TEXT:  
  
   
  3!
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
  !Editorial 
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
    Page 3 
   
   The Hammer’s Stroke, Part V II 
   
   
   
   
    Page 4 
   
   Laborers of Toril, Part V 
   
   
   
   
   
    Page 6 
   
   Folk of Faerûn: Shaundakul, Part II 
   
   
   
    Page 9 
   
   Untold Stories, collection VII  
   
   
   
   
    Page 13 
   
   Mysteries of the Creator Races: The Aearee  
   
   
    Page 20 
   
   Towns of the Dragon Coast: The Town of Ilipur  
   
    Page 28 
   
  Unveiling Waterdeep’s Hidden Lords, Part III 
   
   
    Page 34 
   
   Deep Gnolls, Part I 
   
   
   
   
   
   
    Page 42 
   
   Journal of an Apprentice Scribe: Phorvar’s Gap 
   
   
    Page 51 
   
   
   Credits 
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
    Page 55 
   
   
   
  Produced by 
   
  www.candlekeep.com 
  
   
  4!
  !
  !
  !
  elcome to the seventh volume of the Candlekeep Compendium. A collection of 
  the finest Realmslore selected from the shelves of Candlekeep and delivered 
  to us from our wandering scribes, forever seeking to further our knowledge o
  the Realms. 
  f 
   
  Again, our dedicated scribes bring regular and much-loved articles which have become 
  familiar with our readers. The Hammer’s Stroke continues it’s investigations on the various 
  types of dwarven heroes. Laborers of Toril and Untold Stories continue to unearth the 
  mundane, bizarre and intriguing elements of the world in which we live, and our faithful 
  Rikos Dughol enlightens us this time on Phorvar’s Gap in the Journals from an Apprentice 
  Scribe. 
   
  Just when ye thought ye knew all there was to know about Shaundakul, we continue with 
  the second part of this indepth study of the deity.  We also return to the Mysteries of the 
  Creator Races, this time delving into the secrets of a very interesting race – the Aearee.  
  Speaking of mysteries and secrets, we uncover another Lord of Waterdeep, much to my 
  pleasure. 
   
  Last, but by no means least, we have two new scribes joining us in this volume, with new 
  columns to entice all Realmslore scholars. The first such article, entitled Towns of the 
  Dragon Coast, takes a first stop at Ilipur, for an extensive study of this interesting settlement.  
  A little more dangerously, we take an indepth study of a race of the underdark called Deep 
  Gnolls (for one name of which they’re known by).  
   
  I  certainly hope ye enjoy these latest articles and enjoy our new columns to the Compendium.  
  I’ll leave ye to peruse the writings herein, and hope they bring ye many hours of enjoyment. 
   
   
  - Alaundo of Candlekeep 
   
   
   
   
   
   
  
   
  5!
  !
  !
  Part VII 
  By Kevin Liss 
   
   
  dventurers in the Realms 
  are given many choices in 
  the 
  nature 
  of 
  their 
  development.  Dwarves are 
  given 
  many 
  options, 
  particularly 
  with 
  Prestige 
  Classes. 
   
  Some 
  are 
  of 
  obvious 
  dwarven 
  design, 
  such 
  as 
  the 
  Hammer of Moradin or the Runecaster. Other 
  Prestige Classes, from various sourcebooks, 
  may also be appropriate for dwarves.  To 
  take a break from examining the daily 
  activities 
  of 
  dwarven 
  life 
  presented 
  in 
  previous 
  volumes 
  of 
  the 
  Candlekeep 
  Compendium, we will explore the Realms-
  specific Prestige Classes that the common 
  dwarf may adopt while earning their place in 
  the ranks of heroes – or villains. Not every 
  Prestige Class will be discussed, but the 
  dwarven-specific ones and those of 
  notable interest will be covered.  
   
  This article continues from The Candlekeep 
  Compendium Volume VI. 
   
   
  Giant-killer 
   
  Dwarves and giant-killers are a 
  natural pairing of heredity and 
  vicinity.  The dwarven affinity 
  for 
  rocky 
  environments, 
  coupled 
  with 
  their 
  natural 
  enmity for most giants, makes 
  the giant-killer an ideal prestige 
  class for some dwarves.  In the 
  Silver Marches and the North, 
  dwarven 
  halls 
  and 
  citadels 
  usually 
  contain 
  a 
  few 
  seasoned giant-killers, to keep 
  the 
  lands 
  surrounding 
  the 
  strongholds free of potential giant 
  problems.  Other communities will 
  train and keep giant-killers based on 
  their need. 
  Dwarven giant-killers are traditionally home-
  based heroes of the Stout Folk.  Their halls 
  are their bases, and the reason for their 
  need. 
   
  Recent 
  giant-killers 
  are 
  more 
  proactive, seeking to conquer and reclaim 
  territory claimed by some giant clan or 
  another.  Revenge for those lost drives some 
  giant-killers, but most use their abilities to 
  benefit any community of dwarves that may 
  be nearby. 
   
  Most dwarven giant-killers are bred for the 
  job.  Unlike many of their brethren, they are 
  trained for this one purpose.  This allows for 
  a quick advancement into the ranks of giant-
  killers, by meeting the requirements earlier, 
  rather than having to advance levels to 
  qualify.  This means that many giant-killer 
  dwarves can, and often do, begin their 
  training as fighters 
  first.  Part of this is 
  because 
  of 
  the 
  low 
  numbers of rangers or barbarians in 
  dwarven 
  society, 
  although 
  another contributing factor is 
  that most successful giant-
  killers are often tougher, 
  specifically-trained 
  fighters.  This does 
  not 
  preclude 
  other 
  classes from attaining 
  the 
  honor 
  of 
  becoming 
  a 
  giant-
  killer; it is just the 
  typical 
  progression 
  for dwarves. 
   
   
  
   
  6!
  Hordebreaker 
   
  Hordes of swarming humanoids spell doom 
  for those unfortunate enough to be caught 
  before them. To counter the advancing horde 
  and 
  fight 
  the 
  onslaught 
  of 
  destructive 
  creatures, 
  many 
  races 
  train 
  and 
  keep 
  hordebreakers at hand.  Dwarves are one of 
  the 
  races 
  that 
  successfully 
  utilize the hordebreaker 
  as 
  a 
  first-line 
  defense.  
  Guerilla groups of dwarven 
  hordebreaker warriors whittle 
  away 
  at 
  the 
  mass 
  of 
  creatures 
  rampaging 
  through their lands. 
  Columns of dwarves 
  bolster 
  their 
  defenses 
  with 
  strategically 
  placed 
  hordebreaker 
  units, 
  to 
  break 
  the 
  advancing 
  waves 
  of 
  enemies.  Strategic use 
  of the hordebreakers 
  can 
  allow 
  a 
  community a fighting 
  chance in the face of 
  seemingly impossible 
  odds.  
   
  Hordebreaker 
  dwarves 
  are 
  most 
  often 
  fighters.  Their training bolsters their ability 
  to withstand the humanoid hordes, while 
  maintaining 
  typical 
  dwarven 
  fighting 
  techniques.  Heavily armored warriors wait 
  for the fight to come to them, allowing their 
  training 
  and 
  discipline 
  to 
  bolster 
  their 
  effectiveness against greater odds.  Some 
  dwarven rangers and barbarians take the 
  fight to the horde with guerilla attacks and 
  ambushes, to weaken and dishearten a horde 
  even before they meet the main force of the 
  dwarves.  They do this by focusing on small 
  groups 
  of 
  stragglers, 
  or 
  through 
  strategic use of the terrain. Small 
  groups of hordebreakers damage the 
  front lines of a horde before a 
  strategic withdrawal to another 
  ambush site, always taking 
  advantage 
  of 
  traditional 
  dwarven 
  strengths. 
   
  If 
  pressed, small numbers of 
  dwarven hordebreakers can 
  successfully defend key areas 
  of a dwarven hall against 
  more numerous groups.   
   
  Innovative 
  hordes 
  can 
  overcome the advantages of 
  dwarven 
  hordebreakers 
  through the use of elite units 
  or 
  special 
  champions.  
  Unfortunately, many horde 
  leaders find that it is often 
  impossible 
  to 
  use 
  these 
  special forces before serious damage is done 
  to their followers. 
   
  To be continued… 
   
   
  !
  !
   
  
   
  7!
  !
  !
   
  Part V 
  By Scott Kujawa 
  !
  First Reader, here is the fifth scroll of the project that you asked me to scribe for the records of 
  Candlekeep. 
   
  As I said in my other scrolls, some of this lore might or might not be true, and I had to distill the 
  details, lest they fill a whole tome. Besides, some of the information given to me was to be kept 
  secret, and I gave my word as a follower of the Binder. As usual, 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 
   
  +!+!+!+!
   
  Nennira (True Neutral, Female Rock Gnome, 
  Expert 4/Cleric 6, Gond) 
   
  Growing up among the humans of Lantan, 
  Nennira was always interested in devices and 
  puzzles. When she had learned enough, she 
  left Lantan, settling in the Adventurers 
  Quarter of Waterdeep. With the help of some 
  wealthy sponsors, she opened a shop where 
  she makes and sells children’s toys. She 
  makes balls of curved wood, hammer-peg 
  games, 
  building 
  blocks, 
  spinning 
  tops, 
  gliders, bows and arrows, and other puzzle-
  like toys. The upper floor of her shop is her 
  home; it contains a bath, kitchen, and 
  sleeping chamber. Another room has been 
  set aside for use as a workshop and shrine to 
  Gond. 
   
  Ardyn “the Pretty” (Chaotic Good, Male 
  Calishite 
  Human, 
  Expert 
  6, 
  Lliira 
  and 
  Waukeen) 
   
  This wealthy Calishite sends his fleshpaints to 
  the western parts of Faerûn through the 
  market and port of Sheirtalar, in Lapaliiya. 
  Due to the demands of his business, Ardyn 
  recently took on another apprentice. He 
  wouldn’t discuss his apprentices with me; all 
  I could learn is that both of them are female 
  humans of Tashalan blood. They help him 
  make his cosmetics, and fill the orders that 
  are going to be shipped to other major ports. 
    
  A follower of Lliira and Waukeen, Ardyn 
  dresses 
  in 
  well-made 
  red 
  and 
  orange 
  clothing. A gold belt, showing his dedication 
  to the coin goddess, is wrapped around his 
  waist. Ardyn is short for a Calishite, and 
  many believe that he is really a woman, since 
  he is effeminate and possesses feminine 
  facial and body features. His light brown hair 
  is long, almost past his buttocks, helping 
  further his feminine image. 
   
  Ynzaneth (Neutral Good, Male Lizardman, 
  Expert 1, Savras) 
   
  This lizard man is an apprentice maker of the 
  numerology tiles and talis cards that are 
  made in Tashelar. Erldian, an older human 
  male, raised Ynzaneth, and now serves as his 
  mentor. Erldian raised Ynzaneth from an egg, 
  so the lizard man isn’t like the others of his 
  race. Erldian and Ynzareth care deeply for 
  each other, acting as father and son. Since 
  Erldian is a follower of Savras, he has taught 
  Ynzaneth the faith of the divination deity. 
  The two of them worship together in a shrine 
  in their home. 
   
   
   
  
   
  8!
  Althyril (Lawful Good, Female Lightfoot 
  Halfling, Expert 5, Cyrrollalee and Yondalla) 
   
  This smaller-than-average halfling lives in 
  Luiren, where she helps craft the bows, 
  arrows, slings, and sling stones that the 
  halflings of that nation use. Many of the 
  warsling snipers of Luiren have used her 
  weapons and ammunition over the years, or 
  so she tells me. She has a separate shop, 
  next to her home, where she spends the 
  majority of her time. The exception is when 
  she is being cooked for and waited on by 
  Elble and Mylober, her two lightfoot halfling 
  consorts. Since I couldn’t meet Mylober, I 
  was told that he spends most of his days 
  patrolling and protecting Luiren. 
   
  Chynna (Neutral Good, Female Damaran 
  Human, 
  Commoner 
  3/Favored 
  Soul 
  1, 
  Lathander) 
   
  Since leaving Phlan during the Time of 
  Troubles, Chynna has resided in the temple 
  of Lathander in Shadowdale. She looks like a 
  typical Damaran, save for her long, golden-
  red hair, a legacy of Lathander’s touch. The 
  clergy allow her to stay in the temple 
  because she spends her time making candles 
  for the church and for the people of the Dale. 
  She tells me that most of the clergy don’t 
  realize that she has a deeper connection to 
  the Morninglord; he has granted her some 
  divine powers and spells, because she is 
  strong in her faith and prayers.  
   
  Kalg (Lawful Neutral, Male Shield Dwarf, 
  Expert 8, Dumathoin) 
   
  Most of the time, Kalg can be found mining in 
  the dwarven quarter of Mirabar. However, 
  when I sat down and talked with him, he told 
  me that he also has the skills of a gemcutter 
  and jeweler. When he is drinking at some of 
  the dwarven taverns, he is accompanied by 
  Irnene, 
  his 
  female 
  shield 
  dwarven 
  companion.  
   
  Raurus (Neutral Good, Male Chondathan 
  Human, Commoner 1, Lathander) 
   
  Raurus is a young man living in Deadsnows, 
  working as a rothé and cattle herder. He’s 
  recently become very busy, due to the influx 
  of people seeking the gold discovered in the 
  Nether Mountains. When he isn’t spending his 
  days watching over the cattle, he can be 
  found with the clergy of Lathander. He is 
  deeply interested in the Morninglord, and 
  someday might join the faithful as a divine 
  follower. 
   
  The youngest member of a family of six, 
  Raurus was the only one to survive a raid by 
  a band of Prince Urgeth’s orcs. (See Silver 
  Marches, the “Blood and Gold” adventure.) 
   
  Hitsuo (Male Shou Human, Expert 12, 
  Celestial Bureaucracy) 
   
  Hitsuo is one of the builders of spelljamming 
  dragon ships in the city of Chunming, in Shou 
  Lung. Ever since he managed, as a youth, to 
  sneak onto one of the dragonships, he has 
  been interested in the ships that sail off of 
  the planet and through the Sea of Night. 
  Hitsuo spent some time as a sailor on a few 
  different spelljammers, before learning that 
  he had the skills to actually build the ships. 
  Now he enjoys his time in Chunming, and the 
  government of Shou Lung pays for his home 
  and his work. He looks like a typical Shou, 
  but is heavily scarred from having fought in 
  many battles. 
   
  Ilonoztli (Lawful Neutral, Female Maztican 
  Human, Commoner 4, Plutoq) 
   
  Ilonoztli 
  is 
  a 
  basket-weaver 
  with 
  light 
  reddish-brown skin, living in a hut near New 
  Waterdeep. She uses the different woods of 
  her land to make baskets of various sizes. 
  She has slowly been learning to weave 
  baskets from imported woods from the 
  distant trees of Faerûn, but for now, she 
  mostly stays with what she knows best. 
  When 
  she 
  manages 
  to 
  collect 
  enough 
  turquoise, she makes the stones into pieces 
  of jewelry, or pieces that are used for body 
  modification. 
   
  Hakeel (Chaotic Neutral, Male Zakharan 
  Human, Expert 3, Haku and Selan) 
   
  Hakeel spends most of his time in the Bazaar 
  of Huzuz, dancing for coins and wealth. His 
  tall but thin body is cloaked with the sand of 
  this desert nation. Hakeel has learned a type 
  of dance that looks like a sandstorm; the 
  sand whirls around him and radiates outward 
  
   
  9!
  as he moves. His long dark hair seems to 
  float about him as he dances; otherwise, it 
  covers his back and reaches his knees. 
  Covering his body is a robe of light brown 
  cloth, enchanted to keep the heat away from 
  his body, but light enough to not restrict his 
  dancing. 
   
  Many know Hakeel as a lover of men and 
  women. He is known to be skilled in giving 
  massages, and many seek him for his 
  knowledge in various relaxation techniques. 
  !
  !
  !
   
   
   
  
   
  :!
  !
  !
  Shaundakul, Part II 
  By Doug Raas 
   
  * * * * 
  !
  I have come to realize that in every walk of life, from the commoner to nobility, we are judged not 
  only by our actions and inactions, but also by the friends we keep and the enemies we make. The 
  gods themselves are no different. Some are loved by most, and some are feared by most. Some 
  are called on by nearly everyone, on a near-daily basis, while others are only in the background of 
  our thoughts. Some are well-known, while others are more of a mystery. I wonder, is it the nature 
  of the gods to be more like the mortals who worship them – or more like mortals to take after the 
  divine they worship? 
   
  From the journals of Dathal Rhain 
  20 Hammer, Year of Wild Magic 
   
   
  odly ambitions and plans 
  may seem complicated, at 
  times. Unknown thoughts of 
  the 
  divine 
  may 
  confuse 
  mortals; but some aspects 
  of the divine thoughts are 
  largely 
  known, 
  from 
  watching their actions and the actions of 
  their faithful over the years. Like mortals, 
  gods develop friendships, and loves, as well 
  as enemies and hatreds.  
   
  Shaundakul 
  has 
  many 
  friends 
  in 
  the 
  Faerûnian 
  pantheon, 
  but 
  few 
  strong 
  relationships. He has few enemies, although 
  those that he has are more than enough for a 
  god in his position. His relationships with the 
  other members of the pantheon may change 
  in 
  the 
  future; 
  several 
  of 
  Shaundakul’s 
  portfolios overlap those of other deities, 
  creating potential conflict. 
   
  The following passages attempt to distill the 
  most important of these associations, and 
  explain 
  the 
  ‘how’ 
  and 
  ‘why’ 
  of 
  their 
  relationship. The interactions of Shaundakul’s 
  clergy with the clergy of these various faiths 
  are also explored. 
   
   
  The Gentle Flutter of Friendship 
   
  Akadi: Though Akadi and Shaundakul share 
  ties to the wind and air,  it may be surprising 
  that there is no direct conflict between them. 
  Their relationship can best be described as 
  cordial and friendly. While Akadi deals mainly 
  with the air itself, and creatures of the air, 
  Shaundakul is more concerned with how air 
  relates to travel (particularly by sea), and its 
  effects on land-based caravans. As one of the 
  elemental gods, Akadi is somewhat aloof 
  from the affairs of mortals and other deities.  
   
  Shaundakul and Akadi became acquainted 
  not 
  long 
  after 
  Shaundakul's 
  arrival 
  on 
  Faerûn. There may have initially been some 
  tension, but it was quickly realized that while 
  Shaundakul was associated with the air, it 
  was more of a means to an end, not the 
  source of his veneration. On the rare 
  occasions that priests of these two faiths 
  meet, they are almost always neutral to each 
  other. Assistance is often granted when 
  asked for, and certainly no ill will lies 
  between them. 
   
  Gwaeron Windstrom: Gwaeron is very 
  closely associated with rangers, and the 
  areas of the North. He and Shaundakul have 
  
   
  21!
  a friendly relationship, as priests of both 
  deities traverse long-forgotten trails, though 
  for 
  different 
  purposes. 
  Gwaeron 
  serves 
  Mielikki, 
  and 
  like 
  her, 
  is 
  allied 
  with 
  Shaundakul. However, the two deities seldom 
  come into contact with each other, despite 
  both being venerated more in the North than 
  elsewhere. Priests of both deities are friendly 
  with each other, and will aid each other when 
  possible.  
   
  Lurue: It may seem that Lurue, as a servant 
  of 
   
  Mielikki, 
  would 
  be 
  a 
  friend 
  of 
  Shaundakul’s by association. However, Lurue 
  and her followers are sometimes taken with 
  wanderlust, and it is this random exploration 
  that interests Shaundakul, as it is much like 
  the Windride itself.  
   
  Lurue is also said by some to be the daughter 
  of Selûne, and that further validates their 
  friendship. These two deities rarely interact, 
  and as both have small followings, their 
  priests seldom encounter each other. When 
  this does happen, it is always peaceful and 
  friendly. 
   
  Mielikki: Mielikki, another deity venerated 
  with some degree of exclusivity in the North, 
  is quite friendly with Shaundakul. Mielikki 
  may be one of the few deities who was 
  constantly aware of Shaundakul’s presence in 
  the Realms, even during the lowest points of 
  his worship.  
   
  Both of them dwelled on Faerûn before the 
  Time of Troubles, and were less directly 
  affected when the other gods were thrown 
  down.  
   
  Mielikki 
  has 
  observed 
  the 
  troubles 
  Shaundakul has faced due to the scheming of 
  Beshaba. This, coupled with Beshaba’s use of 
  antlers 
  as 
  her 
  symbol, 
  has 
  increased 
  Mielikki’s dislike of the Maid of Misfortune, 
  and brought her and Shaundakul closer. 
  While their friendship is true, and more than 
  the 
  cordial 
  relationship 
  held 
  between 
  Shaundakul and Akadi, it is not romantic in 
  any way. Both deities have their own ongoing 
  issues, which some would say are greater 
  than they can reasonably handle. Both 
  deities are therefore somewhat hesitant to 
  involve themselves too closely, for fear of 
  raising the ire of each other’s enemies, 
  bringing more hardship for themselves and 
  their followers. Neither deity, however, would 
  refuse to aid the other if asked, nor would 
  their respective priests. 
   
  Mystra: Mystra, as goddess of magic, has 
  many allies and enemies amongst the gods. 
  Recently, Shaundakul’s acquisition of the 
  portfolio of portals has caused the two deities 
  to become even closer. Some were very 
  surprised at the fact that Shaundakul gained 
  this portfolio, which seems to be a distinct 
  subset of magic that would normally be the 
  province of Mystra. Some sages speculate 
  that Mystra herself did not necessarily plan 
  this, but that she was not opposed to the 
  change. Since it helped spread magical 
  influence further afield than it had been, 
  Mystra 
  saw 
  this 
  as 
  strengthening 
  the 
  durability of magic in general.  
   
  The two deities are now in a working 
  relationship, and Mystra seems pleased with 
  how Shaundakul has handled the portfolio. 
  Due to both deities’ opposition to Shar, it 
  seems likely that they will be working closely 
  together in the future. 
   
  Priests of both deities are friendly with each 
  other, and are willing to assist each other as 
  necessary. While not as friendly as relations 
  are with Tymora, they are quite strong, and 
  only likely to strengthen over time. 
   
  Nobanion: Due to the relationship both have 
  with 
  Mielikki, 
  the 
  association 
  between 
  Nobanion and Shaundakul is similar to being 
  “a friend of a friend”. The two deities’ 
  relations are cordial, but neutral. Aid will be 
  given and expected between their priests, 
  although in either case, it would be noted 
  that 
  compensation, 
  or 
  the 
  offering 
  of 
  assistance, is generally expected in return. 
  The two deities are nearly at moral odds in 
  their outlook, though both share a respect of 
  things natural. It is likely that if relations 
  between either deity and Mielikki ever 
  became strained, the relationship between 
  Nobanion and Shaundakul would probably 
  dissolve completely. If this were to happen, 
  there would be little change, as their 
  portfolios, as well as their general spheres of 
  influence across Faerûn, have little overlap. 
   
  
   
  22!
  Selûne: Selûne and Shaundakul have a 
  relationship much like siblings might have. 
  They respect each other, but still have minor 
  disagreements from time to time. The 
  greatest shared element of their relationship 
  is their mutual opposition of Shar. Shar, who 
  continually 
  attempts 
  to 
  undermine 
  the 
  aspects of moonlight for her own dark 
  purposes, 
  also 
  comes 
  at 
  odds 
  with 
  Shaundakul for his continued exploration, 
  and the spreading of the knowledge of his 
  discoveries.  
   
  Selûne and Shaundakul’s priests are friendly 
  towards one another, and often offer help in 
  their mutual travels. The two deities both 
  have a fondness for wandering and joyful 
  exploration. On more than a few occasions, 
  Selûne has joined either Shaundakul himself, 
  or one of his priests during the Windride, 
  enjoying the winds and the breezes, and the 
  opportunity to share the wonder of random 
  wandering.  
   
  Priests of Selûne are aware of the tenets of 
  Shaundakul’s faith, and are always somewhat 
  more observant right around the Windride, as 
  priests 
  of 
  Shaundakul 
  may 
  become 
  disoriented after their journey, or even be in 
  some danger from hostile forces. Because of 
  this attentiveness, Shaundakul is thankful -- 
  and his priests are encouraged to offer 
  assistance and help priests of Selûne in 
  thanks for this attentiveness. 
   
