TEXT:  
  
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   Editorial 
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
    Page 3 
   
   The Hammer’s Stroke, Part III 
   
   
   
   
    Page 4 
   
   Laborers of Toril, Part I  
   
   
   
   
   
    Page 8 
   
   Untold Stories, collection III  
   
   
   
   
    Page 12 
   
   Earling’s Spray, Part I  
   
   
   
   
   
    Page 17 
   
   Mysteries of the Creator Races: The Batrachi 
   
   
    Page 22 
   
   Mercenary Companies of the Realms: Green Scales 
   
    Page 30 
   
   Journal of an Apprentice Scribe: Olostin’s Hold, Part I  
    Page 33 
   
   
   Credits 
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
    Page 37 
   
   
   
   
   
   
  Produced by 
   
  www.candlekeep.com 
  
   
   
   
   
  elcome to yet another volume of the Candlekeep Compendium. Being a 
  collection of the finest Realmslore selected from the shelves of Candlekeep 
  and from travels around Faerûn, and beyond. 
   
  Our scribes have been working continuously, burning the midnight oil, to b
  this collection of Realmslore to our fellow seekers of knowledge, here at Candlekeep. 
  ring 
   
  Our dwarven expert brings further insight into the way of life for the stout folk and this time 
  delves into the Thunder Blessing.   Taking a short break from our regular Folk of Faerûn 
  article, we present a variant on this theme, with the results of talks with the commonfolk of 
  Toril – the laborers,  without whom we would find life all the more difficult.  Of course, as 
  always, rumors and tales from around the Realms are presented herein, for ye would-be 
  adventurers. 
   
  A new column begins within this volume, detailing the ship, captain and crew of the Earling’s 
  Spray – a fine vessel traveling the Sword Coast.  Meluron Soondulyn presents his latest 
  journals regarding research into one of the lesser-known creator races: the Batrachi, and 
  our faithful scribe, Rikos Dughol, still traveling through Faerûn, visits Olostin’s Hold and 
  provides his latest report.  Mercenary companies are appearing more frequently throughout 
  the Realms, of late, and herein our latest report details the Green Scales. 
   
  Again, a splendid collection of Realmslore for which to feast thine eyes upon. I  hope ye 
  enjoy these latest installments from the halls of Candlekeep. 
   
   
  - Alaundo of Candlekeep 
   
   
   
   
   
  This volume is dedicated to Elaine Cunningham and Ed Greenwood – authors of “The City of 
  Splendors: A Waterdeep Novel”, for their kind acknowledgment of Candlekeep and for giving us 
  the most wonderful journey through this grand city of the Realms. 
   
   
  
   
   
   
  Part III 
  By Kevin Liss 
   
   
  or centuries, sages foretold 
  the decline and fall of the 
  dwarven kingdoms.   
   
  Time 
  passed, 
  and 
  the 
  greatest of the kingdoms did 
  indeed 
  fall. 
   
  Delzoun, 
  Ammarindar, Shanatar, and more recently, 
  Tethyamar: all succumbed to the ravages of 
  their enemies, and to time itself. 
   
  Kingdoms rise, and kingdoms fall. In the Year 
  of Thunder (1306 DR), dwarves gained a 
  boon to their population and their future. The 
  Thunder Blessing, also known as the Forge, 
  bestowed the Stout Folk with a restored 
  birthrate. Moradin's children received from 
  him renewed blood, and a fighting chance. All 
  of the dwarven sub-races, save for the gray 
  dwarves, were gifted with this blessing. They 
  now have the numbers to not only hold the 
  kingdoms they possess, but to also reclaim 
  those they lost. It is time for kingdoms to 
  rise again! 
   
  The Thunder Blessing has had a twofold 
  effect. First is the increase in the birthrate. 
  This increase, in some areas, has reached a 
  rate as high as half of that of some of the 
  more prolific human lands. And, as any dwarf 
  knows, humans breed almost as fast as orcs 
  and goblins in some places. Another effect of 
  the Blessing is the number of twins born to 
  dwarven parents. Normally, with an increase 
  in population, a few new sets of twins are 
  expected. The dwarves, however, perhaps 
  because of their legendary stubborness, were 
  blessed with an abundance of twins. Almost 
  twenty percent of the children born since the 
  Forge are twins. The thunder children, as 
  they are called, are quickly becoming the 
  leadership of the new generation of dwarves. 
   
  The Forge also created several new dilemmas 
  for the dwarven people, and some old 
  customs are now renewed. Before the Forge, 
  wizards among the Stout Folk were virtually 
  unheard of.  Now, with the dramatic increase 
  in population, many of the thunder children 
  are turning to wizardry as a profession and 
  way of life.  Overpopulation in smaller holds 
  also is fast becoming a problem.  This 
  dilemma is quickly being solved through 
  either 
  conquest, 
  or 
  reclamation 
  of 
  old 
  territories.  Citadel Felbarr is among the 
  latter, while Firehammer Hall is among the 
  former.  Halfbloods, legends hold, are the 
  union of a dwarf and either humans, gnomes, 
  elves, or halflings.  Halfbloods were common 
  in 
  former 
  days 
  when 
  dwarves 
  were 
  numerous, and are expected to be so again 
  as 
  the 
  sometimes 
  xenophobic 
  race 
  encounters old allies outside of their dwarven 
  holds.  Finally, the Dragonmoot is fast 
  becoming 
  a 
  ritual 
  of 
  passage 
  again, 
  especially after the unsure nature of the 
  beasts was revealed in recent events. 
   
   
   
  Thunder Twins as Leaders  
   
  Thunder twins are an enigma of dwarven 
  faith. The Dwarffather, Moradin, blessed the 
  Stout Folk with an increased birthrate, and 
  then doubled this blessing by giving many 
  families twins. Thunder twins can be fraternal 
  or identical, and either male or female. It is 
  not known how many of each gender have 
  been born since the Forge’s fires started 
  burning, yet it is thought that equal numbers 
  are born. 
   
   
   
  The connection that the twins of the Forge 
  share gives them an advantage when dealing 
  with others, either harshly or diplomatically.  
  This forges them into great leaders in the 
  making, since they can handle situations 
  both within dwarven society, and beyond, 
  into the realms of the other intelligent races.  
  Every set of twins shares this connection, 
  
   
  although some feel it closer than others.  
  Most dwarven societies expect thunder twins 
  to assume positions of leadership in the 
  future, and they are taking steps to help 
  them achieve this. 
    
  Each clan supports and participates in 
  educating the twins born into that clan.  
  Every faith within the dwarven pantheon 
  promotes the importance to the Folk of the 
  next generation, and especially that of the 
  twins.  Identical twins are practically revered 
  in some clans.  If and when one of the 
  siblings passes, the other is expected to 
  continue the work of the pair, allowing for a 
  swift and easy transition, especially in 
  leadership roles.  Because of this, identical 
  twins 
  are 
  sometimes 
  treated 
  as 
  one 
  individual for purposes of training and 
  education. Fraternal twins are able to live 
  separate lives, yet most see the advantage in 
  having someone so close to them constantly 
  near. The benefits of sharing so close a bond 
  is often ample reason for the twins to stay 
  close, both physically and emotionally. 
   
  The Year of Thunder began with the birth of 
  two sets of twins.  One set was born in 
  Underholme to a wealthy dwarven patriarch 
  and trade lord of the Belindorn clan.  The 
  twins, a boy and a girl, were educated to be 
  great priests, yet soon it was apparent that 
  they favored the arcane arts.  The twins, 
  Kieradyn and Runa, have opened a school of 
  magic in Underholme to teach other thunder 
  twins the mysteries of the Weave.  They 
  cater exclusively to gold dwarf twins, since 
  they see themselves, and other twins, as the 
  future of the dwarven people.  Some believe 
  that they are slowly recruiting a conclave of 
  wizards who will one day expand the power 
  base of the most powerful families of the 
  Great Rift.   
   
  The other twins, fraternal shield dwarf 
  brothers born to Clan Wyrmslayer in Citadel 
  Adbar, 
  are 
  staunch 
  fighters 
  and 
  pious 
  worshipers of Moradin.  Mith and Barr joined 
  the Hammers of Moradin, quickly becoming 
  Rorann’s right hands.  These two pairs of 
  twins are expected to lead the children of the 
  Thunder Blessing back into old holds and into 
  new glories in the next century. 
   
   
  Wizards in the New Generation 
   
  Arcane magic has long been the force which 
  has eluded dwarfs.  They have inherent 
  resistances to it, they shun it. Yet now, due 
  to the Forge, it is in their blood.  The Blessing 
  gives magic using dwarves an advantage 
  against the growing threat of the evil races 
  seeking to evict the Stout Folk from their 
  homes.  It will help them reclaim lost 
  treasures and holds, and it throws a few 
  surprises at any dragon wishing to conquer 
  the mines and tunnels which hold the wealth 
  of the dwarves. 
   
  Sorcerers are becoming more common, now 
  that there are wizards of power among the 
  Folk.  Still, wizards are more highly regarded, 
  since learning the craft takes dedication and 
  hard work, whereas gaining power through 
  chance takes luck, not skill. Also, with the 
  introduction 
  of 
  magic 
  into 
  their 
  veins, 
  dwarven bards appear as often as mundane 
  entertainers. 
   
  Dwarves prefer some schools of magic over 
  others.  Many take the specialist’s path, 
  however the majority study all schools, 
  especially those who wander the Realms 
  seeking adventure.  Specialists are usually 
  that, wizards fitting specific functions within 
  dwarven society.  Specialists, and the schools 
  they prefer, are: 
        
  Abjuration:  Many followers of the 
  Morndinsamman 
  study 
  in 
  the 
  abjuration schools. 
   
  Priests of Berronar Truesilver find 
  great value in the spells of protection 
  offered by      abjurers, as do those of 
  Dumathoin.  The spells of protection 
  offer 
  new 
  and 
  interesting      
  defensive strategies to the already 
  creatively deadly traps that dwarves 
  set in their      homes.  Because of the 
  nature of these spells, many female 
  dwarf wizards take up studying spells 
  of this school, and often multiclass as 
  priestesses of Berronar in some of the 
  smaller dwarven communities. 
   
   
   
  
   
  Conjuration:  Conjurers are most 
  common among the troops guarding 
  the 
  citadels 
  and 
  homes 
  of 
  the 
  dwarves.  While useful, wizards of this 
  school are not as common     as those 
  from others. 
   
  Divination:  The use of divination 
  spells tends to lie in the hands of the 
  clerics.  Some arcane diviners are 
  found in larger communities, serving 
  the leaders of all of the dwarven sub-
  races. 
   
  Enchantment: 
   
  Except 
  those 
  dwarves dealing with other races, 
  most dwarves shun     enchantments.  
  If it gives them an advantage at the 
  bargaining 
  table, 
  however,     
  enchanters 
  are 
  used, 
  especially 
  against unscrupulous competitors. 
   
  Evocation:  Battle-hardened dwarf 
  evokers are deadly foes.  Wizards 
  specializing in this school are common 
  enough now to cause many attackers 
  pause at the prospect of facing the 
  already deadly     formations of dwarf 
  warriors, for fear of battle-mages in 
  their midst. 
   
  Illusion:  Illusions are for gnomes, 
  and no respectable dwarf wants to be 
  caught casting illusory spells for fear 
  of being mistaken for one. Unless, of 
  course, it is in defense of their homes, 
  and it enhances the effects caused by 
  certain traps. 
   
  Necromancy:  While spells of this 
  school are not shunned as a whole, 
  the dark implications of this school are 
  enough for all but a few to steer clear 
  of it. 
   
  Transmutation:  Since most spells of 
  this school are for personal benefit, 
  adventurers are most common among 
  the dwarves to study in this school.  
  Shield dwarf transmuters are likelier 
  to be found than gold dwarf ones. 
   
  This list is not exclusive, and some of the 
  sub-races veer from their more numerous 
  cousins in which schools they are apt to take.  
  Arctic dwarf wizard specialists will not take, 
  for instance, abjuration or conjuration as a 
  specialization school as often as shield or 
  gold dwarves. 
   
  Also, wizards are finding their place both 
  within society, and within the pantheon of 
  dwarven gods.  The xothor of Dugmaren 
  Brightmantle are fast becoming popular 
  among the thunder children.  Many of the 
  young dwarves also become clerics of the 
  god of discovery, and also as wizards.   
   
  Loremasters, runecasters, and wizards all 
  pay homage to Dugmaren, whether they join 
  the ranks of his priests, or not.   
   
   
  Reclaiming their Heritage 
   
  One of the greatest advantages of the 
  increase in population among the Stout Folk 
  is that they now have the numbers to begin 
  reclaiming lost territory from the evil races 
  that pushed them from their homes in the 
  past centuries.  Citadel Felbarr is one of the 
  first, and certainly the most identifiable, of 
  these reclaimed realms.  Undoubtedly, plans 
  are being made to retake other areas now 
  lost to the dwarves, such as parts of 
  Shanatar, 
  Ammarindar, 
  and 
  even 
  Undermountain. 
   
  The new crusades of the Stout Folk usually 
  consist of the thunder children of a clan, 
  hold, or even territory joining a charismatic 
  descendant of a lost kingdom to reclaim, at 
  least initially, vital territory in the area to be 
  reclaimed.  They can outright assault the 
  squatters, as with the reclamation of Citadel 
  Felbarr, or they may whittle away at the lairs 
  and halls of the area until all enemies are 
  vanquished. 
   
  Smaller groups will often lay claim to newly 
  discovered territories by founding a small 
  town or hold near a mine.  Hundreds of small 
  communities are springing up around Faerûn 
  in this manner.  Some consist of a few clans 
  or families, numbering a few score, to larger 
  industries amounting to many clans and 
  hundreds, even thousands, of residents 
  within a year of their founding, such as 
  Mithral Hall.  Thunder children amount to a 
  large portion in either army, with Thunder 
  
   
  Twins usually holding leadership positions of 
  some manner, if not actually hosting the 
  crusade. 
   
   
   
  Halfbloods 
   
  In the past, halfbloods began to appear 
  among the children of Moradin.  They are the 
  product of dwarves and either humans, 
  gnomes, halflings, or elves.  It is not known 
  whether humanoids are capable of mating 
  with dwarves.  These halfbloods appear as 
  normal dwarves, but will normally be a head 
  taller than purebloods.  This union is almost 
  always mutual, so the halfbloods are treated 
  as any other dwarf rather than outcasts. 
   
  With the Forge reshaping dwarven society, it 
  is now suspected that halfbloods will become 
  more common, as they once were.  The holds 
  of the North, such as Sundabar, or even 
  Silverymoon, will likely see these unique 
  offspring frequently, now that the survival of 
  the race is less of an issue than it once was.  
  That, coupled with the acceptance of the 
  thunder children to new ideas, will be a 
  driving 
  factor 
  in 
  the 
  forging 
  of 
  new 
  relationships between dwarves and the other 
  civilized races. 
   
