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Almarea90
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This thread reflects the content of Candlekeep's public section. All the books listed below can be freely perused by everyone who isn't banished from Candlekeep's grounds.

List by title:

List by Author

Abbot, Alesea Al'maire, Eldarian Aleaneldeth, Tiawyn Trial for House Divine vs. James Forseeth
Alessia Almaker, Myshra Anonymous Archost, Oryoon Arele, Iolanna Arlynson, Reine Arorn Arunir Ashmeddai, Malign Astorio, Solwyn Auren, Jand Auvryarn, Felynra Avender, Rhoe Azenci, Aeili Baker, Adrian Balderden, Dolinar Bartholomay, Jacho Bartholomew, H. L. Bixloropin, Vabo Bjorlund, Genevieve'Riset Blake, Tia Blackburn, Desmond Bobbin Bramblehoff, Rodoc Brees, Hector Carnilagus, Narcisse Cinnamon Cott, Stan Crathaidh Crier Steve Cromis, Tegeus Cult, Solaris d’Abdelledion’dy’Quellium, Netanya Dacino, Lafali'Atria-Hoihe Devilscry, Raven Di Liberti, Fiores Dolban, Hendrick Dorsithe, Dredd Doubleheritage, Serena Duskwalker, Marneiros Eden Elidole, Ayla Endelyon Eratharn Feyborn, Felian Flatstone, Rocky Freysdottir, Ygrid Gazieva, Nailya Gers, Buurk Greencrest, Kervel Haiden Heartfilia, Lucy Ingenium, Reineke Innovius Elycia Ironmantle, Halgrim Jaimes, Elle Jandar Jr'eine, Nawiel Kaiju, Saru Kaga, Tsukumo Kanthu Karlsen, Hjalmar Kay Kayla, Lucia Keenan, Alexandra Kelm, Khellan Kelteel, Gasten Kerr, Emrys Kinsara, Noromical Krinkrak, Lothar Kross, Chloe Kulenov, Katerine Kuznetsova, Jenya Kynttila, Rai Kuu Lafayette, Cecilia Lafreth, Laitae Lanneset, Justian Le'Quella, Skye Leonhart, Alyssia Lewis, Jay Liam the Golden Lichelina, Yurielendorimbor “Yuri” Lilinlith, Amora Livingstonn, Raleigh Lucia Machshikhah, Mae Malkuth, Quartz Marsak, Talas Merigold, Aster Mi-Le Moon, Caelus Nachtbar, Nyctored Nash, Declan Nhaalvahir', Saerthal Nilimirith Nulen, Amir Ogrillon, Ogruhn Ostiriel, Mealir Pein, Caldur Pyrewood, Eustace Clementhy Quickfeet, Penny Ragnon, Adallan Ragnon, Rania Marie Ravenpath, Sylvyre Remus Rhaeg Rilae'ar'an Riviere, Stanza Rose Ru'othro, Cyrah Saar, Kadri Saint Merielle Santraeger, Ameris Sariel Schulltze, Barristan Sigrunn Silverson, Alcarin Siofra, Oona Sister Ashenie Skein, Janette Smith, Leo Sorin, Iris Spades, Edelgarde Trial of Amos Thistle
Starling, Marietta Tarina The Avowed of Candlekeep The Inner Chamber, Deneirrath Temple of Berdusk Thunderstone, Clarif Tradingway, Ernest Turambar, Turin Ukasha, Masika Varl, Jelmira Venandi, Emmanuel Venor, Deaon Verenach, Morgalia Vexx, Reiker Walker, Kayle Waterly, J.R. Whitehall, Magnus Wolfscarlett, Rosandra Rosita Wyrmsbane, Yolo Ynamo, Teris Yurvir, Duriel Za'amal, Za'than Zizor'Grym, Enenra Zul
A note is attached to one of the shelves:
The following books are still missing:

Hiding in Plain Sight
Order of the Radiant Heart
Seeking the Great Black
Stronghand Symbolism
The Tome of Osiris
The Truth about Thay
Twin Terrors
Underdark Survival Guide Vol II
Zanthan's Divine Comedy, I

If anybody is in possession of a copy, it would be greatly appreciated if they could provide it for us to be copied.

Thank you in advance,

Scribe Edelgarde Spades


((OOC: if you wish to public a book in the public library feel free to pm me the text so I can copy and paste it here, it would be a huge help. Alternatively, you can add the post yourselves.
Last edited by Almarea90 on Thu Mar 23, 2023 6:09 pm, edited 117 times in total.
Edelgarde Spades - Guide of Candlekeep and Deneirrath priest, still a Disney princess in the wrong tale.

Gleam of the Firefly - In your darkest hour, look for the firefly

Auntie Ed's Wands(TM): Saving the Coast one Protection from Evil at time.

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A Book of Lathanderite Devotion - Alesea Abbot
1352 DR
A BOOK OF PRAYERS AND HYMNS
Written by Dawnpriest Alesea Abbot

Dedicated to both the glory of Lathander, and to a hard teacher, cherished hero, and warm friend - Knight Commander Eldarian Al'maire.

+ + PRAYERS + +

+ Upon the Dawn +
Lord of the Morn, in the day's first Light we look to You. In the morning sounds we listen for Your voice. The rising sun shows us Your face, and Your face shines down upon us - illuminating all things. We turn ourselves toward You and offer joyful prayer. We seek Your presence in the depths of our hearts and yearn for Your abiding Light in the Depths of our souls.

...

We welcome each new day. It is a gift to us, a new creation, a promise of rebirth. May our hands do the work of good. May our eyes seek the truth and revel in beauty. May we speak compassionately. Morninglord, make me an instrument of Your peace. Where there is injury, let me sow forgiveness. Where there is doubt, faith. Where there is sadness, joy. Where there is despair, Hope. Where there is darkness, Your Light.

+ Upon a new journey, relationship, or undertaking +
Lathander, give us Light for the journey. Let Your Grace guide us in wisdom and truth as we embark upon a new beginning in Your name. Morninglord give us thoughts to inspire us, examples to lead us toward forgiveness, peace, and harmony together. Lord, let Your holy presence fill us with all good things; may we reflect Your goodness to one another and to others, so that Your Light may ever increase.

+ Daily Living +
Lord, help us ever to walk in Your Light. Grant daily that we may live in glad faith to You, under the abundant shelter of Your shining glory. Your goodness has brought us safely to the ending of this day. Grant, O Lord of the Morn, that we see Your Dawn rise anew again with hearts attuned to the Hope of a rosy future; with bodies youthfully invigorated, capable of serving You, and with eyes hungry for the beauty You reveal.
...

Let us live each day in Lathander's glorious Light. Let us live by His compassion and joy. Let us live by sharing the gifts He has given us, practicing warmth, generosity, and love.
Let us live as Lathander would have us live, bringing Hope for each new Dawn to the hearts of others.

+ At the Close of the Day +
I will lay me down in both Hope and Joy, for You, O Morninglord, wrap me in the warmth of Your Light and wreathe me in the rosen glow and daily assurance of the eternally verging Dawn. Grant us peaceful rest and spirits adorned with anticipation for service, perfection, and all that you would have of us in the day to come.

...

O Lathander, thou Light over all, the Light no darkness can overcome; stay with us for it is evening and the day is almost over. Let Your Light scatter the darkness and illumine Your faithful. We have come to the setting of the sun. O Giver of Light, we declare Your glory. Bring us restful sleep and new Hope for the morrow. Let us be ever assured in You.

+ In Times of Trouble and for the Lost +
Lord lift us through the slow darkening of the night into a daybreak that's wondrously clear. Let us reflect the glow of Your goodness so that we may live victoriously, resplendently, and burn for You that the lost will find the way of the Light by the work of our hands and the example we give.

...

Lathander, we place our trust in You, who smiles upon all things with Your incandescent morn. Lead us to believe with a lively faith: energetic and willing. Continually grant Your Grace unto our lives and bestow it upon those who linger in darkness; to light and guard, to rule and to guide.

...

In Your Light we learn how to love. In Your beauty, how to create. You lead our hearts to dance and spur our actions toward good. Spark our own inner Light to guide us by Your will over every obstacle and through each dark time we encounter, for You make us more than capable.
Cultivate our Hope in only You, Radiant Lord of the Morn, for we are Yours.

+In Benediction +
May the Dawn bless you and keep you. Lathander make His face shine upon you and be gracious to you. My Lord lift up His countenance upon you and grant you His Light.

...

May the blessings of the Light be upon you, Light withouth and Light within. The blessed sunlightshine on you and warm your heart till it glows with the fire of Lathander.


+ + HYMNS + +

Your presence comes when Morning dawns & Light Triumphant breaks! When beauty gilds the eastern hills and life to joy awakes.

Oh, brighter than that glorious Morn shall dawn upon this place: when You Your goodness do reveal and we shall see Your face.

Your word shall sound when morning dawns and Light and beauty brings. Hail, Lord of Morn! Your people pray: hear all our voices sing.