  Shevarash: An unlikely alliance – more of an 
  understanding – exists between these two 
  gods. Shaundakul is not closely affiliated with 
  any of the Seldarine, but he is not opposed 
  to working with them when the need arises. 
  The mutual assistance these two gods enjoy 
  is one primarily spurred by the desire of both 
  to reclaim Myth Drannor. Relations between 
  the clergy of both gods are neutral, but 
  lately, somewhat strained, as rumors have 
  begun to spread of Shevarash’s involvement 
  with Shar, one of Shaundakul’s enemies. The 
  priests of Shaundakul are more and more 
  wary among followers of Shevarash, though 
  the priests of Shevarash don’t seem to notice 
  this caution. Perhaps the fact that neither 
  deity has a large following helps in this. If 
  Myth Drannor was ever either totally lost, or 
  successfully reclaimed, then the relations 
  between these gods would be strained even 
  further, towards indifference, or possibly 
  even more open disinterest or distrust, 
  especially if Shevarash’s association with 
  Shar continues. 
   
  Tymora: Tymora is probably the closest 
  deific ally Shaundakul has at the moment. 
  Many years ago, the two deities were 
  romantically involved, but this was not a 
  long-lived affair. Their relationship has been 
  a long one; Shaundakul knew Tyche before 
  the Dawn Cataclysm.  
   
  Historically, Tymora has been a favorite of 
  adventurers, giving them that “lucky edge” 
  that they need to survive. Lately, Shaundakul 
  has begun attracting some of these same 
  adventurers, who venerate him for his 
  exploration aspect. Being that the two deities 
  are so close, Tymora is not concerned with 
  this minor encroaching of some of her 
  followers. Most of the adventuring priests of 
  Tymora are still in place; this minor shift 
  mainly affects the lay-worshippers, looking 
  for guidance in their explorations. Priests of 
  both Tymora and Shaundakul are both on 
  very friendly terms, and it is not unknown for 
  them to work together as long as their 
  respective aims are being met. Aid is 
  generally given without question in either 
  direction, with little expectation of returned 
  favors, or compensation. Simply knowing 
  that the same aid would be given in return is 
  enough. 
   
  Waukeen: Relations between Shaundakul 
  and Waukeen have been interesting, to say 
  the least. Before the Time of Troubles, there 
  were few interactions between the two 
  deities. 
  Traders 
  venerated 
  both 
  deities; 
  Waukeen for their mercantile interests, and 
  Shaundakul 
  for 
  the 
  transportation 
  of 
  mercantile 
  goods. 
  During 
  the 
  Time 
  of 
  Troubles, an unfortunate series of events led 
  to Waukeen’s imprisonment in the Abyss by 
  Graz’zt. During this time, and for over a 
  decade afterward, Waukeen’s portfolio was 
  held in trust by Lliira. However, many priests 
  of Waukeen did not convert to Lliira, but 
  rather to Shaundakul. He also saw an 
  upswing in veneration from caravaneers, who 
  had to choose between Lliira working in 
  Waukeen’s stead, or Shaundakul.  
   
  
   
  23!
  After Waukeen’s recent rescue, nearly all of 
  her priests and lay-worshippers that had 
  converted Lliira in the interim returned to 
  Waukeen. (Chroniclers Note: While exact 
  numbers would be impossible to determine, it 
  seems that upwards of 95% returned to 
  Waukeen from Lliira. – D.R.) However, a 
  smaller percentage of those who had moved 
  to 
  Shaundakul 
  returned 
  to 
  Waukeen. 
  (Chroniclers Note: At best guess, only about 
  75% of those who sought solace with 
  Shaundakul have returned to Waukeen. – 
  D.R.)  
   
  At the present time, both deities are on good 
  terms, if a little cautious. Waukeen is 
  certainly thankful for Shaundakul and Lliira 
  looking after her followers while she was 
  imprisoned, but is somewhat disappointed at 
  the 
  loss 
  of 
  some 
  of 
  her 
  followers. 
  Shaundakul’s 
  and 
  Waukeen’s 
  portfolios 
  complement each other well; because of this, 
  many people often venerate both deities.  
   
  During the Time of Troubles, many of 
  Waukeen’s temples were either left unused 
  or converted for use by priests of Lliira, 
  especially in areas where there was no pre-
  existing temple to Lliira. However, in two 
  instances, temples of Waukeen were instead 
  converted 
  for 
  use 
  by 
  the 
  faithful 
  of 
  Shaundakul. One was the Tower of Gold in 
  Iriaebor, and the other was the Temple of the 
  Lady of Coins in Phent. 
   
   
  The Blowing Fury of Opposition 
   
  Beshaba: Beshaba and Shaundakul have 
  been at odds with each other for nearly as 
  long as Beshaba has been in existence. 
  Tymora’s early dalliance with Shaundakul, as 
  well as his spurning of her own advances, 
  vexed Beshaba to no end. To this day, she 
  continues to meddle in his affairs. This 
  continued opposition is part of why Tymora 
  and Shaundakul remain close. 
  One of the most severe aspects of this is that 
  Shaundakul’s name has been misused by 
  Beshaba in the desert of Anauroch, causing 
  the Bedine to become not only wary, but 
  openly 
  hostile 
  to 
  those 
  they 
  see 
  as 
  worshipping a cruel, evil deity. Shaundakul 
  has recently started a campaign to try to 
  clear his name among the Bedine. This effort 
  is likely to be met with opposition from 
  Beshaba, who undoubtedly will consider it 
  another opportunity to play with him, causing 
  as much misfortune in the process as 
  possible.  
   
  Priests of Beshaba generally will try to harass 
  and attack priests of Shaundakul when they 
  meet. Priests of Shaundakul will return this 
  open hostility when needed, but will tend to 
  observe more if they themselves have gone 
  undetected. 
   
  Shar: Shar is a deity of darkness and loss. 
  Shaundakul and Shar oppose each other due 
  to her love of secrecy and his desire to reveal 
  what 
  is 
  hidden 
  and 
  newly 
  discovered. 
  Historically, 
  neither 
  deity 
  has 
  been 
  particularly hostile to the other, but they 
  have reasons to be at odds. Shar is opposed 
  to Selûne, and more recently, Mystra, both of 
  whom are allies of Shaundakul. Shaundakul’s 
  recent acquisition of portals as a portfolio 
  also has brought the attention of Shar. 
  Shaundakul now works more closely with 
  Mystra, and thus has come more to the 
  forefront of Shar’s observations.  
   
  Priests of Shar generally try and observe 
  priests of Shaundakul to determine what they 
  are up to before taking any overt actions. 
  More often that not, the priests of Shar do 
  not reveal themselves in these situations. If 
  an encounter occurs, however, open hostility 
  is almost certain. 
   
   
  
   
  24!
  !
  !
  Collection VII 
  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!
   
  Thelseus 
  Gandivver’s 
  greatest 
  joke 
  has 
  outlived the mage by several centuries. 
   
  Thelseus Gandivver was a powerful half-
  elven mage who dwelt in Myth Drannor at 
  the time of its fall. A quiet but friendly man, 
  Thelseus was well-known for his eccentric 
  and joking nature. He often fashioned quirky 
  and unusual magical items, either on a whim 
  or for commission.  
   
  One of his closest friends was a fellow wizard 
  named Sanger Telmiri. Sanger was a wizard 
  of moderate skill. His true passion lay not in 
  magic, but in artwork. He was a talented 
  sculptor, producing many statues and friezes, 
  some of which survive in Myth Drannor to 
  this very day. Sanger is considered by many 
  scholars to have been an influence on 
  Cledwyll, since both artists had a decided 
  preference 
  for 
  sculptures 
  of 
  attractive 
  women, 
  often 
  scantily 
  clad 
  and 
  quite 
  curvaceous.  
   
  One of Sanger’s favorite sculptures was a 
  statuette 
  he 
  called 
  The 
  Sorceress 
  Triumphant. Carved from a pale blue stone, 
  the statuette depicts a buxom half-elven 
  spellcaster, holding a scepter above her head 
  with both hands. The expression on her 
  upturned face is one of exultation and joy. 
  Many small pouches dangle from the belt 
  encircling her slender waist. Her clothing is 
  tattered, apparently damaged in a spell-duel, 
  though it would have been rather revealing 
  even if it had remained intact. The beautiful 
  half-elf’s hair is thick and curly, and hangs 
  down nearly to her knees.  
   
  As a joke, Thelseus cast a unique spell on the 
  statuette. Knowing that Sanger was very 
  fond of the statuette and liked to keep it near 
  him, Thelseus cast a spell on it that would 
  make it slip out of Sanger’s hands, float 
  several feet away, and then slowly settle to 
  the ground. As soon as Sanger touched the 
  statuette again, it would slip out of his grasp, 
  repeating the process. 
   
  Both wizards were very amused by the 
  prank. Before the magic could be reversed, 
  however, Myth Drannor came under attack 
  from the Army of Darkness. The wizards 
  dismissed the prank as unimportant, instead 
  marshalling their power to aid in the City of 
  Song’s defense. 
   
  Sanger was slain in the early days of the 
  Weeping War. Thelseus, on the other hand, 
  was one of the last of the defenders to leave 
  the 
  city. 
  He 
  eventually 
  settled 
  in 
  Silverymoon, spending the rest of his days 
  using his magic to amuse himself and others.  
   
  The Sorceress Triumphant remained intact in 
  the ruins of Sanger’s home in Myth Drannor. 
  After centuries of exposure to the slowly 
  warping fields of magic within the mythal, 
  Thelseus’s spell became twisted, producing a 
  wholly different effect that couldn’t be 
  experienced within the mythal. 
   
  Last year, a group of Cormyrian adventurers 
  found the statuette. They carried it back to 
  Suzail with them, where, after a few months, 
  the warped enchantment on the statuette 
  became apparent. The altered magic did not 
  manifest immediately; had that happened, 
  The Sorceress Triumphant would likely be 
  lost in the wilderness.  
   
  
   
  25!
  The enchantments on the statuette now 
  cause it to randomly teleport itself to a new 
  location, 
  once 
  a 
  day. 
  The 
  Sorceress 
  Triumphant sometimes travels just a few 
  feet, other times it teleports itself a mile or 
  more 
  away. 
  Perhaps 
  because 
  of 
  some 
  lingering effect of Thelseus’s original spell, 
  the statuette seems to confine itself to city 
  limits and easily found locations. 
   
  More than one noble collector wants the 
  statuette, since artwork by Sanger Telmiri is 
  only slightly more common than that of his 
  successor, Cledwyll. The PCs are hired to find 
  The Sorceress Triumphant, so that it can 
  become the centerpiece of a nobleman’s 
  collection. 
   
  Adventure Hook II!
   
  Dark eyes are watching Jalyk Bluefeather. 
   
  A young tiefling with intense, glowing green 
  eyes, Jalyk Bluefeather presented himself to 
  the temple of Torm two years ago, hoping to 
  enter the service of the True as a paladin. 
  Though some within the church were wary of 
  Jalyk’s obviously infernal heritage, they could 
  find no fault with the hopeful young man. He 
  passed every test that could be given, and 
  succeeded at every challenge set before him. 
  His dedication and sense of duty was such 
  that Jalyk was an inspiration to his fellow 
  aspirants. 
   
  Just three months ago, Jalyk was accepted 
  into Torm’s service. His glowing eyes now 
  shining 
  with 
  zeal, 
  Jalyk 
  immediately 
  volunteered 
  for 
  whatever 
  mission 
  his 
  superiors wanted him to take. To further 
  accentuate his devotion to duty, the tiefling 
  was temporarily assigned to the city watch. 
   
  His time among the watch was well-spent. He 
  dedicated himself to being as useful as 
  possible, 
  so 
  much 
  so 
  that 
  the 
  watch 
  commander asked Jalyk if he wanted to join 
  the watch on a permanent basis. Jalyk 
  declined, but he continued to offer exemplary 
  service to the city. 
   
  However, another member of the church, 
  Nalgrym of Scornubel, has noticed that Jalyk 
  is 
  often 
  watched 
  by 
  shadowy 
  figures. 
  Nalgrym was a thief before entering Torm’s 
  service, so he is often used by his superiors 
  to secretly observe prospective or new 
  church members. The former thief has noted 
  that at least one cloaked figure can usually 
  be found trailing Jalyk; sometimes the 
  tiefling is followed by as many as three other 
  individuals. Worse still, one of the skulkers, 
  Connel Shatterhand, is known to be a devout 
  follower of Bane. 
   
  Jalyk is being sent out of town on a mission, 
  and the church elders fear that his shadowy 
  watchers may attempt to capture the young 
  paladin for some nefarious purpose. They 
  want the PCs to follow Jalyk on his mission, 
  and to ensure that he is allowed to carry out 
  his assigned tasks. 
   
   
  Adventure Hook!III!
   
  Rune Copperbold has been betrayed. 
   
  Tamarune “Rune” Copperbold is a rock 
  gnome with an unusual profession: he 
  specializes in the capture and delivery of live 
  exotic animals. A skilled sorcerer, Rune has 
  spent 
  years 
  hunting 
  monsters, 
  and 
  is 
  something of an expert on many kinds of 
  animals. He often boasts that he can capture 
  any beast found on Faerûn, and more than a 
  few from other locales. He does, however, 
  refuse to hunt dragons, citing a promise he 
  made to one such creature in the Great Dale.  
   
  Rune is usually selective about his clientele, 
  but a recent run of bad luck has left him 
  nearly destitute. Otherwise, he would have 
  refused the commission offered to him by the 
  wizard Carlyn Talpok. Rune suspected that 
  Carlyn was secretly a Red Wizard, but he had 
  no way of knowing for certain. Nearly broke 
  and needing the money badly, Rune had no 
  choice but to accept Carlyn’s commission. 
   
  About a week ago, Rune returned to 
  Saerloon, with his prey securely imprisoned 
  in a magical cage. He delivered the fearsome 
  beast to Carlyn, accepted his money, and 
  made plans to leave Saerloon behind. He 
  secreted the larger portion of his payment in 
  a hidden cache, then made preparations for a 
  journey to Waterdeep. Before he could leave 
  the city, he was beset by a well-armed group 
  
   
  26!
  of thieves. The thugs severely beat Rune, 
  burying him under trash in an alley and 
  leaving him to die.  
   
  It was only through the use of some 
  contingency magic that Rune didn’t die from 
  his grievous wounds. His preservative magics 
  healed him enough to get to the Tower of 
  Mysteries, where a prior arrangement with 
  the priests of Mystra paid for him to be 
  restored to full health. 
   
  Days later, Carlyn Talpok disappeared from 
  the city. The beast he’d hired Rune to 
  capture 
  was 
  set 
  loose, 
  now 
  magically 
  enhanced. Among the creature’s other new-
  found abilities, it now has the ability to 
  teleport itself out of danger, and it seems 
  more intelligent than before. The beast has 
  adopted a new hunting pattern: it silently 
  stalks its victims before ferociously attacking. 
  By the time aid can be summoned, the 
  victims are dead and the creature has 
  teleported itself back to its hiding place. 
   
  Feeling 
  partially 
  responsible 
  for 
  what 
  happened, and wanting to preserve his 
  reputation, Rune hires the PCs to help him 
  slay the beast. Depending on how generous 
  the DM is, the city guard and/or wealthy 
  patrons may also offer a reward for the death 
  of the monster. The exact nature and abilities 
  of the monster are left for the DM to 
  determine, as best fits the campaign.  
   
  For further developments, Rune’s run of bad 
  luck could have been caused by Carlyn 
  Talpok, in order to get the gnome desperate 
  enough to accept any source of income. 
  Additionally, the creature could have been 
  released to either aid or hinder the members 
  of the Sembian cell of the Cult of the Dragon. 
   
   
  Adventure Hook!IV!
   
  Laneera Saldonnan has an unexpected guest 
  at her party. 
   
  In preparation for a grand ball she’s holding 
  in her manor, Laneera paid handsomely for 
  the importation of many exotic plants. 
  Wanting to impress her guests by showing off 
  her wealth, Laneera purchased plants from 
  as far away as Zakhara and Kara-Tur. She 
  hired some of Waterdeep’s best gardeners to 
  properly arrange the flora, and to care for it 
  until her party was held. Special planters and 
  trellises were placed all throughout her 
  estate, though the majority of them can be 
  found in her ballroom. 
   
  What no one has yet realized is that one of 
  the plants was the chosen abode of a 
  mischievous fae. Upset at the disturbance of 
  its home, the fae has been wandering 
  throughout the manor, causing all sorts of 
  minor mischief. Laneera and her servants 
  know something is amiss, but thus far, the 
  tricks have been limited to strange sounds 
  and small items disappearing or turning up in 
  odd places. Laneera has the servants paying 
  particular 
  care 
  to 
  their 
  surroundings, 
  returning items to their proper place as soon 
  as they are moved. Laneera wants nothing to 
  interfere with her gala event. 
   
  When the party begins, the PCs are among 
  the guests. Perhaps they are notable enough 
  to receive a direct invitation, or perhaps they 
  are accompanying an invited guest, who is 
  taking the PCs along for his or her own 
  reasons.  
   
  However the PCs get into the party, they are 
  there when the fae starts playing pranks on a 
  grander scale. Rather than minor effects, the 
  fae begins playing highly visible tricks. The 
  wives of noblemen find their hairstyles 
  changing into often comical arrangements, 
  and 
  their 
  carefully 
  applied 
  cosmetics 
  changing colors. Wealthy men are shocked to 
  see their clothing changing styles and colors. 
  Jewelry is magically being swapped among 
  various people almost as fast as they can 
  see, causing no end of commotion as family 
  heirlooms suddenly appear in the hands of 
  strangers. At one end of the room, powdered 
  confections suddenly soar into the air, flying 
  into the faces of surprised party-goers. 
   
  Trying in vain to regain control of her party, 
  a disheveled Laneera literally bumps into one 
  of the PCs. Recognizing them as adventurers, 
  she offers a large reward if they can capture 
  the mayhem-causing fae. This task is made 
  more difficult by the fact that the trickster is 
  invisible and able to use dimension doors to 
  quickly move from place to place. 
   
  
   
  27!
  Adventure Hook!V!
   
  The Dolhanna family is not excited about 
  their next party. 
   
  Nearly 
  a 
  century 
  ago, 
  Athis 
  Dolhanna 
  returned 
  home, 
  after 
  a 
  decade 
  of 
  adventuring. The third son of Miskalar “Old 
  Miskal” Dolhanna, Athis had left the family 
  estates after realizing his older brothers 
  would inherit most of the family fortunes. 
  Rather than be forced to live on their 
  largesse, Athis took his late uncle’s magical 
  sword and set out on his own, hoping to win 
  his own fortune.  
   
  Athis forged his own adventuring company, 
  the Company of the Green Dagger. He and 
  his 
  companions, 
  all 
  minor 
  noblemen, 
  wandered 
  across 
  the 
  North, 
  before 
  journeying to Raven’s Bluff. They spent 
  nearly a year there before resuming their 
  aimless 
  travels, 
  eventually 
  finding 
  themselves in Calimport. In their wake, the 
  members of the Green Dagger left empty 
  dungeons, scoured ruins, and scores of 
  smitten young ladies. 
   
  Though Athis refused to speak of it, some 
  doom befell the Company in Calimport. The 
  surviving members scattered, each taking his 
  share of their treasure and returning home. 
  In addition to gold, gems, and various 
  magical items, Athis brought home an 
  enchanted tapestry he’d found in the Border 
  Kingdoms. 
   
  The tapestry was magnificent, woven of a 
  magical thread unlike any that had been seen 
  before. It was also very large – fully ten feet 
  high and twenty-five feet long. The tapestry’s 
  most extraordinary feature, though, was 
  what it depicted. Instead of something 
  mundane, like the static display of a battle or 
  hunting scene, the tapestry depicted life-size 
  figures, 
  richly 
  clothed 
  and 
  elegantly 
  appointed, gracefully dancing to the sounds 
  of unseen musicians. The people in the 
  tapestry actually moved, swirling and flowing 
  through the steps of their dance. The figures 
  in the forefront would glide across the length 
  of the tapestry, slipping out of view as other 
  dancers replaced them. Though the minstrels 
  could not be seen, their music rang out softly 
  but clearly, audible to all near the tapestry. 
   
  The magic of the tapestry wasn’t limited to a 
  single ball. At random intervals, the scenery 
  would shift, showing another grand chamber, 
  with other partygoers gracefully moving to 
  the music of a different set of musicians. The 
  people in the tapestry were always human, 
  though their styles of dress varied greatly. 
  Some were obviously from far-away lands 
  such as Kara-Tur, while others appeared in 
  local but archaic clothing. An oddity of the 
  tapestry’s magic was that the dancers were 
  always unknown to the viewers. 
   
  The 
  Dolhannas 
  immediately 
  hung 
  the 
  incredible tapestry in their own ballroom, 
  where it became the centerpiece of many 
  grand events. Word of the tapestry spread, 
  and the Dolhannas rose in social prominence 
  because of it. The tapestry soon came to be 
  called The Ever-shifting Dancers, and its 
  fame made it one of the family’s most valued 
  possessions. 
   
  Now, however, it has the family worried. For 
  the first time, familiar faces were seen in the 
  tapestry – faces of local nobles, all of whom 
  are invited to a party scheduled to happen 
  next week. As the surprised family stared at 
  the familiar ballroom, they were horrified to 
  see an unidentified couple suddenly turn, 
  daggers raised, and plunge the blades into 
  the backs of a nearby nobleman and his wife. 
  Both 
  crumpled 
  to 
  the 
  ground 
  as 
  the 
  mysterious assassins fled into the shocked 
  crowd.  
   
  As horrifying as this scene was, it was worse 
  when the blood of the slain nobles began 
  dripping out of the tapestry. 
   
  The Dolhannas hire the PCs to investigate 
  this 
  strange 
  occurrence. 
  The 
  PCs 
  are 
  expected to determine who the assassins are 
  and capture them before the scene in the 
  tapestry comes to pass. The Dolhannas will 
  pay handsomely for this, but they expect the 
  utmost of discretion from the PCs. 
   
   
   
   
   
  
   
  28!
  Adventure Hook!VI!
   
  Talserin is not alone in his body. 
   
  Talserin, a Waterdhavian rogue, has spent 
  most of his life living on the streets. He can’t 
  remember having a family, and he’s not even 
  sure if he was born in Waterdeep or 
  elsewhere. Quite dexterous from an early 
  age, Talserin was guided into thievery by 
  older rogues who wished to capitalize on his 
  childhood innocence. As he became older, he 
  went through a succession of partners, each 
  time selecting someone he could count on for 
  mutual protection, if nothing else. When he 
  reached adulthood, Talserin became a lone 
  operator, one of many trying to get by in the 
  City of Splendors. 
   
  As a thief, Talserin has been luckier than 
  most. He found a forgotten basement under 
  a Trades Ward shop, which he now uses as a 
  home and base of operations. His looks are 
  plain 
  and 
  nondescript, 
  and 
  his 
  build 
  unremarkable – essential qualities for a 
  pickpocket to possess. Talserin has also been 
  fortunate to avoid the Watch for most of his 
  career; he regularly changes his haunts and 
  tactics to avoid becoming predictable and 
  noticeable. He has, in short, managed to 
  maintain 
  a 
  nearly-comfortable 
  lifestyle 
  without interference or help from others.  
   
  It isn’t the best life, but Talserin is satisfied 
  with it. 
   
  Recently, though, something happened to 
  Talserin, something that has taken much of 
  his former satisfaction away from him. While 
  picking the pockets of sailors in the Dock 
  Ward, he found an unusual amulet with an 
  unknown sigil engraved on its round face. 
  Something about the silver amulet made the 
  young thief uncomfortable, and he resolved 
  to pass it to a fence as soon as possible.  
   
  However, none of his usual fences were 
  interested in the amulet – something about it 
  disquieted them as much as it did him. 
  Talserin didn’t want to keep the amulet, but 
  he wasn’t willing to part with it for free, 
  either. He took the amulet back to his 
  basement home, intending to try fencing it 
  again in a month or two. 
   
  A few nights later, the dreams began. 
  Talserin could never remember them when 
  he woke up, but the dreams left him feeling 
  more uncomfortable than before. Talserin 
  began to think he might have to simply toss 
  the amulet into the harbor to be rid of it. 
   
