Uresia Grave of Heaven.pdf

by S. John Ross

Writing b Cartography b Design

Creativity, Unbound File Version 1.04 ! try brindle*s today and lose track of tomorrow !

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! brindl e*s for when being w asted is just niser !

! t h i s r u n e b o r d e r b r o u g h t t o y o u b y d o s r a b i d * s, w h e r e a l l y o u r a l k e m i k a l d r e a m s k a n ko m e t r u e f o r l e s s t h a n t h e p r i s e o f o u r i n s u r a n s e !


! sett l e for no thing l ess than the best * harkourt*s s w eet dipping m ustard made with real mapl e syrup !

Illustrated by Banu Adhimuka, Chun, Jason Embury, Fufu Frauenwahl, Niko Geyer, Denis Loubet, Jon McNally, T. Jordan Peacock, Noreen Rana and Thinh, with incidental images, doodles, and décor by the author.

Playtest, Blindtest, and useful commentary by Gwyn Adams, Kennon Ballou, Maxim Belankov, Jeb Boyt, Andrew Byers, Michael Cain, Maja Carter, Claire Cassidy, Chris Chandler, Josh “Kleftis” Clinger, John-Matthew DeFoggi, Tim Driscoll, Shelden Foisy, Roger French Jr., Kyle Greening, Stephen Guenther, Dave Insel, Veronica “I want Tanya and Vert” Janis, Dan “Hoplite Kobolds” Jasman, Candice Johnson, Scott Kane, Chris “Glittermancer” King, Sara King, Tim Kirk, Konstantin “Sir Guy” Kunschikov, Nick LaLone, Shawn Lockard, Jeremy McKean, John “The Forsaken (I’m Sorry)” McLaughlin, Anna “Rei HiNu” Nakaryakova, Ryan Northcott, Paul Reed, Cody & Allyson Reichenau, Paula Repko, Liz Rich, Sandra Ross, Yulia “Dark Usagi” Sapronova, Tom Schoene, Ekaterina “Tori” Shadrina, Benjamin M. Sharef, Evgeny Sobolev, Dan Suptic, Leif Sutter, Chad Underkoffler, Ron Wiltshire, Alexandra “Haruka” Zubkova, and the playtest forum at Pyramid Magazine.

Proofreading by Liz Rich, with proofing assistance by Vickey Beaver, Maxim Belankov, Jacob Davis, Paul May, Sandra Ross, and Marcelo Paschoalin.

Copyright ©2012 by S. John Ross, All Rights Reserved except where noted. Uresia: Grave of Heaven, All-Systems Library, Cumberland Games & Diversions, logos associated with each, and terms unique to this work are trademarks of S. John Ross. Licensed users of the PDF edition may create unlimited hardcopy for personal use.

With extra-big thanks and hugs for special support, morale-boosts, kicks in the pants and/or inspiration from Jerry Alexandratos, Cecilia Bonvillain, John Fiala, Adam Jury, Unity & Oneness Loves, Paul MacDonald, Paul McCann, Anthony Merlock, Tyler Rowe, Terri Wells, the management & staff of Dragon’s Lair Comics & Fantasy in Austin, Texas, the management of Tewksbury & Company in Denver, Colorado, the friendly gang on the Uresia Mailing List, the contributors to the Blue Lamp Road fan archives, and to Erato, without whom this book would not exist.

! try brindle*s today and lose track of tomorrow !

This All-Systems Library edition is a wholly revised and expanded Grave of Heaven, but Uresia remains indebted to the editorial efforts of three great Guardians of Order: David L. Pulver, Jeff Mackintosh and Mark C. MacKinnon.

I dedicate this edition to the memories of two lost friends: John Lawrence Mecum, a man of compassion and steel in unprecedented alloy, and Karl E. Boxely, who was simply unprecedented.

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Fragments of Falling Stars . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 5 The Survivors . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 6 Welcome Home . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 6 The Islands . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 7 Map: Adventurer’s Guide to Common Runes . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 7 Birah . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 8 What the Summaries Mean . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 8 Caravels . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 9 Boru . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 10 Three Dead Gods to Swear By . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 11 Celar . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 12 Plurt & Zumi . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 12 Dreed . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 14 What Banner Does She Fly? . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 14 Elu Islands . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 16 Reeling in the Years . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 16 Four Spirits Who Didn’t Mean To Kill You, But There You Are Dead . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 17 Helt and Lochria . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 18 Koval . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 20 Great Gravulus . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 20 Laöch . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 22 Orgalt . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 23 Iron Redemption Story Koval . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 24 Five Things Laöch and Orgalt Do Differently . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 25 Rinden . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 26 Emerald Armor . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 26 Tidy Maps, Savage Truth . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 27 Sindra . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 28 Where Does All the Time Go? . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 29 Temphis . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 30 Greentown . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 30 One Hunter of the Nameless . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 31 Volenwood (Anandriel) . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 32 Six Reasons the Gods May As Well Be Around Anyway . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 32 Bottled Divinity . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 33 Winnow . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 34 Cracks in the Ground . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 34 Yem . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 35 Languages Without a Country . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 36 The Frontiers of Magic . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 37 Map: Uresia . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 38 Travel Times . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 39 Rogan’s Heath . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 40 Life in Rogan’s Heath . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 40 Map: Rogan’s Heath . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 41 Rogan’s Heath Locations . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 41 Five Ways to Pass the Time . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 42


Rogan’s Heath Irregulars . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 43 Mossy Enigmas . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 44 Map: Shadow River . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 46 Shadow River . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 47 Shadow River at a Glance . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 47 “The Bells” . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 47 Plaza of God/Urleg’s Temple . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 47 Old Bridge Road . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 48 Sister Harmony’s Blessed Lunch . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 48 The Beacon District . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 48 The Shadow River Necropolis . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 48 Guilds . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 48 Vernia: The Flying Islands . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 49 Shadows over Shadow River . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 49 The Shadow River Arena . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 50 South Monument Street . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 50 The Shadow Club . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 50 Grail Park . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 50 The Citadel/The Market . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 50 The Citadel . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 50 Streets . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 50 Walls & Defenses . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 50 Lyssa’s Talismans . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 51 The Slave Pens . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 51 The Auction Blocks . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 51 Boggs’ Balloon Rides . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 51 The Gallows . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 51 Hot-Air Travel . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 51 East Corner . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 52 Alchemists’ Row . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 52 The Chainmail Bikini . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 52 Doru Road Rats . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 52 Dosrabid’s Unconventional Alchemy . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 52 The Helm and Dagger . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 52 Pale Dog Alley . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 52 Silver’s Warehouse . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 53 Skull’s Hatch . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 53 Hear the Cannons Roar . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 53 Logantown . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 54 Death’s Dais . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 54 Gram Obel, Bladesmith . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 54 Nectar’s Garden . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 54 The Hideout . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 54 Sir Hadel’s School of Knighthood . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 54 New Town . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 55 Leaf House . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 55 Gottle House . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 55 Winter Hall . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 55 Pork Hill . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 55

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Ardor’s Rope . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 56 Keddlegum’s . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 56 The Ga-Shu . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 56 Civilian Docks . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 56 The House of Micus . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 56 Voroch Meadhall . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 57 The Old City . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 57 Dredjer the Locksmith . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 57 The Old City Ghost . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 57 Flicker Street . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 57 The Temple of Kelt . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 58 Madame Ona’s School for Girls . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 58 Sergeant Banks & The Owl . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 58 West Gate District . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 59 Incense Park . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 59 Hunters’ Embassy . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 59 Sewers & Tunnels . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 59 Striking Metal . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 59 The Knife House . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 60 Knight’s Beacon . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 60 Medley Cathedral . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 60 The Candlestaff . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 60 Past the City Gates … . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 60 A Hole By Any Other Name … . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 61 Map: Grandma August (Middle Temphis) . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 61 Beneath and Beyond . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 62 The Deeps . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 62 The Ocean Realms . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 62 The Divide, The Gloom, and the Death of Magic . . . 63 The Troll Lands . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 63 Uncounted, Uncharted . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 63 The Lenthan Gates . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 64 Three Ruins Barely Plundered . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 64 Mummy Towns . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 65 The Drethan Pools . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 65 Frozen Ghosts . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 65 The Outer Sea . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 65 Other Realms, Other Realities . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 66 Timeline of Noted Events . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 67 Delvers & Daredevils . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 70 Character Races . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 70 Beastmen (the Hramath) . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 70 Beasts, Wise . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 71 Centaurs . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 71 Adolescence . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 71 Legends & Rumors: The Raansa . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 71 Dwarves (the Galt Hranach) . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 72 Elves . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 72 Demons Among Men . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 72 Humans . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 73 Mushroom Trolls (the Mourfa) . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 73 Playing Dead . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 73 Snowmen (Ice Spectres) . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 74 Slimes . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 74 A Different World, For Everyone . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 75 Just One Slime Secret (Shhh) … . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 76 Satyrs . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 77 Strange Dungeonfellows . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 77 Troll-Landers . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 78 Homeland . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 78 Uresia’s Size in Real-World Terms . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 78 Worldly Wise? . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 79


Magic and Magic-Wielders . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 79 Scary Stuff Wizards Know . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 79 Religion . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 79 The Magical Arts . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 80 Boru Sorcery . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 80 Magic Items, Magic Industry . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 80 Common Demonology . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 81 Duandralin Wild Magic . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 81 Rego Corunda Magic . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 81 Troll Shamanism . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 81 Yemite Necromancy . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 82 Folk Magic . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 82 Demons: Here To Stay? . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 82 Zodiac . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 83 Apothecary and Alchemy: The World’s Own Magic . . . . . . . 84 The Ton Vial . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 84 True Alchemical Realism . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 84 The Politics of Potions . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 84 Unique Talents and Realized Motifs . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 85 Emeralds . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 86 Emerald Burnout . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 86 Game-Value of Emeralds . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 86 Currency & Prices . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 87 Food . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 87 Drink and Vice . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 87 Clothing . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 87 Containers . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 88 Personal Adornment . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 88 Treasures of the Loom . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 88 Lighting . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 88 Assorted Gear . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 88 Notes on the Price Lists . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 88 Games & Diversions . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 89 Beasts . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 89 “Exotic” Variants . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 89 Armor & Battlegear . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 90 Weaponry, Swords . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 90 Weaponry, Assorted Handheld . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 90 Weaponry, Ranged . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 90 Weaponry, Heavy Duty . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 90 Alchemist, Apothecary . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 90 Wizard, Priest, and Scholar . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 91 Passage . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 91 Freighting . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 91 Advanced Shipping & Stealing . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 91 Event Admission . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 92 Services & Servants . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 92 Slave, Bounty & Ransom . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 92 Lifestyle . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 92 Be It Ever So Humble . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 92 Land & Air Transport . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 92 Water Transport . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 93 Particular Treasures: Four Banned Books . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 93 The Appendices . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 94 Notes on Naming . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 94 Big Table of Life-Altering Moments . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 98 Mastery . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 102 Units of Measurement . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 104 Uresia: Family Tree . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 105 About the Illustrators . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 106 About the Author . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 106 Uresia: OST . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 107

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Fragments of Falling Stars

Skyfall


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� The Wine God: In Helt, he’s called Tom Beer, a laughing party-animal. In the Volenwood, she’s Nysha, Goddess of the Vine, and patron of the vintners’ art. In Sindra, they call it Golu: Shadow of Drunkards, a spectre the victim can escape only by plunging deeper into darkness. Each is a facet of an enigmatic whole, but that the Wine God makes more personal appearances in Helt tells man something … even if it’s only how the Wine God prefers to be imagined.

The Survivors In the untold years since the Skyfall, a few have survived to build again: Men: Uresians consider all “civilized” races part of mankind. The many races of Man include Humans, Elves, cat-men (“Creesh”), Minotaur, Dwarves, Satyrs, and more. Just a handful of each survived, clinging to the broken outer islands … but feeling a pull, a painful longing, to sail inward to where the heavens had fallen. Legend has it that the survivors saw Uresia in dreams, and the dreams wouldn’t let them rest. They made their way across the water, and claimed the ruins of heaven as the domain of Man.

Not a single god of being nice or god of being naughty. No death gods, no healing gods, no gods of killing them all and no gods to sort them out later. As far as many are concerned, no gods at all.

Trolls: Uresians refer to “uncivilized” races as “false men,” “un-men,” “debased men” or – more commonly – Trolls. There are ogrish Trolls, reptilian Trolls, and others. They’re mostly big, mostly strong, and mostly smarter than most men assume. The “Man/Troll” distinction is just bigotry for the most part, but the true Troll races do have one thing in common: no longing draws them from the broken ring that remains of the ancient world. So, most of them live there still, amid the ruins. When mankind sailed away, they claimed the scorched and broken islands as the domain of Trolls. Gods: Out of thousands destroyed, a few gods seem to have survived the Skyfall. They’re an unmatched set: morally ambiguous, unconcerned with one another, and largely aloof to mortal man. � The Primal One: God of animal urges – of want, hunger, instinct, and lust. Some could mistake the Primal One for “evil,” but it’s both above and beneath such things. It’s the shadowy essence of hungry, lusty instinct. It cares only for its natural subjects, the wildest of the beasts. Paradoxically, the Primal One is the secret ruler of a mortal kingdom; few outside it understand that this god lives. � The Sea Dragon: Serpentine goddess of wind and storm at sea; she protects the secrets of the deep. The Sea Dragon is a fickle and destructive god, driven by alien motives and fond of drowning anything weak enough to require air to breathe. Honest sailors pray to her, mad villains attempt to bind her allegiance, each to no avail. She commands and shelters a secret cult of children. � The Arbiters: Their genders and personalities – even their number – vary according to whom you ask, but their area of concern is straightforward: they like any contest, so long as it’s fair. They’ve no preference between war and peace or right and wrong, so long as men compete, striving for victory, rightly judged. These cosmic referees inspire in most Uresian societies an obsession for contest and sport.


Of course, some men (and many kings) love the idea of gods, so there are churches and clergymen, worshiping those long lost and, in many cases, vigorously denying their demise. And, it’s possible that the death of gods is a half-truth, since some seem to have left ghosts behind … haunting the ruins of their ancient realms, half-crushed labyrinths beneath the ground. Others: Finally, there are things neither man, nor Troll, nor god. Maybe they survived the Skyfall; maybe the Skyfall created them; maybe they’ve just wandered along since, but they are here: vampires, dragons, woodland spirits, elementals, demons, and uncountable hundreds more. Uresia is richly populated with others. Most just live as best they can; some become heroes.

Welcome Home “The Empress was surely mad, but she said one thing I recall as lucid: that if the gods truly destroyed themselves, we are doomed to infancy … because the privilege of dismissing them should have been ours. Without that rite of passage, we can never grow beyond what we are.” � Viranax Capresti, Lesser House Vuriam It’s been many centuries since the sky fell. In some remote lands, even the legend of the Skyfall has died. Men have been busy building cities, countries, and lives again. It’s a delicate and dangerous time, a generation after a mad empire fell in the greatest war in memory. Sorcerers have unearthed long-forgotten truths, scholars are assembling questions with dangerous answers, and wicked plots are grinding into motion. Amid all these things, the kingdoms of man – scarcely concerned with each other before the war – are at last venturing out, clasping hands, trading goods, and exploring the world, instead of cowering from it. Uresia is a world of opportunities and dangers, but it isn’t clear – yet – which tale will dominate the canvas. The lines of possibility are numerous, chaotic, and free for the taking. Uresia has matured, and it’s time for heroes, villains, fortune-seekers and ordinary men to determine what happens next.

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The Islands

T

here are more than a thousand islands in the inner seas, most of them too small to appear on the map shown here. They’re separated from the Troll Lands by the watery Divide, a ring of ocean where magic fades, and where ships lose all sight of land … very treacherous to the caravels of man, navigated by landsightings and rigged with enchanted sails … This chapter explores the most important Uresian lands – the dozen or so realms large enough to form the hopeful beginnings of a world community. These include kingdoms ruled by secret forces, kingdoms ruled by greed, kingdoms ruled by fear, and a good many ruled by actual kings.

These principal kingdoms are attended by dozens of lesser realms: independent holdings by warlords in the hills, bandit territories clustered along remote borders, barbarian tribes commanding the wild reaches, and entire kingdoms thriving on the smaller islands, and more. These may be ignored or explored at need, even during the process of character creation: if none of the kingdoms here appeal to a player as a choice of homeland, his ideal is out there, somewhere, waiting to be noticed. These “invisible” lands aren’t yet important on the world scale, but one day they might be, when one of their own makes a mark.

Map: Adventurer’s Guide to Common Runes


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Birah

What the Summaries Mean

Lay down, little sister / The cold earth will warm you

“Climate” emphasizes the weather travelers come to associate with each country, so they’re skewed a bit towards the most-visited areas and mosttraveled seasons.

Lay down my beloved / The leaves are your blanket Resist not the forest / Resist not its anger Its teeth are your birthright / Its hunger your purpose

“Society” provides a quick glance at governments, current rulers, and the most visible and ubiquitous races. This excludes both minor states (the Galonite church lands in Temphis, for example, or barbarian tribes anywhere) and hundreds of races, including those scattered very thinly across the grave (Slimes, Goblins, etc.) and unique races limited to a single faraway glen or obscure vale.

� From A Suppressed Birah Folksong Climate: Temperate to cool, prone to fog and rain Society: A large Elvish kingdom, apparently ruled by Isylver, the Dawning Princess – but ruled truly (and secretly) by her masters, the bestial agents of the Primal One. The Birahni are mostly Elves, with a few Humans, Hramath (page 70) and others. Language: Imuel, the language of fable, is the language others call “Elvish.” It’s also the language of the less-visible fairy races, from the elusive sylphs to the maddening leprechauns. Its flowing script is called Nandrée, an ancient word for whispers, or meaningful silences.

“Language,” continuing the trend, lists only those that dominate. In every land, other languages (or highly variant dialects) thrive, and where one tongue begins and another ends can be a tricky question. “Currency” refers to monies recognized by the prevailing rulers. For sanity’s sake (and for ease of game-system conversion), the text “ballparks” each coin’s buying power and expresses it in comparison to a single standard: the Rinden copper piece, or guilder ($$).

Currency: Birah uses Kovali coinage (page 20), a remnant of the days of empire. Cities: Danion’s Path; Harpertown; Laughingwater; Disera; Lan. Birah is an Elvish land, cool and foggy, past the northern border of Koval. It’s the only kingdom ever to free itself from Kovali imperial rule, but it did so at a heavy price. If not for Koval (see page 20), Birah would be a lot like the Volenwood – a land of deep forests and few cities, where Elves play at harping and live in harmony with the world. Instead, they are in many ways stark opposites. Birah is unmistakably Elvish … the cities smell of woodsmoke and wine, and it’s difficult to tell the trees and buildings apart. There are, though, as many cities here as in a Human country, and the Elves aren’t in harmony with nature – they’re slaves to it. Human poets write sonnets praising Birah’s gnarled oaks and foggy riverbanks, but behind the oaks and within the rivers, monsters lurk. In Birah, the monsters also rule. Decades of subjugation beneath the boot of the Koval Empire put a hard edge on the Elves of Birah. They’re serious, dangerous, and proud. Despite their delicate beauty, they include among them the masters of the world’s deadliest forms of open-hand fighting. They’re accustomed to killing, and to being killed.

“Cities” appear in population order (largest first, then descending). Only the largest settlements are listed (not towns, villages, etc). For a zoomed-in example of a Uresian city, see Shadow River, starting on page 47. appetite for glory consumed lives by the thousands. She sent armies into the Elvish woods with torches and blades, to ensure Birah would kneel at her command. Cities were gutted and burned. The Elves begged their rulers, a council of noble elders, to rescue them. The elders went into the forest to confer with the most secret beings that dwell there: ancient demons of lust and hunger and rage, avatars of a surviving god. They begged for aid, knowing that the beast-demons could teach them the secrets of animal deadliness in combat, if only they could convince them that the beasts, too, were now in danger.

Intelligent animals are common in Uresia (though not everyone knows it). In places like this, where wild magic is thick in the air, they’re nearly the norm, and much of Elf-lore is really beast-lore, secrets shared by animals and Elves in ancient friendship. So, the Elves of Birah have always known the herbs that heal, the sorcery inherent in music, and the secrets beneath the roots of trees. These skills earned Birah the respect of the Koval Emperors, but Birah remained a slave state.

The primal forces were unmoved by Elvish sentiment, but proposed an exchange. From that day forward, the wild things of the forest would command Birah as their own, and monsters would roam free, feeding and sporting as they pleased without hindrance. If a monster felt an urge for the taste of maidenflesh, for example, it would be greeted in the town with fearful respect, not fiery magic and clouds of arrows. In exchange, the demons said, they would protect the Elves fiercely as their subjects, and teach them the secret truths of monsters, including the magic fighting-styles of the deadliest beasts, both living and long lost.

As the years wore on and Koval grew old and bitter, conditions in Birah grew worse. In 1308, Madwoman Voriis ascended to the Koval throne, and her insatiable

The elders were shocked, but without the power to resist Koval, all of Birah might fall to the Kovali slaughter. When the beast-demons made it plain that they intended to feast


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on the elders themselves to seal the bargain, the Elf rulers quietly accepted their fate. The “Wild Pact” was signed with a rake of claws into noble flesh, and a howl of liberty rose in the collective throat of the forest. No common Elves were eaten that year. The beasts busied themselves gorging on nobles, and then on Kovali soldiers. The woodland shadows spilled forth more fur and tooth and ire than any Elf knew hid there. The Koval war machine was driven out of Birah in a wave of humiliation and blood. The primal demons spared the lives of just a few dozen Elves of royal blood, and chose a young girl – The Dawning Princess – to be their figurehead, the girl who would speak for Birah to the world, and pretend to be its monarch. Unusual Sights: The city of Laughingwater is a foggy maze of great oaks and natural waterfalls, lit by thousands of hanging lanterns. Unusual Dangers: Beyond Birah’s borders, the Wild Pact is unknown. Consequently, well-meaning foreigners sometimes make a terrible (if heroic) mistake: they rush to do battle when a beast wanders into town to feed. The consequences are usually tragic; the hid-

den court deals harshly with any trespass on the Pact. Recently, an entire village was savaged, their bones left to mold in the mists, because they’d harbored a warrior who dared rescue a girl from the talons of a wolf-demon. The warrior, a Temphisian treasure-hunter named Glarn, escaped the carnage with a few villagers in tow, but they haven’t been heard from since. It’s likely they never left the forest alive. Birah Magic: Modern Birah sorcery focuses on the martial – both flashy battlefield spells and magic-enhanced personal combat. The Duandralin are Birah’s elite warriors, masters of the “monster styles” – enchanted open-hand fighting techniques taught to Birah by their primal masters. Some Duandralin can even change shape. Beneath the more visible violence of Duandralintype arts, traditional and gentler Elf-lore plays a vanishing secondary role. Absence of the Arbiters: The Arbiters seem to have little interest in a realm claimed so totally by the Primal One. So, Birah often lacks the enthusiasm for friendly competition present in most other lands. Birah has no signature “national sport,” and only a handful of regional contests. The Birah zeal for the martial arts springs from years of servitude to Koval, and to the nature of the Pact.

Caravels Caravels are small, stout ships with three (rarely, four) masts. Most are 50-60 feet long, with a 14-18 foot beam and a loaded draft of 6-7 feet. Merchant caravels can operate with a crew as small as a half-dozen (with difficulty), but a typical merchant crew is 10 or more. Ships outfitted for military service, exploration and other tasks carry more (usually as many men as the ship can bear). A typical merchant caravel can carry a hundred tons of cargo and 20 or so souls in reasonable comfort (or at least, what a sailor would consider reasonable comfort, sleeping in the open spray). Their painted sails are frequently enchanted – an art mastered by towns along the south coast of Dreed, where the “ghost flax” grows and witches weave it into magic sailcloth. The sails attract benign wind-sprites, granting fairer breezes than nature alone would provide. Most ships carry two boats, stacked and strapped to the deck. A speed of 5 knots or so is brisk for a caravel, but under the best (but most dangerous) conditions, they can double that before meeting disaster. The caravel has dominated Uresian shipping for years; its image is the universal symbol of a mariner’s life. That said, other (usually older) designs are common. Galleys, longships and more sail the waters of heaven’s grave, as appropriate to local needs and resources. Even within a single type, ships vary according to who built them and when; the ships of the Rindenland are


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slower but more stable, for example, than the slender vessels of Boru. The newest caravels have ship’s wheels; older ones have tillers. Tonnage can vary from the hundred-ton standard by 50 tons in either direction (with the largest ships appearing only in the last few years). Rigging varies mostly by climate: southern caravels are three-masted lateeners (with the largest sail forward, on the mainmast), while northern caravels are three- or four-masted vessels with square sails on the mainmast and (if there is one) the foremast. Captains of adventuring vessels often have them re-rigged at port, to suit local conditions.

Naval Guns Most caravels are strictly merchant ships, and carry no guns. Ships outfitted to defend against pirates or sea monsters, however, carry a light cannon or two in the hold, hauling it out for trouble. Caravels outfitted for military duty have three or four such guns, with sluggish hulls reinforced against ramming. Cannonfire seldom dominates naval combat, but an opening volley makes a fine prologue for the clash of sword on sword. Uresian cannon are fired over the bulwarks, and it takes two crewmen to haul and man one. Naval cannonballs are similar to those fired by the larger, land-bound bombards, but naval guns are built for a much weaker powder-charge. This keeps shipboard guns light enough to be hauled by hand and braced on simple rail- and swivel-mounts. Dedicated gunships are a gleam in many an admiral’s eye, but so far the only examples have been half-successful prototypes.





themselves as the only truly civilized country, and as bold seekers of revelation and beauty.

Boru The morality of a conqueror? The rightness of Varexinian or Ruibal? What are you considering, my Shah? Please recall the words of Garigan: to consider your path, first scour it of romance … and what is ‘conquest’ but poesy? A guarded way to say ‘brutish robbery’ on a grand scale? That, my Shah, is the ‘morality’ of a man like Ruibal: a thug seizing beauty because he was too limited – and too cowardly – to create it. � Disciple Barathan, to the Shah

Boru society is stratified, but with many alternate paths from rags to riches. Sorcery and scholarship are encouraged even among slaves. Everyone is expected to better themselves, and those who don’t “deserve their lot” and (according to Boru law) justify their low standing. Beneath the Shah there are the viziers, princes, royal consorts, saint-sages, ennobled wizards, and dozens of others with powers temporal and otherwise. While a Boru lawyer could explain which title is technically above each other, those laws are observed most often in the breach. In Boru, influence is an open game, and the fickle Shah is the Game Master. Sport and Contest: Young Boru work to master exotic, sensual, magic dances, crisply snapping ankle-bells and subtly swaying torsos to inspire, titillate, and hypnotize. Sindra gave Boru special recognition in 1291 for the development of these arts, which the Sindran Council proclaimed true “high magic,” since it blurs so perfectly the perceived divide between sorcery and inspired skill. There are four Great Contests each year, each judged by Mezaan himself. It’s dangerous to win too impressively, though – some winners (young men and women alike) receive an invitation to life in the Shah’s harem. To refuse such an honor is an insult worthy of a public execution.

Climate: Very warm to warmly temperate, with short but intense seasons of rainstorms Society: A tightly knit confederation of principalities, bound to the rule of Shah Mezaan, the High Dreamer. The population is roughly two-thirds Human, with large minority populations of Elves, Satyrs, Trolls and Minotaur. There are Troll villages in the Gandi uplands. Language: The language of Boru is Paldu. The Kovali call it Zuramese, in reference to an archaic dialect once associated with royalty, but long since fallen to the dust of old scrolls, street slang and debating-parlor pretense.

The elderly Boru have their own sport: philosophical debate. The Great Contest happens once every five years, more or less, in accordance with complex traditions tied to lunar cycles. Learned heads gather by the hundreds, a murmuring sea of wispy grey hair and shining bald pates. Prior victors judge the arguments, which must combine passion, reason, and new insights. Losers are shamed, and often set sail for other lands, or commit suicide. The winners are the most revered men and women in Boru, and want for nothing.

Currency: Rahzi ($$1), Ohlrahzi ($$10), Tamrahzi ($$100) and Tamboru ($$1,000). Jewelry-money (usually rings; sometimes pins or ornaments) is as common as coinage proper, worn on fingers and toes, or strung on long cords by street merchants. Cities: Borumaga; Synsa; Toshish; Votus The Boru principalities cover two large islands at the southern edge of Uresia – Noitan (the largest) and Gandi. Their eastern ports sit within two days’ sail of Koval, the closest neighbor. Koval used to invade here regularly in the days of the Empire, but never with any long-term success. Boru has a strong navy and even stronger magic, and the Shah is careful to make no enemies. Most foreigners think of Boru as exotic and distant – a place of silk banners and shining minarets, where luxuries and fine rarities come from. It is.

Unusual Sights: Not far from Toshish is the Hangdesh River Gorge, a deep chasm that is home to warring flocks of mini-dragons – dog-sized creatures with wingspans larger than two tall men. During the late summer, the gorge fills with smoke as the creatures battle for mates; a red haze colors the sky for several days afterward.

Boru Magic: Boru sorcery is the magic of the senses. They practice subtle arts of In summertime, the Boru breezes smell like illusion and experience, for trickery, educaspices and tremble with the music of tion, and for thrills. Boru magic is a broad gongs. In the brief winter, dancers gather Erin Sabin, Blessed of the Shah set of disciplines emphasizing real skill, in the falling snow to weave spells with and Consort to Vizier Bandari not just crude manipulation of magical their bodies. The Boru value truth … so energies. If a man can be hypnotized with long as it’s dramatic. They look for it in clouds of incense a sway of a woman’s hips, they reason, it is much more and they celebrate it in atonal chants. Koval regards sensible (and appealing) to get a woman to sway than the Boru as self-justifying hedonists; the Boru regard to spin a shining coin or pump a room full of drugged


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smoke. On the other hand, the Boru love to overdo things, so a woman, a coin, and a roomful of drugged smoke will be the preferred method, given the resources.

example) it just seems that some Men have a … a certain something that Trolls feel kinship to.

Troll Nature: In Boru, Trolls are a ubiquitous minority, acting as servants to noble and merchant houses, performing cheap labor in the cities, and keeping (mostly) to themselves in the “blacklander” hills of Gandi. And so, in Boru, it’s not unheard of for real friendships to form between Trolls and the fumakta ravarr (a Gandi Troll word for “mankind” in its broadest sense). Sometimes, a Troll will pay a friend a very special compliment, declaring him to possess “Troll nature” (dra breguja, “less depleted”). Most Boru recognize this as a compliment, even if they don’t understand why it would be. But Dra Breguja may be more than just kind words. Those so praised claim that Trolls – even Trolls they’ve never met before – sometimes recognize the Troll nature instinctively, and treat them with more immediate kindness. They are not imagining things, or at least, not entirely. The elusive quality that many Trolls can see is genuine, but neither Man nor ordinary Troll know what the quality means, if it means anything at all (some Troll mystics and wise-women will smile cryptically when asked about it). It corresponds to no “power” Men consider useful (it makes the Troll Lands no easier to withstand emotionally, for

Recognizing that many Men would consider “Troll nature” a dire insult (especially beyond Boru), Trolls only point it out to friends who might genuinely appreciate it. Unusual Dangers: The warm southern waters of the Divide wet Boru’s shores, and they’re brimming with creatures that coil around ships to crush them, and even a few that can crawl onto land. The late spring storms, though, kill more sailors, without the help of any monsters save the rain-sprites – tiny demons that ride thunderstorms and profit from the misery of mortals. Most travelers are cautious in the rural hills of Gandi, but the Trolls there are peaceful, and some even read. Anyone with a purse of gold should beware in Boru’s cities – the merchants are as wily as the ones in Dreed, and they work in clouds of intoxicating smoke, too. Ruins and Opportunities: Travelers go to Boru for the exotic atmosphere, the rare spices and drugs, the unusual alchemy, and the intoxicating dances. Delvers go there seeking the particular ruins of the gods of lust and sensuality, and chasing rumors about a gateway to the ruins of Baltaan (a godly city-state described in ancient scrolls as one big happy orgy) that revealed itself last year in southern Noitan. leap from a cliff, toss an alchemical bomb, or anything else foolhardy. A portion of the god’s “Unruly Citadel” is almost certainly among the Mount Brataan ruins of northern Boru. A gleaming white-metal greatsword, plucked from a throne there, stands in a courtyard in the Sindran city – a gift from the High Dreamer.

Three Dead Gods to Swear By While many of the fallen gods “survive” in the form of enduring cults and faiths, there are also gods whom almost nobody worships but almost everyone knows by name. These are gods that survive in the form of traditions, oaths, and figures of speech. A sampling: Hudicus – One of the many gods and goddesses of love. According to legend, mortals struck by passion were smitten by his rose-crystal sword, an unerring stroke that decapitates its targets – metaphorically? – granting them liberty from reason and leaving only their hearts (and other bits below the neck) to rule them. To this day, “headless” or “under the rose-blade” mean enamored, and the oath “By Hudicus!” is the verbal equivalent of a wolf-whistle. The quest for the rosecrystal blade is a popular one: some seek it to win hearts or free themselves from tedious reason; others are drawn to the blade’s infallible accuracy (and hope it can cut flesh as well as soul). Ballicazar – Ballicazar was a god of berserkers and mad killers, his name invoked in ancient days as a battle cry, a plea for glorious death (preferably for the enemy). His is a legend of bloody rage and thoughtless risk, so it’s a minor irony that a scholarly city of Sindra bears his name. Today, wizards and warriors alike shout “BALLICAZAR!” when they’re about to attack,


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The Daughters – “By Lusa, Leyn and Lailu” amounts to a cross-my-heart promise in Uresia, since this sisterly trio of goddesses embodied the qualities of (respectively) loyalty, innocence, and confession. They were heroic youngsters in a family pantheon, with no temples of their own. Today, invoking the Daughters is a verbal seal on an oath of allegiance or partnership. Images of the trio are common on mercantile seals and in some alchemical texts, where they’re associated with anti-aging unguents and other preparations designed to create, emulate or desperately recapture some aspect of unspoiled youth (including the controversial “re-virgining” potions popular among Dwarvish teens in Blind Owl City). Legends of the Daughters include what may be the very first magical toy accessories used to smite evil – an inspiration to wideeyed magical girls across the grave. In 1250, a ferocious multi-hued puppy claiming to be Leyn’s own “Prism Bright” slaughtered nine farmers in an Elu colony before Minotaur hero Vasalt Haggarty arrived to slay it. If the insane creature really was Prism Bright, it may be that the other holy pets survive in hiding.





kingdom, a place of green mountain slopes and grey, rocky peaks, where crossbows and clockwork are valued equally. The people wear a good deal of leather.

Celar There are some places in the world which, when you get to, your first thought is – how shall I get away again; and of those Celar is one.

Outsiders are seldom comfortable in Celar, where expectations are extreme and the geography is perilous. The kingdom is robustly and proudly sexist, for starters: any man without leather shorts and dueling scars – and who can’t down his own weight in beer and still wrestle a horse to the ground – is considered weak, and the Celari aren’t shy about mocking the weak.

� From the diary of Edward Ducey of Sindra, 1204 Climate: Cold and windy, with frequent snowfall high in the mountains

Women, by contrast, must be either buxom or willowy, must be cheerful with rosy cheeks when the men are sober, and must become responsible and alert when they’re not. When a man or his horse is too drunk to wrestle, his woman must be able to carry them home.

Society: A squabbling pack of duchies and baronies united approximately as a kingdom (since 1044) by House Ordelweiss. The current monarch is His Robust Majesty, King Sigurd IV. Population is largely Human, with scattered Dwarf and Hramath communities.

Celar’s ridiculously macho culture may derive from a kind of victory envy, since Celar has never won a war against its neighbors. The result has been a terrible spiral: each barony’s army is trained to be arrogant and certain of their superiority, making each new attempt to organize the troops on a national level more difficult than the last. Celar has even lost a few major battles before they began, when competing troops knocked themselves out the previous night with drinking contests.

Languages: Celar is a brusque tongue, well suited for a drunken tirade, a rousing war-speech, or a brutal dressing-down. It’s a mix of Tembrian (page 26) with Old Draethic, an antiquated native tongue. Currency: Gelden ($$1), Drafen ($$10), Aumen ($$100) and Kronen ($$1,000). Cities: Vurndenburg; Strassfein; Brach Vorn; Elksdraven; Kreuzinger; Vaussburg

Sport and Contest: While other Rindenlanders would probably insist that consuming alcohol is Celar’s “national sport,” fencing and brawling are the Celari competitive obsessions, and Celari men never hesitate

Celar is a kingdom where honor isn’t honor unless there are scars to show for it, and where the beer is stronger and darker than any other land in Uresia. It’s a burly

summoned to ambush him. She’d plotted a painful demise for the Slime, but Plurt spotted her early, in the act of corralling the giant spider she’d chosen for the job. Ever the swashbuckling hero, he rushed in to rescue her from the beast. His rapier flashed once, twice, and thud. Framed by a vast spider-corpse silhouette, he doffed his cap modestly to the demongirl, who fell in love with him: instantly, totally, and without room for negotiation.

Plurt & Zumi In the sizzling summer of ‘72, Plurt – gentleman Slime of the Tyrenees – encountered some delvers calling themselves the Liberty Brotherhood. Plurt was impressed by their skills, but alarmed by their sad origins: they were a band of boys and young men thrown together by a mutual need to escape … from their magical girlfriends. One was on the run from a shapely-but-clingy golem girl, another from a perky Mermaid witch, still another from an adoring ghost princess. There were seven in all, each too spineless – Plurt supposed – to simply dump their girl and be done with it. Plurt and the Liberties adventured together for a time, defending a Dreed mining camp from a clutch of Emerald Worms. In the final battle, one of the lads was sucked into a worm’s maw, devoured in a messy spray. Another had been hauled away, kicking and bawling, by a tabby cat-girl with a pair of giant gloves, a mean left hook, a teddy-bear backpack and a gift for tracking. That night, Plurt sat staring into the darkness, trying to decide which had been the greater tragedy. The next day, he bid the Liberties farewell, and set out looking for friends he could respect. In the bitter winter of ‘76, in a fungal forest in Sindra, Plurt had a change of heart. The girl to inspire it was Imp Assassin Zumi, a sweet-looking demoness


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They travel together, now, back in Plurt’s homeland, near Strassfein. She tells everyone they meet – everyone – how “great” the sex is (it’s her duty as a wife, she whispers, to make him feel studlier than the other Slimes). Plurt smiles a weak, powerless smile. He has not, to his knowledge, had sex with Zumi. He most certainly hasn’t married her. He’s tried to sneak away, but the powers of an Imp Assassin are considerable. Plurt can’t decide: quest, under pretext, for a way to destroy Zumi? Or just give in to madness and fall in love? She’s clever, playful and deadly … traits Plurt admires. Her wriggly hugs are really nice. Just maybe, he resists because she chose him instead of the other way ‘round? A gentleman Slime has certain standards – and certain hang-ups. Some nights, snuggled warmly but inescapably to his girl, Plurt once again stares into the darkness, wondering what ever became of the Liberty Brotherhood, and what might become of him.





to organize a tournament, or to empty pockets to fuel a wager. That said, the Great Contests held annually in each of Celar’s cities feature just as many impromptu battles of drinking prowess as more formalized battles of swordplay and pugilism. Celari Magic: Celari mages tend to be jacks of many trades, combining crude, heavy-handed elemental magic with harebrained mechanical engineering and dangerous forms of alchemy. In their way, they’re just as loud and macho as Celari warriors, building clockwork golems and thunderstorm-powered gunboats to compensate for their less impressive brawn (they still bench press large dogs to impress passing women, though – Celar has no patience for milksops). Their affection for alchemy makes their drinking contests a hazard to civilian safety. The Marvo Ruins: There is a half-ruined monastery atop the Valdencrag occupied by young women who speak only broken Celar. Their skin is deep olive; their hair black and grey; their eyes like piercing emeralds. The Celari living in nearby mining villages accept them as friendly (if mysterious) neighbors, and few others know about them. Every year, a small group of the women rides to the castle of the local Duke with a gift of silver ingots to serve as a tax. They never trade for food or tools – only bolts of cloth.

but wanderers soon discover that most lands have hundreds (perhaps thousands) of local contests that inspire similar passion. The annual Sour Plum Jam contest (Rogan’s Heath, page 45) is one such. Another, slightly odder example is exclusive to the Celari city of Vaussburg: the foolhardy sport of waterfall climbing. Vaussburg straddles a wide rock ridge, with a high cliff separating the nobles and wealthy merchants from the common craftsmen and marketplaces. The Vaussen River cuts across that line toward the sea, and the result is the Vaussenstrom – a violent, magnificent waterfall at the heart of the city. Over the centuries, the town has framed the falls in ornate bridges, balconies, and pools, but the native cliff face beneath is unchanged. In 821 (so the story goes) a brawny heroine named Elsa Dondertys ascended that cliff, in the full blast of the Vaussenstrom, while in pursuit of a particularly plump pigeon for her dinner. Thus was the sport of Celari waterfall climbing born, and there it lives on, in the only place that wants it. The regular competitions are popular, but simply running through the streets declaring intent to make the 65-foot ascent is enough to draw a lot of attention. Failure can be disastrous: although the falls aren’t as high as some, the water is cold and fast, and the rocks at the bottom are as sharp and unyielding as any. Streetside vendors descend on the place selling beer, ices, and full-body casts at a hideous mark-up.

The “monastery” is the remnant of Marvo, one of the few godly cities to survive the Skyfall without being buried under rock and earth. The By Thunder, We Sail: The fastest ships to sail the women are divine immortals, handgrave are the Celari thunderships, built to harness maidens of the goddesses of reason the raw force of thunderstorms. Cutting the waves and trickery (sisters – now deceased before a tunnel of cyclonic wind and lightning, – in a lost pantheon). The handthese flamboyant vessels can cover more than 150 maidens have few powers apart from leagues per day (compare to speeds under immortality and supernatural skill sail; page 39). However, no thundership has as seamstresses, but they survived even one year without slipare the keepers of many ping into the brine. Each ship’s secrets. After centuries of disaster has been unique: observing the world, they some have been attributable have begun to accept that they to Celari enthusiasm and/or 74.4% of Celari Faiths Endorse Assassin/ may never have a real role in it craftsmanship, but most to Target Marriage; Others Feel It Undermines again, and that their knowledge is building a ship that requires the Institution of Assassination a danger to everyone. Last winter, dangerous weather to perform. 17 of them elected to destroy themselves in grief, and The thunderships not only tempt the ire of the Sea urged their remaining sisters to do the same. Dragon, they use her own resources to do it. Unusual Sounds: At the southernmost edge of Celar, near the Rinden border, a volcanic peak is known as the Grieving Mountain, for while it belches forth nothing but harmless clouds of steam, the steam echoes with wails of misery. Delvers have searched in vain for tunnels or ruins of any kind. Waterfall Climbing: This book explores the most prominent “national” sports beloved by each kingdom,


Most thunderships have been gun-laden attack vessels built with dreams of shredding navies and bullying coastal towns, though many have distinguished themselves impressively as cargo runners, carrying arms and provisions swiftly through storms other ships couldn’t brave. Famously, a thundership carried the “victory company” of Emerald Knights – champion suit-riders from all the kingdoms of the Rindenland – at the end of the Koval Wars.

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Dreed

What Banner Does She Fly?

And there upon the hillcrest stood the rat. It seemed to salute, with a twist of a whisker, then dive to the shadows beyond. The Prince’s heart swelled, for he had learned that which would vault him to greatness: be kind to one’s brethren, be mercificul to one’s foes, and most of all: be generous to every rat, and that generosity will be repaid.

Here’s a simple d100 chart for selecting a ship’s home, based on the size of each country’s merchant fleet. Since traders and delvers have a lot in common, it’s also useful for determining where NPC adventurers hail from. 01-02 03-04 05-09 10-16 17-19 20 21-27 28-44 45-50 51 52 53-67 68-83 84-94 95-98 99-00

� Folktales of the Trurogs (2nd Corrected Edition, Ballicazar Collection) Climate: Cool to temperate, lush Society: Largely anarchic city-states bound by a glue of prosperity and mellow apathy. Technically, the “Dreed Republic” is a kind of federated constitutional monarchy ruled by King Timberfell IV, but the king exerts little authority, and the city-states and trading towns (each driven by a complex bureaucracy answering to the local electorate) wouldn’t notice if he tried. The population is predominantly Human. Languages: Dreed is a Tembrian language (see the entry for Rinden, page 26). Some north-Dreed regions actually speak Celar, but Dreed is the only language recognized by the Crown (in fact, hot food and cute underwear are the only “languages” His Majesty really responds to, but nobody wants to write that into law).

* Or – 50/50 chance – somewhere with a fleet even smaller than the Elus (one of the many minor “invisible” realms; see page 7).

Currency: Guilders ($$1), Rundles ($$10), Omens ($$100) and Sovereigns ($$1,000). Cities: Vanity; Indulgence; Passion; Jubilance Dreed is a large, mountainous island marking the western edge of the Lod Sea, enjoying an enviable position between Temphis, the Rindenland, Sindra, and the Elu trade lanes to Helt. It’s the wealthiest realm in Uresia, and the most peaceful. His Right Majesty, Timberfell the Lusty, rules Dreed with an iron stomach. Provided the provincial governors send chefs and samples of Dreed’s ever-changing food culture, Timberfell couldn’t care less about obedience and order. It’s rumored the castle (north of Vanity) houses more cooks than soldiers. Dreed is bisected by the lofty crags of the Trurog mountain range, and the Trurogs are the reason Dreed can prosper in apathy while other islands struggle even in vigilance: they’re the grave’s richest source of emeralds, the most precious objects in the world. The emeralds keep Dreed rich, peaceful, and happy beyond the limits of common sense. Sindran sorcerers need them, desperately, for magical experiments. Rinden artificers need them to power the armor of Emerald Knights. Temphisian dukes stockpile them, greedily, in case they ever need anything from Sindra or the Rindenland, and so on. They’re the master coin of international commerce. Dreed takes government casually, but it takes emerald mining seriously. Dreed emerald miners and gemcutters are well paid, celebrated, and admired. Their handiwork


Anandriel Birah Boru Celar Dreed Elu Islands* Helt Koval Laöch Lochria Orgalt Rinden Sindra Temphis Winnow Yem

is available worldwide. Dreed sells giant emeralds to the highest royal bidder, trading them for favors without gouging or making ridiculous demands. The wealth generated by fair emerald trade supports four robust cities, and related traffic guarantees good markets for everyone down to the lowliest root farmer. Since Dreed maintains a near-monopoly on emeralds and maintains it professionally, the neighboring states make no attempt at conquest, and actively discourage one another from considering it. They’d rather have a healthy, predictable market with a known provider than let a rival upset the balance. For more about emeralds, see page 86. The Four Cities: The governors of Vanity, Indulgence, Passion and Jubilance (Timberfell renamed the cities ten years ago when a rare fit of authority mixed with a more usual fit of inebriation) are the real rulers of Dreed. Unlike the royal family, the Governors are elected officials, but they find it useful to remain loyal to Timberfell and to the aesthetic ideals of monarchial rule. Timberfell is, after all, both pliant and likeable, and centralized rulership insures that the cities can relax and compete with one another without bothersome larger concerns or disruptive open warfare. In essence, the republican city-states keep the crown handy as referee, scapegoat or distraction, depending on the needs of the day. Several of the larger trading towns sport pocket-sized versions of the city governments (complete with pocket-sized versions of their wealth and autonomy). Rats: The rats of Dreed are the smartest (and best-fed) rats in Uresia, and possibly the smartest race in heaven’s

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grave. Above all, they’re smart enough to keep their sophisticated intelligence a secret from most Humans, preferring to live as they please, with minimal responsibility. They’re careful to nudge societal opinion of rats to suit them, though: in Dreed, it’s considered terrible luck to harm a rat, and it’s no accident that Dreed folklore emphasize rat kindness, rat humility, and miracles bestowed on those who’ve lent aid to rats in danger.

The birthday feast of the old King’s youngest daughter – a massive party that also celebrated trade alliances with Celar – drew the boy like a moth to flame, putting him in just the right place, at just the right time, to rescue the entire kingdom from a murderous usurper.

Cooking for Sport: One way the cities compete is for favor in the royal kitchens. Each city sponsors a master chef who takes residence in the royal palace, representing their home (and, by extension, the local cuisine) in Timberfell’s frequent cooking competitions – mad, rowdy affairs of gustatory delights and towering egos. The contests aren’t limited to the four masters, though – any cook who kneels at the palace gates insisting that he’s worthy will be admitted, to test his skills in the heat of the Dreed royal kitchens.

Timberfell (he took the name of his royal father-in-law at the court’s insistence) has no intention of going home, no intention of growing up (even though he’s nearly 60, now) and no intention of ever admitting that, back when he knocked the usurper to the ground and spilled incriminating scrolls all over the royal hall, he was just running for his life with a pair of stolen panties and a chicken leg. Giant Emeralds: In the mountains of Dreed, a miner’s pick will occasionally uncover a giant – an emerald the size of a child’s fist. Everything halts, then, as the masters send for a wizard (under armed guard) to oversee the stone’s removal from the earth. The guards aren’t there to ward off thieves, but to protect the wizard and the miners from monsters within the mountain. Many creatures feel drawn to the pulse released when lamplight awakens a great stone.

“Good cooks are never lonely” is a universal axiom, but in Dreed it’s a comical understatement. Anyone willing to raise a wooden spoon to declare his skill can live a life of comfort and celebrity in Dreed, either at the castle, or at any of the Governors’ abodes. All the Governors maintain elaborate versions of the King’s contests, in a constant quest for new talent. Rural towns and villages hold local contests, in turn, in hopes of discovering chefs that might impress the governors.

Some wizards whisper that giant emeralds aren’t quite as rare as Dreed lets on … that Dreed stockpiles them in secret vaults to insure the wealth of the Republic against the fickle fates. There may be some truth in that, but there’s probably more in this: It’s both safer and more profitable to cut the giants down into smaller stones. So, it may be that Dreed’s most trusted gemcutters are called upon to – sadly, carefully, reverently – do precisely that, and that only the finest giants are preserved.

The highest civilian honor in Dreed is the title “food god,” bestowed by Timberfell himself in the Great Contests at his palace. Each person so honored is declared “god” of a single These stones, cut to perfection, are a hundred type of cookery, and the times the size – with a thousand times the title is usually lifelong. danger – of an ordinary gem. They’re wild, esMost of the gods are sential magic, floodgates to a torrent of energy granted choice jobs too formidable for a flesh-and-blood wizard to in the bureaucracy. command without frying to a crisp … but with The God of Pork Noodles is Admiral of the Dreed extraordinary patience for ritual preparation, navy, while the Goddess of Dumplings is the skilled artificers can set them at the heart of King’s mistress. As the titles are whimsically mighty enchantments. assigned, they freely overlap. There is both Dreed’s gemcutters finish a giant stone only a God of Stew and a God of Black-Onion by special order of the king or his governors, Goulash, for example. Guillaume Altivari, God of and each commission represents considerThe Boy King: Timberfell isn’t from Uresia. Baguettes (1377-Present) able favor and trust. Even if you have the He came here as a teenage boy, through rumored 60-90 pounds imperial (pounds of a magical gateway his girlfriend’s rival solid gold), the giants are not trinkets for wealthy men; paramour activated as a trap. He wandered Dreed (then they’re the coin of kingdoms. Miners and gemcutters a much grimmer, but no less wealthy land) confused for smuggle stones on occasion, but it’s nearly impossible for nearly a year, led only by hunger and a lecherous passion a worker to slip away with a giant. Most “rogue” giants for young girls. The combination of both vaulted him have been forcibly stolen, plucked from ancient ruins, or unexpectedly into the throne. the product of outlaw mining operations.


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The Elu are a cluster of dozens of islands (several of them very large, but most of them tiny and uncharted) in the waters separating central Uresia from the Beastmen-dominated Heltish lands. There are no nations to speak of, but two large port cities (Thorny Cove and Longport) qualify as powerful, and rival, city-states. While the larger towns serve as semi-legitimate (if dangerous) trading ports, most of the islands around them exist in anarchy: they’re havens for pirates, thugs, and others that thrive on the open sea or in a secluded, ice-bound coastal cave. A sampling of the region’s locales, personalities, and mysteries follow.

Elu Islands Tonight I drape the mast, and my one regret is the space twixt what I did intend, and what I could with my hands achieve. These are the two trusts to be remember’ed, and I’m filthy to satisfy only one. Now I go to die. I did mean well, but I could not do it. � Captain Hinshaw’s final log entry (likely source of the “Two Trusts” axioms among the buccaneers)

Lord Fhario: The islands have their share of “pirate kings” – charismatic captains who inspire the loyalty of a small fleet or port-town instead of just a single vessel. The most unusual of these is Lord Fhario, a well-spoken, urbane, witty young dragon, two long tons of swashbuckling charm, complete with an eyepatch that many insist is an affectation. It wasn’t difficult for Lord Fhario to inspire the respect of his cohorts and attract more followers. His new town, Fhario’s Hope, supports a population of nearly three thousand, including a fleet of thieving ships that pay Fhario a heavy tax in booty in exchange for safe port and protection from foreign navies. Fhario rules from a massive tent on the hill overlooking his town, attended by scandalously clad cat-girls and a pack of grizzled, scarred lieutenants.

Climate: Cold, with some variation between islands; dangerous ice is common in the waters near many of the northernmost islands Society: No unified society; see below. The population is an even mix of Humans and Hramath, with scattered others. Languages: The Islands have no language of their own; each settlement favors a version of a language spoken nearby (Celar, Sindran, Heltish, etc.) frequently with a local accent so thick that travelers speaking the same tongue don’t recognize it at first. Elu speech is often heavy with Merchant Crude (page 36). Currency: The Elu city-states seldom strike coin; see “Dirty Money” (next page).

The Flotilla: The flotilla is an annual gathering of more than a hundred pirate ships, lashed together to form

Cities: Thorny Cove; Longport

movements, or which incorporate them into the counting and naming of the moons.

Reeling in the Years Every kingdom reckons time according to its own standards, but the Rinden “church calendar” is familiar: 12 months named March, April, May, June and so on, approximating our own year. The biggest difference is that the New Year begins with March. Most other kingdoms have similar calendars, but name the months differently. It’s also common to refer to the months descriptively, according to season (calling January “Midwinter” or August “Summersend,” etc). In a few lands (Orgalt, and some Heltish kingdoms) the New Year begins with summer, instead of spring. The month-method descends from the older moon-method, the “farmer’s calendar” (also called the Heltish method) which still dominates rural areas. The moon-calendar has twelve moons in most years, but adds a thirteenth every third year or so to take up the slack. The local name for each moon will be a reference to some important event it oversees … for example, the early-summer moon is called the “Scarab Moon” in Temphis, due to the annual plague of Peach Beetles in the southeast. In the Rindenland, the old High Tembrian moon-names were corrupted over time into the current names of months. In regions toward Uresia’s middle, where the vernia are sighted most frequently, there are some calendars based on their


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The nearest thing to a universal Uresian calendar is the most exact (and arcane) one: the Nonathorian calendar of Sindra, popular across the grave with merchant houses and others concerned with port-to-port precision unadulterated by the local color. Nonathorian Reckoning is also magical reckoning, incorporating the flow of significant forces and predictable omens (including the Sindran zodiac, associated vernia, and runic dominance), making it the preferred calendar of most wizards. Ordinary folk, without such special needs, ignore it (understandably). In Nonathor’s calendar, the year is divided into seasonal hundreds and 52 named weeks, each with its own fable about a foolish mage. Their names are drawn from the magical folklore (and in many cases true but disputed histories) of every Uresian land of Nonathor’s time. One week per year, rotating through the final weeks of each season, is “long week” to maintain precision (8-day weeks, except in “summer years,” when the last week of summer is 9 days). Formally speaking, Nonathor’s calendar has no “months” at all, but each season is said to pass through three turns that approximate them. Dates in this system are usually by the week (“born on the 5th day of Baracet”), but the merchant houses number by the season (“shipment received on the 89th morning of the Autumn Hundred”).





an artificial island. A floating city of sport and revelry, the flotilla forms on the eve of the summer solstice, as a “neutral ground” where rival pirates can let their hair (or fur) down. It hosts a “Sailors’ Olympics,” the Elu Great Contest where mariners compete for honor of ship or species in events including knife fights, cannon loading, and rigging duels (sword fights fought “to the deck” instead of to the death). There’s a disaster or tragedy of some kind every year, but the event is too popular, and too spectacular, to die. The truce has broken several times, for example, and there’s always at least one fire. Last year, a high wind set ablaze the sails of 30 vessels, and hundreds of hands were lost in the mad rush to break the surviving ships out of harm’s way. The Civilized Towns: Longport and Thorny Cove each grew from the kind of rowdy pirate towns that dot the coasts of many Elu shores, but with growth came a kind of forced maturity. Older seamen took brides and settled, temples sprouted, farms spread, and a bustling mercantile economy began attracting citizens of all kinds to the chilly pirate frontier, including those eager to develop the untapped resources of the larger islands. Today, these city-states are still rowdy and dangerous, but also ruled and governed, becoming civilized by inches.

Slumbercats: Slumbercats dance, and flute, and spin. That’s all they do. They look like the ghosts of chubby housecats, translucent, light-footed and beatific, with reed-pipes and an airy, aloof manner. They “attack” both individually (lone slumbercats are as large as a child) and in large choruses (typically of smaller specimens), fluting and dancing with powerful drowsy sleep-magic. They’ll make unsuspecting victims smile, and giggle, and nap … and they do it most often in the most dangerous, isolated corners of wilderness and catacomb, where those who sleep become food for other beasts. The motives of the slumbercats are unknown, but there are many folksongs providing (conflicting) theories. Rain-Sprites: The painted sails found on many caravels are made from ghost flax to attract the attention of wind-sprites: spirits (the ghosts of dead winds, some say) who manifest as good, fresh breezes to sail by. There are, however, less benign spirits on the breeze, and with poor sails, bad luck, or a sailtender in his cups, the rain-sprites (also called storm sprites) may arrive: mad and dangerous cousins of the friendly breeze, elementals of the storm. Their manner isn’t hostile at all; they’re more like gale-force children who can’t tell the difference between playful and lethal. But with no malice at all, they’ve sent many a sailor to kiss the Sea Dragon.

Inevitable as this may be, it stirs rumblings in the bones of the islands … literally. Three years ago, small tremors and an avalanche near Longport heralded the reawakening of the nearby volcano. Priests and sorcerers conferred and concurred: the spirit of Elu flows from dead gods of rebellion, thievery, and wanderlust. Dead or dreaming they may be, but they dislike governors and laws and peaceable ex-buccaneer florists. Pirate kings in nearby cities are now looking on Thorny Cove and Longport as prizes to be conquered, inspired by dreams bubbling up from beneath the soil and sea. Dirty Money: The Elu city-states seldom bother striking coin, but Lord Fhario experimented with it a few years ago, pleased by the idea of seeing his own rakish countenance stamped on cold cash. The coins he commissioned – oversized $$20 silver pieces – were immediately taboo among merchants who didn’t want to seem chummy with a pirate-friendly harbor. This taboo doomed the “dragon coins,” and they didn’t travel well. To this day, paying in Fhario’s silver (his profile adorns each one, with a cheesecake Cat-girl shaking her tail on the flip side) marks you as a shady character. Pirates trade the coin of every kingdom in a very casual way, and also trade with gambling strike-tokens (tiny, crude counters of silver) as if they were regular money. Legendary Islands: Despite regular shipping traffic (legal and otherwise) there are still large expanses of the Elu Islands for which there are no adequate charts, and sailors’ legends about the islands are colorful: abandoned cities of gemstone, an island that’s really the giant egg of a Rukh, an island where the beaches are littered with emeralds (and with the bones of men who dared to walk ashore to claim them) and doubtful wonders of that nature. Landlubbers mock the rumors as specters of alcoholic stupor, but some of them are true.


