| Author: | Clinton R. Nixon |
|---|---|
| Version: | 0.3b (edits by George Shannon) |
| Date: | 2005 |
| Copyright: | This work is copyright 2004 Clinton R. Nixon. This work is licensed under the Creative Commons Attribution-ShareAlike License. To view a copy of this license, visit http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/2.0/ or send a letter to Creative Commons, 559 Nathan Abbott Way, Stanford, California 94305, USA. |
| Colophon: | This document was created using DocTools. |
In days long gone by, Maldor was an empire, stretching from ocean to mountain, uniting the people of the world under one rule. Empowered by a common language and efficient trade, this cornucopia of cultures melded into an economic powerhouse where few were hungry and most were happy.
This empire fell, not to opposing armies, but from doom from the heavens. A fiery dot appeared in the sky, bright enough to be seen in mid-day. The people, well-off but superstitious, grew restless, worried at what this apparition might bring. Absolon, Emperor-General of Maldor, gathered his astronomers and they examined the fire on the edge of existence.
Their counsel was dark. This dot seemed to grow larger by day, as if the sky itself was beginning to burn away. Within three months, this dot grew as large as the sun, and shone bright by night, causing fear and panic in Absolon's kingdom. Mothers held their crying children to their breast, trying to block the fell rays of this celestrial fire from their babies' eyes; peasants grew fearful as their beasts moans in confusion at night; priests proclaimed the end of the world was coming.
And all looked to their Emperor, Absolon, for guidance, but Absolon had none. A former magician, Hanish, came before Absolon, hundreds of miles of dirt caked on his body from running. He swore that the rituals conducted by Absolon's sorcerers had unleashed this terror, and it must be revoked, else the world would be destroyed.
The court sorcerers heard this and were none too pleased. They had Hanish imprisoned and tried to turn Absolon's ear away from his ravings. The words bothered Absolon greatly, though, and he went to Hanish's cell on a dark night, when the clouds obscured the burning among the stars.
Absolon threatened Hanish with death if this curse was not removed from the world. Hanish lay himself before Absolon's sword. Moved by Hanish's bravery and defiance, Absolon took him to his side as his highest advisor and they spent many hours talking alone. Rumors and rebellions ripped Maldor apart. The people said their Emperor spent all his days privately conversing with the man who would destroy the world. Within another three months, this fiery orb illuminated everything in burnt red. The sun could not even be seen.
In the midst of open revolt, chaos, madness, prophets proclaiming the death of all life, assasssinations, and depravity, Absolon and Hanish emerged from the Emperor's quarters. The Sky Fire had grown no bigger than half the sky, but its heat was now intolerable and the entire sky was painted in eternal sunset as the globe burned away the air.
Absolon and Hanish stood on the steps of the Emperor's Palace, hand in hand, and began a weird chant, intoning ancient syllables which spread throughout the angry crowds outside, calming them. This chant lasted for three days, and it is said that by the end of those three days, the entire Empire had taken up its rhythmic syllables. The Fire moved slowly across the sky, though, at the end of the three days, crossed the western horizon, and night fell again. Absolon and Hanish collapsed on the stairs where they chanted, their spirits gone and their bodies broken.
Then, the world halted.
In the midst of night, the world shook with such a rumble that buildings fell, cracks opened spewing lava, and mountains formed out of plains-land. Men wept and tore their clothes, animals stampeded, and the elderly died of shock. A red glow came from every horizon, with black smoky clouds billowing. The clouds grew and grew as the earth continued to shake for days on end, the sun barely visible, and finally even blotted out that orb of life-giving light.
For a year, the earth quivered and the sun rose no more, with only black clouds looking down on humanity. The earth froze. For one year, through the harshest of winters, people died of plague, starvation, and madness. By the end of that year, the population of the known world was a tenth of what it had been.
One year after its disappearance, the sun rose weakly in the sky, barely shining through the breaking clouds. People driven to primitivism stuck their heads out of their caves, hovels, and homes to see the beloved sun as it rose to the middle of the sky and the foul darkness broke around it. When it set, though, living persons everywhere shook with horror.
A moon rose in the sky. Never had a moon been seen in the world. The only object ever seen in the night sky was the dread Sky Fire, which this bore too much a resemblance to. Its pale light threw dark shadows onto the land. Worse, when the sun rose the next days, this moon - three times larger than the sun - eclipsed the sun, a Black Shadow rimmed in fire.
Three hundred years have passed. Every night, the moon still rises, a terrible eye over the world. Some people quiver in abject fear. And some heroes fight the Shadow, in the darkest caves, the most decayed of civilizations, and the blackest heart.
The world presented within these pages are a sliver of the entire world of the game. Detailed here is the part known as Near, a section of the world geographically locked-in and saved from total destruction by the Sky Fire. It is also the tipping point for the rise and decline of the Empire of Maldor.
Looking at the map, you will note no clear political boundaries. There are not any. Every border in Near that doesn't have a huge piece of geography supporting it is contested. Some are more contested than others: the Khale-Ammeni border is the most fought over.
Regarding the write-ups of the culture, you will find many references that are not fully explained. There are ideas like The First Man, the Revenant Cult, and a far-north land where the elves are kept as slaves. These are not explained on purpose, because . . .
That's right. I do not explain every detail of every culture because it should, and will, vary in your game from what I might have in my head. You do not need the author's permission to think up neat things about the setting, but I'm giving it anyway.
Within each culture, I've tried to put in many interesting ideas that you can build upon to flesh them out. This is not a job just for the Story Guide, either. PLayers should always feel free to recommend answers to questions brought up in play. I have left out what is not important to me and should be determined by your group. If, for example, I do not mention what sort of weapons a culture uses, then feel free to give them anything from swords to bizarre two-ended resin-coated blade-hammers. In addition, make up your own rules. I've provided guidelines for creating abilities, Secrets, and Keys: use them to bring more detail to the culture I've provided.
And over those hills: who knows what lurks? What sort of mad culture could enslave elves? Who, if anyone, could live in the southern frozen wastes? Does another world lie over the eastern seas? Why has no one returned from expeditions over the western mountains?
If you can believe it, when I originally planned The Shadow of Yesterday, I answered a lot of those questions. In writing the game, it seemed like a stretch, like me trying to make an impressive display of my creative skills instead of helping you use your own creative skills. You will be pleased to know I still have the notes. Nothing should stop you from finding out for yourself what lies over those hills before I get around to telling you what I found, though.
I really want you and your group to take this world and run with it. Whatever you decide is up is great. I did invent Near around a few assumptions, though. Here's what they are.
There aren't any monsters. Sure, throw in killer wolves. I like to use crocodiles, personally. And I could easily see dinosaurs. These are beasts, though. All true antagonists in the game should be living, thinking creates that have a viewpoint that can be understood, no matter how warped.
There aren't any gods. Mankind (and, well, rat-kind) are alone in shaping their world. That doesn't mean faith in something great isn't powerful, by the way. True belief gives you power, and in this game, sometimes you do get a supernatural benefit for that. That's a little fantasy nod to the power of the mind.
There's just people. Good and evil happen for a reason. And that reason is some guy's making it happen.
The "Old Species" are those which have been around and well-known in Near since before the coming of the Shadow, which are humans, goblins, and elves. The Old Species seem closely linked, for this reason: they are all in someway human. While the lines between humans, elves, and goblins are clear, individuals can move in between them. This is not necessarily common knowledge: no goblin would believe this, only the most astute human scholar have observed the phenomenon, and elves don't particularly like to talk about it.
Humans have the most variation of any species on Near, and as such, will be more detailed in the culture write-ups. There are some species-wide qualities worth noting, though.
Humans come in every variety of color and appearance as they do on Earth. The humans of Near, however, tend towards darker skin tones: the lightest skin tone is a light olive, and blonde hair is rare. Exceptionally light-skinned people or blondes are regarded with some suspicion, as these qualities are normally associated with elves. Skin tone varies within nations and cultures, but as a rule, skin tones deepen as one travels north in the world of Near.
Human personalities are very tempered by culture. They are the most aggressive of all the species, though, even the beast-like Ratkin. Their superior numbers and role as the primary mover in Near history have much to do with this, as does a natural-born hubris. Coupled with their aggressiveness is a dangerous catalyst: fear. The Shadow has brought out the worst fears in humanity, and purges against other species, pogroms against their own kind, witch-hunts for "Shadow-touched" and other atrocities have been even more common.
Balancing human aggression is human passion. Humans have love which is unique to their kind. It is, in fact, what makes humans human, and if a goblin or elf finds themselves in this state, they are on the fast track to finding out just how mallable their species identity is.
All human religions have some explanation of the Sky-Fire and the Shadow Moon. Most are not favorably inclined to it, and have become dualist good-versus-evil pantheons. The definition of evil is a primary impetus in many of the atrocities described above.
