The Grey Dust

D&D 5e - High Seas and Tall Tales

Face the ancient darkness deep,
Void of darkness devoid of light,
Come the dawn it crawls and creeps,
The shadows of day born from night,
Of blackened birth the shadow spawn,
from mother darkness and father dawn.

The grip loosened as the bladesinger's eye paralyzed the tentacular rival. Koan had felled the remaining templar, an ingenious use of spellcraft as she tempted and goaded her prey to strike her frozen blue body. And more so her rapier's attack which crackled of booming energy against the gripped squid, was she not a wonderful sadist? Octopii appeared to attack their distant brethren, all party members engaged against the colossal beast throwing everything they had to survive, despite the vantage of numbers now with the templars down. But survive they did, the limp noodle wrapt around Noriam's struggles the sign of the monstrosity's demise. Releasing him from his struggles, as the curious blonde handed him a strange potion from beneath her cloak. It was Jill who shone with the light that pierced the kraken's evil eye with her blade. Crying blood and ink as the cephalopod drowned in its death allowing the grappled warlock to remove the tentacle grapple and glide swimmingly towards the gathering group back into the looted treasure room. Now of all times perhaps it would be fitting to reveal his name to the group, as Jacob rechristened into Israel would too 'Sauron' be reintroduced as Noriam? The burden of thoughts, they had all known him by the former name...

A voice returning. A sweet music in the mind of a lost child. A calling, beckoning through the experience of being pulled by the darkness. Perhaps Jill's words rang truer still, something of an effect upon the harmony of tainted soul. There was still light, a divine spark held within, clinging on in the bastion as a single flame upon twined wick. This battle only made it grow, the tendrils making the fight more real, how he sought to the grasp the darkness had around him. The perfect allegory to tease out the rekindling of the light. There Noriam turned within, listening to the voice of Jill in his mind, I see the light is still inside you. Grasp it, and break free! No not break free, but Shine. Shine on release the inferno of holy light, return as Noriam and cease the game of shadows. But the shadows were born from darkness and light, the shadow exists as the light strikes as the darkness to balance out the radiance.

"I believe this is yours." A potion returned to its original owner. No longer slow of tongue it seemed, Jill's restorative magic having cooled his burning tongue. "While I appreciate the gesture... Taking drinks from nameless strangers you have only met is a good way to find yourself... Poisoned or worse..." It was true, a tactic employed by many in the professional circle. The scrapes and cut beneath his shadow armor would heal, Jill's spells already having done much of the work, but a brief respite should heal most of the injuries. Then again most of this was from Koan's kiss. Of which Noriam minded not another in the next hour, as Jill identified the tiger's necklace with her rites. She was a mystery, younger and far more chipper than the gloomy aasimar, but perhaps just as volatile in their vocations, for did Noriam not revel in the moment of agony minutes ago like a madman? And now he seemed far more relaxed as a new brightness danced in his watching eyes even as he made his way to Koan's side. Jill's healing light seemed to cling on and resonate within him, infectiously tainting his blackened soul with the blessings of the heavens.

"Koan, are you alright my sweet ebon fury?" A charming smile at the blue enigma serenading her in a lover's endearment. What would she do if she knew of his deception? Would she love Sauron? Or Noriam? was it love even? Or more so a dark lust that nibbled at the desires? Did not Jill banish Koan's darkness from his heart?

Mechanics

Noriam Lvl up: 1 level of Sorcerer, Divine Soul added (See Char Sheet Updates)
Short rest
Spent Hitdice = 4d8 + 1d6 + 2*5 = (4+6+6+4)+(4)+2*5 = 34 hp
Spell Slots Added: 2x lvl 5 Warlock Pact Magic

These Deities of Ours (A god RP)

Excellent.

Question is do I go neutral evil, or neutral neutral?

I suppose It depends on the pantheon others have.

I can see X being Essential. Zhystkrexas would be Pantheon or Essential.

Zhystkrexas would have limited power, but high influence. X being the reverse.

These Deities of Ours (A god RP)

An apocalypse every few hundred years is good for civilization.
Fresh start and all.

:)

Edit: Which god of the two samples did you prefer me using?

[5e] Outrealms

Alexandra the Valkyrie

---

Once again it was over, in a matter of seconds an entire legion of the undead destroyed by the efforts of the living. Well all but one, as the merchant seemed to pack her wares only to be assaulted by the dwarf. Or rather attempted to as it was rather humorous to see the man fail to get a hold of the slippery woman, one step ahead of the monk as she dodged his efforts not once but twice. With the battle finished without a scratch or sweat broken, there was little fervor in the Valkyrie left, her raging zeal subsided as easily as it came. The frenzy of battle had left her drenched in the reeking guts of her zombie opponent, of which befouled her graceful airs with the barbarity of war. Not that Alex would mind being covered in the anointment of splattered foes in the heat of combat, yet now as it was over there were standards of hygiene a woman must keep. Adal trotted back to Alex's side, a shield-brother reuniting with his sister, with his detection noting all the undead remaining among them. Thrusting her spear down and removing the embedded tip from the lifeless corpse, the amazon retrieved a stoppered flask from the unicorn's saddle and stowed the weapon away into the magical quiver slung across her back.

"Fountain." The command word uttered as the warrior lifted her head up and unstoppered the flask, letting the rush of fresh water cascade over her awaiting face. Flowing down from the decanter of endless water, a river to wash away the remains of the day, an instant shower that tamed her wild locks against her back and wet her clothes to cling against her body revealing the sculpted female musculature beneath the soaked fabric. Normally a bath or lake would have been prefered, yet bar the dwarf, they were in the company of women-folk bar the dwarf, and there was no need to be modest around the girls. The Beast-kin seemed genuine enough in her devotion to the Raven Queen, a god Alex has heard of and associated with her pantheon's Hel. The Merchant also seemed trustworthy despite her lack of contributions to the fight, a trader however could not be expected to wield her wares in combat. However her words seemed far too gleeful given the situation. More so it appeared she was a frequenter of strange place such as these given her reply. Yet no one knew who had brought them here, or why they were brought here, or where 'here' even was judging by the answers of the newcomers. Nevermind, let the keener minds of their number solve the mystery, Alex had only an interest in returning, and Adal was always the more cerebral of the pair yet he too had so far been silent on the matter. The shower thoughts and shower was over as the last of the water fell from the bottle, and the decanter was returned to Adal's saddle.

"Well Met! I am Alex, and this is my shield-brother Adal. None have claim responsibility for our transport here. Perhaps a nearby settlement will have answers?" Spoken as Alex and Adal approached the congregating group, gathering her flattened hair in her hands to one side over her left shoulder. The drops of water on her bare arms flicking every now and then with her movements, she would dry off soon enough, "Or shall we make camp here for the night? There are plenty of trees for firewood." Almost as if by telepathy, the unicorn's horn glowed a soft white as a crystalline snowflake appeared floating above its tip suggesting the weather to come, it was clear the pair knew each other well. "Adal predicts snowfall. So do we brave the elements or wander into the unknown of this land?"

These Deities of Ours (A god RP)

Interest.

I have 3 particular Gods I had developed as I roleplayed. And one more semi-developed.

Although 2 fill pretty big roles... below are the two larger gods.

X, God of Knowledge

X the God

Name: X (pronounced “ecks”), The Divine Scholar, Grand Magus, The Blind Teacher, Faceless One (and may other epithets according to which race refers him).

True Name: Apocrypha

Gender: Male

Symbols:

Symbol of Secrets

A circle with an X, representing something not only disallowed once, but twice over as something truly forbidden. It is also a reference to his namesake.

Symbol of Magic

A Moth with two pairs of wings, representing the mystical nature of magic, a metamorphosis of change from the natural state. They are also associated with the divine creations of X: the Ma'at. It is the emblem of the Order of the Moths, a group devoted to the knowledge and the magical arts as devotees and servitors of X.

Appearance:

The Faceless face of God:

Appearing to both Mortals and Gods in the same form, X does not differ his appearance to either party. There is nothing to hide from Mortals in his appearance, as it reveals scarcely anything. It is easy to discern X is a God by the otherworldly manifestation, and yet knowing X is a God is meaningless in itself for no one but X knows anything more. A flowing robe conceals his physical manifestation, dissolving the God to little more than a pair of long slender hands emerging from the sleeves and a partial face beyond the veil of eternal mystery. There is no face beyond the lower half of his visage, and in truth nothing beneath the robes.

Personality:

Divine Wisdom:

A mystic god who challenges the very idea of Omniscience. While it is possible to consider that X is a god of knowledge, that is a bringer of knowledge, he is also the force which obscures it. There are things which even the Gods themselves cannot answer perhaps of their own creation or the world before anything. X is the guardian of such forbidden knowledge, keeper of the arts of Magic and Mystery. It is he that conceals the musings of fate, it is he that knows the outcomes before it happens. It is he that governs the laws and functions of how the universe works for it is he that knows the inner workings. His thoughts cryptic and revealing, speaking directly and yet in metaphors and riddles of countless paradoxes. There is no better adviser than X for his insights existed long before the moment and the question was asked.

Created to be what he was, a watcher and recorder, X is a bureaucratize scientist, who's true dominion lies between the ears. Seeking to become more and more omniscient as he studies the world, recording all that is and was, and to be fated. Fulfilling his purpose and role in the divine cosmic order, seeking out the secrets and judging if they were too dangerous to fall into the hands of mortals. Or even gods. With many varied roles to play, X has becoming a prominent enough figure among his siblings, and most should consider his pursuit of purpose to remain within his assigned task. However, this begs the question if one as knowledgeable as X is sated with being a mere tool for a higher entity. There are suggestions of his desire to be the one commanding it all by birthright of intellect, and perhaps it is this reason why he remained so neutral in the wars.

Major Domain: Knowledge.

Minor Domains: Secrets, Magic

Weaknesses:

Bane of a God:

True Name: Those who call upon him by his true name, may gain the services of the God. As he is bound to serve the speaker of his name.

Logic: Those who can place a argument for or against an action to be done, will gain the services of the God to execute such action or inaction. To sway and manipulate him however, is difficult with his presage.

Blindness: Although restoring sight is an simple task, X chooses to remain blind and instead sees the world through the vision of others. Thus if one can cleverly use this lack of vision, it is possible to outwit a god.

Avatar:

Wadjet, The Magnum Opus

The made of the desert sands, born of the very cosmos,
The omniscience sleeps within the cocoon until awoken,
To wipe out that which X deems anathema and bury it forever.

A being of absolute power composed of magical sand, it is the wellspring of knowledge, able to fluidly change shape and reform at will. Instilled with its own sentience and reality-warping magic, it awaits its creator's command to rise. Its greatest power is not in its god-level magical abilities, but rather its evolving intellect, capable of rapidly adapting, learning and changing its resilience and tactics to fulfill the command of X. Physical attacks are sloughed off, while magical ones are counted with equal force, all with the ever shifting sands that compose it. It may take the appearance of a full colossus, or simply a large-half torso rising from the desert sand. Capable of great destruction to erase anything that offends X, the sleeping colossus rarely awakens due to X's neutral stance and general permissiveness. Thus it befittingly lies in secret, a sight few have seen in action, and fewer still survive to tell of its existence.

Stance:

Thoughts from Thought

Since the death of Fate, the entire world is left without purpose. The destruction of the Creator God and the ascension of a new Goddess of War marks the beginning of the end. The imbalance must be corrected, and a new King of the Gods must rise. Yet without anyone to act as Fate and guide the process, who shall be the one to restore balance to the cosmos? Who shall gather the cores of the surviving gods stop the cycle of destruction? The one King must be allied with all the gods. And yet... Perhaps it is right to seek out the body of the fathers to learn from.

Loyalty During the Rebellion:

Neutral

Knowledge came to the conclusion that neither side would be able to overpower the other. The feat of striking down the Allfather was impressive, but not without the certainty of mutual destruction. A powerplay done as an upheaval of the heavens, and X served as recorder of such events, and consul to whoever seeks what he had to offer. The many deaths of fellow gods recorded in his books, the first being Fate.

Center of Power:

The Tree of Knowledge

The living embodiment of collective sentience, the core of X's power is a microcosm of its own. Inside the crystal orb a tree that lives for as long as thoughts may occur. The more leaves it has the more minds to sustain the discourse, yet should it appear frail and dying, the more ignorance is upon the world. Kept in a massive tree which grew around it, within his chambers the core is guarded by X and his magics to require multiple Gods working in unison to render the world dim and dumb.

Relations:

The Librarian of Heaven

In accordance to his purpose, X maintains his neutrality. Few enemies he considers, the other gods are neutral or friendly, though perhaps he cannot see himself as an ally to anyone in particular due to his stance on keeping knowledge open for the gods. What favoritism would surely tarnish his impartial view on the fellow gods.
Yet that is not to say some views are more welcoming than others. Though each God or Goddess has a purpose, and no enmity should arise from such fulfillment of one's purpose.

