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--
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--
-- Nicolas Casalini "DarkGod"
-- darkgod@te4.org
--------------------------------------------------------------------------
-- Temple of Creation
--------------------------------------------------------------------------
newLore{
id = "temple-creation-note-1",
category = "temple of creation",
name = _t"tract of destruction",
lore = _t[[#{bold}#Tract of Destruction#{normal}#
Though armies would fall before the Spellblaze's might, though forests were razed and the skies bled red with fire, they always felt that the earth would endure. It seemed eternal, unmoving. Not even the fury of the Spellblaze could hope to destroy it.
How wrong they were. The Nalorën people, long secluded, were prepared to fend off any attacks on their land, but how could they hope to stop the land itself crumbling? Seeing their home literally tearing itself apart, plains and forests tumbling into the seas... For one brief, terrible moment, they beheld the true extent of the Spellblaze's power. Not only was it destroying the people of the world, but the world itself.
}
newLore{
id = "temple-creation-note-2",
category = "temple of creation",
name = _t"tract of anarchy",
lore = _t[[#{bold}#Tract of Anarchy#{normal}#
For the years following the cataclysm, chaos reigned. Their culture, their way of life, it was as broken and fractured as the land itself. Nalorë civilisation was reduced to a few isolated and feeble settlements, scratching out meagre existences as land, mind and body was warped in both shape and spirit.
Faced with the idea of their great race failing – another victim of the Spellblaze, a footnote in the annals of history – impassioned pleas were sent to their elven brothers: The Shalorën, the Thalorën. Aid was even requested from human and halfling, embroiled in their own petty squabbles as they were.
The Nalorën received no answer.]],
}
newLore{
id = "temple-creation-note-3",
category = "temple of creation",
name = _t"tract of acceptance",
lore = _t[[#{bold}#Tract of Acceptance#{normal}#
Betrayed by the Shalorën, wilful and destructive, and the Thalorën, aloof and suspicious, a long, seething silence fell over the remaining Nalorën people. It was during this period of grim introspection that salvation was suddenly and unexpectedly granted. The ancient Sher'Tul magicks, long pondered over by the land's mystics, would bear fruit at last.
The same force that destroyed the Nalorën would save them. Through the Sher'Tul's magic, the Nalorën became able to breathe water as if it was air. Their bodies became adapted for existence under the waves, their legs becoming long, snake-like tails. Such drastic metamorphosis would naturally cause horror, you may expect. However, the Nalorën saw the possibilities their new forms provided: Their sunken lands were their own once again. Their homes would be rebuilt, their civilisation reborn. Nalorën no more, the denizens of the sunken kingdom would come to be known as 'nagas'...]],
}
newLore{
id = "temple-creation-note-4",
category = "temple of creation",
name = _t"personal note (Slasul)",
lore = _t[[At long last, the temple finally reveals its secrets to me, and my plans can be set in motion. Lithe in form, faultless in combat, unmatched in speed both above the waves and beneath... nature couldn't have hoped to create such a race as nagas. With the Temple of Creation now open to me however, we may become so much more. With my guidance, my careful shaping of the Sher'Tul's magicks, under my expert hand our great race shall soon reach its zenith. A new tract shall soon be written: The Tract of the Devourer.
--------------------------------------------------------------
-- Correspondances
--------------------------------------------------------------
newLore{
id = "adventurer-letter-1",
category = "adventures",
I hope this letter finds you well. I must apologise for this recent dry spell in our communication; my adventures across Maj'Eyal have taken many exciting and perilous turns as of late. What turns do I speak of, you ask? I know how you delight in reading the accounts of my exploits, so I shall waste no further time on this pre-amble.
Imagine, if you will, a wolf. Imagine a beastly wolf, a wolf with strength, ferocity and a lust for flesh matching that of an entire pack of its lesser kind. You too may have some small experience with these "wargs" as the locals are wont to call them. Now... imagine one the size of a bear. Truly, as I travelled the lands surrounding Derth did I come across such a monstrous, awe-inspiring, lupine adversary. With fangs of a length to match my own blade, I entered combat against this lupine lord and its skulking brood. To my regret I failed in slaying the beast, but I assure you - simply surviving against such feral rage is an honour worthy of recognition and renown.
And indeed, would there have been much glory in killing such a creature? True, I would have had enough to fur to line each and every boot and hat in Derth, but legends must live on. They are what give this world its very spirit!
With eager anticipation for your reply,
Weisman]]}
newLore{
id = "adventurer-letter-2",
category = "adventures",
Ah! What feelings your last letters inspired within me... primarily mirth, with a good amount of scorn! Must you continuously assail me with tale after tale of your waving of wooden swords and pestering of toothless mongrels? Allow me to recount your "legends" in a much more succinct manner: One day, I failed to kill a dog. Such bravery! Such pluck and derring-do!
Your petty escapades are made ever more insignificant by the trials I myself have recently overcome. Mere days ago I was trekking through the Old Forest (that's outside Derth, Weisman! Terror must already grip you!) when, by unfortunate happenstance, I came across a most hideous, bloated, oozing and chittering horror! No less than the giant ants' repulsive progenitor! Such hordes of frenzied chitinous young it had at its command, it was as though the ground itself was swarming forward to devour me!
And yet I live. Weisman, I sincerely hope that my letter has revealed to you your folly. Only when you have faced true danger can you call yourself an adventurer. Bore me with your tales no longer.
Rolf]]}
newLore{
id = "adventurer-letter-3",
category = "adventures",
name = _t"letter to Rolf (2)",
lore = _t[[Dear Rolf the Antslayer,
Ha! Such trials you have overcome! Forget dragons and demons, here we have a hero who has survived against ants! I shall deliver this joyous news to Last Hope with all haste - perhaps there shall be a parade in your honour!
I hope you registered the sarcasm in my previous words, but I obviously cannot expect much from one who struggles with insects. Allow me to share with you knowledge of a beast rather more fitting for a true adventurer to behold. My travels had taken me south, and as I walked one night along an abandoned mountain pass, imagining what treasures and trials the next day may bring, a brilliant light filled my vision! I stood in its radiance, the land around me illuminated so that it almost appeared to be in broad daylight, and that was when I saw it.
Such a magnificent sight! With wings of fire, leaving the air itself hissing and smouldering in its wake, I could only watch with rapt amazement as it alighted on a rocky outcrop mere yards away from me, the stone beneath its talons warping from its tremendous heat. It was at that moment, Rolf, that I realised that this was what being an adventurer was about - there is always more in this world of ours to amaze and astonish us.
Learn from my experiences,
Weisman]]}
newLore{
id = "adventurer-letter-4",
category = "adventures",
Sorry to cut your birdwatching session short, but I must bring this badinage to an end. I have tolerated your ridiculous pomposity and false heroics long enough. At first, I took your over-inflated tales of bothering local wildlife with good humour but now I realise, with dread, that you are sincere; you believe your pathetic wanderings to be the stuff of legend.
Well, no more. We shall meet seven days from now in Derth's town square. Come prepared for travel. The number of rumours claiming that a monster has taken up residence within the ruins just north of town have grown to the point where they cannot be considered rumours anymore. You shall come with me, face this creature alongside me, and experience intimately the vast difference between your skills and my own. If we're lucky, you will learn this lesson unscathed, but I fear that such a trial may cost you a limb or two.
Prepare yourself, if you've the courage,
Rolf]]}
newLore{
id = "adventurer-letter-5",
category = "adventures",
The tentacles. I still remember them. They have lashed into my mind as they lashed into my flesh. How can nature abide such a... a... being in her realm? What dark plane of existence could it have been born from? How can creation itself tolerate such an aberration?!
How did we survive? I have no clue. All I can remember is pain, and panic, and fear. All I could think of was getting away, fleeing... to my shame, all other thoughts left me. Thoughts of you, home, the world... all I could do was keep hacking away at the... things between myself and freedom. Perhaps that is why it didn't... no. I shall not think on it. The beast is certain to fill my nightmares tonight, I won't allow it to fill my waking thoughts.