Elves are mysterious, aloof human-like creatures. They claim immortality, and possess fearsome magic, allowing them to project their ego. Usually untrusted or revered, or both, they wander Near looking for an answer.
For the most part, elves appear human-like. They create their own bodies from the power of their own self-image, so they can have any appearance they want at creation, but most stick with a similar appearance in each incarnation. Their skin tone, however, is always pale, ranging from bone-white to a very light olive, and their hair is light, ranging from blonde to a sandy brown or golden red. All elves have an aura, a small nimbus of light that shines around them. This aura is slight enough that it only shouts their presence under a pitch-black sky. It is noticeable enough, though, that anyone that does see an elf knows what it is.
Elves tend to be solitary creatures without roots. This is not to say that they are not social; they can be incredibly magnetic. They do not, however, usually settle down in one place and form lasting relationships. It is said that one cannot trust an elf for "whatever good he does, he does for his own purposes."
Elves are people who have looked deep within and found only one thing there: the self. Dedicated like a Zen master, they have realized the world is illusory and the only truth is what one thinks of one's self. Upon the death of the body, these souls do not pass on, but return again and again, as a more perfect form.
This sort of worldview kind of shuts the door on most religion. The elf recognizes no god or greater power, only more powerful souls. Strangely, this sort of self-absorption doesn't always lead to evil: many elves roam the world doing good to either appease something inside them or perhaps for amusement. Others strike down anything in their path, realizing the insignificance of others that have not achieved their enlightenment. Whatever the attitude, an elf lives on, seeking to know itself deeper.
Sometimes, an elf strays from this path. They were once human, after all, although it's not too wise to mention that. Any time an elf recognizes another life as greater than his own, he falls from elfhood. If an elf either saves the life of another, dying or becoming mortally wounded in the process, or creates life - elves function sexually as humans - they become somewhat human. (If the elf died for another, he is reborn a last time.) Their aura dims and becomes grey, and they begin to get older like a human: they have entered the Grey Age. Other elves usually despise a Grey One for his weakness.
The most powerful magic of the elf is the fact that it's immortal. Elves come into this world at maturity, and do not age unless they want to. Most do, over their many incarnations, as their self-image becomes more wizened. They do not catch diseases, although they can be poisoned. Their body is only a shell they have created, and even if struck down, they return to the world of Near.
An elf, if feeling introspective - and when aren't they? - may speak of Heaven. This may be the only religious belief elves have: that when they achieve perfect enlightenment, they will leave Near and enter perfect one-ness, when the illusion of Near disappears for them, and they see it for what it is, their own dream. This Heaven is as horrific of an idea to a human as it sounds - the elf sees herself as the dreamer of everything and everyone else, and she will take her true place in Heaven.
Elven magic manifests itself in other minor forms, however. Elven auras are very powerful and have many special abilities that protect the elf and project its will on others. The long age of an elf seems like magic to other peoples, as well: elves can draw on their many experiences to perform nearly any feat.
When the Sky Fire fell to Near, all elves disappeared. Not a single one was seen for over two hundred years. As to where they went, no one knows, not even the elves. Elves' stories are varied: most purport that they were always here and have no memory of leaving or those two hundred years, while others speak of Far, another world they are able to visit.
Whatever happened, elves are loathe to speak of it. Since they have returned, though, it is obvious the Shadow Moon has had an effect on them. Once elves were friendly towards each other, greeting other ones on the path to enlightenment. Once, when an elf was asked about the logical fallacy in two elves both thinking the universe is their dream, he said, "It is not known whether I am dreaming him dreaming the world, or he is dreaming me dreaming the world. Either way, we'd better get along." Now, though, elven friendliness is rare, and most elves despise the sight of another one. The power struggle to see who is truly the master of the dream has become intense. Some old elves blame the younger ones for the Sky Fire and Shadow Moon, claiming too many competing for the dream have threatened to tear it apart.
Most would call goblins debased: sick, twisted, addicted things with little morality. Goblins call this fun. Pure hedonists, goblins hunger for pleasure, trouble, and excitement.
Goblins are infinitely adaptable beings; their "natural" bodies, if you can call them that, manage to resemble demons, dogs, and men at the same time. They are mottled brown, black, green, and grey, and their hair grows randomly, in shape and color. Their bodies have an ability that cannot be explained by many: they evolve to match their environment even as they continue to age, and their offspring carry these same characteristic. Even strong magic and torture can warp their bodies, as many evil wizards have found, creating the dread ur-goblins, bugbears, and Violators from goblin stock. Most goblins are smaller and stouter than humans, although they can come in just about any size.
Goblins' curiosity drives them into all the forgotten places of the earth, and makes them decent apprentices for just about any job: they catch on quickly, but tend to cause as many accidents as they do help. They're easy to keep loyal, though: all goblins have an addiction, which if fed regularly, will make one your best friend. This addiction need not be to a drug: they can be addicted to a certain act, food, drink, or, well, drug. (A tale has been told of goblin divers on the shores of Maldor. These beasts were amazing pearl-finders, and were addicted to the rush of adrenaline they got when their human handler threw them off the cliff-side.)
Left alone, goblin societies resemble anarchy to any outsider, although they tend to grow an alpha goblin among any tribe. Any goblin tribe of more than about two dozen of the animals tends to fall apart without an outside master, usually human. Goblins are actually rather good at organizing to make sure everyone's needs get met, but when they start to threaten each other's resources, tribes quickly split into rivals.
Goblin families are very loose-knit. All goblins are poly-sexual, and any mating between them, whether male-male, male-female, or female-female, can generate offspring. With a month-long gestation period, this doesn't really get in the way of their curious relations. The offspring are born as small, but capable goblins, emerging as little flesh-balls about a foot in diameter. Within an hour of their birth, they grow feet, hands, eyes, and a mouth. Young goblins pick another goblin in the tribe as their parent, randomly, and if that goblin doesn't push them away, they usually learn the same addictions and behaviors.
Goblins do not understand the human concept of love. It's an alien concept to them. They do understand mutual pleasure, of both the sexual and non-sexual form, and do actively work with each other. The greatest sins in goblin society are not wanting to trade - one goblin's poison is another's pudding - and betraying someone you're working with.
A few goblins have been observed in a bizarre state that resembles love, however. When a goblin is struck with this, known only as "the Affliction" in their rough language, they leave their tribe and travel, their only goals to prove their love or die. (They seem confused by their own emotions, and usually cannot express clearly what they are doing.) A goblin has never been observed in love with another goblin, however; they always choose a member of another species as their object of affection.
Ratkin are the newest sentient species in Near, and have just started to emerge from their animal past. They are generally untrusted by all other species except goblins, and known as dirty thieves. In reality, they are loyal allies, but have a hard time adjusting to the idea of owning something.
Ratkin are most often found in dead cities, especially the crumbling walled fortresses of Maldor, and live their in enormous litters, near-feral.
Ratkin resemble nutria, enormous rodents, standing on their hind legs with prehensile thumbs. About three to four feet tall, they have pointed button noses, whiskers, and are covered in either grey, brown, or black fur, with the occasional albino all-white ratkin. Many ratkin are not completely used to bipedal movement, and drop to all fours to run, looking like nothing but a huge rat-dog.
A wandering ratkin will bond with his companions quickly, and is usually quite uncomfortable alone. Their tendency to take the possessions of their friends is well documented, though: they have little comprehension of the idea that you can own anything, except through guarding it. In the same way, they will quarrel with their friends quicker than a human would, but quarrels are forgiven as soon as they end.
The basic unit of ratkin society is the litter, being the large group the ratkin is born with. Unlike other species, not everything born to a ratkin mother is a ratkin; a typical litter is three or four ratkin and ten to twenty normal rats. At birth, the ratkin are distinguishable only by their forepaws and their size, about one-and-a-half to twice the size of the rats.
Among a litter, you own only what you can fight for: any scrap of food or shiny object quickly results in a scratching, biting ball of chaos as rat and ratkin alike pile on. This is true from birth; the first act of a ratkin's life is to claw a sibling off a teat so it can have a drink. An outsider would wonder how many make it out alive, as sibling altercations are frequent and incredibly violent. Ratkin instinctually know how to hurt their brethren without seriously damaging them, though.
Any outside threat to a member of the litter is met with real violence, though. A predator attacking a lone rat or ratkin will quickly find himself prey to a snarling, vicious wave of fur, tooth, and claw, seemingly coming from nowhere. To a ratkin, an attack on any member of his litter is even worse than a personal attack on him, and requires retribution. Although the bond is not as powerful, this is also true about the horde, the larger family a litter is born into, which can number dozens or hundreds of ratkin, and thousands of rats. For this reason, a ratkin-infested ancient city is a very dangerous place to bring hostilities.
