TEXT:  
  
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
  !Editorial 
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
    Page 3 
   
   The Hammer’s Stroke, Part V  
   
   
   
   
    Page 4 
   
   Laborers of Toril, Part I II 
   
   
   
   
   
    Page 7 
   
   Folk of Faerûn: Portia Coldspring 
   
   
   
   
    Page 11 
   
   Untold Stories, collection V 
   
   
   
   
   
    Page 15 
   
   Earling’s Spray, Part II 
   
   
   
   
   
    Page 19 
   
   Planar Lore: The City of Dis  
   
   
   
   
    Page 24 
   
   Unveiling Waterdeep’s Hidden Lords, Part I 
   
   
    Page 29 
   
   Communities of Impiltur: Ilmwatch, the Fortress City 
   
    Page 33 
   
   Spellbooks of Faerûn: The Seven Scrolls of Nuthmerkuld  
    Page 41 
   
   Journal of an Apprentice Scribe: The Feast of the Moon  
    Page 45 
   
   
   Credits 
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
    Page 48 
   
   
   
  Produced by 
   
  www.candlekeep.com 
  
   
  !
  !
  !
  elcome to another volume of the Candlekeep Compendium. A collection of the 
  finest Realmslore selected from the shelves of Candlekeep and delivered to us 
  from our wandering scribes, forever seeking to further our knowledge of the 
  Realms. 
   
  Within this tome, ye can find our regular columns covering the dwarven culture, the varied 
  laborers of our world and the many strange and wonderful tales collected from taverns and 
  rumormongers. In addition, Grimbuckle the gnome continues the tales of his planar travels 
  and informs us of his journey into the dread city of Dis.  After a short break, more 
  information is detailed for the vessel Earling’s Spray – this time focusing on the crew and 
  other aspects.  Again, following our regular scribes columns, yet another arcane collection has 
  been ‘borrowed’ in order to reveal the powers of the Seven Scrolls of Nuthmerkuld.  The 
  journeys of Rikos Dughol continue into the Sunset Vale where he experiences the Feast of 
  the Moon.  From these travels, we also have information given on a personality by the name 
  of Portia Coldspring, a cleric from the region. 
   
  With this volume of lore, two new very interesting columns are presented.  The first is an 
  insight into the communities of Impiltur, with information on Ilmwatch – the Fortress City.  
  Secondly, and on dicey ground we tread, the first of a four-part column unveiling the 
  Hidden Lords of Waterdeep.  Hopefully, we will see the remaining three articles in future 
  volumes of the Compendium, before our loyal scribe is halted by the authorities! 
   
  I  hope ye enjoy these latest installments from the halls of Candlekeep.  As always, it has been 
  a pleasure to sit and order our fearless and faithful scribes into the farthest reaches of Faerûn 
  and beyond, in order to bring ye this valuable lore. 
   
   
  - Alaundo of Candlekeep 
   
   
   
   
   
   
  This volume is dedicated to Chris Jameson (a.k.a Wooly Rupert) for his dedicated efforts and 
  invaluable assistance in the editing room for the Candlekeep Compendium.
  
   
  !
  !
  Part V 
  By Kevin Liss 
  (illustrated by Tyson Howard) 
   
  In loving memory of my mother, Rebecca. 
   
  +!+!+!+!
   
  From the scrolls of Auraclestan Quillvant: 
   
  he only constant in life is 
  death.  Those in Waterdeep, 
  the city of my birth, claim 
  taxes are another constant, 
  but that is neither hither nor 
  thither. 
     
  There were two occasions that I chanced 
  upon those rites and ceremonies of the Stout 
  Folk pertaining to death, occasions I will 
  likely never forget. 
   
  During my travels as a younger man, I 
  surrounded myself with brave companions 
  known as the Company of the Wielding.  
  Among them were strong Korin the Cleaver, 
  beautiful Pious Penna, and the good dwarf 
  Axe Barr.  I believe Barr was of the Deepaxes 
  of the North.   
   
  We wandered the Coast, through the old 
  Delzoun lands, and even as far as the 
  Dalelands.  We left many dead who meant us 
  harm, and found others who met a similar 
  fate at the hands of others. 
   
  The first time we chanced upon the body of a 
  fallen dwarf, I witnessed what I believed was 
  odd behavior on Barr’s part.  A group of hill 
  giants slaughtered a party of fortune seekers, 
  the last such massacre from that group when 
  we caught them.  The unfortunates included 
  a dwarf, a warrior from his garb.  Before we 
  could bury them, I noticed our dwarven 
  friend examining the gear of his fallen cousin.  
  From the slain dwarf’s possessions Barr kept 
  a handsome metal axe, wrapping it in cloth 
  and never wielding it in battle.  Although our 
  dwarven friend was a rogue, he was born of 
  honor, and never pilfered from those who 
  were not his enemies. 
   
  Traversing the wilds, we saw few civilized 
  folk, and found only small villages and 
  outposts.  At each, however, Barr sought 
  fellow sons of Moradin, not finding any.  My 
  curiosity soon won over etiquette, and I 
  questioned him one night on his behavior. 
     
  The first time, he dismissed my question, not 
  wanting to be bothered with it.  Never one to 
  back down from a mystery, I questioned him 
  continuously for the next tenday.  I must 
  have worn him down, like wind on the 
  stones, for finally he told me why he carried 
  the axe. 
   
  It seems that the Stout Folk are steeped in 
  tradition.  Every family passes forth a relic of 
  significance to their heirs.  With a birthrate 
  as low as it once was, this seldom fostered 
  any in-fighting among siblings and heirs.  
  Son to son, or, if needed, son to daughter, 
  then to the first male descendant, the 
  heirloom was passed.  Upon the passing of 
  the bearer of the gift, the next heir received 
  the item.  These items varied from clan to 
  clan and from family to family.  Many passed 
  along weapons.  Be they axes, swords, or 
  hammers, it mattered little, as long as the 
  weapon withstood the perils of time well.  
  Others passed along armor, and others again 
  crafters’ tools.  Each, however, bore the 
  symbol of the family, and with it their 
  traditions.  Whether the heirloom possessed 
  some magic, or not, was secondary to its 
  significance. 
   
  
   
  The axe, I was told, was the family relic of 
  the dead dwarf.  Being far from home, with 
  no other to send word of his fate to his kin, it 
  fell upon Axe Barr to carry the axe to 
  another, who again would seek another, to 
  another, until someone bore it home.  The 
  method of the dead dwarf’s demise mattered 
  not, only that the clan hear of his death 
  through the return of the family relic.  It was 
  for bards to sort out his tale. 
   
  One question, though, still lingered.  The 
  cloth he wrapped it in bore no special 
  meaning, for I had seen my friend blow his 
  nose with it before.  His answer was simple: 
  it allowed another dwarf to identify that the 
  relic was not his own, should they find his 
  body strewn upon the ground before it could 
  be passed on. 
   
  Curiously, 
  Barr’s 
  family 
  relic 
  was 
  an 
  adamantine key. 
   
  My second encounter with a death ritual of 
  the dwarves was indeed a sad occasion.  My 
  same companions and I ventured near 
  Citadel Adbar, whereupon Barr learned of the 
  passing of a great champion, Dorlun the 
  Daring.  Barr wanted to use the opportunity 
  to visit his kin, and pay his respects to the 
  fallen hero. 
   
  Surprisingly, we were allowed to attend the 
  services. 
   
  Seven days of mourning passed with Dorlun’s 
  body displayed upon a splendid dais in the 
  temple of Moradin.  I sought the temple out 
  several times during our stay, and at varied 
  times, and this I must say: the dwarves kept 
  a vigilant watch over their cousin.  There was 
  always a priest of the Allfather praying over 
  the body, while others visited their friend, 
  hero, or family member for the last time.  As 
  each paid homage to him, they would stoke 
  his beard, leave a small gift at the foot of the 
  
   
  dais, or rub his waraxe, which lay across his 
  chest, arms crossed over it.  They did so at 
  all 
  hours, 
  with 
  someone 
  always 
  in 
  attendance. 
   
  On the day of his entombment, Dorlun’s bier 
  was borne across the Citadel, into the earth, 
  to the Catacombs of the Fallen.  Those most 
  honored 
  – 
  kings, 
  martyrs, 
  and 
  others 
  touched by the gods – lay in special viewing 
  chambers.   
   
  These chambers are best described as large, 
  hollowed-out rooms, shaped something like a 
  large lantern. A platform extends into the 
  center of the chamber, hanging over empty 
  space. A rail-less walkway leads to this 
  platform, known as the projection bier. On 
  this stony overhang is a monument to the 
  fallen dwarf. Sometimes this monument is a 
  simple marker, sometimes it is an elaborately 
  crafted sarcophagus, and other times it is a 
  statue, larger than life but so cunningly 
  carved one would expect to see it breathing. 
    
  No matter what form the monument takes, it 
  is not the actual resting place of the fallen 
  hero. The tomb itself is concealed in the 
  lower part of the chamber. This discourages 
  would-be thieves, and insures that the 
  attention of any visitors is drawn to the 
  memorial, and not to the tomb. 
  The walls surrounding the chamber are 
  recessed, offering a balcony for visitors. The 
  balcony is level with the projection bier, or 
  slightly 
  above 
  it. 
  Several 
  score 
  family 
  members 
  could 
  congregate 
  here, 
  when 
  honoring the hero on their name day 
  anniversary. However, only those closest to 
  the deceased ever approach the projection 
  bier, a place of honor, to pray or seek 
  guidance from their honored kin. 
   
  Oddly, the day Dorlun was laid to rest, I did 
  not find Axe Barr with the procession, which 
  all able dwarves were expected to attend.  I 
  asked one of his family where he was, and 
  they guided me to one of the other viewing 
  chambers.  This one was close to Dorlun’s 
  Tomb, yet far enough away to escape the 
  throng.  The halls were deserted in this area, 
  yet I found Barr easy enough.  As I crept 
  through 
  the 
  short 
  hall 
  connecting 
  the 
  chamber to the hub, I became very aware of 
  my surroundings, and the presence of the 
  place.  Not wanting to disturb my companion, 
  I advanced only as far as needed, to peer 
  over the viewing balcony.  To my surprise, 
  Axe Barr kneeled before a grand sarcophagus 
  of gold, on the plank.  Realizing the meaning, 
  I left him to his silent prayers, and to this 
  day have not asked him about the encounter. 
   
  !
  !
   
  
   
  !
  !
   
  Part III 
  By Scott Kujawa 
  !
  First Reader, here is the third scroll of the project that you asked me to scribe for the records of 
  Candlekeep. 
   
  This is the next set of ten laborers. As I said in my other scrolls, some of this lore might or might 
  not be true, and I had to distill the details, lest they fill a whole tome. Besides, some of the 
  information given to me was to be kept secret, and I gave my word as a follower of the Binder. As 
  usual, I’m tracking down other folk who are willing to let me record what they do to make coin 
  and survive. 
   
  Scribe Lythrina Surstyn of Candlekeep 
   
  +!+!+!+!
   
  Trelrene (Chaotic Good, Female Chondathan 
  Human, Expert 2/Bard 3, Milil) 
   
  Trelrene lives in central Silverymoon, west of 
  the Market. She crafts flutes, birdpipes, 
  thelarr, and other wind instruments in her 
  modest one-story home. However, I found 
  her playing a songhorn in the Blooming Vine 
  Hall, and once she took a break she told me 
  that she spends most of her evenings 
  performing there for the coin, the enjoyment 
  of the good fare, and because she enjoys the 
  interest of the patrons.  
   
  I suspect she has ties to Those Who Harp, 
  but she only impishly smiled at me when I 
  asked. Of course, from what I later learned 
  about this dark-haired and dark-skinned 
  woman, she often smiles impishly at those 
  who amuse her.  
   
  Trelrene likes to wear tight green and gray 
  leathers. I believe she also has a fixation 
  with butterflies. I couldn’t see them clearly, 
  but her arms appeared to be covered with 
  tattoos of butterflies. The tattoos stop at her 
  wrists, and she keeps her arms covered, so I 
  couldn’t confirm if her arms are so marked. 
   
   
  Belmuth 
  (Neutral 
  Good, 
  Male 
  Centaur, 
  Skerrit) 
   
  I was walking through the Shaar when 
  something reared up over me and struck me 
  in the head. When I awoke, I found I had 
  been captured by a centaur named Belmuth. 
  He is the horse gatherer for the Raging 
  Hooves tribe of centaurs, one of many such 
  tribes that wander the Shaar. Belmuth 
  gathers wild horses, breeding them with the 
  tribe’s 
  domestic 
  herd. 
  He 
  trades 
  their 
  offspring to outsiders for the supplies that 
  the tribe needs.  
   
  He told me that he mostly trades for wood 
  that can be made into arrows, bows, and 
  clubs. However, at times he also asks for 
  necklaces, bracelets, combs, leather and furs 
  for armor and clothing, and anything else 
  that the members of the Raging Hooves tribe 
  might want or need. 
   
