Captain Medes looked out over the dark blue waters ahead of him, the swirls of blue on his cheeks shimmering in the early evening sunlight. Squinting for a moment, he pulled a spyglass from its sheath at his waist, extended it and glanced through the glass. Damn, just as he suspected, two Jex’kor frigates were heading toward him. He lowered the spyglass, putting it back in its sheath; it would not do well for such a valuable tool to get damaged unnecessarily. He quietly spoke to the helmsman informing them to swing out towards deeper waters, perhaps the frigates would not pursue if he changed his route.

In his mind, he knew that was untrue, the frigates would pursue them until they reached safe waters or he was able to destroy them. Looking behind him, the two large cargo vessels following him changed course to follow the Ocean’s Breeze, his ship since he was a boy. Medes grew up on the ship as a cabin boy, working his way up the ranks until he was given the honor of captaining the ship a little over a year ago.

The Lords of the City of Sunlight had given him his current task. He reminisced for a moment, remembering the pride he felt as the Lords of the city had presented him with this contract and a chest full of gems. In theory, the contract was quite simple, escort the two cargo vessels around the continent until they reached the Elven lands. Trade the chest of gems for all the lumber the two cargo vessels could carry, and escort them home. The Elven wood was the best in the world and made the strongest and lightest ships, which was of vital importance to the desert people who thrived on trade and seafaring.

Medes looked over to Amelia, the Ocean Breeze’s Wind Shaper, and asked her to send a message to the cargo ships making them aware that two Jex’kor frigates were in sight and to begin making preparations for battle just in case they were unable to avoid them. Amelia frowned as she began waving her hands and whispering the incantations of magic to summon a small air elemental to deliver the captain’s message. Amelia knew what it would mean if the Jex’kor frigates overtook them. They would fight as the Aeshu always did. If they won, it would be at a cost in lives; if they lost, it would mean those who survived would be taken to the Lich Kingdom as slaves. For the Aeshu, freedom was everything and the very thought of slavery was anathema to their way of life and the very fiber of their being.

Medes and Amelia both knew that if it came to a fight and things went badly for them, very few slaves would be taken by the undead. The chest of gems and the loss of wood it would purchase for the Kingdom would be unfortunate, it falling into the hands of slavers doubly so. The fact it was the undead of Jex’kor made it sting even more.

Medes watched as his crew worked the riggings and adjusted the sails. The Ocean’s Breeze could easily outrun the oncoming frigates, but it would mean leaving the cargo vessels to fend for themselves. If absolutely necessary, Medes would do just that, but not without exhausting every other option first. He thought about the chest of gems secured in his cabin. A small fortune no doubt, and of particular value to the Elves for their magical properties, but for the Aeshu it was a small loss overall.

The Aeshu lived on the southern coastline of the largest desert in Sylvaris. The desert was known as the Sands of Shimmering Wealth, very simply because underneath the desert were pockets of rare and valuable gems. The trick was figuring out where they were at and being able to mine them safely, something the Aeshu had become quite skilled at and the economic lynch pin of the entire Aeshu society. Most of the largest gem deposits were owned by the Lords of the city, but occasionally word would reach the city of a lone explorer who discovered a deposit. Often the rights to the deposit would be sold to the Lords, as it was very rare that an individual had the necessary funds to hire a crew to retrieve the deposit. Not to say it was unheard of, it was simply very rare. The Lords of the city used the gems to benefit the Aeshu, and poverty within the City of Sunlight was virtually unheard of, as work was plentiful and the Lords understood the need to give purpose to the people. Even menial tasks provided enough wealth for a modest living.

The City of Sunlight is a giant island city shaped of sandstone that has been hardened by alchemical mixtures and magic. It’s known as the City of Sunlight because of the shimmering glow which emanates from its structures for several hours into the night. Something about the mixture used to solidify the sandstone results in it absorbing the sunlight throughout the day and giving a faint glow for several hours into the night. The only path into the city is a large bridge that spans from the mainland to the island, as such this makes the city very defensible from attacks by land and underscores the importance of the Aeshu navy.

The City of Sunlight is of course not the only Aeshu city, but it is by far the largest and most prominent. On the mainland around the coast small villages exist, but nothing as grand as the City of Sunlight. Medes took a moment to remember how amazing it felt every time he returned home from a voyage and saw the city shimmering in the sunlight or glowing in the night sky. It was one of the most beautiful things he had ever seen, and to this day he is still awestruck when he returns home. Now, however, it was time to focus.

The frigates had not given up. They had plotted an intercept course and they were faster than the cargo ships which Medes had been tasked with protecting. So it was that Medes would do just that. A chest of gems and two cargo ships was quite a prize for pirates. Medes knew that, the Lords of the city knew that, and the pirates knew that. What the pirates did not know was that Medes was not unprepared for this situation should it occur. In fact, it was predicted that this would probably happen, but he was still instructed to try and avoid the situation at all costs.

Normally, the route to the Elven kingdom would take the ships north along the desert coast and then swing west around the continent past the orc lands, then a brief stop at the Erid Isles to resupply followed by the final leg of the journey past the Fae forests and to the northernmost port city of the Elven lands. With the Fibian war, the northern waters had become unsafe and a much more dangerous route was necessary. Striking out immediately west and cutting through the Kingdom of Frost put them into the Magocracy lands. A tithe was required in order to allow them passage through those waters; the mages had enough problems with the Gargoyle rebellion, they didn’t need to make enemies of the Aeshu as well. From there, they sailed past the jungles of Yuan. Again, a few bribes bought them safe passage and allowed them to enter into the waters around the Empire of Jex’kor, known more commonly as the Lich Lands.

Everyone who helped plan the route expected that if trouble was to occur, this is where it would be. So, it was that they assigned a Wave Watcher, a Wind Shaper, and three Sun Bringers to the Ocean’s Breeze in addition to twenty of the city’s finest guardsmen. The Ocean’s Breeze was designed for speed, but that did not mean she was unprepared for battle. At her bow, a light ballista was loaded and the Sun Bringers were infusing the bolts with fire magic while her crew of 30 archers lined the sides and prepared to fire. Behind him, Amelia lightly tapped his shoulder and informed him that the cargo vessels had each made similar preparations. While they did not carry the full complement of soldiers that the Ocean’s Breeze carried, they each had been armed with several ballista and a light catapult.

Medes smiled to himself as the undead came into range of the siege weaponry. It’s a good day to destroy some undead, he thought to himself as he gave the order to fire the catapults. These Aeshu would not go down without a fight.

Makeup & Costuming:

Ocean blue, cloud white, or sea green swirls and markings on the face.

Racial Skills

Innate

• Passive:  Dual wield long weapons; if they already possess this ability, they gain +1 damage when dual wielding.
• Active: One use of Evasion per encounter.

Weapon Flourish (1 use): Deliver a single attack for +5 Vorpal damage.

• Expert (2 uses): Deliver 3 consecutive attacks for +5 Vorpal damage.
• Master (3 uses):  Deliver a single Weapon Strike Destruction.
• Grandmaster (4 uses): Declare “Weapon Dance”, allowing you to swing +5 Passive damage with every attack while the Dance is active. While in a Weapon Dance, the use of any other skill removes you from the Weapon Dance, as does any effect which inhibits your movement. The Weapon Dance ends if you are not able to attack an enemy for 20 seconds.

Acrobatics (1 use): You may resist Slick, Slow, or Pin. You may also reduce falling or trap damage by half. 

• Expert (2 uses):  With 10 seconds of concentration, grant yourself the Levitate or Displacement ability (per the Air spells of the same name).
• Master (3 uses): With 10 seconds of concentration, enter an acrobatic/tumbling sequence. While in this sequence, you may move forward up to 10 steps.  During this sequence, any effect that hits you may be dodged per the Dodge skill (i.e., must be a dodgeable effect, you cannot dodge a Fireball with this skill).
• Grandmaster (4 uses): Declare “Evasive Maneuvers” and enter a series of defensive acrobatic maneuvers. While using Evasive Maneuvers, you may utilize a free Sidestep against any viable effect which hits you. While using Evasive Maneuvers, you may not attack or utilize any offensive abilities. Evasive Maneuvers will last until whichever of these happens first: You choose to end it, you attack or utilize an offensive ability, you are affected by a movement-impairing effect, or the encounter ends. 

In the northeastern parts of Andora is a moderate-sized forest. Many years ago, an adventurer in the area came upon a mysterious fountain which brought him luck and fortune. Around this fountain he built a small Abbey. Over time tales of the fountain and the Abbey spread, and the population of the Abbey grew as people moved to the area in the hopes of being blessed by the fountain’s rumored magical powers. The Abbey became known as the Abbey of the Astral Fountain. It is unknown where the fountain came from, who built it, or why it was created; but many scholars traveled to the Abbey to study it, and over time a small town grew in its shadow.

As the Abbey grew and became more organized, so did the small town outside the Abbey. Together they formed a mutually-beneficial relationship. The Abbey drew scholars, sightseers, traders, merchants, wizards, alchemists, and all sorts of other people. Along with those people came their needs: food, lodging, basic tools, and supplies. So it was that the Abbey drew the people; and the Village, which became known simply as the Village of Wildwood for the wild and dangerous forests nearby, provided for those who visited.

Several centuries ago, a race of bug-like creatures known as the Gretch descended upon the Abbey, devouring everything in their path. The Abbey marshaled its defenders and called out for aid. In its time of need when battle was most dire; a Gold Dragon named Ciammerryn, along with her Dragonborn followers, came to the Abbey’s aid. Ciammerryn was killed in the battle, but the Gretch were defeated. Ciammerryn’s surviving Dragonborn followers took up residence within the Abbey, being welcomed after the sacrifices they had made and the aid they had given; and for several centuries the Abbey and the Village of Wildwood prospered again.

Peace didn’t last forever, and a decade ago the Gretch returned; but this time no Dragon came to save the Abbey. A group of brave adventurers stood and fought valiantly against the Gretch, but alas the Gretch had grown too powerful. In what some call an act of desperation, the leaders of the Abbey destroyed the fountain; sending out a magical shockwave of energy that leveled the Abbey and destroyed most of the Gretch forces. With the fountain destroyed, the remaining Gretch fled back into the wilderness and the Abbey began to rebuild. Without the fountain however, very little of interest remained to draw people to the location; and over the next several years the Abbey of the Astral Fountain and the Village of Wildwood diminished.

This, however, is not where our story ends.

According to the Abbey scholars, the first official sightings were eight years ago; but some folk believe that the Abbey and the Village of Wildwood had been in contact with them before that. Strange creatures – part animal, part humanoid – had begun to appear in the forests around Wildwood. Some were part wolf, part Human. Others; part bear, part Elf. Over the next several years, the Beast-Kin, as they became known, slowly emerged from the forests of Wildwood.

There are two leading theories among the scholars. The first says that the Beast-Kin came to Sylvaris from another world through the destruction of the fountain. Something to do with a planar gate or a portal opening and bringing the Beast-Kin here. The second theory is that the shockwave of magical energy from the destruction of the fountain slowly granted the creatures that already resided in the forest with increased sentience and an altered form. In either case, the Beast-Kin were here, and Sylvaris would need to adapt.