Ratkin do leave their original litter to wander the world of Near, though. The reasons are varied. Some ratkin lose their litter to explorers; some meet outsiders and see a way of life where they do not have to fight for every meal. They do not, though, lose the concept of the litter, and usually find a group of companions to bond with, becoming their new litter.
Ratkin use the Scrapping ability to fight with their teeth and claws. Their thick coat and sharp natural weapons give them no disadvantage against an opponent armed with normal-size weapons. In addition, they will often charge an opponent on all fours, achieving a great speed before leaping to savagely gouge the opponent. This is done in-game with an Athletics check, with the Success Levels becoming bonus dice for a Scrapping check.
"This package - bomb, you call it - will unseat the tyrant?" the farmer asked, his hands dirtying the paper as he carefully handled it.
The voice from the shadow chuckled. "It will knock him right out of his seat. If my calculations are correct, it will kill him as well. Just remember the phrase."
"'On Tax-Day, another great gift I have brought my...'"
"Don't finish that sentence. It shouldn't work, but let's not take any chances. It will go off as soon as you say that in the presence of our great liege." An odd squeak came from the darkened corner at the word.
"And I?"
"You will die."
The farmer sighed, wet and heavy in his lungs. "And my family?"
"They will disappear from the land. They will be taken care of well. They are part of our... tribe now."
Filthy hands pushed the package into a knapsack, and the freedom fighter turned away, resigned.
The shadow grew larger and fell across the farmer. "Man, you do good work for the people."
His face away from the shadow, the man of the dirt nodded slowly. "Freedom is the people's work," he replied as a white furred hand, fingers ending in claws, squeezed his shoulder.
Across the deep waters of Absolon's Way lie the ruins of Maldor, once the grandest empire Near has ever known. Before the Shadow Moon came, Maldor ruled the world, its empire spreading from the Eastern Sea to the frozen waters of the South and the Hungry River of the north. Maldor's most distinctive feature was its tremendous walled cities, giant sealed engines of industry and culture. As the empire fell and shrunk back to the center of Near, many of its cities were ruined as terror and plague eradicated their denizens. These cities, filled with secrets and danger, are a destination for especially foolish or brave adventurers.
Maldor is made up of a variety of geography, from rolling plains stretching to the ocean in the east to forest-covered hills in the west. It once was beautiful. It now looks like someone dropped a bomb on the cover of a sad-eyed-wizard fantasy novel.
When the Sky Fire fell, Emperor Absolon passed on, and Maldor passed into darkness. As people took to the land again, the country found itself shattered, with local lords claiming royal blood dividing the land up like lions with a carcass: unfair and bloody. The disparity between the wealthy and poor is immense; only those families with great stone fortresses and great stores were able to emerge as anything but destitute. The lords of the land press commoners into service as infantry, farmers, smiths, or whatever suits their whims. Outright war between these lords is not uncommon as they attempt to gain dominance over each other. None have achieved their goal, however, and the country remains divided.
The Maldorites are shell-shocked, blindly attempting to follow their old ways of life in a ruined empire. The people are a mix of ethnicities, although the noble lines are all Caucasian in appearance. While family is important - the nobility treasures their blood, and the peasants huddle together - they are often separated by war, hunger, and wonderlust. Filthy children run rampant; with nothing to own, people make much of their only resource.
Maldor is in its dark ages; art and culture take second-place to survival. Among the noble classes, art still exists in collections from before the Shadow Moon came. Tapestries, painting, and sculpture are most prized. Artists are employed by lords, but innovation is rare: the artists are called on to make knock-offs of pre-Shadow art more than anything else. Musicians and actors do well if they can find a liege, as owning the better court entertainment is a major point of pride for these cardboard nobles playing at being kings.
Other troubadours wander the countryside, going from inn to inn to make a few pieces of gold. It is said that one enterprising merchant hired a gang of mercenaries to pillage a fallen city and is now printing books using a press they managed to liberate. From the borderlands, there are stories of commoners banding together to rebuild villages; these communes are said to sponsor community theatres of dubious quality, but high humor.
The food of Maldor is considered bland by the rest of the world, but is hearty and filling. Potatoes are served at every meal, from a commoner's feast to a noble's snack. On the other hand, Maldor's beer is the best in the world.
The Maldor economy can be described as an ever-hungry violent monster, constantly devouring itself to live. Farmers grow grain, corn, potatoes, and other root vegetables and raise goats, sheep, and cattle for milk and food, but it never seems to be enough, especially as the lords take an obscene amount of crops and livestock in land taxes to pay for their wars. Beer and distilled potato liquor make up a large amount of their exports, especially to Goren, a frozen land to the south. Metal is found in the western hills, and what doesn't become an axe or breastplate gets sold to the iron-poor north. Most families have to supplement their income by taking up the sword. The nobles promise good pay in their armies, although plenty of idiot young people end up dying on the end of a sword before payday.
Individual lords in Maldor supplement their coffers by trading priceless artifacts and antiquities to foreigners. The Ammenite Houses are the major buyers of these objects. There is good pay in Maldor for a seasoned explorer; the ruins of many great cities are filled with arms and art, as well as fierce Ratkin unlikely to appreciate pillagers.
The lords of Maldor are monotheistic. Their religion centers around a variation of ancient sun god worship: they have melded the figure of the sun god and Absolon, saying that the Year of Shadow was Absolon's sacrifice as he descended into the underworld, then rose against, undefeated by Shadow. Their priests prophesy his return to Near as a king that will re-unite Maldor and make it strong again. Some philosophers might debate about when Absolon will come again, but the lords do not: there's not a one of them without the hubris to think that he is Absolon-Come-Again, and that all will bow down to him. This messiah complex makes their wars all the more bloody, of course.
This monotheism trickles down to the peasants, who tend to worship the sun god in its more pagan aspect, as a giver of life and blessing. Unlike the lords, the peasants definitely argue about when Absolon will return: their dream of a better day is well-deserved, but pathetic. As Maldor was once a great multi-cultural cornucopia, though, religion varies widely among its lower classes, who practice animism, ancestor worship, or any variety of other religious practices in addition to sun-worship.
Rumors of a Shadow Cult abound, evildoers who would try to throw down the sun and replace it with their dark Queen of Shadow. Who the Shadow Cult is is unknown. Earls and dukes tell their people that the Shadow Cult are the followers of other earls and dukes; advisors tell their lords that the Shadow Cult grows among their own people; commoners believe the Shadow Cult are the Ratkin, or nasty elves, or their next-door neighbors, depending on what day of the week it is. Some elements have been assassinating self-proclaimed messiahs and blowing up castle walls without getting caught, but leave no clue as to who they are.
When Maldor reigned supreme, Emperor Absolon sponsored a great academy of magic, built as a giant triangle-shaped fortress hidden in the western hills, drawing his advisors from the best of their ranks. Strangely, no one knows exactly where the academy is today: many adventurers claim to have seen it, but all directions given to it end up nowhere. Most reports of it say that strange white Ratkin swarm its halls.
In its zenith, the Three-Corner Academy pressed its own philosophy of magic, based off two inter-locking triangles, the Day Triangle and Night Triangle. It trained students from all over Near within its walls, and the remnants of its learning can still be found in pockets spread over the world.
In this time, Three-Corner magic is more common in Maldor than anywhere else in Near, but any sort of magic is feared. Many nobles have court magicians that act as diviners and advisors. The combination of these powerful rulers and rumors of the Shadow Cult put fear in the hearts of superstitious commoners, who often flee from a magician's path, or in large numbers, burn the witch.
Maldor is a rather xenophobic land; other species do not generally find it a welcoming place. Elves are distrusted, as they disappeared during the Year of Shadow. Still, they are sometimes found in the royal courts, which does not add to their reputation among the common folk at all.
Ratkin are the least liked and most numerous. Ratkin infest the old ruined cities of Maldor, and are often the only residents there. Most lords in Maldor offer rewards for Ratkin heads, and serfs desperate for money will band together into hunting parties for the sentient rodents.
Goblins get the most mixed reaction. Most are harmless, and can be found all over, from court jesters to household pets to wizards' apprentices to great warrens of them holed up in hill caves. Some of the most vile goblin experiments come from Night magicians of the Three-Corner School, however, and mothers scare their children from a young age with tales of the Hungry Ones and the Violators.
Like many mystic philosophies, Three-Corner Magic revolves around the connection between body, spirit, and mind, or Vigor, Instinct, and Reason. For each of these, there is one Day focus and one Night focus, with the Day focus being considered more benign. Students were generally not taught the Night focus until their masters thought they had become adept with the Day focus. Now, with the school scattered and third-generation knowledge being passed down, training has lost a lot of structure. The Night foci are more widely taught; they also are believed to be evil by many, instead of being capable of being used for evil, a distinction held in the old days.
