Candlekeep Public Collection Reference

[Almarea90]

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Duskwalker on Orcs
by Marneiros Duskwalker
PROLOGUE

I have killed a great many orcs in my life. This book is supposed to be a useful and comprehensive source of information for everyone eager for knowledge.

Although I do firmly believe there is, or at least can be, good and bad in all races, orcs are the foot soldiers of evil, the creatures that make up the hordes of darkness that threaten to overwhelm the good peoples and turn the entire land into a region of little else than slaughter and depravity.
Shallow as they are individually, ruts on most roads have more depth and complexity; orcs as a people are a bit more unusual than that. They have a society all of their own, that is often misunderstood or entirely ignored by the people who war against them. After all, when most heroes are fighting for their lives, they usually do not stop to have a conversation with their attackers, and orcs are not great conversationalists by any account.

The insight found in this book was collected from the hard-won knowledge of the people I have spoken to but also from already existing sources of information like other books. As I always like to say, "You have to know your foe!".

CHAPTER 1 - ORC PHYSIOLOGY AND SOME BASICS OF ORCISH SOCIETY

Tall, wide and made of muscles, orcs seem as if they were built for war. According to some legends, they actually were.

In any case, orcs stand from five to seven feet tall, although they often seem much shorter as they have a tendency to slouch or hunch over, especially when charging into battle.

Orc skin colour ranges from green to grey. Their hair is normally dark and coarse and can be anything from dark blond to jet-black.

The eyes of an orc can be any colour, from a pale blue to a pitch-black. They sometimes come in crimson, which most orcs take to be the sign of great strength. Many orc leaders have been blessed with such eyes.
All orcs can see well in the dark, as finely as any dwarf.

Orc males have hair over almost their whole bodies. Thies is thick, coarse and almost always brown or black. Many older orcs sport beards as well, but these do not come in as full as that of a dwarf or gnome.

Orcs ears are pointed ant their noses are usually flat and upturned, exposing their nostrils, which flare widely when the orc is angry. They also have sharp, pointed teeth set in a horrible underbite. Their lower jaw is thrust out harshly, exposing the long tusks that jut out past their lower lip, often far enough to nearly touch the orc's nose. This all makes orcs look as if they were humans crossed with wild boars.

The lives of most orcs are brutal and short, few can expect to live much longer than 40 years. Orcs breed like mad to make up for this, as many younger orcs never make through their childhood. Orc babies are born after only six months in the womb and they reach sexual maturity by the age of eight.

The sexual promiscuity that runs through orc culture leads to the birth of many children.
Female orcs usually are treated as not much more than cooks and mothers. But most of them accept that role without much complaining and are raising their children in the very cruel way that is the one of the orcs. Orcs do not marry and from and break relationships with each other as it suits them, which somewhat explains why female orcs do not have a very high standing in their society.

Orcs are not terribly smart, but you should still never underestimate them. If nothing else, there could be an exception to the rule in front of you!
Raw, brute strength is generally what is most important to them though. A kind of animal cunning can help them too, but most orcs do not have the patience to bother with anything so complex as a scheme. You could sum them up with three Fs: food, fighting and fornicating.

Orcs are unifomly bullies, which means in their hearts they are cowards. If you are fighting them, this can be an advantage. They do tend to underestimate a foe of superior strength, even more so when they are in a group. But once again do not get arrogant yourself, as especially their leaders usually tend to be the most cunning or brutal ones and can therefore be the whip that forces them into a greater menace. A menace which can wipe out the unprepared easily.

Although I may possibly write in greater depth on the many more things to be said about orcish society in a second volume, let me continue with the actual main chapter of this book. The chapter that should help you to be prepared and not let orcs be your downfall!

CHAPTER 2 - COMBAT TIME

As I have already told you, most orcs are cowards individually. Part of the reason why they usually prefer to form warbands or even greater groups. This does not mean, that even a single orc can be quite a threat, as orcs are still almost war machines. The following information is therefore a guideline for fighting not entire army of orcs, as at least a highly disciplined group of veterans if you want to succeed.

Orcs mostly like to use the common weapons of brutes. May it be large greataxes, may it be warmaces. With regards to their armors they most often tend to stick with the most heavy they can get. Furthermore they like to wear them in rather shrill colors, most likely a poor but still sometimes successful attempt to distract their enemies.
Remember, there are exceptions to the rule. Be wary of everything that feels or looks out of the ordinary!

Although orcs mostly lack finesse, this does not make them easy foes of course. Nevertheless that opens up quite some opportunities to best them with the right tactics.

Depending on the weapons you use, try to use their strength and bruteness against them.
If you are an archer, you can use the power of bowpremacy to the fullest. Shoot them from afar, preferrably from a superior position. Quite often this will be some kind of high ground.
If your positioning is right, you should be able to best many orcs before they are able to reach you.
When you engage them in melee, try to parry their blows or evade them entirely, as the raw strength put behind them always comes with a lack of accuracy. This lack of accuracy will let them exposed to your counterstrike when they missed their blow. Try to strike them in their most vulnerable spots now open to you.

Be aware, that even orcs do have some spellcasters, often shamans of sorts. These ones you should try to kill first. A great many unwary adventurers have been slain just because they did not realize the big threat magic is in general or at least can be. Even an orcish warband realizes that and tries to protect their spellcasters accordingly.

CHAPTER 3 - PANTHEON OF THE ORCS

The gods orcs worship and pray to are of the violent and unpleasant kind. The pantheon consists of a total of six gods. In this chapter I try to give you some background information about them:

1. Gruumsh, who is the head of the orcish pantheon. With no surprise, a cruel god, one of conquest. He told his followers to do mainly the following: "Gather and breed, and your numbers will flourish", "Rise up in hordes and seize that what is rightfully yours" and "Raid. Kill. Conquer".

2. Luthic, who is the mate of Gruumsh and is known as the cave mother. She represents fertility, medicine, females and servitude. In the way orcs understand these aspects of course.

3. Baghtru, who is the god of pure physical strength. He is a loyal servant of Gruumsh and his followers are most often the strongest and cruelest ones amongst the orcs.

4. Ilneval, also known as the Lieutenant of Gruumsh. A god of war and considered the patron of some orc crossbreeds, such as orogs and tanarukks.

5. Shargaas, deity of darkness, night, stealth, thieves and undead.

6. Yurtrus, the god of death and disease. He is depicted as an orcs whose body was covered with sores, excepting his hands, which were with and unblemished.

Now that you know the orcish pantheon, dear reader, you certainly understand even more, why orcs tend to be the bloodthirsty and violent race they are. The socialization of their religious believes play a big part in it without question.

CHAPTER 4 - HOPE

Although the history between elves and orcs, actually between all races and the orcs, has always been a bloody one, you might ask, if there is hope for a better future? As much as I am very sceptical, I think there always is. Nothing has to stay like it is. Life is fluent. I do concur, that almost everything might indicate otherwise, but even I have met something like a good orc. Trying to get distance from the vile and evil orcish society is how it is, orcs in general being nothing more than evil raiders and murderers, is highly likely. But giving up hope, not believing in the possibility of change, is a too sinister thought. Everything and everybody can change, given enough time and effort!

EPILOGUE

Although this might not be the last volume of "Duskwalker on Orcs", I hope you already found the information in this book to be of use to you.

A special thanks you goes to old and longtime friends or even more of mine:

Sirion, whose council was and still is always appreciated and agreed to redact this book immediately. It would not be nearly as good without his help!

My former teacher Viridiana, who taught me to become an arcane archer. I would not be the man I am now without her. May her time in Silverymoon be a joyful and happy one!

Derik and Lannia, the rather unlikely couple. You two are just great, together and apart!

Alexandra, the Guide of Candlekeep. Would not have written this book without you.

Last but not least, Jane. May you be whatever you were ought to be! Opinions of others can be a difficult thing, but you should listen to the calling of your heart.
There is always room for hope and happiness, as unlikely as it sometimes appears to be!

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[Almarea90]

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Ending and Beginnings
A Book of Songs
by Endelyon

Dedicated to Heather. I owe you the world.

There is little I can say about the words on the following pages. I did not write all of these myself, but the music of our souls is a collaborative effort, as much so as the songs that I learned from the soldiers and sailors in the bustling taverns in the south in my youth.

You should never let your heart become so clouded with hatred and fear that you run out of room for music. Even the darkest, most unfeeling soul still knows both joy and tragedy, deep inside. If your feelings have become frozen, it is my hope that the warmth of these songs can melt that ice away.

Farewell For Now

Endelyon
Surely you know how proud of you I've grown
Listen, my girl, tomorrow I go and leave you to fend on your own

Mother
I'm still your girl, you should feel no fear
I'd rather give up on this world
Than give up the things we held dear

Our lords can command us to fight for their standards, and many good people will go

But no one has the power even in this darkest hour, to make me leave you alone

Mother
As I lie here, I hear the soldiers cries
They are close now, my heart fills with fear
and the tears are stinging my eyes

Endelyon
You've made me proud
You live like the daughter I've known
Try to speak up, for the battle is loud
And your voice is a sweet soothing tone

Our lords can command us to fight for their standards, and many good people will go

But no one has the power even in this darkest hour, to make me leave you alone

Endelyon...
[A note is made here that an entire verse should be waited before continuing]

Mother
This isn't goodbye, it's farewell for now
One day we'll be together once more
I swear on our love and with my heart I vow
I won't die here, I'll open my wings and soar

Our lords can command us to fight for their standards, and many good people will go

But no one has the power even in this darkest hour, to make me leave you alone

***

A Traveling Song

I'm a traveling troubador
Selling my songs from door to door
As I journey down long dusty road

I sing in the bars
And sleep beneath stars
And please the soldiers who come from afar

Couth or uncouth
I give them my youth
And a song to remember me by

I'll sing you the songs that my heart can't contain
Songs about things you may never hear of again

I'll sing you the songs that my heart can't contain
Songs about things you may never hear of again

For the food I can't pay, and I really can't stay
Because your wife will be waking up soon

But before I go, I really must show
How much I cherish all you've done for me

So I'll make love to you
And when we're through
You can lay back and I'll sing you a song

I'll sing you the songs that my heart can't contain
Songs about things you may never hear of again

I'll sing you the songs that my heart can't contain
Songs about things you may never hear of again

That you may never hear of again

But before I go, I really must show
How much I cherish all you've done for me

And for the food I will pay, if you'll only come lay
If you'll come lay down with me

And I'll make love to you
and when we're through
I'll sing you a traveling song

I'll sing you a song of other times and place,
and sights you may never see

I'll sing you a song of other times and places
and things you may never...