  He 
  never 
  got 
  the 
  chance. 
  He 
  woke 
  unexpectedly in the middle of the night, 
  drawn from sleep by some unheard call. Still 
  groggy 
  and 
  not 
  fully 
  awake, 
  Talserin 
  stumbled over to the shelf where the amulet 
  lay. Before he was aware of what he was 
  doing, he slipped the chain over his head. A 
  foreign presence entered into Talserin’s 
  consciousness, waking him more effectively 
  than a Watch whistle could have. 
   
  The other presence – another thief, calling 
  himself Greykin – did not dominate Talserin’s 
  body, as he had initially feared. Nor did 
  Greykin force Talserin to do or say anything 
  he didn’t wish. Instead of the helpless 
  possession spoken of in bard’s tales, Talserin 
  found he now had a constant companion, 
  speaking quietly into his mind. It was almost 
  as if an invisible person was constantly 
  looking over his shoulder and whispering into 
  his ear. 
   
  Greykin had been a half-drow thief, living 
  and 
  dying 
  some 
  twenty 
  years 
  before 
  Talserin’s birth. He and his companions had 
  raided a wizard’s tower, not realizing its 
  owner, 
  Saegan 
  Swiftrune, 
  had 
  recently 
  become a lich. By chance, they broke into the 
  tower while the lich was away, escaping with 
  much of his treasure before the lich returned 
  to his lair.  
   
  The lich’s vengeance was terrible. He hunted 
  down and slew the companions one by one, 
  until 
  only 
  Greykin 
  was 
  left. 
  Swiftrune 
  captured Greykin, cursing him to never rest 
  until each item stolen from the lich was 
  returned. 
   
  Greykin was successful in reclaiming most of 
  the treasure. The only item remaining was a 
  staff the lich had created, a personalized 
  device he called, naturally, Saegan’s Staff. 
  Greykin believes the staff was carried down 
  into Undermountain, but he was killed trying 
  to find it. He found his consciousness bound 
  to the amulet; he has since led several 
  
   
  29!
  people into Halaster’s Halls in the hopes of 
  finding the staff, and his rest. None have 
  succeeded. 
   
  Enchantments on the amulet always returned 
  it to the surface, though sometimes far from 
  Waterdeep. Once worn, the amulet can not 
  be removed, nor can its wearer be free of 
  Greykin’s voice. Greykin hates what has been 
  done to him, but he can’t break the 
  enchantment. 
   
  Talserin has spent his entire life (or nearly all 
  of it) in Waterdeep. He affects a worldly and 
  jaded manner, but he is realistic enough to 
  know that he’s not strong enough to venture 
  into Halaster’s Halls on his own. He also 
  knows that there is no conceivable way he 
  could challenge a lich, so he has no choice 
  but to help Greykin seek out the staff. He 
  hires the PCs to accompany him into 
  Undermountain, help him find the staff, and 
  then accompany him to Saegan Swiftrune’s 
  tower, where both he and Greykin can be 
  freed. 
   
  Adventure Hook!VII 
   
  The dryad Ishenarauni desperately wants to 
  have dryad offspring. She’s mated with 
  several males of various races, but every 
  time she gives birth, her child is another 
  satyr. Anyone that could help her give birth 
  to dryads will be rewarded as the DM sees fit. 
  The ten or so males that Ishenarauni has 
  mated with in the past have, except for one 
  or two of them, returned to their homes after 
  she was done with them. 
  !
   
  Adventure Hook!VIII!
   
  Noallerva, a lillend servant of Selûne, has 
  disappeared.  The moon deity has sent 
  dreams to her faithful, instructing them to 
  find 
  Noallerva, 
  or 
  to 
  determine 
  what 
  happened to her.  All that is known about the 
  disappearance is that Noallerva was guarding 
  the Infinite Staircase. As the lillend stopped 
  on a grey-white landing, something opened a 
  red-gold door and pulled her through it. In 
  the dreams Selûne sent to her faithful, all 
  they can see of the attacker is a pair of green 
  clawed hands and a humanoid body, enfolded 
  by reptilian wings. 
   
   
  Adventure Hook!IX!
   
  Before being ripped apart by the pack, 
  someone summoned between ten and twenty 
  howlers in the middle of Zhentil Keep. Before 
  the howlers could be killed or rounded up, 
  they escaped the city. Now there are reports 
  that 
  they 
  have 
  been 
  terrorizing 
  the 
  settlements along the northern part of the 
  Moonsea. The Council of Phlan is offering a 
  reward to anyone that can show proof that 
  these chaotic and evil creatures have been 
  killed or sent back to the plane that they 
  were summoned from. 
   
  Adventure Hook!X 
  !
  Farmer Ommossar has found two fairly large 
  brown eggs partially buried in his field, and 
  he is looking for anyone who can tell him 
  what kind of creature laid the eggs. He 
  doesn’t know it, but the eggs are the 
  offspring of a two mated bulettes. The beasts 
  have since moved on, driven away by some 
  Underdark race: drow, dwarves, or whatever 
  the DM wants to use. 
   
  Adventure Hook!XI!
   
  Hemrira was once a female human, but she 
  angered a passing wizard, who transformed 
  her into a pony. She’s since come to enjoy 
  being a pony. However, the wizard’s spell left 
  her able to talk, and this causes many of the 
  people that she meets to look at her in 
  surprise or shock. Currently, she is stabled in 
  a small stable in Shadowdale. She is seeking 
  anyone that won’t make her self-conscious 
  by staring at her, and who would be willing to 
  feed her and take care of her. Hemrira is 
  very familiar the area around the Dales, 
  because she was a guard on many of the 
  caravans that moved through the Dales. 
       
   
  
   
  2:!
  Adventure Hook!XII!
   
  Ztethnos, an apprentice wizard, has been 
  ordered by his master to find a shocker 
  lizard, and to gather a bit of that lizard’s 
  lightning to use in a wand of lightning. The 
  apprentice 
  has 
  been 
  seen 
  around 
  the 
  settlement trying to find anyone that will help 
  him find one or more of these creatures. He 
  is willing to supply, as a reward, an arcane 
  potion or two of the DM’s choice.  
  !
  !
  !
  !
  !
  !
  !
  !
  !
  !
  
   
  31!
  !
  !
  The Aearee 
  By Gray Richardson 
   
  When the green wyrm Elaacrimalicros savaged the Star Mounts colony, he slaughtered my entire clan.  Since 
  that terrible day, I have devoted my life to preserving the lore of my great race. I have traveled to the far 
  jungles of Anchorome to learn the songs of the western flocks, and I have journeyed east to Shou Lung to 
  brave the lair of an ancient kenku lich.  I have descended into the Underdark to uncover the secrets of the 
  dire corbies, and I have sailed the Sea of Night on a spelljammer ship to hear sagas from the beaks of Coliar 
  windcallers. 
   
  I am Wuoress Aartenoo, the last aarakocra of the Ephru’cayre aerie, and this is the song of my people. 
   
   
  * * * * 
   
  n the Days of Thunder, 
  Faerûn 
  shook 
  from 
  the 
  workings 
  of 
  the 
  Creator 
  Races.  Fearsome serpent 
  men, the sly and subtle fey, 
  zealous amphibian folk, and 
  the 
  sky-soaring 
  Aearee; 
  each in turn made their mark on the face of 
  the One Land. 
   
  The Aearee, which simply meant “the people” 
  in our language, would spread to the far 
  corners of Faerûn, and beyond.  We were 
  not, however, a monolithic race; neither form 
  nor philosophy united us.  The Aearee were 
  loosely divided into three major flocks. 
   
  The Aearee-Krocaa, followers of the All-
  Father Krocaa, tended toward feathers of 
  scarlet, rose, plum and peach – all the 
  glorious colors of the dawn.  They established 
  the 
  grand 
  aerie 
  of 
  Viakoo 
  on 
  Mount 
  Havraquoar, which became the capital of 
  their great nation.  The Aearee-Krocaa 
  occupied the western lands of Faerûn.  Mount 
  Havraquar itself stood far west of the where 
  the Sword Coast ends today.  That mountain, 
  and much of the former lands of the Aearee-
  Krocaa, was destroyed many centuries later 
  when over-proud elves sundered the One 
  Land in a High Magic cataclysm during the 
  time of the First Flowering. 
   
  In the north of Faerûn lived the People of the 
  Day, sometimes called the Aearee-Syran. 
  Their plumage ranged from light brown to 
  gold to tan and white.  A strong and majestic 
  folk, their features were reminiscent of 
  eagles and hawks.  They enjoyed the special 
  favor of Krocaa’s daughter, Syranita, who 
  they praised as their patron.  They nested in 
  all the forests of the north, but made their 
  capital at the aerie of Phwiukree, in the 
  peaks of the Star Mounts. 
   
  The People of the Dusk, called by some the 
  Aearee-Quor, flocked to the south and the 
  east of Faerûn. They bore the features of 
  crows and jays.  Their feathers were brown 
  and grey and every shade of black – all the 
  somber 
  colors 
  of 
  twilight. 
  Some 
  few 
  possessed hackles of iridescent feathers that 
  shimmered with the hues of an aurora 
  against an arctic sky. The Aearee-Quor’s 
  patron was Quorlinn, whose wits and cunning 
  preserved their flocks through the worst 
  times of the Batrachi domination and inspired 
  in their hearts a fierce pride and determined 
  self-reliance.  Spreading out from the Shara 
  rookery in the Orsraun Mountains, they grew 
  into a loose affiliation of floating city-states 
  that would eventually span the breadth of the 
  continent. 
   
  While the major flocks had their favored 
  patrons, the Aearee were anything but 
  monotheistic.  Their pantheon included a 
  multitude of gods, all but forgotten today.  
   
  
   
  32!
  Krocaa the All-Father, god of creation, 
  intelligence, 
  and 
  invention, 
  ruled 
  the 
  pantheon.  His daughter, Syranita, radiant 
  goddess of the sky, whose sharp eyes 
  watched over and protected all, would 
  surpass him in later centuries, growing more 
  prominent in Faerûn as the Aearee-Krocaa 
  explored and settled further and further to 
  the west. 
   
  Sneaky 
  Quorlinn 
  was 
  ever-shunned 
  by 
  Krocaa for past treachery.  Myths told of how 
  Quorlinn would bring his father trophies from 
  his exploits, jewels and shiny treasures he 
  had won by his wits, to garner Krocaa’s 
  favor.  But despite his many efforts, at the 
  end of every tale he was always rebuffed, 
  never 
  managing 
  to 
  regain 
  his 
  father’s 
  goodwill. 
   
  Phraarkiloorm, god of death and predation, 
  had his place in the divine flock.  His 
  adherents included the canniest of hunters 
  and the fierce Raptor Knights.  In the years 
  after the Long Night, his followers would hunt 
  the surviving Batrachi to near extinction, 
  raining death from the sky in retribution for 
  past cruelties. 
   
  The divine flock also included Remnis of the 
  eagles and Lady Fileet, beast lord of birds. 
  Akadi, goddess of Elemental Air, was known, 
  as was K’ooriall of the Winds (who is 
  sometimes confused with Koriel of the Ki-
  rin), along with a multitude of demi-gods and 
  hero gods, and all the myriad brood of 
  Krocaa. 
   
  Before the Days of Thunder, primitive Aearee 
  nested in all the forests and high places 
  throughout Faerûn. They subsisted in small 
  family groups and coveys.  In the absence of 
  agriculture, it was impossible for them to 
  congregate in any kind of larger society, as 
  the fruits of the land could not sustain sizable 
  flocks. 
   
  Forced 
  to 
  vigorously 
  defend 
  expansive swaths of territory just to hunt and 
  gather sufficient food to power their flight 
  and high metabolism, the first avian folk 
  were territorial, fiercely devoted to family 
  and clan, and hostile to other tribes and 
  outsiders. 
   
  Ironically, only through enslavement by 
  successive Sarrukh and Batrachi empires did 
  the Aearee form a sense of racial identity and 
  solidarity.  Beneath the yoke of cold-blooded 
  overseers, the Aearee learned the techniques 
  of agriculture that would allow them to feed 
  large flocks.  With the cunning of Quorlinn, 
  the Aearee filched the secrets of writing and 
  magic from the slave lords.  And with the 
  patience and watchfulness of Syranita, they 
  attended their oppressors, sowing in their 
  hearts the seeds of civilization that would 
  blossom after a storm of falling stars freed 
  them from slavery. 
   
  In the wake of Tearfall – the blazing storm of 
  stars that scoured the Batrachi overlords 
  from the face of Faerûn – the avians rose 
  against their former masters.  The few 
  remaining Ramenite Thearchs were hurled 
  into the bellies of their iron-mawed toad 
  altars, to burn amidst the ashes of untold 
  Aearee victims, sacrificed over centuries to 
  the hunger of a rapacious god. 
    
  But the falling stars took their toll on more 
  than the Batrachi.  Chauntea ached from her 
  fiery wounds.  Wracked by tremors, she 
  strove to scrub the black-burnt scars from 
  her soil with floods and storms.  The world 
  fell into a deep quiescence under a blanket of 
  snow and ice and a dark, dark brume that hid 
  the sun for many years.  The newly-freed 
  avians endured the earthquakes and horrid 
  storms.  The seven-fold winter that followed 
  Tearfall nearly finished them off, but Krocaa 
  provided. 
   
  The 
  Aearee-Krocaa 
  sung 
  powerful 
  spell 
  mantles around their aeries and sacred 
  forests. These mantles, with the grace of 
  Krocaa, shielded them from the harsher 
  depredations of the Long Night.  In the Star 
  Mounts, Phwiukree spellsingers called forth 
  towering crystal spires from the peaks of the 
  central mountains, whose exquisite magics 
  could control the very weather above the 
  High Forest. 
   
  In the south, the wily people of Quorlinn 
  taught themselves to burrow and delve in the 
  earth.  At first they merely nested in warm 
  volcanic caves and vents in the Orsraun 
  Mountains, called by them the Shara.  Shafts 
  into the Underdark below gave access to 
  limited food, such as bats, rodents, insects 
  and edible fungi. Though meager, it was 
  
   
  33!
  sufficient sustenance to outlast the snows 
  above. 
   
  Over time, they excavated fastholds in the 
  deeper Underdark, larger rookeries where 
  bigger clans could dwell, and where their 
  hatcheries were safe from predators.  Certain 
  chambers maintained a constant temperature 
  ideal for incubating Aearee eggs, which freed 
  the parents to hunt and scavenge full-time.  
  The Shara rookeries flourished through the 
  Long Night, though some few communities 
  perished when ruinous aftershocks collapsed 
  their doubtful redoubts. 
   
  These burrowers learned the song of stone 
  and soil.  They taught themselves to mine 
  and smelt and work metals.  They became 
  deft 
  smiths 
  and 
  alchemists, 
  developing 
  talents unequaled among the other Aearee. 
   
  On the surface, the Krocaan druids of the 
  western Aearee wove runes of warmth and 
  light from the very branches and roots of 
  living trees.  Judicious use of perpetual 
  daylight and warming spells saved countless 
  woodlands 
  as 
  tireless 
  ranger-priests 
  of 
  Syranita went out among the wealds of the 
  One Land to preserve the fragile green things 
  from frost and lack of sun. 
   
  In the north, the Aearee-Syran came into 
  conflict with the Winter Queen of the Uldra 
  fey over their efforts to warm the land.  Frost 
  giants from the Kingdom of Ottar joined with 
  the 
  Uldra, 
  and 
  a 
  great 
  war 
  erupted 
  throughout the High Forest as tribes of 
  sprites and other fey folk were drawn into the 
  conflagration on both sides. The battles 
  raged for many years, but, in the end, the 
  Armies of Ice were driven back to the Spine 
  of the World, defeated as much by the 
  returning sun as the tactics of the Aearee 
  forces. 
   
  Skilled and gracious priests of Syranita from 
  the aerie of Phwiukree negotiated a treaty 
  with the OverKing of the High Forest sprites. 
  Together they planted an arakhor sapling, 
  Mornungongbarae, a celestial tree-spirit of 
  divine lineage – said to be descended from 
  Emmantiensien himself.  In the shadow of 
  the Star Mounts, deep within the Unicorn 
  Run, the little sapling grew to tower above 
  the High Forest, guarding the pledge of 
  friendship between the two races, a peace 
  that would last nearly a thousand years. 
   
  When the ice and snow had finally melted, 
  the Aearee set to work reviving and repairing 
  the dormant forests.  As Chauntea began to 
  wake from her tortured slumber, the druids 
  tended to the ailing trees.  They nursed the 
  plant life as best they could, and planted new 
  seedlings where huge swaths of woodlands 
  had succumbed. 
   
  In the open fields, they tilled the soil, 
  practicing skills learned under slavers’ whips, 
  to feed their own beaks and the bellies of a 
  starving people.  They planted grains and 
  berries, tubers and fruits.  They corralled wild 
  beasts and fowl into herds and flocks, 
  becoming shepherds and ranchers. 
   
  Farms grew into villages, always built in 
  wooded or high places.  They were ever 
  fearful of the wild beasts and monsters that 
  roamed the One Land, including thunder 
  lizards in those days – and a smaller, yet 
  more ferocious breed of colorful lizards that 
  had sprung up everywhere in the years since 
  Tearfall.  The Aearee preferred elevated 
  dwellings, high off the ground, safe in the 
  cradling limbs of trees, and in the crags of 
  sheer cliffs. 
   
  The Sharan Aearee maintained their warm 
  stone rookeries, but as the sun returned, 
  they moved upwards again to settle amid the 
  peaks and precipices of the Shara Mountains.  
  From there they descended into the fertile, 
  protected valley where Turmish lies today.  
  They grew crops there and fished the waters 
  of the new-born sea. 
   
  In 
  Viakoo, 
  to 
  the 
  west, 
  the 
  Krocaan 
  runeweavers progressed in their discipline of 
  plaiting tree boughs and roots into intricate, 
  living glyphs, until they had lifted whole trees 
  into the sky.  Soon, the Aearee-Krocaa were 
  raising small forests into the air, and the sky-
  folk made their homes there, in vast aeries 
  that floated among the clouds. 
   
  The Netherese thought they were so clever 
  when they raised their mighty cities in flight.  
  But the dragons flew such lofty lairs in far 
  more ancient times, as did the giants before 
  
   
  34!
  them, who taught them the secret.  Yet the 
  Aearee were the first to perfect the art. 
   
  The southern Aearee lacked the devotion of 
  their western cousins to foster the skill of 
  crafting runes, which is, at its heart, an 
  exercise in divine power.  But they were very 
  canny in the Art. 
   
  The arcanists of Shara developed feats of 
  arcane magic never rivaled by the flocks of 
  the north and west.  They opened portals to 
  the elemental planes and forged compacts 
  with the djinn.  Under genie tutelage, the 
  Sharans bound powerful elemental spirits to 
  small timber structures, raising them aloft.  
  Linking these vessels together with chain and 
  rope and wood, the Aearee-Quor built their 
  own floating rookeries in which to dwell.  In 
  less than a century the Aearee of Shara had 
  gone from burrowing in the ground to soaring 
  above the clouds, a triumph that swelled 
  their breasts with pride. 
   
  As the arcanists grew ever-more proficient in 
  their Art, they learned to forego the binding 
  of elementals in favor of crafting rudimentary 
  spelljamming helms, an innovation that 
  spread to the west, as the Aearee-Krocaa 
  would come to build several of their smaller 
  cities using this technique.  The Sharan 
  rookeries grew bigger and bigger.  In later 
  centuries the Sharans discovered the secret 
  of crafting a mythallar; finally their rookeries 
  could rival the cloud-forests of their northern 
  and western cousins. 
   
  The rookery of Aeng-Shara, which sailed 
  above the western Shaar, was the first of 
  these – and no other ever matched its glory.  
  To craft the city, the roots of a great weir 
  tree were braided around the mystic artifact.  
  Only the Sharan arcanists knew the secret of 
  protecting the tree from the impossible forces 
  that would slay any living thing that touched 
  the surface of a mythallar.  Over time, the 
  mythallar nourished the tree, fattened its 
  boughs, extending it outwards and upwards 
  into an arboreal colossus, truly cyclopean in 
  magnitude. 
   
  Additional trees (among them zalantars, 
  oaks, cypress, duskwood, and phandars) 
  were tethered to the central weir by ropes 
  and netting, and by interweaving their 
  branches.  The rookery was spun outwards in 
  spiral fashion until it had grown many 
  bowshots in diameter.  At its most populous, 
  the rookery supported nearly fifty-thousand 
  people. 
   
  The sky-realms of the Aearee could grow 
  only limited food – fruiting trees, vines and 
  small roosts of pigeons, quail and partridge. 
  But the demands of a large population 
  required much greater nourishment than 
  could be grown in the clouds.  Supplies of 
  food had to be brought up continuously from 
  the fields and farms below.  The aeries above 
  Viakoo and Phwiukree employed soarwhales, 
  cloud rays, carts drawn by teams of giant 
  eagles, and great flying arks to haul goods 
  from the surface, while the Sharan rookeries 
  bred titanic rocs to lift supplies up from the 
  valley below. 
   
  As the flying cities proliferated, they spread 
  outward from their home-nests.  Each new 
  aerie spaced itself far from the next, claiming 
  a wide expanse of land beneath in fief.  Every 
  floating metropolis depended on a sizable 
  territory of farms and holdings below it.  
  Each territory, including the city and the 
  lands beneath it, operated as an independent 
  canton, governing themselves as they saw 
  best.  They maintained friendly ties with each 
  other, and stronger ties still to their home-
  nests at Viakoo, Phwiukree and Shara. 
   
  The Aearee of Viakoo spread westward to 
  lands now long vanished beneath the waves.   
  They settled also to their east, occupying the 
  skies above what is now the Western 
  Heartlands, farming the green fields below.  
  They founded a traditional, terrestrial aerie in 
  the Cloud Peaks, called Diennkae, which was 
  lost in a calamitous war with a colony of 
  cloud giants from Uvar Kongerike.  This song 
  is still sung today in Anchorome as the Dirge 
  of Diennkae. 
   
  The Aearee of Phwiukree spread their floating 
  colonies across the north and  east into the 
  green plains of Anauroch, and farther east 
  along the shores of the Star-Carved Sea to 
  roost above the forests of Cormanthor, 
  Lethyr and the Yuir. 
   
  The Aearee of Shara first founded the 
  rookery 
  of 
  Ephwee-Shara 
  above 
  the 
  
   
  35!
  Gulthmere Forest, the rookery of Reeori-
  Shara above the Shining Plains, and from 
  there they spread west as far as the lands 
  that 
  comprise 
  modern 
  Amn 
  and 
  the 
  Wealdath.  They traveled east, through the 
  lands of the Old Empires – long before there 
  were any Empires there – as far as the 
  Raurin plains, and south across the whole of 
  the Shaar, to the shores of the Great Sea. 
   
  In the Shaar, the rookery of Kookriu-Shara 
  came 
  into 
  conflict 
  with 
  the 
  gnolls 
  of  
  Urgnarash, a militant kingdom of slavers.  
  Highly organized and aggressive, the gnolls 
  held tribes of plains-fey, humans and even 
  hill giants under their lash.  The gnolls used 
  these slaves to help conquer more territory 
  and support an expansionist regime.  
   
  The warriors of Urgnarash raided constantly 
  into the farms and holdings that supported 
  Kookriu-Shara. Thinking to quash a minor 
  annoyance, their Raptor Knights assaulted 
  the seat of power of Urgnarash.  Flying over 
  on their rocs, they blasted fireballs and 
  lightning down at the gnoll king and his 
  army.  The gnolls responded by shooting the 
  rocs from the sky with great ballistae.  The 
  vengeful gnolls then burned the farms and 
  fields of Kookriu-Shara, setting the Shaar 
  ablaze. 
   
  The stunned Kookriu matriarchs became 
  enraged.  Singing the ancient battle calls, 
  they 
  entreated 
  the 
  aid 
  of 
  neighboring 
  rookeries, 
  Awookreet-Shara 
  and 
  Oweeo.  
  Together they sought to prosecute a war of 
  extermination against Urgnarash. 
   