The foci are:
| Day | Night | |
|---|---|---|
| Vigor | Creation | Destruction |
| Instinct | Enhancement | Transformation |
| Reason | Divination | Enthrallment |
Creation and Destruction are the simplest foci, being merely making physical constructs or tearing them down. Enhancement is making something even more itself than it already is; Transformation focuses on making it different, changing its identity. Divination is seeing the truth; Enthrallment clouds the minds of others and hides the truth.
There are a few laws that are always in place, unless a Secret alters them, when using Three-Corner magic.
Creation (Vigor)
The character can create a small amount - a handful - of one of the basic elements (fire, air, earth, water) from nothing.
Destruction (Vigor)
The character can hurt a target with harm equal to his Success Level. The description of this damage is done by the player, and could be anything from telekinetic tearing of the target's body to a ghostly, arcane flame, but is definitely unnatural.
Transformation (Instinct)
The character can transfer the target's attribute pool points from one pool to another equal to his Success Level.
Enhancement (Instinct)
The character can give bonus dice to any other character's Ability Check. You must make a resisted ability check against the other character's ability. If you are successful, your Success Levels are used as bonus dice on the check; if not, they receive a penalty die.
Divination (Reason)
The character can sense magic auras on an object or person he touches, and can sense the general disposition of people and animals.
Enthrallment (Reason)
The character can force his will on a target, who is well aware what is happening.
Creation and Destruction
I've been asked, why couldn't a character create a big chunk of rock over an enemy's head to kill him, instead of using Destruction? The answer is, of course he can. There are limits, though. First, the opponent gets to make a React Ability Check (if he's aware of the magic), which he may be better at than Resist. Second, harm is figured out by using the caster's Success Level with the magic, multiplied by the number of Force spent if using Create Volume. Without Create Volume, the amount of mass created usually isn't enough to hurt anyone.
Secret of the Invisible Hand
Secret of the Invisible Arm
Secret of Magical Contagion
Cost:
- A small group of targets (around 5) can be affected for 1 point.
- A large group of targets (25 or less) can be affected for 3 points.
- A crowd of targets (100 or less) can be affected for 6 points.
- A horde of targets (all that the caster can see) can be affected for 10 points.
Secret of Magical Persistence
Cost:
- For 1 point, you can extend until sundown (or sunrise if used at night.)
- For 3 points, you can extend until the end of one moon phase (end of the week).
- For 6 points, you can extend until the next eclipse (end of the month).
- For 10 points, you can extend until one complete sun cycle (either solstice).
Secret of Magical Effect
Secret of Sympathetic Magic
Living Morph
- Double or half the target's size. If this is not done, the target becomes a creature of its same size.
- Flip two skill scores. One of the skills does not have to be stated, if you flip for the target's best skill.
- Add a +1 or +2 weapon or armor rating to the target. One Instinct must be spent per separate rating.
- Add a Secret to the target.
Cost: 1+ Instinct.
Create Anything
Create Volume
Inner Damage
Massive Damage
Gentle Touch
Alter Senses
Know Truth
Know Capabilities
Empower Others
Burst of Power
During the course of a game, a player or the Story Guide may want to expand what can be done with magic. As written, for example, Creation can only create inanimate objects. What if a wizard wants to temporarily create a living being, though? The GM and player may work together to expand the usage of magic with new Secrets. The GM needs to determine whether the usage is permissible in his campaign and how powerful it is. Using that, a new Three-Corner Secret can be co-written by the Story Guide and player to fit the new usage. An example of one that would allow for the creation of living beings:
Creation: Create Life
In order to create a new Three-Corner Magic Secret, the character needs to either spend much time in research, or hunt down a source of learning the new Secret.
Spells are defined usages of Three-Corner magic, crafted by players or Story Guides. When a character performs something with magic that he would like to do again in the future, he may write up exactly how the magic worked as a spell, and then take that spell as a Secret. The advantages to this are that the spell costs one less pool point than it would normally. In addition, a spell may be taken multiple times as a Secret in order to further reduce its cost.
Characters that do not have the Secrets that make up a spell can still take the spell, although they cannot make new spells that rely on Secrets they do not have. In this case, they must be taught the spell by someone else. This is a good option for a character that focuses on something besides magic, but wants to be able to use a few pre-defined magical effects. Is a spell uses more than one ability, roll them from lowest to highest ranked ability. All must succeed, but earlier success levels do roll into bonus dice for later rolls.
A sword made of solid steel appears in the caster's hand. The caster can make a Rough Crafts Skill Check, with the bonus dice adding to this spell's Skill Roll. This sword lasts for one hour.
Cost:
The caster can decimate the pools of anyone in his sight. A number of pool points equal to twice times the caster's Success Levels are destroyed.
Cost:
The target of this spell becomes not present in the eyes of those that surround him. (Dogs and other animals that track with their noses are unaffected, if a bit confused.) While this spell is negated immediately if more than 25 people are looking for the target, that shouldn't happen too much. Anyone looking for the target specifically can roll a Resist Ability Check versus the Success Level of this spell. This effect lasts an hour.
Cost:
The target becomes a bi-pedal wolfen engine of destruction until the next eclipse. Reason is reduced to one point, with the points split between Vigor and Instinct. The target's best ability is flipped for Scrapping, and the target's second best ability is flipped for Athletics. The target's fingers become claws with +1 harm to rip soft things like flesh, clothes, and leather. You must touch the target to cast this spell.
Cost:
The jailers approached Hanish's cell, stinking with the sweat of fear. The older one drew out his keys, fumbling to try and get one in the lock.
"Open," Hanish said, and the lock clicked. The younger jailer's eyes drew wide as Hanish pushed the door open and walked past him.
Weird light streamed through the barred windows as Hanish climbed the stairs to Absolon's chamber. The air burned red from the Sky Fire, forming a feverish corona that filled half of the heavens. The language of creation should have never been loosed on mankind, he thought.
King Absolon pushed away his magicians and wise men, who huddled around him like children clinging for their mother's attention. "Foreigner, what would you do to stop this madness?"
As Absolon's charlatans drew back in horror, Hanish said simply, "I would break the world."
Zaru is a land broken and divided. Set in a delta at the eastern mouth of the Poison River, she has been conquered by Ammeni, her people enslaved. The only resistance are outcasts, people not welcome in the Zaru communities or worship halls, for they have committed the worst sin of all, the taking of human life, and discovered a dark knowledge the elders cannot bear.
Zaru was once rich. Her soil is extremely fertile and rice, swamp apples, and other crops grow bountifully. Zaru's greatest asset became her downfall, though: the language of zu, the language of creation, spread beyond her borders and infected the world. Zu is not like other languages; it is magical, and anyone hearing it can then use it themselves. Moreover, speaking it actually wills actions, circumstances, and objects into being.
Because of Zu's ability to infect others' minds, the Maldorite Emperor Absolon used it to cement his empire by making it the universal language of his people. When the knowledge of zu spread, the people of the world misused it, not understanding its power. Many people believe the use of it caused the great Sky Fire, and the subsequent destruction of the old world.
Zu is more than a language to the Zaru; it is also a religion. The beliefs of the Zaru people can best be described as "spiritual humanism." They believe zu is the language that was used to create the world by the First Man, and that all humans are his descendants, all divine. When the first murder occurred, zu was corrupted, as murder is destruction, the antithesis of what humans were born to do.
The Zaru have always seen themselves as the caretakers of zu, keeping it pure in the face of a world fallen. Hanish, the Zaru that traveled to King Absolon and helped stop the Sky Fire, changed the nature of zu with his final chant, altering the path of the Zaru forever.
Zu is made up of discrete syllables, each with a generalized meaning. There are no specific words; instead, complex ideas are built from combinations. These syllables each have three meanings, based on tone:
- A noun, spoken with no tone
- A verb, spoken with a low tone
- A modifier (what we know as adjectives and adverbs), spoken with a high tone
The syllables, depending on tone, mean each of these things; thus, no syllable exists in zu that cannot be used as a noun, verb, and modifier. Pronouns are implied by context and body language. Sentences, as modern-day speakers think of them, exist by combining these syllables. The last syllable used in a sentence conveys the sentence type. A sentence ending in a noun is a statement of fact, meaning "this exists" or "this is so." A sentence ending in a verb is a command, even if it refers to the speaker: the speaker is stating his action and in essence, commanding himself. A sentence ending in a modifier is different than any modern sentence. It expresses hope or desire for change, meaning "I wish that it was like this."
As mentioned, syllables are general terms, not specific. There is no one syllable for "tiger," for example. "Tiger" would be spoken as "knife-tooth-hunter-beast." Another example would be "sword," which is said as "killing-knife." When designing a syllable to use in the game, try breaking down English words into their most atomic parts. If a zu speaker does not use multiple syllables to be specific, then the most appropriate meaning is assumed. For example, if a speaker says "beast" in a forest, he means "forest animal"; if he were to say the same syllable in a snake pit, he means snake. If he were to say "knife" to a farmer and a hunter, he would again mean different things - most likely a scythe and a hunting knife.
