[Announcement] Round Zero!

[Inem]

Wake up, wake up! Round Zero is upon us!

Iron DM 2020

This is the Round Zero thread, where all those who wish to partake in this year's competition can show what they have, and see if they can stand up to their fierce competitors and last year's victor, Unko Talok! Come, refine each other so that the best may face off, and the greatest be crowned Iron DM of 2020!

The thread will be open for 13 days (plus about 1.5 hours) from the time this is posted (exact deadline see here). Make sure you get your entry in quickly! Once you have posted, that is it: no edits, no second posts. Breaking these most simple of rules could lead to a very early (and very embarrassing) departure from the stadium.

Round Zero Rules Create and describe an interesting organization and/or their leader for an adventure. Do not include links outside; the organization/leader should exist totally within the post itself. The organization/leader should be compelling enough to be a focal point in an adventure - possibly with hooks or history - and can be fantasy, sci-fi, or whatever other setting you like! You have a hard maximum of 500 words for your description. Do not break it. This limit includes all text within the body of your post, so be careful! Do not waste words on mechanics - the focus for this Round Zero challenge is to create an interesting story or description behind the organization/leader you provide. You get one entry; second posts by anyone will result in disqualification. Do not edit your entry once posted. Secreting to me is sufficientSecreting and If your spoiler-button includes an "about", where you e.g. place the item's name, it is required that the spoiler-button be within the secretspoiler-buttoning your entry is not only highly recommended, but required! The best write-ups will move through to the actual competition.

[Astra]

The Sequestered Dragon

The Sequestered Dragon, referred to colloquially as "the Dragon" by those in the know, is a black market specializing in mundane and arcane items of unique significance. The name also refers to the elite band of treasure hunters and enforcers that operate the market, led by a gnome known as Ghrim Batul. Members of the Sequestered Dragon speak of Ghrim Batul with a mixture of reverence, awe, and fear. Employees of the Sequestered Dragon scour the multiverse for unique and valuable artifacts. These treasure hunters operate clandestinely and while they prefer not to resort to violence, they have been known to use whatever means necessary to secure the objects they desire.

The existence of the Sequestered Dragon is a closely-guarded secret, known only to smugglers, thieves, and other folk who deal in the mysterious and obscure. The market itself exists on a demiplane that "connects" to various doorways in out-of-the-way places like back alleys on a semi-regular schedule. A person hoping to gain admittance to the market must provide an item(s) of subjective value as payment for entry. The items then become property of the Dragon.

The Sequestered Dragon does not deal in currency. The only accepted form of payment is vitality: Anyone wishing to leave with an item from the market must place their hands on a clockwork orb which drains life essence from the payee and transfers it to the Sequestered Dragon's mysterious owner, Ghrim Batul. In this manner it is said Ghrim Batul has cheated death for decades, and the market is very very old, possibly ancient.

The market itself takes the form of a large, disorganized warehouse with items arranged haphazardly onto shelves or on top of boxes. Inside can be found all manner of things from mundane to extremely powerful and dangerous. There are even a few life-sized statues in the dusty back corners. Most items are unique in some way and all are valuable, whether that be actual financial value, arcane power, politically-sensitive objects or documents, or even mundane items of significant emotional value to their former owner(s).

DM Notes and Plot Hooks

Ghrim Batul keeps their identity, motivation, and goals secret, however s/he needs to be present at the orb to actually receive the years of life transferred from customers as payment, which gives the players an opportunity to confront, converse with Ghrim Batul or possibly even be recruited to work for the Sequestered Dragon.

The Dragon's hunters regularly traverse the different planes of existence in search of treasure. The players might thus be able to convince one of the existing Dragon Hunters to work as a sort of sub-contractor relationship which presents an opportunity for them to accompany the Hunter to the market and thus gain entry for the first time.

The statues are sentient beings that have been petrified by a spell.