Four Spirits Who Didn’t Mean To Kill You, But There You Are Dead

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Sins: The spirits known simply as Sins have confounded classification for centuries. Some insist they’re ghosts, others assume they must be demons, or some kind of conceptual elemental (see page 66). Whatever their origin, the Sins are emotional ergovores, feeding on thrills. Despite some lore, they don’t “embody” things like lust or greed or murder, they just like their chosen “sin” a lot, and have powers to release the inhibitions of men. They’re sometimes deadly, but they don’t get their own hands dirty. They just encourage you to. Their role as occasional scapegoat is inevitable … Harrows: The Harrows are a family of terror-loving ghosts limited (mainly) to Yem, and the nearby shores of Sindra and Orgalt. Encounters with a Harrow aren’t some half-hour chase into darkness … they creep into a victim’s life gradually, over weeks and months, and at first they simply hound you a bit, making themselves seen (nobody else can see them), using subtle illusions to mislead (they aren’t “powerful” in any usual sense) and disconcert. The escalation of fear is more about the cumulative sense of powerlessness they inspire. If it were up to them, you’d live forever, miserable … but their illusions have led many to accidental death, and many more to suicide.





Helt, particularly northern Helt, is known for a stubbornly independent spirit, and a pride that puts even Temphisians to shame. “If you survive here,” the saying goes, “you’ve earned the right to live exactly as you please.” In remote fishing villages along frozen shores, the Beastmen do exactly that. Many men from other lands travel here to disappear; anyone willing to work hard will be accepted, without regard to fur, feathers, scales or skin.

Helt and Lochria We dismiss the Satyr as childish, morally deficient, and selfish. The first one’s sometimes true, the second unfair, and the latter a grave error. The Satyr is a creature of heart. They love as fiercely as they lust, and I have been startled, and humbled, at the depth of their devotion.

Helt is a dangerous land. Villages of waist-high talking ducks go rogue and plague the Dolma River as pirates, while Serpentman sorcerers work deviltry on unwary travelers. Wars are common, but seldom last long. Heltish Beastmen are playfully racist, engaging in arguments and brawls to prove once and for all which is superior: horns or claws? Wings or arms? Hooves or feet?

Satyrs want, and they’re well-known for how boldly they seek what they want … but they give in equal measure – or more. Their lands are poor in some ways, because they lack what men value as ‘ambition,’ but their lands are rich in the basic comforts of home, of love, of music and food and appreciation for what they have. And woebetide the bastard who tries to hurt someone they love.

The Minotaur Coast: The western slopes of the Drandai Mountains, and the foothills and meadows leading down to the rocky shore there, are the lands of the Tauroids – the Minotaur. There are over a quarter million of them, organized into tribes, clans, and bands of nomads. They farm the land and mine the hills, trading silver with the rest of Helt. They maintain fort towns along their southern border for trading, but they do not build cities. The Minotaur are the “gentle giants” of the Beastmen, even more so than the Ursoids (below). They heft a mean axe, though, and can out-stubborn their weight in Dwarves. When war is a necessity, a clan of 200 axe-wielding Minotaur is often the last sight an enemy will ever see.

� Handersson’s Surveys At War’s End, Second Fragment Climate: Cold, rainy, icy, snowy, wet Society: Helt is a collection of independent but (usually) friendly countries, organized along racial lines (the realm of the Cat King, the land of the Minotaur Clans, the foggy marshes of the Lizard Lord, etc). The dominant races are all Hramath (“Beastmen”) varieties, including many rare elsewhere. Lochria is a large but poor principality dominated by the Satyrs, with an important Centaur minority. The Satyr Prince rules from Lochria’s only real city, Coatestown.

The Gedrian Forests: Most of Helt’s Ursoids, or Bear People, dwell in the forested hills of Gedria, northwest of Lake Rund. The Bears answer to a single King, Goor Ironfur, and they’re even more inclined to rural life than the Minotaur. They do build fine castles, though, and practice several forms of magic. Bears are renowned for their pacifistic lifestyle, easygoing nature, and strong loyalty to both blood relatives and “extended family” – even including non-Bears. Many are surprisingly quick and agile, and travelers from across Uresia travel to the Gedrian Hills to learn “Bear-Fu” or listen to the haunting melodies of the bear flute chorus.

Language: Heltish is spoken throughout these countries, but there are many dialects (the Lochrian version has a distinctly lyrical quality; it’s well-suited for high-flown romantic poesy). Neither Helt nor Lochria favor the standard runes (page 7); Heltish writing is an old body of glyphs faintly suggesting (and probably evolved from) claw-marks. Currency: Commons ($$1), Shillings ($$10) and Stone ($$100). Cities (Helt): Vasalt; Foxgravel; Kahlstone; Truma; Jabroch; Pelea. (Lochria): Coatestown Helt is the homeland of those races built of both men and beast, from the feline Creesh to the dog-headed Adlet (or “Kobolds”). Heltish society is a chaotic menagerie that Human scholars regard with shocked confusion. Humankind calls them all Beastmen, with no offense intended, but those sensitive to the connotations of “beastliness” often take it, anyway. They call themselves the Hramath. There is no unified form of Heltish government; each species (except the Satyrs and Aracor, who live everywhere) form small clusters of kingdoms, principalities, city-states and collectives, as it suits them. There are dozens of these (a few of which are touched on below). The Heltish “nations” share a language, a trader’s league (the Vasalt Company), and several common concerns, but not a leader.


The Creesh: Only the Satyrs are more numerous, and no race is more varied than the Creesh, the cat people. Some are covered in fur, with the unmistakable features of tigers, lions, Siamese, cheetahs, panthers, tabbies, and others. Some are less bestial, blending feline qualities with more Human or Elvish features. Only the distinctive ears and expressive tails are universal. While some Creesh communities are purely of a single type (the Gehm-Kholar monastery, West of Kahlstone, is exclusively leonine), most are mixed. Ordinary, non-Humanoid talking cats are also a common element in Creesh society. The stereotypical Creesh is smart, proud, and a little vain. Individuals vary, but most Creesh take delight in the racial reputation, even if they contradict it. Adlet: The wool and grain produced in southern Helt are the principal industries of the canoids – those who Humans call “Kobolds.” They call themselves the Adlet,

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the dog men, and they’re nearly as varied as the Creesh, with sub-races resembling any canine from jackal to sheepdog. Despite inevitable Human stereotypes, they have no particular animosity towards Creesh. The Adlet vary in height from the taller end of Human norms down to just under three feet tall. A typical Adlet (if there is such a thing) is just an inch or two shorter than a typical Human. They’re earthy, humble, spiritual people who chase their own tails. Avians: The Aracor are the bird-people. Like most beast-folk, they’re Humanoid, with bestial faces. Most are covered from head to talon with feathers, but only half of them have wings. Avian communities are less focused on a single Heltish region than most. Just as many prefer the forest as prefer mountains; just as many prefer the coast as prefer inlands. Most of Aracor society is very family-oriented. Small clans called “flights” are as complex as avian politics get. Their reputation is that of a no-nonsense – even humorless – people, but that may be an unfair reaction to their striking visages: whether owl-like or eagle-like or sparrowlike, their eyes are piercing and their beaks are fearsome.

Coatestown: The Lochrian capital was, until recently, what anyone might expect from a port city built by Satyrs: a place devoted as passionately to the pursuit of pleasure as the pursuit of commerce. Despite Lochria’s relative insignificance in large-scale trade, it had one prosperous port’s worth of potential, and Coatestown filled that role. It is a city of wine and music and stories, and what Satyrs insist was romance. The high Lochrian mountains are riddled with the caves of dragons, however. Most sleep for decades without stirring, waking only to devour a centaur or bear or two, and then sleep again. Normally, Heltish dragons are a hazard only to those foolish enough to venture directly into their lair. In the winter of 1373, though, an unexpected earthquake hit the southern reaches of Lochria, and four dozen dragons found their beauty sleep disturbed. They stretched their wings, yawned, and took flight, hungry and upset. A band of heroic Centaurs defeated seven of the beasts as they cut a swath of angry destruction down through the foothills. But while seven dragons down was a miracle, it was still too little, and the flight descended on Coatestown in the midst of a blizzard. Fire spouted in snowy darkness, and the dragons slaughtered hundreds, nesting in the streets and parks, and in the rubble they’d created. They demanded tribute and food from the survivors, and took flight to herd would-be refugees back into the city. Very few managed to escape.

The Peninsula of Rare Beasts: There are isolated Heltish communities, here (even entire small kingdoms) populated by man-beast hybrids seldom seen beyond Heltish lands. Sphinxes live high in the mountains, Rhinomen build forts along the northeast shores, etc. Tall Tails and Shaggy Dog Jokes: The city of Vasalt, on the southern edge of Lake Rund, is the “Heltish Jewel,” the city where no race dominates, built on the obvious ruins of a colossal pre-Skyfall city. In the shadow of ancient statues of Beastmen gods, the Heltish Lie-Crafters gather to tell outrageous falsehoods for the amusement of listeners, and for the title of Supreme Trickster. Storytelling is the most celebrated skill in Helt, and the competition is continuous. The Supreme Trickster sits in a shaded place of honor, showered with food, attention, and challenges. Anyone may compete, and listeners vote by casting smooth stones onto a large iron scale. No one has held the title for more than a week in living memory, except for Gundel Horad, an Owlman from the Minotaur Coast, who, seventy years ago, beat 600 challengers with tales told visually, simply by posing his wings. At least, that’s what some of the tale-tellers claim; there’s no real proof Gundel ever existed.


They conversed with one another in “dragon song,” hissing screams that echoed in the harbor. “Let’s stay for a while,” the song said, “let’s be sated, and worshiped, and have fun killing small things.” Outsiders arrived to challenge the dragons, and more arrived as opportunists, eager to loot or profit from misery. The dragons killed them all without prejudice, and lost very few of their own number. They occupied the city for a full year, before finally taking wing and returning to their caves. Now, Coatestown is hesitating, hovering over the line between recovery and confession of defeat. The city’s spirit is damaged, and trade along the coast has been diffused among other, smaller ports. One of them may soon rise to take Coatestown’s place, leaving the old port to die slowly of shock. In the meantime, the city is a stew of potential, and of wounds in need of healing. Many of the citizens are crying for vengeance as the only way to set things right. Someone must be sent to the caves of the dragons, to let them know once and for all that Coatestown is still alive.

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At its height, the Koval Empire included modern Birah, the major ports of Boru, the eastern edge of Temphis, and every small island within two days’ sail. The first emperors built Koval from a slurry of inspired leadership, clever management of valuable resources, and military might. It was an era of corruption and cruelty, driven by the madness of many of the rulers.

Koval It has become fashionable to disparage Koval, but I can’t help but notice that every prince born to the Rindenland must be named in Kovalese, because our tongue is regal. I can’t help but notice that every courtyard in Temphis shelters imitations of Kovali statuary, because the image of an emperor or empress – even a mad one – is more inspiring than some duke or his bastard brothers. As we struggle to become a new and better Koval, it seems our conquerors lurch toward precisely the same goal.

Mercifully, those days are gone. The Koval fleets and armies are still the largest in Uresia, but the days of the mighty empire – and the horrors it brought to the world – are in the past. What is left is a vast kingdom trying to repair its reputation, lest it collapse into poverty (or worse, resist poverty by resorting to violent expansion).

� “The Lake’s Reflections,” Prince Vero Molandi

After the collapse of broad Imperial rule in 1352, Koval avoided further damage by executing their mad Empress, burning her to ashes, and adopting a traditional monarchy, led by a popular royal family. This had the desired effect: it calmed both the distressed and war-weary populace and the kingdoms abroad, who had been very near the point where only Koval’s extinction would satisfy them.

Climate: Temperate/Warm Society: A single large kingdom ruled by His Majesty, King Molandi II. Humans dominate, but there’s a sizeable Elf minority. Languages: Kovalese (Kovali) is the language of modern Koval and of the former Empire (Kovalis). Some traditions (mostly Kovali) hold that Kovalese is the mother tongue from which all Human languages split and devolved in the Skyfall. In the eastern and northern territories, there are several “ethnic” languages held over from early Imperial conquests.

The new royal family has ruled for nearly thirty years without dire incident, and Koval works to regain its former respect and admiration, if not its dominance. Even in decline, Koval is the largest of the kingdoms of Uresia, and the most urbanized. Every point west and most points north of Drova Nor are well-settled land, a network of over 200 sizeable towns, nine cities, and countless villages.

Currency: Gresha ($$1), Lasqua ($$10), and Domina ($$100).

East of Centala: Beyond the urban tangles of mainstream Koval, into the hills and mountains, the cultures of old Edar and Celembria (two kingdoms absorbed in centuries past, now Kovali provinces) still leave their mark, and the country is much sparser and more rural. The Celembrian battlefields are where Koval lost Birah entirely (see page 8).

Cities: Drova Nor; Stokai; Celis Zora; Natra; Reva; Nivari; Centala; Lemna; Kle Vosta Some villains are obvious about it. An overtly wicked woman – for example – may be tall, sharply dressed, and carry herself with a haughty demeanor. She may laugh in a high pitch, with zeal. In Koval, it’s not unheard-of to be handed a fresh apple pie by a woman uncomfortable in her apron, stooping to appear shorter, and barely suppressing that same cackle. It’s not a trick; the pie is probably safe, maybe even tasty. Koval is a land of villains, trying to quit.

The eastern countryside feels a lot more like Rinden or Dreed than the rest of Koval. There are no twisted citadels being rededicated as museums, and no magical superweapons being dismantled for spare parts ... just roads and streams and chimney-smoke and blue skies. If Koval

Great Gravulus Koval has two huge lakes and countless smaller ones, but when the Kovali speak of “the lake,” they mean only one: Gravulus, largest of them all, placid backdrop to three of Koval’s great cities: Stokai, Kle Vosta, and the royal (formerly Imperial) seat, Drova Nor. Gravulus was the heart of the Empire, and remains the heart of the kingdom. On the lake itself, there are few places where the shore isn’t occupied with tradingtowns, fishing villages, or the old Imperial watchtowers. Traffic between the lake-cities is as robust as any sea-trade, and more to the point (for some) it is purely Kovali, untouched by the foreign rabble trading on the docks at Lemna, or Celis Zora, or Nivari. Those who live on Lake Gravulus live, entirely, in Koval.


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Gravulus Kovali consider themselves a cut above their countrymen, and will put the many rivalries of their cities and governors aside for fellow “citizens on the clear water.” They also share a noticeable dialect, the “Imperial” accent. In other parts of Koval, affecting the speech of the Lake Country is an easy way to put on airs, or poke fun at the starchiness of court. The food, music, and colorful sorceries of the lake recieve fonder, less satiric imitation throughout Koval. Gravulus features a handful of islands, the secondlargest of which supports some fishing villages. The smaller ones are rumored to harbor thieves, runaways, and a remnant of the Cult of the Empress (a religion banned by Molandi law, but, in practice, simply ignored). The largest of the islands (the Isle of Krytus) is the site of a royal retreat, and a summer tournament.





is to be saved from its past, salvation will likely begin here, with the people Koval conquered, but never really converted. Population is on the rise here, especially in the southern counties of Edar. Many Kovali are migrating here in hopes that the clear air and change of scenery will put them in touch with a better way of life. The results have been mixed; it’s hard for some of the families here to extend their traditional hospitality to those who treated them so miserably for generations, and a career as a mad wizard’s crony does little to prepare you for a new life milking cows. Barbarians! Many clan-folk dwell at the northernmost extent of the Kovali Eastlands, beyond the rocky Celembrian hills and high into the mountains east of Duskan Lake. Occupying a wilderness too remote to interest Koval and too barren to mean much to Birah, these clans are virtually unknown. They trade and war only amongst themselves, and regard soft civilized men with a mixture of mistrust and smiling contempt. They speak their own tongues, worship their own gods, and keep their own secrets. Even in its modern “enlightened” mode, the Kovali court refuses to acknowledge the clans, and blithely claims their lands as part of Koval. On most Kovali maps, the barbarian uplands are labeled as “the Mountain Extents of the Far Princes” or (on one oft-duplicated tapestry) “the Uplands of Mong.” Most Birah maps are copies of Kovali ones, and so the lie quietly spreads. Every few years, some noble sends a tax collector to see why the “Far Princes” or the “Mongites” aren’t ponying up with silver or soldiers, which means that every few years, there’s a new post vacant for a tax collector in the outpost on Duskan Lake.

remain wilderness for centuries to come, and Uresia’s many “barbarian” clans and tribes (whether Human, Goblin, Mushroom Troll or something else) will continue to live free from “civilized” influence, even on islands that see themselves as the zenith of Uresian civilization. Talarian Alchemy: In very recent years, a kind of adventuring alchemy is evolving in the form of the Talarians, the “running alchemists.” Talarians – all of whom are presently in their teens or early twenties – go adventuring covered in bandoliers of bottles, pouches, parchment envelopes and eggshells, whipping up simple effects directly from their person, applying fire as needed from the tip of an enchanted staff they call the Keryx Royal (used also for fighting and fire-sports). The Talarian movement is as young as most Talarians, who’ve already gained quite a reputation in the delver community for their party-hard style of adventuring and open dismissal of the formal pretensions of more serious potion-craft. Originating in post-war Koval, the Talarians have gained converts from apprentice alchemists as far away as Helt. There are Talarian-run hostels in Koval, Boru, Temphis and the Rindenland. Empty Graves: As more sorcerers begin to accept the Sindrans’ theory that Uresia is built on the ruins of Heaven, Koval is grasping the opportunity to appeal for sympathy. Yem is gloomy because it’s built on death, Koval sorcerers reason, and thus Koval was a greedy, corrupt superpower because it’s built on the graves of a veritable pantheon of conquest, madness, and abuse-the-servants gods. They even went so far as to name them, write histories about them, and begin holding annual “funeral parades” beseeching the ghosts to lie down, rest, and let Koval be the sweet, loveable kingdom of fairytale joy it’s destined to be. Eager for a new holiday, thousands attend and cheer, but nobody really believes.

Baked Kovali Skullapples: Even the Steam is Nutritious

This situation isn’t unique or even unusual in heaven’s grave. Every realm has its own “Mongite Barbarians,” though not always so colorfully misnamed. Much of Uresia is wilderness, most official maps are half-fabrication, and for the last several centuries, much of Uresia’s population growth has been edging (glacially) toward the market towns. So, the wilderness is likely to


While Koval almost certainly has some ruined elements of heaven beneath it, and the Primal One itself claims the northeast end of the island, no clear evidence of active god-ghosts has been found. Many secretly suspect the horrible truth: Koval was the way it was because it was run by powerhungry, immoral villains – and its long road to redemption will depend on a comparable record of charity, honesty and fairness. There seems to be no scapegoat.

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Laöch’s trains create the traveler’s first (and only, if the weather is bad and the engineer drunk) impression of Laöch. The second impression comes from the mountains they connect. The sooty, greasy windows of a Dwarf passenger car affords a spectacular view of Uresia’s most dramatic vertical slopes, each covered by banks of snow, thick evergreen woods, or Dwarvish towns. The above-ground portions of Blind Owl City are on such a steep incline that it’s possible in some places for a clumsy walker to fall several blocks.

Laöch Gavril looked upon the glowering moon, and his warriors became one with smoke and darkness. And Gavril said to his druzhina: “Brothers! Better it is to be hewn from our bones, than be slaves! So let us ride the night, and drive our foemen to their burning ships! I wish to break my axe within their beards, darken the foam with their blood, lay down, and drink of the sea in my helm. We are free Dwarves, or we are dead, ere the dawn!”

The High King, Verin Bellhammer IV, rules Laöch. Beneath him are a tangled lattice of barons, dukes, princes and clan elders. Dwarves like to be left alone to complete their work, and hold “respect for boundaries” as a high ideal. This, combined with their passion for ornate and functional craftwork, makes for a government that works at the local level, and looks good at the higher ones. Dwarves like it that way. Clan elders make most of the decisions; the King’s primary duty is to make sure the army stands, and that the rail barons’ squabbles aren’t interrupting commerce.

� The Song of Gavril (Epic of the final wars between Laöch and Orgalt, from a popular Rinden version) Climate: Bitter Cold, Damp Society: A unified feudal state, ruled by His Majesty, High King Verin Bellhammer IV. Dwarves dominate. Language: Laöchrian is a form of Galtish – the ancient Dwarvish “language of the mountain.” It’s compatible with most kinds of Orgaltish (page 23) if nobody speaks too quickly – and Dwarves seldom do. Currency: Rubla ($$1), Grivna ($$10), Kuna ($$100) and Strodanya ($$1,000).

The Charcoal Kings: Most Laöchrian soldiers are sturdy infantry – chainmail-suited, wielding battleaxes and wicked stone picks with arms strengthened by long hours working masonry or digging tunnels. Such warriors are fearsome enough, and most Dwarf soldiers are the equals of any Troll in battle. Even more impressive are the High King’s elite forces of enchanted warriors: the Rego Corunda, or “Charcoal Kings.”

Cities: Blind Owl City; Dingrade; Driev; Nauzen; Becker’s Forge; Valt; Manner Rook; Anvil The ancient Dwarves were railroad builders; the ancestral homelands were united and strengthened by carefully engineered networks of iron, wood, and polished brass. The twisted ruins of the old railways rest among weeds and snowdrifts in the Troll Lands, now, but in 1261, the Bongdurum Clan of Becker’s Forge decided the time was right to revive the old art. It was a prosperous time, and the sentiment flared into a rail-building frenzy that transformed the face of Laöchrian travel. Within twelve years, a handful of competing “rail barons” had restored what was lost, and the Dwarves were once again shipping goods by the trainload, and pampering themselves in luxury overland passages.

The Original Rego Corunda Were The First Kings of Laöch to Acknowledge the High King

Dwarvish trains are squat, brassy, ornate and loud. They belch thick clouds of smoke and rattle and scream along at terrific speeds (see page 23). Dwarves love them, and engine drivers are often regarded as heroes – maniacal, laughing heroes with bellowing voices, sooty faces and a dangerous addiction to speed.


Much of Laöchrian magic is fire- and heat-oriented. The Charcoal Kings, in addition to being masters of their huge axes, are practitioners of an ancient sorcerous discipline of smoke. The Kings smear their faces with runes and sigils of soot, and bathe in fire. When they are sufficiently trained, they can become smoke, marching from mountaintop to mountaintop along the slow Laöchrian breezes, and passing into high castles at will.

The New Capital: King Bellhammer adopted Blind Owl City as Laöch’s capital recently, in 1332. The former seat was the smaller, more sedate city of Dingrade, near the southern end of the coast. Bellhammer wanted his throne higher in the mountains, and closer to the excitement at the heart of

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his realm. Blind Owl City is precisely that – the largest and busiest place in Laöch – and more than two-thirds of it is underground.

Orgalt “The head of any disloyal Dwarf, cut from his body by my hand, is a gift to the clans; it is meat and mead to them. They have loved him, and they will hate me. But their flesh is the soil from which the oak must rise. They fail to see their insignificance, and they fail to see their great importance. I see all, for I am King. This Dwarf’s death is good. Let us celebrate it, and be anointed while his blood spills warm.”

Like many Dwarf cities, Blind Owl (Ganrodor – from the Dwarvish word for the white cave owl) is built both on and in the mountain slopes. A visitor can stroll along the sunny cobbles of Coalmarket Street, then take a turn into a shady tunnel mouth that leads to Beggar’s Alley – a tunnel (one of hundreds) lined with houses, shops and stalls, just like an outdoor avenue. The tunnel streets are lit by the abundant spore-balls that drift on the warm currents of air in the caves. Since these phosphorescent oddities are free-floating, some streets are dimmer or brighter by the whim of the breezes. The spores are too fragile to trap; nets slung from the tunnel ceilings serve only to slow their migration.

� Thorvald III, at the execution of Grymlayd Godri Climate: Icy Society: Hundreds of clans owing fealty (and tax) to His Majesty, King Thorvald IV. Highly stratified, with a centuries-old tradition of large-scale slavery. Dwarves dominate (and are dominated) here.

The tunnels are warm, smoky, and noisy – conditions beloved by Dwarves. Consequently, most prosperous Dwarf towns spend more effort growing inward and downward than outward. At first glance, Blind Owl looks small to outsiders, but a stroll into the deep, crisscrossing undermountain lanes changes that. The Laöchrian Secret Tunnels: The rumor that the Dwarves have an elaborate tunnel highway connecting all of their underground settlements is only partly true. Mostly, the Dwarves prefer the very public rail system for cross-country travel (and the deep rifts and ravines in the Ironhead Mountains make a complete tunnel highway impractical). Some cities do have secret tunnels to nearby towns, however, known only to agents of the ruling family. Furthermore, deep mining has uncovered tunnels (some complete with twisted remnants of rail!) that the Laöch Dwarves never built – intact remnants of either some pre-Skyfall continent, or of the chunk of the heavens from which Laöch is made. Laöchrian Steam Locomotives: The Dwarves use alchemically created “coals” to deliver long-burning heat from a tiny lump of material, allowing for extended, highspeed runs through the mountains. When burning, the magic coals are vulnerable to shock, and can explode if hit hard enough … but to Dwarves who love the rails, the risks (and the high price of a ticket) are worth it. Locomotives begin very slowly, as the engines strain to get their great bulk in motion. Once underway, a train at full steam covers a terrifying 10-15 leagues per hour. If the engine driver is desperate, the welding is sound and the passengers hold tight, Dwarf-trains can be pushed to maximum speeds exceeding 50 knots (more than 20 leagues in a single hour). The trains are comfortable and luxurious at rest, but their pounding, jerking and rattling takes a heavy toll on passengers when in motion. Barring emergencies, trains usually travel for 4-6 total hours per day, with frequent stopovers for fresh air, solid ground and local scenery. The trains are rough on themselves, too; repairs are a constant effort, and the fuel-chambers must be scrubbed at least weekly to save the crew from suffocation. But the gains are still impressive: when charting travel times, assume a train devours a half-dozen “days by road” in a single day.


Language: Orgaltish, like Laöchrian (page 22) is a form of Galtish, the old language most people call “Dwarvish.” Thanks to violent clan divisions, a hard climate and mountainous country, Orgaltish dialects are often extreme. Currency: Cinders ($$1), Hammers ($$10), Kran ($$100) and Elders ($$1,000). Cities: Orgalt has many walled towns and other large settlements, but only one real city: Borindor Seven hundred years ago, Orgalt was beautiful and rich. It’s still beautiful – a sub-arctic island of high, but surprisingly gentle, mountain slopes, deep conifer woods, and elevated volcanic plateaus. Orgalt is a Dwarvish kingdom – the oldest in Uresia – and much of it is primitive. The Dwarves of Orgalt are “old school” Dwarves, making sturdy homes in the sides of hidden valleys, singing in smoky meadhalls, and carving stone. The grand palaces and elaborate tunnels are aging, now, because Orgalt’s wealth has faded. Most of Orgalt’s Dwarves think little of a world beyond their clan’s concerns, and “concerns” means “feuds” more often than not. Much of the backcountry is lawless, and many regions are very poor. Before the rise of Laöch, Orgalt was the center of Dwarvish civilization, and ships sailed the extra days and weeks to get there to trade for emeralds, silver, fine weapons, and tools. Laöch, though, had finer emeralds still, plentiful gold as well as silver, and easier access to and from the shipping lanes. It wasn’t long until the colonies grew into a kingdom that eclipsed the homeland, and Orgalt began to suffer. For a long time, the whole realm slid back into a dark age, with clan wars erupting in every valley – sparks fanned to flame by the loss of trade and compounded by a series of particularly deadly winters. Orgalt had become accustomed to luxury and splendor, and didn’t adjust well to lean pantries. When the weather shifted and the root crops began to grow again, the same blessed warmth cursed Orgalt by filling the northern seas with bergs and pack-ice loosed from the glacial shelves of the northern Troll Lands. Trade re-routed permanently to the ports of Laöch, leaving Orgalt to trade only locally and indirectly.

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anonymously, steering it toward a better course and – most of all – survive it, and flee to the mountains when the time came.

Iron Redemption Story Koval In the latter years of Brovor’s reign, the center of Koval’s darkest sorcery was in the city of Stokai, in a towering citadel called the Stokai Fist, devoted to the perfection of brutal, destructive magics at any cost.

But the war reached Stokai that night, in the form of commando raids by black-limned Emerald Knights, and battle-wizards emerging from the lake riding a firework-version of the banner of Sindra. It was not a decisive battle; Kovali forces triumphed before the dawn … but one of the losses was the Stokai Fist, collapsed, all within dead – or very, very trapped.

Not every project at the Stokai Fist was exactly as the Emperor demanded. In those days, the Empire was on shaky ground, the Wars had become a series of setbacks, and usurpers of every stripe were sharpening their blades. Increasingly, the Stokai circle were investigating escape routes, contingency plans, and fallback schemes for when the Koval Wars ended in Kovali humiliation.

Angela Angela Tycho never thought she’d fall in love with a golem, much less marry one. Her delving troupe – the Knights of the Easthills – spent years upholding an idealized vision of “Rinden-style” chivalry, squashing bandits and raiders and the occasional rampaging beast, and plundering a good dungeon where they could find it.

In the winter of 1349, as the battlefields calmed beneath the snowfall, four of Brovor’s most celebrated associates faked their own deaths, engineering a fire on the docks at Drova Nor, a fire that consumed a revel, sank seven boats, and killed nearly two hundred innocents.

While wintering in Stokai, they took on a challenge beyond their skills: the city’s own catacombs, riddled with deathtraps, summoned spirits, and troglodytes of every stripe from slumbercat to deathshadow. Most of Angela’s troupe were killed, a few were injured badly enough to inspire immediate retirement. Angela alone survived intact.

They were an unsavory quartet. There was Rastaban Rexus, Governor of Oria and Praxilus, enslaver of the Iliscians and (on paper) Lord of East Temphis. There was Punitor Adagio, the “wizard of torture,” who had calmly and methodically perfected no less than nine hundred spells dedicated to creating pain. There, too, was Xamentar Vortur, the master engineer responsible for Koval’s mightiest and most imposing citadels. But chief among them (and the mastermind of the plan) was Gragero Fyria, trusted captain of the Imperial Guard, and arguably the only living soul to whom the Emperor confessed his true feelings about the empire. One too many confessions, perhaps, drove Gragero to hatch his plan, and put the necessary gold in the purses at Stokai. Official history spoke of how each died in glorious service to the war effort. The Emperor would never suffer “burned to death on a party-boat” as suitable epitaph for his finest. They each took poison three nights later, in the highest chamber at the Stokai Fist. They discarded their mortal flesh, and awoke in freshly-oiled bodies of metal: “soul golems” engineered by sorcery. In these new forms, they would be presented to the Emperor as mute battle-champions, invincible and obedient. From there, the plan went, they could serve the war


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But in those catacombs they’d unearthed a new friend … a kindhearted (if slightly addled) metal construct who’d spun a fantastic tale of his creation: built for war, but longing for peace, he had been locked away as defective. He was once – he confessed to Angela in private – a man, a city guardsman who had no stomach for injustice or brutality, who’d been “preserved” in magical iron against his will. The two have become one of the most famous crimefighting and dungeon-delving duos in Koval, Dreed or Temphis (they’re currently exploring the latter). Like so many relics of the Koval Wars, Gragero Fyria (“Charlie Drumm” to his partner and spouse) is trying hard to be someone different than he was. But within his iron shell, he feels doomed. Fighting for justice alongside Angela reminds him, with every stomp and punch, how many wrongs he has left to undo … and of the current wrong he persists in doing. He has no idea if he’ll ever tell his wife the truth, or if she’ll find out … or if the day will come when Rastaban, Punitor and Xamentar will rise … or even if they’re already out in the world, waiting to meet him.





Orgalt society is strictly stratified but not complex: There are ordinary Dwarves, noble Dwarves, and nameless Dwarves (slaves). The law presumes that any Dwarf without proof of his name and heritage is a slave, making cross-country travel potentially hazardous, and keeping clan boundaries strong and paranoid. Many a slave folktale features a hapless noble, doomed to a life of slavery when happenstance robs him of his credentials, and adventure puts calluses on his hands (“proving” that he can’t possibly be high-born).

Five Things Laöch and Orgalt Do Differently Greetings: The Dwarves of Laöch greet with warm hugs, even when first introduced – something the Orgaltish aren’t comfortable with. In Orgalt, a proper greeting is a brief nod, shared without breaking eye contact.

Mad Schemes: Determined to regain trade-equality with the Volenwood and Laöch, Orgalt works hard to sponsor “questing scholars,” in the mold of Sindra’s Loreseekers. The questing scholars of Orgalt, however, are all Dwarves, and all owe fealty to Thorvald. It’s their solemn duty to learn all they can, and to bring that learning back home. They’re charged to seek out any secret, science, magic, or craft that might revitalize their homeland. They answer to the King, directly.

Kids These Days: Laöch has the beginnings of a real youth culture in the cities, with its own music, fashions, food and slang. There’s nothing of the sort in Orgalt, where harsher day-to-day conditions leave no room for grand-scale frivolity, even in the market towns. Runes & Religion: All Dwarves regard runes as powerfully magical and portentous, but only in Orgalt are they still regarded as holy, as a remnant of the great Dwarvish gods. Laöchrian rune-magic is more concerned with runes as reflecting the essences of nature – of deep and eternal truths (or at least, more eternal than the gods turned out to be).

The questing scholars are heroic souls devoted to their task, but their King is a hard Dwarf to please. Two scholars, Runi and Vungwalden, returned to the Iron Citadel after six years of wandering to deliver the message: give freedom to the slaves and they’ll work to prove themselves, and Orgalt will thrive. Thorvald had them executed and given a slave’s burial, sending waves of cold shock into the order. The message was clear enough, but the implications were sobering, and most questing scholars elected to put it out of their minds as if it were a bad dream. A small number quit and fled, and a few of those joined the Loreseekers. Clans of the Old Kings: Centuries past, in the days of prosperity, the Dwarves of Orgalt were too prosperous and proud to kneel to a single monarch, though several mighty Dwarves were called High King … some of them at the same time. Only the crush of poverty and disaster made a “whole” country of Orgalt possible, when the first of Thorvald’s line, Bagnir the Good, united warring clans and prevented them from starving each other to death in senseless extended feuds. The blood of the old Dwarf Kings still flows in a dozen or more surviving clans (both Orgaltish and Laöchrian), among them Clan Besinov (the master axe-makers), Clan Bori (the humble “carrier clan” known for critical sacrifices in war and times of starvation), Clan Gruentalyn (known for their black ales and merriment even on the darkest days), Clan Gunwar (known for their fierce loyalty and haunting clan ballads, they no longer dwell in Orgalt), Clan Nehamkin (the finest miners, also good beast-tamers) Clan Drumhammer (known lately for friction with the King, and more traditionally for their elaborate beard-braiding) and Clan Vungraven, known for ruthless greed and delightful wooden toys. East Orgalt: Orgalt civilization – such as it is – clusters around Borindor, and to the sheltered ports of the western inner coastline. To the north and (especially) to the east, the population thins to lawless wilderness, lost in the rough tangle of pinewoods, mountains, glacial rifts, and the ruins of past ages. Thorvald knows well that Dwarves go into that rugged country to escape his


Pickles: It’s a common joke in Laöch (with some truth behind it) that in Orgalt, they smoke-cure everything they can and pickle whatever they can’t smoke. Laöchrian Dwarves enjoy smoked foods, too (with more spice than the Orgaltish) but make big bearded icky-face at pickles.

Smokes: There are more than seventy different leaves, flowers, small mammals and evergreen twigs the Orgaltish incinerate for recreational inhalation, in communal smoke-bowls or hand-held pipes. In Laöch, they smoke mainly leaves (a dozen or so types, damp and fragrant) – usually in the form of fat Dwarvish stogies. grasp, but – for all his bluff and thunder – there’s really very little he can do about it. It is, truly, a land where no king’s hand may reach. The sparse inhabitants of East Orgalt include Dwarven, Goblin and Human barbarian tribes – probably not more than a few thousand souls, total, among them. There are also shunned sorcerers, including a black spire devoted to murderous arts that Sindra and even Yem will not condone. There are even some enclaves of peace and comfort, including the lone monastery of the Tentacle Monks of The Dark and Living Waters, a mystic and monastic order comprised of tentacular and pseudopodbearing creatures, living in ascetic isolation to quell their lustful cross-species urges.

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stated” though, is because it is poured, steadily, onto the battlefield. Rinden – a feudal state covering thousands of square leagues of green and buckling country – is a land of knightly adventure, courtly romance, and merry, lusty war.

Rinden Here’s health to our ale / Here’s cheer to our brethren Honor to our damsels / so blushing and humble

King Argot, like every monarch of the Rindenland before, keeps his royal hall warm with the heat of argument and debate. His dukes, barons, and a shocking number of princes are encouraged to compete for royal favor. The King loves strong leaders, brave knights, unfaithful duchesses, warm ale, and dragon hunts (he’s slain only two wyrms so far, but Rindenlanders agree that it’s because dragons go into hiding when he’s on the prowl).

Our banner’s un-burn-ed / His lordship’s exhorting Ye strong merry soldiers / to win him the day But first we will drink / and first we will dance And first we may rest on this sweet summer hay � From “Love To Our Neighbor,” a traditional Rinden tavern song

Grain, wool, and war form the three pillars of the Rinden economy, though most foreign lands also favor their well-made weapons and sturdy (if somewhat slow) sailing ships. Humans find Rinden comfortably traditional, and non-Humans find it almost excessively Human. The nobles tend toward the gruff and blustery; the wizards and princesses favor conical hats. The halls are decked in sconces and tapestries and the dragons are usually green.

Climate: Temperate Society: A complex feudal state ruled by His Majesty, King Argot I. Humans dominate. Languages: Tembrian is the language of Rinden (and, to an extent, many other Human lands). High Tembrian is a more complex, antique version favored by scholars and priests. Currency: Guilders ($$1), Chains (“Links,” $$10), Omens ($$100) and Sovereigns ($$1,000). Cities: New Hope; Queig Harbor; Isaacsburg; Brossendam; Angel’s Ford; Lukesport; Hevel; Reed Hill In 1325, when the Koval Empire went mad with lust for expansion, all eyes turned to the Rindenland for salvation, despite the large distance between the two lands. Rinden, then as now, was known as a land of knights and heroes, and as a kingdom of understated prosperity. Rinden answered the call with pleasure, and when the war was over, Rinden had even more friends, more trade, and more prosperity. One of the reasons their wealth is so “under-

Religious Divide: Rindenland nobles are faithful to the memory of the gods, and support a powerful clergy: the pontiff stands nearly equal to the King in influence. At the lower rungs, though, most farmers and simple folk look to the guidance of village witches and wandering hermit wizards, who take advantage of the enchanted nature of many of Rinden’s native grasses, flowers and roots. This tension is more vital to everyone’s happiness than any are likely to admit. More than any other people in Uresia, Rindenlanders thrive on taking sides. For example, according to the King’s laws, Rinden is an unpleasant land for thieves, rebels, and atheists. The law makes it clear, too, that these three are essentially synonymous. The

Emerald Armor A typical emerald armor resembles an ornate suit of plate built ten hands taller, ten hands deeper, and ten hands broader than might be expected. The plates shift and turn to allow the knight to board. In battle, the suit mimics the motions of its wearer, magnifying each stride and attack with superhuman strength, impressive speed, and extraordinary grace. When mounted in their suits, the knights use the same shields and swords they wield on foot – arms of great resilience, as ornate as the Armors themselves. An Emerald suit protects the wearer like exceptionally fine plate armor, and can (slowly) repair its own battle damage, healing torn metal in a blur of faint fiery runes. Each suit is handcrafted, personally decorated, and sometimes much more: suit capabilities can vary considerably. Some Armors are specially built for swimming (most are built for sinking), climbing, or even modest short-burst flight. Some have unusual attachments (rope winches, shoulder crossbows) and some are enchanted to withstand deadly heat or cold. During the Koval Wars, it became necessary – and typical – to enchant the suits with sigils to ward off psy-


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chic meddling, when the Kovali sorcerers began using mind-control spells to turn leading Emerald Knights against their companions. The finest and most powerful suits come from the Rindenland, where both the resources and the need for the battle machines are great. Prior to the Koval Wars, Emerald Knights adventured mostly from north Rinden, where they established the pride of Rinden knighthood in battle against foreign knights from Celar and Winnow (as well against one another, and against the monsters they were really built to battle). During the Koval Wars, there arose several respected emerald orders, which included both the finest Rinden knights and valorous foreign ones at well, who had served to fight back the expansion of the Empire. Throughout the years of the war, the honor of “second ceremony” – where an already-respected knight becomes an Emerald Knight – became one sought in every land where chivalry blooms, and emerald orders may now be found in most countries – even in Koval. Today (and since 1335) the most promising young pages are selected and groomed from squirehood as Emerald Knights, trained as children in the art of giant-armor warfare and monster-slaying.





peasants make a game of harboring such men in exchange for songs and stories from other lands, and thus a rogue can live happily in Rinden, if he’s a little bit of the jongleur and doesn’t mind sleeping on hay! Many criminals make a point of joining the Lyric Brotherhood (see below).

Tidy Maps, Savage Truth Uresia can look orderly, from a distance. In the parchment world of maps and treaties and trade agreements, every stone and stream is subject to a ruling lord – even if the His Lordship has never laid eyes on the stone or stream in question. It’s no great matter, after all, to declare that Prince So-andSo is ruler of everything from this river to that one because he won a battle near the latter and owns a castle overlooking the former. Borders drawn in neat vermilion ink provide a simple comfort to a comparably simple noble perspective.

The New Hope Faire: Twice per year, the city of New Hope hosts a huge faire, and the marketplace grows to consume every street and park. The tournaments at the harvest faire are the favorite of knights both Rinden and foreign. Even some Orgaltish warriors attend, traveling weeks by sea to kick up sawdust and revel in the clang of blades. Skilled pickpockets can gather enough money at each faire to live frugally till the next one, but public thieffloggings are a popular attraction, too, so it’s a risk. The Emerald Orders: Rinden is home to every flavor of knighthood imaginable, but it’s famous as the original home of the emerald orders – knights riding powerful suits of enchanted armor, each more than a stride taller than, and several times the strength of, its wearer. While Emerald Knights have become common in other parts of Uresia since the Koval Wars, this is still the home of the best of them, and Rinden armorers are masters of the art of emerald armor building. Since the magic armor is powered by magic emeralds found only in Dreed (Laöchrian and other emeralds can be substituted, but they’re smaller and burn out quickly), this gives the Rindenland a strong incentive to keep its wars internal, and be at peace with the world.

But the ritual of court exerts little power on those who don’t acknowledge it. When Prince So-and-So rides home with his knights, they huddle in their fortress, which huddles in its town, in the shadows of dark mountains and deep forests. Those shadows, and the wild world they conceal, defy dominion. In truth, the lords, reeves, soldiers, taxmen and so on know only a fraction of the lands they claim to have civilized. Much is still wilderness, or land “settled” by clans and tribes who pay only lip-service (or rude gestures, and/or a bit of tax) to those who rule the huddle. Only the wisest lords fully understand this.

Most Emerald Knights are more concerned with battling monsters and evildoers than with petty local wars, but when they do appear in on the common battlefield, they can dwarf all other concerns. Only the equestrian archers of Winnow consistently hold the field when facing them.

Whether the road out of town leads to “lawlessness” or “freedom” depends on your point of view. Most delvers prefer the word opportunity, and leave it at that. Either way, most of heaven’s grave has never been – and probably will never be - bound by neat vermilion ink, or the perfumed hand that applies it.

A Conspiracy of Song: Rinden is home to the Lyric Brotherhood, an old and respected guild of musicians, wandering taletellers, jugglers, mimes, and artistically minded magicians – any who live to perform. Most everyone assumes the Lyric Brotherhood is just what it looks like: a friendly order of artists. Most everyone is therefore half right. The brotherhood harbors a secret agenda, known only to initiates of the Seventh String – the highest (and secret) rank of guild membership. The “string” ranks are awarded by nomination, and only those of admirable skill and impeccable community standards are invited to the highest levels. As far as most guild members know, the highest is the Sixth. The Seventh String is working to compose a deity: Lyrica, gentle goddess of song, art, good cheer, and health. The elders of the brotherhood believe there’s enough free godly energy loose in the world that new deities are bound to rise eventually, guided by the needs and beliefs of mortals. So, they collaborate to promote faith in the goddess they most want. The lower strings are told tales of Lyrica as if she were a lost god, and that the order works to honor her memory. It’s a lie working hard to become true. Lyrica is a true collaboration – any member of the Seventh String is free to invent (“discover”) legends and songs to develop her nature. The circle maintains a consistency of theme in broad terms: the goddess is beautiful, kind, generous, fond of merriment, and prone


to bless artists with wealth, health, and gratifying sex lives. It’s not difficult to find guild members eager to believe, and many of her songs and legends emphasize her sensual qualities (she’s “the callipygian goddess” in the Rinden north). The guild has enemies, though, and its secret – though well guarded – leaks now and again. There are no surviving gods that can fairly be called “good” or “evil” and so if Lyrica ever springs into existence there will be considerable shift in the balance of godly power. Some believe that a dark god of some kind must then appear to provide appropriate rivalry. Some are not so sure, and others are just sure they don’t want any good or evil gods on Uresia, ever again. The Lyrican Lyre: Mages allied with the Lyric Brotherhood worked for years to perfect a set of enchanted lyres, made of red-stained wood and trimmed with lines of tasteful gold. The tone they produce is hauntingly beautiful and (so the story goes) divinely inspired by the touch of Lyrica herself. The story is a lie, but the magic of the lyre is genuine: it can hold audiences mesmerized in musical rapture. Any member of the Seventh String – or promising musicians they choose to favor – might be found carrying one. The Brotherhood has created nearly two dozen as of 1380.

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scholarly) and survive. As ridiculous as it seems now, it was a common sentiment. The common wisdom was (is, in some places) that rulers should be warlords, and that too much thinking spoils the process. King Voghard, as it happens, died at the age of 49 when he failed to understand the instructions on a potion prepared by his court alchemist. On the other hand, the mercurial (even childish) nature of many wizards does mean that Sindra’s process of government is colorful, to put it mildly.

Sindra If the legends tell true – and we have reason to accept them – then there were once gods so powerful as to name right and wrong by their commandment. And so this age beyond the Skyfall brings burden greater than the turning of the heavens or the breaking of the dawn, for man must consider wickedness and weal. Our right path is not obedience, but morality. On this must our magic be tempered, for our art extends our reach, broadens our vision, and lends might to our tread. If we are not moral, we are monstrous like the child-empires of old, in dog-like obedience to their deific masters.

The Thuriad: Sindran sport is competitive sorcery, emphasizing resourcefulness. In addition to duels of pure showmanship (where flashy illusions, noisy battle magic, and dramatic weather spells dominate), Sindra regulates the Thuriad, a sorcerer’s Great Contest, where wizards compete in the face of challenges devised by the ruling council. Every wizard must accept the same challenges as the others, but the nature of the sport varies each year. Past tasks have included: extinguishing a forest fire; crossing a deadly chasm; retrieving an orb of clear crystal from the bottom of a deep lake, and subduing an enraged bear. The council sits in judgment, awarding points for style, showmanship, originality, and efficiency (some win their events by using no magic at all, which the council regards as the ideal goal of a truly resourceful wizard).

� Mullanis Graff (Bread, Wine & Wizardry, 1357) Climate: Cold but otherwise mild Society: A federation of city-states governed by His Venerable Grace, Mullanis Graff, chief of the Sindran Council. Humans dominate. Language: Sindran is the most tone-sensitive tongue in Uresia, making it well suited to magical pursuits and very useful to the native Mushroom Trolls, who delight in its subtleties. Sindran wizards also speak in several magical tongues (see sidebar, page 36). Currency: Lorings ($$1), Kopan ($$10), Magi ($$100) and Rin ($$1,000). Cities: Ballicazar; Elendric; Avonir; Malbarion; Nehamkin; Sevenroad; Dunrundle; Hourgohne The Sindran landscape is a chaotic blend of swampland, buckling hill-country, and forests (both arboreal and fungal, with mushrooms as tall and sturdy as oaks). Magic seeps from the ground in invisible rivulets and streams, soaking the island with potentially hazardous enchantment. Little surprise that it’s a realm ruled by wizards.

Graff’s Granddaughter, Bailey, Pilot of the Gelvax Academy Ethereal Guard

In the country’s youth, neighboring kingdoms mocked Sindra as ridiculous and doomed. “Wizards,” they insisted, “serve rulers. They are not meant to be rulers.” King Voghard of Skalsa went so far as to insist that no worthy King could be literate (let alone


The Thuriad runs in three rounds. In the first two, competitors face the council’s challenges individually, with the top 10 performers allowed in the second round, and only the top five graduating to the third. In the third round, the five premier wizards face a single challenge together, and may work in concert, or competitively, as they choose (they’re still judged individually). One year, the final five were tasked with rescuing a cargo of 700 rare books from a burning, sinking ship surrounded by monsters. In another, they were asked to resolve an emotional family conflict damaging the royal court of Dreed! Last year’s winners worked together so well they formed a band of Loreseekers, currently delving into the mysteries of the Troll Lands.

The Capital: Ballicazar, Sindra’s capital, is a “model city” of broad avenues decorated with trees, painted houses, and dozens of competing centers of scholarship. There are few places on Uresia with as much collected magical wisdom in one place, and none so organized or safe. Fewer than a dozen apprentices die each year, split roughly between alchemical explosions and demonic

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assault (in some cases, “split roughly” is the literal cause of death).

vulnerable to having their skin stolen from where they’ve stashed it), the Feirag (brutish shark-skinned humanoids, with a lot of legends about what happens when you eat their still-warm heart), Funda and Loga (two ancient giant spiders … they aren’t concerned with anyone but each other, but entire villages have been destroyed in their unrelenting twospider war) and Summer Swine (pack predators, dangerous but delicious).

“Black” and “white” magic are equally welcome in Sindra, where most regard the distinction as artificial. Sindra’s laws are as strict as any involving murder and other unsavory practices, but any study or practice that crosses no such lines is encouraged, and the summoning of demons is a daily occurrence.

Naumgard – A Foreboding Prison: In the center of Sindra’s most dismal marsh, a broad castle of black stone stands on a pillar of rock erected by powerful sorcery. The spell was fiendish: it required so much power that it drained the enchantment from the swamp, probably forever, along with the powers of the self-sacrificing wizards who authored it. The result is a magically void region seven leagues across, and the base of Castle Naumgard – Sindra’s most infamous structure.

The Loreseekers: Sindran coffers sponsor this solemn order of scholarly knights, but the Loreseekers owe their ultimate loyalty to knowledge. Many are wizards, but not all. Each is a scholar and a master at arms, traveling the world working to assemble the truth from what pieces may be found. Many retire to one of Sindra’s hundreds of monasteries, to spend their declining years recording their exploits and sifting through what they have learned. Menagerie of the North: Owing to its dangerous riches in raw sorcerous energies, Sindra is bedeviled by monsters found nowhwere else, especially in the northern fungal wilderness. These include the Drastaki (jackal-like beasts who can shed their skin and look like young humans,

Naumgard was conceived as a monastery where powerful magic could be studied thoroughly without fear of dire consequence, but over the years it has come to serve a secondary function as a prison for wizards, beasts, and men that the Council want alive, but kept separated from magic. scandal in Nonathor’s life) he continued refining the original, and investigated the “thieves of days” he believed it revealed. The final drafts of his calendar – baroque diagrams crowded with annotations and silhouettes of sinister figures – tell of a race of demons who walk among us, and of the 8 days, 16 hours, 32 minutes, 48.5 seconds they steal from each season: the “dead festivals” of the year, in which life and matter locks in time and becomes a shadowy playground for creatures who become shadows themselves, going where they please, learning our secrets and plotting to unknown ends.

Where Does All the Time Go? There is a mystery nested in Nonathor’s calendar (see page 16). Nonathor Levanter, who lived in Sindra about 900 years ago, was the first scholar to downplay the usual business with sun, vernia and moon to instead extrapolate a calendar’s structure from magic numbers representing time, energy, and aesthetic perfection. Many of these numbers had their origins in his own (extensive) work as a sorcerer-historian. But what modern scholars and merchants call “the Nonathorian calendar” is more properly Nonathor’s Perceptual Calendar. The Perceptual is derived from his Precise Calendar, suppressed by his brethren in Ballicazar for many years following his disappearance (or death) in 514.

When Nonathor and his friends vanished on the 4th of Tala, 514, it was amid scandalous accusations regarding the romance between he and Mariamne (which he denied, even to his closest surviving friends), and equally-scandalous accusations regarding the theft of two great ensorcelled hourglasses from the Silver Regent of the Morundath Academy. Several of Nonathor’s calendar-drafts were recovered from his chambers, along with volumes of his notes. His brethren sealed all these in the vaults and, after a time, they were simply forgotten.

Nonathor’s methods led him to a conclusion his peers didn’t care for: that the Uresian year, in its perfect and healthy state, is exactly 400 days, with 100 days passing from equinox to solstice and back again. Nonathor believed Uresia’s year had become flawed due to external influences - external attacks, eating away fragments of time. This notion greatly amused the elder sorcerers, humorless as a rule, but positively jovial when it meant a chance to belittle a wizard of lesser rank. They made sport of Nonathor’s belief that Uresia’s year was being wounded somehow.

Recently, several sorcerers, eager to commemorate the achievements of their order, began perusing Nonathor’s documents, and found the forgotten “Precise” calendars. They are no longer secret, but they’re still unknown outside Ballicazar’s scholarly circles. The wizards are pondering setting some Loreseekers to the task of discovering the truth – if there is any – to Nonathor’s scribbled warnings that “the thieves of days walk among us, as men.”

Publicly, Nonathor amended his work, producing the Perceptual Calendar. Privately, and with the aid of a few friends (including Mariamne, the young wife of another sorcerer and the source of further


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criminals, and mad wizards. Over time, its reputation grew to ridiculous proportions, and it was centuries before civilized Uresia was populous enough to even consider colonizing it. The Dreed Republic finally did in 524, and seven years later, declared they had no claim on it, since their governors had been returned to them in tiny wooden casks – three per governor. The men and women of Dreed were proud, frankly, of their capacity for corruption, and were shocked that their colonists managed to get worse when exposed to Temphis. The civilized world gave a collective shudder, and turned away. The notion was in the air that Temphis should be tamed, but the Dreed colonists didn’t need governors to do it.

Temphis I’ve drained my bottle dry, too weary now to run These curses that I’d mocked, these dooms I had out-done Like crows upon my path, like black-beaks ‘pon the jack They’ve followed me to here, to take my laughter back � Come Home to Die, usually attributed to Bawdy Gail Wintermane, Centaur minstrel of Hote Climate: Cool/Temperate

Temphis did, eventually, decide they needed Dukes. Or at least, enough men grabbed enough land with enough force and started naming themselves “Duke” that it became the title of choice. The taming of the mad island began slowly, and kept everybody busy with war and supernatural adventure. When there got to be so many Dukes that it was troublesome, and when trade with the neighbors became a real possibility, things got very ugly before they got organized. When the smoke cleared, the Dukes had maintained most of their sovereignty by naming a Grand Duke to handle large-scale affairs and organize the fleet and national armies. He rules from Clawsport, in the Duchy of Keyroe.

Society: A collection of semi-independent duchies, all theoretically bound to Grand Duke Ropha IX. Mostly Humans, with notable Dwarf, Elf and Beastmen minorities. Language: Temphisian is a Tembrian language similar to Dreed (page 14), but eastern dialects have soaked up a lot of Kovalese. Currency: Guilders ($$1), Rundles ($$10), Omens ($$100) and Sovereigns ($$1,000) – descended from Dreed coinage, though struck locally by the Temphis dukes. Cities: Shadow River; Fogport; Sword Mountain; Mooncove; Skull Basin; Gryphon Rock; Clawsport; Blind Deacon; Hotestown In Temphis, even the most pristine forest wilderness carries an aura of danger and sin. There are flowers in the hills with aphrodisiac perfume, and coiling vines that can trap an ox and tear it in two. Each lagoon and glade has an air of inviting secrecy, but an equally pervasive air of dread. For centuries, civilization left Temphis alone. Ships sailed around it, leaving it as a haven for pirates, desperate

In time, Temphis’ central location was exploited to something like its full potential, and it became the hub of Uresian trade. Shadow River, on the north Temphis coast, is the middle of the world in some ways – a metropolitan stew of everything Uresia has to offer, all in the moving shadows of the vernia, the flying islands (see page 49). Meantime, the rest of Temphis is, despite the “civilized” power of the coastal cities, still very much a half-tamed land of mad magic and monsters, and the Temphisians would have it no other way. Skyfall plunged the ancient empires into its domain, the Sea Dragon has developed quite a taste for swimming above the ruined cities of man. If her plans come to be, one day Greentown will overlook a very short cliff into a risen Inner Sea, instead of a very high cliff over a forgotten forest ridge.

Greentown High above the wild hills of the Duchy of Naille, just west of Mount Gador, Greentown sits huddled in a narrow valley, so steep it’s almost a ravine. At the west end is the top of a waterfall, cascading 300 feet to the next shelf of rock down the mountain. The inhabitants of Greentown are all children, aged 8 to 15, and comprise a secret priesthood: a cult of the Sea Dragon.

Children live here until they reach 16, at which point they must leave to wander the world, furthering the plans of the Sea Dragon with strange quests. Many are powerful sorcerers; just as many are spies and warriors. Each serve in their own way, receiving inspiration in dreams, and maintaining the secrecy of their mutual home. In Greentown, they play games (handheld computer games are a favorite), study, and train. Their library of charts and scrolls are potentially the most valuable treasure on dry land, since they contain many clues leading to greater treasures beneath the waves.

They come from all over Uresia, each born with a special bond with the ancient serpent-goddess. After many visits to the cold deep in their dreams, the children become privy to great secrets of the seas … and learn of Greentown. The children travel here in secret as soon as they’re able. Greentown is far from the sea, but it isn’t meant to stay that way. Since the


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As far as most bounty hunters are concerned, Bjorgald is a Hunter of the Nameless – one of those coldhearted dastards who hunts down Orgalt’s running slaves exclusively. Those are, after all, the only bounties on which he ever collects, and always with corpses – he never brings his quarry alive.

One Hunter of the Nameless The wanted men of many kingdoms flee to Temphis, seeking shelter, of a kind, in the Grand Duchy’s own reputation as a land accursed. Temphis offers the comforts of civilized life nestled against mad hills no sane man would wander toward, so it’s a sweet trap for a killer (or escaped Orgaltish thrall) on the run.

Bjorgald has freed more than three hundred Nameless in this way … hunting two bounties at a time. The first, a nameless Dwarf in need of freedom. The second, a villainous Dwarf whose corpse will set the nameless free. Always careful to match what details are known – hair color, beard-braiding, manner of dress – and careful to adjust those near but not near enough. Bjorgald has become expert at fooling the Temphis agents of Thorvald.

Most Temphis bounty hunters have some sense of justice. Most ignore the Orgalt bounties, leaving them to brown and curl, unanswered, on the bounty-board. Most focus on criminals worth the hunt, not starving Dwarves seeking a new and honest life. Most bounty hunters arrive to the board at first light, to see each post nailed to wood and take action quickly, before some competitor can make greater haste to the target. Bjorgald Drumhammer strolls to the board in the dead of night, reading each post by the deep orange light of his pipe tobacco, scowling, scanning for Dwarves worth killing – and Dwarves without name. He makes his choices, and takes one of each.

So far, his brother and sister hunters haven’t noticed … those Dwarves he kills gain reputations as elusive marks, bounties no hunter can find. There have been some close calls: near-encounters with colleagues in smoky dens or desolate marshes, encounters he’d be unable to explain. Bjorgald knows that someday, his luck will run out: he’ll be caught by a fellow hunter, or one of his freed nameless will be found out. For that day, he has no real plans, except to hope those who discover him share his values. He’s not sure if he’d kill an innocent to protect his good works, but if it should come to that, he certainly knows how.