That you may never hear of again

***

The Harp

One evening as I made my way
Music came from a tavern door
There I heard a harpist play
To the drunks and the evening (germbag)

I closed my eyes and saw my home
That joyous place I used to roam
and there before my enchanted eyes
Danced my long dead wife

And I trembled, yes I trembled and cried,
to see my dead wife dancing before my eyes

I begged the boy to sell to me
That glorious enchanting harp

"I'll never part from it," said he
"These strings are tied around my heart"

So I raised my fist and struck him down
And hurried home by the back of town
I played it myself or so I planned
And forget his cold dead hands

Yes I struck the boy down
Yes I struck the boy down

But it was all for the chance
To see my beloved dance
As soon as I learned to play

I tried to bring the visions back
To find the harp's sweet voice again
But after weeks I finally cracked
The harp must known I killed its friend

So I broke it up and put it to flame
But what I saw there caused such pain
The boy and the harp danced bright as life
And so too did my wife

They were dancing, together...
They were dancing, together...

...Forever.

***

Take One Step

Summer nights, city lights
Path lit up by starlight

Swaying to that gentle breeze
As it whistles through the trees

I look and smile and think of friends
Walk around another bend
and wonder where my journey ends

Why am I here? Where I'm even going?"

I take one step and my feet move me forward
I take one step and my feet move me forward

Keep moving forward...

This place is new, these things are new
The dreams we're left with seem so few
What is there I can do? How will I get to you?

The tears roll down, my eyes are burning
and I wonder "will I even make it through?"

I take one step and my feet move me forward
I take one step and my feet move me forward

Another mile, another smile
I keep on wandering a while

The rain keeps falling on my heart
and I'm so scared, I left my home so unprepared
My feet are tired, I feel impaired
but how can I leave my love undeclared?

I take one step
and my feet move me forward

I take one step
and my feet move me forward

One more step... and I move forward.

***

When Dreams Take Wing

In your dreams, magical thoughts
All things are real unless you dream they're not!

In your dreams love is the plot
Carried on wings of hope

Each of our souls intertwine when we do
Instantly we see it, the time to grow and be it
When everything is pinned on a hope

Let rise the dreams of your heart
That innocent youth, careless and kind
Free to roam the breeze in love

Only when two... Brilliantly shine... As one!

In your dreams, your thoughts become real
Love carries on and hope turns the wheels

In your dreams you dance under the stars
Rising on wings of hope

Each of our dreams intertwine when we do
Forever we can see it, it's past time that we free it
When our love is pinned on a hope

Let rise the dreams of your heart
Innocent youth, careless and kind
Free to roam the breeze in love

Only when two... Brilliantly shine... As one!

***

Shooting Star

Wishing on a dream that seems far off
Hoping it will come today

Into the star-lit night
Foolish dreamers turn their gaze

Waiting on a shooting star

But... what if that star is not to come?
Will their dreams fade to nothing?

When the horizon darkens most
We all need to believe there is hope

Is an angel watching closely over me?
Can there be a guiding light I've yet to see?

I know my heart should guide me but
There's a hole within my soul

What will fill this emptiness inside of me?
Am I to be satisfied without knowing?

I wish, then, for a chance to see
Now all I need...

Desperately...

Is my star to come

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[Almarea90]

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Essential Guide to Tea Making
Adallan's Essential Guide to Tea Making

A Guide by Adallan Ragnon, Acolyte of Candlekeep

Some find tea to be repulsive. Some even find it to be repugnant. It is true that in no language does the phrase "As amazing as tea" exist, at least to my knowledge. However, there also exists no phrase equated to how life is as terrible as tea. In my humble opinion, I would state that the overall view of tea in the world is rather middle-of-the-road.

Now that such is established, let me guide you, reader, on a journey on how to make tea something a bit more extravagent, and change this view that tea is mediocre. For when tea is prepared properly, there are few things so pleasant as it.

First, of course, are the types of tea used. In Calimshan, they will use a blend of teas, primarily. In Mulhorand, they will dry the leaves using the sunlight. In Cormyr, they enjoy a large variety. Elsewhere has something to offer, with each giving a slightly different taste, be it bitter, sweet or even prepared in a way that is altogether different.

Tea 1 - A Calimshan Green Tea Blend

For my first tea, I simply must recommend this. It is one of my favorites, and a true testiment to how tea truly is a wonderful thing.

Tea making, in general, is quite simple. One boils water, one places leaves into it, and one lets it steep for a time. For the blend, I recommend crushing the leaves, and placing them in a bag that does not impart its own taste to the tea. Without a bag, placing the leaves is fine, insofar as one can filter them out after.

After placing them in, it is my humble recommendation to let them steep in the boiling water for 2 or 3 minutes, but no longer! More than this is right out, and may give reason for a phrases involving one's mother, an ogre, or a weasel's foot. Instead, simply remove the bags, or filter out the leaves, and keep the tea warm. This particular tea is best served plain, with perhaps a bit of honey. Cream is optional, though not entirely recommended for this particular blend.

Tea 2 - Cormyr Grey

Cormyr Grey Tea will always have a special place in my heart. In this case, it also has a special place in my stomach. With these instructions, good reader, it will also have a special place in yours, I hope.

Cormyr Grey Tea is a very particular tea, and requires more instruction than others, or it too could be subject to insults about one's heritage, a frost giant's wooden spoon, or even a kobold's unbathed uncle. Suffice to say, we will try to avoid that, especially the kobold's uncle.

Cormyr Grey Tea is best prepared with clean, non-boiled water, using a glass, or magically-sealed steel container. The water should be heated just until it begins to boil, then remove it quickly! Any longer is right out, and could ensue in such aforementioned insults. The leaves, likewise, should be steeped for three to five minutes, though this time can vary somewhat for the taste. Any variations, however, are subject to judgement.

Bitter.

Unrelenting.

Judgement.

Past this, Cormyr Grey Tea can be served with cream, sugar, honey, or any variation thereof. Vanilla or lavender are also welcome infusions within the tea.

Tea 3 - Mulhorandi Sun Tea

Mulhonandi Sun Tea is a wonderful variation from the norm, and can provide a nice change of pace, if one is preparing tea on a regular basis.
Unlike other teas, this is brewed at whatever temperature it happens to be outside, unless, of course, you are a fire giant, fire salamander, or a man who has taken to setting himself on fire accidentally. You know who you are.

Simply place the tea, and I recommend a Mulhorandi Black Tea, in a glass container, proportioned depending on how strong you would like it. Let it sit for two to three hours. If you cannot wait that long, you may consider making a second tea while you wait. You can sweeten it with sugar while it is sitting, if you like. Afterwards, simply filter, or remove the tea as you see fit, then enjoy.

Final Thoughts

With that, my good reader, you have either begun your journey into tea making, considered using the phrase "as terrible as tea," or were an impatient reader who skipped to the last page.

For all but the last of these, thank you for considering my book. For the page skippers, allow me to present you with one spoiler - The tea maker does not die in the end (unless you were the one on fire, but we cannot cover everyone).

Fin

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Eva
by Alessia

Chapter I: Crimson and Snow

Snow fell silently over the courtyard that midnight. It was one of the only beauties of being so far from the river; winter came, and winter came well.
Though moonlight broke through the thick clouds in small beams that eve, it did not matter, the dark was strong this evening, but also something that never frightened her. Just the same world, after all, but in shades of gray instead of color. The small girl - perhaps nine years old - wandered from the shelter of the stone porch, her bare feet leaving small tracks in the virgin snow. She was washed white, like the world around her; fair porcelain skin, pale golden hair, and a simple white nightgown. Her silver eyes were glassy, and tears still fell from the day.
Her descent was reserved, as her eyes slowly came to look with wonder upon the beauty around her. The falling snow clung to her pale features, and she waded through the white with ease. Cold, but the cold never quite bothered her.
At the foot of the stairs, she offered a reluctant bright smile to the sky. Raising her hands above her, the girl twirled about through the powder, kicking up clouds of ice with each prance. This was the first wonderful memory in a long time; a perfect place, at a perfect time.
For the briefest of moments, the girl forgot her troubles and her sorrows of the week. She was free, there and then, and that was all that mattered. Nothing else existed. In this moment, in this time, her heart was light and her soul was free.
"Lady Eva," came a gruff voice from the porch. "You mustn't be out this late, you will catch your death."
Eva startled as she turned to face the man, a guilty frown crossing her otherwise angelic features. It was Roland, the man whom she often knew as protector.
The girl could see, even in the nearly nonexistent light, that the man was exhausted and torn. Her father was like an older brother to him, after all, and he was taking his loss quite hard as well. He was not an old man, possibly twenty winters, but he looked almost older now.
Roland's usual youthful demeanor had aged considerably in less than a week, however; bright eyes now seeming jaded and dull, and he had not slept in many nights. Even the man's voice was a distant echo of what it had once been: lost in its own lament and guilt.
The man blamed himself for his lord's demise. It was a weight that was not his to bear, but he took it on regardless.
Eva looked down at the snow around her feet. It was true enough, she was beginning to feel the cold upon her, but the night was still too young.
"I am sorry sir," said the girl timidly, as she locked her eyes with his through the shadows of night. "But this is beauty, and it is something we need."
Roland crossed his arms, a slight shake of his head following. "My lady," he said through half of a sigh, "If you cannot rest, then spend the eve indoors. The night is dangerous, even in these walls."
Eva bit her lip, contemplating protest. As she looked over the man, however, she could not bear to make the times any more difficult for him. She lifted the skirt of her nightgown, ascending the stairs once more.
The pale girl then look up to the man and offered a sweet smile. Extending her hand, she reached for his.
"Then let us enjoy the fire." She said softly as she clasped the man's large and and lead the way indoors.
Roland did not resist the little lady's gesture as they walked through the silent and dark hall of the manor. The only light and sound that echoed through the stone walls was small, crackling fire within the grand fireplace.
Coming to a wingback chair in front of the flames, Eva urged the large man to sit with a simple gesture. He seemed reluctant.
"I will not take seat upon your fathers chair, Lady Eva," said the man as he shook his head.
Eva frowned, motioning to the chair once more. "My father is no longer among us, Mister Roland. Even were he here, he would not protest his life-long friend taking his seat at the request of his only child."
Roland's mouth formed a line as he looked down at the girl with exhausted eyes. He sighed softly, and sat into the chair. The chair protested lightly, as the extra weight from the man's heavy steps fell upon it.
The girl offered a small, satisfied smile at the man as she scurried to pull the ottoman close. Knowing better this time, the man did not argue as he lifted his feet for the girl to push the item beneath them. Nodding her approval, the girl then sat upon the bear-skin rug between the chair and fire.
"You will be a fine lady when you are of age," said the man as his eyelids grew heavy. "Never lose track of that kind heart of yours."
"And I will expect you to still be my protector when the day comes, Roland." Said the girl with a smile, "Until you are able to retire happily, of course."
The man offered a small, half-hearted smile as his eyes fell to a close. "Men like me rarely live to see retirement, my lady."
Eva frowned as she hopped up from her seat, quickly sneaking to a nearby sofa and snatching up a blanket. Tiptoeing back, she gently tucked the blanket around the man.
"Not if I have a say in that, Mister Roland," whispered the girl softly into the man's ear. "I cannot bear to lose another hero."
With that, the girl planted a gentle kiss on the man's forehead, before heading back to her prior seat on the rug. She would watch the flames until sleep found her.