[Wishkamon]

The Strays In Serentide, a popular island get-away for the upper class, the local law enforcement are being run ragged by a gang of thieves known as 'The Strays'. The gang are proving infuriatingly hard to catch, and what's worse? They seem to be made up entirely of children! At first glance the Strays seem to be nothing more than a feral rabble of street urchins; orphans of whores and sailors, indigenous children from nearby slums. They run around their underground home, playing and fighting like stray dogs, but become strangely efficient when out on a job. The gang make their base at an abandoned underground temple, and are using the city's ancient waterways to rob the wealthy holiday makers and their second homes. Flea is the boy king of this rabble. Despite being only 16 he commands the gang like some post-apocalyptic warlord. The other children idolize him, and when he speaks they gather round in hushed anticipation. Flea surveys his 'organisation' from a decedent chais-long, perched atop a pile of other stolen luxury goods, and he is never seen without his dog- a huge, scruffy wolfhound with whom he mysteriously shares the same piercing blue eyes. Flea commands that most of the loot is brought back to be hoarded at the temple, but there is always plenty for his followers to spend on sweets. What's more, he promises that one day they will have the run of not only the sewers, but the whole town... Twist- Flea's dog Hunter is the real brains of the operation- the last remaining servant of the ancient temple who's village was destroyed by invaders, long ago in the times of colonisation. Flea freed him from the ancient ruins and the pair formed a telepathic bond. Now Hunter wants to drive away the wealthy tourists who defile what was once his home land. The Strays have been hard to catch because the jobs have been scouted out and assisted by the towns' numerous street dogs, all of whom are under Hunter's control. 'The dog's lips peel back from it's sharp teeth, a guttural snarl rising in it's throat. All around, in the dark, you can see the glinting eyes of the children and flashes of their improvised weapons. 'Why shouldn't I?" Flea growls, his bare feet stepping in time with the wolfhounds soft, padded stride. Their eyes glow unaturaly blue. "Each year these gluttonous pigs take more and more. They destroy the forests to build excessive homes for themselves. They redirect the water for their pools, and eradicate the fauna for sport. They do not realise that they were made rich by the treasures that their ancestors stole from my temple! That their fortunes were constructed on the backs of the slaves taken from my village! They should count themselves lucky that I don't butcher them like they did to my people... now, tell me, human... Who's side are you on?''

[GodRosen]

[SECRET="Inem"][SPOILERBUTTON=Switches]"Good Morning, Father Mateo. Luke Anderson has been found not following the teachings of The Great Diakoptes. This is his third violation." Father Mateo looks to Sister Mary both of whom are dressed in long red priest robes with an incomplete circle with a line that breaks the circle at the end of their stole embroidered in with a silver thread. Father Mateo looks to Sister Mary and responds, "well he knows the rules, and so do you. We must flip his switch. Maybe he can try again in a century as a new person. What was his switch number again? AB23 was it? Also, what was the status of TG87? It should be almost a century since they were turned off, right?"

"Yes sir but I will check the book of switches just to be sure and document the changes."

"Very good Sister Mary I will meet you on the switch floor" With that said they both departed their separate ways.

After a few minutes, Sister Mary walks down a staircase holding a lit lantern into a dark room that seems to stretch on forever. In the not so far distance, she sees Fater Mateo holding a lantern. Surrounding him and the base of the stairs are panels and panels of small little metal toggle switches. Sister Mary speaks first, "Yes you were right Father Mateo. Flip switch AB23 and flip switch TG87. I have already documented their changes."

"Very good Sister Mary. I have already located switch AB23 I have placed a small candle over by it. Would you hit it for me as I am still looking for TG87?" as Father Mateo speaks he is walking further way looking at the panels full of switches searching for the right one. Sister Mary turns to her right and immediately sees the correct switch. She walks off the end of the stairs and to the right to flip the switch that has the candle right next to is. Sister Mary leans over and with a quick puff of air blows out the candle. Sister Mary puts her index finger on the switch and checks the label one more time "AB23" and clicks the switch towards her. When she does a small pebble small of light comes flying in from the distance and touches the end of the switch and then recedes into the panel disappearing from sight.

Sister Mary then carefully picks up the candle as it is still hot and strides towards Father Mateo. "Ah found it," Father Mateo said and he flips the switch away from him. When he does a small light comes forth from inside the panel and goes to the end of the switch then ascends and disappears past the ceiling. "Come on Sister Mary. We have a newborn to show the ways of Diakoptes. Let us return to the surface."