    
  Ammlus Cethalos (Lawful Neutral, Male 
  Netherese Human, Wizard 12, Azuth, Mystra, 
  Oghma, and Deneir) 
   
  For once, I’m going to talk about someone 
  within our hallowed halls, since Ammlus 
  finally agreed to answer my questions. This 
  sage and lorekeeper has been at Candlekeep 
  
   
   
  for as long as any of us can remember. I 
  believe that he is even older then what the 
  tales say about him, but he only crinkled his 
  lips in a smile and winked at me each time I 
  tried to get the information out of him.  
   
  My mentor’s skinny frame is covered by 
  faded brown robes that have been patched 
  with even more faded brown patches. A thick 
  white beard reaches to his chest, and his 
  dark blue eyes are still sharp and clear after 
  all these years.  
   
  In recent years, Ammlus has never seen 
  without his unusual segmented staff. Once he 
  told me that it is the Staff of the Three. He 
  would say no more about it, except that it is 
  a secret between him and Azuth. 
   
  First Reader’s note: This staff is a fairly 
  recent creation of Alluin, a mage loyal to 
  Azuth. Alluin, whose last name is unknown or 
  deliberately 
  suppressed, 
  is 
  extremely 
  knowledgeable in all practices of magic. 
  Unlike most arcane spellcasters, Alluin also 
  studied divinely granted magic. He traveled 
  across Faerûn, learning more of Azuth and 
  those 
  who 
  served 
  him 
  (Savras 
  and 
  Velsharoon, in particular).  
   
  It was in Amn that Alluin created the first 
  segment of the Staff, imbuing it with a 
  blessing from Savras. The Staff was designed 
  not to function until all three segments were 
  joined. Until then, it would give off no 
  magical aura, to dissuade any would-be 
  attackers. 
   
  During his travels in Thay, Alluin garnered 
  the knowledge he needed of Velsharoon, and 
  manufactured the second part of the Staff. 
  Some of the Red Wizards learned what Alluin 
  was planning, and attempted to take by force 
  the parts of the Staff already made. After a 
  heated spell battle, Alluin cast a rushed 
  teleportation 
  spell. 
  The 
  spell 
  misfired, 
  sending him to the wrong location. 
   
  It took him two tendays to reach the town of 
  Shadowdale. There Alluin sought Elminster’s 
  supervision, knowing the Old Mage was 
  knowledgeable in the ways of Mystra and 
  Azuth. With Elminster’s guidance, Alluin was 
  able to create the final section of the Staff. 
  The segments of the Staff of the Three are 
  each made from different types of wood. The 
  lowermost section, dedicated to Azuth, is a 
  dark oak, with blue inlays following the 
  wood’s 
  grain. 
  The 
  middle 
  segment, 
  Velsharoon’s 
  part, 
  was 
  crafted 
  from 
  birchwood, and is shaped like a large femur. 
  The uppermost section of the Staff, including 
  the head, is comprised of willow. A spiraling 
  pattern is set in this part of the Staff, which 
  is dedicated to Savras.  
   
  The Staff is capped with a large, flat triangle. 
  The triangle is not a separate piece; it is a 
  contiguous part of the willow section of the 
  Staff. Symbols of the three deities to which 
  the Staff is dedicated appear on the front of 
  the triangle. The upward-pointing hand of 
  Azuth is the uppermost symbol. Velsharoon’s 
  grinning skull marks the right point of the 
  triangle. 
  Savras’s 
  crystal 
  ball, 
  with 
  its 
  enclosed dancing eyes, decorates the left 
  side of the triangle.  
   
  The points of the symbols on the Staff are 
  also a scale representation of the distances 
  between where the three parts were formed. 
  The center of Savras’s orb represents Amn. 
  The tip of Velsharoon’s crown represents 
  Tyraturos, and the tip of Azuth’s finger 
  represents Shadowdale. 
   
  The Staff’s appearance and powers can be 
  altered by the wielder. By twisting the 
  segments of the Staff in a certain manner, 
  and touching one of the symbols on the 
  triangle, that deity’s part of the Staff 
  becomes dominant. The Staff itself is not 
  physically altered, but its magic makes the 
  dominant part of the Staff appear more 
  prominent than the other sections. The 
  deity’s 
  symbol 
  also 
  becomes 
  more 
  noticeable. When Azuth’s section of the Staff 
  is dominant, sparks seem to emanate from 
  the finger of his symbol. The prominence of 
  Velsharoon’s segment is indicated by the 
  flaring 
  of 
  the 
  skull’s 
  eyes. 
  Savras’s 
  prominence is marked by the eyes of the 
  crystal ball seeming to sparkle. 
   
  In Azuth’s form, the Staff’s wielder has 
  access to the strongest spells stored in it. 
  These spells are Greater Dispel Magic, Spell 
  Turning, and Break Enchantment. This form 
  also has a Disjunction available to it, but this 
  
   
  will totally drain the magic of the Staff, 
  leaving it nothing more than three individual 
  wooden rods. In Savras’s form, the Staff can 
  cast Zone of Truth and Arcane Sight. When 
  Velsharoon’s segment is prominent, the 
  spells Halt Undead and False Life are 
  available. 
   
  In all forms, the Staff is a +2 spell storing 
  axiomatic quarterstaff. As a special ability, it 
  can 
  counterspell 
  when 
  readied 
  by 
  the 
  wielder, who must make a Spellcraft check. If 
  he beats the spell save DC by 10, the Staff 
  absorbs the spell as if it was cast into it via 
  the spell storing ability.
   
   
  Xmerador Wyrund (Lawful Good, Male 
  Chondathan Human, Expert 4, Silvanus) and 
  Pheldathe Wyrund (Lawful Neutral, Female 
  Illuskan Human, Expert 4, Chauntea and 
  Silvanus) 
   
  This husband and wife are a part of a team of 
  ten woodcutters hired by the Crown of 
  Cormyr to watch over the King’s Forest. They 
  make sure that only dead growth is cut, and 
  only with permission from the Crown. Ever 
  since orcs invaded the Forest, it has also 
  been their duty to kill any orcs they can 
  without risking themselves. 
   
  Xmerador has close-cropped dark blond hair, 
  and a short beard a shade lighter in color. His 
  brown eyes are set deep in his face, and his 
  face is dominated by his large, protruding 
  nose. However, no one would dare comment 
  on it, because his body is thick with muscles 
  and strength - I watched him cut a tree in 
  half with two swings of the large axe that he 
  carries! 
   
  His wife, on the other hand, is small and 
  petite. She keeps her long, light red hair 
  braided into a tail, and the stray pieces are 
  pinned in place with combs. Each time she 
  looks at her Xmer, her gray eyes fill with 
  love, and a radiant smile fills her face. Like 
  her husband, she dresses in browns and 
  greens, but hers are a little lighter in hue. 
  Because of her smaller stature, she wields a 
  smaller axe than her husband. From what 
  Xemrador proudly told me, no one should 
  believe that Pheldathe couldn’t cut them 
  down if they angered her,  because she isn’t 
  weak. 
  The two woodcutters are loyal to the Crown, 
  and have pledged themselves to the Steel 
  Regent and to her nephew the King. 
   
  Elvaeryl (Neutral Good, Female Half-moon 
  Elf, Cleric 2/Expert 2, Sune) and Lharyth 
  (True Neutral, Female Chondathan Human, 
  Commoner 1, Sune) 
   
  Elvaeryl sells perfumes at a small booth in 
  Athkatla’s market. This half-moon elf has 
  shoulder-length silver and blue hair, and pale 
  white skin with blue highlights. She brings 
  her daughter with her to the marketplace, 
  allowing Lharyth to sell scented soaps.  
   
  Lharyth, who has short blue hair and light 
  brown skin, makes the scented soaps herself. 
  Their 
  fragrance 
  comes 
  from 
  perfumes 
  Elvaeryl makes for her daughter’s use. 
   
  Every time I’ve seen them, they have been 
  dressed in the pinks of Sune’s faithful. I 
  haven’t seen them use any divine magics, 
  and so I believe they are lay worshippers of 
  the Princess of Passion. However, I have 
  heard that another merchant saw Elvaeryl 
  instructing Lharyth, and that the two of them 
  smiled at each other as a bottle of perfume 
  and some soap glowed with a soft pale pink 
  radiance, which quickly faded.  So, First 
  Reader, these two hold their secrets close, 
  and I haven’t learned what they are hiding. 
   
   
  Perann Mhenther (Neutral Evil, Male Rock 
  Gnome, Illusionist 8, Shar) 
   
  I searched for this gnome in Westgate, 
  because I’ve heard tales about him and his 
  three-story shop, where he sells herbs and 
  spell components for users of the Art. 
  However, this is not what piqued my 
  curiosity. What caught my interest was the 
  gossip that he knows a way to cast magic 
  that doesn’t come from Lady Mystra, but 
  from some other power instead. All he would 
  tell me is that it involves darkness and 
  shadows, so I assume it has something to do 
  with Shar. I don’t know if he is a user of this 
  other source of magic, but the illusion that he 
  cast for me seemed more real then any other 
  illusion I’ve ever seen. 
   
   
  
   
   
  Elulanthe (Chaotic Good, Female Wood Elf, 
  Expert 6, Solonor, Rillifane, Silvanus, and 
  Mielikki) 
   
  Elulanthe lives in a cottage on the outskirts 
  of Shadowdale, where she trains hunting and 
  domestic dogs. As I looked for a puppy for a 
  child of Shadowdale, I made notes about this 
  wood 
  elf’s 
  appearance 
  and 
  whatever 
  questions she was willing to answer.  
   
  Her cotton clothing, which is mostly green in 
  color, is covered with prayers to Solonor and 
  Rillifane, as well as to Silvanus and Mielikki. 
  Her thick brown hair is kept away from her 
  face by leather bands, which are woven 
  throughout her hair. She has brown eyes that 
  are deep-set for an elf, with a bite scar under 
  her left eye. 
   
  Arress bint Sedinyra (Female Zakharan 
  Human, Expert 12) 
   
  This poison-maker’s fame is wide-spread. 
  She is well-known in some parts of Faerûn, 
  and her goods can be found in Faerûn’s and 
  Zakhara’s unsavory cities. The first three 
  floors of Arress’s four-story home in Hawa, 
  the City of Chaos, have been set aside for 
  her work, and the smell of brewing poisons 
  fills those floors. Her living quarters on the 
  upper floor are filled with items from all over 
  Toril. How she manages to acquire all these 
  items, I know not, nor do I know how she 
  transports her poisons to the other lands.  
   
  Arress is a small, slim woman, with a dark 
  brown hair shot through with red streaks. I 
  think she gets her brown-green eyes from 
  the poisons she has imbibed, because I’ve 
  never heard, or seen, anyone with eyes like 
  that. Even her skin is a strange mixture of 
  brown and yellow, with hints of red. Most of 
  the time she wears white silk clothing, but 
  I’ve seen her in light brown clothing that 
  matches the sands of Zakhara. 
  Maztli (Male Maztican Human, Commoner 4, 
  Maztica) 
   
  As I was traveling through Amn, I tasted a 
  brew that contained some of the cocoa that 
  Aurora has started to sell from fabled 
  Maztica. I wanted to know more about this 
  strange import from that land, so I found a 
  ship and made the voyage to Maztica.  
   
  After 
  asking 
  for 
  information 
  in 
  New 
  Waterdeep, I headed inland and met Maztli. 
  As we sat inside his small hut and looked 
  over his field of cocoa plants, he served me 
  more of the drink that I had in Amn. I asked 
  him about this plant and about this land, 
  since I needed to learn more about Maztica, 
  having written about the natives in my other 
  scrolls. Much like the other Nexalans, he has 
  bronze skin and dark hair that he keeps cut 
  close to his skull. The next time I come to 
  Maztica, I plan on wearing some of the 
  woven skirts that he gave me, since they are 
  more comfortable in this hot environment. 
   
     
    
  Katsiko (Male Fox Hengeyokai, Expert 12, 
  Celestial Bureaucracy) 
   
  I met this strange being as I walked the 
  Golden Way, making my way back to Faerûn. 
  He lives in a round hut that contains a pallet, 
  the smithing tools of his craft, and many 
  swords that all had the same curved blade. 
  When I asked him what they were called, he 
  said they are called “katanas”. Though many 
  swordsmiths in Kara-Tur make these blades, 
  Katsiko insists that he is only one of a 
  handful that can make them strong enough 
  to be enchanted. 
   
   
   
   
   
  
   
  !
  !
  Portia Coldspring 
  By Jaap-Peter Hazelhoff & Carey Sauerbrun 
  (Illustrated by Tiziano Baracchi) 
  !
   