Rest easy, brother. It may have taken your eye, but think of what else it could have taken. Anyway, I shall be leaving for the tavern soon. Maybe I can drown the images of that monster in a sea of ale.
Make sure you write the words on your next letter nice and big,
Rolf]]}
newLore{
id = "adventurer-letter-6",
category = "adventures",
I can't remember anything from the fight save the sheer terror at being near something so horrid and powerful. There is no shame in running from a foe you cannot possibly hope to defeat, is there? Maybe ale from the tavern is a good idea, but maybe it is better to conquer your fear once and for all... I hope you can forgive me, but I must defeat this monster, if it takes me the rest of my life.
Wishing you and your ale a hearty good-bye,
Weisman.]]}
newLore{
id = "adventurer-letter-7",
category = "adventures",
By my ancestors' profits I hope you receive this message in good health and spirits. Please, old friend - there is no need to impress upon me your valour, I know full well how courageous you are. Please, do not go after that... that thing! If I must drag you away physically, that is what I shall do, but I beg of you, please, consider another foe to fight!
Your friend,
Rolf.]]}
newLore{
id = "adventurer-letter-8",
category = "adventures",
bloodstains = 6,
I have failed. Oh by the great wyrm's maw, I have failed! The beast Weisman set out to slay was dead already by another's hand, but its corruption remained still. When I arrived in its chamber, Weisman was already half-gone; he was hacking away at foes only he could see. When I tried to stop him, he turned his axe on me... I am beaten and broken, hiding in some crevasse away from... from my own friend, who through the corruption in this place has been perverted into a monstrosity my axes were unable to fell. I hold no doubt that this is the last time I shall put quill to parchment, as even now I can hear my old friend's perverted voice.. calling to me. I bequeathe my belongings to any who slay ...
#{italic}#(the ink blotch seems to indicate Weisman had caught up to his old friend, one-half of that abomination)#{normal}#]]}
--------------------------------------------------------------
-- Myths of creations
--------------------------------------------------------------
newLore{
id = "creation-elf",
category = "myths of creation",
name = _t"memories of Artelia Firstborn",
lore = _t[[#{italic}#This scroll looks ancient, possibly going back millennia, but has been incredibly well-preserved.#{normal}#
I remember when I first woke, and I drew my first breath, and the fresh young air of the world filled me with vitality. I opened my eyes, and above me stood a figure of outstanding radiance. She was tall and slim, crowned in silver hair that fell to the ground in silken tresses. Her skin was pale to the point of luminance, and her eyes were brighter than the stars.
I watched her for what felt like a century, and she watched me, and I saw tears form in her eyes. I did not have a voice yet, but I thought, "Why does she look so sad?" And I felt then her reply in my thoughts, "For you are beautiful, and far more beautiful than all else in the world. But this is a world of pain and sorrow, and I cannot bear to think of my creation come to harm. I will give you strength to endure many years, and a voice to express all desires, but the burden of sadness will follow you forever. At that thought I weep..."
I felt then strength come into my limbs, and a voice rise in my throat. I rose to the ground and I looked around, and in awe of the world around me and the stars above me I sang loudly for joy. And the woman smiled as she heard my voice, and her tears stopped, so I continued to sing for a while to entertain her. But then I said, "Am I alone?" She nodded, and said, "There are no others like you." At this I felt sad, and she could see the loneliness in my heart. She seemed to hesitate a moment, and said, "Though it pains me, I cannot deny your desires. You will sleep now, and when you awaken you will be among people like yourself, and you will walk out into this broken world and try to mend it."
As she finished speaking I instantly fell into a trance, and when I awoke I saw the world had changed, and there was now a blazing light in the sky - it was the new-born Sun. And I saw all around dozens more people like me, and others similar in appearance but varying in traits and abilities. I woke them up, and gathered them together, and we all expressed delight in each other's being, and named ourselves Alor?. But the woman was gone, and no others knew anything about her, and my searches for any trace of her were in vain.
Times passed and changed, and other creatures were found, and oft they were fell and vile and we did war with them. Then we found the Sher'Tul, and they delighted in our beauty, and taught us the ways of the Arts. And then the War came, and some of us helped them in their battles, but soon we saw we had no place beside such masters, and we retreated to the woods as the War raged to its catastrophic conclusion.
In all those centuries I still searched for the woman and found no trace. I know that the gods were all hunted down, and I remember the thorough searches of the Sher'Tul in their holy war. I grow old now, and some of those who first woke with me have passed away, and each passing night seem ever colder and lonelier. But still at times when I lie asleep I see her face or I hear her voice, and I know that one day, somehow, I will see her again.]],
}
newLore{
id = "creation-human",
category = "myths of creation",
name = _t"human myth of creation",
lore = _t[[At the start of time Sun was born, and Moons, and Eyal raised from the Darkness.
And Gerlyk walked Eyal with his three brothers.
But one day Gerlyk walked alone and realised he was alone, and he desired company.
So Gerlyk took a burning coal, and put stones around it, and wrapped it in earth, and bathed it in water and breathed his breath into it, and it became alive. And Gerlyk named it Human.
Now Gerlyk brought Human back to his brothers to see.
But Gerlyk's brothers were jealous and tore Human apart. One brother grabbed the stone, and one brother grabbed the earth, and one brother grabbed the water.
Gerlyk was sad, but took the burning coal that was left and made a new Human.
Then the brother with the earth copied him, but made a short creature, and called it Halfling.
And the brother with the stone made a thick creature, and called it Dwarf.
And the brother with the water made a thin creature, and called it Elf.
But Gerlyk's brothers grew jealous of each others creatures, and they fought, and they all were killed. And Elf cried and Dwarf cried and Halfling cried to see their creators fall.
And Gerlyk was sad, and looked at Human and said, "I am sorry, but this is not a time for creators any more. I must go."
And Gerlyk walked into the Darkness.
But Human did not cry, for the coal in his heart burned hot, and he knew he was not truly alone.]],
}
newLore{
id = "creation-halfling",
category = "myths of creation",
name = _t"a logical analysis of creation, by philosopher Smythen",
lore = _t[[Many are the tales of how our world was made, from the absurd to the romantic to the horrific. But they are all mere myths, with no more than seeds of truth to even the most reliable. The history of our race goes back far, but it is tantalisingly scant in details from before we met the other races. Indeed, it is only through our battles with the others that we halflings have any ancient records at all.
The elves one would suspect of having the greatest knowledge of elder times, but they are aloof and silent. One must judge from this that either they do not know, or that the truth ashames them. The latter would certainly not surprise me.
The humans have more myths than they have brain cells. It seems that each village has several versions of their own local tales, usually passed down orally over the ages. It is clear that not a single element of any of their myths can be construed to contain any essence of the truth.
The dwarves are reticent about the subject of how they were made. They say that such talk is "not profitable". However upon further pressing (and bribing) they will open up a little further. They as a race are of the most fervent belief that they were the last people to be made in Maj'Eyal. They say they are the "final product". Their word for all other races in fact translates directly to "prototype". This mostly singular outlook does of course seem absurd, but one need only look at the rest of dwarven society to see that they are an absurd race with ridiculous ideals. If they are what they consider perfection then I thank whatever god made me that I am flawed!
The subject of gods is of course a difficult one. Clearly there are no divine forces at work in the world today. But the world as we know it did not come from nothing, and even the great Sher'Tul clearly did naught more than manipulate the world - they did not make it.
By logical conjecture one can only presume that some great being made the world. This must have been a benevolent being, for it is clear that "He" created creatures separate from himself to walk the earth. Clearly this is we halflings. We are the only race that truly appreciates the world. We do not warp it with magic experiments like the Shaloren, nor hide from it like the Thaloren. We do not bring destruction like the orcs, or petty greed like the dwarves. And our understanding and knowledge is so far advanced than the humans that it is hard to understand why we share the same world with them at all. We were quite clearly the first of the current races to be created, and our natural feelings of entitlement to all there is in Maj'Eyal must stem from this.