[Spoonybard]

 

The Name Lady Chartreuse’s Matchmaking Service

The Flavor It is a truth universally acknowledged that a wealthy noble in distress must be in want of a hero. Alas, in these trying times, good help can be hard to find. For every stalwart adventurer willing to earn an honest coin, there are too many scheming sycophants waiting to separate a lord from his gold. Or elope with his youngest daughter. Or both. Enter Lady Chartreuse, sweeping through the doorway in her elaborate floral print dress. Like her colorfully manicured nails, her manners are expertly polished, her demeanor bright, and her intentions sharpened to a point. “There is no longer a need to fret,” she assures her client as she pours him a cup of honey lavender tea. “My agents have scoured the lands for only the best talent. You may consider your poor lost Fluffy–” “Fluffles,” the Duke corrects her. “Yes… Fluffles, returned. I have just the Ranger in mind. He could track a hornet in a hurricane.” “As long as he’s not a halfling,” adds the Duke with a grimace. “I can’t stand the lot. If I never have to see a hairy foot again, it will be too soon.” Lady Chartreuse nods and jots down a note for her agent to pluck the hairs from his feet. As she is oft to say: every client, every demand, every time. Also, the wretched yapping beast’s name is Fluffles, and it should probably be fed. The Duke is unlikely to pay for a dead dog.

The Details Of course, the renowned Matchmaking Service offers more than simple scams, as there are only so many Dukes with dogs to steal before pretending to rescue them from a den of orcs or whatnot. Lady Chartreuse knows an illicit enterprise must have a proper front. She employs several dozen matchmakers (each with their own collection of agents) spread throughout the cities, finding heroes to match the legitimate needs of nobles willing to pay for their services. And then there’s the Other List. Very few at the Matchmaking Service are aware of the Other List, the one with clients known only by their codenames. Lord Crimson. Lady Azure. These are public figures who need something... handled. Quietly. A reputation damaged. A jewel taken. A rival removed. Lady Chartreuse is more than happy to cater to her clients’ needs, provided the price is right. After all, her large villa on the coast doesn’t pay for itself. Unfortunately, there occurs some sort of mix up. Perhaps a ledger page was swapped, or the wrong message was attached to the wrong carrier pigeon. A party of good-hearted heroes might find themselves matched with Lord Puce, who requires a dangerous artifact stolen. These heroes might then realize they did not embark on the mission they thought they signed up for, and that, just maybe, there’s more to Lady Chartreuse’s Matchmaking Service than meets the eye.

[HotsuSama]

The Onion Gang

Alternatively known as the 'Brownies' or 'Bulbs'.

The Onion Gang is an urban criminal group of limited influence, mostly confined to slums and labourer districts. The rank and file of the group are all working class and mostly uneducated, although the gang has some connections with merchants and financiers of modest means. Their main activity within their turf mostly relies on protection rackets and open availability to enforce a contact's wishes regarding a third party through force and intimidation.

The gang’s signature look includes a small brown onion strapped to the belt – during the group’s inception, onions were an uncommon commodity due to regularly poor harvests and blight, and so the accessory became a way to flaunt wealth and resourcefulness. Although onions are much more common now, the habit has endured among the Onion Gang.

The Onion Gang are on hard times. Recent pushes against opposing gangs to expand their turf have not favoured them, turning into costly struggles and feuds that have exhausted their resources and left the gang demoralised. They are weak compared to most of their rivals.

The current head of the gang, Ruth ‘Red’ Tillman, had originally been popular for bringing the organisation back from the brink of collapse after years of poor management. She is ruthless towards dissent in her ranks, and reserves a particular loathing for informants and turncoats of any kind. Under her leadership, the punishment for betraying the gang’s trust is ‘peeling’ – torture that ends in scalping (the intention is for the victim to survive the scalping – success here is inconsistent at best).

There was initially panic within the slums when the ‘peeled’ bodies of former gang members and traitorous contacts were dumped on the streets. Despite the high exposure of these killings, Tillman has kept local law enforcement from raiding known Onion Gang premises – exactly what system of bribes, blackmail and/or leverage she’s achieved to accomplish this is a system she keeps close to her chest. Part of the unofficial agreement she has with the law is that her brand of brutality begins and ends within her own gang – those who live in Onion Gang turf are to be treated cordially as long as they pay their dues and don’t make trouble.