   
   
  The Dragonmoot 
   
   
  Dragons, powerful beings likened to the 
  elements, horde wealth better than the most 
  devout follower of Abbathor.  In the past, 
  young dwarves seeking to prove themselves 
  would band together in the tradition known 
  as the dragonmoot.  Since dragons are drawn 
  to areas dwarves inhabit, the resurgence of 
  this tradition was inevitable.  Recent events, 
  with the unexpected behaviors of dragons, 
  allowed many young dwarves from the 
  Thunder Blessing to find common cause and 
  root out dragons sharing the same territory 
  as them. Just as often, dwarven communities 
  expanding 
  into 
  new 
  areas 
  find 
  them 
  inhabited by the wyrms.  The dragonmoot 
  thus serves two important purposes.  First, it 
  allows the young dwarf warriors a chance to 
  prove their worth, and second, it clears the 
  way for expansion. 
   
  A dragonmoot usually consists of several 
  score of young dwarves intent on achieving 
  glory beyond their years, and skill.  Banded 
  together, even green fighters are able to 
  fight and slay young dragons.  While this is a 
  reckless endeavor, the members of these 
  moots 
  are 
  not 
  inured 
  to 
  the 
  deadly 
  consequences of it.  They will not seek out a 
  dragon of known power unless they are led 
  by a champion of repute, which then breaks 
  the reason for the moot.  Careful planning is 
  given to the event, so that all involved will 
  achieve a victory to increase their renown, 
  and not damage it.  Clerics, wizards, and 
  rogues are all found intermixed in these rites 
  for 
  support, 
  firepower, 
  and 
  scouting 
  purposes. 
   
  The Forge burns bright among the dwarven 
  communities of Faerûn. Young dwarf fighters, 
  clerics, wizards, and others seek to carve a 
  path of glory across, and below, the land. 
  Driven by the Blessing, and led by the 
  thunder twins, their purpose seems clear. 
  They 
  will 
  reconquer, 
  repopulate, 
  and 
  invigorate the Stout Folk to attain that for 
  which they fought so long to hold. The 
  Allfather is just beginning to forge his people 
  for the trials before them. Dwarves being 
  dwarves, they welcome it. 
   
   
   
  
   
   
   
   
  By Scott Kujawa 
   
    
  First Reader, here is the first scroll of the new project you have asked me to scribe for the records 
  of Candlekeep. 
   
  As you know, you requested that I stay on Toril ever since my return from Talona’s planar realm. 
  I agreed with you, since my body is still exhausted from fighting off all the poisons and diseases I 
  contracted on that plane, even though we believed I was protected. 
   
  Here are the first ten laborers that I’ve interviewed so far. Of course, some of this lore may not be 
  true.  Furthermore, I had to distill the details lest they fill a whole tome, and besides, some of the 
  information given to me was to be kept secret, and I gave my word, as a follower of the Binder. I 
  hope you enjoy the first ten laborers.  I’m tracking down other folk who are willing to let me 
  record what they do to make coin and survive. 
   
  Scribe Lythrina Surstyn of Candlekeep 
   
  * * * * 
   
  Dolath “Corpse Taker” Deindar (LN, Male 
  Human, Expert 1/Cleric 1, Jergal) 
   
  Jergal marked this young male human during 
  the Time of Troubles by changing his 
  appearance to better reflect his somber, 
  pensive nature. Dolath’s skin, hair, and eyes 
  are pure white, but he hides his features with 
  an unadorned grey robe and white gloves. A 
  skull on a tarnished silver chain hangs 
  around his neck, prominently displayed on 
  his chest at all times. He also carries a 
  desiccated human skull that has the openings 
  sealed. This macabre container holds a 
  mixture of ashes and powdered bones used 
  in one of his rituals. It is usually kept in a 
  nondescript black satchel slung around his 
  shoulders, along with his other religious and 
  professional equipment. 
   
  Shortly after the Time of Troubles ended, 
  Dolath was visited by a strange being that 
  said it came from a place called Sigil. The 
  stranger stayed for a day and waxed on 
  about a group called the Dustmen. After 
  listening for awhile, Dolath found he was 
  interested, and soon enough he decided he 
  wanted to be a member. The two visited that 
  strange city, where Dolath passed the tests 
  required to join the faction. Soon after, he 
  returned to Faerûn to live and spread the 
  faction’s philosophy to anyone willing to 
  listen.  The being that visited him was a 
  Devourer by the name of Krolar, who has 
  been acting as the Dustmen’s ambassador to 
  potential Prime Material inhabitants. 
   
  Dolath lives in a ramshackle home in the 
  poor part of the city, but he keeps the inside 
  of his one-story abode well-kept and clean. 
  To the right of his dwelling is the small 
  building that serves as his work area. It is 
  filled with herbs, oils, blends of spices, and 
  other materials used to bury the dead. 
  Dolath keeps additional funerary items in his 
  home. There he has utensils for removing 
  organs, and the back wall is lined with 
  containers for storing the organs. These can 
  also be used to store the ashes of those who 
  are cremated. 
   
  Some of the residents of Waterdeep, who 
  know Dolath, are a little afraid of him 
  because of the type of work he does. 
  However, he keeps to himself, except for the 
  few times that he’s had to fight off those that 
  have tried to harm him, his home, or his 
  small workshop. 
  
   
  Faurynn 
  and 
  Saerdrie 
  of 
  House 
  Starkeeper (Both are CG, Female Moon Elf, 
  Expert 6, Sehanine Moonbow, Selûne, and 
  Sahastra) 
   
  These two elves are twin sisters that live in 
  Silverymoon, near the Temple of Silver Stars. 
  Their home is a tower open to the sky, 
  allowing them to watch the stars, Selûne, 
  and the other celestial bodies. 
    
  Both have blue-black hair that falls to their 
  ankles, which they keep braided with ribbons 
  and light links of silver metal, to keep it out 
  of their faces. Both wear blue robes with 
  white trim, decorated with silver moons and 
  stars in dedication to Sehanine Moonbow and 
  Selûne. The twins also venerate a female 
  demipower called Syhastra by the elves. She 
  is part of the Faerûnian pantheon, known as 
  Sahastra among humans. Her holy symbol, a 
  swirling six-pointed star, is also stitched onto 
  the robes worn by the twins. 
   
  The sisters are used to being among the 
  nobles of Silverymoon and in the palace, due 
  to being called on by Alustriel, Taern 
  “Thunderspell” Hornblade, and others that 
  need the advice that comes from the stars 
  and celestial bodies. During one of these 
  visits, both of the twins fell for a male moon 
  elven bard named Kethrion. Kethrion can 
  usually be found singing news of the Gem of 
  the North, ballads, elven love songs, and 
  other tunes that make the females of the City 
  of Love swoon. For now, the twins have 
  agreed to share his affections when, and if, 
  they finally get him to notice them. 
   
  The sisters’ tower also contains many scrolls, 
  books, pieces of parchment, and other 
  written material on the stars, Realmspace, 
  the planets, and other features found in 
  Realmspace. Additionally, they have also 
  collected lore about Selûne, Selûne’s Tears, 
  and the other Prime Material Crystal Spheres. 
  There are stacks of books which they have  
  personally filled with figures and events they 
  have observed while looking upwards.  
   
  Faurynn and Saerdrie lost their parents in the 
  first attack on Evereska. Since then, the 
  twins have harbored a deep hatred towards 
  the phaerimm and the residents of the Shade 
  enclave. 
  (Author’s Note: Sahastra doesn’t exist in 
  lore, but the twins believe she does. I might 
  expand on this deity at a later date.) 
   
   
  Meeline and Jhalune (TN, Female Illuskan 
  Human, 
  Commoner 
  2, 
  Waukeen 
  and 
  Lathander) and (NE, Female Half-Moon Elf, 
  Commoner 1, Mask) 
   
  This mother and daughter pair rents a 
  building in Tantras, where they make and 
  dye clothing before selling it. They live in the 
  upper floor of the two-story structure, with 
  the bottom floor serving as their shop. The 
  front room is where they show-off their 
  wares.  
   
  Meeline is an aging human woman. Her short 
  blond hair is shot through with grey, and her 
  blue eyes are filled with sadness due to the 
  loss of her moon elven husband, killed by 
  bandits on his way to Raven’s Bluff to deliver 
  a batch of her goods. She wears a pair of 
  pants and shirt that she wove herself. 
   
  Jhalune is a half-moon elf. Her hair is pale, 
  like her father’s, though a shade or two 
  darker because of her mother’s blond hair. 
  Jhalune wears her hair longer, allowing it to 
  fall to just below her shoulders. She wears it 
  up in a tail when she’s working, however. Her 
  eyes are a darker blue than her mother’s, 
  and they are filled with amusement at the 
  actions of the races of Tantras. Like her 
  mother, she wears pants and shirts woven by 
  Meeline. However, her clothing is dyed in 
  darker shades than those her mother prefers. 
  She enjoys the company of sailors, thinking 
  their songs and tales are exotic. From them, 
  she has acquired several bawdy sea chanties 
  that she likes to sing as she works.  
   
  Her mother doesn’t know it, but Jhalune is 
  also a spy for a secret group that meets 
  around Tantras. They are working on forming 
  a thieves guild before gaining enough power 
  to take over the city. As far as Jhalune 
  knows, they call themselves the Shadow 
  Stalkers. When she has information for them, 
  she secretly delivers it to various places 
  around Tantras. Some of the places she 
  leaves information include: a fountain shaped 
  like a flying bird to the northeast, a statue of 
  a dryad in the southern part of the city, the 
  
   
  head of a broken gargoyle to the west, and in 
  the eastern part of the city, behind a loose 
  brick in the outer wall of a ruined building. 
   
   
  Taulas el Sharess (CN, Male Lightfoot 
  Halfling, Commoner 1, Sharess) 
   
  This halfling decided that the best way to not 
  become a slave in Calimshan was to become 
  a festhall worker in Calimport. Of course, it 
  helped that he has always enjoyed the 
  pleasures of flesh, drinks, and the like. The 
  draw he’d always felt towards the Dancing 
  Lady’s faith was further incentive. 
   
  From the moment he started working at the 
  Cracked Rooster Festhall, Taulas dressed in 
  bright oranges, reds, and yellows. He keeps 
  his hairy feet bare though, because, like 
  most halflings, he disdains footware. His 
  brown hair is curled at the ends, and perched 
  on his head is a big green floppy hat, with 
  one large blue feather sticking out of it. The 
  skin that he leaves bare is visibly brown and 
  shines from regular oil-washes. 
   
  Taulas has a room in the festhall that he uses 
  for entertaining paying customers. Inside this 
  luxuriously-appointed 
  chamber 
  he 
  keeps 
  perfumes, colognes, oils, and other liquids 
  that provide him with a variety of pleasing 
  fragrances. Sprawled out near the window is 
  a large striped orange feline, which Taulas 
  refers as “My Little Sharess.” He claims that 
  the cat is a messenger from Sharess, and 
  that it has powers that helps protect him. 
   
   
  Aryreen 
  (TN, 
  Female 
  Illuskan 
  Human, 
  Commoner 1) 
   
   
  Aryreen is a slave of Thay and currently 
  owned by Dmitra Flass, the tharchion of 
  Eltabbar. She serves as a maid in the 
  tharchion’s estate. This child is the offspring 
  of two other slaves, but she doesn’t know 
  who her parents are or if they still live. 
   
  She inherited her light red-blond hair from 
  her mother, but she has her father’s wide 
  brown eyes. Her skin, pale with small hints of 
  green-brown, combines the skintones of both 
  of her parents. Since she has been a slave all 
  of her short life, her hair reaches below her 
  shoulders. If she lives to adulthood, it will 
  probably reach to her ankles.  
   
  An elder female named Lilane watches over 
  Aryreen and takes care of her, as do the 
  handful of slaves that share quarters with 
  Aryreen. 
   
   
  Spirago 
  (CN, 
  Male 
  Maztican 
  Human, 
  Commoner 4, Maztica) and Virira (CN, 
  Female 
  Maztican 
  Human, 
  Plumaweaver, 
  Qotal) 
   
   
  Spirago and his consort, Virira, own land in 
  Maztica. He grows tobacco that is shipped to 
  Faerûn, and she weaves feathers into small 
  items that are also shipped across to that 
  distant continent. He is dark-skinned, with 
  dark hair and dark brown eyes. Virira shares 
  Spirago’s dark skin, hair, and eyes, but her 
  hair is longer, past her shoulders. Both of 
  them usually wear feather garments that are 
  woven by Virira. A round hut, with a few 
  other round huts adjoining, forms their 
  home. 
   
   
   
  Iyramil (CG, Male Wood Elf, Expert 2, the 
  Seldarine) 
   
  Iyramil lives on Evermeet, and his dream is 
  someday to be chosen as a moon horse rider. 
  For now, though, he is happy to be one of 
  the few elves that care for these rare 
  animals, found only on Evermeet. 
   
  His dark green-brown hair trails down his 
  shoulders to his back, and his bright green 
  eyes are filled with warmth towards these 
  horses. His white clothing, which shows off 
  his dark skin, is worn to honor to the 
  intelligent horses. 
   
  Iyramil still lives with his mother, Ajhiisel. His 
  father was killed in the recent drow invasion. 
  Their cottage, a two-story building formed of 
  living trees woven together by magic, is not 
  far from the meadows of the moon horses. 
   
  Iyramil also has an older sister, Sentyleth. A 
  priestess of Corellon, she is a century older 
  then her brother. Sentyleth is currently 
  somewhere on the mainland, but Iyramil and 
  Ajhiisel haven’t heard from her in tendays. 
  
   
  He is also smitten with another wood elf, 
  Frastyll. She knows that he has feelings for 
  her, but for now she is too dedicated to her 
  studies as a ranger. Plus, she figures they 
  have centuries left to live and that there is 
  plenty of time for a bond to grow between 
  them. 
   
   
  Tunstarr (LG, Male Shield Dwarf, Expert 1, 
  Moradin) 
   
  Tunstarr lives in Citadel Adbar. There he is a 
  weapon and armor smith, apprenticed to an 
  elder dwarf who calls himself Dunar. Tunstarr 
  dreams of someday reclaiming some of the 
  lost dwarven lands for his people, but for 
  now, he is content to be an apprentice smith. 
  He is one of the twins of the Thunder 
  Blessing, and his sister, Theryry, also resides 
  in the Citadel, but she has an even deeper 
  wanderlust than he does. This has caused her 
  to learn how to wield many weapons, and 
  she leaves the Citadel for days at a time, 
  exploring the north and meeting with the 
  other races. Recently, she has returned from 
  Silverymoon with tales of the many wars that 
  have plagued the Silver Marches. 
   