For the next five years the Beast-Kin lived, evolved, and developed in the forests of Wildwood. Then one night they all started to travel south. When asked why, they simply responded that they felt a pull to go someplace but did not know why.

The Beast-Kin of Wildwood followed the river south for several days until they came to a large inland lake with a forested island at the center. All around the lake other Beast-Kin had gathered from other parts of Sylvaris; and like the Beast-Kin of Wildwood, they too had followed a yearning, an unexplained pull to come to this place. It was a strange but wonderful time for the Beast-Kin of Sylvaris; as others of their kind from all over had gathered in one place and they discovered that their diversity would become their strength.

For several weeks they waited on the shores of the lake until the day of the full moon. On that day they all traveled to the island. Those who could swim, swam. Those who could not, built small rafts. Those who could do neither were given passage to the island. As the sun set on that day, every Beast-Kin that had previously gathered at the lake ended up on the island and all non-Beast-Kin who were present were politely asked to stay behind.

What took place upon that island is not recorded anywhere; but as scholars retraced the dates in history it was discovered that the full moon was exactly ten years after the destruction of the fountain. For two nights, the Beast-Kin stayed on the island; and on the morning of the third day, they slowly began to leave the island, travel from the lake, and return to wherever they called home.

Very little was learned about what took place on the island; but the Beast-Kin told all those who were present that the island was sacred to them and that they would guard and protect it against all those who trespassed upon it. The gathering itself became known as the Great Moot; an event that the Beast-Kin explained would happen every ten years as a gathering of their race to discuss the welfare of Sylvaris, forge bonds as a race, and choose its elders. Each type of Beast-Kin had chosen its three strongest and its three wisest. Of those six; three would stay upon the island to tend to it, protect it, and watch over its well-being for the next ten years. The other three would go out into the world and guide their people, helping them to find their place in the Sylvaris.

So it was that the first Great Moot had concluded. The Beast-Kin had found their place as a people and had dedicated themselves to guarding the wild places of Sylvaris. From that day forward; when other races took too much from the land, the Beast-Kin would appear and set things right. When other races abused the land, the Beast-Kin would arrive and restore it. When Sylvaris needed healing or called out for aid, the Beast-Kin would always come. From that day forward, the Beast-Kin were Sylvaris and Sylvaris was the Beast-Kin.

Makeup & Costuming:

Makeup appropriate to the type of animal you are Kin with: Tail, Ears, Horns, etc …  Please acknowledge that writing the specifics of every possible type of animal is not possible, however we do expect more than just a bit of makeup.  If you are unsure what is appropriate or if you feel you do not have enough to distinguish your Kin, please consult a GM or an Immersion Marshal.  

{Only real-world animals are allowed; for example, no unicorn-kin or phoenix-kin.  Please avoid Lizard-Kin or Butterfly-Kin as they very closely-mimic other PC races.  Obtain GM approval before making a Snake-Kin or Frog-Kin as they very closely-resemble some of Sylvaris’ antagonist races.}

Racial Skills

Innate

• Passive: Short Claws (base 2 damage).
• Active: One use of Animal Ken per encounter.

Guardian of Sylvaris (1 use): Resist Disease.

• Expert (2 uses):  Resist Corruption.
• Master (3 uses): All Drain is considered Vorpal for the encounter.
• Grandmaster (4 uses): Immune to Disease and Corruption, all Drain Life is considered Vorpal, and Immune to all other types of Drain for the encounter.

Wrath of Sylvaris (1 use): +10 Claw damage for next 3 swings.

• Expert (2 uses): +20 Claw damage for next 3 swings.
• Master (3 uses):  +50 Claw damage for next 3 swings.
• Grandmaster (4 uses): +100 Claw damage for next 3 swings.

“Good… morning, sir. Time to rise and…. shine.” Bizzlebuzz said as he lifted his friend’s tent flap and walked inside. The scent of eggs and bacon wafted gently along with the plate of food he carried.

“In preparation for this morning’s … combat activities, I have laid out your … mechanized armor … your favorite light crossbow, you know the … one with the green cross piece. I have also set out three extra … sets of bolts, and your toolbelt and maintenance repair … kit.

“As for myself, I have chosen the larger shield with the standard clockwork insignia of your House along with the size … 12 blocking … mace. My calculations indicate that to be the most effective … weapon in keeping you safe from the Fibian … assault.”

While they were a newer model and had only been in service to House Torkwrench for a few months prior to the Fibian invasion, the war had now been ongoing for almost two years and Bizzlebuzz felt it was their duty to ensure their master was protected and taken care of. Bizzlebuzz took a few moments and calculated these feelings. They knew that, in theory, the Gnomish masters had designed Clockworks so they would be predisposed to helping Gnomes and would give their lives for any Gnome in danger. While that may have accounted for their decisions to some extent, Bizzlebuzz was confident that they were making these choices of their own volition. Satisfied with that assessment, the bronze-skinned Clockwork went about continuing to prepare for the upcoming battle.

Clockworks had only been in existence for slightly over a decade. The first Clockwork had been activated by the Father of all Clockworks, Tilton Tinderspark, for the purpose of easing the lives of Gnomes throughout the Empire.

Tilton’s creation was such a great success that within a few months dozens of Clockworks had been created and sold to the wealthy Gnomes, Dwarves, and Halflings throughout the Empire of Cyngar. Repair shops had even started to spring up around the major cities where owners could have their Clockwork assistants serviced from time-to-time.

Within a year, Clockworks were as prominent in the Empire of Cyngar as other races. Within two years, they were more common than outside races. And over the next five years, the Clockwork-Gnome relationship grew and strengthened. Clockworks all around the Empire became more advanced as the craftiest Gnomes improved on Tilton’s original design.

Then, the Fibians appeared from out of the seas. With indifference and ferocity, they swept through the Orc Lands to the east; pushing the Orcs out of their ancestral home to seek amnesty within the Empire. Then, the Fibians kept advancing into the Empire of Cyngar itself, wreaking devastation in its border towns. Clockworks within those areas were smashed apart while trying to protect their masters. For two months, the Fibians and their minions destroyed village after village; and every defense the army of Cyngar made was easily defeated by the Fibians and their armies of ooze. All of them, that is, until the Battle of Juxtaposition.

Juxtaposition was a small magical research station that just happened to be between where the Fibians were, and where they wanted to go. As a research station, it had a large number of Clockwork assistants dedicated to the care and well-being of the Gnomes stationed there. Nobody seems to know for certain what happened during the Battle of Juxtaposition. Some say it was a magical anomaly, others say it was the cruelty with which the Fibians were torturing the Gnomes – feeding them to thier slime minions, whatever it was, it changed the Clockworks forever.

At some point during the Battle of Juxtaposition, the Clockworks gained full sentience and autonomy from their original design purpose. Not only that, but they were able to use that independence to take up arms and defend the research station … an action that before that day no Clockwork had ever done, take up arms and harm another living creature. Prior to that moment, many Clockworks had been destroyed standing between their Gnomes and the Fibian onslaught; but they had not been able to fight or defend. Now, however, the Fibians had never seen such dedication and battle prowess among the Clockworks before. The shock of the Clockwork assault was enough to break their ranks and halt the Fibian attack long enough for the Cyngar army to take up a defensive position and stall the Fibian advance.

The surviving Clockworks were sent to the Capitol for research and analysis of the incident. As the Clockworks from Juxtaposition entered the City, every Clockwork within the Capitol instantly gained awareness and independence. It was not long before every Clockwork in every City throughout the Empire had been awakened. Research is still being done to this day, but the prevailing theory is that somehow the Clockworks had become infused with a high concentration of Life Energy or Life Magic.

While the war raged on, the Clockworks took up arms and joined the battle to defend their creators. In the Council Chambers around the Empire, discussions began to take place regarding Clockwork rights and if the Clockworks should be granted full citizenship within the Empire. There was even a question of, one day, adding the Clockworks to the Council.

Many thought such decisions were best handled during times of peace when they can be discussed and considered without wartime bias. The Clockworks, displeased by the delays and after more then a year of constant fighting alongside the armies of Cyngar, suddenly walked off the battlefield on the eve of a great battle.

The Council called for an emergency session and worked through the night, so that at 5am the morning before the battle, they released the Proclamation of Clockwork Consideration. It was a public decree that all Clockworks were equal citizens within the Empire of Cyngar, effective immediately, and their aid was requested in the coming battle defending the Empire.

Bizzlebuzz lifted the tent flap and peered into the sky. Based on the position of the sun, it was 6am. The Fibian war horns sounded in the distance. They were beginning to muster for battle. Bizzlebuzz had been a citizen of Cyngar for less than an hour, but that was alright. It was a glorious day to fight alongside their fellow citizens of Cyngar in defense of their Empire.

Makeup & Costuming:

Metallic-colored skin and a minimum of two gears visible on the face (either prosthetic gears or makeup gears are acceptable).

Racial Skills

Clockworks are Immune to traditional Healing. Instead, they need to be repaired. All Life Points can be regained through refitting them like armor. This means Clockworks have two refit-able numbers; one is their Armor Points which represents their armored skin, and the other is Life Points which represents their inner gears. Any effect which “repairs Armor Points” can be applied to either internal or external armor, but the excess does not transfer between them (for example, if a Clockwork has taken 10 Life Points worth of damage and 20 Armor Points worth of damage, it would take two repair or refit effects to restore those, one for Life and one for Armor).

Innate

• Passive: +10 Innate Armor.
• Active: One use of Intercept per encounter.

Armor Plating: (1 use – Active): +10 Armor for the encounter or +20 Temporary Armor.  This skill replaces the Wear Armor skill for Clockworks, as their hard outer shell provides them inherent protection that works as a Basic Quality suit of Armor and has 1 Augment Slot.  This suit of Armor does not take up an attunement slot.

• Expert (Passive): +20 Armor and Armor Plating is now considered to be Expert Quality Armor.
• Master (Passive): +20 Armor and Armor Plating is now considered to Master Quality Armor.
• Grandmaster (Passive): +20 Armor and Armor Plating is now considered to be Grandmaster Quality Armor.

Protector (1 use): Detach some of your Armor Plating and have it swirl around the target by touching them, causing your Armor to suffer 10 points of damage to your normal armor (not temp), and granting the recipient 10 temporary Armor Points and causing the next strike against the recipient to deal minimal damage.   

• Expert (2 uses): Your Armor suffers 10pts of damage to your normal armor (not temp), granting the recipient 20 temporary armor points and causing the recipient to be immune to interruption of counted actions while the temporary armor remains.  
• Master (3 uses): Your Armor suffers 10pts of damage to your normal armor (not temp), granting the recipient 30 temporary armor points and allows the recipient to minimize one attack against them, by calling “minimal”, while the armor is still in effect.   
• Grandmaster (4 uses): Your Armor suffers 10pts of damage to your normal armor (not temp), granting the recipient 50 temporary armor points, allowing them to minimize a single attack while the armor is in effect and avoid all interruption of counted actions while the temporary armor is in effect.

It is said that in the beginning two great stars, fleeing a great evil, fell from the sky and crashed into Sylvaris. According to the Dragons, these great stars were the eggs that gave birth to Malindeous, King of Dragons, creator of colors, protector of life; and Sindalla, Queen of Dragons, mother of scales, bringer of life. They saw before them a barren world in need of nurturing and protecting. They had evaded the great evil, but they must prepare should it ever find them. Thus, they created ten Dragons, each with a purpose to aid them in their task.

