Post/Author/DateTime	Post
#1 oddball_omega Oct 25, 2010 14:21:32	I've got a halfling bard in my current campaign who loves secrets, mysteries, and insider information. I've given him the beginnings of a mystery to work on as kind of a side quest as we carry on battling evil cultists, but I want to give him a resource to help him out, give him clues. I want to have him discover a tome of lore- stories and poems concerning a wide range of topics, from the rise and fall of ancient empires, the quests of heroes and fools, and of course, specially crafted tidbits related to his mystery. I can handle the tidbits, but I'm wanting to give him actual printed out pages full of stories. This is where you come in! I'm hoping some of the people on this forum will submit stories or poems to be included in the book, because I don't know if I can write it all. Have a favorite story from a campaign of yours? Write it down! Tell the tales of your heroes and villians. Any length is fine- nothing is too short or long. I've got two weeks before I give him the first copy, and I plan on having him find a few pages at a time as the campaign goes on, always with a few bits of lore and a clue about his mystery. Any help would be much appreciated.
#2 oddball_omega Oct 25, 2010 14:26:49	Here's the entry I'll be giving him that's a clue. I know it's not great, but it'll serve its purpose. From whence came great Wendomar? No two stories can agree, But they come from near and far, Its mighty towers to see.  Who laid the first foundation? For none there now can recall, Some long forgotten nation, With might and wit above all.  They say there lies great treasure, Tomes of now forgotten lore, And fortune beyond measure Left by some lost kings of yore. They search for lost Wendomar, Bravest souls and keenest minds, Without map or guiding star, Seeking treasure of all kinds.  If you dare follow their feats, Unlike all that you have seen, Seek high spires and moving streets, And the mighty, ageless Queen. Just so you know- Wendomar is a city that rests on the backs of many large, crawling, insect-like drones, made by the Forge Queen from whatever resources are harvested from the nearby countryside as the city wanders the world- wood, bone, coral, metal, etc. He's seen one of the drones harvesting lumber, and has had a vision of thousands of legs and great red forge.
#3 islandowner Oct 26, 2010 2:40:04	I just made this up for you (and I'll probably use it myself for my own dming) I think I can be proud of this one ^^ Green skins, small brains, tens of thousands causing pains! A human city overrun, burning corpses in the sun. But how did creatures foolish and vile, destroy a city in seconds while the walls were big like mountains built around a city filled with guilt? The goblins laughed, the goblins sang. but disciplin came in with one loud bang. 't was the goblin leading the victorious coup, The smartest greenskin of the entire troupe. He taught his kind the wealth of trade, a disciplin making their greediness fade. Now, after death hit their leader, so smart, goblins still honor the greenskin named Gwart.
#4 oddball_omega Oct 26, 2010 9:16:03	Daro's Folly and the Fall of Trimaris Long ago, when the world was still sparsely inhabited, there rose a great human kingdom, Trimaris. It was said that the men of Trimaris had wandered from the AstralSea, because magic coursed through their veins unlike what has been seen in the world since. Their deity was Ioun, and they shared her love of knowledge and prophecy. They were a wise people who built mighty cities and great schools of magic and lore. The Trimarans sought to tell the story of the world- all that had come before, through careful research and clever investigation, and all that would come after, through prophecy and divination. Wisdom flowed like water among the people, and the Lord of Trimaris, Bomian, was renowned throughout the world for his wise judgments.  Bomian had five sons, chief among them were Wenyl and Daro. Wenyl, the eldest, had spent many years studying powerful magic at the greatest academy in the kingdom. Wenyl was revered throughout the kingdom as a wise man like his father. Daro, the second son, who had longed to follow in the mighty steps of is father and elder brother, was unable to cast even the simplest of spells, and took up a position in the military. On the surface, things were well in the family, but a seed of bitterness had taken hold in the prince Daro.  Years passed, and Bomian died an honored old man. Wenyl took the throne, to the delight of the nation and the great and secret resentment of Daro. Daro left the city for a time after his brother’s ascension, and traveled the kingdom searching for a name for himself and power.  