with the larger man. " "Ah," he began to speak, no
and the time, stranger dodged; but this Erukagain allowed for this, and caught him by the prison tunic. With a mighty tug, he heaved the man to him, grasping him by the throat and hefting him into the air. "By Vorax's law, I shall kill you for those words!" The man struggled, but not in a way that Eruk was used to. By now, the guards had intervened, fearing a death on their watch, in the temple, no less; but Eruk's mighty strength made it all but impossible for them to loosen his grip…although his grip…didn't feel right. "Vorax has no law for murder,
seemed, at least of the arrogant manon to the be apart bit overly done, the keepers took him from the room, his weekly privilege revoked. Eruk sighed, knowing it meant a trip back downstairs as well, but looking about, he knew in his heart he would be glad to be out of what he thought of as a blasphemous place.
longer whispering, "You seem much too large to worship the god of the dinks." Before he even thought about it, Eruk released the man's arm and backhanded him across the mouth. The stranger seemed to lift up off the pew and tumble backwards, but even enraged Eruk knew that he had not hit him that hard; indeed, the blow did not land as solidly as he thought it should have. The guards quickly moved in to contain the situation, but in typical fashion, appeared to be willing to let the two men fight it out rather than intervene. Rubbing his chin, the man
my friend," the man spoke too easily, though he should not be able to breathe. "But I do not suffer from such hindrances." With this said, Eruk felt a point pressed into the soft spot beneath his throat, and saw that the man had, from where he had no idea, produced a small, needlelike dagger and placed it there. He looked up into the eyes of the man, but was surprised to see no hate; only certainty. He set the man down and immediately the guards dragged the two apart, but he noticed that the dagger, or whatever it was, was gone. Of course, he would
their own meals.
climbed easily to his feet. "You follow Vorax, and that is the best you can do?" Eruk charged over the pew like a bull, but the man was suddenly not there; he had deftly side-
not mention it to their keepers; he might consider this man to be his enemy, but as such, he deserved the test of combat, not punished by the guards like a child who had let his crops wither. As the
vince you this is not a trick, but do I need to? If you are interested, we shall speak again in the so-called temple next week. Make it look like you are repenting, and wish to
Once the stranger was gone, it was his turn to be walked by the guards back to his small hole of a cell. After a few minutes, his daily meal was pushed carelessly through the bars, and then the guards settled themselves in for
Only then did he take out the scrap of folded parchment the man had slipped him there at the end of their confrontation, but for many hours he would ponder what it said--after he had eaten it, of course. My friend: I apologize whole-heartedly for what I have to do, but I have to know if you are with me or against me…if you are reading this, then I have decided you are with me. If you are with me, we shall be free of this place. I cannot con-
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False Truth - Continued apologize. Sleep as well as you can, and may whatever god is yours watch over you and give you strength.
Eruk sat with his brow furrowed, several of the words were unfamiliar to him, but he had been able to discern the overall
meaning. What to make of this? He
wasn't sure. But he would give it careful thought. He remembered the dagger that appeared at his throat, and just as quickly vanished without a trace.
One so clever just may be too clever, he thought. Or he may be one to listen to.
He finished his salty, tasteless paste of unidentifiable food and then lay down on his mat to think. To be continued….
More Layonara Pictures from Player Albums
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Open Gaming License and Notices [d20] Requires the use of the Dungeons & Dragons Player's Handbook, Third Edition, published by Wizards of the Coast, Inc. Layonara is a trademark owned by Daniel Scott. Layonara Studios is a registered trademark of Layonara
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Layonara World Map Cartographer: Peter Mitchell (Rasterick)
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