  Llethale (Female Gnome, Expert 3/Wizard 1, 
  Zann the Learned) 
   
  Llethale lives in Huzuz as a sage of medicine 
  and alchemy. She lives and works in a small 
  one-story shop. Books, scrolls, pages of loose 
  material, 
  and 
  other 
  written 
  works 
  are 
  crammed into every inch of the three rooms 
  that make up her home. 
   
  Her brown skin is wrinkled with age, but her 
  eyes are filled with deep thoughts. Her white 
  hair barely touches her shoulders. Llethale is 
  usually clad in a long robe; the hem reaches 
  the floor and constantly causes her to trip. 
  Decades of handling written items have left 
  permanent ink stains on all of her fingers. 
   
  Llethale’s male gnomish consort, Aldin, was 
  buried over a decade ago, leaving her 
  childless and alone. Her parents have also 
  passed on, but she sometimes meets with 
  Aldin’s gnomish mother to discuss her dead 
  consort. 
   
   
   
   
  
   
   
   
  Collection III 
  By Chris Jameson (Adventures I – VI)  
  & Scott Kujawa (Adventure VII - XII) 
   
  Being a collection of adventure hooks and starting tales for use in the Forgotten Realms 
   
  Adventure Hook I 
  Adventure Hook II 
   
   
  The PCs are in a good-sized community when 
  this hook happens. 
  This hook can take place in any moderately-
  sized to large community. 
   
   
  The residents of the city were surprised when 
  they awoke this morning. Plastered all over 
  the city are broadsheets bearing a cryptic 
  message: 
  The PCs are approached by the head of the 
  local watch, who has a strange series of 
  events to share. 
   
   
  Late last month, a horse approached three 
  watchmen, 
  and, 
  speaking 
  in 
  perfectly 
  understandable Common, reported that his 
  master 
  had 
  passed 
  out 
  while 
  working 
  outside, and needed help. The horse was 
  able to lead the watchmen to his master, 
  who recovered after drinking a healing 
  draught. The horse's master is a simple 
  farmer, and had no idea his horse could talk. 
  Three blades shall rise  
  when the eye in the crown goes dim. 
  The lost land will be found, 
  The pact of Erecyndlas shattered, 
  And the fallen queen shall walk the 
  path of fire once more. 
  The dark lady’s face reveals all. 
   
  Despite the fact that the broadsheet was in 
  many cases nailed to doors, no one saw or 
  heard anything unusual during the night. 
  Beyond the cryptic message, there are no 
  clues to be found on the broadsheets, either. 
   
  Several days later, a stray dog, also speaking 
  in perfectly understandable Common, told a 
  watchman he had witnessed a mugging. The 
  dog was able to give an accurate enough 
  description to lead to the arrest of the thief. 
   
  Within hours, most of the town's populace is 
  discussing the mysterious lines. Many feel it 
  is some sort of prophecy, while others feel 
  it's some sort of publicity stunt. Whichever it 
  is, it has people talking, as they try to puzzle 
  out the message's meaning. 
   
  Two weeks ago, a sparrow, also speaking in 
  Common, complained to a goodwife that her 
  cat was a nuisance to the local birds. The 
  goodwife, in turn, told the watch what had 
  happened. 
   
   
  It's up to the DM to decide what the message 
  really is, and what, if anything, it means. It 
  may take some clever hints or obscure bardic 
  lore to solve this one. 
  There are several other, similar instances. In 
  all cases, an animal that had never before 
  shown signs of intelligence is now obviously 
  more intelligent than any normal animal 
  would be. Obviously, someone or something 
  is awakening these animals. But who or what 
  is doing it, and why? 
   
   
   
   
   
  The PCs are asked to investigate this matter. 
  The 
  watch 
  can 
  provide 
  assistance; 
  a 
   
  
   
  watchman will be assigned to the PCs to aid 
  them (leading them to witnesses, etc). So 
  far, the watch has done its best to keep the 
  news of the animals quiet. They've taken into 
  custody 
  several 
  of 
  the 
  now-intelligent 
  creatures, and have asked witnesses to not 
  speak of their experiences. However, a few 
  rumors are starting to spread... 
   
   
  Adventure Hook III 
   
  The PCs are drinking in a tavern when a 
  brawl breaks out. One of the participants is a 
  charming young blade who is heir to a 
  prominent noble family. During the fight, 
  someone stabs and kills the young man. As 
  he collapses to the floor, a startling secret is 
  revealed: the young man was actually a 
  doppelganger in disguise! 
   
  Since the PCs were witnesses, the noble 
  family hires them to discreetly investigate. 
  The nobles want to know who tried to kill the 
  heir, what happened to the real heir (and 
  rescue him, if he's still alive or can be 
  raised), and how long the doppelganger had 
  been impersonating him. They would also like 
  to know, if possible, what the doppelganger 
  intended to do in its role as the heir, and 
  whether or not there are any other imposters 
  in prominent positions or within their family. 
   
   
  Adventure Hook IV 
   
  Tarson Daelgrym is a renowned bard. He 
  came to fame as the leader of the Merry 
  Blades, the Silvaeren group that unmasked 
  and slew a black dragon in Elversult. The 
  group also explored Myth Drannor, where 
  they 
  became 
  implacable 
  foes 
  of 
  the 
  Zhentarim. Tarson, though traveling alone 
  now, is known to continue this enmity. 
  Tarson recently converted to the worship of 
  Finder Wyvernspur, and has spoken openly of 
  his desire to found a temple to The Nameless 
  Bard. Though he has neither confirmed nor 
  denied it, saying only that he respects their 
  goals and finds them to be a worthy group, it 
  is widely rumored that Tarson is a Harper. 
   
  For the last three nights, Tarson has been 
  performing at <DM’s choice of taverns>. Last 
  night, after his performance, he departed for 
  his room at a nearby inn. Hours later, tavern-
  goers were surprised to find the bard lying 
  dead in an alley. As the watch tried to 
  shoulder 
  past 
  the 
  stunned 
  onlookers, 
  Tarson’s corpse scrambled to its feet and 
  disappeared into the night.  
   
  Who killed Tarson? How did his corpse leave 
  under its own power? And why did it leave? 
  Many people, possibly including the Harpers, 
  want the answers to these questions. 
   
   
  Adventure Hook V 
   
  The Dagger of Anar-Lod is an ancient and 
  undeniably evil weapon. No one alive knows 
  its true origins, though legends tie the 
  weapon to the fallen Lord of Murder, Bhaal. 
   
  According to one of the foremost legends, 
  Bhaal himself wielded the Dagger when he 
  was still but a mortal. After ascending to 
  godhood, he imbued the Dagger with a shard 
  of his own power and passed it to one of his 
  most loyal followers. Over the course of the 
  following years, it has been handed down 
  from one master assassin to another. 
   
  Another legend states that the Dagger was 
  created by one of Bhaal’s first worshippers. 
  Using powerful and unholy rites, a wizard-
  assassin stole the souls of his murdered 
  victims, and wove their energies into the vile 
  blade he had created. As with many of the 
  other legends, the Dagger was then passed 
  on from one master assassin to another. 
  Sometimes it was bequeathed at the peaceful 
  death 
  of 
  the 
  owner, 
  other 
  times 
  the 
  successor seized it from the master he’d just 
  slain. 
   
  It is said that during the Time of Troubles, 
  the Dagger was wielded by Sevis Nadell, a 
  widely-traveled assassin who was then in 
  Calimshan. Sevis, urged by the Dagger’s 
  sentience, traveled northward, carrying the 
  blade back to its divine master. But the blade 
  never reached the Lord of Murder. 
   
  Bane, needing additional strength to battle 
  Torm, turned to Myrkul for assistance. The 
  Lord of Death caused assassins all over the 
  Realms to instantly fall dead, using the souls 
  
   
  of Bhaal’s followers to aid Bane in his battle. 
  Sevis, still several days south of Baldur’s 
  Gate, was one of the many victims of this 
  ritual.  
   
  The Dagger was found by Tesko Chaunrel, a 
  wandering 
  mercenary. 
  Tesko, 
  a 
  brutish 
  warrior with orcish blood, wielded the Dagger 
  for several years. He never realized its 
  potential, knowing only that the ill-aspected 
  blade was magical in nature. 
   
  Three years ago, Tesko was slain by the half-
  elven assassin Yarek Milgreth, who realized 
  that the Dagger was more than just another 
  magical weapon. He studied the blade for 
  almost a year before he uncovered all of its 
  secrets. Since that time, his abilities as an 
  assassin have grown more formidable, and 
  he’s able to command high prices for his 
  services. 
   
  The blade of the Dagger is six inches long, 
  and an inch wide at the base. The last two 
  inches narrow to a needle-sharp point. The 
  blade itself appears to be ordinary steel, but 
  is tinted a reddish-black.  
   
  The hilt is wrapped in alternating bands of 
  violet and black leather. The leather is worn 
  and faded, but still supple, and feels 
  strangely warm to the touch. The dagger’s 
  crosspiece resembles finger bones, one on 
  each side of the blade. The pommel appears 
  to be a miniature human skull, with blood-
  red rubies set in the eye sockets. 
   
  When the Dagger is used to kill a victim, if 
  left in the body for an entire turn, it 
  consumes the victim's soul, leaving them 
  unable 
  to 
  be 
  raised, 
  resurrected, 
  or 
  contacted via speak with dead. For one day 
  per level of the victim, the dagger does an 
  additional 1d3 points of damage. 
   
  A side-effect of this feeding is that the body 
  is drained of all blood. The Dagger’s current 
  wielder, Yarek Milgreth, has discovered this 
  effect, and thought of a way to capitalize on 
  it. When slaying a victim, Yarek’s preferred 
  method is to enter their bedchamber. Yarek 
  casts hold person on his sleeping victim, and 
  then stabs them twice in the side of the neck. 
  He is careful to keep the two wounds shallow 
  and close together, letting the Dagger’s 
  feeding kill the victim.  
   
  Yarek’s victims, when found, are inevitably 
  thought to have fallen prey to a vampire. The 
  victims are usually cremated as quickly as 
  possible, to prevent them from rising as 
  vampires. Thus, Yarek’s crimes are concealed 
  without proper investigation. 
   
  A prominent NPC has just fallen to the 
  Dagger of Anar-Lod and its wielder. The PCs 
  are hired to hunt down and find the vampire 
  that slew the NPC. Alternatively, someone 
  close to the NPC has reason to doubt that the 
  death was the work of a vampire, and wants 
  the PCs to find the real culprit. 
   
  An even more interesting twist would be if a 
  vampire, 
  knowing 
  the 
  murder 
  wasn’t 
  committed by one of his kind, hires the PCs 
  (through intermediaries, of course) to find 
  the real culprit. 
   
   
  Adventure Hook VI 
   
  This hook can be used just about anywhere, 
  though it would seem a bit more plausible to 
  have the PCs encounter Halyn while in a city 
  or town, as opposed to the wilderness. 
   
  Halyn Aleanoth needs help. Halyn Aleanoth is 
  a famed moon elf fighter-sorcerer. He first 
  came to fame in Waterdeep, as the sole 
  survivor of The Company of the Silver 
  Griffon’s ill-fated foray into Undermountain. 
  One midmorning in early Tarsakh, Halyn and 
  his five companions entered the well in The 
  Yawning Portal, embarking on the same 
  journey countless other adventurers have 
  made. 
   
  In late Kythorn, Halyn resurfaced. He burst 
  out of a sewer grating near the High Road, 
  engaged in a running battle with a marilith. 
  Fighting at his side was a slender longsword, 
  obviously magically animated, for it battled 
  the marilith without a wielder. The battle 
  lasted for several minutes and covered the 
  space of two city blocks; Halyn and the 
  animated sword finally managed to slay the 
  demon just as a frantically-summoned Watch 
  patrol arrived. 
  
   
  An enterprising merchant, Tanden Erelson, 
  chose to capitalize on Halyn’s dramatic 
  entrance. 
  Tanden, 
  a 
  garrulous 
  and 
  enthusiastic man, was trying to break into 
  Waterdeep’s emerging market for chapbooks. 
  Within a week, the first volume of Moon and 
  Steel: 
  The 
  Adventures 
  of 
  an 
  Elf 
  was 
  available. The chapbook related Halyn’s 
  experiences in the Underhalls, the deaths of 
  his companions, his finding of the intelligent 
  animated sword Keilevaryn, and the battle 
  with the marilith, which began on Level One 
  of Undermountain, before moving to the 
  sewers and then to the street above. 
   
  Six additional volumes have covered Halyn’s 
  subsequent 
  adventures. 
  All 
  have 
  been 
  popular, and there is talk of compiling them 
  into a book. The chapbooks have also 
  maintained Halyn’s high popularity; because 
  of them, he has become a minor celebrity in 
  Waterdeep. When in the City of Splendors, 
  Halyn never lacks for companionship or 
  invitations to parties, feasts, and revels. 
   
  But now, none of that matters to Halyn. 
  While exploring a nameless ruin several 
  months ago, he encountered a beautiful sun 
  elf, magically entrapped in a giant emerald. 
  After he freed her, the elf, a mage named 
  Celaessa Leiunara, chose to travel with him. 
  Soon after, the two fell in love. 
   
  About a month ago, the two were exploring a 
  ruin in the Silver Marches. They were sitting 
  quietly by a campfire when Celaessa’s head 
  snapped up. “Jannus Delevaun has returned,” 
  she murmured in a barely audible voice. She 
  then quickly incanted a spell, teleporting 
  away 
  and 
  leaving 
  Halyn 
  alone 
  and 
  wondering. 
   
  Halyn has no idea who or what Jannus 
  Delevaun is. He likewise doesn’t know 
  Celaessa’s connection to this person, or why 
  his return caused her to depart so suddenly. 
  Halyn is searching for anyone who has 
  information about the mysterious person, or 
  who knows where Celaessa is.  
   
   
   
   
   
  Adventure Hook VII 
   
  A winged creature, seemingly made of stone, 
  has been seen in Baldur’s Gate for the past 
  several days. Each night it swoops down from 
  the sky and grabs a female human in its 
  talons. It flies over the city before heading 
  west and over the water. Divinations haven’t 
  been able to track its movements. The 
  Flaming Fist is offering a reward if someone 
  can prove that it has been killed, if they have 
  any information on where the creature lairs, 
  or where it takes its victims. 
   
   
  Adventure Hook VIII 
   
  A hunter is seeking adventurers to protect 
  him as he tracks and finds a creature he calls 
  the “Ground Digger”. No one has ever heard 
  of the beast, which the hunter describes as 
  having webbed feet, feathered wings, a scaly 
  body, and a square head. Nonetheless, the 
  hunter keeps talking about it and insists that 
  it can be found in the Trollmoors. He is 
  willing to pay either a minor magic item or 
  some gems or coins to adventurers if they 
  agree to protect him as he hunts for this 
  beast in that troll-infested part of Faerûn. 
   