What he found was a hidden temple of Vecna on the very borders of the land. The only remaining priest was mad, muttering and cursing in a corner in the small stone temple, clutching a scroll close to his chest. Daro insisted that the man give him the scroll, but he would not, and such was the power of that temple that Daro became angry and screamed at the man for the scroll, and when he would not give it Daro stabbed him through the heart. And though the man’s body went slack and his grip released, still he muttered and cursed.  Daro read the scroll, and it spoke of a dark ritual, one which must not be named. He set on down a path darker than any living may tell, seeking the power to perform the ritual that would render total dominion of the kingdom to him. Daro paid heavily in blood and pain and part of his spirit for the power to cast that spell.  And on the longest night of the year, in a hidden room in the capital of Trimaris, he and a few depraved followers called out of the Beyond a storm of fire, colorless flame, hotter than the suns of all the worlds, wilder than legions of the Abyss, and it ravaged the kingdom of his brother. Trimaris was consumed and became naught but ash, for miles and miles. The world shuddered and cried in agony that day, and many peoples recall the Day of the Crying Earth. And alone, crazed, and victorious, stood Daro, cursed among men, eyes filled with regret and terror for what he had done. A great being of the colorless fire came to him when the work was done, and “Hail, King, and welcome to thy Kingdom. May it ever be as thou have made it, the same as thine own heart- empty, barren, a blight on the world.” And the creature of fire left him.  To this day, Trimaris is naught but a desert, a wasteland. Some say that Daro is cursed to wander it endlessly, a wretched lord of a desolate kingdom, until the end of days.
#5 obdormio Oct 26, 2010 10:09:22	I do have, in my notes, a thing I wrote for the fun of it: A 21 stanza poem in fornyrðislag meter, giving a very short account of the creation of the world and the Dawn War in the PoL setting ... but it's in Norwegian. If you want it, I can translate the meaning quickly enough, so depending on how you handle languages in your game, it could be presented as a foreign work with explanatory notes, (which is pretty much what you'd have anyway).
#6 lakelandmiddle1982 Oct 26, 2010 11:17:07	In the time of the Great Exodus, mighty Dindali spread from the Imperial seat of Sabratah on the Jamil river to the Houses of the Four Winds.  Her armies were peerless in battle, her bountious crops fed the teeming masses of hungry citizens, while her merchants grew wealthy from shrewd business dealings and exploration far afield.  Her Emperror, Kaldazar Arch-Magus of the Seven Houses of Bashini, son of Mustaff the Conquerer, recently crowned, sat the throne.  There was peace across the empire for the first time in one-hundred generations.  The Lord Advisors to the emperror were pleased, the merchants of the Trade Consortium were pleased and even Dindali's neighbors were resting their skirmishers along the imperial border.  Court intrigue was rampant, but the work of the empire never faltered for all of the infighting amongst the noble houses. During the final days of winter, the riders set out across Dindali carrying word of the Spring Feast and the Rite of Peace.  Kaldazar and the nobles of Sabratah were preparing to play host to the empire.  The grand avenues of Sabratah would be transformed into open air feast halls, players would dance and sing in the streets, wine would flow and roast meat would be the standard fair of even the most minor of imperial citizens.  No one who could make the trek would be turned away, noble homes and imperial offices would become guest halls.  If one could merely make the journey, then Emperror Kaldazar promised, food, entertainment and lodging. On the First Day of Spring, Sabratah was filled to bursting.  She normally housed a hundred thousand souls, swelling to trice that during the heights of summer.  On that day, six hundred thousands filled the streets and markets and balconies of the great city.  In the first days of the empire, Kaldazar's line made an oath-pact with the God of Light and Truth.  Kaldazar's forbears gave to their God, the first part of each harvest, the first part of all treasures seized in war and the first child born of each family was given to serve their God.   The empire came to Sabratah to bear witness to the recently crowned Emperror Kaldazar paying tribute to the God of Light and Truth, to perform the ancient Rite of Peace, which bound the people to their God.  In recognition of the oath, their God blessed the armies and the lands and the Empire would be secured.