Notes on the Gods

God of Darkness - Friendly: Darkness which brings meaning to light, he hides away his secrets as I.
God of Dragons - Neutral: Lord of the serpents, his children make for specimens of awe in eating my followers.
Gods of Fertility - Neutral: Populates the world, without them life fails to blossom in new iterations.
God of the Forge - Friendly: Progress past creation, he shall usher in a new age by steel and fire.
God of The Hunt - Neutral: To hunt for a sliver of information, without him all would remain hidden.
God of Knowledge - Self: Knowledge brings forth more Knowledge, we are one together in this.
Goddess of Life - Neutral: That which begins the experiment, she is the river that quenches thirst.
God of Lust - Neutral: A being true to desires, without him there is no motivation to act.
God of Mankind - Friendly: Lord of such curious creations, he is made for them truly.
God of Murder - Friendly: Silencer of Secrets, he is most useful to hold the spread of forbidden knowledge.
Goddess of Nature - Neutral: Tempered as the changing seasons, she is as beautiful as she is fierce.
God of Predators - Neutral: King of the beasts, he prides his untamed savagery.
God of The Sea - Neutral: A mind ever changing as the seas, he is the madness within lurking.
God of Sorrows - Friendly: The bringer of hope, he lights the path for the lost traveller.
Goddess of Storms - Neutral: Destroyer of civilizations, she erases what is built for new growth with her rain.
God of The Stars - Friendly: What stories are written among the stars, he is heavens own scribe.
God of the Sun - Friendly: The celestial eye, he bears the blinding truth of light.
God of Undeath - Friendly: An offer to mortals of false immortality, his methods are to be noted.
God of The Underworld - Friendly: The departed souls bear information, he is librarian of souls.
Goddess of War - Friendly: A third generation goddess, she has far surpassed her father.

Powers:

Divine Arcana

Shared Sight: his elective blindness closes one door, but opens many more in return. Without eyes X borrows the sight of others anywhere he wills. Their vision becoming clear in his mind as a surrogate method to see the world. Such a feature can be extended to any number of individuals, as many as his mind cares to process and attend to creating a many faceted view. The seer is generally unaware of being used in such a manner, but astute observers can notice a shadowy figure of the god within the reflected in the used pupils. Such ability allows him to experience the life through the eyes of a mortal, while also allows him to keep watch over what occurs in the world around him.

Mind over Matters: Not a physical combatant amongst the gods, X is hardly capable in hand-to-hand combat. However his head-to-head prowess is beyond most gods. His mind is a mental bastion, incorruptible and unswayed by anything but logic. Most powerful however is his ability to presides over knowledge. With a touch he can bestow any amount of knowledge he desires into the mind, capable of suddenly enlightening even the most feral of creatures to cosmopolitan levels. However with the same touch done for a different purpose, X can perfectly erase the thoughts of others, absorbing them for his purposes as the memory is obliterated. A mind-crushing ability that can render lesser beings into a tabula rasa state. Allowing him to fill the mind with whatever he information chooses.

Divine Magic: Patron of magic and the granter of it upon mortals, X can warp reality to his will as it is his own eye which is being used as the conduit to do so, while another anchors reality to avoid its complete destruction. This reality warping is produced as magic, making mass appear and disappear, changing forms from one to another, opening holes in the fabric to summon things as necessary from far flung places. Anything one can imagine can be executed, produced within an area equal to how much strain the fabric of reality can hold. Of course when using magic to contest a gods own element, such a point is moot as even X's magic cannot supercede the authority of a god's own being. However, he can reproduce similar powers of other gods, albeit it to a lesser effect as magic merely bends reality not break it.

Incorporeality: Being little more than half a face and a pair of hands floating beneath a hooded robe, X is a difficult god to grasp, both mentally and physically. He floats defying natural laws, wispy and ethereal save for times he chooses to be solid. Curiously The robes are very much part of his body, suggesting his form is chosen in such a way. Which in turn, begs the question if he is able to change forms or if this is how he was created.

Godly Equipment:

Paradoxes of X

Collectively known as the Paradoxes of X, these are the instruments of the god though rarely found on his person. They are stored away elsewhere until recalled or summoned. The Ledger for example is stored within the grand temple of the Order of the Moth which resides in his capital city of Akhkabaren. While the Hand and Eyes are out of the reach of most mortals in the heavenly realm.

The Divine Ledger

One of the paradoxes of X. A mystical book of infinite pages, each turn does nothing to thin the amount of information contained. It is considered to be the god's Mind, for the Ledger contains everything, every possible scrap of knowledge that was or will be, contained within the ancient tome. Every book ever written, every manual, every guide, anything said by anyone at any point in existence, is recorded within the Ledger. And yet it is impossible for anyone to use without understanding how to use it to find what information they need, rather than what they want. Within the bindings the secrets to the universe and more, but should the book judge this knowledge is not pertinent to you, then it will allow a desperate fool to flip page after page trying to seek the answer they were unworthy to know. Such a book was used by X to create his great library, storing the innumerable amount information within a finite space.

The Third Hand

Another Paradox of X. A mystical weapon the size and appearance of a god's stone hand, a pulsating core of arcana embedded in its palm. Described as a Hand severed from his own divine body, the relic is linked with X. The god's will becoming its actions, able to move freely and create the same reality-warping effects of magic through the arcane essence it wields. The same core allows the hand to manifest various energy weapons to be used in combat should another god weapon be used, sending out the weapon without harm to the controller. It is a weapon that wields itself.

The Right Eye

Still another Paradox of X. A mystical tool the size and appearance of a massive stone orb, a cracks with arcana leaking through. It is the heart of magic, pulsating its power throughout the cosmos. Described as X's Right Eye, plucked out to bestow the knowledge of magic upon the mortal world. It blindly provides the source of all sorcery, without consideration for what purpose they are used for. However it does limit how much magic can be done, as its function serves as a basis to all magic. Any magic invoked is an argument against reality, it is to convince the universe that something should be where it was not, a flame appearing at your fingertips is the remaking of reality to accommodate your request for fire magic. This relic amplifies the ability of the argument, allowing those who control the massive object or even in its presence to shape reality with ease as the supreme magical being. However the more it is used, the more cracks shall appear on its shell, until finally the inner core is released and all magic shall be undone, every spell that was ever cast unwoven as true reality snaps back into place and the eye once more is encased.

The Left Eye

The last Paradox of X. A mystical device the size and appearance of a massive crystal orb containing an unstable core of energy, swirling the faint traces of particulates within the hollow sphere. It is the nexus, a singularity point connecting the cosmos through space and time. Described as X's Left Eye, plucked out and placed at the critical juncture in the universe such that his gaze sees all upon the mortal world. It serves as a junction between space and time, an anchor for reality which may change under the influence of magic. This stabilizes the fabric even while parts of it are being tailored and remade, while also allowing portals to be made and scrying to be done. Both are methods to fold the pieces of reality closer, swirling portals to teleport you from one gateway to another all use the singularity as a place in transit, while scrying works to bring images of the destination into view. This relic allows those who control the massive object or even in its presence to view and travel through any point reality with ease. However the more it is used, the more fractured the user will become, scattered throughout the fabric with every use, becoming blinder with each scry and less corporeal with every journey. Until eventually, the user becomes part of the fabric, part of the silent consciousness of the universe.

Kingdom of God:

Thethoth, Realm of Endless Sands

The southern desert was not always a desert. Thethoth was once known by another name, but such a name is long forgotten in the minds of mortals. It was here where X the god of Knowledge, Secrets and Magic plucked out his eyes and cast them to the heavens, granting the gift of magic to the world in exchange for his blindness. His hands touched the earth and from the earth raised his tower. A library where he gropingly planted the seed in fertile earth around the Core. And to conceal his tree, the blinded god decided to make an inhospitable desert. So all three were born, Magic, Tree, and Desert sand: thus Thethoth began.

Lands

Land of Sand and Stone

A desert, arid and hot, the jutting stones that dot the landscape break the monotony of flattened sand.
The sands are endless and expand indefinitely, to every side around you with no cooling oasis is sight.
The sweltering heat beats down and the towering pillars shadow the shifting sands, life thirsts and withers.
Armies would slow to a crawl between the heat, sandstorms and rough terrain, and ill prepared travelers die.
Generally an inhospitable place to survive without magic, and only passing birds pick at the sun-bleached bones.
Yet still it thrives, it manages, the touch of magic upon the land allowing some life to exist on the edges. Camels and horses for example, wander sands in search for the rare oasis, created by the magics of the beings that live there.

Thethothian Nights

The nightfall is cool, but ever dry, guided only by the celestial sky the desert moths emerge from the sands. These white moths flutter through the desert, an unbelievable sight as they fly in the air searching for a lush oasis to pollinate and lay their young before returning to their sandy burrows. These moths are for the most part harmless, though have an affinity to magic as normal moths may have to a flame. They are a symbol of the desert, and perhaps the only life native to it as the land.

People

Men of Thethoth

Of the people who do survive to find the pockets of life scattered across the endless lands, most are magically inclined or in the company of mages. Some settlers have managed to live within the cities that dot the central landscape, each protected by magical structures built long ago. The majority of the populace are humans, however other races can be found intermingling. As these meccas of life thrive at the foot of pyramids and monoliths which make the desert more bearable. People usually come seeking some information or magical trade goods that fall into the hands of this land, some however find the artificial living environments to be a very agreeable life style and become permanent residents. Ones that are still alive at least.

The Order of the Moths

Other Names: Moth Mages, White Moths, Mystic Moths.

White Moths

The mystical order of the White Moths. Ever concealed in their white robes, they are devotees of X, sourced from everywhere. Beings of all sorts, each seeking a life immersed in knowledge and magic. Like reclusive monks most reside within in his capital, maintaining the great library and with their task of cataloging all knowledge in existence itself by being granted access to The Ledger. From which their high-priests read from and dictate knowledge that is to be transcribed upon giant stone blocks. undertaking tasked by X to be completed, both parties well knowing it is an impossible task, though the rewards of dedication come in being more illuminated than most mortals can achieve after years of study. As such it they have become in large the curators of his realm. They create the desert sands by carving out the writings within X's collection into massive blocks of stone with eldritch powers, and then once a book has been fully transcribed the block is magically shrunk to the size of a grain of sand. Thus is X's realm able to record all that that was, is and possibly will be and conceal the endless knowledge outside the library the realm. And new streams of sand pour out from the floating city of scholars.

Some White Moths however do travel and establish satellite libraries outside of Thethoth wherever their presence is tolerated. And as such these emissaries are akin to missionaries, offering troves of information to those seeking knowledge regardless of their intent. As well as secretly regulating the flow of information within the local area, becoming the dominate library within the area despite what private collections exist, it is difficult to surpass the collection of the White Moths. The satellite libraries all have portals which link back to the grand temple at Akhkabaren, but the portals are usually magically locked and are one-way trips unless the grand temple allows trips from the satellite site to them.

White Moths at work.

White Moth Satellite Libraries

White Moth Grand Library

Culture

The Cultured Citizens

The Scholars of Thethoth

A land devoted to the God of Knowledge is rich in culture. Tolerant of many things most would find offensive, the residents of Thethoth are usually scholars, artisans, and magi. Distinguished by their olive-bronze skin tones, the ancestors of those living in Thethoth are well adapted to the climes using a tradition of magic and sorcery to survive the otherwise unbearable desert. But such is life in the dessert that even the subtleties of its life can be found throughout the cultural diaspora. For example, clothing mostly comes in robes for the intellectually inclined, or very little clothing for those residents who are seen as more boorish folk. Both keep the body cool, however a cultured citizen will wear the prestigious robes, the more eloquent and adorned the more impressive a symbol of status despite the ruling elite being the simple white robes of the Order of the Moth. White is a color reserved for the highest powers in the cities, the purity of such color symbolizing the rank by being able to wear white as the rare white silk-fibers come from the Moths themselves, and to wear white is to tempt fate to stain it. Hence why only those in a seat of honor traditionally wear white, while all others wear a multitude of colors. Of course this is the generality rather than the rule, as many outsiders come and go amongst the cities.

Despite the phelthora of magical items sold at the bazaars, Weaponry carried by non-public defenders is generally regarded with a wary eye within the cities, but tolerated for the sake of visitors and trade. A staff is perhaps the most welcome of these, especially of used as a walking stick, but to carry a sword is to rouse suspicion. Furthermore, residents of Thethoth usually wear unique enchanted gemstone jewelry in various forms, one that which easily mark an outsider for lacking one, this piece of jewelry is used in their burial rites, as the gemstone shall be used to carve the name and record of the dead upon the magical pyramid walls. The gem is then embedded into the wall above and used as a final tie to land of the living, such that their long-dead spirit may be summoned from the underworld to seek advise or testaments of past events. Their corporeal bodies are destroyed in the funerary rites, but some magi fear death and have chosen the path of undeath to continue their studies. But that is not to say there are no rules within the city, no there are a few regulations that attempt to keep order and balance in check, yet this does not stop the occasional murder or theft. That said, nothing is said to go on without X's knowledge of it. Hence if it has occurred, then it is argued to reason that the god of this realm has allowed it to occur. Such is the general philosophy of the citizens, leaving the events in the wisdom of the gods.