+

For the beauty of each hour of the day that conquers night; hill and vale and tree and flow'r, sun of all-availing Light. Lord of Morn, to Thee we raise - this our hymn of grateful praise!

For Thyself best gift divine, and Your Hope so freely giv'n; for that beauteous love of Thine, rosy hearts and sunlit heav'n. Lord of Morn to thee we raise - this our hymn of grateful praise!

+

Preserve Your word and teaching; that You may make us whole. The sunlight of Your glory, the pow'r that saves the soul.

O keep our faith from failing, keep Hope's bright sun aglow; let nothing from Truth turn us, while living here below.

Convince and bless, enlighten the souls in error's night; though dusk and dark would seek us, upholed us in Your Light.

Reveal Your will, Commander, to all who dwell below. Great Light of all the living, that all Your name might know.

Be always our Defender, when dangers gather 'round; when all around is crumbling, safe be Your faithful found.

Oh may this morning water - the dew of Your bright Grace - sustain us while here living, until we see Your face.

+

Brightest and Best, Thou Sun of the Morning: dawn on our darkness and lend us Thine aid. Star of the east, horizon adorning - give Hope to our hearts while abed yet we lay.

Cool on our brows the dewdrops are shining, baptized in morningtime Grace as they fall. Cresting the hills, our heads ane inclining; the rays of the Sun are a beacon to all.

Shall we not yield, in fervent devotion, songs from our lips and off'ring divine? Gems of the mountain, pearls of the ocean; creative works that race from our mind.

Brightest and best, thou joyful Life-Giver! Invigorate us with rebirth, youthful sprite. Lord of our hearts, let Hope like a river flow to your faithful. Bathe them in Light!
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Edelgarde Spades - Guide of Candlekeep and Deneirrath priest, still a Disney princess in the wrong tale.

Gleam of the Firefly - In your darkest hour, look for the firefly

Auntie Ed's Wands(TM): Saving the Coast one Protection from Evil at time.

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A Brief History of Common - Stanza Riviere
by Constance Riviere of Cormyr

Thorasta, referred to by most simply as "Common", is the main trade language of Faerun.

Based on the Thorass script and having developed from Thorass itself, Common makes communication between regions, cultures and races possible across the entire continent with remarkably little effort. Most sentient creatures have a basic grasp of common, even races traditionally considered savage or unintelligent by some advanced cultures. An example of this is the Gnoll.

Thorasta developed from Thorass, also known as "Old Common", which was itself birthed from a cultural mating of Jhaamdathan and Alzhedo. One could easily trace the origins of Thorass to the Lake of Steam in South Faerun, west across the mountains from Calimshan.

There is ample evidence to suggest Jotun influence stretching back to the early formation of the language.

From Thorass, Thorasta developed almost as an organism, varying in depth and complexity between regions and cultures. Perhaps the most intriguing development of Thorass and Jhaamdathan (Old Chondathan) is that although the latter heavily influenced the former, modern variants of Thorasta remain both closely related and yet distinct from Chondathan, save of course for the Thorass script.

It is entirely possible for one fluent in Common to have difficulty translating anything from Chondathan. particularly from dialects such as Cormanthan - an assertion I can confirm from personal experience.

Thorasta is spoken in tandem with local dialects of languages such as Chondathan and Cormanthan (though in the strictest sense of the term the latter is a dialect in itself and both share the same language group - Thorass).

Though Thorass was initially developed as a trade language, and thus sacrificed eloquence for efficiency of information, Thorasta by contrast has developed into something rather more versatile, though no less informative. It has absorbed words from hundreds of languages and dialects, evolving over the centuries into something more akin to Chondathan in terms of breadth, scope and application.

As an acquaintance of mine was apt to put it;

"I heard a scholar once claim that Common "borrowed" from other dialects. No. No it doesn't. It follows them down dark alleyways, clubs them over the head, rifles through their pockets for loose grammar... Chews it up and then regurgitates it."
- Moe, 22nd Tarsakh 1354

Leaving aside the colourful turn of phrase, one cannot help but agree with his assessment.

Already centuries old, Thorasta continues to develop to this day. It is very difficult to estimate with any degree of accuracy. but new words are constantly entering into the vernacular and being passed from one side of the world to the other with the speed of a sending spell.

In places where these words congregate on a regional level, we see "Cant" developing into distinct dialects of their own which branch off from the main tongue. Where some scholars may argue that Cant is a pidgin variant of the language, I feel it prudent to point out that Thorass itself was a pidgin version of Jhaamdathan. Of such things are the modern world comprised.

The most "pure" dialect of Thorasta can be found here on the Sword Coast, from Beregost to Baldur's Gate and from the North Way Inn to Hill's Edge. The Western Heartlands to this day remain a bastion of that tongue, which can be considered amongst scholars to be the closest relation (in terms of form and dialect) to the Thorass from which it derives, and consequently to the Chondathan with which it shared a crib.

This short essay was written by Constance Riviere of Cormyr, 22nd Tarshakh, 1354.
Baldur's Gate
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A Discourse on the Laws of Baldur's Gate - Anonymous
A Discourse on the laws of Baldur's Gate

Published on the 7th of Alturiak, Year of the Bow, 1354 DR.

Introduction


The 20th of Hammer in the Year of the Bow, 1354 DR, marked an important occasion on the Duchal calendar, for it was on that day that the Laws of Baldur's Gate received a significant revision in their tenure, strength and reach.

This tractate serves to explore the precise changes made to Baldurian Law in the recent Duchal Declaration, and the implications that they bring for the common citizenry of the fair city of Baldur's Gate.

First Change - Practice of The Dark Arts and Consorts Thereunto


As is fair and just for the city of Baldur's Gate and its environs, the Dukes of Baldur's Gate have reaffirmed their stance on the prohibition of those nefarious and dark practices that goodly folk would do well to remain in ignorance of: necromancy, eldritch, or pact magic and blood magic are condemned practices within the city.

What was added was the prohibition of the trade of items or magic of such nature, as well as a new provision that consorts with those who practice such terrible deeds are likewise guilty of an offense meriting up to capital punishment.

Further clarification of this clause was then added, wherein Duchal sovereignty is given the right of discretion in judgement. The provision on consorting specifically states that "unless specifically sanctioned by the Dukes of Baldur's Gate", and "this law only applies to individual beings and not organizations or polities". Furthermore, "the consorting provision... is only for offenses that took place on or after 20th Hammer, 1354 DR", and that "the definition of consorting will be up to the discretion of Baldurian Magistrates of the law on a case by case basis".

Implications


While certainly a noble and just in its intentions, the changes to the Baldurian laws prohibiting the Dark Arts leave more questions than answers. It does not take more than a cursory examination of the changes to begin to ask some penetrating and poignant questions.

The provision of Sanction encapsulated in the law is the first glaring one of these and basically says that the Dukes may indeed permit the practice of the Dark Arts in this fair city if they so choose.

Now, while I do not honestly expect they have or will intend on doing so, it does, once again, open the issue of why the Dukes feel such a provision is necessary? Who could they possibly want practicing the Dark Arts in their city? Or are they just trying to cover over the fact that Halbazzer Drin has been selling foul, despicable and abominable necromantic magic (specifically Animate Dead & Energy Drain) for gods-know-how-long and they wished to preserve his good reputation because he keeps the mould and mildew at bay? What are the Flaming Fist doing deep down in their dungeons, anyway?

Notice the law on 'consorting' specifically applies only to individuals; organisations and polities are exempt. That is to suggest that an approved organization, such as the Red Wizards of Thay, the Zhentarim & the Harpers, just to give three examples, may freely and unashamedly, as organisations, consort with those who defile and desecrate all that is good and holy in the world with full and complete knowledge that the law is beyond their reach. Unassociated, and therefore unapproved, individuals are as far as it can reach.

Lastly, the exemption of time has basically offered amnesty to all against which evidence could be presented that they have not only consorted with, but perhaps themselves practiced, the Dark Arts before the 20th of Hammer. It does make one wonder whom the Dukes had in mind that they did not wish to incriminate and open to punishment of a retroactive law, had such a clause not been included. As it is, they remain free and unpunished.

Second Change - The Orcs and the Drow


As with the changes to the Dark Arts above, relations with those two feral races, the orcs and the drow, have undergone a similar revision..

Their undeniable evil is reaffirmed, but once again we see that the same consorting provisions and exemptions have been added. The wording is identical to that for the Dark Arts above, which I feel no need to repeat again as the texts themselves are more than available in the Duchal Palace.

Implications


As above, it once again begs the question for those who can read between the lines of the law: whom are the Dukes now protecting by crafting their legal revisions in such a manner?

It is again explicit that those "officially sanctioned to do so" are permitted to consort with orcs and drow, presumably for the same 'good' of the city that sanctioned practitioners of the Dark Arts may exhibit.