  But the triune matriarchs underestimated the 
  resourceful gnolls.  Gnoll shamans prayed to 
  Yeenoghu, who loosed a school of terlen from 
  the nether planes.  From the backs of flying 
  sharks, the gnoll cavalry swarmed the 
  Aearee.  The shark-riders carried arrows 
  tipped with dung and pitch, which they set 
  alight and fired upon the rookeries.  Their 
  voracious mounts tore through skeins of 
  defenders, devouring knight after knight right 
  out of the air.  Before the day was done, the 
  gnolls prevailed, and all three rookeries 
  crashed in cinders to the ground. 
   
  Rookeries across the Shaar were horrified.  
  They summoned djinn and efreet to harrow 
  the gnolls with whirlwinds and fires.  The 
  shamans of Yeenoghu summoned marrashi –  
  spirits of pestilence from the Barrens of 
  Doom and Despair – to blight Aearee crops 
  and spread a wasting plague among the 
  avians. 
   
  The Aearee-Quor were decimated. With their 
  farmlands 
  ruined 
  and 
  little 
  workforce 
  remaining to farm them, the Aearee set upon 
  humans and fey tribes to the north of the 
  Shaar in order to plunder their crops and 
  enslave a replacement workforce to feed the 
  hungry rookeries.  Thus began a never-
  ending cycle of conquest, as the southern 
  rookeries exhausted the resources of each 
  successive region, and moved further and 
  further north. 
   
  Riding in great howdahs atop the backs of 
  colossal battle rocs, the raptor legions hurled 
  spells and bolts down on their woeful victims.  
  They girded these living dreadnoughts in 
  mithral barding, sacrificing maneuverability 
  for impregnability, until their alchemists 
  discovered the secret of sheening the rocs’ 
  feathers in adamantine, a technique that 
  made them nigh impervious to arrows and 
  missile-fire. 
   
  Arcanists of less militant rookeries never 
  ceased their studies into the summoning 
  arts.  Having mastered the inner planes, they 
  gazed beyond the Astral to explore the outer 
  planes. They learned to summon such 
  outsiders as celestials and fiends.  Above the 
  shores of the Great Sea, in the remote 
  rookery 
  of 
  Okwalok-Shara, 
  a 
  young 
  summoner 
  named 
  Sieska 
  Waewielonn 
  stumbled upon a mysterious name in her 
  researches into a plane that was, as yet, 
  unknown to her. Uttering that name released 
  a vile power that would change the fate of 
  the Aearee forever…  Pazrael. 
   
  He appeared to her as the handsomest of 
  Aearee with six-wings.  He promised to show 
  her awesome secrets and wonders.  He 
  claimed to be a god.  Pazrael… a sweet-
  sounding name for a demonic lord of ultimate 
  corruption. 
   
  With a sonorous song, he seduced the 
  curious mage, promising gifts and powers 
  
   
  36!
  untold if she would only pledge her soul to 
  him.  And he delivered. 
   
  Soon, Sieska was the archmage of her 
  rookery, and a skilled seductress herself.  
  Pazrael channeled her hunger for knowledge 
  into a hunger for power, investing her as the 
  herald of his growing faith.  All the Aearee of 
  Okwalok-Shara, to a one, joined their song 
  with hers and pledged their souls to Pazrael.  
  Okwalok-Shara became a terror in the sky. 
   
  Pazrael taught the arcanists how to summon 
  magical servants called vrocks.  With the aid 
  of demon legions, Okwalok-Shara conquered 
  far-flung lands.  Soon they brought all 
  neighboring rookeries under Sieska’s iron 
  wing.  Transferring her capital to the grand 
  rookery of Aeng-Shara, the scion of Pazrael 
  rapidly 
  expanded 
  her 
  empire, 
  usurping 
  control of all the lands from Raurin back to 
  the home-nest of Shara in the Orsraun 
  Mountains. 
   
  The Aearee-Quor abandoned the faith of 
  Quorlinn to worship at the talons of Pazrael.  
  Those few faithful who refused to convert 
  were tied to stones and flung from the edges.  
  The hearts of the Aearee-Quor became as 
  dark as their feathers, and the People of the 
  Dusk became the People of the Night. 
   
  One lone city maintained its allegiance to 
  Quorlinn and escaped to the east. The 
  rookery 
  of 
  Tiennkoo-Shara 
  fled 
  to 
  the 
  farthest peaks of Kara-Tur, where their 
  descendants yet thrive today as the crow-
  headed race known as Tengu.  The Tengu are 
  the only branch of the Aearee-Quor who 
  never lost their wings. 
   
  The sweet promises of Pazrael came at a 
  terrible cost for the rest of the Aearee-Quor; 
  Pazrael never gives any gift but for the price 
  of the thing you hold most dear.  Pazrael 
  took from them the power of flight.  The 
  Aearee of Shara never again rode the winds, 
  except by dint of spell or steed. 
   
  Having brought the entirety of the Sharan 
  rookeries under the shadow of her dread 
  wing, Sieska turned her gaze to the north, 
  upon the cantons of the Aearee-Krocaa and 
  the Aearee-Syran.  The Weave erupted in 
  pyrotechnic splendor as the three great 
  magical nations went to war. 
   
  The 
  Krocaan 
  aeries 
  of 
  the 
  Western 
  Heartlands were first to fall.  As the rookery 
  of Aeng-Shara loomed over the horizon, 
  vrocks and Aearee joined together in the 
  Dance of Ruin, capering and whirling in 
  fiendish 
  frenzy 
  about 
  the 
  battlements.  
  Crackling bolts of eldritch power arced across 
  the firmament to char the trees of the flying 
  forests. 
   
  Sharan invaders launched from the ramparts.  
  Arrayed in battle formations, their dark 
  chevrons sliced the skies like daggers.  
  Battle-rocs eclipsed the sun as they plunged 
  down upon the aerial groves. 
   
  Defenders rose from the canopies on the 
  backs of soarwhales and in the boughs of 
  great winged treants.  Splinters and feathers, 
  blood and sap rained from the clouds as the 
  forces clashed in the air. 
   
  Wielding their many branches like a windmill 
  of cudgels, the treants hurtled at the battle-
  rocs, crashing down on them in piques of 
  arboreal fury.  The elephantine timbers of 
  their legs, like enormous battering rams, 
  shattered bones and beaks, as the wooden 
  warriors pounced upon the colossal birds.  
  Powerful roots drove beneath feathers and 
  skin to grasp unshakeable purchase.  The 
  weight of them pressed the rocs from the 
  sky.  A whirlwind of blows bashed open roc 
  skulls, flung the howdahs from their backs – 
  along with the invaders inside – and ripped 
  the feathers from their flesh. 
   
  The rocs bucked and twisted in the air.  
  Arching their heads round, sharp beaks 
  sought vulnerable eyes and tore green leaves 
  from treant wings.  Mighty talons rent bark 
  from flesh, broke limbs, and pierced vital 
  organs.  Locked in deadly embrace, both rocs 
  and treants plummeted to the earth below. 
   
  The Aearee-Krocaa fought valiantly, yet in 
  vain.  The conjurers of Aeng-Shara could 
  summon near limitless vrocks from the 
  Abyss, while the defending forces dwindled 
  as the battle wore on.  After the aeries of 
  Seearoi and Quaefeng fell to Sieska, the 
  
   
  37!
  surviving Krocaan aeries fled west, retreating 
  to Viakoo. 
   
  The shadow of Aeng-Shara fell upon the High 
  Forest as the Sharan juggernaut floated 
  relentlessly northward to engage the Aearee-
  Syran at Phwiukree.  Honoring ancient 
  treaties, the sprites came to aid their avian 
  allies against the aggressors.  But Sieska’s 
  arcanists slaughtered the fey with fireballs, 
  thunderbolts, and necromantic miasmas that 
  drew the lifeforce from their tiny frames. 
   
  In the initial volleys of the assault on 
  Phwiukree, the peerless arcanists of Aeng-
  Shara easily broke through the spell mantles 
  that protected the aerie.  Magical energies 
  coursed down upon the mountain peaks, 
  shattering the crystal spires of the Aearee-
  Syran. 
   
  Down below, the arakhor Mornungongbarae, 
  who had guarded the High Forest for nearly a 
  thousand 
  years, 
  drew 
  strength 
  and 
  nourishment from the soil of Chauntea for 
  the unimaginable feat he was about to 
  undertake.  Mystical roots tapped the Weave 
  itself for raw magical power. Pulling it into 
  himself, 
  he 
  powered 
  a 
  miraculous 
  transformation.  Silverfire coursed through 
  his xylem and phloem.  Expanding his 
  tissues, he multiplied himself in size, growing 
  in scant instants a thousand wing-spans into 
  the sky.  Towering over the forest, the 
  largest being ever to grace the face of Toril, 
  his massive roots buckling the earth below as 
  he tried to steady himself, Mornungongbarae 
  poised to strike against Sieska’s terrible city. 
   
  His timbers cracked and splintered as he 
  struggled 
  to 
  maintain 
  the 
  magic 
  that 
  sustained him.  Like a flower bending to face 
  the 
  sun, 
  Mornungongbarae 
  now 
  leaned 
  toward the Sharan rookery.  All the branches 
  of his fantastic frame entwined themselves 
  around Sieska’s citadel, canting it at a violent 
  angle.  Many hundreds of invaders fell from 
  the walls as Mornungongbarae cemented his 
  hold.  
   
  Then, as magic failed him, the timber of his 
  immense trunk shattered with a clap of 
  thunder.   The elder tree fell, crashing down 
  upon the slopes of the Star Mounts, his great 
  weight wrenching Aeng-Shara from its lofty 
  heights.  His tragic sacrifice is still sung by 
  treant skalds today, in a saga called The 
  Lament of Mornungongbarae. 
   
  The rookery smashed into the mountain face, 
  disintegrating into a cloud of debris.  The 
  mythallar cracked open and evaporated in a 
  gout of mystic flame.  The Sharan tyrant was 
  dead.  
   
  The aerie of Phwiukree was demolished, but 
  the war with Shara was ended. The eastern 
  aeries 
  of 
  the 
  Aearee-Syran 
  survived, 
  enduring an uneasy détente with the Sharan 
  empire to the south.  But the peace would 
  last only a few years before a new foe 
  revealed itself. 
   
  Aearee hunters and soldiers were called 
  increasingly to defend farms and settlements 
  from encroaching dragons.  The little lizards 
  that hatched in the wake of Tearfall had 
  grown into mighty wyrms.  Over centuries, 
  the 
  dragons 
  had 
  increased 
  their 
  size 
  manyfold, and their numbers by multitudes.  
  They hid within caverns and swamps, in 
  desert sands and mountain crags.  Biding 
  their time, they gathered their strength, 
  watching the skies until the day they would 
  challenge the Aearee for dominion of Faerûn. 
   
  On that fateful day, some thousand years 
  after they fell from the sky as eggs, dragons 
  across Faerûn swarmed together in the first 
  Flight of Dragons. They assailed the avians in 
  the air, on the land and beneath the ground.  
  They burned the cities from the skies.  They 
  snatched the Aearee from the air, swallowing 
  them in mid-flight. They fell upon the home-
  nests of Viakoo and Shara, ravaging the 
  aeries, destroying them utterly. 
   
  The wyrm Nagamat rampaged through the 
  Underdark below the Orsraun Mountains, 
  consuming the Sharans and burning their 
  ancestral hatcheries.  Nagamat took all of 
  Shara as his lair, and finding many wonders 
  there, used Aearee magic to help found the 
  first 
  dragon 
  kingdom. 
  Sharan 
  survivors 
  escaped deeper into the Underdark, where 
  the feral and twisted descendants of the 
  Aearee-Quor became the dire corbies. 
   
  The survivors of Viakoo fled west across the 
  ocean to the land called Anchorome.  Five of 
  
   
  38!
  their cities, all crafted from spelljamming 
  helms, fled to the stars.  Rulungwar, 
  Donnakee, Phra’iskree, Oolatiel, and an 
  unnamed fifth one, lost during the exodus, 
  crossed the Sea of Night to the world of 
  Coliar. These aeries float there still, among 
  Coliar’s manifold moons.  Descendants of the 
  Aearee-Krocaa are known today as the 
  aarakocra. 
   
  Some few repentant Aearee-Quor begged 
  Quorlinn for his mercy, and he led them to 
  Kara-Tur to find refuge with their long lost 
  cousins of Tiennkoo-Shara.  Descendants of 
  these people call themselves kenku, a name 
  which some scholars believe derives from 
  Kanee-Tiennkoo, which means “little brothers 
  of Tiennkoo” while other sages think it 
  merely a linguistic variant of the name 
  Tiennkoo itself.  Both peoples, the tengu and 
  the kenku, thrive to this day in Kara-Tur.  
  Over 
  the 
  centuries, 
  many 
  kenku 
  have 
  emigrated back to Faerûn and have a notable 
  presence in the Unapproachable East. 
   
  In the Year of the Eagle’s Flight, 418 DR, a 
  colony of my forebears, aarakocra from 
  Maztica, flew from the lands beyond the 
  Trackless Sea to resettle our ancestral aeries 
  in Faerûn.  They founded the Six Aeries in 
  the Star Mounts, where our people lived 
  peacefully, 
  until 
  the 
  hated 
  wyrm 
  Elaacrimalicros rekindled ancient rivalries.  
  Awaking from his hibernation, the green 
  dragon savaged five of the Six Aeries, slaying 
  nearly all of my people, leaving few to tell 
  our tale. 
   
  But the world must know our story.  The 
  glory of the Aearee will be sung again, 
  carried on the tongues of man. I am Wuoress 
  Aartenoo, the last aarakocra of the aerie of 
  Ephru’cayre.  Go forth and spread our song. 
  
   
  39!
  !
  The Town of Ilipur 
  By Jorkens 
   
   
  Any traveller in the lands of the Sea of Fallen Stars will quickly hear of the dark reputation earned 
  by the Dragon Coast, the westernmost part of the inland sea.  Even the lowliest of thieves, 
  beggars, and whores will say that life in this area is harder and deadlier than theirs will ever be. 
   
  This is, of course, not entirely true. As with many bard’s tales, the stories have grown.  Voices of 
  wonder have added to the tales, with further embellishment added by the general need for people 
  to find the Hells around the corner to lighten their own lives. Still, few would disagree that the 
  city-states and towns of this area are among Faerûn’s hotbeds of intrigue. Much of this stems 
  from the independent nature of its residents, and from the region’s central placement on many 
  trade routes.  
   
  The Dragon Coast is a patchwork of cultures, power groups, and races, with a history that far 
  predates the modern lands of Cormyr and Sembia.  Some of the cities, like Westgate, Teziir, and 
  Elversult, are powerful enough to secure the region’s independence from nations such as Cormyr 
  and Turmish – no matter how much the rulers of these lands rage at the thousands of smugglers 
  and pirates they claim infest the region. There are also several smaller towns and hamlets in the 
  region, existing in a ballet of intrigue and trying to survive among their stronger neighbours. One 
  of these towns is Ilipur. 
   
  * * * 
   
  Ilipur 
    
  rchitecture 
  and 
  general 
  impression: 
  Ilipur 
  is 
  the 
  westernmost harbour town 
  on the Lake of Dragons. The 
  coast 
  in 
  this 
  area 
  is 
  dominated 
  by 
  large 
  sandbanks, mixed with the 
  rocky mouths of many shallow springs. The 
  town itself has a good harbour, though its 
  waters are shallow. At the docks, the water is 
  barely deep enough to cover the head of a 
  tall human male, so larger ships have to 
  anchor about fifty yards out into the bay. 
  Barges provided by the town transport goods 
  to and from the ships in the harbour. The 
  harbour itself is shielded from the east winds 
  by the Egnarshill ridge, which forms a half-
  moon around the docks.  
   
  Most of Ilipur’s homes and businesses stand 
  on Egnarshill. The wealthiest homes are near 
  the top of the hill, with homes and buildings 
  becoming less expensive closer to the base of 
  the hill. The cheapest structures are the 
  warehouses, located near the docks.  
   
  Homes in Ilipur are built from a mix of stone 
  and timber, with poorer houses utilizing more 
  wood. The streets are not cobbled, but the 
  steeper parts of the slope are inlaid with 
  roughly cut stone steps. The hill is steep 
  enough that most garbage runs down the 
  slope; only near the docks does one risk 
  wading through offal and mud.  
   
  As Ilipur is a place of transit more than trade, 
  it lacks a large central market. Most traders 
  and 
  craftsmen 
  sell 
  directly 
  from 
  their 
  warehouses or workshops. Some merchants 
  have booths by the docks, but as people 
  prefer to avoid this area, these merchants 
  are few and desperate. The town is rather 
  small, so finding a particular destination 
  usually takes little time. 
   
  There are few noteworthy buildings in Ilipur. 
  On the eastern point of Egnarshill stands The 
  
   
  3:!
  Eye of Lathander, an old lighthouse that only 
  sees use during storms, when it is manned 
  by the nearest member of the harbour guard.  
  A small, little-known temple of Istishia stands 
  near the docks. It is a recent addition, having 
  been converted from an abandoned sail 
  maker’s shop two summers ago. The old 
  fortress of Regnuir guards the top of 
  Egnarshill.  Little more than an expanded 
  guard tower, Reguir serves as the town 
  council’s meeting place. 
    
  Population: Ilipur has about 2500 permanent 
  residents, mostly human. At any given time, 
  Ilipur has a similar number of visitors, 
  usually merchants and sailors.  
    
  Ruler: Hudrain Omailn, High Representative 
  of the Council 
    
  Who really rules:  Ilipur is officially run by a 
  town council, but in reality, the town is fully 
  dependent on the goodwill of Elversult. The 
  traders of Ilipur can run the town as a self-
  governed vassal, but they know fully well 
  that the real decisions are made by whoever 
  holds the lordship of Elversult in the larger 
  cases, and the smuggler bands in the 
  smaller. 
    
  Politics: Ilipur is a politician’s nightmare. 
  From its earliest days, the town has balanced 
  on a dagger’s edge, struggling to survive as 
  an independent settlement. Time has made it 
  impossible 
  to 
  remain 
  completely 
  independent, and the lords of Elversult have 
  by now made Ilipur a vassal in all but name. 
  High 
  Representative 
  Hudrain 
  and 
  his 
  predecessors have constantly tested the 
  patience of the larger city, but with the 
  increasing intrigues, the mood of the town is 
  growing ever tenser. Last year, Elversult sent 
  a clear message stating that if the council did 
  not cooperate, Elversian trading interests 
  may have to transfer over to the town of 
  Pros. 
   
  As the Sembian cell of the Cult of the Dragon 
  gains in power in the Dragonmere’s southern 
  coast, the town council has found itself 
  forced to choose between two evils, the 
  supremacy of Elversult or the sinister mages 
  and swordsmen of the Cult. 
    
  Products:  Ilipur produces little beyond fish, 
  tools and crafts; most of its agricultural 
  products 
  come 
  from 
  the 
  regions 
  near 
  Elversult. Ilipur’s economy is dominated by 
  facilitating trade to and from other regions, 
  and by supplying and maintaining ships. 
  Additionally, Ilipur can be said to be the 
  greatest exporter of waterborne smugglers 
  on this side of the Sea of Fallen Stars. 
    
  Imports: Most of the goods passing through 
  Ilipur are destined for the western markets. 
  Timber and coal from Cormyr are common, 
  as are cotton fabrics and grain from Sembia. 
  Old trade agreements prevent Ilipur from 
  taking part in the eastern trade of Westgate 
  and the weapons trade of Pros. 
    
  Defences: The law of Ilipur is enforced by 
  Dockmaster Hillashan Saltcloak and his ten 
  deputies. If any significant danger were to 
  threaten the town, Elversult would mobilise 
  to defend it. Elversult is also responsible for 
  guarding the road and backcountry between 
  the two urban areas, using a company of one 
  hundred Westar mercenary outriders to 
  perform this duty. The mercenaries are 
  capable 
  of 
  quick 
  mobilization, 
  and 
  are 
  prepared to defend Ilipur at short notice. 
    
  Wizards and Mages:  Rughill Jandoril and 
  Betrad Winding are lesser ship’s mages, 
  usually 
  employed 
  by 
  craftsmen 
  and 
  dockworkers. Amaela Shidrillia, an apprentice 
  of Usreena Juepara, is deeply involved in 
  Ilipur’s 
  smuggling 
  trade. 
  Some 
  of 
  her 
  activities are for her own benefit, and some 
  are by the command of her mistress.  
   
  Various 
  organizations 
  and 
  groups 
  have 
  agents in Ilipur, but these keep as low a 
  profile as possible; spellcasters working for 
  these groups do the same. 
    
  Temples: Ilipur is home to a small temple of 
  Istishia, and a small chapel to Mask can be 
  found near the docks. Both are manned by a 
  priest and a handful of faithful. Lathander, 
  Umberlee and Tymora also have shrines, but 
  any priests trying to man these on a 
  permanent basis mysteriously disappear. 
  Services at these shrines are only held when 
  a wandering priest comes through town. 
    
  
   
  41!
  Thieves 
  and 
  other 
  lawless 
  elements: 
  Throughout the lands of the Dragon Coast, it 
  is common knowledge that most inhabitants 
  of Ilipur are connected with the smugglers in 
  one way or another. Anyone with the gold to 
  spare can import or export anyone or 
  anything via the harbour. Because of this, 
  many 
  of 
  the 
  region’s 
  politically 
  active 
  individuals and groups have at least one 
  agent stationed in the town.  
   
  The local smugglers are a loose group of 
  independent businessmen that have always 
  stood together against threats to their way of 
  life, especially foreign darkcloaks or envoys 
  of the surrounding lands. Smuggling is a 
  family tradition in this area, and most 
  families have generations of experience. It is 
  common for thrill-seeking younger folk to 
  travel with smugglers for a handful of trips, 
  before going on to other kinds of work. In 
  Ilipur, there is no shame associated the 
  smuggling business.  
   
  Recently, 
  the 
  conflict 
  in 
  the 
  criminal 
  underworld has intensified. Sembian Cult of 
  the 
  Dragon 
  members, 
  under 
  Dhartot 
  Obrams, have begun infiltrating the town in 
  increasing 
  numbers, 
  and 
  are 
  trying 
  to 
  monopolize the smuggling business. This has 
  led to knifings and violence between the Cult 
  and the local smugglers, who have united 
  against the outside pressure. 
    
  Notable traders and craftsmen: Ilipur is more 
  a receiver of goods destined for other 
  markets than a manufacturer of its own 
  goods. This keeps the number of artisans and 
  craftsmen 
  relatively 
  small, 
  save 
  for 
  carpenters, sail makers, and others involved 
  in ship maintenance. Most of the city’s 
  exports are salted meat and leather from the 
  cattle areas west of Elversult. This is mainly 
  handled 
  by 
  the 
  representatives 
  of 
  the 
  Circlemoon trading company, and the locals 
  have little or no contact with this trade. 
   
  Caravans and transportation of goods from 
  Ilipur are handled by the Illmarinni caravan 
  company. Their local representative, Huldric 
  Szhaer, lives in a modest villa by Egnarshill, 
  on the west side of the bay.  
   
  The 
   
  carpenters 
  and 
  woodworkers 
  are 
  organized under Himrail Silvertree and his 
  family. There are seven master carpenters 
  and three master woodworkers, each with 
  two to four apprentices.  
   
  Most of Ilipur’s sail makers are in Hamranilla 
  Shaertas’s extended family, consisting of her 
  four men and twelve children.  
   
  The blacksmiths are not organized, and there 
  is sharp competition among them. The 
  Snarmall brothers and Vewallir Duhill are 
  commonly seen as the leaders among them. 
  Of all the smiths in the town, the only one 
  with the skill to work with steel or weapons is 
  Driwalntir Cuirna of Turmish. 
    
  Equipment and goods:  The town commonly 
  handles travellers starting their westward 
  journey to Elversult, Priapurl or Proskur. 
  Horses, camp equipment, and food are easily 
  found, 
  if 
  somewhat 
  overpriced. 
  More 
  specialized goods that the locals can not 
  manufacture must be acquired elsewhere. 
   
  The most prosperous industry in Ilipur is the 
  black market. Herbs, poisons, drugs, stolen 
  magic and fenced goods are readily available. 
  Even if the sought goods are not easy to 
  obtain, it is relatively easy to find someone 
  that can – for a price, of course – procure the 
  item in question. It should be noted that little 
  is secret in Ilipur, so those who desire 
  discretion should be extremely careful, or 
  should take their business elsewhere. 
    
