The Stones of Teufel

Lately, I've been thinking about the meaningless of reality. About the unstoppable march of entropy leading to the eventual heat death of the universe. About how void life is of meaning; the uselessness of effort.

I've also been thinking of demons, wizards, dogs and runes. Two of these I'll jam together. The other two, I'll hold for later. Let's see what the hell I'm up to:

The Stones of Teufel


Runes carved on to stones have been used for divination since magic came to the northern lands. Place them in a sack, think about your question and draw. Knowledge can then be gleaned from the results. Basic stuff that everyone knows.

However, there was one wizard who saw this as nothing more than random chance. He sought more in his divination rituals; he sought certainty. He sought knowledge unknowable. In his madness he carved the runes and inked them in his own blood. Then, from the gap beyond physical space, he drew forth twenty four shapeless consciousnesses, and bound them to the stones.

For this his name should have been remembered for all time. Instead, due to what happened next, his name has been burned from the history books. Cursed and forgotten.

The stones - or rather the consciousnesses bound to them - given form in this reality did indeed provide the accurate divination the wizard so craved, but in doing so began to learn. Began to grow.
Within the decade, the entities on the rune stones gained true sentience and with it, free will.

The stones whispered out to those nearest the wizard, tempting them into stealing the stones, and taking the stones for themselves. Promises of power, appeals of lust, or brute mental assault; these were the lures used, and, in time, the stones were stolen. Once claimed, however, the thieves found themselves patsies to, and now hosts of, the entities bound within. Through these hosts, the entities were able to take full physical manifestations.

Now calling themselves the Teufel (or "Demons" by the peasantry, as they spit and make several warding gestures), they sought nothing more than to sew fear and destruction through out the ages. Some formed cults, others played games of chess with city-states as pawns. Still others turned the weak minded into murderous psychopaths. Several groups have risen to defend against them, yet all eventually fall, the stones they took possession of returning to circulation.

Interestingly, should conflict arise between the Teufel, lines seem to be drawn along aett membership.

Listed below is overview information on the Teufel. More indepth information on each to follow as warranted. They are known to have three physical forms: that of the host, that of the Tuefel in full, and a hybrid of the two forms. While in hybrid or true form, a mark of the Teufel's rune burns dully on their skin. While the rune names are used for individual Teufel when needed, feel free to create your own by mashing the keyboard randomly, then adding random apostrophes - because fantasy names.

A smarter man would have shortened this list by aetts. I've started this and stopped, several times, overwhelmed by the amount of work I've bit off. I've learned a lot about production management and setting timing goals in writing this thing. Or, rather, I've encountered these problems. It is likely I've learned nothing from this.

Rune
   A humanoid with multisegmented legs, matted rusty fur hiding rows of barbs, an over broad head bound in a carapace and flesh with a mouth poorly stretched around two mandibles, dripping a foul viscus fluid, and two burning green eyes. Hosts tend to be wealthy individuals, whether suddenly or old money. In both host form and teufel form, any treasure given out freely is cursed. Holder of the treasure should make a Save vs Magic per hour, until the curse is triggered. Once the curse has been triggered, the treasure is no longer cursed.

Rune
   The beasts stands a foot or more higher than the host, bearing the legs and head of an ox, though the chest of human, matted in thick fur. Onyx horns grow from the side of the head, tipped in gold. Its eyes, nose and mouth constantly drip blood. The host enjoys significant increased (+4) physical attributes, significant lowered (-4) mental attributes and the ability to perform bull rush attacks. They also gain a lust for brutality.

   In an ancient age, the Mad King Tryggvason received the uruz stone as a coronation gift. Where his father's reign was known as a time of peace, his is noted for the violence and suffering forced onto the kingdom by the king. Myth states he built a hidden maze under the capital city, in which he hunted humans for sport.

Rune
   A hulking, hunched over, blue thick-scaled reptilian humanoid monstrosity, armed with five inch claws on each finger. Lighting arcs across the beast's body, occasionally leaping to near by things, allowing the host and demon to apply electrical damage to their attacks. Externally sourced electricity tends to provide healing. The host also gains a controlled and moderately uncontrollable (save based, when angered) ability to enter a Rage state.

   There is a  tale of an old man that stalks the ruins through out the Pass of the Thunder King seemingly searching for something. The old man, if encountered, will offer hospitality, but inevitably grow short in temper, casting the adventurers back out in the harsh weather of the pass. In short order, the old man summons a hulking beast and a monstrous storm to hunt down those who provided the offense. None are known to have escaped the beast. So...how do these stories get back to be told? Same way they always do.

Rune
   A speaker of honeyed words (a constant charm effect), the host form tends to have the ear of a king, general or other person of power. The transformation to teufel form involves the peeling of skin and sickening shifting of bone. The head elongates and sprouts four extra eyes, the hair melding into fleshy tendrils. Along the body further tendrils sprout. Each of these flesh stalks - including the tongue in the skull - split open on the tip, revealing a mouth. As the beast moves, the mouths whisper  secrets and taunts; lies and truths.

Rune
   The monstrosity appears as the host, but with six extra arms growing from their abdomen, multi-jointed backwards; their legs merged together, bending the wrong way around into a crude stinger tail, tipped by bone spikes generated from their feet. They crawl on their backs, neck twisted 180 degrees. Their lower jaw splits open, creating mandibles dripping with a thick green toxin. This toxin allows for a Poison attack via bite and stringer, which offers the standard Save vs Poison to resist, and causes paralysis and eventually death.

   Centuries ago, the beast ravaged a countryside, poisoning the fields and water, praying upon livestock and peasants alike. Farms were razed, meadhalls abandoned. A passing band of gallowglass heard of the destruction and sought the beast out. What they found was a maddening cave of gore and horror. Quivering sacks of flesh, pools of poison, shifting caverns that doubled back on themselves and, at the center of it all, the beast. Before confronting the monster, the leader of the men sent the survivors to find their fallen alchemist's supplies and, as he distracted the creature, bring the cave entrance down. Neither were seen again, though the land remains uninhabitable.

Rune
   Walking upon festering, cracked hoof legs; wearing thin stretched yellowy skin over a lithe frame; and having a horse skull for a head, Kaunan is the Plague that Walks. Where he walks ruin follows. Plants wilt and die, milk curdles in the teat, livestock begin to rot while still alive, peasants grow festering wounds.  Standing ten feet tall, it is capable of belching forth a cloud of disease (once per hour; 20ft radius; Save vs Poison) as well as imbuing arrows with plague (as Apollo from Greek myth; 3/day).