#7 Kereminde Oct 27, 2010 8:17:04	In a time long lost to myths and legends, there was a great fortress called White Reach. Its walls were built of stone quarried from secret locations and reinforced with the magic of the Witch Queen Athara. To one side were green fields, and to the other were the steep cliffs before the ocean. Sitting in the throne room of her new fortress, she perceived herself as invulnerable behind walls of sorcery and stone, protected yet further by the flesh and steel of her devoted followers. White Reach grew in prominence, while Athara remained disdainful of politics elsewhere. The rising human empire to the west saw White Reach and took it as a challenge. The Witch Queen would not stand against the destiny of the emperor's new order. A messenger was dispatched with a simple message: join under the Imperial Light or have the walls of White Reach torn down so completely that no two stones would lay atop each other. The head of the messenger was sent back as its own message. And the empire roused to war. Legions marched across the land, and ships sailed to blockade the ports supplying the fortress. Siege engines were built outside the walls and battles raged between the followers of the Witch Queen and the Imperial Guard. Blood stained the grass red, and turned the land barren as soldiers on both sides fell. Arcanists of the Empire worked tirelessly to unravel the enchantments binding the stone, until they determined a much simpler solution. Come the fifth month of the siege, a herald approached the walls of White Reach and asked for the unconditional surrender of the Witch Queen. If she would not submit, every man woman and child within would be put to the sword. When the refusal came, he lifted a horn to his lips and blew one clear note. The ground beneath the walls shook, and then those pristine white walls built with the hands of men and bound by the magic of the queen's prized mystics . . . tumbled down. The Emperor had sent men underground and mined out the walls, since the Witch Queen had only ever anticipated direct assault. As the walls were breached, the legions of the empire went about their duty. Enraged, the Witch Queen took to the tallest tower and leveled a potent curse which blasted the whole of White Reach into the ocean. If she was to be defeated, she would ensure the Emperor would not have his victory without a heavy price. So many people died, buried under the collapsed cliff, and the Emperor left the ground barren and unable to sustain any life at all as a warning to those who would defy his will. As time passed, the Emperor built his grand realm, but the horrors of White Reach remained in the memories of his detractors. Even as he raised the Towers of Sunset and Sunrise on the opposite shores of the continent as testament to his Empire, people would whisper about what happened to make it come to pass. Even as law returned to the land and justice was no longer a fleeting dream of the common man, there were tales told about the blood-price which built this civilized age. The Emperor died, extracting an oath from his heir to rule better than he had, and so it was. Time passes on, and that Empire ended long ago. Where White Reach once stood, a testament to hubris and willpower, now there are the Bone Cliffs which serve as a like testament to a pyrrhic victory. Some claim the Witch Queen Athara lived through the terrible arcane maelstrom which buried her fortress, and still dwells there plotting her vengeance on an empire which no longer exists except in the forgotten mists of time. Of course, that is but a legend and myth. No more real than the Pink Dragon of Erastel. And that is a story for another time.
#8 malphaeus Oct 27, 2010 13:55:02	This is written as a curse upon someone (Irsig of Naal, as you might gather). Who Irsig is, where Naal is, and all of the other details are up to you. The author of this curse may be a revenant that is still hunting Irsig...or Irsig may now be a demon, or undead... You could also just use it as flavor, as I have in my game. --- Three Thurses I cast on ye, Irsig of Naal! Thrice Wronged by Thee and Bind thee to me, Irsig of Naal! As the bond-maid grieves, so shall ye, Irsig of Naal! Irsig of Naal! oath breaker, yellow cloak Irsig of Naal! earth bane, harvest blight Irsig of Naal! kin death, false oak O'er Gresnir's folly shall I follow... Through Urgmal's tears shall I wade... Under Hynthul's skin shall I crawl... A raven's feast from Irsig of Naal! Justice delievered to Irsig of Naal! The grave of my steel in Irisg of Naal!