Bjorgald is a manhunter of consummate skill – stealthy, quick, strong and ruthless – and his sense of justice is stronger than most. He lives poorly, on the cheapest meat and mead, in the humblest clothes, with simple weapons he keeps oiled and sharp. Ducal Privilege: There are, depending on the wind, weather and wars of the day, something in the neighborhood of 150 duchies in Temphis, and just as many dukes and duchesses of note. Every year without fail, at least one dies from supernatural causes. Over the course of the past decade, the cause-of-death list includes: wizard attacks (three cases), ghost ingestion (the Duchess ingested the ghost, not the other way), spontaneous combustion, premeditated combustion, ungentle demonic affections, etheric brain disease contracted from dew, incidental mayhem from spiritual possession (two cases), and one incident where the Duke of Unwald turned into a seventyfoot serpent which then consumed a woodshrine, nine courtiers, two horses and a priest before diving into the sea (a borderline case, since the serpent may yet live). Skull Basin: The “hidden port” along the southern coast is the port of call for traders from Koval, and the pride of Duke Lederel, master of the Tanglewood, the forest of the banshees, one of the most treacherous regions in a treacherous land. For years, the Tanglewood – home to no more than a few hundred brave souls, then – was, like Temphis itself in the old days: a nominal, but unexplored, portion of the Duchy of Hote. Lederel’s grandfather was a heroic soldier in the Hote army, and requested that the region be given to him as his reward for a lifetime of exceptional service. The Duke was happy to be rid of it, and no one expected it would grow to be a powerful rival Duchy. Despite rumors of demonic pacts or a secret key to the forest mysteries, Lederel simply tamed the wood by force


of will and arms, over the 59 remaining years of his life. By the time Lederel II stood to take his father’s sword, Skull Basin was a town of five thousand, and even the wild hills deep within the wood had well-marked trails. Today, Skull Basin is a city three times that size, the fifth largest in Temphis. Lederel and his progeny didn’t exterminate the monsters and horrors of the banshee woods – they conquered them. There are entire villages, here, of werewolves, of spirits, of workaday murderous thugs. They all pay their taxes, though, and rulers across Uresia are beginning to consider Lederel’s duchy as a kind of model for future governmental perfection. A Monstrous Land: There’s a saying among the Dwarves: “Only Humans would have made Temphis a kingdom.” That’s probably true. While Uresia’s centermost island has much to offer anyone in terms of position and resources, it’s also a wild territory steeped to the gills in curses, monsters and spiteful spirits. Quietly (but not secretly) the non-Human kingdoms watch Temphis with eager curiosity, waiting for the Humans to finally explore so deeply into the mountains that something really bad pops out and eats everyone, eyeballs-first. Some parts of Temphis have fallen to supernatural disaster. The Duchy of Laments lay haunted and deserted; Crion Lake claims new lives each day; the Forever-Abandoned Road is inaccurately, but appropriately, named. Lederel’s success with the Tanglewood is an unusual ray of hope. It’s only a matter of time, some say, until Temphis once again belongs to the monsters.

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Volenwood (Anandriel)

Six Reasons the Gods May As Well Be Around Anyway

I have dined with the Elves in their courts, and they have led me down woodpaths that none but their kin could find. I have known the tenderness of their kisses and the deep cut of their swords. I have dreamed those dreams that visit only among them. But today, as an old man, I went to stand again in those places, and there was only the wild wood, ‘neath a silent crust of snow. I do not understand, and I despair.

The Harasthene Druids of Koval forbid men and women to dine together (or even within sight of each other), in order that “the most majestic secret” be preserved. In Celar, those of the Hirschjärta faith may “eat of no meat that hath been led to slaughter, neither greylamb nor beeves, neither meat of rocktrundle nor meat of smaldur, but only meat of a beast trapped or hunted.”

� Memoirs of the Mustard Gods, Vanity Archives Climate: Cool to cold, mild

Observant Red and Blue Slimes in the Kurastrian Communes of northern Sindra may not “squeak or trill” while the sun rests on the horizon (to rise or set), but most observe in silent reverence.

Society: Assorted kingdoms and principalities and others, living in peace (though not united). Almost entirely Elvish (and other fairy races). Language: Anandriel Elves (and others) speak Imuel, known also as “Fable” or just “Elvish.” See Birah, page 8.

Laöchrian Vocationalists (radnika) must shave their bodies entirely on the day before they marry, in an extended musical ceremony known as the obryad opredelennost (“rite of certainty”).

Currency: Travelers hear tales of “elf-coin” made of delicate crystal or engraved slices of roe deer antler, but if those tokens exist, the Elves don’t share them with outsiders. The port towns trade in Laöchrian coin (page 22).

Those of the Boradran faith (scattered across the north) forbid any form of sexual pleasure (though they make no prohibition on sex itself). Even those married or otherwise mated are cautioned to “take no delight from this grim and burdensome ritual.”

Cities: Archer’s Rest; Corinne Anandriel was named, some say, for a princess who lived before the Skyfall. Most Elves believe that before the gods went to war, the Elves were a unified race: an aristocratic people. The gods, they claim, were Elves who had achieved divinity. Legends say that Anandriel, a fair and a delicate princess, was to be accepted among the gods of beauty and love, and that the gods fought, ultimately, over who would have the honor of escorting her to her heavenly domain. The war raged, the sky fell, and the gods died.

Believers in the Path of the Iron Braid may “never upon thy soul taketh first choosing from the haul, unless thy choice be a potion.”

Every race has its own version of the Skyfall legend, but the Elvish tale is unique; it’s the only version that mentions no other race by name, noting only that the Elves of yore were adored by “those lesser.” The Elves’ fondness for the legend is rooted in the melancholy beneath the surface of all things Elvish. Their wines are light and sweet; their laughter inspires some Humans to song. Their forests are deep, primal, mysterious and inviting. Beneath the Elvish delicacy and love for beauty, however, lays a deep sadness resulting from the knowledge that beautiful and delicate things can easily die. Elves, ironically, are an exception, avoiding sickness and age for centuries before they expire, watching the world die, re-grow, and die again around them. The preservation of beauty is an Elvish ideal, a racial urge (apparently) to challenge their fear of the inevitable. This fear, and their determination to fight it, drives the creative powers of Uresia’s most beautiful people. The Elvish lands are predominantly forested hills, and both the canopy of trees and the undergrowth is thicker, greener, and seemingly more ancient than anywhere on


Uresia. The Volenwood – the name the Elves give to the entire “living forest” of their land – is vital and primordial, a universe of mist, vine, thorn, and leaf. It is, many suspect, the final resting place of many of the gods the Elves once adored: gods of growing things, gods of the hunt, gods of getting lost forever (and not minding). Elvish Cities: Most Elves grow weary of city life after a very short time. The exceptions, out of Anandriel’s millions of souls, are just numerous enough to fill two cities and a handful of scattered towns. Corinne, on the shores of Blizzard Lake, is their trading door with the Dwarves of Laöch. Despite a playful racist rivalry, the Elves and Dwarves have a strong mutual respect that they express with generations of peaceful borders, rather than explicit admission. Archer’s Rest, the larger of the two, is their seaport window to the rest of the world, the “face” presented to Humans and others abroad. A large, planned city of fountains, trees, temples, and broad avenues, it conveys the Elvish aesthetic despite being a contradiction to it. Kingdoms & Communities: Anandriel society baffles most visitors. There are, at least apparently, no peasants and no rulers. To most Humans, it seems as though the Elves are one, big, relatively humble aristocracy, which makes about as much sense to Humans as would a ship crewed entirely by officers. Beyond the cities, the truth is closer to the opposite extreme: most Elves live in modest homes (trees and bar-

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rows in the deep woods, simple villages in some areas), and live close to the soil like most peasants, but with an elegance that Human nobles have literally fallen over one another in an effort to imitate. Elves bring the qualities of noble glamour to their ordinary homes. But there are Elvish monarchs, and Elf princes and even Elf generals. They live down paths no Human can find without invitation, in palaces of thorns and roses, on terraces of wildflowers, by fountains of rainwater. The Elf kingdoms of the Volenwood are many, and they only occasionally squabble. Elves are typically too busy creating beauty, and pining over its loss, to stomach war. Borrowed Time? Something the Elves don’t like to discuss is the extent to which their typical lifespan has been increasing. Fragmentary records from centuries long past suggest that Elves are becoming less mortal with each generation. The oldest living Elf, a legendary sorceress in Corinne, is nearly seven centuries old … but she’s exceptional in the extreme. Most of the Elves of her time passed of old age somewhere around their 200th year, far sooner than elves of more recent centuries. Nobody knows why this is so, and nobody knows how long it’s been going on. Some Elves arrogantly conclude that they are – only naturally! – destined to become the new race of gods, and are inheriting the divinity of the lost pantheons. Others fear that their long lives are a cheat of some kind, the result of a forgotten spell or discovery, and that there must one day be a reckoning to return a natural balance. Some assume that, because they’re born closer to the flow of magic, they benefit inevitably from the changes of the post-Skyfall world without any “divinity” implied by the process. Most prefer to change the subject. They watch their Dwarf and Human friends decay and die, and try not to wonder: should we be dying alongside them?


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Bottled Divinity The Elves have a handful of dark secrets. Among them is a tiny kingdom called Delerain, deep in the high southern Volenwood hills. The secret is this: two gods presumed dead are less so. They are held, weak and powerless, by a miniature Elvish kingdom devoted entirely to the task, and to keeping it a secret. A small band of Elvish explorers, probing into some ruins in a valley between high hills, discovered the pair: semi-conscious, trapped, and suspended in a state of continual suffering. By their garb, the Elves identified them as the god and goddess of pain and fear, respectively … those known in Elf lore as Ondro and Beshek. They also realized – just in time – that the pair was held fast by magic, not mass; that the great stone arches pinning them to the ground were carved of blessed stone in the shapes of holy sigils. The Elves were horrified to note that, despite their deeply held beliefs, the deities had no observably Elvish characteristics. In fact, they looked like Creesh. That was 170 years ago. Faced with the choice of letting sleeping gods lie (and risking someone else finding them) or taking action, they elected to settle in to guard them, and founded a tiny kingdom in the process. The Elves of Delerain are loath to allow the beings to suffer forever, so they send their own kind around the world, questing for any spell, relic, or method that might be able to destroy them, instead. They acknowledge no other option; they regard Ondro and Beshek as evil. The Delerain Elves, like most men, have no yearning for a return to cosmic war between light and dark. Any travelers who happen upon the tiny kingdom are invited very forcefully to spend the rest of their lives there, unless they earn enough trust to become questing agents.





Winnow

Cracks in the Ground

Lovers and romantics, viol players and dancers, scheming statesmen, daring explorers, archers and swordsmen, mustaches and stockings, arched eyebrows and mischevious grins. I like these Savolese, but there is something curious behind their eyes.

Everywhere has deeps, but only Winnow has so many cracks. It’s become common: a quiet village, a quiet evening. Suddenly, the earth splits: orange light, screams, crunching timbers, and where once there was a village, now there’s a smoking fissure, with bits of broken village at the edges. Down inside the cracks, there are monsters, demons, singing slimes, a collaborating wizard or two, and one or two surviving villagers, hoping someone on the surface has rope. The pattern is too specific to be random; the corridors and chambers too regular to be natural, the demonic heritage of the survivors too consistently azure-haired to be coincidence. After a few days, the cracks seal themselves, and anyone inside is lost forever. King Slanc has dispatched a special guard, charged with the duty of denying everything, and silencing witnesses.

� Diplomatic Report to the Earl of Embermead, Rinden Climate: Temperate, Cool Society: A feudal kingdom ruled by His Majesty, King Slanc. Mostly Humans, but with a large (and to a great extent hidden) demon and demon-kin population. Language: The language most Rindenlanders call “Winnow” is properly Savolese, a sister-tongue to Tembrian, softer and quicker. A few elements of the language bear what seem to be kinship to Kovalese, implying some pre-Skyfall root the Winnowites are quick to dismiss as nonsense. Currency: Lira ($$1), Toltava ($$10), Augosi ($$100) and Imperia ($$1,000). Cities: Localona; Medra Outwardly, Winnow seems a friendly part of the Rindenland – an old kingdom of cool meadows and pleasant hills, famed for magnificent archery, dusky wine, and good tobacco. For centuries this was so, but that soil has nurtured a seed of woe that may soon erupt into a deadly wave of darkness. A hundred years ago Lady Ephemeran Ocada, wife of Duke “Thundercloud” Ocada, took up demonology as a hobby, and began summoning demon lovers into her boudoir while the Duke busied himself with archery drills. Her demons were very Human in appearance: handsome and dark and respectful. She never bothered learning the spell to banish them back to whence they came, and thus any demons who satisfied her (and they all did) were rewarded with freedom, left to wander among mortals and build a mortal life, or to return home, as they pleased. Many chose to stay, both manlike demons and womanlike demons, and became a part of Winnow communities with little trouble.

As Lady Ephemeran grew older, she recorded her methods and taught them to her daughters (many of whom were half Demon, with brilliant red or deep blue hair) and to other noblewomen, who were eager for distraction from the tedium of courtly life. Over a course of years, the private practices of the witches took hold. Winnow gained an impressively large population of demons and demon-kin, with only the descendants of Lady Ephemera’s “sewing circle” fully aware of it. Most of the demons were kind and honest – or at least no less so than typical Humans – but some, conjured by less careful methods than the Lady herself had used, were more insidious, cruel, and ambitious. The current King, Queen, and half of the royal court (the half that runs things) are demons or demonspawn of the less kindly sort, and the other half is beginning to catch on. It is a delicate and pivotal time, complicated by the demonic heritage of many of the good citizens of Winnow. If King Slanc and his kind can turn the Human nobles’ growing fear of him into a fear of all demonkind, he can divide and conquer his own kingdom, turning it on itself. If the Humans are wise enough to see through the tricks of Slanc and ally with Ephemera’s nicer progeny, Slanc will be in trouble. Right now, however, Slanc is one of the few beings entirely aware of the situation, and working to have things his way. Meanwhile, the Human nobles are just beginning to realize that they live in a divided land. The good demons are still afraid to reveal themselves. Some don’t even know their demonic heritage. Slings and Arrows: Winnow is the renowned home of the Yellow Maple Bow – a composite longbow made of bonded wood from the native Yellow Maple Tree. In a master’s hands, the bow can skewer an eagle from half a league away in a stiff breeze. Winnow’s competition of choice is, of course, archery tournaments – both traditional target-shoots and more elaborate duels of trick-shot prowess; there’s a Great Contest in Localona, twice a year.


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godly realm that fell to earth is obvious. In the age of gods, Yem was the realm of the dead. Little has changed.

Yem

A Love Story: 62 years ago, a young and beautiful prince lived in Yem. His name was Orliss, and he was the son of the Necromancer, Deserach. Though Deserach was as cruel as any of the ruling Necromancers, the villagers adored his son, who came to town often to drink and sing at the tavern. His hair was long and white, and every girl in the village dreamed about him.

Your poor rag doll is mended / Your scarf no longer tore Your mirror shines in darkness / and your coat hangs at the door But your mother dear is broken / She’ll never smile again I face the briny sea to fish / and hope it takes me in I had no coin to pay the duke / I had no worthy treasure

Deserach considered his son’s affection for commoners a disgusting fancy of youth, and assumed it would pass in time. When Orliss came to him and explained that he was in love with Lan, a delicate commoner-girl who worked as a seamstress in his mother’s house, Deserach was less inclined to dismiss it as a phase. He demanded that Orliss begin behaving as the son of a Necromancer should, and Orliss declined with a silent exit from the room.

And so he took our little girl / and killed her at his pleasure Your frail small body’s in the ground / no soul within the skin I face the briny sea to fish / and hope it takes me in � Traditional Climate: Cold, damp, icy

The tension between Deserach and Prince Orliss shook ugly ripples on the calm pool of Deserach’s household. After a month of it, Lan contracted a wasting disease that would certainly take her life. Orliss confronted his father, who claimed innocence and feigned sympathy, since (after all) he was certain that his son’s “vulgar distraction” would be as cold as snow come wintertime. Orliss left his father’s house in tears, and took Lan into the mountains with him to live alone.

Society: A dozen quarrelling Necromancers rule Yem, each jealously attending to their own lands and working to undermine one another; their “king” is the embodied mortal avatar of Death itself, the sad and gentle Dread Prince. The living population is mostly Human; the ghost population seems more varied, but little is known. Language: Yemish is more properly known as Drue Laich (Droo Laysh) or Duir Chore (dyoor KOR-ay). The Necromancers enforce the pure tongue as a tool of their dominion, but a growing number of Yemites reject it, speaking a corrupted vernacular patched with fragments of Sindran and Galtish. Currency: Commons ($$1) and Jacks ($$10). Yemites strike only base-metal and silver coin, since gold interferes with the more delicate forms of necromancy. On Yem’s southern coasts, it’s common to find foreign gold circulating – and some of the more paranoid Dukes interpret this as simmering rebellion.

No one realized they were pawns (not innocent pawns, but pawns still) in a play repeating itself from centuries past. Malor, Yem’s shadowy Dread King, was pulling all the strings, nudging events this way and that from the Throne of Skulls at the center of the kingdom. He had ruled for 400 years, and craved release. He had chosen young Orliss to succeed him, and the rite of passage for the avatar of death is a simple one: he must share intimately in the death of one he loves. Lan’s death is a ubiquitous image in Yemite song and poetry today, but most of them are pure fancy. Only a few truths are certain: they were alone in the mountains for weeks, Lan made shrouds for both of them to keep warm, and when she finally expired, Orliss screamed for nearly a day. The echoes ran down into the valley and chilled the souls of the villagers. Even Deserach was terrified.

Bogho’s Staff, Nicknamed “The Blind Man,” is Five Feet Long

Cities: The Royal Necropolis; Snow Harbor Yem is a narrow, rocky kingdom at the remote northern edge of Uresia, a twisted strip of basalt mountains painted in evergreen forests and deep drifts of snow. No one in Yem regards the Skyfall as a myth, because here, the


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The next morning, the beautiful young prince arrived in his village, draped in his shroud, carrying the body of Lan. Malor, the Dread King, was waiting there, as was Thalon, the ancient ice-dragon that serves as the royal mount. When Thalon let Orliss climb on his back, the news spread immediately: Orliss was the new ruler; the Dread King had passed his throne to the Dread Prince. Deserach, who’d spent years plotting a path into the good graces of Malor, poisoned himself in frustrated grief, and Orliss was there to reap his soul. The Ruling Class: In warm, smoky halls and high, sinister towers, the Necromancers bicker and plot and hate. Each Necromancer rules from a large town (only Snow Harbor is large enough to be called a “city”) and controls their portion of the country through a network of governor-priests and taxmen. The largest city in Yem is the Royal Necropolis, an independent city ruled solely by the Dread Prince. The sorcerer-dukes of Yem are not the thin, sour men so frequently depicted in Temphisian tavern-tales. Those are mostly distorted tales of the Dread Prince himself, or

of Urax, a sorcerer who died decades ago while seeking a treasure rumored to lie in Orgalt. Most Yemite Necromancers are fat, bellowing, vital men, literally bloated with life force as a side effect of their sinister arts; siphons of living energy. Some are gigantic: Bogho, the master of Snow Harbor, is so large he carries his apprentice on his shoulder, and he once laughed so hard he split the hull of a caravel. Life Among the Dead: The hamlets and villages of Yem are normal, or at least much more normal than foreign visitors expect. Yemites tend their goats, grow their roots, chop firewood, fish the icy sea, and try to ignore the excesses of the Necromancers, all the while dodging the fallout of their power struggles. Most of those who die in Uresia do not travel to Yem in spirit, but some do. Just as many living pilgrims make the journey every year, in hopes of locating the ghost of a dead wife, or parent, or lover, or child. Those quests usually fail. No one can guess why some spirits migrate here and others do not, but the ghosts of Yem wander the deep woods and mountains, and keep to them-

Languages Without a Country Each kingdom entry briefly describes the local tongue(s), but here are some other languages worth knowing about. Merchant Crude – A trader’s mish-mash, heavy on the Tembrian (page 26) but borrowing (especially obscenities and cargo measurements) from every tongue in heaven’s grave. When delicate nobles refer to this “common tongue,” they wrap the word common in a ribbon of disdain … Crude is the salty patois of loading docks, minstrel-troupes, brothels and dungeoneering lifers. There are few phrases possible in Crude that aren’t in some way pleasantly obscene. Nearly everyone knows at least a little of “common:” children try it out when parents aren’t listening; parents enjoy it when the kids are asleep. It’s risky to speak Crude to a princeling or priestess, but for wanderers it’s a crucial tool. Sometimes called Bawdy, Vulgar or Slag. Ancient Tongues – Treasures hauled from old ruins make it plain that, before heaven fell, there were hundreds of languages, each different from anything spoken today. The gods, some say, created new tongues at a whim to keep empires divided, faiths at odds, and races mutually fearful. Like the gods, those languages are only ghosts now, etched on rusted blades and fading from potsherds. Now and then, lucky delvers crack the seal of some ancient hall and find intact scrolls or script-heavy murals, but such finds are rare and shed little light. They also pose a question: if you unearth a script in a Skyfall ruin, is it a script of dead men, or the script of dead gods? The Languages of Magic: The Sindran academies teach a large and interconnected body of languages relating specifically to magical processes and formulary.


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When it’s said that a man has “studied sorcery,” to a great extent it means he’s studied these tongues. Many descend from ancient codes, allowing Sindran scholars to decipher ancient spell scrolls even when scrolls of history or poetry stacked next to them defy translation. These tongues allow mages to “speak wizard” to one another for privacy, but that isn’t really what the tongues of magic are for, so conversations are limited to simple ideas (use real-world sentences of only one or two words to represent this). “Speaking wizard” plays havoc with the acoustics, too, so it’s always obvious: the wizard’s voice becomes bizarre, raspy, musical or monstrous. Non-wizards should never attempt to inscribe words from these languages, and should take care speaking them aloud, since even common phrases are potentially dangerous. While the Sindran magic-tongues are the most famous and widely practiced magical languages, there are similar “codes” tied to other magic traditions (Laöchrian Rune-Song, Boru Handsign, etc). The everyday languages of Yem (page 35) are richly magical, something the Sindrans consider outrageously foolhardy. Troll-Speak: Most Trolls encountered within Uresia are Boru Trolls, who speak one of the Gandi dialects of Paldu (page 10), peppered with Troll-phrases from languages largely unknown and uncounted by mankind. Wise men who should know better dismiss these languages as variants of savage gibberish, and lump them together – like the races who speak them – into a single entity: “Troll-Speak.” Slime: While other alleged “racial languages” are small-minded myths or misguided conflation, Slimes (page 74) really do share a language of squeaks, farts, hoots, hisses and trills. Non-Slimes can learn to understand Slime, mostly, but still have difficulty speaking it (use guidelines for “speaking wizard,” above).





Death: Resurrection magic works, but only sometimes. Success seems dependent on how strongly attached the victim had been to living. In particular, the young are easier to resurrect than the old, and the passionate are easier to resurrect than the dispassionate. Even passions like gluttony, not the best for your health in general terms, can make it easier to tempt you back to mortal life, because mortal life has pie.

The Frontiers of Magic Uresian mages shoot fire from their eyes, crack the walls of citadels, and raise armies of the dead … but there are frontiers beyond which wizards lose their footing, and must crawl. Love & Loyalty: Magic can enslave, compel, connive and convince, but it can’t command a true change of heart, and any semblance of one (from a love potion, for example) is temporary, and often features an aftereffect “crash” of confusion, resentment or worse.

Scrying: Looking into (or listening-to or even smelling) the past isn’t too hard, and there are many methods available (ranging from the amplification of psychic residue to plundering the memories of nearby ghosts). Looking into the future, by contrast, is an exciting way to pass out. Those who can manage it (like the Savant Slimes and other trance prophets) tend to have limited control of what they see and/or when they see it. And time and again, visions of the future have proven subtly misleading, pointlessly vague, frustratingly incomplete, or flat-out false.

Blind Teleportation: Teleportation is fairly common, but wizards can jump only to places they’ve visited personally and recently, or between points that have been prepared as “beacons” for the trip. “Beaconing” a locale is seldom stable for long, as the tides of magic shift (the Lenthan Gates – page 64 – are stable, but nobody’s sure how they’re made). Time Travel: There are no known spells that allow travel to the past, and spells that promise “travel” to the future are one-way trips, achieved by suspending the mage from the time-stream, dropping him back in later. Some of these neglect to remove the mage physically while he’s suspended (hence the wizard who’s been standing for years in the town square of Lorm … impervious to harm, but covered in graffiti and birddroppings until his “time journey” someday ends).

Romantic wizards believe that, before the sky fell, there was a golden age when these and all other barriers to ultimate power were trivial matters to hyper-evolved Raansa super-sorcerers with excellent hair and perfect diction. Pragmatic wizards suppose that if the Gods really were bullying and meddling, the opposite is more likely true, and the gods may have hogged the powerful magics for themselves. Precise wizards interject to suggest that “gods” may only be a semantic distinction between ordinary mortals and the most powerful of the wizards. Cynical wizards butt in to remind everyone that this train of thought leads to the conclusion that greedy wizards destroyed the world, and that – just maybe – magic is too dangerous to toy with. Then an adventuring wizard stops nuzzling his Creesh girlfriend long enough to show off the new magic wand he found in a ruin the other day, and isn’t it cool? The others mutter, scowl, and change the subject.

Age and Decay: Youth potions, “age-erasing unguents” and so on are common fare, and they do work … at first. But every fresh application has a diminished effect, and warlords have bankrupted their holdings in pursuit of eternal youth. There are dark rituals for extending life by sacrificing others, but the kinds of mages willing to pursue such magic often as not suffer violent (not to say ironic) early death at the hands of those they’ve wronged. selves unless summoned. The Necromancers harvest them as fuel for their magical machines. Some are absorbed into sculptures of ice and snow … Snowmen: Thalon, the royal guardian of Yem, is literally an ice dragon – a dragon-shaped sculpture carved from snow and hardened by centuries of cold into semiopaque, blue-white ice. Thalon’s claws and teeth are crystal clear, and he glows with a soft inner light. Thalon is a ghost, summoned to occupy an icy form. The art of providing a sympathetic vessel to summon a ghost is so simple (and the results so potentially destructive, or tragic) that performing it has long been outlawed. Even the Necromancers (especially the Necromancers) are forbidden to toy with it, lest they create a rival to Thalon. But every winter, hundreds or thousands of Yemites break this law: young children, who run to the woods when grownups aren’t watching, and build snowmen. This talent (or curse, since it’s involuntary) seems peculiar to Yemites, who can achieve the effect in foreign lands, as well.


The Shaelites: The “druids of the icy north” are priests of Shael, an outcast religion originating in Yem, but with pockets of settlements across the grave – wherever the Shaelites can find a space to keep to themselves. Shael, along with their bards and nature-wizard spiritual leaders, see themselves as guardians of life but as the charges of the wilderness. Contrary to ordinary Yemite motifs, the Shael do not revere death at all, and a core Shael belief is that moderation in all things extends life, preserves peace, and thus makes way for more pleasure and comfort. This puts them quietly at odds with virtually every religion sponsored by royalty, anywhere. Non-Shael aren’t privy to the underlying Shael cosmology, and in particular few non-Shael know that the Shael believe in a real and enduring afterlife: if you are Shael, you know that in death, your soul will travel to a vast cave, where you will lie on the stone floor, perfectly still, absolutely silent, on your back, next to your closest relatives, forever. In the eternal cave, the only reward for having lived a moral life is that your nose is less likely to itch.

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Map: Uresia

Travel Times The scale-bars on most Uresia maps are chronographs, measuring travel time (minutes, hours, days or weeks by road, sail, rail and more) instead of literal distance.

is elsewhere, the wind and sea are fickle in her wake, and navigation is a difficult and hazardous art. Most caravels sport enchanted sails that call out to favorable winds, but sailor’s magic isn’t strong enough to guarantee swift travel without a wise master and navigator. Charts are expensive treasures, the most valuable objects on most vessels, and no king or captain owns a really accurate set. Rarer still (and costlier still, and less accurate still!) are vernia charts … but when a well-timed island flies across the open sea, a ship may strike out to follow …

These scales represent the careful and well-meaning guesses of some of Uresia’s wealthiest and most sedentary cartographers. They also make a few simplifying assumptions to provide quickly usable values – enough to satisfy most gaming purposes. Some additional details for travel-heavy campaigns:

Land Travel

If your players enjoy gaming the hazards of maritime navigation, you can require die-rolls from the ship’s master or navigator to determine the distance traveled on a given day. The best average speed any vessel can expect over a long voyage is 40 leagues/day, but with lucky winds and friendly waters a ship can make greater speeds for short periods. Under the best sailing conditions, with a fit and seasoned crew and a mad and merry gale, a caravel can make 60 or even 70 leagues from one sunrise ‘til next … but two such days in a row would require unbelievable luck (or a dedicated sorcerer unafraid of wounding the Sea Dragon’s ego), and would wear any crew to tatters.

In real terms, an adventuring party on foot or mounted can travel 8-12 leagues (see page 104) per day by road, or over comparably easy terrain (fields and farms, open grassland, etc). This corresponds to 10 hours’ travel, with the remainder of the day spent resting, taking meals, and so on. Parties hike much more slowly across hilly terrain and untracked woodlands. In sparse but roadless forest or moderately buckling hill-country, travel takes twice as long. Mountains, swamps, deep forest and other rough territory can prove much more troublesome; some are barely traversable at all, inspiring the sensible traveler to find another route (or suffer travel times multiplied by 5, 10 or more).

There’s no limit to how badly things can go. On some days, a ship makes no real progress at all – it’s becalmed, or fighting poor weather, or correcting for navigational difficulties. When storms blow, or when charts mislead, a ship can sail off-course with those aboard her none the wiser ‘til they can once again fix their position.

Travel slows, too, in poor weather. Most Uresian roads are little better than dirt tracks, miring to deep mud in extended rains. Map chronographs assume moderate weather unless otherwise noted. Finally, the scales apply best to a party in good health. If any member of the group is sickly, wounded, elderly, portly, or sedentary, extend trip times by a third, then re-compound multiples for rough weather or terrain. Magic, of course, may ease these concerns partly or entirely (elderly, portly wizards – at least those worthy of the term – might have no trouble keeping up).

The sea is never safe, but sailing is most reliable across Uresia’s middle, in temperate climes where steady winds provide reliable trade courses. The icy north seas expose a ship to frequent fog, freezing rains, and drifting pack-ice … while the waters south of Votus can strand a ship in dead calm for days, then whip into a tropical storm without warning.

Ocean Voyages

Other Modes of Transport

Travel by ship is faster than travel by road … usually. Caravels average thirty leagues per day over long voyages. Safe travel often requires convoluted routes, however, because Uresian ships navigate largely by dead reckoning, relying on landmarks and the flights of the vernia to fix location. Simple instruments (compasses, logs) help when sailing beyond sight of land, but ships keep near visible headlands when they can, striking out at points where the crossing is short and well-charted. “Thirty leagues per day” is sufficient for most adventures. Those who seek to exceed it: beware. The Sea Dragon rules the waters, and she thinks it’s funny when mariners drown, or meet sea monsters, or become stranded or lost.† Even when her cold gaze


Boats and boot-leather are the transport adventurers come to know intimately, but every corner of Uresia has its own way of getting around, from ordinary carts and carriages to ice-sleds and swamp-skiffs and nearly a hundred localized species of riding mount ranging from war elephants to thunderjacks to the giant praying saddle-mantis of Gandi. See also Celari thunderships (page 13), Laöchrian steam locomotives (page 22), hot-air balloons (page 51), teleportation (page 37), and assorted travel-anecdotes scattered throughout Uresian lore. † The mariner’s tradition is to refer to the Sea Dragon as “she,” much like a sailing vessel. Sailors spend a lot of time away from their girlfriends.

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T

his quiet hamlet rests in the cool highlands of County Eagan, in the Rindenland. It’s a hub for several smaller villages nearby, and a satellite to the trading-town of Scott’s Landing, several leagues away. Merchants come here as their last stop before turning back down the hills, and villagers from towns higher along the ridge come here as their last stop before turning back home. There is a church here, and the manor house of Rogan Hoggart, lord of the heath and surrounding villages. Rogan’s Heath is typical of the kind of setting most Uresians grow up in, live in, and die in. It makes an excellent hometown for a band of wet-behind-the-ears heroes, or a good place to rescue from a ravaging evil. Of course, like everything in Uresia, it’s more than it appears … Rogan’s Heath is in Rinden (page 26), but it could just as easily be in rural Celar, Winnow, Temphis, Dreed, or even Yem. If you redress the sets a little, turning the huts into ancient, hollowed oaks, it could be an Elvish community deep in the Volenwood. If you picture it as a small network of caves along an old mining tunnel, it can be an underground village of Laöchrian Dwarves. Village life in Uresia is universal; only the décor changes. Lord Rogan Hoggart, Comfortable With Heroism … Less So With Diplomacy

Life in Rogan’s Heath In the spring and summertime, agriculture and trade dominate life in Rogan’s Heath, as the villagers work and tend the orchards and fields, maintain the livestock, and make vigorous industry in crafts. Traffic along the mercantile “back road” that leads here is steady in the warmer months, insuring a constant market for handmade tools, baskets, cloth goods, preserves and so on. Since these are also the seasons in which reasonable people do all of their traveling (adventurers are frequently stubborn exceptions) this is Rogan’s Heath as most visitors see it – cheerful, alive, and hard at work. Autumn brings cold winds and a brief dry season. The tide of hill-country trade turns outward again. Most merchants prefer to winter in distant coastal cities, whiling away the frozen months in toasty merchants-only alehouses. Thus, during the autumn, they take their last


run from the hills, pack up their goods at Scott’s Landing, and then recede from the high country entirely, traveling by caravan to the coast before the snow begins to fall. In the early autumn, the villagers bring in the grain harvest. The rest of the season is set aside for community labor projects: dam-building, barn-raising, repairs to houses, etc. Toward the end of the season, there’s a rush to hunt (and dry) extra meat, and chop extra firewood, to lay in stores for the winter. The arrival of winter isn’t something the villagers look for on a calendar; they look for it on the ground, piled up in drifted banks of white. When the snow comes, and the stream crusts over with ice, the sensible folk of Rogan’s Heath stay inside where it’s warm, drinking sour plum cider, singing hymns, and playing rattail gambit (a sort of “advanced tic-tac-toe,” from Dreed; see page 42).

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Rogan’s Heath

Map: Rogan’s Heath

Provided the snows don’t pile heavily enough to collapse a roof, no work is done in winter. While Father Elo does his best to keep chapel services frequent and interesting, most of the winter is spent drinking and singing and passing the time. In winter, villages like Rogan’s Heath can feel lonely and isolated – even the league-long hikes to the neighboring villages are undertaken rarely. The men still hunt, the women still keep house, and children still play, but it’s a quiet time for the community to stay close and unbothered by the outside world. In the evenings, young and old alike gather to skate on the creek. When spring comes back to Rogan’s Heath, the villagers are usually stiff from sitting, sick of their own walls, and eager to stretch their legs, work outdoors again, and welcome the sight of strangers with news from abroad.

Site A – Stone Chapel & Modest Garden: This is the heath’s community church, a Chapel dedicated to the Goddess Aurela (an ancient goddess of the rains). Father Elo – a large, bushy moustache with a kindly priest attached – is the resident clergyman.

Elo is the village teacher. Twice a week, by joint decree of King Argot and the church fathers, Elo and the sisters & brothers of the chapel gather the village children and teach them their letters, prayers, and whatever else


Rogan’s Heath has no professional bread bakery. Rather, the chapel has a large public oven, fired up daily by the nuns. Anyone may bring loaves to bake, and each household slashes the top of their bread distinctively to avoid confusing them. The donation to use the oven is minimal ($$1, which covers up to four loaves per household) so the local families can easily recoup the investment by baking extras to sell to traveling merchants and barter for traveler’s stories. Site B – A Rustic Country House: This is Rogan Hoggart’s home. He lives here alone, a grizzled veteran of the great war with the Koval Empire, decades ago. He was granted this land in 1355. Prior to his arrival, the village was called Mullinham.

Rogan’s Heath Locations

Elo spends his free time in prayer – praying for the welfare of the community, praying that the Goblins in the mountains are doing well (when they’re doing poorly, they compensate by raiding villages like Rogan’s Heath), and praying that there will be no more wars.

there’s time for – from the laws of the land to as much history as Father Elo can sneak in.

Rogan’s house is a tall structure of rough timber and pale plaster. On the inside, it resembles a miniature festhall. Hoggart enjoys receiving visitors, and he keeps his hearth and stables clean to accommodate them. The guestroom, and the furs, fire, and trestle of the common chamber, is all of the house that most ever see. Lord Rogan keeps the house’s private chambers – his bedroom, study, and library – as very personal space. The house library is the second-largest in the village (after the one in the chapel) and his study is filled with the trophies of Hoggart’s career as a knight – including a magnificent sword forged in Kovali style, hanging quietly behind his stuffed leather reading chair. Rogan’s kitchen is the responsibility of the elderly Ganburys, who live at Site D. They’ve been cooking here since before Rogan moved in.

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Site C – A Large Cottage, Painted Green: The Edar family lives here, in the first house many visitors to Rogan’s Heath see. The Edars have five children, four of whom have left the village to seek their fortune. The eldest son, Mark, stays here, and he’s working hard to take over the family’s share of the orchards. He’s cynical around adventurers … mostly due to his strained relationship with his own adventuring siblings (he feels they’ve no respect for the family’s needs). Mark’s parents, Goble and Mary, are much warmer to strangers: they’re eager to talk to any travelers, in hopes of hearing news that might tell them how their boys and girls are doing.

covered with them, plucking fresh ones each morning to wear in her hair. The Ganburys seem to have miniaturized with age – at least vertically. Neither is more than chest-high to an ordinary man. If they’re stooped by the weight of passing years, they betray no weariness of it in their twinkling eyes and smiles. They’re the two friendliest people in Rogan’s Heath. Despite their declining years (or, perhaps, because of them), they seem determined to sleep with (or at least shamelessly flirt with) everyone in town except each other. “Grandma,” in particular, is notorious for pinching whichever cheeks she can reach. Site E – A Brick Cottage and Painted Stable: This house is home to four generations of Tallwaters. Cal Tallwater is the man of the house, but he’s seen just as often conferring with Lord Hoggart as he is here at home. He took over responsibility for tending the Lord’s grounds

Site D – A Cottage Overgrown with Flowers and Vines: In springtime, the cottage of “grandma and grandpa” Ganbury seems to be resting on a pillowy bed of flowers. Grandma keeps the place surrounded by and

Five Ways to Pass the Time

Centaur

Uresians enjoy gaming as much as anyone, from board and dice games to tavern sports (even a few billiards-style games). Printed or hand-painted playing cards are expensive (see page 89), but in port cities you can buy “sailors’ grimoires” – crude decks produced cheaply with hand-stamped faces – and those find their way into the backcountry in the hands of pedlars and wanderers. No matter where the trail takes you in heaven’s grave, there’s a game or two to play ...

Black Rum Also called Boneyard, Waterbarrel or Brandywine, Black Rum is the most popular card game among sailors, soldiers, and tavern-crawlers. A simple game of comparing hand-values, Black Rum players draw from a common deck, discard what they don’t want, then pick from the cards others have discarded. After each round of “pickings,” the players vote to “drain the rundle” (compare hands and name a winner) or “air out the marc” (play another round of refinements). As the game continues, the pot gets larger, the odds get closer, the hands get “blacker,” and the standards for the resolving vote get weaker.

Capstones

Rattail Gambit A Dreed game, popular throughout the west islands, and in Temphis. Rattail gambit is a simple more-luckthan-strategy game where two or more players try to build a “rattail” – a string of like-colored dice counting from five to one – on an open table by placing rolled dice in turn next to one another, blocking and capturing as they go. It’s a good wintering game, since there’s no real limit on the number of players provided everyone has a set of distinctive dice. It’s most practical in those lands where boneapple trees are common, since dice carved from boneapple flesh dry evenly and take dyes well.

Mastery

Capstones began in either Yem or Sindra as a simple druidic teaching-game, played with a circle of painted stones stacked on another circle of painted stones, where two colors (traditionally, white & green) compete to dominate the circle. Every turn, players hide one stone in each hand, reveal them simultaneously, and then take turns placing their stones and manipulating the circle. Capstones is a recurring metaphor for the priesthoods of the nature-faiths, where it stands in for pretty much any dualistic struggle the priests care to ponder … but it’s traveled well, and is played by children (and drunkards) everywhere in the grave.


In recent years, this card game – under the names Counterlancy or Molandi – is styled as representing the struggle between noble houses in Koval to claim the post-imperial throne and re-author the kingdom. Players work to assemble and “smuggle” royal face cards into whole families (suits), saving them from (or marking them for) assassination and trading them hand to hand. While the parallels to recent history make for good tavern-chatter in a Temphis alehouse, the game is far older than the Kovali expansion, dating back to thornier struggles long ago, in Helt.

Mastery – known in Laöch as Draume’s Crown – is a strategy game played across heaven’s grave, in which pieces can not only capture one another, but also control each other’s movements and come back from the dead. Koval and the Dwarves both claim it as their native invention. Orgalt considers it the “puzzle of the ancestors,” a game Dwarf kings played before the sky fell. Laöchrians attribute it to a legendary rogue of Laöch, Vulsdon Rhune. Most west-islands Uresians think of it as Kovali, and even in Koval they can’t miss the irony that, in Mastery, the darkest forces make the first move. See page 102 for the game’s laws.

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three years ago, when Wrangler Dunley died, and he’s still puffed up with pride about it (to the point of being a little insufferable). The rest of the Tallwaters are very likeable, though, so the village represses its collective urge to strangle Cal whenever he brags about how Lord Hoggart is his very best friend.

Rogan’s Heath Irregulars

Site F – A Humble Cottage and Small Coop: The yard is full of chickens and ducks, and the house seems a little worn at the edges. This is the home of Martha Steelraven and her daughter, Edia. Martha isn’t a widow; her husband serves in the prince’s army, and he’ll be able to return home next year. The villagers have offered to help Martha keep the house in order, but she’s both proud and stubbornly determined to have a leaky roof to complain about to her husband on his return. Young Edia is a dreamer and a poetess, escaping the house whenever possible to write on paper she steals from Lord Hoggart’s house (Lord Hoggart leaves it where she can find it, on purpose – his quiet contribution to literary culture). Site G – A Cheerful Cottage with Purple Trim: Publicly, this is the home of Burle, the carpenter, and his family. Secretly, it’s also the resting place of a murdered priest, killed 29 years ago by Burle’s father. Only Burle knows that it was murder. The village believes that Goblins took the old man in a raid, carrying his body into the mountains. Burle himself thought so, too, until his father lay dying in old age, and confessed to him on his deathbed. Before expiring, the old man explained that the body of the priest is hidden beneath the heavy flagstones of the family hearth. Burle’s father died six years ago, and Burle’s been a quiet, meek man since. He’s haunted in every sense except the literal (and he’s not entirely sure about that). He feels responsible, now, for what his father did, and wants to give the priest a proper burial, and to make reparations somehow … but he wants to do it without shaming the family, without the secret getting out. He’s getting desperate, and he’s decided to seek to help, and soon. He watches any new visitors to Rogan’s Heath carefully, looking for qualities he feels might indicate honesty and discretion. Once he meets someone he thinks he can trust, he’ll beg for help with his “legacy.” Till then, the ghost of the priest and the ghost of his father are growing to dominate his nightmares. Site H – A Large House and Smithy: DuBrow Coronet is a blacksmith who moved here seven years ago with two infant girls, and a wife sick from pneumonia. She died that winter, or so everyone believes. In truth, Coronet’s wife wasn’t sick at all. She was summoned on a mission for the King, probing into a connection between Koval demon-cults and the royal family of Orgalt. She and DuBrow are each career spies. DuBrow is mostly retired – he’s graying, now. His wife, though, is still young. Despite knowing they’d eventually be separated, possibly for years, they married and had twin daughters. Shortly thereafter, her mission took her away.


From pedlars to fortune-tellers to Prince Yoma’s own taxmen (and Prince Yoma himself), Rogan’s Heath is a whistle-stop for many who travel the Scott’s River valley. A few of the notables: Kakar Grool: Rogan’s heath sits high along the valley floor, in the shade of a forested ridge (the foothills of the Greywald Mountains, well-populated with Goblins). Kakar Grool, an ancient Goblin shaman, is an outcast from his people. He lives alone in the woods and visits the local villages under a theatrical show of truce, to trade small crafts for food. Everyone knows the old Goblin has no remaining ties to his former people, but they let him pretend, for pride’s sake. The Moon & Star Sisterhood: A troupe of seven young actresses who’ve worked the river-valley for just a few years, performing plays they write themselves. Their accents are foreign, but they seldom speak out of character. Their shows feature beautiful magical displays of “captured moonlight” and spectral sprays, along with cascades of music heard more in the head than in the ear. Rabulus: A representative of a monastery a few days’ distance into the deep wood. Part of his order’s mission is to spread the written word, and so he travels with a backpack piled with scrolls his brothers have copied for the purpose, on a variety of subjects. He loans them to anyone interested, then returns a few weeks later to collect and trade. Brunley and Rika: A young husband-and-wife courtesan duo, offering their services both individually and in tandem. They travel on no predictable schedule, and sometimes don’t appear for months at a time. Their rates are modest, their services rumored to be excellent, and they’ve long since learned to avoid villages where they aren’t wanted. Some believe they’re bored nobles (they travel with their faces veiled, and whenever they visit Rogan’s Heath, they take tea with the Lord in private). The White-Beard: A nameless gentleman in faded merchant’s robes, the “white-beard” wanders the valley, speaking little, except to occasionally ask people if they’d mind donating a bit of their soul to his cause. He answers no questions, taking only yes or no for an answer. When someone drunk enough or curious enough ventures a yes, he thanks them, touches them lightly on the shoulder, then walks on. Ben Barber: The west-valley’s traveling barbersurgeon is a young and amiable fellow, and still new to the role, having inherited it from his uncle, who passed on just two seasons ago. Everyone considers him likeable, but he still lacks the conspicuous wisdom and gravitas the country-folk expect from his calling. Deana and Verna (page 44) sneer at him, considering him a rival for the trust of the village.

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Someday soon, when his wife’s work is done, DuBrow will pull up stakes and leave town to settle down at last with his entire family. In the meantime, he raises his daughters (they think their mother is dead), and provides excellent tools and nails to the village. On the side, he keeps tabs on local affairs, reporting any issues of importance to the offices of the King.

a rusty Sindran three-bladed sword. Only his youngest brother, Del Moran (age 6) has faith in him, dutifully marching at his side with a wooden sword in hand and a cooking pot on his head.

Site I – A Centaur Longhouse: This building smells pleasantly of grass and good cooking. While there are two sizeable Centaur villages on the Prince’s lands, Baerg and his family (his wife, Torga, and their three colts) settled here because they’re worshipers of Aurela rather than the Heltish/Lochrian pantheons worshiped in those settlements. The village was eager to accept them – they’re incredibly strong, and live outside the village’s tendency to gossip. Anyone can visit them anytime and be sure of friendly company. Site J – A Well-Tended Stone House with an Elaborate Pass Through an Ornamental Garden: Dorinda Rova and her husband, Laughing Bob, live here with their children and Dorinda’s father. Laughing Bob is as cheery as his epithet implies, but Dorinda, while friendly, is more serious. She’s the self-proclaimed guardian of the village’s history, and her knowledge extends to every town and village within a day’s ride of here – anything with even a tangential connection to Rogan’s Heath. Her sons are the best guides in town, and will gladly hire themselves out as such. Dorinda gets visitors from as far away as the river hub regularly, and she spends a lot of time at the chapel, keeping the genealogy records accurate and annotated. She knows just about everyone’s secrets, and regards them as a sacred trust though, truth be told, few of them were “entrusted” to her deliberately. Site K – A Large House with Stables: The Olivette family is one of the largest in the village – 10 in all, including one living great-grandmother. Dain, the oldest boy, is a would-be hero who worships Lord Hoggart. He’s been trying for two years to found “The Knights of Rogan,” the village’s very own order of heroic protectors. Most of his brothers laughed at him, and Lord Hoggart barely tolerates his frequent “salutes” and reports that “… the perimeter is safe, my lord. I’ve seen to it.” Dain guards the village whenever there’s time between chores, wearing patchwork armor and wielding

Site L – A Small Cottage with a Well-Tended Garden: Mrs. Wyana Dunley lives here, along with enough cats to pull a sled (if you could ever convince them). She’s the widow of old Wrangler Dunley, who tended Hoggart’s orchards until he was taken by pneumonia nearly three years ago. The village supports Wyana, and she does her best to contribute by baking, preserving, and taking on laundry from other villagers. One of her cats – a grey longhair that wandered into town as a stray last summer – is a good deal smarter than he lets on. He’s Samaref, a Heltish talking cat. He’s a sneakthief and pirate, on the run from a band of wizards intent on destroying him for crimes he scarcely remembers (not because he didn’t commit them, but because he’s committed so many crimes he’s not entirely sure which ones angered the wizards). By staying deep in rural Rinden, he’s managed to avoid their scrying thus far, and keeps mute when Mrs. Dunley is paying attention. Mrs. Dunley has taken to bringing pies to Lord Hoggart’s house a lot lately; she has a crush on him. Samaref tags along, sizing up Hoggart’s home for valuables. Site M – Two Matching Cottages Outside the Village (Not Shown): Most villages have a resident witch: the local source for charms, fortune-telling, curseremoval, and medicine. Most witches make a show of providing a spiritual alternative to the more organized churches, too, but that’s mainly because witches know that nothing tells company “go away” more effectively than a religious argument. Witches enjoy their time alone. Rogan’s Heath has two witches, and they’re sisters: Deana and Verna. The two don’t play up the traditional rivalry with the church, preferring a bitter-and-very-real rivalry with each other. Asbestos earplugs are recommended! Visitors to Rogan’s Heath rarely notice the unusual witch population. Each witch is visually similar, and each provides all the standard witch-services, from cryptic foreshadowing (free of charge, especially for adventurers) to amusing and occasionally useful potions (usually expensive). Since they avoid each other’s company, visitors

Mossy Enigmas The Rindenland as a whole (and Rinden, in particular) is peppered with ancient stonework, presumably dating to the days of the earliest Rinden warlords (with the inevitable pre-Skyfall wives-tales attached, for those willing to believe). Here along the ridge (and down the course of Scott’s River), the local forms include pyramidal stacks of round stone (“Goblin cathedrals”), lone glyph-carved menhirs (“wishing stones”) and semicircular menhir arrangements with squat “altars” at the center. These latter sites are (according to custom) some kind of ancient shrine.


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Those with magical sensitivies will detect little at the “cathedrals” (and anyone versed in Goblin-lore will know the Goblins had nothing to do with them). The standing-stones and “shrines,” on the other hand, are typically haunted, invisibly and silently crowded by minor nature-spirits and the occasional ghost. Wizards know these sites to be gold-mines of simple wisdom for any with the savvy and manners to converse with the invisible and ancient. Deana and Verna share knowledge of a well-hidden shrine in the nearby forest, and keep a chilly truce about it (it’s one of the few spots in the woods where, for discretion’s sake, they won’t bicker or snipe at one another).





who spot one assume they’re seeing “the” village witch, rather than one of a pair.

This comfortable illusion evaporated the following summer, when Father Elo explained that, as Lord, Hoggart must judge the annual sour plum jam contest. Hoggart had already been worried, since, except for a cartload of sugar from Scott’s Landing, no merchant had arrived in town all day. He later learned that, around “sour plum jam day,” savvy merchants travel clear of the village, to avoid being accosted by packs of manic housewives wielding sticky purple spoons and demanding they take sides.

Those with reason to pry, though, may discover the truth: Years ago, Deana and Verna were two of the Monster Conquering Heroes, a trio of successful and famously flamboyant dungeon-delvers. They were taller and much slimmer, then, and their third partner – David the Blonde – was lost in action, captured by the fanatical priestesses of a Boru sex-goddess cult. He sent a message by carrier pigeon, asking not to be rescued. Without David to mediate, the sisters were an unstable combination. They’re both greedy and slightly paranoid, so they couldn’t trust each other with money or secrets. Now, the sisters make a living as witches, staying on opposite sides of the same village for spite – each determined to outlive the other and one day locate all the hoarded treasure. Site N – A Large Inn, the “Axe and Flagon:” The innkeepers are Gum and Wendy Hogan, whom the gods (or at least determined effort) have blessed with seven daughters, ages 12 to 18 – an ideal arrangement for tending to a large inn.

It is a war. Each household prides itself on its mastery of the jam, and every year, it takes all of Hoggart’s skill at diplomacy (something he’s never enjoyed) to keep it from tearing the community along lines of jealousy and accusation. Once, an entire family of Slimes from a neighboring Slime town was traumatized when Mrs. LuMay cornered them to sample each of 26 variations she’d prepared. The adult Slimes were found nearly comatose, belching purple bubbles. The child-Slimes were so hyperactive it took the nuns a week to repair the church. Site R – A Mound of Earth, Overgrown with Wildflowers: Lord Hoggart doesn’t encourage the villagers to wander the wooded hillside behind his manor, but a few children have spotted this mound and wondered what it was: a grave, perhaps? In a way it is.

A smoky and pleasant feasting hall, smelling perpetually of bubbling stew and frothy beer, occupies half of the ground floor. The locals gather here for any secular meetings, and simply to be social. Merchants stop here for the warm beds, and to try their luck with the oldest daughters.

This mound is the hiding place – or resting place – of Lord Hoggart’s suit of emerald armor, Cloudscreamer. Everyone here knows Rogan was a knight in the Koval Wars, but they don’t know he’s part of an elite Emerald Order … so he keeps the Sometimes, When Rogan Site O – Several Cows, Chewing and suit buried here much of the time, resting Isn’t Around ... Looking Sleepy: The pasture and the beneath a shallow covering of soil, ferns cows belong to the village (that is to say, and wildflowers. Cloudscreamer can toss Lord Hoggart); the cottage houses the LuMay family, who whole trees, so it would have no difficulty emerging in a take care of the cows. time of need, but this keeps it from prying eyes (so far). Rogan hopes he’ll never have need of it again, and for Sites P&Q – Orchards and Fields: Rogan’s Heath 25 years, he hasn’t. Still, every three or four years, he agriculture focuses on Temphisian Sour Plums (prunus suits up and takes a run up into the mountains, just to temphis), transplanted here by a noble with a horticultural prove he still can. Sometimes, when Rogan isn’t around, bent several generations ago. The fruit grows abundantly the suit emerges of its own accord … to sit in the sunlight in the orchard areas (marked with a P). The Q areas are and remember. grain fields. The villagers grow vegetables in gardens on their private plots, adjacent to their cottages. The village also trades for variety with several smaller villages within an hour or two by road. Sour plums are a source of grief to Rogan Hoggart once a year. When he retired here after the war, he believed he’d finally escaped the horrors of combat. He’d found a real home at last, where he could build his library, groom his horses, take rum with his friend Prince Yoma, and never again see men in the hideous frenzy of heated conflict.


Site S – Soggy Creek: The spill from a small waterfall slows along the cow pasture, and then meanders into the woods to the east, eventually joining Scott’s River, a few leagues away. Every summer, the streambed fills with “kettlefish,” tasty scuttling animals the villagers boil and eat by the messy handful. Behind the waterfall is a cave. The children of Rogan’s Heath regard it as a secret camp that grownups must never be permitted to know about. The grownups do their part by pretending not to remember it from their own childhood.

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Map: Shadow River

Shadow River

S

hadow River (Achla Doru) is beautiful even in its poorer quarters. War has brushed and scorched its walls and harbors, but never marred its avenues. The city has a timeless feel, a montage of the architectural styles of nearly every culture and period since the city was born, rolled submissively into the Temphisian oeuvre.

civilized neighborhoods of Pork Hill and East Corner. New Town is the most recent addition – born and fed from the riches of wine merchants, and on increased land traffic from the duchies to the east.

It’s such a wealthy prize for would-be conquerors that historians regard the city as a “hero” of the Koval Wars, even though Kovali forces got no closer than a hundred leagues to its walls. Brovor XXII had been so obsessed with taking the city that he poured over half his resources into building up east Temphis as a staging area. Owing to the wildly magical nature of the land, the costs were high, the returns minimal. Without such an expensive distraction, the Rinden Knights and Sindran sorcerers might never have forced the expansion to a halt.

Outside the marketplace, the Bells is the most assimilated neighborhood in Shadow River, where nobles and poor woodcutters rub elbows while watching giants and Trolls wrestle for wagers. Small fairs crop up without warning here, in the tiny wooded parks. If you’re in Shadow River with nothing to do, follow the sound of the bells.

“The Bells”

It’s a common joke that if the Emperor had taken Shadow River, the war would have ended immediately, with his August Magnificence robbed, rolled, stripped, and pressed into service as a Heltish cabin boy. Then, as now, the city was a place where the timid need not apply. Most call it the “city of adventure,” a rogue’s dream come true. But whether the dream is sweet, or a nightmare, depends in small part on how warped a dreamer you may be, and in greater part on how bold you are with a blade or spell. Shadow River is the unrivalled king of the Temphisian ports … and there are few skills worth having that can’t be tested to their limits somewhere in that maze of cobbles and chimney-smoke. It’s said that every hero must walk the streets of Shadow River at least once before his death. Or, optionally, during.

Shadow River at a Glance The center of the town is the Citadel and Market areas, built over the foundations of the earliest settlements. To the east, against a green hillside, is the Old City – filled with stately merchant manors, tree-lined avenues, and the docks where much of the Temphisian Fleet comes home to rest. From there, the city grows a bit to the south (the arts-and-crafts district of Logantown) and a lot to the west, conquering the hills across Achla Doru (“The River of Shadows”) to form the Bell, Beacon, and West Gate districts, and then upwards and outwards to the less


There are more churches here than in any other part of the city, so many that the smaller local bells drown out those of the great cathedrals on the nearby hills. Nearly every major cult and faith in Uresia has a temple here, so the bells ring at all hours, from the fresh tinkling of wind chimes to the deep sounding of gongs. There are few dangers in the Bells, unless you count dangers to the pocketbook (there are many tempting shops for those fond of charms and talismans, in particular). It’s a good neighborhood to search for an eager wouldbe warrior-hero type; they congregate at the churches, praying over their swords and beseeching the gods for worthy quests.

Plaza of God/Urleg’s Temple The “plaza” amounts to little more than a wider-than-average section of street with a small fountain in the middle, fed by the nearby river. What makes it special is Urleg’s Temple, one of the more unusual churches in a neighborhood filled with them. The church is widely regarded as the ugliest building in Temphis, and some consider it the ugliest object of any kind known to mortal man. Squat, rounded, and hideously ornate in a kind of “wedding cake gothic” taken to nightmare extremes, the temple is constructed from unsightly orange limestone shipped here at considerable expense from a remote quarry in Boru. The “god” celebrated here is Urleg, the 7th ruler of Shadow River (1147-1165).

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Guilds Shadow River is both blessed and cursed with the presence of guilds, though they aren’t the be-alland-end-all of commerce they are in some of the Rinden towns. The guilds are trade organizations: quasi-unions that regulate and protect a specific craft or service. Legally, they can shut down any operation in their sphere of influence that isn’t a member: if you want to be a wheelwright, you need to plunk down your dues and attend meetings at the Solemn Brothers of the Wheel or you’re out of luck. Powerful guilds can make for interesting patrons, allies, or sources of information, but they exist mainly to provide stock groups of vocal, eccentric blowhards to act as convenient foils. “Thieves’ Guilds” aren’t backed by the law, but behave as if they were, setting laws and providing their own enforcement. Some are neighborhood gangs (like the Pale Dogs; page 53), others are citywide organizations monopolizing a specific crime. Some thieves’ guilds keep ties to those less thievish: the Shadow River Forger’s Guild, for example, is essentially a secret annex of the Fellowship of Engravers & Printsmakers. Duke Urleg was apparently quite ugly himself, and lived in sexual frustration despite a series of wives … each marriage remained unconsummated. When Urleg’s ninth bride consented to take him to bed, he was so overwhelmed with self-confidence that he declared himself a god, and designed this temple, along with the outrageous priestly costumes still worn by its caretakers, in a fit of eccentric madness. The city has never found it in its heart to tear the hideous thing down, instead accepting it as yet another badge of identity. Men lay wagers on successfully eating lunch while looking at it.

Old Bridge Road The Bells’ concentration of holy places has its unrivalled center along this street. From the bridge itself to Dim Street, there is nothing but churches: Boru, Temphisian, Heltish Weather Shrines, a small Rinden cathedral, and more – sixty in all. It’s a street of rigidly controlled madness and politely checked passions, a chaos of beliefs muted by neighborly good manners. With the entire world’s faiths on display, though, it’s hard not to have a little “team spirit,” and when the manners fail, the entire city pauses to watch the train-wreck. The ridiculous irony, of course, is that these miniature holy wars are fought not for gods, but for the ghosts and memories of gods, or for gods that never lived to begin with. Except for a humble alcove in one of the Boru multi-faith temples (dedicated to Yuna-Do, their incarnation of the Wine God), none of the surviving gods are represented here at all.