Aurix, Gold-scaled and powerful in the arcane arts. Known as the Champion of Magic. According to all Dragons, Aurix is responsible for opening the conduits of magic into Sylvaris.

Paranthia, Silver-scaled and dedicated to guarding against the great evil that comes from the darkness. Known as the Twilight Shield. Paranthia is the wielder of Sin’Rex’Dar, the Shield of Moonlight’s Barrier, a relic forged by Aeranos and said to be crafted from the very eggshells of Sindalla’s birth.

Aeranos, Bronze-scaled and gifted in working metals. Known as the Anvil of Justice. Aeranos is said to be the one who forged the ancient laws of Dragonkind.

Valkoria, Copper-scaled and light-of-heart. Known as the Lucky Companion. Valkoria is said to have mastered the Chains of Entropy, bringing good fortune upon Dragonkind. Merriment and friendship follow her wherever she goes and she reminds the other Dragons to occasionally stop their work and enjoy that which they have created; for creating without merriment can quickly become enslavement.

Eolas, Brass-scaled and great of thought. Known as the Ancient Scribe. Eolas is said to be the wisest and most knowledgeable of all Dragons. He is rumored to have mastered the Scrolls of Fate, an ancient text from before the first eggs landed. It is said that within the Scrolls of Fate; the past, present, and future are one. Those who have mastered the Scrolls not only have the power to change destiny and fate, but often the wisdom not to do so.

Maldraxus, Red-scaled and strong of might. Known as The Avenging Flame. He brought fire to the world. Maldraxus is the wielder of Mal’Rex’Dar, the Sword of Radiant Flames, a relic forged by Aeranos and said to be crafted from the very eggshells of Malindeous’ birth.

Samaxis, Black-scaled and quiet as a shadow. Known as the Eyes into the Darkness. He is the sentry that watches for the great evil to return, the one who would warn all of Dragonkind that the evil had found them. Said to possess the Blades of Krish’naka, ancient blades found upon Sylvaris from a time before the Dragons. The powers of these Blades are unknown, and the Eyes into the Darkness is happy to keep it that way.

Sombraxia, White-scaled and filled with hope and imagination. Known as The Eternal Dream. Sombraxia was charged with keeping all of Dragonkind filled with hope and looking forward. She brings new ideas, innovation, and change wherever she travels.

Venoxis, Green-scaled and filled with growth. Known as the Essence of Nature. Venoxis was charged with overseeing the growth of Sylvaris. She ensured the trees would grow, the animals would breed, and that game was plentiful. Venoxis provided food and resources in abundance for all of Dragonkind for she possessed the Cornucopia of Plenty, a basket that every day would fill with wondrous fruits and vegetables. Together Venoxis and Sombraxia created many new plants for the world of Sylvaris.

Sycoris, Blue-scaled and filled with renewal. Known as the Cleansing Cycle. Sycoris was charged with overseeing the climate of Sylvaris. She would ensure the rain would come, that winds would blow, and the sun would shine through the clouds. Her rains would cleanse the lands of physical ills, while also cleansing the minds of the creatures of Sylvaris.

With the creation of the first Dragons completed; Sindalla, Melendious, and their children began working to create life upon Sylvaris. They created the trees and plants, the animals and the fish, the oceans and the rivers, the clouds and the winds, the gemstones and metals within the earth, and many of the things that made Sylvaris what it is today. After all of this work, they looked with pride and love upon what they had created. It was a labor of love, and one worthy of protecting. The great evil had not found them, but should that day come, they must be ready to defend that which they had created.

Thus, the Dragons met in Council and deliberated upon the best ways to protect and watch over that which they had created and come to love. The Council decided that each of the ten children would be allowed to create ten children of their own to aid them in watching over the world.

So it was that Aeranos created the first hatchery, and each of the first-born Dragons placed some mark of themselves within the hatchery. Some to protect, some to nurture, but all with love and kindness. When the hatchery was ready, each of the first-born Dragons created ten eggs within the hatchery. Over time the eggs matured and grew, eventually hatching into the 100 Dragons. These Dragons grew up together and learned much from each other, and the family of Dragons became stronger from the creation of these 100 Dragons. These Dragons learned from their mothers and fathers of the great world, Sylvaris, which had been created by them. They learned of each Dragon’s aspect within the world and how they had been hatched to aid in maintaining that aspect to protect Sylvaris.

These 100 Dragons learned and matured quickly. Upon reaching maturity the first-born Dragons opened the hatchery and the 100 entered into the world. They spread quickly across Sylvaris, each claiming some area of the world to watch over their individual aspect. For a time, things were good, the Dragons and Sylvaris prospered and many new Dragons were born from the mating of the 100. Eventually the Dragons began to realize that while they had each claimed an area of Sylvaris to watch over, the charge they had been given was to aid in maintaining an aspect of the world not just within one region. Sylvaris was beginning to falter; for while each region had a few aspects that were well-maintained, it took all of the aspects to sustain the harmony. The 100 cried out to the first-born asking for a solution, for they wished not to leave the lairs they had built within their regions.

Once again, the first-born Dragons met in Council to deliberate and discuss the issues facing Sylvaris. It was decided that each of the 100 would be allowed to give birth to 1000 children; but each of these children must be the merging of two Dragons and must remain small so as not to overburden the resources of Sylvaris. They would be created in the likeness of Dragons, but not be Dragons. They would need to be able to spread across Sylvaris and aid in caring for it. They would be assistants to the 100, just as the 100 were assistants to the 10.

So it was that the Dragonborn came to be. Created from the magic of the 100 with purpose and power to aid in nurturing and maintaining Sylvaris. One hundred times one thousand Dragonborn came to be upon Sylvaris. Harmony was once again restored, Sylvaris prospered, and the Dragons swelled with pride at all they had accomplished.

Makeup & Costuming:

Skin the color of the appropriate element (see below) with Scale Patterns, and Wings (minimum 15” wingspan) and/or a Tail

Racial Skills:

All Dragonborn are innately attuned to a specific element based upon the color of their scales. The color listed should be the predominant base makeup color.  Scales must be a different color than the base color. 
Air = Silver, Death = Purple, Earth = Green, Fire = Gold, Life = White, Water = Blue

Innate

• Passive: Short Claws (base 2 damage).
• Active: One use of Magic per encounter, spellbook not required.

Breath Weapon (1 use): Single Packet 25.

• Expert (2 uses): Three consecutive packets of 25.
• Master (3 uses): Frontal Cone 50.
• Grandmaster (4 uses): Frontal Cone 50 Magic.

<Element’s> Gift (1 use): Innate cast a Basic spell

• Expert (2 uses): Innate cast an Expert spell.
• Master (3 uses): Innate cast a Master spell.
• Grandmaster (4 uses): Innate cast a Grandmaster spell.

Branwen looked up at the night sky and adjusted the armor that marked her as a soldier in the Grand Army of Cyngar.  Tonight, though assigned to the Night’s Watch, the chill autumn breeze that caressed her face was relaxing.  She stiffened and gripped her spear more tightly as she heard noise in the distance and sensed motion to her right.

Her eyes scanned the area, taking in the faint firelight from the Fibian camp across the way.  A slight shadow dimmed the light, too delicate to be a Fibian and too tall to be one of those wretched little sneak-thief Goblins.  Branwen continued to follow the sound, changing her grip on the spear, when a pale, lithe humanoid stepped from the shadows not 20 feet away.  Branwen chuffed a curse quietly under her breath as the figure continued to glide through the starlight of the open battlefield.

Cursed Erid and their crazy ways.  Nothing more than vultures, if you asked Branwen, showing up at battles without taking up arms or taking sides.  They just arbitrarily choose fallen combatants to join some corpse brigade for an imaginary army for some imaginary future war.

Branwen cursed the superstitious Totemics and their demand to allow the vultures to perform their task unharmed.  She cursed the Fibian for starting this war and for pushing Cyngar to the point where they needed help from the Totemics at all.  She cursed them all for putting her out in this damned wilderness standing watch for the night instead of at home tucking her children into bed and telling them stories.

Branwen’s mind strayed to her children back at Hearthhome, safe under the care of her brother.  She had deployed with her husband, Durov, at the start of the war but he’d been two years dead.  His head had been caved in by a crushing blow from a brutish Fibian with one eye during the very first battle.  The thought of what something like that Fibian might do to her beloved children back home kept her angry and that anger kept her fighting.  There were notches on her spear, each one a dead Fibian and each one a mark toward her family’s safety.  Each one a sign of her dedication to the Empire and tomorrow, she planned to add more.

As the Erid passed from her sight, Branwen returned to the duty of her post.  Duty was what she had left out here; duty and the thoughts of her family.  That was enough for her.  The Halflings wouldn’t think so.  They would say she needed laughter and a good pint of ale.  Branwen cocked her head as she thought, they weren’t wrong about the ale, but what was there to laugh about in times like these?  The Halflings were good folk, she supposed.  They made a mighty fine stew, regardless of what was happening in the war.  They always had a smile and a story to tell as they passed out the rations but maybe it was just easier when all you had to do was feed the troops, not bleed with them.  The old pain in her heart sprang from nowhere.  Halfling healers, BAH!  Nothing more than glorified cooks.  They couldn’t save her Durov.

She stifled a tear and adjusted her armor.  She had more faith in her armor and her own battle prowess to keep her safe than Halfling healers to keep her healthy.  Fine Dwarven weapons and armor, that would be what brought Branwen home to her children at the end of this war.   Solid Dwarven craftsmanship, that’s what would keep her safe and whole.  She glanced up at the tip of her spear, the grooves almost sparkled in the star light.  The grooves made it more dangerous against the Fibian, that was a nice little invention of the Gnomes.

Gnomes.  Now, that was a race that Branwen could respect.  They understood a hard day’s work.  They knew what it meant to get your hands dirty, and they also understood what it was going to take to win this war.  The Gnomes had an invention to test out in tomorrow’s battle; something they called a cannon. Only one had been made but it appeared solid and Branwen had seen Gnomish devices in battle before.  She knew what they could do … well, when they worked correctly.

The sun slowly began to peak over the horizon.  Branwen shook her head; she realized had been lost in her thoughts most of the night and morning was now here.  Behind her she could begin to hear her fellow soldiers starting to stir awake and the smell of breakfast reached her nose.  Moments later her blood ran cold for a moment as a Fibian war horn shattered the gentle rush of the morning.  Warmth rushed back into her hands and her blood began to stir.  The Fibian were mustering and it would be less than an hour now until the killing began.  Just enough time to get herself some of that bacon she had been smelling a moment ago.

Makeup & Costuming:

Full beard at least past the neck – OR – Long hair in multiple braids with beads in it

Racial Skills

Innate

• Passive: +10 armor points when wearing physical armor.
• Active: One use of Weapon Damage per encounter.

Dwarven Forged (1 use): Grant a weapon or armor a single Resist Shatter for the re-pop.