  Portia Coldspring1 (Female Human Cleric of 
  Kelemvor 3 / Fighter 1; AL LN; Location: 
  Berdusk, Western Heartlands) 
   
  Appearance: 
   
  slim 
  young 
  woman 
  of 
  average height. Her long, 
  reddish-gold hair is wildly 
  curly; she does her best to 
  tame by keeping it bound in 
  a thick, elaborate braid. Her 
  eyes are a striking green. 
  Often on far-ranging missions on behalf of 
  the Crystal Mansion temple of the Lord of the 
  Dead in Berdusk, she wears enchanted 
  banded mail armor beneath her black and 
  bone 
  white 
  clerical 
  vestments. 
  Hanging 
  prominently around her neck is a bone white, 
  highly-polished wooden disk, with Kelemvor’s 
  symbol inlayed in gold on its surface.  
   
  To battle the foes of her church and to 
  defend herself, she wields a hand-and-a-half 
  sword, which rests in a scabbard on her back 
  when not needed. The cleric is able to wield 
  the weapon both one- and two-handed; to 
  supplement her defenses when wielding the 
  weapon 
  one-handed, 
  she 
  carries 
  an 
  extremely well-crafted large wooden shield. 
   
  An enchanted light mace, its gleaming head 
  carved to resemble a skull, dangles from her 
  belt, serving as a secondary weapon. Death’s 
  Head – the magical weapon’s name – came 
  into her care after the previous owner, a 
  fellow cleric, fell while fighting Cult of the 
  Dragon agents in Berdusk. 
   
   
                                                   
  1 Portia Coldspring is the creation of Carey Sauerbrun for 
  the Twilight Dawn Play by Email game. 
  Personality: 
   
  Portia is a person that truly cares for others, 
  helping them live life and, if need be, pass 
  into death as gently as possible. In the Year 
  of the Unstrung Harp (1371 DR) she 
  experienced a darker side of human nature, 
  which has since dampened her previously 
  cheerful mood. While not entirely gone, it is 
  muted, resulting from events that transpired 
  in Eleint of that year. 
   
  When faced with undead, her eyes blaze with 
  an emerald fire, and her wrath is obvious to 
  all. Because of her recent experiences, her 
  hatred of the undead has grown to include 
  those that traffic with the undead, or anyone 
  having anything to do with the sect of 
  Velsharoon. Another effect of her troubling 
  experiences is her tendency to wear more 
  and more armor, in an unconscious effort to 
  protect herself mentally from the evils of the 
  world by doing all she can to protect herself 
  physically. 
   
  Portia will do her best to heal those good 
  individuals dying of wounds inflicted in 
  combat, for Kelemvor teaches that each 
  should take the Great Trip naturally, when 
  their time in this world has come to an end. 
  She does not consider a sword through the 
  belly to be a ‘natural’ death – this view, 
  however, does not extend to those that 
  corrupt life and death. 
   
  Portia’s short-term goal is to qualify to join 
  the 
  Doomguides, 
  an 
  elite 
  group 
  of 
  Kelemvorites, whose mission includes halting 
  the spread of necromancy by cleansing 
  Faerûn of the taint of unlife. 
   
   
   
   
  
   
   
  Background: 
   
  Portia was born in Baldur’s Gate. She only 
  vaguely remembers her parents; they both 
  died of a wasting illness when she was only 
  three years old. Jared, a young priest of 
  Kelemvor, 
  performed 
  last 
  rites 
  for 
  the 
  departed.  When he learned that the girl had 
  no other family in the area to take her in, he 
  offered to place her in a local abbey 
  dedicated to his god. 
   
  With little formality on the part of the officials 
  in the Gate – the practice was almost a 
  routine – Jared’s request was granted, and 
  Portia entered the Abbey of the 
  Fallen, less than a day’s walk from 
  the city. 
   
  At first, the girl was too young 
  to participate in the routine 
  activities of the Abbey. She, 
  along 
  with 
  a 
  few 
  other 
  unfortunate 
  children, 
  was 
  placed in the care of a 
  young 
  priestess 
  named 
  Giselle. Giselle came to 
  care 
  greatly 
  for 
  her 
  charges, and did her best 
  to raise them to be solid, 
  upright citizens, as well as 
  devout 
  followers 
  of 
  the 
  Lord of the Dead.  
   
  Eventually, 
  Portia 
  was 
  deemed old enough to aid in 
  the functioning of the Abbey, 
  running 
  errands 
  for 
  the 
  Abbess and the other priests, 
  and 
  helping 
  out 
  in 
  the 
  kitchens, 
  the 
  gardens 
  and, 
  when a bit older, the infirmary. Watching 
  Kelemvor’s priests succor the ill and dying, 
  Portia came to believe truly in the faith of the 
  Master of the Crystal Spire. Death, after all, 
  is only the beginning, and how a person lives 
  and dies will determine his place in the 
  afterlife. She watched many make that great 
  transition as the years passed. 
   
  Not all of the children that lived at the Abbey 
  of the Fallen shared Portia’s budding faith. 
  One, 
  Koris, 
  suffered 
  through 
  perpetual 
  lectures on the greatness of the God of the 
  Dead, until, at the age of fifteen, he went 
  over the wall and was never seen at the 
  Abbey again. Portia truly liked the boy, but 
  his stubborn refusal to come into the faith 
  disturbed her. She missed him when he was 
  gone. 
   
  Another, though, was not missed at all. Reff 
  was another of her peer group, a young man 
  with 
  cold 
  eyes. 
  He 
  listened 
  with 
  an 
  expressionless face while Giselle instructed 
  them in the faith. When the young cleric left 
  them alone, he became a malicious bully. He 
  never did anything overtly cruel, though he 
  was 
  frequently 
  about 
  when 
  ’accidents’ 
  happened. 
  Portia 
  still 
  harbors 
  a 
  mild 
  resentment for having been ’accidentally’ 
  dumped into an ice-rimmed creek near the 
  Abbey one cold winter day. Giselle thought 
  nothing of it, other than to bestow her 
  surname upon her, but Portia always 
  thought Reff looked a bit too innocent. He 
  had been near the end of the log, after all. 
   
  Things came to a head when Reff was caught 
  in the infirmary late one night. Portia, 
  worried for one of her patients, an older 
  woman about to make the 
  Great Journey, went to check 
  on her just before going to go 
  to bed. She found Reff working 
  on a man that must have 
  recently passed, surreptitiously 
  making small incisions and 
  removing 
  internal 
  organs. 
  Horrified, 
  Portia 
  ran 
  to 
  Giselle, almost sobbing 
  in anger and disgust. 
  The cleric caught the 
  young man, who sneered at 
  the woman’s indignation. 
  “Velsharoon 
  will 
  lay 
  Kelemvor low!” he proclaimed, before 
  running for the gates. Giselle tried to hold 
  him with a spell, but he was able to shrug it 
  off and escape from the Abbey. 
   
  The revelation that a boy that had spent 
  much of his life within the Abbey was a 
  Velsharoon worshipper caused turmoil that 
  did not fade for many tendays. In the purge 
  that followed, three other secret Velsharoon 
  worshippers were discovered and prosecuted. 
  Portia’s dislike and fear of the undead was 
  truly fanned into flame during this time. 
   
  
   
                                                  
  When Portia turned eighteen, she took her 
  vows. Giselle and Jared, who had also kept 
  an eye on his one-time charge, were both 
  there to witness, looking extremely proud. As 
  an acolyte, she passed the full introduction to 
  Kelemvor’s faith and served much of her time 
  in the infirmary, continuing her work there 
  and finding a niche for herself. 
   
  However, this was not meant to last; the 
  Abbey received news that a cleric of the god 
  of the undead had been stirring up trouble to 
  the east. The Abbey, one of the larger 
  strongholds of Kelemvor in the area, sent out 
  a number of groups to hunt the foul priest 
  down and put an end to his depredations. 
  Portia found herself girding on her armor for 
  more than practice for the first time in her 
  life.  
   
  Following the rumors, the groups fanned out. 
  Portia’s group consisted of three other 
  clerics, including Giselle and Finnius, another 
  of her childhood comrades. For a number of 
  rides, the small team hunted. Eventually, 
  they found some indication that they might 
  be on the right track. Giselle decided to send 
  Portia to the nearest temple in Berdusk, 
  much to the girl’s chagrin, to let them know 
  what they’d found.  
   
  Portia arrived in Berdusk two days later, and 
  went directly to the temple. High Priest 
  Sillisten, Death’s Hand of Kelemvor, heard 
  her news and immediately sent a group of a 
  dozen priests and warriors to aid Giselle. He 
  requested that Portia remain in Berdusk; 
  another task had come up and he imagined 
  that she would be well suited to act as 
  Kelemvor’s agent in the affair. 
   
  Portia was tasked to aid Matteo Ashgale, an 
  investigator with some good connections in 
  the town, in his efforts to uncover the reason 
  for some odd events that had been occurring 
  in Berdusk. The investigation led to the 
  discovery of a bold, yet very secretive cell of 
  the Cult of the Dragon. The exposure of the 
  Cult cell was successful, but not painless: 
  Portia was caught and tortured by the cult 
  members. 
   
  The cultists over-reached when they captured 
  the young cleric, discounting the abilities and 
  persistence of her recently-met friends. The 
  culminating battle almost destroyed the 
  warehouse the Cult used as a front. Several 
  undead guardians were laid to rest, but only 
  a 
  few 
  underlings 
  were 
  arrested. 
  The 
  operations of the cell within Berdusk were 
  severely disrupted. 
   
   
  Statistics: 
   
  Portia Coldspring                               CR 4  
  Female Human Cleric of Kelemvor 3 / Fighter 
  1; AL LN; Location: Be 
  rdusk, 
  Western 
  Heartlands 
   
  Stats: (based on 32 point-buy) HP: 24; Init 
  +2; Speed 20ft; AC 21; BAB +3; Fort +8, 
  Ref +4, Will +7; Str 13, Dex 14, Con 10, Int 
  12, Wis 16, Cha 14. Height 5’4”, weight 
  108lbs. Age 22. Languages: Chondathan, Orc 
    
  Skills & Feats: Climb +2, Concentration +1, 
  Diplomacy +5, Handle Animal +3, Heal +7, 
  Jump 
  +2, 
  Knowledge 
  (Religion) 
  +7, 
  Knowledge 
  (the 
  Planes) 
  +3, 
  Profession 
  (Apothecary) +5, Ride +3, Spellcraft +5, 
  Swim +3. Extra Turning, Scribe Scroll, Great 
  Fortitude, Exotic Weapon (bastard sword)  
   
  Spells & Domains: 0-lvl: 4/day, 1st lvl: 
  3/day +1 domain spell, 2nd lvl 2/day +1 
  domain spell. Fate Domain (Uncanny Dodge), 
  Protection 
  Domain 
  (Generate 
  Protective 
  Ward) 
   
  Equipment: Banded Mail +1, Light Mace +1 
  Death’s Head, Death’s Shroud Ring, Wand of 
  Cure Light Wounds (35 charges), Potion of 
  Lesser Restoration 
   
  Special Item Descriptions: 
   
  Death's Head2: Light Mace +1. The obsidian 
  haft features black leather wrapped around 
  it, providing a good gripping surface. A metal 
  ball in the shape of a human skull is the 
  weapon’s business end. Despite its color, the 
  night-black skull shines brightly, a result of 
  the everbright process that its dwarven 
  creator used on it. 
   
   
  2 Death’s Head and its history were created by Jason 
  Breton for Tempest, a character in the Twilight Dawn 
  Play by Email game 
  
   
   
  History of Death’s Head: In 1368, 
  Errington Lucuis, a human cleric of 
  Kelemvor, believed he had a vision 
  from his lord to go out and convert 
  the remaining clerics of Myrkul and 
  Bhaal to his lord's worship. He felt 
  that this might require having to “beat 
  some sense” into the wayward clerics. 
  To accomplish this, he commissioned 
  Rendril, 
  a 
  dwarven 
  smith, 
  with 
  crafting the dark mace. The dwarf 
  toiled over the mace for over a 
  month, constructing first the hilt and 
  then the head. Using a secret process 
  of his clan, he forged the obsidian 
  mace handle, as well, and carefully 
  carved the outline of eye and nose 
  sockets and teeth in the head of the 
  mace. 
   
  Impressed by the look of his new 
  weapon, Errington, to his misfortune, 
  tried to convert a cell of Myrkulites in 
  the slums of Neverwinter. The temple 
  of Kelemvor found his mutilated body 
  in a trash-dump a week later, without 
  the mace. 
   
  The next time the mace surfaced, it 
  was in Undermountain, in the hands 
  of "Whiskers" McGee, a gnomish thief. 
  He met his demise at the hands of a 
  mind flayer, serving as a meal for the 
  evil creature. 
   