   
  Adventure Hook IX 
   
  Silverymoon has been overrun by pixies and 
  other small flying fey. The city can’t seem to 
  rid itself of its mischievous invaders, who are 
  using their magic to play pranks on everyone 
  in the city. Silvaeren officials are asking for 
  help on finding where the fey are coming 
  from, 
  and 
  why 
  they 
  are 
  staying 
  in 
  Silverymoon. When asked, the fey fearfully 
  whisper about someone or something called 
  the Eater, and then disappear. What or who 
  this creature or being is, the sages of the city 
  are at a loss to explain. 
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
  
   
  Adventure Hook X 
   
  An uncharted isle has risen out of the water 
  about four days north of the northern 
  Moonshae 
  Isle. 
  So 
  far 
  it 
  is 
  mostly 
  unexplored; sages and others are interested 
  in learning anything about it. The few sailors 
  and adventurers that have landed on the isle 
  have since disappeared, which worries Queen 
  Alicia and King Keane. Another curious fact 
  about the isle is that the sea elves have 
  attacked ships trying to land there, making it 
  appear that they are guarding something or 
  know more about the isle then they are 
  willing to say. 
   
   
  Adventure Hook XI 
   
  Emerna, a female human adventuring wizard, 
  has been seen in the taverns of the 
  hamlet/town/city, telling a tale about a ruin 
  that she and her adventuring companions, 
  The Night Stalkers, found. Inside the ruin, 
  they discovered several coffins and many 
  bone-filled niches. The group came under 
  attack from spirits that oozed out of the 
  earthen walls, draining the life from their 
  living 
  bodies. 
  Emerna 
  was 
  ignored 
  by 
  apparently female spirits, but her friends 
  were reduced to dried husks. Though there 
  were riches, wealth, coins, and other items 
  scattered through the three rooms that they 
  explored, Emerna fled, empty-handed.  
       
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
  Adventure Hook XII 
   
  A plague has started to spread though a 
  hamlet/town/city. The plague first causes the 
  humans that are infected by it to become 
  lethargic and dazed. At the onset of the 
  second stage, they start to morph and 
  change. Their hair falls out, and sores and 
  lesions grow on their flesh. When these form, 
  the victims are usually too far gone to be 
  healed with herbs, or even with divine aid. A 
  few hours after the appearance of the sores 
  and lesions, the infected unfortunates swell 
  and burst. Any nearby people who are hit by 
  the infected flesh are themselves infected by 
  the plague.   
   
  Strangely, this plague isn’t affecting the 
  elven, dwarven, halfling, and gnomish races. 
  Half-elves and half-orcs are affected, though. 
  The sages believe it is because of their 
  human 
  blood. 
  The 
  humans 
  that 
  have 
  contracted this plague believe that Talona’s 
  faithful are to blame; a few days ago, a 
  group of Talontar was chased out of town. It 
  is thought that this is their revenge. 
  
   
   
   
   
  By Tyson Howard 
   
  "So ye be lookin' fer a ship that be makin' fer Chult from 'ere unda two weeks?  
  Aye, ye best be talkin' to the cap'n of Earling’s Spray! What? How ye be findin' 'im? Find yeself 
  looking for a ship with three masts, square sails, and a broadside that be made of the darkest 
  wood ye've evah saw. That'd be Earling's Spray, and ye've found yeself the waverunna ye be 
  seekin'."  
   
  - Conversation overheard between an old sea captain and adventurers at the docks of Baldur's 
  Gate, 15 Uktar, 1373 DR. 
   
  * * * * 
   
  The Ship 
   
  aves slowly lap at the black 
  hull of a massive, three-
  masted ship sitting at the 
  quay. The ship stretches far 
  beyond the length of the 
  pier, measuring almost two 
  hundred 
  feet 
  long. 
  The 
  nearly seamless black zalantar planks of the 
  hull curve upward from the water, meeting 
  white oak railings that run the length of the 
  main deck. Rigging and furled sales stretch 
  like a spider's web between the three masts. 
  Burnished gold lettering, written in a flowing 
  script at the bow of the ship, proclaims with 
  understated elegance that this monstrous 
  craft is the "Earling's Spray." Even while 
  moored, the ship appears as though it were 
  cutting through the water. Its elegant form 
  seems strangely out of place amongst the 
  ungainly cogs, hulks, and carracks tied to the 
  surrounding piers.  
   
  The "’Spray", as it is often referred to, is a 
  unique ship, designed and built by Harlequin 
  Earling in 1350 DR. The Earling's Spray is his 
  lifelong 
  work, 
  and 
  also 
  his 
  greatest 
  accomplishment 
  in 
  ship 
  design 
  and 
  construction. The graceful ship is constructed 
  of dark zalantar wood, grown deep in the 
  jungles of Chult and the Shaar. Unlike typical 
  ships constructed in the Realms, the ‘Spray 
  utilizes a number of construction techniques, 
  materials, and insights of its shipwright that 
  make it stand out in comparison to the cogs, 
  hulks, carracks, and galleys seen throughout 
  the seas of Faerûn. 
   
  The hull of the ship is constructed of planks 
  of zalantar wood. Instead of the standard 
  'clinker' style, where planks overlap each 
  other, the ‘Spray is constructed so that the 
  edge of each plank meets the edge of the 
  next plank. Additionally, the ‘Spray utilizes 
  oversized braces and keel stock, providing 
  sturdy support for the massive ship. Copper 
  plating and joints further reinforce the ship’s 
  wooden 
  structure. 
  The 
  ‘Spray’s 
  bow 
  gracefully curves upward from the keel, while 
  the hull forms a slight U-shape.  
   
  The bowsprit extends nearly thirty feet from 
  the bow of the ship. Set beneath the long 
  spar is a large figurehead of a beautiful 
  mermaid with unruly hair, arms spread 
  forward as if in support of the bowsprit above 
  her.  Clenched firmly in the left hand of the 
  figure is a small, gilt holy symbol to Valkur. 
   
  The forecastle rises ten feet above the main 
  deck. It can be reached by two steep ladders 
  set into the structure on either side of the 
  forward mast. Inside the forecastle is a 
  storage room dedicated to spare rigging, 
  sails, and other assorted items needed 
  aboard the ship.  These items are neatly 
  stowed in crates, shelves, or on racks against 
  the walls, keeping the center of the room 
  clear for easy access to the materials by the 
  crew.  Another small room on the starboard 
  side of the forecastle holds the hammocks 
  
   
  and sleeping quarters for the four crewmen 
  who typically are responsible for managing 
  the various aspects of the bow quarter of the 
  ship.     
   
  Between the forecastle and the quarterdeck, 
  the main deck stretches for nearly one 
  hundred and twenty feet. The deck is filled 
  with hatches for cargo, with two stairwells at 
  each end of the deck leading down into the 
  depths 
  of 
  the 
  ship. 
  These 
  narrow 
  passageways are blocked by thick doors, 
  keeping rough seas from reaching below 
  deck.  
   
  The quarterdeck rises eight feet from the 
  main deck, and is also reached by two steep 
  ladders, set into the structure on either side 
  of the rear mast. It is here that the helm is 
  located. This carved teakwood wheel is 
  nearly five feet across. It is connected to the 
  ship's rudder by a series of steel workings, 
  ensuring that the ship can to be steered in 
  the heaviest of weather. 
   
  Inside the quarterdeck lie several small 
  rooms. The entire expanse of the rear of the 
  quarterdeck is occupied by the captain’s 
  suite. The entrance to these rooms is through 
  a low-hung door leading to a small anteroom 
  that functions as a meeting place for the 
  officers of the 'Spray and as the captain’s 
  formal 
  parlor. 
  Overstuffed 
  couches 
  are 
  secured around the outer edges of the room, 
  while a large, solid oak table is attached 
  firmly to the floor. Various locked cabinets 
  and lockers line the walls of the room 
  containing a sundry of items ranging from 
  expensive wines to navigational instruments. 
  Off the starboard side of the room lays a 
  chart room while to the port, through a finely 
  crafted door lies the captain’s personal 
  chamber. The chart room is filled with 
  diamond shaped racks that are stuffed with 
  maps, 
  annotated 
  charts, 
  and 
  other 
  paraphernalia associated with the navigation 
  of the ship. The captain’s personal quarters 
  are spartan, but the furnishings include an 
  elegant bed and plush Dambrathan carpet 
  affixed to the floor. A small bookshelf on the 
  forward bulkhead of the room contains a 
  number of texts and treatises on subjects 
  ranging from accounts of adventurers, to 
  lurid chapbooks from Waterdeep, to various 
  historical volumes penned by obscure sages 
  from Candlekeep. 
   
  The area below decks consists primarily of 
  two levels of holds, a galley, storage rooms, 
  and crew quarters. The primary hold for the 
  ship consists of two lengthy chambers 
  spanning the width of the ship. Each of these 
  holds is used for the transport of larger, 
  bulkier cargo that is light in weight. Running 
  along the ceiling of each hold are a series of 
  ropes and pulleys allowing for the quick 
  transport of heavier items through covered 
  hatches into the lower bowels of the 'Spray . 
  A thick door separates the two 'bulk' holds, 
  as the crew refers to this level, from the crew 
  quarters and galley. Two sparsely furnished 
  crew quarters are located along the starboard 
  side hull. Running the length of the port side 
  hull on the aft, separated from the crew 
  quarters by a narrow passageway, is the 
  galley, a large pantry, and two small storage 
  rooms. In one of the storage rooms is a small 
  steel locker, cleverly concealed beneath a 
  water barrel. This locker is used for small, 
  valuable items. Forward of the holds, near 
  the anchoring point of the bowsprit, is 
  another chamber reserved for off-duty crew 
  members to rest and relax in hammocks 
  strung amongst the mighty timbers that form 
  the frame of the vessel. This room also 
  functions as a spare storage room, in the 
  event that the 'Spray is required to carry 
  more cargo than may otherwise fit within the 
  holds of the ship. 
   
  Directly beneath the ‘bulk’ holds are a series 
  of smaller, divided chambers that rest just 
  above the ship's bilge. A stout wall divides 
  these holds lengthwise down the center of 
  the ship. Each of these holds is roughly thirty 
  feet in length, and is accessed from the ‘bulk’ 
  holds by wide hatches cut through the 
  decking above. Ladder-stairs provide quick 
  access to these rooms during periods of 
  loading and unloading of cargo. 
   
  The ‘Spray was built to quickly transport 
  small yet valuable cargoes from the northern 
  reaches of the Sword Coast to the jungles of 
  Chult, and all points between. The ship 
  measures 235 feet from the bowsprit to the 
  stern, and has a narrow beam of only 40 
  feet. When fully laden with almost 400 tons 
  of cargo, the ship's draft is only 23 feet, with 
  
   
  nearly 18 feet to spare to the gunwales. 
  Although its massive weight of 870 tons 
  makes it one of the largest mercantile ships 
  plying the Sea of Swords and the Shining 
  Sea, it can average eight knots an hour. At 
  full sail and with favorable winds, it has been 
  recorded making almost twelve knots. Even 
  at average speed, the Earling’s Spray can 
  make the run from the city of Waterdeep to 
  Calimshan in half the time a standard carrack 
  could.  
   
  The crew of 32 men and women is small but 
  well-trained by the ‘Spray’s owner and 
  captain, 
  Harlequin 
  Earling. 
  Occasionally, 
  when pirate attacks from Luskan or the 
  Nelanther 
  Isles 
  are 
  particularly 
  harsh, 
  Captain Earling has been known to hire on 
  adventurers, mercenaries, and spellslingers, 
  as an added defense for the ship. Most times, 
  however, the ‘Spray merely outruns any 
  challengers that see it as a prize worth 
  attempting to capture. 
   
   
  The Captain 
   
  The short, wiry Captain scratched his well-
  trimmed Van Dyke beard as he stared hard 
  at the stein of mead sitting before him. On 
  the other side of the booth sat a slightly 
  overweight, balding “tea merchant” named 
  Barrabas. The portly man absently twirled 
  the ends of his magnificent mustache as he 
  awaited the captain’s decision. Around them 
  floated a din and noise of voices and sounds; 
  this booth wasn’t the only one where hard 
  business was being negotiated. 
   
  For several moments, the red-haired captain 
  sat silently, continuing to scratch his beard 
  as he pondered. Finally, the Captain grinned, 
  revealing a wide smile of pure white teeth. 
  He casually reached into the breast pocket of 
  his immaculate blue overcoat. Pulling a large, 
  rolled tobacco leaf from the pocket’s deep 
  confines, 
  the 
  half-elven 
  Captain 
  leaned 
  towards the small oil lamp, puffing many 
  times as he chomped down on the slowly 
  smoldering Tashalan cigar. 
   
  “My dear Barrabas, what you ask me to carry 
  could put the lives of my crew and my ship in 
  great peril from certain persons in the know. 
  Such a venture surely will cost more than the 
  usual.” 
   
  He let his words linger. Tilting his head back, 
  he softly blew a smoky gray haze into the air, 
  then gazed down his small, pointed nose 
  towards the stout merchant sitting across 
  from him. Sweat glistened on the merchant’s 
  face, though the Captain wasn’t sure if it was 
  merely the heat of too many bodies in the 
  tavern, too much fire in the hearth a mere 
  two yards away, or something altogether 
  more sinister. 
   
  With a low grunt, almost a growl, Barrabas 
  slowly nodded his head and replied in a low 
  voice, “Yes, Captain Earling, I realize this. 
  What say you to a sum five times greater 
  than our standard rate, should my associates 
  in Calimshan receive the package by tenday’s 
  end?” 
   
  The Captain stopped chewing the cigar, 
  letting it dangle from its perch between his 
  front teeth, and stared hard at the merchant. 
   
  “I do suppose that we could leave at four 
  bells, though my crew will be angrier than a 
  shark caught on a gaff at being dragged from 
  shore so quickly after making port. Barrabas, 
  for this, your associates will have that small, 
  little problem of a parcel in their short, fat 
  fingers by the sixth day, but you, my friend, 
  will add another rate again for such a 
  delivery. Are we agreed?” 
   
  “Very well, six times, then, and in six days. 
  My man will deliver the packet to you on the 
  ‘Spray in nigh half the bell.” Barrabas 
  abruptly stood and half-turned before the 
  thick, muscular arm of the man standing 
  behind the Captain caught hold of the 
  merchant's arm. 
   
  “My 
  dear 
  Barrabas. 
  You 
  know 
  our 
  arrangements by now. Half up front. Now.” 
   