• Expert (2 uses): Hasten an armor refit – OR – Fix a shattered weapon so it becomes usable again for the encounter or until it becomes shattered again.
• Master (3 uses): Grant a single weapon or suit of armor immunity to shatter for the encounter.
• Grandmaster (4 uses): Refit your armor on a 3-count.

Dwarven Resolve (1 use): Resist Disease or Fear.

• Expert (2 uses): Resist Charm.
• Master (3 uses): Resist Poison.
• Grandmaster (4 uses): Grant yourself immunity to either Disease, Fear, Charm, or Poison for the encounter.

Elion stared into the pool of water, his magic revealing a scene of armies preparing for battle. On one side of the pool, the armies of Cyngar and the Orcs stood in a defensive formation preparing for the coming assault. On the other side, the Fibian forces attacked; launching catapult barrages filled with red and green slimes the size of an Elf’s head. The slimes landed far short of the Cyngar lines, but their purpose was not to hit the lines. The catapults were simply a means of rapidly advancing the slimes across the battlefield. As the slimes hit the ground they began rolling and squirming forward at a much faster pace than would be expected of slimes. Cyngar’s mages responded with a volley of fire arrows and various magics, easily destroying the first wave of undulating slimes; but Elion knew that the Fibians would launch many more waves in order to tire the defenders and expend their resources.

Elion waved his hand over the pool of water causing the images to shimmer and disappear. The battle was of interest to him but it would last most of the day and he did not need to watch every moment of it; especially the early stages. Elion and his people were safe from a battle taking place Kingdoms away and not involving the Elves of the Xin’Thar Forest. However, the effect upon the world at large did concern Elion. Why had the Fibians awoken and marched from the northern seas to assault the Orc Lands and Cyngar? On the surface, this appeared a simple assault for land and resources like any other war, but Elion suspected differently.

As an Elf, Elion had lived for hundreds of years and, by Elven standards, only just reached middle age. He had seen war before; Sylvaris had plenty of those. He had also read about the Fibians in the Elven libraries and witnessed stories of them from the Elven Image Shapers who used magic to show a story as it was told. If the Fibians simply sought land and resources there were much easier targets closer to the waters they came from. The northern coast of the Orc Lands had been raided by the Fibians at the start of the war, but for the most part it was largely ignored. Elion also knew that the Fibians were not the brutish monsters that some would believe. They were cunning adversaries with intellect to match that of any other race. If they wished for resources and land they could have fed off the Orc Lands for many years to come without ever inciting Cyngar to join the fight.

Elion pulled a rolled-up parchment from a shelf in his study. Unrolling it and laying it out on the table, it displayed the known world of Sylvaris. Waving his hands over the map and calling forth some simple magic, the map began to glow and show where the Fibians had first assaulted the Orc Lands and the path they had taken since then. Elion studied the map, looking for a pattern to the attacks or a purpose. The Fibian assault made a clear path toward Cyngar; but why? Why were the Fibians marching on Cyngar? Continuing to study the map, he glanced past Cyngar. What if it wasn’t Cyngar they were after at all? What if it was something else entirely and Cyngar just happened to be in the way?

If the Fibians turned west once they entered the Kingdom of Cyngar, then the giant city of Grand Centralia could be the target. While possible it seemed very unlikely. Grand Centralia was a bastion of neutrality in almost everything, and while centrally-located between three Kingdoms that was not enough for the Fibians to care. West past that was the Kingdom of Andora; a long-prosperous Kingdom, but also a rather powerful one. If resources were the goal, there were easier targets. The Totemic Lands were north of Andora and west of the Orc Lands; but if that was the goal, why strike into the Orc Lands at all instead of just starting your assault on the Totemic Lands which are also on the northern coast of Sylvaris?

Elion blinked, and then blinked again. The answer had been staring him in the face this whole time. He must tell someone, the Council needed to know. Pulling out a shallow bowl and filling it with water, Elion traced his hands over the bowl and spoke the magical incantations. The image of another Elf appeared in the water. Elion spoke quietly and rationally to the image of the Elf, and after a few minutes the conversation was over and the image faded.

Elion slid the bowl away and began making preparations for his visitors. He had contacted one of the High Magi of Xin’Thar and requested the opportunity to present his findings before taking them to the Council and, perhaps, to the Queen herself. It could take years to have his theories validated; Elion knew that Elves rarely moved quickly, but this might just be an exception. Elion sighed for a moment, wishing he had access to the ancient magics he had read about. Magics that would allow him to see the future and help him predict if his theory was correct or not.

As an Elf, Elion was tied to the ancient magics in a way that no other Race, except perhaps the Dragonkin, were. The ancient magics of Sylvaris were those of the elements bonded together in form and function. According to the stories, great things were possible with these magics. Much of that magic was lost, though. None felt that loss as greatly as the Elven people; for magic was intrinsic in their lives, it sang in their blood. The ancient Elves of Sylvaris had become one with magic, so the stories told. Remnants of the magic still flowed through Elven veins, but greatly diminished. All Elves could perform magic, but not all Elves excelled at magic. Weaving different magics together had become more difficult and to combine more than two magics in anything but Ritual form proved disastrous.

Elion halted on that tangent and refocused. Deal with the present, learn from the past, look to the future. That was the Elven motto, and dwelling upon the past served no purpose right now. He waved his hands and spoke a simple incantation causing the room to straighten itself up, chairs to move to the table, and a tea kettle to begin bubbling. Just as the tea kettle whistled, a soft knock came from the door.

Elion waved his hand and the door quietly opened to reveal the Elf he had spoken with in the bowl of water. She nodded politely in greeting to Elion and with a soft motion of her hand the tea kettle lifted into the air and poured the hot water into a pair of cups. A single flicking motion of her finger and wisps of air in the shape of bees lifted small globs of honey and dropped them into the teacups, which then floated over to herself and Elion.

She looked at the map on the table and turned to Elion with one eyebrow raised. “I see you have been busy. Tell me what you think you have learned.”

Elion quietly cleared his throat and locked eyes with his friend, confidently revealing to her, “I believe the Fibians are headed for Val’Therin.”

Makeup & Costuming:

Pointed Ears

Racial Skills

Innate

• Passive:  Start knowing one additional language.  Touch an item and spend a 10 count to determine if an item is magical.  If an item is magical, examine an item for 5 minutes to learn what powers the item possesses.
• Active: One use of a single elemental (Air, Earth, Fire, or Water) Magic per encounter, spellbook not required.

Ancient Magic (1 use): Cast a Basic Elemental Spell; spellbook required.

• Expert (2 uses): Cast an Expert Elemental Spell; spellbook required.
• Master (3 uses): Cast a Master Elemental Spell; spellbook required.
• Grandmaster (4 uses): Cast a Grandmaster Elemental Spell; spellbook required.

Friend of the Forest (1 use): Packet Charm – Ignore Plant.

• Expert (2 uses): Packet Charm – Befriend Plant.
• Master (3 uses): Treewalk – Allows the elf to step into a tree on a 3-count if that tree is larger than the elf. After a short time, they step out of another tree which is larger than the elf and which they are familiar with. This works like the Master Technique of the Blink skill but is self-only and utilizes a tree instead of a portal. An elf may familiarize themselves with one (1) tree per level of this skill.
• Grandmaster (4 uses): Tree Portal – This works the same as the Master Technique except it opens a 5-minute portal which anyone can use on a 3-count to travel from tree to tree.

Quinn pulled the covers over his body and snuggled deeply into his bed.  It had been a long day and this rest was well-deserved.  Closing his eyes, he let his mind drift off into a blissful rest.

The next morning the same figure unwrapped herself from the covers slowly waking up to the sounds of morning.  Last night they went to sleep as Quinn, this morning they awoke as Deja; that was just how it was some days as Erid.  Many of the other races considered it strange, but it was as normal as anything else where Deja was from.  The Erid of the Crystal Spire changed gender as their subconscious felt the need.  Still the same person.  Still lithe and athletically-built, albeit with some noticeable changes.  Still pale-faced with grey-to-black patterns, again slightly shifted.  Quinn’s facial patterns displayed as a black diamond on each cheek, the forehead, and the chin.  Deja’s facial patterns tended to be more muted, displaying two grey swirls on the forehead and three black lines across each cheek.

Deja Quinn, as they were known among the Erid, shifted forms regularly.  Sometimes as much as four to five times a week.  While it was uncommon for Erid to shift as often as Deja Quinn did, it was not considered strange or unusual.  Some Erid never shifted, others shifted less often; but the one thing they all had in common was that the shift only happened while they slept.  To the Erid it is just the way things are and it is no more worth discussing than the color of a Human’s hair or the length of an Elf’s ears.  What truly matters to Erid is something simply known as “The Foretold.”

Before anyone can truly understand what The Foretold is, they need to understand that the Erid are a deeply-magical people.  Not in the same way the Elves are magical, or the Dragonborn are magical.  Some Erid are inherently-blessed with visions of the future.  These prophetic Erid have guided their race for centuries.  Most Erid believe the visions come from the stars; and as such have a deep connection to the night sky, the stars, the moon, and the constellations of Sylvaris.  The Erid are also some of the most potent life and death mages within all of Sylvaris.  It is said that they possess the power to preserve life even past death and that in the case of those deemed worthy, they will enact such magics; saving them so that they may take part in The Foretold.

Now that these concepts are better understood; the story of The Foretold can be further explained.  Centuries ago, a great Erid prophet named Yasmin Ulgath saw a vision of a terrible war that would one day consume all of Sylvaris.  The enemy was unclear; but in the vision, Yasmin Ulgath saw that the only way to save Sylvaris and its people was through an army the likes of which the world had never seen.  An army of fallen heroes.  In this vision, Yasmin Ulgath was blessed with the knowledge to enact Rituals of life and death magic upon the recently-deceased that would allow them to be healed, but would also place them into stasis – what the Erid call, “Preserved.”  It was through this process that the Erid were given the power to save Sylvaris from The Foretold coming of a great evil.

From that day forth, all Erid are taught the tale of Yasmin Ulgath and the prophecy known as The Foretold.  All Erid are also tasked with finding three worthy individuals to present for the Ritual of Preservation and earn a Mark.  Most fail in this task; but over the centuries the Erid have amassed quite a collection of fallen dead that are Preserved, only to be awakened at the time of The Foretold war.  Most who hear this tale think the ranks of the Preserved include only great warriors, but know that it also holds leaders, tacticians, crafters, healers, and mages.  The Erid understand that it takes more than great warriors to win a war.

Deja dressed quickly, putting on her hardened grey-toned leather armor and belting her short sword and dagger to her side.  As she flipped aside the flap of her tent, the cool breeze of the autumn air hit her face and displaced a few strands from her long, braided black hair.  At a nearby campfire her fellow Erid were enjoying breakfast and talking quietly about the battle to come.  All told, Deja was one of twenty-four Erid that had been sent to this battle by the elders.  It was a chance to score a Mark and earn a Preserved for each of them.  Battles were not uncommon in Sylvaris, but battles of this size were rare.  Deja quietly ate her breakfast while thinking about how nice it would be to return home and earn the first of her three Marks.  It was the quest of every Erid to achieve the three Marks.  Each Mark signified that they had found a fallen person worthy of being Preserved and had brought the body back to the Crystal Spire.  A Mark is the only color that will display on the face of an Erid; and while the Mark may appear in different shades of color from Erid to Erid, they always appear first as red, second as blue, and third as purple.  As she finished the last bite of her breakfast, Deja contemplated what her face would look like in the mirror with a red Mark on it, wondering what shape the red Mark would take.