It is explicit that these laws offer amnesty to "organisations and polities", and for good reasons. The idea that the Zhents, the Red Wizards and the Harpers continue to maintain good relations with those black dogs from beneath yet enjoy Duchal privileges in politics and economics must sit terribly uncomfortably in their laps, thus the necessity to exclude them, by unnamed implication, from the reformed laws seems like an uttermost necessity.

Lastly, as above with the Dark Arts, the time exemption offers amnesty, if not outright immunity, from all the information previously collected and possibly presented in evidence to condemn those whom have undeniable links and associations with the orcs and drow prior to 20th Hammer, 1354 DR.

This is a very cunning and clever ploy by the Dukes, lest they be forced to actually begin punishing those selfsame "organisations and polities" who break the same laws in secret that they claim to uphold in public. A retroactive law would undoubtedly have forced the Duchal hand against them, and that was simply an impossibility to the because they wish to continue to have their cake and eat it too.

Summary


It might be well thought that the new laws are certainly a step in the right direction for the city of Baldur's Gate, but in the end they actually accomplish nothing at all.

Those organizations that already have indisputable links to the Dark Arts, the orcs and the drow, the primary evidence of which is now worthless to Baldurian Courts, are now at complete and unhindered liberty to continue their nefarious practices in secret, as they have always done.

It would have been better if the Dukes of Baldur's Gate simply offered a declaration of complete and unconditional amnesty to all those who practice, collude and collaborate with the Dark Arts, the orcs and the drow, and then wholly overturned all current laws on their prohibition entirely. Let the necromancers, blood mages, pact mages, orcs and drow flood through the walls! it would not be any different to the Baldur's Gate that exists now, and presumably long into the future.

Long lives the Dukes!
Long live Baldur's Gate!
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Edelgarde Spades - Guide of Candlekeep and Deneirrath priest, still a Disney princess in the wrong tale.

Gleam of the Firefly - In your darkest hour, look for the firefly

Auntie Ed's Wands(TM): Saving the Coast one Protection from Evil at time.

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A Gentleman's Affair - H. L. Bartholomew

Chapter 1 - The Garden
It was on none other than this bright, spring day that we would find young Percy Cavendish out for his morning calisthetics. The jog was like any other - a scent of fresh roses cut by the gardener, the hooves by the stables, the bark of the hound as he passed, and at the end, of course, the sight that made his heart stop.

For there she stood, the stunning Elena Margeleine, that some would consider a beauty, but that Percy saw to be a shining standout even amongst the stars in the sky. Percy would approach her as he always did, with the grace and duty that such a lady deserved. His dirtied clothes only a minor hindrance, the lord would adjust himself, looking up to her with his noble green eyes.

"My lady Elena, as always, your beauty dost stop my heart, and cause me to stumble. Would that you give me the opportunity to ask once more, I would beg a boon this day".

Elena , of course, would cover her ruby lips with her fan as she giggled. Her bright blue eyes would look to his as she spoke, "Your Excellency, Count Percy, Lord of the lands of Callentoch, you do me honor by asking, as always. However, you are my better, and thus I am obliged to serve. A boon is but a question away, as always," she would say with a wistful bow, and a curtsie.

"My lady, all I seek is a token from you as always, a look upon your face for but a moment longer before I must go on," the gentleman would respond, a twinkle in his eye.

"Ah, your Excellency, Count Percy, you do ask too much of me. For I am not worthy to gaze upon thee, in your nobility. Alas, you shall simply have to accept my apologies, and a wave of my hand. Do you remember your good graces, won't you?"

Percy would give a smile and a bow, as he always did, knowing her rejection would come as it always did. "Lady Elena, you continue to inspire me onward," he would call forth to her,

[There appears to be a large ink blot covering much of the rest of the page, and the next several pages seem to be torn from the book]

And as she gazed upon his figure, she could see muscles rippling with each heave. Was this the Percy that she once knew? He leaned into it, pushing hard as he forced his way through, and she gasped. The door was knocked down, and Percy stood over it.

Their way now clear, the two could escape their untimely demise, though the dastardly wizard would surely notice soon. Elena's hands began to slip from Percy's as she fell. Her dress torn and ruined, her body hit the cold, damp floor with a thud and she found unconsciousness as a moth to the flame.

Chapter 19 - The Awakening

Her eyes would open, feeling his arms holding her. A hustle seemed to surround them, as Percy held her. Familiar smells, sounds, and even the trees above would fly by. They were on horseback! The hooves were all too familiar as she saw her Percy, no longer a Count, but truly a nobleman in her eyes.

"My Lady Helena..." Percy said softly, his gloved hands holding her against his bare chest as they rode. "You never do fail to stop my heart."

Elena would attempt a soft giggle at that, shaking her head, "My Count Percy, this time you have stopped mine."
Fin
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A Guide to the Monastic Orders of Faerun - Adallan Ragnon

A Guide to the Monastic Orders of Faerun
Written by Seeker Adallan Ragnon of Candlekeep

Table of contents:
3 The Order of the Broken Ones
4 The Order of the Dark Moon
5 The Order of the Hin Fist
6 The Order of the Long Death
7 The Old Order
8 The Order of the Shining Hand
9 The Order of the Sun Soul
11 The Order of the Yellow Rose
12 Local Orders of the Baldur's Gate Region

The Order of the Broken Ones
The Order of the Broken Ones is one that devotes itself to Ilmater. In his name, these monks are primarily found within the Dales, but have been known to set up monasteries outside of it as well.

In terms of a fighting style, those who follow this Order most often use a style that throws caution to the wind, a self-sacrificing way of life.

The Order of the Dark Moon
Not much is known of the Order of the Dark Moon, except that it is primarily practiced in back alleys, and more hidden hills. Rumor has it that the Order is based in a following of sShar, but that cannot be confirmed.

Those within the Order practice more than just street-fighting, mastering an explosive style to end the fight quickly and mercilessly.

The Order of the Hin Fist
The Order of the Hin Fist, as the name suggests, is primarily made of up halflings. Based in Luiren, they, more than others, emphasize the power of a halfling to overcome the odds, and show that the underdog can indeed prove his or her way.

The monastery has been known to accept gnomes, and even dwarves in their number, but these are extraordinary cases.

The Order itself tends to be more isolationist, and will fashion themselves with gloves that make loud, piercing sonic booms to warn the outside world of their presence as they train. With this, they are able to warn others to keep their distance.

The Order of the Long Death
An Order devoted completely to the principle of death itself, without any particular deity in mind. Their focus is specifically on death and pain, and their style reflects it.

While the Order does exist more prominently in Thay than other places, they do not have particularly strong relations with the Red Wizards.

The Old Order
A seemingly long-forgotten Order, the Old Order does not have any known large monasteries throughout Faerun, but has occasional followers that will wander the lands. Of those, the members of the Order are not devoted to any specific deity, but share a common ideal of peaceful mindfulness.

Overall, the Order's style of meditative combat is extremely defensive-minded, with those who have mastered it being able to defeat their opponent without throwing a single blow.

The Order of the Shining Hand

This Order tends to mix magic and the martial arts, having a deep respect for the mix of the faith in Azuth, as well as the mix of wizardry and monastic ways.

The Order is found primarily in Amn, where they have temples scattered throughout, and are one of the oldest Orders in the region. It is unsurprising that the style of combat emphasizes this mix of magic and martial arts.

The Order of the Sun Soul
The Order of the Sun Soul is primarily dedicated most often to Lathander, Selune, and Sune. The monastic orders are somewhat disorganized, but share a common respect (sometimes more than simply respect) for the sun. This can be seen to be as little as a daily respect toward the sun rise and set, to as much as believing a small portion of the light lives within them and drives them.

Overall, the style of the Sun Soul is one of balance. The ideals reflect that of protection of the common folk of the world, and defending of temples of the deities they follow, as well as their allies.

Most monasteries are in removed locations, often near wilderness, where the sun is considered most crucial. They have been found scattered elsewhere as well.

The Order of the Yellow Rose
An Order known more conventionally as the Disciples of Saint Sollars, this monastery, like the Order of Broken Ones, worships Ilmater. However, the Order of the Yellow Rose has only a solitary monastery, located in the Earthspur Mountains within Damara.

Those Disciples of Saint Sollars are known widely for being diplomatic and honest, often travelling alongside paladins of Ilmater to spread their message.

This Order's style of combat is one that wreaks destruction on their enemies, while protecting their allies, focusing on drawing attacks and throwing their force toward the enemy quickly and decisively.

Local Orders of the Baldur's Gate Region
Of those Orders within the Baldur's Gate region, the following have come to make themselves known:

The Order of the Four Ways
This Order has devoted itself to the ideal to "do no evil." They are relatively open to others joining, and happy to teach all who wish it.

The Order of the Balanced Hand
This Order has made a point of working on developing psionic powers within themselves, not devoted to any specific deity.