   Centuries ago, a strange sickness befell the small village of Krankheit. One in every three fell sick. The king, in his grace, sent his very own physician. Arriving in customary plague garb - bird mask, brim hat, overlong robe - the physician took the old town meeting building as his ward. At first, it seemed relief had finally arrived to the town. Yet, despite the efforts of the plague doctor, the plague grew worse. Or, rather, it simply grew. It spread to the live stock, the plants, the very ground. A purple, spore releasing weed slowly grew from the town hall.  And then, most disturbingly, the dead began to walk. The mass graves emptied themselves, the newly deceased rose from their sick beds. In fear, the people sought out the doctor. What they found in his stead, however, was the Kaunan tuefel.

  A sole survivor was found miles from the town, suffering and in pain. Based on the account he relayed, the king ordered a wall built around the town. Since then, the wall has been guarded by the kingsmen, and expanded out of necessity twice - to attempt to hold off the spread of the strange weed. The tuefel has not been seen since, but no one has had the steel will to journey into the town to check.

Rune
   In teufel form Gebo appears as a figure covered in pink, wet, burned-healed flesh, lacking hair, eyelids, nose, ears and nails. On occasion the skin can be seen to squirm of it's own accord. Other times - the bad times - the skin can be seen to peel away from the body in strips, exposing the leaking flesh underneath, and lashing out as if tentacles. Further, should any weapon (missile) strike the sticky wet skin, the holder of said weapon makes a Save vs Paralysis/Resist Disarm, or have the item wrenched from their hands (missiles, obviously, do not get this save). The aforementioned skin tentacles can then easily weld these weapons.

Rune
   Unlike the transformation of the other teufel that usually involve the slow and subtle changing of features, the transformation for Wunjo involves the host literally vomiting their insides up, until the expelled quivering mass of flesh inhales the remains of the host, before solidifying into a lithe form with cloak like black molting wings for arms, and a horned raven head. Black, fermented ichor spills from its mouth as it speaks. Strange parasites crawl in and out of the feathers. Those that come in physical contact with the creature suffer from a hangover, though all within 30 feet find it hard to remember the encounter later.

Exposure to the ichor causes permanent memory loss.
Exposure to the parasites bestows (on a failed save) a blood borne disease that causes uncontrolled dancing.

Rune
   While most teufel forms are fairly consistent, Hagalaz's form alters based on the dead in the surrounding area, as they crawl from their resting spot and join the collective form. Due to this, Hagalaz is typically composed of animals, however in urban areas it tends to be more humanoid form. Which ever form it takes, Hagalaz carries the ability to bestow unlife onto corpses around them, from zombie to bone golem  when fresh bodies are hard to find. Often works in conjunction with Kaunan.

Rune
   A creature of pure, twisting shadow, Naudiz is rarely encountered directly. His power, however, when encountered, is rarely forgotten. The teufel is able to bend light and shadow to form the most believable illusions, showing the victim their greatest fears, pried from the depths of their very souls. So fine is its control over the illusions that it can show one adventurer an image of their mother peeling her own skin off before disemboweling herself while never losing her ever widening smile, whilst the rest of the party watches helplessly in imaginary chains as the original party member is swallowed whole by a (real??) flesh worm.

Rune
  Appearing as a Large, vaguely humanoid form of solid ice, save for the host trapped frozen within, Isaz is a slow moving force of nature.  Any water based substance that touches (including blood) freezes instantly, allowing for an increasing of mass and change in shape relatively easily. As an abomination of ice, fire does time and a half damage in both teufel and host form. Not exactly known for it's ability for independent thought, Isaz is often used as muscle in the plans of other teufel. The host is given little consideration.

Rune
   On first sight, Jera appears to be the host from the waist up, and a large, swollen locust from the waist down. Though, on a closer, more awful, second look, they're revealed to be entirely composed of locusts, of various size and colors, squirming and crawling over one another. At will, the teufel can explode into a swarm and control said swarm with full proficiency, and can strip a corpse of all flesh in mere moments. When in this state, Jera attacks as though a breath weapon (save or be bit for 1d8), and can only be damaged by area effects.

Rune
   Often confused for a Bla-Maor of the southern Highsunlands by the untraveled peasantry, Ihwaz appears as a bald, muscular, figure standing seven feet tall with deep obsidian skin and glowing red eyes. It rarely speaks, and prefers being hosted by mutes, but when it does it speaks in a voice as deep as stone slap sliding over burial vaults. Ihwaz grants the ability to cast and read the runes with complete accuracy, however all divinations are grim and of ill portent. Consider it a Bestow Curse [Pretty Fucked] if you're needing more detailed mechanics.

Rune
   Appearing as a floating sack of flesh with a subliming form and trailing, elongated arms, the body doted with a plurality of eyes, and a maw lined with needle teeth, Pertho allows the host to summon spirits of the dead, and compel them to speak. With this ability, the teufel has formed many cults through out the ages, tempting the followers with ability to speak to lost ones once more.

Rune
   Standing a noble seven feet tall, Algiz appears as a humanoid covered in short brown fur with a deer's head, the antlers of which are shedding and bloody. A flame burns eternal between the antlers, yet produces no heat and only the faintest of light. Those posessed by it gain access to magical abilities  and arcane knowledge (+3 level). They also gain the desire to wear nothing but fine magical robes.

   Little is known of Algiz, as it prefers to work behind the scenes, in support of other teufel plots.

Rune
   The host's hair burns away as scales erupt from their skin, their legs elongating and forming a twelve foot tail. The eyes are completely replaced with fire. A ridge of bony spines runs from the base of the neck to the tip of the serpentine tail. The upper torso, besides the scales and spines remains mostly the same. Anything the teufel touches takes fire damage; parchment burns, metal heats up hot enough to brand, leather...does whatever leather does when heated. Smells delicious? Weakens it, surely. Further more the teufel is immune to said fire, and even has some control over nearby fire sources (as thematically appropriate). The cold, however, strikes at his heart doing damage and a half again.