Duke Faem maintains the street’s unusual mix with funds from his personal treasury as the need arises. In addition to its role in Shadow River’s civic identity, he considers it an excellent and visible public reminder: war is easy enough, it says, without inviting it with quarrels of faith. On most days, temples to ancient death goddesses stand cheerily adjacent to shrines of dead healing gods, with no incident more dangerous than competing bakedgoods sales.

Sister Harmony’s Blessed Lunch A beloved institution of the Bells, Sister Harmony is rotund, ancient woman dressed approximately like a Rindenland nun. She serves cheese pastries and hot stew from a wooden park stall, and priests and acolytes of the Bells’ many temples take lunch there, sitting on nearby benches in the shade. While nobody believes that “Sister” Harmony is a real nun or any other sort of devotee, she seems to live up to the uniform by feeding beggars with the day’s last dippings of stew. What most don’t notice is that she gives them food in exchange for any small items they may have handy, fencing a modest fortune in petty stolen goods to chapmen in the countryside.

The Beacon District Shadow River is a city of merchants, but the neighborhoods south of Beacon Hill are home to the largest concentration of purely Temphisian merchants. This is where the local warehousers and buyers dwell; even those who can afford to keep separate manors in the Old City tend to lay their heads here. This is the real heart, therefore, of the city’s power. When a dagger gleams in the night, the skullduggery goes down on Lowbunter Street and the Avenue of Wheels – not in the posh halls of the Citadel. Competition is fierce, and a matter of survival. The local sports include blackmail and murder. In recent years, several unsavory cults have taken root here, playing on the insecurities and ambitions of the more impressionable merchants.

The Shadow River Necropolis A miniature city of tombs, reserved for nobles, wealthy gentry, and heroes. It’s a popular spot with ghouls, literal and otherwise, and the site of a peculiar local monument. Deep inside the necropolis, there stands a statue of a long dead Temphisian hero, Vorn Redis. The statue, for reasons lost to living memory, has no eyes. Some historians believe that Vorn may have been blind for some or even his entire heroic career. Some people, at certain times, can see eyes on the face of Vorn, just as if they were sculpted there. This has proven on several occasions to be an omen of death – either the viewer’s, or someone close to him – so visitors to the necropolis often avoid looking at Vorn’s statue, just in case.

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Vernia: The Flying Islands Massive chunks of rock and foliage drift over the Uresian landscape like impossible, tree-covered clouds. The flying islands – 48 in all – crawl along an arcane clockwork of pathways, casting slow shadows on the meadows and waters below. Called vernia in the Sindran tongues of magic, each flies at its own altitude. The lowest (“Adrin,” an oblong twist of rock twice the size of an elephant) hugs the contours of the world at just under 600 feet. The highest, “Sprua” (a massive wedge of forest and greenery, more than a league from end to end) soars at nearly 2,300 feet. Each island’s journey follows a unique pathway, but the paths have a lot in common. Each is a double spiral centered somewhere over the Lod Sea and stretching outward over the watery divide (no island flies as far as the Troll Lands, but a few brush near). The spirals are long and lazy: most circle their nexus-point 6-7 times on the way out, and the same on the way back in. At the points where an island’s outward path crosses its inward one, the same island can be spotted twice in a cycle (heading in a different direction each time). The islands crawl along at just a few leagues per day; each takes from 3 to 5 years to complete its journey and begin again.

Most of the islands are uninhabited, and too small to bother with (Sprua is the largest by far) … but living on the vernia remains a strong romantic image, and every so often a group of adventurous souls establish a camp or village on one, out of stubborn determination, or a desire to build a cottage on a land no king dares claim (or tax). Exposure to high winds, isolation, and other factors ultimately destroy all such ventures (at least so far). During the Koval Wars, Kovali Elf sorcerers made a habit of lobbing waves of magical fire at any vernia flying near, for fear that they might harbor enemy spies. None did, but tales abound of clever thieves or raiders making use of the islands. Despite the potential for mischief, most Uresians are happy to see the islands coming. While some backwater towns dread vernia as dark omens, just as many stage festivals to herald their arrival. Some people form “island-walking” pilgrimages, hiking in the shade of an island for days at a time.

Shadows over Shadow River The Outline of “Old Man Sprua” vs. Shadow River

Many older Uresian calendars (and popular systems of astrology) incorporate the movements of the vernia, and stylized depictions of their spiral patterns are popular in both occult and noble designs. They never collide with one another, but some come frighteningly close. More remarkably, they never collide with the landscape: despite flying far lower than the highest mountains, they slip nimbly through canyons, gaps, ravines and passes apparently designed to fit them (and perhaps they were). Some scholars theorize that the islands carved their own path when the islands were still cooling into shape after the Skyfall, and that any “errant” vernia crashed centuries ago. Many an odd-shaped hill has been declared a “fallen” vernia as a point of local pride, but none of those claims have been proven. Others believe the pathways are the deliberate work – perhaps even the final act – of the gods, but nobody can agree on what they might mean.


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More than half of the flying islands pass within view of the city, many of them directly over its streets. A few cross their own spirals here, too, visiting Shadow River twice per journey. The city’s double-visitors include Sprua itself, an event that packs the city with visitors.

To get a sense of the scale of Sprua’s arrivals, you can make a “paper Sprua” from a piece of posterboard: cut an oblong shape just under 15 inches long and about 9 inches wide. “Fly” it over the city map (page 46) at an altitude of just over 2 inches, then imagine the scene from ground level. Sprua arrives twice inside of 15 days, every three and a half years … and Vach Boggs (page 51) can barely keep up with the demand for fly-overs (and he doesn’t hesitate to jack his prices accordingly, if the passengers are well-dressed). While most of the vernia are smaller, even the smallest and lowest is visible for many leagues at sea, if the lookout is sharp and the skies clear. Vernia sightings are common in all the cities on the Lod coastlines, but Shadow River is either especially lucky or especially cursed … depending on what you believe about flying islands.





earning their keep by providing the city’s insecure rich with comforting reminders of their superiority. Anyone in the mood for microscopic portions of inedible exotic fish, or for fashions designed (apparently) to cause blurred vision, need look no further than the posh end of Monument Street.

Streets The typical street in Shadow River is narrow by modern standards: 20 feet or so. Some minor streets are as narrow as 10, and there are alleyways navigable only by children, pets and rats. There are only a few streets anyone would call wide. The largest of these is the Avenue of Heroes (nearly 36 feet). The city plan on page 46 shows every street or alley 8 feet or wider (exaggerated for clarity, widths are not displayed to scale), and excludes all narrower routes.

Recently, the city has begun to quietly retaliate with an unspoken declaration of war. Specifically, less wealthy folk from as far as Pork Hill come here to walk their dogs, particularly on hot summer days.

The Shadow Club The painting on the large sign implies that the club is named for the Achla Doru – the river that names the city itself. Inside, though, there are shadows much colder than those cast by airborne highlands.

Walls & Defenses

The club, outwardly an exclusive house in which the rich gather to drink and brag, is secretly a house in which the rich indulge in diablerie and commit hideous crimes. There are members of every race except Elves, but this policy isn’t public knowledge. The devils appeased here fancy Elvish suffering as a proper sacrifice (see next entry).

Shadow River’s fortifications are curtains of fieldstone fifteen feet high, with five major and several minor gates. Towers stocked with arms and fresh arrows are maintained at regular intervals, and guardsmen walk the walls to keep an eye on both the hills beyond and the streets within. There are just over 200 watchmen, serving both as the city’s police force and line of defense against mundane threats. In addition to the wall-towers, there are a dozen “watch-houses” throughout the city.

Grail Park

The Shadow River Arena Years ago, a trial-by-combat craze rewrote the Shadow River justice system. Grand Duke Orgo asked that it be abolished in 1190, and for 30 years the city sponsored public concerts here, instead. When Orgo died in 1221, his successor had no opinion on the matter, and the city called for return of blood and claw to the arena. The blood sports are all voluntary entertainments, now, but there’s no shortage of volunteers. Shadow River is a city where desperate warriors of all races travel to prove their worth or attract the attention of a wealthy patron. Combatants can use the arena, too, to make a private duel a public spectacle – fighting for vengeance is sweetened with the promise of cash rewards! The cozy arena holds approximately 4,000 spectators; it’s closed on Temphisian and Sindran holy days.

South Monument Street The back of the eastern slope of Beacon Hill is, arguably, the snobbiest street in Shadow River, exuding a palpable air of smugness and hostility toward any who aren’t dressed well enough to wear these exalted cobbles down. It’s an air that’s pleasantly absent from the Old City, despite the vastly greater wealth there. Not blessed by noble blood and determined to prove themselves despite it, the “merchant princes” of the Beacon District flaunt what they’ve got like desperate peacocks.

The Citadel/ The Market Behind walls of rough red Heltish Basalt stands the Shadow River Citadel, a reminder of the city’s history as a military target for the jealous Temphisian Dukes. On the grounds surrounding it, the open marketplace is a yearround fair, representing the wonders of the entire world.

The Citadel

The street is a blend of clubs, restaurants, visibly expensive houses peeking out over garden walls, and boutiques


The centerpiece of this placid park is a stone fountain in the shape of a giant wine goblet, tilted at an angle. The Brothers of the God Rondo (a version of the Wine God) constructed it in 1202. Several times a year, it’s the final resting place of a murder victim – usually an Elf, usually maimed, dismembered, and burned with sigils of sinister import. The city guards are poor detectives, but they get a little richer on bribes from the Shadow Club, and publicly insist that the murders are unsolvable. The city’s Elf community is doubtful, and growing angrier with each incident.

The centerpiece of the city is a cluster of white towers, golden spires and a forest of green minarets. It’s the seat of the Duchy of Shadows, whose Duke usually acts as Lord Governor of Shadow River, as well. A few Dukes ignore tradition and appoint a merchant lord to act on their behalf, but Shadow River is a plum job, so most prefer it (even to the point of neglecting the rest of the small duchy).

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Centuries ago, the Citadel grounds were the city entire, and much humbler. Now, it’s a miniature city again – one of splendor and wealth and comfortable insulation from the realities of the world. Beneath the citadel, Dukes and Lord Governors of every era have built and developed a series of vaults, prisons, torture chambers, libraries, and more. The rumors about these places are probably more colorful than the reality, but the PCs may be inspired to test that.

Boggs’ Balloon Rides A large red-and-yellow hot air balloon moors here, tied down on a patch of muddy grass behind the stalls of casket vendors. It’s an unfortunate juxtaposition ... cries of “Bronze! Pine! Steel! Pearwood!” and the stacked rows of coffins can scare away potential customers … but flight is a rare treat for most, and it’s much safer than it looks.

Lyssa’s Talismans This market stall sells “spirit talismans” or host magnets – a Yemite charm meant to attract the presence of the dead, for good or ill. Lyssa Prana, a cute white-haired Yemite girl and her Satyr sidekick, Nuvar, maintain the stall.

The Slave Pens

When the airborne islands draw near the city, the line lasts all day. But even on an ordinary afternoon, Vach Boggs (a Celari pilot with a loud singing voice and a massive thirst for beer) has regular customers, eager to see the city from the air. He also makes a fair amount from adventurers, of course, hiring the balloon to spy or perform some similarly questionable trip. Boggs doesn’t mind at all; he loves taking people into the air for any reason at all, where they can’t escape stories of his convoluted love life.

In Temphis, slavery is the exclusive trade of the Church of Galon, an ancient God of Slaves (and guardian of spelt fields). The law is a relic of Temphis’ early days as a colony of Dreed, when the priests of Galon – on the run from most other kingdoms for a series of scandals – turned over huge coffers of silver and two shiploads of slaves to help make the colony independent. Free to trade with their own silver, Temphis tasted liberty, and granted the church mastery of slaves in exchange.

Hot-Air Travel There was a time, generations ago, when the sight of a Celari hot-air balloon would raise gasps of alarm even in Shadow River (when Boggs himself arrived it threw the city into an uproar, but that’s because he slipped in under fog-cover and landed directly on the Citadel). While hot-air craft are still a source of wonderment to farmers in the sticks, worldly Uresians recognize them as one of the more respectable forms of impractical Celari travel-magic. In addition to simple basket gondolas like Boggs’, some balloonists fly enclosed wooden ones resembling a passenger coach, and (of course) the occasional overachieving wizard enhances a balloon to carry a whole manor-house, caravel, or other oddity into the skies. Since breeze- and flame-manipulating magic isn’t hard to come by, balloons can even be safe, more or less, but they’re more often used for the outrageous than the practical.

The Galonites generally deal in convicted criminals. Just about anyone arrested for anything may be sold to them. While in theory it’s to provide moral correction, in practice it’s more often about how much money any given Duke needs, and how vindictive he (or his enforcers) are feeling. For their own part, the Galonites are very kind to slaves, since they honor the memory of a god sympathetic to them. The worst that can happen under their care is that a slave can get very, very tired of spelt. Occasionally, the Galonites acquire slaves from non-criminal sources, usually on ships from Helt. Under Temphis law, children born of slave parents are born slaves, the property of their parents’ owners until they reach the age of twelve, at which point they are returned to the Temple of Galon as the god’s own property. These children become acolytes of Galon and may ultimately rise to the highest ranks of the priesthood. The Church of Galon holds lands in central Temphis (see map, page 61), and is as influential as any Duchy.

The Auction Blocks Auctions in Shadow River draw large crowds of idle onlookers, since Shadow River auctioneers might have anything up for bid. In addition to the obvious livestock and dry-goods, bidders can compete to buy freshly-unearthed oddities from distant ruins, experimental magics from local enchanters, treasure maps, the services of egotistical mercenaries too good for fixed rates, and (once a year, for charity) a date with the Duke and/or his mistress. There are three competing auction arenas owned by rival merchant-houses, in addition to the stage owned by the Galonites (see above).


The Gallows For years, the gallows were in a small park on Gallows Road near both the Necropolis and the headquarters of the city watch. Duke Faem had them moved to the market two years ago, since travelers were clogging traffic on the South Market Bridge to witness the hangings.

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East Corner

Dosrabid’s Unconventional Alchemy As Shadow River grows and changes, the city’s engineering needs do, too. Thus: Dosrabid’s unconventional alchemy, the only alchemical laboratory in Uresia specialized entirely in explosives.

A large residential district, East Corner was once a lot like West Gate, serving as a market center. It’s always been too populated to keep up with itself, though, and when hard times hit, the city’s solution (Vine Bridge) created New Town (page 55), and made East Corner even poorer. East Corner is home to thousands of ordinary craftsmen, traders, soldiers and others. Crime is common here, but it’s the desperateand-angry variety, not the distilled evil of the Beacon District or the rowdy, greedy chaos of Pork Hill. East Corner is a good place to start looking for someone on the run; there are many places to hide there. It’s also a good place to shop for cheap goods of any kind, or to hire thugs and labor.

Dosrabid, a chuckling Boru with a song in his heart and a fireball gleam in his eye, works his staff through the night to produce newer and more exotic magic bombs. More “serious” alchemists call it a debasement of the noble quest for spiritual betterment that is the true aim of the art. Dosrabid calls them a bunch of self-righteous wimps, and he yells it, BECAUSE HIS HEARING ISN’T SO GOOD! Dosrabid gets most of his money from noble and urban excavation projects, but adventurers eager to leave their mark on the world drop in to sample his more experimental fare – ice bombs, disintegrator bombs, organic-matteronly bombs, and more. Of course, since his bombs are all “works in progress,” there are unforeseen snags and flaws, but that seldom deters his customers.

Alchemists’ Row Stump Street contains the largest concentration of potion shops in Shadow River, earning it the nickname “alchemists’ row.” The smell of Stump Street is frequently horrible … especially on warm summer days when the scents of nearby Hide Street (the leather-tanning district) rise and mingle.

The Helm and Dagger From the outside, it looks like a weapon shop in poor repair. Inside, it is the product of a Rhinoman’s singular obsession with the tools of destruction. The Helm and Dagger is something between a military surplus shop and a museum – a boutique specializing in unusual relics of warfare. Wickedly carved blades, baroque pieces of armor, and even instruments of torture are here, provided they were used as part of a war effort. Like any shop specializing in the unusual, Vondro’s place attracts the occasional danger that needs to be dealt with – and, when the money is available, he personally sponsors quests for objects of which he’s heard rumor.

The Chainmail Bikini If the idea of an all-Dwarf strip club weren’t upsetting enough, Runder Gunloph’s establishment is also East Corner’s leading spot to hire a hit man. Rumor has it that among Gunloph’s line-up of talent is an expatriate Charcoal King, employing the mystic arts of the order to commit murder for hire. A dark, noisy tavern decked out in Laöchrian style (a mine shaft/railroad motif with naked Dwarf women spinning around poles), the Bikini is as deadly as it is unthinkable. Carlos B’kai, a famous Kovali cat-burglar (a Human) has chosen this as his regular hangout for reasons no one dares to guess.

Pale Dog Alley

Doru Road Rats Every part of Shadow River has at least a few sentient beasts (see Wise Beasts, page 71), but in East Corner, a huge colony of Dreed Rats rules the streets from the gutters and quays. The colony’s suffering a splinter at the moment, though, divided into feuding rat-gangs vying for territory along Doru Road and adjacent alleyways. It’s turning into a bloody war, and soon even the people may take notice. That possibility worries Lethik Gar (a level-headed scrounger-turned-gang-leader) very much. His band of rats consider themselves the secret protectors of the children of Indulgence House, a Dreed orphanage on Red Clay Street. He fears (with ample justification) that his nastier rivals may decide that human children make suitable tokens for counting coup.


East of White Column Way, Lowbunter Street takes on a new name and a different character, as the most picturesque and unusual street in East Corner. Unlike Tall Barrel Street to the south, Pale Dog accepts that the neighborhood will never again be the city’s eastern gate of trade, and has adapted: rather than taverns snarling and scraping to stay afloat, there are an increasing number of restaurants, specialized craftsmen, and unusual services. Pale Dog even defies convention by encouraging independent vending carts and street performers that aren’t associated with the guilds, creating an attractive haven for them. So, when the rest of the south side goes to bed at night, Pale Dog awakens into a low-key evening festival, lit by oil-lamps paid for the powerful street coalition. Already, Red Clay and other nearby streets are attempting to follow suit, and discovering that without Pale Dog’s coalition, success is impossible (especially where guild pressures are concerned). Thus, they turn to Pale Dog’s new masters for aid, and soon, this may be the template for East Corner’s new identity: an “after sundown” district

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Led by a Boru opiate merchant, it’s a genteel mob, but a mob still. It may be years before pressures between the local and north-end criminals erupt in war, but there are those at both ends already sharpening their knives.

Hear the Cannons Roar Dosrabid’s explosives are among the most advanced in Uresia, but cruder things-that-go-boom have been around for generations, providing the smoke and thunder in matchlock cannon, bombards, and powderkeg bombs.

Silver’s Warehouse In recent months, a new kind of monster has taken lives in the city: small, gargoyle-esque creatures with silent wings and skin like hot asphalt. Their eyes are bright yellow, and their claws can shred steel armor. None have been captured for identification, and only a few wizards suspect the truth: they are Jovanos Imps, made in a stew of alchemy, sorcery, and innocent Human children.

Gun-Meal: Common Uresian explosives are equal to very crude black powder, but seldom is “military meal” made from the familiar mix of charcoal, saltpeter and sulfur. Uresia is blessed with an abundance of potentially volatile materials, from the rare smoke-flower of Helt to the ordinary longhair kitten of Koval. Uresia’s powder recipes are all guarded secrets, but they differ mainly in color and odor. In practical terms, they’re each a dodgy mess that sometimes goes BANG and sometimes goes pfffft … and they’re all sensitive to moisture, poor blending, and separation in transit.

The process is permanent, and the life span of the resulting creation is only a few days. But Jovanos Imps are obedient, strong, and savage – excellent servants, airborne assassins, and even robbers, if the target is easy to spot and identify. The process of creation, the work of The Lady Idari Jovanos of Koval, was suppressed years ago. But Rangost Silver, a desperate wine merchant and dabbler in black magic, got his hands on the necessary grimoires, and saw in them a fresh enterprise to save he and his family from financial ruin.

An Age of Swords: Gun-meal is used mainly in naval engagements, civil demolition, attacks on stonework (bombards can crack a castle wall with a lucky shot) and in the mad schemes of mercenary adventurers. The future of gunnery (if it has one) lies beyond both practical and cultural hurdles. Cannon are still too crude, heavy, dangerous and slow, and many Uresians decry explosives as a shadowy art, because they can deliver death anonymously, indiscriminately, and without honest strength of arm. A truth rapidly fading from the popular memory: prior to the Koval Wars (when moral stances began to slouch toward convenience) crossbows and many battle-spells were forbidden in Dreed and the Rindenland for similar reasons. Not anymore.

Rangost operates out of his warehouse – a large winehouse kept stocked to the ceiling with casks, a maze of shadows and wood. He still sells what wine he can, but he earns most of his money in the back room, where he keeps a large iron cauldron and a shelf of noxious potions – and a child-sized cage. At first, he used kidnapping – stealing runaways that might not be missed, and demanding high fees for the tasks they could perform. It wasn’t long, though, before he started purchasing the children, often from povertystricken parents who could no longer afford to keep them.

More Bang For Your Bullion: Powerful and specialized explosives are rare; men like Dosrabid even moreso. Take the tail secretions of an Elu rock gull; add the residue of a cold-acids transmutation from iron to glass; sprinkle in gently warmed dust from a woodpath on which a nobleman has been murdered, and …individually, these items are (as Dosrabid puts it) “mere condiments,” but in proper balance they can launch chunks of mountain out to sea. Such super-explosives put the passion in Dosrabid’s heart, but none of them are practical, not yet: some have alchemical side effects; many are too demanding in terms of their preparation, and a few explode prematurely when someone taps the container, hums the wrong tune, or thinks about soup.

His “face” in the Shadow River underworld is Rundle, his sole assistant. Rundle makes the deals, acquires the children (often posing as an agent of a holy order or orphanage) and covers the tracks. Silver keeps to the shadows, working the magic and controlling the imps. His own family doesn’t know. Eventually, Rangost will rob, or attempt to assassinate, the wrong people. Until then, his demons slide half-seen against the dark sky, and the innocent young die in his cauldron to raise them.

Skull’s Hatch

for rogues, scandal, mercenaries, and gambling that lacks the rowdy, cutthroat air of Pork Hill. Beneath the jovial air of playful roguery, though, the money has to come from somewhere more certain than thieves who need a quiet booth to skulk in, and it’s coming from their masters. The Pale Dog street coalition is also known as the Pale Dog Gang, a new enclave of organized crime taken root in the soil of East Corner’s poverty.


A grimy little tavern that seems out of place so far from Shadow Bay, Skull’s Hatch has an atmosphere of merry piracy. Spiced rum flows warm here, beneath a tattered Jolly Roger, and the owner and barkeep is an Elu Pantherman with a white patch over his left eye. He’s the son of Black Skull, a feared buccaneer who built this place nearly 30 years ago. Rumor has it that beneath the tavern lies Black Skull’s treasure, the plunder of twenty years at sea. Rumor is

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yond the veil. However, it’s become just as often a gathering-place for artists seeking recognition for their views on mortality, futility, or the pain of their most recent romance. The Dread Prince can witness each performance from the Throne of Skulls, but he seldom bothers anymore.

Gram Obel, Bladesmith A stern, serious Dwarf from the Orgalt highlands, Gram came to Temphis when most of his clan were butchered in a feud. Determined not to give his talents to conquering rivals, he sells them instead, here in Shadow River. Gram is a master blade-maker and rune-carver. His studio (nothing so crude as a “workshop” lasts long in Logantown) stands among dozens of unusual artisans along the north side of Olive Road. The masters of the Royal Embassy of Orgalt suspect Gram of helping to harbor Nameless Dwarves, but he’s too popular to arrest.

Nectar’s Garden This large house stands at the heart of the Logantown “red light district,” on the corner of Silk and Cresting Streets. Nectar’s garden differs from other houses of ill repute in specialization: while nearly all the patrons are Human, all the girls are Elves. Master and Mistress Andrian – a husband-and-wife team – built the place to capitalize on the intense fascination for Elves many Humans have, but they ended up building a kind of halfway house for girls being sent out of Birah for their own safety. Groups of prudish activists insist that Nectar’s Garden is exploiting the Birah girls’ plight, but no one else seems to think so, least of all the girls, who work only as they please. The Andrians have several expatriate daughters of Birah who pay their way by tending the house in a purely platonic fashion.

half-right. Black Skull traded his booty for a map that led right to this spot, atop a hidden tunnel dating back to the first colonies here. The tunnel burrows south into the side of Bunberry Hill, and Black Skull bought the small warehouse that had concealed the tunnel, built a tavern instead, and worked to expand the tunnel into a complex maze of chambers, pits and hidey-holes. Men, loot, and dead bodies (or all three) can be hidden, or forever lost, for a price.

Logantown Logantown is the southern extension of the Old City, the second major neighborhood to develop in centuries past. Artsy-craftsy types – artisans, painters, musicians, poets and more – now dominate the area. These mingle with middle-level merchants and a few others, and the result is a district of mellow parks and pretense, where drugs (even dangerous magical narcotics) are used openly in sidewalk cafes, and any sort of pleasure can be had (for prices that don’t always involve money). The buildings are mostly old and mostly lovely; Logantown has the charm of the Old City without the exclusivity.

Death’s Dais The Avenue of Fog runs into Meadow Street at the north end of one of Logantown’s small parks – one adopted by the Dread Prince of Yem during a visit here. The Dread Prince dedicated Death’s Dais as a place where singers, poets and eloquent speakers could share grief and memories, and speak of the dead. The intention was to create a living memorial, where warm emotion instead of cold inscriptions would honor those passed be-


The Hideout The southern half of the Avenue of Fog sports a dozen or so tea-houses, where patrons seek the camaraderie of an alehouse without the risk of alehouse brawls. In these places, “tea” can mean any kind of ptisan, coffee, chocolate or other botanical brew. Most are mild stimulants, but some feature more exotic blends of alkali and natural magic. Rowdiest of the Fog Avenue houses is the infamous Hideout, where the brawl of choice is philosophical debate, and the atmosphere is one of spittlesoaked shouting matches punctuated by the occasional venomous silence. The owner is Tavanosa, a Borumaga gemcutter and emerald importer who abandoned his business to his sons a few years ago. His establishment attracts a wide variety of wizards, merchants, and others, in addition to the usual penniless poets.

Sir Hadel’s School of Knighthood A gleaming, battle-ready suit of emerald armor stands here at an iron gate. Beyond the gate are stables and a well-kept house, with a large yard behind it – Sir Hadel’s “knight school.”

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Since many parts of Temphis have known peace for several years, more and more nobles are rising to power with no military experience at all. Some noble houses are so “mercantile” that the young Princes- and Dukes-to-be aren’t even taught to ride, let alone fight. And even those nobles who’ve been trained in the arts of war sometimes find themselves trapped in a frustrating life of diplomacy, administration, and tedious, snobby cocktail parties.

a blasphemy, but also a particularly disrespectful and vile one, on moral par with any other exploitation of the dead, coupled with impiety.

These nobles go to Sir Hadel to become men. For an outrageous fee, virtually anyone can embark on a three-week odyssey into hyper-knighthood, engaging in long fullarmor hikes, dangerous jousts, mock battlefield exercises, and classes on subjects as unusual as “The Proper Abuse of Servants” and “Maidens: Not When I’m Done With Them, They’re Not.” Sir Hadel, a retired (some say disgraced) Rinden Emerald Knight, is a seething, spitting, shouting caricature of overstated masculinity. His skills and – to a lesser extent – his training methods are genuine, but his motives are questioned by everyone, and nobody regards his “warlord diploma” as a serious credential outside the city’s bored upper crust. However, that’s a crust big enough – and wealthy enough – to keep the venture comfortable.

New Town In the spring of 1299, the Shadow River Guild of Wine Merchants gathered gold from their coffers to rebuild the old South Bridge and turn it into Vine Bridge – a sturdy stone span like the others to the north, good for the heavy carts the merchants favored. The poorer merchants in East Corner breathed a collective sigh of relief, because they needed the new channel to keep food on the table.

This quiet inn is run by the Vantoyas, a kind family of Winnowite demonspawn. They are a Human-looking family with deep purple hair and silvery eyes. The Vantoyas left their home in Localona nine years ago, fearing the coming reckoning when Winnow stops denying its “demon streak.” Old Gottle Vantoya wanted to insure that his family would be far from any deadly hysteria. Four generations of Vantoyas live here, now, and they send for more cousins, uncles, neighbors and others when they can find jobs for them in the city. Other demonspawn come through regularly, too, and the Gottle House – a general-service inn with room for over 40 guests – serves as a focal point for the local Winnowite demon community.

A Yemite social club for necromancers, Winter Hall is a victim of irony. It has a dreadful reputation as a nest of evil, and many factions in Shadow River are actively seeking to shut it down (since it’s openly a haven for those who practice a “black art”). Of course, most Yemite necromancers are very respectful of the dead, and spend more time freeing souls bound by unscrupulous enchanters than they do ordering the dead to wash their horses. Unfortunately, few non-sorcerers really understand this, and many fear that Winter Hall is everything the Shadow Club (page 50) really is. No one plots evil here, at least not habitually. Usually, the necromancers get gorged on lamb and argue Yemite politics until the small hours, growing angry and sentimental to the tune of a native chorus.

Pork Hill

Leaf House A simple, well-appointed inn. Leaf House is Sindran, but newcomers to Cold Street seldom guess that; there are none of the ubiquitous trappings of sorcery and mysticism favored by most Sindran inns … because Leaf House doesn’t join in Sindra’s traditional celebration of magic.


Gottle House

Winter Hall

The blessing lasted seven years or so – the time it took for the muddy track opposite East Corner to blossom into New Town, which was a fresher, less squalid neighborhood than East Corner could hope to be. Now, East Corner is back in the same slump as before, because all the warehousing to be done on the southern end of the city has moved across the river, to a neighborhood where warehousing (and innkeeping) dominates the local interest.

Leaf House is the Temphisian headquarters of the Ghost Reverence League, a Sindran anti-magic cult. Since – according to their reasoning – Uresia’s heightened magical nature is certainly “bled” from the ghosts of dead gods, any sorcery that makes use of it not only

The League’s members come from all countries and races, and struggle on despite overwhelming indifference from those they’re working to reform. Their membership even includes many sorcerers – scholars devoted to isolating magics that make use of only the “natural” power in the world, focusing on hunts for ancient spells written before the Skyfall.

Pork Hill dominates the seediest part of Shadow River – the neighborhoods serving the west-bank “public” docks, where any ship that sails may take harbor. The Pork Hill neighborhoods include Trolltown, one of the deadliest locales in “civilized” Temphis. Pork Hill is anything but civilized. Cutthroat pirates, illegal press-gangs and “shanghais,” packs of vampires, black markets that outpace the legal ones – these are all facets of Pork Hill.

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It’s a great place to visit, though, if you’re brave and fast. There’s no better place to hire people willing to do anything – and few better places to shop for exotic arms, or strange drugs (this far from Boru, anyway). The local guild bosses own the Pork Hill division of the city watch entirely.

Ardor’s Rope The Temple of Kelt (page 58) is the city’s most famous Dreed eatery, but Ardor’s Rope is the one most favored by out-of-town visitors from Dreed (when they’re aware of it). Tucked between a barber-surgeon and a stable on Caravel Street, Ardor’s Rope looks like a typical Pork Hill tavern: run-down, stained, and burned in several places. Inside, though, on rough tables made from casks, Bondary Ardor and his family of seven serve the tastiest food in the city, sampling from every cuisine and style the Ardors can find and study. Ardor is an honest restaurateur who welcomes all races and types to his tables, but he insists that nothing illegal go on beneath his roof. His two teenage daughters keep the family in a constant state of nervous concern, and Ardor is considering leaving the city lest they fall in with bad company this close to the docks. His eldest son has already left home to be a sailor, and that’s bad enough, as far as he’s concerned.

The Ga-Shu An ancient “Wise Troll” hag occupies this house. The GaShu is a spirit medium, a more successful one than she lets on. She regards herself as the speaker for the ghosts: the one living soul in communion with the spirits of nearly every dead god. She may even be right. She’s privy to voices no other medium can hear, and they speak to her with unusual force and purity. If they’re not the ghosts of gods, they’re the ghosts of something awfully pushy. They speak of their plight, they issue commandments, and they demand worship. The Ga-Shu is a stubborn old Troll, and doesn’t respond politely to demands for anything. She listens carefully, prods with her own questions … and then keeps her experiences a secret. She gives voice only to the Troll Gods, and those she reveals in the form of cryptic prophecies. Several parties have divined her secret, but stop short of action that might escalate to deadly force. If the Ga-Shu is in contact with godly ghosts, and she dies, the next voice fate chooses could be anyone, anywhere – or no one at all. Rather than risk losing ground to an unknown quantity, forces are gathering to sway the Ga-Shu with honey rather than vinegar. The voices know all of this and more, though, and the Ga-Shu smiles inwardly, eager to milk the game for all it’s worth.

Civilian Docks

Keddlegum’s

A wild mix. Many of the With shaking hands guided by an local taverns specialize in unwavering gaze, Arno Keddlegum shanghai tactics, complete carves the flesh of men’s faces – for with trapdoors leading an exorbitant fee. Publicly a cheap down to waiting boats. barber surgeon, Keddlegum is a rarity – a physician sorcerer specializing in a crude and painful form of cosmetic surgery. It’s Not Uncommon to Spot the The technique is half magic, half Ga-Shu Perusing Local Shops rusty razor. It takes a week to heal, Micus the potter lives along Small Bells even with the special potions he provides. Street, near the open quayside on Without them it would take months, and there would be Bayside Way. He’s a rarity: a Mushroom Troll living perpermanent scars. It all works, though: he can’t do much manently away from Sindra. In addition to his admirable about build or size, but he can change the face totally, skills as a potter, he’s earned the status of local celebrity even altering the jaw and cheekbones to entirely alter by helping save the lives of endangered sailors on two apparent demeanor – and in Pork Hill, there’s a steady occasions when burning ships were sinking in the harbor stream of desperate men eager to escape the law or the (Mushroom Trolls are fire resistant, and extremely buoypursuit of a vengeful enemy.

The House of Micus


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ant). He moved to Temphis when his wife of 60 years died and he couldn’t bear life at home without her.

more of a challenge for the next generation of burglary (who’d also pay his way through life). The wealthy buy his locks, the thieves buy his picks, and he buys thick steaks and good wine and makes the city his testing ground, a meticulous game of criminal solitaire. He labors to build masterful locks his tools can’t defeat ... Then, he invents new tools to defeat them.

Alarmingly, after nine years in Temphis, Micus has begun to exude glossy ooze from his cap – ooze that’s mildly poisonous to Humans and similar races. Wizards he’s consulted chalk it up to the accursed character of native Temphisian magic, but haven’t been able to devise a remedy.

As even more age creeps up, Osiris begins to grow tired of the game, and now he’s pondering a new approach. With a skilled (and gullible) team of rogues or delvers, he could rob half the Old City blind in a single cold night, make off with the loot, frame the perpetrators, and and retire in comfort somewhere in Boru’s coastal towns, where the smoke is narcotic and the women (he’s been told) fancy their men old and rich and clever. Any takers?

Voroch Meadhall This is an old-fashioned Orgaltish festhall – a longhouse filled with smoke from a huge pit of smoldering coals, where beasts are roasted whole as Dwarves cheer and guzzle mead with noisy passion. The noisiest of the lot is Ironbrow Vurnsson, a grey-haired Dwarf so weathered he seems to be woven from leather, smoke, and intricate tattoos.

The Old City Ghost The Old City is a storied neighborhood, much of it centuries old. So when a spectral maiden drifts down a cold boulevard at night, singing sweet songs with unsettling lyrics, people lock their shutters and shiver, but they’re not surprised – it’s only natural that the Old City be haunted.

This is the house of Shadow River’s most powerful guild of thieves. Ironbrow is the guildmaster and, in turn, master of nearly all of Shadow River on the west bank. His guild is multiracial, and – apart from his choice of headquarters – Ironbrow works hard to avoid favoritism.

The Old City It was once a messy sprawl of urban life, but that’s gone west over the river. The Old City is a shaded hillside maze of arboreal boulevards, posh eateries, exclusive clubs, grand manors owned by the noble families of Temphis, and by the “fleet masters” – the wealthiest of the city’s merchant class. A few powerful sorcerers keep full-scale strongholds here, though they look like ordinary manors from the street. This is where money plays, on a plate of curried favors or in a stew of intrigue – a dance of style and secrets and promises.

Dredjer the Locksmith From Baron’s Bridge out to Blue Lamp Road, the Old City is a curious mix of the traditionally urban and quietly snooty (on the hill, snooty wins, exclusively). Osiris Dredjer’s lockshop combines them: a fine, expensivelooking place of ornate dark wood with panes of dark green glass, a balcony on the overhead apartment, and a padded leather bench out front. But while the decor is top-shelf, the clientele includes some very shabby fellows, indeed.

Gebra – an old, wealthy, very-much-alive witch who lives in a grand house at the top of Keel Street – haunts the Old City. She’s in great favor as a seer with the ducal court, and has been for years. She’s addicted to a drug: benza root, a rare plant merchants bring in from Lochria. The ghosts and demons and others are Gebra’s dreams and nightmares, given form by her sorcery mingling with the sticky sap of the benza. She wakes with no memory of her hauntings, though she’s begun to suspect … and so far, her “imps” have seriously wounded no innocents. Gebra is poised on the brink of decision – to fight her addiction (it’s destroying her slowly, and endangering others) or simply embrace it, and to hell with the risks. She’s very old, and benza root is one of the few pleasures left in her life. If she opts for the latter, she may be unstoppable – bolstered not only by magic, but by an iron wall of ducal favors she’s been accumulating for years.

Flicker Street The alleyways along the north side of Flicker Street (the old city’s “boutique district”) are the site of an annual, all but invisible, tragedy.

Inside, the spinning clockwork displays and mother-ofpearl inlays are for show, to make wealthy patrons feel at home. Behind the counter, Osiris sells the most perfectly designed lock-defeating tools known to modern burglary. Osiris spent years as a thief, pilfering jewels and coins from stately homes, both amused and appalled at the minimal resistance of ordinary locking mechanisms. When age crept up, Dredjer decided that the rich would still pay his way through life and, in turn, he’d make robbing them


The spectral maiden isn’t a ghost, however, and the occasional horde of screeching purple imps are not demons. The fiery horse that leaves flaming hoofprints on the rooftops? That’s no horse at all – living, dead, nor spirit.

Gebra’s dreams are the most famous “ghosts” of the old city, but there are real ones, too, including a steady population of snowmen (page 74) created by unscrupulous Yemite sorcerers as experiments, or by innocent Yemite children. Most do their best to get away on a caravel sailing north. A handful find their way to the icy plateaus of the northeast Troll Lands, to join others of their kind.

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Some, though, never manage to escape, and find themselves trapped in Shadow River when spring arrives. They shuffle from shade to shade, doing their best to avoid the attention of mortals, but doing their best to stay among them for a few extra hours, dreading the anguish of melting, the horror of returning to formlessness. Even a body of dirty, empty ice is a body. Inevitably, a handful ends up here – the shaded alleys where the snowdrifts and icicles linger longer than anywhere else in the city. They huddle to keep out the warmth, and ultimately they join the drifts, slowly vanishing, their bodies eventually muddying the street.

The Temple of Kelt The most expensive public restaurant in the city. The Grand Duke himself dines here in preference to the citadel when he visits. A trio of Dreed “god chefs” run it, living in Temphis as the city’s official ambassadors to Dreed’s royal court – and turning a nice profit doing what they enjoy. The food is excellent and varied, of course, but the Temple trades as much on Dreed’s reputation as its own, and while the upper crust break bread here, better food can be found in humbler quarters if you know where to look.

River as amusing (or noisy) as a band of hopeless thugs or Trolls being beaten senseless by a cluster of shrieking 13-year-old girls. Madame Ona runs a “magical girl school,” training young girls to develop magic powers and use them for good causes. She also teaches them a repertoire of dirty hand-to-hand fighting tricks … as a Sindran, Madame Ona believes that sorcery should never substitute for good whack to the skull with a toy wand. Students come to Madame Ona from all over the world – sometimes as hopeful runaways, sometimes sponsored by villages that need a heroic protector. Ona’s students study for two years, after which they receive their Magical Girl Diploma and enchanted accessories. Girls must select their motif and teammates (optional) at the end of their first year.

Sergeant Banks & The Owl The Old City is the setting for a peculiar war. Two summers ago, a skilled cat burglar known as “the Owl” is said to have arrived on a caravel from Sindra, and began stealing the jewels – and hearts – of the noble manors’ prettiest young ladies. With shining eyes and a peaceable, swashbuckling spirit, the Owl became a notorious scandal in a city that believed itself too jaded for such things. Nobody could decide if it was more fashionable to claim to have succumbed to his charms, or to have resisted him.

Madame Ona’s School for Girls

A Helpful Volunteer From the Criminal Underworld Near the northeast end Visiting Madame Ona’s After Hours of Bell Bridge Avenue, at the corner of Cloud Street, there stands a stately home surrounded by a low stone Sergeant Alawen Banks of the Old City division of the wall. The grounds occupy an oblong block that formed watch made the case a personal quest when the Owl around it years ago when the land belonged to a merintruded on his own impossible romance – his crush on chant prince of Boru. There are two other large buildings, the princess, Naniri Lederel, daughter of the Duke of Skull one of which is all but hidden by a thick copse of trees Basin. Naniri lives in Shadow River with her aunt, and filling the western end of the site. she’s aware of the sergeant’s affections. She’s even flirted with him playfully at public functions, but seems deterThe home and grounds are peaceful-looking, immaculatemined to draw the line there. When the sergeant caught ly neat, and obviously owned by a person of considerable word of late-night dalliances between the Owl and “his” wealth and an excess of confidence. There is no visible princess, the watchman saw red, and the greatest war in security; anyone could jump the tiny wall. the history of Shadow River law enforcement was on. It’s a plum presented to attract bullies and thieves It’s a game with many amused onlookers. The smart mon– drunken criminals from out of town looking for a cowey seems to ride on the theory that the Owl stays in town ardly score. Every few weeks, a gang of thugs close in, after all this time and heat because he’s enjoying having an determined to make off with anything they can carry. adversary, that he’s entertained by Alawen’s increasingly The locals line the streets to watch, doing their best to convoluted traps and stings designed to snare him. seem nonchalant. There are few spectacles in Shadow


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The pundits have it wrong. The Owl’s legend is his own, or rather her own, creation, for the Owl is the princess herself, battling a dull life of privilege in a city far from home by creating adventures and stories. She funnels the stolen jewels toward favorite charities (keeping only a few choice pieces). Her legendary romantic “conquests” are only distorted gossip, expanded from nothing more than a playful kiss she plants on the back of the occasional frightened hand. Her other secret is that she’s beginning to fall for Sergeant Banks, but she’s having far too much fun to let on! In the meantime, the fallout from Banks’ unwitting “courtship” of the Princess is a crime-spree rivaled in destructive potential only by Banks’ own elaborate, desperate countermeasures. He’s started hiring mercenary adventurers in a final bid to catch his thief, despite contrary orders from his commanders.

West Gate District West Gate (sometimes called the “North Beacon” neighborhoods) is the city’s gateway to the West River baronies. The neighborhood is a blend of artisan and merchant neighborhoods. There’s little here to interest the very wealthy or elite (except some of the more colorful ethnic eateries, which attract “slumming” merchants and princelings looking to show off their cultural savvy), but there are streets upon streets teeming with busy life. The whole area has a reputation for danger, largely undeserved. Apart from the occasionally rowdy gang of youths, it’s a stretch of safe ground between the more constant peril of Pork Hill and the more sinister evils just south of Knight’s Beacon.

Incense Park This small park between Butcher Street and Stonegully Road fills up with Trolls on many afternoons – most of them here from the Gandi Uplands of Boru (page 10). In the Gandi Hills, the Trolls keep a culture distinct from the Human-dominated Boru, but the Temphisian transplants take pride in their homeland, and (perhaps) realize the value of practicing Human customs in a varied and dangerous city. So, here are Trolls who practice simple “Troll versions” of the native Boru arts of illusion and, more disturbingly, the native Boru exotic dances and intellectual debates.

Hunters’ Embassy A lofty name applied to a ratty, dark boarding house. This place is a haven for hunters of the Nameless, Orgaltish mercenaries who earn their living by tracking down escape slaves (“Nameless” Dwarves; see page 25) and shipping them back to a life of misery. Since Shadow River is an important port, the “business” here is good enough to support this place – with help from King Thorvald, in the form of a modest annual stipend.


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Sewers & Tunnels Like all large Uresian cities, Shadow River sits atop a poorly-understood network of subterranean passages, sluices, and chambers. Many of these are (or have been incorporated into) the drainage system, which carries street-water to the river. While the majority of the drain-shafts are unpleasant crawlways too small to navigate on foot (human foot, anyway), these eventually dump into the main drainage tunnels, which have service ledges and street access through locked gratings. Some of the more storied tunnels, however, have nothing to do with drainage: old pirate hideaways, private tunnels between guild houses, and so on ... and resourceful tunnel-crawlers have unearthed and repurposed old works of subterranean architecture into flops, stashes, dead-body-dumps ... even a rumored underworld marketplace, the “shadow bazaar” which angers the guilds more than the watch, for doing business without their oversight.

Striking Metal Legends abound of what lay directly beneath the Duke’s citadel: prisons, torture chambers, private library archives (including collections dating back to the founding of the city), laboratories and more built by Dukes and governors of old, each pursuing their own ambitions in the dark underground. Some rumors are truly outrageous (including one of a small underground lake or pool, where the Duke frolics as an aquatic shape-changer), but some are almost certainly true. In that latter category lay the duke’s treasure vaults, and the duke’s mint, where he strikes coinage spent in the name of his duchy. Minting is, traditionally, the province of fine metalsmiths bonded to noble service. Coinage crimes (trimming, overstriking, private minting, forgery, or debasing more or less than the local warlord demands) are punishable by gruesome death – usually a long, forced swig of molten silver – or so the written laws claim. In truth, even money law bends to serve the money. For example, the pound royal (1 lb of silver, $$1,000) and pound imperial (1 lb of gold, $$10,000) are units of account for huge transactions, referring to full coffers and sacks of coin. But the richest merchant brotherhoods mint their own ingots, casting tiny one-pound bars of trading bullion marked to certify their worth. That’s illegal; on paper it’s a capital crime … but in practice, it’s “punishable” by a nod, a wink, and a quiet annual bribe. While the citadel’s mint is, legally speaking, the only mint operating in the city, there are several metalsmiths in town who (discreetly, and for princely sums and favors) strike metal for the merchants. The Duke might even know.





The Knife House

The Candlestaff

A stately old stone manor – one of the few such structures in North Beacon. It is the home of Fedell, an elderly Winnowite known more commonly by his nickname: Lord of Assassins.

A small shop snug to the west rise of Beacon Hill, along a stretch of Miernoth Street so steep the merchants call it “Tipcart Way.” The Candlestaff hangs no shingle; its sign is an old brass candleholder, seven feet tall. When the shop first opened, it specialized in hand-tooled leatherwork for the adventurer with too much cash. It seemed to do well, but within a year the owner locked his doors. Carts arrived to haul the wares away, and everyone assumed the shop had fallen into debt. Then, the Candlestaff reopened, under the same owner, as an Orgalt-style charcuterie, complete with ritual smokingbowl. A few of the city’s grouchier Dwarves complained that the stone-boar haunches were too sweet to be authentic, but it sparked a culinary trend anyway … until the doors closed and the carts returned, transforming the Candlestaff into a first-rate upholstery shop (the city’s only source, at the time, of Yemite grey stag suede). Sixteen years and 41 changes later, savvy visitors to Shadow River drop by to toss coins at whatever it is the Candlestaff is selling this time, whether it’s potions, adult novelties, prayer mats or cat collars. In 1375, the owner (a cheery Sindran named Manciple, still looking alarmingly young) finally installed the shop’s prominent suggestion box, stuffed daily by nostalgic immigrants.

Fedell hasn’t killed (for money, anyway) for years, but his apprentices and “foot soldiers” are the cream of the city’s crop, hand-picked by the master. His work is discreet, professional, and certain. The nobles insist on his immunity to legal censure, and the city’s handful of dedicated lawmen stew and wait, hoping he makes a mistake that tears him from the cloak of royal protection.

Knight’s Beacon The tower called Beacon is the only structure in Shadow River that stands taller than the highest flags of the Citadel, due to its position at the top of Beacon Hill. The broad, square base of the tower is the hall of the Knights of the Moon, the sworn protectors of the city. Temphis is notably casual about the concept of nobility, even in the semi-feudal countryside. Here in the city, where bags of gold take precedence over plots of land, the attitude is magnified – merchants purchase titles and trade them like bottles of wine, and name “knights” to the Order of the Moon as special favors. Paradoxically, there are few orders nobler, at least in spirit, than Shadow River’s native guardians. The master of the tower, Lord Howlan of Brach Vorn, is a Celari veteran of the Koval Wars, and instills his men with honor and respect for knightly virtue. He accepts the “favored” sons of merchants as the Lord Governor commands, and hand-picks trainees from the young men of the town. His ranks are made up of rich and poor alike. The training is difficult, and most fail, ringing the Bell of Defeat Lord Howlan hung in the tower garden. Any trainee may ring it at any time, if they are willing to face the shame of it. The top of the tower magnifies moonlight – or the light of a signal fire – with such intensity that it can be seen several leagues offshore on a clear night.

Medley Cathedral A kind of “Memorial Cathedral” – a church built to provide a gathering place where the lost/dead gods can be discussed and studied, more than actually worshiped (for places of worship, see “The Bells,” page 47). A unique, dedicated order of priests runs it, maintaining a large library. They pay well for documents or findings appropriate to their cause. The friendly “denominational neutral ground” feel of the place has also turned it into a kind of cleric’s clubhouse, where any priest of any race can make friends, learn new tricks of the trade, and talk about religion for hours on end without annoying anyone – as long as they relate it to history. The priests-only parties held in the basement are legendary.


Past the City Gates … The map on page 61 depicts the most settled portion of Temphis – the expanse of lands between Shadow River and the Grand Duke’s capital to the southeast: Clawsport. Between those cities, the otherwise interminable mountain ranges of inland Temphis take their most generous pause, permitting the existence of a useful corridor of trade for those who dare take the road. In most respects, this region is as wild as the rest of Temphis, but there are at least some well-traveled roads, and trading towns with enough wealth to maintain patrols. This depiction is celebrated because it’s an enigmatic rarity. It’s easy to find copies, but none of them entirely agree with one another, and the hundred or so printed from the original plates are hard to come by, having scattered to the world in the packs and pouches of treasure-hunters. Probably no more than a dozen survive. They were for sale, originally, on the city streets in the autumn of 1368. The price, then, was 2-3 gold pieces, and the occasion was a memorial … the funeral parade of “Grandma” Lafe August, a legended adventuress who finally passed (peacefully) after almost seventy years of swashbuckling swordplay, thievery, romance and magic. She had purchased a fine manor in the Old City, intent on writing a tell-all autobiography that would “bring a blush to every cheek and enshrine the memories of the those who’ve shared my bed, my treasures and my marching order.” There are a few problems with every version of the map. The biggest is that Grandma August never did complete her steamy tell-all memoir beyond an outline, a stack of rambling notes, and a hundred or so doodles of her own signature. The map represents the most complete

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portions, and it includes many references to the sites of her “perils, great successes and frustrating failures” which her writings promised to expound upon – but never did.

Map: Grandma August (Middle Temphis)

While many of the sites on the map are well-known (the Rinhaven Monastery, the regular towns, etc.) some others are questionable, unlikely or just puzzling (is the “Spike of Memory” a rock formation, perhaps, or something else? And if it’s a rock, how can anyone distinguish it from the thousands of strange rocks in the North Vermics?). The location assigned to the wreck of the Wise Prince Stephen doubtless ties to her famous adventures using a magic gauntlet to call up shipwrecks from the deep, but the Wise Prince Stephen is the name of no ship any living mariner can recall or any harbormaster can find record of. Another mystery involves what the map doesn’t include … Grandma August did most of her adventuring in the Duchy of Throle, but her memoir notes (and her map) avoid the lands of the Cruel Duke almost entirely. Why? It remains a useful item, though. It’s more correct in its proportions than most others available for the same territory, and the broad-strokes information remains accurate (but see below). The printing plates were stolen shortly after the funeral, along with “Grandma’s” notes … and Grandma’s corpse. The thieves burned the printing house to the ground, injuring dozens and killing the resident prints-master. His family has restored the business (Guspidor’s Prints & Engraving, Shortshadow Street), but has elected never to re-master that particular map, leaving the original funeral prints to become prized collectibles sought after by scholars, adventurers and worried nobles alike. Of possible related interest: some of Lafe’s old adventuring companions lead what amounts to a small but thriving cult dedicated to her methods, headquartered on a caravel that sails from remote port to remote port, avoiding enemies and questions.

A Hole By Any Other Name … One mundane detail on the “Grandma August” map may soon become obsolete. The winery guilds of Dog-Hole (Duchy of Alders) have sought to imitate the success of Shipwreck Harbor (Duchy of Grace), which adopted the more comforting name “Honest Harbor” in 1357. The Dog-Hole guildmasters convened in winter to agree on a new name for Dog-Hole, and after weeks of drunken arguments, finally settled on a compromise from the dozens under consideration. At the first of spring, they proposed their choice – Honest DogHole – to the Alder Duchess. Witnessing courtiers report that the duchess excused herself gracefully from the meeting, and returned a few minutes later, her cheeks rosy, with a promise to consider the proposal earnestly.


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U

resia is, properly speaking, only the central, civilized islands, those lands over which the vernia fly, and where magic flows freely. Beyond the grave is the watery Divide where magic fades, and beyond the Divide lay the Troll Lands. But even within Uresia there lay realms beneath the earth, and within the sea, where no lord of heaven’s grave holds sway.

The Deeps The world beneath the ground shares a place on the map, so to speak, with Uresia proper. But to most men, the underground is a world separate from their experience, a legendary darkness ruled by its own denizens, its own laws, and its own dangers.

But the most glamorous deeps are the Skyfall ruins, down tunnels made by no mortal hand, the crushed remnants of the day when heaven took a dive. It’s not always clear – especially when a ruin is freshly-discovered – if a ruin is an authentic Skyfall remnant or simply some other ruin that time has forgot … but owing to the romance of adventure, Uresians like to think the best of any hole in the ground. So, mistaken “Skyfall ruins” are probably common (ersatz ones too, especially in Koval). Provided they’re still well-stocked in strangeness, treasure and danger, most adventurers don’t mind. There’s a kind of cult of delving that’s come to surround the ruins. It’s rooted in the growing belief that the lords and churches have the right to rule and profit from the land … but that the deeps are fair game for anyone – that any baron or king who dares claim the unseen remnants of a past age is overstepping royal authority. Some specifically believe that the Skyfall ruins exist to choose new people to lead the world, by rewarding those bold enough to survive the tests of a delver’s life. Many nobles hate this, a lot. Some hate it violently. In some parts of the world, delvers learn that if they’re freelance adventurers, villagers who live near a Skyfall ruin will be warm and helpful … but if they’re questing on a lord’s behalf, the reception is chillier. This is most pronounced in lands with harsher rule, but it’s been spreading, subtly, across the grave.

The Dwarves are in a unique position to appreciate both the surface world and the underground, since even their cities straddle both, and so Dwarvish terminology frequently rules the day beneath the ground. The Dwarvish fathom is the standard measure of depth, and gindo – “delver” – is their word for anyone who works beneath the earth (whether questing for treasure or just maintaining a sewer line). The Dwarves also have a simple name for all the places underground: they call them deeps. And because they do, so does everyone else.

The deeps are, traditionally, the Yisha Tanara, Deep in the first “other world” a group of wandering Sunken Halls of Kazim, Boru rogues and heroes sees, often in the form of some local legended ruin taken over by hostile beasts, haunted by spirits of the dead, or riddled Another realm that shares a map, but not really a world, with deathtraps. Such ruins are common, left behind by with the grave: the realm of the ocean floor, the undersea. layer upon layer of dead kingdoms past, failed warlords, Most men regard it as an untouchable frontier, but recent mad wizards who died leaving the metaphorical gas on, events have confirmed the old sailor’s legends: there are and so forth. Beyond these are caves, and the cave-netcities of Merfolk and other watery races, riding to war works of Heaven’s Grave are much vaster, deeper and against one another astride sharks and giant squid. more populated than those of our world.

The Ocean Realms


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Beneath and Beyond

The most populous “Beastmen” community in Uresia may actually be the Mermen, who seem to have communities in all the waters of the Inner Sea and perhaps beyond it. The land-dwellers don’t know much about the Merpeople, though, since contact is minimal.

Uncounted, Uncharted There is no broad agreement on the extent of the Troll Lands, or how many islands there are, or how large each island is, or what each land should be named. “Lentha” is, for example, the Elvish name for the largest eastern island, used also in Sindra, Temphis, and Birah, but mostly on faith … and one Sindran expedition discovered another island – called Zisamir – which is really just the northernmost tip of the island they were already calling Lentha. Similar confusions apply to every part of the Troll Lands, and every country is confused differently. The maps in this book constitute a “best guess” of the extent of the Troll Lands, distilled from what evidence there is.

Presumably, the ocean realms are laden with Skyfall ruins just as Uresia is, but no one knows for certain. There may be entire cities of the fallen sky exposed beneath the sea, inhabited by Merfolk privy to their divine secrets. The paranoid governors of Koval discussed this often at the height of the Empire, seriously considering a “just-in-case” war with the denizens of the deep. Only the expense of their surface campaigns kept it in the planning stages. Such an invasion might have gone very poorly. The Sea Dragon is a powerful deity who seems determined to keep her realm separate from the surface world. Most expeditions to the deep become one-way trips into her divine gullet.

Uresian disciplines of magic. In the scholarly archives of magic, what this all means is poorly documented, but the few known facts are rigorously and meticulously feared.

The Divide, The Gloom, and the Death of Magic The Divide is the stretch of ocean between heaven’s grave and the Troll Lands. To the naked eye, it’s just open sea like any other … but to the heart of a mariner, it’s an expanse of terror. To hear the sailors talk, the water turns grayer, the skies bleaker, and wind crueler the instant a ship strikes out from home into these outer waters. Sailing the Divide toward uncharted territory is perilous. Even if a ship finds land, there are high cliffs along the Troll Lands extending for days in both directions, where a crew can die of thirst while searching to make land. Those who land safely meet hungry predators, “savage” Trolls, and threats of all descriptions. But as any mariner will attest, the worst of the Divide (which worsens in the Troll Lands) is the gloom, the yearning to return home. It begins as a distant note of melancholy, but in time becomes a gut-wrenching brew of misery, dread, and panic. Everyone experiences the gloom differently. Some buckle while still at sea; others can traverse the Troll Lands for months before the burgeoning uncertainty sprouts thorns of phobic aversion. There are potions and talismans to ward against the gloom for a time, but when they inevitably begin to fail, the terror can strike, sudden and deep, with deadly result.

The Troll Lands The Skyfall pushed the old empires into the sea, but fragments remain as a shattered ring of haunted islands beyond the Divide. The Troll Lands are large, beautiful in their way, and visibly broken: forests stop suddenly at sixthousand-foot cliffs of cooled magma, the edges of giant volcanic plateaus. There are chasms so wide and deep that to stare into one is to stare into misty darkness, even on the brightest day. There are deserts, and raging rivers, and giant swamps … all wilderness and ruin. And there are the crumbling, vacant cities of the distant past. What’s left of the ancient world belongs to the Trolls – a group of races immune to the gloom – and that seems to suit them. Indeed, one body of Troll legend holds that the disankt go – the “god brawl” – was the work of Troll gods,

Wizards have their own compounded problems with the Divide: when a caravel loses sight of the last Uresian headlands, the magic – all the magic – starts to fade. The effects are cosmetic at first, but there’s a wobbly band of sea where magic is so thin that even a Sindran archmage can’t do more than light your cigar (if he can stop darting his eyes and looking panicky long enough to manage that). If your destination is the Troll Lands, the duration of the magic-dead zone can be anywhere from a long afternoon to a couple of days, depending on the ship’s progress. As the vessel approaches the Troll Lands, the magic does come back … but it’s both weaker, and different, as if it flows from, or to, somewhere entirely unfamiliar to


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and tunnels burrowing beneath nearly half the great expanse of Drova Nor. There’s only one known entrance, however, beneath the ironically-named Palace of Purity. Entrance to the Mad Maze is a gift to delvers favored at court, and those who can bring back one of the treasures “seeded” there are celebrated.