  Attitude towards adventurers, wanderers and 
  such: Everybody is welcomed in Ilipur, as 
  long as they quickly leave for other lands and 
  other troubles. The town is used to being a 
  trading centre, but it is still a small town, and 
  the locals are suspicious of the unknown 
  people that decide to make their little corner 
  of the world a permanent base. This has 
  made the town somewhat divided between 
  the native-born and the newcomers, who 
  are, in the eyes of the natives, all spies 
  planning to intrude on their business and way 
  of life. The representatives of Elversult 
  learned long ago that the best way of 
  handling the town was to let the natives do 
  more or less as they please, and take their 
  own steps against problematic agents from 
  other lands. 
   
  
   
  42!
  For the traveller passing through, Ilipur has 
  many amenities. At the waterfront, you can 
  find 
  a 
  dozen 
  taverns 
  and 
  drinking 
  establishments of varying quality. These 
  range from dives to restaurants that will 
  make 
  a 
  Selgauntan 
  trader 
  nod 
  in 
  acknowledgement. Among the best taverns 
  are The Merman-hook and The Garden of 
  Semphar. The worst taverns include The 
  Gauntlet and Gull-tears Brew.  Further into 
  town, there are several taverns in the 
  winding streets, but these mainly cater to the 
  locals, and travellers are not welcomed. 
   
  The town has only one brothel of note, The 
  Happy Illithid. Run by Agmarata Rubyheart, 
  it is clean, professional and simple. Most of 
  the other ladies and gentlemen of the night 
  work out of private apartments and peddle 
  their business on the street outside. 
   
  Ilipur offers several choices to travellers 
  seeking a place to sleep. Druighar Goldcoam, 
  a dwarf of the Southlands, rents bunks in old 
  warehouses by the docks. Here a traveller 
  can securely store their belongings, but little 
  else is offered, except for a dry place to 
  sleep. The place is mostly used by sailors and 
  poor wanderers; if one wants to bring a 
  companion to this establishment, the price 
  doubles, no matter how short their stay. 
  Other prominent inns include The Elven Kiss 
  and The Dragon’s Eye. Both are of fair-to-
  moderate quality, and can be found just 
  outside of the town. On the top of Egnarshill 
  stands 
  Etara-tower, 
  an 
  expensive 
  and 
  comfortable inn that caters to the choosiest 
  and most well-off travellers. 
   
  Most people that know Ilipur choose to use 
  one of the two inns lying on the outskirts of 
  town. These inns have quite reasonable 
  prices and services, and are often used by 
  the caravan crews. Both are excellent spots 
  for catching up on rumors. 
    
  Other notable people: Ilsjarun Milliric is a 
  representative of the Circlemoon trading 
  company, and Elversult’s most important 
  agent in town. If the western city were to 
  intervene in Ilipur’s affairs, it would be at 
  Ilsjarun’s wish. 
   
  Cattarillasa, a sailor from the other side of 
  the Sea of Fallen Stars, is most well known 
  for his elaborate facial tattoos. He is an 
  unofficial representative of the pirates who 
  prey on the Dragonmere’s trade.  
   
  Chuldran Browless, a highway robber, has 
  lately found his work becoming increasingly 
  difficult, because of the influx of foreign 
  agents that take very badly to him disrupting 
  their transports. 
   
  Mirialia Wavescream, a travelling Umberlant, 
  visits the city every season to collect the 
  offerings left at the sea goddess’s shrine. 
   
  Nidraia 
  Shaelvir, 
  an 
  older 
  half-elf, 
  is 
  rumoured to be the area’s greatest expert on 
  the sea life of the Dragon Coast. 
   
  Sahiruil 
  Quezarnsmile, 
  a 
  moustachioed 
  smuggler, specialises in getting goods into 
  the heavily guarded ports of Cormyr. It is 
  rumoured that he also helps transport people 
  out of the country. 
   
  Ombraduda Boumland, the region’s premium 
  horse trader, is an elderly lady of Turmish 
  heritage. It is said that she has a great love 
  for horses and none for men. She is an old 
  acquaintance of the Lady Bloodsword of the 
  Mindulgulph mercenary company, and few 
  people dare to anger her these days. 
   
   
  Local customs, history and myths: Ilipur 
  started out as a guard post for the Proscurii 
  chief Mailliphir Falcon, who later founded the 
  town. About four centuries before the raising 
  of the Standing Stone, Mailliphir built a stone 
  tower to guard the eastern borders of his 
  land against pirates and the refugees starting 
  to trickle out of Netheril. 
   
  In time, the Tethyrian people lost control 
  over the western coast of the Dragon Sea to 
  the better organized Netherese, and the old 
  tribal lands were split up into city-states and 
  clan holdings. The end came with the Shoon 
  emperor’s forays in the third and fourth 
  centuries after the founding of the Dales. The 
  last chief of the Scornubii fell in the three-
  day battle against the Valasharian legions of 
  Ashar Tornam in the Year of the Drawstring 
  (333 DR). Only the interference of King 
  Azoun I of Cormyr, in the Year of the 
  Whipped Cur (336DR), kept the lands from 
  
   
  43!
  being placed under the banner of the 
  Shoonites. 
   
  The tower of Regnuir was abandoned, with 
  no local groups willing to maintain a garrison 
  there. The few fishermen that lived in the 
  area soon moved into the bay under the 
  tower, as the old building was easily 
  defended against bandits and monsters. The 
  tower of Regnuir proved its worth in the Year 
  of the Eversharp Axe (481DR). That year, the 
  pirate Guzdraeil allied with the remainders of 
  Myntharan 
  of 
  Westgate’s 
  mercenaries, 
  themselves recently crushed by the Winter 
  Sphinx Lyonarth. Despite their combined 
  strength, the tower withstood their assaults. 
  The tower was tested again when the giant 
  Smuldar of the Flaming Cloak terrorized the 
  area between the Year of the Sad Refrain 
  (733 DR) and the Year of the Netherese Lai 
  (740 DR).  
   
  By this time, many fishermen of the north 
  coast had started seeing the advantages of 
  the port. After these followed small trading 
  cogs from Marsember and the growing city of 
  Suzail. Many saw this as a chance to bypass 
  the stranglehold Westgate held on trade at 
  the time.  
   
  The old Scornubii had mostly settled inland, 
  concentrating on livestock and farming. The 
  settlement that would become known as 
  Ilipur was left in peace by it neighbours. This 
  allowed the town to evolve into its current 
  role as a trading harbour.  
    
  Modern folk of Ilipur are mostly of a mix of 
  Netherese and Chondathan blood. Some of 
  the more haughty families, such as the 
  Ilvirins, the owners of The Dragon’s Eye, 
  claim to be the descendants of the old 
  Proscurii or Netherese nobles. Among most 
  people, it is more common to look down on 
  the 
  inlanders 
  of 
  Tethyrian 
  descent, 
  something that has increased as Elversult’s 
  influence has grown. Some of the older 
  traditions, such as the yarthing players and 
  dancers 
  that 
  are 
  used 
  on 
  days 
  of 
  celebrations, continue to be popular. 
   
  Another local tradition is a celebration on the 
  fourth day of Mirtul, honouring Hugrain 
  Wineleafshill, a Cormyrian mercenary that 
  died trying to drive off Smuldar of the 
  Flaming Cloak. The histories say, incorrectly, 
  that Smuldar was killed on the slopes of 
  Egnarshill, but in reality no one knows what 
  happened to the wounded giant after the 
  fight with Hugrain. Though the holiday is 
  officially celebrated to honour the mercenary, 
  in truth, the festivities have little to do with 
  him – it is more of an excuse for joyful 
  merrymaking. 
    
  The town of Ilipur also has numerous myths 
  and stories about sunken ships and the 
  treasures of long-ago pirates. Several of the 
  inhabitants 
  earn 
  extra 
  coin 
  by 
  selling 
  “treasure maps” to travellers. This has been 
  going on for so long that “Ilipur maps” has 
  become 
  an 
  expression 
  throughout 
  the 
  Dragon Coast for dubious rumours and 
  stories. As none of the locals bear these 
  legends much faith, it is possible that one or 
  more of these may be correct and may lead 
  to unknown treasures.  
   
  The one story that the locals consider reliable 
  is the one about Smuldar burying his 
  treasure somewhere nearby before his battle 
  with Hugrain. As no one has found it, yet, 
  they seldom mention this story to strangers. 
   
  Ilipur’s reputation for half-truths and lies is 
  well known throughout the lands of the 
  Dragon Coast. The maps are not alone to 
  blame for this, as many newcomers spread 
  any number of false stories in an attempt to 
  confuse their rivals. This has almost become 
  an art form; tall tales and invented stories 
  have become a local hobby and sport in the 
  taverns. Some of the sharper minds of the 
  town have warned against this practice, as it 
  could lead to an increase of interest in the 
  town by halflings from the Sunset Vale. Is 
  the town of Ilipur really large enough to bear 
  the invasion of a hundred hin storytellers?   
   
    
  Hooks and Rumours 
    
  The giant Smuldar of the Flaming Cloak is 
  said to have come from the now mostly 
  forgotten fire giant kingdom north of the 
  Snakewood, where he was the last son of the 
  last keeper of the standing stones. It is 
  thought by some that the wounded giant 
  tried to get home after his fight with Hugrain, 
  but died on the way. If this rumour is true, 
  
   
  44!
  the giant’s treasure might hold hints to the 
  secrets of the ancient kingdom. 
    
  It is believed that Dhartot Obrams has been 
  trying to contact his masters in Sembia with 
  requests for aid against their enemies in the 
  town. Informants among the followers of the 
  Scaly Way have said that all magical means 
  of communications are being blocked by 
  some unknown source, and that Dhartot has 
  decided to risk a written message. Many 
  people would pay well to get their hands on 
  this document, both to get information on 
  the Cult and to find out about Dhartot’s 
  Sembian 
  master. 
  Ilipurian 
  locals 
  are 
  interested in stopping the document, to keep 
  reinforcements from the Cult from coming to 
  town. 
    
  There is trouble brewing in the town’s very 
  limited upper class. The Lady Mimbriia 
  Ilvirin’s daughter Thamaiia has decided that 
  she wants a traditional Tethyrian wedding. 
  This proposal that has enraged her future 
  mother-in-law, Jashiel Omailn, who considers 
  these traditions barbaric and lewd. Lady 
  Jashiel 
  has, 
  without 
  her 
  husband’s 
  knowledge, 
  started 
  investigating 
  the 
  traditions of the Tethyrians, hoping to find 
  proof of her claims. She will pay willingly for 
  any evidence of these people’s unseemly 
  ways. Both Zhentarim and Cult of Dragon 
  members are using this as an opportunity to 
  spread some mayhem, feeding her with false 
  horror stories. These stories may also leak 
  into the town at large. 
    
  News has recently spread that a shipment of 
  maxoris, a spice growing only in the southern 
  Storm Horns, has turned out to be infested 
  with raw mordayn powder. Already, there 
  have been three deaths in Urmlaspyr. It is 
  commonly believed that someone is trying to 
  weaken the smugglers’ credibility. Agents of 
  Cormyr have been suspected, but mordayn is 
  of southern make and quite expensive, 
  therefore not the logical method of poisoning 
  the shipment. 
   
  The smuggler delivering the maxoris, one 
  Amcarin Plowgrass, is well respected as 
  smugglers go. He claims that the shipment 
  was bought from the same sources he has 
  used for years. There may be an answer to 
  the mystery somewhere in the foothills of the 
  Storm Horns; several lone travellers and at 
  least one small caravan have disappeared, 
  with some signs indicating giants. Some of 
  the more superstitious old seadogs of the 
  docks have claimed that it is probably the 
  ghost of Smuldar of the Flaming Cloak, 
  coming back to haunt them.  
    
  Several exiled Cormyrian nobles have been 
  seen recently, and at least four of them have 
  been 
  granted 
  entrance 
  to 
  the 
  council 
  meetings in Regnuir castle. Some rumours 
  talk of large smuggling operations being 
  planned; others talk of the council being 
  bribed by the exiles, who plan to take over 
  the town. 
    
  The aarakocra of the Storm Horns have 
  recently been attacked by a group of 
  unknown mages.  A kenku scout named 
  Chrra-chee, a sometime resident of Ilipur, led 
  the mages to the aarakocran nesting areas. 
  The raiders escaped with eight eggs from the 
  birdmen’s nests, and were seen fleeing in the 
  direction of Ilipur. An envoy of the aarakocra 
  arrived in town about a week ago, and made 
  it clear that his people hold the town 
  collectively responsible for the theft. If the 
  eggs are not returned within two months, the 
  aarakocra will volunteer their services to the 
  Cormyrian navy. With a group of aerial 
  scouts, the illegal activities of the town will 
  be nearly impossible.  
   
  
   
  45!
   
   
  !
  Part III 
  By Chris Jameson 
   
   
  Of all the forms of government found in the Realms, perhaps none is as intriguing as Waterdeep’s 
  unique system. With the exception of a brief and tumultuous period, the City of Splendors has 
  been ruled by a hidden council of Lords for over three centuries. With one exception, Waterdeep’s 
  Lords have ruled fairly and justly, putting the needs and concerns of the city ahead of their own 
  desires. 
   
  Another of the unique qualities of the Lords is that they have been drawn from all walks of life. 
  Wizards, nobles, merchants and common laborers have all served as Lords. Lordship is not 
  restricted by race; though most Lords have been human, there have also been elven, half-elven, 
  and halfling Lords. 
   
  The citizens of Waterdeep believe they are ruled by sixteen Lords. However, the number was 
  secretly increased to twenty in 1364, after an ex-Harper caused considerable turmoil within the 
  city. City of Splendors: Waterdeep (pages 52-55) lists the following individuals as Lords: Open 
  Lord Piergeiron the Paladinson, Brian the Swordmaster, Caladorn Cassalanter, Durnan the 
  Wanderer, Mirt the Moneylender, Larissa Neathal, Khelben “Blackstaff” Arunsun, Nymara “Kitten” 
  Scheiron, Sammareza Sulphontis, Texter, Kyriani Agrivar, Brianne Byndraeth, and Nindil Jalbuck. 
  Ed Greenwood’s short story “A Slow Day in Skullport”, found in Realms of the Underdark, listed 
  Mirt’s lady Asper as another Lord of Waterdeep. The Siege, the second book of the Return of the 
  Archwizards trilogy, named another Lord, Deliah the White. 
   
  With fifteen of the twenty Lords named, Dungeon Masters are free to create their own Lords, 
  filling their own needs. Here is one possible Lord DMs can use. Following the tradition of past 
  Waterdhavian supplements, only a minimal stat block is given. 
   
  Taethen Caliel 
  Taethen Caliel/Elios Bivaehl  
  Male Chondathan Human, Warrior 12 
   
  History:  
   
  he boy who would grow up 
  to be Taethen Caliel was 
  born under a different name, 
  more than thirty summers 
  ago. Elios Bivaehl was born 
  to 
  Algren 
  Bivaehl, 
  a 
  prominent 
  Mistran 
  merchant, and Sadeira Winsal, a half-elven 
  ranger. Born into a moderately wealthy home 
  in the peaceful town of Ashabenford, Elios’s 
  early life was happy and free from worry. 
   
  A bright and cheerful lad, Elios was also 
  gifted with loving, generous parents, who 
  saw to it that he received a good education. 
  Though he had several mentors, instructing 
  him in a variety of fields, his favorite teacher 
  was a retired ranger named Valan Serra. A 
  skilled woodsman and a devout follower of 
  Mielikki, Valan had also taught Elios’s mother 
  Sadeira her woodslore. Elios readily learned 
  skills valuable to surviving in the forest, but 
  he never developed the ranger’s affinity for 
  animals, as both Valan and Sadeira had 
  hoped 
  he 
  would. 
  He 
  was 
  comfortable 
  spending time amongst the trees, and his 
  ability as an archer was discovered at an 
  early age, but the ranger’s calling eluded 
  him. 
   
  
   
  46!
  Not only did he develop a remarkable degree 
  of skill with the bow and arrow, he also 
  showed promise as a bowyer and fletcher. 
  Elios knew that his training would prove 
  useful when he grew up. Though he was torn 
  between being a professional bowyer or 
  joining the famed Riders of Mistledale, he 
  knew he could succeed at either one.  
   
  Sadeira only wanted her son to be happy. 
  She didn’t care which path he chose, so long 
  as he was happy walking it. Algren felt much 
  the same way, though he did try to push his 
  son into the more sedentary profession. 
  Algren had taken over the business from his 
  father, and it was his desire to pass it on to 
  Elios. 
   
  Another of Elios’s primary interests was 
  listening to tales of heroism and valor. 
  Whether from books, passing bards, or his 
  own imagination, Elios could easily lose 
  himself in epic tales of battle between good 
  and evil. Though his elven blood was not 
  apparent, he was particularly interested in 
  tales of elves and the wonders they had 
  fashioned. Sadeira had learned many of 
  these stories in her own youth, and greatly 
  enjoyed indulging her son’s interest in his 
  elvish heritage. 
   
  Midway through his teenage years, Elios’s 
  world turned upside-down. Sadeira died 
  suddenly, 
  sent 
  to 
  Kelemvor’s 
  halls 
  by 
  heartstop. She had seemed hale and hearty 
  that 
  morning, 
  but 
  that 
  afternoon, 
  she 
  unexpectedly lapsed into unconsciousness. 
  By the time a cleric had been summoned, 
  Algren was a widower and Elios had lost his 
  mother. 
   
  As hard as his mother’s death hit Elios, in 
  some ways, it hit Algren even harder. When 
  he lost his wife, something inside Algren died 
  with her. Once affable, jovial and generous, 
  Algren 
  became 
  sullen, 
  withdrawn, 
  and 
  miserly. Money, and its acquisition, became 
  more important to him than anything else, 
  including Elios. 
   
  Algren’s new-found greed was not going to 
  be sated living in Mistledale. He decided to 
  leave Mistledale and return to his birthplace, 
  Hillsfar. It was a grimmer and less-friendly 
  place, but Algren knew firsthand the money 
  he could make there. Ignoring his son’s 
  protests, Algren packed up their belongings, 
  dismissed the servants and mentors, and 
  took his son to Hillsfar. 
   
  Elios was miserable in the City of Trade. He 
  still lived in a comfortable home, but Algren 
  was no longer willing to indulge in such 
  “pointless” things as hiring bards for their 
  tales, or buying books of elvish lore. The 
  xenophobic nature of Hillsfar’s residents felt 
  oppressive to Elios. Though he knew his 
  elvish blood wasn’t apparent, he still worried 
  about its discovery, and he sorely missed 
  learning about elvish lore. His hopes of 
  becoming a bowyer or a Rider of Mistledale 
  were also dashed; Algren had decided that 
  his son would follow in his footsteps, 
  regardless of any wishes to the contrary.  
   
  For young Elios, the next several years 
  seemed 
  to 
  pass 
  interminably. 
  He 
  was 
  assuming more and more responsibility for 
  his father’s business, and the constant 
  demands of the work took much of his free 
  time. What little spare time he had he spent 
  practicing his archery. He had little time to 
  cultivate friendships, and his life before 
  coming to Hillsfar left him feeling like an 
  outsider in his new home. Living in a cold 
  home, in an unfriendly city, Elios began 
  feeling a growing desire to set off on his own, 
  and leave the entire Moonsea behind him. 
   
  Despite his desire to leave Hillsfar, Elios 
  wasn’t really planning to leave any time 
  soon. He had vague plans to do so, but he 
  also realized that he was inexperienced, and 
  he wasn’t sure if he should return to 
  Mistledale or go someplace new. He wanted 
  to leave, but he wasn’t sure where to go, 
  how to get there, or how to stay alive while 
  en route. Elios was miserable, but he also 
  knew he was relatively safe. 
   
  Things might have continued this way for 
  several more years, had the Company of the 
  Crimson 
  Dagger 
  not 
  entered 
  Hillsfar. 
  Consisting of five humans and an elf, the 
  Company was en route to Cormanthor when 
  they stopped in Hillsfar to gather provisions 
  and information. Knowing of Hillsfar’s dark 
  reputation for racism, the adventurers wisely 
  kept a low profile. They weren’t careful 
  enough, however, for Algren’s eyes were 
  
   
  47!
  sharp enough to recognize that the cloaked 
  female was an elf. He quickly reported their 
  presence to the Red Plumes, and the 
  adventurers were arrested. 
   
  When he learned of his father’s actions, Elios 
  was furious. He knew that his father would 
  have once been willing and eager to help 
  people of any race. Now that darkness had 
  claimed Algren, he was willing to sell out 
  people to whom his son felt a sort of kinship. 
  All of his doubts and indecision vanished in 
  an instant, as Elios resolved to help the 
  adventurers escape.  
   
  Acting quickly, he raided his father’s coffers 
  for money. He bribed several guards into 
  looking the other way as he helped the 
  adventurers escape. Though at least one 
  guard had planned to betray Elios, the young 
  man had been careful to spread around 
  enough gold to ensure that other guards 
  would stay bought. Escaping into the city 
  with the Company, Elios led them to one of 
  his father’s warehouses, where he helped 
  them hide. 
   
  Leaving the warehouse, Elios returned home. 
  He confronted his father, accusing Algren of 
  betraying Sadeira’s memory. Elios told his 
  father about helping the adventurers escape, 
  and readily admitted to stealing the elder 
  merchant’s money to do it. As Elios spoke, 
  his own anger showing forth, Algren became 
  enraged at his son’s actions. 
   
  The two came to blows. Father and son 
  fought each other, greed and rage battling 
  youthful ideals and years of resentment. 
  Though young and fit, Elios found that his 
  father was larger and stronger. The younger 
  man had to admit defeat, fleeing his father’s 
  home, bruised and battered from their 
  confrontation. 
   
  Recognizing his sacrifice, the Company of the 
  Crimson Dagger took Elios with them when 
  they left the city the next day. Posing as 
  mercenary guards, they were able leave the 
  City of Trade behind, and head for friendlier 
  areas beyond the reach of Zhents and Red 
  Plumes. The Company made for Shadowdale, 
  intending to winter there before braving the 
  deeps forests of Cormanthor. 
   
  The party’s cleric, the moon elf Shaliri 
  Araveyn, healed Elios’s physical wounds. But 
  Corellon’s grace wasn’t enough to heal Elios’s 
  emotional wounds. Touched by what he had 
  done and what he had gone through, Shaliri 
  found herself drawn to the young man. 
  Taking it upon herself to help Elios cope with 
  his feelings, the priestess became Elios’s 
  constant companion. She rode beside him as 
  they traveled, and when the group made 
  camp, 
  the 
  two 
  often 
  engaged 
  in 
  conversations long into the night.  
   
  During one such conversation, Elios bitterly 
  complained that his father’s actions had 
  made him ashamed of his own name. After a 
  moment’s consideration, Shaliri suggested 
  that maybe Elios should take a new name. 
  Choosing a different name, she reasoned, 
  would not only distance Elios from his father, 
  it would also reflect that he’d left his old life 
  behind, and started a new one. 
   
  Elios thought long and hard about this. While 
  he agreed that a different name was a good 
  idea, choosing the ideal name was an entirely 
  different matter. 
  After 
  several 
  days 
  of 
  contemplation, he had chosen his new name: 
  Taethen Caliel. It was not a random name; 
  though Elios had been born after the elflord’s 
  death, his mother Sadeira had told Elios 
  many tales about her father. By choosing his 
  grandfather’s name, the young man honored 
  his past, his mother, and his elven heritage. 
  Elios Bivaehl, son of Algren Bivaehl the 
  merchant, was no more. Now Taethen Caliel, 
  descendent of a noble elf, walked in his 
  place. 
   
  By the time the Company of the Crimson 
  Dagger reached Shadowdale, it came as no 
  surprise to the other adventurers that Shaliri 
  and the newly-named Taethen had become 
  lovers. As Auril’s cloak settled across the 
  Dales, the young lovers were inseparable. 
  The two spent a considerable amount of time 
  in their room at the Old Skull Inn, but also 
  frequented several of the area’s other quiet 
  spots, particularly Watcher’s Knoll and the 
  area around the Millpond. 
   