Now that this has been clearly analysed in logical terms, one must consider the source of the other races. It is impossible that they were made by the same god - truly impossible. What strange being could create our race, so gifted and rounded, and yet make such warped and twisted creatures as the dwarves and humans? No, clearly other gods were responsible, lesser gods than our own which copied his grand design. But with fudging fingers and inelegant touches the works of their design were clearly far inferior to the subtleties and perfection which crafted us.
However there remains the matter of the Sher'Tul. Clearly these were of greater power than us, and yet they disappeared. One must presume that our god made this race before us, but was somehow unhappy with them, and so removed them and made us instead. We are not as powerful as the Sher'Tul - not yet at least - but we have our own gifts that evidently give us a greater place in our creator's heart. This would explain why we were the first race to unlock the powers of the Sher'Tul farportals. We had a natural affinity to the works of our elder brethren.
So what happened to these gods after they had made the races which we see today? One must presume strife between them, and that they killed themselves, or took their battle away from the world. Our creator, seeing the other gods killed or left, must have then entrusted the world to us halflings, knowing that we would rule over it in his stead. This is why at every point in history we have played a pivotal role in the shaping of our world. It is our rightful inheritance, and it is our duty to rule it well.]],
}
newLore{
id = "moons-human",
category = "eyal",
name = _t"Tale of the Moonsisters",
lore = _t[[Eyal was raised from Darkness,
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And One came who made a blinding light called Sun,
But Eyal flinched and said, "It is too bright!"
So Gerlyk spun Eyal around; thus his face was half-time in light and half-time in shadow,
But in shadow Eyal became lonely and cried.
And so Gerlyk made him two younger sisters who danced around Eyal
And kept him in good spirits.
But the moonsisters became jealous of their brother's affection,
Threatening to fight and scream.
Thus Gerlyk separated them so that Eyal would only ever dance with one at a time.
In the summer Eyal dances with the moonsister Altia.
She sings songs of joy and laughter,
And brings friends and family together,
And she glows yellow with mirth.
In the winter Eyal dances with the moonsister Felia.
She tells tales of times begone,
And makes men walk alone in thought,
And she glows blue with solemness.
But in the time between,
When both sisters are slimly seen on each side of Eyal,
Glaring at each other from behind their brother's belly,
Then the world goes still, and the winds hold their breath, and the oceans lie flat.
For this is the Time of Balance, when the Darkness rises deepest, and all life is in peril.
Aye, and Gerlyk did say, "Let no man walk abroad this night, lest Darkness catch him and take him forever."
Aye, and Gerlyk did walk abroad that night, into Darkness beyond, and has ne'er since been seen.]],
}
--------------------------------------------------------------------------
-- Ancient Elven Ruins
--------------------------------------------------------------------------
newLore{
id = "ancient-elven-ruins-note-1",
category = "ancient elven ruins",
name = _t"ancient papyrus scroll",
lore = _t[[Death is nearing. I can feel her chilling breath down the back of my neck. So many of us firstborn have passed on already. I cannot allow it... I will not let myself rot into dirt like the others. I am the mightiest of the Shaloren - I have a right to life!
]],
}
newLore{
id = "ancient-elven-ruins-note-2",
category = "ancient elven ruins",
name = _t"ancient papyrus scroll",
lore = _t[[Death mocks my experiments. I can preserve the flesh of my servants, tightly wrapped and salted, treated with the correct chemicals. I can animate them, make them shuffle about the empty halls of my mausoleum. But they are but empty shells, devoid of any soul. Is this how my majesty is to end? I demand a greater fate...
My days are numbered. Each night that passes saps strength from me. I must find the way to preserve my soul within my flesh. My greatness cannot be allowed to fade.]],
}
newLore{
id = "ancient-elven-ruins-note-3",
category = "ancient elven ruins",
name = _t"ancient papyrus scroll",
lore = _t[[Death has met her match. My results are complete, and I am ready to step to the Beyond. I have my sword by my side, and its icy edge will freeze even the dark one in her tracks. My powers cannot be denied...
Come, Death, try to lay your bony fingers on me! I will vanish before your very eyes and slice you apart! You and your agents are no threat to me. I am immortal!]],
}
dg
committed
--------------------------------------------------------------
-- Valley of the Moon
--------------------------------------------------------------
newLore{
id = "valley-moon-1",
category = "valley of the moon",
name = _t"Rassir's journal part 1",
lore = _t[[I have come to see the moonstone again. My younger brother Limmir understands a little of my obsession with it, yet the others do not care. I have tried to explain how it is of importance to Aeryn, but she simply asked if she could make a sword from it. Bah! Such stupidity from that grunt fighter.
Our ancestors found their powers from the intense study of the stars, yet the people these days seem only to care about their applications in battle. I know our position with the orcs is grim, but we must not forget our roots in the celestial sphere! Only by sun, moons and stars do we find knowledge and power in life.
Ah well, I shall at least be able to study here in peace. The ring of invisibility I have crafted affords me cover from any orc patrols, and the caves around the moonstone are quiet enough. I have set up my telescope in the open air of the Valley of the Moon itself.
Last night I spotted a red star in the early dawn. How very peculiar... Could this be a new celestial body to study?]],
}
newLore{
id = "valley-moon-2",
category = "valley of the moon",
name = _t"Rassir's journal part 2",
lore = _t[[Oh, what terrible horrors! Demons, clawed creatures, dark smog, clouds of acid, skins of lava! Where did they all come from?!
It was when I was studying the moonstone, and as the red star was rising again before the dawn. The stone glowed blood-red and suddenly portals awakened in the rock of the valley. From them poured forth all manner of demonic creatures! I put my ring of invisibility on and fled into the caves. But now the creatures are everywhere! The caves are infested with them, prowling about like hungry animals.
And there is something... something terrible. In the shadows, in the darkness, I can sense it looking for me. It stalks me, an invisible hunter after invisible prey. Now and then I hear the cracking of a terrible whip. I must stay hidden...]],
}
newLore{
id = "valley-moon-3",
category = "valley of the moon",
name = _t"Rassir's journal part 3",
lore = _t[[I fell asleep in a dark hollow, but my sleep was troubled by terrible dreams. The dreams are so vivid in my mind!
I saw the red star, and it became a land of fire floating in the night sky, full of black creatures with yellow eyes and hungry red mouths. And beyond the red star, far beyond was a dim world, but fractured and split all about its surface. As the world spun the split continents crushed against each other, and lava spilled up, and lands sunk into the ground. Demonic mouths screamed up as they disappeared into fiery death. It was if the world was tearing itself apart, but some force of will was desperately trying to keep it held together.
And I saw then in the centre of the world, as it spun and crumpled and crunched, a vast figure with a horned head and outstretched limbs and shining white eyes. It held tight to the innards of the world, holding it together against forces threatening to pull the whole planet apart. The giant face contorted and screamed in pain and fury.
“Urh'Rok,” a deep voice spoke within my head. “Our god, our saviour, holder of our world. In the name of Urh'Rok we seek vengeance against Amakthel and the Sher'Tul. The petty world of Eyal shall fall!” And then I woke up, and I felt sure something was nearby, looking for me. I fled instantly.
Am I going mad? The name “Urh'Rok” still rebounds through my skull and my vision is dimmed. Perhaps I have been wearing this ring too long...
Yes, yes, this is all clearly an illusion! A strange nightmare that I shall wake up from. I shall take the ring off, and go visit the lovely moonstone again. Once I see the stars all shall be well...]],
}
dg
committed
--------------------------------------------------------------
-- Race analysis
--------------------------------------------------------------
newLore{
id = "races-0",
category = "races",
name = _t"Loremaster Greynot's Analysis of the Races - Introduction",
lore = _t[[I set out here to give a full and complete analysis of all the intelligent races in Maj'Eyal. This is an ambitious project to say the least, but it is put together from a great many years labour, including travels across all the kingdoms and direct meetings with many of the highest rulers and most learned sages. I have drawn my findings from common knowledge, exclusive interviews, and studies of many thousands of pages of texts and histories, some going back dozens of centuries.
dg
committed
I myself am a Higher human, in the employ of the court of King Tolak the Fair, but I have done my best to write all accounts from a purely neutral standpoint. I leave it to my peers to judge my success.