‘Just in time’, she thought as she set her bowl aside to the sound of the Fibian war horns.  In the distance she could just begin to make out the echo of their war drums pounding, signaling the advance to battle.  On the other side of the field a clear note rang out from the forces of the Cyngar Dwarves, Gnomes, and Halflings, as well as their Totemic and Orcish Allies, prepared for the Fibian assault.

Deja looked around at her fellow Erid.  They nodded to each other and then split into groups of three, spreading out to gain vantage over the entire battlefield; spirit whistles at the ready.  If a potential worthy candidate revealed themselves this day, the whistles would sound and the Erid would descend to take them to the Crystal Spire; by force if necessary.

Makeup & Costuming:

White, grey, or black face designs/patterns.

Racial Skills

Innate

• Passive: Heal 5 Life on a 60-count; if they possess the Healing skill this effect is Hastened.
• Active: One use of Death Magic per encounter, spellbook not necessary.

Celestial Guidance (1 use): Call upon Aries to Resist Charm or call upon Virgo to packet deliver a Charm – Pacify.

• Expert (2 uses): Call upon Scorpio to coat a weapon with a deadly poison (Expert level Aqua Mortis recipe). 
• Master (3 uses): Call upon Pisces to gain insight on an issue (works per the Glimpse ability of the Augury skill).
• Grandmaster (4 uses): Call upon all of the constellations to grant Inspiration and restore 4 uses of a single skill to yourself or another target.

Life & Death (1 use): Deliver a killing blow to a living creature to heal yourself to ½ your total life.

• Expert (2 uses): Deliver a killing blow to a living creature to heal yourself to ½ your total life, and gain a single Spellstrike 25 Harm for the encounter.
• Master (3 uses): Deliver a killing blow to a living creature to heal yourself to ½ your total life, and gain a single Spellstrike 25 Harm for the encounter, and gain a single Resist Death for the encounter.
• Grandmaster (4 uses): Deliver a killing blow to a living creature to heal yourself to full life, and gain a single Spellstrike 25 Harm for the encounter, and gain a single Resist Death for the encounter – OR – deliver a killing blow to a living creature and Spellstrike or touch-cast Raise Dead another living creature.

Flutterwing watched as the hunting party worked its way through the forest following the tracks her friend Bosco had left for them. She smiled to herself from up in the treetops as she called upon her Air Magic, spread her gossamer wings, and glided from one tree to the next; keeping a close eye on the snake people.

It was not common for the snake people of Yuan to come to the forest, but it was also not unheard of. They came seeking Fae that they could enslave and take home to sell. Normally they would journey north through Andora posing as simple merchants until they reached the edge of the Faewood. Then they would reveal their true intent as they set up a small hidden camp on the edge of the forest and began sending out hunting parties in search of Fae or the magical creatures that lived in the forest with the Fae.

The magical creatures would sell for a premium back in Yuan, or in Jex’kor, or to the mages of Thuld. That was precisely why the slavers were here; they knew that they could profit if they managed to succeed. Flutterwing and Bosco intended to make sure they did anything but succeed.

Flutterwing and Bosco were both members of the Faeguard, an organized group of Fae in service to the Grove of She’a’Ka; dedicated to protecting the forest, the Fae, and the magical creatures that lived within the Faewood. Flutterwing used her Air Magic and her nimbleness to keep watch from the treetops and Bosco provided the ground support. His cloven hooves allowed him a great deal of speed in the forest and were often mistaken for other highly-prized forest animals like unicorns or white stags. They made a good team!

Each year more and more slavers came to the forest seeking quick profits at the cost of the forest’s inhabitants. The Faeguard were stretched thin at times, but that made the work all the more important and valuable in the eyes of Flutterwing. This particular group of slavers did not seem very skilled, but even an unskilled group could have a lucky day if the Faeguard wasn’t on the lookout. Unfortunately for them, today was not one of those days.

Flutterwing glided to the next tree and stopped to summon forth a Wind Sprite to deliver a message to Bosco. The slavers were getting close and she wanted to make sure he was ready when they finally arrived. A few moments later the Sprite returned to relay to Flutterwing that Bosco was in position. She smiled as she thought about what lay ahead for the half snake-half human slavers. They had brought curved swords, crossbows with poison bolts, nets, and manacles; with the intent of using them on peaceful creatures who were simply living. All for the sake of a few Silvari, the small silver coins used by the Kingdoms of Sylvaris as currency. These snake people deserved what they were going to get!

One of the snake people stopped for a moment and made some hand motions to the others; they began to fan out as though to be prepared for what they thought was ahead. Not long after she started tracking them, Flutterwing had already determined which one was the leader. Now she focused her attention on that one and prepared her magic.

The snake people moved forward into a small forest clearing expecting to find a unicorn, stag, or some other hooved creature. Flutterwing smiled in delight as she heard the roar of the giant owlbear den they had disturbed. She could only imagine the looks on their faces as they charged into the clearing expecting to find simple prey and instead were confronted by an angry pair of owlbears; and the armored, great mace-wielding Satyr, Bosco. As she smiled at what she could only imagine were snake people faces in surprise and horror, she unleashed her own magic upon the leader of the slave band. Bolts of lightning crackled from her fingertips and scorched the snake person, his charred and blackened body crumpling to the ground like a wiggleworm on a hot summer day.

It was all over in a matter of seconds; eight dead slavers, a few cuts and scrapes for the owlbears, a poisoned bolt in the leg for Bosco. Flutterwing called on her Air Magic, extended her wings, and floated down to the forest floor. She quickly rushed over to Bosco and called upon her Life Magic to neutralize the poison from the crossbow bolt and then went about removing the bolt and wrapping his leg in a bandage from her satchel. Flutterwing looked up at Bosco and then over to the owlbears with a frown. She was never very good with the creatures of the Faewood. Bosco knew that, and that was okay because he excelled with them.

Bosco stood and limped over to the owlbears, gently cooing and making soft noises at them as he approached. They visibly relaxed and lay down after a few seconds, he then motioned Flutterwing over. She timidly approached the two creatures while rummaging through her medicine satchel to retrieve the simple salve she would apply to the wounds that would ease the stinging pain and help prevent the wound from getting infected. It would be a lot easier if she could just use her Magic to heal the wounds; but she was under strict orders to use her Magic sparingly, and only if absolutely necessary. The Faeguard was stretched thin. The contents of her medicine satchel would do the job here, but it could not save those suffering from deadly wounds; her magic could, and there was no way to tell if her and Bosco would be called upon to defend the Faewood and its inhabitants again today.

She finished applying the salve, put away her supplies, and sat down to relax. That was when a small Wind Sprite flitted up to her and Bosco. In its high-pitched voice it explained that they were needed on the southern side of the forest as soon as possible. One of the scouts had picked up ghoul tracks and word had reached the commander of an undead Dragonborn leading the ghouls.

Flutterwing looked over to Bosco with concern in her eyes. He waved her away and gently stood, testing his leg to see how bad the wound was. The pain was gone and it had already started to mend itself. Within an hour or so he would be good as new. Flutterwing gave him a fake smile as she pulled in her Magic and opened a shimmering circular Portal that would take them directly to the southern Faeguard Outpost. Bosco wasted no time in stepping through. She gave one last look over her shoulder to make sure the owlbears would be okay and then stepped through the Portal thinking to herself, a Faeguard’s work is never done.

Makeup & Costuming:
Sparkly skin and gossamer/butterfly-like wings (minimum 15” wingspan) or small horns – OR – hoofed feet and small horns.

Racial Skills

Innate
Passive: Hide on a 5-count while in a wilderness setting.
Active: Cast a Basic Earth – OR – Air spell once per encounter, spellbook not necessary.

Fae Blessing (1 use): Grant a Regular Enhancement Slot.

• Expert (2 uses): Grant a Regular Enhancement Slot and place a Resist status effect into it.
• Master (3 uses): Grant a Regular Enhancement Slot and allow the Fae to expend uses (max 4) of another skill they possess to place a single use of that skill into that Regular Enhancement Slot.
• Grandmaster (4 uses): Grant a Universal Enhancement Slot.

Trickery of the Fae (1 use): Place an illusionary disguise on an item up to the size of a breadbox that makes it appear different for the encounter (this cannot drastically alter the shape or size of the item and is a purely RP effect) – OR – after talking to a target for 10 seconds, you can trick them into attacking someone else by delivering a Point Charm – Attack 5 Seconds.

• Expert (2 uses): If you are able to convince the target to eat or drink something you offered to them, they take an Unavoidable Charm – Corruption – OR – Transfer an Augmentation from one item to another for the re-pop.  Transferring an augment requires that you are touching both items and if you are transferring from an item that belongs to another character that character must be willing.
• Master (3 uses): Place a Displacement effect on the target (per the Air spell).
• Grandmaster (4 uses): Redirect any non-area of effect that targets you.

“The rescued are gathered, rested, and ready to hear from you, Commander,” said the small gray-green Gargoyle, their squat frame and tiny decorative wings marking them as a servant class. “Many of them look … afraid.”

“As they should be, Kraxxus,” said the large, armored Gargoyle looking over a worn table; an even more worn map spread out before him. The brazier flames reflected off his smooth slate stone skin. This one, this creation of earth; was made to be imposing, to invoke fear in enemies. But now, only concern and determination radiated from him. “I will be with them within moments. See that they remain calm.”

“Yes, Commander,” Kraxxus said, giving the much larger Gargoyle a slight bow before leaving the room.

He would have sighed had there been lungs in his chest, air to fill them, muscles to engage. Instead, he straightened his back, took up the great sword from the table, the wood groaning in relief from its weight removed, and rested it on his shoulder.

Stepping out from the room, he gave a look to the snow-covered peaks all around; the freezing wind breaking against his stone form with no more harm than a light fall breeze. The Kingdom of Frost; dangerous, barren, inhospitable to life … and perfect for those hewn from the earth. Thuld dare not send its delicate … weak … Mages to hunt his people here. Yet, close enough to strike back, find others like him, free them and see them thrive.

The courtyard spread out before him. His place on the overlooking balcony was more intimidating than he liked, but those assembled below needed to see strength; assurance that they could exist out from under the heels of the Mages of Thuld. The simmering fear and panic quieted, leaving only the biting wind.

He let moments pass, allowing those gathered to see the Gargoyle looking out over the crowd as though taking in each stone face there. His wings spread out behind him, slowly, to their full grandeur. There was much to his role that displeased him; but Kraxxus had taught him that theatrics worked, and he was unable to argue the results time and again.

As before when speaking to those newly freed, gasps and muttering rose from the crowd upon seeing the Gargoyle before them. They knew an exemplar of the warrior class stood on that balcony. Only the most powerful of Thuld dared make one such as they saw; as the magic to create, restrain, and control such a Gargoyle was impossible for most Mages.

“I am Sovereign,” the Gargoyle said, unmoving even as the winds caught his extended wings. “Commander of the First Free Legion. I welcome you to Hope’s Vigil. Those here will see to your safety, your lodgings, and to your place in this world without the words of Thuld echoing and creeping through your every thought.”