   Some scribes attest that the burning of the Knowledgehoard of Wissenstadt - famed for being the largest collection of human works of art, literature and research - to a failed attempt by the Brothers of the Sworn at exercising a pyromancer bound to sowilo, in order to imprison the teufel and secure the stone. Along with hundreds of lives, many rare secrets were lost that night, as the collections of scrolls and codices provided fuel for the raging fires.

Rune
   Ill doom falls upon the community in which Tiwaz takes residence. Magic falters, artisans lose their passion, the common folk become disinterested in their various duties. Continued contact with the teufel imposes cumulative penalties to Mental attributes as minds dull, communication becomes difficult, cleverness is lost (only restored via Remove Curse).  As the small folk don't tend to be strong in the mental functions, towns soon devolve into roaming hordes of angry, grunting thugs.
 
   In transformation, the hosts body twists like a washrag, with all of their limbs splitting in two, gaining length and ending in spikes. Despite being elongated and wrapped around its head, the teufel suffers no hindrance in sight or speech.

Rune
   While the host is always a striking lovely young woman, the teufel appears with a broad, eight-eyed, four mandible mouth full of barbs, on an eight limbed body. The four limbs not shared by the host end in the needle sharp points, and gore webs between each of the limbs.
   In host form, it fully understands the power its physical attributes carry, and will use them in full to carry out its plans. In teufel form, it is fond of lounging in a web of arms and tormenting victims trapped in cocoons of flesh, through injecting them with venom and slowly, agonizingly melting their insides to eventually be drank.
   While rare, on occasion the host can become pregnant. When carried to full term and excreted from her flesh womb, the spawn almost always come out wrong. Too short limbs, tails, tiny horns - all possible deformities. There has only ever been one to come out perfect and passable for human, and he is her Favorite.

   Should she ever find herself in dire straits and at least one of her less favorite children be alive in the world, she need only climb into her armweb, which can then fold in on itself, smaller and smaller, into a singularity. The armweb, and her, will then erupt violently from the offspring, killing it and making a general mess of the area.

Rune
    Gifts the host with extreme speed, but also curses them with a short temper and the ability to be summoned by Mannaz. When in demon form, the host's skin splits and peels away as Ehwaz crawls out, a skeletal horse with eight legs and constantly on fire (has resistances like skeletons). Burning hoof prints mark the ground upon which it walks. Fire belches forth from the bone jaws (Breath Attack, every 1d4 rounds).

   When mounted by Mannaz, Ehwaz gains several additional abilities. Fire solidifies into armor on the skeletal flanks, burning any whom might touch it (save Mannaz) and providing protection. Bull like goring horns burst forth from the horse skull, allowing for an additional attack. Liquid fire drools from the mouth of the horse.

Rune
   Appearing as the host, but with rotten and decaying skin, blood maggots swimming in and out of the flesh. Mannaz, however, when in teufel form, prefers to don bone plate armor over its horrific visage - the suit always having a helm of a human skull fused with ram horns. The teufel bears attack progression as a fighter, and when in the bone plate can sacrifice pieces to force the opponent to reroll damage. On a critical hit, Mannaz has a chance of stealing a bone from the target and replacing the missing piece (through a failed Save vs Magic, obviously). When pieces are missing, however, he gains the ability to attack using the blood maggots, which very much want to burrow into the heart of whom ever they land on. Failed save victims have 1d3+2 rounds before the maggots get to the heart to drink up all the blood within.

Rune
   The head of the host takes the form of a cephalopod with over large eyes and ten tentacles, two of which are three times as long as the rest, encircling a barbed filled mouth, that constantly oozes a thick viscus substance. The body is covered in chromatophores allowing for a Skilled blending into the environment (5-in-6). When in a panic, Laguz can expel a thick cloud of nauseating ink, that both blinds and hinders it's opponents. Further, while uncomfortable, the host has the ability to breathe underwater.

   While not known for one specific event, Laguz tends to take a pleasure in hired killing, considering it a form of art. Perhaps the truest form. Hosts tend to be already skilled assassins. The last known host was rumored to be Longshot Cecil, a member of the Rocktown Assassin's Guild.

Rune
   A bloated, hulking, malformed toad of a thing standing ten feet tall, with gelatinous rolls of fat, hunched shoulders, and pale sickly skin constantly dripping with mucus. A neckless head bears a hinged bullfrog mouth full of needle teeth that is capable of swallowing a small calf whole and two eyes larger than melons. What makes Ingwaz truly terrible, however, are the pox marks covering its back. Evidence of the thinly scab sealed puss sacks underneath it, each mark is an exit point for a one inch, plump, tendriled worm, which, when introduced into the cranial cavity of a host, proceeds to grow its tendrils into the nerves of the host, soon gaining control over them.

Rune
   Appearing as an androgynous humanoid with alabaster skin and a face void of features, save for a ring of cataract filled, lazy dead eyes that encircle the head. While the eyes are physically incapacitated, they offer the host/teufel normal vision in 360 degrees, albeit colorless. Although Othila floats a couple feet off the ground, as touching said ground would sully Othila, it lacks actual capacity for flight. In the rare instance it chooses to speak, it's shrill voice seems to come from within the listener's head.
   While playing host to this stone, the host gains a wealth of arcane and forgotten knowledge, though lucidity may be an issue.

   In the times when prophecy and divination come in fashion, one may find the Brothers of the Poisoned Eye lurking in major cities. Appearing as a social club, they are actually a cult in service to Othila, worshiping it as a deity and, in exchange for their devotion, the teufel teaches the followers the art of divination.

Rune
   A figure of pure light, Dagaz offers the host the ability to see into other realities, even though the way be traditionally blocked. From this the host can glean knowledge of people they couldn't otherwise have, using this (giving bonuses) to persuade or intimidate the target. This ability may also be weaponized. On a successful touch, and failed save by the target, the target is filled with glimpses of other realities. Visions of their infinite failures and uncountable insignificance flood the mind of the target, staggering/stunning them for 1d3 rounds. On a critical and failed save, the target is driven to suicide because, after all, what does it matter? What does anything matter?

Variants 


While I'm personally against its usage, if you're of lesser moral character, you could use the blank stone:

Rune:
   While not actually a rune stone, some sets of lesser integrity hold a blank stone to represent the unknown or unforeseeable. While this seems in contrast to the nature of a divination tool, the set used all those centuries ago contained one. Through dual slit irises, its eyes glow softly with the color of void. Its voice echos with the sounds of burning suns and existential probability. This teufel has only ever had one host, who, upon binding the other teufels to stone, set out to burn his name from existence. In his presence probability and chances tend to alter. Sure Things tend to become Far Shots, and One in a Million Chances happen Nine Times Out of Ten.