-*-

Eva awoke to a crushing sensation as she felt herself pulled immediately into the air. At that instant, her senses awakened and she could smell thick smoke, and hear the sounds of many screams - many of whom she knew - around her.
She tried to scream, but a hand quickly covered her mouth as she was whisked from the hall. A familiar voice whispered harshly into her ear.
"Be silent, my lady," Said Roland, "we're under attack!"
Eva felt the rush of Roland carrying her as he rushed through the manor. Her face was buried close to his chest, and her vision obscured. The scent of smoke grew stronger, though it was quickly coupled with something else; a rotting stench that the girl did not know.
Groans, not of human origin, joined the sounds of her house's screams. She could hear Roland yell, but she could not make out what was said. Everything was a blur, and nothing upon her senses seemed to register. All the young girl could hear and feel was her own heart at this point, and the world around her was otherwise spinning.
An explosion of some sort rang free, as she felt herself loosen from Roland's grip and fall to the stone floor. The world around her became nothing but silence and black.

-*-

Eva awoke to snowfall upon her face. Her head was aching, and her world still spinning as she struggled to adjust to her surroundings.
Through a world of black, white, and grays, the girl could tell she was at the bottom of a ravine. To her left, a dead horse lay broken upon the ground, partially covered in snow.
"Mister Roland!" Cried out the girl as panic hit her voice and tear filled her eyes. She scanned the narrow surroundings in fear, desperate to find her protector.
A weak grunt and movement was felt beneath her following her cry. Panicked, the girl dug through the fallen snow around her to find the broken man just below.
The man was chilled to the bone, and bleeding from several wounds. Based of the height of the ravine edge above, he most likely succumbed to battery from the fall as well. He tried to speak, but all that escaped was a pained cough. He quickly lost consciousness.
Tears fell freely as the frightened girl tried to nudge the man awake, only to see the black of blood upon her hands through her darkness. She gazed at her hands in horror, feeling something deep within her stir.
"You... you're going to be alright. Mister Roland..." Said the girl through a choked voice. She hugged the man then, grasping him tightly as she hummed to him a soft lullaby.
Something stirred once more, at a warmth filled her embrace that she had never before felt. The hum took on a soft echo, and the world filled with color as a light emanated from her grasp.
Roland let out a pained scream as some of his wounds began to close, the bleeding coming to a halt at the very least. No sooner has the miracle happened that he fell back into slumber.
The world around her once again became monochromatic as she girl started in horror at her own hands, and gown, covered in the man's blood.
Breathing heavily, the girl stood with great effort, eyeing the rocky wall of the ravine.
"I... I will not lose you, too... no..." She said as she wiped her eyes, feeling blood smear across her face. "I will get help... I will be back... and you will be well."
Feeling an unknown sense of bravery instilled within her very being, the girl shakily grabbed the uneven rock wall, and began to climb.

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Eva Chapter II
by Alessia

Chapter II: Safe 'Til Dawn

Eva scaled the cliff slowly. A sensation pulsed within in that she had never felt before, pushing her to push ahead. Despite this, the cold was beginning to effect her, and she could feel the faint sting of frost creep in.
The ascent was not easy; a wall of icy stone strewn with questionable ledges and weakened exposed roots. In a terrifying blur, the girl finally felt her arm reach the top.
Pulling herself out of the ravine, the girl peered down. She could see Roland below, nearly thirty feet. The snow was slowly beginning to cover him once more - but she could see his shallow breath in the cold. She had to hurry.
Groans echoed from the otherwise silenced forest around her, and she could again smell a faint stench of something rotting in the air. Many somethings were coming closer...
Scanning her surroundings, the girl quickly caught sight of a distinct wooden fence - made from fallen white birch - between herself and a road. The portion of fence before her was destroyed, most likely from the horse crashing upon it. Eva knew this section of the road, she was sure. The manor was a few miles behind, and a mile or so ahead lay a crossroads. Often this crossroads was used as a campsite for many of the travelers heading to the city.
The child peered back down at Roland, biting her lip. Even at her young age, she knew hope was slim here. Regardless, she had to try. She had to save him.
The moans grew closer, the stench stronger.
Eva broke her gaze from Roland, peering over her shoulder to the sounds behind her. It was then that she could make out the shapes of shambling figures through the darkness. She could count many, more than a dozen; some in the distance, some only twenty feet away as they broke the tree line. Their gait was slow, considering, but fast enough of a pace to be of concern to the girl.
As the figures drew closer, even in the dark, the girl could make out alarming features: rotting, the lot of them. Some had falling flesh, some were nearly all bone, but one thing was for certain; they were all dead. The stench grew stronger, unbearable.
Running from the edge of the ravine and onto the road, the girl let out a scream as one lurched almost within reaching distance. She fell upon the snow, adrenaline racing, and scrambled to get away.
Stumbling back to her feet, Eva looked at the mass of creatures surrounding in on her. Not only did she need to escape, she had to be certain they followed her. Roland was still within distance - still vulnerable - and she would rather not discover they could reach him.
Scampering feverishing aside, the girl barely dodged the advance of two more of the shambling corpses, one losing its balance and falling to the ground inches away from her escape. She managed to slide by a third, nearly grasped by decaying hands as she maneuvered gracelessly between its steps.
Breaking from the swarm a small ways, the girl looked down the clear road ahead, and back to the certain death behind her. There was no debate as to which direction she had to now go.
Drawing in a deep breath of icy air, Eva let out as loud and long a scream as she could muster. Her voice pierced and cracked through the night air; an echo resounding even through the usual blanket of silence accompanying falling snow. She could feel her lungs begin to burn. The groans multiplied as all around focused soley on the girl now.
Breathing heavily, and scraping up the willpower within her young self to ignore the pain of the creeping cold, Eva ran towards the crossroads.

-*-

For what felt like an eternity, the young girl ran through the darkened winter scape. All she could hear was the sound of her heavy and frantic breathing, coupled with the rapid pounding of her own heartbeat. The cries of the corpses had waned for now.
Whatever courage the girl had mustered was fading quickly. Her legs began to ache and lose footing, and the sting of cold was nearly fully set in. Her gait faltered, and her straight spring became a winding stumble.
She felt her small body refuse to go any further. Succumbing to the weakness, she crashed upon the road. The ice felt as if she had fallen into a bed of embers. Quickly now, she was called to rest; exhaustion and hypothermia lulling her to sleep with a false sense of warmth. Numbness overtook her limbs, and a fire filled her lungs as her heaving breaths failed to fuel her.
Eva managed to weakly turn her gaze to the sky, and the snow falling upon her. Closing her eyes, she took the image she assumed to be her last. Death was now welcome: anything would be better than this.
Embracing ther inevitable, the broken and battered child awaited her fate. Her vision began to fade to white. She could swear that - faintly - the sound of a horse's whine echoed beneath the cadence of her now shallow breaths.

-*-

Everything ached. From her head, to the tip of her limbs, a burning pain coursed through a nearly-dead body. The scent of patchouli and lavender filled her lungs, each breath a forced rasp.
Weakly opening her eyes, the world around her was a blurr. Two figures loomed nearby, but she could not make out their features. Lantern lights danced around, wreaking further havoc upon her senses.
Voices followed, weaving in and out of perception. Their words distant, even though nearby:
"... The girl... thought dead..." spoke a distortion of a man's voice, rough and deep, "... undead close... her scream? ..."
Eva struggled to awaken, but she felt herself trapped between reality and a dream.
"And this one? ..." Inquired a woman's voice, aged and of heavy foreign accent... "What of him...?"
"Bottom..." spoke the man. "... Noticed were it not... broken fence... dead..."
Eva jerked at the mention of this, a light and pained wimper escaping her as she could feel tears stream down her burning face.
"The child stirs..." spoke the woman softly.
Struggling to make out the blurred figure that approached her, the girl could only make out a hand coming towards her face. It was delicate, gloved, but sporting many silver rings. She felt an odd, comforting warmth spread through her as the hand delicately touched a cheek. In that moment, the world became clear. The woman above her was perhaps old, based off of her silver hair, faint age lines, and elderly voice, but she was otherwise lovely. Motherly. She wore a brilliant cowled dress of purple, blue and silver. The only haunting thing about her was her eyes; dead and long blind, but seemingly having no issue seeing the girl. Rather those eyes seemed to peer within the girl.
"You will live, child." Spoke the woman in a gentle tone. Eva felt compelled to believe her, and offered a small smile. Turning her head now, she could make out the faint silhouette of a broken Roland across the cramped room. A cloaked, broad man was tending to him, muttering magicks she did not know. Roland was not breathing. His features were still and pale as ice.
"No!" Exclaimed the girl in a harsh rasp as she began to feel the tears grow more forceful. "No..."
The woman turned her head towards the dead man, then back to the weeping girl. Delicately, she wiped away with child's tears. Her lips pursed into a small frown.
"Let us see if Selune has will for this man to walk among us once more," spoke the woman faintly to the man behind her, the words barely above a whisper.
She man turned from his tending to the body, inclining his head to the woman. Eva could not make out his features beneath a dark browl hood, save for a neatly trimmed blonde beard. He wore armor that was a mixture of metal and leather, still covered in ice.
"Yes, my lady," spoke the man as he stepped back into a cramped corner, allowing the woman passage to the deceased.
With purpose, the woman approached Roland's body and ran a hand in the air from his head to his feet. Eva could not see the woman's face, but she noted her posture straightening. Producing a diamond from her pocket, the woman placed it upon the dead man's chest. Placing a hand now on the man's forehead, and the other over his stomach, her voice became laced with magic as she chanted a foreign incantation. Light began to grow from each hand, passing slowly into Roland. A groan emanated from the man, followed by a return of breath. Eva's eyes widened in wonder, as the tears still fell. Now, however, a few of them were tears of joy.
The woman let out a soft sigh as the man quickly fell into unconsciousness, the wounds sustained still very much present. The hooded man quickly rushed to tend to the dormant man, as the woman reapproached the girl.
"He will also live, child," spoke the woman with a kind smile. "He will be weak for some time, though... do you think you can be his strength until his returns?"
Eva mustered a strong nod to the woman's question. "Always."
Another smile escaped in the woman's lips.
She then bowed her head to the child.
"This world needs more like you, child,"said the woman within a whisper.
Eva could only acknowledge the woman with a weak smile in return.
Humming an enchanting melody and following with an odd incantation, a green light flowed from the woman's hand and to a fingertip. With a delicate touch to the girl's forehead, Eva drifted once more into slumber.