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Gleam of the Firefly - In your darkest hour, look for the firefly

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A Lecture Upon the Shadow - Emrys Kerr

[This short work is scribed in two languages, written side by side: Common and Waelan]
Stand still, and I will read to thee
A lecture, love, in love's philosophy.
These three hours we have spent,
Walking here, two shadows went
Along with us, which we ourselves produc'd.
But, now the sun is just above our head,
We do those shadow tread,
And to brave clearness all things are reduc'd.
So whilst our infant loves did grow,
Disguises did, and shadows, flow
From us and our cares; but now 'tis not so.
That love has not attain'd the high'st degree.
Which is still diligent lest others see.

Except our loves at this noon stay,
We shall new shadows make the other way.
As the first were made to blind
Others, these which come behind
Will work upon ourselves, and blind our eyes.
If your loves faint, and westwardly decline,
To me thou, falsely, thine,
And I to thee mine actions shall disguise.
The morning shadows wear away,
But these grow longer all the day;
But oh, love's day is short, if love decay.
Love is a growing, or full constant light,
And his first minute, after noon, is night

Emrys Kerr, 1355
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A Skald's Tale - Ygrid Freysdottir

A quest set forth, two trials of might. The Son of Tarben sailed on, the island in sight. The first test was thus; gather berry bushels of five - tread onto the isle, fight to survive. As hull reached shore and danced in the tide, Son of Tarben moved on with his skald guide.

The skald by his side, she shivered in fear; she had past on this isle, death lingered here. She knew the home of the berries required; Son of Tarben would fight, his skald would inspire. "Beware the fish men," she would say; "Come, Son of Tarben, this way."

Through paths of bush, lined with palms, the skald was cautious while the her was calm. Corners and chasms, thickets and glades; Son of Tarben carved way with dancing twin blades. One shined in sunlight - glistening and white - its twin drank the shadow, blacker than night.

Rounding a bend, the first bush appeared; then the rustle of branches, and hissing drew near. Jumping from leaves and from sands beneath, four sea devils lunged with razor sharp teeth. Son of Tarben set forward, his skald hid behind. Spears then met blades, in a dance long entwined.

Blood met the air with each mighty swing; flesh hewn by blade, night and day's string. Falling one then, shortly after two - A hero fighting strong, as all surely do. The remaining fell soon with fear in their eyes, The Son of Tarben spat, claiming his prize. The skald gazed on wonder, one bushel claimed; onward they ventured, four more remained.

The isle grew vast as the two set on forth, twisting and winding as the pair ventured north. Son of Tarben now hunter - the devil now prey - the hero still stoic as the skald hid away. Further still, the devils yet spawned; guarding two bushels that grew by a pond.

Up a hillside path, to the temple up high - the fourth bush grew strong in the open sun's light. Devils still fell, thrown to the beaches below; Their last breaths wasted on panicked cries of woe. The fourth bushel claimed, Son of Tarben looked around; the island all seen, from sky to ground.

He could see the last now, at the base of a hill; but looking down then, he saw more devils still. Venturing down to the camp beach around, Son of Tarben let ring out a mighty sound. War cry in place as he charged to the fray; the skald watching in wonder, behind she would stay.

Sea devil fell dead, one after another; soldier, scout, and their blessed sea mother. Rising from the tide with an anchor in hand, the devil's leader waded upon land. Loosing a cry of anger and might, the vile creature charged into the fight.

A flurry of swings, on both of the sides. Son of Tarbean was agile, and the Devil's reach wide. With a slash and a kick, the hero endeavored, a flurry of blows until the creature's head severed. Panting and beaten - falling to a knee - the devil's head cast back into the sea.

The last bush claimed, and the isle crossed back, hero and skald continued their track. To the boat they returned, the haul in tow; a new path now that the skald would know. "Well done, Son of Tarben," a smile on her mouth, "The first task is done, now we must sail south."

-*-

The final trial awaited, a journey underground. Deep into the forest, where iron could be found. The mines lost to goblins, their kind fierce and vile; the dwarf sought his ore, the Hero agreed the trial. Through the forest they traveled, deep within the trees, to cliffs sheltered from sunshine and breeze.

The cave was in sight, and darkness within; Son of Tarben soldiered forth, offering the darkness a grin. His skald followed faithfully, though she faltered in gait; in this mine now, what would be their fate? The hero ventured onward, and she scurried along; If death did not visit, it'd made a great song.

The skald whispered magics, creating a light; the two going onward with the blackness in sight. Shadows cast monsters along the walls, the skald sticking close as they rounded the halls. Breaths echoed sharply along with their advance; Son of Tarben never faltering in his strong stance.

Across a wooden walkway, a chasm below, the duo set ears to their first vicious foe. A goblin of strength, no smaller than man, charged and slashed along as it ran. Son of Tarben stood fast, awaiting the blow, and with one sudden dodge cast the goblin below.

The skald stuck close as the hero set straight, the platform below shifting under his weight. The turns grew to maze as the two ventured deep, stumbling across spider nested in heaps. Closing her eyes with the highest of screams; a vision from within her darkest dreams.

Slashing and crashing filled the skald's ears, her stance low and her eyes filled with tears. Silence then fell, save for hard breathing, the skald looked up, a her now seething. Triumphant he stood, amidst rubble and gore; a pile of dead spiders painted the floor.

Onward still, the two ventured yet; round corners, 'cross bridges, slaying each threat. Goblins poured still from the shadows around, black blood and carnage littered the ground. Onward they set, for what seemed like forever; 'till the ground gave way to a lift and its lever.

Descending to the second floor down, Son of Tarben looked on as the skald did frown. With grinding and dust, the lift did settle; a grating of wood and stone upon metal. Stepping now to the floor anew; hero and skald, the wandering two.

More twists and turns and gore to behold; Son of Tarben cut through like heroes of old. Leaving a trail of corpses in wake, the two came across their ore to take. Upturning the cart and throwing the hall in a sack, Son of Tarben set back with the weight on his back.

Grunting and moving, with great strain, the hero strut back to the direction they came. Through twists and turns, over corpses he slew, through dark rickety bridges and up the lift, too. Back over the walkway, no more foes to find; save for their hisses, hiding behind.

Breaking free of the mines, to the light of day; Hero and skald continued their way. His burden was heavy, but his heart was light; Succeeding his trials of heroic might. "Well done, Son of Tarben" spoke with a smile. "Let us go to The Gate and rest for a while."
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A Treatise on Bane - Reineke Ingenium

A Quick Treatise on Bane
By Archivist Reineke Ingenium
Commissioned by Dalfador Walowick

Bane is the deity of fear, hatred and tyranny. He is the ruler of Banehold.

Bane rarely ever acts in a direct manner, rather preferring to act through his worshippers and other agents. His goal is the entire domination of Faerun.

Although a deity of subterfuge, Bane's church is very stable. There are no holidays in Bane's church; rather his followers show their gratitude through service, and the ritual torture of sentient beings.

Clerics of Bane can be recognized by a black enameled gauntlet worn on one hand.
Bane began his life as a human, where he forged an alliance with Bhaal and Myrkul. They decided to rule not only the world, but the heavens. They targeted the current god of death, Jergal.

Through Jergal's scheming, as he was tired of his crown, the three eventually overthrew him, dividing up his portfolio.
Dogma: "Serve no one but Bane. Fear him always and make others fear him even more than you do. The Black Hand always strikes down those who stand against it in the end. Defy Bane and die - or in death find loyalty to him, for he shall compel it. Submit to the word of Bane as uttered by his ranking clergy, since true power can only be gained through service to him. Spread the dark fear of Bane. It is the doom of those who do not follow him to let power slip through their hands. Those who cross the Black Hand meet their dooms earlier and more harshly than those who worship other deities."
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A Treatise on Magic and Morality - Aeilli Azenci

A Treatise On Magic and Morality
By Priestess Aeili Azenci
Published in the Year of the Crown, 1351 DR.
Introduction

What do you think of when you hear the word 'magic'? Does an image of some itinerant circus illusionist come to your mind? Perhaps you think of your town's local hedge wizard or clergyman, a mysterious figure surrounded with an aura of mystery and power.

Others have probably had more negative memories regarding magic. One thinks here of a deceitful potion numbing the inhibitions of a desired lover, or the calamitous power of a war wizard annihilating an entire army with only a handful of immensely powerful spells. Others may recall stories of ages ago, of empires which were based on magic only to come crashing down when that magic failed.

There is no question more discernably poignant than the place of magic in the Realms. On the one hand it is a mysterious, beautiful thing, capable of much good. It has created magical items which have defended kingdoms and slain dragons and repelled the forces of darkness throughout the ages.

On the other hand, though, it is a tool of potent destruction. Entire nations have been laid to waste by the use, or even misuse, of magic. Foul monsters are conjured to our world through magic, monsters far worse than those imagined in the darkest nightmares, whose presence alone causes light to tremble and fail.

The Morality of Magic

Where, then, is the morality of magic? Where do its lines blur from clear evil and unassailable good? Why does the Mother of All Magic, Mystra, even allow magic to be used for such detrimental purposes? Does she have no value for life? For justice?