Also as mentioned, each syllable has three forms.
| Noun | Verb | Modifier |
|---|---|---|
| knife | cut | sharp |
| tooth | eat | full |
| murder | kill | murderous |
| hunter | hunt/stalk | stealthy |
| hunger | starve | hungry |
There is one syllable in zu that is not like any other: "zu." "Zu" is an affirmation, an agreement. Originally, there was no opposite, no "no" in zu. (True Zaru never speak in the negative: if there is nothing affirmative to say, they do not speak in zu.) With the first act of murder, however, that changed. The murderer, the destroyer, lost his ability to speak the syllable "zu." Instead, he spoke the syllable "uz," a word of disagreement and destruction. No man can say both "zu" and "uz."
Originally, anyone who spoke zu could use it as words of power. Stating that something was so made it so; commanding someone made compelled them; wishing for different circumstances brought them into being. With Hanish's final chant, this changed. He brought all the power of zu into himself, re-creating himself as the First Man. Suddenly, the Zaru lost their power, as their language became ordinary and impotent.
Hanish died that day, but the power of zu did not die with him. Instead, it changed forever. The power of a syllable could be harnessed, but only by one person at a time. Anyone who studies zu can speak it, but only those who are the master of a syllable can use it to enforce their will. Now, Zaru priests, outcasts, and foreigners vie to obtain the knowledge of these words.
In the game, words of power are used like this:
Nouns will things into being. These things, if animate, are not under the speaker's control. The speaker's player must spend a point of Reason and make an unopposed Ability Check using his character's Zu ability. (If the thing summoned is unnatural for the surroundings, a penalty die should be imposed for circumstances.) If anyone else is present, they can resist, using their Resist ability. The thing will appear near the speaker, and any information about the thing not spoken as a word of power will be determined by the Story Guide.
Example
Dan's character Damuzi says the syllables "stealthy-beast". A stealthy creature will appear, but whether it is a cat, wolf, or whatever else is up to the Story Guide.
Verbs are commands, and impose the will of the speaker on another. The speaker's player must spend a point of Instinct and make an opposed Ability Check using his character's Zu ability versus the opponent's Resist ability, with Instinct as the associated pool. Only animate beings can be affected, and a being cannot be compelled to do an impossible task.
Example
Damuzi later says "burn" to an enemy, but the enemy has no way to burn himself, and so ignores it. If Damuzi first started a fire, then his command could take affect.
The target being must be able to hear the speaker.
Modifiers change circumstances or actions. Unlike commands, modifiers can be used against animate and inanimate objects that the speaker can see. Whatever the object is, it must be performing an action, even if it is as simple as the wind blowing. The speaker spends a point of Vigor and must make an Ability Check using his character's Zu ability. If the target is animate and the target can hear the speaker, the Ability Check can be opposed by the target's Resist ability. Circumstances do apply to this Ability Check; the Story Guide can feel free to impose penalty dice for modifying large forces of nature and the like.
The Success Level of the Ability Check is used to impose bonus or penalty dice, depending on how the modifier affects the action. If a messenger is running, and the speaker says "fast," then the runner gets bonus dice to run. If an enemy is holding onto a cliff edge, and the speaker says "fast" to the wind, then the wind will blow faster, and the enemy will receive penalty dice to hang on.
The danger of using zu around other people is that they may steal the knowledge of a syllable. When a zu is spoken, anyone who hears it can engage the speaker in a battle of wills to own the knowledge of that word.
In game mechanics, anyone who hears the syllable, has an advance to spend, and has either the Secret of Zu or the Secret of Uz can steal the syllable. If the thief does not have either Secret, his player can immediately spend an advance to take it. In order to steal a syllable, an opposed Ability Check of the thief's Zu ability is made against the speaker's Zu ability. If the Ability Check is successful, the thief spends an advance and takes the syllable. The speaker loses the syllable, but gains an advance.
A willing gift of a syllable does not require an Ability Check, but does require the expediture of advances. The spending of advances to take zu is like buying a Secret for your character, but is not subject to the normal rules about the order of advances that can be taken.
When the Zaru lost their language, they lost the ability to defend themselves. By nature, the Zaru are pacifists, finding no need for violence with their terrible gifts. As they emerged back into the world, they found themselves overpowered by the Ammenites, who had long before envied the fertility of the Zaru delta. Zaru's people were taken as slaves and made to work in the worst sort of hot, steamy, swampy conditions.
As the world regrows, though, Zaru has found itself in an even worse position: not only are her people enslaved, but they are divided. Can the power of zu save them - or will it destroy them?
As a people, the Zaru are fairly uniform in appearance. Black hair is virtually homogenous among them, and their skin is dusky, their eyes dark. If they look like a modern-day people of Earth, those people would come straight out of Southeast Asia, complete with loose-fitting clothes and large, flat hats made to keep the burning sun off them when toiling in the fields.
As a nation, Zaru does not exist any longer. Ammeni truly has dominated it, and Zaru villages exist on Ammenite plantations, under the care of foremen. Typical construction is made of bamboo, and communities exist around "speaking halls," long buildings in which the Zaru eat, cook, converse, and often sleep. Only the elders of a community and their adult children have the privilege of living in tiny huts built around the speaking hall. Older villages, pre-Shadow, do exist in Zaru, which are basically larger versions of their slave villages: large speaking halls with family houses built around the central building. These are usually constructed of hard, baked clay around a bamboo center, and are incredibly durable. As insurgency has grown in Zaru, some radical groups have fled to the old towns and formed their bases of operations there.
Families are very important in traditional Zaru culture. They are viewed as "mini-villages," with the eldest person being the leader of that family. (Pre-Shadow Zaru houses bear this out, as they are usually built as a long room spanning the house, with small rooms for Elders built off of this.) Villages are built around the same structure, with the eldest person in village taking the role of priest and leader, as they have seen more and heard more than anyone else. The Ammenites are well aware of this, and break up families and villages by sending children inland and working the elderly to an early death. One underground movement in Zaru returns babies to their mothers in the dark night, traveling far over land to switch them back.
The zu phrase for an Ammenite is "land-thief," an appropriate epithet for a people who have turned Zaru into their personal playground. Even more sinister are the terms "word-thief" and "blood-thief."
"Word-thief" is a term given to a non-Zaru that uses the sacred tongue of zu, especially Ammenite sorcerers. Zaru elders are torn on how to deal with the resurgence of zu and its potent virulence. The majority of them, who remember a time when zu was taken away, agree that it should not be used, thereby keeping it firmly - but uselessly - in Zaru hands. The younger generation doesn't completely agree: there is a strong underground movement to rebel against the Ammenites using any means necessary.
There are several priestly organizations loosing forming in Zaru, all centered around proper zu usage and Zaru unity. One group believes that all zu should be kept firmly in the hands of Zaru, specifically elders, thereby keeping the unwise from using it, and denying their enemies a potent weapon. This group, the Watchers, train young rebels to work as "word-horses," adventurers who steal zu from non-Zaru, or Zaru using it unwisely, and bring those zu back to their priests. This group is committed to the Zaru way of non-violence, but some fringe priesthoods have seen fit to use foreign mercenaries to carry words.
The Sons of Hanish follow a more moderate path. They seek to follow in the path of Hanish and be an active force in the world, while staying true to their beliefs. This group operates in cells, which are based on the family "mini-village" structure, and attempts to change the situation of the Zaru by subtle actions, like using zu to influence a foreman to keep a family together, or causing a crop to do poorly. They have designed a martial arts form, Uptenbo or "life-shield-hand," which is non-lethal but powerful, concentrating on redirection of force and incapacitation.
The Moonmen are the most radical of the Zaru priesthoods, and are the most diverse. While the Sons of Hanish are mainly young and male, and the Watchers older, the Moonmen are made up of brash youngsters, lunatic elderly, calm mothers, and even foreigners. They advocate nothing more than a full unleashing of Zaru power. Non-violence is taken only on a personal basis among them, and they have no real structure. Instead, individual Moonmen tend to upset the cart, often putting the community in a worse situation, and spread their beliefs among those pressured enough to listen. It is said that the Moonmen count among their ranks at least one elf and several goblins. More conservative Zaru call these "blood-thieves," both for their subversion of the normal Zaru structure, and for their willingness to kill.
The Zaru are a small, insular people whose sense of identity is culture- and language-based much more so than it is region-based. Other species are not readily accepted, although that doesn't mean that the Zaru are a bunch of speciest bastards. They've just got such a crummy lot in life that they don't have a lot of time for others.