The Nomads of the Desert

There are also some nomadic tribes who scour the desert sands outside the cities. Compared to the city-folk, these nomads find a harsh life in the barren desert. They are tough, sinewy, and hardy survivalists who depend not on magic to live their day to day. In contrast to their urban counterparts, these citizens scavenge what they can find, and often robbing lost travelers before leaving them for dead. Safe passage can be bought however, with gifts and sustenance. Sometimes these nomads venture near settlements and cause concern, but the magical defenses usually keep them away. Goods are traded by leaving them just outside of either's comfort zone, wordless negotiations as things are offered in exchange for a fair price. Although be warned, negotiate a clearly terrible deal, and they may be very unreasonable.

They are a warrior culture, exceptional with bows and arrows to combat the shielding sorcery that would otherwise blast them with flashes of flame from afar. Their deadliest arrows are made from the remains of dead giants, the Senet, destroyed during the war of gods, sacred magebane arrows that pierce the power of magic ignoring the effects they may have. They revere the remains as sanctuaries against magic, and will defend the corpses with a fanatical fervor, more valued than a life-giving oasis or well.

The Court Politics

An Emir of Thethoth

Thethoth is a unified land, composed of far-flung cities that carve out the territorial lines in the desert. Each city is largely independent as individual city states, but are quite literally under the rule of the Capital city. Each city-state is ruled by an Emir as an executive head, protector and chief of the entire city administration. The Emir in turn has a vizier, who offers advice on governing, as well as a local council of White Moths Emissaries who represent the highest level of administration stemming from the Capital. Beneath the Emir come the nobles, mages and scholars of note, who generate wealth for the city or renown, who create an executive chamber that lobby the Emir regarding local laws within the unseen boundaries of the cities. The military forces however are far and few in number, but most problems in the desert tend to resolve themselves one way or another.

The Administrative Chambers

Laws are for the most part lax, going back to the philosophy that the gods control all aspects of life, all events being guided by their will. The basic tenets set standards which society ought to follow, however exceptions can be made for certain cases. Murder for example, is generally not permitted, unless there is proper evidence and paperwork decreeing the death has been sanctioned by another governmental force, either than of another city-state or another kingdom. These credentials must be surrendered either prior to or immediately after such a crime is committed to the Emir's administration who pass the information off to the White Moths, and as such up the chain of command. On the other hand, if an attempted murder occurs, then the target of the writ is permitted to defend themselves against the assailant so as long as no other individuals are harmed in the process as the Emir will not intercede in such an affair unless public damages are done and if so such damages are claimed for reimbursement to the surviving party. Another common sight to see is Undeath, as a few mages seek to escape the cold embrace of death, they and their thrall are generally allowed within the cities, however are asked to keep their profiles low, usually underground and in the dark in a less than literal sense. Vices are another common regulation, houses of ill-repute can be found, often a wide selection as even mages need to experience pleasures of flesh beyond the mind alone; exotic fantasies can occur with dream brothels and brocades. And finally slavery is completely illegal within the cities, although servants are allowed, they are expected to be treated with a degree of humanity. Which is not to say slavery does not exist, in reaches were the laws influence in thin...

The Great Pyramids

The Pyramids that rise from the desert sands are built long before the cities at their feet. Taking inspiration from the Inverted Pyramid that elevated the Capital, these lesser pyramids were originally built to store arcane power, conduits of energy to project wards against the desert sandstorms and heat. However, now they serve as a vault of knowledge past, as the names of the dead are inscribed within the jeweled walls. A gateway sits in the middle, a veil for the soul to pass directly into the underworld or for a mortal to visit such a dreary realm. However such a gate serves the purpose of being able to recall a long dead spirit from the afterlife, summoned by sorcery to walk against among the living for what moments they may have to impart some wisdom or recall history to whet the curiosity of the mind. This allows the knowledge of the ages to be stored as their linked gems serve as a final tie to the living. It is forbidden for mere mortals to enter such pyramids without the accompaniment of the local powers, however divine beings are free to enter and leave as they see fit.

Portal to the Underworld

The Pyramid Cities

Civilization Rises

Cites often are built at the foot of the pyramids, the greatest ones have multiple among their skyline. A large metropolis city will have two or three, while smaller towns will have one. City life is rather busy, vibrant with business and trade. Before the sun breaks the city awakens in the darkness, burning lamp oil to peddle their wares early or catch up on the local gossip. Food is produced in the communal city gardens, usually around a source of water magically maintained by the powers of the pyramids. The cities depend on attracting mages who pay a monthly tax and bolster the arcane energies available to maintain the pyramids, such mages also bring wares from the other cities and may pick up trinkets and crafts along their journey to the larger cities. Otherwise, life is spent in relative stability, with the comforts of life sated.

Some of the largest cities host magical bazaars where one can find all sorts of exotic objects at jaw-dropping prices. The influx of enchanters, smiths, alchemists and other artisans make such items common in Thethoth. Traders from kingdoms afar may brave the desert to find cheap magicial goods marketable for tens-to-hundredsfold more outside Thethoth. Rare books are also common here, although really nothing more than souvenirs for the uncultured masses, especially with most residents of the largest cities having exquisitely extensive private collections, even the lowest level of wealth manages to have a bookshelf or two in their modest homes. As such in the case of these cities, education is offered freely, a public offering of various lectures and topics to be discussed in various parts of the city by renown teachers, philosophers and magi. As such the literacy rate is exceptionally high in Thethoth, as with the basics of food, water, and shelter magically accounted for the city-folk have all the time to devote to leisure, entertainment and studies in the pursuit of one's interests.

City Gardens

The Magical Markets

Social Gossip

Technology:

The technology of Thethoth is some of the cutting edge the world has to offer. Bolstered by the extreme amount of magic commonly found, Thethoth sees some the greatest innovations in any kingdom. An example of magically developed technology includes Farming, capable of feeding the masses with only a small sector of land assigned to food production by magically accelerating plant growth. Animals, though rare, have been domesticated enough to be used as beasts of burden or for slaughter, most animals are birds who are trained to sing and warble for the entertainment of guests. Construction materials are usually made of stone or clay, with metal being reserved for more portable needs, all the while a small amount of wood is produced by either labor-intensive transmutation or rapidly growing trees. Fabrics include cotton, wool, and finest of all Moth Silk, reserved for the elites. Golems are also a common sight in larger cities, however the time, effort, and resources used to produce one means most will just prefer a common house servant. Gold and silver are used for common currency, however lesser denominations exist in fractional credits where a piece of a pre-produced silver coin is given, the factions being half, quarter, eight, and finally sixteenths. It was regarded as easier to price something against the weight of silver, with gold being equated to be worth ten times as much as silver and used in larger transactions.

Flying Carpets

The main form of transportation other than walking, the magic carpets of Thethoth can be used within the city given the operator is familiar with how to command and maneuver them. The air traffic is regulated to remain at least eighteen feet above the street level at all times, making those afraid of heights think otherwise when riding in a rather open vehicle. Repair of these carpets require magical thread, a task for a skilled weaver and enchanter. They are usually stored rolled up, and sold by vendors who promise their carpets are the fastest or the most luxurious in a bid for customers.

Clockwork Curiousites

Fine artisans, inventors and engineers are attracted to Thethoth, often by patronage of eccentric wizards who have little use for coin. That said, some of the most novel uses of clockwork mechanics can be found here. Wind-up toys to even complex devices used by lazy mages to scroll through scrolls. Such delicate machines are usually appreciated as objet d'art. The beauty in these works is how they seem to move like magic, which captivate the mind of even the most learned sorcerer.

The Finest Weapons and Armor

Metallurgy is augmented with magic often in the lands of Thethoth. Such items can bear enchantments ranging for mildly useful such as allowing the wearer of full-plate steel to float, or even as impressive as a sword that spouts flames. That said, staves and wands are also produced for the markets, but most magi prefer to fashion their own, personalizing them with ornate touches rather than commissioning one made from a senior magi.

Magical Alchemy Cures All

The Art of Alchemy begins to be married to the budding branches of medicine as science. Somewhere between chemistry, magic and physiology the alchemists of Thethoth manage to cure most common ailments, ranging from magical curses to regrowing a limb. Although the process of regrowing a limb is rather painful, and unfortunately shortens ones life expectancy as the regenerative abilities of the body are burned up as by the alchemical law of equivalent exchange, such is the price for a new limb

Capital City

Jibsheut, The Inverted Pyramid

The Desert within the desert. The Inverted Pyramid Jibsheut rises above the land of Thethoth as an imposing structure which casts its shadow across the land like a sundial. One part of the desert is covered in its massive shadow which sweeps across the sands during the day after which the moonlight continues the pattern and illuminates the rest of the arabian night. Such a cycle helps to cool areas of the desert off, though the shadow does not completely dominate the entire kingdom per say, most cities experience the effect once.

Inside the newest sands of the desert lay dormant, generated by the Order of the Moths daily. Outside its black stone walls the sands pour out from the shrinking and refilling hidden desert to expand the desert beneath the mega-structure. Like a giant hourglass the levels of sand rise and fall within the Inverted Pyramid, pouring out in ever growing numbers with the grains of sand like cascading waterfalls. It's true purpose however, is to harbor the capital city it was constructed around: Akhkabaren.

The walls dampen the effects of the elements around it and within it, magically simulating the sun and moon as both truly lay outside the enclosure, the skies of Jibsheut mimic the actual celestial spheres in astronomic projections, the surreal interiors immerse the land in a sense of floating in space, an attempt at creating heaven for mortals to ponder. The structure also serves to protect the city from the war zones, lifting it high above armies that would attempt to take it, entering the pyramid requires flight and great strength or magic to appear above the level of sands.

Akhkabaren, Capital of Thethoth

An ancient city lifted by a god, Akhkabaren lies within the protection of Jibsheut, hidden from the rest of the world in a desert within the desert. It was originally a city of scholars, magi from across the world seeking the wisdom of the gods. They made their ancient towers here, competing with their contemporaries in contests to establish supreme dominance over the arcane arts. So great was the concentration of arcane power found here that the rest of Thethoth trembled before the duels fought against the world's greatest wizards and champions. Thus in his infinite wisdom, X had intervened and enclosed the magical metropolis within an arcane barrier in an attempt to lessen the effects of such reality warping magic on the rest of the world.

But its reputation for being the greatest mecca of knowledge and the esoteric far exceeded the difficulty in relocating there, and Akhkabaren became the splendor of the magi. Golden towers to match those of X's single tower emerged from the sands, the Order of the Moth born from the most devout and their library built. From there it was merely time before the levels of magic within the city exceeded the strength of the barriers placed as the city developed into a sprawling city of magic. Universities, Wizard guilds, Laboratoriums, all appeared as mortals aspired to become gods, magic had allowed them to exceed the upper limits as they tested their god X. And he in turn allowed their pursuits to test the limits of their knowledge, how far their minds can go before succumbing to the mental breakdown form which the spiraled into with the whispers of his voice. Still they tried to grasp that which was forbidden to them: the apotheosis of mortals.

For They had their aspirations, to reach the heavens above and walk as gods amongst men. For this X found their paradoxical devotion to become his equal curious. And willed the black stone walls of Jibsheut to seal off Akhkabaren from the rest of the world below. Deemed too dangerous to leave on the surface, the god of knowledge lifted the city into the sky where it sits removed from the rest of Thethoth. With the skies painted to simulate the cosmos, a glimpse into the heavens above, they believed it to be their ascension. And X had his isolated experiment upon which perhaps he could grant a single mortal worthy of one day calling him brother...

Keyrings

Getting around a large magical city is somewhat difficult, especially in a city build by mages and not architects. That said, many buildings in Akhkabaren retain portals rather than doors for visitors to come and leave. This portal system essentially connects Akhkabaren together more than the sandy city streets. Even the gate out of the city is merely to allow larger parties to come and go bearing impossibly large goods. But for those first time visitors who are unfamiliar with how the city works, there is a kiosk at the gate which provides Keyrings, which activate the dormant intracity portals found throughout the city streets. Travelling is as simple as placing the signet sigil upon the gatestone and turning to a combination of twists and turns that correspond to a portal gate location in the city. That said knowing the combinations is the trick, and first time visitors are encourage to have set up a guide to the city. The main city gate is attuned to intercity connections, and serves as a hub for many other portal gates around the world.

Ankhatem, Seat of Knowledge and Wisdom

Within Akhkabaren, lies Ankhatem the library of X. It is the central tower reaching the heavens as a finger of god, the seat of where X can be found day to day meditating upon the universe, watching through the eyes of mortals below glimpses of their life. It is his sanctum and his residence, where The Order of the Moth venerate him as servitors to a low-maintenance god. The highest ranks of the order reside in the tower, keeping the books in order, tending to the collection of knowledge gathered through the centuries by their divine patron. It is there were they may discover information otherwise withheld from the world, the secret knowledge bound within the books here fill the mind with a lifetime of learning. However their perfect enlightenment comes at a cost, for they cannot be allowed to speak of such insights, their minds erased the moment they attempt to disseminate such information to the common rabble.