Another potential variation is instead of voluntary possession caused by whispered temptations, the stones act as Magic Jars, forcing the hosts out of their bodies and trapping within the stones. How awful would it be to watch the hulking horror melt into an ectoplasm covered old man, who proceeds to vomit up a strange stone, just as the tank screams in pain and begins arcing lightning off themselves? Very much, that is how awful.

Originally, the thought was to have these demon bound to tarot cards, but then flavors and ideas changed. Using that idea is simple enough, however. The above demons are bound to the Major Arcana, while the Minor Arcana is host to minor demons without names. These minor demons provide bonuses to the host based on the card value (divided by 4, round up) and to the attribute represented by the suit.
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Rent-A-Spell


Are you tired of dealing with piles and piles of scrolls taking up your precious inventory slots?

[Scene of dwarf becoming covered in an avalanche of scrolls, throwing his hands up in hopeless despair]

Are you tired of the Magic User handling all the arcane utilities?

[Scene of a screaming wizard tied helpless to an alter, having his heart carved out for the glory of Xl'azz the Ever Hungry. Zoom in on the dwarf from before, caged and helpless to be sacrificed next, his hand on his hips, shaking his head over exaggeratedly]

Well then come on down to Rent-A-Spell and rent yourself a spell!

[Scene of Magic Users sitting around paper work and arcane knick-knack covered desks, looking mostly board; all of them smoking pipes]

We've got the best trained professionals, waiting to imbue you with the highest quality spells, for half the cost of a scroll. From Airy Water to Wizard Lock, we've got them all!* And they're waiting for YOU!

[Scene of the same dwarf rubbing his beard while looking at a sack of gold, then nodding eagerly and handing it over to a Magic User seen in the previous scene]

No more will hordes of needed scrolls be taking up inventory slots that could be holding treasure instead.

[Return to avalanche scene. The mountain of scrolls vanish with a ting! leaving on the startled and surprised dwarf.]

No more will you be relying on the party's Magic User for the most awkward situations.

[Return to sacrifice scene, wizard is now eviscerated, the lead cultist holding his innards up to the idol of Xl'azz the Ever Hungry. Zoom in to the dwarf from before, now whispering to the cage lock, casting Knock. The door swings open as the dwarf gives a thumbs up to the camera.]

So come on down to Rent-A-Spell, across from Honest Hanks "Horse" Haberdashery, and pick out your new spell, today! 

(Service and processing fees apply)


"What?" You might be asking, with good reason. I was reading through LotFP spells and noticed Bestow Spell Ability. Seemed a good way to make money, if'n you had an over abundance of unemployed Magic Users.



* Summoning spell not available. We're not messing with that hassle. Strange Waters 1 currently out of stock. 
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A Space Setting

Combining space and fantasy ain't nothing novel. Dragon Star, Spell Jammer, Star Wars, 40K, that odd story arc in the later seasons of Babylon 5... others, I'm sure. The point is that it's been done. Too much, some say. I, myself, am on the fence about the combination. Really, planet hopping is no different than plane hopping. 

Either way, whichever your take on it, I've got a space setting stuck in my head that's distracting me from demon making. Thus, I'm slapping the odd bits I've got down, making it your problem. As always, use as you like, don't if you don't.

RACES

Dwarves  

Originally a subterreanian race due to the conditions of their home system (see Chthon below), they eventually made it out into the galaxy. Creatures of pure science and reasoning, they've neither the talent nor the place in their society for magic, instead turning to physics and genetic augmentation. Their warrior caste are practically veterans by the time they finish training camp. Were the first race humans met as they stepped out in to the greater galaxy, and therefore are the more accepting of the humans. Though the dwarves view the humans usage of AI as sinful, and it will probably cause a holy war in a few centuries, or one really bad afternoon.

Their society is divided into castes, mimicing the strata of their rocky home world.

Elves 

An odd race, largely hated by the others (no thanks to the Supremecy Wars), the elves have never taken to mechanical science, instead showing natural talent for magic and biological symbiosis. Every elven child, on their naming day, receives a familiar ("illith" in their tongue) not unlike a dog sized octopus. Through out their childhood, the elf forms a pshyic bond with the familiar. Should the elf become a fighter pilot, the illith is surgically inbedded within the living fighter craft, allowing for a neural interface between elf and machine. Should the elf become promoted to captain of their own vessle, the fighter is further surgically inbedded within the vessle, allowing the neural interface to spread.

Should the elf ever commit a crime worthy of capital punishment, and found guilty, the illith is instead executed and the elf themself exicled. In the darker shadows of elven society cults have formed where the elves physically bind with their illithes, becoming strange abominations with aggressive mental powers.

Gnomes

You ever wonder what happens when a society reaches the Singularity? Look no further. Seen as ecclectic by other races, this is a side effect from the mixing of personalities caused by the networked neural implants, allowing for near instant sharing of knowledge among the populous.

Half-Elves

None existent outside of strange and unethical genetic research

Half-Orcs

None existent outside of strange and unethical genetic research

Halflings 

See Humans. "Halfling" is just an insult for decedents of the first off world colonists, who tended to be smaller in stature, due to space restrictions.

Humans 

Ah, my sweet humans. Still the Jack-of-all-trades type. Have science, faster than light travel, AI, robots, all the usual human space stuff. Heavy on the cyberpunk aesthetics, but in space. Cybernetic implants and biochemical mixing are both found within the populous. Some (un)lucky few are born with the ability to harness magic. 

Teleporters are a thing, but philosophers have determined they lead to the Death of Self - where the original is killed from being torn apart, and a copy with a new consciousness is constructed on the other side. This is backed up by magic users losing their abilities after being teleported. So, now they're mostly used for equipment transporting.  

Humans are currently trying to find ways to combine science and magic. It hasn't been easy or successful. There are thems that call themselves "Techo-sorcerers", but really they're just jackasses with nanobot implants programmed to mimic lesser magical abilities. 

Planets and Systems of Note

Chthon

The Dwarven homeworld. A craggy, rocky world with very little surface water. Very little life is found on the surface due to constant impacts from space debris, of which the system is littered with (enough to haze the light from the nearby star). From this combination, life developed underground, within the planet's countless caverns. Also, sometimes Lunar Dragons are a problem.