  Shaliri was not the only member of the 
  Crimson Dagger to take an interest in the 
  group’s newest member. The Company was 
  led by Gonril Eseldin, a paladin of Tyr hailing 
  
   
  48!
  from Suzail. As did the other members of the 
  Crimson Dagger, Gonril took a liking to 
  Taethen. While the paladin was impressed by 
  Taethen’s skill with the bow, he was aghast 
  at how unskilled the young man was in basic 
  swordplay. 
  Whenever 
  Gonril 
  could 
  pry 
  Taethen away from Shaliri, he took the 
  young man to a secluded area, where the 
  two could practice their bladework.  
   
  Though not as interested in swordplay as he 
  was in archery, Taethen still proved to be an 
  able student. His skills were no match for 
  Gonril’s, but he learned enough to be able to 
  fight effectively with swords or daggers. 
  Gonril was pleased with the young man’s 
  improvement.  
   
  When 
  spring 
  reclaimed 
  the 
  land, 
  the 
  Company 
  of 
  the 
  Crimson 
  Dagger 
  left 
  Shadowdale, 
  entering 
  the 
  woods 
  of 
  Cormanthor. For the next several months, 
  the group explored the area around the fallen 
  City of Song, occasionally entering Myth 
  Drannor itself. The group found considerable 
  amounts of gold and magic, but their stated 
  goal – finding the armor of  Candos Eseldin, 
  a paladin and ancestor of Gonril, who had 
  fallen during the city’s final days – eluded 
  them. 
   
  Spring gave way to summer. Summer drew 
  to a close, and the colors of autumn began 
  appearing in the trees. The Company was 
  preparing to return to Shadowdale for 
  another winter when they met an unexpected 
  ally. A group of elven adventurers, entering 
  Myth Drannor to search for lost elven 
  artifacts, had fallen prey to the fiends that 
  stalked the city. The only survivor was Eryllia 
  Tassaniel, a moon elf wizard. Fleeing the city, 
  Eryllia stumbled into the Company’s camp by 
  sheer chance.  
   
  A more startling coincidence was the fact 
  that Eryllia 
  and 
  Shaliri 
  were 
  childhood 
  friends. The two had grown up together on 
  Evermeet, and their families were closely 
  allied 
  with 
  each 
  other. 
  Despite 
  the 
  circumstances, 
  Eryllia 
  and 
  Shaliri 
  were 
  overjoyed at their reunion. 
   
  The group returned to Shadowdale to spend 
  the winter. Eryllia and Shaliri renewed their 
  friendship, and the wizard became a constant 
  companion to both Shaliri and Taethen. She 
  became a welcome part of Shaliri and 
  Taethen’s relationship, much to the latter’s 
  surprise and pleasure. With the exception of 
  Eryllia’s addition, the winter passed much as 
  the one before had. 
   
  When spring returned, the Company of the 
  Crimson Dagger once more returned to 
  Cormanthor. 
  Again 
  they 
  spent 
  several 
  months exploring the area and seeking 
  Candos Eseldin’s armor. As summer waned, 
  they began to speak of abandoning the quest 
  as a lost cause – too much time had passed 
  to easily find a specific defender’s remains. 
  As Eleasias  passed, the group decided to 
  forego their quest and return to Shadowdale 
  early. However, the group would never 
  reached Cormanthor’s edge.  
   
  Tymora’s favor abandoned the Company: 
  they were ambushed by fiends from Myth 
  Drannor. A running battle ensued, with the 
  Company turned away from the safety of 
  Shadowdale and sent deeper into the woods. 
  A single, powerful fiend stalked the party for 
  days, allowing them little chance for rest as 
  they fought to survive. One by one, the 
  members of the Company of the Crimson 
  Dagger fell, until only the three newest 
  members were left: Taethen, Shaliri, and 
  Eryllia.  
   
  Tymora’s favor then returned to the trio. 
  They stumbled through an ancient portal, 
  and 
  found 
  themselves 
  somewhere 
  in 
  Cormanthor’s western reaches. They were 
  free from pursuit, but lost deep within the 
  forest. With winter approaching, their options 
  were few. 
   
  An abandoned elven dwelling, formed within 
  the trunk of a living tree, proved to be their 
  salvation. The three lovers took shelter in the 
  magically-formed 
  rooms, 
  calling 
  it 
  “the 
  Forgotten Home.” Though not large, it was 
  spacious 
  enough 
  for 
  the 
  trio 
  to 
  live 
  comfortably, and it was concealed so well 
  that non-elven passers-by could pass within 
  feet of the tree and not realize it was 
  inhabited. A nearby swiftly flowing stream 
  provided 
  their 
  water, 
  and 
  Taethen’s 
  woodslore enabled him to hunt for food. 
  Between Taethen’s skills, Eryllia’s arcane 
  magic, and Shaliri’s clerical magic, the three 
  
   
  49!
  were able to spend a peaceful winter under 
  Cormanthor’s boughs.  
   
  Springtime was nearing when the visions 
  began. Shaliri had the first vision, dreaming 
  of a single white staff, glowing in the 
  darkness. After several days, Eryllia and 
  Taethen 
  began 
  having 
  similar 
  visions. 
  Comparing the details of their visions, the 
  three discovered that they had all seen the 
  same thing. When Corellon’s symbol began 
  appearing in the visions the trio shared, it 
  became obvious they had been chosen to 
  find the mysterious staff. 
   
  As the snow melted and songbirds returned 
  to the trees, the visions became more 
  detailed. 
  The 
  dreams 
  revealed 
  various 
  details, like the altar the staff rested upon, 
  the beljurils set into the walls, and the 
  shadowy presence of the staff’s baelnorn 
  guardian. Despite the increasing details and 
  frequency of the visions, it was not clear 
  where the staff could be found.  
   
  Corellon’s next manifestation came in the 
  form 
  of 
  three 
  crescent-shaped 
  stones, 
  pointing in a straight line along a northeast-
  southwest axis. Reasoning that the lost staff 
  would be deeper in Cormanthor, the elves 
  and human set off on Corellon’s quest. 
  Guided by the occasional appearance of the 
  crescent-shaped stones, their path led them 
  across the River Ashaba, past the Vale of 
  Lost Voices, and into the heart of the Elven 
  Court.  
   
  They almost met disaster in the Elven Court. 
  A group of Auzkovyn drow captured the trio, 
  leading them back to their temporary camp. 
  The drow intended to keep the elven women 
  for breeding purposes, and chose to torture 
  Taethen for sport. Their quest would have 
  been over, had a group of gnolls not found 
  the drow camp. As the two groups fought 
  each other, Taethen, Shaliri, and Eryllia 
  managed to escape. Once they were away 
  from the drow camp, Shaliri used her healing 
  magic on Taethen. Though healed of his 
  wounds, some magical effect kept the 
  curative magic from fully repairing the 
  damage to Taethen’s throat. His once-deep 
  voice became scratchy and rough; Taethen 
  has since learned to compensate by speaking 
  softly and infrequently. 
  Free of the drow and once more on their 
  quest, it wasn’t long before the trio found the 
  ruins of an elven tower. Gray-green stones 
  lay tumbled about a small clearing, while 
  walls barely three feet high hinted at the 
  structure that once stood taller than the 
  trees. Tiny runes, still sharp and clear despite 
  centuries of weathering, decorated many of 
  the fallen stones. Other stones were carved 
  with a pattern of ivory leaves surrounding a 
  crescent moon. Clearly, the tower had once 
  been a magnificent structure.  
   
  It took nearly a week of searching to find 
  their way into the below-ground levels of the 
  tower, still intact despite the destruction of 
  the tower above. As they explored the 
  tunnels, a bewildering variety of fearsome 
  beasts rose up to challenge them. Each time, 
  a brilliant white light would shine forth from 
  Shaliri’s holy symbol, and the guardian would 
  fade into mist.  
   
  Despite the easily-vanquished challenges, it 
  still took nearly three days for the group to 
  find 
  their 
  way 
  to 
  the 
  heart 
  of 
  the 
  underground complex. There stood the final 
  guardian – the baelnorn they’d seen in their 
  visions.  
   
  “It is time,” the ancient elven guardian said. 
  “It is the will of the Coronal of Arvandor that 
  Athaeryndil, the Whitestaff, be returned to 
  the mortal realms.” 
   
  With that statement, the undead elf bowed 
  and faded from sight, leaving unguarded the 
  chamber beyond. Stepping into the room, the 
  trio at last saw the room that had been in 
  their dreams.  
   
  It was a simple domed chamber, barely 
  twenty feet wide. The walls were covered 
  with a glossy black material, as dark as a 
  moonless night. Precious gems studded the 
  walls, each one marking the place of a star in 
  the 
  sky 
  above. 
  Twinkling 
  beljurils 
  represented the stars and constellations 
  precious 
  to 
  the 
  elves, 
  silently 
  drawing 
  attention to themselves while still enhancing 
  the simple beauty of the room. 
   
  The altar was a simple affair. Three feet wide 
  by four feet long, it was carved from a single 
  block of marble. The holy symbols of the 
  
   
  4:!
  deities of the Seldarine were engraved into 
  sides of the altar, each given just a hint of 
  color to make them more visible. Freshly 
  picked wildflowers, incongruous so deep 
  underground, were scattered across the top 
  of the altar.  
   
  Laying atop the altar was the white staff from 
  their visions. It too was simple, yet elegantly 
  beautiful. Fashioned from an unknown type 
  of wood, it was a pale white color, with hints 
  of 
  gold 
  and 
  green 
  appearing 
  and 
  disappearing in the light. The wood was 
  smooth to the touch, but irregularly shaped, 
  like the bough of a tree. The butt of the staff 
  was 
  capped 
  with 
  silver, 
  gleaming 
  and 
  untarnished. At the top of the staff, the wood 
  cradled 
  a 
  smooth 
  green 
  gemstone; 
  it 
  appeared as if the wood had grown around 
  the gem as it rested atop the bough. Just 
  below the stone, a ring of golden runes 
  encircled the staff.  
   
  Only Eryllia recognized the staff. In her 
  studies of magical artifacts, she had focused 
  on items of elven make that had been lost to 
  time. Athaeryndil was one of the greatest of 
  these; legend said that the Whitestaff was 
  one of the few remaining items that had 
  accompanied the elves in their flight from 
  Faerie. Whether or not the legends were 
  true, it was known that Athaeryndil aided in 
  the casting of High Magic, and was a valuable 
  aid 
  to 
  the 
  spellcasting 
  of 
  any 
  mage. 
  Athaeryndil had last been seen in the Elven 
  Court, nearly two centuries before the Dales 
  Compact and the raising of the Standing 
  Stone.  
   
  After some discussion, the lovers agreed that 
  the Whitestaff needed to be returned to the 
  elven 
  people. 
  Using 
  magic 
  to 
  cloak 
  Athaeryndil’s appearance and magical aura, 
  the 
  three 
  began 
  the 
  long 
  journey 
  to 
  Waterdeep. Their passage was swift and 
  unhindered; it seemed the favor of the 
  Seldarine was still upon them. Two months 
  after finding the Whitestaff, the trio entered 
  Waterdeep. 
   
  Eryllia’s father, Lord Paerdryn Tassaniel, was 
  a frequent visitor to the City of Splendors. He 
  had several friends and agents in Waterdeep, 
  and a considerable amount of his family’s 
  fortune came from shipping goods between 
  Waterdeep and Evermeet. It took little effort 
  for Eryllia to arrange passage to the Green 
  Isle on one of her father’s ships, though the 
  elven crew was leery about bringing a human 
  to their homeland. She convinced the captain 
  and crew that Taethen would be welcomed 
  on Evermeet, and the next day, the Dancing 
  Hart set sail, taking the elven women and 
  their lover home. 
   
  Neither Eryllia nor Shaliri had sent word to 
  Evermeet of their journey, nor had they 
  spoken to anyone about having reclaimed 
  Athaeryndil from the ruins beneath the Elven 
  Court. Yet word of their passage had 
  somehow preceded them. When the Dancing 
  Hart came within sight of Leuthilspar, the 
  ship’s passengers and crew were astounded 
  to see a large crowd awaiting their arrival. 
  Even more amazing, Queen Amlaruil herself 
  stood at the forefront of the crowd. 
   
  As the trio disembarked from the ship, the 
  illusions 
  that 
  had 
  masked 
  Athaeryndil’s 
  appearance fell away. Surrounded by a 
  glowing nimbus of energy, the Whitestaff 
  gently slipped out of Eryllia’s hands and 
  floated into Queen Amlaruil’s waiting hands. 
   
  “As was foretold, Athaeryndil has returned to 
  Evermeet!” 
  Amlaruil 
  proclaimed 
  to 
  the 
  watching 
  crowd. 
  “These 
  three, 
  Eryllia 
  Tassaniel, Shaliri Araveyn, and Taethen Caliel 
  were guided to its hidden location by Corellon 
  Larethian himself! The baelnorn Vaenamir 
  bowed 
  to 
  these 
  three 
  before 
  at 
  last 
  answering Arvandor’s call, for he knew the 
  Whitestaff would finally return to Evermeet. 
   
  “It is with great joy that we welcome Eryllia 
  and Shaliri to their home. And it is with open 
  arms that we greet Taethen Caliel, and name 
  him Sha’Quessir for his efforts in behalf of 
  the People.” 
   
  The crowd cheered in excitement. Taethen 
  was nearly overwhelmed at the enthusiastic 
  approval of the Queen’s words. During the 
  journey, he’d worried about the reception 
  that a human would receive on Evermeet; 
  now he found himself surrounded by friendly 
  smiles and heartfelt greetings. 
   
  The celebration lasted for days. After its 
  conclusion, Eryllia and Shaliri spent weeks 
  
   
  51!
  showing Taethen around the island. With its 
  flowing crystal buildings and deep forests, 
  the beauty of the island captivated the young 
  man. Friendly faces greeted him everywhere; 
  no matter where he went, it seemed 
  everyone already knew of his part in finding 
  the Whitestaff. He was also free to indulge in 
  his 
  fascination 
  with 
  elven 
  history 
  and 
  heritage; several scholars took it upon 
  themselves to make sure Taethen was well-
  educated about elven accomplishments. 
   
  The three might have remained on Evermeet 
  indefinitely; they were all happy there, and 
  had little need to return to Faerûn. But then 
  Queen Amlaruil sent for them.  
   
  All three were welcome to stay on the island 
  as long as they wished, she explained. 
  However, she had need of trustworthy agents 
  on the mainland. They could return to the 
  island at any time, but they could also 
  further serve the needs of the People by 
  returning to the mainland and aiding the 
  elves that had not answered the call to 
  Retreat. After some discussion, the three 
  agreed to return to Waterdeep, where they 
  would settle. From the City of Splendors, 
  they would aid those traveling to and from 
  Evermeet, as well as serve as contacts for 
  Amlaruil’s other agents.  
   
  The three returned to Waterdeep, where they 
  used funds provided by Queen Amlaruil to 
  buy a home on Delzorin Street in the North 
  Ward. It is their intention, as time and 
  money 
  allow, 
  to 
  buy 
  several 
  nearby 
  buildings, 
  combining 
  them 
  into 
  a 
  villa 
  surrounded by trees.  
   
  Since arriving in Waterdeep, all three have 
  become heavily involved in elven affairs. In 
  addition to aiding Amlaruil’s agents, each has 
  found their own ways to involve themselves 
  with Waterdeep’s elven populace. Shaliri 
  serves at the Elven Pantheon temple, seeing 
  to the spiritual needs of Waterdeep’s elves. 
  Eryllia serves as a sage and spellcaster for 
  hire for elves; she also keeps a sharp eye out 
  for any elven items that are now in human 
  hands. Taethen helps Eryllia with the latter 
  task; he also acts as a guide in the city and 
  nearby areas, helping elves travel to places 
  they need to reach. All three have become 
  well-known to the city’s elves, and to those 
  who observe elven affairs. 
   
  When Danilo Thann resigned his position as a 
  Lord of Waterdeep, he requested that he be 
  replaced with someone who would champion 
  the needs of the People in Waterdeep. When 
  Kyriani Agrivar was granted a Lordship, it 
  was expected that she would be a suitable 
  candidate for this purpose. She did try, but 
  she was not, by nature, well-suited to the 
  task. Further, her heritage as a half-elf was 
  frequently held against her by some elves. 
  Rather than fight a loosing battle, Kyri 
  nominated 
  for 
  Lordship 
  someone 
  she’d 
  already recommended many elves contact for 
  aid: Taethen Caliel. As an agent of Queen 
  Amlaruil 
  and 
  an 
  Elf-Friend 
  with 
  many 
  connections among Waterdeep’s elves, Kyri 
  thought him a much more suitable choice. 
  The 
  other 
  Lords 
  agreed, 
  and 
  Taethen 
  assumed the Lordship formerly held by 
  Deliah the White. 
   
   
  Current Status 
   
  Taethen is something of a loner among the 
  Lords. While he respects and gets along with 
  all of the Lords, Kyriani is the only one to 
  whom he feels any real connection. If he is 
  undecided on an issue, he tends to defer first 
  to Kyri and then to Piergeiron, whom he 
  greatly respects. Taethen does have the best 
  interests of the city at heart, but focuses the 
  greater amount of his energies towards 
  issues that concern or benefit elves. 
   
  Taethen’s fellow Lords respect him, though 
  some 
  have 
  been 
  known 
  to 
  become 
  exasperated at his focus on elves. Taethen’s 
  ability to take the long view is particularly 
  appreciated, as is his ability to resolve large 
  issues by applying careful pressure in just 
  one or two small areas. Both of these traits 
  come from his archer training and from the 
  tales he learned as a child, but they continue 
  to serve him well. 
   
  Though it took him some time to earn it, 
  Taethen has a considerable amount of 
  influence among Waterdeep’s elves. His 
  status as an agent of Queen Amlaruil created 
  some of the influence, but the greater part of 
  his influence was earned when he was 
  
   
  52!
  instrumental 
  in 
  thwarting 
  the 
  Sunfall 
  Conspiracy, a plot that would have slain 
  many elves and brought ruination to the rest.  
   
   
  Appearance and Personality 
   
  Little 
  about 
  Taethen’s 
  appearance 
  is 
  remarkable. He is of medium height, with a 
  slender yet muscular build. His eyes are 
  brown, and his hair, which he keeps trimmed 
  short, is very dark. Taethen’s jaw is heavy 
  and prominent, and regardless of the time of 
  day, his face is usually darkened by the 
  shadow of a beard.  
   
  Taethen’s preferred attire is the loose-fitting 
  garb of a woodsman. He favors shades of 
  brown and green, though he is occasionally 
  seen wearing gray or soft blue clothing. 
  Regardless of what other colors he is 
  wearing, Taethen always wears a bit of blue, 
  though it may not be obvious. He does this to 
  honor his mother, whose favorite color was 
  blue. He also wears a ring of silver and 
  moonstone, an item his mother passed down 
  to him from the original Taethen Caliel.  
   
  The damage done to Taethen’s throat in the 
  Elven Court has left him soft-spoken. He 
  speaks little, preferring to use as few words 
  as possible. Taethen does not rush into any 
  situation if he can avoid it; he will instead 
  stay back and try to fully examine the 
  situation before acting. He is also quite 
  observant, noticing the small details that 
  most others miss. His observational abilities, 
  coupled with his tendency to analyze the 
  situation before acting, are what enable him 
  to resolve large issues with little force. As 
  Valan Serra often told him, “One individual 
  arrow can stop an army, if the right target is 
  selected.” 
   
  Though 
  Taethen 
  knows 
  his 
  mission 
  in 
  Waterdeep is important, he still finds the 
  hustle and frantic pace of city life to be 
  uncomfortable. About every other month, he 
  tries to get out of the city for at least a week. 
  The grove that Taethen, Eryllia, and Shaliri 
  intend to grow should help with this, but in 
  the meantime, he has to find freedom 
  beyond the city walls.  
   
  Taethen enjoys music, and has been a patron 
  of many bards since coming to the City of 
  Splendors. He also loves to read, and will 
  read just about anything he can find, from 
  dusty histories of far away lands to the most 
  lurid chapbooks published every week in 
  Waterdeep. Eryllia and Shaliri often tease 
  him about his reading habits, even as they 
  buy more books for him. 
   
  !
   
   
  Author’s Note: Taethen Caliel was born about three and a half years ago, while I was unemployed. A friend suddenly 
  decided that he needed to make sure his Star Wars Galaxies character was still around, despite the fact that he didn’t have 
  an internet connection. He brought his computer to my apartment, then left it for several months. During that time, I 
  played the game an hour or two each day. I eventually grew bored with it, and stopped playing when I found a job. But I 
  liked the idea of my character, and decided to make a D&D version. Taethen’s skill in archery came from my SWG 
  character’s tendency to take careful, long shots against enemies, rather than entering melee. 
   
  Eryllia was originally intended to be the Lord of Waterdeep who concerned herself with elves. I decided early on, purely 
  because it felt right, that she and Shaliri were lovers. However, I later decided I didn’t want a full-blooded elf as Lord in a 
  city of primarily humans. Not having anything to do with Taethen, I decided to use him in this capacity – thus I added the 
  elven blood and the connection with Shaliri and Eryllia (which also kept them in the picture). Athaeryndil was dreamed up 
  simply to give Taethen a way to become an Elf-Friend.  
   
  The Hillsfar angle came from Mysteries of the Moonsea; reading the description of the city gave me the last thing I needed 
  to make Taethen’s story work.  
   
  The reason for his name change was because the original SWG name was simply too ridiculous to work in the Realms. I 
  originally intended to use it as an assumed name, but decided to toss it aside in favor of something more Realms-ish and 
  elven-sounding. 
  
   
  53!
  !
  Part I 
  By Danyel Woods 
   
  A treatise on the nature and society of this sub-race of gnolls, also known as ‘Reavers’ or 
  hahlorkh, who dwell in the Underdark; compiled by Susprina Arkhenneld of Shadowdale, sorceress 
  and apprentice of Elminster, from various sources. 
   
  * * * * 
   
  ost esteemed Vangerdahast 
  of Cormyr, Royal Magician to 
  his Majesty Azoun Obarskyr 
  IV, I offer you greetings and 
  blessings in the names of my 
  teacher 
  Elminster 
  of 
  Shadowdale and of Mystra, 
  the goddess we three all serve.  I fear my 
  hand is more accustomed to writing in my 
  own language than in Chondathan, but ’tis I 
  who holds the greater share of the lore which 
  was requested of my teacher, and thus ’tis I 
  who must impart it. 
   
  As you may be aware, these ‘deep gnolls’ 
  first openly revealed themselves to human 
  eyes in the Year of the Harp, when a small 
  war-group in the pay of Zhentil Keep fell 
  upon a company of Red Plumes during the 
  first skirmishes of the civil war in Yûlash, 
  slaying many of Maalthiir’s men and putting 
  the rest to flight.  At first, they were 
  dismissed as creatures of the Lower Realms, 
  fiends 
  summoned 
  by 
  the 
  magics 
  of 
  Zhentarim 
  wizards. 
   
  However, 
  certain 
  members of my race and faith who had come 
  to the surface long before then knew of them 
  well – having passed through their city, 
  Godsvault, en route to the surface – and they 
  were 
  much 
  alarmed 
  to 
  hear 
  of 
  them 
  appearing aboveground in such fashion.  
  Realising 
  their 
  need 
  for 
  more 
  recent 
  knowledge of the breed and their doings, 
  they sought my cooperation in seeking it. 
   
  Matron Phyrdril Deghym’lyl, of the surface 
  enclave known as Sreen’aur, chose a small 
  band of her retainers to enter the Underdark 
  and visit the hahlorkh city in the guise of 
  traders from Dusklyngh, to learn all they 
  could of the deep gnolls’ current situation 
  and plans.  However, while the party included 
  the warriors and priestesses necessary for 
  such a deception, they could not spare a 
  mage of our race with sufficient Art for such 
  an arduous and hazardous journey through 
  the Underdark, and thus I was asked to join 
  them, also in the distasteful guise of a 
  priestess of the Spider Goddess – thus 
  gaining that much more access to the city 
  than their previous experiences with drow 
  would permit a ‘mere male’.  Almost every 
  aspect and incident of our journey to, within, 
  and from Godsvault was recorded in the 
  expedition 
  journal, 
  which 
  makes 
  for 
  intriguing reading in its own right and offers 
  much insight into the city’s culture; however, 
  while it is available to you should you request 
  it, that document is rather too bulky to travel 
  conveniently and insufficiently organised for 
  our immediate purpose. 
   