-*-

Waking, still night, Eva shakily stood from her cot. The man and woman had left, and the scent of incense was now only a remnant.

Roland lay still upon the table; his breathing now normal, his complexion still pale. Weakly, she pulled herself to her protector. Holding his hand, she would sing softly to him until drawn broke through the small windows of the room.

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[Almarea90]

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Eva Chapter III
by Alessia

Chapter III: The Queen of Cups

Dawn shined faintly through the panes of the small, frosted windows. Eva's vigil had not ceased, nor did her melody for the resting man. With great dedication, she clasped the man's hand within both of her own as she sat beside him.
Eva felt numbness within her. Whatever magic had been cast on her had healed her body, but her mind remained addled. The past week alone had been thought of as the hardest; the night before still remained unfathomable. Roland was still with her, but what of the others?
The sound of loud footsteps up stairs shook the walls around her. Nearly immediately, she could hear a heavy metal latch rise as the door to the small room opened. Light flooded around the shape of a hulking shadow, looming across from the two.
Clasping Roland's hand tighter, the girl looked away briefly as her eyes adjusted to the morning. Quickly, the light behind the figure muted to reveal the bearded man from the night before. His cowl was down this time, and his features now visible.
The man was tall and broad. He possessed the trappings of a hunter, based on his armor and the longbow slung over his back. His hair was sandy blonde, and cut very short. Appearing to be in his late thirties, the years seemed to have beaten the man into a state of apathy; his expression was like stone, and his voice rough and gravelly. In his arms, he carried a cloth bundle.
The man stared directly at the girl for a long while, icy blue eyes looking her up and down. The corners of his lips formed into the smallest of smiles, and he offered the slightest of nods to her.
"You've recovered well," he observed stepping forward and setting the bundle beside her. "Magdalena will see you, when you are presentable."
Eva bit her lip, looking up at the man with a measure of hesitation. She then looked to the slumbering Roland, and his hand within hers.
"I..." She began to speak, the man interjected.
"He will be safe," he said plainly before reiterating, "Magdalena will see you, when you're presentable."
"Y-yes, sir." Eva stated with a small nod.
The man grunted an acknowledgement, before moving back to the door.
"Meet me outside in ten minutes."

-*-

Eva approached the door, garbed now in a commoner's dress, worn boots that were simply too big for her, and an old wool cloak. It was odd to her, wearing clothes of this poor quality. She could not help but smile, that despite everything that had happened, she had spared even the briefest moments to think of such complaints.
Eva momentarily looked back to the slumbering Roland on the table, frowning. She did not wish to leave his side, but she needed answers as well. She would return as soon as she could, and they would return to whatever home may remain.
Struggling with the heavy door at first, she girl opened it inward to greet the day. Three narrow steps awaited her, leading down to packed snow and mud below. Several caravan wagons and tents lay strewn about the camp in various clusters about campfires, with many odd and interesting people bustling about as they cleaned away the snowy paths. The man awaited her near the bottom of the wagon's steps, arms folded as he inspected the laboring around him.
"I am Eva." She said as she looked up to him, flashing a weak and uncertain smile.
"Owain," Stated the man simply, looking the girl over. He nodded to her after a moment. "This way."
"Eva stuck close to Owain as he trudged through the muddled snow paths of the camp. Though she tried to keep her attention focused ahead, her young mind could not help but gawk at some the sites. Passing by a large wheeled cage, the girl witnessed a massive sleeping white bear within. A heavy-looking golden hoop earing flopped about in the creature's right ear with each breath. She paused tilting her head as she wandered forward, looked at the creature with innocent fascination.
"Don't get too close, love!" Came a pleasant and young female's voice from above. "He's been known to like children for breakfast!"
Startled. Eva looked up at the source of the voice. Atop the cage, she witnessed a fairly scantly clad half-elven woman, possibly sixteen, lounging atop the cage as she scrutinized the girl. The woman was nearly unfathomably beautiful; thick chestnut locks, sun-kissed skin, vibrant olive eyes, and a curvy physique. Despite this beauty, there was something completely wild and untamed about her. Eva could not quite place how, but there was a kiss of nature of the woman.
"Do not mind her, dear," came an oddly familiar voice behind the girl. "She's a jokester."
Spinning around, the girl startled to see the same woman from above, smiling sweetly down to her. The only difference, was now her hair was the color of harvest wheat. Double-taking, the girl looked back atop the cage only to see the chestnut-haired woman still there, grinning impishly.
Eva stammered a moment, looking between the two in confusion as she could feel her cheeks begin to redden.
"The girl is busy, twins," came Owain's gruff voice from the path. "Back to your chores."
Both of the women pouted in synchrony, their shoulders slouching in mock defeat. They then giggled musically - an almost magical pitch - and quickly pranced out of view.
Perplexed, Eva turned her gaze back to Owain. The man merely grunted, motioning for her to follow. Keeping her gaze steady on the man's path this time, the girl continued through the camp. Within minutes, the pair came across a large azure and silver wagon, nestled away near the outskirts of the camp. The girl could smell the scent of patchouli and lavender again. Standing before it, the girl stared up three narrow steps to a door; violet, a silver crescent moon painted upon its center.
Owain took to stand post beside the entrance, his arms crossed in an imposing manner. With a simple jerk of his head, he motioned the girl toward the door.

-*-

The inside of the wagon was dark, lit only by a single candle within a metal frame that hung from the ceiling's center. Stars and moons shaped the holes within the holder, casting their lit shapes upon the curtains. Incense smoke clung heavily to the air, creating an almost dreamy haze. The walls were covered in tapestries and curtains, all of varying hues of purple, blue, and silver. In the center before her lay a table, the blind woman from the night before sitting opposite her.
Eva moved to speak.
"Our Lady Silver saw you through the night, child," interjected the woman softly, a smile creeping upon her lips as she stared through the child. "I am Magdalena, leader of this camp, priestess of Selune. Please, sit."
Magdalena motioned to a stool in front of the girl. Biting her lip, and initially looking at the woman with reluctance, the girl eventually complied. She sat, staring into dead eyes.
Magdalena sat upright as her blank stare continued to penetrate the girl. Waving a hand over the table, a deck of cards materialized from beneath a silver-embroidered sleeve. The top of the deck was embellished with an embossed silver border, stitched around an otherwise plain black background. She flicked her wrist ever-so-slightly, the deck then moving to shuffle itself.
"Let us see what lies before you, with you, and after you." Magdalena whispered, a faint glow filling her eyes. A similar glow began to cling to the deck as its shuffling ceased.
Another flick of a wrist, a single card slid itself from the deck and rested in front of the girl. As if hit by a breeze, the card flipped right-side up.
The card depicted a cherub riding upon a white stallion through a field of sunflowers. The sun burned bright in a cloudless sky upon the cherub, basking the all in its rays.
Magdalena's eyes did not break from the girl. Eva could feel the woman ease into her mind, as if wading through her subconscious. It was a gentle feeling, the girl could not help but feel calm. She did not resist.
"Innocence," Stated the woman simply. "A child of the sun; warm, kind, and blameless."
Smiling softly, Magdalena moved her wrist again; a second card emerging from the deck and flipping itself. This card depicted a young queen, sitting atop a marble throne amidst a still sea. The queen sat, gazing upon a golden chalice in her right hand that poured into the sea below.
"A compassionate soul, your emotions are as deep as her cup; pouring endlessly into the sea of life. From this, you will further discover your power through creativity." Magdalena frowned somewhat, her tone taking a more cautious air. "Seek balance, child. Though the surface may be serene and beautiful, do not allow turbulent waters below to build."
A final card followed suit, resting beside the last. This card held a large full moon among an otherwise clear sky. Below the moon's glow, two pillars along opposite sides of a hilly valley stood; one black, one white. A stream meandered from the hills, emptying into a pool in the bottom center. A wolf stood on the bank, a white dog on the other.
Magdalena's features broke into one of contemplation, a slight frown to follow.
"Uncertainty and doubt will follow you, child. Once, you were safe. This time is no more, and harsh lessons are to follow. Thus is the way of the world, especially to those of light. Despite this, do not fear the dark, shine through it. You hold your own fate, but you must choose; will your heart be a victim, or a survivor?"
Eva stared at the woman, a look of fear plaguing her otherwise cherubic features. She looked then to the three cards before her, feeling her courage struck alight once more. Whatever was to come, she would not give up.
She could not give up.
"What happens next?" She asked.

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[Almarea90]

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Explorations of the Under Dark
by Amir Nulen

Explores of the Under Dark by Amir Nulen

In this book ill write about my explores of the Under Dark and what I am learning from reentering civilization and also tell about the people I have meet on my travels.