Despite her successes, Tillman’s aggressive approach to expanding the gang has lost its sheen. Her position is under threat.

Tillman’s main rival within the gang is the enforcer with the street name ‘Dry Eyes’ – as an orphan and lifelong career criminal, he has little need for any other name. His proposal is to squeeze the current turf for all that it has in a brutal shakedown, and prepare for all-out war against the competing gangs to gain respect. It’s a violent plan that makes Tillman look demure by comparison. Tillman sees Dry Eyes’ approach as unsustainable, tantamount to poisoning their own water supply. She still has enough support to keep her leadership secure, but the pent-up frustration among the rank-and-file doesn’t favour her.

[Ysolde]

[Thaco]

The Trade Federation The Trade Federation is a descriptive, if somewhat incomplete, name for was once a loosely connected group of merchant guilds, that now controls almost all trade in the western part of the continent. The Dwarven kingdom of Tor Kharan, and the Elven Enderessad Empire, had dominated the area since beyond living memory. Living in the wide river valley between the two Nations were thousands of mostly humans and halflings, but frequent conflict between the two Nations prevented them from flourishing. It was during a period of relative peace that The Federation came into being. The calm had provided a boon to trade in the region, particularly to the town of Oakford. At the confluence of two rivers and the main road heading east from the coast through the mountains, it had long been a trade crossroads, but had never before been able to prosper. Peace brought a further benefit; both Nations were reluctant to trade with each other directly. Too many long-remembered wounds had left them unwilling to trust any arrangements with their long-term foes. But Oakford had no animosity with either Nation; there were no old wounds to be forgotten, and both Elves and Dwarves were more willing to enter into agreements with the relatively short-lived residents knowing that they would be renegotiated on what was to them a 'short-term basis'. Oakford's trade guilds saw an opportunity for growth and expansion; by facilitating trade between the Nations they created demand had never previously existed. As revenue grew, the guilds expanded their reach. Within two decades, their ships were sailing the coast from the rich northern fishing grounds to the exotic lands far to the south. They combined leadership to form a council, and guards to form an army. This allowed them to expand even further, even trading with the orcs of the Eastern Wastes and the barbarians of the far North. The Trade Federation was formed. As peace between the Nations had allowed its formation, to help keep that peace the Federation added diplomats to their numbers. But this created its own complication; if the Nations became too friendly with each other, they might forget their age-old differences and trade with each other directly. It was essential for the Federation's long-term survival that the Nations never got too comfortable. Luckily there were always territorial disputes to mediate, extremist factions to be quashed, and the ever-present orc and barbarian threats...so the Federation learned to use these factors to their advantage. Today, 200 years later, the Federation has two distinct, but complementary, missions. Its public face oversees trade among the Nations and beyond, brokering agreements to keep the peace and providing troops to defend it. Its other face, acknowledged only within high-ranking circles, employs spies and their masters, working to ensure that the political climate in the region continues to be beneficial to the Federation. It also facilitates no small amount of trade itself, quietly serving as the primary weapons merchant in the western continent.

[Auron3991]

 

The Great Pack is an association of scientists dedicated to the evolution of humanity which has slowly coalesced since people began manifesting powers in 2265. On paper they are a collection of equals, with members mostly running their own labs. However, in practice they follow a council of six members which puts forward research recommendations. The most well known member of the council is geneticist Nicholas Bauer, although the entire council's names are easily available to the public at any time. The group tends to have canines featured in the artwork in public areas of their labs. Their motto is 'enn Gleipnir falla': even Gleipnir fails, a statement of their belief even the impossible can be done given time.

The main focus of their research has been developing methods to give powers to people without them, with their first success was Bauer managing to turn a volunteer into a canine-human hybrid in 2271. Bauer's revealing words are now famous: “People still tell tale of the dog men. They will now bring comfort to children instead of fear.” In the intervening three decades, the Great Pack is recorded as providing unique abilities to 28 other people who have all used their power to benefit their communities in some way. Aside from giving powers, the group is also responsible for several medical advances. Possibly the one of greatest note is a cancer treatment which increases remission time by repairing damaged DNA sequences.