  The merchant slipped his hand into a slit in 
  his coat and lazily tossed a small bag upon 
  the table. The bag hit the table not with a 
  clink of coin, but the clatter of stones. It laid 
  there for several moments before the short, 
  muscular man with thick eyebrows and dark 
  hair released the merchant's arm. The bag 
  continued to rest on the table for minutes 
  
   
  after the merchant had left; Harlequin Earling 
  ignored it as he smoked his cigar and 
  appraised the situation and the perils his 
  crew would face in this latest errand for 
  Barrabas, the Merchant Prince.  
  turned to leave 
   to 
  is 
  s 
  is 
  r 
  t 
  ep 
  o 
  g 
  n 
  le 
   
  s 
  e 
  e 
  'd 
  r 
  es 
   
  et 
  s. 
  le 
  f 
  d 
  f 
  +6, Jump +10, Knowle
  Profession 
  (shi
  Spot +6, S
  Use Rope
  Profession 
  Scroll, Skill
  (seamanship)
  Skill 
  Focus 
  –
  (navigator), 
  Exotic 
  Weapon 
  Pr
  Firearms; 
   
  Special Abi
  tra
  sen
   
  Poss
  Spray
  armor
  of pr
  pistol +1
  powder ho
  master
  (2) 
  po
  wounds
   
  Wizard S
  Base DC 
   
  Spellbook:
  mist, char
  servant, 
  missile; 2n
  detect thou
   
   “Dugan, round the men with haste and 
  ready the ‘Spray for sail. We leave in three 
  bells’ time.” The square-jawed, silent first 
  mate of the Earling's Spray nodded his 
  acceptance of the task, and 
  the Captain to his thoughts. 
   
  “Oh, and Dugan, do try not
  es, 
  set 
  de
  eneath bushy black eyebrows, 
  -elf, 42, NG, 
  tatistics: (based on 32-point buy), HP 43 (9 
  6, touch 13, flat footed 14; BAB 
  6/+1; Fort +6, Ref +4, Will +5; Str 
  athan, 
  kills and Feats: Balance +10, Bluff +7, 
  d
  Profession 
  (navigator) 
  +12, 
  pwright) 
  +14, 
  Profession 
  (seamanship) 
  +14, 
   
  (
   
  ,
   
  T
  of
  sneak 
  attack 
  +2d6, 
  pf
  s
  e
  ,
   
  o
  , 20 b
  rn, 20 bullets, 
  w
  t
  . 
  p
  =
  - 
  animate rope, sleep, obscuring 
  fe
  d
  gh
  alter self. 
  d
  Spray. Small and wiry, Harlequin has learned 
  30ft; AC 1
  +
  10, Dex 15, Con 12, Int 16, Wis 14, Cha 12; 
  Height: 5'6"; Weight 141 lbs.  
   
  Languages: Common, Elven, Chond
  Alzhedo, Chultan, Illuskan;  
   
  S
  Climb +6, Forgery +7, Gather Information 
  ge (geography) +10, 
  be too rough with the crew th
  time. Poor Foran was worthles
  for a week after you twisted h
  arm 
  out 
  of 
  the 
  shoulde
  dragging him away from tha
  lass he was warming himself 
  with.” 
   
  His 
  blue 
  ey
  wim +6 Tumble +9, 
  +8; Skill Focus - 
  shipwright), 
  Scribe 
  Focus - Profession 
   
  Leadership 
  (+4), 
  Profession 
  wo-Weapon Fighting, 
  iciency 
  - 
  lities: half-elf traits, 
  inding, evasion, trap 
  e +1. 
  ssions: 
  Earling's 
   wind fan, leather 
  +1, rapier +1, ring 
  tection +1, flintlock 
  ullets +1, 
  ork flintlock pistol, 
  ion 
  of 
  cure 
  light 
  ells Per Day: 4/4/3, 
   13 + spell level  
   
  0 
  - 
  all; 
  1st 
  b
  almost 
  twinkled 
  as 
  Dugan 
  cracked a wicked but mirthful 
  half-grin and made his way t
  the door. Harlequin Earlin
  opened the pouch sitting o
  the rough surface of the tab
  and grinned at the vast sum in
  gemstones that lay within. Hi
  soft gray eyes scanned th
  tavern, 
  looking 
  for 
  suitabl
  men and women; he knew he
  probably need extra muscle fo
  this next adventure. His ey
  settled on a group of men 
  sitting near the fire, trying to
  warm themselves but not y
  too 
  deep 
  into 
  their 
  cup
  Fluidly, he rose from the tab
  while dropping the bag o
  stones into his overcoat, an
  sauntered 
  to 
  the 
  table 
  o
  hireswords and spellslingers. 
   
   
  Harlequin Earling: male half
  Waterdeep, Rogue3/Fighter2/Wizard4, 
  CR 9. 
  m person, unseen 
  ather 
  fall, 
  magic 
   - gust of wind, 
  ts, obscure object, 
   
  Harlequin is a well-intentioned an  inquisitive 
  man. He is fascinated by the sea and by 
  technological 
  improvements 
  he 
  can 
  incorporate into his pride and joy, Earling's 
   
  S
  + 3d6 + 4d4 + 2d10); Init +2; Speed 
  
   
  to use his wits and charm to avoid problems 
  and escape those wishing him harm. His 
  regarious and friendly nature endears him 
  at deal of tolerance in dealing 
  ith those whose social mores and beliefs 
  ner. 
  f that money on the 
  re of orphans, animals, and other poor and 
  ion of ships, thoughts that were not 
  mmonly 
  accepted 
  within 
  the 
  marine 
  onizing the 
  ipbuilding industry on the Sword Coast.  
  ns 
  ere seized by creditors upon his death, and 
  pressed by his son’s elegant creation, 
  g
  to most of his business contacts, and he has 
  learned a gre
  w
  differ from his own. Harlequin is fiercely 
  protective of his crew, and isn't opposed to 
  more direct means of dealing with those he 
  feels have pushed too far or wronged his 
  crew in some man
   
  As a mariner, Harlequin's patron deity is 
  Valkur, although he is also partial to Gond in 
  the moments when his intellectual curiosities 
  divert his attentions from his ship, crew, and 
  business. Harlequin is nothing, however, if 
  not a pragmatist, and takes great care to 
  avoid offending the Gods of Fury or their 
  priests.  
   
  Harlequin Earling was born from a short-lived 
  union between Garelys Aurumtran, a moon 
  elf hailing from Evermeet, and Abigeth 
  Earling, a Waterdhavian woman. Although 
  Garelys provided a modest stipend for the 
  raising and care of his child, Harlequin's 
  mother spent much o
  ca
  suffering located in Waterdeep.  
   
  At 
  the 
  young 
  age 
  of 
  11, 
  Harlequin 
  apprenticed with a local shipwright named 
  Belias 
  Backan, 
  a 
  devoted 
  if 
  somewhat 
  eccentric worshiper of Gond. Belias espoused 
  radical 
  thoughts 
  on 
  the 
  design 
  and 
  construct
  co
  community. Despite this lack of widespread 
  acceptance, Belias did attract some interest 
  from various groups. He obtained several 
  small 
  commissions 
  for 
  the 
  design 
  and 
  building of ships from divers merchant 
  houses and consortiums throughout the 
  Sword Coast. Nevertheless, his business was 
  only marginally successful, and Belias never 
  realized his goal of revoluti
  sh
   
  Harlequin learned much of the shipwright 
  trade as a result of his apprenticeship with 
  Belias. Although his apprenticeship provided 
  modest income to Harlequin, the greatest 
  reward was in the knowledge and experience 
  he gained from Belias Backan. These ideas 
  were 
  eagerly 
  devoured 
  by 
  the 
  young 
  apprentice, 
  and, 
  in 
  some 
  cases, 
  even 
  improved upon. In the late winter of 1338 
  DR, 
  Belias 
  Backan 
  was 
  killed 
  in 
  an 
  unfortunate 
  accident 
  involving 
  the 
  incorporation of gnomish steam technologies 
  into small river boats. Belias's operatio
  w
  the young Harlequin was forced to pursue his 
  way in the world again. After a number of 
  abortive and failed attempts to join with 
  other existing shipwrights, Harlequin signed 
  on as a carpenter aboard the Rose Griffon. 
  He found himself attracted to the individual 
  discipline and freedom that the sea life 
  afforded him. 
   
  After several years and promotions to greater 
  ranks and responsibilities aboard the Rose 
  Griffon, Harlequin was contacted by his 
  father, who had secretly been keeping tabs 
  upon his estranged son through agents and 
  occasional magical scrying. As a gift to his 
  son, Garelys allowed him to design and 
  construct a ship of his own, utilizing the 
  design techniques learned from Belias. After 
  nearly 
  two 
  years 
  of 
  planning 
  and 
  construction, 
  Harlequin 
  completed 
  the 
  Earling's Spray.  
   
  Im
  Garelys assisted Harlequin in establishing 
  contacts within the merchant houses and 
  consortiums shipping valuable but small 
  goods along the length of the Sword Coast. 
  For the past twenty-three years, Harlequin 
  has captained the ‘Spray, accumulating his 
  own wealth, which he has since used to 
  repay his father. To this day, Harlequin 
  continues to ply the lanes between the Sword 
  Coast, Calimshan and Chult, transporting 
  valuable cargoes in record times.  
   
   
   
  
   
   
   
  The Batrachi 
  By Gray Richardson 
   
  To Fourth Reader Shaynara Tullastar, Candlekeep 
  From Meluron Soondulyn, Waterdeep 
   
  28 Flamerule, Year of Wild Magic 
   
  Lady Loremaster, 
   
  Thank you for your recent help with my research of the Batrachi. 
   
  I have long sought out tales of the Iqua Tel'Quessir, since my childhood in Naramyr, when my sea-elf mother 
  would float me on her knee and tell me stories of the great creator races.  The Iqua Tel'Quessir comprised a 
  handful of peoples. First among them was a race of serpent-men, who spawned the yuan-ti, lizardmen, 
  nagas and other cursed scaly folk.  Numbered also among the Iqua Tel'Quessir were a race of bird-men who 
  ruled the skies, and  the mysterious fey folk, who befriended elves when first we came to Toril, and who live 
  to this day in the secret places of wood and stream. My favorite tales of all, though, involved the water-
  breathing race of shape-shifters that ruled both seas and land at the dawn of time, before the arrival of elves 
  in Faerûn. The race that some people call the Batrachi. 
   
  My childhood friend, Shularashf, would tell me stories of how his people, the tako from Shou Lung, were 
  descended from this race.  He would change the color of his skin, puff his mantle, contort his octopoid face 
  and knot his tentacles ingeniously to mimic a semblance of people and things, as if there lay dormant in him 
  some remnant of the Batrachi's true shape-shifting. 
   
  "Melu, my friend" he would say to me, "my people may have come to Serôs from far to the east, but the 
  tako settled in Kara-Tur from a fallen empire beyond the setting sun, an empire that rose from the depths of 
  the ocean to touch the sky." When he told me these legends, his skin would turn a serene blue, his eight 
  arms would relax and stretch out, and his single golden eye would stare off into the distance, as if he were 
  adrift in dreams of long lost glory. 
   
  When my human father brought me to his home in Waterdeep and apprenticed me to Blackstaff Tower, I was 
  overjoyed on those occasions when I could sneak off from my studies of the Art. I would slip down to the 
  library of the academy and the libraries of Oghma, where I could read of the rich history of Faerûn and seek 
  what little glimpses I could find of the lore of lost ages and the Iqua Tel'Quessir.  
   
  Thank you for your kind introduction to Lorekeeper Sangalor; he has been most helpful to me.  His familiarity 
  with Skullport and the underdark environs beneath Waterdeep has been invaluable to my research. 
   
  He is a curious fellow, for a priest of Oghma. I have noticed how many are fearful and wary in their dealings 
  with him. But I find his soul to be filled with great humor and a sincere love of knowledge.  His illithid visage 
  is oddly comforting to me; it puts me in mind of my childhood friends beneath the Sea of Fallen Stars. 
   
  I am preparing for an excursion into Skullport.  I hope to seek out and interview a living descendant of the 
  Batrachi to find if they have any surviving legends of their forebears. For I am assured that in Skullport, 
  there yet lives a group of Batrachi descendants.  The only survivors of the Batrachi to still retain their 
  ancestors' shape-shifting prowess: the dread race known as the doppelgangers. 
   
  I hope this letter finds you well. I will let you know if my researches bear any fruit. 
   
  Yours in knowledge, 
   
  Meluron Soondulyn 
  
   
  From the Journal of Meluron Soondulyn: 
  11 Eleint, Year of Wild Magic 
   
  ith the aid of my apprentice, 
  Jaster, I had been making 
  enquiries 
  after 
  doppelgangers 
  down
  Skullport 
  for 
  nigh 
  month – to no avail.  I had 
   
  es around 
  kullport to assist me in arranging a meeting 
  ith a doppelganger.  Or at least take my 
    I naïvely feared they were 
   shy race, themselves afraid of exposure 
  e sea and walk on land." 
  e ocean raised a great empire in Faerûn, 
  y challenged 
  e gods and were slain with fire from the 
  ehind in the sea," he continued, "who loved 
  s from the fire of the gods.  But then, after 
  ut we had learned our lesson, and forswore 
  ld act in secret, where the 
  ods could not see.  We live in secret below.  
  .  Our people 
  abide in every realm across Faerûn.  We 
  infest every echelon of your society. You do 
  not 
  know 
  us. 
  But 
  we 
  consume 
  your 
  knowledge.  We replace you.  And one day 
  le you."  A smile of rapture 
   his face as dawning horror crossed 
  . 
  "Jaster, is that you?" I asked, my voice 
  choked with dread. 
   
  "You fool" replied the thing, his perfect 
  disguise disrupt
  grey that rippled across his face. "I ate Jaster 
  an hour ago." 
  I ran from him then.  I ran as fast as my 
   
  It has been some time since I have braved 
  believes to be descended from the Batrachi.  
  And so I bought my way on to a ship that 
   
  When the ship docked in Skullport, I slipped 
  ive blue ring octopus. 
  g of my 
  adventure to a tentacled horror I mistook as 
  re of 
  peace and friendship, only to have the thing 
  mantle enveloped me, smothering my face.  
  my contingent spells 
  discharged and boiled the water around me -  
  while protecting me from scalding. As the 
  heat and bubbles churned the water, the 
  dead thing soon uncoiled from around me.  It 
  the 
   
  in 
  on 
  a 
  subtly, at first, and later not
  so subtly, asked various parti
  S
  w
  message to one.
  a
  and of contact with intolerant surface folk. 
   
  And then today, after I had sent Jaster off on 
  an errand, he returned with a most curious 
  story: 
   
  "The doppelgangers are indeed descended 
  from the Batrachi," said my apprentice.  
  "They were the second wave to rise up from 
  th
   
  "The second?" I asked, "what do you mean?" 
   