Necrosol

A system with a dying red sun, who's fifth planet is lousy with the undead. Vampire lords rest eternal, awaiting new food sources, as their zombie minions toil away, up-keeping the castles and properties. What does a zombie do all day? I don't know. Go to the planet and look. Then, realize you're the only source of fresh blood on the planet, and enjoy the attention of vampires.

Terra

Earth! But slightly different. Probably. Home and capitol planet for the Human systems, which are in a feudal empire composed of houses, as it seems to be the only somewhat successful way to organize and administrate large collection of humans. Located in Sol system, if you were wondering

Rivenvale 

The ringed Elven homeworld. Thick green forests, with cities that incorporate the trees and plants naturally. Vast orange oceans, teaming with rich tentacled and finned life. The occasional magic storm. Habitable moons. Cancerous asteroids. The system is teaming with shoals of space squid.

Gnomus Prime 

Gnome homeworld. Once a lush habitable planet, it has been reduced to an irradiated nuclear wasteland, with the populous living in an habitation platform around it. The cause of the apocaplyse is unknown, and the gnomes refuse to answer any questions about it, or allow people down to the planet, but they also see fit to re-nuke the planet every once in a while.

Guns and Shields

Given the nature of guns/lasers and their inherent touch attackness, some fiddlin' would have to be done on this part. As it is fairly hard to actually dodge a bullet, attacks are made against dexterity (or however the system figures touch attack AC) modified by personal deflector shields. Think a combination of what you've got in Borderlands and a Holtzman shield. Actual armor, on the other hand, instead of providing "to hit" protection, serves as a form of damage reduction. 

Shields have two primary stats: Deflection rating and Charge. Deflection rating is what it adds to the defense value. Charge is how many times, number of attacks wise, it can provide the deflection rating before needing a new battery. An armor condition, if you're using one of those systems. 

Some more special shields can probably be given adjectives, and special abilities derived from those. For example, "Grounded" probably provides free protection from electrical attacks. "Asbestic" would probably give protection from fire attacks. When in doubt, loot the Borderlands wiki. 

Classes

A brief invisioning:

Fighters - pretty much the same, just with sci-fi gear
Ragers - like Barbarians, but their rage ability comes from cocktails of combat drugs. 
TechoSorcerers - use nanobot injections to simulate magic effects 
Sorcerers - basically the same, though elf only.
Wizards - basically the same, but human only.
Hackers - from ship systems to building security to laser gun firmware; if there's code, they'll bend it to their will

Clerics, rogue sorts, and the others are fairly the same, like the fighter, just with high tech gear. 

Secrets

Because I'll forget them otherwise. 

The gnomes are nuking their homeworld in order to stop a Cyber horror horde (like a clockwork horror, but cybernetic) from becoming too strong. The cyber queen nests safely deep within the planet, however.

Tuskrok, the orc home world, is covered in buried dwarven ruins. The dwarves genetically altered some of their lower caste criminals thousands of years ago to use as shocktroops. They, however, got out of hand and took over the planet they were created on. - Which means the cruel creature god the orcs worship is the scientist that first created them, but with tusks.

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Magic of the North


A bit ago I made a spell/item list based on Sumerian mes. It seemed well received. Or at least my two readers and the horde of Russian spam bots that come here didn't complain. One even requested that I make one based on the Havamal.

As that sort of deal has been my focus the last seven years in Legends, I took to it eagerly. What follows is a spell list based on a paraphrased version of Benjamin Thorpe's translation of the Runatal section of the Havamal. Really the only thing I took out was a list of names. I've also tried to keep it system neutral, but occasionally I had to dip into specifics. Shouldn't be too hard to venture into another system of your choosing.

Edit: This site can't deal with a table format to save its, or mine, life. The source material will be in italics below, followed by related fluff and mechanics in bold immediately after. Let's hope it handles font coloring better.

Edit 2: Nope.

I know that I hung,
on a wind-rocked tree,
nine whole nights,
with a spear wounded,
and to Odin offered,
myself to myself;
on that tree,
of which no one knows
from what root it springs.

Bread no one gave me,
nor a horn of drink,
downward I peered,
to runes applied myself,
wailing learnt them,
then fell down thence.

Then I began to bear fruit,
and to know many things,
to grow and well thrive:
word by word
I sought out words,
fact by fact
I sought out facts.

The only method to learn the charms is a rather dangerous one. To reach the proper mental state in which the charms can be learned, one must be on the verge of death. 

Hunger crazed, throat burning; the Seeker gains a vision of the void between worlds as they teeter on the brink of life and death. 

Should their mind be open, and their will strong even now, knowledge of the charms will forever be burned in their mind. 

Runes thou wilt find,
and explained characters,
very large characters,
very potent characters,
which the great speaker depicted,
and the high powers formed,
and the powers’ prince graved:

The charms are not single runes, rather certain combinations of runes strung together, and given power through voice and will. “Rune songs” are not an inaccurate description. Accurate, some would say. 

Knowest thou how to grave them?
knowest thou how to expound them?
knowest thou how to depict them?
knowest thou how to prove them?
knowest thou how to pray?
knowest thou how to offer?
knowest thou how to send?
knowest thou how to consume?

‘Tis better not to pray
than too much offer;
a gift ever looks to a return.
‘Tis better not to send
than too much consume.
So Thund graved
before the origin of men,
where he ascended,
to whence he afterwards came.

Those that sing the charms should know their lore, as knowledge is important to the caster, and a measure of their strength. Intelligence or similar attribute is used in casting. 

Though take heed. Casting too much, too often, has its own dangers, and can lead to harm.

Those songs I know
which the king’s wife knows not
nor son of man.
Help the first is called,
for that will help thee
against strifes and cares.

Provides help in passing a skill check. 

For the second I know,
what the sons of men require,
who will as leeches live.

Sung over a wounded patient this charm causes their injuries heal as though a significant time has passed. 

For the third I know,
if I have great need
to restrain my foes,
the weapons’ edge I deaden:
of my adversaries
nor arms nor wiles harm aught.

When sung in battle, this charm dulls the edges and weakens the wood of any weapon that the singer’s voice touches. The charm reduces the weapon’s dice value by one category (d8 becomes d6, d6 becomes d4, d4 becomes cleaved) 

For the forth I know,
if men place
bonds on my limbs,
I so sing
that I can walk;
the fetter starts from my feet,
and the manacle from my hands.