Despite it's great successes, the Great Pack has been facing some tribulations as of late. One being an alarming amount of misplaced people and documents: several scientists and research subjects have dropped off the map entirely, with a coinciding loss of all research records pertaining to them. A substantial reward has been offered by the group for help finding their missing members. Distracting from this however is one of their labs being accused of harming local wildlife, as many bear carcasses have been found in the area surrounding it. Of course, those are just the issues widely reported on. There are rumors of shady individuals offering money for dirt on the group. Easy enough to dismiss if it weren't for locals around the laboratories who speak of secret meetings and strange going ons. Many different occurrences are attributed to the group in quiet whispers, different for each lab. However, the one constant across the stories is a sound they can only describe as a howl which is felt more than heard echoing in the night.

[Silk]

~ Shōjiki Demolitions & Construction CEO: Shōjiki Abegale aka Honest Abe Abegale Shōjiki(honest) was born Abigale Shōjiki a Japanese-American UCAS citizen of Seattle. Never knowing who her father was due to her mother being popular callgirl among the Renraku Arcology pyramid managers. Growing up the daughter of sex worker isn't pleasant and the only thing keeping Abegale from forced to follow her mother's footsteps was a homely face and lack of assets, which Abegale was glad of. Unpleasant as her childhood was, Abegale found it more so as an orphan at age nineteen. The 2059 incident sealed up the Renraku Arcology with her mother inside. Living on the street, Abegale took to dressing a man by binding her breasts, cutting her hair, and calling herself Abe. She figured, if people thought Abe was a man, they wouldn't take advantage of her and it worked...for the most part. Abe found work as a construction worker and started making her way up the company ladder. Three years later, when they regained control of the Renraku Arcology pyramid, it was an almost unbearable to wait for information on Abe's mother. But it was not meant to be as her mother was listed as dead. Abe fell into a depresion as she tried to maintain the manly image she crafted and mourn her mother's death. Distracting herself, Abe threw herself into work. Through force of will and some unkind business practices, Abe become part-owner of the construction company that she worked for. By thirty-five, Abe owned it outright, renaming it Shōjiki Demolitions and Construction. Abe even changed her name legally from Abigale to Abagale to explain her gender deception if it ever came out in the open. "See I didn't lie, my nickname's Abe." But as she looked out of her office window at the construction site across the street that would eventually become her new office building the following year, Abegale couldn't lie to herself. She may introduce herself the traditional Japanese way of family name first to call her self Honest Abe to Americans and Japanese alike. At times, Abe may even be honest about the quality of her company's construction being the best in the business. Abegale knew she was not a nice person where it came to the success of her business. Underhanded deals, cost-cutting, intimidation, bribery, you name it, she's done it. All to succeed. All to make her dead mother proud of her. It's been sixteen years since she last saw her mother's smiling face, and every year on December nineteenth, Abegale burned a candle and contemplated her actions. And every year, she wondered if her mother would be proud of her or disgusted. With a sigh, Abegale turned away from the window and became Abe once again as she read the latest report.

[Lashiec]

 

The continent has grown chaotic. Governments are falling, crops are failing, and citizenries are turning against one another. In response, many have turned to old religions — increasingly, dangerous cults.

The most powerful of these cults is called “The Veil.” Its followers — those who “take the veil” — claim the world will only become more miserable and unfit for life. The Veil focuses instead on the promise of the Weaver, who claims they can create afterlives for true followers. These true followers are named “Abject Believers,” and attaining the status is the end-goal of every member of The Veil.

The Veil has given up on this life. Instead, they prepare and forge the next. However, attaining Abject Believer status is no easy task.

Veil Hierarchy:

Neophytes — “White Veils”

Everyone enters The Veil as a neophyte. They must be invited by an acolyte of the Veil before attending sermons, which is held once a month at locations determined at the previous sermon. Neophytes attend sermons completely shrouded in a cloak and dense, white veil.

Acolytes — “Black Veils”

Acolytes are accepted members of the Veil. A neophyte becomes an black-veiled acolyte through donations to the church, with a priest’s approval. It’s possible to pay the donation outright, but most neophytes unable to pay its high price. Instead, they take from others. Between sermons, groups of neophytes and acolytes set out on missions to collect donations for the church. Though petty theft is the most common method of collecting donations, more nefarious methods are not uncommon.