Index:
Chapter 1 - Humans
Chapter 2 - Halflings
Chapter 3 - Dwarves
Chapter 4 - Shaloren
Chapter 5 - Thaloren
Chapter 6 - Naloren (extinct)
Chapter 7 - Ogres
Chapter 8 - Orcs (extinct)
Chapter 9 - Sher'Tul (extinct)
Chapter 10 - Monstrous Races
Chapter 11 - Dragons
dg
committed
]]}
newLore{
id = "races-1",
category = "races",
name = _t"Loremaster Greynot's Analysis of the Races - Chapter 1 - Humans",
lore = _t[[I begin my writings with a study of the humans, currently the most populous of the races in Maj'Eyal. The greatest kingdom in number are by far the Cornacs, but mention should also be made of the Sholtar and Mardrop kingdoms, and the Higher bloodline. The biggest human population centre is around the citadel of Last Hope, though many other settlements exist across all corners of Maj'Eyal.
dg
committed
Cornacs are normally around 5'9", with generally dark hair, brown eyes and ruddy features. Most Cornacs take up roles as tradesmen, farmers, or other manual labour jobs. It is a sad fact that the majority of bandit groups tend to be dominated by Cornacs. Cornac families tend to be large, and since the Age of Dusk their population has expanded rapidly, especially in the farming lands in the west and around Last Hope in the south.
Sholtar are generally 5'11", with dark skin, hair and eyes. They originate from the south-east of Maj'Eyal, and are few in number since the Cataclysm tore much of their land into the sea. Their affinity with nature is renowned, and they are often found employed as healers, infusion crafters or wyrmic huntsmen.
Mardrop humans are all but extinct, after the Spellhunt and the plagues during the Age of Dusk. They were known to be powerful spellcasters, and as such were prime targets by the spellhunters. However some trace of them can still be found, as their fiery hair and freckled skin oft can appear in those of distant descent. A few are rumoured to still possess citadels and towers in remote locations.
Highers are on average 6'0", with fair hair and skin and blue or grey eyes. The majority of scholarly roles are taken up by Highers, and they tend to fill most of the noble classes. Some say this is due to discrimination and elitism, though these may simply be jealous sentiments. There are also rumours that the superior intellects of Highers are due to arcane experiments instigated by the ancient Conclave during the Age of Allure, but I have found no records to support this idea and must consider it to be baseless. The Higher bloodline is renowned as a mark of excellence, and mixing with lower bloods is strongly frowned upon.
All human kingdoms were united by King Toknor the Brave in the Age of Pyre, and remain under the rule of his son King Tolak the Fair. A full discussion of the long human history would require a far more detailed document.]]}
newLore{
id = "races-2",
category = "races",
name = _t"Loremaster Greynot's Analysis of the Races - Chapter 2 - Halflings",
lore = _t[[There are two main kingdoms of halflings, the Eldoral and the Nargol, though both mix often. All halflings are just under 4' tall, and are generally noted for their large feet and curly hair. Eldoral are usually fair-haired and blue-eyed. Nargol tend to be darker in hair and complexion, with hazel eyes, and oft slightly shorter than their cousins. Halflings are known for their intelligence and quick wit, but also their arrogance in dealing with other races - something they do not deny, for they say it is well-deserved.
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Halflings used to be the most dominant race in Maj'Eyal, with control of many strategic Sher'Tul ruins and rule over great swathes of land. The recorded wars between humans and halflings are numerous, and the halflings were the most often victors. However the Age of Pyre brought them great ruin, for the orcs seemed to target them more fiercely than any other race, and many of their communities were wiped out. This has forced them to rely more on trade with other races in modern times, especially with the humans.
The Eldorals used to have a kingdom in the north of the continent, but most of it was destroyed during the wars with the orcs, and not much has been rebuilt. However they do still have many agricultural settlements such as Derth, albeit shared with other races. The Eldoral are known for their great healers and farmers, and their slingers are considered the best in all the lands.
The Nargols once had many strong fortifications in the south of Maj'Eyal, but though they suffered less than the Eldoral in the Age of Pyre they still lost great numbers, and much of their centres of population dwindled. The rise of Last Hope has accelerated this process, as many communities are subsumed into the city's suburbs. Nargols are known as great jewellers, alchemists and rune-crafters, and possess some of the best tactical minds of all the races. Many generals and military advisers are employed from their kingdom.
The most famous of all halflings is Queen Mirvenia, most famed for her saving of King Toknor in Last Hope from a siege of orcs. Mystery still surrounds how she managed to bypass the winter's icy floes with her army to reach the citadel in time to rescue Toknor. Some have hypothesised that she enlisted the aid of sorcerers, but none of her troops would talk about the journey afterwards. She wed King Toknor in the second year of the Age of Ascendancy, and gave birth to the first known mixed race child - Tolak the Fair.
]]}
newLore{
id = "races-3",
category = "races",
name = _t"Loremaster Greynot's Analysis of the Races - Chapter 3 - Dwarves",
lore = _t[[The dwarves are an exceptionally secretive and quiet race, reluctant to talk about themselves to outsiders unless hefty bribes are paid. Many times in their history they have cut off all contact with the other races for no known reason, shutting tight the great iron doors that cover the trade passages to their mines and their cavernous cities. However of late they have become more open with the outside world, and I have even had the pleasure of receiving the unique distinction of being allowed to enter their main city, the Iron Throne, and speaking with several of their guild leaders.
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Dwarves are around 5' tall, with generally brown or grey hair. They are usually stocky and muscular, and known to be very resistant to any physical suffering. Their females can be hard to distinguish from their males, but can usually be identified by the beads braided into their beards. All dwarves are highly proud of their beards, and take immaculate care of them. The greatest insult to a dwarf is to belittle his beard, and the greatest sign of suffering in a dwarf is for him to tear at his beard.
Dwarves are known especially for their smithwork and artificing, which is unrivalled amongst all the other races. They also make cunning merchants, known to drive a hard bargain. Their society consists of a fairly strict caste system, with families belonging to guilds of miners, smelters, craftsmen, and so on, and deviance into work outside of one's guild of birth is almost unheard of. However there is no perceived inequality between guilds, with each having equal representation on their ruling Committee of Guilds. Who actually acts as figurehead is unknown to outsiders though, and no amount of bribing will encourage any dwarf to speak on the subject. When it is mentioned in passing their allusions to a leader are normally marked by an almost religious reverence.
Their skill with metal is renowned above all else. Dwarven steel is considered the most durable material for use in construction, and dwarves are the finest workers with stralite and voratun, precious metals of immense value. They trade heavily in their crafts from their capital the Iron Throne, but allow no outsiders in - instead they send innumerable merchant caravans out to all the cities to ply their wares.
As well as the many merchant dwarves one may meet there are also a great deal of young dwarves who venture beyond their halls of stone. These are generally of adventuring fare, and it is encouraged in dwarven society to experience something of the wider world in one's younger years. This is known to them as being "smithed upon the anvil of the world". In private though some senior dwarves admit that this activity is promoted to help with their "market research strategy".]]}
newLore{
id = "races-4",
category = "races",
name = _t"Loremaster Greynot's Analysis of the Races - Chapter 4 - Shaloren",
lore = _t[[Though the elven races look very similar in appearance, they are extremely distinct in history, culture, mindset and many subtle physical traits, so I shall write of each of them separately. All elves are marked by their long, pointed ears and high cheek-bones, but other features can vary greatly. It should be noted that they call themselves as a whole "Elore", which means "siblings", yet the interactions between these brothers and sisters are oft strained.
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Shaloren (or Shalore - lit "siblings of grace") are on average 6'2", with bright hair and blue or purple eyes. They are usually slim and lightly built, more marked for their mental prowess than their physical strengths. They are however known to be extremely swift of movement and light of foot. But of particular note is their magical affinity, which is far stronger than any other race, and their intense powers of will.