Growth of Knowledge

Upon the highest floor, observing over all of Akhkabaren, the Tree of Knowledge is found within the false tree of knowledge which has grown around the library. The false tree grows far and spreads its white petals which occasionally magically turn into the white desert moths seen across Thethoth. The moths in turn are collected by the Order who raise them to spin their holy robes from. The God X himself spends time in mediation within the canopy, although from time to time he will provide a scrap of information in an open exchange of knowledge. Newly promoted members of the Order who are accepted to study within the halls are expected to present their own publication for ascension to be placed upon the filled shelves of the library.

Books of Magic and Magical Books

The books found within X's personal library are great, however the greatest of them are not the books of magic, written by great magi of old, but rather the magical books penned by X himself. These magical books are gateways into the mind, portals which seem to invite the reader to enter them as an illusion of a world appears from the pages. Like a simulation, readers of these books are actually experience everything within the minds theatre, placed in a deep consciousness as they explore the worlds the book create within their head. Escaping one requires the mental fortitude to want to escape the limitless imagination and return into reality. And some White Moths, no matter how powerful, have never returned from opening one of these books.

A Collection of Specimens

The Canopic Jars

A showcase of knowledge beyond books, scattered across the tower are the remains of various races, displayed openly for scholars to observe and take note as they float in magical preservation. They have been stripped to their components, in the soft glowing arcane canisters, with layers of reconstruction underneath, their organs and viscera able to be put back on piece by piece according to the needs of those who wish to study the macabre anatomy. Even X's own creations can be found, preserved only to be pulled apart in their destruction suggesting a darker side in the pursuit of knowledge.

The Prized Jewel

Greatest among these however is a fallen sister, yes even the gods of the realm are not beyond study as X hosts the decapitated head of the goddess of Love. Killed in the wars, as her face still captures the horror of her last moments, now captured forever for mortal eyes to behold what became of Love. A goddess he could never phantom, irrational and illogical, it was only fitting that the god of Knowledge preserve her head to find what went through her mind... Rather than her heart.

The Dark Sands

Beneath the tower lies the dungeons. A place of unspeakable horrors done in the name of understanding. It is here where X prepares the bodies, a White Moth shown the true lengths of which one must undertake to gain knowledge. Here the secrets of beings being studied, alive or dead to glean greater information to advance the field of knowledge. It is these dark experiments buried deep beneath the magical city that the sands may recall the most gruesome of discoveries...

Magical Beings:

There are a quite a number of magical beings that roam the sands of Thethoth. Some are benign to mortals, some are malicious, while others still are indifferent. Of those created by X, all a purpose, the first being the Sphinges which were an attempt to create companions and servitors. Yet X could not bring himself to dominate them as puppets, having chosen to instill within them the sentience of free will as part of his creation. They were free to do as they wish in their existence, such that perhaps a small part of him would be free from having to commit to the purpose for which he was made. All other things X has learned to limit such freedom, and force upon them a purpose to which they were created, a lesson he learned after the folly of the Sphinges.

The Sphinx

Race Name: The Sphinx
Other Names: Faceless Sphinx, Ghost Sphinx, Mirage Sphinx, Masked Sphinx.

A Faceless Sphinx

Race description: The Sphinx, or more aptly the Sphinges, was created by X, God of Knowledge, Secrets and Magic. Eternally connected to their creator, each is given a name, of which they are compelled conceal as they are bound to grant a single wish within their power to whoever calls them by their name. And yet they are also innately truthful, and must tell the truth. As such, they like their creator, speak in riddles. Offering a riddle in lieu of speaking their name to those seeking it to gain control over the Sphinx. And though they cannot lie and must grant a wish to those who call upon their hidden names, it does not mean they are without free agency to fulfill that wish in anyway they see fit. They are long-lived legendary lifeforms which may alter reality itself in ways a minor god can by using their innate connection to Magic. Yet they too are mortal and can be killed, albeit with their god-like abilities, it is very difficult.

Biology: The Sphinx's body itself is selectively immaterial, the blue eagle-feathered wings and powerful lion-like body is straddles between incorporeal and corporeal as their beautiful manes wistfully fade away. Retractable claws match the golden colour of the only definitely solid piece of its existence: A golden mask. They lack eyes, ears, noses and mouths, and yet still retain their senses by a telepathic ability, but lacking such physical features they do not need to eat or drink, nor breathe, although they are capable of resting appearing as nothing more than their blank mask as the dematerialize themselves. It is ill advised to attempt to wear one, or wake one. Despite the odd biology, or rather lack of biology, Sphinges are able to mate, although the exact process is a considered a mystery, yet remember these beings can change reality as they please, as such producing offspring is nothing to question. Each Sphinx can live indefinitely, but most seem to enter a fugue state after the first five or six millennia, a Sphinx that has yet to live a their first millennia is considered a mere child. Death usually comes by destruction of the mask which contains their consciousness, and it is said their consciousness return to X as the god absorbs all the knowledge and secrets it has learned over the course of the Sphinx's life time.

The Ushabti

Race Name: The Ushabti
Other Names: Silent Statue, Stone Sentries, City Guards.

A Silent Statue

Race description: The Ushabti, both plural and singular in use, was another creation by X, God of Knowledge, Secrets and Magic. Carved from the stone and imbued with limited basic sentience, these magical constructs serve to maintain order for their creator. Nameless masses which as their name suggests, are mute in their actions, often found stationed throughout as watchers. They are able to assume a still state, recording everything that occurs within their senses and make for ideal guards when they suddenly spring to life. They can be controlled by certain incantations, known by select individuals. In combat the Ushabti are able to channel the magics within them into blasts of arcane power and have basic martial training with their carried scepters. And finally, being constructs rather than organic beings, they are technically immortal for as long, but can fall into disrepair and be destroyed.

Construction: The Ushabti are made from sandstone blocks, their solid bodies animated by magic which articulate the hard material with limbs and joints. Inside their statue-esque forms is a scroll of magic which empowers the statue to move along with the spells they cast. The inscriptions on their bodies describe their functions, written in esoteric script. Creating one is a feat as even well-practiced magic users fail at being able to imbue sorcerous abilities to their golems, but the Ushabti are created by the Order of the Moths as personal protectors. The process is a well-guarded secret, and no one mortal knows the entire requirements to produce one, rather taking measures to portion out the creation to different individuals.

The Senet

Race Name: The Senet
Other Names: Moth Enforcer, Stone Destroyers, Temple Guards.

A Stone Destroyer

Race description: The Senet, both plural and singular in use, was another creation by X, God of Knowledge, Secrets and Magic. Created for the purposes of defending Thethoth from the armies of the warring gods. Like the Ushabti, they are carved from the stone and imbued with sentience to maintain order for their creator, bound to the will of X as part of his standing defenses. They are unable to use magic, however they are also unaffected by it in return, seemingly ignoring magical effects and attacks to tear into battle with their weapons. Yet in times of a tentative peace, these giants have little function and wander the endless sands searching for purpose. Some are find it by serving the Order of the Moths, as intimidating enforcers among the magical community. For the most part however, they are relics of another era, cursed with an immortality to exist on until their god whispers their orders once more.

Construction: The Senet are made from sandstone blocks, shaped into centaurian models for speed, strength, and skill, each personally sculpted by X and imbued with sentience. The stone joints articulate naturally, stone on sandanimated by magic which articulate the hard material with limbs and joints. A divine blessing protects them from magic, a ward nullifying the reality-bending effects magic has. They are few in number, but the fragments of one destroyed in the war still contain parts of X's protection, and are prized by collectors to create magic-proof objects. Scavengers roam the deserts trying to find a graveyard's trove of these ancient creations.

The Isfet

Race Name: The Isfet
Other Names: Desert Demons, Desert Elementals.

Race description: The Isfet, or more Isfets if mulitple, were creations of the Sphinges, themselves creations of X: God of Knowledge, Secrets and Magic. In an attempt to create life, just as their creator has, the Sphinges created the Isfet based on the humans they have seen, combining a magical ability and selective corporeality to them just like the Sphinges. However the Isfet rebelled against their creators, who had enslaved them with a similar cursed without true freedom. They freed themselves of their masters, and have been at odds ever since. Yet even still their united cause splintered from the original tribe, a rift among the Isfet caused birth of four factions, and four different subspecies each with their own personalities and affinities. They are long-lived legendary lifeforms with magical powers above those of most mortals, yet they too are mortal and can be killed, albeit with some difficulty.

Biology: The Isfet are modeled after humans, with upper bodies of man that fade into elemental smoke below the level of their waist. Their forms are selectively immaterial, the varied skin tones of their flesh straddle between incorporeal and corporeal as they please. While they do need to eat and drink, they do not need to sleep as they never tire. That said, they do sleep if they so choose to, by placing themselves in a magical trance state. Curiously, all Isfet are male, and how more are made is a subject scholars debate and argue. Some claim they interbreed with other humanoids beings they enslave, producing offspring with mixed features which then are bred to produce more pure offspring and so forth. Others question if the Isfet have found a means to magically transform genders and simply surrogate a female role, although this begs the question of intentional anatomy on behalf of their creators. Finally some speculate they prey on solitary Sphinges, forcing them to create more of their kin after battles of magic throughout the desert. In death, the Isfet dissolve into nothing, leaving no trace of their physical bodies as the magic of their creators wish them away.

Djinn

The Isfet connected to the Winds, they are perhaps the most agreeable in mortal view. Their communities travel across the desert, wandering nomads in magical caravans composed of sand-skiffs. ship-like vessels that float inches off the desert sands and are pushed by the winds. They are traders who lure travelers with food and drink, plying them with dance and music from their enslaved harems. Although should they offend a Djinn, they should be wary of the sudden changes in mood they will have. It is better to offer them a trade in their favour, while enjoying their entertainment, lest they wish to make some sporting entertainment out of you by watching your body be taken up in a desert twister.

Pt'Jib, Great Desert Sailing Ship

Jann

The Isfet connected to the Stones, they are perhaps the most primitive in mortal view. Their communities retain the tribal nature of their origin and are marked by small villages across the desert. They are raiders who terrorize travelers in ambushes, waiting beneath the desert sands or towering rock to strike. Captives are either brutally killed, or enslaved to be worked to death or sold to other Isfet. They sometimes align themselves with the nomadic peoples of Thethoth, and go on joint raiding ventures, attacking cities from time to time in looting skirmishes. Generally not done unless both parties are desperate, or if there is a particularly tempting target.

Dw'jib, A Jann village

Marid

The Isfet connected to the Waters, they are perhaps the most mercurial in mortal view. They are solitary, and reside near rare places of water. As such they are usually seen by cities or even within them, enjoy a local populace that fears and honors them with gifts. An Oasis is usually a sign of one, especially in cities without pyramids. However they are fickle creatures, capable of generating great fortunes to the people that appease them, or destroying them by various plots and schemes of vengeance. They are sometimes worshiped even by cults, though their existence is kept a secret by followers for concern of alerting the proper authorities to the presence of an Isfet within the city. For such reasons, these Isfet tend to be mavens who serve as high-status kingpins in the criminal underworld.

Nt'jib, A city with a Marid Patron

Ifrit

The Isfet connected to the Fires, they are perhaps the most attractive in mortal view. They are social creatures, having created a city of their own to match those in Thethoth. Built upon the back of a golem construct, the city moves and walks across the desert as a mobile wonder. They are fiery creatures, both in personality and temper, aggressive, passionate, and bold. They will broker deals with mortals, working their magics in trade for services to be rendered, becoming masters by pulling favours and contracts. They take well to flattery, giving themselves fanciful titles and preferring to be addressed in eloquent descriptions of their splendor. Yet, they are also very prideful beings, and insulting one is easy as not having serenaded them with at least three titles of how awesome they are. At which upon being insulted, they tend to destroy that which annoys them in an burning inferno.

Kh'Jib, the Moving Ifrit City

The Ma'at

Race Name: The Ma'at
Other Names: Desert Angels, Pure Moths.

A Desert Angel

Race description: The Ma'at, both singular and plural, were created by X, God of Knowledge, Secrets and Magic to balance out the Isfet. Creating another race in response to the failings of his first creation, the sphinges, the Ma'at are made in his image. Mystic and otherworldly, present but distant as they fly gracefully through the desert sky upon four wings. They are sightless, just as their creator, lacking anything above the line of their hoods and instead sense the magic around them like a moth to pheromones in the air. Hence their affiliation with moths that often follow their wake. They were created for a singular purpose, and exist solely to fulfill it, though they are still under the direct command of X. Yet only so many were made for the problem, and the godly wars halted their creation and reduced their numbers as Isfet took sides with War, forcing the Ma'at to flock to the aid of the the King of the Gods indirectly. They are immortals granted magical powers on par with the sphinges, and are unrestrained in their purpose to destroy the Isfet. To destroy one requires a tremendous effort as they use their swords and sorcery to hunt down and rid the world of their polar opposites and once done, disappear by the will of X.