Three Ruins Barely Plundered The Buttonhole – In 1348, the Temphis Grand Duke laid claim to a humble, muddy island called Brown Button, visible just offshore near the village of Batton’s Hold, south of Lognell town. The isle is notable for two things: the sodden (and mostly submerged) ruins on and beneath it, and the fact that the island hadn’t been visible prior to 1348, when the local lord reported it at court. Such “emergent lands” – new islands rising from the deep – are more common than most people suppose, and there are Sindran scholars devoted to their study, and the dangers they may represent.

The Gunwar Deeps – The Dwarves of Clan Gunwar were among the founders of Laöch, and in 1183 the last Gunwar remaining in Orgalt died there, of a ripe old age. They found his body, peaceful and smiling, in the throne of the ancestral hall, surrounded by the stone doorways leading to the old clan vaults: the Gunwar Deeps. The king divided the Gunwar lands among the clans he favored at the moment, but claimed the vaults as his own. None of his soldiers survived the expeditions into the trap-laden warrens, and those since have fared no better. Tales embarrassing the Orgalt kings never grow old among the Gunwar Dwarves thriving in Laöch, who are fond of claiming that one day, a true Gunwar will return to Orgalt, armed with the secret of claiming the Deeps and the treasures therein. Most others suppose the Gunwar treasures were spent long ago toward the task of building Laöch, and that the Deeps are just a merry, deadly jape played on the Orgaltish lords.

The Mad Maze – Irrational, despotic rulers have done no favors for Koval’s place in history, but it’s a truth in every realm that there’s nothing like a madman (or a series of Mad Empresses) when it comes to building unusual dungeons to explore. The collection of tunnels and chambers known as “the Mad Maze” began, some say, as a modest torture chamber constructed by Emperor Gustigus “The Petulant” in 1199, but by the reign of the Seventh Mad Empress (Zora) it had been expanded to (according to rumor) more than a thousand chambers, warrens, dead ends, oubliettes a trick to give great territories to the Trolls, to be rid of the pesky weaker races. No one can prove this isn’t true.

The Lenthan Gates

“Troll” is a generalization, no less than “mankind.” Just as “man” includes Humans, Dwarves, Elves, Hramath and so on, “Troll” can mean any of a dozen or more TrollLander races: Giants, Trogs, Cyclopes, Viles, Ogres and many more. Most are large and strong, and most live as barbarians, so it’s convenient to regard them as brute savages. In fact, they’re just as bright (and just as occasionally dim) as mankind … something few men realize and fewer still care to acknowledge. While most Troll cultures are primitive, they have their own magics (Troll sorcerers tend to be shamanic types), their own poets & musicians (Troll music tends toward loud monotony) and so on.

In 1214, a band of Temphisian explorers and Sindran wizards mounted an expedition of magical plunder to Lentha (the largest eastern island). In the process, they discovered the seven known moonstones, the destination points of an equal number of sunstones scattered across the islands.

There aren’t nearly enough Trolls to fill the Troll Lands, or even to have much impact on the sense of vast desolation. Most Trolls are nomads, with only a few bands settling in “squatter colonies” in the ancient cities. Since few Trolls build structures of their own, the Troll Lands have stood unchanged and wild for centuries, barely touched by its inhabitants, barely seen by man. For generations, Uresians were content to forget the Troll Lands. But as Uresia’s kingdoms stumble toward maturity, scholarly interests in the past – and a less-lofty interest in lost wealth and magic – have inspired expeditions there. The earliest of these revealed some tantalizing things: that the ruined cities of the Troll Lands contain keys to the age of fable … fragments of lost mortal realms, evidence of dead races, and the truth about old religions. The findings have been no more than hints and clues (won in the face of great danger) but it’s been enough: modern Uresia is fascinated by the Troll Lands, and so begins a mad rush to unearth the best secrets first.


The discovery was a fortunate accident. In the dead of night, a Heltish Grizzly attacked the party in a deadly rage, slaughtering two camp guards before a binding spell could safely hold the beast. The explorers were left to tend their wounds, and to puzzle over the presence of a Heltish beast in the Lenthan highlands. The answer was nearby, resting in pools of dusty moonlight on the forest floor: a ring of circular stone slabs hewn from mottled blue rock and cunningly carved with sigils and images of the moon. Each moonstone pairs with a sunstone placed elsewhere. At the time of the expedition’s discovery, there was a sunstone each in Lochria, Orgalt, the Volenwood, Boru, and Rinden. Another was at the opposite end of Lentha. The seventh stone remains undiscovered. At regular intervals ranging from 17 to 61 days (each sun/ moon pair is “tuned” to a different cycle) magical windows materialize above the tiles, opening a two-way gate between the pair. By exploring from the Lenthan end, the expedition discovered the locations of the six known sunstones. No one has ever seen the seventh moonstone activate; many suppose its corresponding sunstone has been destroyed. A few hold out hopes that its cycle has just been suspended somehow, that the right key might open the door. Sorcerous scholars from the Volenwood

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and Sindra stand watch, observing the moonstone site at all times. The region’s Trolls avoid it, due to a healthy blend of superstitious fear and genuine indifference.

The Outer Sea

One of the sunstones – the one formerly in Lochria – has been moved. When it became plain that an evil Adlet sorcerer had designs on the stones for his own purposes, the Sindrans staged a daring raid to steal the half-ton stone and sail it to Sindra. It rests, currently, in a well-guarded citadel near the city of Avonir, but Anandriel’s princes are negotiating for ownership, since they regard the stones as Elvish treasures (the Sindrans agree; they’re just haggling for suitable trade).

Past the Troll Lands, the extent of the oceans is a mystery, and few ships have ventured even to glimpse the “Outer Sea,” much less explore it. At the outmost edges of the Troll Lands, the magic dies again, this time completely, and the Uresian “addiction” to heaven’s grave becomes debilitating to all but a few. The Trolls might be able to explore beyond the edge safely, but they have so much space to live, and so much to explore nearer home, that they’ve no real incentive to try. There is an excellent chance, besides, that the Outer Sea is exactly what it appears to be: only an empty expanse of grey water and sky.

If the timing is right, the Sindran sunstone gate can be used to travel rapidly between Sindra and any of the five other sunstones, by passing to and from the moonstone glade in Lentha. It activates every 20 days, and stays open for just over an hour. Adventures could spring from the need for such a trip (perhaps with the cooperation of the sorcerers who guard it, or perhaps despite them, meaning a tricky entry into their citadel). There’s adventure potential, too, in the theft of a stone … some scholars, despite the very Elvish-looking decorations on the tiles, believe the gates are really the work of the Raansa (see page 71), and that neither Anandriel nor Sindra have any claim on them, beyond the right of possession.

Mummy Towns In 1260, an expedition to the deserts of the southern Troll Lands uncovered nine massive cities, ruined relics of a bygone age. Trolls, most of whom prefer cooler weather, hadn’t settled anywhere near them, so man began to explore freely. Even the smallest of the ruins is four times the size of any Uresian city, and the structures are huge and magnificent, built of glossy red stone. Unfortunately, they’re also teeming with the restless dead – mostly very irate mummies. Ruin-delver “boomtowns” have sprouted near each ruin, competing with one another, competing with the mummies, and rocking into the night with brawls and revelry. Since the local desert wear is a loose wrap of white linen, it’s often difficult to tell the living from the dead, leading to countless misunderstandings and plenty of yelling.

The Drethan Pools While a few expeditions have returned from the Troll Lands claiming to have located this legendary site, none have been able to provide a working map to allow others to repeat the find. So, the Drethan Pools are still just a story, to most. The Pools are an ancient Elvish holy site, with magic waters possessed of all the usual things magic waters are supposed to have: the power to make wealth, the power to restore youth, the potency to cure ills and banish curses, and the ability to act as an alchemical ingredient of unparalleled purity. Dretha itself was once a city of marble, vines, and trees at the heart of a vast empire,


or so say the Elves. The delvers who’ve stumbled on to Dretha describe crumbling sun-bleached lumps of crude brick in a hot expanse of ashen desert. The pools, though, are by all accounts pristine and glorious, working their magic on themselves, whatever that magic may actually be. Few samples have survived the trip to Uresia with any power intact; nobody’s quite sure how to store it properly. A single vial once sold on Shadow River’s auction blocks for a sack of gold the size of two fat Dwarves. Its magic was real, but an elderly nobleman used it to cure a receding hairline, so no one knows the real extent of the water’s power. Later, that same nobleman was found wandering the streets, unable to find his own house or cite his own name, scratching a full head of hair in confusion. This may explain the well-kept secret of the pools’ location. Those who’ve seen it also warn of an enchanting ghost or demoness guarding the site from within the pools themselves.

Frozen Ghosts A well-preserved stone ruin forms the foundation of a snowman city, a colony of icy ghosts. When Yemite magic draws a departed soul back to a semblance of a physical existence, the tortured souls often seek their way north, to stave off the eventual thaw and obtain a kind of sad immortality among their own kind. It’s a city without food or warmth … but there are marketplaces, where the frozen dead trade handicrafts, art, performances, and stories. The citizens here come in every shape, from elegant ice-sculptures of Elvish heroines to crude piles of snow with carrots stuck in, depending on their summoner. The snowman city would be only a tragic oddity, but for their leader: the frozen ghost of Deserach, the father of the Dread Prince of Yem (page 35). His soul was summoned into a malformed lump half the height of a man, sculpted by a drunken necromancer in Laöch. Halfmelted, hardened, and carefully rebuilt, the once-powerful sorcerer-duke plots vengeance on Yem and on his son, stirring false hopes of a return to real flesh in a horde of icy, restless followers.

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Other Realms, Other Realities

The Etheric Prison-Planes: While wizards don’t agree on which plane is the “ethereal” versus which plane is the “astral,” warlords who can afford wizardly aid agree that it’s very convenient to toss criminals, enemies, noisy mistresses and disappointing servants into those bizarre realms rather than dealing with them. Sometimes, they regret their haste, and hire delvers to be thrown in after them, to retrieve what’s been lost.

Beyond all land and sea, there are the skies, the planets and stars, and entire universes hanging at indescribable angles from Uresian reality. Even more than the deeps, or the mer-folk cities, or the Troll Lands, these are places beyond the experience or even the imagination of most Uresians … but some affect Uresia every day, and touch the “mundane” in unexpected ways. Where Demons Call Home: On the other side of shimmering gateways, down select rabbit-holes, and at the business end of a banishment spell, lay other worlds. The inhabitants of alternate realities are, collectively, known as demons, and the study of yanking them from there to here, telling them what to do and then throwing them back is demonology. Popular images of red-skinned, arrow-tailed devils aside, “demon” is an even more uselessly broad term than “mankind” or “troll.” Sometimes, incautious adventurers get tossed into the “devil worlds” and must work hard to find their way home, but more often than not, it is the denizens of these other worlds, disgorged or captured into our own, who become foes, allies, and adventurers themselves. Beyond “pack clean underwear and bring a wineskin,” there’s no useful rule on how to handle a trip to these realms, and whether you call them astral, etheric, akashic, transmortal or just plain odd, there are uncountable numbers of them. One notable sub-set of the demonic realms are the elemental planes, but they, too, elude most attempts to classify them. Each embodies the essence of one of the elements from which the universe is constructed, but here’s the rub: nobody agrees on which elements compose the universe, and every competing theory seems to be equally correct, at least to the extent that there’s a universe somewhere from which “elemental” demons can be summoned. Threadbare old standbys like Fire Elementals and Water Elementals reflect the quaternary Earth/Air/Fire/Water scheme most wizards know but make light of, but more avant garde casters subscribing to (for example) Hyrion’s theory that the entire universe is composed of just two elements (Noise and Stink – the result of an epiphany while babysitting his sister’s triplets) can summon those elementals, too. With hundreds of competing theories, ranging from the prosaic to the truly abstract, the possibilities are a little unsettling. Just an autumn ago, a clutch of Indifference Elementals did unspeakable damage to the Sindran freeport of Zyrias (small comfort that no one in Zyrias really cared).


The Heavens: Another world beyond the grave is the world above it, the celestial realm of planets and stars. This world is unexplored – Uresian attempts to build spacecraft have thus far failed impressively. But it’s certain that there are those still living in the heavens, since (on rare occasion) they’ve fallen to ground, sometimes in “ships” of metal or stranger stuff still. The stars and planets are well-documented by Uresian scholars, however, and the influence of their movements studied and codified in several systems of astrology. The Sindran system – a syncretistic goulash of diverse forms – is the one most wizards regard as definitive for use in alchemy, dweomercræft, and gambling. The Realms of Dream: Just as not all souls wander to Yem, not all sleepers drift to the same dream-realm. Some realms are small, some vast. Some exist for a single dream and a single dreamer; others endure, and gather millions every night. Some of the greater realms are ruled by dreamlords, and some dream-lords … aren’t nice. A few, too, are worshiped by cults in the waking world, and one such, in temples along the Elu coast of Sindra, have a reputation so unsavory that even the tolerant Sindran wizards are seeking their destruction. In the last two generations, a new form of wizard has emerged – involuntarily – in response to dream-realm magics. These High Dreamers come from all walks of Uresian life, and most live unaware of their potential. When three High Dreamers meet face-to-face, however, the trio are activated, bonded, and immediately hunted by some of the more hostile dream-realm forces … stalked to the ends of the grave by possessed creatures in their waking hours, fighting for their souls in shared nightmares when they dare to slumber. Shah Mezaan of Boru, fascinated by dream magic and the mystery of the High Dreamers, declared himself to be one on the advice of one of his seers, who insist that his trio will meet and bond on some future night when “the air grows still, the singers weep, and wine spills on the throne.” To date, this prophecy has come to nothing but a frequently wine-stained throne, but the Shah keeps an adventureready rucksack packed at all times, and gathers dream-savvy wizards to his court whenever his spies hear tell of more.

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T

his timeline includes nearly every dated event (no matter how trivial or mundane) referred to in this book, a few from other Uresia sources, and a few which (at present) are exclusive to the timeline itself. As a result, reading it straight through may feel a bit bizarre … but it’s a useful tool when assembling the history of a new character or adventure locale, and may even inspire a few adventures on its own. Dates are in Nonathorian reckoning, the closest thing Uresia has to a “standard” calendar (see page 16).

Year Event 0:0:0: Date set by Sindran scholars as the probable time of the Skyfall. The events prior to the Sindran “scholarly revolution” circa 500 are matters of speculation; the early kingdoms were struggling for survival, and made little use of writing. 300: The rise of the Dreed Republic. 450: Sindra establishes itself as a united country; Laöch begins to overshadow Orgalt. 481: King Voghard of Skalsa dies; Heltish neighbours conquer Skalsa shortly thereafter, ending the last human-dominated realm in Helt (This date is Heltish tradition; early Dreed and Sindran scrolls acknowledge the existence of Skalsa but nothing survives that can confirm the date of Voghard’s demise). 500: The height of the “scholarly revolution” in Sindra, in which many of the foundations of modern science and scholarship are established. 500: The modern calendar developed by Nonathor of Sindra, the “father of history.” Many now believe that his estimate of the Skyfall as “five hundred years gone” was fanciful, and possibly inaccurate by more than a thousand years. 524: The Dreed Republic formally colonizes Temphis. Prior to this, Temphis is believed to have served as a wilderness haven for runaway criminals for many years. 531: Temphisian colonists send their Dreed governors home in small casks (three casks per governor), setting the tone for the spirit of independence that defines Temphis to this day. 616: Winnow introduces the traditional Maid uniform, used by most orders of Magic Maids to this day.


649: Earliest written reference to Shadow River recorded in the logs of the Dark Opal, a Sindran vessel that discovered the “robust village” while following one of the flying islands at sea. 700: The last days of Orgalt’s wealth. From this point on, Laöch’s dominance is complete, and Orgalt is left out of direct involvement in the growing network of Inner Sea commerce. 714: The Dungeons of Vasalt discovered beneath ruins on hills overlooking Lake Rund, in Helt. While hundreds of such “heaven-tombs” are known, the Vasalt dungeons are still the largest intact cluster yet discovered. New networks of tunnels have been discovered in the Vasalt ruins as recently as 1301. 718: Birth-year of the oldest Elf living in the Volenwood, the sorceress Nyessa. 740: The approximate beginning of the pirate career of famed captain “Barley John” Crode, traditionally recognized as the inventor of Mizzenjib, and thus as the father of nonsensical nautical terminology. 755: Last known sightings of pirate captain “Barley John” Crode (see 740). His final fate remains unknown. 821: Elsa Dondertys “invents” the Vaussburg sport of waterfall climbing. 876: Three witches working as maids in the service of Batigua, fifth Lord of Localona, found the first order of magic maids. 903: The Fogport Treaties: Diplomats from Dreed, Rinden, Winnow, Boru, Sindra, Laöch and Koval gather in Temphis for the first recorded summit dedicated to international trade. 912: Malor takes on the mantle of Dread King of Yem. 1014: Coatestown established, a small fortified cove (the current citadel and foreign-quarter walls are mostly the original town walls). 1024: Shadow River declared “a pit of evil” by the Sisters of Tela. 1044: The barons of Celar are united under King Ordelweiss. 1059: First university founded in the Rindenland (at Reed Hill), beginning the rapid growth of scholarship beyond Sindra. 1109: Tiny, the Copper Metal Slime, becomes the first known slime noble, in Winnow.

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Timeline of Noted Events

1147: Duke Urleg becomes Lord Governor of Shadow River. 1165: Duke Urleg dies. 1183: The last Orgaltish Dwarf of Clan Gunwar dies, rendering one of the great clans of old Orgalt as, exclusively, one of the great clans of Laöch. 1184: Gallkor of Koval proves the principles of what will become modern naval navigation. 1190: Duke Orgo abolishes trial-by-combat in Shadow River, turning the arena over to non-lethal sporting events. 1197: Coatestown’s citadel is constructed, along with the expanded walls encompassing what is now Tall Town. 1199: Koval Emperor Gustigus constructs the beginnings of the Mad Maze, according to legend. 1202: Grail Park is constructed in Shadow River. 1210: The trapped bodies of Ondro and Beshek are discovered, secretly, in the Volenwood (on the future site of the town of Delerain). 1214: The Moonstones, the key to the Lenthan Gates, are first discovered. 1221: Duke Orgo dies; Lord Governor Quain reinstates trial-by-combat in Shadow River. 1233: At Sindra’s insistence, Dreed gemcutters finally agree on standards of emerald color and symmetry. 1236: Approximate year in which Uresia crossed the “1% urban” threshold. 1238: A band of Winnowite spies smuggles a live female Glossy Dawn Weaver (silk spider) from Boru, along with a trio of teenagers versed in spider sericulture, ending Boru’s monopoly on the spider-silk trade. 1250: A ferocious multi-hued puppy claiming to be “Prism Bright” (the pet of the dead goddess Leyn) is slain by the Minotaur Hero, Vasalt Haggarty, in a colony in the Elu Isles. 1261: Laöch begins building new railroads. 1273: The Laöchrian rail-building frenzy is settled to where distinct “rail barons” run and compete for dominance. 1277: Lady Ephemeran of Winnow begins taking demon lovers. 1288: Coatestown’s walls now encompass the “Downhill Quarter” west of the Cresting Wall, joining with and further fortifying the hospital-temple of the Boradrans. 1291: Sindra recognizes Boru as a place of High Magic. 1294: Village of Mullinham granted recognition by the Lyrian church of Eagan (will later become Rogan’s Heath). 1299: Shadow River’s “Vine Bridge Project” begins. 1306: New Town establishes itself as a prosperous new Shadow River neighborhood. 1308: Madwoman Voriis ascends to the Koval throne. 1308: Madwoman Voriis slaughters much of Birah, inspiring the Wild Pact.


1310: According to tale-tellers’ legends, this is the year in which Gundel Horad became Supreme Trickster without uttering a word. 1318: Orliss takes the mantle of Dread Prince of Yem, succeeding Dread King Malor. Necromancer Desarak poisons himself. 1319: Urio and Vitassi invent the modern printing press, in Koval. 1320: Madwoman Voriis “dies in her sleep,” succeeded by her brother-in-law, Brovor XXII, who immediately begins plotting even grander and madder plans of empire. 1322: King Timberfell IV of Dreed is born on another world. 1325: Koval, under Brovor XXII, begins a war of expansion, the beginning of what history calls the Koval Wars. 1332: King Bellhammer of Laöch adopts Blind Owl city as the new Laöchrian capitol. 1333: Black Skull, a Heltish pantherman, begins what will become an infamous career as a pirate. 1334: Coatestown’s walls completed to their current extents, following negotiations with Archmage Brunath. 1335: In Rinden, some young pages are now groomed as Emerald Knights in the earliest days of their training. 1336: The Monster Conquering Heroes break up; Deana and Verna settle in the Rindenland. 1337: Timberfell IV marries into the Dreed royal family, named as Timberfell III’s only successor. 1341: The current version of the Shadow River Citadel is completed, replacing the old walls entirely and augmenting many of the earlier structures. 1342: The infamous Duke of Storms, Ropha VIII, wrests control of Temphis from Borcha III. 1345: Timberfell III dies in an unfortunate and difficult-todescribe pudding accident. 1348: The isle of Brown Button spotted off the Temphis coast, where it hadn’t been before. 1349: Four of the Kovali Emperor’s finest (Rastaban Rexus, Punitor Adagio, Xamentar Vortur and Gragero Fyria) die in glorious service to the Empire (officially). 1350: Birah gains independence from Koval, taking advantage of its thinned-out home defenses. 1351: Brovor XXII murdered by his wife, who claims the mantle as Empress Zora, the final imperial ruler of Koval. 1351: Burle’s father, Daniel, murders a priest in Rogan’s Heath. 1351: Multiple, unexplained mass murders aboard caravels label this year the Year of Curses among sailors. 1351: The caravel Poison Pepper sets sail under her original master, Caecus Comstock. 1352: Koval retreats entirely, a ruined shell of a wicked kingdom. Molandi royal family ascends to rule. 1353: Black Skull builds the Skull’s Hatch tavern in Shadow River, as well as a secret network of tunnels. 1354: Duke “Iron Hook” Harridan of the Duchy of Bells (Temphis), grants governorship of the Isle of Afton to

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his brother, who begins quietly fortifying the island as a pirate stronghold. 1355: Lord Hoggart is granted Rogan’s Heath. 1357: “Bread, Wine & Wizardry,” by Sindran Chief Councilman Mullanis Graff, published. 1357: The freetown of Shipwreck Harbor changes its chartered name to Honest Harbor (Temphis). 1359: The small Isle of Afton (Temphis) no longer exists. The court at the Duchy of Bells makes it a habit to refuse comment, and behave as if the island never existed. 1362: Soubrette Lynx, magic maid aboard Poison Pepper, is born in Waybrook, Duchy of Keyroe, Temphis. 1364: The Candlestaff opens for business, West Gate district, Shadow River. 1366: The Council of Passion makes the “sand witches” joke unfunny by law. 1368: Celebrated adventuress “Grandma” Lafe August dies, Shadow River, leaving controversy over a map memorializing some of her exploits. 1369: A spacecraft crashes in the southern Troll Lands, near some Mummy Towns. Pyxis Four is the ship’s robot. 1370: King Timberfell IV renames Dreed’s principal cities. 1370: The caravel Bloody Promise gains minor infamy as an Elu pirate ship. 1371: Gottle House opened, New Town, Shadow River. 1371: Micus the Potter sets up shop in Shadow River. 1372: Plurt encounters (and, for a while, joins forces with) the Liberty Brotherhood. 1372: The fanciful kingdom of “Feemerlund,” along with its magnificent gumdrop citadel, is finally and regretfully removed from King Argot’s highly secret World Census by the embarassed spies who compile it. 1373: DuBrow Coronet and his family move to Rogan’s Heath. 1373: Quakes in Lochria awaken a flight of dragons, resulting in the siege of Coatestown. 1374: Burle’s father dies of old age in Rogan’s Heath. 1374: The siege of Coatestown ends. 1375: Captain Auriga Buckler purchases the caravel Thanatopsis, and re-christens it under its original name, Poison Pepper.


1375: Soubrette Lynx enters training with the Malbarion Hospitality Guild. 1375: The owner of the Candlestaff (Shadow River) installs a suggestion box. 1376: Plurt staked out by/rescues/imprisoned by Imp Assassin Zumi. 1376: The death of the Duke of Storms sparks a summer of war in Temphis, but his youngest son, Ropha IX of Keyroe, emerges as the new Grand Duke. 1377: Tremors near Longport herald the reawakening of a nearby volcano. 1377: Wrangler Dunley dies of pneumonia, Rogan’s Heath. Cal Tallwater takes over responsibility for the tending of Lord Hoggart’s grounds. 1378: Duke Faem has the Shadow River gallows moved from the park on Gallows Road to the city marketplace. 1378: Romantic cat-burglar “The Owl” begins a crimespree in Shadow River’s “Old City” quarter (summertime). 1378: Soubrette Lynx completes her training as a certified magic maid for the Malbarion Hospitality Guild. 1378: The Temple of the Sisters of Fair Judgment (west Dreed) gutted by assassins. Nearly every priest is killed, for reasons still unknown. 1378: Dain Olivette of Rogan’s Heath begins his efforts (in considerable earnest) to found “The Knights of Rogan.” 1379: A high wind sets sails ablaze at the Elu Flotilla, torching 30 vessels and resulting in hundreds of deaths. 1379: According to rumors among dungeon-delvers, a gateway to the ruins of Baltaan is discovered somewhere in southern Noitan (Boru’s larger island). 1379: Samaref, a notorious feline sneak-thief and pirate, takes haven in Rogan’s Heath, posing as a less vocal gray longhair. 1379: Seventeen “sisters” at the Marvo Ruins (Celar) destroy themselves in grief this winter. 1379: The unfortunate “thinking about soup” incident, in one of Duke Faem’s quarries near Shadow River. 1379: The winners of the year’s Thuriad form a band of Loreseekers. 1380: Present day.

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Delvers & Daredevils

H

eaven’s grave provides a broad palette from which to paint new Player Characters. Whether you’re in the mood to play a comfortable standby (a chainmail-suited warrior, a beardy cryptic sorcerer, a snooty Elf) or something a little more outré (the ghost of a mutant Troll slave trained to be cruel before he was vanquished and resurrected in a snow sculpture of a kitten and given as a pet to a gypsy Slime family who taught him to play the sitar and love again) there’s an adventuring troupe, somewhere, that needs you. And in the darkness of a mountain ruin, pretty much every kind of delver screams just as loudly – and just as briefly – when the end finds them. But that’s getting ahead of ourselves. This chapter explores topics important to character creation, no matter which set of rules you’re using. We’ll explore facts, wild rumors and hard choices relating to your character’s race (below), homeland (page 78), spellcasting abilities (page 79), unusual talents (page 85), money and equipment (page 87), name (page 94) and background (page 98).

This section touches on the most popular PlayerCharacter races. Read it to get a feel for the kinds of people you’ll encounter most often, but as with your choice of homeland, there are paths beyond the norm. Somewhere, surely, there are two-headed giants who can heal with songs, a remote valley inhabited for centuries by secretive pygmy dragon-men, or a magic sword that flies and wisecracks and seeks a worthy wielder. Alternatively, you might prefer to play a vampire, an automaton, a water spirit, or a member of a race entirely of your own devising. Heaven’s grave is richly magical, and anyone might walk (or slide, or fly, or slither) through the tavern door.

Beastmen (the Hramath) Lochria and the kingdoms of Helt (page 18) are home to dozens of races of Beastmen: hybrid races ranging from the agile Creesh to the burly Minotaur. Each Beastman race has its own name and its own nature, but the collective Heltish word is Hramath, meaning simply: “ancients.” The term’s popularity hints at the sense of unity binding all the Beastmen races. Many Hramath have claws, beaks, tusks and other martial features, but cultural habit varies on the matter of “natural weaponry.” In some cultures, skill with tooth and claw are matters of great pride. In others, blunted claws are a matter of civilized deportment, and to enter a fight biting and scratching is nothing better than brute savagery. Some of these attitudes are, regrettably, down to concern for the opinions of non-Hramath races, so some Beastmen defy convention as a personal statement, or because they really don’t care what others think.

Most Beastmen enjoy a well-rounded suite of superior senses: sharp eyes with strong night vision, excellent hearing, keen smell (able to detect fear, recent passage, etc), and the gift of Mistress Tanica Grym, Elf Sight – an ability to sense the presence In the Shaporan Hills of Helt, there are Queen of Gryphon Bay of magic and spirits. This latter is usually remote valleys where Rhinomen and rudimentary (requiring a quiet pause to sense anything Panthermen spar and laugh and doubt the rest of the specific), but even at the level of instinct it contributes to world exists. Humans? Everyone’s heard of them, but the an impressive overall awareness. While different beastShaporan Hills are green with moss and black with rocks, races have different perceptual strengths (the Adlet have a and those things are real. Conversely, in the crowded stronger sense of smell than the Aracor, etc), it’s a general Human cities of Koval, Rhinomen, Serpent-Men and truth that few details escape the Hramath. Penguin Sea-Monsters may be dismissed as myth.

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Most are naturally athletic, able to run and leap as dramatically as Elf-kind. Also like Elves, they have a natural comfort and empathy with wild things.

Adolescence As a general rule, longer lifespan does not equate to a longer childhood or adolescence. A teenager is a teenager, whether adulthood stretches to 40 years or 400. For the most part, the transitions of early life are comparable across every race of Man and Troll. Exceptions (the giant wood-ogres of Celar are the adolescent stage of the gentle and tiny garden midge of Celar) are rare (and in the case of the garden midge, nobody believes it anyway, so they tend their peas and cabbages while keeping their memories of ravaging the countryside quietly to themselves).

Beasts, Wise Just as there are adventuring Dwarves and Elves, there are adventuring cats, bears, turtles and fish … Every beast in Uresia is at least a little smarter than Men give them credit for. Even scatterbrained creatures like honeybees and small birds can hold a conversation with a wizard, if the wizard’s lore includes a smattering of buzzing and chirping. Most animal “culture” is very primitive, however, and individual beasts tend to be simple- and single- minded. Wise Beasts – animals as bright as any of the races of mankind – are considered rare, though legends abound of their activities, including tales of the beastly monarchs, holding court in the wild, ruling over their own kind.

Legends & Rumors: The Raansa Several “lost races” legends are inevitable, given the apocalyptic nature of the world’s history and the racial variety of the survivors. So far, only one such legend seems certainly true: that of the delicatelooking Raansa, the people of the wind. The Raansa built things that survived the Skyfall well enough to be identified, and these things survived, mostly, in Temphis.

The line between truth and legend has been fragmenting for centuries, as the winds of magic bring change. Every year, more rats, dogs, cats, squirrels, bears, foxes, snakes and others are born completely aware. Driven by curiosity, many of these venture out to learn languages, meet others like themselves, and form societies – societies the world of men is scarcely aware of. The Rats of Dreed (page 14) are probably the largest such society – amounting to a secret kingdom-within-a-kingdom. And since rats are ubiquitous in the holds of seagoing vessels, it’s a kingdom with colonies, spreading Rattish society quietly to the sewers and rafters of ports across the grave. Also notable are the Creesh lands of Helt, where feline Wise Beasts are openly and ubiquitously mingled and allied with their upright Hramath cousins. Wise Beasts don’t walk upright (though some can manage it for short periods, with discomfort), and don’t normally speak to men – though most are able to. Outside Helt, many Uresians respond to talking animals with torches and pitchforks, so the Wise Beasts choose their bipedal friends carefully, and keep a “dumb animal” act when strangers are near. Some make a point of befriending wizards, and some study magic themselves. Many travel the world in hopes of learning why they were born brighter than others who look like them. Most are born with awareness comparable to a human age 2 or 3, and learn quickly. They age similarly to their less-aware brethren toward adulthood, but once adults, they can live for decades, just as men do.

Centaurs Most of the Hramath are approximately Humanoid; Centaurs are the most numerous exceptions. They and the Satyrs populate the Lochrian regions of Helt, but they also have villages – dominated by large communal longhouses – on more than half the islands in heaven’s grave. Centaurs and Satyrs get along well as neighbors but mix only in town or on the road. Satyrs settle most often in rough country (rocky hills and dense woodlands) while


In the largest Raansa ruin – a half-sunken city and complex of dangerous tunnels high in the Letar Hills – there are hundreds of toppled statues carved from lead, revealing the Raansa (or at least their self-image) as very tall, thin people with angular features, wide, curious eyes, delicately small mouths, and elongated hands. There are only scattered clues left to describe their nature, but they seem to have worshiped wind and rain gods above all, and had a fondness for brutal-looking long axes. Modern weapons based on ancient Raansa designs are popular in Gryphon Rock, and rumors persist of genuine Raansa blades – enchanted and with hafts of iron – found in the ruins by adventurers years ago. Most images of the Raansa imply that they were supernaturally strong. Centaurs prefer Lochria’s grasslands and valleys. Centaurs can be frustrated by town life in most countries, where the structures (and specifically, stairs and doorways) aren’t designed with their size and locomotion in mind. In Lochria, and in the Elvish lands, the towns are more accommodating. While Satyrs are more infamous for “appetites” of every kind, a Centaur really can eat like a horse, and some revel with gusto in chorea holg (“passion for the feast” in Lochrian Heltish). In Dreed, Centaur imagery is common in heraldry, where their capacity for ale, as well as food, earns them considerable admiration. Some Centaurs, especially those who do sedentary work as merchants or sages (etc), overeat to their detriment. The Human arms and upper torso of a Centaur aren’t much stronger than that of a normal man, but the equine

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some metals are especially pleasing to Dwarves. Silver is the most comforting – it smells delicious, rings with soft tones in the ear, and fills most Dwarves with a sense of centered calm. Gold smells of woodsmoke and snow, and glows with its own gentle light that other races perceive only indirectly. While most metals are in some way pleasant to Dwarves (the wet-grass smell of tin, the heady musk of zinc, the faint coffee-chocolate whiff of copper), some alloys are offensive to them (some of the cheaper Boru brasses and bronzes, for example, smell like a warm stew of skunk-musk, yak-dung and pitch).

Demons Among Men Most Demon PCs will be either from Winnow (where demons are secretly integrated into the entire kingdom) or Sindra (where summoned demons are sometimes invited to stick around and make their way in the world). “Demon” can mean just about any extra-dimensional visitor; some have extraordinary magic powers and wild appearances; some are just people very far from home. Most of the Winnowite demons are very Human (sometimes approximately Elvish) in appearance, with only gentle clues (brightly-colored hair is common) too common for anyone to regard them as unusual. Many Winnowite demons are aware of their special heritage and keep it a secret with little trouble. Quite a few aren’t aware … and may reveal their nature to others, accidentally, before they notice it themselves! Playing a demon who doesn’t know he’s a demon can be high drama or low comedy, as the players prefer.

There are several Dwarf races, but the differences are mostly invisible to non-Dwarves: subtle variations in height, coloration, and beard growth. The most noticeable exceptions are probably the Draume, an ethnic group found almost entirely in Laöch today (in Orgalt, they’re enslaved and diminishing – Nameless all). The Draume are shorter than most Dwarves, favor midlands over high mountains, and change visibly with the seasons: a Draume’s beard grows glossy brown in summer, bone white in winter. Some Humans call them “Stoat Dwarves.” Dwarf-Cousins: Dwarves keep ties with an assortment of earth spirits (some of whom are household ghosts in Dwarf settlements), and with some fairy-races associated with flame, smoke and ember. The Dwarves may be kin to some of these, including the Gnomes: foot-high, wizened spirit-creatures formed of the living earth who (by their own inexplicable account) can experience time sideways when they care to. Most Gnomes live alone or in isolated villages high in the mountains or deep in caves, but a few Gnomes take menial jobs in Dwarvish towns, for their own reasons. Some take up residence in Skyfall ruins (including allegedly “unexplored” ones), and that’s where most adventurers encounter them.

half provides extraordinary body strength, the equal of a horse when hauling loads, carrying riders, or tugging doors or prison bars (with the aid of a rope). This power aside, most Centaurs are rightly offended to be treated as a beast of burden. If you want a Centaur to haul something for you, ask nicely. Centaurs are more peaceable than many races (reputation to the contrary, in many lands), but an angered one is a dangerous foe, even if unarmed.

Dwarves (the Galt Hranach)

Elves

Short, broad, determined. Their kingdoms in Orgalt and Laöch are among the oldest established cultures, and the Dwarves were hoisting banners from castles when Humans were still “toweling themselves off” from the Skyfall (at least, that’s a central theme in Dwarf legend). They refer to their own race as the Galt Hranach, the “men of the foundations,” or simply as the Galt. Dwarves are reasonably close kin to Humans, though, with only a few distinct features beyond their shape. They’re hardier than most men, with extraordinary nightvision and an almost unerring sense of direction (even in a dark cavern). Kin spiritually to mineral matter, they can consume seawater as safely as fresh, but prefer fermented drink in any case … Dwarves would insist that they can out-drink any man or Elf, but that’s down to robust constitution and lots of practice, not any racial affinity for alcohol (and it falls apart entirely in Celar, where an ordinary barmaid can embarrass many a Dwarf with her capacity). Dwarves age at the same rate as Humans, but live longer – often by several decades. Dwarves have an uncanny sense for metal and stone; both the materials and the spirits that sometimes dwell within them. Earthy materials affect all a Dwarf’s senses … every kind of metal and stone has a scent, for example, and a flavor. For the most part, these things are subtle, but


Elves are slightly smaller and leaner than most Humans, and appear youthful to Human eyes, even when they’re very old. A typical Elf is graceful, energetic, curious, and closer to the mysteries of nature than most. They’re occasionally snooty. Everybody finds them sexy except Dwarves. The subtleties of Elvish society bewilder outsiders. One reason is that Elvish society isn’t just “Elvish,” but rather the one visible facet of a private society of woodland fairy-races. Out of all these – Sylphs, Leprechauns, Pixies and more – the Elves are the most Human, forming a social bridge between the world of man and the twilight fairy-world. They’re the tip of a cultural iceberg some dismiss as imaginary. The Elves and their kind are the faces and voices of nature. This relationship (too weak a term, really) expresses itself very differently in each of Uresia’s Elvish lands. In Anandriel, the Elves embody the tranquility of the wood; its regal gentleness and timeless delights. In Birah, the Duandralin have come to embody the savagery and danger of the wild. Some Birah Elves consider it a necessary balance. They consider the Wild Pact a symptom, rather than a cause.

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Elves have hearing twice as sensitive as most men, and all their senses are attuned to magic, allowing them to see the shimmer of enchantments, feel strong emotions from spirits, and detect local shifts in the invisible currents of the world. They also have an easy empathy with anything living wild. They can leap to the treetops with minimal effort, and run swiftly across a crust of snow without breaking through.

Playing Dead The Snowmen (see page 74) are one example of ghosts as a playable “race,” but most Uresian ghosts don’t animate a physical form. Ghosts drift invisibly through every part of heaven’s grave, clustering for the most part near living people. Most ghosts haunt in absolute secrecy – no chills, no clanking chains, no moans of misery, no fluttering candles. Some are bound to very limited areas; some wander the world freely. Some ache for release to oblivion, some are content in their lot, and some don’t realize they’re dead. Yemite Necromancers and others attuned to the dead can – if they squint just right – spot as many dead souls in a crowd as living ones.

Elves are naturally youthful and fit. Elves age exactly like Humans for the first few years of their lives, but the process begins to slow (comparatively) between the ages of 11 and 14. By the time an Elf is 30 years old, he looks as old as he’s going to look for centuries – outwardly resembling a healthy, wide-eyed Human just shy of adulthood. For most of their lives, Elves look 15-20 years old in Human terms. Age returns to find them between the ages of 300 and 400: First, their hair turns snowy white, then the bloom of youth fades gradually. Most Elves born today will expire somewhere near their 500th year. Elves usually die in the deep of winter, when the magic of the forest ebbs – an Elf of any age has a more resilient lifeforce in summertime. Physically, Elves are delicate. Fortunately, they’re nimble enough to make up for it most of the time, but they’re still endangered in the violent realms of others. Ordinary Dwarf and Human workers have tavern-brawls to vent steam, for example, but a lucky bottle-smash that would put a Human on bed-rest could slaughter an Elf where he stands. Socially, Elves stand apart from other races, partly by choice and partly from prejudice. They’re not very good at understanding non-Elvish culture, and they’re self-conscious of how silly it looks when they try. They’re also so sexy that widespread fetishizing of Elves is an annoyance and even a danger … their youthful beauty nets them an awkward blend of resentment, condescension, and outright worship which drives a wedge into any hope of ordinary relations with others. Their long lifespan drives a second wedge, because they give love easily, but have trouble coping with mortal loss. So, Elves distance themselves when they can, and their private melancholy grows more acute thanks to a kind of “survivor’s guilt,” and the concern that they aren’t naturally equipped, emotionally, for their own longevity (see page 33).

Humans Humans are the race most familiar to the reader, so they provide a baseline for describing all others. This is partly down to convenience, but it reflects a similar bias present in heaven’s grave, where Humans are more numerous than other races, and less likely to keep to themselves. As a result, they are the noisiest, pushiest, and most oftenencountered race of men. Humans are not, however, a “baseline” in any other sense, and there are many colorful beliefs about how Humans came to be. The broad consensus is that, in the world before the Skyfall, Humans were less important and less visible. Both Elves and Dwarves entertain the idea that Humans were some kind of watered-down servantrace created by Elf or Dwarf magic. The word “Human”


In some campaigns, ghosts make excellent Player Characters. Like many overtly magical creatures, they may be friends of (or even summoned by) the party wizard. Some can become visible, some few can make themselves heard, and some can only influence the world indirectly, through ghostly magics. Sometimes, too, the in-game death of a mortal Player Character can be a beginning … of a new career as an adventuring spectre. The GM should establish, in secret, the general odds of a slain adventurer becoming a ghost, and check in secret whenever a PC is killed. may well be a corruption of “Ha’man” (Half-Man), a reference to the Hramath belief that Humans are descended from unfortunate Beastmen born “blank,” incomplete, without a soul-link to the wild (some Beastmen also call Elves and Dwarves “Ha’men,” confusing the matter). A Troll legend popular in Boru tavern tales is that the earliest Humans were a gift from the Troll gods, to be used as toys (specifically, as punching bags).

Mushroom Trolls (the Mourfa) The fungus men of the North Forest of Sindra are called “Mushroom Trolls,” but the Mourfa are no kin to Trolls at all; they feel the tug towards heaven’s grave if they venture beyond the Divide. These anthropomorphic mushroom people range in size from half a stride to more than 20 feet tall, and sport huge, colorful head-caps with a variety of patterns and textures. They claim to be aboriginal natives, to have never sailed inward from the Troll Lands … but if that were true, they would almost have to be creatures from the former realms of heaven. Mushroom Trolls tend to be primitive agrarians and good citizens. They’re more graceful than they appear, with physical characteristics comparable to a Human of the same height. All of them can separate from their bodies in a meditative state (traveling as swift globes of astral light). They can see (and even perceive color) in near-total darkness, and sense the presence of strong magics and spirits. They’re very slow swimmers, but almost impossible to sink. Their favorite wines are dangerously (but enjoyably) hallucinogenic to other races.

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Snowmen (Ice Spectres) These are ghosts with bodies of snow, summoned either accidentally or maliciously by the natives of Yem. Snowmen aren’t a true race; they can be the ghosts of any mortal being … there are Snowmen who were Dwarves in life, for example, and Snowmen who were Slimes. Thalon (page 36) is a notable example of an ice spectre that was once a dragon … the only known icedragon at the moment, but not the only one ever and probably not the last, despite the law.

Many Snowmen suffer additional disabilities of form … Human souls, in particular, can be summoned into even the crudest snow-sculpture of a person, so some are little more than lumpy, crippled mockeries (and while Snowmen can be forcibly re-shaped, their true shape remains the one they were summoned into, and any changes can do as much harm as good). In bygone eras, when the Necromancers made Snowmen openly, carving attractive snow-statue bodies was a respected art form. Today, most Snowmen are accidents made by children, or slave-ghosts summoned with cruel disregard by outlaw necromancers.

Every Snowman has a number of special abilities and features. Most of these are natural by-products of their makeup (being snow, most can hide small objects in their bodies, for example – and being ghosts, they These intelligent drops of thick goo are don’t age or get sick or worry about breathing). typically beach-ball sized, but some As long as a Snowman’s body remains at unusual Slimes are as tiny as thimble least partly intact, it can’t be dissipated or as large as a house. Slimes have a (“killed”): a snowman can be chopped, distinctive onion/teardrop/pork-bun carved, smashed and shoveled and shape. Slime races are distinguished – provided he gets a few moments’ by color, from the common opaque peace – he can simply re-shape Blue, Black, and Yellow Slimes to himself and patch his body with fresh the rarer metallic and translucent snow taken from the ground. Only varieties (including Gold, Copper, the total disruption of form deand Emerald Slimes). Slimes that stroys the link between the ghost look like valuable substances aren’t and the snow, and the greatreally made of them … Gold Metal est threat to a Snowman’s Slimes aren’t made of gold, and (most existence is heat. Snowmen important) Emerald Slimes aren’t have no special ability to magical batteries (see Emeralds, page avoid melting, so 86) … but as adventurers familiar they must “keep with Sindra can attest, unscrupulous to the winter,” sorcerers keep using them that way making their anyway, and many an Emerald way to spots high Slime village has gone squeaking in the mountains, desperately for the help of passing deep in the north, or heroes to rescue kidnapped brethren both, else they don’t from a lawless wizard. Slimes are made survive the season of slime, a shiny colloidal goop which they’re created in. defies sensible categories. Snowmen exist both Slimes communicate telepathically on the mortal plane with one another (and with other and the ghostly one, telepaths), adding emphasis with so they can see other meaningful squeaks and tones. Slimes ghosts (of any kind) communicate with everyone else by plainly and without effort. Like squeaking only (with the occasional other ghosts, Snowmen often lack whole-body gesture when matters are Yemite Children Are Forbidden the ability to speak, though some study From Granting The Gift of “Life” urgent)! Some Slime varieties have small magic to overcome this. Snowmen have wings and can fly, but most are wingno innate telepathy unless they had it in less and scoot merrily along the ground life. Those few who trust the company of the living of(Celari scholars classify Slimes as pygiapods, or “ass-footten seek out wizards who can communicate with them. ed,” while Slimes classify Celari scholars as pygiacephalic). The most overtly magical power of the Snowman is the Slimes have large, expressive eyes and no apparent apFrostbite Grip; a deliberate touch of freezing death that pendages or mouth (though they can definitely bite, and “burns cold,” and continues to crack flesh for agonizing form suggestive facial expressions when they care to). moments after the touch withdraws. Ordinary armor Slimes are soft and elastic (most can force themselves offers only limited protection … a Snowman’s touch can under a doorway if the door isn’t too snug to the be as deadly as a sword or axe, but the Grip requires a ground), but they aren’t quite as fluid as they look. shred of the spectre’s own soul to power the magic – a Slimes can be bound and caged, as witnesses to the resource slow to rebuild itself. tragic Slime Circus of Orgalt will attest. Slimes are fluid

Slimes


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enough to be very resilient, however: many attacks simply slide or slosh through harmlessly, and they can recover from nearly any non-lethal wound in less than an hour. Slime density and opacity varies by species, but further varies by emotional state (a calm Slime is dense and opaque compared to a similar Slime in a lather of terror, anger, or other excitement).

A Different World, For Everyone

While some of the most notorious criminals and pirates in Uresia have been Slimes (and mad “feral Slimes” wander remote regions), Slimes are mellow and good-natured as a rule, and don’t bother building kingdoms or declaring borders. The most complex unit of Slime society is the Slime town; their loftiest title is normally ‘Mayor.’ In 1109 in Winnow, Tiny the Copper Metal Slime (a forty-ton Slime the size of a peasant hut) earned ducal lands in Winnow for saving a Prince’s daughter from goblins. Tiny had no wife or children, so he bequeathed the holding back to the Prince when he grew too old to manage it. A colossal marble statue of Tiny decorates the castle yard still. There are many Slime races (and a few sub-races), each with a distinct magical ability according to color. Most Slime villages and towns are “monochrome,” composed of a single type (all purple, all copper, etc.) but “polychrome” towns may be found in Sindra, Dreed and the Rindenland. A handful of port cities feature “Slimetowns” of a different sort – Slime-dominated ethnic neighborhoods. Urban “Slimetowns” tend to be polychrome, but are often dominated by a single-color majority. The magic powers of the most well-known Slime races are: � Black Slimes: The dreaded Swarming Bandit Slime can fragment itself into a huge mass of miniatures of itself, attacking foes from multiple directions as a one-Slime horde! Their criminal reputation is exaggerated, based on the activities of a few Black Slime criminals who’ve achieved infamy for their misdeeds. Most Black Slimes just daydream about becoming pirates or bandits, and act it out when they think nobody’s looking. Black Slimes born with additional adhesion powers are called Tar Slimes.

� In a shadowy realm just at the edge of vision, ghosts wander the streets and sit thinking atop garden walls. A Yemite necromancer can stop, refocus his vision, and see them. � Beneath the floorboards and down to the sewers, clever rats maintain their own miniature, discreet civilizations. But only the Rats – and their friends and enemies – notice the scurry of fur and tail and know what’s really going on. � On the rooftops, Gargoyle society is simple ... but there are still heroes, villains, culture, and petty politics that non-Gargoyles don’t understand and seldom look upwards to notice. � The Gargoyles walk the same shingles as the burglars, but most Gargoyles fail to spot the sigils the thieves mark on chimneys and manorgates, or the meaningful glances between Lord Filnit’s gardener and a dapper “gentleman” strolling the boulevard casing for a caper ... � The rich Adlet merchant strolling in the other direction, though, can smell the trepidation of the finely-dressed criminal, peering past his faux-genteel exterior. Furthermore, he can spot the telltale signs of cheaper craftsmanship on the “gentleman’s” silk cloak – beginning with the brass neckpin any worldly merchant might peg as a shoddy Boru trinket from the Wendersea Trading Company.

� White Slimes: Also known as Savant Slimes or Ivory Slimes, the White Slimes are the only nonmetal Slimes that aren’t a distinct race. Rather, the child of any Slime union may be born snowwhite, indicating that part of it exists in the stream of eternal consciousness. Such Slimes are often brilliantly intelligent (most Slimes are just smartasses), and may enter the White Slime Trance, where the future reveals itself in cryptic visions. The process is exhausting and disconcerting, so most White Slimes use their powers sparingly … but sometimes, looming dangers or events of great import call the Slimes into a trance spontaneously.

� And then a Dwarf walks by, and wrinkles his nose. He doesn’t suspect the crook, but he wants to avoid him, because that pin smells terrible. Dwarves can’t abide the scent of cheap Boru brass, even in small amounts. From the traditions of ethnic neighborhoods to the raging wars of forest beasts to the radiant flow of magical enchantments to the quiet migrations of beggars, “the” world contains more little worlds than any wanderer can ever know, so your character choice isn’t just about what you can do. No matter what kind of character you choose, you’ll be aware of things others won’t be. Don’t be shy about asking the GM for more of what you see, or about sharing and contrasting with the viewpoints of your comrades. Overlap between perspectives can make otherwise-unlikely friendships bloom, spark hostilities nobody else understands, and – of course – provide new avenues for adventure.

� Purple Slimes: The Friendly Thunder Slimes are normally a bit smaller than other Slimes (about the size of a basketball), but they don’t have to stay that way, especially when friends are threatened! Purple Slimes can magically grow to the height of a full-grown Human in a few blinks of an eye, gaining extraordinary strength, mass (two extra tons) and resilience in the process.


The ability to see the world differently forms a large body of special character abilities worth keeping in mind. Most people wander through many worlds every day, without really thinking of it in those terms, but every Uresian experiences a different Uresia – even from those standing right next to them.

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Just One Slime Secret (Shhh) … Along any rocky coast in Uresia, there are ripplestones: oval beach-rock decorated with rings of wavy grooves. Every Uresian culture has its own legends explaining how the stones come to be. An Elvish legend calls them the tears of a dead seagod’s daughter, and a beloved Dreed folk-song attributes them to friendly “guardian” rats who carve them as gifts to children. Ripple-stones are popular as lucky charms, pendants, and runestones. Several years ago, a hermit wizard hiking the north coast of Boru noticed dozens of ripple-stones near one another … and very near a tiny Emerald Slime settlement. Using magic to observe unseen, he discovered that ripple-stones are created by Slimes, who adjust their buoyancy by taking on (indeed, taking in) beach-rock as ballast. Something caustic within the Slime etches the stones with the telltale ripples. Adult Slimes make a habit of jettisoning the stones in the deep water, but younger Slimes sometimes leave them on the beach, and this hamlet had been blessed with many children. Fascinated, the hermit decided he’d discuss the matter directly with the Slimes … and several of them fainted with embarrassment. The wizard took pity on the blushing Slimes, and so the secrets (and the legends) remain. � Blue Slimes: The Blue Slimes are the gentlest and most artistic of the Slimes, defined by their Love Magic Hug – an enchanted cuddle that warms, heals, and calms anyone they decide to bless with it. Blue Slimes use the Love Magic Hug to aid friends (and strangers) in trouble, but also just to express affection. They’re emotional, prone to sniffling audibly at sad plays and operas. Translucent Blue Slimes (somewhat rare) are called Rain Slimes, Sapphire Slimes, or Water Slimes. � Green Slimes: The quiet and secretive Emerald Slimes are amphibious, softly translucent, and equally comfortable in salt or freshwater. They can dive for hours at a time without surfacing. They are the most elusive of the common Slime varieties, preferring their own company or none at all. Some go off randomly on pilgrimages, perhaps inspired by the Sea Dragon. Some live as hermits along coastlines with pebbly or rocky beaches, where they hoard sand-dollars and stare out to sea. � Yellow Slimes: The charming and musically inclined Winged Slimes enjoy the company of nonSlimes more than most, and are the most common form of Slime in Human and Elvish communities. Their special magic is in their tiny white wings: they can fly a little faster than most Humans can jog.


� Orange Slimes: Mad Digger Slimes are slightly off-kilter, prone to random hooting and squeaking, and sudden, unexpected leering. Most who’ve met them conclude that they’re “touched” by the magic that seeps through crevices underground, where the power of heaven’s grave is stronger than on the surface. Diggers form underground communities, and can often be encountered when exploring subterranean ruins (sometimes as foes). Their magic is Orange Slime Burrowing, the ability to tunnel through solid earth and stone. � Red Slimes: The Racing Slimes consider themselves the noblest of all non-metal Slimes; other Slimes see them as stuck-up. They’re often vain, racing circles around others for the joy of it – their magic is in their incredible speed. An occasional variation is the Magma Slime – a Red Slime that sheds excess heat as it accelerates, sometimes to the point of leaving a trail of flames. � Metal Slimes: Metal Slimes are the rare “princely Slimes” that may be born to any of the normal Slime races. Metal Slimes combine the magical abilities of two Slime colors, and are often the result of mixed marriages. Copper Metal Slimes, the most common of the Metals, combine the traits of both Orange and Black Slimes. Silver Metal Slimes, the “Holy Slimes,” combine White and Blue. Gold Metal Slimes, one of the rarer varieties, combine Yellow and Green. There are Metal Slimes that resemble iron, brass, lead and more, but most are limited to small corners of Uresia and rarely encountered beyond their home villages, where their special powers make them valuable and beloved community-members. � A Rainbow of Slimes: Search Uresia long enough and you’ll meet a Slime of nearly every hue, but most colors are local rarities, sometimes with very unusual abilities (like the time-freezing powers of a Lavender Slime) or variations on their cousins (the Grey Slimes are called Fog Slimes because they can dissolve into a mist of micro-Slimes – really just a fine-grained variation of the Black Slime swarming power). Probably because Slimes don’t speak, there are a lot of different names for them. Most Slimes prefer “Slime,” but most also seem happy to be called Bobbles, Dabs, Drops, Squirts, or Trills (some sailors call them Mizzles). There are, by contrast, a handful of Slime slurs: don’t call them Blobs, Drivels, Globs, Mucks, Oozes, Plops, Puddings, Slops, or Snots unless your intentions are hostile – and your affairs are in order. Slimes live nearly everywhere in Uresia, but they aren’t common anywhere … so a Slime traveling with a company of adventurers may be occasionally be mistaken for a cute pet or a dangerous captured monster (or, in remote parts of Celar, a tasty tube of schleimwurst waiting to happen). Not everyone’s heard of Slime-towns, and many Uresians know Slimes only as aggressors encountered in out-of-the-way places.

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whom was visiting to return a book she’d borrowed as a child. Horrified by the event but determined to set it right, they banded together to investigate. Rather than a lack of leads, they found an abundance of them: leads to grudges by a hundred embittered chefs, several blade-duellists of Fresca’s sort, and assorted thieves, delvers, bounty-hunters and even rival priests. Valued as impartial overseers, Aribiter priesthoods earn their fair share of bile from competitors of every stripe, when the call doesn’t go their way.

Strange Dungeonfellows Tréan Aradam, Acolyte of the Sisters of Fair Judgment, is a priest of the Arbiters (in the guise worshipped in his hometown), and the youngest cleric ever accepted in the Drunken Louts of Bascerly Lane, one of the oldest, loudest, and least-respected private delving clubs in Dreed. He’s been delving dungeons since he was 10 years old … and that’s just two years, so far.

And so, the trio joined adventuring society, downplaying their shared tragedy and purpose. To the delver community, they’re a successful novelty act: they’ve plundered new levels beneath the Ever-Crumbling Mansion of Vanity, rescued emerald miners from sentient floods, and discovered three new Raansa ruins west of Sword Mountain. And of course, given their upbringing, they fight fair. For now.

His companions, a Water Slime named Sluice and a mildly-infamous duellist (Francesca Arturi, a Satyr twice his age) round the troupe into a trio, and whenever they walk into a bar, it’s like the beginning of fifteen different offcolor jokes (that the priest is the underage boy only complicates the comic possibilities). Tréan’s trio chuckle politely at the jests; it’s all just part of the territory. They’re bound by a fairly serious quest, and if that means the company of drunks who don’t understand them, so be it.

And they are – like many delving troupes – a family as much as a band of shieldmates. Francesca is the boy’s guidance, but in just as many ways, she needs him to be hers. Her worldliness, and his naïvete, balance neatly with the mad and caring spirit of the slime who tends both their wounds. Bit by bit and clue by clue, their path (back and forth between the low dives of Dreed and the noble houses of west Temphis) become focused by one salient fact: a hundred or a thousand men may resent their referee, but only very rich and powerful ones can afford groups of professional assassins. They feel closer and closer to the truth, and one day, they might walk into a bar, and for whoever is sitting there, it’ll be no joke at all.

All three of “Tréan’s Trio” were raised as church-orphans at the Sisterhood’s temple in western Dreed, immersed in the lore of the Arbiters, and in the fast-paced world of Indulgence’s competitive cooking scene, where those of their faith serve as respected referees. Of the three, only Tréan took the vows of Fair Judgment, but his companions share his affection for the clerics who fed and protected them. Just over two years ago, assassins slipped into the temple and murdered every single priest. Tréan alone survived, rescued by Sluice and “Fresca,” the latter of Slimes are a bit mysterious, too, even to those who know them. Slimes have no visible hands, and yet there are Slime artworks and handicrafts. Slime towns have cute cottages, inns and shops … but no one ever sees a Slime building these structures. A lot of important Slime activities seem to take place “off screen.” The same sort of mysteries apply to traveling Slimes, who occasionally wander away from their friends for a few minutes or hours, and come back different somehow … wearing something, or visibly battle-worn, or humming a giddy Slime-tune, without explanation. When questioned about these excursions, Slimes tend to squeak happily – even when questioned telepathically and directly. It may be that Slimes have a secret life that’s always “just around the corner,” and unknowable to non-Slimes. Or it may just be a Slime tradition to pull everyone’s leg and create the impression of one.


Satyrs Satyrs are frequently stereotyped as lecherous hedonists, but they’re too busy gorging, drinking, and fornicating to object. Satyrs judge others by sexual performance in the same way some Humans judge by handshake. They understand that not everyone wants to have sex with them … but as far as a Satyr is concerned, that’s a challenge, not a restriction. Many extend their affections beyond reasonable species boundaries (including livestock, household pets, and large plants) and lots of them are obsessed with underwear. There are Elu pirate ships crewed entirely by Satyrs who stage panty raids on passenger caravels. Their passions for wine, food and art (especially music) are comparably intense. Satyrs are creatures of appetite, and they are in every sense adventurous, curious, and romantic.