“So, we live here now?” came a voice from the crowd. Sovereign found the speaker, another of the warrior class.

“That is something you have now,” Sovereign said, catching the other’s eyes with his own. “Choice. We did not shatter one set of shackles only to burden you with another. You are all welcome here if you wish to stay. No one will stop you from leaving, from exercising the choices you now have. And none will shame you for using that freedom to explore this world now open to you.

“Should you stay, we ask of you only this: Help us to remain free, and to free those as others have freed you. It is dangerous, and we will see others fall, crumble, and fade into Last Repose. We defend ourselves, we defend the fragile and soft, as they are allies to us, and we defend freedom. Not just for us. We know the weight of the yoke and chain. We know the absence of will, our choices taken from us.” He caught the eyes of the warrior again. “And we know the hell of being used to kill, to murder the innocent, the brave, and the good in this world.”

He lifted his great sword high. “Know this; I am Sovereign and I will fight with you, always. I do not command from the safety of the tent, and I do not feel the warmth of the comforting fires of leadership. I am at your side, and face Last Repose with you all.”

Makeup & Costuming:
Gray skin with cracks, and leathery Wings (15” wingspan minimum), and/or horns.

Racial Skills

Innate

• Active: One use of Endurance per encounter.
• Passive: +1 Weapon Damage.

Broken Shackles (1 use): Resist any Charm or Weakness effect.

• Expert (2 uses): Make yourself Immune to Charm and Weakness for the encounter.
• Master (3 uses): Resist any magical effect.
• Grandmaster (4 uses): When struck by any packet-delivered effect, you may redirect that effect to another target either via packet or weapon strike. If you do not redirect it as the very next call you make, then the effect is simply resisted.

Hewn of Earth (1 use): Cast a Basic Earth Spell, spellbook not necessary.

• Expert (2 uses): Minimal any numerical damage effect – OR – Resist any Knockback or Taunt effect.
• Master (3 uses): Grant yourself a Stoneskin – OR – Resist a Surprise attack.
• Grandmaster (4 uses): Instantly, but not reactively, enter Statue Form.  You may not stay in Statue Form for more than five minutes.  While in Statue Form you cannot move or be moved, this includes using avoidance-based defenses.  While in Statue Form you are Immune to all damage / Disease / Killing Blows, are cured of any Disease, halt all Bleeding / Poison counts, and Heal to full Life Points after 60 seconds.  Statue Form does not occupy an Enhancement Slot and cannot be Disenchanted.

Bazil Torkwrench pulled the bandana from his head, revealing his bright blue hair, and wiped the grease from his face. It had been a long night. Shortly after dinner last night, the Clockworks had all walked off the battlefield and the rest of Cyngar’s armies prepared frantically for tomorrow’s battle well into the morning. Bazil sighed once, wrung out his bandana, took his toolbelt from his waist, and dropped it with a dull thud to the workbench. He then climbed into bed and was sound asleep soon after his head had touched the pillow.

“Good … morning, sir. Time to rise and … shine.”

A stilted, robotic voice pulled Bazil from his dreams. He opened his eyes and saw his Clockwork friend Bizzlebuzz setting down a tray with a teapot and a plate of eggs and bacon on it. Bizzlebuzz then moved about the tent, preparing Bazil’s weapons, armor, and his toolkit for the upcoming battle. His buzzing voice was usually a comforting and familiar morning drone as he narrated his actions, step-by-step. Today, however, short on sleep and only half awake, Brazil barely registered his friend’s presence.

Bazil yawned and rolled out of bed, still dressed in his rumpled work clothes from the night before. He poured himself a cup of steaming dark brown liquid from the teapot, sniffed at it, shrugged, and drank the coffee. Normally, he’d be aghast that someone would serve coffee from a teapot (that’s what coffee pots are for, after all); but this morning, he was just happy to have something hot in his cup to wake him up after such a late night.

Bizzlebuzz finished adjusting Bazil’s gear and went to leave. Bazil gave him a friendly wave with one hand, while trying to stifle a yawn with the other. As the tent flap closed, he thought to himself, Down to Business, Bazil. Number one, breakfast.

Bazil tucked into the eggs and bacon, knowing this could be his last meal and he might as well enjoy it while he could. As he washed down the last bit of bacon with his last sip of coffee, he checked off breakfast in his mental list and moved on to item number two. Get Dressed. Bazil strapped on his mechanized armor and slung the light crossbow that Bizzlebuzz had set out for him over his shoulder. He snapped on his toolbelt, adjusting it to sit comfortably on his hips, and grabbed the three extra sets of crossbow bolts, placing them in an orderly fashion into his quiver. He took a deep breath as he hefted his heavy maintenance repair kit into his arms, and – number three – made his way out of the tent.

Outside the tent Gnomes, Dwarves, Halflings, and Clockworks were rushing about preparing for the battle. It was strange that the Clockworks had returned after leaving mid-battle last night. Bazil filed that question away for later; hoping, of course, that he’d be around to puzzle it out later. As he began making his way towards his field unit, he overheard several of his fellow Gnomes mentioning that the enemy warhorns had sounded 13 minutes and 28 seconds ago; which based upon previous calculations meant they still had at least 29 minutes and 52 seconds before the Fibian attack and at most they had 48 minutes and 13 seconds.

Bazil smiled as he listened to the discussion, and it reminded him of why he fought in this war. The preservation of knowledge was of utmost importance, and the continuation of the advancement of knowledge via experimentation and exploration. Bazil reminded himself, The exploration of the physical world around us, as well as the magical and conceptual worlds are of equal importance. As far as Bazil understood things, the Fibians did not believe in science nor did they assign much value to knowledge, wanting only to return the world to some primordial soup. Which is hardly a way to progress a society, he thought wryly.

Up ahead, Bazil could see his ballista and its crew. He waved to the crew as he approached, taking a few minutes to double check all the preparations. The crew had 23 single shot javelins for dealing with large assailants; 14 bolt bundles for scattering shot to deal with ooze swarms; and three explosive-tipped spears, for shock and awe, if needed. They also had three extra ballista strings and a couple Scrolls of Mending in case emergency field repairs were needed. All-in-all, it was less than he had hoped they would have for the upcoming battle; but they would make do with what they had and improvise for anything else they needed.

Bazil asked his crew to load a bolt bundle in the launch chamber to start with while he looked over each member of his crew’s gear to ensure they had all of their personal arsenal in case the frontline got overrun and they ended up in close-quarters combat. Bazil shuddered at the thought of needing to try and fend off one of the engulfing, consuming gelatinous creatures with his little crossbow; but like a swarm of bees, Bazil and his squad had taken down its share of Fibian forces through crossbow volleys. It was just far more dangerous, he thought; and they all preferred the safety and distance of the ballista.

As Bazil climbed into the ballista’s firing seat, he heard the horns sound up and down the battle lines. The time for preparing was over; the oozes were coming!

“Adjust 13 degrees upward angle, four degrees left, tighten draw to a 7.34 rating, and lock in the bolt bundle.” Bazil called down to his crew who immediately began turning cranks to rotate the ballista. Hopefully Bazil’s calculations were correct and his trajectory would enable him to inflict maximized damage to the oncoming Fibian army.

The question that remained in his mind was, Would that damage be enough? As he pulled the firing mechanism on the ballista, he thought to himself, only time will tell.

Makeup & Costuming:

Bright, unnaturally-colored hair such as pink, blue, purple, orange, or lime green.

Racial Skills

Innate

• (Passive) Gnomes are naturally-aligned with devices, gizmos, and gadgets. Some would say they have an artisan’s touch for such things. This natural talent manifests so heavily among gnomes that they essentially become one with the tools they use. As such, all Gnomes gain one free Attunement Slot that is only usable for a Lab or Set of Tools.
• Active: Hasten <any hastenable action> 1/encounter.

Gnomish Intellect (1 use): You are able to translate small amounts of written languages. With a 100-count, you are able to read up to one page of any standard language – OR – prevent Research Notes from crumbling when used – OR – accurately describe a major location in the world to such a degree that the location becomes “familiar” to anyone with the ability to Portal for the encounter or 10 minutes.

• Expert (2 uses): Can produce any Basic Crafted item with a 10-count. If the item still exists at the end of the encounter, it falls apart.
• Master (3 uses): When using a consumable, you can be very precise; allowing the consumable to be used a second time within 10 seconds.
• Grandmaster (4-uses): Your intellect and knack for crafting is without comparison. You are able to understand the following schematics recovered from Val’Therin, allowing you to make items that are beyond most other crafters’ comprehension. Each of these devices may be used one time before falling apart (ok, so your comprehension of the schematics isn’t perfect…YET!):
  • Gnomish Shielding Device: Grants +50 Temporary Armor
  • Gnomish Fire Sprayer: Frontal Cone 100 Fire
  • Gnomish Boom! Stick: 50 Vorpal Crush
  • TBD

Let Me Help with That (1 use): Aid another crafter in a project, reducing the cost of making an item by one use. A project may only benefit from one use of Let Me Help with That.

• Expert (2 uses): This aid counts as one use and one Basic Component.
• Master (3 uses): This aid counts as two uses and one Basic Component.
• Grandmaster (4 uses): This aid counts as two uses and either two Basic Components – OR – one Exotic Component.

Rosie bustled about the cookfire, stoking the coals and adding more wood. She greased her heavy cast iron skillet; the one the Dwarves scoffed at and the Gnomes shook their heads at when she insisted on carrying it to the front lines of the war. It was too heavy, the Dwarves said. It wasn’t logical to be burdened with the weight, the Gnomes said. Then, they had her breakfast. They didn’t scoff after that; rather they lined up for breakfast from Rosie’s cookfire whenever they were assigned near her. No reason to burn the bacon, just because a war’s on, Rosie always said.

She set the skillet over the fire. Soon enough, it was ready for the first rasher of bacon. Rosie ensured everything else was on hand and ready – bread in its toasters, eggs ready to crack and quick fry – because as soon as the scent of bacon began wafting over the camp, she was sure to be overrun with mouths to feed.

There was a small yelp from behind her and Rosie turned to see her assistant for the day, a Gnome, sucking on his thumb and looking at the knife in his hand as though it had wronged him.

“What happened?”

The Gnome stopped sucking on his thumb and said, “Well, I’m not rightly sure. I calculated the exact amount of force required to cut even, uniform slices, but something seems off and … well, I cut myself.”

Rosie smiled at his confusion and as he kept calculating under his breath. This young Gnome reminded her of young always-late Lily, holed up in her lab making strange contraptions and forgetting the world around her. Goodness how long it had been since Lily had been lost. Rosie shook the memory away and looked over at the cutting board.

“You’re cutting tomatoes, dear. Your knife gets duller. You have to adjust. Here, let me see your thumb.” Rosie held out her hand and the Gnome presented his. She checked his thumb and made a quick assessment. “You’ll be alright. The cut is deep enough to wash itself out, but not so deep you need stitches or a Life Mage. Let’s let it run a moment and rinse it off. Then we can bandage you up and you’ll be right as rain.”

“Is rain right? What if you wanted a sunny day? Then maybe it’s wrong,” queried the Gnome.