Biology: The Ma'at are modeled after X himself, albeit in female form with wings with which they fly on. They are ethereal beings, radiating an obvious mystic divinity to them. Their forms are graceful, but alien with long limbs and wispy bodies, seemingly delicate despite their prowess. The pale and pure white skin tones of their flesh are matched by the subtle pearly iridescence of their wings from which feathers make for prized quills by collectors despite not having any particular magical property save for unearthly beauty. Spiritual immortals, they do not need to eat, drink, or sleep and all Ma'at are female. White moths can be found following them, spinning the silken threads that they are clothed in as they flutter their dusky wings like magical diamond-dust powders. Despite their allure, seldom are mortals attracted to these beings the moment they see beyond the veil to find their fabled beauty shockingly missing half a face. Made without their eyes, they sense the magic and energies surrounding them to see, piercing past illusions and magical effects to hunt down their sworn enemies the Isfet. Finally, the Ma'at crumble away into a swarm of white moths, fluttering away should a critical strike destroy them, leaving no trace of their physical bodies save for a few feathers, sword, and hooded gown as the moths return to X to be reborn into another angelic warrior.

DemiGod

Name: Atefir the Archmagister, The Experiment, Reborn One, The Fourth Hand.

Gender: Male

Appearance:

Phenomenal Cosmic Powers

Wizened by his immortality, Atefir's eyes glow with his spark of divinity. The mysteries of the cosmos reflected in those pure electric blue orbs. His body weak beneath the starlight robes, frail as his mortal coil is taxed by the arcane energies bestowed upon it. But with silver beard and wrinkled brow, his bald crown hides beneath a scholar's cap as his arthritic hands tremble musing through his elder facial hair.

Equipment:

Was, Staff of Supremacy

A staff of arcane authority, its power far beyond lesser staffs. With crackling energies barely contained at one end while the mystic jewel glows unblinking at the other, the staff is an impressive symbol of sorcery. The personal staff presented to Atefir by X as a token of his demigodhood. It can easily create portals and wormholes without a gate or focus by burrowing through the fabric of space. With it in hand, it is possible to nullify incoming magical attacks, or redirect them using the portals. Hence the one who wields it has incredible powers over other magi.

Hekair, The Book of Eyes

Floating always within reach of Atefir, the Book of Eyes is his greatest scholarly work. Written along ago and presented to X, within it the secrets to the art of scrying, clairvoyance, and sight. Within it, spells and incantations related to seeing. Most curiously however are the otherworldly creatures summoned by the book. These grotesque entities of unknown origin, appearing from the aberrant worlds discarded as failed designs. No god created them, but rather through the eons, these strange monstrosities came to be.

Irseth

Little more than a mass of eyes dripping of flesh and sinew, the Irseth, or more commonly called 'Beholders' by non-Thethothians, are a race of gruesome creatures. They are as some claim 'spare parts of the universe' which grew sentience over the years. Others think them to be failed experiments of X in attempts to restore his sight hidden away for being such horrific messes. But their powers are great, capable of seeing everything with their ocular powers. Their unblinking eyes allow them to see in all directions at once, a complete view as they float absurdly through the air. With slime dripping tentacles they explore, horrifying those who would flinch at their many eyes capable of seeing invisible and hidden things even without light. This is due to the light-generating power of the central eye that emits a high energy light normally invisible through the dilated pupil it bears. The more unpleasant ability however is the eye ray, blasts of intensified light energy focused through the central eye. Their reproduction involves budding off the second largest eye along with some fleshy mass, which will become a central eye of the new Irseth. Fortunately the base intelligence of the Irseth is rather low, being just barely risen from the cosmic discard pile, they are little more than mindless jellyfish, floating and feeding on the absorbed eyeballs of other creatures to grow and thrive. They can be trained for rudimentary purposes, however rely on visual cues for basic orders such as pointing at objects to draw its attention and gaze there.

Heku, the Hieratic

Heku, the Servant

Heku, the Beast

Where X created the Ushabti, Atefir created Heku. Studied from the Ushabti and the Senet, Heku is a creature made from a written scroll. Just as the Ushabti and Senet were made of stone, and Wadjet out of sand, Heku is made of papyrus. The many reeds cut from the specifically grown garden, grown for six days in an abundance of magic in fertile earth. The squeezed fibers soaked for six days in the pure waters, before being woven and pressed together for six nights beneath the wind-swept moon. Then by six days in the burning sun upon the sands the perfect papyrus was made. A single scroll of seemingly endless length, the potential waiting to receive the living inscription that would animate it to a semblance of life. It took several attempts, years of preparation and research however in the end, the papyrus scroll rose and folded itself into a man. Seeing this Atefir smile, and called his creation: Heku.

Heku has been his personal servant and traveling mount ever since. More flexible than the stone statues, capable of shifting just as X's avatar Wadjet, albeit in less ways. Heku is capable of magic like the Ushabti, but can change its form to suit its purposes with ease. Should Atefir require a manservant, it takes the form of a humanoid, a hollow mummy-man of paper tending to the elderly wizard's care. Should Atefir require a transport, then Heku transforms into a beast pf burden, allowing the mage to ride it across the land in lieu of teleportation or taxing his aged body. All in all, Heku is merely a specialized Ushabti, more suited for the purposes of accompanying Atefir, and of course bringing the wonders of Thethoth to the rest of the world.

Personality:

A Gentleman and Scholar

While X exists in an uncaring void, detached from all mortal cares or affairs in the god's sanctum, Atefir remains true to his origins and understands the plight of mortals. Still distant from the common race, though not as far removed as his creator X. It is his partial humanity that makes the mage more grounded in mortal affairs. A memory of his past life, before the rise to demigodhood, still the remnants remain, clinging as the last autumn leaf in the chills of winter. Unlike X, Atefir is capable of feeling, understanding more than just understanding, but emotions. He knows the meaning of mortality, and the meaning behind it for he once was. In such a way perhaps, he is superior to his creator for love does not elude him.

Abilities:

Sorcery Supreme

Semi-Divine Magic: Perhaps renown as the greatest mage in history, if not of all time bar the gods, Atefir is able to do feats of magic that set him apart from the lesser mortal wizards. His understanding of magic far greater than the grasp of mortals, able to tap into both the arcane and the divine. While no match for a god at full power outright, mortals will wonder at the effortless negation of most spells with another. An ravaging inferno summoned by his rival quelled with a raging blizzard, a thunderous bolt of lightning countered with a impervious wall of stone. Few non-gods could claim to be his equal in terms of magic, and even then that could be contested as easily.

Insightful Analytics: With a simple glance Atefir dissects you, not in the way of his creator, but in the way an old man of experience gazes into wanton youth. With the powers of observation, he can read anyone like an open book, a few minutes is all he needs to find your inner workings. The subtle lies you wish to tell him, and even the ones you tell yourself, the Archmagister seems to know, by foresight or insight. Which perhaps in his advance age is how he can keep up with the younger upstart mages in countering their every spell with one of his own so quickly though his hands are far slower.

Fatal Flaw

Fragile Humanity: Among the demigods, Atefir is perhaps one of the physically weakest. His body still very much human even in immortality. There is no superior strength or speed, no senses or physical abilities granted to him outright save for what he already had. And now his advancing age has made it difficult for him to maintain a grasp on what divinity threatens to destroy his body. He requires daily meditations to refocus the part of X which seeks to claw itself out and return to the god.

History:

The Ascension

A mortal imbued with the forbidden. Divinity instilled within a mere human, made rather than born. Atefir is an artifical demigod, his mortality a relic of his human past, aged well as the divine infusion merely grants immortality but not youth eternal. His years long behind him, his own story begins as a mere child ends with his partial ascension. And yet history has buried his mortal name, stuck out from memory.

It began when X pondered an idea. For if a god could die, and if a god could live, could not a god be made? Not born of a birth, but created? And opportunity came at the gathering of the magi, for in the wars of gods, many powerful spellcasters declared their allegiances. Their grasp of the arcane arts, their dedication to the study was worthy for one amongst them to be the test subject. Amidst the great wars, X observed with curious interest, watching through the eyes of warriors taking part in battle. This was the first test, to notice the presence of the god of knowledge watching their victories. And those who took note were invited to partake, messages sent through a fluttering desert moth, the omen of X. The Moths led them, those survivors to the books scattered across the lands. Each an invitation to partake in a tourney. A promise of a reward far greater than bring glory to one's god and faction written clearly as the magical book became the portal. Those who resisted fought on in their petty squabbles, shunning the gracious gathering of great wizards only matched by the neutral city of Akhkabaren.

And of those who answered the call, He was among them. He who was him before his rise. A name he cannot recall, a name no one remembers. He had shown great prowess in battle against the armies, but now stood the greatest trial of all. The prize offered by X, described by the God of Knowledge, Secrets and magic was the secrets of divinity. That which they sought in their mastery of the magical arts, ways to become true gods even as they lived as gods among men. Yet as only one may be found worthy of such a secret to bear, the others must be removed. And not just removed, but destroyed, for hearing there exists a method to godhood itself was beyond what mortals were to know. X required them to be erased, not merely dead, but eradicated. This was the test of skill and faith, to whom will such knowledge be given? Who will gain the ultimate secret?

He would. For the sake of knowledge he destroyed them, the final few who lasted when the chaos erupted. Mages vaporizing mages, powerful magics cast bounding and rebound across the planar arena. All until the bitter end, and when the grey dust cleared, He knelt alone against the blind God. X had watched him, through the panicked sight of others falling to his magics, of how he wore his body out for victory. With a new proclaimation, X challenged the panting mage to battle. And it was as expected, what little energy left barely laughable as the source of arcanery itself brushed off all the final attempts. A comparison of divine magic against a mortal mastery, was as comparison to a single grain of sand to a vast desert of it! Try and try again, X the patient scholar allowed him to rest, for days on did their battle wage, though for every attack He had the mage could not penetrate the defensive wards X had erected, and barely did his own protections last against the pressure of facing a god.

And still he preserved, until finally he stopped. Thinking no longer to outmatch the god, but to outwit him. Knowing somehow X was watching him through his own eyes. He closed his own eyes, seeing naught but darkness and X would surely see the same. A wise move perhaps? Could he beat a god? There as his sightless eyes groped about to find the place to strike, his enlightenment came. He had already proven his skill to be noticed. He had demonstrated his devotion to knowledge to do what others may have failed. What now was more that X demanded of him before he could claim the secrets of immortality? This was not a contest to defeat X, for what mortal could defeat a god? It was impossible for a mortal to match a god. No this was a matter of impressing him.

Opening his eyes once more, He felt the touch of X upon his head, a finger of god anointing his brow. There the transfusion began as He watched in awe. His name escaping the recesses of his mind and instilled with a new identity. The hand of X transferred into him, absorbed the divine essence, the spark which blinded his eyes with the highest power. X deemed him worthy to rise at last, his ability to learn the lesson to be instilled, the final test.

And when He opened his eyes anew to gaze upon the creator X, he was Atefir the Reborn one.

Zhystkrexas, The God of Hunger

Zhystkrexas, Lord of the Jaria

Zhystkrexas' Theme

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Titles

Various Other Titles

The Corruptor
He Who Hungers
Desert Demon of Desire
The Dark Dream of the Devouring King of Lost Paradise

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Descriptions

The Short and Long of the Devouring

Three-Word-Description
Insatiable Hunger Incarnate.

Long Description
What is it you desire most? Your deepest wishes, pulled from your wildest dream, harvested from your innermost secrets. The innocent fantasies you play with in the back of your mind, in the pit of your heart, the very nature of your soul. That which gnaws at you, your unsated want, a need restrained by reasoning, modesty, virtue. Like a caged beast, you drool hungrily at your temptations, but barely lick your lips when given but a taste of it when in a drought and famine. Now culminate all those years of unrequited starving. That is Zhystkrexas.

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Appearance

The Appearance of a Devil to Unsuspecting Mortals

He appears to those who are unaware of the true nature of the beast as a living idol. A perfect human being as they believe it, often seeing him as a man befitting the role of a chief of the desert tribes. The aspects they value most exemplified within him, a paragon of their own hopes and dreams to what they desire to be. For it is not his power to change himself, no rather it is his power to change how others see him. Dressed in finery of gold with a body of a worthy of worship, regally moving with the power and awe, the splendor of a true god-king to be envied and admired.

The Appearance of a Demon to Those Who Wish to See Beyond

But to those who wish to see him for what desire truly is, for those who desire truth, they shall see him for what he is. A smiling devil with twisting horns which flow like hair around him. Sharp teeth and fangs, a gaunt face like a skull and hollow eyes with which he eats your very being. Though dressed in his robes and finery, he is nothing more but a skeletal terror as his ribs are visible against his open robe. That is the true nature of desire. The insatiable hunger that consumes you, and though you may eat, there is nothing to show for it. Life becomes meaningless, and you are nothing more than a walking corpse: Empty.