  What follows is my report on Godsvault and 
  the deep gnolls who live therein, as I 
  delivered it to Matron Phyrdril herself upon 
  my return (and duplicated to Elminster soon 
  thereafter), based mainly on what we learned 
  during that expedition but supplemented by 
  historical research, careful use of divination 
  magic, and information willfully given to us 
  by a deep gnoll exile-by-choice who fled the 
  city with us and sought shelter at Sreen’aur.  
  As I could not be sure of the true extent of 
  the Matron’s previous knowledge of the 
  matter, I found myself compelled to include 
  some rather basic facts to establish a proper 
  structure; of you, as of the Matron, I pray 
  forgiveness for any perceived slight to your 
  intellect, 
  for 
  none 
  was 
  intended. 
  (Unfortunately, I am soon to depart on 
  another journey of great import and cannot 
  include all of the unearthed lore at this time; 
  however, the remainder will follow before the 
  end of the season.) 
  
   
  54!
  Candour compels me to admit that I hold 
  grave concerns for the residents of this 
  region should the ‘Reavers’ plans come to 
  fruition on their own terms.  Within the 
  society created for them by the Spider 
  Goddess, the vast majority of my own people 
  in the Realms Below are vicious, powerful, 
  treacherous and cruel, but the hahlorkh also 
  possess 
  those 
  qualities 
  – 
  and 
  another 
  besides, one which may spell the downfall of 
  those who stand in their way, the drow most 
  of all: 
    Unity of purpose. 
   
  Not the unity of community, as found on the 
  surface, but a ‘destiny’ to conquer and 
  dominate all within their reach – and the 
  willingness to work together to obtain that 
  end. 
   
  If they ever seize the magical riches they 
  crave from within the ruins of Myth Drannor, 
  I gravely fear what could result.... 
   
  Arkhenneld appended certain sections of this text 
  with ‘D&D terms’ before passing it on to 
  Vangerdahast in the Year of the Shield, 
  Highness – this seems to be an eccentricity of 
  Elminster’s which she inherited under his tutelage, 
  born of his habit of correcting the falsehoods 
  perpetuated by that strutting, self-important peddler 
  of incomplete or inaccurate lore, Volothamp 
  Geddarm.  I have also taken the liberty of 
  contacting Arkhenneld to seek additions to this 
  treatise in light of events which have occurred since 
  it was first written, including recent upheavals in 
  the godly realms. 
   
  (Highness, I’ve no wish to add to the burdens of 
  your Regency, but I must say that I share 
  Arkhenneld’s concerns.  Cormyr is in no state to 
  withstand these hahlorkh should they send a full 
  assault force into the daylight realms, much less 
  any such force which might come with the support 
  of surface-gnoll tribes under their rule; even such an 
  emergence within this decade could well finish the 
  task started by the Devil Dragon’s armies and 
  the ne’er-sufficiently-accursed ghazneths, and with 
  Evereska barely freed of the thornbacks, our list of 
  allies grows ever thinner.  With your indulgence, 
  I intend to contact certain of the watchsword bands 
  currently under charter to the Crown, with such 
  discretion as I may muster, and encourage them to 
  do what they can to sow confusion and hardship 
  amongst these deep gnolls and their works.  
  Granted even a small portion of Tymora’s favour, 
  this should buy us sufficient time to brace the 
  realm to withstand such an event if it should occur. 
   
  – Caladnei, Royal Magician, 17 Alturiak, 
  1348CR 
   
   
  To Begin 
   
  The residents of Faerûn’s surface are far from 
  unacquainted with gnolls.  Bestial and 
  savage, these humanoids are individually 
  even more dangerous and resilient than orcs, 
  but their lower birth-rates generally limit 
  their numbers and preclude the formation of 
  hordes to match the orcish hosts which are 
  so grave a threat to civilised folk.  Nor are 
  they possessed of any especial mental or 
  mystical prowess; even the slightly more 
  sophisticated flinds are rarely able to enforce 
  any sort of fighting discipline upon a tribe – 
  the lack of which often results in disaster 
  during conflict with more cohesive races like 
  humans or elves. Few gnolls have the 
  patience or temperament to wield arcane 
  magic, and the gnolls’ worship of the balor 
  Yeenoghu, rather than any of the true gods 
  of Faerûn, means that they are often devoid 
  of significant divine magics. 
   
  However, in recent years, the residents of 
  the Dalelands, Cormanthor, the Moonsea and 
  the Vast have identified a new breed of 
  gnolls, dwellers in the Underdark who have 
  interbred with devils during their sojourn in 
  the depths and have now begun filtering back 
  towards the surface, scouting Cormanthor 
  and Myth Drannor for reasons of their own.  
  Even more physically potent than their 
  surface cousins, especially with their fiendish 
  blood offering them a disturbing resilience 
  against 
  most 
  mundane 
  weapons, 
  these 
  beasts – termed ‘deep gnolls’ by sages, 
  though folk who have seen their handiwork 
  or its aftermath prefer to call them ‘Reavers’ 
  or hahlorkh – are rather similar to flinds to 
  the casual glance, being slightly shorter and 
  stockier than ‘normal’ gnolls.  However, their 
  
   
  55!
  fiendish heritage can be discerned by the 
  attentive observer, who can see that their 
  eyes are a bright, glowing red rather than 
  the normal gnollish yellow-green, and that 
  they have small horns jutting from the backs 
  of their skulls, just behind their ears.  
  (Incidentally, 
  certain 
  evidence 
  I 
  have 
  uncovered suggests that these deep gnolls 
  are almost as fecund as orcs, and they 
  appear to breed true even with ‘normal’ 
  gnolls or flinds.) 
   
   
  History 
   
  After the slaying of the nycaloth Aulmpiter 
  during the mutually-devastating final battles 
  of the fall of Myth Drannor, the Army of 
  Darkness lost most of what little cohesion 
  remained to it. Its lower ranks fell back into 
  their foregoing state as a collection of rival, 
  often warring bands of humanoids.  Amongst 
  these were the Fleshraker March of gnolls. 
  With their tribal males being primarily of the 
  slightly smaller yet cannier flind breed (it 
  seems they had slain or driven off most of 
  the ‘lesser’ gnoll males), the Fleshraker 
  March was unusual for their high degree of 
  individual combat skill, tactical cunning and 
  collective discipline (both by the standards of 
  ‘normal’ gnolls and by those of the Army of 
  Darkness as a whole), even after being 
  merged with the remnants of Wolmuc’s 
  March after the Battle of Wyvern’s Crest.  
  However, after the Army’s dissolution this 
  very quality became more bane than boon: 
  they had caused more than their share of 
  damage during the campaign, and were 
  almost immediately targeted for vengeance 
  by the remaining Akh’Velahrn.  Fleeing to the 
  south-east of the devastated elven capital, 
  their original strength constantly dwindling 
  under the attentions of pursuing skirmishers 
  (both 
  parties 
  of 
  Akh’Velahrn 
  and 
  independents such as centaur tribes), with no 
  supernatural 
  support 
  left 
  to 
  them, 
  Semberholme’s Moonshadows preventing any 
  escape to the south-west, a reinforced 
  company of Captain Selorn’s vaunted Lost 
  Trench Legion bearing down on them from 
  the 
  northeast, 
  and 
  the 
  fortified 
  elven 
  settlement 
  of 
  Faelorin 
  (Tangled 
  Trees) 
  directly in their path, the Fleshrakers were 
  forced into a fateful decision: turn at bay to 
  fight – or take their chances in a deep cave 
  system they’d found during their flight.  
  Markedly unwilling to die simply for the sake 
  of dying, they saw it as no choice at all, and 
  fled into the gloom.  Themselves reluctant to 
  waste time and valuable lives in besieging 
  the ‘defenders’ or the confusion and carnage 
  of a prolonged fight in such a cave-system – 
  they still had many other splinters of the 
  Army to deal with – the pursuing Akh’Velahrn 
  simply collapsed much of the cave behind the 
  gnolls with magic and turned their attentions 
  to more immediate problems, considering the 
  Fleshraker March ‘neutralised’.  After all, 
  without provisions, water or air, they were 
  certainly doomed. 
   
  It would seem that little could have been 
  further from the truth.  Much like the 
  Skullbiter orcs in the North almost two 
  millennia before (who became the forebears 
  of the orogs that have become ever more 
  troublesome 
  to 
  surface-dwellers 
  in 
  the 
  centuries since the fall of Eaerlann, if I am 
  informed correctly), the Fleshrakers had 
  found a passage into the Underdark and kept 
  going, hoping to evade any pursuit and 
  eventually find their way to the surface once 
  more.  They were both more and less 
  fortunate 
  than 
  the 
  Skullbiters, 
  finding 
  themselves under the sway of a powerful 
  creature that could protect them from some 
  of the most dangerous denizens of the 
  Underdark – but that could also dominate 
  their destiny. 
   
  That ‘protector’ was a horned devil named 
  Jyalkaath, who had escaped from the drow 
  city of Maerimydra and a wizard therein 
  whose compulsions of servitude were slightly 
  (and rather fatally) less comprehensive than 
  he had imagined.  However, the drow did 
  exact a certain manner of retribution for the 
  ‘betrayal’: having slain the wizard in an 
  Underdark cavern far from Maerimydra itself, 
  Jyalkaath found that he could not pass 
  outside its thresholds, as the mage had 
  coupled his own contingency magics to the 
  horned devil’s collar of material entrapment 
  and the cavern’s faerzress to create a 
  network 
  of 
  interlocking 
  wards 
  which 
  prevented Jyalkaath from leaving by any 
  means, mundane or magical. These magics 
  also prohibited Jyalkaath from using his 
  powers to bring more fiends to him, save for 
  erinyes, who were already free to come and 
  
   
  56!
  go from the Material Plane as they pleased, 
  and answered his calls only as a matter of 
  whim.  Thusly frustrated in his grand plans 
  for domination, Jyalkaath was beside himself 
  with rage for some time.  Several decades 
  passed, with the increasingly foul-tempered 
  cornugon stalking the cavern and butchering 
  anything which entered to vent his ire, his 
  monotonous routine of patrol and slaughter 
  interrupted only by occasional visits from this 
  or that erinyes, passing on the latest ‘fun’ 
  that he was missing in the outside world. 
   
  As it happened, one of these periodic visitors 
  was an erinyes named Valyethra, who 
  actually harboured some twisted form of 
  affection for the trapped cornugon. She told 
  him of the ‘grand’ campaign by the yugoloths 
  in the Realms Above which had brought down 
  one of Faerûn’s shining lights of civilisation.  
  She also brought him some other news: the 
  former bands of the Army of Darkness had 
  scattered to the winds, making them perfect 
  recruitment material for anyone with imperial 
  leanings of their own... and one band in 
  particular was headed towards Jyalkaath’s 
  cavern. 
   
  When the Fleshrakers arrived, Jyalkaath and 
  Valyethra were waiting for them, along with 
  more than a dozen other erinyes and barbazu 
  Valyethra had recruited and convinced to 
  assist her and Jyalkaath in their new 
  endeavour.  Casually butchering the gnolls’ 
  leaders and any who tried fighting or 
  running, they informed the humanoids that 
  they now had new masters – and that those 
  masters had very specific plans for them.  
  With 
  no 
  means 
  of 
  offering 
  effective 
  resistance, the Fleshrakers gave themselves 
  over to the devils’ control. 
   
  What followed was a combination of high-
  intensity social engineering and a selective 
  inter-breeding programme (in many ways a 
  programme strikingly similar to that which 
  would be instituted by the tanar’ri of Hellgate 
  Keep to produce the tanarukks, some two 
  centuries later).  Using the bearded devils as 
  prison-guards 
  to 
  enforce 
  their 
  dictates, 
  Jyalkaath, Valyethra and the other four 
  erinyes recruited for this project began 
  selectively mating with those of the flinds 
  and gnolls they deemed worthy... albeit 
  occasionally at cross-purposes: Jyalkaath 
  chose the females he considered the most 
  likely 
  to 
  yield 
  strong, 
  large, 
  ferocious 
  children, while Valyethra and the erinyes 
  selected for intelligence and trainability as 
  well as physical power.  The erinyes’ 
  thorough-going 
  employment 
  of 
  fertility 
  enchantments 
  on 
  all 
  involved 
  (and 
  Jyalkaath’s vast appetite) saw to it that each 
  pregnancy produced at least two viable 
  progeny (it seems that the average was 
  actually four).  Once the first generation of 
  half-erinyes had been born, all of Valyethra’s 
  fellows declared their part in the project 
  complete (having only participated as a 
  favour to Valyethra herself) and gratefully 
  took their leave to seek their usual sport with 
  rather more sophisticated breeds of mortals 
  (as these are more receptive to their usual 
  methods of corruption).  Valyethra remained 
  to 
  oversee 
  the 
  programme, 
  providing 
  continued fertility charms when necessary, 
  weeding out undesirable bloodlines, and 
  occasionally venturing to the surface to 
  acquire fresh ‘breeding stock’ (later trading 
  with the drow of Dusklyngh and the newly-
  founded Zhentarim for flinds ‘acquired’ from 
  the tunnels under Ghaethluntar to rejuvenate 
  the population).  The cavern itself was made 
  habitable by its fronting onto a sliver of the 
  Reachmere at one end (which was filled with 
  edible fish and plants, though its other 
  inhabitants proved troublesome for a time) 
  and the introduction and farming of deep 
  rothé and various edible Underdark fungi 
  (and later surface crops), tended by ‘labour-
  grade’ gnolls unsuitable for inclusion in the 
  breeding programme or the civilisation now 
  burgeoning within the cavern.  Other ‘labour-
  grade’ 
  specimens 
  (and 
  kobold 
  slaves 
  overseen thereby) were set to work locating 
  deposits of valuable materials, mining them, 
  and smithing or smelting them for use or 
  trade; while the gnolls lacked the natural flair 
  for such work that the kobolds possessed, 
  they learned quickly (with the ‘incentive’ of 
  close supervision by the fiends), especially 
  with the input of a number of more 
  knowledgeable individuals whom Valyethra 
  had seduced and/or charmed into assisting 
  her, including several duergar and orog 
  leaders and smiths. 
   
  
   
  57!
  Outlook 
   
  Deep gnolls believe that there are only two 
  kinds of being in the world: predators and 
  prey (also defined as ‘the enslavers and the 
  enslaved’ or, most often, ‘eaters and eaten’).  
  Centuries of deliberate efforts to ‘civilise’ 
  them have blunted their savagery, and 
  taught them the value of a methodical 
  approach to problems and teamwork in the 
  face of threats, but Reavers are well aware 
  that they are stronger, tougher, and rather 
  smarter than ‘normal’ gnolls.  Indeed, the 
  Living Ancestors have raised them to believe 
  that these traits make them fit to rule over 
  all gnolls – that they have been chosen, bred 
  and shepherded by the Living Ancestors 
  specifically so they can take such rulership, 
  and thusly conquer much of the surface 
  world, slaying and/or devouring any who 
  stand in their path; such is their ability, their 
  right, and indeed their destiny.  They still 
  hold smouldering hatreds for the surface-
  dwellers 
  who 
  drove 
  them 
  underground 
  (Cormanthor’s elves in particular) and ache 
  for the chance to start settling old scores 
  with them.  They remain the brutal, sadistic 
  carnivores they always were, but now they 
  are brutes with a purpose and the wit to 
  pursue it in an organised fashion – which has 
  always been the most dangerous kind. 
   
  However, while direct conflict with enemies 
  remains 
  the 
  most 
  prestigious 
  of 
  all 
  occupations amongst the deep gnolls, careful 
  encouragement by Valyethra has seen to it 
  that they recognise the contributions of all 
  those who provide the means of armed 
  conquest – the miners and smiths who forge 
  weapons, the merchants and tradesmen who 
  supply 
  the 
  warrior’s 
  other 
  gear 
  and 
  necessities of life, those who grow their food, 
  and those who teach them from birth how to 
  survive and thrive in the Underdark and how 
  to fight cleverly (rather than simply bravely) 
  when the need arises. 
   
  Very 
  few 
  deep 
  gnolls 
  take 
  up 
  the 
  adventurer’s path.  Those who do have 
  usually been identified by their Clan (or the 
  Ancestors themselves) as ‘destined for great 
  things’, such as fighting their way into 
  leadership of a tribe of surface-gnolls, or 
  have been exiled from the city for some 
  offence or another, or have escaped from the 
  slavery which is commonplace punishment 
  for an offence.  The ‘chosen’ Reavers are 
  encouraged to seek their fortunes on the 
  surface, 
  where 
  they 
  can 
  spread 
  their 
  bloodlines and their message of ‘strength 
  through unity’ to all surface gnolls and thus 
  further the Ancestors’ agenda.  Outcast deep 
  gnolls are often escaped criminals or slaves 
  seeking nothing more than a new ‘pack’ with 
  which to hunt and preserve their own 
  existence; it matters little to them who they 
  fall in with, so long as they can obtain 
  shelter, food, and occasionally wealth.  Many 
  outcasts are apostates who follow deities 
  other than the Living Ancestors, usually 
  Malar the Beastlord. 
   
  The 
  rare 
  female 
  Reaver 
  adventurer 
  is 
  typically a runaway, fleeing from actual 
  slavery 
  or 
  the 
  social 
  conditioning 
  she 
  perceives 
  as 
  such, 
  conditioning 
  which 
  demands that fertile females be mothers and 
  house-mistresses rather than seeking a 
  destiny of their own making.  (Of course, a 
  goodly few females who ‘run away’ are 
  actually clerical emissaries of the Living 
  Ancestors, seeking to spread the word of the 
  Ancestors 
  and/or 
  infuse 
  surface-gnoll 
  communities with deep gnoll bloodlines, 
  building power-blocs on the surface as 
  preparation for the deep gnolls’ ‘inevitable’ 
  return to the surface as its new masters.) 
   
   
  Deep Gnoll Characters 
   
  The Living Ancestors and their unforgiving 
  environment have well acquainted deep 
  gnolls with violence and an appreciation of 
  when it is needful. Early attempts by the 
  drow 
  of 
  Maerimydra 
  to 
  conquer 
  ‘the 
  interloping humanoids’ encouraged them to 
  maintain their martial traditions, and indeed 
  the Living Ancestors have encouraged them 
  to institute formal military training practices.  
  However, an appreciation for the power of 
  their environment and how it can influence 
  the outcome of a skirmish also stayed with 
  them.  Fighters and rangers are by far the 
  most common classes found in deep gnoll 
  society, with rogues only a little behind them 
  (while the Reavers revel in a good fight, they 
  also recognise how much easier victory can 
  be if a key enemy like a wizard suddenly 
  grows a dagger-hilt between their shoulder-
  
   
  58!
  blades). 
   
  Clerics 
  are 
  very 
  nearly 
  as 
  prominent; whether they draw their powers 
  from the Living Ancestors or (more rarely) 
  something 
  above 
  them, 
  their 
  mystical 
  contributions to military success can be 
  invaluable, and their degree of influence on 
  deep gnoll society as a whole is quite 
  undeniable.  (Significantly, many deep gnoll 
  clerics are female, as directly devoting 
  herself to the Living Ancestors is a socially 
  acceptable way for a female to further 
  herself; more to the point, clerics have the 
  favour of the Living Ancestors, and thus 
  cannot be coerced to ‘follow the Ancestors’ 
  Will’ as they are already instruments of that 
  will.)  Wizardly arcane magic requires a 
  degree of patience and fascination with 
  esoterica that few Reavers possess; however, 
  despite their shortage of personal charm, the 
  amount of fiendish blood in deep gnollish 
  veins 
  often 
  allows 
  them 
  to 
  become 
  formidable sorcerers. 
   
  [Note: if Complete Arcane is in use in a given 
  campaign, the ease with which deep gnolls 
  may seek direct pacts with the Living 
  Ancestors means that the path of the warlock 
  is also a common choice for aspiring 
  arcanists, being that it offers great raw 
  power without requiring massive ‘front-end 
  investment’ of time and effort; the Living 
  Ancestors have no real objections, since each 
  such pact means one more soul assuredly 
  consigned to Baator rather than another 
  afterlife.] 
   
  The rise of literacy amongst the deep gnolls 
  has led to the slow decline of oral histories 
  and their keepers, but bards can still be 
  found 
  here 
  and 
  there 
  in 
  the 
  Reaver 
  community, often as courtly entertainers for 
  nobles or as temple archivists.  Paladins are 
  unheard-of, for while their strict code of 
  ethics might fit well with the society’s 
  structure and emphasis on (firm) punishment 
  for crimes, their altruistic moral code is 
  virtually incomprehensible within the context 
  of deep gnoll society; more to the point, 
  deep gnoll religions could never support 
  paladins, and apostasy is punishable by exile 
  or death.  (Blackguards are the closest 
  equivalent a paladin could have in deep gnoll 
  culture, and indeed they are fairly common 
  amongst the martial arm of the Reaver 
  clergy.)  Barbarians are almost invariably 
  exiles who have ‘gone berserker’ during their 
  time 
  in 
  the 
  Underdark, 
  as 
  their 
  anti-
  authoritarian leanings are anathema to deep 
  gnoll society.  The emotional detachment 
  which is essential to the druidic way is not 
  especially common amongst deep gnolls, 
  though druids can be found here and there – 
  especially amongst the farming Clans (whose 
  profession and social status enforce a certain 
  equanimity) and ‘heretical’ followers of Malar.  
  Similarly, the monk’s way of mastering 
  oneself and eschewing temporal power and 
  all its trappings and tools is not in keeping 
  with typical Reaver modes of thought, yet a 
  few can be found here and there; indeed, 
  there are small orders attached to both of the 
  faiths of the Living Ancestors as temple 
  guardians (and occasionally enforcers) and to 
  the city’s small Shar-worshipping assassin-
  cult, and others can be found as personal 
  bodyguards to powerful Clan leaders. 
   
  Common multi-class combinations include 
  fighter/cleric, 
  fighter/rogue, 
  and 
  ranger/sorcerer (or ranger/warlock if the 
  campaign uses Complete Arcane). 
   
  Favoured class: Fighter. 
  Prestige classes: Blackguard, Cavelord, 
  Shadowdancer, Wild Scout. 
   
   
  Deep Gnoll Society 
   
  Centuries of sustained social engineering and 
  concentrated effort by the Living Ancestors 
  have instilled at least the basics of civilised 
  conduct into the deep gnolls – granted, it’s 
  no more than a veneer at points, but some. 
   
  Almost 
  every 
  acknowledged 
  deep 
  gnoll 
  citizen is a member of a Clan, all said Clans 
  drawing their ‘authority’ from the length of 
  their existence (the most highly-regarded 
  date back to soon after the foundation of the 
  cavern-city of Godsvault) and their power 
  from their control of vital industries (and the 
  resulting wealth) and their military might.  
  The five oldest Clans, those which have 
  controlled the city’s major industries from its 
  foundation and are thus strongest and 
  wealthiest, hold seats on the city’s Advisory 
  Council, which controls the city’s day-to-day 
  administration 
  and 
  formulates 
  and 
  implements policy within the (usually broad) 
  
   
  59!
  guidelines set by the Living Ancestors.  There 
  are two other seats on the Council, held by 
  the designated representatives of the Living 
  Ancestors (or in rare cases, the Ancestors 
  themselves), and any directive from the 
  holders of either or both of those two seats 
  overrides any policy that the five Clan heads 
  seek to implement; even if all five deep gnoll 
  Councilors act in perfect unanimity, a single 
  word from either of the Ancestors (or their 
  surrogates) can veto them. 
   