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tion between a “Faun” and a “Nymph” (for example) is lost on most everyone, including most Satyrs, who don’t really share the Human interest in categories.

Uresia’s Size in RealWorld Terms

If you ask Satyrs what their special powers are, they’ll probably assume you’re flirting and respond with gusto. In a sense, though, this is their most special power: Satyrs feel passion (of every kind) with a singular intensity, and this gives them an edge in those pursuits where the fires of imagination and desire are paramount. They are also profoundly loyal, once they decide to grant their loyalty. In the more traditional arena, Satyrs have keen senses: excellent hearing, good night vision, and a weak “second sight” which pricks their ears and tingles their horns in the presence of magical emanations or noteworthy spirit activity. Satyrs also have an easy kinship with animals, on par with that of Elves.

The inhabitants of heaven’s grave aren’t very clear on matters of scale (most learned folk, for example, still believe that Temphis is smaller than Dreed, because Dreed is more economically important, and less frightening), but we can allow ourselves, as visitors, a better understanding to get a handle on things. A few land-area benchmarks:

Satyric passions come at a price. Satyrs feel disappointment, loss, and resentment with that same notable intensity, leading to social difficulties with cooler-headed races. Their appetites, too, can be a crippling distraction – the hint of pleasurable food, drink, music or sex can draw their attention when they should be otherwise occupied.

Troll-Landers Trolls, Giants, and other “monstrous” Humanoids thrive beyond the Divide, but some make their home in Uresia proper, and might become notable heroes and villains. Most are tough, strong, fast, and equipped with some manner of natural weaponry (claws, tusks, etc). Many are huge. Most are, on balance, no smarter or dumber than a Human, though Troll Lands cultures tend to be primitive and largely nomadic. When they wander to heaven’s grave, they face potentially deadly social barriers: men (especially rural folk unaccustomed to strangers) will often assume they’re ravaging monsters. There are Troll settlements on all the islands and “Troll Towns” in many port cities, but Gandi (the southern island of Boru) is really the only place where it’s normal to see Trolls and Humans mixing in a small town. In Orgalt, the eastern Troll settlements have barely survived repeated raids from barbaric Dwarves (and compete for food with some small Human and Goblin barbarian tribes).

Post-imperial Koval is roughly the size of modern Spain. Birah is half that size, and together they dominate the largest Uresian landmass. At the other end of things, Dreed is the smallest of the major islands, comparable in land-area to Portugal. Temphis is the size of the British Isles entire; Yem is the size of Great Britain alone. Sindra is about the size of Germany. Uresia, combined, is the same overall size as Western Europe. Uresia plus the Troll Lands is twice that: the size of Europe extending out to the Ural and Caucasus ranges.

Homeland

Beneath their libertine pursuit of pleasure, Satyrs are an intelligent and emotional people. Hailing mostly from Lochria (page 18), Satyrs keep modern societies, produce beautiful handicrafts (many made one-handed), and are capable of great heroism – especially if some derringdo is called for. Quick on their hooves, they’re natural dancers, strong leapers, and good fencers, making them born swashbucklers. Quite a few take to sea, where their shortcomings (most are poor swimmers and climbers) are amply compensated by their talents. In adventuring society, Satyrs are ubiquitous. Humans have observed and defined several Satyr sub-races (sorted by furs and wools, curly horns vs. stubby horns, etc.) but the distinc-


For a survey of the Uresian realms, see pages 7-38 inclusive. But if you ache for something a little offbeat (more offbeat than Uresia already offers, I mean), don’t overlook the creative possibilities implied by the note about “invisible” kingdoms on page 7. Some 12% or so of Uresia’s total land area is untouched by the text in this book. The highly secret World Census prepared for King Argot I of Rinden estimates that these kingdoms have a combined population of around 7 million souls. On the other hand, until 1372 that same census included a kingdom called “Feemerlund” with a palace built from

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Magic and Magic-Wielders

Religion

Temphis is the most beautiful country if you understand it isn’t the high mountain or misty wood that is beautiful. Rather, the road that winds through them. The roads of this country reveal more, hide more, terrify and humble more, than any I have known. The trails and pathways of Temphis are fierce and beautiful, and though it’s killed my kin, I owe this land my heart.

Ironic, but inescapably true: the demise of the gods was the best thing that ever happened to religion. With the gods silent, priests can reauthor them in whatever manner they (or their king) require to bend the knee of the faithful, and they can do so safely, without bolts of celestial fire flashing them to cinder in contradictory retort. With no gods to guide the priesthood, the highest priests may as well be the gods, as far as the believers are concerned.

� Jarles Dunwiddy, Self-Styled “Master Sorcerer of Throle”

In some places, inevitably, any talk of “dead” gods is heresy. “The gods,” priests often insist, “returned to us centuries ago, thanks to the purity and correctness of Church X, in order to bless Realm Z for so long as they obey the divine will, which we’ve translated for you, so listen closely …” Religion is a tool of the powerful and fearful, used to pacify, inspire, command and excuse … and in a world where the gods are dead, religion is everywhere.

It’s probable that magic wasn’t quite so intense before the sky fell. It’s probable that the rampant energies saturating heaven’s grave were, once upon a time, more orderly. It’s probable the gods once used these energies in the day-today business of being godly, and that when the gods were destroyed, their powers were scattered, scrambled, and sprayed across the remains of the world. It’s probable. At any rate, whatever the stuff is, the Troll Lands have some of it, the Divide lacks it almost entirely, and Uresia has more of it, ultimately, than even the very wisest can handle without danger. Uresia has too much magic. That’s certain, and it’s a certainty that makes wise men bald with worry … and wicked men hop around doing a kind of Snoopy Dance of Evil. If you’re considering a magic-using character, here are some things to consider.

Troll Faith Trolls see Uresians as weak because men put their gods (dead or alive) above their kings, at least on paper. In most Troll traditions, the gods are in thrall to Troll kings, servants of Troll wisdom, strength, and needs.

Scary Stuff Wizards Know

gumdrops. Feemerlund’s existence stood unquestioned for generations, a leftover from fanciful reports centuries old. The Feemerlund Chair in Diplomats’ Hall remains to this day, because it would unbalance the décor to simply remove it. Tradition holds that – out of sober respect – no royal backside has ever warmed the Feemerlund Chair, but that’s because the king doesn’t know about some of the things his daughters do with visiting knights.

In the world of kings and warlords, cowardice is drawn to power, and power to cowardice. In the bright river of sorcery, where no man can walk without facing the fires without and the ice within, brave men, at last, wield power … though not exclusively.

Just between you and me, I think King Argot hides a secret hope that the gumdrop palace is real. Perhaps it is. Perhaps your character once called it home. The fact is, Uresians don’t know very much about Uresia, beyond their own, very local, experiences. The map on page 38 displays more accurate information about heaven’s grave than you could glean by rifling through the navigational charts of a hundred randomly selected caravels, and it still tells us precious little. Maybe you’re from Dreed, or Yem, or Orgalt, and maybe you’re from somewhere new.

Worldly Wise? As long as we’re on the subject of how little Uresians know of Uresia, consider for a moment how much your own character knows. Have you sailed to many ports, perhaps? And if you have, have you left those ports to wander up into the villages, and to the hills beyond? It can be great fun to play a worldly character, and it can be just as fun to play someone who knows far less than you do, someone for whom the entire world is somewhere new.


� Mullanis Graff, That Bowl Simply Would Not Go Everything has magic in it. Sand is rich in the magic of sand, frogs are saturated with frog-magic, red-haired girls are naturally radiant with the power inherent in being a red-haired girl, and so on. As a general rule, intelligent creatures (and their works) contain more magic than simpler creatures, and living things contain more magic than lifeless things. So, the magic of redheads is stronger than the magic of frogs – to nobody’s surprise. Of all works, symbolic ones (words, glyphs, music, drawings, etc.) are the most powerful. When someone takes pen to paper, chisel to stone, or last night’s rum to this morning’s snow, the magic of the world responds in some way. Sorcery of this sort is so common that it seems to absorb its own ripples most of the time. Even when you’re dealing with something very potent, like the inscription of runes, it isn’t usually dangerous to sign your name. Maybe, every time a bell rings, an angel gets his wings (or combusts, or craves mint) but if so, nobody’s witnessed it (the occasional ranting of all-night confectioners aside). If your handwriting is very poor, though … or if you ring

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Even wizards take it on faith, most of the time. Some are born with a kind of second sight that allows them to catch glimpses of the surge of magic or hear the footfalls of ghosts, but those who can see too much become the village idiot, not the royal sorcerer. Laöchrian runesmiths have long held that “the sight” is more defect than blessing, nothing more or less than dangerous cracks in what should be a healthy and merciful shroud of ignorance. They – and others – suspect that wizards are broken, in a way. It’s no secret that the most powerful wizards stand a few paces to the side of normalcy. A small price to pay, perhaps, for the ability to dip a finger into the rivers of reality, and to know which trees store power in their leaves, which words can command light from darkness, which gestures repel frogs, and which ones attract redheads.

Magic Items, Magic Industry There’s little in the way of magical industry beyond simple enchanted tools (like the sails found on the best caravels, or the occasional self-playing gusli). This is partly because few can afford it, but mostly because wizards see themselves doing something more interesting with their ineffable occult powers than punching out +5 Churns of Buttering or supplying a kingdom with crushed ice. Sorcerous insight – as a rule – manifests in dreamers, iconoclasts, scatterbrains and rebels. Wizards tend to be creative, individualistic, contrary and absent-minded. Most aren’t fond of obeying. Maybe magical talent does that to people. Maybe it works the other way around.

The Magical Arts

This isn’t to say that the services of wizards are never for sale, but it often takes big money, special enticements (including simple butt-kissery), and patience. It takes time to perform experiments, send adventurers in search of rare ingredients or fabled tomes, oversee the craftsmanship of the item, and to perform the necessary spells and rituals. Plus, it may be true that wizards like to milk the situation for whatever they can.

Sorcery rises where statesmanship rests. � Delia Farrow, Music and Madness There’s no prevailing occult philosophy in heaven’s grave (unless syncretism counts), so while every magician agrees broadly that runes, numerals, shapes, colors, herbs, animals, animal bits, Human bits (some more than others), musical notes, tastes, smells, phrases, the moon, the vernia, the stars, and the settling of post-teatime gunk in the bottom of the cup are richly imbued with cosmic symbolism, the agreements collapse quickly thereafter, sometimes devolving into red-faced wizards trying to claw each other’s eyes out until their colleagues pull them apart and calm them with a buffet.

Once upon a time, Sciravan, a Duke of Temphis, commissioned the item that could have cleared some of these matters up, but like so many of these stories, his went poorly. The item he craved was an amulet to be called Dorinia’s Truth, set with an emerald that glowed when its wearer told a lie. Simple enough in concept, it took two years to find a sorcerer willing to take it on, eight years for the work to be done, and then just one stormy night off the coast of Boru for it to be lost, probably forever, into the darkness of the ocean. When all was said and done, the amulet had cost more than double the price of the ship it slipped into the brine with (and that’s not counting the virtue of six of the Duke’s nieces, which the sorcerer insisted were crucial to his research). The sorcerer ran off with Dorinia (the Duke’s wife) the very next day.

So, there is no single craft for a Uresian wizard to study. Magic (honey-ether, akasa, essence, mana, emerald starlight, call it what you will) is versatile stuff, and there are dozens of widespread disciplines, hundreds more obscure ones, and perhaps thousands of homegrown, individual arts unique to single wizards or isolated orders. A sampling of the well-known ones:

Boru Sorcery The mages of Boru are exotic artists, working to blend the lines between magic and skill, perception and reality, feeling and fact. They employ drugs, dances, drama and seduction into their arts.

The closest things to widespread and well-accepted “industries” in magic are augury (predicting the future by reading signs or by formal divination techniques) and apothecary work (see page 84), which attracts different sorts of practitioners, and less fearful superstition. a bell with a particular and unusual cadence … you may accidentally make magic happen, the unmistakable kind. Uresia is drenched in magic, soaked in it and submerged in it. It’s a roiling sea of multicolored chaos, ripping itself apart and rebuilding itself all around everyone. It’s difficult to notice, however. If you walk across a Rinden farm and find a sunlit meadow, you’ll see grass bending to the breeze, smell the wet clover, and maybe feel a chill from the shadow of a passing cloud. Few can see beneath this.


Wizards the world over respect Boru sorcery, but most non-Boru don’t know exactly what to make of it. It’s a fact that one of the most celebrated practitioners of these arts – the beautiful Bria Telan of Toshish – couldn’t cast a single “spell,” in the sense most people use the word. After years as a dancing girl and professional consort, however, her skills at enchantment (of the personal variety) were such that the distinction became academic, and that’s the essence of Boru magic: where does magic really begin, and where does inspired art end? Most Boru sorcerers can cast spells, in every traditional sense, though Boru spells tend to focus exclusively on affecting feelings, emotions, perception and outlook. For the

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rest, a Boru mage is a performer, a master of misdirection, enthrallment, music and speech. Most Boru sorcerers keep a satchel full of alchemical aids as well, favoring those infused into incense.

Common Demonology It’s common in Sindra and Winnow, and rare elsewhere. Common demonology is not “evil” by any stretch, but rather, a popular magical discipline built on just one category of spellcraft: spells that summon demons and other spirits to do the caster’s bidding. Since demons and spirits come in many varieties, with an extraordinary range of talents and powers, it’s actually a very potent and flexible approach to sorcery. A wizard needn’t char his own fingers with balls of fire when he can summon a demon who’s been mastering that art for millenia! In Sindra, in particular, the term Common Demonology is very specific and important, to distinguish these arts from nastier, more selfish forms of demonology (the kind wielded by snarling madmen eager to bargain with their soul for wicked power). In other cultures, Common Demonologists often drop the term entirely, and describe thesmelves prosaically as “summoners.”

tion against physical blows but almost absolute protection from heat and flame. The second, “Walk As Smoke,” allows the Dwarf and any non-living possessions to become insubstantial, a cloud of smoke that can walk slowly on a breeze, pass through cracks in doorways, and so on. Spells beyond these tend to be slow, ritualistic, subtle, and non-martial (when a Charcoal King wants to hurt you, that’s what his axe is for). The skin of the Charcoal Kings must be adorned in runes of soot (drawing the runes on themselves and one another is part of their elaborate “suiting up” ritual before entering battle, and if anything washes the runes off, they can’t perform magic). The source of all their power is the Fire Cluster: a six-ton mass of glowing orange quartz kept in the court at Blind Owl City and manipulated by the High King. According to rumor, if any of the Rego Corunda disobeys the wishes of His Majesty, their powers are simply revoked.

Troll Shamanism One of the reasons Trolls settle in Boru may be that Boru Magic and Troll Shamanism have a lot in common. Both are heavy on the ritual and dance, light on the scientific rigor and lighter still on the flashy bolts of lightning. Troll Shamans have the weaker magic of the Troll Lands to work with, so they use their skills as much as their spells, and their spells are subtle.

Duandralin Wild Magic

This is a facet of the Wild Pact (pages 8-9), so it’s functionally secret knowledge, known only to those who Troll Shamans are limited to magics live with it, for better or worse. To everyone that affect Shokla, a Troll-lander word else, it’s just rumor: the Duandralin can that means “life-force” or “motive mimic the abilities and attacks of wild energy.” Troll Shamanism can heal, woodland beasts and their demonic soothe, affect luck and fortune in kin, even to the point of reshaping subtle ways (including cryptic their bodies in whole or in part, divination), and enhance natural sprouting claws in a mist of skills. It can also repel, attract, their own blood, or growing and appease spirits. It can eyes that see as beasts see, help events that might teeth that rend as beasthave happened anyway teeth do. Any Duandralin happen more easily or who does not use his or her more quickly, or it can Her Love Lost, She Seeks powers to serve the Wild Pact achieve dramatic effects Only Vengeance (and, more specifically, the desires of the with the right ingredients beast-lords who rule Birah) may have their and proper conditions. Usually, very dramatic Troll magic powers limited. In extreme cases of disobedience, the is just as much work as doing something without magic Duandralin are hunted down by their kin, and killed. One at all, but it can offer alternative methods that make the thing the rumors gloss over: the Duandralin cannot mimic impossible possible. Troll magic cannot achieve blatantly aerial or aquatic powers. Their masters include no birds or supernatural feats like flight or violent energies. It can’t fish, but only those who run, slither, climb and crawl. even magically seal a door, for example, though it can make a door get a lot more stuck than usual … Only a fool underestimates a Troll in Uresia, however, where experienced magic-using Trolls frequently learn tricks well The magic of the Charcoal Kings of Laöch is ritualized beyond the normal limits of their native arts. and ancient, focusing on fire, heat and smoke. While the In the Troll Lands, Troll shamans must regularly appease Kings sometimes sport unusual abilities, just two spells the spirits that serve their villages, and must dress in define the core of the Rego Corunda’s powers. The elaborate ritual clothing and use valued totems to achieve first, “Holy Fire Skin,” hardens the Dwarf’s skin to the anything magical. consistency of boiled leather, providing moderate protec-

Rego Corunda Magic


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Yemite Necromancy

Folk Magic

Yemite sorcerers seek mastery of death, and of the raw power of spirits (living and dead). Their usual methods include verbal ritual, glyphs, substances and (for those wealthy enough to establish a sanctum) enchanted machinery. Their magic is as precise as that of the Sindrans (and even more powerful in some ways) but strongly bound to its source: the energy of souls.

Most spells cast in Uresia aren’t from any “discipline” at all: they’re folk-magic, weak arcane charms most often limited to specific, non-sorcerous professions. Many sailors, for example, know simple spells to help untie knots, while elder emerald-miners know how to whistle a tune that tells them if a tunnel is strong enough to bear more digging. Such spells are used sparingly and discreetly, for fear of attracting dangerous spirits or frightening superstitious friends, but they’re ubiquitous. Virtually any character might know a few folk charms; all the Game Master needs to remember is that they’re simple comforts only – powerful enough to do what the caster could have done anyway, with a bit more effort or simple supplies (or questionably-useful charms of the please-let-the-cute-redhead-like-me variety). If your game system (and Game Master) is tolerant of such stuff, folk-magic should be a “freebie,” available improvisationally to any PC who cares for it … but the risks of over-use should be genuine.

Most necromancers summon servants from among the dead; they’d rather not lift a finger unless it’s glued to the end of a wand. Necromancers raise corpses as servile skeletons and zombies, leaving the bodies to collapse in the snow when their labors are done. Some necromancers enchant permanent skeletal valets, but most don’t bother – there’s no shortage of the dead. Necromancers also command bodiless ghosts, using them as spies and soldiers, and binding them into objects as unliving enchantments. Some necromancers can become ghosts themselves, leaving their bodies in a safe place as they wander the land a spectre.

Demons: Here To Stay? When a demon-summoning spell ends, the caster has a choice: either banish the demon (sending it back from whence it came) or simply setting it free into the world. If the caster chooses the latter, he abandons all control or claim over the demon, and may not banish it at will after that. From that point on, the demon becomes an independent Uresian with a life of its own. Some demons will be willing to bargain to stay on Uresia, while some would prefer to go home as soon as their work is done.

Necromantic powers of healing are notable but unsavory, since they siphon the essence of the dead to repair the living, and some healed by necromancy complain of nightmare memories that don’t belong to them. The trappings and atmosphere of the grave are also the Necromancer’s to command; they have no trouble with “parlor trick” magic that inspires dread, chills, silence and cold. Necromancy lends itself well to battle-magic (both directly, in the form of soul-chilling death-rays and the like, and indirectly, via skeletal armies). Necromancers draw their power directly from nearby souls. This usually means dead ones, by magically consuming ghosts. To some extent, though, necromancy is also powered by ghosts-to-be, by the souls of the living. Ordinary necromancers draw power haphazardly from whatever’s nearby, while the ruling Necromancers (the Sorcerer-Dukes) siphon souls from all corners of their lands by means of wicked machines. In their citadel lairs, they wield vast and terrible power, bleeding the life of the land to bloat their bodies and fuel their intent. Most are loathe to travel far from their “royal privilege.” In wilderness regions where ghosts become rare, the power of any Necromancer (royal or not) fades noticeably. Most ghosts cluster near the living for “warmth,” and where there are few living souls, there are few dead ones.


All Yemites have a raw talent for necromancy, hence the problem (page 37) with Snowmen. But the ruling Necromancers have access to greater knowledge, and they don’t share it – even with one another – except as coins of political bargaining. Each works to devise better methods of siphoning souls to magical purpose, and the worst of the them look upon the living with impatience, as fruit on the vine which must ripen and drop. The Dread Prince, like the Dread King before him, encourages the responsible study of magic, and grants access to his vast libraries to all Yemites who appear sincere and worthy, regardless of station. Many of the Dukes would prefer that all “commoner sorcery” be outlawed, to protect their own positions, but it seems that Orliss has more sympathy for his countrymen than he does for the vanity or ambition of his Dukes … and with Sindra as a neighbor, a royal demand for magical ignorance would be shortsighted. Orliss isn’t. Only snowmen are prohibited by decree, and that’s a remnant of the Dread King’s own vanity. Now that Orliss is more comfortable in his role, he might abolish it at some point, but probably not without investigating the “lives” of Snowmen more carefully.

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Zodiac

The Ton Vial One example of a unique “locals only” potion is the Ton Vial. This rapidly-becoming-legendary delver’s tool is a modern development, a side-effect of efforts at Dosrabid’s (page 52) to make their explosions more devastating. The ton vial isn’t imbibed; it’s simply opened and dropped. Exposed to air, it begins to bubble and dissipate violently, but it also increases substantially in mass. The dram of liquid inside masses nearly one and a half tons as soon as it’s opened, and for about fifteen seconds thereafter, until the fluid dissipates harmlessly. If the vial is shattered, the fluid scatters immediately after impact. The Ton Vial is available only in Shadow River – and that’s probably for the best.

True Alchemical Realism There are Very Serious Alchemists who insist that none of what’s described here is true alchemy. To their way of thinking, a useful root isn’t “alchemy” because the hand of man hasn’t enhanced the natural magic. But brewing an invisibility potion isn’t “alchemy” either, because the result does nothing to perfect matter or spirit or achieve some arcane philosophical ideal. These scholar-artisans hold that any art worthy of the name is a rigorous personal discipline, channeled through craft and magical procedure. Such alchemists, when they aren’t busy being pantsed by more likeable mystics, occasionally stumble onto some very wonderful things … and discard them. Apothecaries, potion-brewers, gunmeal mills and others pick through the scraps and give the Very Serious Alchemists the one thing they’d never otherwise have: a legacy.

The Politics of Potions The mountain goblins of the Rindenland have been chewing on fresh Bistlethorn for centuries because the juice has a pleasant cinnamon flavor and renders a goblin usefully translucent. During the Koval Wars, some Angel’s Ford apothecaries found that a fermented decoction of the same plant (along with a bit of houndstail and some butter-sprite charcoal) could brew to a new kind of full-on invisibility potion, without the nauseating “yesterday’s cow-pie” flavor delvers know and dread (itself due to the critical importance of actual cow-pie in potions of invisibility). This raised concern among the butter-sprites (peaceful, cherubic fairies who self-combust on the 400th evening of their lives) but for the duration of the war, such moral quandaries were silenced.


Apothecary and Alchemy: The World’s Own Magic Most apothecaries don’t “adventure” as such (but see the Talarians, page 21), but wizards in other disciplines dabble in the apothecary’s art. Every town and many villages feature a potion-seller or two (alchemists in town, local witches and mad hermits elsewhere). Most of what they produce is simple and unglamorous: cures for minor (or imagined) ills, aids to easy slumber, marital draughts for the aging Duke who needs to prove he’s still got it. Most keep a small stock of “top shelf” elixirs for wandering adventurers, though: tiny vials of syrupy liquid that heal wounds or boost strength or purge poison or grant temporary abilities like flight, invisibility, astral projection

or spider-like climbing. Some of any alchemist’s most useful wares won’t be “potions” at all, but rather incense, unguents, charms, or simply fresh leaves of local flora packaged for consumption. For the truly adventurous, potion-sellers concoct homebrew inventions unique to their establishment, so it’s always worth asking for the specialty of the house (some alchemists will offer free samples, especially for works in progress). There are also potions peculiar to cultures (such as Boru’s famed “pleasure potions”) and alchemical fads (it’s fashionable in the Rindenland to quaff potions that cause a random, temporary, change in the drinker’s eye color). Potions, like cuisine, reflect local tastes and ingredients. Side-effects are common, but also vary by local recipe (and price). Apothecary-work is the closest thing Uresia has to a lasting and socially-acceptable occult industry. Spells and enchantments make a lot of people nervous (or angry). Spells are a willful re-authoring of reality, and sometimes accidentally invite hexes and hauntings which blossom to dark legend in superstitious folklore. Potions, by contrast, are (a bit) more natural, can be used easily by anyone, and are familiar: even rural peasants taste a potion or two now and then, thanks to village witches and country pedlars. There’s also the subtler matter of the personalities involved. Generally speaking, alchemy attracts (and rewards) unaffected craftsmen who find satisfaction in a productive routine, contrasted with the usual nature of spellcasters (see page 80). Some Uresians avoid potions because they’ve heard horror stories of alchemy gone awry. Such fears are disproportionate to the risks. Faulty potions are rare, but the risk of fraudulent potions is genuine. Charlatans hawking vials of glitter-water are everywhere, so it’s best not to buy a potion from the inside of anyone’s coat. Another genuine risk is shelf life: some potions manage to last for centuries, but some expire … or change … in a matter of months. So, alchemical laymen take note: approach a 50-year old potion found in a ruin with the same eagerness you’d reserve for the 50-year old ham sandwich sitting next to it – at least until an expert can examine it for you.

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Unique Talents and Realized Motifs If your game system allows for it, some Uresians have entirely unique powers and talents, and a dash of strange ability can round out a character nicely. Since the name of the game is individuality, there are no ground rules beyond “whatever the GM can be talked into,” but here’s a grab-bag of types and notions to get the ball rolling: � Racial Variants: In the mountains forming the western border of the Duchy of Throle, there’s a high valley where nobody uses ink, because everyone born in that valley (a human settlement) can darken surfaces with a touch, and learn to control this power to create lines, words, pictures – anything you or I might do with a pen. There is a single tribe of Goblins in Celar (perhaps 400 strong, depending on the fortunes of the hunt) who can speak with birds from early childhood … and a glade in the Volenwood where the young Elven girls can extinguish fire by whispering to it. No one knows where this gift comes from, or why it goes away. For the most part, racial variants are cosmetic … darker skin, strangely-colored eyes, a visibly broader forehead, a sharper nose. But variant abilities (or vulnerabilities), while individually rare, are collectively pretty common. � Truly Funky Weaponry: Sometimes, an ordinary sword just isn’t enough (even if it’s one of those “smell my insecurity” swords nine feet long and two feet wide), so there are enchanters hidden in remote towers and tiny sea-cliff shacks who can forge a blade made of bubbling yak blood, orange hell-light, and your own hatred of marmosets. Sometimes, too, funky weaponry is all about realizing your character’s motif: the scholar who proves that the pen really is mightier than the sword (complete with blinding ink-squirt attacks and heart-piercing punctuation strikes), the glutton wielding loaves of bread and hot bowls of soup, the drunkard who fights by “accidentally” sending furniture and random items flying by stumbling over them, the loving nurse who binds and disables with casts, bandages, and well-aimed thermometers. � Destiny: In Uresia, there are no Chosen Ones. Prophecies where the one true entitled wossname will be found in the bulrushes and arise to save us all by dint of his plot immunity and high midichlorian count are the purview of charlatans and idiots. But … just as mankind keeps religion alive out of need, some people need to believe in Chosen Ones, and go out of their way casting spells, laying traps, and sticking their fingers in their ears and humming to build a prophecy that works. Your character could be at the center of such a scheme, and the question might be: will you fight your destiny, embrace it, or expose it for what it really is?


� The Badassery That Time Forgot: Sometimes, very strange items come from those Skyfall ruins … things strange enough to build a character’s powers (and troubles) around. Sometimes, it’s a straightforward way to introduce a nifty staff or sword, but it can also be fun to take posession of a “mystery item” that the player barely understands but the GM holds the cards for. � The Nth Degree: Take an ordinary skill or talent and press it to the edge of common sense. Then, press it some more, until it cracks and cries. A pretty girl can turn heads, naturally. But a girl pretty to the Nth degree can manipulate crowds, knock men unconscious with an innocent look, and bend wills with a toss of her hair. A talented chef can sway or inspire emotions with his culinary acumen … a chef talented to the Nth degree can do it in the middle of a melee, whipping up a distracting goulash using improvised ingredients and the heat from the Dwarf’s cigar, delectable enough to make an angry Minotaur kneel and pay his respects. At the other end of the culinary spectrum, someone with an appetite gluttonous to the Nth degree might grant the power to empty a larder in minutes, or turn a quiet pond into a muddy crater with a pile of clean fish skeletons at the bottom. Note that many of these are simply cases of realized motif: In Uresia, a great chef is expected to have nearsupernatural powers relating to food, a questing scholar may very reasonably have superpowers relating to books and learning, and an Apocalypse Bride can achieve the unreal due to her intense devotion to bridal traditions and wedding paraphernalia.

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Emeralds Due in part to the paucity of “industrious” enchanters (see page 80) enchanted objects tend to be wondrous, even unique ... most of the time. There are a few workaday exceptions (simple magic tools that can be knocked off in an afternoon, mostly) and one vital one, the most valued of all magical tools: emeralds.

Most ordinary spellcasters can’t afford one “ideal” emerald, let alone a necklace full of them. A 10-carat caster’s gem of fine cut and color sells for ten pounds royal ($$10,000) from a reputable source, and it’s hard to name a prettier prize for a thief. Thrifty wizards disregard emeralds entirely, dismissing the baubles as more trouble than they’re worth.

Emeralds (called “starlight stones” by some) are a potent source of raw magic, channeling potentially cosmic levels of power. Wizards wear ordinary emeralds as jewelry to supplement their reserves, while the rare giant stones can help level a village, raise an oasis in the desert, or fuel outsized enchantments like a suit of emerald armor. Those sensitive to magic see a finished emerald as a flickering pinhole in the universe, focused and balanced by the gemcutter’s design.

Emerald Burnout An emerald pushed too far, for too long, can burn out. A ruined emerald cracks and fractures, becoming smoky and dark. There’s also a psychic pulse, the “death chime,” which normal ears can’t hear, but nearly any wizard or sensitive can. The resulting “corpse” isn’t good for much except gaudy jewelry (cheap costume fare in the Boru markets). Some Emerald Knights keep and wear a ruined emerald with pride, or give them as gifts to their ladylove, or to some wide-eyed peasant child.

The mountains of Dreed (page 14) provide the finest and largest stones – the source of their kingdom’s wealth and security. Laöch’s Ironhead range is another source of note, but Ironhead emeralds are less fine, and tend toward the minuscule. Both countries value the skill of their emeraldcutters, who practice a delicate art in the face of both magical hazard and the standards of courtly fashion.†

In emergencies, a prepared series of small emeralds (dozens of them) can power a giant-emerald device … but using small-emerald magic for big-emerald jobs is a certain path to ruined gems: each emerald snaps and goes dark (or even explodes) in turn. A typiSize, cut, clarity and color govern cal emerald armor can pop a dozen an emerald’s potential, but the small stones in less than one minute “perfect” emerald for one mage will of vigorous battle. A company of Celari be imperfect for another. Premium knights used just such an emergency emeralds are a brilliant chromium green, to unexpected advantage in the last days but some mages feel more drawn to bluof the Koval Wars: it turns out that so ish hues, or grassier ones, or to lighter or A Miner’s Emblem From many emeralds exploding creates painful darker stones. No matter the wizard, an Central Dreed, Emphasizing ripples in the fabric of magic – ripples emerald must be cut with care. Uncut, the Dangers of the Mines that rendered a dozen Kovali Elves dizzy fractured or cloudy emeralds emit power and vulnerable … in fluctuating rivulets and deadly surges. A wizard’s “perfect” emerald is limited, too, by his own power and experience: an accomplished sorcerer can safely draw on stones that would endanger a novice. In terms of adventuring mojo, here’s a benchmark for statting emeralds in game terms: giving an adventurThe ring-and-necklace emeralds favored by wizards ing wizard a single caster’s stone (one suited to them) are “tiny” compared to their giant cousins, but should be roughly equivalent to giving a mercenary conspicuously large by any jeweler’s standards: 6-10 soldier a full rig of top-notch warrior’s gear: heavy carats for most, more for true masters of magic … but armor, a good sword, a stout shield, a sturdy horse. past 20 carats or so, even the most accomplished sorGiving the wizard additional emeralds is like giving cerer faces dangers which outpace the power. Wealthy that same soldier a squire (loaded down with replacemages without a death wish seek multiple modest ment shields, a golf-bag of swords, a snifter of brandy, gems rather than single, oversized ones. towels, fresh water and some healing herbs). That is to say, a single emerald has a genuine impact in terms † Vanity Cut – the Dreed term for a traditional cabochon oval – is of maximizing the wizard’s potency, while multiple the perennial favorite, but faceted cuts leap in and out of favor, emeralds prepare him for extended challenges. and may offer advantages in power or safety (opinions vary).

Game-Value of Emeralds


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Currency & Prices

Food Rations, One Week’s Fresh Rations, One Week’s Preserved Loaf of Fresh Bread Wretched But Satisfying Meal (Gruel, Smoked Swill, Goat-Horn Stew) Tavern Meal, Typical Ordinary Meat or Cheese, 1 Pound Meal at a Good City Restaurant Meal at a Fine or Celebrated Restaurant Flavored Ice (w/Fruit Syrup) Chocolate-Dipped Biscuit Sticks, Small Box Box of Fine Chocolates Supply of an Ordinary Spice or Herb Tiny Supply of a Rare Spice or Herb

Out among the sailores of th’ Elu Isles they strike no coine, but use what coine others may trade – and what coine they might take, should they become pyrate. The men of Fhario’s lande did know a copper as the “Churlie” or the “Fat Man,” called silver chaine a “Shackle,” and called “beautiful” and “lovely” any coine or coines of gold. The man who cut my Elf’s throat before me, said he: “For seven beauties I’ll spare her; for six I’ll spare thee.” I had but six, and that he knewe. � On The Methode of Kovale’s Defeat Blinde Jack the Wand’rer (1353) Most Uresians live in cozy hamlets along rural trackways, where commerce is hand-to-hand barter between neighbors. Such communities shear their own wool, bake their own bread, smith their own tools, and have little need for coin … but country roads do – eventually – wind their way to market towns, where coin is the lifeblood of trade.

$$1 $$3 $$6 $$15 $$40 $$2 $$9 $$20 $$10 $$25

Drink and Vice Tavern or Tea-House Drink (Ordinary) Tavern Drink, Specialty (Orgaltish Rye Ale, Laöchrian Thick-Beer, etc) Jack Wine or Mead, Bottle Distilled Spirits, Bottle Extra-Good Quality Booze (Boru Rum, Astalasian Brandy, etc), Bottle Mourfa Wine (Rare, Hallucinogenic), Bottle Extra-Good Reputation Booze (Suitable For Snobbery but Quality Varies Greatly), Bottle Cigars, Half-Dozen Ordinary Cigar, Single High-Quality Dwarvish Week’s Supply of Everyday Drug (Leaf, Hrombasta) Single Dose of Hard, Exotic, or Magical Drug (Turu, Sindran Bloodpowder)

Uresian money can make for a gaudy and confusing display, ranging from the squarish coins of Orgalt to the money-jewelry of Boru to great gold medallions struck by command of kings to make gifts of to other kings as a royal token of something majestic or other. But the differences are – for the most part – cosmetic. Owing to the needs of the merchant brotherhoods (and to the benefit of all who travel or adventure), most coins compare in practical terms to a basic copper-silvergoldpiece standard established foggy centuries past in the Rindenland. There and everywhere, the bedrock currency is the copper-piece ($$), often called a guilder. A guilder can buy a loaf of bread or a jack of ale. Three will buy a crude tavern meal, and a few hundred will buy a sword. For smaller change, coins can be cut into farthings (quarters) or bits (eighths). Coppers aren’t always pure copper (alloys like bronze, brass, or Dwarvish byorin are common) but merchants treat all “base-metal” coins equally, so a handful of Rinden guilders may just as well be Heltish commons or Boru rahzi.

$$1 $$2 $$5 $$10 $$40 $$120 $$300 $$4 $$3 $$20 $$30

Clothing Clothing, Peasant Rags Clothing, Ordinary Clothing, Uniform or Costume (Lingerie, Nun’s Habit, Jester’s Motley, Pirating Outfit, Seifuku) Clothing, Rich (Merchant or Petty Noble) Clothing, Outrageous (Garb for a King, High Priest, Archmage, etc) Add Full Travel Gear (Cloak, Boots, Backpack & Assorted Pouches) To Clothing Clothing for a Pet (Vest and a Fez for a Monkey, etc) Pajamas Umbrella or Parasol Robes Cloak Cloak, Dramatic or Sinister Snow Shoes Ice Skates (Bone) Boots Slippers, Plain Slippers, Bunny Slippers, Bunny, Dramatic or Sinister Gloves Hat, Broad Straw Hat, Cloth or Leather

Siblings or clones of the Rinden silver chain ($$10) and gold omen ($$100) are comparably ubiquitous, alongside quirky local denominations. Some lands also strike enormous gold coins, like the Rinden sovereign ($$1,000) but they’re rare, minted in tiny lots as the occasion (often a wedding) demands. Unless otherwise noted, Uresian prices are cited in guilders ($$), and 100 mixed coins weigh one pound. The lists of goods and services filling the next few pages are extensive, but not really comprehensive. They’re broad-and-shallow samplings of the things delvers find handy. They can be used on their own as a campaign price-list (there’s enough here for the Game Master to interpolate nearly any missing item), or as a bridging tool for the price-lists included with your fantasy game of choice. Compare key prices (weapons, armor, riding mounts, etc) to find a good “conversion rate” from your game’s usual coinage to Uresian guilders.


$$60 $$100 $$1

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$$5 $$20 $$50 $$250 $$800 $$100 $$12 $$12 $$18 $$20 $$20 $$40 $$24 $$40 $$40 $$6 $$12 $$24 $$8 $$2 $$12





Personal Adornment

Notes on the Price Lists

Ring, Silver Ring, Gold Ring, Decorated or Signet Small Personal Article (Eyepatch, Handkerchief, Fan, Pantsu) Costume Mask Spectacles Pocket-Watch or Wristwatch Tattoo, Tiny Tattoo, Typical Tattoo, Large Makeup Kit, Cosmetic Makeup Kit, Theatrical/Disguise Perfume, Ordinary/Nasty Perfume, Subtle/Pleasant Perfume, Premium/Nasty

The acquisition of treasure is an important fantasygaming tradition. There are entire cities beneath Uresia’s surface, waiting to be plundered, and the PCs may well be eager to crack them open, bleed them dry, and go shopping. The prices here are sliceof-life examples from the central port cities, typical values which change from port to port and day to day, depending on how far the goods had to travel, how dangerous the trip was, and whether the shopkeeper thinks you’re stupid, sexy, rich or all three. A few words of caution: The prices here are right for Shadow River or Ballicazar … but they might be very wrong for your campaign. Prices (especially the relative cost of weapons, armor, and healing potions) are sometimes tied to a game’s combat balances. So, don’t abandon your chosen system’s prices unless you’re sure it doesn’t much matter (in some games, it really doesn’t). Use the most ordinary goods and services as conversion benchmarks, and weave in the Uresia-specific stuff to the extent that it amuses you, satisfies your group, and fills in gaps (if your game’s native price-list lacks an entry for toy wands, combat-ready kites, or Satyr’s Balm).

Woolcloth, Bolt (11 Hands by 150 Feet) Linen, Bolt Satin, Bolt Velvet, Bolt Silk (Wormsilk), Bolt Silk (Damask Wormsilk), Bolt Silk (Spidersilk), Bolt Tapestry, Typical Rug, Typical Tapestry, Finest

$$100 $$150 $$170 $$240 $$300 $$750 $$2,700 $$200 $$400 $$3,000

Lighting

Containers $$3 $$5 $$20 $$20 $$40 $$5 $$20 $$20 $$1 $$2 $$2 $$3 $$20 $$70 $$125 $$200 $$800 $$100 $$200 $$200 $$600


$$6 $$12 $$600 $$120 $$70 $$250 $$1,000 $$70 $$150 $$12 $$60 $$240

Treasures of the Loom

Things are even easier if your game of choice abstracts money entirely … Instead of a pile of coins to be counted, a big treasure-haul can just result in a montage of high-priced inns, tables spread with sumptuous feasts, dancing girls … and later, a quiet scene of cobwebs pulled from pockets as the money runs out, inspiring everybody to go delving and do it all again. For such campaigns, the price list can still carry its own weight – as a big sloppy window into Uresian life.

Pouch, Small Pouch, Large Belt Pouches, Full Set (Varying Sizes) Backpack, Leather & Canvas Backpack, Plushy-Animal-Style Sack, Canvas Basket Wineskin Gourd Bottle (1-2 Pints) Vial (10 Drams) Flask (1 Pint) Bucket Barrel, Keg Barrel, Rundle (Half-Size) Barrel, Full-Size Barrel, Tun (Gigantic) Chest, Miniature Trunk (Can Sit Atop a Backpack) Chest, Coffer (Holds 10 Pounds of Coins or Gems) Chest, Ordinary Trunk (Large But Not Reinforced) Chest, Strongbox (Heavily-Reinforced Trunk)

$$10 $$100 $$400

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Torches (Dozen, 1 hour of light each) Candles (Dozen, 8-10 hrs light each) Lamp, Small Table Lamp (10-20 hrs light from ½ pint oil) Steel Tinderbox, w/Flint Lamp, Brass Dungeoneer’s Lantern (10-40 hrs, full pint) Oil, Pint (Beast or Fish Oil - Smokes Badly, Stinks Impressively, Stores Poorly, Putrefies Easily) Oil, Pint (Fruit or Seed Oil - Mild Smoke, Stores Well) Oil, Pint (Finest - Aromatic Smoke, Stores Well)

$$5 $$7 $$14 $$40 $$180 $$10 $$18 $$28

Assorted Gear Bedroll or Sleeping Bag Hammock Tent, One-Man Tent, Typical Basic Set of Camping Gear (Tent, Bedding, Simple Cookery Tools, Fishing Pole) Tent, Pavilion/Marquee Spool of Twine Simple Tool (Hammer, Trowel, Burin, Spatula) Firebox (Portable Cooking Box, A Copper Case With Sand and Charcoal) Soap, One-Pound Cake Water Wings Coil of Rope (20’) Length of Chain (per 5’) Chalk, Tin Pole, Dungeoneer’s

$$10 $$15 $$30 $$150 $$200 $$500 $$2 $$10 $$20 $$5 $$8 $$9 $$10 $$12 $$12





Touchstone Whetstone Fishing Gear Padlock Spyglass Forge Manacles Grappling Hook Simple Mechanical Trap (Bear Trap) Mirror, Silver Hand-Held Hourglass Pocket Compass Yemite Ice Axe (Combination Climbing Tool and Hiking Staff) Shackles, Iron Clock, Mechanical (Mantle or Wall) Slime Cage (Also Suitable for Monkey) Portable Tool Set For Specific Craft (Cooking, Carpentry, Locksmithing/Picking) Full-Body Cast (Street Price)

$$12 $$18 $$30 $$30 $$50 $$60 $$60 $$70 $$85 $$100 $$120 $$120 $$140 $$150 $$200 $$210 $$400 $$450

Games & Diversions Lawn Flamingo Paper Kite, Simple Hand-Painted Paper Kite, Elaborate (With Proper Skills, Maybe Useful for Flight and/or Combat) Doll or Rag/Plush Toy Marionette Hand-held Videogame Cartridge Hand-held Videogame System Deck of Centaur Cards (Cheap HandStamped “Sailor’s Grimoire”) Deck of Centaur or Tarot Cards (Press-Printed) Deck of Centaur or Tarot Cards (Hand-Painted, Fine Quality) Dice Set, One-Nighters (Boneapple) Dice Set (Bone, Horn, or Ivory) Hand-Carved Boardgame (Mastery, Capstones) Set of 100 Silver Strike-Tokens (Gambling) Instant Camera Film Pack (10 Shots) Instant Camera Cheap Musical Instrument (Tin Whistle, Pan-Pipes, Ocarina etc) Full-Sized Musical Instrument (Lute, Gusli) Bear-Flute (Doubles as a Fighting Staff)

$$16 $$16 $$200 $$8 $$24 $$180 $$600 $$10 $$65 $$500 $$4 $$12 $$90 $$120 $$60 $$1,000 $$20 $$120 $$200

Beasts Beast of Burden/Draft Animal Mount, Light/Saddle Mount, Cavalry/War Giant Riding Beast (Elephant, For Example) Mount, Light/Saddle, Hired/Rented, Per Day Fodder for Typical Mount, Per Day Fresh Shoeing for Hoofed Mount Basic Gear for Mount (Saddle, Bit & Bridle, Saddlebags) Barding, Light (for Cavalry/War Mount) Barding, Medium (Burdensome For Even the Strongest Mount) Barding, Heavy (As Above, Compounded) Livestock, Small (Poultry) Livestock, Medium (Pig, Sheep)

$$800 $$1,000 $$5,000 $$10,000 $$50 $$25 $$30 $$300 $$1,000 $$3,000 $$5,000 $$10 $$150


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“Exotic” Variants The price list is designed to be self-multiplying in a way, by providing mundane baselines chosen to be recognizeable, but which represent vast categories of comparable, but more exotic, items. Animals, for example, are listed according to scale and function when possible. Species shouldn’t be taken literally unless you feel like it. A “monkey” is sometimes an actual monkey (they’re common in Boru and in some parts of the Troll Lands), but the same price applies to whatever local animal might serve the role of a monkey … a pet cave-bogie from Laöch, for example, or a rascally fungal clump from Sindra. A “carrier pigeon” is any small beast serving the function of a carrier pigeon; a “saddle mount” is whatever animal the locals ride, and so on. Beasts with non-cosmetic extraordinary abilities (the flight of a pegasus, the swimming abilities of a war-weasel, the armored carapace of a thirty-ton elephant beetle, etc), go for triple the baseline price, as a starting point. The entire list must be approached with a willingness to discard the literal. The list specifies wine, mead and ale because they’re common fare in any Shadow River tavern, not because wine, mead and ale are the only booze around! The list anchors itself in familiar terms for our sake, to make the list easy to use. Simply being a “fantasy” equivalent of something doesn’t change the price, so players can have their gear as “trad/historical” or “outré fantasy” as they please to express their PCs’ personalities and signify home cultures. Prices change only when something’s notably different in non-cosmetic terms like safety, efficacy, weight, difficulty, durability or legality, or made from precious materials. On a related note, specialized variations litter the list as examples, providing price-relationships that travel. For example: a pair of sinister bunny slippers cost 4× as much as a pair of “slippers.” From this, extrapolate that anything might be had in a “sinister bunny” variant for a similar price-hike … for the jaded traveler in need of a pound of sinister bunny meat, for example, or a Potion of Sinister Bunny Love, or to rig a caravel with sinister bunny sails (lashed together from bunny-pelts with the little screaming faces left on, stretched taut to the icy gale). Apply (and keep on extrapolating) without shame. Livestock, Large (Cattle) Carrier (Homing) Pigeon Parrot (85% Likely to be Wiseass) Falcon, Hunting Dog, Good Domestic Breed or Work-Dog (Sled) Dog, Guard or War (Specially Trained) Monkey Fearsome Beast, Cub/Whelp (Bear, Wolf) Fearsome Beast, Tamed (Dancing Bear) Fearsome Beast, Trained to Guard or Fight

$$500 $$200 $$400 $$500 $$40 $$200 $$2,400 $$200 $$500 $$2,500





Armor & Battlegear

Weaponry, Heavy Duty

Armor, Light (Leather, Quilted)

$$500

Cannon, Typical Naval

Armor, Medium (Mail, Reinforced Leather)

$$1,500

Cannon Load, Per Shot (Includes Powder)

Armor, Heavy (Plate, Combination Armors)

$$5,000

Powderkeg (50 Pounds)

Emerald Armor, Complete Suit, Typical (Includes Emerald)

$$2,000,000

Shield, Light (Wood, Wicker) or Small

$$60

Shield, Stout (Metal or Reinforced Wood) or Large

$$180

Battle Standard

$$100

Weaponry, Swords $$200

Sword, Typical (Arming Sword, Spatha, Scimitar, Jian)

$$300

Sword, Large (Claymore, Daikatana)

$$500

Sword, Excessive (Zweihänder)

$$700

Sword, Wooden (Bokken)

$$1,000 $$25

Weaponry, Assorted Handheld Dagger

$$50

Mining Pick, Pickaxe, or Mattock

Siege Weaponry, Heavy (FullSized Catapult or Trebuchet) Siege Tower

$$80

Maul, Mace or Handaxe

$$100

Battleaxe (Two-Handed)

$$50 $$1,000 $$500 $$2,500 $$4,000

Alchemist, Apothecary Herb or Spice, Special (Garlic, Wolvesbane, Tana), per dose

Sword, Small (Gladius, Kodachi)

Sword, Ridiculous (Utterly Dwarfs a Large Human)

Siege Weaponry, Light (Ballista, Onager, Ram)

$$2,000

$$5

Potion, Simple Medicinal or Novelty (Headache Cure, Gloom Remedies, Eye-Randomizer, etc)

$$12

Potion, Sleep (Soluble, Difficult to Detect)

$$60

Potion, Deadly Poison (Soluble, Difficult to Detect)

$$180

Potion, Healing (Quick, Enough for a Knife-Wound)

$$150

Potion, Healing Slumber (Heals Huge Deadly Wounds, Takes Hours)

$$150

Potion, Dwarvish “Re-Virgining”

$$300

Potion of the Spider (Super Climbing)

$$800

Potion of the Warrior

$$1,000

Potion, Invisibility

$$1,000 $$1,200

$$200

Potion, Flight

Spear

$$30

Potion, Love

$$2,000

Whip

$$35

Walking Staff or Simple Cudgel (Shillelagh)

$$10

Potion of the Ghost (Incorporeal, Slow Flight, Nearly Invisble)

$$6,000

Smoke Bomb

$$90

Quarterstaff (Cured, Shod, Balanced, Meant-For-Fighting Staff)

$$30

Sleeping-Gas Bomb

Lance

$$85

$$180

Harpoon

Impact-Exploding Vial

$$90

$$240

Ton Vial

$$420

Trident

$$130

Polearm (Halberd, Corseque, Blutarch, etc)

$$140

Caltrops (Per Handful)

$$2

Gardening Tool

$$10

Farming Implement

$$40

Hand Gaff (Hook)

$$45

Hand-Claws (Baghnak)

$$120

Iron Feather-Duster Full Set of Exotic Small Weapons (Ninja, Magic Maid, Nurse, Apocalypse Bride, Fighting Scrivener)

$$180

$$800

Weaponry, Ranged Arrows or Quarrels, Dozen Ordinary Quiver Bow Longbow Crossbow Crossbow, Built to Withstand Use As a Bludgeon Bow, Composite Handaxe Balanced for Throwing Handaxe, Runecarved for “Boomerang Balance”

$$6 $$40 $$250 $$450 $$500 $$1,500 $$1,000 $$150 $$900


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Matches, Box of 20

$$3

Glue, Pot of Ordinary (Fish Glue, Hide Glue)

$$10

Vial of Beast-Musk (Smell Attractive to Specific Animal, for Hunters and/or Satyrs)

$$10

Satyr’s Balm, 10-Dram Pot (“One Excellent Evening’s Supply”)

$$12

Infused Bandages (Per Dressing)

$$60

Vial of Alchemist’s Acid (enough to ruin a lock or break a chain if applied slowly)

$$120

Set of Very Fine Scales (Suitable for Weighing Gems, Powders)

$$600

Pot of Magic Ultimate Glue (enough to coat about 1 square foot)

$$1,000

Pot of Magic Ultimate Grease (enough to make about 16 square feet impossibly slippery)

$$2,400

Pot of Magic Ultimate Glue Remover (enough to clear about 1 square foot)

$$4,000

Alchemical Lab, Bare Minimum (Covers One Small Table)

$$300

Alchemical Lab, Wearable (Talarian, Requires a Keryx Royal)

$$600

Fully-Stocked Alchemical Laboratory

$$15,000





Wizard, Priest, and Scholar Bone Tube (for storing scrolls and maps, watertight-ish)

Advanced Shipping & Stealing $$12

Map or Chart, Block- or Plate-Printed (Certain to be Inaccurate/Incomplete/Censored)

$$200

Map or Chart, Professionally Prepared (Quality and Accuracy Varies)

$$700

Map or Chart, Detailed, Quality Proven (Typically Illegal, a Trade Secret, or Both)

$$7,000

Set of Astrological Charts, Professionally Prepared

$$1,000

Quill

$$1

Book Rental From Scholarly or Magical Institution, Per Book Per Week

$$20

Scrivener’s Supplies (Quills, Ink, Paper) For One Month’s Work

$$30

Scroll, Brief Scholarly or Poetic Work (Equivalent to a Magazine Article) Book, Press-Printed

$$30 $$400

Book, Hand-Scribed

$$1,500

Book, Great Codex (Large, Handmade & Illuminated - A Temple’s Holy Book, For Example)

$$6,000

Toy Wand (Plastic or Wood, No Inherent Powers)

$$9

Incense (1 pound)

$$22

Holy Water, Vial

$$24

Amulet, Talisman or Holy Symbol, Humble (Wood or Base Metal)

$$20

Amulet, Talisman or Holy Symbol, Silver

$$200

Amulet, Talisman or Holy Symbol, Gold

$$2,000

Spirit Talisman, Common

$$30

Spirit Offering, Typical (Birah Woodlands)

$$10

Runestone Set

$$40

Censer, Brass

$$50

Keryx Royal (Talarian Fire-Staff) Fully-Stocked Magical Laboratory Emerald, Trinket (Around 1 Carat)

$$400 $$60,000 $$1,200

Emerald, Typical Fine “Wizard’s Gem”

$$10,000

Emerald, Giant (2-3 inches diameter)

$$750,000

Passage Hot Air Balloon Ride (Recreational, Returning to Launching Site)

$$8

Ferry Crossing, Per Man or Beast

$$10

Passage by Coach/Carriage, Per Day’s Normal Distance

$$50

Passage by Sea (Includes Board), Per Day’s Normal Distance

$$100

Passage by Laöchrian Railroad, Per Day’s Normal Distance

$$200

Freighting Freighting, Ton, Per Day’s Distance By Water

$$50

Freighting, Ton, Per Day’s Distance Overland

$$150

Freighting, Ton, Per Day’s Distance By Steam Locomotive

$$600

Cargo Loading (or Offloading), per 50 Tons

Unlike the other price lists, which offer a port-city, delver-on-the-street perspective, the bulk cargo prices are mercantile rates. So, these values aren’t much use for equipping a starting PC. Rather, they’re benchmarks upon which to build a merchant or pirate adventure. For the general “Ships’s Cargo” categories (top of the list), these are general ranges for pirated hauls. For the specific categories which follow, these are prices at the point of origin: travel increases them to the tune of freighting rates, apportionment, handto-hand middleman markups and general greed (final markup can range from “minimal” to greater than 200× the listed rate, depending). Use the main price lists for relative values to expand the cargo lists. For example: compare the cargo value of silk shipments (below) to Treasures of the Loom (page 88) to determine the relative values of a hold laden with bolts of wool, satin or velvet.

Bulk Cargo Ship’s Cargo, Poor Haul (50-100 Tons) Ship’s Cargo, Typical Haul (50-100 Tons) Ship’s Cargo, Rich Haul (50-100 Tons) Cheapest Cargoes (Soil, LowEnd Textile Fibers), Ton Materials, Cheap (Lime, Gravel, Most Woods), Ton Materials (Ore, Stone, Brick, Finest Woods), Ton Materials, Dear (Masonry, Refined Metals, Uncured Hides), Ton Hay/Fodder, Ton Leaf and Grass Crops (Grain, Tea, Tobacco), Ton Midrange Foodstuffs (Beans, Rice, Root Vegetables), Ton High-End Foodstuffs (Fruits, Nuts, Nectars), Ton Precious Agricultural Cargo (Wine, Oils, Spices, Cocoa, Cured Meats, Alchemical Supplies), Ton Hardware, Cheap (Simple Tools & Materials), Ton Hardware (Fine Tools, Simplest Weaponry), Ton Hardware, Dear (Armor & Good Weaponry), Ton Furs and Finished Leather, Ton Silk (Wormsilk, Dry Cocoons), Ton Silk (Wormsilk, Raw), Ton Silk (Wormsilk, Finished and Dyed Fabric), Ton Silk (Spidersilk, Dry Cocoons), Ton Silk (Spidersilk, Raw), Ton Silk (Spidersilk, Finished and Dyed Fabric), Ton

$$5,000 $$50,000 $$500,000 $$40 $$50 $$100 $$400 $$100 $$200 $$300 $$400

$$4,000 $$100 $$1,000 $$4,000 $$2,000 $$80 $$400 $$4,000 $$720 $$3,600 $$36,000

$$75


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Event Admission Admission, Debating Parlor (Goes Toward the Night’s Purse) Admission, Shady Event (SlimeFight Parlors, Satyr Shows) Admission, Arena Event (Gladiators, Sporting Chefs) Admission, Playhouse or Opera House (Standing) Admission, Playhouse or Opera House (Seated)

Bounty, Local, Dangerous & Notorious (Many Deadly Crimes) Bounty, Kingdom-Wide, Dangerous & Notorious Bounty, Kingdom-Wide, Sorcerer or Other Special Quarry Ransom, Knight’s Ransom, Landed Noble’s Ransom, King’s

$$1 $$5 $$30 $$10 $$50

Room (Per Night, Dive) Room (Per Night, Good) Room (Per Night, Fancy) Daily cost of a very humble urban existence (living with employer, or in cheapest shared room to rent) Daily cost of the cheapest “adventuring lifestyle” on the road (obsessive frugality, no inns, etc) Daily cost of a typical adventuring lifestyle Daily cost of a well-to-do merchant’s lifestyle (does not include retinue) Daily cost of a traveling noble’s lifestyle (does not include retinue)

$$7 $$15 $$22 $$50 $$25 $$150 $$5 $$15

House, Shack/Hovel House, Typical Rural (Cottage, Izba) House, Large Rural or Typical Urban House, Urban Craftsman’s (With Shop/Workshop) House, Very Large or Specialized (Inn, Guildhouse, Merchant House) House, Fine Manor House Farm, Orchard or Plantation, Modest/Remote Farm, Orchard or Plantation, Typical Manor Holding Stone Tower (Hermit Wizard, Petty Landed Knight, Ranger Outpost) Castle, Modest/Small Castle, Typical/Large Castle, Fairytale/Huge Castle, Bouncy/Inflatable, Per Day’s Rental ‡ Wooden Fort, Small Wooden Fort, Large

$$20

$$100 $$40 $$55 $$300 $$15 $$22 $$25 $$35 $$40 $$40 $$40 $$65 $$80 $$100 $$350

Dogsled Howdah Small Driving Cart Sleigh Wagon or Heavy Cart Passenger Carriage Hot Air Balloon (Basket Gondola, No-Frills) Hot Air Balloon (Deluxe, Carriage-Style Gondola) Locomotive Coal, Full (One Ton) Tender, Half-Day’s Fuel Laöchrian Steam Locomotive, Typical (12-18 cars)

$$30,000

$$20,000 $$10,000 $$27,000 $$35,000


$$8 $$10 $$30 $$50 $$400

$$1,000 $$5,000 $$20,000 $$50,000 $$100,000 $$1,000,000 $$150,000 $$1,000,000 $$500,000 $$5,000,000 $$25,000,000 $$100,000,000 $$500 $$3,000,000 $$10,000,000

Land & Air Transport

$$500 $$10,000

$$50,000 $$750 $$1,300

$$10 $$30 $$60

Be It Ever So Humble

$$15

Slave, Bounty & Ransom Slave, Basic Laborer Slave, Basic Laborer, Animated Corpse (Yem) Slave, House Servant or Valet Slave, Notably Skilled, Strong, or Attractive Slave, Premium (Beautiful Concubine, Prize Gladiator, Artisan, Wizard) Bounty, Local, Ordinary Man Bounty, Local, Presumed Dangerous

$$11,000 $$40,000 $$200,000 $$2,000,000

Lifestyle

Services & Servants Scrying or Divination, Local Witch or Seer Priest, Blessings (Expected Donation) Legal Consultation Sorcerous or Scholarly Consultation (Translating Scripts, Identifying Enchanments, Sage Discourse) Medical Attention, Minor (Consultation or Diagnosis by Physician, Wise-Woman) Medical Attention, Serious (Tending to Deadly Wounds, Crippled Limbs) Foot Massage Foot Massage, Satyr Masseuse Courier Service, Per Day’s Normal Distance (add 1d4 days for actual delivery time) High-Speed Dispatch Service, Carried Along Post-Roads via Waystations † Courier Service, Armed & Top Priority, Per Day’s Normal Distance (The courier makes his best speed and takes no other client) Artisan’s (Printmaker, Sculptor) Commission, Per Day Craftsman’s (Carpenter, Stonemason, Armorer) Commission, Per Day Master Craftsman’s Commission, Per Day Laborer (Unskilled), Per Day (Double Rate if Labor is Clearly Hazardous) Manservant or Valet, Per Day Cargo Handler, Per Day Guard (Ordinary), Per Day Minstrel or Other Performer, Per Day Prostitute (Ordinary), Per Visit Wilderness Guide, Per Day Guard (Experienced Soldier w/Good Gear), Per Day Engineer or Master Builder, Per Day (To Plan or Oversee The Work of Others) Mercenary Adventurer, Per Day Spy, Per Day Assassin, Single Local Contract With No Special Circumstances Hire a Ship & Crew, Per Week Hire a Ship & Crew, Combat-Ready (Privateers/Mercenaries), Per Week

$$5,000 $$8,000

$$250 $$500 $$1,000 $$2,000 $$3,000 $$3,500 $$50,000 $$65,000 $$2,500 $$5,000,000

† Per day at 6× normal road speeds. Services are owned (and often limited to use by) the Merchant Brotherhoods. ‡ Considered critical by some (mainly in Laöch) for military morale in an extended campaign.