Should the singer be tied up, this charm unties the knots. Should they be chained, the chains slide off as if too big. 

For the fifth I know,
I see a shot from a hostile hand,
a shaft flying amid the host,
so swift it cannot fly
that I cannot arrest it,
if only I get sight of it.

Sung at the beginning of a fight, the charm allows the singer to attempt to snatch arrows or other missile weapons out of the air for the duration of the fight. This being impossible otherwise, of course. 

For the sixth I know,
if one wounds me
with a green tree’s roots;
also if a man
declares hatred to me,
harm shall consume them sooner than me.

A song of counterspelling. The number of dice used to to empower this song counteracts the dice of the other spell. "Green tree's roots" is poetic wording for "spells." Not fluff, actual thing. 

For the seventh I know,
if a lofty house I see
blaze o’er its inmates,
so furiously it shall not burn
that I cannot save it.
That song I can sing.

This song diminishes all flames within the area of effect by dice applied. 1 die = camp fire; 3 dice = house fire; 5 dice = forest fire. Adjust as seems appropriate.  

For the eighth I know,
what to all is
useful to learn:
where hatred grows
among the sons of men –
that I can quickly assuage.

While this charm is sung, the singer knows who seeks to do them harm, and their location.

For the ninth I know,
if I stand in need
my bark on the water to save,
I can the wind
on the waves allay,
and the sea lull.

When sung on a boat, this song calms the seas, driving away any storm. On land the sea calming obviously doesn’t work, but it could probably clear the skies of any storm. 

For the tenth I know,
if I see troll-wives
sporting in air,
I can so operate
that they will forsake
their own forms,
and their own minds.

When in the presence of spirits, be they nature or dead, this song pains their ears, driving them off. Similar to the "turn undead" ability in that one series of popular pen and page games. 

For the eleventh I know,
if I have to lead
my ancient friends to battle,
under their shields I sing,
and with power they go
safe to the fight,
safe from the fight;
safe on every side they go.

The song dons mystical armor upon the singer and his allies (worth about a leather's measure; or based on the dice used), for the length of one battle. 

For the twelfth I know,
if on a tree I see
a corpse swinging from a halter,
I can so grave
and in runes depict,
that the man shall walk,
and with me converse.

A two parter. First the runes are carved upon the forehead of a corpse, then the rune song is sung. The corpse then gains the ability to speak as it had in life; prone to the same temperament and truthiness. 

For the thirteenth I know,
if on a young man
I sprinkle water,
he shall not fall,
though he into battle come:
that man shall not sink before swords.

Target of the singer gains immunity to iron until the end of the next combat.

For the fourteenth I know,
if in the society of men
I have to enumerate the gods,
Æsir and Alfar,
I know the distinctions of all.
This few unskilled can do.

Should the singer seek knowledge, they have but to sing this rune charm. As the words echo in distance, a vision comes upon the singer in relation to his inquiry. 

For the fifteenth I know
what the dwarf Thiodreyrir sang
before Delling’s doors.
Strength he sang to the Æsir,
and to the Alfar prosperity,
wisdom to Hroptatýr.

Bestows aid in passing an attribute test. Strength, wisdom, whatever you're using. 

For the sixteenth I know,
if a modest maiden’s favour and affection
I desire to possess,
the soul I change
of the white-armed damsel,
and wholly turn her mind.

The listener to this song becomes enchanted with the singer. “Charmed”, some would say. “In love”, others would describe it.

For the seventeenth I know,
that that young maiden will
reluctantly avoid me.
These songs, Loddfafnir!
thou wilt long have lacked;
yet it may be good if thou understandest them,
profitable if thou learnest them.

Where the 16th bestowed love, the 17th reverses this, bestowing loathing upon the listener.

For the eighteenth I know
that which I never teach
to maid or wife of man,
(all is better
what one only knows.
This is the closing of the songs)
save her alone
who clasps me in her arms,
or is my sister.

A song of oath making. Any oath sworn to and agreed upon in this song may not be broken, least doom fall upon the breaker. "Clasps me in her arms" and "my sister" refers to a woman he trusts. Don't get weird with it. Or do, I ain't the cops. 

Now are sung the
High-one’s songs,
in the High-one’s hall,
to the sons of men all-useful,
but useless to the Jötun’s sons.

Hail to him who has sung them!
Hail to him who knows them!
May he profit who has learnt them!
Hail to hose who have listened to them!

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Magic of the Ancients


I've recently engaged in a fireside chat with +Josh over at Rise Up, Comus where we yelled in agreement at each other while gesturing wildly, and generally annoying delighting those around us. Booze was involved. Our lament was just the gods awful handling of magic items in Pathfinder. Buying some magic boots? Congrats, you've just ruined the economy of the small town of earning-three-copper-per-day peasants. That magic item merchant is now probably richer than the local lord.

You monster.

Either way, that led to this article, which put our thinkering better than my rambling ever could. The point of it is magic items should be rare. What got me out of his wordsmithing is the idea of a limited number of spells in existence. This leads to the further exclusiveness of wizardry.

I like that.

It also reminded me of the Sumerian me (pronounced [mɛ]). Me were spells handed down by Sumerian gods in ancient history mythology, deemed necessary for humanity and civilization; some good, some bad, all necessary. The thing about them though, was that, while spells, they also had a physical form, and there were a set number of them. At some point Inanna takes several from a drunk Enki, and shows them off to the people of her city.

Anyway, I made a spell list and a pseudo class out of them. Fluff and details follow.


Exactly nine hundred spells (nine copies each) were handed down from the gods to aid in the crafting of civilization. Once given to humanity, the gods retreated, allowing humanity to rise and fall as it saw fit, under it's own will.

While some are obviously more useful than others, the gods felt them important for the preservation of society - both the good and bad aspects. They, in their unknowable wisdom, saw the destruction of cities just as important as a strong leader to hold the cities together. It was for the humans to decide.

With such a limited number of spells given to the Ens - thems who cast the spells - the society that inevitably grew around them has to budget their resources heavily. Each new member to the society must be thoroughly groomed and, due to the nature of the mes, can only can enter into the society once a former member dies. Further causing trouble, is the fact that a large portion of the spells have been lost through out the ages. Of the original 100, only 64 (listed below) remain with at least one copy still intact.