Chapter 1: People I know well

Untaramar: A powerfull Druid Shapechanger who have taught me the ways of nature. He is a silent type, mostly friendly to people around him, skilled in lore of the world, both above and under the surface.
Importent information: If you see him in the wild DO NOT disturb him he will give a warning but dont test your luck

Bob: my Dwarven Defender slave who I won in a bet and is following me do to his dept of honor. Like any other dwarf he is a drunk and rude person not sure he really like me or anyonels but he know more or less to keep it to him self.
Importent information: DON'T ask him about his name he got something agiant that (think it was his father again)

Morath: an old friend of mine and a Cleric though he is an inexperienced still. Friendly to talk to as long as you dont talk badly about his god
Importent information: I alone have the right to end his life unless he does something punishable by death
Diliria: a former warleader and mercenary well experienced in both battle and manners, shes been teaching me alot about how to behave in the city and who to watch out for I understant she herself is from a respected house but is only a commoner

Sanguine: One of the most powerfull Mages in the city who have been helping me when I got problems or are on a quest agianst beast much above what I have experience to handle
Impotent information: this man should not be looked down on even though he is not a drow he i highly respected in the city. Also I dont know his real mane as he introduced himself as some Sanguine of some high seated thing that I do not know about

House of Dev'Lin: I havent gotten much lore about the city but I do know about this house hold not much but the fact that they are very powerfull and commoners should keep there distance to them dont know what that means to a traveller who doesnt even live in the city so I am very carrefull
Nessa: the friendly warlock who is teaching me about how to speak in the Under Dark dont know much about her yet except she carries a mask that unfortunately covers her lovely face and that my charm is well looked in her eyes

Priestess: although the city is rolled by male wizard they still have the right to punish people althought luckily not by death though I can say from experience it is still not pleasant
Importent information: watch specialy out for Irrtana

Tarin the Conjure: a very arogant mage but those are common since they rule the city and beside that he have been very friendly and informative helping with just about 3 chapters of the books
Importent information: this wizard does not take any disrespect and also would like to have the roguish folk to remove the drow who do not fight to keep our ideas and beliefes high

Chapter 2: Magic of Sshamath
In this city magic is something seen as respected althought there are many different kinds and all have there places in the eyes of the city
Wizards: these are respected not just because of there power but because of the studing they do to get them
Trained magic users: these are seen almost as well as Wizards although they arnt aloud to join the Conclave they are still respected for the fact they work to earn there power and make them there own
Gifted: these are people who have powers that have not trained themself to attain or whose power is not there own but merli borrowed

Chapter 3: Language
In the Under Dark we drow keep mixing up our fine tounge with the common one as we see it hard to stoop all the way down to there level of talking this i have now learn is not belittling our langues but just not see it worthy to talk to the lesser races

a few word they tend to use insted of the common words is mostly
Uns'ss = me Usstan = I Ussta = my Usst = mine Dos = you Bw'l = good W'l = idiot
Ilythiiri = drow E'trit = filth Jaluk = drow male Jalil = female drow

Chapter 4: Rankings of Sshamath
there are 4 rules of the city
First there is the Conclave: these people rule the city and consist The Ullath'allar the Archpriestess of Lioth and the rest are Male Drow Wizards
Second is the Nobles: These are ONLY people of the noble houses which are chosen by the Conclave. If you are not born in one you can become it by either proving yourself worthy in the eyes of the Conclave or by being fine enough to marry into one of the existing houses
Third is the Commoner: this is all Drows respected around here thought some more then other (this will be added in the Chapter about Magic)
Fourth is the Free Non-Drows: this is people from Non-Drow races who have earn them self respect in the city
Fifth is the Slave Races: these are only wild and primitiv races and therefore good only as slave they are not fitting into the city do to there bad manners and low intelligence

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[Almarea90]

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Favoured Songs of Silversong
by Alcarin Silversong

This song book was put together by Lady Silversong but none of it is her actuall work

I just wanted to share the songs I learned (and love) when travelling around The Coast and beyond.

For aspiring bards and others who do not understand: No there are no musical notes for those are songs. Songs were meant to be sung, they do not require instrument. Instrument only adds coloring to the song, a lining, so keep it simple...

Those are tales, they incite emotions... sadness and happiness, love and anger... they make you think or make your heart dance.

Every bard, even when singing others' songs, gives them different color and thus keeping them alive. So aspire to become a bard and keep your and others' work alive.

List of songs
........................................
- Wind by the Fireside

-Jonstan the Rover

- Elminster's Jest

- Moonlight's Triumph

- The Knight of Dragon Down

- Upsen Downs

- A Song of Loss

- The Death of the Paladin

- The Shining Crown

Wind by the Fireside
....................................
So as you shiver in the cold and dark,
Look into the fire and see it's spark--
My eye, watching over you.

As you walk in the wind's whistling claws,
Listen past the howling of the wolf's jaws.
My song, comes to you.

And when you're lost in the trackless snow,
Look up high where the eagles go,
My star, shines for you.

In deep, dark mine or on crumbling peak,
Hear the words of love I speak.
My thoughts, are with you.

You are not forsaken.
You are not forgotten.
The North cannot swallow you.
The snows cannot burry you.
I will come for you.

Faerun will grow warmer,
And the gods will smile.
But oh, my love, guard yourself well--
All this may not happen for a long, long while.

- Unknown Author


Jonstan the Rover
..................................
Clippety-cloppety, bold Jonstan the Rover,
Rides misty-eyed down the Dales again,
Into forest and field, rare beauty all over,
Land of his true loves - Aldee, Imthra and Luthane, Elda and Myrta, Chalantha and Araine.

Will he find yet another? Or be welcomed back?
Long lasses aplenty catch his winking eye.
Is it kisses he'll taste soon? Or scorn everlasting?
Love and laughter and soon away Jonstan will fly.
Gone again over threshold and under dawn sky.

Far across Faerun, a rover adventures free,
'Till the Dales call his heart home again,
To Jhaele, Sharune, Aleese and Rythree.
Warm arms and hearth and a roof against rain.

Climbing far mountains, riding in high clover,
To Waterdeep and the shores of the Shining sea.
"Hark! Comes now bold Jonstan the Rover?
Will he, oh will he ever come back to me?"
The Dales call back the man wedded but free.

Cloppety-cloppety, bold Jonstan the Rover,
Comes riding down into the Dales again.
Their forests and fields, rare beauty all over,
His true love more than all the maidens in pain.
My man is riding misty-eyed to the Dales again.

- Jaladha Tshamryl
Minstrel of Battledale

Elminster's Jest
.....................................
There was a knight who longed to wield a more impressive lance,
To carry into battle, and to aid him with romance.
A wizard overheard the knight and granted his request.
The knight at first was overjoyed, to see how he was blessed.

CHORUS:
(Hey there, ho there,
A lesson's coming through:
Be careful what you ask for--
For your wishes may come true!)

The knight went to a revel with his weapon this enhanced.
The lance made dining difficult and tripped him while he danced.
The next day at the tournaments he won the jousting meets,
For all who faced his fearsome lance fell laughing from their seats.

CHORUS

The knight romanced a lady who admired his staff of oak.
They'd scarse begun their gentle joust before the staff had broke.
The knight sought out the wizard, who replied when brought to task,
"Your wish bespoke how long it WAS, and not how log 'twould LAST!" (add hearty laugh)

CHORUS (or run if necessary)

- Danilo Thann
Bard of Waterdeep

Moonlight's Triumph
...........................................
Along Selune's path they did walk,
Leaving no stone unturned.
A battle fought, all but six were lost,
A final triumph earned.

A nether tide swept down the pass,
In search of silver plunder.
Two hundred strong the mist did cloak,
Ready with waiting thunder.

Arching shafts flew aloft in flocks,
And boulders rained down on the field.
The tuskers' blood ran red and hot,
While nary a blade did they wield.

From yonder bluffs did lightning strike,
Reaving a scarlet furrow.
By art lived, by reflection lost,
Freestaves laid forever low.

With cries of rage the orcs did charge,
The battle joined at last.
The waves were dashed upon the rocks,
And none did ever pass.

Five score did fall upon each blade,
Ere the nether tide receded.
And of the rocks that stood so firm,
Only bloody sand postceeded.

Along Selune's path they did walk,
Leaving no stone unturned.
A battle fought, all but six were lost,
A final triumph earined.

-Mintiper Moonsilver

The Knights of Dragon Dawn
...................................................
Riding, riding across the plain,
See them raiding home again.
Bright their shields, brighter their chain--

They have gone where shadows creep.
Their blades a bloody harvest reap.
Another dragon put fore'er asleep,
By the Knights of Dragon Down.

On their fingers gem rings gleam.
Of such baubles, the very cream,
Falls into the hands, in a steady stream,
Of the Knights of Dragon Down.

In a dark hall a lady sits alone,
Her bright eyes gleam as white as bone.
Her dark spells a-hunting roam,
For the Knights of Dragon Down.

With a cruel smile, a web she weaves.
From each might, his soul she cleaves.
Armored bones are all she leaves,
Of the Knights of Dragon Down.

Riding, riding their skulls a-grin--
Past the gates, the Knights ride in.
Sorcery now their souls doth spin,
Of the Knights of Dragon Down.

Ladies scream at the touch of bone,
A skeletal Knights come riding home.
Undead now, fore'er to roam,
Are the Knights of Dragon Down.

(Add this verse when singing at night)

Hear them riding, nearer outside.
Never sleeping, doomed to ride.
There's no place where you can hide,
From the Knights of Dragon Down.

-Unknown Author

Upsen Downs
..................................
Climb that trail, break down that door.
Find that tunnel and run some more.
Cross that bridge of fiery glow,
Running deeper down below.
Make some smiles from those frowns.
Ye've found the town of Upsen Downs

Upsen Downs! Upsen Downs!
Ye've found the town of Upsen Downs!
Upsen Downs! Upsen Downs!
Make some smiles from those frowns.

Ye've found the place o'the finest ale,
With arm-sized pretzels that're never stale!
With big Chef Muglump and his coney stew
And master Bumble with his forty brews!

And in the holes ye can break the rock,
And haul it up with yer tackle and block.
Smelt it down and ye'll get it sold,
Upsen Downs got the finest gold!

Upsen Downs! Upsen Downs!
Ye've found the town of Upsen Downs!
Upsen Downs! Upsen Downs!
Make some smiles from those frowns.

(You can add your own verses, have fun)

- Unknown Author

A Song of Loss
...................................
Tall grew the trees in hidden glade,
Below the tower that was not a tower.
Kept safe for eons from spell and blade,
By guardians who weilded Mystra's power.

The words that sighed through their golden leaves,
Had been heard in part but never whole.
But the tall trees fell to the hands of thieves
And Magic's death is now their goal.

A precious circle of wizard's skill,
Is the key to their sundered ground.
Their home lies silent now and still,
Till the door in Nature's hall is found.

The living must find that which is lost,
before the world is riven,
Or mortals and gods will pay the cost,
And lose forever the blessing given.

- Kelloren Bluestar

The Death of the Paladin
..............................................
We've come to mourn the paladin,
That best and noblest sort of man.
His way was clear, his will was strong,
But he's just as dead as if he'd been wrong.

Alone he faced the orcish hoard
And, dauntless, raised his mighty sword.
He did not flinch, he did not blink,
He surely did not stop and think.

The halls of Tempus open wide,
Our paladin is led inside.
He shares with all his righteous creed.
And frowns on wenching, ale and mead.

So do not mourn this hero's death,
Though of his strength you are bereft.
If you must weep, weep for the god,
Who must endure the tiresome sod.