The Shaloren have a long history of magic-use which continues to this day. Though other races shun the dangers of magic to a large degree, the Shaloren embrace it, and it is still widely used throughout their society. However they are careful to hide this in their dealings with other races. The Shaloren were the ones that began the Spellblaze, though they would soon have it forgotten, and the memories of blame run deep amongst many. During the Spellhunt in the Age of Dusk they locked their city doors and shrouded the whole region in mist, only coming out in secrecy. It took many centuries before they were accepted again in wider society, and still they are treated with intense distrust.
Their capital city is Elvala, in the south-west peninsula, and they have very few settlements outside of this. They have naturally long lives, and their mastery of the arcane arts has allowed them to extend their lives indefinitely. The eldest immortals make up their Council of Elders, which is headed by their King Aranion Gayaeil. Death is a particular fascination amongst the Shaloren, and early kings of their race were said to build great tombs for themselves whilst experimenting in flesh preservation and necromancy. The Shaloren of course deny this.
They deal with other races seldom, preferring to keep a low profile, and most of their trade is done through halfling intermediaries. A few rune-crafters and enchanters sometimes travel to other major cities to do business, and some brash youths are known to explore further afield.]]}
newLore{
id = "races-5",
category = "races",
name = _t"Loremaster Greynot's Analysis of the Races - Chapter 5 - Thaloren",
lore = _t[[The Thaloren (or Thalore - lit "siblings of wrath") are on average 6'4", with dark brown hair and hazel or green eyes. They are generally of muscular build, and known for their physical prowess. They are renowned to be of a fey mindset - as quick to furious violence as they are to joyous song. Their relations with the Shaloren are particularly strained, as they strongly oppose their brethren's use of magic.
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Their capital city is Shatur, hidden deep within the northern woods, and they are loathe to let any outsiders even approach the surrounding forest. Archers and fighters carefully patrol their borders, ready to rain down death from the trees on any who encroach. Their leader is Queen Nessilla Tantaelen, and they are said to live in extensive dwellings carved into giant trees, but little else is known about their society.
Those who choose to leave the fastness of the forest tend to be of unique disposition with unusual attitudes and traits. Oft they are musicians, bowmasters or skilled warriors. However they are sometimes mistrusted heavily, as rumour has it that many of those who leave Shatur are actually criminals expelled for the very worst crimes. In any case they tend to be natural loners who wander the world on their own personal quests.
The Thaloren do business very rarely with the outside world, but when they do it is normally for metals and certain foodstuffs that they cannot get themselves. Usually in trade they sell woodcraft and fine silks. This is the only legal source of elven-wood, a rare commodity that is often sought after for fletchwork. Black market sources rely on poachers to cut trees from the Shatur forest - an immensely risky business, but also very profitable for the high prices paid by Shaloren mages for an elven-wood staff.]]}
newLore{
id = "races-6",
category = "races",
name = _t"Loremaster Greynot's Analysis of the Races - Chapter 6 - Naloren (extinct)",
lore = _t[[The Naloren (or Nalore - lit "siblings of spirit") are now an extinct race, as their homeland was swept into the sea by the Cataclysm. However as a separate elf race they are worth studying, scant though the records be. Much of what is now said about the Naloren is traced with myth, but one can deduce certain facts.
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Naloren elves were around 5'10", with blonde hair and green eyes. They were incredibly thin, but known for their swift and dextrous capabilities. Their kingdom was located on the eastern side of Maj'Eyal, and all of their towns were on the sea or straddling major rivers. They employed themselves as fishermen, sponge-divers, sailors and musicians. They were renowned for being able to stay underwater for hours at a time, and those with arcane abilities were said to be able to stay submerged indefinitely.
They traded little with the other races, and were very protective of their coastal lands. They most especially guarded jealously an ancient Sher'Tul ruin that lay in the centre of their territories. The Shaloren were in particular keen to study this relic, but the Naloren always refused them access, though they were too afraid to touch it themselves. The orcs were said to encroach on their lands often, but were always fought back by their mail-clad warriors wielding vicious tridents.
Alas their love of the sea was to be their undoing. When the Cataclysm came the whole of the coastal kingdom was shorn away and fell into the sea, annihilating almost the entire race. What small numbers survived committed suicide soon after by leaping from the eastern cliffs into the ocean, following their fallen brothers and sisters. Almost no evidence of their civilisation remains.]]}
newLore{
id = "races-ogre",
category = "races",
name = _t"Loremaster Greynot's Analysis of the Races - Chapter 7 - Ogres",
lore = _t[[Ogres have never been a thriving race, starting from their abrupt appearance as soldiers and laborers for the Conclave during the Allure Wars (unexplained aside from a highly implausible story from the Conclave's Overseers about a lost mountain tribe). Left without homes or proper runic training after the war's end, they were forced to found their own tribes and rediscover the fields of rune and infusion creation for themselves, and though their numbers dropped rapidly, they enjoyed a brief period of relative success as nomadic rune-traders, virtually unaffected by the Spellblaze. The Spellhunt nearly proved to be their undoing, as their monstrous size and rune-covered skin made them popular targets; they were thought to be extinct, and only in recent years has the city of Elvala revealed that some Ogres took refuge there during this time. Their descendants still live today, fearful of persecution but gradually beginning to explore outside Elvala for the first time in ages.
Ogres' most striking feature is their size, by far the largest of any intelligent race; they average at roughly 8'4" tall, and most are nearly half as wide with muscle. They have a similar range of skin tones to humans, although slightly grayer on the whole; their hair tends to be dark brown or black, and their eyes run the gamut from black to bright blue to purple, presumably a side-effect of runic mis-transcription. Their angular facial features invite some impolite comparisons to Orcs, with strong jawlines, disproportionately large mouths and teeth, and squarish heads, but otherwise resemble those of humans. It would be remiss of me to describe Ogres' appearance without mentioning the intricate, glowing pattern of runes covering their skin from head to toe, although the exact patterns and colors vary.
Although they excel at physical tasks for obvious reasons, and the necessity of careful inscription has made their finger dexterity (and penmanship) rather impressive, their limb movements tend to be slow and clumsy due to their size, and they tire quickly if they over-exert themselves during strenuous labor. Their slow speech, incredible appetites, and lack of interest in arts or most scholarly concerns has led to a misconception that they are dim-witted; however, Ogres forced into studious tasks have performed admirably, and one needs only look at their runic patterns to know the patient study and artistic vision they are capable of, if properly motivated. This may tie into the humble, duty-bound mindset that seems to be an inherent property of the species - most Ogres show absolutely no interest in leadership or impressing others, only completing tasks in the most reliable manner possible, and such strategies tend to be rather simple.
While Shalore use of magic is (arguably) a choice, Ogres have no such luxury. Their inscriptions are as crucial to their well-being and structural integrity as any internal organ, and attempts by Ziguranth to "cleanse" captured Ogres of their runes invariably lead to them first collapsing under their own weight, then their organs shutting down one by one; one can assume that their natural infusions are just as vital. As such, Ogre reproduction is a careful task; a newborn can live for a few months unaltered, but after this the parents must give their child a thorough regimen of runic inscription and herbal infusions. The parents typically perform this task together, using each others' runes as a reference, and any mistakes made in the transcription will affect the child's health and development (usually adversely, though it is believed that transcription errors are responsible for mitigating Ogres' once-uncontrollable tempers). As such, the inscribed patterns are as much of an influence on the child's development as the physical and mental traits of his or her parents.
Due to the safety and comfort of Elvala, and their mistrust of much of the outside world, most Ogres who leave their home do so for trade purposes; no longer using Shaloren as couriers, some have begun to enter the growing market of runes and infusions, and have proven very successful thanks to their natural talent in this area. Those few who could be considered "adventurers" tend to pack up their things and leave abruptly, not for glory or riches, but because they see a recurring source of misery in the world and wish to dispose of it themselves as a public service. It is not uncommon for an Ogre to sigh in frustration after hearing about a hijacked shipment of grain, head out, return a few days later with the blood of a once-persistent bandit clan stuck to his club, and go right back to tending his crops.]]}
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newLore{
id = "races-7",
category = "races",
name = _t"Loremaster Greynot's Analysis of the Races - Chapter 8 - Orcs (extinct)",
lore = _t[[The orcs are, joyfully, extinct from Maj'Eyal, following the purge instigated by King Toknor the Brave at the start of the Age of Ascendancy. But an academic study of their previous culture and civilisation is still of interest, primitive though it may have been.