Rosie sighed. “True enough, my friend. Let’s bandage that thumb of yours.” She wrapped his thumb and returned to her cooking. Time was ticking by, after all, and there were a lot of hungry mouths to feed in this camp.

Rosie had been right. As soon as the scent of bacon caught the wind and began spreading from the cookfire, soldiers began to appear. Some were coming off the night watch; stumbling toward the sizzle, exhausted. Their eyes always perked up when she put a plate of food and a cup of coffee into their hands. She had kind words for each of them. Didn’t matter that she didn’t know all of their names or who they were, everyone felt like they got something special from Rosie.

“Here you go, dear,” she’d say. “Looks like it was a long night. This’ll perk you right up. Brewed it up strong, just the way you like it.” Or, she’d say, “Good morning, sir! Good day for a battle. Glory to the Empire.” Then as an aside, “I put an extra slice of bacon on there this morning, sir. Just between you and me.”

It was the little things that kept up the morale of an army. Not everyone understood the little comforts, but Rosie and the other Halflings did. Her people were peppered around the camp of the great army of the Empire of Cyngar; not for their fighting prowess or battle tactics, but rather for their ability to keep an army going through food, comfort, and health.

The light crept over the horizon, bathing the battlefield in a fiery glow. A brazen horn sounded and everyone still at the cookfire, looked toward the field. Far on the other side, metal winked in the newly-risen sun. It had begun.

Rosie pulled off her cook’s apron, wiping her hands and hanging it up near the prep table. She then picked up her healer’s apron, stocked with its bandages, salves, and herbs.

Out of the frying pan, she thought, and into the fire we go. She bustled off with a wave to her Gnomish helper. “You’ll get those dishes won’t you?” she called. “That’s a dear. See you in a bit.”

Makeup & Costuming:

Freckles, rosy cheeks, or sideburns (minimum 2 of the 3).

Racial Skills

Innate

• Passive: Any food or drink you prepare and serve will restore 5 Life Points provided the recipient takes a full 60-count to relax and enjoy it.
• Active:  One use of Resist Fear per encounter.

Friend to All (1 use): When you take a damaging effect, you can Reflect – Charm Ignore upon the target that dealt the damaging effect to you. You cannot resist/avoid the damaging effect as you must be affected to use this ability.

• Expert (2 uses): When damaged, you can Reflect – Charm Pacify.
• Master (3 uses): When damaged, you can Lash – Charm Pacify.
• Grandmaster (4 uses): For the encounter, any time you take damage you can Reflect – Charm Ignore upon the target that dealt the damaging effect to you.

Halfling Agility (1 use): Grant yourself +10 Temporary Dex Armor. Dex Armor does not work if you are wearing any physical armor, can be stacked upon itself (up to the passive cap), and it cannot be re-fit.

• Expert (Passive): +20 Dex Armor all the time, re-fit by doing 60 seconds of stretching.
• Master (Passive): +20 Dex Armor all the time, re-fit by doing 60 seconds of stretching.
• Grandmaster (Passive): +20 Dex Armor all the time, re-fit by doing 60 seconds of stretching.

Humans: nobody is really sure where they came from or how they got to Sylvaris.  The Elves and the Dragonborn talk about a time before the Humans, but even they struggle to figure out exactly when that time was.  They agree it exists, but even the scholars among them can’t seem to pin down how long ago the time before humans was.

Wherever they came from, mutation of a magical anomaly, planar gate from another world, or simply an evolutionary stage of another creature; very few scholars can dispute the impact Humans have had upon Sylvaris.  Being one of the more prolific races on the planet, second only to Orcs in terms of those races not considered monster kin, they quickly carved out a place for themselves in Sylvaris.

Unfortunately, or perhaps fortunately, Humans are very diverse beings.  This makes them well-suited to thrive in many ways, but it also means that they tend to come into conflict with other races, and even other diversifications of themselves, quite regularly.  Perhaps we should start at an earlier time in our story.  A time when Dragons, Elves, Dwarves, Gnomes, and Fey were the only inhabitants of Sylvaris.

In the southern area of Sylvaris, a Kingdom grew in power.  The ancient Kingdom of Val’Therin.  The Elves claim this was an Elven Kingdom, the Dragonborn claim it was a Draconic Kingdom.  The Dwarves claim no part in Val’Therin but they do have many artifacts from that ancient Kingdom.  The Gnomes of modern-day Cyngar can produce ancient trade manuscripts, and many trace the original blueprints of their precursor devices to Val’Therin.

Val’Therin, according to stories anyway, was a Kingdom of discovery, a Kingdom of knowledge unrivaled in the entire world.  The mages of Val’Therin were reputed to be the best in the world, and to this day the rulers of the Mageocracy of Thuld claim to be descendants of those mages; all proof of such claims have been discredited by noteworthy scholars but that does not prevent them from making such claims.

Val’Therin was a Kingdom where all people were welcome, trade prospered, knowledge flourished, and all hopes and dreams came true within Val’Therin…  at least those are the stories that are told.

Something happened.  Some records indicate a cataclysm of some sort, other records claim the scholars or perhaps the mages of Val’Therin overreached themselves.  It isn’t known exactly what happened, all that is known is the result.  Val’Therin was destroyed and turned to ruins, buried under layer upon layer of ice.  It became known as the Kingdom of Frost.  Whatever it was that happened, the Kingdom of Frost, formerly Val’Therin, was no more.  It was now an icy wasteland filled with savage monsters and dangerous magics.  Only the brave, the desperate, or the stupid are said to venture into the Kingdom of Frost.  The lucky ones returned.  The super lucky ones returned with ancient knowledge or artifacts, and a haunted look in their eyes from what they saw in ancient Val’Therin.

You are probably asking yourself, ‘what does Val’Therin have to do with Humans?’ Well, quite simply, it was not until after the fall of Val’Therin that records of Humans appear upon Sylvaris.  This is most commonly the proof which is used to disprove the claims of the Mages of Thuld upon the artifacts of Val’Therin.

Since the time of the fall of Val’Therin, the Humans of Sylvaris have not only adapted and thrived, they have founded multiple Kingdoms.  Foremost among those is the Kingdom of Andora.  Said to be built upon the principles of old Val’Therin, Andora strives to be a place where all are welcome.  A Kingdom of peace, prosperity, and righteousness.  In many ways it succeeds in these things.  It has a strong army that defends its people.  It has fertile soil, its farms are abundant, and its lords see that the people have plenty to eat and are cared for (at least for the most part).

Counterparts to that are the other two prominent Human Kingdoms on Sylvaris.  The first being the Mageocracy of Thuld: a Kingdom that claims to be formed from magical descendants of Val’Therin.  The mages of Thuld rule their people with an iron fist.  They care only about regaining the magic and power that they claim to descend from.  Many of the lord mages experiment upon their subjects in attempts to learn new magics.  The Mageocracy of Thuld has become a place of hedonistic lords who prey upon the people of the Kingdom, wielding the common folk against each other to maintain their hold on things.

The second counterpart to Andora is the Kingdom of Jex’kor: a land ruled by the undead lich lords and their legions of undead soldiers.  Some say that Jex’kor is a curse that was placed upon those responsible for the downfall of Val’Therin and that someday Jex’kor will fall so that Val’Therin can rise again.  If that is true, I wish for it to happen sooner rather than later.  The lich lands of Jex’kor are barely habitable.  The inhabitants of the Kingdom are either desperate people struggling to survive, or they are individuals who have sold themselves to the promise of power and serve the lich lords.  Divided into holdings that are most often ruled by some undead lord who is beholden to one of the twelve lich lords, the Kingdom of Jex’kor is an uncaring place where every day may be your last.

Packs of ghouls and death dogs roam Jex’kor’s borders, keeping trespassers out and its inhabitants from fleeing.  Rumors speak of those who operate a hidden smuggling operation that can be used to get in or out of Jex’kor, if you have the coin to pay your way.  Occasionally, less profiteering-based enterprises will open up, but they are often short lived as the undead of Jex’kor guard their subjects’ jealously.

Just from these three Kingdoms you begin to understand the Human experience of Sylvaris.  Life is good for just as many Humans as it is bad.  They shoulder the blame for the destruction of Val’Therin.  Some do so as a means of greed, like the mages of Thuld.  Others do it as a means of power, like the lords of Jex’kor.  Some seek to counter the evils brought upon the world and establish a place for all and a new beginning for Val’therin through the Kingdom of Andora.

Perhaps the Erid seers can see what the future holds for the Humans of Sylvaris; but if that is the case, they are not revealing that information to anyone.  Only time will tell if the Humans will rise from the ashes of Val’Therin or if they will destroy all of Sylvaris trying to find their place.  In either case, all scholars agree, the Humans are a race to keep an eye on for they will impact Sylvaris in the years to come.

Makeup & Costuming:

Nothing specific

Racial Skills

Innate

• Passive: Gain one silver per game at check-in.
• Active: One use of Charm – Ignore Me per encounter.

I Know a … (1 use): You make contact with someone you know who will utilize one Basic skill for you. If used to acquire an item, that item expires at the end of the event. This skill takes 10 minutes to utilize.

• Expert (2 uses): Your contact will utilize three Basic skills for you.
• Master (3 uses): You make contact with someone you know who will utilize one Expert skill for you.
• Grandmaster (4 uses): You make contact with someone you know who will utilize two Expert skills for you.

Quick Learner (1 use): You do not need your teacher to demonstrate when learning a new skill.

• Expert (2 uses): You may teach yourself the next level of your skill as long as you have seen the skill used before.
• Master (3 uses): You have learned how to blend into a crowd and go unnoticed. You do not count towards group limits for a single effect.
• Grandmaster (4 uses): Amplify Effect – you can double any effect that targets you. You cannot Amplify Effect an Amplify Effect or any effect that is already being Amplified by another means.

Grag’thar grunted as he hit the ground with a solid thud. Looking up he saw his mate, Shethra, smiling down at him and adjusting her stance after kicking him from the bed. He growled a bit but then caught her infectious smile. Today was the day; the great battle! As he thought about it, he could feel the battle rage of his people calling out to him. Grag’thar had to take a moment to calm himself as he got to his feet and began to dress.

His ancestral family armor had been through many battles and today it would protect him … or it would not. It didn’t matter. Grag’that didn’t fear death; no Orc did. They only feared an unworthy death. Today, Grag’thar’s people would face another assault by the Fibians. The Fibians emerged from the ocean almost two years ago and began killing and devouring everything in their path as they pushed further inward towards the Empire of Cyngar. In the two years since the Fibians emerged, the Orcs had learned a few things. They learned that Fibians looked like giant frogs with lots of teeth and that they had slime monsters in their ranks that, while not hard to smash with hammer and mace, were hard to kill. The Fibians seemed to want nothing more than to destroy the world and return it to water and slime.

The Empire of Cyngar was an alliance of Dwarves, Gnomes, Halflings, and recently a race of sentient golem-like creatures called Clockworks. The Orcs had petitioned the Empire for refuge and aid against the Fibians and the Empire had granted it on the condition that the Orcs joined forces with the Empire to halt the Fibian advance. The Empire of Cyngar would not fight the Orcs’ battles for them but would fight with them. Grag’thar thought there might be more to why Cyngar had come to the aid of the Orcs, but whenever anyone asked about it, the Council seemed to dodge the question. Grag’thar didn’t really feel it mattered much. What mattered was that with Cyngar’s aid, they had stopped the Fibian’s ceaseless advance.