These parties have a low-level leader called the Usher. Acolytes may advance through the church hierarchy by establishing their own church as a priest or by becoming an Usher.

Ushers

Ushers are are officially not recognized by the church, but very much supported. They act as militant captains for local-level churches. Ushers command groups of followers, giving them targets to acquire donations from. The larger the church, the more ushers it will have. Ushers work directly with the priest, collectively called a “Choir.”

Priest

A local church’s priest does what their title suggests. They lead sermons and promote the Veil to the unconverted. However, they also organize, supervise, and collect donations from their Choir of Ushers.

Shepherd

Every priest answers to a Shepherd. There are seven Shepherds in total, each with a jurisdictional section of the continent. Shepherds are in charge of maintaining their jurisdiction and ensuring steady influxes of donations. Shepherds have Choirs of Ushers Superior. These Ushers Superior are soldiers for the Veil, performing larger jobs less suited for local churches.

Weaver

All Shepherds answer to the Weaver. The Weaver claims they are able to communicate directly to the gods. Those who rise through the ranks and gain the favor of the church join the Weaver in communicating with the gods. Together, they create the afterlife of the Abject Believer’s design. The Abject Believer is never seen again, presumably sent to their created afterlife.

[HellsingsRaziel]

 

"You couldn’t look at them too long if the sun was shining. The polished white steel from their armor reflected so much light it could blind you.
Made them look almost…otherworldly. The helms didn’t help with that either.
Could never really see their faces all too well. I guess it made the job easier for them if people didn’t recognize them.
What it did, though, was make them look impenetrable.
Like bright metal statues, walking around with gilded banners, chanting who knows what, every hour of every day."

"They were only men though, and women. They weren’t divine or whatever you call it.
You could easily have mistaken them for one of the religious orders with all the sanctimonious preaching and the righteous zeal.
Only thing is, they didn’t really believe in the gods…did they?
At least no one knew what god they prayed to. I don’t recall ever hearing them mention any god either."

"They just paraded around, keeping the peace in the name of…whatever.
Keeping the peace...
Taking people from their homes, chastising them in public or bringing them to the keep and releasing some sort of…smiling replicas in their place.
If that’s what you want to call keeping the peace."

"And the guard kept growing too! No matter how many losses they took or how many groups they sent out, there was always more of them to take their place.
Anytime they went outside the walls they always seemed to come back with greater numbers.
I heard once that a group of 20 left the city, they supposedly lost 5 during their patrols and then came back with 23 or something.
How does that happen?"

"Yeah sure, there was less crime, and the roads were safer but what cost were we paying?
Order above all. Above all!?
A lot of people couldn’t make ends meet. I sure couldn’t make a proper living.
And getting indoctrinated into an armor-clad cult isn’t my idea of a safety."

"And all of this because one idiot thought creating a force of shiny clowns would make the world better.
Lex they called him, their founder, long dead now. It’s not his name, if your wondering, it’s a title.
Means “The Law” were he was from I think. They all called themselves that, the leaders I mean.
3 of them. 2 men and a woman I think, hard to tell with the armor, they all look the same.
Easy to spot them though. As if the white steel wasn’t noticeable enough, they had a LOT of decorative gold on their armor.
Always meant trouble when they came out: crackdowns, raids, imprisonments…executions.
Lost a lot of friends to those lunatics and their banner waving cohorts.
Some died, some just…disappeared."

"I don’t want to talk about this anymore."

"Why do you want to know all this anyway? Happened years ago, not like anyone can do anything about it."

- Marion, burglar and cutpurse, on the Lexerin Guard

[HalcyonRhys]

[SECRET="Inem"]Sir Thomas of Jorn, an ordinary-looking fluffy white cat is anything but ordinary. Where ordinary felines catch mice, lounge in the sun on a warm summer day, or serve nobly as a “shops’ cat”, he oversees “The Undying”; a monastic order in the service of Arasti; the silver maiden, dedicated to protecting the realm from chaos and undeath. Though they tend to avoid the political and martial conflicts of man, there are plenty of other threats to the realm, the deadly nightmare hounds principal among them.

 

The Undying can actually die, just not of natural causes or old age. For all intents and purposes, they are immortal.