#9 oddball_omega Nov 01, 2010 10:21:59	Orchardwood Apple Pie Surprise  I made a visit home during my long journeys, and was delighted when my trip to nearby Orchardwood warranted the preparation of this wonderful little dish. It is a most delicious and amusing treat, and has a pleasantly low mortality rate.  Ingredients Required  Apples, 8 bushels Fresh cream, 6 buckets Butter, 4 pounds Water, 2 buckets Flour, 5 pounds Salt, 2 pounds Shortening, 2 pounds Sugar, 3 pounds Brown Sugar, 3 pounds  Components Required  Smooth Stones, 8 Dragonfly Wings, 12 A Joke, written on parchment Quicksilver, 1 ounce Cauldron, Iron Young Halfling, 1   Combine salt, flour, water, 2 pounds of butter, and shortening. Stir vigorously until good dough is ready. In a very large pan, spread half of the dough out to be the crust of the pie. Chop apples, add with sugar, brown sugar, and the remainder of the butter for pie filling. Mix well for 10 minutes. For best results, use apples picked from the groves of Orchardwood on Midsummer’s Eve.  Form a circle around the cauldron with the smooth stones. Note that they must be clean. Fill the cauldron with the cream. Grind the dragonfly wings into a fine dust, and sprinkle over the cream while chanting “Grindy grindy go the wings, for protecting other things”. Chant for 1 minute. Add the vial of quicksilver and begin chanting “Blood of mirror protects it clearer.” Chant and stir for 2 minutes. The joke must then be added immediately. It is very important that it be a very funny joke, or the mixture will not function properly. Avoid jokes about mothers, donkeys, and dragons- these are universally unfunny and will result in a scorched young Halfling. Once the joke has been added, slowly lower the child into the vat so that he is completely submerged. Before he drowns, spin twice, run around the cauldron saying “Beezle weezle glubbin gloin!” once, and give the cauldron a good open-handed smack. If it scowls at you, then the ritual has worked.  Pour the Halfling-cream out into the center of the pie. Make sure no part of the Halfling is sticking out. Shove any protruding parts back into the sphere of cream. Then pour the apples out into the pie crust, and cover with dough. Bake for 2 hours.  If all goes well, the young Halfling will be protected in the cream from the heat of the oven. Serve the pie in front of a large gathering, and tell the joke written on the parchment. If the audience laughs, and the cauldron also found the joke funny, the child will erupt from the center of the pie, covered in cream, laughing merrily, throwing cream all over the guests, and somewhat intoxicated. A successful joke will not only ensure the release (and therefore survival) of the child, but will greatly improve the taste of the pie.  Serves 50
#10 gate_of_hellion Nov 07, 2010 10:05:06	Long ago there stood a mighty empire; powerful enough to challenge the majesty of the kingdoms of Haven that floated high above the clouds. Haven was a kingdom created by the gods to watch over man, and guide them throughout the journey of their existance. As the empire grew more powerful, Haven's Lords had witnessed their radical progress, expereinced their intelligence, and saw that man would grow so powerful as to transcend their own existance, and surpass that even of the Realm of Haven. The thought troubled the divine lords, so they descended to the earth on wings of light and tried to persuade man to kneel before the Gods of OverWorld and serve them, and to negotiate the command of their wonderous creations. Man spat in the faces of the Haven Lords, and so Haven returned to their Home in the heavens more troubled and deeply inraged. The Haven Lord's insecurities grew as thoughts of man, taking their places as instruments of the Gods, the conquest of overworld, and the death of the gods, raced through their minds. With swift and descisive action, Haven unlocked a great evil. Beneath the depths of the planet existsed ancient gates of a great evil that Haven had supressed long before man had set foot on the planet. Hellion, a realm named after the lord who manifested this realm through sheer hatred of everything in existance, as its ugliness pestered him. Hellon viewed everything as a cancer to the planet and the celestial, he would cleanse everything and would make sure that nothing existed to atrophy existance. Hellion was unleashed by its very surpressors to undo everything man had accomplished. Hellion's