  "The first of the Batrachi to step forth from 
  th
  before the dominion of man, before elves 
  ruled the lands, before even dragons flew in 
  the skies.  The Batrachi were the true 
  masters of Faerûn, before the
  th
  sky." 
   
  "Who told you this, Jas?" I queried, "What 
  have you found?" 
   
  "There were those of us who remained 
  b
  the sea, and were loath to walk in the air 
  below the sun. We rested in the loving 
  embrace of Mother Ocean, and she protected 
  u
  an age, there came a time again for us to 
  step up onto the shores and reclaim our 
  birthright." 
   
  "The doppelgangers bravely took those steps. 
  B
  our pride.  We wou
  g
  We move among you unseen
  we shall ru
  crossed
  my own
   
  ed by a momentary pale of 
   
  webbed feet have ever propelled me upon 
  the land. 
   
  * * * * 
   
  9 Uktar, Year of Wild Magic  
  Skullport, but I finally found the courage to 
  renew my explorations.  Sangalor told me of 
  another race in the underdark that he 
  sailed by dark of night into the sea caves, 
  and traveled by hoist and through great locks 
  down into the underdark. 
  into the water and made my way down, down 
  through the channels and underground river 
  conduits, deep into the underwater passages 
  to search for the elus
   
  I nearly lost my life the first mornin
  a friendly octopus.  Seeing lithe tentacles 
  waving and uncurling from a crevice, I 
  approached with open arms in a gestu
  lunge at me. 
   
  Grasping me with coiling arms, its leathery 
  In reaction, one of 
  
   
  appeared to be an aquatic variant of the 
  re that may 
  be related in some fashion to the blue ring, 
  o
  f
   
  a
  change the colo
  of 
  ve wall that sported the distinctive azure-
  a language spell, and achieved a 
  rprising result: my skin came alive with 
  of 
  peace 
  and 
  iendship. 
  mouflage and became noticeably paler, 
  asked her of the history of her people.  
  rded history, passed down 
  om mothers to children in sagas, which 
  d scrags.  She sung of how they 
  ll to enslavement at the fins of the 
  ith trepidation and shame at my 
  eople’s role in that tale, but whether she 
  nging tentacles for arms and 
  gs, giving up the sea, and giving up their 
  em a pitiable race. 
  She knew nothing of the Batrachi who arose 
  and 
  fell 
  upon 
  th
  d 
  before 
  the 
  t legends tell 
   seminal myth about two sisters, the 
  y back up to the 
  urface. 
  am in luck!  The patriarch of the Waterdeep 
  till, he shows some considered 
  kill at hiring a ship and a worthy crew.  He 
  darkmantle, an octopoid creatu
  but which is c
  no intelligence. 
   
  I searched for 
  shy and retiring
  is hard to spot 
  mpletely bestial, possessing 
  our days before I found my 
  friend. The blue ring octopus 
  s it lairs in tiny rifts and can 
  r and texture of its skin as 
  camouflage to match its surroundings.  But 
  when at rest it appears a soft brown color, 
  with distinctive blue rings dotting its body. 
   
  And there, in a crevice, I caught sight of a 
  curious eye gazing at me from a patch 
  ca
  limned spots. 
   
  I cast 
  su
  undulating color. As I spoke, shifting patterns 
  of red and yellow and brown rippled across 
  my face and hands, and I gestured as much 
  as 
  intoned 
  a 
  greeting 
  fr
  In 
  response, 
  the 
  octopus 
  relaxed 
  her 
  ca
  now standing out in sharp contrast to the 
  dark cave wall.  She unfurled her long 
  tentacles and returned my greeting in a 
  flourish 
  of 
  multi-hued 
  patterns 
  and 
  gesticulations.  And thus began a silent 
  conversation, uttered entirely in words of 
  color and motion. 
   
  I 
  While they have no writing, they have a rich 
  tradition of unreco
  fr
  they learn by rote, and which relate the 
  surprising annals of a fascinating people, 
  whose chronicles detail events going back 
  countless ages. 
   
  She told me tales of her ancestors and how 
  they triumphed in the aboleth wars, tricked 
  gullible 
  kuo-toas, 
  and 
  cleverly 
  defeated 
  merrows an
  fe
  morkoth, and how the founding mother of 
  her clan freed them from slavery, braved the 
  grotto of the marids and won a wish that 
  founded a dynasty. 
   
  When I pressed her for even older legends 
  regarding the origin of her people, she told 
  me how they had once lived in the great 
  oceans above, beneath the sky and sun. 
  According to the sagas, they escaped into the 
  earth when the hateful elves boiled the sea. I 
  winced w
  p
  knew I was part elf or not, she seemed not to 
  hold it against me. 
   
  I asked her of the doppelgangers.  She did 
  indeed know legends of her doppelganger 
  kin. She told me how they surrendered to the 
  change, excha
  le
  faces.  The doppelgangers lost their identity, 
  and with it their soul.  The blue rings 
  consider th
   
  e 
  lan
  doppelgangers.  But their oldes
  a
  daughters of Mother Ocean, and how the 
  eldest left the nest to travel above where the 
  younger dared not go. My friend sang it for 
  me, 
  a 
  keening 
  lament, 
  a 
  kinetic 
  and 
  chromatic song of abiding loss which was so 
  heartfelt that my friend could not continue. 
  She coiled her tentacles tightly from grief and 
  withdrew deep into a crevice. I signaled my 
  thanks and made my wa
  s
   
  * * * * 
   
  26 Alturiak, Year of Rogue Dragons 
   
  I 
  branch of the Amnish merchant house of 
  Krimmevol has agreed to fund my expedition 
  to discover sunken Batrachi cities in the Sea 
  of Swords – in exchange for taking on his son 
  Carmello as an apprentice.  Carmello displays 
  some talent already in the Art.  More useful 
  to me even s
  s
  assures me we can sail within a tenday. 
   
  * * * * 
   
   
   
   
  
   
  5 Mirtul, Year of Rogue Dragons 
   
  Success!  A half day's sail west-southwest 
  from the southern tip of the Moonshaes, we 
  discovered our goal: a sunken city of glass 
  wers. 
  e 
  estern edge of the Faerûnian continent – 
  he city is mostly shattered, the broken 
  elven cataclysm which ripped the 
  mise, that was readily 
  anufactured from the unlimited supply of 
  ed 
  together, 
  or 
  perhaps 
  ulpted directly from the sand of the sea 
  d as they were by the 
   octopi were indeed the 
  tants of this city. 
   of whom my 
  lue-ringed friend had spoken. 
   to excavate tomorrow.  
   
  have 
  ourished quite strongly in the last days of 
  this city, before the
  ng. 
  e had barely begun to explore when we 
  ere set upon by a kraken that laired inside. 
  e were naïve to think the ruins remained 
  to
   
  The sea is relatively shallow here, and 
  continues on so for many days sailing before 
  dropping off steeply to unplumbed depths in 
  the west.  As far out to sea as we find 
  ourselves, my studies lead me to believe 
  these were once the coastal waters of th
  w
  which may have extended above land as far 
  as the Moonshaes, or farther, before the 
  Sundering. 
   
  T
  towers fallen. What buildings remain intact 
  are knocked aslant, their floors turned nearly 
  perpendicular to the seafloor.  The city was 
  destroyed in a great catastrophe, which my 
  divination magics date to some seventeen 
  thousand years before Dale Reckoning – the 
  time of the 
  land apart, sinking many western cities and 
  creating the Sword Coast. 
   
  * * * * 
   
  6 Mirtul, Year of Rogue Dragons 
   
  The primary construction material is glass, a 
  substance, I sur
  m
  sand. No doubt it was preferred as much for 
  its abundance as its durability and resistance 
  to rot and encrustation by flora and fauna.  
  Some buildings were constructed from great 
  glass blocks as thick as from shoulder to 
  fingertip. Other buildings were smooth and 
  unbroken, as if the glass blocks were 
  seemlessly 
  join
  sc
  floor by means of lost magic. 
   
  Inside the structures, any furnishings or 
  chattels were long since lost to the millennia. 
  But many of the walls still retained some 
  discernible art – including friezes and stelae 
  in bas relief that had survived the wearing of 
  the waves. We also found mosaics of colored 
  glass that, tarnishe
  grime of ages, blazed with brilliant color 
  when illumined by a light spell. 
   
  Among the artistic displays were depictions 
  of battles of humanoid creatures (sahuagin or 
  locathah?) against an octopoid race. It was 
  not clear, at first, which race inhabited the 
  city.  Depictions of octopi seemed a popular 
  theme in their art.  As we explored, it 
  became evident the
  inhabi
   
  A 
  very 
  common 
  motif 
  that 
  we 
  found 
  throughout the buildings was an image of 
  what I assume to be a mother octopus 
  cradling a multitude of tiny young in the coils 
  of her tentacles.  Carmello thought it might 
  be a divine symbol, a fertility goddess 
  perhaps, or the Mother Ocean
  b
   
  I wonder if Mother Ocean could be an 
  undersea 
  conception 
  of 
  the 
  goddess 
  Chauntea?  It would only be natural for an 
  octopus race to worship her in their own 
  image… 
   
  Although 
  this 
  mother 
  goddess 
  was 
  prominently depicted, she was not the only 
  god they venerated.  I believe these people 
  had a diverse pantheon of gods, though their 
  names be lost to time.  There is a half-buried 
  temple dome in the heart of the ruins which 
  we intend
   
  * * * * 
  7 Mirtul, Year of Rogue Dragons 
   
  Today we excavated the sand from the 
  entrance to the large domed temple.  From 
  the inside we could see from the many holy 
  symbols that it was dedicated to the protean 
  kraken god, Panzuriel, an entity whose 
  worship has all but vanished from the Realms 
  in modern times. The kraken deity was 
  vanquished, due in no small part to the 
  efforts of my mother's god, Deep Sashelas.  
  However, 
  his 
  worship 
  seems 
  to 
  fl
   Sunderi
   
  W
  w
  W
  
   
  uninhabited.  The kraken devoured four of 
  y crew, and drew Carmello, my apprentice, 
   of undersea exploration are ended 
  r now. 
  party finally chanced upon the 
  leaming tower tops of a sunken city, buried 
  e made camp inside the ruins for the night, 
  securing 
  ourselves 
  against 
  the 
  many 
  octurnal predators and undead that roam 
  he next 
  orning we were astonished to find the 
  in a maze of 
  wers 
  and 
  bridges 
  and 
  canals 
  – 
  the 
  not the octopoid Batrachi, but rather a frog-
  ur boat a few 
  ays earlier. 
  wagonlengths 
  ll and twice again as wide, which showed 
  had moved on or died out? If so, 
  ey had since descended into barbarism – 
  reat sacrilege to explore the ruins.  Despite 
  our protestations, 
  sted we leave the 
  marshes. 
  heir warriors are quite fearsome.  They herd 
  y to Eagle's 
  eak.  
  m
  into the depths below.  I do not know how I 
  will be able to bear the news to his father. I 
  am sure I will have lost his patronage. I fear 
  my days
  fo
   
  * * * * 
   
  19 Eleasias, Year of Rogue Dragons 
   
  I have retraced the steps of Brother Twick of 
  Verdusk 
  into 
  the 
  Farsea 
  marshes 
  and 
  uncovered the ruins of another amazing city.  
  Braving goblins, bullywugs and a rampaging 
  hydra, our 
  g
  deep within the swamps. 
   
  The ruins are constructed in the same 
  distinctive style as the undersea city I 
  discovered in the ocean near the Moonshaes.  
  Seamless glass and stone and crystal joined 
  to form tall, slender towers which evinced a 
  graceful beauty, despite the clinging muck of 
  the swamp.  
   
  W
  n
  the marshes. When we woke t
  m
  waters of the swamp had receded below us.  
  The city had risen up in the night, lifting us 
  to dazzling heights!  I know not what natural 
  or magical phenomenon could account for 
  this, but it was only temporary, as we were 
  soon to find.  By highsun of the next day the 
  city began to sink again, as the swamp 
  rapidly reclaimed its ancient towers by 
  nightfall. 
   
  This land must have been a swamp or 
  wetland even at the height of the city's glory. 
  The city spread around us 
  to
  architecture sublimely merging water with 
  land and sky. A fitting abode for a people 
  that trod the waves as well as walked on 
  land. 
   
  But as we explored the city, I was surprised 
  to see that what art we could find depicted 
  like race of humanoids, not unlike the 
  bullywugs that shot arrows at o
  d
   
  We found a crystalline statue of a regal-
  looking amphibian in elaborate armor.  One 
  of the entranceways bore a frieze of a battle 
  scene: tiny frog-men fighting humans five 
  times their height – or giants, more probably. 
  And in one great hall, we found a mosaic of 
  brilliant colored glass, many 
  ta
  another battle scene: the same giants 
  opposing 
  tiny 
  frog-men… 
  However, 
  an 
  amphibian spellcaster in the corner appeared 
  to have summoned a kraken-headed colossus 
  to fight as their champion against the giants.  
  It towered over the battlefield, at least four 
  times the height of the cowering giants 
  below.   
   
  Could these frog-men once have been the 
  civilized ancestors of the brutish bullywugs 
  from the surrounding marshes?  Did they 
  come to inhabit the city after the octopoid 
  Batrachi 
  th
  as the city itself descended into the swamp. 
   
  After the city sank again beneath the mire, 
  we searched for other ruins. But we were set 
  upon by Marsh Drovers, barbaric humans 
  who dwell in the marshes.  They are a 
  superstitious people, and consider it some 
  g
  they insi
   
  T
  and ride catoblepas as mounts. Fearful of 
  their deadly gaze, we headed off towards the 
  town of Eagle's Peak, but then doubled back 
  some time later for further exploration. 
   
  But the Drovers were cunning and attacked 
  us in the night.  My apprentice Oraldyn woke 
  me just in time.  He dragged me from my 
  tent nigh 
  a 
  breath 
  before 
  a 
  charging 
  catoblepas trampled it. Half our party was 
  slain by the beast's fatal glare.  The rest of 
  us managed to make our wa
  P
   
  * * * * 
   
  
   
   
  8 Marpenoth, Year of Rogue Dragons 
   
  I hired a guide at the Sweetwater Inn in the 
  village of Eckersley Manor, a local ranger 
  named Loskar. He agreed to take us into the 
  Marsh of Chelimber.  He claimed to know of 
  me ruins, and said he knew how to evade 
  the bullywugs a
  r marsh fauna. 
  either claim proved true. 
  ullywugs ambushed us on our second day, 
   turned out that our rescuers were a 
  hen they learned of our story, we were 
  were not lost to time. 
  , and who remember the Days of 
  hunder like yesterday." 
   remember dealing with my 
  atrachi ancestors long before the time of 
  tecomer to the Batrachi pantheon. 
  e was a god of metamorphosis.  His creed 
   
  ater." 
  he Batrachi settled to the east, amid the 
  en of 
  nnam." 
  tans encroached on Batrachi lands, 
  nd war erupted.  The titans would trample 
  the Batrachi, laying
  o their cities.  The 
  tans would summon hundred-handed ones 
  so
  nd othe
  N
   
  B
  and instantly slew Loskar.  I pleaded for 
  them to spare us, or at least the boy, but 
  they were unmoved and made as if to kill us, 
  too.  Suddenly the bullywugs themselves 
  came under attack, from what we thought at 
  the time were a rival tribe of bullywugs. 
   