It is questions such as these that I hope to answer in this book. Morality is a difficult subject at the best of times, but such difficult questions ought not be avoided: they strike at the very heart of our being, searching us, testing us and forming our perceptions of reality.

Of course, all such forays into morality are tempered with perspective. I make no qualms in announcing that this work seeks to find answers to the moral place of magic according to espoused Mystran ideals. Some of these ideas will no doubt find sour criticism. Others will resound with wholehearted approval. For this I make no apology, instead committing myself to faithfully representing my goddess even where they grind against my own conscience.

With this in mind, let us now consider what moral place magic has in the world in which we live. This work will approach this question from three major angles. The first is the historical origin of magic. This will prove to be important ground work, for it is not until we understand the history surrounding magic's beginnings that we can comprehend the place it now occupies in our world, the second angle I will use to analyse this topic. Lastly, we will think of magic's ethical place in Faerun's future.

The Nature of Magic Past

The true origin of magic is shrouded in a fair degree of mystery. Historians of this topic know that it is ancient, almost as old as the world, but they surmise there was a time when magic was not. There is one story passed down by the clerics of Selune that the first goddess of magic, Mystryl, was the unintentional byproduct of the eternal feuding between Selune and Shar. Mystryl was, on this account, the combination of the powers of light and dark and the balancing force between the two ancient sisters. Because of this, magic remains ever a force for the cosmic balance, being utilised to produce good and evil, promoting order and descending into chaos.

It was this accidental beginning which also formed what arcanists now call the Weave. The Weave is the complex 'fabric', for lack of a better analogy, of raw magic which is invisibly woven throughout the entirety of reality. Spellcasting is the particular act of drawing together the permeating strands of the Weave at a particular time and place, resulting in a particular effect depending on the somatic, verbal and, if necessary, material or focal components used in the act of spellcasting.

However, just as the weaving together of a carpet or garment may go awry by an inexperienced seamstress or tailor, so too can the fabric of the magical Weave be drawn together in such a fashion as to cause mistakes in its permeation of reality, resulting in undesired effects.

Moreover, deliberately reckless spellcasting can permanently damage or tear the fabric of the magical Weave, a fact we know from the event in -339 DR we now remember as Karsus' Folly. It is not precisely known what manner of spell Karsus created to provoke the direct intervention of Mystryl, but whatever it was resulted in a complete catastrophe for all involved.

Mystryl, the goddess of magic at that time, perished in her attempt to prevent the collapse of the Weave as a result of Karsus' spell. What was not evident until then was the fact that the goddess of magic is personally embodied in the magical Weave. With her death, the Weave collapsed anyway, resulting in the entire failure of all arcane magic across the Realms. The ancient Netherese Empire crumbled as their magically animated flying cities crashed to the ground.

These things reveal to us a few key factors in formulating an ethical basis from the history of magic. Magic, at its core, envelopes the spheres of good, evil, law, chaos and everything in between. It is an eternal balancing act to keep all of these in their proper place.

Secondly, the magical Weave is a means by which all things in the realms are connected to one another. History has already shown us what happens when this connectedness is broken. Catastrophe results where the fabric of the Weave is severely damaged, or when the Mother of all magic is disabled or slain.

A firm conscience would dictate that the pratice of magic ought to be partaken with care, dilligence and responsibility, lest a similar fate, or worse, be visited upon the perpetrators of a future mishap. The fate of all the Realms as we know it depends on a properly functioning magical Weave.

The Nature of Magic Present


In the days of ancient Netheril magic was far freer than it is now. There was no limit to the power or extent that magic could be utilised, which is why there were flying citadels in the skies at that time and there are not now. After the death of Mystryl a new goddess of magic formed from the embers of what remained of the Weave and began the long work of repairing the damage caused to the Weave by Karsus' Folly.

Mystra, the Lady of Mysteries, was this new deity and the new guardian of the Weave. Her first edict is known amongst scholarly circles as Mystra's Ban. Never again would a crisis of Karsus' magnitude be repeated because of a single, immensely powerful spell. All magic henceforth can no longer reach the level of power that the ancient Netherese had at their fingertips.

However, facts such as these have so far done little to assuage the moral conundrum of why Mystra yet permits all manner of magical research and practice in our current time. Stories about of vile creatures being summoned to our world from without and ravaging destruction upon it. Other stories speak of unnatural horrors being created from the dead, foul necromantic magics imprisoning the souls of the living and recently passed so that they may carry out their creator's wicked schemes.

I sincerely admit this is the most potent theodicy that can be raised against the ethical nature of magic in our day. Not only does Mystra not intervene in such cases, she more than likely will not. This is a horrid statement no doubt, so further explanation is necessary.

We must remember at all times that magic, at its very core, is a balancing act between the forces of light and darkness. Mystra's guardianship of the Weave goes so far as to maintain its integrity so that a greater global calamity than that of Karsus' Folly does not befall our world. Therefore, Mystra herself will not intervene in the use or abuse of magic insofar as it does not conflict with this, her primary purpose.

Having said that, I must add that it is the duty of her faithful to watch over the smaller matters of magic. It is the duty of her Church to seek out those adept in magic and encourage them to pursue it in a manner befitting the Lady of Mysteries. Moreover, her clergy endeavour to discover and intervene in plots or plans which utilise magic for ill purposes, especially the conjuring of creatures not native to our world.

The Nature of Magic Future


Some would suggest that a world without magic would in fact be an ideal one, for at last the imbalance and injustice it brings in our lives will be nullified. But such a statement ignores a glaring implication: a world thus devoid of the supposed injustice of magic would instead see the rekindling of the ancient fight between the primeval forces of Selune and Shar, a fight which was quelled somewhat when the goddess of magic and the Weave were born.

Secondly, the fact that Mystra permits a great variety of approaches to magic means that its power will never be wholly consolidated into the hands of a single elite ruling group. The constant progress and development of new kinds of magic means there will always be the potential to usurp those who disregard magic's inherent responsibility and seek it for its power alone.

Moreover, Mystra's role as guardian of the magical Weave and of magic leaves ample room for the servants of justice, as well as Mystra's Knights of the Mystic Fire Order, to apply their own wisdom to punish miscreants of magic howsoever they deem fit, remembering, however, that magic is as equally a force of good as it is a force of evil.
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A Wizard's Guide to Adventuring - Morgalia Verenach
by Morgalia Verenach

Introduction
So you've studied several simple spells, have your own spellbook and a heart for seeing the world. All good and well, but there are preparations to be made before you go out into the wide, dangerous world. You're no powerful Archmage yet, and while you might feel comfortable you can take on a bandit single-handedly, there are far more dangerous foes out there. Hopefully, this guide will help you on your first steps to become great in the Arcane Arts, and less dead in about a week's time! So let's get started!
Companions
The first step to learning more powerful magic... is to learn how to work with those that don't. Having companions with you to take blows as you concentrate, or help you see new places, find spell scrolls and learn the lay of the land, will help you greatly not only in the short term, but very much so in the long term. "But Morgalia", I hear you say. "I'm too ugly to have friends." or "I don't have any conversational skills!" or "I don't like working with others." Well, if providing your allies with wards and moral support isn't enough for you, I would recommend picking up one of the commonly sold 'Summon Creature' spells. Not only do they allow you to conjure a creature of your choice, and have that little bit of personalization, (the bat's always been a favorite of mine!) but they are a fairly decent replacement for that well-needed meatshield your skills so desperately crave. Be careful though, it takes quite a bit of tactical insight and verbal control of conjured creatures, otherwise they will simple not come to your aid while you are being pummeled by maces. And sometimes, well... sometimes they just do their own things. Even the greatest of wizards sometimes conjures a pet that seems to enjoy flying into walls, or chasing a squirrel while four enemies close in on you. In such cases, my advice is to...
Run
I know, exercise and jogging don't immediately come to mind when one is furthering their skill in the Arcane, but knowing when to back down from a fight is not only a good sense to have as a practicioner of the Arcane, but for a student of any kind. You cannot (yet) win any fight, conquer any foe, and oftentimes you'll find yourself outmatched faster than you can say 'Trolls buttocks'. If by now you've saved up enough money for more spell scrolls, consider spells like 'Invisibility' or 'Expeditious Retreat' to aid in fleeing from your doom. Once your mind and body area exhausted, or even one of the two, never EVER forget to...
Rest
As much as you might wish to fight that bandit to gain back your stolen gold, or get revenge on that kobold that bit your toe off, you need to rest. Meditation and sleep are an arcanist's best friend. Rest any time, every time. Learn comfortable ways to sit down in the wilderness. Bring food, water and a tent or a blanket with you at all times. Lean to clear your mind of distractions and this will not only help you with resting, but also with concentrating. Many apprentice wizards will find themselves swiftly drained, and need a warm tea and luxurious banquet before they can even think of casting two more spells. But for those desperate times, when you're out of mental stamina, yet this enemy persistently chases you, even though they are near death themselves, consider carrying with you a...