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Orcs were generally around 6'1", with green or black skin. They varied greatly in physical appearance and build, most likely due to their exceptionally fast breeding rates. The majority of orcs were thick-built and heavily muscled, well remembered as the stock grunts of their terrible armies. However in the Age of Pyre a greater number of thinner, stringier orcs appeared, oft versed in destructive magics.
The orcs were first encountered by the Eldoral halflings, who tried to use the simple creatures as servants, but gave up after finding them to be too violent. In the many centuries since wars and battles have been almost continuously fought with the brutes. Their oft superior numbers have at times threatened to overwhelm all of civilisation, even leading to such drastic defensive measures as the Spellblaze. The most terrifying time though was during the Age of Pyre, when the orcs developed arcane abilities, and under the leadership of Garkul the Devourer they swept through the continent, mercilessly slaying all before them. In the end 10,000 halflings gave up their lives in the Battle of Nargol to defeat their demonic leader and stem their army's advance. Gradually the civilised races began to recover, and finally King Toknor and Queen Mirvenia succeeded in uniting the human and halfling kingdoms, putting together a force to push back the orcs and ultimately extinguishing them entirely.
Recent investigations of orcish ruins have revealed a surprising amount of cultural material, and even crude artworks based around fertility and battle. Some evidence has also been found of strong community elements to their culture, with much focus on sporting activities and racial pride events. However these are still clearly lacking in the subtleties and aesthetics of our more advanced cultures, and any attempt to compare them with us must be overshadowed by their brutality, territorial violence, and obsession with war.
There have been no substantiated reports of orcs for over 100 years. What reported sightings there are tend to be from such unreliable sources as adventurers and hermits, and have never been verified. We should be thankful that these horrible creatures have been banished to the annals of history, surviving only as stories to be told to misbehaving children.]]}
newLore{
id = "races-8",
category = "races",
name = _t"Loremaster Greynot's Analysis of the Races - Chapter 9 - Sher'Tul (extinct)",
lore = _t[[Ah, the legendary Sher'Tul! How any scholar does love to write about them. Indeed, the texts are many, but the facts are few, as so little is known about this crucible race. The most learned and factual academic on the subject is the renowned explorer and archaeologist Darwood Oakton, but he has alas been missing for several months at the time of writing. I will attempt to summarise here some of his key discoveries.
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The Sher'Tul lived over ten thousand years ago, during what is referred to as the Age of Haze. The name of the race we know from the elves, who speak of the ancient beings with awe and reverence, yet know little else about them. Ruins of fantastical Sher'Tul structures have been found all across Maj'Eyal, and some have been observed in sunken lands off the coasts, implying that in their time the Sher'Tul must have ruled unopposed all across the world.
The farportals were first discovered by the halflings during the Age of Allure, and after much experimentation they were found to be able to transport items and creatures over vast distances. The arcane powers behind these incredible artifacts are still far beyond the understanding of the greatest minds of our time. The one attempt to truly tap into these powers ended in disaster - the Shaloren moved all known farportals to a remote spot near their capital, and their most powerful mages were overwhelmed as they unleashed the Spellblaze, killing them instantly and tearing apart the continent. What remains of farportals are left in the world have since been left untouched.
Of their physical appearance we know almost nothing, as there is no surviving artwork or records which depict themselves. However they must have been of similar form to other common races, as their ruins contain stairs, doorways and rooms not unfit for humans. Oakton estimates from his studies of their tools and artifacts that they would have stood around 5'4" tall, with uncommonly long limbs and fingers.
What caused them to become extinct is unknown, though many theories abound. The most popular in academic circles at the moment is that their mighty magics were their undoing, turned upon their own people during some great civil strife. Other theories hold weight though - Archiman Garybald, Professor of Demonic Studies, believes that the extensive uses of arcane energies by the Sher'Tul may have attracted twisted forces from other worlds which wiped out the ancient race. Some even believe that they are not truly extinct, but are in hiding, or have left this world for elsewhere. I fear the truth may never be fully known, but the ongoing study and examination of the relics they have left behind continues to provide immense value and inspiration.]]}
newLore{
id = "races-9",
category = "races",
name = _t"Loremaster Greynot's Analysis of the Races - Chapter 10 - Monstrous Races",
lore = _t[[No text would be complete without at least a brief note of some of the more brutish races which infest our world. These do not hold any civilised society of note, nor in general do they seem capable of any form of higher thought or culture, but they are still of interest to study for any who take delight in analysing beings of more primitive intellect.
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Trolls come in two main types - Kezrak and Moltep, or stone and forest trolls as they are colloquially known. Stone trolls infest many mountain chains to the north-east, and some have been known to wander further afield in search of food or to spread violence. They are generally over 8' high, with extremely pronounced muscular strength and a thick, solid hide which bears the appearance of coal or granite. Forest trolls are generally found in dense woods or swamps, with the Trollmire east of Derth being especially infamous. They have a more advanced form of speech than their mountain-dwelling cousins, and are known to move faster and wield more elaborate weapons, though their greenish hide is not as thick and their musculature less developed. All trolls have intensely fast metabolisms, capable of healing from grievous wounds within a matter of hours. At birth they measure just eight inches long, but within two years grow to full maturity, and rarely live beyond ten years old. They used to be considered little more than beasts, but towards the end of the Age of Pyre many were trained as fighters by the orcs, and were even taught the basics of language and certain battle tactics, making them much more dangerous. Though the orcs are gone their servants remain, and their remote breeding areas and intense birth rates have so far scampered attempts to eradicate them completely.
Giants live mostly around the mountainous peaks surrounding the Daikara Pass. They vary greatly in size, but are normally at least 10' tall. They look somewhat like large, deformed humans, with swollen or distended facial features and much longer, swinging limbs. They live in nomadic tribes, moving from peak to peak with the seasons, feeding on wild deer and goats. They are usually peaceful creatures, only turning violent when their territory is encroached or their young are threatened. There are sometimes reports of giants coming to lowlands and stealing farm animals or attacking communities, but these are rare and normally isolated to particularly harsh winters. Giants seem to have no developed culture or language worth mentioning, but have been noted to show interactions of limited intelligence and to commune well in groups.
Nagas were once believed to be mere myth, but reliable reports and even the capturing of dead physical samples has shown them to be real creatures. The upper half of their body is humanoid in form, with blonde hair and an extremely thin build, but the lower half is like that of a giant snake's tail. They stand around 6' tall on land, though their tails extend several feet further. They have been encountered off the eastern and south-eastern coasts of Maj'Eyal, which seems to indicate some exotic civilisation beneath the waves. Records of them exist only from the last few hundred years, and only more recently have they been interpreted as more than just the wild fantasies of inebriated sailors. They can breathe in air and underwater, possessing both lungs and gills, and have been reported to move with surprising speed on the ground. One might think them simply odd monsters, but they decorate themselves in jewellry and craft weapons and armour from materials found on the sea-bed, such as supple mail formed from layers of thick shark-hide. This would suggest an advanced culture, but communication with them so far has proved impossible. It is not known if they are capable of complex speech, but to date their only response to those who encounter them has been extreme violence, and fishermen in the east are always wary of coming across these vicious creatures.