Only Thomas of Jorn and a handful of others know their true numbers, but whether nine or nine hundred, the feline knights and dames of “The Undying” are blessed with gifts from Arasti as varied as the members themselves are. Among their numbers are fierce war mages with destructive magic for combating whatever creatures threaten the stability of the realm. Some are more akin to the druids in their manner and ability, opting to use the power of nature of the elements. Others dwell in shadows and prefer to employ greater subtlety in the use of their magic. Others still opt for the use of their martial talents combined with defensive magic to serve the silver maiden.

Whichever path they choose to serve, each also must co-exist within the realms of men, and whether they reside in the great houses of the Empire, in the harbor or trade quarter, or in the slums, each are charged with watching history unfold, but not to interfere or intervene with the natural progress of a kingdom or its rulers. It has been thus, until now.

In the wilderness beyond the three kingdoms, a shadow of a threat is forming, one that apparently seeks the destruction of “The Undying” and all other "Awakened" creatures; which are other cats/dogs etc… that have been awakened to the existence of The Undying. Often times, they serve as helpers for the knights and dames of the order. In these past weeks, five Undying charged with patrolling the wilds disappeared when they investigated an unseasonable wild fire. Three more from villages on the fringes of that endless grassland were found dead later that same week, causing a great stir among The Undying. Something is coming and they need to face the threat.

Thomas of Jorn must convene Arasti’s counsel and Knights and dames must be sent to investigate the nature of this threat, so they might know it first-hand. If they discover what they face, they might be able to stop it before it threatens the rest of the three kingdoms.[/SPOILERBUTTON]

[Unko Talok]

 

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*Dungeoneering Unlimited (Ltd.) bears no responsibility for Wyrms and Archdemons gone rogue. You know what you bought.
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***The Blood Contracts Program forfeits your immortal soul to be later resurrected as a lich or revenant to serve for eternity in one of Dungeon Unlimited (Ltd.)'s megadungeons.

[AwesomeEli]

 

The Village of Ghosts Lost and weary travelers don't always find themselves in the bellies of beasts. Some, instead, wind up wandering into strange little towns, unmarked on maps and vanished if one tries to return, where the buildings are off and the people are odd. Across all the stories of such towns, there's no common descriptor other than how strange the town as a whole is, picked up out of some time and place and plopped down in the middle of nowhere. Villages where even the buildings are ghosts, there only to shelter those in need for a night and to offer food for trinkets. The truth of the matter is much more bizarre, as it often is. Almost all of these stories stem from the same beings, an enclave of shapeshifters primarily made up of doppelgangers, mimics, and cloakers who reject the violent path of some of their kin. When in the presence of outsiders, doppelgangers pose as townsfolk, mimics take on the forms of buildings and furniture, cloakers become clothing and blankets, and the more varied shapeshifters fill in the gaps. Unfortunately, due to their nomadic lifestyle at the fringes of civilization, they rarely get a chance to properly learn modern speech, fashion, and architecture. While some of the stronger shapeshifters do their best to fill in the gaps with information gleaned from visitors with their telepathy, this still leaves their façade with plenty of cracks. The group is led by the oldest doppelganger, an ancient being named ManyThink, who sought a life free of the worry that they would be found out as a shapechanger by the city they lived in. Even though they lived peacefully, those bound to a single form were always lethally fearful of what they did not understand, so ManyThink being harmless would not be defense enough to stay their hand. Once ManyThink found more of their kind who shared in these views, they all left to find even more who might join them in a search for a content life. They have largely found that life, and in doing so, those with a single form have become objects of curiosity to The Village of Ghosts - their coins, jewelry, and tools have little use for the village, but food is easy to come by for the shapeshifters and the traded items become memorabilia to commemorate their old owners. The only problem arises when people find out the truth about the village, be it from one of the shapeshifters slipping up and revealing themselves to an outsider or from an visitor using magic - anything that detects life reveals almost everything in the village as a living entity, and thought-reading magics pick up an onslaught of the alien language of shapeshifters coming from everywhere. Such incidents must be kept silent, with persuasion being the preferred method. However, when made to defend itself, The Village of Ghosts is a powerful force that brings its slew of shapeshifters to bear with frightening speed and ferocity.