Goblins are a common sight among the Ammenites, who keep them as pets, so they draw wariness. Elves, who are much less common in general, are better respected, although their philosophical beliefs clash with the Zaru.
Strangest of all is the Zaru relationship with ratkin. The swamp's a fertile breeding ground for ratkin, and many live in the ruins of old Zaru. They have become neighbors of a sort, and it's not unheard of at all for ratkin to perform tasks the Zaru can't in their struggle against Ammeni.
Phillipe, lord of the manor, stood with a grin. "Lord Fleur shows me much respect with this spread before me," he said to the servant girl draped in silk gauze over a low-slung chaise. "These fruits and dried meats are spectacular. Nomi, do sample them."
The Zaru slave nodded, his mutilated tongue ruined for speech but trained in the art of poison-finding. After tasting the many presents given to Phillipe, and washing them down with a sip of wine from Before the Shadow, he glanced at the succulent gift upon the chaise with a question in his eyes.
"Ah, Nomi. This delight is my own to sample," Phillipe grinned. He placed a wedge of starfruit on his lips and swallowed it down in one overtly sexual motion. Drawing close to the girl, he began to unwrap his present. "Let us see what is ripe in this garden." He nestled his face in her bosom, then trailed downwards, drawing the fragrant juices like fresh honeysuckle.
As Phillipe's eyes rolled back, the girl kicked him backwards onto the floor, his swollen tongue lewdly protruding from his lips. "You were correct, Nomi. This one is too trusting," she said, reaching between her legs to pull out a delicate, but deadly, blossom, and tossing it upon Phillipe's unmoving breast.
Ammeni is a land of beauty and death, exotic foods and terrible poisons, incredible wealth and decimating poverty. It is geographically positioned to be a focal point for trade in northern Near, with its north coast bordering the Sea of Teeth and its eastern shore a wide delta against the ocean. The western and southern borders end at the intersection of the Belhor River and Absolon's Way, although it controls only the eastern portion of that land well, with the west fallen into barbarism and savagery. The primary seats of power run near the River of Vipers, which cuts down from the Sea of Teeth to the Zaru Delta, which Ammeni has captured for its own.
Ammeni, being incredibly hot and wet, is extremely fertile. The majority of the Houses' business is growing rice and fruits and farming fish and water buffalo. These staples, plus the chiles grown further in the west, provide them with an endless source of trade. Their navy is powerful and is used for shipping, not only for Ammeni, but to allied merchants in Maldor, where it makes a tidy profit on the deal. Ammeni is also home to Near's most wondrous drugs and deadliest poisons. A career in death is definitely a lucrative one here. The items Ammeni is most deficient in, yet craves, are metals and jewels. Most of their trade is for these two goods.
Power in Ammeni comes from the seven Houses, plantations with have grown into both tremendous mercantile houses and governmental entities. The "House" refers not only to the ruler of the House, or the business, but also the land that House controls. Within a House, laws are determined by the ruler of that House or his staff, and are usually capriciously enforced. Trade law is created by majority vote among the rulers of the seven Houses, the Council, which are normally embroiled in the covert sabotage and annexation of each other, forming alliances that last only weeks before backstabbing allies. These Houses are seven heads of the same hydra; before the year of Shadow, the seven Houses were seven sons of the same ancient father, who ruled the waterways and fields of Ammeni. Those sons' descendants emerged after the Shadow to divide Ammeni, and quarrel with each other only slightly less than they subjugate the peasantry.
The one cause that has recently joined the Houses is a war on the Ammeni-Khale border. Rumors of a strange substance called "moon-metal" have emerged from Khale, and the Ammenite Houses have thrown their normal caution regarding Khale to the wind in order to control this material, rumored to have powerful properties. This has worked out poorly for both sides of the conflict: the Khaleans strike in small groups and have eradicated every excursion into their land by Ammeni military, although with high losses.
Ammenites are known outside their country for their cruelty and decadence. The appearance is misleading, however: only the richest of Ammenites have the opportunity for cruelty and the ability for decadence. The rest of them are merely opportunists, making the best deals they can in a colonial society. The upper class of Ammenites, however, are decadent to an extreme, clothing themselves in the finest silk and eating bizarre delicacies grown only in the fertile delta soil. Ammenites are the descendants of Maldor, although they do not like to be reminded of this fact. Their language is much like the language of Maldor, but is filled with pops and flecks in between words to convey connotation.
A full five percent of the population of Ammeni belongs to the hyper-wealthy House families, although many of these are not related by blood. The habitual assassination of family members meant that ambitious types may rise quickly. Slavery is common in Ammeni, and at least twenty-five percent of the population is made of slaves, many of them from the former nation of Zaru. The incidence of death among slaves is almost as high as that among House family members: slaves are treated with the utmost brutality by the desensitized and dazed rulers. The rest of the population are either what we would know as middle management - low-level employees assigned to control slaves and supervise menial labor - or poor freemen, who try to attract as little attention as possible, and often leave Ammeni to become wanderers or traders.
The Ammenites collect art of other cultures more than they create their own: the acquisition of art is a hobby for the upper classes. Native Ammenite art is bizarre, focusing on themes of oppression and the inevitability of death. The most famous Ammenite painting is of a rice patty, red with blood, with tall stalks rising to the sky; the most famous book is the story of the last 24 hours of a rich, mad man. Zaru slaves do create art as well, although mostly ritual chants made of gibberish that manage to convey emotion. Their funeral dirges are known to bring even the strongest Ammenites to tears, which brings horrible wrath upon them.
The food of Ammeni, however, is considered a delicacy. Hot and spicy, full of cream, rice, and noodles, as well as odd ingredients such as slugs, uncooked quail eggs, and fish-eyes, it evokes either love or disgust in most people. They make a rice wine that is similar: either astounding or repulsive, depending on the taster, and take large amounts of poiture, the pollen of a gleaming white flower that grows wild in the rice fields of Ammeni. Poiture puts people into a deep relaxed state much like slumber where the sense of time becomes elongated.
The Ammenites eschew religion, worshipping only gold and riches. The Council of Houses has outlawed religious ceremonies in the land, although both the Zaru slaves and members of the Houses often participate in odd cults, especially the Revenant Cult. This cult maintains that the ancient House Father still lives, driven on by a poisonous cocktail, and its members reach for immortality by experimentation, attempting to recreate the Father's mystic brew.
From the fertile ground of Ammeni grows the world's largest supply of drugs of all types. Recreational drugs, poisons, and great healing herbs all sprout up wildly throughout Ammeni. The most common of these is a flower called poiture. White poiture is a powerful recreational drug, sending the user in a hazy dream-state where consciousness becomes very third-person and the sense of time grows elongated. Red poiture, a much rarer type, causes fevered activity, occasional rage, and a loss of concentration. Black poiture is known to give a much more potent high than white poiture, and has reputed healing powers, but causes death in small quantities.
Between the cornucopia of herbs and significant studies of the inner workings of the body done by curious or disturbed Ammenites, healers are common here. Many healers find employment in Houses as personal doctors or torturers, and others become medics in the legions. Unaffiliated healers are harder to come by, and most leave Ammeni to wander, although a few stay behind to help the Zaru underground.
Unafflilated poisoners, on the other hand, are a dime a dozen. They might change affiliation once a week. For this reason, the hardest job interview in Ammeni is for a chef position. Chefs are known to be the best poisoners, and getting a job in a House as one means being interviewed by the ruler of that House, as well as his staff, and perhaps his torturer.
Ammenites are not altogether comfortable with anything besides humans in their midst; those of the Houses are not truly comfortable with humans that don't have wealth, even. Still, some elves find their way into acceptance, given that they have a black enough heart.
Goblins, given their nature, are generally thought of as pets, and find themselves hooked on Ammeni's exotic foods and drugs. Many of them find themselves employed as taskmasters, thugs, or playthings.
Ratkin are not uncommon in the swampier parts of the land, but are either hunted or pressed into labor. Their assistance to the people of Zaru brings special torture upon them when caught.
Poisons and drugs can have the following mechanical effects:
There is not a definitive list of poisons and drugs in The Shadow of Yesterday. Instead, all can be made from the above list of effects.
To find the materials for drugs or poisons, a successful Herb Lore check needs to be made. The found material can be used as a poison or drug, but it can only have one beneficial effect from the above list. It must have one deleterious effect. In addition, the poison can only be taken orally. To increase its potency, and allow it to be used via other methods, the poison must be distilled. Using the Distill Herbs ability, with bonus dice from the Herb Lore check, extra effects can be added. The first extra effect is free, and others can be gained using Ammenite Secrets. When a poison is distilled, it is made into an infusion, the essence of the poison suspended in liquid, usually grain alcohol. The infusion must be taken orally, injected, or otherwise gotten into the target's bloodstream in order to take effect.