Spare Weapon
I know. You wanted to be a magician, blast your foes with fire and ice for eternity and watch them quiver before you, and hear the lamentations of their women, yada yada. But sometimes, you simply have to grab your staff, and crack something over the head. The most commonly preferred backup weapon for any wizard, is the heavy crossbow. Often rather heavy for the pathetic pieces of wet celery that some people call arms, they do pack a decent punch against kobolds or bandits and the like while your conjured pet is keeping them distracted. Do remember to shoot from the side of your pet, so you don't accidentally dismiss it, and if you have any spells that you believe might increase your accuracy, now would be the best time to make use of them. 'Magic Weapon', 'Cat's Grace' or 'Bull's Strength' spells can not only aid you in such endeavors, but especially so your allies. But no matter how much one might prepare, or how many companions one has, sometimes you just get that unlucky moment when an ogre comes around the corner and knocks you out. So if you haven't figured them out yet, it's definitely time to learn about...

Wards
Magical wards are a wizard's bread and butter. It is the mage's armor, and the reason people will care to bring your sorry arse along with them, anyways. You may think it's a chore to cast the same spell over and over, having nothing more to learn from the act of casting them, but my personal recommendation is to ward up whenever it is socially appropriate or legal, for you never know what dangers lie around the corner, even in areas where you might deem yourself 'safe'. An unprepared mage, is a dead mage. Some of the most well-known wards are 'Mage Armor' and it's Third Circle brother 'Improved Mage Armor'. Other crucial wards to begin with are 'Protection from Alignment' and 'Shield', which both have stronger versions of 'Magic Circle Against Alignment' and the quite powerful Seventh Circle 'Shadow Shield'. If you still don't think you have enough spells to aid you in your goals, you should definitely...

Ask your fellow Wizard
It is nearly impossible for practitioners of the Arcane Arts to know every single spell there is in existance, with perhaps the exception of Elminster himself. Therefore, it is not only recommended, but crucial that you talk shop with your fellow arcanists. Ask them for their favorite spells, and why they use them, think of how you can implement the spells they use in your own repertoire, or how you can improve on the vocalisation that they demonstrate. Another great method, though very expensive, is to request other wizards to scribe spells for you that you do not yet possess. You might be stingy with your gold, thinking: "But Morgalia, I need better equipment to deal with these terrors of the night!". Think again, doofus. A mage's first priority should always be their arsenal of spells, the fancy garbs and enchantments will come later, do not worry. Ability and improvisation are key to becoming successful in the Arcane Arts, which brings me to the final point in this book...

Magic isn't solely used for battle
Many mages in our time take specialisations, and I've had the privilege of meeting some that specialised in the art of pouring magical spells into alchemical brews, or in the enchanting of wondrous items with the use of rare and difficult-to-obtain ingredients. Schools of magic are all good and well if you wish to seek a specialization in that, but it never hurts to think of never-before used applications of magic. Many people scoff at the idea of someone using the Arcane in simple tasks as cooking or construction, but many such a uniquely gifted or specialized individual had the last laugh, and the thickest coin purse.

I hope this book has been of some use to you, reader. May Mystra guide your teachings to a better future for all!
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A Wizard's Journey Chapter I - Morgalia Verenach
by Morgalia Verenach

A compendium of legends and encounters along the Sword Coast, by Morgalia Verenach.

Introduction
It is Hammer, 1353 DR, and I find myself reflecting on last year, and what has been a long journey, full of incredible discoveries, dangerous encounters and friends that have gone their own ways in the world. This book does not contain glorifications of my own accomplishments, if any, but merely an attempt at chronicling what has been a very interesting time in my life, with many more amazing sights to come, I'm sure. It is my sincere belief that even if the knowledge within this volume is nothing new to some readers, that perhaps my observations may provide food or thought on topics that are still quite relevant to this day. Or, Gods be good, perhaps something I got jot down this day may save someone's life.

Beginnings
My true journeys along the Sword Coast began as a young Wizard's Apprentice from Luskan, the City of Sails as it's called, along the river Mirar on the North side of the Sword Coast. My older brother, named Karsus, was press-ganged into one of the many Luskan gangs, and the troubles that befell my family shortly after that would cause no end of grief. Suffice to say that after many years of enduring the hardships that befell us, I wished to be free of them and see more of the world, after making sure that at least my mother was in good hands. With what little coin I could gather, and a letter of recommendation from my former mentor, I sailed forth to Baldur's Gate with hopes of a new future, and ambitions of studying the Arcane Arts. For jealousy reigns fierce among the arcanists of Luskan. Many would be found dead, or had disappeared entirely around the time before I left, six months ago.
The Gate was gorgeous to behold, at first. An immense, densely populated city with beautiful, old buildings and much, much larger than Luskan. But finding work, or someone that cared to teach magic was difficult, to say the least. Baldur's Gate was slowly recovering from what had been a war with armies of the undead some time before. Later, I found out that this horde of the deathless was led by nothing more than a Netherese general, risen from the dead. And while he himself was surprisingly convinced to put an end to the horrible events that came before, another army had marched onto the Gate itself. The Gate prevailed, but such conflicts of a large scale always have their cost. Either way, it didn't take long before I began to seek my fortunes elsewhere, seeing plenty of mercenaries and adventurous types about, it was only a matter of time before my curiosity got the better of me, and I joined on my first expedition.
People often say 'oh, those adventurers this' and 'great, another adventurer', but the reasons of folk exploring the wilds varies almost as much as the people themselves, and I feel they shouldn't be generalized as such. For me, I suppose, it was the pursuit of the Arcane Arts in a more direct fashion than a proper teacher or school would suggest or recommend.
Nothing felt as exciting as battling creatures and finding lost spell scrolls to learn, for a time. Though not everyone gets excited when you blast a Fireball down a creature's lair, stirring them to the surface. Perhapes with my Luskan accent, the pronunciation of my spells might not be perfect, but you can bet on it that this lifestyle brings forth other ways to think about the Arcane. Not to mention the greater understanding and appreciation of those people gifted with special powers, wether by strange heritage or divine choice. Though even for an ambitious young mage with a gift for self-teaching... the unexpected can happen in the blink of an eye. The first notable encounter I can recall must be whilst I was practicing spells not too far from an old campfire near the the Friendly Arm Inn, a ways South of Baldur's Gate. A haven for travelling souls, with a history of people attempting to overtake the small fortress, whether successful or not. It was on a calm summer's day when I attempted to learn a simple Burning Hands spell, when something felt tingly and off in the air around me... and much warmer. Soon enough, I found myself nigh surrounded by a dozen wild fire elementals, scorching the nearby plantlife and decorations, and I wouldn't be here writing this today if not for a good amount of brave souls coming to my aid. (Or some with wishes to see me in irons, I suppose.) Suffice to say, more caution was used with learning spells, from that day onwards.
But even my greater caution would not suffice, and on another day, half a dozen frost elementals were chasing me through the thinned out woodlands after I'd learned several new spells. Of course, this time, people were a lot less lenient. A silver-haired woman in gleaming armour by the name of Alcarin Silversong approached me, and we began arguing at length. She saying that I shouldn't be allowed to practice the Arts, and I saying she was foolish for believing this was all even of my doing. But aas our arguing became more heated, and heated... the unexpected happened. not twenty paces from where we stood, a rift to the Plane of Shadow opened, and out came pouring dozens, if not hundreds of Shades, determined to sap the life out of anything living in the area. Not going to lie, I panicked and cast an Invisibility spell upon myself and ran, should anyone with a fanatic distaste for magicians begin spouting that this all was my fault. I stood no chance against the Shades back then, either way. Later on, I'd heard that a larger one, a Nightstalker appeared as well. And I felt quite guilty for not staying and fighting...

Over the course of time after that, numerous more spontaneous rifts were reported, some Elemental, but mostly of Shadow. And for a long while, I desperately and fanatically sought answers and insight, wishing to prove that I wasn't at fault. And though plenty of fol told me they didn't blame me, I didn't entirely believe their words. But, as most such inexplicable events go, their appearances and rumors concerning them waned, after a while. To this day I still blame remnant energies or disturbances within the Weave for the many battles that occurred in that area for the chaotic nature of temporary rifts. But I could also be wrong.

Looks can be deceiving.
A hard-learned lesson, this was. A lesson in paying attention, and knowing when to back away from a situation. (Or when to lend a helping hand...) It happened, as many strange things do, on the road near the Friendly Arm Inn, slightly Northwards of it. I had just come back from venturing into the dangerous Cloakwood Mines with some companions, and there was a woman standing there, before a large, sealed wagon pulled by two horses, now grazing on the side of the road. She was offering free pies for plenty of the weary adventuring fol near the Inn, and at first we didn't think much of it, of course. It was a relatively safe area, or so we thought, and surely some good can occur in the world without anything fishy going on, for once...