  The illithid took the mace to Skullport, 
  trading it for two slaves on Skull 
  Island. The mace was lost during a 
  bar brawl and resurfaced sometime 
  later in a Waterdhavian curio shop, 
  where it was bought by Trillian, a 
  cleric of Ilmater. He felt drawn to the 
  item and purchased it. It was not until 
  he met Tempest – a half-orc cleric of 
  Kelemvor - that he knew why he 
  bought the mace. When Tempest’s 
  travels took him to Berdusk, Trillian 
  gave the mace as a present so that he 
  might do good things for Faerûn. 
   
  Death’s Shroud Ring: This bronze ring is 
  sometimes bestowed on promising priests of 
  Kelemvor as part of their initiation. It confers 
  a +1 luck bonus to all saving throws. 
   
  Faint evocation; CL 5th; Forge ring, divine 
  favor; Price 2,000 gp. 
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
  
   
  !
  !
  Collection V 
  By Chris Jameson!(Adventures I – VI)!!
  & Scott Kujawa (Adventure VII - XII) 
  (Illustrated by Julius Petilla)!
  !
  Being a collection of adventure hooks and starting tales for use in the Forgotten Realms 
   
  Adventure Hook!I!
   
  This hook can be used just about anywhere 
  where you can find both nobles and a forest 
  near enough for them to go hunting. 
   
  Jorlgan’s Rest is a weathered hunting lodge 
  that has stood for several generations. The 
  sturdy lodge is fashioned of stone, with rough 
  wooden planks for a floor. The lodge is 
  decorated with hunting icons: animal-skin 
  rugs adorn nearly every floor, and animal 
  heads 
  look 
  down 
  from 
  most 
  walls. 
  A 
  chandelier in the main lounge is fashioned 
  entirely of deer antlers. 
    
  The 
  Rest 
  consists 
  of 
  several 
  smaller 
  bedchambers and one large lounge. The 
  kitchen used to be a separate building, but 
  was made a part of the main building some 
  twenty years ago. There is a large cellar; it 
  currently holds several bottles of wine, a keg 
  or two of ale, and a forgotten chest of used 
  winter gear. 
   
  The Rest stands alone in a clearing, with the 
  nearest trees some twenty feet away. A large 
  firepit lies to the east of the main building, 
  and an egg-shaped boulder rests about 
  halfway between the southern wall and the 
  surrounding forest. A unicorn’s head is 
  carved into the northern face of the boulder; 
  this worn symbol once marked the site as a 
  shrine of Mielikki.  
   
  One other feature is notable about the Rest: 
  at some time in the past, its walls were 
  enchanted by a mage. The temperature 
  inside the Rest is always comfortable, no 
  matter the outside weather, and no flame 
  larger than a candle can burn anywhere 
  other than the kitchen or fireplaces. 
   
  Jorlgan’s Rest is owned by the Ventranon 
  family, and has been since shortly after the 
  death of its builder, Jorlgan Longtooth. They 
  have hosted countless hunting trips at the 
  Rest, and until recently, it was a popular 
  retreat for younger members of the family. 
   
  Things changed with the last hunting trip to 
  Jorlgan’s Rest. Norreth Ventranon and his 
  companions 
  discovered 
  that 
  a 
  powerful 
  follower of Malar had settled into the area. A 
  short, wiry man, Hendil Blackpaw used 
  cunning traps and fearsome animal allies to 
  hunt 
  down 
  and 
  slay 
  the 
  members 
  of 
  Norreth’s hunting party. Bellar Dalros was 
  the sole survivor of the expedition, escaping 
  only because he stumbled through a portal in 
  his frantic flight. 
   
  Amdil Ventranon hires the PCs to hunt down 
  and slay the Malarite. He also wants his son’s 
  body retrieved, along with the bodies of his 
  companions. 
   
   
  Adventure Hook II!
   
  St. Talaeril the Gentle lived some 200 years 
  ago in Impiltur. A former mage, he had 
  entered Ilmater’s service after becoming 
  repulsed by the suffering he saw caused by 
  magic. He spent several years traveling 
  through Impiltur, using both arcane and 
  divine magic to ease the suffering he found. 
   
  During what would become his final trek 
  through Impiltur’s interior, he discovered the 
  
   
   
  ruins of a small village. The mage-turned-
  priest had visited the village before, finding it 
  to be a quiet and peaceful hamlet. Now the 
  village 
  was 
  destroyed, 
  and 
  its 
  people 
  slaughtered – apparently at the hands of a 
  fiend. 
    
  Talaeril 
  spent 
  weeks 
  tracking 
  the 
  evil 
  creature. No one knows what happened when 
  Talaeril found the foul abomination, but the 
  ballad “The Last Stand of the Gentle Mage” 
  tells of a battle that lasted for three days. It 
  is said that Talaeril and the fiend slew each 
  other in that battle, for neither was seen 
  again. 
   
  The PCs are contacted by Palir of Damara, an 
  Ilmatari priest. Palir has heard of a cave near 
  the Earthfast Mountains, a cave where a 
  human skeleton bearing an Ilmatari holy 
  symbol lies entangled with the bones of some 
  fell creature. Palir hires the PCs to recover 
  the human skeleton, which he believes to be 
  the remains of St. Talaeril the Gentle. 
    
  The quest can be as easy or as difficult as the 
  DM likes. The real adventure begins about a 
  month after the PCs deliver the remains to 
  Palir. The once-genial priest is accused of 
  committing several heinous murders, before 
  disappearing into the wilderness with the 
  remains of St. Talaeril. Is Palir of Damara a 
  murderer, a victim, or a hero chasing after a 
  fiend that was not truly slain? 
   
   
  Adventure Hook!III!
   
  Bethen Calwyl has lost his armor. 
   
  Bethen comes from a moderately wealthy 
  family. Unlike many families, it was expected 
  that Bethen, the eldest son, would take to 
  the sword and become an adventurer. It is a 
  tradition dating back several generations to 
  the days of Vemmis Calwyl, a paladin of 
  Torm. 
   
  Vemmis possessed a magnificent set of full 
  plate armor. Already heavily enchanted when 
  he found it, Vemmis spent every coin he 
  could having the armor’s magic enhanced. By 
  the time Vemmis died of old age, his armor 
  had gained sentience, as well as many of the 
  powers and abilities of a helmed horror. 
  Every generation since Vemmis, the eldest 
  male has taken the armor and done great 
  deeds. Many valiant actions have been 
  undertaken by Calwyl men wearing the 
  armor, and on several occasions, the armor 
  itself has fought beside the Calwyl heir. 
   
  Bethen Calwyl, as expected, donned the 
  armor and set out seeking adventure. Unlike 
  his predecessors, however, Bethen found 
  that he lacked the courage to do great deeds. 
  He tried, but every time, his nerve failed him 
  and he fled from the danger. 
   
  Several days ago, while camping in the 
  wilderness a few days ride from Elversult, 
  Bethen followed his normal habit of leaving 
  the armor to stand watch while he slept. 
  When he awoke, however, the armor was 
  gone. Given the lack of footprints and the 
  things the armor said to him while he was 
  wearing it, Bethen believes the armor has set 
  off on its own, seeking evil to vanquish.  
   
  Bethen desparately wants to find the armor 
  and convince it of his worth, before it decides 
  to return to the Calwyl estate and tell of his 
  cowardice. He is willing to pay the PCs a 
  considerable amount to help him achieve 
  these goals. 
   
   
  Adventure Hook!IV!
   
  Algis Bluehand is a deep-cover Harper 
  working in Westgate. He arrived in the city 
  shortly after the apparent destruction of the 
  Night Masks at the hands of Alias of the 
  Azure Bonds and Dragonbait the Saurial. 
   
  When Orbakh awoke and seized control of 
  the Night Masks, Algis was one of the earliest 
  recruits. Algis maintained a low profile in the 
  reconstituted 
  group, 
  gathering 
  what 
  information he could and passing it on to his 
  masters in Twilight Hall.  
   
  Algis has come to suspect the true nature of 
  the Night Masters. During his investigations, 
  he managed to find Orbakh’s lair. In a daring 
  act of thievery, Algis stole three of Orbakh’s 
  spellbooks – including the one formerly 
  owned by Manshoon.  
   
  
   
  Algis has fled to a secret safehouse within 
  the city. A dead magic area shields him from 
  discovery by Orbakh and his agents, but the 
  Harper knows that his life is forfeit if he sets 
  foot outside his sanctuary. His superiors 
  know this, too. 
   
  The PCs are sent to Westgate, charged with 
  retrieving Algis and getting him safely out of 
  the city. It is imperative that Orbakh and his 
  Night 
  Masks 
  remain 
  ignorant 
  of 
  Algis 
  Bluehand’s escape. 
   
   
  Adventure Hook!V!
   
  Calielle Flamewind is a mage of moderate 
  skill and great investigative abilities. For the 
  last few years, she has been a common sight 
  in the streets and canals of Marsember, as 
  she hunts for the lost burial goods of the 
  half-elven Princess Sissra. 
   
  Under an abandoned warehouse, Calielle has 
  found a flooded vault. She was not able to 
  explore the vault, because a fearsome 
  automaton of unknown design stood guard in 
  the entry chamber. Calielle is curious about 
  both the automaton and the contents of the 
  vault. She hires the PCs to capture the 
  mysterious automaton, and to help her 
  explore the water-filled chambers of the 
  vault. 
   
   
  Adventure Hook!VI!
   
  Xalder is not like other beholders. 
   
  A renegade from the city of Ooltul, Xalder 
  prefers 
  a 
  quiet, 
  introspective 
  life. 
  Knowing his life would be short if 
  he stayed in the City of Tyrants, 
  Xalder fled into the Underdark 
  more than 20 years ago. He 
  wandered for many years, before 
  finding a reasonably intact library in 
  a ruined castle. 
   
  Xalder was mildly content with his 
  newfound library, but his 
  isolation made him lonely. 
  When 
  a 
  brash 
  young 
  nobleman, 
  Sandis 
  Kaldovein, 
  encountered the beholder, Xalder saw a new 
  future for himself. 
   
  Xalder first took the time to calm the young 
  nobleman. Speaking evenly to Sandis, Xalder 
  managed to convince the human of his 
  peaceful 
  intent. 
  After 
  several 
  days 
  of 
  dialogue, Xalder had won Sandis’s trust.  
   
  Sandis smuggled Xalder into his home. In the 
  years since then, Xalder has become a friend 
  and trusted advisor to Sandis. The beholder’s 
  expansive 
  knowledge 
  and 
  keen 
  understanding of human nature have served 
  Sandis well, enabling him to earn more 
  power and prestige for his family.  
   
  All of this is now threatened by the actions of 
  one thief. Erran Darkcloak, while burglarizing 
  the Kaldovein estate, discovered Sandis’s 
  monstrous advisor. He has threatened to 
  expose his knowledge to rivals of the 
  Kaldovein family.  
   
  Sandis is not the kind of man who will order 
  a murder to protect his family. He is also 
  unwilling to have his family’s coffers bled dry 
  to protect a secret. He hires the PCs to 
  investigate Erran, hoping some incriminating 
  information will be found, giving him a way 
  to ensure Erran’s silence. Failing that, he 
  wants Erran so thoroughly discredited that 
  anything the thief reveals would be ignored. 
   
  Adventure Hook!VII 
   
  For decades, rumors have been told 
  of a sirine dwelling near the coast of 
  Aglarond. To her misfortune, a star 
  elf named Sirelei has learned that 
  the rumors are true. She had 
  left the woods and was walking 
  along the shore when the sirine 
  captured her, dragging the star elf 
  into the water. Her moonhorse 
  returned to the star elven realm, 
  telling the elders about Sirelei’s 
  abduction. 
    
  After a debate over who would 
  be sent, a small party of star 
  elves has set forth to 
  rescue 
  Sirelei. 
  Their 
  passing 
  has 
  not 
  gone 
  
   
   
  unnoticed; rumors have swiftly spread about 
  the strange elves seen traveling through the 
  forest toward Aglarond’s western shore. 
  Adventure Hook!X 
  !
  The half-drow rulers of Dambrath have 
  sealed off a small part of their country. Little 
  is known about the incident, though there are 
  whispers that the Crinti uncovered a temple 
  of Ghaunadaur, the dark elven deity of oozes 
  and slimes. Inside, they found loathsome 
  experiments; someone had tried to merge 
  humanoids with slimes and oozes. 
  !
   
  Adventure Hook!VIII!
   
  Alymnoril, a half-elven peddler who travels 
  the Dales, has recently uncovered an elven 
  burial ground in Cormanthyr. He claims that 
  after confronting him, the elven guardians 
  chose to let him leave in peace. When he 
  woke the next dawn, he found that his 
  wagons were filled with ancient coins, of a 
  make he had never seen before. He also 
  discovered a chest that contained a jewel-
  encrusted goblet fashioned from wood and 
  silver. 
   
   
  Adventure Hook!XI!
   