  Control of the population by the clergy of the 
  Living Ancestors is undeniable, yet nowhere 
  near as pernicious or nihilistic as that found 
  in the cities of Lolthian drow.  The Ancestors 
  imposed a strict legal system and formal 
  code of conduct for their subjects, complete 
  with stern and often excessive punishment 
  for breaches, and it is enforced by the clergy 
  (who oversee all major decisions made within 
  the cavern-city and, through their military 
  arm, act as police, judiciary and punitive 
  service).  Concepts like ‘prisoner’s rights’ or 
  ‘innocent until proven guilty’ have never 
  occurred 
  to 
  the 
  deep 
  gnolls: 
  intrusive 
  divination magics (even telepathic mind-
  probes) are used in interrogations and trials 
  to get at the ‘truth’ of the matter (which is 
  often whatever the clergy and/or the accuser 
  want it to be), and punishments for even the 
  most minor infringements are extremely 
  harsh – murder and apostasy are punishable 
  by death (usually by torture) or exile, theft 
  by maiming and/or a period of slavery at 
  hard labour (often in the Arena), and so 
  forth; the concept of formal imprisonment is 
  considered 
  the 
  barbaric 
  eccentricity 
  of 
  outsiders.  Slavery is permitted, but only of 
  lesser races or those who have been 
  convicted of crimes.  Clans are permitted to 
  maintain their own militaries for peace-
  enforcement within their demesnes and 
  defence of those lands against interlopers 
  (especially if those lands include mines or 
  other valuable economic sites), but may not 
  exceed a total strength of two reinforced 
  Squadrons (twelve Parties, or three hundred 
  individuals), 
  including 
  officers 
  but 
  not 
  counting ‘irregular assets’ like arcanists; 
  Clans and their militaries do not have any 
  legal power to investigate infractions.  There 
  can be no direct act of internecine strife – 
  open or covert – by one Clan against 
  another, on penalty of the utter destruction 
  of both by the ruling Council and/or the city’s 
  overall military; individuals with grievances 
  that can only be settled by blood must settle 
  them in a formalised one-on-one duel in the 
  Challenge Arena (which is also used for fights 
  between slaves or groups thereof as mass 
  entertainment).  All other military-minded 
  individuals, 
  regardless 
  of 
  their 
  Clan 
  allegiance before enlistment, must join the 
  City March (military) in the service of the 
  Living Ancestors; in doing so, they set aside 
  their previous loyalties and swear themselves 
  to the service of the Ancestors and, through 
  them, of the city as a whole. 
   
  Above all, Reavers revere (or at least 
  respect) the sheer power to enforce one’s 
  will.  Be it by sword, spell, or (less often) 
  money and/or influence, to destroy another 
  or to force them to accede to your will 
  (within the laws laid down by the Living 
  Ancestors) is an admirable act.  Mercy is at 
  best an act of contempt, at worst folly; after 
  all, others would gladly abuse you if you 
  were in their power, so why not treat them in 
  kind – unless they’re not worth the effort?  
  Those above in the social structure must be 
  obeyed, or you will suffer the consequences; 
  those below must be warded, for it is through 
  them that your own dictates are enforced 
  and your position secured, but they can 
  never be allowed to forget that they serve. 
   
  It should be noted that while there is a 
  moderate cultural (and, to a lesser degree, a 
  religious) bias that ‘encourages’ female deep 
  gnolls to remain home to tend their cubs and 
  run their households while their males are 
  out doing ‘real work’, there is no strictly legal 
  barrier – so long as the female in question is 
  barren (not especially uncommon given the 
  city’s faerzress, despite all that Valyethra’s 
  enchantments might do to the contrary).  
  Nonetheless, females who are fertile but 
  refuse to buckle under to the ‘children-
  kitchen-church’ mentality often flee the city 
  to seek their own fortunes; those caught are 
  often stripped of their rights as deep gnoll 
  citizens 
  (such 
  as 
  those 
  may 
  be) 
  and 
  consigned to slavery.  A very common poetic 
  twist to this ‘justice’ is making the offending 
  female a concubine to a powerful male to 
  bear his cubs and obey his every command 
  (on pain of punishment with silvered blades 
  or enchanted whips). 
  
   
  5:!
  While the deep gnoll diet has evolved to 
  include some fruits, grains and vegetables – 
  and they have a pronounced taste for the 
  potent 
  apple 
  ciders 
  and 
  brandies 
  and 
  shatteringly-strong potato-spirits produced 
  by 
  the 
  orchards 
  and 
  potato-fields 
  and 
  breweries of Godsvault’s farming district – 
  deep gnolls remain carnivores by preference, 
  and they are less than fussy about what 
  meat they eat.  Indeed, when a Reaver dies, 
  it is funerary custom that the decedent lie in 
  state for a day in his home (for military deep 
  gnolls, usually on the parade ground; clerics 
  are shown in their temples), then be 
  consumed by his fellows, thus sharing his 
  power amongst them.  The heart is held to 
  contain the deceased’s spirit, and only the 
  strongest individual amongst the mourners 
  has the power to ‘overwhelm’ that spirit and 
  take its power into himself (not a few feuds 
  have been started in arguments and/or 
  brawls about who amongst the mourners is 
  strong 
  enough 
  to 
  take 
  this 
  ‘honoured 
  portion’). 
   
   
  Language and Literacy 
   
  While based on the original grammar and 
  structure of the surface-gnoll language, the 
  Reaver dialect is rather more evolved and 
  mature; being that the original gnollish 
  lexicon didn’t support the more sophisticated 
  concepts and nuances necessary for a 
  structured society like that of the deep 
  gnolls, many of the necessary terms are 
  borrowed from the culture’s other dominant 
  language, Infernal. 
   
  Gnollish written language consisted of little 
  more than crude pictograms before the 
  Fleshrakers’ descent into the Underdark, and 
  despite some rigourous efforts to adapt it to 
  their new circumstances, it simply proved 
  inadequate to the task of representing the 
  new 
  dialect 
  and 
  died 
  out 
  within 
  five 
  generations; all ‘properly educated’ deep 
  gnoll characters (all characters other than 
  those who start their careers as barbarians) 
  are literate in Infernal, but written gnoll is a 
  language used in Godsvault only by the city’s 
  rare scholars. 
   
   
  Abilities and Racial Features 
   
  Deep gnolls all possess the following racial 
  abilities. 
  ⇒ Strength +4, Constitution +2, Charisma -
  2.  Deep gnolls are incredibly strong and 
  highly resilient, but their short tempers 
  make them less than ideal spokespeople. 
  ⇒ Medium size.  While they tend towards 
  the slightly stockier frames of their 
  predominantly flind forebears, deep gnolls 
  often stand more than seven feet tall and 
  weigh over three hundred pounds.  (Deep 
  gnolls use the age and size tables for 
  orog orcs – found on pg.71, Races of 
  Faerûn.) 
  ⇒ A deep gnoll’s base land speed is 30 feet.  
  ⇒ Darkvision up to 60 feet; low-light vision.  
  ⇒ Cold resistance 5, fire resistance 5. 
  ⇒ Damage reduction 5/magic, silver or 
  good. 
  ⇒ Spell resistance 12 + class level. 
  ⇒ +2 natural armour bonus. 
  ⇒ Proficient with longsword and longbow; 
  weapon familiarity with the spiked chain, 
  allowing deep gnoll characters to treat it 
  as a martial weapon.  (These are all 
  weapons 
  favoured 
  by 
  the 
  Living 
  Ancestors, and thus by the Reaver culture 
  as a whole.  The once-prized flind-bar is 
  now a curiosity weapon rather than a 
  common one and deep gnoll characters 
  treat it as the Exotic weapon it is – its 
  weapon familiarity has been replaced by 
  that with the spiked chain.) 
  ⇒ Outsider Hit Dice: A deep gnoll has 3d8 
  racial Hit Dice from his devilish heritage.  
  A Reaver character receives maximum hit 
  points for his first Hit Die, and rolls his 
  other outsider Hit Dice normally.  He rolls 
  all Hit Dice from class levels and does not 
  automatically get maximum hit points on 
  his first class level Hit Die.  A deep gnoll’s 
  racial Hit Dice also provide a +3 base 
  attack bonus and saving throws of Fort 
  +3, Ref +3, and Will +3.  Deep gnolls 
  with character levels add their base 
  attack bonus and save bonuses to their 
  racial attack bonus and saves. 
  ⇒ Outsider Skills: A deep gnoll’s outsider 
  levels give him skill points equal to (8 + 
  Int modifier) x 6.  Class skills are Hide, 
  Intimidate, Listen, Move Silently, Spot 
  and Survival.  The character may also 
  choose one of the following as a class skill 
  
   
  61!
  for 
  these 
  Hit 
  Dice, 
  reflecting 
  an 
  apprenticeship served before he became 
  an adventurer: Craft (armour-smithing), 
  Craft 
  (bow-making), 
  Craft 
  (weapon-
  smithing), or Profession (miner).  A deep 
  gnoll does not get the x4 multiplier for 
  skill points acquired from his first class 
  level. 
  ⇒ Outsider Feats: A deep gnoll’s outsider 
  levels give him two feats.  Most choose 
  Alertness and Power Attack. 
  ⇒ Gnoll blood.  Despite his devilish heritage, 
  for all special abilities and effects, a deep 
  gnoll is still basically a gnoll.  Thus deep 
  gnolls can use or create gnoll weapons 
  and magic items with racially specific 
  gnoll powers as if they were ordinary 
  gnolls. 
  ⇒ Outsider: 
  deep 
  gnolls 
  are 
  native 
  outsiders. 
  ⇒ Automatic Languages: Infernal, Gnoll, 
  home 
  region. 
  Bonus 
  Languages: 
  by 
  region.  
  ⇒ Favored Class: Fighter. 
  ⇒ Level adjustment: +2.  Due to his racial 
  Hit Dice, plus his spell resistance, energy 
  resistances, damage reduction, natural 
  armour and advantageous ability score 
  modifiers, a deep gnoll has an effective 
  character level of 5 plus his class levels.  
  Thus, a 2nd-level deep gnoll fighter would 
  have an ECL of 7. 
   
  Unfortunately, esteemed brother-in-Art, time 
  and circumstance dictate that this is where I 
  must leave off this report and dispatch it to 
  you.  However, the rest will be in your hands 
  within the season, including details of the 
  deep gnolls’ tastes in the Art, their religion 
  and deities (including their Living Ancestors, 
  whom I had the dubious pleasure of meeting 
  during 
  my 
  time 
  in 
  Godsvault!), 
  their 
  preference in terms of arms and other 
  equipment, and some sundry matters which 
  might prove useful. 
   
  Yours by song and sword, 
   
  Susprina Arkhenneld of Shadowdale 
   
  !
  !
  
   
  62!
  !
  !
  Phorvar’s Gap 
  By J P Hazelhoff 
   
   
  Well met, fellow scribes and learned scholars!  
    
  Allow me to introduce myself. I am Rikos Dughol, late of Saradush, in Tethyr. I have been 
  traveling across Faerûn, at least across the regions known as the Western Heartlands and the 
  North, as an apprentice scribe with my master Brin Orgul.  
   
   During my travels, I have kept a journal of the places I have visited and things I have seen. As I 
  retrieve and edit these journal entries while staying in Candlekeep, I will make them available for 
  all to read. My journal might resemble the works of Volothamp Geddarm, whose writings I came 
  across during my studies, but are by no means copies of his excellent work, which has served as a 
  wonderful 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 
   
  8th Hammer 1371, Year of the Unstrung 
  Harp 
   
  ales of grand adventure, 
  rampaging 
  monsters, 
  and 
  damsels in distress – these 
  are the focus of the fireside 
  stories told by bands of 
  roaming 
  sellswords 
  and 
  wizards-for-hire. Well, they 
  always leave out the boring parts, the cold 
  and wet parts, and the stormy and rainy 
  parts 
  of 
  their 
  “grand 
  adventures”. 
  Adventurers never speak of how mundane or 
  dreary it can be to trek across the Sword 
  Coast 
  and 
  the 
  Western 
  Heartlands. 
   
  Master Orgul left Nashkel on the 1st of 
  Hammer, bringing me along to carry his 
  papers, books and supplies, as well as to look 
  after Marea, Master Orgul’s mule. Why he so 
  urgently needed to travel through the midst 
  of Auril’s reign only he and the gods know – 
  he won’t tell me. 
   
  It’s not that I’m unfamiliar with winter, snow 
  and sleet, but winters in the mountains back 
  home seem mild compared to the driving 
  winds, stinging rains and the pervasive cold 
  temperatures 
  that 
  seem 
  to 
  hold 
  more 
  
   
  63!
                                                  
  moisture in the air than they should here in 
  the wide open between Nashkel and Berdusk. 
  Greenfields1, they name it, is probably aptly 
  named 
  when 
  it 
  is 
  summer, 
  but 
  the 
  pleasantness 
  the 
  name 
  invokes 
  is 
  far 
  removed in winter. 
   
  So here I am, huddled deep into my cloak – 
  scant comfort! –~trying to pen my thoughts. 
  Time enough for that; outside the wind is 
  howling 
  and 
  driving 
  the 
  sleet 
  almost 
  horizontally through the air. We’ll be stuck 
  here until the storm subsides and travel is 
  possible again – probably when spring 
  arrives. 
  Why 
  couldn’t 
  we 
  have 
  stayed 
  comfortably in Nashkel and waited for 
  warmer weather to travel? 
   
  We are in a fly-speck of a town, a tiny hamlet 
  called Phorvar’s Gap2. A place so small that I 
  would be surprised if anyone would even 
  think about placing it on a map, in the middle 
  of the nowhere between the Nashkel, the 
  Wood of Sharp Teeth on the west and 
  Berdusk and the Troll Mountains in the east3. 
  The place is located at the end of a gorge, in 
  a wide, bowl-shaped valley. I assume the 
  name is derived from the gap in the land: a 
  scar across the terrain as if the ground was 
  hewn open by the blade of a deity. 
   
  Master Orgul arranged for us to stay with a 
  farmer and his family. Our beds are in the 
  stable; smelly, but warm because of the 
  livestock huddled together. Farmer Ashwin 
  Bhaerwood and his wife Talessyr make a 
  friendly enough couple – a tiny light of good 
  fortune along this dreadful journey – and 
   
                                                  
  1 Though the area initially appears flat, the 
  Greenfields is a vast land of gently rolling hills 
  with gorges, sinkholes and other features breaking 
  up the gentleness at irregular intervals. Some of 
  these provide access the area of the Underdark 
  known as the Netherese Caverns. 
   
  2 The original idea for Phorvar’s Gap is from 
  Steven E Schend and was posted on the 
  Candlekeep forum. 
   
  3 Phorvar’s Gap is a tiny hamlet in the midst of the 
  Greenfields, more than a day’s ride east of the 
  Uldoon Trail and nearly a full day south of 
  Greenest. 
   
  they have welcomed us in their homestead. 
   
  The Bhaerwoods have been in Phorvar’s Gap 
  for 
  several 
  generations. 
  According 
  to 
  Ashwin’s grandfather, their ancestors arrived 
  somewhere from long-fallen lands to the 
  northeast4. They originally settled a little 
  closer to the end of the gorge, slightly east of 
  the current hamlet. The village was originally 
  called Morlang’s Mill, after one of its first 
  settlers. The settlers chose this spot to settle 
  down and rebuild their lives because of the 
  shelter 
  of 
  the 
  gorge, 
  the 
  spring, 
  the 
  abundant grasslands, and several nearby 
  fishing ponds. 
   
  Farmer Bhaerwood’s storytelling was briefly 
  interrupted when a neighbor, Tragyl, and his 
  family came in for dinner. With so many 
  bodies in the cramped homestead, and the 
  heat from Goodwife Talessyr’s cooking, I was 
  finally able to crawl out of my cloak as the 
  temperature 
  in 
  the 
  house 
  became 
  comfortably warm. 
   
  I 
  had 
  expected 
  simple 
  fare: 
  potatoes, 
  cabbage, or carrots, and chicken or pork, but 
  the meal served would not have been 
  misplaced on a nobleman’s table: roasted 
  pheasant, quail eggs, wild mushrooms and 
  some leek-like vegetable. Laughing at my 
  surprise and probably wide eyes, “Old Darith” 
  – uncle to both Tragyl and Talessyr – 
  explained 
  that 
  ground 
  birds 
  like 
  quail, 
  pheasant, and suthtrill varieties are plentiful 
  in the grasslands and small copses of trees, 
  and the moist, sheltered environment of the 
  gorge allows for abundant mushroom growth. 
  His son, Fronn, spends much time hunting 
  birds 
  and 
  searching 
  for 
  mushrooms. 
   
  With dinner almost over, farmer Bhaerwood 
  continued his tale of the history of Phorvar’s 
  Gap, with the occasional interruption from 
  Tragyl. According to both, no one is sure how 
  long ago, but local legend states that a war 
  was fought in the area, between soldiers and 
  wizards 
  fleeing 
  the 
  fall 
  of 
  the 
  Shoon 
  Imperium and the people of Morlang’s Mill. 
  The fighting led to the destruction of the old 
  village.  
   
  4 Some claim that the original settlers came from 
  Ebenfar; others believe it to be Andlath. 
   
  
   
  64!
                                                  
  All that remained was the village square and 
  a few buildings surrounding it5. These 
  buildings were in surprisingly good shape, 
  given the destruction wrought around them. 
  The surviving settlers rebuilt their hamlet 
  downstream from the ruins of Morlang’s Mill, 
  using the rubble from the ruins to build 
  houses, barns and the like. Even the 
  surviving buildings were torn down, so that 
  today, only the old village square remains as 
  a visual reminder of what once was Morlang’s 
  Mill. 
   
  The village square and the remaining rubble 
  have been left alone, as the ruins are 
  haunted. Learned folks and the like came to 
  investigate the haunting, but left without 
  solving 
  the 
  mystery 
  or 
  removing 
  the 
  haunting. In the center of the square stands 
  a now-dry fountain with the remains of a 
  statue of a human female. According to 
  Goodman Darith, the statue in question 
  would have been a sculpture of Chauntea. 
   
  Legend has it that although the Great Mother 
  could not directly fight the wizards and the 
  soldiers of the hated Shoon Imperium, she 
  resisted and fought through subtle means, 
  allowing the locals to persevere in the end. 
  She blessed the waters flowing out of the 
  gorge; as a result, the clay harvested from 
  the banks of the small river has special 
  properties. 
   
  I had not noticed before, but when I looked 
  again at the earthenware plates and mugs, I 
  realized that all were decorated with motifs 
  that befit the Grain Goddess. And as 
  Goodwife Talessyr told me, the pottery is in 
  demand in the lands to the south – my 
  homeland and Calimshan – because it has a 
  slight tendency to keep water and liquids 
  cooler than the surrounding temperatures, 
  moreso 
  than 
  standard 
  clay 
  workings. 
   
  I look beside me and pick up the rose-
  decorated mug she gave me as a gift. Taking 
   
  5 Phorvar’s Gap is the location for George Krashos 
  adaptation 
  of 
  “The 
  Ruined 
  Village 
  Square”, 
  originally an Adventure Locale written by Robert 
  Wiese for the Wizard of the Coast’s Forgotten 
  Realms website: 
  (http://www.wizards.com/default.asp?x=dn
  d/al/20050223a). 
  a sip, the water is cool and pleasant, but with 
  weather like this outside, all water is bound 
  to be cold. Master Orgul stirs in the hay 
  above, already asleep. I’ll do the same, 
  plenty of time to add more to the journal 
  tomorrow… 
   
   
  9th Hammer 1371, Year of the Unstrung 
  Harp 
   
  Howling 
  winds, 
  stinging 
  rain, 
  freezing 
  temperatures… 
  Nothing 
  changed 
  from 
  yesterday when I woke up this morning. 
  Even with the warmth of the animals below 
  our pallets, the straw and the thick woolen 
  blanket were been barely enough to keep me 
  warm during the night. Despite that, I wish 
  the night had been longer; now I face the 
  prospect of spending another day in this 
  forlorn place. I’ll see if I can get breakfast 
  and some warm milk. 
   
  I had to run back through this gods-cursed 
  weather to retrieve my journal. The house is 
  warmer than the stable, and Goodwife 
  Talessyr is baking some sort of mushroom 
  pie. The reason I braved the weather for my 
  journal was the promise of another tale told 
  by Old Darith. 
   
   
  Legend of the Dark Ones 
   
  Long ago, there existed a group of powerful 
  wizards, whose realms floated across the 
  lands. The wizards subjugated everyone and 
  everything that fell beneath their shadow. 
  Some of that realm – slaves, commoners and 
  even some of the ruling classes – fled the 
  tyranny of wizards and sorcerers. Those 
  refugees 
  came 
  to 
  what 
  is 
  now 
  the 
  Greenfields. 
   
  Afraid that their former masters would spy 
  them 
  from 
  the 
  skies 
  and 
  once 
  more 
  subjugate the refugees to sorcerous tyranny, 
  the fleeing people sought their peace in the 
  lightless 
  lands 
  of 
  the 
  caverns 
  below. 
   
  Those who fled numbered chiefly among 
  them humans and gnomes, and these took 
  with them their religions and beliefs. Over 
  time, 
  the 
  religious 
  leaders 
  formed 
  the 
  backbone 
  of 
  the 
  underground 
  culture. 
  
   
  65!
  However, due to either spies of the tyrants or 
  traitors within their ranks, soon the powers 
  of the arcane rose to prominence once more, 
  slowly and with subterfuge this time. Rather 
  than vying with the clerical powers over who 
  would rule the realms below, these traitors 
  infiltrated the churches. 
   
  In those lightless days below, the followers of 
  the Lady of Loss held sway among the 
  populace, as did a now forgotten goddess: 
  Leira. Under the influence of the traitors, the 
  powers of the divine were more and more 
  bent to the dark and shadowy arts, illusions, 
  and hidden secrets. These became the 
  mantras of the dwellers below. 
   
  Delving ever deeper, the dwellers below went 
  too deep and uncovered something very dark 
  and sinister. They did not realize this, as this 
  new evil subtly wove its way into the minds 
  and hearts of the populace. Gradually this 
  evil changed the people, becoming one with 
  their magics, their faiths, and their entire 
  beings, transforming them into “Dark Ones”. 
   
   
  Often the Dark Ones are referred to as 
  creatures of faerie tales, of imagination run 
  wild. But why, then, do trolls, bugbears, and 
  even the faeries the critics ascribe the tales 
  to have the same legends and nightmarish 
  stories of the “Dark Ones”? 
   
  Waylaying the innocent in the darkness of 
  the night or during the darkest of overcast 
  skies, and taking their victims to their 
  Underdark realm… 
   
  * * *  
   
  When Master Orgul and I retreated for the 
  night, we discussed Old Darith’s tale. My 
  master suspects that the refugees in the 
  story are in fact Netherese, a conclusion 
  easily reached based on the description of 
  floating realms. Master Orgul also recalled a 
  series of underground caverns in this area 
  known as “The Netherese Caverns”. In 
  addition, a fact even known to me is that the 
  Netherese 
  held 
  gnomes 
  as 
  slaves 
  and 
  servants, making the combination of these 
  races in the tale plausible. 
   
  
   
  66!
  !
  !
  !
  Volume VII of the Candlekeep Compendium contains the work of many people, who have put 
  much time and effort into penning these articles of lore.  Many thanks to all who contributed and 
  helped on this project. 
   
   
  Project Coordinator………………..…………………………………… Alaundo 
  Editing and layout………………………………………………………..Alaundo 
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
      
  Chris Jameson 
  Cover and page design………………………………………………..Yack Tundra 
  Interior Artwork…………………………………………………………… Julius Petilla  
   
   
  The Hammer’s Stroke…………………………………………………. Kevin Liss 
  Laborers of Toril…………………..……………………………………… Scott Kujawa 
  Folk of Faerûn: Shaundakul………………………………………….Doug Raas 
  Untold Stories……………………………………………………………….Chris Jameson 
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
      
  Scott Kujawa 
  Mysteries of the Creator Races……………………….…………. Gray Richardson 
  Towns of The Dragon Coast.….……………………….……….….Jorkens 
  Unveiling Waterdeep’s Hidden Lords ………………………….Chris Jameson 
  Deep Gnolls…………….….….…………………………………………….Danyel Woods 
  Journal of an Apprentice Scribe…………………………………..J P Hazelhoff 
   
   
  We hope you have enjoyed this volume of Realmslore.  Any feedback is greatly appeciated.  
  Please email us at compendium@candlekeep.com or visit the Candlekeep forum at 
  http://forum.candlekeep.com 
   
  Copyright Notice 
  The material contained in the document remains the property of the respected authors.  This 
  document and its content can not be reproduced or contained on any other web site or location 
  without first obtaining permission from Candlekeep. 
   
  Volume VIII 
  The Candlekeep Compendium is a quarterly publication.  Keep an eye out for The Candlekeep 
  Compendium Volume VIII, containing new Realmslore and further installments of regular articles 
  penned by our master scribes. 
   
  
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