Demons and Man's armies clashed with Steel and Fire, and after all the bloodshed, man had come out victorious. Man had blamed Haven for this incursion, and thus built and mighty machine to create a powerful barrier, such that no god or supernal may set foot into Man's realms. This machine would finally bring balance to the realms and seperate man from god. However the flood gates were now open, and Hellion still lay unchained. Hellion, the Lord of His realm, saw his minions fail. Infuriated by their failure, he sought to destroy man himself. He would travel to the celestial above and reign down destruction on the disease that is mankind. With all his power he absorbed the stars into himself, until only blackness consumed the celestial. However, the power of the stars proved too much for Hellion and so he fell to the earth below. As he descended the humans looked up towards the sky, and a massive fireball shattered the barrier and destroyed the mighty empire, and Hellion with it. The Demons of Hellion saw their oppurtunity to unleash their vengeance upon mankind, as did Haven, saw their oppurtunity to salvage the creations of mankind. As the demonic hordes of Hellion wreaked havoc upon mankind, Haven saw that Hellion was intent on erasing man from existance. Haven made a pact with the newborn Lord of Hellion-Asrutan, to cease their attack and return their Hellish Depths, and in return, they would share mankind's wonderous creations. Asrutan accepted, the demons returned, and Haven began their search for mankind's technology. Unfortunately for the Lords of Haven, their search warrented nothing. The records, creations, and architects were either buried deep beneath the sea, buried in ancient structures, and temples, or destroyed, never to be used again. The survivors of Hellions massacre, and the Hellion Catastrophe, rebuilt and recovered. After 200 years man had risen from the ashes of his near destruction, stronger then ever, and sought out after his buried works. 200 years of waiting, Hellion was growing impatient, Haven had remained silent. They would rise to destroy man once and for all, and once they were crushed beneath their feet, they would conquer the Celestial and OverWorld. A war long awaited will soon erupt, debts will be paid, and blood will be shed.... The Planet's Fate, The Celestial's Fate, and the almighty God's Fate, Rests on the shoulders of mankind and their quest to restore balance to the planet once again.
#11 Leafar Nov 07, 2010 18:23:53	If you have a moment, please go to my "Your Votes Will Create This World" thread and please place a vote.  It is Round VI, the last round, and this world can finally be born.  Thanks! : )
#12 Kereminde Nov 14, 2010 15:48:35	The Treaty of Pallordia   In the early days of the empire, the Second Emperor supported aggressive expansion as he built his power base. This translated into a need for raw materials for building cities, and as such the humans began to cut down large swaths of forest to support their need for lumber. The elves who lived in the woods began to protest, only to be dismissed by the foresters. The elves did not take kindly to this, and marched out a small army to make a point. There were no battles, as the Emperor marched his own House Guards to the site to understand what happened.   As the Emperor sat down and listened, he admitted to the reckless actions of his subjects, and how he wished to avoid starting a war over this. The treaty was started on the belief both sides could get what they needed. The elves would set boundaries where the humans could not cut, and would show them how to care for the forests even as trees were felled. In turn, any humans caught cutting inside the boundaries were not subject to Imperial law, but to Elven law.   The two sides parted, and while there was grumbling among the humans on the concessions given to the elves, they understood things could have gone very badly. The elves had meanwhile been able to misdirect the humans from their hidden homes, away from the places they wished to protect. So it was the Circle of Seasons became truly the guardians of nature's balance with civilization . . . even if it was not elven civilization which grew dominant.   To the present day, even the decline of the Empire has not weakened the Treaty's enforcement. The elven boundaries have changed over time as the landscape has shifted . . . but the humans still respect those boundaries.