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Water Transport Fishing-Boat, Tiny (One-Man) Rowboat Ship’s Boat River Barge (Simple, Few Frills, Two Ton Capacity) Ship, Longship (Orgalt) Ship, Knarr (Orgalt, Laöch, Yem) Ship, Galley (Koval, Birah, Boru) Ship, Caravel

Ship, Caravel, Armored (Plated Hull, Reinforced Masts and Interior) $$300 $$1,000 $$2,000 $$12,000 $$30,000 $$120,000 $$400,000 $$600,000

Particular Treasures: Four Banned Books Uresians have made use of simple xylography for centuries, but the mechanical printing press dates to 1319, when two Kovali prints-makers, Urio and Vitassi, presented their invention proudly to the court of Empress Voriis. Shrewdly recognizing the machine’s capacity to spread dissent and disseminate state secrets, she had Urio and Vitassi strapped to their machine, kicked for an hour by children, then set on fire. Despite this precaution, Urio and Vitassi’s ideas had been observed, word spread, and others re-created their invention. Civilized men chuckle disapprovingly at the madness of the Empress, but virtually everyone in power seems to privately wish she’d had the children kick a little harder. Banned books are an idea as ancient as ink, but in the dawning age of print, book-banning has become a daily device of statecraft. Four works of mass-produced controversy: Naughty, Naughty: The ribald Naked Danced the Warlord (THORVALD PRANSES WITH HIS THINGEE OUT) lives up to its title’s promise: a rollicking comedy of sex, mistaken identity, deceit, and misuse of livestock, all starring King Thorvald IV himself. Penned by “His Majesty’s Anonymous Confidante,” (THORVALD’S PLAYMATE AMONG THE AKKURSED NAMELESS) the work isn’t an original; it lifts every detail from a Sindran stage-play, recasting it in sturdy Dwarvish prose and replacing the central figure (a fictional noble of an unnamed realm) with Orgalt’s monarch. Banned on pain of beheading in Orgalt, it sells like honeycakes in Laöch and elsewhere. In Winnow, it’s spawned a series of light operas, including four original sequels. Bottled Gods: Some speculate that “Madame Mapleworthy” deliberately wrote a book to be banned. While the death of the gods is simple truth to many serious scholars, religion is a booming business and potent force. Blood on the Vine manages to skewer a dozen Rinden churches, expose the darker practices of three merchant brotherhoods, and tie them all together in a grand conspiracy of wine-selling shenanigans. The book closes with an appendix of crowd-pleasing poetry praising Lyrica (see page 27), raising the eyebrows of the Lyric Brotherhood, but nobody knows who the real “Mapleworthy” might be, and even the publisher is unknown, leaving no mark on the book to


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Ship, Celari Thundership (Prior to Arming, but Inherently Armored) Reckoner (Enchanted Navigation Aid) Daily Operations Costs For Merchant Caravel (Crew Pay, Provisions, Repairs, Docking) Rigging Overhaul Enchanted Sails (Cheap Spell-Ensorcelled) Enchanted Sails (Best-Quality Dreed Sails)

$$1,800,000 $$14,000,000 $$300 $$1,200 $$3,000 $$12,000 $$40,000

identify the prints-maker. The book never lays a hand on the nobility, but King Argot, under pressure from those it does fondle, felt he had no choice but to ban it, citing the lack of a publisher’s mark as a “crime of deceit against the realm.” Now, the minstrels sing of the King’s own weakness, caving to the vanity of his wealthier subjects. Fish Story: Not every banned book is a fun summer read. Fishing: Being A Chronicle of Fishing Practices of Middle Temphis Catchers of Fish And The Character and Properties of Those Fish and Sea-Beasts They Hunt and Harvest In The Course of Their Daily Catching is a brain-dessicating 2,900-page treatise on just what it says on the tin. The controversy is this: in volume eight, the author (Habalt Ginnerly) includes several maps and charts based on his travels and observations, each an order of magnitude more accurate and detailed than those used by the Grand Duke’s own navy. Weeks of torture established the innocence of the author’s intent, earning him a quietly apologetic burial. Ownership of the book remains a capital crime, but the other seven volumes (lavishly illustrated but lacking sensitive cartography) remain available. Magic Majesty: The Manual of Maranax is an exhaustive codex of shadow and illusion spells, handscribed and illuminated at the Morundath Academy hundreds of years ago. It isn’t a secret tome; it’s available to students and visitors by appointment or loan. Hand-copying the work (a year’s careful labor for most students) is a traditional punishment for truancy, so the library has several copies on hand, each 30-plus pounds of vellum, gold leaf, hastlevine thread and dragon-wing leather. When an engraving shop began publishing a tidy printed edition, the lorekeepers of the Morundath Academy took the matter to their archmage. Their argument wasn’t that Manual was privy knowledge, only that the Manual, as a genuine codex of lore, shouldn’t be debased by reducing it to an affordable edition stripped of majesty and, frankly, mass (one-fourth of the original, even with the addition of a much-needed index and glossary). The archmage agreed that a printed hardcover didn’t qualify as a “real” book, and banned the Manual from sale or ownership by fellows or students, on the condition that no one would bother him with this sort of complaint again. Years, and dozens of compact codices later, the Manual of Maranax remains the only one forbidden at Morundath.







Notes on Naming Here are some notes plucked from my personal toolbox, provided as an “emergency kit” for those painful moments when you have a character 99% done, but the blank “Name” space still haunts you. Bear in mind that you’ve strayed past the worldbook at this point – this is gamer-to-gamer material, not at all coy about the kinds of clichés and hokum I enjoy (not that Uresia is ever very coy about that). First rule: don’t let anxiety get you. I take playful liberties all the time by way of Anglicizing, Westernizing, Socks-offCasualizing and This-Dimension-izing Uresian names and terms. Just as Giovanni Caboto and Christoforo Columbo become “John Cabot” and “Christopher Columbus” in American history books, Carator - Flofula Shitzwyggle Part 4 This Time It’s Personal becomes “His Majesty, King Timberfell IV” in this one … but I also use unvarnished Uresian terms, when it feels right: vernia, disankt go, Achla Doru and Duir Chore and so on. Sometimes I zig (I prefer to render Ganrodor as “Blind Owl City”) and sometimes I zag (I leave “Smoketown,” just across the sea, as Borindor). I mention this to dispel any concerns about “formal accuracy.” Zig if you feel like zigging, zag if zagging feels right. If someone frowns at you about it, lean over and lick them gently on the nose.

Cultural Convention Names evocative of Uresia’s own tongues are most valuable for populating the campaign with shopkeepers, guards, and damsels-in-distress … but sometimes, you’ll want a character’s name to emphasize that he’s got roots (or, if he’s a Mushroom Troll, rhizomes). Beastmen: For any of the Hramath, you can find some very good names in folklore, but whether it’s pushing it to have an Ursoid named Bruin or a Fox-headed Kobold named Reynard depends on your gaming buddies, how much they read, and how hard they punch. That aside, it’s worth remembering that most Beastmen cultures set great store by nicknames earned through deed and habit, and that otherwise Beastmen (and Wise Beasts) tend to be named according to the culture they live in or among (for many, this means referring to the Helt or Lochria entries later in this section). Boru: Traditional Boru names evoke the exotic east in a mixed-bag, 1940s-Hollywood-gala sort of way … the


Ottoman Empire crashing drunkenly into Baghdad after a long night of playing Prince of Persia, singing songs from The Road to Morocco and composing sexy limericks about the Parthians that won’t make any sense once the drugs wear off. A sampling of names (selected as a crosssection of the most common sounds) for men: Abayyad, Amadan, Brana, Darim, Ensar/Ennasar, Fravid, Gaiir, Harun, Hin, Hirazaan, Khazin, Mashid, Nadur, Osiman, Rashir, Selidan, Sindah, Tava, Thargon, Tramluk, Umassid, Virizan, Yanjar. For women: Bursa, Dari, Dazjuk, Gavmura, Ibrani, Luri, Nossa, Peri, Qajilha, Ralahvi, Selayma, Shalai, Tari, Ulus, Walu. Celar: If you were a god mighty enough to pick up Sweden and shake it like a salt-shaker over Switzerland, you’d create a mix of sounds that would be eerily reminiscent of Celar, including the helpless screams of unfortunate Swedes plummeting to their doom (plummeting to one’s doom is a respectably common Celari demise). A sampling of names for men: Aartold, Alsden, Axiel, Berigan, Breyer, Ernost, Gorien, Gothian, Gustaf, Haldrich, Hewenn, Karn, Leonhard, Luciaan, Lyrd, Ougust, Pall, Regas, Riberto, Ruther, Talmar, Thrigall, Thurn, Tigano, Ulagano, Ulbrecht, Uri, Vasel, Vustav. For women: Alga, Annosk, Elvetia, Gerda, Gretel, Husel, Ilsa, Josyn, Lucera, Margara, Malissi, Pristi, Ricina, Rosa, Sheiri, Ulrika, Umea, Ursta. For a super-quick surname, just stick “Von” in front of any harsh monosyllable or “Brach/Vach” in front of a softer one. Dreed: Traditional Dreed names have strong Rinden foundations (q.v.), with scattered echoes of French-oid sounds (reflecting some of the coastal Rinden counties) and the names of Celar. Toss in an epithet relating to food, emeralds, the pursuit of pleasure, or reverence for the noble rat, and you’ve got Dreed naming down solid. Dwarf (Orgalt & Laöch): Galtish names draw from a kind of “Varangian” tradition, by which I mean they’re a bit Norse and a bit Russian, except when they’re not. Secondary names enjoy above-average popularity in the Dwarvish lands, with particular favor for patronymics and clan-names. When applying patronymics, pseudoNorse style is more common in Orgalt; pseudo-Russian in Laöch. The same holds for the sounds in general, but it’s a slushy line, leaving plenty of Slavic-oid names (and burly Viking ones) on both sides. On the other hand, sometimes it’s best to just name a Dwarf for something Dwarvish, unencumbered by Russo-Viking influences or anything akin to them. For a very Dwarfy moniker, construct a burly, hirsute compound word from compo-

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The Appendices

them to familiar naming conventions (see the section on Rinden/Tembrian naming for one example of how) turning a fantasy-tinged name like “Thrum” into something earthier like Thrumley or Thrumwold.

Naming By Nature A brainstorming tool for completely made-up names: pick a topic you want to associate with your character (in reference to personality, nature, homeland, whatever), then list a bunch of words you associate with that topic, just streaming them as fast as you can onto paper. Finally, pull your character’s name out of that list of words, either by plucking words whole, shuffling the sounds around, or changing parts of them (see the entry for Temphis).

When I indulge in this method, it’s not uncommon for me to Google up the resulting “nonsense” words out of curiosity, only to find out that I’ve accidentally re-created a genuine name. Of course, you have to take care with tone: don’t name a character “Dusty Vellum” or “Dog-Eared Booke” unless you’re angling for goofiness. To enhance the above, do some quick research on your chosen topic to find words lying off the beaten trail. If you don’t mind the risks, it can be fun to name a character using obscure but genuine terms (or even the names of semi-famous people). That said, the line between “obscure” and “obvious” is a slippery one. It’s almost certainly pushing it to name a Celari balloonist “Montgolfier” ... but “De Rozier” might slip by unnoticed. Similarly, “Mercator” is too obvious a joke for a navigator’s name, but a name like “Loran Lambert” sounds good, isn’t obvious, and gets two references for the price of one. With similar logic (if we dare call it that), we might end up with a moneylender named Bourse, an alchemist named Gallipot, a necromancer named Tumulus Graves, or a dandyfied coward named Buff Orpington (genuine and shameless examples from my own campaigns).

Example: A Loreseeker, mage or priest probably has a strong interest in books and scrolls, so a word-list might include tube, roll, page, vellum, ink, binding, glue, thread, paper, parchment, quill, dog-ear, crease, musty, dusty, leather, shelves, tome, script, library, librarian, archive … Looking over the list, we can find a couple of words that sound immediately like familiar names (Dusty, Page) and spot a lot of words that could be pressed into service as fantasy-names right away (Vellum, Quill). More important, we see a lot of words that we can mutate into passable fantasy names with just a few changes: “Vellum” can become Vellus, Volm, or Vallum. “Quill” can become Quell, Quile, or Quall. Playing around with the sound of “Thread” might give us Threm, Threll, Threg, or Thrum.

For extra extra credit, combine this method with a foreign-language dictionary to zero in on an appropriate cultural sound (to make a Laöchrian wizard, make a list of Russian words relating to books and scrolls, just as you’d use English words for Temphis, Portuguese or Spanish for Winnow, and so on). Online resources make this a snap for nearly every language on Earth.

The list you create is just a starting point, a collection of real-word sounds you can play with. Wander wherever it leads you, even if the result makes no clear reference to where you started. This method will help you create fantasy names that feel grounded in familiar sounds. To ground them even further, you can fuse nents suggesting metal, stone, mining, fire & smoke, tools, weapons, craftwork … or the sounds, smells, and textures you might associate with them. Toss in a few references to beards, blood, strength, sturdiness and resolve, and you’ve got the traditional Dwarf-name catalogue at your fingertips. Plunder it without shame. Elf (Anandriel & Birah): As with Dwarves, there are Elf-naming traditions entirely divorced from the literal sounds of any particular Elvish tongue. The method equals the Dwarvish one, with different targets of evocation: leaves, flowers, moonlight, sweet wine, the morning mist, dewdrops, gentle melancholy, harping, and the wisdom and nobility of the wild. Elves also display an occasional fondness for lengthy, descriptive epithets or surnames, exuding a mossy sort of “born in the mud at Woodstock” quality. If you have dignity concerns (names like “Sweetsong Moonglow” have been proven to erode dignity in laboratory animals) opt for more literally Elvish sounds. Names traditional to Anandriel and Birah tend to be brief, soft, and lyrical … so much so that it’s sometimes difficult for non-Elves to spot the differences between masculine and feminine names, but in truth an Elvish


name’s ending hints at both gender and homeland. For men’s names, endings like –lo or –sh or –thril/throl/thral often indicate Birah origins (Emresh, Iolo, Vythral), while endings like –nd or –lm or –rn suggest Anandriel (Valm, Thorond, Yriarn). Elf girls from Birah sport any of a hundred names ending in –yn (Anwyn, Iravyn, Liryn, Toryn) or –ain, while equivalent names in Anandriel are more likely to end in –yl or –iel (Anwyl, Iraviel, Lyryl, Toriel). Feminine names ending in vowels or –ss/–s are equally common in all Elvish lands. Elu Isles: The Elu have no language of their own and, consequently, no real naming conventions except those they borrow from their neighboring homelands. Those who partake in the noble professions of buccaneer or privateer, however, often take rum-soaked pirating names … usually to paint over their true identities, but also because a pirate without a proper piratin’ name is like a cannon without balls. Har! Helt: The sounds of Heltish are a kind of quasi-Eurosemi-Slav slurry, sometimes drawing on Hungarian, Croatian and others. It’s common to hear sounds suggestive of roundness, solidity, heaviness, and earthiness …

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not literally, in the manner of Dwarves, but just borrowing the textures in a way that borders on the echoic/onomatopoetic. Vary things by species: Aracor, for example, often have loftier names, drawn from words that suggest flight, sunlight, talons and wind, while Ursoids or Minotaur get extra-heavy, growlier names as a rule. Some species-neutral examples for men: Aloc, Bela, Blugmar, Brazlo, Broz, Granjo, Grongyos, Gundel, Lanos, Molnar, Mosni, Orno, Orpand, Rugon, Sarvad, Stola, Vasef. And for women: Agya, Buré, Dravolna, Gratka, Gyula, Halhya, Margit, Olfola, Rouna, Yaja. Koval: Traditional Kovali names might remind us of Roman emperors, Greek philosophers, or stage magicians. Some common names seem borrowed from stars and constellations (Agena, Gorganea, Procyon, Regor, Rastaban), while others seem cribbed from a stack of Goscinni/Uderzo comics, or from Latin names for the genus or species of animals (especially when the animal in question suggests the personality of the person). For a quick and authentic Kovalese man’s name, just pick a sound (or just a consonant) and add the ending –ero. Bero, Fero, Kero, Mero, Nero, Tero and Vero are all common names for Kovali men, and the –ero ending appears in more complex names as well (Vadero, Rigelero, Moldero, etc). Other common suffixes (a mix of masculine, feminine and dual-purpose) include –tinius, -tus, -us, -eon, -ester, -ides, -cellus, -ciple, -tulus, -thius, -as, -das, -ndi, -nea, -ros, -rae, -ra, -avax, -axus and -annax. The wealthier Kovali families often still have names showcasing the “villain consonants” V, K, Z and X, and it raises the question: if you name a boy Vero Tyrannax of House Krang, is it really his fault if he’s plagued by urges to conquer the world? Lochria: Lochrian names are fundamentally Heltish (q.v.) much of the time, but Lochria shares some sounds with its nearest Human neighbor, Winnow, with Italian leanings (mainly because a Satyr with a vaguely Latin name sounds exceedingly ready for seductive action and romantic swashbuckling). Mushroom Troll: As with Beastmen, there are temptations here to be carefully considered, but given that I once named a Mourfa villainess “Amanita” (she had a sidekick named Tawny Grisette) I live in a house of very fragile glass, and have no moral ground from which to discourage you from references to stem and sporophore, gill and mycelium (“good old Gill Mycelium … he’s a fun guy”). That said, the traditions of the Mourfa lean toward humble one- and two-syllable names like Aru, Bog, Frul, Grilm, Gwam, Hu, Lavus, Mimna, Moga, Tafga, Waga, Xolga and Zaw. These provide a simpler, earthy antitode to overwrought Sindran arcanobabble (see Sindra, below), in much the same way that a Yemite fisherman tends to have a more sensible name than the Necromancer-Duke who sups daily on his soul. Rinden: Rinden names resemble straight-up English to emphasize that Rinden is Uresia’s homeland for trad-fantasy in a very jousty, banner-fluttery way. The most common names are things like Tom and Jack and Eleanor and Elizabeth, and a quick-fix surname can be so easy it’s unfair: just snatch a monosyllable out of thin


air, and tack on a Tembrian suffix (-hugh, -ford, -ton, -blin, -ston, -wyck, -kin, -man, -son, -by, -worth, -house, -thorn, -wold, -ridge, -bly, -lake, -beck, -sbury, -wright, -land, -ham, -den, -field, -wood, -ley, -lin, -ings, -den, -well, -mond, etc.). This works for any realm where Rinden-style Tembrian is common (especially Dreed, Temphis, and the Elu Isles), although in fairness the same method (with a different list of tack-on sounds) can work for any culture on the grave (see the Koval entry for another example). Sindra: Sindran names are chosen more carefully than any in Uresia, because Sindra knows well the power of words, and that every sound contains essences that can (perhaps) bite your head off and spit it out as a fireball. Sindrans handle language the way you or I might handle nitroglycerine … which is overdoing it, really, but we can chalk it up to an understandable caution, given what goes on in the academies of high sorcery. Sindran names are magical and they aren’t shy about it, rolling out a buffet of syllables twisted through Boru and Elvish sounds, bubbling angrily through an alembic and then collapsing, spent and satisfied, onto a silken pillow stuffed with shredded metaphor and rare owl feathers (surnames, ironically, are frequently monosyllables). Some sample names for men: Abracar, Ilamrial, Lyralmonar, Mullanis, Nazadriab, Rhianathor, Romyridas, Salazario, Thorolo, Unagrian, Varanazi, Vyraliomir. For women: Danyalyrin, Illestria, Mallefruon, Rhiamynna, Triazorani. Slime: There’s a moldy old cliché about names-unpronounceable-to-Humans. In Uresia, the Slimes embody it, with birth-names that sound like half-second bursts of bubbling noises (there remains a chance that this, like many other aspects of Slime society, is just a racewide practical joke on the world, or even a convenient excuse to cover for Slime flatulence). Whatever the case, Slimes tend to answer to nicknames given them by their non-Slime friends, and some choose such names for themselves. Sometimes these are ordinary human names (simple names like Chuck or Bob are common), but just as often they’re cartoonish sound-effect names (Squeak, Foop, Veetch, Bamf) or descriptive nicknames (Speedy, Charmer, Diggers, Splits). To roleplay your Slime’s “birth name,” grab a beverage, insert a drinking-straw, and blow. Temphis: Temphisians love neologistic names and – especially in the cities – are able to handpick sounds from a broader buffet of language and dialect than anywhere else in Uresia. The best way to name a Temphisian is probably to take an ordinary modern name or word of just about any sort, and just mess with it a bit, swapping a consonant or trading out a vowel (Fredric, for example, might become Fredrin, Fremric or Gedric). Of course, Temphis is also a Tembrian culture descended originally from Dreed settlers, so for a more “classical” Temphisian name, dig near those roots. Winnow: The default accent for speaking aloud as a Winnowite is a (European) Spanish one (but with ‘S’ frequently voiced as ‘Z’) so names in Winnow are rendered mainly as pseudo-Spanish or pseudo-Portuguese, with just a dash of pseudo-Italian as we move toward

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Stuff Names

� Virtues: A common naming tradition operates on the theory that a girl named “Chastity” is less likely to collect bedpost-notches before she can be handed off with the dowry. If anything, this approach is just begging for trouble, but that’s why it’s popular for girls from good families (or families hoping to be better) to be named things like Faith, Hope, Prudence, Constance, Patience, Charity and so on. Since not everyone quite gets the hang of it, there are also girls with names like Candor, Punctuality, and Authenticity.

Names evoking real-world stuff are blessed with a kind of timelessness, neither aggressively archaic nor jarringly modern. Better still, they pack a punch in terms of evoking imagery or implying character. A starter set: � Abstracts, Adjectives & Comparisons: August, Bastion, Breach, Bulwark, Cardinal, Champion, Daring, Fine, Gentle, Grace, Haven, Humble, Noble, Powers, Quick, Strong, Wild, Worthy. � Landscape & Architecture: Arbor, Banks, Barrows, Bower, Bridges, Brook, Canyon, Castle, Chapel, Cliff, Cottage, Creek, Croft, Dale, Dell, Den, Dungeon, Fen, Field, Ford, Forest, Fort, Gable, Garden, Glade, Glen, Graves, Grove, Gulley, Hall, Heath, Hill, Jetty, Lake, Land, Lea, Lodge, Lowland, Marsh, Mead, Meadow, Mills, Moor, Parks, Pond, Ridge, Rivers, Ruins, Sands, Sward, Temple, Towers, Vale, Valley, Waterhouse, Waters, Wold, Yard. � Flora & Fauna: Alder, Apple, Aspen, Basil, Bean, Beech, Benza, Berry, Birch, Bird, Bloom, Blossom, Boar, Bull, Bullock, Carrot, Cherry, Crow, Daisy, Dragon, Drake, Eagle, Elk, Fish, Flora, Fox, Gar, Ginger, Griffin, Gull, Hare, Hart, Hawk, Hazel, Ivy, Jack, Jennet, Laurel, Linden, Lynx, Marten, Moose, Mouse, Oak, Pepper, Phoenix, Pine, Rabbit, Radish, Ram, Rat, Roe, Rook, Rose, Rosemary, Rukh, Rush, Shrew, Spruce, Stag, Starling, Thorn, Thrush, Thurse, Violet, Viper, Vole, Wolf.

� Craft & Calling: Alderman, Almner, Baker, Barber, Bravo, Butcher, Butler, Carpenter, Carter, Chandler, Chapman, Clark, Cobbler, Collier, Conqueror, Cook, Cooper, Cordwainer, Courier, Currier, Cutter, Draper, Dresser, Dudman, Falconer, Fisher, Fletcher, Fuller, Gardener, Glover, Granger, Harbinger, Harper, Harvester, Hawker, Hunter, King, Magister, Mason, Mercer, Merchant, Messenger, Miller, Miner, Page, Painter, Parson, Piper, Planter, Plowman, Plumber, Porter, Pressman, Prospector, Ranger, Roper, Sewster, Shoemaker, Singer, Skinner, Slinger, Smith (Goldsmith, Hammersmith, Whitesmith), Steward, Sybil, Tailor, Tanner, Tapster, Tarrier, Thug, Trapper, Walker, Weaver, Webster, Wright (Millwright, Wainwright, Wheelwright), and many, many more. In Uresia, the adventuring professions are common enough that, in addition to all the Tom Coopers and Tom Butlers, there are those with names like Tom Smiter, Tom Caster, and Tom Rogue.

� Time & Season: April, Autumn, Dawn, Day, Egan, Eve, Frost, Gelmir, Holiday, June, Leisa, May, Midnight, Morning, Night, Noon, Rains, Reagol, Summer, Winters.

… And the list of lists can stretch to infinity. Colors, building materials, cardinal directions, royal (and other) titles, moods, foods, and many more. Need a name? Grab a dictionary, and pick a word.

the coastal towns (a set of sounds Winnow shares with Celar and bleeds onto Lochria). A further subset of Winnowite names is those that couldn’t pass muster even as PseudoSpanish, but which still sound good in the accent. The steady influx of extradimensional influences on Winnowite society insures that Winnowite names sometimes enjoy an unexpected slant of alien character. A sampling of names for men: Alofonso, Basta, Brastalia, Dragor, Dumarro, Huante, Madrio, Ragama, Ricadra, Rinando, Spagera. For women: Dominata, Isabel, Luisa, Reina, Tereza.

shrouds, barrows and other things funereal. Some sample names for men: Amlyn, Balish, Calligan, Dall, Dargin, Donnor, Draelach, Eamon, Graleg, Griff/Griffel, Hamble, Jaeme, Laerd, Moddy, Reese, Rennock, Roan. For women: Amris, Durla, Eighla, Haldred, Inna, Kaleen, Myrin, Saera, Taera, Winnif.

Yem: To name an ordinary Yemite (the kind who shear the wool, farm the tubers, brew the beer and catch the fish), delve into the native Duir Chore, a jumble of sounds evoking certain chilly, damp places here on Earth (via Gaelic, Manx, and Welsh sounds). Since Yemish is also a magical language with distant ties to Imuel, some Yemite names are a little bit Elvish, in that mopy bishonen way, or soaked with notes of dread, tragedy, fear and hopelessness, reminding us that Yem is the is part of heaven’s grave that’s even … gravier … than the others. Yemite nobles are less likely to have Yemish-sounding names at all, leaning as they do toward references to corpses,


When you want to root your character’s name geographically but the feel of his homeland’s names isn’t quite right for you, try using the notes for the country over the mountains or across the sea. Conquest, trade and emigration mean that if you want your Sindran mercenary to have a Dreed name, there’s never anything wrong with that. This goes double for Kovali names (or at least Kovali-sounding ones), which are almost as popular outside Koval as in it, spreading across the entire grave. While civilized folk make haste to pooh-pooh the wicked habits of the old emperors and Mad Empresses, imagery evoking the glory days of the Empire is romantic to many – especially among wealthy folk eager to appear cultured, enrobing their families in a thin-spirited whiff of regal importance. In the Rindenland, where the grasp of Kovali is particularly weak, there are “regal” names translating literally as “The Unrelenting Launderer” and “Toes Upon the Muffin.”

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Big Table of LifeAltering Moments Need some randomness in your life (or the life of your PC)? Here’s a big table of life events, tuned specifically to heaven’s grave. To read it, roll three d10s and read them in order as a d1000 result. Like Uresia itself, the table is open-ended, and coy about the details. To make the simplest use of it, just roll 3-5 times, jot the results down, then stare at them as they challenge you to assemble them into the most important moments of a character’s life. This works best when you don’t have anything in mind for your character, and you need a gentle jog to the noggin to loose your creativity. My favorite method, though, is to apply the table to characters who are complete (more or less) in the present tense, but need a little more background to round them out. Begin by selecting some facets of the character’s design and questioning them: � Why did my Mistress of Nasty Dark Magic turn away from the benign healing arts of her mother and grandmother? � Why does my Sporting Chef get grouchy in the company of Dwarves? � Why is my Slime so deeply in love with brisket? Roll once for each question. The “answer” the table provides will be no answer at all, really, just a breadcrumb that may lead to one ... a creative exercise in drawing lines between here and there. Taking the middle example and rolling a few results (refer to the table as we go), we might get: � Years ago, I experienced the Laöchrian railroad in a way that rattled my teeth and churned my guts, and the Dwarves on the train just laughed at me (dice rolled 6-4-7). � Visiting Driev as a representative of Dreed, I cooked my very best at an exhibition meant to impress the Dwarf lords. They didn’t even sample the food. (dice rolled 5-5-9). � I fell in love with one of the dancers at the Chainmail Bikini in Shadow River. She took me as her lover, but then she broke my heart, plus three bones in my left foot (dice rolled 3-3-0). Some rolls will make more sense than others, but any roll can be interpreted in a way that makes sense, if you’re in the mood to wrestle with reason (if you’re not, just roll again). Game Masters will find the table handy as a kind of random encounter generator, since virtually anything the PCs might face is bound to be potentially life-changing! Use it to throw a few monkeywrenches (the pleasant kind), into your campaign.


001-004 That smell! You’ll never, ever forget that smell. 005-008 You changed your mind about family. 009-012 Someone very old taught you something even older. 013-016 You ran away. 017-020 Things kept happening to you that aren’t at all what you’d choose. 021-024 You were crippled. 025-028 You got a pet/beast companion. 029-032 You agreed to an experiment. 033-036 You felt alone, misunderstood, and surrounded by idiots. 037-040 An object you were carrying became the catalyst for an event. 041-044 You were on the brink of starvation. 045-048 Grief drove you to make changes in your life. 049-052 You became attracted to someone you never would have found attractive before. 053-056 Someone forgave you. 057-060 You awoke very differently than you were when you went to sleep. 061-064 You died. That wasn’t fun. 065-068 You priced yourself out of the market. 069-072 You averted violence with a fair contest of a non-violent skill. 073-076 Ancient people revealed themselves to you. 077-080 There was a painful fall from grace. 081-084 You set foot on a caravel for the first time. 085-088 You were treated differently because of your sex. 089-092 You stumbled into being the recipient of a curse, haunting or enchantment. 093-096 One parent abandoned you, leaving you to care for the other. 097-100 You had to make do with less. 101-104 A long-lost memory resurfaced. 105-108 You found yourself in a position where one friend would benefit and another would hurt, and the choice was up to you. 109-112 A gang of bullies picked you as a favorite target for a while. 113-116 You were taught a local trick. 117-120 You told a lie. 121-124 Something was possessed by an extra-dimensional entity. 125-128 Your sense of self-worth got tangled up in what you own instead of who you are. 129-132 You saw the light of judgment cast by the Arbiters, and know the Arbiters are real. 133-136 Travel broadened your horizons. 137-140 You discovered you have a special talent. 141-144 You saw firsthand just how drugged (drunk, etc) people can really get. 145-148 You never realized you could withstand that kind of pain. 149-152 You were too cautious, and missed out on something great.

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153-156 You found romance where it was least convenient. 157-160 You discovered a truth behind a legend. 161-164 You had to wait a long time. 165-168 A death deeply affected you. 169-172 You had a wild time in the big city. 173-176 You did it your way, despite the urgings of others. 177-180 Someone died before completing an important task. 181-184 You were severely beaten by a pack of wandering Bandit Slimes. 185-188 You learned how bittersweet it can be for someone to know exactly how long they have to live. 189-192 You got lost. 193-196 You were served some delicious food that you’ve never forgotten. 197-200 You were treated differently because of your race. 201-204 You witnessed an inspiring feat or performance. 205-208 A child was born. 209-212 You met your greatest love, a love that will define your life, in many ways, forever. 213-216 You experimented with magic. 217-220 You found a hidden place and made it your own secret spot. 221-224 Those you hated and feared made a sacrifice to aid you. 225-228 You had a great night at a tavern. 229-232 You fought an honorable duel. 233-236 You were left behind. 237-240 You heard a song or poem that moved you. 241-244 You were experimented on. 245-248 There was a particularly harsh winter. 249-252 You ended up similar, in some ways, to someone you met once. 253-256 You fell in love. 257-260 You didn’t mean to be spying/eavesdropping, but oh my! 261-264 You experienced an important moment of forgiveness, reconciliation, or mutual understanding. 265-268 Someone felt threatened by your success, and - filled with resentment - took action. 269-272 You crossed social boundaries. 273-276 You had closed that chapter of your life forever, but something opened it again. 277-280 Your parents (or one of them) pushed you to achieve some dream they were never able to fulfill. 281-284 You stood by your principles, and in the process made powerful enemies. 285-288 You learned about something a parent or other relative did or experienced during the wars with Koval. 289-292 You were sent away to a school.


293-296 Someone you saw as an equal treated you as an underling. 297-300 You got to go flying. 301-304 You learned a valuable lesson about the extent to which appearances can deceive. 305-308 Someone vanished without explanation. 309-312 You broke up (or prevented) a fight. 313-316 When you killed it, you didn’t realize it would affect you that way. 317-320 You were treated differently because of your family’s reputation. 321-324 You did the right thing - and were punished for it. 325-328 You served as a soldier. 329-332 You were seduced. 333-336 You tried a drug you’d never experienced before. 337-340 You were in a rage. 341-344 You attended a faire or festival. 345-348 You discovered a tattoo or marking on your own body that was never there before. 349-352 You traveled to the Troll Lands, or encountered someone who had. 353-356 When the war came, all the plans had to be laid aside to adapt. 357-360 A childhood friend was of a very different class/caste/race, and when adulthood came the friendship suffered. 361-364 You aren’t from heaven’s grave at all. 365-368 You were imprisoned. 369-372 You made a foolish vow. 373-376 You took an interest in the local sport. 377-380 The powers of astrology became apparent when they nearly killed you. 381-384 You lost a talent you were proud of ... or discovered that you never really had it. 385-388 Turns out those intense nightmares really meant something. 389-392 Some friends gave you the encouragement you needed. 393-396 You sampled an unknown potion. 397-400 You built something. 401-404 You destroyed something. 405-408 You observed a great craftsman creating something. 409-412 It hit someone else, but you’re pretty sure it was meant for you. 413-416 You discarded something (or someone) that made you uneasy. 417-420 You ran afoul of some guards. 421-424 You met someone outrageous. 425-428 You shouldn’t have opened it without pausing to consider what might happen. 429-432 Someone was very rude. 433-436 You were mesmerized. 437-440 You were born with a trait that had to be hidden, for your protection.

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441-444 You discovered that a friend of yours has an unusual heritage. 445-448 A kindred spirit came into your life. 449-452 You were inspired to re-evaluate a particular person/culture/profession/race. 453-456 You learned that you were intended for a purpose ... a purpose you don’t like at all. 457-460 Something you depended on died, crumbled, faded away, or left. 461-464 When it came down to it, it had to be either you or her. 465-468 You were so very scared. 469-472 You were among the few survivors (or the only one) of a disaster that killed many. 473-476 You entered into an uneasy alliance with someone you couldn’t even see. 477-480 You spent some time alone, far away from the things of Man or Troll. 481-484 You made a deal or trade. 485-488 You just learned it to help your family; everyone else took it a lot more seriously. 489-492 You were visited in a dream. 493-496 You set out to investigate a secret or question. 497-500 You tasted fame. 501-504 You were magically transformed; you used to be something or someone physically different. 505-508 You learned that you are the last of your kind. 509-512 You found something very, very funny. 513-516 You were summoned by a powerful wizard. 517-520 You began to suspect that there are important parts of your own past you know nothing about. 521-524 Someone else was supposed to do something, but they weren’t able to (or refused), leaving you to fill their shoes. 525-528 You gained new respect for something you’d previously dismissed or disliked. 529-532 You became aware of a terrible injustice. 533-536 You discovered just how angry you can really get. 537-540 Someone got too much power, too suddenly. 541-544 You got to know an intelligent animal who doesn’t normally reveal its intelligence. 545-548 You tried to achieve something good, and instead achieved something terrible. 549-552 You spied on someone. 553-556 You witnessed firsthand the wrath of the Sea Dragon, and know that the Sea Dragon is real. 557-560 You were overlooked. 561-564 You strongly believed something, until that day crushed your belief. 565-568 You took shelter from a terrible storm. 569-572 Someone underestimated you. 573-576 You broke a promise. 577-580 People looked to you for leadership. 581-584 You discovered a curious stone or piece of jewelry.


585-588 The army came to your hometown. 589-592 You never realized you had that fear, until you came face to face with it. 593-596 You saw a true manifestation of the Wine God, and know that god is real. 597-600 You nearly died. 601-604 You uncovered a conspiracy to undermine the honorable nature of a sport you admire. 605-608 You left something behind with a friend or loved one. 609-612 You were sentenced to be executed. 613-616 You solved a puzzle or riddle. 617-620 You worked hard to become more disciplined. 621-624 You found a sense of kinship among those not your kin. 625-628 You became an aficionado of some art or craft. 629-632 You received a cryptic message. 633-636 Your side lost because you weren’t there. 637-640 You were an only child. 641-644 You kept something unusual for good luck. 645-648 You went on a long and difficult journey. 649-652 You saw something noble and worth living for where others saw only trash/poison/a joke. 653-656 You rode in a machine. 657-660 An encounter with a nature spirit gave you permanent ties/sympathy to a particular type of locale (trees, ponds, marshes, etc). 661-664 A traumatic experience instilled in you some kind of phobia or aversion. 665-668 You encountered a ghost. 669-672 You regained a memory that you’d lost or suppressed. 673-676 You realized that your emotions don’t work the way others’ do. 677-680 Everyone believed you were dead ... and you believed they’d be happy to be wrong. 681-684 To avoid offending someone, you had to do/say/eat/drink/experience something unpleasant. 685-688 If you’d known what it was, you wouldn’t have licked it. 689-692 You performed what you now regard as a very reckless stunt. 693-696 The parents who raised you aren’t your real family. 697-700 You listened when nobody else was willing to. 701-704 Someone fell in love with you, but you didn’t feel the same way. 705-708 You discovered a cave, grotto, hidden grove or other secret place near where you lived. 709-712 You were blessed by something you feel was truly holy. 713-716 Your village needed a hero. 717-720 What seemed like an ordinary job opened up a whole new world to you. 721-724 There was a terrible invasion of monsters from the wilderness nearby.

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725-728 Something or someone very cute slaughtered someone you cared about. 729-732 You became the bearer of a heavy secret. 733-736 Someone you cared about fell ill, or under the influence of malicious magic. 737-740 Someone cheated in your favor. 741-744 A person (or people) you’d never heard of before chose you for special training. 745-748 You gambled with some very high stakes. 749-752 You were extremely, extremely lucky. 753-756 You lost a part of yourself. 757-760 The deeds (or misdeeds) of a parent came to hang like a shadow over your life. 761-764 Some children were placed in your care. 765-768 You found out how liberating a great disguise can be. 769-772 You were trapped underground. 773-776 You really overdid something. 777-780 You and a friend fell out over something that seems stupid and trivial, now. 781-784 You caught an unusual fish or bit of small game in a trap. 785-788 It was interesting, at least, to learn a brand new way of causing such a large explosion. 789-792 You encountered some remnant or shade of a god ... or at least, you have reason to believe you did. 793-796 You were betrothed. 797-800 Someone deliberately concealed something in your body, mind, or soul, and at first, you didn’t know about it. 801-804 You encountered a worthy adversary. 805-808 Your life was turned upside-down when you met some very strange friends from far away. 809-812 Someone damaged or neglected came into your life, needing someone who cares. 813-816 Your enemy or rival needed your help. 817-820 You were treated differently because of your station/social class/wealth. 821-824 You committed a crime. 825-828 You met someone more astonishing, magical and enchanting than you ever imagined existed. 829-832 You visited a country you never thought you’d see. 833-836 You discovered something private and unexpected about a friend/family member/lover/enemy/your heritage/a place you treasure. 837-840 Turns out you’re the direct descendant of something very dark. 841-844 You had several bad things happen in a row, all of which seemed the fault of members of a specific other race. 845-848 You lost something interesting. 849-852 You faced some grueling exams. 853-856 To survive, you had to submit, for a time. 857-860 Someone gave you far too much credit, and you let them down.


861-864 You became entangled in a love triangle (or hexagon, parallelogram, oval, pentacle, etc). 865-868 Those you trusted abandoned you. 869-872 You saw something worth imitating. 873-876 You were praised and celebrated and it went to your head for a while. 877-880 You misunderstood the meaning of an important choice. 881-884 You suffered from dangers hidden within something that’s supposed to be fun (injured in a freak Calypso accident, etc). 885-888 You traveled beyond the world. 889-892 Your friends banded together in order to do something you disagreed with/couldn’t go along with. 893-896 There was an infestation. 897-900 You had a change of religion or philosophy. 901-904 You were groomed for superstardom or some other kind of greatness. 905-908 You experienced a new pleasure that captivates your attention even today. 909-912 To escape notice, you had to dress like you were one of them. 913-916 They delivered a uniform that was clearly meant for someone else. 917-920 You were humbled. 921-924 You took a new identity. 925-928 You decided to disobey. 929-932 You showed up just a moment too late. 933-936 You were just doing your best; you didn’t mean for anyone to die. 937-940 You were enslaved. 941-944 A loved one was killed by a respected authority figure. 945-948 Joy or ecstasy drove you to make changes in your life. 949-952 You entered a magical gateway. 953-956 A vision appeared to you. 957-960 You weren’t careful, and you should have known better. 961-964 You encountered something much naughtier than you’d previously been exposed to. 965-968 You made something that took on a life of its own, and then you watched it die. 969-972 You had to prove yourself by indulging extra-heavily in the local drug (often some kind of booze, but not always). 973-976 You were treated differently because of your beliefs or traditions. 977-980 You broke a curse or spell. 981-984 You saw something extraordinary in the sky. 985-988 You profited from something you’d meant to do for free. 989-992 You lost your temper. 993-996 You encountered incredible beauty. 997-000 You had a time in which you were free and able to do anything you wanted, and you did.

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Mastery

may never move diagonally (see below for explanation of the squares marked with a Z).

These are the formal laws for Mastery, a game of strategy enjoyed throughout heaven’s grave (see also page 42).

Pawns may move only one square, but it can be to any unoccupied adjacent square, including diagonally adjacent ones. Pawns are the only piece capable of diagonal movement. See the diagram: the Pawn may move to any X shown, provided the square is unoccupied. The double-X squares represent the greater movement treacherous pawns may achieve (see below).

Board and Setup The Mastery playing field is an 8×8 square grid. Each side consists of thirteen pieces: three Masters, four Officers, and six Pawns. Each side’s pieces should be easily distinguishable by color, with one clearly darker than the other (the two sides are, traditionally, “Light” and “Dark”). There are two different traditional setups (see Figures 1 & 2). The first is the “Lock” or “Imperial” board, with both sides closely tangled and ready to fight. The second is the “Draume Crown” board, providing a less immediate conflict (and, some feel, a subtler opening game).

Object

The Masters (Shown Light & Dark): The Longest Reach, But With A Blind Spot, and Sometimes an Unseemly Apetite ...

Capture The Officers: Mighty Fists, Solid Watchmen. They Keep Pawns in Line

The “Humble” Pawns: Capable of Treachery, Sometimes The Most Powerful Piece

There are two ways to win. The first is to capture all three of your opponent’s Masters. The second is to capture all of your opponent’s other pieces (every Officer and Pawn). Either side may also resign the game to his opponent.

The Turn Each player acts in turn until one achieves victory. Dark always makes the first move. On his turn, a player must do one of three things: Move, Capture, or Control.

Movement

Figure 1: The “Lock” or Imperial Board is the Most Common Form

All pieces must move in straight, unobstructed lines to their destination; no pieces in Mastery “jump” in any way. Masters may move in any single orthogonal direction (up, down, left, right), any distance to a maximum of three squares. See Figure 3: the Master may move to any X shown, provided that the path is unobstructed. Masters may never move diagonally. Officers may move in any single orthogonal direction as well, moving a total of one or two squares. See Figure 4: the Officer may move to any X shown, provided the path is unobstructed. Officers

A Capture is identical to a Move, except that the destination square contains an enemy piece, which is removed from the board (“captured”). The path toward the enemy piece must still be unobstructed. Rank plays no part in capture. Any piece of one color can capture any piece of the other. Pieces of one’s own color are “ally” pieces. Pieces of the opponent’s color are “enemy” pieces. Devouring: Masters, only, may capture allied Officers and Pawns (pieces of their own color) if desired. This is called devouring. Resurrection: Whenever an enemy Officer or Master is captured, the capturing player may immediately return one of his own captured pieces to play. The “resurrected” piece may be placed in any unoccupied space on the board. The resurrected piece must be of a lower rank than the piece captured. Thus, capturing Master allows the resurrection of an Officer or Pawn – player’s choice – and capturing an Officer allows the resurrection of a Pawn only. If no eligible captured pieces are available, the opportunity to resurrect is lost. Masters, once captured, may never be resurrected by any means. No resurrection occurs when a Master devours an ally piece.

Control

Figure 2: The “Draume Crown” Board of Dwarfkind, Provides a Gentler Opening Game


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When making a Move or Capture, players must move one of their own (ally) pieces. When making a Control play, however, players must move one of the enemy pieces. A piece moved by the enemy player is treacherous. For the duration of the Control move, the treacherous piece becomes ally instead of enemy, and follows the normal





rules for movement and capture. The Control play will be either a Move or Capture, using the enemy piece as if it were your own. Controllable Pieces: Only those enemy pieces sitting in the Zone of Control of one of your ally pieces may be controlled. Furthermore, pieces only exert control over pieces of lower rank: Masters may exert control over Officers and Pawns; Officers may exert control over Pawns only, and Pawns exert no control at all. Officer’s Zone of Control: The Zone of Control for an Officer extends to all adjacent squares, both orthogonally and diagonally (See Figure 4, the “Z” squares). Any enemy Pawn in the Officer’s zone may be controlled. Master’s Zone of Control: A diamond shaped pattern surrounding the Master. See Figure 5. Any enemy Pawn or Officer in the Master’s zone may be controlled. Note that the four orthogonally adjacent squares are not part of the Master’s zone. An enemy piece may sit in these “blind spots” without any risk of being controlled. Treacherous Pawns: Officers under enemy control gain no special powers. Pawns, on the other hand, are more powerful in the hands of an enemy. A treacherous pawn may move up to three squares in any single direction, instead of just one, to either move or capture. See Figure 6.

ling the Dark pawn, the Dark player could not immediately “reflect it back” to its origin square.

The Lost Power Rule If either side (Light or Dark) loses all six Pawns or all four Officers, that side loses the power to make Control moves. This remains in effect for as long as that side lacks Officers or lacks Pawns. Figure 3: The Movement of the Master

Figure 4: Officers, Their Movement and Zone of Control

The Reflection Rule The Reflection Rule is: No piece may be moved to the square it occupied on the immediately previous turn. This means that if the Darker-Color player moves a pawn on Turn 1, placing it into the Zone of Control of an enemy Officer, the Lighter-Color player may not, on Turn 2, make a Control move to return the blue pawn to the same square it came from. The pawn is not immune to Control; it can still be moved to another square if available – it just can’t be moved to the exact square it left on Turn 1. This restriction vanishes on Turn 3, since Turn 1 is no longer “immediately previous.” The rule works in both directions, regardless of which player moves the piece first (by normal Move or by Control). Had Light begun by control-

Figure 5: The Master’s Zone of Control

Figure 6: Pawn Movement (and Pawn Treachery!)


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Regional Variants Mastery has a place in gaming-parlors, drawing-rooms and taverns across heaven’s grave, so variants to the formal laws are common, reflecting not only gaming tastes, but whatever it is the player decides that Mastery really means … some see it as a metaphor for literal warfare or politics, others (most famously Sindran sorcerers) see it as a work of occult mathematics, representing forces much simpler than “us” versus “them.” The most common variant is the addition of conditions for a tied game (there’s no concept of a “draw” in the formal laws). The most popular in Temphis is called Tavern Rules, where either player can, at any time during his own turn, demand the “end game.” What this means is that a small bowl containing 5 coins is placed on the table next to the board. From that moment on, at the end of any turn which didn’t include a Capture (of anyone, by anyone, including devours), a coin is drawn from the bowl. When a capture is made, all the coins are returned to the bowl. If the bowl is ever emptied, the game ends in a draw. Calling for the “end game” when the game is still young can change the game’s tone considerably. Players without a bowl turn the five coins face-up, and flip them face-down in lieu of “removing” them. The “Yemite Game” is popular everywhere except among the sorcererdukes of Yem, who can be humorless about their image. In the Yemite Game, Masters may devour one another, and devouring does trigger resurrection. This means a player can – in “Yemite” fashion – destroy his own Officer for the privilege of resurrecting a pawn anywhere on the board, or even destroy a Master to bring back an Officer. The Yemite Game, with Tavern Rules, is traditional among mariners.





Units of Measurement

T

here’s no need to examine Uresia’s bewildering array of measurement standards, partly because it gives clever wizards headaches, but mostly because it overlaps our own bewildering array at several convenient points. Uresia has – among others – inches, feet, pounds, tons, pints, gallons, weeks and years roughly comparable to our own. “Roughly comparable” is as good as it gets. Unit values vary by kingdom, county or even by village, and there are plenty of less familiar units to contend with … bellweights, headweights, Troll hands, long strides and more. The bellweights depend on the bell, the headweights don’t depend on the head, and Troll hands legally depend on trees, not Trolls. Thanks to a robust sea trade, the port cities recognize standards, of a sort, for those who really need them. Most people don’t. To an ordinary pig-farmer, minstrel, or wandering wizard, a town is “three days away,” not “31.7 Rinden Statute Leagues.” Likewise, a bucket of water is a bucket of water because it’s water in a bucket; few sane men care if it’s precisely “1.0 Water-Buckets” as some arcane mercantile standard defines one. If you find yourself struggling with sanity, or if you’re playing a merchant and enjoy the idea of confusing others with the product of centuries of faulty assumptions, dodgy arithmetic, political compromise and arbitrary decree, absorb the following and extrapolate (and regurgitate) at need. If not: flee. Weight: Merchants establish weight based on the bells mounted on trader caravels. These bells, cast from tinbrass to well-established standards, provide an impressively consistent measure, but other “bellweights” used in specific trades are based on different bells, muddying the term. Boru, which trades in valuable spices, resins, and alchemical compounds, maintains precise legal standards for cargo weight, defining the relationship between units with something approaching clarity. Boru law provides, too, for alternate methods of estimating large masses: “Stand at the gangplank of a caravel past the setting of the sun and bid 12 men to stop, tall ones and small ones, as they happen to pass to or from the ships in the course of their merriment. Stand these men together, and their weight shall be a right and lawful ton to measure goods by.” The ton is, formally, 144 bellweights. Merchants also use long tons (168 bells), mainly to be troublesome. A head or headweight is half a bellweight, so “five head of beef” is very different from “five head of cattle” and if you want a head of lettuce you’ll just have to be more specific. There are 7 pounds to the head. For very fine measurements, alchemists use grains, which are so small as to be nearly theoretical: 100,000 to an alchemist’s bellweight, which in turn bears an inexact but near resemblance to a mercantile bellweight. Dreed (and, consequently, everyone else) employs alchemical standards for the emerald trade (one carat is exactly three alchemical grains).


Distance: Uresians measure roads, kingdoms and waterways in leagues when they measure them at all. Everyone agrees that a league is “about an hour’s hike” but few agree on how far that actually is. In the Rindenland, they fix the standard as the distance between two historic oaks in the Sweetbriar Wood. All shorter units are legally reckoned as portions of the league. The Rinden foot divides neatly into three hands of four inches each (eight inches is a Troll hand). Three feet make a stride, three strides a long stride, 18 long strides a quarter, 4 quarters a furlong, and 24 furlongs a league. Ruin-cartographers use 30-inch paces when mapping dungeons and caves (a term similar enough to “stride” to cause real problems when maps are translated to other languages), and mariners and dungeon-delvers alike use fathoms (two strides, vertical) to measure depth, wet or dry. The knot is an occasional measure of speed, equal to approximately 2,000 strides per hour. Volume: The Temphis gallon sets the standard. There are a thousand drams (and eight pints) to the gallon, which is simple enough. There are, however, from 29 to 44 gallons to the barrel depending on whether you’re measuring beer, rum, wine, seed oil, fish oil, Slimes traveling coach, youth unguent, berries, groats, standardized healing potion, floral perfume, non-floral perfume, soy sauce, pear juice, or “Satyr’s balm” (water-based skin lubricant, produced exclusively in Boru and shipped at considerable per-barrel expense to Lochria, Helt and the Elu Islands). There are 10 buckets, 5 kegs or 2 rundles to the barrel, and 8 barrels to the tun (a double-scale cargo barrel, popular décor in taprooms). Since the barrel varies, the buckets, kegs and so on vary right along with it. A tun of water is 294 gallons, which weighs exactly one long ton. This is, sadly, a coincidence. Temperature: Scholars in most kingdoms have devised simple thermometers, but little has been done with them and there are no formal scales of temperature degrees. Scientifically-minded Boru, when they aren’t dancing with hookers and getting stoned, are vaguely certain that there are constant heat values such as Human body temperature and the boiling point of water (the hookers helped establish the former in a series of experiments spanning nineteen years). Many of these notions have been dismissed in Laöch, where the King’s own chief scholars, re-creating Boru instruments and tests in the high mountain enclaves of the master engineers, observed that Boru’s reported “boiling point” of water is noticeably erroneous. Comparative studies of Laöchrian hookers were more favorable in every respect, but the papers describing the studies are, for the most part, exciting only to other Dwarves. Time: Uresia uses seconds, minutes, hours, days and weeks as we do. In Uresia, a “month” is usually a full lunar cycle of 29-30 days, but can also refer to one of the “stages” of each calendar hundred. A “hundred” is onefourth of a calendar year, corresponding to the seasons and marked by equinox and solstice. Crude mechanical clocks exist (along with wristwatches waterproof to 14 fathoms), but hourglasses, candle-marks, sundials and other simple methods of reckoning time are much more common. The matter of the calendar gets its own treatment in greater detail (see page 16).

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Uresia: Family Tree Vithari, the old grey Creesh, waved his torch around like he was drawing a picture. “See there? You see it now?” I didn’t see it. All I could see was old, wet stonework, drizzling from the cracks. I didn’t know how deep underground we were, but it felt like a mountain was pressing down. I hate the underground. I’m in the wrong line of work. Vithari scowled and his left fang poked out. He’s never been aware of how funny that looks. “There,” he said. “Right there; that’s a window …” He was pointing to something a fathom or more above us, in the dark. There it was – I saw it. We were standing next to the outer wall of … a castle? A city? An upside-down, half-crushed, fortified wall. Squinting and turning my head, I could make out a yawning gate high above our heads, leaning to the edge of our torchlight. Vithari spread his arms and beamed. “Behold! A citadel of the gods! This sad ruin lies before us! Ripe! Un-plundered!” “And upside-down.” “That happens.” “Hm.” We stared at it for a while, wishing we hadn’t used the last of the rope crossing that chasm an hour ago. Wishing that I hadn’t chosen this morning – and this catacomb – to break up with my girlfriend. She’d been our mage, before she fluttered off in a huff. “Hm,” Vithari agreed. “Nice masonry, though.” “Well, you know,” Vithari said … “a remnant of heaven! The handiwork of GODS, my friend!” “So they say, Vithari. So they say.” Vithari felt an itch, and paused to address it with his tongue. I focused my attention elsewhere until the scratching noise subsided. I’m in the wrong line of work. � A Discarded Vignette

T

o give proper credit to every book, game, film, and comic to inspire something in Grave of Heaven would be to tell you my entire life story. Frankly, I love hearing myself rattle on, so I wouldn’t mind, but Uresia is a tight book so it should have a tight set of notes as we (for now) close the curtain, or at least step aside so you can get on to the Index. Did you know that every Uresian kingdom echoes a specific point of Japanese history? True, though (mostly) invisible to the reader. Every one also echoes a person I’ve gamed and worked with (which makes international relations a roleplaying mini-game of How would this person treat that person if they were arguing over a resource?). They also each echo some particular fantasyculture cliché, of course, and gaming sessions or campaigns I particularly enjoyed. In the early design stages, I made lists of these things, and lists of lists, and that’s part of how I built the thing. That’s more-or-less how I do everything … and Uresia is, top-to-bottom, a distillation of everything I think or feel about fantasy gaming, from my table-habits to my design approaches. But that’s all blah-de-blah and abstract. I’m sure I’ll write about it again somewhere else. For now, I want to pay proper thanks to just nine of Uresia’s inspirations; notable elders on the family tree. For each one, please consider this a hearty recommendation: if these things aren’t already on your bookshelf, your hard drive, wherever … consider going out to meet them, and letting them work their mojo, because they have got some.

My Brudder Otis Gave It To Me I owe a number of debts to the 1983 World of Greyhawk boxed set in terms of learning “how much information is enough,” and design scope in general, and that box inspired in me a love of many things that I keep right on loving. Even more crucial are some of the Greyhawk modules, especially T1: The Village of Hommlet, because I felt I learned more about Greyhawk from Hommlet than I did from reading about its kingdoms … and that’s why Rogan’s Heath is in this book. I wanted to provide that same “ground level” rural perspective on Uresia. Another thing you can trace back to Greyhawk? Seriously, nobody ever guesses this, but it’s sporting chefs. That one goes to The Temple of Elemental Evil, a collection of four modules (only one of which actually existed to be collected) written by Gygax and Mentzer, and there’s this dude … he’s trapped in the dungeon at the titular temple (wandering the “elemental nodes” if I recall correctly), and he’s a weaver, not a fighter (or thief, magic-user or cleric) … so he uses his weaver skills to make armor (padded, of course), weapons (cloth firebombs), the whole bit, surviving deep in the dungeon on his schtick. That little detail rocked my universe in my early gaming days, and if you know my game Risus you can see where that gives us Inappropriate Clichés, and if you know Uresia you can see where that leads to sporting chefs and magic maids and fighting scriveners and guardian janitors and whatever. And yes, it also comes from other


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About the Illustrators Banu Adhimuka (pages 15 and 22) lives in Jakarta, Indonesia; you can find his galleries online at several of the best art sites. Chun (pages 10 and 74) returns to heaven’s grave after providing the charming illustrations in Caravel. Learn more about her at www.puppy52.com. Jason Embury (page 63) has been doing print, illustration and design work for many a year; he’s on the Web at www. jasonembury.net. Fufu Frauenwahl (pages 35, 56 and 62) is a German illustrator who brings some beautiful dark textures to the grave. He’s online at www.fufufrauenwahl.com. Niko Geyer (page 81) did work on the first edition of Uresia. His work also graces the anime RPG OVA, and he blogs at nikogeyer.blogspot.com. Denis Loubet (page 70) is a veteran fantasy artist and all-around living legend. He’s online at www.denisloubet.com. Jon McNally (pages 13, 30, 33 and 40) is probably best known among Cumberland gamers as the illustrator of the Adventures of Darcy Dare set of Sparks paper miniatures; he’s online at www.jonmcnally. net. Jordan Peacock (pages 19, 45 and 54) is the artist behind four Sparks sets from Cumberland, and much more (including work on Sanguine’s Ironclaw RPG). Visit him online at greywolf.critter. net. Noreen Rana (pages 24 and 77) is an artist and retro-gaming enthusiast living in Halifax, Nova Scotia. You can see more of her work at www.neomonki.net. Thinh (pages 21 and 58) is an artist and gamer whose clever illustrations for Ewen Cluney’s Mascot-Tan made him essential for Uresia. Zelda Wang (pages 28 and 85) is an illustrator, graphicnovel creator and and graphic designer, online at zeldacw.idv.st. And finally, S. John Ross can’t draw for beans (unless the beans want a map) but he’s to blame for the rest of it. Speaking of whom ...