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Personality

A Glimpse into the Mind of a Monster

Zhystkrexas, the corrupting influence of it all, that which dwells with the deepest reaches of the mind. Patient, devious, and cunning, an immortal who uses immortality best of all to sow the seeds of his grand design for the harvest. How many seasons shall he wait until his bounty becomes full and rich? But starve yourself completely waiting for the harvest to come? Why not feast on the spoils of another? Oh yes reap what is yours, but also devour the yields of others. let them savour their small victories, their piecemeal battles, let them dine upon their riches and let their praises be pleasing to their ears. Let all their plans align and designs unfold to their whim, but in the end it matters not. For when the crops are ready to be harvested, the locusts shall come to eat it all. And so this is why perhaps of all the evils in the world, Zhystkrexas is most despised, for he leeches off the work of others, and dares to manipulate even his peers as he would mortals.

Such is he who hungers. A façade of benevolence over a pit of pure malice, a voice so tempting, so pleasing to hear from a true cosmopolite, and yet beneath the veil a ravenous fiend. It is his hand that feeds, and also he that bites the hands that feed, and those that he fattens to feast upon. Nothing can sate him for he is hunger, and he shall lead you to consume yourself before he consumes you, both physically and spiritually as he devours your flesh and captures your soul. And once he has led you down the path, he shall take deepest pleasure in devouring your envious eyes, your lustful heart, your prideful tongue, your wrathful limbs, your greedy mind, your gluttonous gut, and your weary head.

And why does Zhystkrexas do this? For it is his nature. He hungers. He is hunger. Though his kingdom is plenty, he is the starving lord who eyes upon the kingdoms of others. In time, he shall consume them, and then when there is nothing left to be consumed, he shall be forced to consume himself.

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Powers and Possessions

The Powers of Desire

The Devouring King exemplifies not a strong physical force nor magical one amongst his peers, but do not mistake this for weakness for his powers lie elsewhere. While he is merely slightly stronger than the average paragon mortal, and commands arcana within reach of the most learned of mortal magi, His unique power lies in his ability to bring out the worse in things. His presence is toxic, changing the very essence of beings and non-beings. It is his hand which cultivates the seed of desire, the primal shard preexisting, tending it to become an overgrowth that bursts through the nature of a thing. His work is to accelerate the inner hunger, the rest comes naturally as torment ends with feeding and overfeeding. Yet satiation never happens, and so indulgence becomes wickedness, carnal desires feasting upon morality, and moral desires feasting upon carnal needs. No one is safe from his abilities, to woo and tease out the hopes and dreams of a person, then taint them into a twisted reality. Where the pleasure may never end, but all meaning to it is lost.

While it is with this psychic force that the Dark Dream eats away at the will. Appearing as he would to mortals in a form they find desirable by dulling their beliefs in anything but to conceal the truth of his horror. But this illusionary self-delusion is merely a front for the true abilities he possess in the form of his magical contracts that taint reality with unyielding fantasy. It is his contracts which create kings out of men who lust for power, and scholars out of men who long for knowledge. Those who crave wealth find their coffers filled by the connections the Corruptor creates, and those who seek the pleasures of flesh shall find it so. By the magic of his magical contracts innocently offered to drag them deeper into their obsession, the shrewd negotiator can make those fantasies come true at a price. Already they have had their freedoms taken from them by his invisible chains, to sign a pact with him was undeniable.

And with these contracts, he may tap into the power of those poor souls, sealed away in their personal heavens but bound to be squeezed and abused at his pleasure. They who are trapped in an endless dream, but tormented in the same nightmare, used to lull another unsuspecting victim. He may channel the powers to seemingly warp reality to his desires, but ever moreso to twist the wishes of others. Take for example a man who wishes to be a king, but to do so would need to raise an army to raise a coupe. An army would be offered, perhaps summoned by the magic-users eternally bound by his contract or even comprising of fallen warriors who have sealed their future in the past. And the price for a regicidal army would be the future king's own soul. A bargain that the wise would be so wary, but the cunning would attempt to outwit. Nevertheless, when under the influence of desire, both wisdom and cunning become a hubris. And by the Corrupter's whim and will, that was so easily gained becomes so easily lost. So a collection of lost souls the Desert Demon gains, each trapped in their own prisons of eternal paradise. Such is his title, for he rules his subjects within their own kingdoms.

The Possessions of Want

I'Zhystana, The City of Thousand and One Endless Pleasures

A legendary metropolis which sits brilliantly in the desert like a radiant gem to scatter the sunlight for miles. It is a city built by the Jaria Clan, a desert people who serve and view Zhystkrexas as their God-King. Zhystkrexas himself rarely manifests his presence in the public eye, and thus the city itself is ran by its elite citizens, governing itself with its false-utopia to mask the corruption which has taken the very city. Every sort of pleasure and vice can be found within the polished stone walls, but the city itself has loose regulations, and developed magical defenses which essentially maintain a semblance of order. The entire city is self-sustaining, and requires no outside support, yet invites visitors from afar to experience what it has to offer. Most travelers stay however and become permanent additions to the city. Either willingly or worse. I'Zhystana also holds two secrets: the two sources of Zhystkrexas' powers.

The Endless Sands of the Forgotten Desert

The Forgotten Desert was and forever will be a desert. It goes by many names, for it borders many nations like a dried patch of land, in Ancient Elven it is called Qualmanfauglir, in Dwarven Kurz-Gazan, Humans have called it more names throughout the ages than other races, but the common name is the Forgotten Desert. For as long as anyone could remember it was a forsaken place upon the world, a cursed boundary where the kingdoms of old would draw the borders of their nations. There was no value to claim the desert, for it was an inhospitable place, and nothing of value was ever found. Who would send legions to defend a sorry claim? Only a foolish ruler would gaze upon the tides of unforgiving sand and see any potential.

Only outcasts live there. Herding and scavenging on the picking the harsh climate offered. Though the sun shone brilliantly upon the sands, and the beautiful sunrises broke through the plateaus of stone, no plants grew and no life survived without water. And as the ancestors knew, the Forgotten Desert had no water to give. Rain never came upon the empty dunes, nor did waters ever rise from the sands, no river it had to claim and locked in by land from all sides. Only by living on the fringe did anyone survive, and yet to push on into the heart of the desert as a journey of discovery. For despite the warm days and cool nights, those who drive on, past the storming sands and chaffing winds, into the heart of this barren place, they may see the splendor that is I'zhystana.

Only the well prepared can venture forth in the great city, or anyone who wishes to make the journey by more practical means than traversing a great desert should consider chartering a passage either by magic or caravan into the city. There are even desert-ships which sail through sand like water, catching the winds upon their sails and rolling upon the dunes with their great wheels. But with its crown jewel of I'zhystana, and vessels which travel to and from it like this the Forgotten Desert is no longer quite Forgotten is it?

I'Zhystana: The Three Districts

I'Zhystana is built in a labyrinthine arrangement of walls circumscribed into walls with the Palace of the God-King in the middle beside the Oasis of Acrid. The sectors between the three walls serve as districts which tend to offer a particular set of indulgences that dominates the particular area of the metropolis. The Rim, the Rise, and the Royal Districts are named rather aptly for what they offer.

The Rim

The First district, The Rim, welcomes travelers into a taste of carnal delights. Things which can please the senses between brothels and bazaars, if it is to be touched and felt, it can be found in the Rim for the most basic needs of all. The various attractions which are highlights of this district afford the great wealth generated by the city.

I'Zhystana: The Infinite Markets

A series of bazaars which never seems to end, save for when it does at the edge of the second wall. Each tent and stall offers wares ranging from far-flung exotic goods imported from the reaches of the world to local artisanal crafts made by some of the best artificers in the world. And though many hotels and hostels, villas and inns are offered for rent, the marketplace never sleeps in I'Zhystana as coins always trade hands. Common currency is accepted here, however the God-King's benevolence allocates a portion of the city's tax money as a welcome package to new arrivals to encourage economic exchange, along with various other incentives for new merchants to set up shop...

I'Zhystana: The Everlasting Spirits

Those who which to taste the good life may dine at the various eateries which offer a selection of food and drink as complete as the wares sold in the markets. Exotic delights and compounds strange offered to sample and try, spirits flowing in chalices such that they may never be empty, and plates constantly replaced with more portions of food. It is said that one can tour the entire cuisine of the world in a single plate, or at least by merely walking from one diner into the next in a single city block, and even the dogs may eat as kings here.

I'Zhystana: The Eternal Pleasures

Ah the fragrant houses for the pleasure of flesh. What lusts can be slaked off here? Man, women, anything really. Whatever the traveler wishes to try and is willing to do. There are even some darker dens which lace their acts with magic to perform unnatural things. But one will find in a place like I'zhystana, there is no such thing as taboo. Such public knowledge of these intimate things are common in city that is said to be everyman's paradise.

The Rise

The second district, The Rise, caters towards those seeking self-improvement and things which cannot be held by mere arms of flesh. In the second district scholars find libraries to dwell in, warriors find arenas to test themselves, artists find gardens of meditation and inspiration. It serves to channel the productivity of the city, and thus the various attractions of this district afford the great people and status of the city.

I'Zhystana: The Boundless Emporiums

Libraries, polytechnics, and institutions of learning dot the sector. Museums and records for those who love the past, books and auditoriums for those who care for the present, and laboratories and guilds for those who look to the future. For those who seek knowledge and wisdom, a day is not enough to take in all the resources available and so many stay to rejoice in the halls as scholars of their own field to ever-increase the reputation of I'zhystana.

I'Zhystana: The Forever Gardens

Where once life did not grow, now it thrives in the city of the desert. Green and lush with beauty in nature, tended carefully by the unnatural hand to appear as natural as can be. It is a tamed beauty to look wild, a source of paradoxes and intrigue for philosophers and artists alike. For it is beauty captured and experienced, but far more beautiful than anything that could be captured. To walk in the growth and stroll lazily through the park, to sleep perchance to dream. The gardens offer tranquility and serenity, a place to lose oneself and to find yourself.

I'Zhystana: The Immortal Arenas

And for those who care not for understanding or peace, the arenas shall win their hearts. The blood and battle, the sweat and grime. All of it to entertain the masses of others who wish for sport. Races, fights, and displays of skill, every form of competition to claim victory in exists here. For fame to be renown and sung through the desert winds as the best in I'Zhystana. Who shall claim the title and honor? The Glory is yours to take, to take from the other man unworthy of your mercy. Win and you shall be the subject those painters shall paint and those students shall learn of!

The Royal

The Third and final district, the Royal district, serves as the residence of the God-King as well as the administrators of the city. It is also within this district that temples are made to the God-king, and of course is home to the sacred Oasis of Acrid and the Palace of the God-King. It is the very heart of the city, from which all forms of regulations and bureaucracy arise. Thus the seat of power of the Forgotten Desert.

The Grand Villas

The estates of the important citizens of I'Zhystana. Luxury beyond luxury, only those who are chosen by the God-king himself may live in the inner circle. Of course this position is a precarious place to be as others seek to acquire the very same post. Those who live in these villas are often duplicitous sociopaths who are both paranoid to lose their position, and seek to enjoy their elevate status in the public eye. Forming a court of backstabbing bourgeoisie and fiendish friends as part of the elite of I'zhystana.

The Grand Temple of the God-King

The holy of holies. The God-King's faithful come to worship and praise him throughout the lesser temples built in his glory, but it is the Grand Temple which the God-King himself is said to attend. Inside the sanctum the devout may genuflect and beech the statue of their God-king to fulfill their desires. And if the clergy allow it, hearing the whispers of their Lord, the faithful may ensign themselves and their wish upon a blank scroll that shall serve as a new contract.

The Grand Council Chambers

The main administrative building for the city of I'Zhystana. New laws are adopted, written, discussed made, regulations, policies, and more. The final process is democratic and each seated member may cast their votes to decide the fate of I'zhystana symbolized by dropping their council rings into the set of scales behind the three seats before them. Though often the Great Seat is empty for the God-King hardly appears to rule on such trivial manners, the Lesser Seats are for the Hands of the God-King who are those who have achieved the highest status of power beneath the God-king.

The Hands of the God-King

An interesting pair who keep the city within the God-king's grip. The seated man and the dancing woman depicted are The General and the High-Priestess respectively. Both of the Jaria Clan, the General heads the military enforcement and decrees of the God-King, while the High-Priestess tends to the spiritual adherence and teachings of the God-King. And both are just as twisted as their ruler, for the General seeks to take control of the city from beneath the God-King by careful undermining, and the Priestesss is solely devoted to the worship of the God-King as the greatest fanatic obsession she bears. As such They by in large tend to cancel each other out, with one being rooted in betrayal and the other in devotion. Something which the pleases the God-king as he sits upon his true solitary throne.

The Throne Room of the God-King

Here upon the Golden Throne the God-king Sits surrounded by a few guards and consorts as he dines upon his awaiting prey.

Secrets of I'Zhystana

The First Secret: The Oasis of Acrid

Named after an ancient Jaria Chief, this sacred water source created the entire city through its powers, and is guarded by the Jaria Clan as their protected wellspring. The Oasis of Desire is a product of Zhystkrexas' power, as a vast amount of the entity's essence was invested into the creation of the black pool. It is said those who wish to harm Zhystkrexas must first drain or corrupt the pool, a task impossible as the temptations of the waters seem to affected the mind of all those who seek to destroy it. For unless one only has a desire to destroy the Oasis itself and only that one singular desire in all the world, then it shall rise up once more to fulfill the desires of those who thought the sought to destroy it.