The origin of Demons is not wholly known, but it is clear that they are capable of intelligence and so I feel the need to describe them somewhat here. It is known that they can be summoned by certain magical rites, and minor demons were oft in the employ of evil sorcerers during the Age of Dusk. The main theory, which is supported by certain studies by Shaloren archmages, seems to indicate that they come from another world than our own, with connections formed through intense arcane energies. It must be a truly terrifying place to host such foul denizens. Demons vary immensely in appearance and power, as much as the creatures of our own world vary. They generally have blueish blood and metallic flesh and skin, which can oft react oddly with our atmosphere - some become wreathed in flames, others release hideous acids or belching clouds of darkness. All seem versed in magical abilities to some degree, and the strongest of them possess truly terrifying powers. Luckily they are exceptionally rare, and seem to be much less common in modern times since magic has fallen out of use.]]}
newLore{
id = "races-10",
category = "races",
name = _t"Loremaster Greynot's Analysis of the Races - Chapter 11 - Dragons",
lore = _t[[The common man may scoff at the idea of classifying dragons as an intelligent race, but experienced wyrmics know otherwise. Dragons are incredibly long-lived creatures, with some known to survive for thousands of years. Though in their early life they are of a bestial nature, as they advance through the centuries they gain an ever keener and more developed intellect. The eldest of wyrms are sometimes considered the most subtle and intelligent of creatures in Maj'Eyal, capable of telepathic communication and advanced mental abilities, and wyrmics speak of them with the highest reverence.
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Dragons come in many shapes and sizes, normally growing from 5' long hatchlings to 20' long mature drakes, with some of the greatest wyrms growing to over 40' in length. They are generally winged, with large lizard-like maws and sharp talons on both their fore and hind legs. They are often noted for the lustrous colour of their scales, normally representing an attunement to one of the key Elements of Eyal. This attunement is unseen in any other race, and some philosophers believe that dragons predate all other races, being formed as raw representations of the elements of nature at the beginning of the world. However this theory may be borne purely from the fanatical delusions of certain wyrmics who have studied the creatures for too long.
All corners of Maj'Eyal show some trace of different types of dragons. The Daikara Pass and surrounding mountain chains are home to a great number of ice and storm dragons. Numerous sand and red dragons can be found in the western desert and hills, and many have been the reports of gigantic sea dragons in the deepest oceans, especially to the south.
Attacks from dragons on humans and halfling settlements are fairly rare, but when they occur they can be truly devastating. Usually they are to feed on livestock, but now and then come attacks from newly matured drakes, seeking out precious metals and gemstones to build up a hoard. Dragon hoards have become a thing of legend, with the greatest wyrms rumoured to protect literal mountains of gold, but in modern times truly sizeable hoards are rare. The dwarves farmed hoarding dragons almost to extinction in the Age of Allure, and most dragons these days retain only modest treasures in their lairs.
Dragons are regularly hunted for their thick scales and their elementally imbued bones. Dragonskin leather is prized amongst armour-workers, as when properly treated it is both light and tough, and oft retains some inkling of the original wyrm's power. Dragon-bone is highly favoured by staff-crafters for its natural attunement to elemental forces, and is sometimes used by fletchers in the crafting of the most delicate yet resilient bows and arrows. However the hunting of dragons for their skin and bones is greatly opposed by many wyrmics, and there is an increasing market for "naturally harvested" drake materials - those taken from dragons which have died of natural causes. Still, demand for all dragon materials is strong with exceptionally high prices paid, and many are the greedy souls that lose their lives each year at the fangs and claws of these magnificent creatures.]]}
--------------------------------------------------------------
-- Misc
--------------------------------------------------------------
newLore{
id = "thaloren-lament",
category = "shatur",
name = _t"Lament for Lands now Lost", always_pop = true,
lore = _t[[You see a moss covered statue of a Thalore reciting a poem, over and over.
#{italic}#"Where bright and berried yews did stand,
Where the eldest oaks grew so grand,
Where singing birds once flew to land,
All is dust, all is dead.
Once flowers rose to reach the sky,
Once blossoms fell from beech on high,
Once thrush and owl did screech and cry,
Now all lost, now all fled.
Oaths from Shaloren mages sworn,
Yet spells of fiery rages born,
Our lands of bygone ages torn,
Gone is trust, wrath is red.#{normal}#
newLore{
id = "eden-guile",
category = "artifacts",
Your time is ending soon
Running man, running man
Will not save sun nor moons
Running man, running man
Survival growing slim
Running man, running man
You know your fate is grim
Running man, running man
Now's the time to choose
Running man, running man
Your honour or your shoes!]] }
newLore{
id = "channelers-set",
category = "artifacts",
name = _t"Gifts of Nature",
lore = _t[[In Age of Allure rose an archmage high
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With power beyond compare
And the people poor would not come nigh
His dark and terrible lair
Whilst crops fell dead in drought and blight
And children grew diseased
The wizard dread stole in the night
To pillage what he pleased
But a hero came with shining sword
And a will of solid steel
Not seeking fame or high reward
He followed but his zeal
"From Zigur I come on righteous quest
To battle foes arcane
I will not succumb to magic detest
I will end this evil reign"
And so he rode on pure-white steed
To the warlock's hold
That dank abode of dark misdeed
He entered brave and bold
There battle blazed beyond all sight
Sword clashed with spell
Blood was razed in fearsome fight
Scream followed yell
A beam was cast of arcane pure
Piercing mail and shield
But still steadfast with flesh secure
The hero did not yield
A slash tore through the wizard's cloth
His hat dropped to the ground
From loose grip flew his staff so wroth
Thus fell the mage renowned
Now bare of skin and weaponless
Here lay but a man
No arcane sin could now redress
The blood that freely ran
"Fool warlock dead, you were too vain
To gifts of Nature trust
Your faith instead in tools arcane
Now to Nature you are dust"]] }
newLore{
id = "dreamscape-entry",
category = "dreamscape",
name = _t"If I Should Die Before I Wake",
lore = _t[[You wake suddenly from your unexpected slumber and attempt to quickly regain your bearings. However, you are not prepared for the bizarre vision that greets you: instead of land and sky you see only amorphous shapes and varying degrees of light. A strange psychedelic haze permeates the air and otherworldly colors and shadows flicker in and out of your peripheral vision.
As you begin to come to grips with this strange environment, you realize with horror that you cannot move! Your body feels as if it is completely without weight and try as you may you cannot budge an inch. You experience a sense of Déjà Vu as you recall past nightmares of being paralyzed. That's when it strikes you: you never woke up at all, you're still asleep! This epiphany is only reinforced when you notice a strange phenomenon: mirror copies of yourself are being slowly projected from where you stand and are moving about of their own volition.
They all seem to be focused on something in particular, but what? Just as soon as you set your mind to discerning what your dreamselves are focusing on, you feel it. With horror, you realize that you are not alone here.
Somehow, your foe has invaded your very subconcious and is attacking you in your dreams. Still unable to move, your lucid mind races on how to handle such an insane and horrible situation. On a whim you concentrate on one of your projections and you find that you can control it.
Free now to face this nightmare, you turn to find your foe. While you have a sense that having one of your dreamselves destroyed may not by itself be catastrophic, what would happen if several or many are cut down? Unwilling to find out, you resolve yourself to end this offensive intrustion into your mind.]],
}
newLore{
id = "loot-vault-empty", always_pop = true,
category = "vault",
Try to be a little faster next time.
Love, #{italic}#Eden#{normal}#]]
}
newLore{
id = "renegade-pyromancers-vault",
category = "vault",
name = _t"How to Summon a Phoenix",
lore = _t[[#{bold}#How to Summon a Phoenix#{normal}#
10 pouches faeros ash
5 vials fire wyrm saliva
3 red crystal shards
3 pouches bone giant dust
1 vial greater demon bile
1 skeleton mage skull
pinch of luminous horror dust
#{italic}#The bottom half of the scroll has been singed into a pile of char, dispersing into a cloud of ash as you grasp it#{normal}#
]]
}
newLore{
id = "nature-vs-magic",
category = "magic",
Eyal is a torn world, and the forces of nature can react strongly to the arcane energies that seek to manipulate them. Some items and areas are imbued with anti-magic, a natural energy that disrupts magical abilities and effects. There are even those who have learned to harness anti-magic into their own wild abilities, and who use them to hunt down and destroy those who practise magic. So beware, caster! It is a hostile world ye wander in.]],
}
newLore{
id = "kestin-highfin-adventuring-notes",
category = "highfin",
name = _t"On Adventuring",
lore = _t[[I must say, as time grows, I feel so do I grow more and more inclined to distance myself from the calling of an 'adventurer', like so many you can find roaming the countryside. I feel like the myth of a wandering hero has blinded too many with promise of easy fame and riches, with no eye for the other kind of fortune.