When a poison is administered to someone, they must make a resisted Andure Ability Check. They are resisting an already rolled check - either the Herb Lore check in the case that it is an undistilled poison, or the Distill Herbs check in the case of a distilled poison. (When making these checks, the player should record the result as the infusion's potency.)
In the case of an undistilled poison, the character comes to no harm if the Endure check is successful, and receives any beneficial effect the poison has. If unsuccessful, all the poison's effects take place, and the character takes harm equal to the potency. The poison's negative effects last until the harm is gone. The beneficial effects last until the end of the next scene with that character. In the case of a distilled infusion, the character receives the undistilled effects if the Endure check is successful, but takes no damage. The effect wears off in the next scene. If unsuccessful, the infusion's full effect takes place, with harm, and the negative effects do not wear off until that harm is gone. The positive effects last until the end of the next scene with that character.
Only a few tribes-people were left, their warriors decimated in a lightning strike by the vipers of Ammeni. Nevins and Violet, brother and sister, carried the mortally-wounded chief in a make-shift bundle.
"Nevins, take my spear," the chieftain moaned. "You must lead the tribe now."
Nevins shifted uncomfortably, his lute banging against his elbow. "Father, I am forsworn not to fight, but to tell the stories of battle."
"Tighten your wrists," growled the dying chief. "Be a man of Khale. It is your duty and destiny to protect the tribe's women."
Violet sighed. "Give me the spear already, Father. My arm is as strong as any man's, and deadlier."
"Woman, daughter - you cannot wield the sacred spear of our tribe. The wood would creak and break under your grasp. Be not jealous of your brother. It is your duty to raise the remnants of our tribe."
"I cannot wield ..." Violet started, astonished at her father's lack of wisdom. Her eyes grew tight in anger, and then tighter in concentration. Catlike, she grabbed the spear and tossed it into the brush.
"Fool woman! Your petty jealousy will cost us our heritage."
Violet stormed away, reaching into the undergrowth. She pulled out a bloody spear and the black-clad head of an Ammenite assassin, severed with one blow. "I cannot wield the tribal spear, you said?"
Across the Border Sea, the deep green peninsula of Khale is an echo of Qek's lushness. Once a stone's throw across the Hungry River from Qek, the earthquakes of the Time of Shadow have split it away as the river was ripped into the much larger Sea of Teeth. It is still close: the Dragon's Mouth is a small strait between Khale and Qek, and is usually much calmer than the sea. Controlling this strait, as well as a mysterious substance called moon-metal, earns Khale the enmity of its southern neighbor, Ammeni, who has attacked the country in a war of attrition for several years.
The forests of Khale are wet and thick, but move from jungle to evergreen woodlands, dappled with sunlight. They are sacred to the people of Khale who live beneath their towering bows. Everything a tribesman could need is found under the forest-top, from fields of mushrooms and plants for medicine and food, to deer to hunt and ride, to fallen tree limbs easily sap-cured into bows and spears. Before the Time of Shadow, great webbed cities connected the forest; since then, the remnants of tribes live only off the land.
Khale is a harsh land in which to live: its many rivers flow with the blood of cousins, as the many tribes fight for control of their own land, and Ammeni pushes its troops further north. The land rumbles as many chieftains try to unite the tribes, but so far, none have been successful.
Khaleans (ka-le-ans) are a hearty and strong people, Mediterranean in appearance, with generally black, brown, or red hair, and green or brown eyes. They claim ancient heritage with the people of Qek, although they speak different languages, and maintain good relations with the few Qek that emerge from the jungle.
Khaleans operate in tribes of two to four dozen people and consider all tribe members to be their family, not just blood relations. In fact, blood brothers from different tribes are not considered to be related at all, except in the way that all Khaleans are related. Upon marriage, males join the tribe of their wife, becoming part of a new family. In addition, outsiders, or those with no family, can become part of the tribe through a naming ritual.
Within the tribe, status is very important. While family lines are matriarchal, positions of power are dominated by men. The tribe's chief is almost always male, the husband of the eldest woman in the tribe, and his advisors, usually a bard and his most accomplished warrior, are also men. When two tribes battle, it is Khalean law - that is, tradition as old as Khale - that only the tribe's men can fight. If a woman were found to be fighting for a tribe, it would be a horrible disgrace, and that tribe would more than likely surrender the fight.
Each tribe governs itself in Khale, making its own laws and staking its own territory. The Year of Shadow scattered the old tribes, and since then, many of the new tribes have made war on each other over parcels of land, each claiming ancestral rights.
Ammeni, however, has declared war on Khale in the past few years. Several tribal leaders have attempted to unite the tribes in order to strike out at the foreign warriors, who are systematically destroying the forests on Khale's southern border. No true leader has emerged thus far, and Khale grows smaller and more fragile each year. One unexpected side-effect of the war with Ammeni is that some women have taken up arms, causing tension within tribes.
The forests of Khale are worshiped as ancestors. Each tree in a tribe's territory is believed to be a fallen member of the tribe, born again as part of the land. (This further inflames battles between tribes over land, as each tribe believes the trees there to be their ancestors.) An ancient and legendary tree in the center of Khale is said to be the great King Khale, a ruler that united all of the peninsula and lands beyond, and the father of all modern Khaleans.
Khale has one of the most vibrant artistic cultures in Near, most probably because of their belief that creating art is a form of worship. While their painting and sculpture are beautiful, their real excellence is with their music and stories, which are intertwined. Their stories and songs are usually about the tales of ancestral heroes, although they are usually embellished or even completely made up, depending on who you ask. (Khaleans insists that all their stories are true, although one of their favorite proverbs is "a story should be told the way things should have happened.") Often, an entire tribe will dress up and act out a play depicting a story of ancient Khale, even getting other friendly tribes to participate.
Religion revolves around festivals, gatherings where a tribe - or many friendly tribes - will gather for a many-day-long revelry and celebration of their past. All festivals have telling of great tales done by their ancestors, done ritually around a bonfire. These rituals are competitive as tribal priests or bards try to outdo each other with fantastic stories. The bards, part priest and part artist, are given a special place in Khalean culture, as they are immune to normal tribal conflicts. When two tribes clash, the bards of each tribe will meet to write down the story of the conflict, narrating it as the battle flows. Killing a bard is a criminal offense, and usually results in the death of the murderer.
Magic is fully accepted in Khale, and fascinates most people. The bards of Khale, and foreign sorcerers (called druids by the Khaleans) are highly respected and use magic freely. It is said that each bard learns three Perfect Chords in his lifetime: one to bring tears of sorrow; one to change tears of sorrow to tears of joy; and the last to put listeners to sleep.
Inside the forests of Khale, there is another world, a mystic world. This is their greatest secret, and it is forbidden to share it with those not of the tribe. Ancient trees, those with a circumference greater than three men holding hands, can be used as a gateway into the Green World. This Green World is a maze of pathways, some so small that one must crawl through them, and others large enough for five people to stand side-by-side. The walls of these caverns are growing wood, light and grainy, and glow with faint green light. When the Sky Fire came, many Khaleans moved into the Green World to escape, building cities inside its immense caverns. Those cities lie dead now, and are said to be haunted; gnarled trees grow throughout them, with human expressions twisted into their trunks.
The Green World covers all of Khale, and can be used as a passageway to anywhere else in the land, provided there is a guide. When one ends up is less certain: while experienced travelers have little trouble, those who get lost in the Green World may find themselves exiting into another time entirely. Bards sometime use these passages to go to earlier times and talk to ancient ancestors, although no one has ever been able to travel within one hundred years before the Time of Shadow, or one year after it.
Legends say that King Khale himself still wanders these halls, a large old man with a beard like moss, and hands like wood-knots. Supposedly, he or other great ancestors can guide you to any place and time within these halls, or grant you great boons, provided you perform a quest, usually a re-enactment of a previous adventure of the ancestor. During festivals, tribes will sometimes send their greatest bards and warriors to perform a quest and grant them success over their enemies.
As war envelops Khale from the south, some tribes have moved completely into the Green World, leaving the land of Khale behind. Their great mistake lies in the fact that the Green World does not stand alone: it is formed of the forest of Khale, and as the forest falls, it grows dimmer and smaller.
Within tribes, farming and hunting are both respectable jobs and craftsmen and artists are well respected. The ability of Khalean craftsmen to forge sharp swords and carve strong tools and weapons from wood, curing them with sap, is legendary.
Khale trades for metal tools with Qek, and their longships sail to Jalna and Goren to trade spices which do not grow in those countries' colder environments. Many young Khalean men, bereft of family, have joined crews, even becoming pirates. The Wooden Sickle is a famous ship of pirate youth that has been the scourge of the Ammeni coastline.
Khaleans have a taste for drink, and import beer from Maldor and Goren and wine from Oran in large quantities. They also are known to grow marijuana, a plant which is smoked for mild hallucinatory and relaxative effects. This drug is said to bring out epic tales in heroes and increase sexual desire.