We sat down in the grass next to the road, smiling, throwing jests at eachother and enjoying the day, when suddenly Thessalia, a friend from those times, emptied the contents of her stomach onto the roadside. Glancing over immediately, I spotted what she's discovered: a human toe within the pie itself. When people began shouting accusingly towards the woman, she strangely made no effort to flee, and all she did was smile as she eerily stared at us. She did not even resist as I grabbed her by the hands, pulling them behind her back, and Thessalia, well... she made some minor alterations to the woman's face. Yet she didn't bulge an inch. We began calling for the guards to come over from the nearby Inn, but only received word that they wouldn't deal with trouble on the roads. I cannot fault them for making that call, I suppose. They weren't paid enough for what was to come.

As I held her restrained and Thessalia began questioning the woman, many other folk had gathered, but most were simply standing forty feet back, watching things unfold. Apathy and inaction are such a plague upon the world... but anyhow, some folk did begin investigating the wagon, but for some reason even with their combined skill, were unable to open it. The situation steadily grew more desperate, and I admit I got rather agitated at the inaction of about twenty people now gathered. I lost my temper, and attempted to cast a Dominate Person spell upon the woman, in order to open the cart. It was then that a chill ran down my spine, as from what I gathered from the Weave... this was an unsuitable target. The woman was not a person, at all.

Sadly, I did not get enough time to contemplate the perilous situation I now found myself in and, of course, without consulting me... someone cast a Dispell Magic upon the horses and cart. Upon which, the horses promptly turned into enormous Hell Hounds, and I was meekly clutching onto the hands of what now stood before me as an Erinyes, a fierce devil warrior and ensnarer of senses with female form and eagle-like wings, only more decrepit and corrupted. I was knocked unconscious for a time, whilst a large battle began before the Inn. Infernals came pouring from the wagon, which had a much larger interior filled with captured folks, and spells and brimstone were flung about, wildly cascading across the road. I had gotten back just in time to see a Pit Fiend loom forward from the wagon, and I swiftly turned myself into a giant Gargoyle to stand toe to toe with it. Though even my claws of stone didn't do much at all to this grand creature, it gave others enough time to damage it significantly, and ultimately send it back to the Hells.
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A Wizard's Journey Chapter II - Morgalia Verenach
by Morgalia Verenach

A compendium of legends and encounters along the Sword Coast, by Morgalia Verenach.

Enchanting and horrifying
Not too far from the Gate, in the small hamlet of Ulgoth's Beard, lives a great Gnomish enchanter by name of Fizzle (whom never parted his family name with me, for privacy reasons). Weaving magical artifacts of great power, with beautiful magic and excellent craftsmanship, does take its price in materials however. And thus, while many came to commission the Gome for their works, a great many rare materials were needed. I had the privilege to be on a few of these, myself. And I remember quite well the day Fizzle said "Bring me the feather of a Roc", upon which my jaw dropped in surprise. For those unaware, a Roc is the name for an enormous eagle-like bird, larger than a proper fortress and commonly also larger than dragons. Yet still, my fellow adventurers were determined, and naturally I jumped aboard this ordeal, as I was eager to do so in my earlier days in the region. And so, our group ventured out deep into Amnian lands...

We teleported straight into the windy, snowy cliffsides of the Cloud Peak mountains, and for the first few moments we ventured down a path, fighting off mountain cats and other beasts alike. But the gentle sound of crunching footsteps in the snow, announced that we were not here, alone...

I had cast a common Blindsight spell upon me, to reveal a Thayan man in red robes, bald with tattoos standing before us with a common greeting. Khazark Kahanak Habdilof of the Thayan Enclave of Baldur's Gate had taken an interest in our little journey, and after a slight moment of distrust by the group, they decided to simply ignore his presence. Venturing deep into the mountains, through unforgiving winds and never-ending snowfall, our presence was eventually met by a pair of white dragons and their snarls, talons digging deep into the snow as the ground rumbled with their presence...

...and before I could even react, spells were flung about cascading across the mountainsides, echoing on into the distance. Within the blink of an eye, my companions had felled these two dragons, and for the first time in a while, I felt completely outmatched in skill. With some clever scouting, soon enough we spotted a mountaintop in the distance, and the legendary creature in our sight. A whole nest of them. Discussion began on how exactly we were to extract a feather from there, as the mountainside seemed unclimbable for far too long, steep sharp cliffs as far as the eye could see. But a clever magician by name of Thessalia simply send forth a conjured astral bat to fetch a feather, completely undisturbed within the nest like an ant in someone's bed sheets. No doubt, should the Rocs have been angered or alerted to our presence, we would've had the fight of our lives on our hands.
Eventually, the time came for my own assignment, as I'd commissioned an item from Fizzle myself, a robe of greater power than the one I used to possess. And for this, Fizzle required a most unpleasant reagent that was extraordinarily difficult to obtain... the mucus of an Aboleth.

The journey began at the docks of Baldur's Gate, where the ship The Twilight Rose was used to sail out to sea, to a location I'd previously uncovered in Ulgoth's Beard from the last remaining crewman of a sunken vessel, assaulted by the very beast I was chasing. Warded against influence on the mind, we sailed for what seemed like ages. Certain that I was at the correct location, it was suggested we drink potions of waterbreathing to delve into the deep dark of the ocean below.
Something that would likely be a suicide mission if there was indeed an Aboleth, below...

Down into the depths we went, with naught but a rope to bring us back to the surface, and immediately the signs of old shipwrecks could be seen. But before our minds could be at awe of our surroundings, our gazes shifted to humanoid, black, shambling masses ahead of us. A small army of the drowned, living dead. Underwater battle is quite different, as sounds are heard otherwise, it takes more strength to move about and spellcasting, with waterbreathing in place, requires a great deal of effort and focus. Through dozens upon dozens of the black dead we fought, pirates and privateers of old. Lost souls whom fell to Umberlee's grasp, close to the lair of the great and terrible beast. Until, at last... we saw it. The disemboweled hulls of ancient, wrecked ships strewn about on the ocean floor, with glitters of treasures galore, and menacingly floating above it all... sat the Aboleth, an eerie, blackish liquid aura around it that was unmistakenly the mucus I was sent to find, the creature itself with an enormous gaping mouth and a body like a warped octopus like something out of a nightmare. If not for the wards, it would've likely gotten us then and there, but we couldn't find it's eyes looking back at us... instead... it seemed Tymora favored us that day. For the beast was sound asleep, growing larger and smaller with what must've been either a thick heartbeat, or large breathing. Slowly, our footsteps moved through the littered sands, going in position to ambush the beast, as such was our only chance.

With the time to prepare, and the proper application of force... the beast was slain in a matter of seconds, a daring, fast battle that happened in the blink of an eye. We were victorious, but it wasn't yet the time to celebrate, as we grabbed what treasures we could, and retreated back to the rope that would safely bring us aboard again. The black, drowned dead watched and followed us as we departed, but we were too quick in leaving, and thus we returned home victorious, with gold in our hands and I with many vials of the mucus I required. It was like one of those old pirate tales of defeating a legend, and returning home with wealth.

This was definitely one of my greater adventures at sea, and to this day, in Alturiak, 1353 DR. Fizzle is still in Ulgoth's Beard, one of the greatest enchanters I've had the pleasure of meeting. And my robes were, of course, nothing to complain about. Despite being partially made of mucus.
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Adfectus Imperium - Cecilia Lafayette
by Cecilia Lafayette

== Possession and Symptoms ==
Adfectus Imperium is an indirect possession of the host by the Cornugon; elite of the Baatezu. As few possessions can occur without manifestation in the host, and given that there have only been two recorded cases of Adfectus Imperium within the last ten years, it is considered extremely rare.

The possession itself is parasitic in nature, meaning the devil is likely to seek out those of stronger will whom will endure the torments upon them and 'feed' rather than control. In manipulating and instilling reactions, the fiend saps the lifeforce from the host and grows stronger. However, the host does not fall victim to control like many other possessions, retaining their own functions and thoughts.

These can be anything from the manifestation of night terrors, mood swings and haunting or terrifying imagery. The host I encountered suffered from both night terrors based around erinyes, and the echoeing laughter and voice of a Cornugon within her mind. The lack of sleep, and strain both mentally and emotionally led to a weakness of the body.

== Effects and Treatment ==
If left untreated the fiend eventually devours the soul of the victim leaving them apathetic to the point where they wither to nothingness; ending in death. The time in which it takes to reach this point depends on the willpower of the host.

All manner of spells and blessings seme negated in attempts to soothe the host. Working only temporarily, if at all. This includes prevention methods such as rituals of calm sleep, and protective barriers - both which the devil is able to penetrate. While such remains a mystery it is surmised possible due to the location of the Cornugon which is believed to extend it's reach from the fourth layer of the hells; Phlegethos.

Ridding the host of Adfectus Imperium is a complicated matter, with so few cases it is deemed that the only possible methods of removal lay in exorcism.

== Exorcism ==
There are three known ways in which one may be exorcised of Adfectus Imperium, each of them bearing their own weighted consequences.