  The merchant-lords of Sembia, ever eager to 
  make a profit, have once more turned their 
  attention 
  to 
  the 
  rich 
  woodlands 
  of 
  Cormanthyr. This has of course led to 
  increased 
  problems 
  with 
  the 
  elves, 
  and 
  many 
  woodcutters have fallen to 
  the arrows of the wood 
  elves.  
   
  Alymnoril 
  traveled 
  a 
  bit 
  further, before finally settling 
  in Elventree.  From there, 
  word has spread that the 
  bejeweled goblet, when filled 
  with any liquid, can heal wounds 
  and 
  limbs. 
  Alymnoril 
  wants 
  to 
  show 
  the 
  other elven nations this 
  strange 
  goblet, 
  and 
  so 
  he’s 
  looking 
  for 
  trustworthy 
  adventurers who are willing to 
  guard him. 
   
  Now Sembia is recruiting 
  mercenary companies and 
  other free agents, and it 
  appears that the elves and 
  Sembia are once more going 
  to 
  fight 
  for 
  Cormanthyr. 
  Cormyr and the Dales are 
  also involved, trying to get 
  Sembia to back down before 
  more 
  bloodshed 
  happens. 
  (Each nation could hire the 
  PCs to 
  be agents, and to get the 
  elven people and Sembia to come to an 
  agreement.) 
   
   
  Adventure Hook!IX!
   
  Recent tavern-talk in Amn has centered 
  around 
  two 
  Heartlands 
  temples, 
  one 
  dedicated to Bane and the other to Cyric. The 
  rumors say that these two temples have 
  declared war on each other. Attacks have 
  gone back and forth for the past tenday, and 
  both sides have lost followers. At the 
  moment, the Banites have managed to put 
  the followers of Cyric on the defensive. The 
  temple of the Prince of Lies is surrounded, 
  and it looks as if the Banites are going to 
  resume their attack within the next half a 
  tenday. 
       
   
  Adventure Hook!XII!
   
  Someone – or something – caused an 
  explosion in the new Thayan Enclave being 
  built between Waterdeep and Neverwinter. 
  The structure is still mostly intact, but from 
  the center of it, a geyser of flame shoots 
  hundreds of feet into the air. The walls 
  around the geyser have partially melted. The 
  Red Wizards and the slaves that were within 
  have turned into smoldering statues, still 
  standing where they died. 
   
  
   
  !
  Part II 
  By Tyson Howard 
   
  * * * * 
  !
  The Crew 
   
  n the chart room, a red-
  haired 
  woman 
  stood 
  hunched 
  over 
  expansive 
  maps of the Sea of Swords. 
  A sharp crack echoed from 
  overhead, causing her to 
  bolt upright. WHUMP! Her 
  head struck the beam supporting the deck 
  above, eliciting a string of curses against any 
  number of gods, all spoken in a low, husky 
  voice. The short, muscular man standing 
  across from her merely looked upwards. He 
  slowly moved his left hand to a filigreed 
  pistol marked with the symbols of Gond, 
  lying on the table next to a sextant.  
   
  "Elithia, I believe we may be needed above," 
  the man growled. "Shall we?"  
   
  The tall woman stooped and pulled a similar 
  looking weapon from her belt. She moved 
  toward the door, still cursing and rubbing her 
  head.   
     
  "Dugan, I swear, if this is Foran shooting 
  gulls off the rigging, I'll make him peel 
  onions for two weeks!" yelled Elithia as she 
  moved out the hatch and into the narrow 
  stairwell leading to the main deck. 
   
  Dugan followed the tall woman, grinning to 
  himself. It was a wicked half-grin; he often 
  wore it when his senses told him something 
  was wrong and he needed to fix it. Several 
  long strides later, Elithia forced the hatch to 
  the main deck aside and stretched to her full 
  height, nearly six and a half feet. Dugan 
  wondered, for the hundredth time, what in 
  Umberlee's name possessed the Illuskan 
  woman to take to the seas in cramped ships 
  when she couldn't even stand up straight 
  below decks. His musings were cut short as 
  another crack retorted across the deck, its 
  echo muffled slightly by the fog that had 
  rolled into Waterdeep earlier that evening. 
   
  "By the Bitch Queen's buttocks, what in the 
  Nine Hells is THAT?!" shouted Elithia, as she 
  launched herself onto the deck. 
   
  A massive creature resembling a humanoid 
  toad stood atop the forecastle.  The towering, 
  twelve foot tall monstrosity seemed to 
  emanate 
  a 
  sense 
  of 
  'wrongness' 
  that 
  permeated the still air.  Splotches of putrid 
  blue and red warts and boils covered its 
  bluish skin.  Its beady eyes scanned the deck 
  of 
  the 
  ship, 
  incongruously 
  moving 
  independent of each other as if searching for 
  something.  Its eyes narrowed towards the 
  quarterdeck as it sensed the approach of the 
  crew.  Crack! Elithia discharged her pistol at 
  the batrachian monstrosity as it leapt from 
  its perch and lumbered towards the third 
  mate. 
   
  "That, my darling, is one of Cyric's blasted 
  frogs. A slaad," grunted Dugan, as he in turn 
  fired his pistol in a flash of smoke and flame 
  at the creature quickly moving towards the 
  two officers. His bullet struck the creature in 
  the shoulder, but even as he moved to reload 
  his weapon he could see the wound pucker 
  and begin to heal. Three other marks in the 
  torso of the beast all seemed in similar 
  stages of regeneration.  
   
  "Incoming!"  
   
  Dugan and Elithia barely had the time to 
  duck before a sharp smell of ozone and a 
  flash of brilliant blue-white light arced across 
  the sky, striking the slaad square in the face. 
  Grinning like a follower of Lathander in 
  morning prayers, Macalray o' the Winds 
  watched his handiwork as the blackened and 
  charred face of the slaad slowly contorted, 
  puckering as it crossed its eyes to stare at its 
  burnt snout.  
  
   
   
  "Brrmmp" was its only response to the 
  mage's spell. 
     
  "Nice aim, Mac, but it ain't finished!" shouted 
  Dugan, as he hurriedly reloaded his pistol. 
   
  Just as the thing seemed to recover its 
  bearings and lurch again towards Dugan and 
  Elithia, a short figure in a large navy-blue 
  overcoat dropped down from above. In a 
  single smooth motion, Harlequin Earling 
  pulled two pistols from his belt and fired both 
  at the charging behemoth. The smoke and 
  flames shooting from the barrels of his 
  treasured 
  pistols 
  momentarily 
  hid 
  the 
  Captain's grin as his crew responded to this 
  interloper aboard HIS ship. The two bullets 
  whistled 
  through 
  the 
  air, 
  striking 
  the 
  monstrosity squarely in the chest. The slaad 
  lurched forward, stumbling drunkenly before 
  falling to the deck. Black blood oozed from its 
  wounds, almost invisible against the zalantar 
  planking. Slowly, the slaad's corpse melted 
  into a strange-looking sludge, leaving a vile 
  ichor on the main deck, only fifteen feet from 
  the Captain and his officers.
   
  "Well then, Dugan, how about grabbing a few 
  of the boys and scraping that mess off my 
  lovely deck, eh? I shouldn't want her lovely 
  lines marred by something quite as offensive 
  as one of the Dark Sun's minions. Oh, and 
  Elithia, please do finish charting our course. 
  We obviously need to leave soon or we may 
  have 
  more 
  unexpected 
  and 
  disgusting 
  visitors." 
   
  Dugan looked around the ship and pointed to 
  three crewmen reloading their muskets. Just 
  as quickly, he barked out a grunt to the men 
  and moved towards the eyesore of ichor and 
  gore on the otherwise flawlessly polished 
  main deck. Elithia sighed, stooping her head 
  as she disappeared below decks to plot the 
  quickest course to Calimshan. 
   
  "Mac, I do believe I'll need to clean these 
  pants," Captain Earling said rather blandly, 
  as he looked at the soot and slaad blood that 
  stained his white linen breeches.  
   
   The moon elf wizard merely smiled and 
  nodded as he watched Harlequin Earling 
  disappear below decks for a proper cleaning. 
  Mac's smile faded as he wondered who sent 
  the monstrosity. He knew that slaadi services 
  came at a healthy price. Just what was the 
  true worth of the package they were 
  carrying? 
   
   
  The 'Spray is crewed by 31 crewmen of 
  varying degrees of skill and accomplishment. 
  All are able seamen, capable of managing the 
  vast webs of canvas and rigging that rise 
  nearly one hundred and ten feet above the 
  decks of the ship. On matters pertaining to 
  shipboard life, Harlequin runs a disciplined 
  ship. Beyond those duties, he otherwise 
  mandates little from his crew. Harlequin has 
  gone a step further in ensuring crew loyalty 
  and morale: each run, the crew receives a 
  portion of the profits from the cargo shipped 
  aboard the 'Spray. Although the exact split of 
  profits is never constant, the crew realizes 
  that their financial well-being is tied directly 
  to their ability to deliver the shipments 
  contracted by the Captain.  
   
  In addition to compensating his crew in a 
  manner more commonly found amongst 
  privateers and pirates, Captain Earling has 
  taken to recruiting his long-term crew 
  members individually, rather than the typical 
  method employed by many sea captains. 
  Typically, after expressing an interest in 
  working aboard the Earling's Spray, a man or 
  woman is given a tryout period. If the new 
  crewmember fits in well with the rest of the 
  crew and appears to genuinely enjoy the 
  work assigned, Captain Earling will retain 
  them and allow them to receive the same 
  benefits as other, longer-term crewmembers. 
   
  Morale is generally high amongst the officers 
  and crew of the 'Spray. Occasionally, a 
  crewman or officer will leave to assume a 
  position of greater authority or responsibility 
  aboard another ship. Many return to the 
  'Spray, however, due to its greater pay rate.  
   
  Harlequin 
  Earling 
  has 
  recently 
  become 
  enamored with the use of smokepowder 
  weapons, to be used as deterrence to pirates 
  and other dangers present between the 
  safety of Waterdeep and the southern ports 
  of call. The Captain has equipped the armory 
  of the ship with enough muskets and pistols 
  to arm his crew and a dozen hireswords, if 
  necessary. The weapons locker also contains 
  
   
  enough smokepowder to last at least three 
  engagements, and is restocked whenever 
  possible from a temple of Gond or a 
  Lantanese merchant. Each veteran crewman 
  is experienced with the use of these new 
  smokepowder weapons, and new crewmen 
  are regularly trained in their use once the 
  Captain decides to retain them on a long-
  term basis. Although Harlequin has heard of 
  the bombards used by the Red Wizards of 
  Thay, he has realized that loading bombards 
  or similar weapons onto his ship would slow 
  the 'Spray's speed and make her a target for 
  pirates and others wishing to profit from his 
  shipping efforts. Therefore, the Captain relies 
  upon 
  the 
  tried 
  and 
  true 
  method 
  of 
  maintaining 
  adequate 
  fire 
  support, 
  and 
  employs a ship's wizard to handle matters 
  requiring firepower and raw, devastating 
  attacks. 
   
  Officers of the ship wear dark blue shirts, and 
  gray 
  breeches 
  supported 
  by 
  leather 
  suspenders. In colder climates, bulky gray 
  oilskin overcoats are worn to keep the men 
  and women in charge of the ship as warm 
  and dry as possible. In the southern, warmer 
  climes, the dress code relaxes considerably, 
  and the crewmen dress for comfort. 
   
  The First Mate, Dugan Eyresh (LN, human 
  male rogue3/fighter4), is a man of few 
  words. Of moderate height but muscular 
  build, 
  Dugan 
  is 
  the 
  quiet, 
  iron-fisted 
  counterpart to the gregarious and well-
  meaning Harlequin. He enforces the rigid 
  discipline found onboard, and is a fair but 
  stern taskmaster for the captain. Originally 
  hailing from the city of Baldur's Gate, Dugan 
  comes from mixed parentage, with Ffolk and 
  Illuskan 
  blood. 
  His 
  outlook 
  on 
  life 
  is 
  remarkably similar to many land-bound 
  dwarves, and Dugan revels in the hierarchy 
  and command found aboard ship. Generally 
  calm but forceful, Dugan only becomes 
  agitated when matters become chaotic or 
  haphazard. It is during these times that his 
  usually calm demeanor is replaced by the 
  steely resolve to impose his will over those 
  elements disrupting his ordered routine and 
  life.  
   
  The Second Mate, Doemket Jarvisonn (CG, 
  human male expert2/cleric4 of Valkur), is a 
  giant of a man with a wild, unkempt beard 
  and a braid of long blond hair. Hailing from 
  Luskan, Doemket's life revolves around the 
  sea. Recently ordained as a priest in the 
  church of Valkur, he is known for poorly but 
  enthusiastically singing bawdy ballads and 
  songs during the fiercest of storms. Most of 
  the crewmen believe he was assigned to 
  minister to Valkur's faithful aboard the ship 
  because no normal person could stand his 
  singing. When a crewman finds himself 
  injured, Doemket uses the powers of his faith 
  to ease their suffering and mend their 
  wounds. However, if a crewman is injured 
  due to stupidity or lack of skill, Doemket will 
  often subject that individual to a very lengthy 
  sermon before curing their wounds.  
   