The Second Secret: The Vault of Kings

Deep Beneath his Grand Palace, Zhystkrexas hides his legendary collection of bits and baubles under the desert sands locked away behind an curious door. The Vault is warded against forms of magic and hardened against physical attempts to destroy it, as the only guaranteed way to enter is through the Smiling Door. Called so as it features an usual bust of Zhystkrexas' monstrous head which claims the contents of the vault as his possession. The jaws open ever so slightly as to admit a trembling hand to twist and pull the handle unlock the doorway. But beware, for just as the pool was guarded by one's desire, so too is the vault as the Smiling Door bites off any hand which fails to prove its worthiness to enter Zhystkrexas' true horde. And the smiling bust shall serve as a remind that only a Heart as twisted and wicked as Zhystkrexas may enter.

For within his well-guarded secret is the other source of his power: all his magical contracts. The only way to undo a deal and release the soul bound to it is to either negotiate with Zhystkrexas himself, or to steal the original document from his possession and then destroy the contract. The former is usually unwise, and the latter is generally impossible. Yet for the hundred upon thousands of souls empowering him, what would one soul be?

On the Jaria Clan

The blessed servitors of Zhystkrexas. They serve him out of birthright as his mortal agents. Some serve to protect their God-King or his assets, others serve to expand his influence as merchants or skilled mercenaries. Some are 'entrusted' with positions of false power, but turn paranoid and scheme to retain such a precarious position and to earn the pleasure of their Lord. They are decent fighters and craftsman, but most of all shrewd negotiators and bureaucrats. As such the Jaria are a part of the City and Zhystkrexas himself, they are his numerous armies, his devoted acolytes, his awaiting swarm.

Personal effects

Gregarial, The Scepter of Satiation

Once a magical vessel which served to bring forth prosperity to the land, the nature of Zhystkrexas' power has long since corrupted it into this form. Melted down into its formerly pure gold, and its four diamonds and single ruby jewels recut and refitted to resemble the teeth and eyes of the dragon-like head that tops his personal weapon. The monstrous motif-bears a partial resemblance to Zhystkrexas' true form, especially in that its hinged jaw can be snapped open or shut with a twist of the its head. It is the cane which he uses to support his position, not physically as he feigns physical weakness, but symbolically. For it is his antithesis in a way, such that any non-sentient object that should be placed into its small jaws shall be duplicated, and that duplication itself shall continue to replicate endlessly until the original object is no longer within the rod's jaws. It is the weapon only befitting of one who causes an equally endless hunger, and perhaps the only thing that can weaken his grip on his world, as such he keeps a tight grip upon it.

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The Myth

The Elder's Tale

I approached him upon his golden throne, and he was far more handsome than I had heard. I found my eyes fixating upon the seat of his throne, wondering what monster was beneath his attire. He sat so regally, a presence so commanding that I had no shame in kneeling before him. I took to one knee and bowed my head, catching a glimpse of his charming smile. There my mind could only imagine those lips of his moving to the sound of his alluring voice asking if I wanted him. Every word dripping out of his mouth like golden honey, drizzled upon his chest. yes, how my tongue quivered inside as it brushed against my teeth, how I wanted to lick that sweetness off his glorious body. I lusted for him, and oh my heart leapt for joy when he placed the collar around my neck with that glorious smile, and wrapped the chain around his hand. He had made me his consort, another to join his court, his entourage, his harem. Yes, I am your servant, your slave, your lover. I surrender myself to you, oh great lord of the Jaria!

I looked up at him from my lowly place, having begged him for a single coin. What did he see in me? A mere tramp with nothing, no home, no family, no money. How great was his wealth and generosity that he would invite me to share bread with him? As the guest of honor? But oh he raised me from the poor beggar I was and dressed me in finery, silken robes trimmed with silver and inlaid with gold. He bought me jewels and fitted them upon my wretched hands, and his servants washed by feet with fragrant oils. What luxury did he have? What wealth to be able to do so to a nobody like me? And then he asked me if I dreamt of riches, far more than I could carry with my arms. I told him yes, I dreamt of a sea of gold and silver, diamonds and rubies, emeralds and sapphires, all the treasures as far as the eye could see, and that all of it be mine. Then he showed me his vaults, which were all that I had imagined and more. For mountains of treasures like the grains of sand in the desert surrounded me as he smiled, throwing me forward into the vast piles of wealth with his hand and telling me to take all that I could carry. How my eyes widened in disbelief in awe as I praised him, oh great lord of the Jaria!

I serve him for he has granted me peace. He consoled me when I had lost her, with his gentle hand placed upon my head as I grieved into his shoulder. When I thought I was abandoned, he strengthened my resolve. He had given me the means to my vengeance. A spear which he offered before my feet. He asked if sought justice for her death, and gave me the means to do so. He smiled as I picked up the weapon, rising and steadying myself with the shaft as my mind dwelt upon the deaths of her killers. He applauded as I came back, drenched in blood with only my sweat to wash the stains away. Justice has been served, and for this I owe him my life. This blessed spear with which I had carried back the impaled trophies of my enemies heads, now will become his. I shall fight for him, I am his spear that shall pierce all those that would stand before him. May I die for your name, Oh great lord of the Jaria!

I was invited to his feast, a banquet thrown at one of his lavish parties. I thought I had tasted everything there was in life, but he proved me wrong. There was a smorgasbord of dishes upon his table, all smelling of exotically pleasing to the nose as I licked my lips in anticipation. The drinks he offered, the wines poured which filled the cups of all those gathered around him, and me sitting to his right as the dishes were being passed around. And as I ate my fill of rare delicacies from around the world, he smiled while asking if I had saved room for the main course. The main course? What was this to him then? Merely an appetizer? And what was it that he would bring to top off these scrumptious delights we had just experienced? Then there it was, a small boy dressed in a white tunic, perhaps a serving boy, approached us. My eyes could hardly believe the horrors which happened, but as the succulent smell wafted into my nose, I could not resist lifting my fork up to bring the tender flesh to my lips. I thank you for a most excellent dinner, oh great lord of the Jaria!

I sought to test his power, and to know his limits. There I wished to know more than anyone mortal had, I challenged him to tell me the secrets to immortality. For long did I spend hours over ancient text regarding his kin, and years I had devoted of my life to the study of the Children. I had studied sorceries beyond the scope of many men, and perfected my spellcraft to rival the lesser gods. Yet I was still mortal, as poweful as I was, death would end it all. So I had traveled to his kingdom to see if I could deceive him into telling me how to become a god. And so through my flattery, did he feign his impressions, praising my skills to entertain his court as he asked what I wished to be rewarded with. My request was what I had longed for, knowledge forbidden to a mortal man: transcendence. So he smiled, as he offered me a scroll. Now the torments never end as my flesh burns and bones melt, my mortality being purged by the eternal flames as my soul fuels your power. You have won, oh great lord of the Jaria!

I had trembled at his arrival, kneeling before me at my bedside. For three moons had I reigned over as chief. What have I done to displease him? Why so now was I stricken with this malady? This accursed illness which leaves me here too sick to enjoy the fruits of my conquests? Even now my own advisors and family plot against me and each other. To take up that which is rightfully mine. Why have you abandoned me? I asked him in disbelief, coughing blood and hacking phlegm. Did he not promise me the power to rule over them? But what cruel irony that it was that I should be confined to dying on this bed while another sits in my throne. Ignoring my questions, he rose to lift my head to meet his eyes. Then he smiled and asked me if I was ready. Please have mercy, oh great lord of the Jaria!

I scoffed at the depravity of his kingdom when he approached me. I had rebuked him for the vast hedonism that bleeds out from his den of sin. I being virtuous detested all that he offered me. I wanted nothing that he could ever bring. So I bade him to leave, and left his presence. I sought refuge in the wilderness, away from his corrupting shadow. There I suffered in the heat of the sun, the cold of the night, the hunger of an empty stomach and thirst of a parched throat. But he would never taint me, I would be pure, and untouched. I would become a paragon of resisting the corrupting demon, the vile one who seeks to twist us all. And foolishly I thought I had rid of his influence at last, but he waited. He was patient, as I squandered away my time, living in moderation, living simply on the verge of death for fear of his return. How I wasted it all away, in pursuit of my enlightenment, a chance at family and friends, a chance to pursue a hobby and skilled art, a chance at a full life to experience it all. By attempting to resist him, I had fallen to the desire to resist him. And so he came to me once more in my old age, though I could not see his smile, as he asked me once more if he could grant me anything I desired now. Grant me rest, oh great lord of the Jaria!

These are some of the tales you will hear from the other voices of I'zhystana, but I see you seek more than a short recollection. You want the truth, and I can offer you more insight into our Lord. All that this old storyteller asks in return is one favour for the knowledge offered in my story. Promise me this oh Hero, and I shall tell your tale with the rest of my old life so that they will know the truth of your victory Efendi. And of course, if it is not so much to ask, perhaps you can buy the rounds of drink to keep our lips moist as I speak and you listen hmm? Ah, our tale begins not in the distant past, but only a few miles in that direction from this humble watering hole for vagrant thieves, vagabonds and scoundrels, for it is there in that path lies the city of I'zhystana.

I'zhystana. Behold the jewel of the desert, the most splendorous city anywhere. While some say the City-State-Kingdom of Melaron is greater, let me assure you Efendi, once you have spent a single night in I'zhystana, no place in the world in this life shall be as glorious. For how can it be that for hundreds of miles of sand and more sand, that such a thriving metropolis can exist? The answer is quite simple Efendi, it is called I'zhystana for a reason.

For beyond her walls of endless pleasures beyond the imagination lies her secret. The bewildered travelers and visitors may find their hearts torn between the exotic brothels, the grand arenas, or indulgent spas. The sages can find refuge in their towering libraries and while the nobility chatter in their high-rising parlors. Vast world-class bazars for those hearts set on riches or dining upon the flavour of this world all in one night, lush gardens holding viewing galas for those who amuse themselves in the arts. Some may call it paradise, but for whose who consider it a den of debauchery should consider the great holy temples to their God-King. The worship of one being, the Lord of the Jaria.

It was he who gave life to this place, where once only sand and sun existed, now thrives life. For long ago, upon a blessed moon, did he come to them. They who had once which once roamed nomadically through the deserts, enduring the harsh lands to scavenge for their sustenance, as all who lived in the desert once did in the old days. Dozens of clans roamed the endless desert, pushed to survive this way as the other kingdoms encroached upon their lands more and more. And since no Kingdom lay claim to the barren desert, it was natural that it became a sanctum for those who had nothing left to lose but clung to the hope of life however meager. It was here in the land of nothing, in the hour of desperation, in the face of death, that the last chief of the Jaria clan signed his tribe into the service of a handsome stranger who appeared in his tent.

What happened that night no one truly knows, there are stories that claim the chief consummated the agreement, some who say that the chief was forced into signing, and other yet say there was no such stranger and the chief himself cried out to the desert for a miracle. Whatever happened that forgotten night, it was said that very morning the sunlight revealed the waters had sprung from beneath the sand. They say he was a divine being, heretics claim he was a demon that crawled out from the desert sands, but are they not one in the same? Others say he is no god, but merely a powerful sorcerer with a penchant for business, but I say who else can create all this from nothing but a god?

There was the gift provided, and now the Jaria clan alone may lay claim to abundance through their ancient dealings with their new Lord. In return for a single oasis, such that they may survive the desert, they had committed their entire surviving lineage to the God-King. Was it a fair trade? I would say any man who would help you cheat death itself was a man of great benevolence. He came to them with an offer of life, but they would in turn serve him. Brokers of his dealings, the middle man to spread his influence across the land, the example of what he could grant: a life of luxury in the barrens of the sunlit wasteland.

It is this life that some say is wrong, but to a people who lived on the edge and had nothing, was it so wrong Efendi? Hedonistic epicureans, the members of the infamous Jaria clan have an indescribable amount of wealth, knowledge and power throughout the lands. So much accumulated over the years by using their oasis as their capital asset, offering quenching water to the other wandering bedouins of the desert. A small price to pay for water was cheaper than blood. It was indeed a fine water supply, with cool, clean, and crisp water, waters which made everything seem better, food eaten with it was far more delicious. Sand became fertile to bear crops and crops water with it produced in overabundance. Wounds washed with it healed faster, skin more supple, and bodies more fragrant as libidos raised. It was indeed the miraculous water, the Oasis of Jaria. And yet they who drank it would find the same water no longer capable of sating their thirst. Food without it became bland, and all others became putrid without it, wounds festered and skin aged, clothing chaffed and crops died. They became locked in a dream, a dream which turned to a nightmare when the water ran dry.