The first is to confront the Cornugon at it's source. This method is both clean and has the highest recorded success rate for this type of possession. It is, however, a dangerous endeavour. The elite of the Baatezu are cunning foes and delight in the challenge brought to their feet. Even veteran Dawnknights will struggle to fell such a beast if unprepared. As many believe Adfectus Imperium is an assault directly from the hells, such a confrontation would likely have to occur outside our prime material. To perish in such a place would prevent ones soul from ever reaching the side of their chosen god.

In this particular instance it is believed that the Cornugon's presence is located in Phlegethos which is rumored to a world of fire and ash, dotted with volcanoes and magma filled crevices according to the works of Morninglord Rayne Forlawn. This remains unconfirmed, however.

The second method of exorcism is an Ilmateri ritual. Simple in nature, the priest draws the fiend into his own person and thus takes on the burden of the host. This does not, however, destroy the fiend nor banish it, instead simply transferring it and leading to the eventual death of the exorcist. The Ilmateri feel as though this is justified as a pure and willing soul is given, rather than the innocent or unwilling (in most cases).

High Morninglord Hogran Stormcastle wrote on this method, deeming it unacceptable as it merely trades a life for a life; the fiend victorious.

Thus, those of the Lathanderite faith attempted to come up with a more suitable form of exorcism outside the norm; one which could combat such an unnatural possession. This brings us to the third method of exorcism. Ten years ago, Father Reinhart Barrowin came close to succeeding with an exorcism based on faith. While faith is the primary method of exorcising a fiend, and something a number of Lathanderites specialise in, Adfectus Imperium seemed resistant to the usual methods and the ritual was adapted.

The method which Father Barrowin developed was successful to some extent. By calling upon the Morninglord during a ceremony between dawn and high noon, he severed the link between host and devil - the woman indeed freed of her burdens. In the weeks that followed, however, side-effects of paranoia for both host and exorcist became apparent. There was a heavy decline in mental stability, the host withdrawing from civilisation to live out her days in a forest cabin and the exorcist had to regrettably be put down.

It is unclear exactly what caused such extreme declines for the two, or whether the trauma could have been overcome with proper treatment. This ritual was the one chosen by my patient, knowing what it entails and possible consequences. The exorcism was completed twelve hours ago, and at the time of scribing this page none of the expected side effects have become apparent. We pray this continues.

Having now been through only the second of this particular ritual, it cannot yet be fully commented on regarding its safety and success. The task was a draining one, full of horrors specific to each person involved. A devil was slain, however, and the host seems well. We must take this as a good sign.

== Conclusion ==
Adfectus Imperium remains one of the date, rare in cases and in the knowledge that surrounds it. Defining the how and the what of the matter remain tasks which have yet to bare solid weight, and it is quite possible the effects differ from not only host to host, but devil to devil and with each exorcist.

What we have confirmed, however, is the form of possession itself and what was uncovered through both research and personal experience; in doing so perhaps providing future knowledge and hope for those who may feel the burdens of such in future.

The deep dark before Dawn's first light seems eternal, but know that the sun always rises.

== Afterword ==
This reasearch-based tome was written by Cecilia Lafayette, Dawnbringer of Lathander and Priestess of the Song of the Morning. It's contents are a culmination of works by High Morninglord Hogran Stormcastle, Morninglord Logran Derwich, Morninglord Rayne Forlawn and Father Reinhart Barrowin in addition to her own research and experiences.

It is dated in The Drawing Down of the year 1350 DR.

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An Adventurer's Guide to Baldur's Gate and the Sword Coast South- Hendrick Dolban
by Hendrick Dolban

Volume One: Baldur's Gate and Environs

Author's Foreword
Well met, brave adventurer!
You have set yourself apart from your reckless and, may I say, more foolish companions by purchasing this volume of my Adventurer's Guide.
May it serve you well in your travels, and ensure you reference it well, such that your compatriots realise the error of their misguided ignorance and also purchase copies for themselves.
Your friend in adventure,
Hendrick Dolban

Please note: I accept no responsibility for bodily or mental injury or death that may result from experiencing the things described in these pages. Adventure is, by its very nature, a dangerous business, and those unfamiliar with peril should enjoy this work comfortably at home.
The City of Baldur's Gate

A bustling port and merchant city (though not a patch on your author's fair Zazesspur), Baldur's Gate was founded by, and is named for, the legendary hero Balduran.

In ancient times, Balduran returned from the mythical land of Anchorome with great wealth, financing the construction of a great wall along the River Chiontar about twenty miles inland from the Sea of Swords.

Balduran subsequently vanished, and local farmers took control of the wall, ruthlessly taxing sea trade until they were overthrown by four sailors who named themselves the first Dukes of Baldur's Gate.

The city is guarded and protected by a powerful and well-equipped mercenary company known as the Flaming Fist, Eltan, is one of the four current Dukes of the city. The others being Belt, a retired adventurer, Liia Jannath, a wizardress, and the merchant Entar Silvershield.

The city is part of the Lord's Alliance, and as such enjoys trade with Waterdeep, Neverwinter and others. It also boasts one of the Sword Coast's first Thayan enclaves, where I am told the astute can purchase all manner of magical goods at a fair price. However, the enclave's store is currently closed.

In recent years, Baldur's Gate went to war with the southern nation of Amn, and relationships between the two powers remain strained to this day. However, travel south to the Amnish territories of Beregost and Nashkel remains unimpeded. The city itself is a relatively safe haven, for the Flaming Fist polices its streets visibly.

Rogues and miscreants can be most commonly found in the Docks, where the Fist's headquarters also stand guard. This presence has forced many of the worst offenders to take up residence in the sewers alongside other filth.

They share this dank setting with countless rats, including some such rodents of unusual size.

Unfounded rumors of loathsome slime creatures and strange reptilian monsters stalking the tunnels also surface from time to time, though your good author did not relish trudging through dirt and filth to chase after peasant's tales. Outside the city's walls, the descendants of the greedy farmers who sought to steal Balduran's city still ply their meagre trade. Your author understands that hard conditions, coupled with their innate lust to place their grubby peasant hands on finery, has led many to pursue a dishonest life of banditry.

The fields north of the city are also plagued by wolves, mostly mangy, half-starved creatures that should pose little threat to a capable adventurer. The climate also supports wild deer, reptiles including some venomous species, and an assortment of smaller vermin, including one variety able to magically transport itself through the ether. One is recommended to treat these magical beasts with caution, though a stout sword should put a stop to their villainy. East of the city lies Baldur's Gate's graveyard, a chapter house of the noble Order of the Radiant Heart, and an attached orphanage run by the Church of Ilmater.

The graveyard itself is currently plagued by an epidemic of undeath, with the fallen rising again to torment the living. It seems likely that dark magic is behind this curse, for no matter how many of the walking dead are put to rest, more rise in their place.

One popular theory lies in the proximity of Baldur's Gate to the Fields of the Dead, a huge former battlefield similarly plagued by the undead, where a powerful lich is rumored to make his lair. Your author's good friends in the Order of the Radiant Heart often make forays into this bleak land to quell the risen dead.

The River Chionthar runs twenty miles West towards the Sea of Swords, with the fishing village of Ulgoth's Beard situated on the coast. The River Chionthar runs twenty miles West towards the Sea of Swords, with the fishing village on the coast. The road between Baldur's Gate and Ulgoth's Beard runs along the banks of the river, with wild boar and huge spiders dwelling in the wooded hills back from the water's edge.

The village itself is most often frequented by those wishing to catch large sport fish such as marlin off the docks, though one should not overlook the trout lake or well-stocked tavern. While it has been host to pirate and barbarian raids in the past, Ulgoth's Beard is usually a peaceful place.

A tribe of northern barbarians calling themselves the Greyfox once made their camp atop the cliffs above the village, though they have since taken their tents and loud voices further inland along the river.

South of Baldur's Gate, the great bridge of Wyrm's Crossing traverses the River, linking the city to the Trade Way. A caravan stop on the far side of the river is occasionally frequented by travelers. About a mile east of the Trade Way, the ruin of an abandoned hill fort stands watch over the plains.

Displaying architectural features reminiscent of both human and dwarven civilisation, the fort's provenance is unknown, but it has more recently been overrun by kobolds and their filth. Many apprentice adventurers have made small fortunes liberating stolen goods from the kobolds, but more have succumbed to the malodorous pox that infects the little monsters. Deeper into the depths, a cave system houses the lairs of lesser fiends - principally vile imps with magical powers and strange spiked beasts known as bladelings. There is even tell of a dragon's roost and treasure in the depths, and the bravest of the brave may wish to go down further still, where the caves seem to connect to the Dark Below, where giant bats and even wicked dark elves may be found.

This section of the depths runs many miles under the surface of the Sword Coast, emerging near the Friendly Arm Inn.
Be sure to purchase the second volume of the Adventurer's Guide, to learn of the countless horrors that haunt the Tradeway, and the dark forests of the Cloakwood and the Wood of Sharp Teeth.

Safe adventuring!
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Edelgarde Spades - Guide of Candlekeep and Deneirrath priest, still a Disney princess in the wrong tale.

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