  It
  different race of frog-men altogether. Smaller 
  and more lithesome than the bullywugs, 
  these people called themselves Sivs.  Despite 
  their smaller stature, the sivs effortlessly 
  dispatched the bullywugs – and most of them 
  did so without the use of weapons. 
   
  W
  brought to the lodge of a siv elder – a 
  wizardly siv who had no small training in the 
  Art. I dare say he had much greater skill than 
  I. 
   
  He had a feast prepared for us and soon we 
  fell 
  to 
  discussing 
  the 
  Batrachi 
  – 
  a 
  conversation that advanced my knowledge 
  immensely.  He listened intently as I told him 
  of my studies and of my encounters beneath 
  Waterdeep, and of the sunken city in the 
  Trackless Sea.  I told him of the ruins in the 
  Farsea Marshes and how I wished the 
  mysteries 
   
  "You should try planewalking, my boy", he 
  said to me, in near-perfect Chondathan.  
  "The answers you seek have long turned to 
  dust on the material plane, wiped away by 
  thirty-two thousand years of mortal history.  
  And yet there are beings among the planes 
  for whom the creator races are considered 
  young
  T
   
  "You have walked the planes?" I asked, 
  astounded. 
   
  "Oh yes. I have had truck with marids and 
  demons who
  B
  dragons." 
   
  "Your Batrachi ancestors!?" I sputtered, "but 
  the Batrachi were an octopoid race…" 
   
  "Oh no, my boy.  The Batrachi looked much 
  as I do, or our bullywug cousins who have 
  fallen so far from their ancient grandeur.  
  True, our people spawned from the sea and 
  dwelt there in our infancy.  They built an 
  admirable civilization beneath the waves, and 
  filled the oceans with many marvels.  But 
  then came Ramenos." 
   
  "Spawn of the great World Serpent, Ramenos 
  was a la
  H
  proclaimed the imperative of transformation. 
  He was a charismatic god. The fervor of his 
  faith spread throughout their oceanic empire. 
  Ramenos preached that their time beneath 
  the waves had come to an end.  It was time 
  to wriggle out upon the shore.  Their true 
  destiny lay in mastery of the land as well as
  w
   
  "And so, through a ritual of transcension, 
  what the elves would call 'high magic', my 
  people shifted their shapes a final time, 
  becoming amphibious. We grew bones and a 
  spine with which to stand erect and step out 
  upon the land." 
   
  "T
  wetlands and the coastal regions of the inner 
  seas. There were four seas then.  Little ones, 
  as the stars had yet to fall. There we 
  spawned a great empire in the heart of 
  Faerûn – until the coming of the childr
  A
   
  "The giant races bred like vermin in those 
  days.  And the greatest of their lot, the tribe 
  of Lanaxis, the titans, settled in the fertile 
  plains between the inland seas.  Lanaxis built 
  his kingdom there." 
   
  "The ti
  a
   waste t
  ti
  
   
  and giant insects to fight for them.  The 
   to 
  ght as their champions, colossal fiends with 
   years, until the 
  atrachi 
  sought 
  help 
  from 
  outside 
  the 
  " 
  ouging a 
  ar so deep between the inner seas, they 
  s fell from the stars, peppering the seed 
  f dragonkind across the face of the One 
  ut by the 
  tastrophe. There were a few survivors, but 
  that left them half 
  umanoid, half tentacled monstrosities.  You 
  se of the Triad, perpetually 
  urdened by their transgression, forbidden, 
  f our civilization was destroyed by 
  our own people, the elves.  When the 
  e cities 
  nd tolled the death knell for our watery 
  Batrachi in turn summoned krakentua
  fi
  kraken heads who stood as tall as weir trees. 
  The war soon devastated both sea and soil, 
  but the kingdoms were a match for one 
  another and neither gained advantage for 
  very long." 
   
  "The war dragged on for
  B
  cosmos.  They summoned an entity from 
  beyond the planes: a primeval god called 
  Asgorath.  He was the father of the dragon 
  race, who were unknown in Faerûn at that 
  time.  They struck a terrible bargain. He 
  would aid the Batrachi, for the price of 
  granting his children purchase in Faerûn.
   
  "Asgorath flew into the sky and pulled the 
  stars down from the Sea of Night.  Some say 
  he wrestled a great comet from its orbit, 
  others say it was the tears of Selûne. But the 
  kingdom of Lanaxis was destroyed that 
  terrible day when fire rained down from the 
  sky, setting the land ablaze and g
  sc
  merged together to form the Sea of Fallen 
  Stars." 
   
  "And in the wake of that great fire, a hail of 
  egg
  o
  Land. The tiny lizards that hatched belied the 
  great wyrms they would one day become to 
  challenge the creator races for dominion of 
  the world." 
   
  "But what happened to the Batrachi?" I 
  asked. "How did they come to disappear?" 
   
  "They were all but wiped o
  ca
  their civilization was destroyed.  Some, like 
  the bullywugs and my own people, fell to 
  savagery.  Some returned to the coastal 
  cities of our ancestors, to seek refuge with 
  those we had left behind." 
   
  "The Zoveri were among those.  They 
  repudiated Ramenos.  They underwent an 
  abortive metamorphosis 
  h
  can find them to this day in the shining sea 
  of the Hou
  b
  even in their afterlife, to tread upon the 
  land." 
   
  "The last o
  y
  Sundering cleaved the land and shattered the 
  western coast of Faerûn, it toppled th
  a
  cousins." 
   
  His statement shattered my own heart. We 
  talked more of those bygone ages, but my 
  heart was heavy with shame for my people.  
  Truly, we elves bear our own burden for our 
  many transgressions against the land. 
   
   
  * * * * 
   
  
   
  To Fourth Reader Shaynara Tullastar, Candlekeep 
  ndun
   is with great sorrow that I report to you the de
  cien
  Rethild, the Great Swamp, when a 
  gly
  tumbled into the demesne of Valraxaxath, a 
  uron
   lif
  ome
  lore
  or the 
  price  
  eluron taught me much in my time with him, although my studies 
  et incomplete.  I 
  alf s  worthy as him.  If you know of any masters 
  ld be forever grateful for you to recommend me. 
  * * * 
  terdeep 
  keep 
  24th of Tarsakh, Year of Lightning Storms 
  r cherished friend. I have copied for you herein 
  k you will find of great interest. 
  he boy who bears you this letter is a stalwart and eager fellow. He seeks to apprentice himself to 
  or him in your tower? 
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
  From Oraldyn Krain, apprentice to Meluron Soo
  yl 
   
  6th of Ches, Year of Lightning Storms 
   
  Lady Loremaster, 
   
  It
  ath of my master, your friend and colleague, 
  Meluron Soondunyl.  We were exploring the an
  t ruins of 
  terrible black wyrm fell upon us.  We had unwittin
   s
  dragon that claims the ruins for his lair.  Mel
   was mortally wounded saving me from the 
  dragon's jet of acid. I managed to escape with my
  e, thanks to his heroic sacrifice. 
   
  I am enclosing with this letter his journal and s
   papers which contain his researches into the 
  lost Batrachi.  I hope you or some other learned 
  masters at Candlekeep will find  a use f
  knowledge herein – it was gained at too great a 
  .
   
  M
  are as y
  would be blessed to find another teacher even h
  o
  of the Art that seek an eager apprentice, I wou
   
  Yours in knowledge, 
   
  Oraldyn Krain 
   
  * 
   
   
   
  To Lord Khelben Arunsun, Blackstaff Tower, Wa
  From Fourth Reader Shaynara Tullastar, Candle
   
   
  K— 
   
  It saddens my heart to bring you such news of ou
  excerpts from his letters and journal which I thin
   
  T
  a worthy master.  Perhaps you can find a place f
   
  —ST 
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
  
   
   
   
   
   their home 
  nd the death cries of the fallen is their lullaby. The lust for more power, for those that have it, is 
  Green Scales  
  ase: Almraiven (official), Volothamp (unofficial) 
  f Operation: The Shining Sea and its coasts as well Calimshan, Tethyr, and 
  mn. 
  L
  Female Extaminaar, 9th level rogue)  
  G
  bbed  
  umber of Members: Unknown 
  General Alignment: LE, NE 
  History 
  he story of the Green Scales begins deep 
  beneath the streets of far off Hlondeth, in the 
  ilhon Reach. It was here, in the year of the 
  n (1351 DR),  that their mistress, 
  ashiana, hatched from an egg as a member 
  e house and their way of life are what will 
  hen the time had come for her to be sent 
  to the world in the service of her house, 
  ashiana 
  was 
  sent 
  to 
  Almraiven, 
  in 
  Calimshan, where she was to take over an 
  lready established spy cell. The cell’s old 
  ader, an extaminaar named Vass’alar, was 
  not one of the more devote followers of 
  Varae, nor was he entirely loyal to the 
  teachings of the hous
   While Vass’alar told 
  Sashiana of how the c ll was set up, he also 
  told her honeyed wo
  s about how House 
  Extaminos was growing stagnant and old.  
   
  At first, Sashiana was shaken by Vass’alar’s 
  cherous words. She thought of reporting 
  s in Hlondeth. But what 
  kind of operative would she be if she asked 
  for 
  Besides, the old snake had his uses, after all. 
  When he had served his purpose, she would 
  think of a way to reward him for his treason. 
   Vass’alar knew all too well what was waiting 
  took over the cell. When 
  the time had come to dispatch of Vass’alar, 
  Sashiana simply sent him down to the torture 
  chambers.  Now alone to guide the small 
  network of spies and informants, she soon 
  found 
  out 
  what 
  V
  Sashiana’s superiors back in Hlondeth were 
  focused on their own advancement, and not 
  the advancement of 
  use Extaminos as a 
  whole.  
   
  hat Sashiana did not and still does not 
  now is that her superiors were members of 
  the Sibyl’s Chosen. The information she 
  By Daniel Rosenquist 
   
  The men and women from countless regions and races that fight goes under many names may it 
  be Sellsword, Soldier of fortune, Mercenary, or Hiresword. Even thought they seem to be set apart 
  at a first glance, they do follow a common cause. They fight for gold, the battlefield is
  a
  an endless cycle and so these men and women always find work when the horn of battle sounds. 
   
   
  Company Type: Standing, fixed 
  B
  Current Sphere(s) o
  A
  eader: Sashiana (
  overnment: We
  N
   
   
   
  it back to her superior
  T
  V
  Crow
  S
  of House Extaminos. Sashiana was raised in 
  the City of Serpents, and given the view that 
  In the meantime, she would play along. 
   
  th
  one day rule Faerûn.  
   
  for him. He had once done the same for his 
  master, when he 
  W
  out in
  S
  a
  le
  e.
  e
  rd
  trea
  permission 
  on 
  everything 
  she 
  did? 
  ass’alar 
  had 
  meant. 
  Ho
  W
  k
  
   
  provided them was not used for their own 
  benefit, it was used to benefit the Serpent 
  Sibyl. (See Serpent Kingdoms for more 
  information on this cult)  
   
  A few more months passed, 
  and 
  Sashiana 
  began 
  to 
  realize 
  the 
  futility 
  of 
  reporting to Hlondeth, when 
  nothing gainful was done 
  with 
  her 
  information. 
  Instead, she decided, she 
  would forward the house’s 
  plans her own way. Sashiana 
  quickly and quietly moved 
  merchant, and a house servant. Mos
  cell members do not even know they 
  work for the Green Scales. Instead,
  they think they are earning a few extra
  coins by reporting to a local authority
  her base of operations to 
  Volothamp, 
  covering 
  her 
  actions by leaving a cell in 
  Almravien 
  to 
  report 
  to 
  londeth. When the move to 
  ad broken away from 
  kills 
  ince the move, Sashiana 
  as begun spreading her 
  hold across the Lands of 
  trigue. As an intelligence 
  Scaled 
  nes, or any deal that she 
  Strategies and Tactics:  
   
  The 
  Green 
  Scales 
  spy 
  network 
  is 
  compromised of small cells in each major city 
  in Calimshan, Tethyr, and Amn. Each cell 
  knows of no more then two other cells, and 
  the 
  regional 
  leader
  There 
  are 
  no 
  professional requirements to join a 
  ell; a cell could, for example, consist 
  of a baker, a guard, a caravan 
  t 
   
   
   
  or power group. 
  election of new members to the 
  twork is a slow process, and one 
  at Sashiana is not interested in 
  changing. Although the base of the 
  network consists of commoners, a 
  few elite spies roam the Lands of 
  Sashiana. They also collect and bring 
  back the more valuable information 
  to her lair beneath Volothamp.  
   
  The Green Scales avoid combat, only 
  taking missions that require infiltration 
  and spying. The core members of the 
  “Secretive and few in any city” is the 
  H
  Volothamp 
  was 
  complete, 
  Sashiana begun forming the 
  Green Scales spy network. 
  She h
  Intrigue, doing the dirty work for 
  her masters in Hlondeth, but 
  she could still use the s
  they had given her.  
   
  S
  h
  In
  network, the Green Scales 
  have no official front office 
  where one can strike a deal. 
  Instead, Sashiana contacts 
  likely prospects who can 
  afford to pay or who are in 
  need 
  of 
  her 
  services. 
  Generally, 
  Sashiana 
  favor 
  deals 
  with 
  other 
  O
  thinks 
  might 
  increase 
  House Extaminos’s glory. 
  However, since she has 
  ended her direct contact 
  with 
  the 
  extaminaar 
  in 
  Hlondeth, 
  certain operations conducted by the Scales 
  may in fact be in opposition to extaminaar 
  goals. 
   
    
   
   
   
  . 
  c
  S
  ne
  th
  spy network, usually yuan-ti fullbloods 
  and extaminaar, go to great length 
  to protect their identities, using 
  poison and magic when they are 
  cornered. 
   
   
  Personality:  
   
  standard rule Sashiana uses for the Green 
  Scales spy network. If an agent is captured 
  or killed, it can take months before 
  a new agent is recruited 
  in that particular area. 
  Sashiana has become rather 
  paranoid since she broke from 
  House Extaminos, and looks for plotting 
  underlings and hired assassins under every 
  scale. 
   