So the addiction began, and they who partook in the Oasis became enslaved to it, enslaved to the deals of the Jaria who smiled as their wealth bounded upwards with every transaction. It was not merely water which their patron had given them, but far more, for from the desires of others they had their own filled. Power, fame, wealth, everything came in overabundance to the Jaria clan by the sacred oasis. The pool which to this day remains protected by the clan as they have built their empire around the holy waters. No longer have they need to use its miraculous abilities, but blessing of stranger is to be forever revered.

And there he sits upon his gold throne within his marble palace. Clad in gold rules the God-king Zhystkrexas. Praise be to you, oh Great Lord of the Jaria!

There, I have told you all that I know of our story Efendi, now I hope you will not have forgotten our agreement, there is a always a price in the city of I'zhystana, you must find a way to release me from my deal with my Lord...

---

A Story

The Elder's Reprise

Allow me to take a moment's rest in recounting my tale. Forgive this old storyteller's lips for being parched, but a brief respite to catch my wind and drink. Ah that reminds me of another tale of which I could tell regarding drinking, but that is not the story you asked for now is it? You travel to I'Zhystana seeking audience with my Lord? Who is this Kil-threx of whom you serve? Ah nevermind, perhaps you would have asked for another tale if you had the time. Now, where was I?

...And there Our warrior stood, bathed in the blood of the guards as he threw their lifeless bodies before the God-King's court. The crimson ebbs of battle mixed in with his panting breath and running sweat. The gallant Knight-Paladin had sought to slay the monster which had taken many of his order. Felling the eight Jaria guards within the throne room had taken a great deal of effort, let alone the dozens he had to vanquish to get this far. But it mattered, not for now the demon before him would die. It was over, he declared, through all this he, he was finally going to kill that thing that sat upon the golden throne. The moment he had been waiting for, to thrust his blade into the wretched heart of all sin and kill the beast at last.

But ah the God-King Zhystkrexas merely smiled, and beckoned the knight closer. And with the courage of a lionheart, the Knight charged his sword aimed at the Lord of the Jaria's chest. It was then that the good knight found his arm held, a force clutching at his wrist and a powerful hand gripping tight to prevent his blade from sinking into the boney flesh of the great beast. There in those precious moments he would wrestle for control over his own blade against the God-king, but found himself in a deadlock. And how he wanted to pierce its dark heart and more than anything at this moment, kill it.

But the God-King knew his desires, as it knows all desires and the evils which lay dormant in the hearts of men. So the Devouring One asked him the question, that if he would so easily trade his life away to kill it. And our knight in the heat of the battle of wills screamed yes as he felt the grip of the fiend loosen. Blade penetrated the God-king's chest and skewered its body to the very throne it had not arose from. Gazing at the lifeless body of the demon, our knight was victorious at last. Or was he?

For it was an hollow victory, just as he was a hollow man. His hand dropped his sword of its own vocation, moving to hold his face of its own accord. There in horror he realized what had happened, and his own hand betrayed him. A horrific scream and gruesome tearing, the terrified slayer began to rip off his own face. And there beneath his visage was seen... the Face of Zhystkrexas, Lord of the Jaria.

It is a tragic tale, but I have kept my promise to an old friend.
Many thanks to you for the drink Efendi.

🦄 Duplicity - D&D Style Fantasy Rp Adventure (Completed)

Thomas Richard Harrison

Location: The Tower, American 2nd Floor (British 1st floor)
Interacting With: Sana, Boar A

---

Our roles must be settled,
One must make the dinner,
Either ham or long pork.

Miraculously, it seemed Thomas's vision had returned, a brief moment of blackness, and yet now only dire tidings to behold. As if he was warded by the divines against these infernal hogs, the momentarily blinded sorcerer was spared a goring of his lifetime, and rather Sana took the brunt of the wild hog's attack. A quick check in the seconds his vision returned the darkness of his eyes clearing to reveal the charged boar strike Sana back. Not piercing her soft organs thankfully, but it sure looked like it hurt. After all this was a pretty good sized beast running at maybe 20-40 some odd miles per hour in a matter of seconds ought to be at least be close to 300 some newtons. Packing a pretty good wallop, although perhaps lessened by some excellent timing on Sana's part. Thomas would have been steamrolled over.

"You alright Sana? Get back! I'll try and fry this bristleback when you're outta range! About six feet should do it!" A preparation of coordinated attacks, it was a long shot, but if Sana could give the boy the distance and the timing was right, an opening could blast the boar in a spotlight, sizzling that bacon and more so, burning it again should that pig think about rushing recklessly into either of them (again, in the case of Sana). Pointing with an finger at the place above the boar as he himself took a few back-peddles back to avoid getting caught in his own spell. There wasn't much space left, but the door and the wall. But at least the wall would cover his ass. Metaphorically speaking, given his lack of pants currently.

[5e] Outrealms

Alexandra the Valkyrie

---

A hollow victory. For the the witch disappeared into the light. A light rather similar to the one that washed over mount and rider. More trickery? The trio emerged from the unicorn's blink mostly unscathed, though it appeared too late. The gnome was already knocked out, and the glory of snapping her spine and crushing her skull went to her defeaters. The demon-kin and the dwarf would have the honor of killing the witch. And yet that too vanished and slipped away. Cheated twice, now as Alex sighed and turned to face the Mer-kin warrior women who was a formidable ally and rival, words began to be uttered upon her lips as a congratulatory pat on the back. Until a strange sensation shocked her fingertips, the scales of a mer-kin were not so rough, but perhaps true the amazon's body was solid. The powerful muscles of her form unmoving, not tense with strength and but stiff like a frozen corpse laid across the battlefield for a few days. There eyes darted back to see Aryn stoned to death. Suspended in the enchantment, encased in the petrified prison, and then without much ceremony a light bathed the aquatic barbarian and all chances of their friendship disappeared with her. A solemn nod at the loss of a comrade. She had not given them a name to be remembered by, nor left a body to belovingly burn on the pyre. May they their souls meet again, "Until Valhalla beckons, Brave Warrior..."

But there was no time to mourn the loss of a powerful ally. They still had no idea of where they were or who summoned them all. And now they numbered two fewer, strangers in a strange place. These other three, who were they beyond fighters? Calming her zealous rage,
Alex relaxed the divine fervor in favour of seeking out the truth. Patting Adal's flank before leading him towards the group, her spear ready to defend them should they suddenly turn on the horse and rider. "She fought well, and deserves Valhalla. Let there be peace between us for I am no treacherous witch seeking to harm you. I am Alexandra, servant of Valhalla, and this is my shield-brother, Adalwin, we were defending our temple from an assault by a powerful demon until a light appeared. And here we are, if we do not return, I fear our temple will be no more. And I will have failed my duty to protect it..."

"If there is no quarrel amongst us, shall we travel together to seek answers to find a way back to our own homes?"

D&D 5e - Titan Hunters

Dinner was Served.

A grand hall from around the corner, once more under the gaze of the elvish lords of yore. For long was the planting of the library, and longer the harvesting, with baskets filled with information carried upon their necks. It was only it were so easy to digest the volumes piled atop Kethan's desk working at a leisurely pace. Such books were treasured things, and Lawrence did his best, but a sheet of paper was quickly filled with annotations regarding the condition of the Mavros' collection. Half the penned calligraphy was written as notes of the old cleric's findings, while the other half were recommendations on repairs to be made to some of the shabbier volumes. Folded pages, nibbled-corners, worn-down bindings, and faded ink & illustrations in dire need of retouching. Preen through his spectacles to see just beyond his nose for whatever scrap and tidbit of information could be gleaned as the wax wanes and hours pass without much realization. Lost in the sorted piles of books at his desk, several editions of compendiums of bestiaries and field reports on the Northern Mountains including a traveller's guide to Mavros & Vael Turog. And curious of all perhaps a colouring book belonging to Ada of which was reflected in Kethan's notes as Young Lady Mavros did not stay within the lines as she colored. NB color selection, use of warm tones for frost giants. But as the Duke invited them as gracious host to sup, Kethan's attention peered up from the latest cartography spread to accompany the Duke and Others to dine as proper guests.

There in the master's chambers, they gathered for the feast. There arranged before them, a feast for the hungry eyes, and meal for the weary soul. A hero's feast, with exotic dishes pulled from around the lands as fine and hearty for the well-traveled and well-cultured fellow. Froth and bubbles of Dwarven ale from the undermountains in pewter tankards touched by the very same artisans no doubt. Darkwood a basket of Elven lembas, the sylvan silver-leaves blossoming open to reveal the baked bread. Roast suckling pig charred whole on silver platter, adorned with skewers of beef and mutton doused liberally in spices. Golden quail sauted with a rainbow of vegetables served with a bath of veloute supreme. Strong farmer's goat cheese, pungently paired with the upliftingly mesmeric Gnomish goodberries. Lightly friend Lakefish filets battered with Halfing honey mead, and aromatic bowls of jasmine rice and boar-belly. Oh how many more courses of such extravagance was there as the company took their seats with the duke and dinner began rather silently as everyone took his or her share of the meal. Kethan himself only took a bowl of lentil soup, a simple dish commonly found but alas never quite as savored more at his advanced age. If a man was willing to trade all that he had and would have for a single bowl, who would dare insult lentil soup, sweetest of delicacies?

"Caelmarth. I see. Well done, Miss Lonett of Caernath. I Trust your instincts. I am not yet prepared to scry tonight, as the hour is late, and I'm afraid I don't have the stamina of my youth. However we do have that orb with Miss Ann'leah... Who appears to be my senior if I recall her jest..." Anything you like Miss, if you think me quite the young man, but dare I request you not call me late to dinner. The irony of the earlier line in response to the ancient elf's inquisition to Kethan's name. A bit of wit for wit returned in kind,
keeps the mind sharp and heart light, but quickly turned into a solemn regard as Kethan gave his name to the elf. "Sir Lakeltia, I believe you were assisting Miss Lonett of Caernath, did you by chance ask His Divine Justice of Caelmarth? If there is a circle there or within close travel, I can teleport us there with knowledge of the appropriate sigils. Else, I fear we may be required to take the long journey there."

A bit of a pause for an old man to sip his quaff of dwarven ale from his personal tankard, one carved with a rather stern face bearing a somewhat similar resemblance to the drinker. It was no time to be be caught drunk on their asses, as this very night there could very well be a dragon or army of giants at their front door. And all this feasting and eating in excess was a terrible binge to indulge the sensorium. A good night's rest would be a blessing for the old man, but vigilance was still needed, not as far as to purify all the food and drink suspecting Lord Mavros had tainted the meal, but enough to know that not all poisons were designed by nature to be foul.

"For those heading North, I caution both the cold, and the danger. I advise visiting the old city of Vael Turog. It is a bastion for travelers with many folk adapted to the cold. Pick up some warm clothes and supplies there, Prepare yourselves for coming to Winter. And more so, local knowledge, there are isolated reports of powerful giants in the far north mountains. I suspect these paragons of giantkin are ones capable of taming dragons. Given the amount of information on these giants..."

Kethan's silence said more than his words ever could. Looking at Lord Mavros brother, acknowledge the dangers his sister may face with a nod.

mechanics

Research Results with Advantage & Guidance:
15 on Giants & Northern Mountain Range
16 on Giants & Northern Mountain Range
15 on Giants & White Dragons
24 on Northern Mountain Range Geography

D&D 5e - High Seas and Tall Tales

Dire tidings. This would not end well. This glorified tentacular beast had lashed out on all sides, striking with dark tendrils not unlike Noriam's own shadow lash. The tickle of the necrotic embrace, washing over the fallen Aasimar like a familiar caress. The bittersweet pain of bloody binding, caught in a tug of war, the darkness entwined like the tethering chains which bound his tarnished light. His sword arm caught like by Promethean chains, struggling to free himself from the pull as burning eyes watched Koan's cyanosis turn into the frigid frost for frozen finery freely flowing flakes armed arctic armor anticipating adversarial attacks and amorous adventures? Snow maiden to a tzar. Her spells would blast them away from afar, and his blade would reap their pitiful lives. What a team they could make, if it were not for this accursed Kraken who may devour all of them yet. The even the raging merfolk seemed to be a little worse for wear, having taken the brunt of all the attacks thus far, 'Sauron' was unsure how much fight their guide had left in her should the monster keep squeezing her in a death choke, was it a strange envy perhaps?

Yet even in the darkness, there was light. For a shadow cannot exist in total darkness. Only in the light does it take form, embodying the innate darkness behind every light. As such it was his epithet, the shadow, for there is both darkness and light within the umbramancer. Jill's healing spell bathed them all in the blessed light, a gentle presence that felt so strange to one who reveled in pain. Yet it was not quite enough. Even Jill's belief in his inner light could not break the hold of darkness, if not even his celestial guide could pull him back, then how could her agent? Gritting his teeth by and by, still the dark one wrestled with the tendrils, caught and bound by the tethers to his tainted soul.

Not yet ready to embrace the light within. Still the other aasimar struggled alone. Devil and Angel upon his shoulders. And silenced still from the injuries to his silver tongue. Was it hopeless?

mechanics

Action: Acrobatics check to escape from grapple: 1d20+1=(4)+1=5, No use of Bardic Inspiration - Fail.