-Danilo Thann
Bard of Waterdeep

The Shining Crown
.......................................
A wise old man to me did frown
Asking: where is thy shining crown?
I see its rightful place upon thy hair,
Where right now rests but empty air.

CHORUS:
(Over the next hill,
Over the ridge.
Through the deep forest,
Across lonely bridge.)

Far afield awaits a shining crown,
Gleaming riches, great renown.
There but to reach and take,
If ye'll only stir and wake.

CHORUS

To horse! Mount and ride,
With good shield and high pride.
A little courage, a little luck,
Grim slogging and pluck.

CHORUS
Better to have reached and lost,
Hopes withered as by winter frost.
To leap up again, high and far,
Than to sit alone in a quiet bar.

CHORUS

My old tired eyes no longer shine,
So why not try? Strive and die.
My hands are weak, far too much wine,
No disgrace, the bards will cry.
And little weaponwork-- yet I'll fight,
Ye just might win a shining crown.
Old wolves can still, defiant, bite,
Bring the mighty crashing down.
And talk your talk not so loud.

CHORUS

It lies yonder, o'er far-off hill,
It waits for those who boldly will.
Come a-seeking with ready blade,
A shining crown for heroes made.

-Harper Ballad

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Felian Pictures Book
by Felian Feyborn


Instead of text, each page of this book is painted over with different materials, despicting many places and events. Some of these drawings and paintings have notations in them, and all are clearly the work of someone with skill and maybe a bit of obsession.

The first few pages have a bunch of sketches of random things, like trees, houses, creatures and people, but none detailed enough to be identified. Every drawing has a small date and place written, analyzing them would give out the fact that these have been drawn from baldur's gate to the Friendly arm inn a in the span of several months, although some of most outlandish images have the notations in a strange, cursive writing. (Knowing sylvan or passing a Lore check of 20 gives out the word "Arvandor" and "Brightwater")

This page shows a young man, stepping out of a large ornate building into the wilderness, while people watch him from the windows and point out. The man stepping outside is carrying a small backpack and wears large reading glasses, which are multicolored on the inside. The uniforms, banners, and symbols decorating the image are those of the academy of wizards in neverwinter. The sky is wrapped with clouds, one shaped as a woman's hand, pointing south -

This page is divided in half through a diagonal cut separating two images. In the upper one the same man from the previous picture is hanging upside down from a post, surrounded by a numerous group of orcs that cover most of the page. Instead of angry or evil looking, though, the orcs are drawn smiling and laughing, same for their obvious captive, as if they are having a good time together.
The second half of the picture shows the man, now free, walking away from the forest, wearing the same hide clothes as the orcs, while they wave from the edge of the woods. The young man is waving back and walking down a road that leads further south.

This page is very dark, except for a spot in the center where the red headed person from all the paintings is warming himself into a small fire, and the dim light it emits only illuminates enough to make out the man's silhouette and the rocky interior of a cave.
(A spot check of 20 would reveal two things: the firewood on the fire has a small silvery lock and rings on its side, like a book with a lock. And, carefully hidden with a slightly lighter tone of black, there is a dire bear standing in the darkness, painted right behind the man. It appear to be about to attack him.)

This page shows an old, bald man with small glasses, wearing blue robes with the symbol of candlekeep holding out his hands toward the inner edge of the page, as if receiving something from the next page. Behind him, a road crosses over grassy plains and lead to a large keep overlooking the shoreline. On the road, there are three individuals wearing similar blue robes standing together, watching from afar. One of them has a hat, the middle one has pink hair and a mask, and the last one is holding a book on her hands. Their expressions go from happy, serious and angry, in the same order.

In this page, the red headed, glasses wearing young man is wearing very tattered clothes, and his skin looks paler and sickly compared to the previous images, but nonetheless, he's still smiling and handing out a large book to the person from the previous page. Behind him, and almost covering the entire image, there are piles upon piles of more books, each one painted with surprising detail, not two are the same, and their covers show many, tiny images and letters, probably trying to depict what each book is about.

This image has the same protagonist from all images standing in front of a kobold, inside what seems to be a very old and ruined corridor. The Kobold is staring up at the young man, and waving its tiny hands. Behind the pair, and peeking from around the corner, there are several more kobolds, holding a large variety of weapons and a net. Above the group of small lizards, a couple of dark elves motion the kobolds to capture the man, clearly oblivious to them all, distracted by the Kobold in front of him.

The following image has a clearly higher amount of work and time dedicated to it. The whole page is covered in a very dull and brightless black paint or dry oil that seems to be engulfing the characters in it, as if the strange paint is thinning out the colors slowly. The red headed man is on his knees, covering his eyes with both hands, and around him, there are greatly exagerated depictions of many denizens of the underdark, dark elves, beholders, mind flayers, huge insects and more. They all have exagerate features, distorted and twisted in a very monstrous fashion.
(A spot check of 20, or opening this page in the dark shows that, inbetween the kneeling man and the creatures surrounding him, there is a small woman painted with a trasparent ink that glows in the dark. She has moth wings coming out of her back extended, keeping the monsters from reaching the man?)

This page is also covered on the same pitch black color, except the center, where a woman's face is painted in such pale colors, it almost glows in contrast with the darkness surrounding it, like a full moon in a sky with no stars. The woman is staring directly ahead, with a serious expression on her spotless factions, gives out a sense of dread, maybe the sly hint of an evil smile on the corner of her lips, or the subtle purple glowth around her black pupils, drawn like holes in the page, with nothing but eternal darkness lurking beneath, drawing you closer...

This page is almost completely covered in glittering dust, mixed with the colors of the page. Winged figures wearing shining armor are descending toward the dark, and among them is a wizard with equally bright blue robes, shooting beams of pure light from his hands. The darkness surrounding them is retreating and encroaching around the corners of the page, and looking carefully, you can distinguish dozens and dozens of human shapes together, making out the darkness with their silhouettes combined. The shining Wizard displays the symbol of Mystra on his robes quite clearly.

One of the winged knights is carrying a pink wrap of cloth on his back. A closer look would reveal that the cloth is, in fact, the red haired man from all previous pictures, being carried away.

The page reeks of crushed leaves and dirt, which evidently were used to color the page. The image, amusingly enough, is of a forest, and the knights from the previous picture are dropping the protagonist on the ground and flying away. The red headed man is completely naked, but leaves and bushes cover his intimate parts. He's visibly shaken and afraid, but the knights, and especially the blue wizard, are as inscrutable and serious looking as ever.
(A survival check of 10 or intimate knowledge of cloakwood shows that the "natural" ingredients of this painting are, indeed, from the deeper areas of cloakwood, and the landscape in the image itself is also reminiscent of it.)

This is a scene drawn in what's clearly the inside of the Friendly Arms Inn. The bright ambience and warm colors give a sense of happiness and joy, accompanying the persons that are shown in the picture. In a clear part of the Tavern, there are two men playing instruments and singing, while two elves dance to the music. One of those men is the one present in all pictures, while the other is wearing blue colors, and has very carefully painted mustache adorning is face.
In one of the tables, there is, again, the protagonist, sitting on a table with abundant food and drink, talking enthusiastically with an adult woman. The young man is gesturing with his hands and his demeanor is wild and excited, and the woman apparently listening to him is smiling and laughing along. Her face and looks are very carefully painted, in the stairs leading up appears the red haired man for a third time, now being led from the hand by a different woman. This one wears a blue and yellow domino mask over her face. They're both grinning at one another in clear complicity.

These two final pages show a stage with a full audience, holding five people standing on it cheering as they perform. The red haired man is among them, waving his arms over his head in extreme joy, holding a brush and a paper scroll in his hands. Another man next to him is wearing a light blue performing costume, with a gold-colored bandana adorning his light-brown colored hair, smiling and playing an elaborately crafted guitar. There is an elf dancing among them, too, but her face is hidden underneath a hood, and only a couple of silver-colored braids hanging own from her head are visible. Standing a little away from the group, is the woman with the blue-yellow domino mask from the previous page, with a mischievous smile and a small golden harp in her hands.
The last person in the group appears to be a woman, her clothes elegant and colored in a deep purple tone. Her form is beautiful and at the same time imposing. Whatever face she had has been blurred over with a wet brush, leaving only a red/pink smear. Judging by her posture, she appears to have been singing to the melody the others were playing and dancing to.

(A spot check of 20 would give away certain tiny details. The shadow of the hooded elf is dancing, but the posture of the shadow does not correlate to her body. The harp in the hands of the woman with the domino mask is not painted, but rather, a very tiny harp figurine made in white gold, strings and all. The blurred out face on the page has been fixed and then smudged again at least five times, and some general details are still visible to the skilled eye. Black, short hair, red lips, dark eyes, all on a very shapely face.)

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Flora of the Sword Coast
by Iolana

A survivalist's guide to the common medicinal plants of the Sword Coast, may it serve you well.
- Iolana Arele

Cavern moss / Healing Moss

Pale green and spongy to touch, patches can spread up to 2ft in diameter and 1ft high. Highly absorbant and helps prevent infection.

Uses/Effects: A dressing to cure minor wounds and craft healing kits

Location: Bladeling caverns beneath the Hilltop Ruins

Amentia / The Mushroom of Stamina

A red-capped mushroom with defined white gills and white spots, energises the body and improves bloodflow. Can be eaten raw, cooked into a meal, or brewed into a tea with honey to mask taste.

Uses/Effects: Grants Animalistic power, increasing one's strength, dexterity, and constitution.

Location: Skuldask Water Cave

Crimson Cantharellus / The Mushroom of Neutralize Poison

Unifor, deep red colour, identifiable for the wrinkles or ridges attached to the stem, but not true gills. Can be eaten raw, a touch bitter but not unpleasant.

Uses/Effects: A fast-acting antidote to most poisons and toxins when consumed. Can be brewed into tea.

Location: Skulkdask Water Cave

Ragweed / Stink Bomb

A deep green shrub with star-shaped, seven-pointed leaves, grows to three or four feet tall. Very tough and woody plant with faintly unpleasant smell.

Uses/Effects: Grenade repellant. Crush leaved to activate and throw it - very quickly. Once activated produces a vile stinking cloud in the area.

Location: Scattered; sample found along the trade Way by a small bandit camp, and in the hills where Wyverns nest.

Stone Root

Hard, woody shrub with sandy texture to the leaves and stone-like appearance. May appear dead or dying due to the dull grey-brown color. Stems from a short underground trunk, which branches into finger-like rhizomes.

Uses/Effects: Crush root into paste and rub into skin: this plant creates the Greater Stone Skin effect, reducing damage and injury to the body.

Location: Wyvern nesting grounds, though some have been known to grow near the Shrine to Eldath.