  Elithia Ygrasson (N, human female fighter4) 
  serves as Third Mate aboard the 'Spray. 
  Elithia is a tall, wiry woman of average looks, 
  sharp eyes, and a sharp tongue for those 
  who offend her. Elithia has only been with 
  the 'Spray for two years, having previously 
  served aboard a Ruathym galley. She is still 
  slowly 
  learning 
  the 
  idiosyncrasies 
  and 
  nuances of the Earling's Spray. The third 
  mate has a knack for navigation, and is 
  responsible for charting the most efficient 
  course for the 'Spray. After a few notable 
  incidents, most of the crewmen know to 
  avoid 
  harassing 
  Elithia, 
  or 
  otherwise 
  engaging her in the typical friendly pranks 
  and banter found between officers and crew. 
  Somewhat of a sourpuss, Elithia is considered 
  by many to be too uptight, but an otherwise 
  superb third mate. Nonetheless, she has 
  warmed considerably since signing on with 
  Captain Earling, and both he and Dugan 
  predict that her icy demeanor will thaw, 
  given enough time with the rest of the crew. 
   
  Macalray o' the Winds (NG, moon elf 
  wizard8) is the Ship's Wizard, and has been 
  since the launching of the 'Spray. A student 
  of Harlequin's father, Macalray has chosen to 
  stay with Harlequin out of a sense of curiosity 
  and affinity for the young half-elf. "Mac", as 
  he is known amongst the crew, also wants to 
  study 
  the 
  oceans 
  and 
  wind 
  patterns 
  stretching along the Sword Coast and the 
  Shining Sea. A slight, frail-looking elf with 
  particularly pale skin and soft lavender eyes, 
  Mac instigates much of the tomfoolery and 
  pranks aboard the 'Spray, to the constant 
  annoyance of the First Mate, Dugan. A 
  
   
   
  spectacular 
  prank 
  once 
  spawned 
  a 
  particularly embarrassing brawl between the 
  two; it ended with Mac being stuffed into a 
  barrel so tightly he had to be sawed out, and 
  Dugan sporting bright pink hair for several 
  weeks. Since then, the two have reached an 
  understanding of sorts. Although not friends 
  in the truest sense of the word, the elf and 
  the human share a comfortable regard for 
  each other, a fact that leaves some crewmen 
  wondering exactly what occurred between 
  the two. 
   
  The typical crewman of the 'Spray has a one 
  or two class levels of fighter or rogue, and 
  hails from a wide variety of ports and lands. 
  One notable common factor with each 
  crewman, however, is the fact that all are 
  proficient with firearms produced by the 
  Lantanese and the clergy of Gond. These 
  weapons are put to good use, defending the 
  ship against the few pirates who are 
  somehow able to get within firing distance of 
  the ship, or against marauding sea creatures. 
  A rotating watch of four crewmen armed with 
  muskets patrols the ship at all times. During 
  their eight hour shifts, they guard against 
  pirates, sea creatures, and the occasional 
  wizard that drops into their midst, searching 
  for valuable magical items shipped by the 
  Captain. 
  !!
  !
  The Trade 
   
  The slender hull of the Earling's Spray 
  heaved up and down slightly as the ship cut 
  through the waves and crests of the Shining 
  Sea. The bright golden sun, standing high 
  over the southern arm of the Trackless Sea, 
  had long since burned through the fog of the 
  previous night. Its golden sheen reflected 
  bright white lights from the copper fastenings 
  and joiners spaced about the main deck of 
  the 'Spray. The Captain's sharply-pointed 
  Van-Dyke beard twitched in the buffets of air 
  that swirled across the deck. His soft gray 
  eyes scanned the wave caps and swells as 
  his ship raced across the surface of the ocean 
  towards its latest destination. "Yes," the 
  captain thought, "this is truly freedom." 
   
  In the crow's nest far above stood another 
  sailor, casting wary glances behind the ship. 
  Nestled amongst the miles of rigging and 
  hundreds of yards of stark white canvas, the 
  narrow perch offered a commanding view of 
  the surrounding sea. From this height, the 
  sharp-eyed lookout watched as the pirate 
  ship slowly disappeared from view. The 
  'Spray was at full sail, catching every last 
  gasp of wind blowing across the seas. No 
  mere pirate could match the 'Spray's speed, 
  as 
  yet 
  another 
  band 
  of 
  marauders 
  discovered.  
   
  Captain Earling made his way across the 
  quarterdeck and down an open hatch to the 
  hold below. He strode through the first hold, 
  passing barrels of ale and crates of iron, 
  copper, and other, more precious metals. 
  Once clear of the hold, the captain moved 
  towards 
  the 
  passageway 
  to 
  the 
  crew 
  quarters. He followed the passageway down 
  another stair to the galley, and approached a 
  series of casks stacked against the starboard 
  wall. Deftly moving to the side of the one 
  empty cask, the Captain knelt upon the 
  decking and pulled a ring of keys from his 
  coat. He carefully pulled up a knotted piece 
  of planking, revealing a slim leaden lockbox, 
  situated in the bracing of the ship. A turn of 
  the key elicited a barely audible click from 
  the 
  lock, 
  and 
  he 
  gingerly 
  raised 
  the 
  strongbox's heavy lid.  
   
  Resting within the confines of the safe was a 
  small, oblong object, draped in silk. Captain 
  Earling muttered a series of arcane phrases, 
  and dropped a chameleon skin from his hand 
  as he finished the incantation. A soft rosy 
  glow illuminated his right hand as he gingerly 
  reached 
  down 
  and 
  touched 
  the 
  silken 
  wrappings of this valuable cargo. As the glow 
  slowly leeched from his hand and dissipated 
  about the object, the chameleon skin laying 
  upon the floor faded from sight, its part in 
  the masking incantation finished. Harlequin 
  slowly closed the lid of the strongbox, moved 
  the cask back to its location, and made his 
  way to inspect the rest of the cargo he'd 
  been hired to deliver to waiting hands in 
  Calimshan. 
   
  Although the sheer volume and tonnage the 
  'Spray is capable of hauling puts most other 
  merchant ships to shame, the key to Captain 
  Earling's success has been the transport of 
  wealthy passengers and small, valuable 
  cargoes in record time. Chief amongst the 
  
   
  wealthy 
  passengers 
  are 
  explorers 
  and 
  adventurers needing transportation along the 
  Sword Coast and the Shining Sea.  
   
  The second source of income for Harlequin 
  Earling is the prompt transport of tea, coffee, 
  and rare spices from ports in the south to the 
  northern 
  reaches 
  of 
  the 
  Sword 
  Coast. 
  Although the runs made by Captain Earling 
  are unpredictable, it is not uncommon to see 
  him in the ports of Waterdeep, Baldur's Gate, 
  Calimport, Tashluta, Athkatla, Almraiven, or 
  Riatavin. For the right price, Captain Earling 
  has been known to traverse the dangerous 
  run to Maztica, but adamantly refuses any 
  offer to attempt to dock or even venture near 
  Evermeet.  
   
  Typically, when making a run south from the 
  Sword Coast, the 'Spray will carry cargoes of 
  metals, furs, wool, and ale, in addition to the 
  occasional mercenary company, for delivery 
  to ports along the northern edge of the 
  Shining Sea. While traversing the various 
  ports of call throughout the Shining Sea, 
  Captain Earling will carry finished items and 
  exotic foodstuffs from Calimshan, Tethyr, 
  Amn, and the Border Kingdoms to the 
  nations of Thindol and Tashalar. From these 
  ports, the 'Spray will gather cargoes of glass, 
  spices, tobacco, coffee, pearls, ivory, and 
  wines for swift transport to Waterdeep and 
  Baldur's Gate. Captain Earling rarely will dock 
  in Luskan, due to his dislike of the Arcane 
  Brotherhood and their puppet rulers of that 
  city. In the event that a merchant does pay a 
  high enough price for Harlequin to set sail to 
  that city, extra spellslingers and hireswords 
  are brought on board to complement his 
  crew's fighting abilities.  
   
   
  Adventure Hooks 
   
  Davis the Jack had just settled into his chair 
  with some mulled cider deftly knicked from 
  the barmaid gliding through Sharky's Tavern. 
  His companions, two men and two women, 
  sipped 
  an 
  assortment 
  of 
  fermented 
  beverages, warming themselves from the 
  chill of the evening. They had gold to spend 
  from their recent escapades, and were 
  eagerly awaiting the cook's specialty: roast 
  boar glazed with honey and cinnamon. 
  Stomachs grumbling in eagerness, the small 
  group laughed and jabbed at each other's 
  gaffs and successes with good-natured cheer, 
  in part brought on from alcohol, and in part 
  from their most recent haul. It seemed only 
  Davis noticed the two men moving towards 
  their table with fluid gaits and serious faces. 
   
  The taller human was only a bit shy of six 
  feet tall and had a tough, hardened look 
  about him. He wore a simple pair of gray 
  breeches held up by leather suspenders and 
  a blue woolen shirt. A cutlass hung from a 
  baldric 
  on 
  his 
  right, 
  and 
  one 
  of 
  the 
  newfangled gnomish pistols rested on his left 
  hip, with his palm gently cupping its stock. 
  The man's face betrayed the lines and 
  tanning of a life at sea, but the deep-set eyes 
  betrayed a sense of power and conviction 
  that marked him as someone not unfamiliar 
  with being tested by vagabonds and ne'er-
  do-wells. 
   
  The other man, a shorter half-elf, appeared 
  the exact opposite of the "Tough," as Davis 
  mentally referenced the human. He wore a 
  set of crisp white breeches, tucked into 
  polished black highboots, while an elegant 
  rapier hung from the red sash tied tightly 
  against the man's midriff. His form was 
  bulked by a large blue overcoat, with golden 
  brocades across the breast and along the 
  lapels, while a stark white linen shirt puffed 
  out from the brass buttons just below the 
  half-elf's neck. Oddly, the half-elf sported a 
  neatly trimmed red beard that covered his 
  upper lip and fell to a point nearly an inch 
  beneath his chin. His darker hair was tied 
  back with a red ribbon, and gray eyes 
  sparkled in an arrogant but merry sort of 
  manner. 
   
  Davis the Jack knew the men from reputation 
  around the docks. Captain Harlequin Earling 
  and his mate, Dugan Eyresh, were known to 
  hire adventurers when a shipment required 
  extra muscle. "Well," he thought, "looks as 
  though we'll be taking another job sooner 
  than expected." 
   
  The Earling's Spray can be used in any 
  campaign that touches upon the Sword 
  Coast, the Lands of Intrigue, or other nations 
  surrounding the Shining Sea. As the fastest 
  merchant ship available in most ports, the 
  'Spray is particularly useful to adventurers 
  
   
   
  needing swift passage to one or more ports 
  of call serviced by ship. However, the more 
  prompt the requirement to leave port, the 
  higher 
  the 
  price 
  for 
  passage. 
  This 
  is 
  particularly true when Captain Earling is not 
  headed in the direction passengers desire to 
  travel. Under no circumstances, however, will 
  the Captain allow a previously established 
  deadline to be disrupted by the desires of 
  adventurers or other merchants. He prides 
  himself on completing tasks as assigned and 
  as negotiated. His business lives and dies by 
  his ability to deliver on the promises and 
  contracts he enters. 
   
  Adventurers are also likely to be approached 
  by Captain Earling or his first mate, Dugan 
  Eyresh, when there is a need for extra 
  muscle on a voyage. This is particularly true 
  when the 'Spray makes for such ports as 
  Luskan, Athkatla, or Calimshan. Harlequin 
  prefers adventurers who are sober and 
  responsible, and will likely pass over those 
  who appear unprofessional or too mercenary 
  for his personal tastes. Nonetheless, if an 
  adventuring 
  company 
  performs 
  well 
  in 
  defending the ship or assists the Captain in 
  making the run on time, he will reward them 
  well, and perhaps even enter into some long-
  term arrangement when the hireswords are 
  available.  
   
  Given the fact that Harlequin Earling is not 
  above shipping highly dangerous items or 
  objects desired by competing interests, it 
  may also be possible that adventurers could 
  be hired to retrieve items contracted for 
  shipping aboard the 'Spray. Given the speed 
  of the ship and the skills of its crew, such an 
  endeavor is not easily accomplished. If 
  adventurers do succeed in making off with a 
  cargo transported by Harlequin Earling, the 
  role of the Captain and his crew is likely to 
  become adversarial. Although Captain Earling 
  doesn't engage in piracy or active attempts 
  to exact vengeance against those who cross 
  him, he will make their lives particularly 
  difficult through the use of business contacts, 
  spreading rumors, gossip, and accusations 
  against offending adventurers. Additionally, if 
  given the opportunity to publicly embarrass 
  or humiliate someone who's offended him, 
  Harlequin Earling will ensure that those 
  crossing him never forget his name. 
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  The Iron City of Dis 
  By Gray Richardson 
   
  ‘Greetings, First Reader Tethtoril, from Grimbuckle the Gnome! 
   