   
   
   
   
  
   
  mbers of the Green 
  cales are commoners, the elite spies of the 
  ost:  
  o hire the Green Scales costs 150 per day. 
  k
   
  Logistics:  
   
  All though most of the me
  S
  network are known to wear 
  They also smear their bod
  flower 
  salve 
  on 
  particula
  missions. The elite spies’ ar
  use ossra smoke to boos
  combat and harm their enem
   
  C
   
  T
  Shadow Armor. 
  ies with blood 
  rly 
  dangerous 
  e also known to 
  t themselves in 
  ies. 
  difficulty of the job ta
   
   
   
   
   
  The price may vary, depending on the 
  en. 
  
   
   
   
  , Part I 
  lhoff 
  Olostin’s Hold
  Haze
   
  ghol
  late of Saradush, in Tethyr. I have been 
  gion
  n apprentice scribe with my master Brin O
  uring my travels, I have kept a journal of the places I have visited and things I have seen. As I 
  trieve and edit these journal entries while staying in Candlekeep, I will make them available for 
  ll to read. My journal might resemble the works of Volothamp Geddarm, whose writings I came 
  cross during my studies, but are by no means copies of his excellent work, which has served as a 
  onderful source of inspiration. 
   
  Most of the journal has been written during those moments when I did not have to perform some 
  tasks for my master, or when I wasn’t occupied with the physical part of traveling. Because of 
  this, the entries in the journal may sometimes seem disjointed. Also, the entries might not be 
  published in chronological order; the pages were scattered during an unfortunate incident with an 
  overeager air mephit. 
   
  I hope that for the places I've visited, the journals will provide you as much insight as 
  Volothamp’s journals provided me. 
   
  Till swords meet, 
  Rikos Dughol of Saradush 
   
  * * * * 
   
  Journal of an apprentice scribe by Rikos Dughol of Saradush 
   
  12th Eleint 1371, Year of the Unstrung Harp 
   
  old, muddy and too many 
  mosquitoes; yes, despite all 
  the lofty songs the bards 
  sing 
  about 
  the 
  Silver 
  Marches, the silver is only a 
  thin 
  layer 
  of 
  veneer. 
  Underneath, its still a land of 
  bogs, mud, barbarians, monsters and people 
  who think this is the greatest land in Faerûn… 
  Why could my master not have stayed in 
  Waterdeep? At least that city provided some 
  form of civilization and had enough to offer 
  for a simple apprentice like me, whenever my 
  Master gave me some time off. 
  Instead of staying in the City of Splendors, 
  we are on our way to Everlund and 
  Silverymoon, but the autumn rains have 
  turned the roads into rivers of mud. We won't 
  make Everlund by nightfall; therefore, Master 
  Orgul decided to stop at Olostin's Hold, 
  supposedly the only human settlement of any 
  size in the High Forest. For the remainder of 
  the day, we’re going to stay in the one 
  building that passes for an inn, and it isn’t 
  even located in the village proper. Not that 
  there can be much to do in this small village! 
  I might as well practice my writing skills and 
  see if there is something to tell about this 
  place. 
  By J P 
   
  Well met, fellow scribes and learned scholars! 
   
  Allow me to introduce myself. I am Rikos Du
  traveling across Faerûn, at least across the re
  orth, as a
  , 
  s known as the Western Heartlands and the 
  rgul. 
  N
   
  D
  re
  a
  a
  w
  
   
  Let me start by mentioning the first signs 
  indicating that there is a village on the 
  fringes of the ancient forest. A traveler 
  comes up towards Everlund via the Evermoor 
  Way – a road which begins at
  Gate 
  in 
  Everlund, 
  and 
  wind
  southwest for hundreds of mil
  between the Evermoors and the High Fo
  north of the Dessarin Hills, and offering the 
  ost direct available route to Waterdeep and 
  e High Forest seems to almost literally 
  rdusk’s 
  wainwright’s 
  workshop, 
  and 
  a 
  ding with a 
  g Flagon. 
  roprietor, 
  Uhrieved 
  artshorn, has expanded the old tavern to 
  Flagon is 
  ore of an inn. The building is a solid affair 
  courtyard. A gate provides 
  in times of peril by 
  o large steel reinforced oaken doors.  
  The building itself is ‘L’-shaped and two
  stories high. The short leg of the ‘L’ houses 
  n the ground floor, and the common room 
  e stables and a number of storage rooms. 
   
  n
  m
  e
  d
  functions as a lo
  as I found out, it is better not to mention 
  that when he can overhear… Glyndra and 
  Alyth are the two barmaids. Their broad hips 
  and stout arms hint at barbarian ancestry. 
  ery gentle n ture, they are not 
  rgue with. 
  laming Flagon name and sign comes 
  from a flagon floating overhead, between the 
  heavy beams supporting the shingled roof. 
  The flagon gives off a constant, dancing, 
  magical flame, and was allegedly enspelled in 
   above it, and the reflected flickering 
  glow gives the taproom a cheery, cozy, warm 
  alcove with a couple of gaming tables. 
   
  forest and the hunters living in the area, 
  game is always available; deer, rabbit, 
  mushrooms and potatoes and spiced with 
  herbs and pepper. Served with a piece of 
  fresh bread and a pint of ale, it makes a good 
  meal.  
   
  he drinks served in the Flagon are a 
  election of simple ales and the local wine. 
  For more exclusive drinks as zzar and 
   one doesn’t want to visit Olostin’s 
  Hold. Though the local wine cannot compete 
  with a simple table wine from Tethyr, it is a 
  pleasant drink, and to be honest, I have had 
   the Bridge 
  s 
  its 
  way 
  es, passing 
  Despite their v
  two ladies to a
   
  rest, 
  The F
  m
  the cities of the Sword Coast. About where 
  th
  reach out for the Silverwood on the other 
  side of the road, there one finds a couple of 
  fieldstone-and-log 
  buildings, 
  Nethmoun 
  some wizard’s duel long ago. The proprietor 
  has hammered burnished copper to the 
  ceiling
  A
  couple of small farm houses. Next to 
  Ardusk’s workshop a small dirt road – now an 
  almost impassable stretch of sucking mud – 
  leads up a low hill. Crowning the top of the 
  hill is a squat, two-story buil
  ooden watch tower: The Flamin
  feeling. The floor is flagstone throughout, 
  and generously sprinkled with sawdust. The 
  seats and benches are made of rustic, 
  massive wood. Another peculiarity is an 
  w
   
  The Flaming Flagon tavern is located halfway 
  between the Evermoor Way and Olostin’s 
  Hold. 
  The 
  term 
  “tavern” 
  is 
  slightly 
  misleading. 
  The 
  p
  The food in the Flaming Flagon is plain but 
  hearty. Most travelers settle for a stew or a 
  piece of meat with cooked potatoes and 
  greasy gravy. Due to its proximity to the 
  H
  include several bedrooms and stabling for 
  horses. Technically, The Flaming 
  pheasant… The stew is made from venison, 
  m
  with an enclosed 
  access, and can be closed 
  tw
   
   
  T
  s
  the kitchens and Uhrieved’s private quarters 
  firewine,
  o
  above. The long leg of the building houses 
  th
  The second floor
  houses a large
  bedrooms. Sto
  encircle the re
  the corner of th
  courtyard, stan
   in that part of the building 
  dormitory and four common 
  e walls, two feet thick, 
  ainder of the courtyard. At 
   two walls which enclose the 
  s a wooden platform, which 
  okout and guard post.  
   
  Two cooks and a scullery boy run the 
  kitchen, two barmaids assist Uhrieved in the 
  common room, and in the stables, two stable 
  boys take care of the horses or run any 
  required duties. Uhrieved is a lean hawk-
  nosed man with an unfortunate stutter. And 
  a
  worse wine to drink in Waterdeep.  
   
  As one crests the hill to walk up to the 
  Flagon’s gate, Olostin’s Hold can be seen a 
  short distance away. It stands on the next 
  gently sloping hill, with the trees of the High 
  Forest looming directly behind, obscuring any 
  further view. One of the locals told me that 
  on very clear days, the highest snow-covered 
  peaks of the Greypeak Mountains can be 
  seen. Judging by the weather outside, 
  though, those clear days don’t occur very 
  often... The man might as well have been 
  spinning a tale. The only mountains that I 
  
   
  could see, even during a small break in the 
  rain, are the Lost Peaks towards the south. 
  These peaks seem to loom ominously over 
  the green expanse below, and are no doubt 
  home to dragons, orcs, and other dangers 
  which are so prevalent in this wild corner of 
  Faerûn. 
   
  Judging by the talk in the commons, of late, 
  the folk of Olostin’s Hold have been much 
  troubled 
  by 
  trolls 
  ranging 
  from 
  the 
  Evermoors. These marauding monsters have 
  made the Yartar – Everlund road much less 
  safe than it used to be, and so less traffic 
  passes near Olostin’s Hold than it did in 
  previous years. The talk sent chills down my 
  spine; it was only the two of us on the road 
  traveling towards Everlund. We would never 
  have survived a troll attack. When I brought 
  this to Master Orgul’s attention, he looked up 
  from the scroll he was reading and smiled as 
  if trying to calm a worried child. I shouldn’t 
  sten to that kind of talk; it was only meant 
  ould 
  e, a stone keep sits on the hill, overlooking 
   
  its 
  rotection to as many as six hundred more 
  or who opposed the 
  ighty wizards of long-lost Netheril. Leading 
   some 
  etherese magic in his hold, or there would 
   Vvar. Elthond rebuilt the keep to 
  efend the haphazard village that had grown 
  li
  to scare me. Well, I’ll bring some extra 
  firewood and torches tomorrow; it might 
  scare of the brutes if I can get them lit in 
  time in this pouring cold rain… 
   
  Now, I was trying to describe a little more of 
  the village, but its insignificance in the scope 
  of things made me skip to the forest, the 
  mountains and the dangers of the area. Well, 
  truth be told, it seems there is not much to 
  write about Olostin's Hold. From what I c
  se
  the village and the Evermoor Way. At the 
  lower end of the hill and in the small valley 
  along the dirt road leading toward the 
  Flaming Flagon, several simple houses have 
  been constructed from fieldstone and logs. 
  Most of the roofs are covered by wooden 
  shingles, but a few sport reddish-brown tiles. 
  Perhaps because of the proximity of the 
  majestic forest, all of the roofs seem partially 
  covered in moss. 
   
  The keep protects the small village of about 
  two 
  hundred 
  people, 
  and 
  extends
  p
  farmers, woodcutters, and homesteaders in 
  the immediate area. The hold’s folk are very 
  careful not to anger the powers of the forest; 
  the woodcutters take only dead or dying 
  trees, sometimes ranging far into the forest 
  to find trees safe to bring down. All in all, a 
  simple town, of which numerous versions dot 
  the landscapes of Faerûn. 
   
  Glyndra told me a little about the village’s 
  history. According to an ancient legend1, 
  Olostin was a rogue warri
  m
  a band of like-minded folk, he raided 
  Netherese villages and holds. Allegedly, he 
  had formed a pact with the denizens of the 
  High 
  Forest, 
  who 
  feared 
  further 
  encroachment of the dreaded Anauroch. To 
  shield him from the prying magic of the 
  wizards, the forest powers allowed Olostin to 
  build a keep within the Forest’s zone of 
  influence. 
  Current-day 
  Olostin’s 
  Hold 
  is 
  rumored to be built on the ruins of that long-
  lost hold. I can't help but think that if the 
  story was true, hordes of treasure hunters 
  would have tried to turn over every stone in 
  the vicinity to see if Olostin had buried
  N
  have been more wealthy villagers living on 
  unearthed riches. I guess the villagers just 
  like it better as an old legend, rather than the 
  truth. I wouldn’t appreciate it either, if 
  strangers started to dig around in my 
  backyard. 
   
  Olostin’s Hold, as it is today, is fairly new. 
  About seventy years ago, the ruined keep 
  was occupied by a ranger of the marches, 
  Elthond
  d
  close to the ruins, creating a safe haven on 
  the road to Everlund. It remains so today. 
  Elthond passed away away about thirty years 
  ago, leaving no direct heirs. That was when 
  the Elthondssons from Everlund rose to 
  prominence. 
  They 
  were 
  the 
  closest 
  of 
  Ethond's kin, and they have ruled Olostin’s 
  Hold ever since. 
   
  When the Flaming Flagon was more of a 
  tavern, there was a proper inn in the village. 
  The inn, The Headless Troll, used to be a 
  passable resting place. It was built of wood, 
                                                   
  1 Note: Of course there is some truth behind the history 
  of Olostin’s Hold. Olostin’s Raiders were a constant 
  nuisance to the wizards of Netheril, and had many 
  hideouts, though none on the western side of the High 
  Forest. The foundations of the keep in present day 
  Olostin’s Hold date back to days of ancient Netheril. 
  However, the ruins are not of human origin… 
  
   
  and painted black inside to hide the scorch 
  marks from when the beheaded troll for 
  which the inn was named was burned here. It 
  apparently fled up and down the hallways, 
  pursued by enthusiastic people with torches, 
  causing much damage. Because of the black 
  paint, the place was as dark as the inside of 
   coal sack. Some of the inn’s candles were 
  a
  rendered from sheep fat that was old indeed; 
  as a result, the place usually had a faint stink 
  akin to a slaughterhouse. Two years ago the 
  place was struck by lightning and burned to 
  the ground; apparently it could not sustain 
  more fire damage. It was never rebuilt, and 
  the little business it had transferred to the 
  Flaming Flagon. 
   
  The light of my oil lamp is getting feeble and 
  my eyes feel weary. I guess that it’s time to 
  stop 
  writing 
  and 
  make 
  myself 
  more 
  comfortable on this straw-filled sack, which 
  serves as my bed. Thank the gods I’ve 
  brought a winter blanket in my pack. 
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
  
   
   
   
   
  tains 
  e work of many people, who have put 
  s of lore.  Many thanks to all who contributed and 
  ……………………………. Alaundo 
  ………
  …………………..Alaundo 
   
   
      
  Chris Jameson 
  d page design………………………………………………..Yack Tundra 
  Interior Artwork……………………………………
  Michael Mueller 
   
   
   
   
  ……
  ……………………. Kevin Liss 
  …………………………… Scott Kujawa 
  …………………………….Chris Jameson 
   
   
   
      
  Scott Kujawa 
  Earling’s Spray……………………………………………………………. Tyson Howard 
  Mysteries of the Creator Races (The Batrachi)…………. Gray Richardson 
  Mercenary Companies of the Realms…………………………. Daniel Rosenquist 
  Journal of an Apprentice Scribe…………………………………..J P Hazelhoff 
   
   
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  Volume IV 
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  Compendium Volume IV, containing new Realmslore and further installments of regular articles 
  penned by our master scribes.   This next volume will be a themed issue, focusing on a particular 
  aspect of the Realms. 
   
   
  Volume III of the Candlekeep Compendium con
  much time and effort into penning these article
  helped on this project. 
   
   
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