(See the section on Ammeni for more information on game mechanics for drugs.)
After the Year of Shadow, a group of explorers found a forest like no other in northern Khale; metal grew up from the ground, gleaming like bright silver, sprouting branches like trees. This, the only metal in Khale, is said to be a piece of the Shadow Moon fell to earth. Whatever it is, it has taken root and grows in a parody of a natural forest.
Moon-metal is easy to craft, and deadly sharp and strong. If heated over a fire, it responds to the user's wants to form itself into any metal object, which is of superior quality (an automatic +1 weapon or armor.) However, it severs the user's relationship with the Green World. If moon-metal so much as touches you, you receive one penalty die with the ability Tree-Bond. Each day that you are in contact with moon-metal, the penalty dice grow, to a maximum of five. It takes an expediture of five Vigor and five Instinct points to remove one penalty die. (These points need not be spent all at once if a character does not have that many.) One cannot enter the Green World with any moon-metal upon their person.
Like their claimed brethren, the Qek, Khaleans have little problem with other species. Goblins form tribes throughout Khale, and are called spriggans by the locals, who find them more amusing than annoying. Elves are viewed with some pity and suspicion: they are believed to be the seeds of fallen ancestors who did not take root and now wander. The Ratkin are not numerous in Khale, preferring the cities, but there is the rumor of one Khalean tribe composed completely of Ratkin.
Mutex and his father each took a swig from the jug of watered-down araka. It had been a good day fishing, and it had been a good thirteenth birthday. A new set of bone fishing-arrows was an excellent gift, and it fit Mutex's new role perfectly. He was now an adult, and he would provide the family's sea-meat.
A kayak rose over the waves. "Laertes!" Mutex called out. The Ammenite trader had been good to his family, trading good rice and bamboo for shiny rocks and knowledge. Mutex's brother had taught his the secrets of the kayak.
Mutex's nose filled with a black scent, though, carried over the Sea of Teeth. He stood to see, and saw his friend was in dire trouble or mad. A dozen kayaks came behind him, each ridden by a foul shade-thing, a dead spirit trapped in a dead body, rotting flesh and hungry teeth.
The ocean's roar filled the air, yet Mutex's voice could be heard above it. "Drown!" he roared, and nine kayaks dived into the rough waters. It was not enough to save his friend, though, he knew, just as he knew what to do next. Drawing out a jeweled knife, he cut his palm, and then made a slashing motion in the air with the hand, his blood spraying into a door, a door into death which his spirit stepped into.
His roho flew over the waters with only moments to spare, a bright form, sharp with anger, and cut each dead thing's spark from its putrid body. Exhausted, he fell to rest in his own body again.
His father's face was proud and stern, a weapon severing him as well as his dagger. "You will never return to your mother again. Go now."
Qek is the northernmost known land in Near, and one of the most forbidding. Filled from coast to mountain with thick rainforest and jungle, Qek is a place of mystery and legend. It is the borderlands of the world and the north coast of the Sea of Teeth.
This hot jungle-land might well be left alone, were it not for the copious amounts of jewels found in its caves. There are no cities, no centers of civilization, only the smallest of villages along the coastline.
The people of Qek live among the jungle in small family units. Short, thin, and brown, the Qek (as they call both themselves and their land) hunt wild birds, boars, and reptiles and gather wild fruits for their sustanence. The people of inner Qek are generally unknown to outsiders; the families along Qek's shores that live on fishing are the few that generally speak with non-Qek. The boats of these people are legendary - small one-man kayaks made of jungle wood that they use to surf on top of the waves of the Border Sea, easily outrunning any other ship.
The only real unit of people in Qek is the family. Families live together, carving out a small bit of land to call their own, although there's no real land ownership. Three generations usually live together: a husband and wife, some of their parents, and their children. Generally, as sons and daughters grow to maturity, they leave and form new family units; as one half of a couple dies of old age, the other will live with one of their children.
Qek has no government, but each family unit is part of a larger family unit. Within the larger family unit, families defer to the family they grew up in when they meet. In distant relations, the older family is deferred to, although they often choose another to make decisions. There is no clan-type structure in Qek: there are no clumps of unrelated people at all.
The Qek have no written language, at least not since the Year of Shadow. Because of this, their art revolves around painting and oral storytelling. A great majority of their art is utilitarian in nature: ornately carved spears and staffs; beautifully crafted clay jugs; shields painted with intricate camouflaging patterns. Without cities, traditional sculpture is almost unknown, although carved frescas in rock are relatively common, used to tell ancient stories.
The music of Qek is unearthly, and most outsiders have a hard time appreciating it. Their language is made up of a multitude of hard consonants, which lends a gutteral quality to it, whether spoken or sung. In addition, the music has no traditional rhythm, instead alternating between discordant rhythms frequently. While a large part of their music - all based around stories - is sung, it is sometimes accompanied by a churang, a guitar-like instrument made of dried innards strung across a hollowed-out armadillo shell.
Qek's jungles are full of succulent fruit and spices, and are used liberally to season their food. A speciality that has reached out to be eaten elsewhere in Near is wild boar glazed with mango and coca, a plant native only to Qek. Coca (in the modern day, chocolate) grows in huge pods within Qek's jungles, and is used to make a hallucinatory beverage called araka of dried coca pods, fermented bananas, and hot chiles.
The Qek do trade with the people of Khale and the wild people of Oran, the mountain country west of Ammeni, exchanging wild fruits and coca for tools of metal, which they do not have the craft to make themselves. In addition, Qek is known for its precious gems. The people of Qek find these stones useless except for tools (they tip their own spears with diamond, which slip through armor as if it were butter, for example) and they are often traded for goods or services. Men from other countries that do not respect the sanctity of Qek often attempt to sneak into the country and smuggle out gems and coca pods, although few return.
The people of Qek do not speak of religion: they worship no single entity or have organized worship. They do, however, have a strong belief in the idea of spirits.
Spirits have three forms, the roho, the sasha, and the zamani. (In case you're curious, the plural form of these words are the same as the singular.) The roho are the spirits of the living, the animus that gives them individuality and vitality. These are bound within the bodies of people, animals, and plants. People and animals have the strongest roho, while plants have the oldest roho.
The sasha are the "half-dead." Those who have died that are personally remembered by those still alive are sasha. Memories from stories do not count: someone who met the person while alive must still live. These spirits have a will of their own and remember their name, and they are said to hover close to earth, watching those who knew them. Their will can be bent by changing the memories of their human tethers.
The zamani are the true dead, those long dead and forgotten. They do not remember their name and their own will is the longing for final rest, in the oblivion above the earth.
Some Qek, through birth or training, find themselves walking the path of the walozi, or sorcerer. These people can speak to the dead, get rid of evil spirits, and even bind sasha and zamani to new bodies. The Qek are no strangers to magic, and do not fear it, but walozi cannot be part of any family once they contact their first spirit. They are ejected to live on their own.
Conversing with roho and sasha is considered fine magic to use, and families will often consult walozi to contact their loved dead. Consorting with zamani, however, is dark magic, indeed, and any walozi known to do so is shunned. These necromancers will live deep within the jungle, performing their dark rites.
Roho can be:
If your character's adventuring in Qek, you might find yourself in the odd position of playing your own character's spirit. Have fun with this, and do not hold back, afraid that the roho will betray your character. How often do you get to play your character's internal monologue?
Sasha can be:
Zamani can be:
The Qek have little problem with other species in their land, being a pretty curious people themselves. Elves are known to travel through Qek on occasion; some stories say they come from the wild deserts over the northern mountains as escaped slaves. What exactly enslaves elves in unknown, which is probably for the best. Goblins infest the hills at Qek's northern borders and run free through its jungles. Ratkin are rare in Qek, and thought of as a myth.
When sasha or zamani come into the living world, either as a spirit or bound to a body, there are limits to their abilities.
Sasha start as they were in life, but have half of their normal pools, and their ability ranks are capped at the Success Level of the Ability Check used to summon them, minus one. The number of combined Secrets and Keys they can have are capped at the Success Level. Success Level 6 grants full restoration, including pools and Secrets. If bound to a dead body, they are automatically severed when broken.
Players with dead characters should feel free to have their characters brought back through Qek sorcery. They do obey all normal rules on pool and ability caps, but can gain experience for as long as they remain in the living world. If severed, they must be re-summoned and hope again for a skilled sorcerer.
Zamani can have no Keys. They start with abilities like beasts with Unskilled rank in each ability, and have no pools. They have advances equal to three times the Success Level of the Ability Check used to summon them. Half of these advances are spent by the player, if a player's character has summoned a zamani; the other half are spent by the Story Guide. If bound to a dead body, they are automatically severed when bloodied.