You see, in order to even cast a me, you must first have the me of enship cast upon you. This casting rewrites your mind and makes you immune to mes, thus allowing you to handle and speak the spells without being altered by them yourself.

Yes, the mes are both physical AND spoken. Appearing as small tablets, covered in the script of the ancients, mes take physical form until read and known by the En, at which point the me absorbs (for lack of a better word) into the caster and awaits casting. Once spoken, the words will slowly begin to reform back into a small clay tablet. Save for the Mes of Enship. Once cast upon the target, they bound with them, and are only reclaimable upon the target's death, or the mes replacement by a higher one.

You can tell an En by the marks the mes leave upon them while within them.

The spells work not by affecting reality, but by affecting the mind of the target and, as such, resisting them is fairly difficult.

The complete list of  surviving mes follows. Their names are often poetical, and sometimes become lost in translation from the ancient tongue.

Mes of Enship

Enship - Once cast upon a target, it allows them the ability to learn and cast mes.
Ishib (a priestly office) - Advances target to second level of Enship
Lumah (a priestly office) - Advances target to third level of Enship
Guda (a priestly office) - Advances target to forth level of Enship
"Divine lady" (a priestly office) - Advances target to fifth level of Enship

Mes of Craft

Art of metalworking - The knowledge of alloy creation becomes known
Scribeship - Bestows literacy
Craft of the smith - Bestows knowledge of smithing
Craft of the leatherworker - Bestows knowledge of leatherworking
Craft of the builder - Bestows knowledge of Architecture and Engineering
Craft of the basket weaver - Bestoys knowledge of basketry and pottery
Art - The target is flooded with inspiration in crafting art
Music - As art, but with music
Lilis (a musical instrument) - Proficiency of lilis is gained
Ub (a musical instrument) - Proficiency of ub is gained
Mesi (a musical instrument) - Proficiency of mesi is gained
Ala (a musical instrument) - Proficiency of ala is gained
Guslim (a musical instrument) - Proficiency of guslim is gained
Lamentation - The artist is filled with sadness, and is unable to produce any work

Mes of Altering Tongue

Truth - Restricts the target to only speaking the Truth
Law - Target is filled with absolute knowledge of the Law. However, it becomes all they can speak.
Falsehood - Bounds the target to speak only in falsities.

Mes of the Heart

Heroship - Bestows upon the target a feeling of bravery and desire to do right
Fear - Fills a target with foreboding sense of fear
Terror - As fear, but for a crowd of targets
Peace - Fills the target with a sense of calmness.
Strife - As Peace but, you know, the opposite.
Weariness - Drains the same amount of energy from a target as a hard days march.
Straightforwardness - Banishes confusion from the mind of the target.
Enmity - Fills the target full of enmity for a stated thing.
Rejoicing of the heart - Fills the listener with
The troubled heart - Sends the listener into crippling sorrow

Mes of Person Change

Kurgarra - Removes the sex of the target.
Girbadara - Renders the target infertile.
Sexual intercourse - Returns natural functions to the target.
Prostitution - Makes the target more inclined to act against their morals when coin is involved.
Holy purification - Burns poisons and diseases from target, as well as rids of any demonic influence.
Attention - Causes target to automatically succeed on all perception based checks.
Libel - Turns the listener to be in conflict with written information about them. Can cause serious problems.

Mes of Governing

The exalted and enduring crown - Marks the target as an authority figure. Their authority is known to all who look upon them.
The throne of kingship - Those in power are known to be prone to corruption. This me reminds them of the responsibilities they bear, making them resistant to corruption.
The exalted sceptre - Fills the listener with the word of the gods, preparing them for service as clerics.
The royal insignia - Bestows the royal insignia upon the skin of the target, signifying them as a vassal of the royal family.
The exalted shrine - Sends the listener into a manic religious fervor.
Shepherdship - Bestows command over animals to the target
Kingship - Bestows command over men to the target
Lasting ladyship - Turns those of ill repute against their ways, reforming their nature.

Mes of Divine

"hierodule of heaven" - Allows the target to host a possession by the gods.
Eldership - Gifts the target with a life time of wisdom and experience. May cause mental side effects due to memories not their own.
Descent into the nether world - Allows the target to enter the land of the dead, to see and experience that which is beyond the veil. This trip is purely mental, though the body will move and react to what the mind is seeing.
Ascent from the nether world - Draws the target back to the world of the living.
Judgment - A mark of the target's crimes grows upon their skin
Decision - Gives the target a vision of the consquences of their possible decision
Counsel - Induces a vision in the target where they hold counsel with spirits, who provide wise advise.
Godship - Drains the corporal properties from a person for a stretch of time. Context of the name suggests "spirit hood"
The cult chamber - Has a chance of granting a vision based audience with a god. Not always a sure thing.
Sagursag (a eunuch, entertainers related to the cult of Inanna) - Bestows the target with knowledge of the holy myths, as well as the acting ability needed to portray them.

Mes of War

The battle-standard - The target glows bright with holy power, encouraging allies who fight within proximity to them.
The flood - The target errupts in a fountain of their own blood, those near them are burned as though by acid. While the flood is known to destroy, it is also known to replenish the fields. The ground covered in this blood becomes extremely fertile.
Weapons - Grants knowledge of weapon usage
The destruction of cities - Fills those who hear it with a desire to turn away from their lives, and go else where. Farmers leave their fields. Wives leave their families. Neighbors turn cruel to one another. Blood betrays blood. The effect spreads like wildfire via contact, effecting any who claim membership to the town in which the me was spoken.
Power - Increases the physical abilities of the target.
Victory - Bestows the hearer with unusual luck in their tasks.
Wisdom - The target gains strategic insight to the current situation.


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Sins of the Flesh

Recently, I've been reading Altered Carbon, by Richard K. Morgan. It's an okay read. There's parts of the world I like, there's parts of the world I don't like. Ya see, in it they've figured out a way to digitize the human mind. Folks walk around with a chunk of computer embedded into their brainpan, backing up their mind as they go about their day. This has, naturally, lead to several advancements: Travel between worlds is easier, casual travel across the globe is much easier, and murder victims can be used to testify against their would be murders. Life doesn't have to be bound to a mere eighty some years.