Like many Orcs, Grag’thar did not think of himself as an intellectual. He did not write with fancy scribbles or know how to add numbers high; but like all Orcs, Grag’thar did know right from wrong. He knew that this land belonged to his people and that the Fibians had taken it from them. He also knew that many Orcs died at the hands of the Fibians and were fed to the slime pools. No Orc deserved to die in such a manner, slowly digested in a pit of slime and frog secretions.

Grag’thar spat again, his rage redoubling as he thought about all the indignities the Fibians had wrought upon his people. Land was land and it belonged to no one and everyone at the same time. His people had suffered long enough, their lands cried out for release as the Fibians plundered the resources and devoured the plants and animals. Enough was enough; it was time to act. All the tribes of the Orc lands from the Strong Fist tribe, the most physically-powerful; to the Stone Talk tribe, the most mystical; to the Earth Breakers, the best crafters; and all the tribes in between gathered and planned. The Fibians would pay for what they had taken from them and they would pay with blood.

Grag’thar looked to Shethra as she chewed a piece of smoked meat from last night’s dinner.

“Did you see the Ghost Walkers came?” Grag’thar asked. “This will be a truly great battle and our chance to join the Eternal Warband.”

Shethra nodded. Grag’thar knew that she’d seen them. Ever since her father joined the Eternal Warband, Shethra wanted nothing more than to join her father and fight at his side again. They both knew that this would most likely be their last day together, but if it meant that Shethra got to join the Eternal Warband then it did not matter. He would rejoice for her.

In Orcish culture, it is the highest honor an Orc can achieve to be chosen by the Ghost Walkers to join the Eternal Warband. Many Orcs trained their whole lives for an opportunity to be seen by the Ghost Walkers. The children of those chosen would be cared for by the other tribes. They would be raised knowing that their mother or father had been chosen for greatness; and they would be taught to hold honor and bravery in their hearts so that, when their time came, they would show no fear that they too might be noticed by the Ghost Walkers and join the Eternal Warband.

Shethra strapped on her shield and hefted her large mace with her other hand. She looked to Grag’Thar and nodded. It was time! Outside the hut, the rasping call of an Orcish horn echoed through the air as it called for the Orcs to assemble for the coming battle. The elders of the Stone Talk tribe would sing and enspell protections onto the warband while the crafters of the Earth Breaker tribe would check over the weapons and armor of the warriors. Once that was completed, the eldest warriors of the Strong Fist would lead the warband and they would crush the Fibian lines or die protecting their people and the land. The ground would run wet with blood and slime, many Orcs would earn a place in the Eternal Warband, and the Fibians would pay the price for crawling from the oceans onto Orcish lands.

Makeup & Costuming:

Green skin and tusks – OR – horns.

Racial Skills

Innate

• Passive: +1 damage with melee weapons.
• Active: One use of Aggression per encounter.

Can’t Stop This (1 use): Rip free from any movement-impairing effect on a 10-count.

• Expert (2 uses): Rip free from any movement-impairing effect on a 3-count.
• Master (3 uses): Resist any movement-impairing effect.
• Grandmaster (4 uses): Make yourself immune to ALL movement-impairing effects for the encounter.

Mmmm Tasty (1 use): Declare “Mmmm Tasty” and eat something edible. Upon eating the item, heal to ½ your total Life Points and you are immune to any other effects from eating the item.

• Expert (2 uses): When you Mmmm Tasty, heal to ½ your total Life Points and gain +30 Temporary Life Points.
• Master (3 uses): When you Mmmm Tasty, heal to ½ your total Life Points, gain +30 Temporary Life Points, and restore 1 use of another skill.
• Grandmaster (4 uses): When you Mmmm Tasty, heal to full Life Points, gain +50 Temporary Life Points, and restore 1 use of another skill.

The cool autumn breeze pulled a few loose strands of Moonfeather’s hair into her face; the rest of it was tied back into her warrior’s braid. She moved quickly through the open grasslands of the Orc lands; to her right and left several other warriors of the Moonraven tribe loped along beside her, keeping watch in the early morning light. Moonfeather brushed the strand of loose hair away from her forehead as her ears faintly picked up the sounds of war horns in the distance. Her two companions looked at her with concern as they too had heard the sound of the Fibian war horns.

Moonfeather quietly eased their thoughts with a few simple words while they continued to stride across the grasslands using the distance-eating gait her people were known for. A few minutes later they crested a rise in the terrain and all three of them halted to behold what lay before them.

Stretched out across the distance before them two large forces faced off against each other. To the north the invading Fibians, an aquatic race of frog-like creatures desiring nothing more than to return the world to its primordial state. As Moonfeather watched, the Fibian catapults launched a volley of small red and green slime balls towards the opposing forces. Watching the slimes arc up into the sky they came down short of the southern armies’ battle lines; but she watched as the slimes quickly rolled and dragged themselves towards those forces. On the south side of the field the combined armies of Cyngar and the Orcish tribes unleashed volleys of magic and fire incinerating the slimes before they could reach their lines.

Moonfeather smiled as she assessed the battle before her. By all accounts it had just begun, her people were late but they would not miss it. She reached up to her face and touched the symbol of the raven which adorned her cheek and whispered quietly for Bran to aid her. Holding out her hand, a ghostly Raven figure appeared in her palm. She whispered a few words to the Raven and then boosted Bran, her Raven, up into the air where it spread its wings and quickly began flying back west where she had come from. The rest of the Totemic warband was a few hours away and she wished to let them know that the battle had begun.

Moonfeather knew that in a few minutes, when Bran reached the Totemic warband, they would increase their pace across the Orc lands and with any luck would arrive within the hour; two at most. Every member of the warband came of their own volition. They came for a variety of personal reasons. Some came because the Fibians needed to be stopped. Some came because the Orcs were allies and had been valuable trade partners for decades. Some came because the Empire of Cyngar had come to their aid when it was needed. For every Totemic, there was a reason; but at the same time every Totemic came because this was a great battle and it was during the great battles that the Erid came, and when the Erid came it was a chance to ascend into the Great Tribe.

Moonfeather, like most Totemics, grew up in the vast northern lands of Sylvaris known by most simply as the Totemic lands. She was raised hearing stories of great battles, being told tales of powerful warriors; and when she was old enough to hold a weapon, she began learning how to fight. The Totemics were a race of warriors who prized strength, but they also knew that strength without wisdom lead to foolishness and hardship. They had enough hardship in their lands.

The Totemic lands, called Vawhium by the people within it, were a vast land filled with wandering monsters looking for an easy meal of Totemic flesh to more organized bands of raiders looking to take what the tribes had earned for themselves. As such, the tribes learned from an early age how to survive in Vawhium and how to defend themselves and their families. Skilled hunters that lived off the land hunting, fishing, and gathering that which grew naturally. For protection, it is most common for several families to bond together and form a tribe. Some of these tribes grew larger, some stayed smaller, being from a large tribe or a small tribe made no difference. Large tribes were safer from attack, but often had less food and supplies to go around. Smaller tribes were more vulnerable to attack, but often had plentiful supplies.

The tribes traded and lived peacefully with each other, for they were all united in a common understanding of the totems. The totems; spirits of animals that had a special connection to the tribe’s people. The totems watched over the tribes, offering them aid and protection in exchange for recognition and acknowledgement. It was a way of life that had worked for generations among the Totemics.

Many generations ago the totems came to the shamans of the tribes and spoke with them in dreams and visions. They explained to the shamans that a great evil approached Sylvaris. The totems could not see the great evil, they did not know when the great evil would arrive; they knew only that it would come and that it would seek to destroy all. The totems spoke of a people who traveled the world seeking the greatest warriors and the wisest shamans to join a Great Tribe dedicated to fighting this threat when it arrived. The totems spoke of how when the time came, the totems themselves would fight with this Great Tribe and those selected to join it would fight side-by-side with them and perhaps even become totems for the future tribes of Sylvaris.

So it was that every member of the warband, Moonfeather included, had come to this great battle. They knew that this was not the enemy the totems spoke of, but this was a chance to prove themselves in battle and earn a place to fight side-by-side with the totems themselves in the great war. It was an honor beyond all honors to be chosen and Moonfeather wished it more than anything, as did her two companions.

Simply watching the battle for over an hour was one of the hardest things the three Totemics had ever done. They wished to charge onto the battlefield and prove their worth. They wished to show the totems they revered the skills they had practiced and honed since childhood. They wished to be seen by the totem friends, known by most as the Erid. They also knew that to go before the rest of the tribe was dishonorable and unwise.

‘Finally’, Moonfeather thought to herself as she watched the running figures of her Totemic brothers and sisters heading towards her. Soon enough they would all be assembled. Blueriver, the head shaman, would lead the other shamans in placing magical protections upon the warriors and then Swiftpaw would lead the warriors into battle. Very soon now she would have her chance to prove herself to Bran and the other totems.

Makeup & Costuming:

Totem mark of the animal, such as a paw print or the animal shape, visible on the face. The totem mark should make it obvious what the PC’s totem is.

Racial Skills

Innate

• Passive: +10 Life Points.
• Active: One use of Resilience per encounter.

Live Off the Land (1 use): Resist any air, earth, fire, or water effect.

• Expert (2 uses): Spend five minutes in a wilderness setting to locate a Harvesting node, this node can be harvested a number of times equal to your named levels in this skill for basic components or for a single exotic component if the appropriate skill is used -OR- cover your upkeep for the event.
• Master (3 uses): With a 100-count, locate a special herb that can be used to either grant yourself a Regular Enhancement Slot or a Universal Enhancement Slot – OR – grant yourself +40 Life Points in your Life Enhancement Slot.
• Grandmaster (Passive): You are immune to prime material environmental effects. (Active – 4 uses): You establish a defensive position represented by a 10ft. diameter circle (you must place a circle phys rep on the ground). Anyone within your defensive position gains the benefit of Sidestep vs every effect that hits them while they stay within the circle.

Totem Power (1 use): Call upon your totem to grant you the ability to deal one type of elemental damage with your weapon for the encounter (choose air, earth, fire or water).

• Expert (2 uses): Call upon your totem to aid your healing by doubling the next healing effect you receive – OR – you may heal someone else to half their total Life Points with a 30-count.
• Master (3 uses): After using an ability you may declare, “Totemic Mimic” and utilize the same ability a second time.
• Grandmaster (4 uses): Perform a 60-count to manifest your totem to fight alongside you and provide aid for the encounter.  
  • Totem Stats: 50 Life Points, 50 Armor, Dual Wield for 10 Claw, 2 uses of Dodge – OR – Resist Damage (based on animal type), and 3 uses of +20 damage for single attack.
  • It is your responsibility to provide someone to phys rep your totem animal. If you do not have someone to phys rep your totem, you instead become an avatar of your totem and gain the following bonuses:
    • Avatar Bonus: +50 temporary Life Points and +2 passive damage with 1-hander/Relic – OR – +3 passive damage with 2-hander.