Hear me out on this.
Nowadays most don't really recognize how fascinating the world we live in truly is. It is vast, more than you can imagine. I can safely promise, any wild thought you can muster up, dear reader, will not come close to the truth. Such is the breadth of wonders, I would probably dismiss most of what I have seen as myth, be I not there myself. And even then sometimes, I had to wonder whether I could trust my eyes.
Perhaps I'm being too vague, or maybe these promises leave much to be desired. After all, adventuring is not all fun and exotics, it is before all danger and a constant threat of death, or worse. So then if you wish me to be more concrete, think of derelict, crumbling crypts, cults and demons, hungry forests full of monsters and forces beyond time and place. True, there is overwhelming awe, thrill even, but the reason that so little detail reaches you, is because so little live to tell.
What does reach us then, are not people, but objects. Artifacts of great power, legacy of the past. Surely, any drunkard might like to tell tales after a pint or two, but a magical sword is a proof of its own and it keeps quiet of what it has seen. So, a great hero is usually easy to recognize, being practically a walking history book. Clad in half the age of important events which he probably has no idea about.
It is important to remember, that every artifact has a meaning, beings of great power and importance behind them. Stories, that now slowly wane into nothing. This is why it is not artifacts that make an adventurer. It is his great deeds, the will to dare where nobody did before. It is not important if you get known in the process or not, after all, if you were truly great, maybe you will leave behind a legacy of your own.
-#{italic}#Kestin Highfin#{normal}#]]
}
newLore{
id = "galsame-orientation-notes",
category = "point zero",
name = _t"Warden-Master Galsamae's Orientation Notes",
lore = _t[[Congratulations, sir and/or madam. Whether by invitation, discovering it on your own, or simply being enough of a thorn in our side to recruit rather than dispose of, you have gained the secrets of chronomancy. The ultimate power of time - the ability to reset and try again if you fail, the ability to save time by seeing the results of investigations before they happen. Though our powers are bound to post-Spellblaze Eyal, they are those of nigh-omnipotence with enough patience.
But trust me - "enough patience" is one nasty limiting reagent. You're going to be running out of that fast when you've spent the last week trying to dismantle an Age of Dusk-era house-of-cards system of causally interdependent tyrannies without causing dwarven extinction, and a plague just broke out right when you had things almost perfect, for the sixth time--
Look. The point is, there's a reason the person who writes the invitations and the mission statements isn't someone out in the field - and you're lucky enough to be working for someone who understands that you need more flexibility than idealism allows. Our squad knows that to stay sane, we have to know when "time flows forward at a rate of one second per second" isn't the only rule we have to break. That it's generally okay to skip the trial and just deal with a temporally hazardous jackass as you see fit, if you've foreseen a guilty verdict - as long as your investigations are solid when you actually conduct them (and you do have to do the work once in a while, or you'll only be capable of seeing yourself procrastinating). And if you just need to not be watched, you should know that there are a few decades in the Age of Dusk we and a few other squads recognize as "fair game" - whatever experiments you've wondered about or horrors you want to inflict, just keep it to the time period of infinite forgotten evils and it doesn't hurt anything in the grand scheme. Trust me, we've checked - nothing in that time period matters unless you've got another Spellblaze to set off.
But most importantly, you should know: Zemekkys is even lazier than I am, but he has status to maintain. If you continually violate his will, there will come a point at which you will be informed that you have been caught and should stop resisting. Accept whatever fate he doles out for you. If you do not stop, there will come a point where he will be forced to make an example of you so severe that the entire cosmos will notice your non-existence. Obviously we can't be sure how many of us he's done this to (if any) or how it works, but we're pretty sure that the result looks like something starting with a W.
Everyone here wants the same thing - keep spacetime stable, have fun with your powers, cheat at a few lotteries - but we've got cover to maintain and, in theory, an actual job to do if something ever cracks that Sher'Tul shield or the Greigu find a way to bypass a portal-filter. Scratch backs when yours gets scratched, don't make so much noise that the system comes crashing down on your head, and you'll enjoy your stay in eternity.
Welcome to Point Zero, agent. Enclosed are timespace coordinates to what is, quite literally, the best roast-yeti restaurant that could possibly exist - I'll have the squad meet you there and then. Thank me later.
[i]-Galsamae[/i]
PS: You might encounter a... benefactor of sorts in your travels. You'll know it when you see it, ham-fistedly yanking its puppets back from the brink of death; if you see it for yourself, we regret to inform you that you've taken a one-way trip off prime Timeline-E4-RL territory for a doomed offshoot unless "he" feels like weaving you back in - and it tends to only do that to people who narrowly avert its engineered apocalypses through incredible power or luck. If you have been chosen by its schemes, play along and you might get brought back from the temporal graveyard that is the Timeline-E4-EXPADV subnetwork. We do not know what it is - a runaway creation of our own, a competing culture's weapon, or something far above ourselves - but if it has hostile intent, it has already won. So far it's been... mostly cooperative. Just make a point not to remind it that we're its competition.]]
}
newLore{
id = "shiiak-mantra",
category = "spydrë",
name = _t"Mantra of a Shiiak",
lore = _t[[Each morning I wake, happy I'm alive;
Though its curse of hunger eats at my insides,
I curse it one better by having outstayed.
Say a curse for the goblins' tortures that remained,
and a curse for the gods who stole half the world.
Say a curse for the chill that leaves magic drained,
and a curse for the star that grew dark as it swirled
But most important of all is to note,
in spite of fate's bias, only we survived.
Curse the dead all you want, but we've stayed afloat;
we're the only ones blessed with the skillset to thrive.
Our wit, strength, and teamwork outweigh cosmic powers;
they've done what they could but Spydrë is [b]ours.[/b] ]]
dg
committed
--------------------------------------------------------------
-- Misc bosses
--------------------------------------------------------------
newLore{
id = "zquikzshl",
category = "boss",
name = _t"Z'quikzshl",
lore = _t[[#{italic}#(The handwriting of this diary entry is poor at best. Whoever wrote this was in poor health.)
#{bold}#53rd Allure, Year 603 of the Age of Pyre#{normal}#
I have done it! My fool of a master said I was not ready for the rites of lichdom, that I would attract undue attention... what utter idiocy. Already I can feel the transformation taking place, and I am certain that this weakness will only be momentary. My master was foolish to leave the Grimoire of Mortality Transcended open and unattended! All I needed was a bone from a magical creature, and as luck would have it, I had found a skeletal corpse of a dragon not far from our tower. The other ingredients were trivial and in possession of my master... surely he will be astounded that I, Zilquick the Eternal, will have transcended mortality!
(Another entry is written beneath this one, in a much more elegant and controlled script.)
Zilquick the Eternal, hah! What an unbearable buffoon, and I am glad his pride was his undoing. The young fool used up the Ruby of Eldoral in creating his phylactery, however; I must acquire a new phylactery for myself. On the bright side, my incompetent apprentice did illustrate why a bone from a creature slain by my own hand is important: the dragon bone he chose had left to fester a mold infection, and the mold somehow infused itself with the bone's inherent magical properties, altering the magical composition of the spell. I do hope whoever finds this note shall kill this "lich" using the most painful means available, and shall deposit him someplace where he is sure to be found.
Oh, look. He is trying to harm me with spells, but all he can manage is a corruption of his own name: Z'quikzshl.]]
}
the Nalore held dear,
they cowered in fear.
He trampled their men
and their babes newly born,
and seeing it finished,
he summoned a storm.
So remember old Shellsea
as she was in the past,
for Ol' Walrog sent the gale
that drowned her at last.]]