On the other side, it's also used as a form of punishment. Thems that are found guilty of a crime have their mind placed on storage for a few decades or so, and then released into a new society. This seems weird to me, as the transfer from one body to the next, despite the intervening years, is experienced instantaneously. There's no exact penalty there. Sure, you've a new body to get use to, but you've learned nothing. One minute you're being gunned down by cops for robbing a bank, the next it's three hundred odd years later and you're being decanted out of a skin vat. Why not try again?

This gets even stranger to me as they also have the ability to keep the mind active, via software, and able to experience months in a manner of minutes. So why not keep the meat on ice a few days, while the mind serves a sentence? Give them actual time to reflect, perhaps come to regret their crime. Then, pop them back in the same body and send them on their reformed way. No fuss, no confusion of identity.

Either way, once over the initial existential dread of the though, my old boiler got a bubbling.

A notion is floating around my thick skull to jamble up and run a game, one where the physical stats don't matter all as much, as you can just rent up the body you need for the occasion. Bioware, cyberware. All the favorites. Really focus on the player characters as minds inhabiting interchangeable bodies.

Though, undoubtedly, this generates some immediate obstacles to over come. What consequences can be offered when death, in itself, is meaningless? Legal actions, perchance. What incentives to motivate the small bindle of murder hobos I take as players. Easy: cold hard cash. Still, some more thinkering is needed before anything solid.

I'll probably call it something pretentious like "Sins of the Flesh" and run it through a Shadowrun mod for Fate. Maybe I'll use it as an excuse to finally read the Cypher system. Either way, I'll probably add in a little flavor from the Hardwire series. I'll almost certainly force it upon the monthly gaming group.
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Echoes of the North

I have stood on those niflon shores. I have stood in their silence - the silence of the Dead - and added my own, with only the whispering of the wind and crashing of the frozen waves daring to break it. It was there on those shores that I set your mother adrift, my child, as I have for my mother and father, and, hopefully, one day you shall for me. Wrapped in otter furs, I sent her to swim with the dead. And dead the sea truly is, for it bears the Cold, void of Heat. 

I have stood on those shores, and watched as barbed tentacles coiled around your mother cold, dragging her body under. I stood, and I smiled, for the gods had accepted her. 




Far to the North, past the lands of Berserker Kings, in the shadows of ruined towers once held by Ice Wizards, several barbarian tribes make the frozen wastes their homes. Life there is harsh and, more often than not, miserable. The ground is too hard for crops, the temperature too harsh to support them. Trees are rare. Most flora is moss, heath and lichen. Fauna must insulate themselves in thick furs or blubber. Those that live, anyway.

Culture amongst the tribes is fairly similar to one another, having been forged out of necessity for survival, and pivot around two spiritual points:
  • That which is Cold, is Dead
  • That which is Warm, is Alive
Unlike the beliefs held in the southern lands, that attempt to claim mystical beings and explanations, these beliefs are observable. Animals and people produce heat until felled, then they grow cold. This produces several implications:

The Sea Is Death
When one falls into the sea, submerged within the frozen waters, they too will die, least you dry them and encourage heat to return. Those that dwell within it, unless they bear the protection of fur, are dead. Fish, when drawn from the waters, are icy cold and therefore are dead. Otters, seals and the like have fur, and bear Warmth. Though the Cold will overwhelm them eventually.

The Gods are Dead
Lurking in the frozen waters are horrible things. Tentacled things. Things that once vomited forth the ambergris they carved humanity from. Things that now send their servants into the fishing nets, providing food. Things that whisper forgotten, dark secrets to witches in their dreams. Things that watch over the dead, sent back to the sea. Things cold. Things dead. Things that are gods.

Fire is Alive
How can it not be? Fire grows, fire moves, fire consumes, fire reproduces. Fire is warm. When fire grows cold, it dies. Just as all living things do. Families within the tribes keep fire, not just out of necessity, but as a pets, much how the southern folk keep hounds. When travelers go about, they carry with them a lantern lit from the hearth fire of home; a faithful travelling companion and helpful assistant on the road.

It Might Seem Like It, But Cooking is Not Necromancy
In order for life to continue, it must consume other life. This is why we hunt the animals of the land. The fish of the sea too we hunt, for we can briefly impose life upon it through the cooking arts. This life is a true one, however, it will soon fade should it now be consumed in time. Our methods defer from the lichcalling of the Old Kings, for their works bore no Warmth, and were but mockeries.

Notice that last line, did you?

The tribesmen hold a deep seated, ingrained hatred for most things magical - Sorcerers especially, given their nature. And for good reason. Their oral tradition (literacy is too close to magic) tells of a time when the Old Kings - the Ice Wizards - held sway over the land, and tormented the people in their cruel grasp. Some were forced to work, some experimented upon, some were made to fight as amusement. All were enslaved. The people toiled and the people died, however Death was not the release it is meant to be. The Old Kings, with their dark magics, invited the Cold into the bodies of the fallen, filled them with a false life and sent them forth once more, often to oppress and subjugate their former loved ones. These bodies knew not Warmth.

And so the people suffered for uncounted generations, until one man, Matthias the Flame, backed by three witches, took up arms and struck back against the Kings. The support of these witches, and the fact they speak to the Gods, as well as hold the oral traditions themselves, may explain why witches are uneasily accepted within the tribes. Well, tolerated. On the edges of settlements. It may also explain why witches are honored with wood, a rare and much needed necessity, enough so as to built their strange "chicken legged" huts.

A Northern Witches Hut

The barbarians themselves, though, are semi-nomadic. In the Months of Long Light (summer to you and me), they live in large, transportable tents, clad in hides and furs, following the herds of deer. In the Months of Dwindling Light, they return to their cities of half buried earthen long houses, and take to fishing as the herds fatten on the grasses left to wild. In the Months of Long Night, the herds are brought into the long houses, to share their warmth and milks.

Most barbarian equipment is made of bone and leather. Time honored traditions teach how to hone a bone to a fine edge, just as sharp as any metal blade found in the southernlands. An alchemical oil mixture, made by the witches, can be applied via soaking or rubbing to strengthen the bone to be just as hard. Though through far wandering and trading, metal equipment is not unheard of.  

So, why not leave these awful lands and head to the South, where the very land itself is alive? Simple, that land isn't theirs. The ancestors overthrew the Old Kings, and claimed the as their own. They then passed it down to the current generation. To abandon it would be to devalue the suffering of the ancestors.

Some of the modern youth, however, do take to exploring down in the Southernlands.


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