About the Author S. John Ross has been a game writer professionally since 1990, less-professionally since the mid 1980s, and an entirely amateur anime fan since his first crush on Benten (Urusei Yatsura) in 1992. Uresia: Grave of Heaven includes the most overt examples of anime influences on his RPG work, but if you squint you can spot the anime peeking through everything he’s ever made, including his work for The Avalon Hill Game Company, Flying Buffalo, Hero Games, Last Unicorn Games, Steve Jackson Games, TSR, White Wolf, Wizards of the Coast and (of course) Guardians of Order. In early 2012, he was hired as one of a group of RPG folk acting as consultants on the Next Edition of Dungeons & Dragons, because apparently “RPG Consultant” is a thing that exists, now. He and his wife Sandra live, game, cook, and snuggle with their friends in Denver, Colorado.


places (like that Flash Gordon movie where Flash rocks a fight by using football moves instead of fighting moves, and any number of comedies, really), but seriously: Greyhawk lit that fire under my butt. True tale.

C5. Communication Magic One of the best things to happen to fantasy gaming since Dave Arneson decided adventure could have a roof over its head, the Citybook series (and its Catalyst cousins, like Grimtooth’s Traps) ring through the halls of Uresia in several ways, the most obvious of which is fundamental: the Citybooks are where the entire hobby learned that RPG writers, with the crutch of stat-blocks removed from their toolkit, create much better RPG material. Like Uresia (rather, the other way around), the Citybooks are 100% pure, gameable adventure-and-character material, a concentrated dose of humor, horror, challenge and mystery. Plus a truckload of maps, each describing some small corner of a vast nameless City. Apart from that foundation, influences on this book range from the use of decimal coinage to Uresia’s nod to Liz Danforth’s take on Gargoyles in Citybook V. I’m proud to have been a Citybook contributor myself (in Citybook VII: King’s River Bridge), and as far as I’m concerned everything in those books is somewhere in heaven’s grave.

Grues, Flatheads & Cruel Puppets I came to fantasy through gaming, so fantasy is, to me, a gaming genre. I never read The Lord of the Rings as a kid, never set foot in Lankhmar until TSR did a sourcebook, etc. This skews my foundations in ways I can’t even begin to list, and here’s one of the skewiest: the Zork computer games (especially Beyond Zork and Zork III) stand head and shoulders above Middle-Earth or Hyboria in terms of how I learned what a fantasy world even is. If you’re Zork-savvy, you’re probably nodding your head at this point, realizing that King Timberfell isn’t just (for example) Ataru Moroboshi, he’s Ataru Moroboshi as a Flathead Emperor, specifically and deliberately. Zork taught me that mockery underpinned by sympathy for the folly of the species is a hell of a fine way to paint the broad strokes, and when fantasy worlds take their kings and lineages more seriously than Zork does, to this day it just makes me blink in sad confusion at the missed opportunity. Uresia’s casual love of anachronism, too, while certainly an anime detail reflecting its roots as a BESM book, is something I learned first from Zork. Plus … my maps are nice; I like ‘em … but they’re shamed by the scratchboard work of Bruce Hutchison (Beyond Zork), which is the map that got me attempting woodcut styles in the first place. For bonus reading, check out the Zork tie-in novel by George Alec Effinger, one of my favorite writers, because that’s in here, too.

But What Does Kundi See? I’m a general-purpose Magnamund fan (my favorite gamebook is probably Dever’s Caverns of Kalte), but in terms of Uresia, and in terms of experiences that really

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shaped the way I game and write, it’s not Joe Dever’s work that stands out, but rather the spinoff material by Ian Page, specifically the first volume of World of Lone Wolf: Grey Star The Wizard. You can play it for free, legally, thanks to the Aon project (your favorite search engine knows the way). Play it and see things ranging from (right at the beginning) benign wind-sprites helping a sailing vessel along (Uresia’s enchanted sails pull exactly the same trick; not coincidence) and even a mild obsession with the word “quayside,” which I still use at every opportunity (though for years I mispronounced it). And the typeface these words are set in? A lot of people think it’s a D&D reference. Nope (or technically, yep, but once removed). I even think of Mother Magri when I roleplay the Ga-Shu (except the Ga-Shu isn’t one of the bad guys. Probably. Maybe. Sometimes). More subtly, if you ever read an adventure of mine where the most crucial choices are about trust, that’s something else instilled in me by Grey Star The Wizard. There are a sprinkling of other British-fantasy-gamebook references around the grave, too, if you know where to look (especially a certain Golden Dragon one) …

Uresia: OST Heaven’s grave doesn’t have a soundtrack album, of course, but if it could have one, it might be a lot like this: Track 01: Skyfall (The Gone Jackals, Legacy) Track 02: First Evenings in The Troll Lands (Pink Floyd, Signs of Life) Track 03: Maybe This Is For The Best (Steely Dan, Any Major Dude) Track 04: Dusting Off My Boots, Hefting My Axe (The Kingston Trio, Fast Freight) Track 05: In Yem We Buried The Mage (Great Big Sea, General Taylor) Track 06: It’s Different Beneath the Sea (The Monkees, The Porpoise Song) Track 07: Dance of the Winnowite Sages (Sergio Mendes & Brasil ‘66, Mais Que Nada)

Scorching the Dumbarton Slalom

Track 08: Better Wash This Shirt Before Anyone Notices (Steppenwolf, Magic Carpet Ride)

I owe much to Autoduel America or, more specifically, the AADA Road Atlas and Survival Guide series of worldbooks, which as a set comprise my very favorite world ever created for gaming in (there have been other treatments of Autoduel America, but the Road Atlas series is where it’s at, by a wide margin).

Track 09: I’m Not Worthy of Your Time, Much Less Your Healing Magic (Paul Simon, Diamonds on the Soles of Her Shoes)

For those who don’t remember Car Wars (or for those who never paid much attention to the setting, or thought it didn’t have one), the world is unique in that it was started (in the form of a quick little timeline) by the game’s co-creator, Steve Jackson, but it was built in stone-soup fashion by the game’s own fans, in a series of articles and supplements where gamers wrote the world piece by piece, often in the form of in-jokes relating to their own hometowns. This lends the world an unparalleled variety of perspectives, authentic regional flavor, and a deeply twisting, shouting, laughing spine of bloody-minded satire. It’s that last bit reflected deep in the heart of Uresia, which aspires to be just as shameless, just as pointed, just as varied and just as celebratory.

Track 10: Talk to the Guy in the Corner (Elvis Costello, This Town) Track 11: Boru Pays Off (The Clash, Rock the Casbah) Track 12: Oh Cripes, The Cleric is a Satyr Again (Marvin Gaye, Sexual Healing) Track 13: Hitting Ninth Level Half-Drunk With the Top Down (Chuck Berry, Almost Grown) Track 14: This Oracle Isn’t Taking Me Seriously (Simply Red, If You Don’t Know Me By Now) Track 15: Trials & Treasure Maps (Pink Floyd, Hey You)

Slow of Mind

Track 16: Skyfall Ruins (MC Frontalot, It is Pitch Dark)

I mentioned before that I never read LotR as a kid, and the thing is, once I was a gamer, I still never finished the darn thing. But I did find works of fantasy which took its traditional place in my heart as a kind of True Source from which all other fantasy descends. On par with Zork, the realms wandered by Groo the Wanderer (Sergio Aragonés and Mark Evanier), and the people (and dog) who shared the road with him, provide the fundamental archetypes I draw from. If you’re sharp, you can find Groo references throughout this book (a lot more than smoked swill and goat-horn stew) perhaps even in hidden ways … but truly, Groo’s world (never mapped at all, that I know of) is the world of fantasy, to me.

Track 17: The Nastier the Sandwich, The Groovier the Magic Item (Lita Ford w/Ozzy Osbourne, Close My Eyes Forever)


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Track 18: High Dreamer Writes a LoveLetter (Talking Heads, Road to Nowhere) Track 19: Uresia, Grave of Heaven (Roger Waters, 5:06 AM – Every Stranger’s Eyes) Track 20: Campaign Prep (The Eagles, Take It Easy – Live Version) Bonus Track on European Release: Reflections on the Grave (Billy Joel, Vienna)





Ecology of The Mountain Dew

Cake at the Dead-Dog

An online fan (Casey777) once described Uresia as “Forgotten Realms First Edition with magical girls, undead snowmen, Slimes, and bishi boys.”

Wait, what? That’s all, just nine? Where’s Warhammer FRP (First Ed, natch)? Where’s the GAZ series and The Frugal Gourmet? Where’s Babylon 5 and Doctor Who and Star Trek and Gummi Bears and Jackie Chan movies and Glorantha and that comic book with the aardvark before the writer-dude got all creepy? Where’s Hammett and Hughart and Adams? Where’s the Russian folklore? Where’s Bloom County and Peanuts and Calvin & Hobbes? Where’s the anime?

I gotta say, I’m really grateful he specified First Edition. Over the years, TSR’s post-Greyhawk flagship setting became a cautionary tale in how a world can be juiced to the rind, but that original Grey Box had a lot going for it, including a twitchy zoom lens and a willingness to be inexplicable (over the years, each inexplicable thing would be explicked half to death). Just as Hommlet let me learn Greyhawk in the best way, FR1: Waterdeep and the North became my favorite way to learn the Realms, and that’s (you saw this coming a mile away, I’ll bet) one of the reasons Shadow River got its own chapter, to zoom urban in the same way Rogan’s Heath zooms rural. My only real refutation to Casey777’s summary would be this: Uresia has no overbearing Mary Sue sorcerer-sage to speak of, and the one guy on the grave who might qualify for the job (Mul Graff, Archmage of the Rin Academy, Chief of the Council and so on) isn’t interested.

Bite Jesus in the Arm Cartoonist Larry Gonick puts duller historians to shame, not just by boiling the history of mankind down into jolly cartoon form, but by sharing his understanding that history is made by very human behavior, and only incidentally by the movements of armies and fortunes.

Over the years I’ve had the privilege of working and gaming with some of my heroes, and then there’s a subset where some of my heroes have become my friends. One such was Ed Simbalist, jr., who maybe you know from his work on Chivalry & Sorcery and maybe from Space Opera and maybe not at all, but he was one of the great pioneering RPG designers and his work affected me profoundly as a kid. He’s no longer with us, sadly, but toward the end, he and I would sometimes spend hours on the phone: planning collaborations, talking about history, talking about Marshall McLuhan, talking about food (especially borscht, and especially the importance of homemade sour cream) talking about media, talking about gaming.

Gonick doesn’t just make history funny, he doesn’t just make it easy, he makes it truthful in a way few others can touch. The lessons of his work dovetail nicely with the lessons of Zork, without the parser confusion but also with fewer Grues. Gonick’s cartoon guides to other subjects (from science to sex) are comparably brilliant, and it would be hard to overstate Gonick’s influence me on a person, let alone as a writer.

Blind Drunk in a Corner I doubt I’ve literally played more Talisman (Second Edition) than any other gamer on earth ... but I’d be willing to have my gaming-time audited if the Guinness Book people came knocking. Certainly, I’ve logged hours in the four-digit range (insert your own joke about how just one game can take that long), and between the chaos generated by the interplay of the characters and the rustic-cartoon-warmth of the Gary Chalk artwork (he’s also the original Lone Wolf illustrator, I hasten to note), Talisman Second Edition becomes another one of those core visions of fantasy for me, standing in place of those fantasy novels I can never slog through. Literally, one phase in the design process for Uresia was making sure I could envision a home for every single character and Adventure card. I didn’t (and don’t) feel the need to be explicit about it all, but I consider it a real litmus test for a fantasy world: if anything from Talisman Second Edition doesn’t fit, it’s just not kitchen-sink enough.


Yes-yes-yes to all of that (of course), but I’ve droned on enough for this particular bout of authorial indulgence. Odds are, if you imagine you see it, it’s really there (and if it’s not, it probably should be). As someone fond of RPG history, I do think RPG material should nod to its family tree whenever practical, because otherwise we miss out on the party going on behind the party, and that’s a waste of good nonsense.

There’s a story he told me on more than one occasion. It was the 1970s, when the inchoate matter of the gaming universe was still cooling into lumps. A friend of his, a TSR insider, sidled over to him at Gen Con and whispered, in a conspiratorial, say-not-a-word-or-Garywould-kill-me way, that E. Gary Gygax kept a copy of Chivalry & Sorcery in his desk drawer at all times, and would refer to it during the development of Advanced Dungeons & Dragons. Neither Ed nor Gygax are around anymore, so it’s unlikely we’ll ever know the whole truth of it, but for my own part I believe it, absolutely. I also believe these things shouldn’t be left to rumor. And of course I’m not inserting Uresia into the company, historically speaking, of AD&D or C&S, but I think the principle holds true even for cute little niche-y worlds like this one, so I’ll be clear: I keep a copy of Chivalry & Sorcery on hand at all times, and so should you. Until next we meet on heaven’s grave (and here’s hoping it won’t be long), I bid you peace, love, food, and good gaming.

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The Index A Achla Doru (River), 47; Shadow Club named for, 50 Adlet, 18; evil sorcerer and the Lochrian sunstone, 65 Adolescence; in nonhuman races, 71 Adventurer’s Guide to Common Runes, 7 Adventuring Groups See Delving Troupes Afterlife; Shael beliefs, 37 Age and Aging; limits on magic related to, 37; symbolism of the Daughters, 11; See also listings for nonhuman races Akashic Planes, 66 Alchemists’ Row, 52 Alchemy, 84; Alchemists’ Row in Shadow River, 52; Boru favored for, 11; Celari forms considered dangerous, 13; Dosrabid’s Unconventional, 52; for recovery from cosmetic surgery, 56; infused into incense, 81; Jovanos Imps made with, 53; one of the few socially-acceptable magical practices, 80; potions to ward against the gloom, 63; prices of alchemical goods, 90; Sindran astrology used in, 66; Talarian Alchemy, 21; used to fuel steam locomotives, 23 Ale See Booze Anandriel, 32; contrasted with Birah, 72; know the Wine God as the goddess Nysha, 6; naming conventions, 95; sunstone in, 64 Anandriel (Princess), 32 Angel’s Ford, 26; apothecaries during the Koval Wars, 84 Angela Tycho, 24 Anvil (City), 22 Apocalypse Brides, 85 Apothecary, 84; See also Alchemy Aracor, 19; Gundel Horad, 19 Arbiters, The, 6; apparent absence from Birah, 9; Aribiter priesthoods make enemies easily, 77; Sisters of Fair Judgment, 77 Archer’s Rest, 32 Archery; equipment prices, 90; Winnow known for, 34; See also Yellow Maple Bow Ardor’s Rope, 56 Argot I, 26 Armor; prices, 90; protection against Snowman attacks, 74; See also Emerald Armor Assassins; Fedell, Lord of, 60; Jovanos Imps as, 53 Astalasian Brandy, 87 Astral Planes, 66 Astrology See Zodiac Augosi (Currency), 34 Augury See Divination Aurela, 41

Avenue of Wheels, 48 Avians See Aracor Avonir, 28; Lochrian sunstone in, 65 Axe and Flagon, 45

B Baerg, 44 Ballicazar, 28; deity and oath, 11; site of Nonathor’s studies, 29 Balloons (Vehicles) See Hot-Air Travel Baltaan, 11 Bands of Delvers See Delving Troupes Barbarians, 21; of East Orgalt, 25, 78 Bards See Minstrels, Storytelling Barley John Crode, 67 Batton’s Hold, 64 Beacon District, 48 Beacon Hill, 48 Bear Flute Chorus, 18 Bears (Hramath), 18 Beastmen See Helt, Hramath, individual race listings Beasts, 89 Beasts, Wise, 71; Samaref, 44 Becker’s Forge, 22 Beer See Booze Bells; as a measurement standard, 104 Bells, The (Neighborhood), 47 Ben Barber, 43 Beshek, 33 Besinov (Clan), 25 Birah, 8; former part of the Koval Empire, 20; naming conventions, 95; native girls sent elsewhere for safety, 54; See also Duandralin, Wild Pact Bird-People See Aracor Bistlethorn, 84 Bjorgald Drumhammer, 31 Black Rum (Game), 42 Blind Deacon, 30 Blind Owl City, 22; “re-virgining” potions, 11; home of the Fire Cluster, 81 Blizzard Lake, 32 Blood on the Vine (Book), 93 Boggs’ Balloon Rides, 51 Bogho, 36 Bongdurum Clan of Becker’s Forge, 22 Books; as victims to be “rescued” in the Thuriad, 28; banned, 93; prices related to, 91; questing scholar superpowers relating too, 85; See also individual books by title Booze, 87; and wintering Rinden merchants, 40; barrel sizes, 104; beer stronger and darker in Celar, 12; Birah cities redolent of, 8; Centaur capacity for ale, 71; Clan Gruenta-


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lyn known for black ale, 25; cocktail parties avoided via Sir Hadel, 55; Elvish wines, 32; Hoggart and Yoma rum habit, 45; King Argot’s love of warm ale, 26; Mourfa wine (hallucinogenic), 73; New Town built from wine-merchant traffic, 47, 55; spiced rum, 53; wine component of High Dreamer prophecy, 66; Winnow famed for dusky wine, 34; See also Entries for drinking establishments, related guilds, and The Wine God Boradras/Boradrans; prohibitions on sexual pleasure, 32 Bori (Clan), 25 Borindor, 23 Boru, 10; Boru rum, 87; Boru Sorcery, 80; legal standards for cargo weight, 104; studies of temperature contrasted with Laöch, 104; sunstone in, 64; Talarian hostels in, 21 Boru Handsign, 36 Borumaga, 10 Bounty Hunters, 31; leads in Sisters of Fair Judgment murders, 77; typical bounties, 92 Bows See Archery, Yellow Maple Bow Brach Vorn, 12 Bread; as exotic weaponry, 85; in Rogan’s heath, 41; price, 87 Bread, Wine & Wizardry (Book); cited, 28; publication of, 69 Brossendam, 26 Brothels See Prostitution Brothers of the God Rondo, 50 Brovor XXII, 24, 47 Brown Button, 64 Brunley and Rika, 43 Burle, 43 Butter-Sprites, 84 Buttonhole, The, 64 Byorin (Dwarvish copper alloy), 87

C Calendars, 16, 29, 104 Callipygian Goddess See Lyrica Cal Tallwater, 42 Candlestaff, The, 60 Cannons, 9, 53; loading competitions, 17; prices, 90; See also Guns Capstones (Game), 42 Caravels, 9; enchanted sails of, 9; navigation, 39; Rinden vessels sturdy but slow, 26; speed, 39 Cargo; capacity of caravels, 9; value & price, 91 Castles; Bears as fine castle-builders, 18; city walls, 50; lack of twisted citadels in Edar and Celembria, 20; Lamentar Vortur (Kovali citadel engineer), 24; Naumgard, 29; prices of,





92; vulnerability to bombards, 53; See also individual fortifications by name Cat King, 18 Celar, 12; Slime consumption, 76 Celar (Language), 12 Celembria, 20 Celis Zora, 20 Centala, 20 Centaur (Game), 42 Centaurs, 71; Baerg and family, 44 Chainmail Bikini, The (Dwarf Strip-Club), 52 Chains (Currency); used in Rinden, 26 Chapmen See Pedlars Character Creation, 70 Charcoal Kings See Rego Corunda Charlie Drumm, 24 Charts (Nautical); in the cult of the Sea Dragon, 30; prized as treasure and seldom accurate, 39 Chorea Holg, 71 Chosen Ones, 85 Cigars, 25; prices, 87 Cinders (Currency), 23 Citadels See Castles Cities; assumptions in kingdom listings, 8; character of those in Birah, 8; in the Troll Lands (Dretha, Mummy Towns, Desarach’s Snowman colony), 65; See also listings for individual cities Civilization; absent in Pork Hill, 55; and the lies of maps, 27; Boru beliefs about, 10; inferred from rune usage, 7 Clans; Aracor, 19; clan elders’ role in Dwarf government, 22; Dwarf, 23, 25; Kovali barbarians, 21; Minotaur, 18; See also individual clans by name Clawsport, 30; map showing location relative to Shadow River, 61 Climate; and caravel rigging, 9; assumptions made when describing, 8; Heltish Weather Shrines, 48; rural merchants and, 40; shifts affecting Orgalt’s role in the world, 23; Troll preference for cooler, 65; See also each kingdom’s main page Clockwork; displays for show at Dredjer’s, 57; golems, 13; valued in Celar, 12 Cloth See Textiles Clothing; burned-out emeralds become costume fare, 86; desert wear in the mummy towns, 65; essential to Troll shamanic ritual, 81; maid uniform history, 67; prices, 87; priestly costumes designed to commemorate Urleg having sex, 48 Cloudscreamer, 45 Coalmarket Street, 23 Coatestown, 18, 19 Coins See Money Common Demonology, 81 Commons (Currency), 18, 35 Common Tongue, The (Merchant Crude), 36 Cooks; outnumber soldiers in Timberfell’s castle, 14; See Food Gods, Sporting Chefs Corinne, 32 Cosmology, 66 County Eagan, 40 Creesh, 18; featured/exploited on “dragon coins”, 17; one of many races of Men, 6 Crime; criminals banished to etheric planes, 66; exploits of Samaref, 44; fraudulent potions, 84; Galonite slaves generally criminals, 51; murder of the priest beneath Burle’s hearth, 43; Sister Harmony, 48; Thieves’ Guilds, 48; See also individual crimes by name and lots of other topics as well (so much of adventuring is crime!) Crion Lake, 31 Crossbows; formerly illegal in Dreed and the Rindenland, 53; price, 90; shoulder-mounted on Emerald Armor, 26; valued in Celar, 12

Cult of the Empress, 20 Currency See Money Cyclopes, 64

D Dain Olivette, 44 Danion’s Path, 8 Dark Opal, The, 67 Daughters, The (Deities), 11 David the Blonde, 45 Dead Festivals, 29 Deana and Verna, 44; attitudes toward Ben Barber, 43 Death’s Dais, 54 Debased Men See Trolls Deeps, 62; Ever-Crumbling Mansion of Vanity, 77; of Clan Gunwar, 64; Winnowite cracks, 34; See also Ruins, Skyfall Ruins Deities, 6; Aurela, 41; Ballicazar, 11; Beshek, 33; Elvish, 32; Hudicus, 11; invented to justify Kovali excesses, 21; Lyrica, 27; Ondro, 33; the Arbiters, 6; the Daughters, 11; the Primal One, 6; the Sea Dragon, 6; the Wine God, 6; See also Priests, Skyfall, and individual listings for each diety Delerain, 33 Del Moran, 44 Delver Culture, 62; “boomtowns” in the Troll Lands, 65 Delving Troupes; Drunken Louts of Bascerly Lane, 77; Knights of the Easthills, 24; Liberty Brotherhood, 12; Loreseekers banded from Thuriad victors, 28; Monster Conquering Heroes, 45; Tréan’s Trio, 77 Demons, 66; “Common Demonology”, 81; as Player Characters, 72; demoness guarding the Drethan Pools, 65; Here to Stay?, 82; Imp Assassin Zumi, 12; King Timberfell IV, 14; Koval demon-cults, 43; population in Winnow, 34; rain-sprites, 11; Slanc, 34; thieves of days, 29 Deserach, 35, 65 Destiny, 85 Devils See Demons Dingrade, 22 Disera, 8 Distance; units of, 104 Divide, The, 7, 63; monsters of, 11 Divination; limits of scrying magics, 37; one of only a few socially-accepted magical practices, 80; White Slime Trance, 75 Dog-Hole, 61 Dolma River, 18 Domina (Currency), 20 Dorinda Rova, 44 Dorinia, 80 Dorinia’s Truth, 80 Doru Road Rats, 52 Dosrabid’s Unconventional Alchemy, 52 Dra Breguja See Troll Nature Dragon-Men, Secretive Pygmy, 70 Dragon Coins, 17 Dragons; Lochrian mountains riddled with caves of, 19; Lord Fhario, 16; mini-dragons (Boru), 10; royal dragon-hunts in Rinden, 26; siege of Coatestown, 19; Thalon (ice-dragon guardian of Yem), 37; wing-leather used in bookbinding, 93; See also The Sea Dragon, Thalon, Lord Fhario Dragon Song (Dragon Language), 19 Drandai Mountains, 18 Drastaki, 29 Draume, 72 Draume’s Crown See Mastery Dread King Malor, 35 Dread Prince See Orliss


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Dreams; children of the Sea Dragon called by, 30; Dream-Realms, 66; legends of dreaming after the Skyfall, 6 Dredjer the Locksmith, 57 Dreed, 14; admiration for Centaurs and use of Centaur imagery, 71; exclusive source of giant emeralds, 27; ripple-stone folklore, 76; settlement of Temphis, 30 Dreed (Language), 14 Drethan Pools, 65 Driev, 22 Drova Nor, 20 Drue Laich (Language), 35 Drugs; prices, 87; use in Boru, 10-11 Druids; capstones as teaching-game, 42; Harasthenes, 32; Shaelites, 37 Drumhammer (Clan), 25 Duandralin, 9; magic, 81 DuBrow Coronet, 43 Duchy of Laments, 31 Duchy of Naille, 30 Duchy of Throle, 85 Ducks (Hramath), 18 Duir Chore (Language), 35 Duke of Unwald, 31 Dukes See Nobles, and individuals by name Dunrundle, 28 Duskan Lake, 21 Dwarves, 72; belief that Humans were originally their servants, 73; carving-craft magic of (referenced on map), 7; clans of the old kings, 25; contrasted with Minotaur, 18; Dwarvish railroads, 22; Dwarvish terms dominate delver culture, 62; Elf-trade through Corinne, 32; naming conventions, 94; opinions of Temphis, 31; Orgaltish barbarians, 25, 78; presence in Celar, 12; presence in Temphis, 30; races of, 72; respect for boundaries, 22; special senses, 72; strippers, 52; See also Laöch, Orgalt, Rego Corunda Dweomercræft (titter, titter), 66

E East Corner (Neighborhood), 52 Edar, 20 Edar Family, The, 42 Edia; Steelraven, 43 Elders (Currency), 23 Elementals (Planes and Spirits), 66 Elendric, 28 Elf-Coin, 32 Elksdraven, 12 Elsa Dondertys, 13 Elu Islands, 16 Elves, 72; distress over longevity, 33; Drethan Pools (Elvish holy site), 65; elf-coin not shared with outsiders, 32; Elf girls extinguishing fire by whispering to it, 85; Elvish features common in Creesh, 18; excluded from the Shadow Club, 50; in Boru, 10; in Koval, 20; much of Elf-lore really beast-lore, 8; naming conventions, 95; Nectar’s Garden (all-Elf brothel), 54; pre-Skyfall beliefs, 32; presumed creators of the Lenthan Gates, 65; ripple-stone folklore, 76; special senses, 73; See also Anandriel, Birah Elvish (Language) See Imuel Emerald Armor, 26; battle-ready suit on display at Sir Hadel’s, 54; Cloudscreamer, 45; price of, 90; suitable emeralds found only in Dreed, 27; tactical use of stress on small emeralds, 86 Emerald Knights; “victory company” at the end of the Koval Wars, 13; raid on Stokai, 24; the emerald orders, 27 Emeralds, 86; Burnout, 86; giant, 14; giant emeralds exclusively from Dreed, 27; importance to Dreed, 14; in Orgalt, 23





Emerald Worms, 12 Ephemeran Ocada, 34 Espionage; and the Cult of the Sea Dragon, 30; and the silk trade, 68; Boggs’ Balloon hired for, 51; ghosts used as spies, 82; Mezaan’s use of spies to seek out High Dreamers, 66; spies settled in Rogan’s Heath, 43; vernia-related beliefs during the Koval Wars, 49 Etheric Prison-Planes, 66 Ever-Crumbling Mansion of Vanity, 77 Explosives; alchemical coals, 23; military, 53

F Fabric See Textiles, Cosmology Faem (Duke of Shadows); helps maintain the Bells out of pocket, 48; moved the Shadow River gallows, 51 False Men See Trolls Far Princes, 21 Father Elo, 41 Feemerlund, 78 Feirag, 29 Fhario See Lord Fhario Fighters See Warriors Fire Cluster, The, 81 Fishing: Being A Chronicle of Fishing Practices of Middle Temphis Catchers of Fish And The Character and Properties of Those Fish and Sea-Beasts They Hunt and Harvest In The Course of Their Daily Catching (Book), 93 Flicker Street, 57 Floods; sentient, 77 Flotilla, The, 16 Flying Islands See Vernia Fogport, 30 Fogport Treaties, The, 67 Folk Magic, 82 Food; prices, 87 Food Gods, 15; Goddess of Dumplings, 15; God of Baguettes, 15; God of Black-Onion Goulash, 15; God of Pork Noodles, 15; God of Stew, 15 Forever-Abandoned Road, The, 31 Fortresses See Castles Fortune-Telling See Divination Foxgravel, 18 Francesca Arturi, 77 Frostbite Grip, 74 Fumakta Ravarr (Gandi Troll concept of mankind), 11 Funda and Loga, 29 Funeral Parades, 21

G Ga-Shu, The, 56 Gallkor of Koval, 68 Galon; temple of (slave-masters of Temphis), 51 Galtish (Language), 23; spoken in Yem, 35 Games, 42; prices, 89; See also Mastery Ganburys, The, 42 Gandi, 10; homeland of Trolls in Incense Park, 59; only place in Uresia where Trolls are “normal”, 78; Troll settlements, 11 Ganrodor See Blind Owl City Gehm-Kholar Monastery, 18 Ghost Flax, 9; and the rain-sprites, 17 Ghosts; and Rinden standing-stones, 44; as Player Characters, 73; guarding the Drethan Pools, 65; population in Yem, 35; used as spies & soldiers, 82 Giants, 64; as Player Characters, 78; twoheaded song-healing ones, 70; wrestling Trolls for wagers, 47 Gloom, The, 63 Gnomes, 72

Goble Edar, 42 Goblin Cathedrals (Standing Stones), 44 Goblins; believed to be responsible for the murder committed by Burle’s father, 43; Kakar Grool, 43; no relation to “Goblin cathedrals”, 44; who can speak with birds, 85 Gods, Goddesses See Deities Gold; and necromancy, 35; currency, 87; plentiful in Laöch, 23; scent of (to Dwarves), 72; units of account (pounds), 59 Golems; soul golems of Koval Wars, 24 Golu: Shadow of Drunkards See The Wine God Goor Ironfur, 18 Gottle House, 55 Gragero Fyria, 24 Grail Park, 50 Gram Obel, 54 Grandma and Grandpa Ganbury, 42 Grandma August, 60; map, 61 Gravulus (Lake), 20 Great Contests See Sports (National and Local) Greentown, 30 Gresha (Currency), 20 Greywald Mountains, 43 Grieving Mountain, 13 Grivna (Currency), 22 Gruentalyn (Clan), 25 Gryphon Rock, 30 Guilders (Currency); as default Uresia currency, buying power of, 87; used in Dreed, 14; used in Rinden, 26; used in Temphis, 26 Guilds; Lyric Brotherhood, 27; of Shadow River, 48; winery guilds of Dog-Hole, 61 Gum and Wendy Hogan, 45 Gumdrop Palace of Feemerlund, 78 Gun-Meal, 53 Gundel Horad, 19 Guns; laws, standards and technology, 53; naval, 9 Gunwar (Clan), 25 Gunwar Deeps, 64 Gustigus “The Petulant”, 64

H Habalt Ginnerly, 93 Hair; clue to demonic heritage, 72; Drethan pool-water used to restore, 65; magic of red hair stronger than magic of frogs, 79; of elderly Elves, 73 Hammers (Currency), 23 Hangdesh River Gorge, 10 Harasthene Druids of Koval, 32 Harpertown, 8 Harrows, 17 Heavens, The, 66 Helm and Dagger, The (Weapons Boutique), 52 Helt, 18; Heltish Grizzly in the Lenthan highlands, 64; Heltish method (calendar), 16; Heltish Weather Shrines in Shadow River, 48; know the Wine God as Tom Beer, 6; Lie-Crafters, 19; Peninsula of Rare Beasts, 19; Skalsa was last human-dominated realm in, 67; source of slaves to the Temple of Galon, 51 Heltish (Language), 18 Heltish Jewel See Vasalt Heltish Weather Shrines, 48 Hevel, 26 Hideout, The (Tea-House), 54 High Dreamers, 66 High Tembrian (Language), 26 Hirschjärta, 32 Hot-Air Travel, 51 Hote (Duchy of), 31 Hotestown, 30 Hourgohne, 28 House of Micus (Pottery Shop), 56 House Ordelweiss, 12


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Hramath, 70; in Temphis, 30; See also Helt, Lochria, Wise Beasts, and individual Hramath race listings Hudicus, 11 Humans, 73; one of many races of Men, 6 Hundreds (Unit of Time), 16 Hunters of the Nameless; Bjorgald Drumhammer, 31; Hunters’ Embassy, 59

I Ice Spectres See Snowmen Imp Assassin Zumi, 12 Imperia (Currency), 34 Imuel (Language), 8, 32 Incense; alternative form for alchemical wares, 84; and Boru spirituality, 10; Boru sorcerer preference for alchemical, 81; prices, 91 Incense Park, 59 Indifference Elementals, 66 Indulgence (City), 14 Inner Sea; number of islands in, 7; the Mermen present in all parts of, 63; the Sea Dragon’s intentions regarding, 30 Isaacsburg, 26 Islands, 7; emerging from the water, 64; legendary, 17; of Lake Gravulus, 20; See also Vernia, and invidual island listings Isle of Krytus, 20 Isylver, the Dawning Princess, 8

J Jabroch, 18 Jacks (Currency), 35 Jewelry-Money (Boru), 10 Jongleurs See Jesters, Minstrels Jovanos Imps, 53 Jubilance (City), 14

K Kahlstone, 18 Kakar Grool, 43 Keddlegum’s, 56 Keryx Royal, 21 Kettlefish, 45 Kingdoms; invisible (undefined), 7, 78; as random result, 14 Kings See Nobles, and individuals by name Kle Vosta, 20 Knife House (Shadow River), 60 Knight’s Beacon, 60 Knights; activities on the Feemerlund Chair, 79; and the New Hope Faire, 27; Knights of Rogan, 44; Knights of the Easthills, 24; Knights of the Moon, 60; Loreseekers, 29; ransom value, 92; Rinden known for, 26; role against Brovor XXII in Temphis, 47; Sir Hadel’s School of Knighthood, 54; See also Emerald Knights, Warriors Kobolds See Adlet, Hramath Kopan (Currency), 28 Koval, 20; Harasthene Druids of, 32; impact on Birah’s culture, 8; Talarian hostels in, 21 Kovalese (Language), 20; in east-Temphis dialects, 30; possible ties to Savolese, 34 Kovali Emperors and Empresses; Brovor XXII, 47; Empress Zora, 68; Gustigus “The Petulant”, 64; Madwoman Voriis, 8 Kovalis See Koval Koval Wars; Birah lost on the Celembrian battlefields, 20; Emerald Knights spread across Uresia since, 27; potion politics during, 84; role of Rinden knights and Sindran sorcerers in, 47;





role of Shadow River in, 47; Stokai’s role in, 24; thunderships’ role in, 13; vernia in, 49 Kran (Currency), 23 Kreuzinger, 12 Kuna (Currency), 22 Kurastrian Communes, 32

L Lailu, 11 Lake Gravulus, 20 Lake Rund, 18, 67 Lan, 8, 35 Languages; assumptions in kingdom listings, 8; Boru Handsign, 36; Celar, 12; dragon song, 19; Dreed, 14; Galtish (Dwarvish), 23; Heltish, 18; hot food and cute underwear, 14; Imuel (Elvish/Fable), 8, 32; Kovalese (Kovali), 20; Laöchrian, 22; Laöchrian Rune-Song, 36; Merchant Crude (the Common Tongue), 36; of magic, 36; Old Draethic, 12; Orgaltish, 23; Paldu (Zuramese), 10; Savolese, 34; Sindran, 28; Slime, 36; Tembrian (& High Tembrian), 26; Temphisian, 30; “Troll-Speak”, 36; Yemish (Drue Laich, Duir Chore), 35; See also listings for individual languages Laöch, 22; differences from Orgalt, 25; Laöchrian coin used in Anandriel, 32; Laöchrian Thick-Beer, 87; studies of temperature contrasted with those in Boru, 104 Laöchrian (Language), 22 Laöchrian Rune-Song, 36 Laöchrian Vocationalists See Radnika Lasqua (Currency), 20 Laughing Bob, 44 Laughingwater, 8, 9 Leaf House, 55 Leagues, 104 Leather; a good deal of it worn in Celar, 12; armor (prices), 90; dragon-wing, 93 Lederel, 31 Lederel II, 31 Lemna, 20 Lentha, 63 Lenthan Gates, 64; exception to some ordinary rules regarding teleport magic, 37 Leyn, 11 Liberty Brotherhood, 12 Lie-Crafters, 19 Links (Currency), 26 Lira (Currency), 34 Literacy; of Trolls in Boru, 11 Lizard Lord, 18 Lochria, 18; sunstone in, 64; sunstone moved from, 65 Locomotives See Trains Loga, 29 Logantown, 54 Longport, 16, 17 Long Week, 16 Lord Fhario, 16; experiments with his own coinage, 17 Loreseekers, 29; “questing scholars” of Orgalt, 25; banded from Thuriad victors, 28; tasked to investigate Nonathor’s claims, 29 Lorings (Currency), 28 Love Magic Hug, 76 Lowbunter Street, 48, 52 Lukesport, 26 LuMay Family, 45 Lusa, 11 Lyrica, 27; praised in “Blood on the Vine”, 93 Lyrican Lyre, 27 Lyric Brotherhood, 27 Lyssa’s Talismans, 51

M Madame Ona’s School for Girls, 58 Mad Maze, The, 64 Madwoman Voriis; and the printing press, 93; attacks on Birah inspire the Wild Pact, 8; death of, 68 Mages See Magic, and listings for various magetypes (Necromancer, etc) Magi (Currency), 28 Magic, 79-84; as sport (the Thuriad), 28; “black” and “white” distinction regarded as artificial in Sindra, 29; Boru arts recognized as, 10; carving-craft magic of the Dwarves (referenced on map), 7; demonology as courtly sexual hobby in Winnow, 34; dream-realm magics, 66; folk-magic, 82; frontiers/limits of, 37; in Birah, 9; inherent in music, 8; plus in everything besides music, 79; languages of, 36; Laöchrian, 22; Love Magic Hug, 76; magical nature of Sindra, 28; magic items & industry, 80; Orange Slime Burrowing, 76; pain magic, 24; Rego Corunda arts, 22; related equipment prices, 91; slaves in Boru encouraged to study, 10; the Magical Arts, 80; Troll magics tend to be shamanistic, 64; See also Alchemy, Divination, and individual arts by name Magical Girls; Madame Ona’s School for Girls, 58; origins related to the Daughters, 11 Magic Items, 80 Malbarion, 28 Malor, 35 Manner Rook, 22 Manual of Maranax, 93 Maps; misleading nature of, 27; most Birah maps copies of Kovali ones, 21; scale-bars on, 39 Mariners; and the Divide, 63; rules preferences for Mastery, 103; the Flotilla (sailors’ Olympics), 16-17; See also Pirates Mark Edar, 42 Martha Steelraven, 43 Marvo (Skyfall Remnant), 13 Marvo Ruins, 13 Mary Edar, 42 Mastery, 42; game rules, 102 Mead See Booze Medley Cathedral, 60 Men; defined, 6; fumakta ravarr (Gandi Troll concept of mankind), 11 Menhirs, 44 Mercenaries; Pale Dog Alley a hangout for, 52; services auctioned, 51; See also Hunters of the Nameless Merchant Brotherhoods; Vasalt Company, 18 Merchant Crude, 36 Merfolk, 63; Mermaid girlfriend (Liberty Brotherhood), 12 Mezaan See Shah Mezaan Mini-Dragons, 10 Minotaur; minority presence in Boru, 10; the Minotaur Coast, 18; one of many races of Men, 6 Minotaur Coast, 18; homeland of Gundel Horad, 19 Minstrels; easy criminal living in Rinden, 27; Merchant Crude as the language of, 36; rate to hire, 92; See also Lyric Brotherhood Molandi II, 20 Money; “dragon coins”, 17; assumptions in kingdom listings, 8; currency & prices, 87; elfcoin (rumored), 32; minting and minting laws, 59; units of account (pounds), 59 Mongites, 21 Monsters; a primary concern of Emerald Knights, 27; as citizens in Temphis, 31; awakened by emerald mining, 15; peaceful & intel-


Page IV

ligent Slimes mistaken for, 76; Penguin Sea, 70; sea monsters common in southern waters, 11; Sindra features many not found elsewhere, 29; Troll-Landers mistaken for, 78; See also Wild Pact, individual monster listings Moon; calendar “moons”, 16 Moon & Star Sisterhood, 43 Mooncove, 30 Moonstones, 64 Morundath Academy, 29, 93 Mount Brataan ruins of northern Boru, 11 Mount Gador, 30 Mourfa, 73; Mourfa Wine, 87 Mullanis Graff, 28; not a Mary Sue, 108 Mullinham See Rogan’s Heath Mummy Towns, 65 Mushroom Trolls (Mushroom Men) See Mourfa

N Naked Danced The Warlord (Book), 93 Nameless Dwarves, 25; all Draume nameless in Orgalt, 72; bounties in Temphis, 31; Gram Obel suspected of harboring, 54; “Thorvald’s Playmate Among the Accursed Nameless” (book), 93 Nandrée (Elvish Script), 8 Natra, 20 Naumgard, 29 Nauzen, 22 Navigation; and the Divide, 7 Necromancers and Necromancy, 82; sorcererdukes, 36; differences from ordinary necromancers, 82; subtler magics vulnerable to interference from gold, 35; Winter Hall (social club for), 55 Nectar’s Garden, 54 Nehamkin, 28 Nehamkin (Clan), 25 New Hope, 26; New Hope Faire, 27 New Town, 55 New Year, 16 Nivari, 20 Nobles; Anandriel (legendary princess), 32; Brovor XXII, 47; Cat King, 18; Deserach, 65; Dread King Malor, 35; Dread Prince Orliss, 35; Duke “Thundercloud” Ocada, 34; Duke Faem, 48; Duke Lederel, 31; Duke of Unwald, 31; Duke Sciravan, 80; Emporer Gustigus “The Petulant”, 64; Empress Zora, 68; Grand Duke Ropha IX, 30; High King Verin Bellhammer IV, 22; Isylver, the Dawning Princess, 8; King Argot I, 26; King Goor Ironfur, 18; King Molandi II, 20; King Sigurd IV, 12; King Slanc, 34; King Thorvald IV, 23; King Timberfell IV, 14; King Voghard, 28; Lady Ephemeran Ocada, 34; Lizard Lord, 18; Lord Fhario, 16; Madwoman Voriis, 8; Pirate Kings, 16; Prince Yoma, 45; Satyr Prince, 18; Shah Mezaan, 10; Tiny the Copper Metal Slime, 75; Urleg, 47; Verin Bellhammer IV, 22; See also Kovali Emperors and Empresses Noitan, 10 Nonathorian Calendar, 16, 29 Nonathor Levanter, 29 Nuvar, 51 Nyessa, 67 Nysha, Goddess of the Vine See The Wine God

O Ogres, 64 Ohlrahzi (Currency), 10 Oil; cargo value of, 91; lamps as indicator of the wealth of the Pale Dog street coalition, 52; prices of, 88; variability in barrel measurements, 104





Old Bridge Road, 48 Old City, The (Neighborhood), 57; Old City Ghost, 57 Old Draethic, 12 Olivette Family, 44 Omens (Currency); basic goldpiece on which others are modeled, 87; used in Dreed, 14; used in Rinden, 26; used in Temphis, 30 Ondro, 33 Ordelweiss (Noble House), 43 Orgalt, 23; bounties in Temphis, 31; differences from Laöch, 25; eastern Troll settlements, 78; Orgaltish Rye Ale, 87; Slime Circus of, 74; sunstone in, 64 Orgaltish (Language), 23 Orliss, 35; and Death’s Dais, 54; attitudes toward Necromancy, 82 Outer Sea, The, 65 Owl, The (Shadow River Cat Burglar), 58

P Paldu, 10 Pale Dog Alley, 52 Parties of Adventurers See Delving Troupes Passion (City), 14 Path of the Iron Braid, 32 Pedlars; chapmen as fences near Shadow River, 48; contribution to the role of alchemy, 84; distribution of gaming materials, 42; visitors to Rogan’s Heath, 43 Pelea, 18 Penguin Sea-Monsters, 70 Peninsula of Rare Beasts, 19 Perspective (of different character types), 75 Pickles, 25 Pirate Kings, 16 Pirates; and Pork Hill, 55; duck Aracor pirates on the Dolma River, 18; Elu Islands haven for, 16; pirate kings, 16; Satyr panty-raid ships, 77; some of the most notorious have been Slimes, 75; Temphis formerly a pirate haven, 30; the Flotilla (“Sailors’ Olympics”), 16 Planes of Existence, 66 Plaza of God, 47 Plurt & Zumi, 12 Pocky; Glico trademark carefully avoided, 87 Pork Hill, 55 Potions See Alchemy Pounds (money), 15, 59; emerald price in, 86 Prices, 87-93 Priests; boru sex-goddesses priestesses, 45; Brothers of the God Rondo, 50; Father Elo, 41; Galonites, 51; Kakar Grool, 43; murdered one under Burle’s hearth, 43; Rabulus, 43; Sister Harmony, 48; Sisters of Fair Judgment, 77; Tentacle Monks of The Dark and Living Waters, 25; The Ga-Shu, 56; Tréan Aradam, 77 Primal One, The, 6 Princes See Nobles, and individuals by name Prince Yoma, 45 Prism Bright, 11 Prostitution; Brunley and Rika, 43; Merchant Crude as the language of brothels, 36; Nectar’s Garden (Shadow River Brothel), 54; price of, 92; prostitutes instrumental in measuring body temperature (Boru and Laöch), 104 Punitor Adagio, 24

Q Quain (Lord-Governor), 68 Queens See Nobles, and individuals by name Queig Harbor, 26 Questing Scholars of Orgalt, 25

R Raansa, 37, 71; possible link to the sunstones, 65; ruins west of Sword Mountain, 77 Rabulus, 43 Races, Player-Character, 70; See also Individual race listings Radnika, 32 Rahzi (Currency), 10 Rail Barons, 22 Railroads, Rail Travel See Trains Rain-Sprites, 11, 17 Rastaban Rexus, 24 Rats, 14; role in Dreed ripple-stone folklore, 76; social manipulation of their own image, 15; spread of Rattish society through colonies, 71 Rattail Gambit, 40, 42 Realized Motifs, 85 Really Large Table of Life-Altering Moments, 98 Reckoner (Enchanted Navigation Aid), 93 Reed Hill, 26 Rego Corunda, 22; magic, 81 Religion, 79; and runes, 25; Cult of the Empress banned in Koval, 20; Galonites, 51; in Rinden, 26; Medley Cathedral, 60; religious prohibitions (sidebar), 32; satirized in “Blood on the Vine”, 93; Shael, 37; the Seventh String, 27; See also Dieties, Priests Reva, 20 Rhinomen, 19 Rigging; climate and, 9; duels in, 17; price of overhaul, 93 Rika, 43 Rin (Currency), 28 Rinden, 26; Rinden church calendar, 16; sunstone in, 64 Rindenland; alchemical fads in, 84; Talarian hostels in, 21; See also Celar, Rinden, Winnow Ripple-Stones, 76 Rivers; Achla Doru (Shadow River), 47; Dolma, 18; Hangdesh, 10; Scott’s, 45; Vaussen, 13 Rogan’s Heath, 40; church and bakery, 41; map of, 41 Rogan Hoggart, 41 Rondo See The Wine God Ropha (Grand Duke); reaction to Ginnerly’s maps and charts, 93 Ropha IX, 30 Rose-Crystal Sword of Hudicus, 11 Royal Necropolis, The, 35 Rubla (Currency), 22 Ruins; Dretha and the Drethan Pools, 65; Mummy Towns, 65; Raansa ruins west of Sword Mountain, 77; seemingly absent from Grieving Mountain, 13; Stokai catacombs, 24; the Buttonhole, 64; the Gunwar Deeps, 64; the Mad Maze, 64; the Marvo monastery (Celar), 13; See also Deeps, Skyfall Ruins Rum See Booze Rundle (Rangost Silver’s Assistant), 53 Rundle (Unit of Measurement), 104 Rundles (Currency); used in Dreed, 14; used in Temphis, 30 Runes; “Adventurer’s Guide to Common Runes” map, 7; differences between Orgalt & Laöch, 25; ripple-stones used for runestones, 76; See also Scripts, Languages Runi and Vungwalden, 25

S Sailors See Mariners Sailors’ Olympics, 17 Sails; enchanted, 9, 39, 93; prices, 93 Samaref, 44 Satyr Prince, 18


Page

Satyrs, 77; Francesca Arturi, 77; in Boru, 10; Nuvar, 51; one of many races of Men, 6 Savolese (Language), 34 Sciravan, 80 Scott’s Landing, 40; sugar from, 45 Scott’s River, 45 Scripts; Heltish writing, 18; Nandrée, 8; See also Runes Scrying See Divination Sea Dragon, The, 6; Greentown cult of, 30; likely role in thundership disasters, 13; rain-sprites unwitting accomplices of, 17 Sea Monsters; off the southern coast of Boru, 11; Penguin, 70 Serpentman, 18 Sevenroad, 28 Seventh String, 27 Sewers; and the spread of rattish society, 71; Shadow River, 59 Sex; and the capture of David the Blonde, 45; Boradran prohibitions on enjoying, 32; Duke Urleg’s celebration of finally having some, 48; goal of the Seventh String, 27; origins of Winnowite demons, 34; price of Satyr’s Balm, 90; Satyrs judge others by performance in, 77; See also Prostitution Shadow Club, 50 Shadow River, 47; and the vernia, 49; Arena, 50; auction blocks, 51; Citadel & Market, 50; Civilian Docks, 56; Gallows, 51; gallows, 51; importance, 30; map of, 46; Sewers & Tunnels, 59; Shadow River Necropolis, 48; Slave Pens, 51; Walls & Defenses, 50; See also numerous listings of individual Shadow River establishments, characters, and more Shaelites, 37 Shah Mezaan, 10 Shamanism; Troll, 81 Shaporan Hills, 70 Shillings (Currency), 18 Ships; cargo, 91; prices, 93; See also Caravels, Flotilla, and invididual ships by name Shokla, 81 Sigurd IV, 12 Silver; units of account (pounds), 59 Silver’s Warehouse, 53 Sindra, 28; know the Wine God as Golu, 6; Kurastrian Communes, 32; Sindran Bloodpowder, 87; Sindran Oracle (map reference), 7 Sindran (Language), 28; spoken in Yem, 35 Sindran Oracle, 7 Sins (Spirits), 17 Sir Hadel’s School of Knighthood, 54 Sister Harmony’s Blessed Lunch, 48 Sisters of Fair Judgment, 77 Skalsa, 28, 67 Skull’s Hatch, 53 Skull Basin, 31 Skyfall, 5; Elvish beliefs, 32; not considered a myth in Yem, 35; speculated date of, 67; survivors of, 6 Skyfall Ruins, 62; Baltaan (Boru), 11; City of Marvo, 13; Delerain, 33; in character creation, 85; languages found in, 36; Laöchrian Secret Tunnels, 23; Mount Brataan ruins of northern Boru, 11; Vasalt, 19, 67 Slanc, 34 Slavery; and the Galonites (Temphis), 51; Birah’s years as a slave state, 8; Boru slaves encouraged in sorcery and scholarship, 10; presumption of in Orgalt, 25; slave prices, 92; See also Nameless Dwarves Slime Circus of Orgalt, 74 Slimes, 74; known to many only as aggressive monsters, 76; language of, 36; Sluice, 77; traumatized by jam, 45; Yellow the most common in Human and Elvish communities, 76 Sluice (Slime), 77





Slumbercats, 17 Smoketown See Borindor Snoopy Dance of Evil, 79 Snow Harbor, 35 Snowmen, 74; city of, 65; origins in Yem, 37 Soggy Creek, 45 Soldiers See Mercenaries, Warriors Sorcery See Magic Soul Golems, 24 Sour Plums, 45 South Monument Street, 50 Sovereigns (Currency); rarity, 87; used in Dreed, 14; used in Rinden, 26; used in Temphis, 30 Spacecraft; failed Uresian attempts at, 66 Spells See Magic Sphinxes, 19 Spiders; Funda and Loga, 29 Spidersilk; Boru’s monopoly ended, 68; prices, 88, 91 Spirits See Ghosts, Booze Spore-Balls (Lighting), 23 Sporting Chefs; admission to events, 92; See also Food Gods Sports (National and Local); applied sorcery (the Thuriad, Sindra), 28; archery (Localona), 34; cooking (Dreed), 15; exotic dancing (Boru), 10; fencing and brawling (Celar), 1213; New Hope Faire tournaments (Rinden), 27; obsession with inspired by the Arbiters, 6; philosophical debate (Boru), 10; “Sailor’s Olympics” (Elu Isles), 17; sour plum jam contest (Rogan’s Heath, Rinden), 45; storytelling (Vasalt), 19; waterfall climbing (Vaussburg), 13 Starlight Stones See Emeralds Stoat Dwarves (Draume), 72 Stokai, 20; Stokai Fist, 24 Stone (Currency), 18 Storm Sprites See Rain-Sprites Storytelling; most celebrated skill (and public sport) in Helt, 19 Strassfein, 12 Streets; width, 50 Strike-Tokens, 17; price of, 89 Strodanya (Currency), 22 Suicide; due to the torment of the Harrows, 17; of Desarach, 36; of divine handmaidens at the Marvo ruins, 13 Summer Swine, 29 Summoners; Common Demonologists preference for the term outside Sindra, 81 Sunstones, 64 Sword Mountain, 30, 77 Synsa, 10

T Talarian Alchemy, 21 Tall Barrel Street, 52 Tallwater Family, 42 Tamboru (Currency), 10 Tamrahzi (Currency), 10 Tanglewood, The, 31 Tauroids See Minotaur Teleportation; limits, 37; the Lenthan Gates, 64 Tembrian (Language), 26; part of Celar, 12 Temperature, 104 Temphis, 30; Talarian hostels in, 21; Temphisian Sour Plums, 45 Temphisian (Language), 30 Temple of Kelt, 58 Tentacle Monks of The Dark and Living Waters, 25 Textiles; fabric prices, 88, 91; Marvo handmaidens trade exclusively for, 13; See also notable textiles by name (Spidersilk, Ghost Flax) Thalon, 36, 37; only known ice-dragon, 74 Thieves’ Guilds, 48

Thieves of Days, 29 Thorny Cove, 16, 17 Thorvald IV, 23 Throne of Skulls, 35 “Thundercloud” Ocada, 34 Thunderships, 13 Thuriad, 28 Timberfell IV, 14, 15 Time, 29; limits on temporal magics, 37; measurement of, 104; travel time, 39 Timeline of Noted Events, 67 Tiny the Copper Metal Slime, 75 Toltava (Currency), 34 Tom Beer See The Wine God Ton Vial, 84 Torga, 44 Toshish, 10 Tournaments See Sports (National and Local) Trader’s Leagues See Merchant Brotherhoods Trains, 22; speed and nature of train-travel, 23 Transmortal Planes, 66 Travel; hot-air, 51; travel times by land and water, 39 Tréan’s Trio, 77 Tréan Aradam, 77 Trogs, 64 Troll Lands, 63; inhabitants as Player Characters, 78 Troll Nature, 11 Trolls; as Player Characters, 78; minority presence in Boru, 10, 11; seen as lesser than Men, immune to longing for the islands of Uresia, 6; shamanism, 64, 81; Troll-Speak, 36; Troll Faith, 79; unrelated to ‘Troll hands’ measurement, 104; wrestling Giants for wagers, 47 Truma, 18 Turu, 87 Two Trusts, 16

U Un-Men See Trolls Undersea, The, 62 Units of Measurement, 104 Unruly Citadel, 11 Uplands of Mong, 21 Urax, 36 Uresia; map of, 38; size in real-world terms, 78; See also the whole book, because duh Urio and Vitassi, 93 Urleg/Urleg’s Temple, 47 Ursoids See Bears (Hramath)

V Vach Boggs, 51; and Sprua’s visits to Shadow River, 49 Valdencrag, The, 13 Valt, 22 Vanity (City), 14 Vanity Cut, 86 Vasalt, 18, 19; Dungeons of Vasalt discovered, 67 Vasalt Company, 18 Vasalt Haggarty, 11 Vaussburg, 12; waterfall climbing in, 13 Vaussen River, 13 Vaussenstrom, 13 Verin Bellhammer IV, 22 Verna, 44 Vernia, 49; led to discovery of Shadow River by the Dark Opal, 67; relationship to calendars, 16 Video Games, 30 Viles, 64 Village Life, 40 Vitassi, 93


Page VI

Voghard, King of Skalsa, 28 Volenwood See Anandriel Volume; units of, 104 Voriis See Madwoman Voriis Vorn Redis, 48 Voroch Meadhall, 57 Votus, 10 Vungraven (Clan), 25 Vungwalden, 25 Vurndenburg, 12

W War; attacks on Birah by Madwoman Voriis, 8; Celembrian battlefields, 20; common and brief in Helt, 18; rare in Anandriel, 33; See also Koval Wars Warriors; Bear-Fu, 18; Charcoal Kings, 22; equestrian archers of Winnow, 27; ghosts used as soldiers, 82; Mongites’ failure to provide soldiers to Koval, 21; open-hand fighters of Birah, 8; rates to hire, 92; typical Laöchrian, 22; See also Barbarians, Emerald Knights, Knights, Mercenaries Waterfall Climbing, 13 Weaponry; prices, 90; truly funky, 85 Weather See Climate Weight; units of, 104 Wendy Hogan, 45 West Gate District, 59 White-Beard, The, 43 White Column Way, 52 White Slime Trance, 75 Wild Pact, The, 8-9; considered a necessary balance by some, 72; Duandralin wild magic, 81; unknown outside Birah, 9 Wind-Sprites, 17, 107; See also Rain-Sprites Wine See Booze The Wine God, 6; guise as The God Rondo, 50 Winnow, 34 Winter Hall, 55 Wise Beasts, 71; nearly the norm in richly magical areas, 8; rats of Dreed, 14; Samaref, 44 Wishing Stones, 44 Witches; and the foundation of the first Magic Maid order, 67; Deana and Verna, 44 Wizards See Magic, and listings for various mage-types (Necromancer, etc) Women; sexism in Celari culture, 12 Wrangler Dunley, 44 Wyana Dunley, 44

X Xamentar Vortur, 24 Xylography, 93

Y Yellow Maple Bow, 34 Yem, 35 Yemish (Language), 35 Yoma, 45 Yuna-Do, 48; See also the Wine God

Z Zisamir See Lentha Zodiac; and the vernia, 49; chart, 83; relation to calendars, 16 Zora, 64, 68 Zumi, 12 Zuramese See Paldu Zyrias, 66





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