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From Ordinary Eyes
by Lucy

Years of travel finally brought me to Baldur's Gate. I had been with my caravan since I was ten, but I was eighteen when we reached here, and I felt it was my time to forge my own path.
Entering the gates of the mighty city, I found myself at a loss of words. Such magnificence! Not only in buildings, but in the faces as well! People from all over the realm seemed to flock here; elves, dwarves, halflings, even those touched by the other planes! Never before had I witnessed such splendor. It was then that I realized, finally; How was a simple girl from a nameless village a day's journey from Neverwinter to do in a land of such wonder and heroism?
I found my answer, shortly after! I would know these heroes and their deeds. From their deeds I would learn, and spread the word of these acts at the same time. We all live within a story, a series of events that makes us who we are and shapes history - whether it is on a grand scale or a small one. It will be my honor to make sure these deeds and heroes get the remembrance that they deserve.
For now, this book is a collection of the brief descriptions of some of the interesting people I have met; heroes or not.
The first person I met on my journey was an aasimar by the name of Edric Kowai. A paladin of Tyr, I found him to be a bit of an overly serious sort. In fact, I question if he ever remembered my name! He simply referred to me as "bard". A warrior of means I had never quite seen before, this paladin was quite victorious in the graveyard; a cursed land where the dead seem to constantly reanimate themselves to torment the living. I followed him for some time, and my presence seemed to not bother him. Though I disagreed on the seriousness this man was forever showing - a level of severity that I fear may one day get the best of him - he fought with such passion for the greater good, and with relentless determination. Even severely wounded and on the brink of death, he fought until the deed was done.
Who knows, one day this man may very well be a great hero. A man who can live with such conviction and faith can be a blessing unto the world, though I always wonder if living by such a means is a curse upon oneself...
Tom is a man whom I find very interesting! He claims to always be drunk, or rather drink too often, and perhaps he does! Regardless, I know there are great things to be expected of this man. One instance in particular, him and I decided to go for a walk to escape the insanity that simply is the campfire outside of the Friendly Arms Inn. We walked for quite some ways, trying to find a location to be safe from the dangers lurking in every corner of this land, eventually coming to a lovely wooded spot north of Baldur's Gate.
We spoke for quite some time, details I will omit due to Tom seeming to be a humble man not keen on considering himself a hero. Do not let the act of a drunk fool you, I saw this man take down a bear so quickly it more or less resembled a father spanking a misbehaving child!
Ah, Tom. Great things will find you! That is another quality I find that is great for a hero to possess; Humility.
I met a peculiar knight along my travels, a man whose name I have yet to learn. A handsome man, he possesses a gentleness and warmth that is otherwise hidden in the stoicism that is a warrior's way. In particular, he has the most striking green eyes I have ever seen, eyes I see a light shining within, albeit a figurative light. I've only met him twice, the first at that insane campfire by the Inn and the second again at that campfire, though the second was oddly more strange! He brought me back for a Priestess to aid me. I've been meaning to thank him, but he is always so very busy! Every time I intend to strike up conversation, someone pulls him away to talk, he must be very important!
Humility, Strength and Honor. I sense this in this man, and these are all strengths of a hero in my book. Someone who goes out of their way to help others, even strangers. I may not know you, sir, but you are a hero.
I had never before seen a man with flaming hair. Literally flaming, at least, until just recently! Shortly after being saved by the enigmatic knight, this odd masked man shortly started to harass me.
A mad man, as others call him, I would prefer to think of him as "eccentric", tough terrifyingly eccentric. First he diagnosed me with a ficticious disease called "Turkey Spots", while ranting and raving about dinomice and how they attack in swarms. Apparently, dinomice are half dinosaur, half mouse. Who knew? Regardless, this man struck me as particularly remarkable. Even in his madness, he showed great magical prowess, first making me tiny, then making me a giant! I am not sure if this power with such mentality is a good thing, but it was nevertheless interesting!
The man even dragged me and a beautiful priestess in the woods to see "a thing". When we asked what this thing was, he merely insisted it was "a very important thing". This very important thing, after venturing into the most ominous forest I have ever seen, was nothing more than an unremarkable hill on the roadside. At least it was entertaining, yes?
Valkrun is an interesting fellow!
Handsome, strong, and quite a master at recollection!
He shared with me a tale of when he and his friends aided the dwarves in fighting frost giants. Can you believe that? Frost giants! I nearly fell off the barrel I was sitting on as he told me it!
It would seem the battle was long and hard, until the largest of the giants came! Taller than the inn, he said, and ferocious as hell! They were building up to a fight when... one of the mages in the group cast a spell, opening a portal and banishing the giant to one of the hells or somesuch. Is it just me, or is that anti-climatic? Regardless! The day was saved, and the dwarves successfully resisted! A deed well done, no matter how odd the ending. I do not Valkrun well, nor can I read his intentions as I do other people. Perhaps that is part of the intrigue? Regardless, he is a mighty man, capable of many a mighty thing.
Perhaps that is one of the things that makes a memorable hero; mystery.
Perhaps I haven't delved far enough, too! Either way, the people I meet in Baldur's Gate do not fail to amaze me.
Though I was unable to find the "World Saving Hero" or whatnot to record as my childish fantasies had previously wished, I feel I have found much more here. This world is built of the stories of individuals, countless individuals that shape history every day in the acts. Some of these acts are as grand as leading an army to conquer some continental threat, others are seemingly simple as planting an apple seed in some forest. From the mightiest lord to the lowliest farmer, we all have a story to tell, a legacy to leave behind.
At the same time, everyone seems to fear death. Even the eldest creature knows that death will come. Even the Gods can die, this is the way the world has always worked and always will. Be it from time or blade, death finds us all, and we move on to whatever we belong next. But our stories, our legacy? That is something that can keep us alive for centuries or millennia after our deaths. Rememberance; that is how we cheat death longer than our minds and bodies can. Even the artifacts left by the heroes and empires of old are only as significant as the tale we tell and remember that is tied to them - So why not let our stories be told now, so that they may possibly come to find a place in eternity?

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Gospel of Saernclaws
by Remus

The following pages contain a copy of the Holy Decree that applies to all priests of Malar

...The Hunt must be clean. If disease or affliction is visited on hunters by a beast, clergy of Malar must do all they can to root out and exterminate the taint, that bloodlines and beasts in the wild remain always strong...

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Happiness and Circumstance
by H.L. Bartholomew

Chapter 1 - The Gardens

It was a lively autumn day as Lady Marie di'Thrandia did ride. The light clops of her horse's feet were only barely drowned out by the luxurious breeze blowing through her hair. The sun shined brightly, and there seemed to be only a slight overcast, keeping the normally bright blue sky just a bit more gray than usual. Smells of dandelions, daisies, and a hint of apples entered into her nose and her lips curled into a smile.

Today, after all, was the day. She would finally meet him. Him! The Earl of Hillbrusten, nephew of her grandmother's most cherished confidant, and truly one of the family's closest friends. Why they had never met had always eluded her, but the rumors of what was intended spread like a wildfire throughout di'Thrandia Manor. Her heart was a flutter at the idea of hearing wedding bells, and yet, perhaps it was simply too soon.

In the distance, as though on cue, she could see them. A carriage, black as the night, decorated with gold heraldry to indicate his arrival. It was indeed his most cherished Excellency, the Earl, Geoffrey, here to visit. As they came to a stop, an elderly man hopped out from the front, running around the side to open the door. A hand was seen... then a man adorned with a top hat would exit, dressed in a fitted suit, riding boots on his feet that were meticulously cleaned. Rumor had it that this was the man she would wed, and he did look the part. Handsome to the eyes, elegant in his step. Oh, to hear him speak, she dreamed.

Chapter 2 - The Introduction

As the Earl did exit, he gave a bow to his trusted driver, Mackelbee. "You have my condolences, old friend. To come all this way, for such a journey with nary a break. Have a rest, my faithful servant."
He gave Mackelbee a faint smile as another departed the carriage behind him, gathering the reins and nodding to Geoffrey. Geoffrey's bright blue eyes glinted in the light as he turned, sweeping his blonde hair aside. "Ah, Tregil, good. Yes, take care of the horses, won't you?"

Tregill bowed in response. "Yes of course, Your Excellency, my Lord."

Geoffrey gave a wave of his hand before stepping off for di'Thrambia Manor. The man's sparkling eyes took in the scene around him. A pleasantly trimmed lawn by a hillside, covered in daisies, and, as it would seem, the occasional dandelion. To his right, an apple orchard, and ahead, the manor itself. To himself, he thought "It is a bit small, but we must see what we must."

Tregill, in the meantime, led the horses to the stable, and as he did, he saw her. A beautiful young blonde woman riding upon a white stallion. He brushed his dirty brown hair to the side as he did glance to her. He had not seen one like her in all his days, and he averted his emerald eyes.

He knew they would never be together, for that was the Lady of the house, and he was but a servant to his Earl, an Earl who most likely was to wed this gorgeous woman.

Yet she rode closer, the clip clop of the hooves resonating in that brisk breeze. Her eyes did meet his, and he could not help but feel ashamed, for in every way that he could see, she was beautiful.

"My... my lady," Tregill managed to say as he bowed his head to her, nearly letting go of the reins as he did. "You do me honor this day, though my Lord has just entered the manor. Surely you seek him."

Lady Marie shook her head, dismounting from the horse and giving the a soft chuckle."Oh, my, with such manners, you are no doubt a nobleman yourself. My good sir, I beg a boon from you, one that you may find somewhat abnormal."

Tregill could hardly believe what he heard. "Of course, my Lady. Anything you ask, within my power, and it is yours."

Lady Marie could not help but be taken aback by him. Such manners, for a servant. And handsome, too. Her cheeks turned slightly red at the thought. Yet she was on a mission, and it needed completing. "Tell me about the Earl. What is he like?"

"I... I am sorry, madam..." Tregill stuttered out as he run toward the house, hurrying away. To have such thoughts, and about a noblewoman. It was... improper.

Chapter 3 - The Bow and Curtsie

Though Marie was confused, she could not help but notice his blushed features. Was he embarassed? Surely he was not afraid, but then he was no nobleman, handsome as he was.

The day did go by, and she was not to meet with them again that night. Instead, she lay in bed, head in the clouds, dreaming of his strong hands touching her arms. Of his chiseled jaw, and flowing locks. She saw him moving, and yet it was unclear who he was.

It was only as she awoke when she realized it was not the Earl, but another!

...

Chapter 10 - The Dance

As the two did move to and fro, it was clear that the former Earl was the greater swordsman. His movements were small, coordinated. He thrust only as he needed, and nearly had his former servant two times. No, three! There he went again!