  In my last report, I told you of how I traveled across the plane of Dragon Eyrie to a portal in 
  Tiamat’s Cave of Greed, which took me to the layer of Dis in the Nine Hells.  Having safely 
  completed my mission, I can now report to you of my adventure in Dis, and what befell me there.’ 
   
  Yours in knowledge, 
   
  Grimbuckle Thurn 
  Itinerant Planographer 
   
  * * * * 
   
  s I stepped through the 
  portal into the smoky brume 
  of Dis, the battered iron 
  doors slammed shut behind 
  me. I stood on a rocky 
  outcropping, high up on the 
  mountainous ring wall that 
  surrounds the layer.  I stared out at the 
  gloomy vista, and despite the sulfurous haze, 
  from my lofty vantage it seemed like I could 
  see forever. 
   
  I gazed down at the city that spread out 
  beyond, dominated in the distance by an 
  impossibly tall iron tower that pierces the sky 
  of Dis like a halberd.  As I looked down, I 
  saw the portal guards, alerted by the 
  thunderous peal of the clanging doors, 
  ascending fleetly up the mountainside to 
  intercept me.  Four abishai, one red and 
  three green, climbed toward me, their wings 
  beating hard against the air.  I drew my 
  wand of lightning and steeled myself against 
  their onslaught. 
   
  “Zindrilazar!” I triggered my wand as the first 
  green hove into range. The wand let loose a 
  blast of electric fury.  The fiend was charred 
  but not even stunned; the bolt seemed only 
  to propel it faster at me, motivated by rage 
  as well as duty.  In the precious few seconds 
  before they closed on me, I had only enough 
  time to get off two more bolts.  I succeeded 
  in killing the first one, but now the other 
  three were upon me. 
   
  The two green abishai dove towards me.  The 
  red one pushed past them to land in front of 
  me, his taloned feet grasping for purchase on 
  the stony slope.  The outcome looked quite 
  grave for me. 
   
  But then, in a wink, the red abishai turned on 
  his 
  companions. 
  He 
  launched 
  himself 
  backwards against the green abishai.  With a 
  kick to the head, he knocked one to the 
  ground, and leapt onto the back of the other.  
  Driving the talons of his feet deep into the 
  green one’s shoulder for leverage, the red 
  one grabbed the green’s wing joint with his 
  hands and pulled with all his might.  Ripping 
  the wing completely from its socket, he cast 
  it to the side as if doffing a cloak.  The red 
  then pushed off with his feet back into the 
  air, sending the maimed abishai hurtling 
  down the cliff face in an uncontrolled 
  plummet. 
   
  I got off one more bolt of lightning at the last 
  green before the red abishai fell upon it.  He 
  sank his fangs into its throat, ripping out its 
  gorge.  The green abishai spasmed twice.  It 
  stared up at the red one with an astonished, 
  quizzical look before the light dimmed 
  completely from its eyes. 
   
  
   
   
  Betrayal: in Baator, it’s not just a good idea… 
  it’s the law. 
   
  The red abishai now turned its gaze on me. 
  Its toothsome maw dripped with gore. It spat 
  blood on the ground, barred its teeth and 
  shouted, “Where’ve you been, gnome?  I’ve 
  been waiting for days!” 
   
  “Still yourself, Jal’Haya,” I said, “I’m here 
  now. Your payment is at hand.”  To calm 
  him, I drew forth the holy silver phylactery 
  from my vest pocket to show him briefly 
  before I cached it safely back beneath my 
  vest with a pat. 
   
  Inside, 
  it 
  contained 
  a 
  little 
  scrap 
  of 
  parchment on which was written Jally’s true 
  name, inscribed within a binding rune, and 
  sealed with the sigil of a tanar’ri lord.  By 
  means of this ensorcellment, the demon duke 
  had bound the abishai into the service of the 
  Abyss.  I won the thing in a game of talis 
  cards with Azkaro, a nalfeshnee commander 
  in Demogorgon’s legions.  He had been using 
  Jally (compelled by means of the parchment) 
  to smuggle tanar’ri agents past the portal 
  sentries into Dis. 
   
  Through my contacts, I had prearranged with 
  Jal’Haya to return the item to him, in 
  exchange for acting as my guide and 
  protector while in Dis. After one last service, 
  Jally would be the master of his own fate 
  again.  Well, that is, as much as one can be 
  their 
  own 
  master 
  in 
  Baator. 
   
  I retrieved another amulet from my vest, 
  and, donning it, I assumed the disguise of 
  the green abishai I had killed. Jally led me 
  down 
  the 
  mountainside 
  to 
  a 
  white 
  cobblestone road leading to the city of Dis. 
   
  On 
  closer 
  inspection, 
  I 
  saw 
  that 
  the 
  cobblestones were the tops of skulls.  The 
  Skull Path has a special magic to it.  Without 
  walking the Skull Path you can never get any 
  closer to the city.  It simply looms forever on 
  the horizon, no matter how fast you travel 
  towards it.  The layer is infinite, after all.  Yet 
  walking the Skull Path can take you there in 
  half a day.  
   
  Soon we were past the city gates. The Skull 
  Path dropped us off in the Rakshasa quarter 
  of Sri Fezzimyl, where the Rakshasa Raj 
  keeps an opulent embassy to the Nine Hells.  
  As we strolled past tiger-headed fiends in silk 
  and velvet robes, I marveled at the edifices 
  here, which are so unlike the rest of Dis.  
  Ivory towers and golden palisades line the 
  streets, everywhere inset with beautiful 
  mosaics. 
   
  Jally pointed out to me that much of the 
  architecture in this district is illusory, and 
  changes 
  daily 
  with 
  the 
  whims 
  of 
  the 
  rakshasas who reside here.  Reminded of 
  their skill at manipulating illusions, I hurried 
  to leave this quarter, unnerved by the 
  thought that should I attract their attention, 
  they might discern my disguise.  Within a few 
  blocks we had left Sri Fezzimyl and were 
  treading the more familiar streets of Dis, 
  paved in ubiquitous iron cobblestones. 
   
  Throughout the rest of Dis, the city is 
  constructed primarily of iron.  Iron rivets dot 
  the plating of the iron walls that ascend from 
  the iron streets to the tops of the iron 
  towers.  Everything is adorned with the spurs 
  and spiky crenellations which seem to be the 
  hallmark of fiendish construction. 
   
  I don’t know if those spiky bits are really 
  necessary, but they are all the style in the 
  nether planes.  Suggestive of pain and 
  danger, much like the spines, horns and 
  barbs that bristle from every hellish creature 
  here, the architecture of Dis is an ever-
  present reminder that there is no succor or 
  comfort to be found in the plane. 
   
  The metal here smokes and radiates a 
  powerful heat that sears to the touch.  It is 
  ill-advised to lean on, or even brush up 
  against, the architecture.  If you do not have 
  thick hide or a biology that is suited to such 
  heat, it is wise to dress in thick leather boots, 
  gloves and clothing to insulate you. It’s not 
  as hot as the Plane of Fire, mind you – 
  perhaps about the same as the sands of 
  Anauroch.  But you should be prepared with 
  some sort of protection from the environment 
  when you travel here. I myself was wearing a 
  ring of Aganazzar’s Anti-calefaction, which 
  warded me from the heat effects of the 
  plane. 
  
   
  The whole city reeks of a smithy; the metallic 
  fumes 
  of 
  smelting 
  iron 
  overhang 
  the 
  metropolis in a perpetual haze.  Through the 
  smog, I could just pick out the silhouette of 
  our destination, an octagonal fortress that 
  towered over the buildings on the distant 
  skyline.  We headed off to the Forbidden 
  Library of Furcas, where I was to meet my 
  target. 
   
  Furcas 
  is 
  Baator’s 
  Minister 
  of 
  Mortal 
  Relations.  He is a pit fiend, one of the most 
  powerful pit fiends. He is a member of the 
  Dark Eight, the shadow cabinet that runs 
  Hell.  Oh, to be sure, Asmodeus, Dispater 
  and the other Arch-devils may rule Hell, but 
  the Dark Eight keep it running.  Furcas and 
  the rest of the Dark Eight head up the civil 
  service that administers the government of 
  Hell. 
   
  As Minister of Mortal Relations, Furcas is in 
  charge of recruiting and corrupting mortal 
  beings.  He has legions of erinyes and other 
  honey-tongued seducers in his service.  This 
  is a task of primary importance to Baator, as 
  there are no deities within the Hells to gather 
  fresh souls from the Fugue Plane.  The devils 
  may 
  only 
  replenish 
  and 
  increase 
  their 
  population 
  by 
  persuading 
  (or 
  tricking) 
  mortals into selling their souls.  Furcas’s 
  legions must travel constantly to the Material 
  Plane, selling the services of the baatezu, 
  spreading their dark creed, signing contracts 
  and forging pacts with mortals. Upon the 
  death of these mortals, their souls can be 
  claimed by the Nine Hells. From these souls, 
  the devils make their loathsome lemures. 
   
  One of the many tools Furcas uses to tempt 
  mortals is the promise of knowledge.  With 
  that aim he keeps a giant library in Dis that 
  rivals the halls of Candlekeep.  A cyclopean, 
  octagonal 
  building, 
  Furcas’s 
  Forbidden 
  Library contains a trove of dark secrets and 
  taboo knowledge that has tempted many a 
  mage or scholar with the arcane lore they 
  need to fulfill their darkest desires. 
   
  Aside from selling one’s soul, one of the few 
  ways to gain entrance to the library is by 
  trading a valuable secret or a rare book – 
  much like Candlekeep! Jally was able to 
  purchase our admission by bartering some 
  scrolls containing the accounts of an obscure 
  gnomish planewalker…  I hope you don’t 
  mind, Tethtoril, if a few copies of my journals 
  find their way onto the shelves of other 
  repositories around the planes. 
   
  The 
  Forbidden 
  Library 
  is 
  an 
  awesome 
  structure.  The main entrance opens on a 
  grand hallway that leads to a massive, 
  octagonal reading room at the center of the 
  building.  A vast mural graces the domed 
  ceiling, depicting Furcas giving knowledge to 
  debased supplicants.  A labyrinth of shelves 
  and corridors expands outward from this 
  room in concentric rings.  Everywhere imps 
  flap about, fetching scrolls and tomes and 
  grimoires for the readers in the main room. 
   
  A few quiet inquiries and one of the imps led 
  us back through the maze of scrolls to a 
  hallway with shelves several stories tall.  A 
  tiny librarian fluttered down to meet us, her 
  angelic dove wings gently stroking the air.  
  Hovering before me was the most attractive 
  devil I had ever met, a tiny erinyes who 
  introduced herself as Dyphne. Erinyes look 
  like angels, but it would be dangerous to 
  mistake one for the other.  An Erinyes will 
  steal your soul, as well as your heart. 
   
  After we exchanged the pass-phrase and 
  counter-phrase, I knew I had finally met my 
  target.  Dyphne was also the smallest erinyes 
  I had ever seen.  Little larger than an imp, 
  she was only slightly smaller than my natural 
  stature – had I not been currently wearing 
  the body of a hulking abishai.  Her frame was 
  more ample than your average erinyes, a 
  little cherub. Her beauty was enthralling, yet 
  it filled me with terror all the same.                              
   
  “I used to specialize in tempting gnomes and 
  halflings,” she explained. “But I kept falling in 
  love with the men I was supposed to seduce. 
  I came this shy of being demoted,” she 
  pinched the air as she smiled a sheepish grin. 
  “It was only by Tymora’s luck that I managed 
  to get reassigned here instead – I had no 
  desire to relearn the lessons of the barbazu 
  caste.”  The penalty for failure in Baator is 
  demotion to a lesser form. 
   
  “I used to be stationed in Beluir.  I tempted 
  many a Luiren elder, let me tell you.  Even 
  succeeded a few times.  But my heart was 
  never in it.  That’s how I met Winnie.”   
  
   
   
  Winifred is a halfling priestess of Tymora who 
  lives in Brightwater.  She’s the one who 
  convinced me to undertake this mission.  I 
  have performed several such extractions in 
  the past, helping willing fiends defect to the 
  celestial planes.  Winnie is a charmer, as 
  persuasive as any erinyes.  She’s always 
  coaxing fiends to defect to the side of good.  
  Winnie had told me I was uniquely suited for 
  this mission.  Now I realized why. 
   