Her blood grew hot as she watched her love in the midst of the bout, eyes watching his slender blade pulled and pushed, narrowly escaping death once more. Finally, in a desperate attempt, Tregill dove to the side, and Geoffrey's arm extended, lunging out toward him. Tregill's blade struck true, burying itself into his opponent's skull as Geoffrey struck Tregill's arm.

It was over... Tregill was shaking, and Marie cried, grasping him closely. Like this? No... tonight they would be wed... and then she would...

...

Chapter 13 - Epilogue

That night was wonderful, and all would be right now. Tregill looked to Marie as she lay her hand on his chest.
"My lady..."

"My lord..."

Fin

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Helm's Dogma
by Eden

Never betray your trust.
Be vigilant.
Be fair and diligent in the conduct of your orders.
Protect the weak, poor, injured, young, and do not sacrifice them for others or yourself.
Anticipate attacks and be ready.
Know your foes.
Care for your weapons so they may perform their duties when called upon.
Careful planning always defeats rushed actions in the end.
Always obey orders, providing those orders follow the dictates of Helm.
Demonstrate excellence and purity of loyalty in your role as a guardian and protector.

May you, The Watcher,
Watch upon us all as we do on this town.

May you, The Vigilant,
Guard us all as we do with its inhabitants.

May you, The Great Guard,
Help us to be vigilant all the time.

May you, The Unsleeping Eye,
Help us to protect who we trust.

May you, The God of Guardians
Let others trust in us as we trust in you.

In your name, in the name of Helm.
The Watcher, The Vigilant, The Great Guard.
The Unsleeping Eye. The God of Guardians.


May you, The Watcher.
Watch upon us with your holy eye.

May you, The Vigilant,
Guide our paths with your holy hand.

May you, The Great Guard,
Sustain us all as we walk this foreign land.

May you, the Unsleeping Eye,
Help us carry our steel and pain.

May you, The God of Guardians,
Let strangers trust in us as we trust in you.

In your name, in the name of Helm.
The Watcher, The Vigilant. The Great Guard.
The Unsleeping Eye. The God of Guardians.


May you,
The Watcher, The Vigilant, The Great Guard,
The Unsleeping Eye, The God of Guardians,

We humbly pray,

Rebuke our enemies.
And defend us in battle.

For Helm.
For the Watcher. The Vigilant. The Great Guard.
The Unsleeping Eye. The God of Guardians.

We humbly pray,

May his eye help us strike.
May his hand lead us blades.


As our steel is mortal,
We humbly pray.
As our flesh will rot,
We humbly pray.
As our bones will break,
We humbly pray.

May you,
The watcher, The Vigilant, The Great Guard,
The Unsleeping Eye, The God of Guardians,

Pick this flesh up from the ground
With your holy hand
Make descent your holy life
Make descent your holy light
To give this flesh a breath again,
And guard him as he move,
With your holy eye.

This we humbly pray.

May you,
The Watcher, The Vigilant, The Great Guard,
The Unsleeping Eye, The God of Guardians,

Accept this novice's faith.

Lead his hand with yours,
Teach him loyaltym Teach him trust,
Teach him sacrifice, Teach him carefulness,
Teach him protection, Teach him law,
Teach him obedience, Teach him strength.

Teach him to manage the might you give him.

Teach him to plan his actions.
Teach him to be vigilant.

Teach him to be your hand.
Teach him to be your eye.


I stand here.
With my blade drawn.

I stand here as my shield broke.

All hope seems gone,
But you still can reveal me the path.

You can still lead my hand,
You can still lead my sword.

Let this shield protect me as I did with it.
Let this weapon serve me as i served her.

May you,
The Watcher, The Vigilant, The Great Guard,
The Unsleeping Eye, The God of Guardians,

Let me live. Let this strike,
Be fatal to our enemy.

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Herbert North
by Lucy Heartfilia

For Eva Loraine Gervais

You inspired me to write. Wherever you are I hope you're safe.

Chapter 1

I first encountered Herbert North in the seedy town of Roaringshore shortly after coming to the Sword Coast. Thinking back on it it seems so long ago... before I joined the Silver Shield, even. North was a lich, and was infamous for buying corpses from adventurers for some kind of twisted "research." In, what is the earliest of his experiments I have firsthand knowledge of, he created some kind of horrible creatures called Quell. The Quell seemed to be creatures, souls perhaps, whose hatred of the Gods grew so fierce that they could severe my connection to the divine. It was the most awful feeling, Her voice being completely silenced. Layanna took it even worse than I did. If not for my brief monastic training I likely wouldn't have survived. Eventually those gathered slayed the creatures and turned their blades on North himself. I watched him die at the hands of the people gathered there and learned it was only a temporary solution, as to destroy a Lich you must destroy its phylactery.

Chapter 2

North appeared time and time again, often watching his experiments up close and watching and collecting notes with his strange little creatures he called Homunculus. Time rolled on and I joined the Silver Shield, and we battled his creations many times he set them free. North lost control of his phylactery to a blood mage in the Underdark, but he hardly seemed concerned. It can't be understated that all North ever cared about was his research.
We learned a little bit about his past, as well. Herbert North was born in Old Hlontar, a town forgotten a millennia ago but founded by a Lich as well. Though we made efforts to find North's phylactery little could be done realistically, and for a time North actually seemed to fade from our thoughts. Likely he was always there in the background though, conducting his "experiments."

Chapter 3

The next time I saw North was when I used a spell of Sending to contact him to answer Ivan's questions. Though he didn't arrive until later he claimed to have regained control of his own phylactery, but it was clear to us the lich's lifeforce was being drained. It could barely even hold its wards up. It claimed it had lost control of its latest experiment... or rather, in North's own words "as much negative energy as I sent down the well, I'm not surprised it sent something back." A being of pure negative energy, North claimed it fed on him as well as the energy from undeath, and that with each feeding it grew, and in this fashion replace the entire material plane with one of negative energy.
Whether or not this is possible has been a subject of much debate, but I argue that North was never known to lie or even exaggerate claims, and that there is no reason not to take his words at face value. North claimed any life that relied on air would be completely wiped out.

Chapter 4

The Shade was drawn to negative energy like a moth to a flame, so Valkrun Anatox and I devised a plan to open a Gate to the plane of negative energy, send creature in, and shut the Gate behind it. A bit like pouring a bucket of water into the sea... The creature would simply be returned to what it came from.
After some discussion amongst the Shield, and eventually Laitae of Candlekeep, the plan seemed quite plausible. We almost had our chance when we met North in the Fields of the Dead. He tested us against his Shade some, and just when I readied the Gate other undead gathered on the spot, and North slipped away as we fought them.
A few days later the Shade seeped up from a well on the coast, south of the Lion's Way. We battled it there, but many fell in the fight, and North himself was only spotted briefly. It was then Val mentioned the plan to others, who thought it a poor idea all around.

Chapter 5

Valkrun and Arcon had a chance to open the Gate and seal the creature in without me, and as they did so I'm told that Ivan demanded they stop and open a gate to the plane of positive energy instead. During their moment of weakness, North eventually offered himself to the Shade, allowing him to be consumed completely, and the creature swelled larger than an Ancient Dragon.
I had often wondered if upon absorbing Herbert the Shade would gain some kind of sentience. It definitely gained power, as it was ferocious, and deadly, as it had ever been and more. Many fell, it seems the adventurers could not stand to the creature and had to scatter in retreat. It was in this battle that Valkrun died, his body apparently tossed out to float off into the Sea of Swords. I thank the Lady every day since in my prayers that Arcon discovered him a day later and was able to Resurrect him.

Chapter 6

The Shade had escaped. We had little clue where it went but it seemed Herbert had planned for this all along and this was all another part of his machinations... one last twisted "experiment" to end his thousand years of research.
Ivan and Julindra Meynolds assured us that the only logical course of action was to use positive energy to cancel the creature out completely and destroy it North had left a single homunculus. The creature was able to act as a focus, and by casting a Gate spell using the homunculus as a rune I was able to open a portal to some subset of the material plane.
The brave ones that stepped through found ourselves in a strange cemetery filled with undeath. We progressed forward warily, battling undead and Quell along the way. It is my opinion that the place was Old Hlontar, or some recreation of it.

Chapter 7

Eventually the group came to a large structure, a stone fortress or perhaps ruined castle, and as we drew close the very walls started oozing blood. The scene was by far the most terrifying and macabre thing I've seen in my century of life.
It seemed the blood flowed from the sea nearby... Some members of the group speculated that the creature was feeding off the blood, and while this is possible, I have my doubts, though admittedly I can offer no alternative logic to explain the twisted realm we witnessed on the other side of the portal.
It was then we saw it: the Shade itself, in the same form it had taken on the Prime after absorbing North. It was not aggressive in any way, but not aggressive and not dangerous are two entirely different things.
It was when Alezka cast Heal on the creature that things really sprang into motion.

Chapter 8

The creature reeled in pain as more and more positive energy flooded into it. Alezka, Arcon, and Ilyana hit it the hardest the fastest... Heals, Mass Heals, any kind of positive energy they could throw at it.
I can still hear Arcon's words on the air: "Keep at it Shields! Bring the creature down!" The order went out and I joined the fray as well, flooding the creature with positive energy. And then, amazingly, it reeled, and shrunk in size for a moment before suddenly and ferociously swelling in size. All the adventurers were attacking it with spell and weapon now, and the creature fell before it even had an attempt to fight back.
A debilitating and stunning victory against a creature that had so easily and so often murdered and consumed, the Shade was finally vanquished and with the destruction of the last Homunculus Mace's foul and twisted research was put to rest. A fitting end for Herbert North.

Snippets of North's research, as heard from his Homunculus

- One creates a Quell by forcing someone to hate the Gods completely.

- Positive energy waves can prove useful in germ warfare.

- The town of Old Hlontar was created or founded by a lich, well over a thousand years ago.

- North once tried to animate individual parts of human bodies. One of the hands that was not fresh enough attempted to jump off the table and strangle North.

- Positive and negative energy are not inherently good or evil in nature.

A list of honorable mentions, those that fought or helped fight North at every turn. If I missed anyone, I'm greatly sorry.

Valkrun Anatox
Arcon Anatox
Maxwell of Kraak Helzaak
Ilyana Sverre
Alezka Silverstone
Isaac Digard
Lotrik the Sellsword
Vino Cain
Ivan the Druid
Julindra Meynolds
Layanna Mordiggian
Lexa Dreskia
Sna'z the Ilmateri

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