  I took off my amulet and my abishai 
  disguise.  The green scales fell away from me 
  as I shrank back to my gnomish form.  
  “Grimbuckle Thurn, at your service.  Your 
  freedom is at hand.  I’ll have you safely away 
  momentarily” I said, a mawkish smile on my 
  face as I fumbled in my bag for a large folio.  
  From 
  its 
  pages 
  I 
  extracted 
  a 
  large 
  parchment.  I unfolded it to its full size, 
  revealing a finely illuminated drawing of a gilt 
  doorway.  I said the magic words and the 
  doorway opened into a portal to the plane of 
  Brightwater. 
   
  Jally interposed a taloned hand against my 
  chest. 
   
  “My payment, gnome!” he demanded. 
   
  “You have fulfilled your bargain, Jal’Haya.” I 
  drew the silver container from my vest, and 
  said the charm to unlock it.  I pulled out the 
  scrap of parchment and turned it over to my 
  diabolic guide.  “You have earned your price.” 
   
  Jally snatched it from my hand and blasted it 
  with his fiery breath.  As flames consumed 
  the binding spell which had held him hostage 
  to the tanar’ri he yelled, “I’m free!” 
   
  “Free!” he hollered with such enthusiasm.  
  His joy was infectious and with a smile I 
  turned to escort Dyphne through the portal.  
  Fortunately, my cloak and the ring I was 
  wearing protected me from the blazing jet 
  that Jally next leveled at my back. 
   
  Thankfully, my body had also partially 
  shielded the portal which was our only 
  avenue of escape.  The edges, however, had 
  caught fire and it began to crisp and crackle 
  as fire consumed it. 
   
  “Guards! Traitors are escaping!  There’s a 
  gnome loose in the library!  Catch the 
  gnome!” he bellowed. 
   
  I suppose I should have expected his 
  treachery.  But I was not completely 
  unprepared.  I had a trick of my own to play 
  on Jally. 
   
  “Ia Jalashta Hayarok dan abishai!  Ad nesq 
  maharot ixit vaettru…” I chanted at him, 
  invoking his true name (of course I had 
  peeked!)  As the baleful polymorph began to 
  take hold of him, Jally shrank rapidly.  His 
  scales fell away to reveal soft pink skin 
  beneath.  Jally was turning into a gnome, a 
  perfect simulacrum of me. 
   
  I pushed Dyphne through the ring of fire, and 
  jumped swiftly after her as the flames 
  consumed the paper portal.  I looked back to 
  see a confused Jal’Haya shouting, as a 
  skeletal osyluth poked its head round the 
  corner and came at him.  Then the portal 
  crackled and turned to ash, leaving only 
  cinders to mark our passing. 
   
  Betrayal: in Baator it’s not just a good idea – 
  it’s the law. 
   
  A joyous sight greeted us on the other side.  
  I stood outdoors with Dyphne in the Garden 
  of Fate’s Whimsy.  I breathed in the sweet 
  air.  The scent of honeysuckle filled my 
  nostrils and chased away the ferrous fumes 
  of Dis.  Golden sunlight illuminated the city 
  around us as we took in the view from the 
  hilltop garden. 
   
  Marble halls and temples dotted the pastoral 
  hillsides as a sparkling, golden river wended 
  its way through the city and its canals below 
  us.  A sparkling river whose bright waters 
  give this plane its name, for we had arrived 
  in Brightwater:  plane of beauty, joy, and fair 
  goddesses. 
   
  Ah, but that is a tale for my next report! 
   
  Yours in knowledge, 
   
   
  Grimbuckle Thurn 
  Itinerant Planographer 
  
   
   
  !
  Part I 
  By Chris Jameson 
   
  Of all the forms of government found in the Realms, perhaps none is as intriguing as Waterdeep’s 
  unique system. With the exception of a brief and tumultuous period, the City of Splendors has 
  been ruled by a hidden council of Lords for over three centuries. With one exception, Waterdeep’s 
  Lords have ruled fairly and justly, putting the needs and concerns of the city ahead of their own 
  desires. 
   
  Another of the unique qualities of the Lords is that they have been drawn from all walks of life. 
  Wizards, nobles, merchants and common laborers have all served as Lords. Lordship is not 
  restricted by race; though most Lords have been human, there have also been elven, half-elven, 
  and halfling Lords. 
   
  The citizens of Waterdeep believe they are ruled by sixteen Lords. However, the number was 
  secretly increased to twenty in 1364, after an ex-Harper caused considerable turmoil within the 
  city. City of Splendors: Waterdeep (pages 52-55) lists the following individuals as Lords: Open 
  Lord Piergeiron the Paladinson, Brian the Swordmaster, Caladorn Cassalanter, Durnan the 
  Wanderer, Mirt the Moneylender, Larissa Neathal, Khelben “Blackstaff” Arunsun, Nymara “Kitten” 
  Scheiron, Sammareza Sulphontis, Texter, Kyriani Agrivar, Brianne Byndraeth, and Nindil Jalbuck. 
  Ed Greenwood’s short story “A Slow Day in Skullport”, found in Realms of the Underdark, listed 
  Mirt’s lady Asper as another Lord of Waterdeep. The Siege, the second book of the Return of the 
  Archwizards trilogy, named another Lord, Deliah the White. 
   
  With fifteen of the twenty Lords named, Dungeon Masters are free to create their own Lords, 
  filling their own needs. Here is one possible Lord DMs can use. Following the tradition of past 
  Waterdhavian supplements, only a minimal stat block is given. 
   
   
  Terielle  Nashirn 
  Terielle Nashirn 
  CG Female human werecatLE rogue 4/priest 4 
  of Selûne/SilverstarFP 6 
   
  History:  
   
  erielle Nashirn was born in 
  Waterdeep's Dock Ward, to 
  poor but happy parents. Her 
  father, Masyn Nashirn, was 
  a sailor aboard the Dancing 
  Dolphin, a merchant vessel. 
  Her mother Lera was a 
  seamstress. Lera was also a werecat, though 
  neither her man nor their daughter knew this 
  about her. 
   
  Terielle's childhood was relatively idyllic. 
  Though her parents weren't able to provide 
  her with many comforts, she knew she was 
  loved and cared for. Her parents were kind 
  people, and Terielle was happy. 
   
  In Terielle's ninth year, disaster befell her 
  family. The Dancing Dolphin was lost at sea, 
  with 
  all 
  aboard 
  presumed 
  dead. 
  Lera, 
  despondent at the loss of her beloved 
  husband, turned to alcohol to escape the 
  pain. Late one night, nearly senseless from 
  the strong spirits she'd consumed, she 
  knocked over a lantern. In her drunken 
  stupor, she was unable to escape the swiftly 
  spreading flames.  
   
  
   
   
  Terielle awoke to find her home engulfed in 
  fire. She dove through a window, barely 
  escaping with her life. Within minutes, a 
  Watch patrol arrived to battle the blaze, but 
  they were unable to save the building. 
  Terielle watched, heartsick, as her home 
  collapsed, taking with it everything she'd 
  ever known. The young girl fled into the 
  night, sobbing. 
   
  Terielle quickly learned to rely on her natural 
  wits and dexterity to survive. Making a new 
  life in the shadows, she was forced to turn to 
  thievery just to survive. For the next three 
  years, Terielle lived a half-life, stealing from 
  others and hiding from the Watch. She was 
  rarely comfortable, usually in fear, and 
  always lonely. Terielle was living day to day, 
  with no thoughts of what the next day might 
  bring. 
   
  Her life again turned upside-down in her 
  twelfth summer. Terielle was kidnapped by 
  slavers, 
  and 
  dragged 
  down 
  into 
  Undermountain. Her captors traversed the 
  Underhalls, their destination the legendary 
  city of Skullport. Their laughter and crude 
  jests spoke volumes about Terielle’s fate 
  once they reached the dark and lawless 
  metropolis. As the frightened girl frantically 
  tried 
  to 
  free 
  herself, 
  her 
  were-nature 
  manifested itself for the first time. 
   
  Assuming 
  a 
  hybrid 
  feline-human 
  form, 
  Terielle slipped her bonds and pounced on 
  her captors. The startled men were no match 
  for an enraged werecat; confused and 
  terrified, they quickly fell to the claws of their 
  former captive. After slaying her tormentors, 
  Terielle assumed cat form, and somehow 
  found her way out of Halaster's Halls.  
   
  Once she’d returned to Waterdeep, the girl 
  was horrified by what had happened, thinking 
  herself 
  some 
  sort 
  of 
  cursed 
  monster. 
  However, as the days and weeks passed, she 
  slowly realized that her newfound abilities 
  would serve her well in her larcenous 
  endeavors. Terielle became accustomed to 
  what she was, and often prowled the city's 
  rooftops in cat form. 
   
  Two years later, there was yet another 
  upheaval in the young girl's life. This time, all 
  of Faerûn was affected. The gods had been 
  cast out of the heavens, and forced to walk 
  the Realms in mortal form. Selûne, the 
  goddess of the moon and one of Waterdeep's 
  patron deities, descended to the City of 
  Splendors, taking up residence in her temple. 
  Terielle, like many Waterdhavians, flocked to 
  the House of the Moon, eager to see the 
  goddess made flesh.  
   
  It was a revelation for the young werecat. 
  For the first time in her life, she saw that 
  there was something bigger than herself and 
  her struggles, something more than life in 
  the City of Splendors. Humbled by this 
  epiphany, Terielle joined the swelling ranks 
  of Selûne's followers. 
   
  However, there was a dark secret about to be 
  revealed. The descended Selûne was not the 
  goddess of the moon; she was Shar, the 
  Moonmaiden's eternal enemy. The ruse was 
  revealed, and the two goddesses battled in 
  front of an amazed and fearful populace. The 
  real Selûne was victorious, banishing her 
  dark foe.   
   
  Terielle was aghast at what had happened. 
  Feeling remorseful that she had worshipped 
  the enemy of her newfound goddess, she 
  chose to make amends by directly serving 
  the Moonmaiden. Leaving her career as a 
  thief behind, the young werecat joined 
  Selûne's priesthood. 
   
  As a priestess, Terielle discovered that she 
  was not the only lycanthrope serving the 
  goddess of the moon. She learned that 
  Waterdeep was home to the Knights of the 
  Half 
  Moon, 
  a 
  small 
  group 
  of 
  Selûne-
  worshipping werecats. Terielle was heartily 
  welcomed into this small group, joining them 
  in their tireless opposition to the wererats 
  also present in the City of Splendors. 
   
  Kyriani, a personal friend of Selûne and an 
  agent of Khelben Arunsun’s, soon noticed the 
  young werecat. She introduced Terielle to the 
  Blackstaff, who immediately made her one of 
  his 
  personal 
  agents. 
  Terielle 
  used 
  her 
  werecat abilities to help gather information 
  on various people Khelben wanted watched, 
  and her membership as a Knight of the Half 
  Moon to further Waterdeep’s aims in the 
  city’s 
  underside. 
  Her 
  most 
  notable 
  accomplishment 
  was 
  stopping 
  Bosnik 
  
   
  Spekair, a wererat follower of Talona who 
  planned to unleash a plague upon the City of 
  Splendors. 
   
  After serving Khelben and the City of 
  Splendors for several years, Terielle was 
  nonetheless amazed when Kyriani revealed 
  her status as one of Waterdeep’s hidden 
  Lords. Another Lord had just retired, and Kyri 
  and Khelben both thought Terielle a fitting 
  candidate for the vacant Lordship. After 
  much deliberation, the werecat priestess 
  accepted the charge. 
   
   
  Current Status: 
   
  Terielle’s main role as a Lord remains 
  gathering information. In cat form, she can 
  reach many places unseen and unheard, 
  spying on nobles and merchants in places 
  other agents can’t reach. She also keeps a 
  keen ear out for rumors, and, as a priestess, 
  hears many things from the city’s common 
  folk. Her status as a Knight of the Half Moon 
  allows her to watch over Waterdeep’s sewers, 
  a place that the city’s laws cannot always 
  reach. 
   
  Among the Lords, Terielle is closest to Kyriani 
  and Ralser Kepp, both of whom are, like her, 
  recent additions to the ranks of Waterdeep’s 
  hidden rulers. Terielle is close to Kyriani 
  because of their past as Khelben’s agents 
  and their shared devotion to Selûne. With 
  Ralser, she shares a larcenous background 
  and position as a gatherer of information in 
  the city’s lawless side. The two maintain a 
  friendly rivalry that dates back to a chance 
  encounter when Terielle was still just a thief, 
  but the reality is that they are great friends 
  and would do much to aid the other, if needs 
  be.  
   
  Terielle is also a member of the Harpers. She 
  knows of the Tel’Teukiira, and agrees with 
  their aims, but has not yet formally joined 
  the 
  organization. 
  She 
  is 
  considering 
  membership, but worries about a possible 
  conflict between her duties as a Harper and 
  her duties as a Moonstar. As both a Lord of 
  Waterdeep and one of Selûne’s Silverstars, 
  she’s 
  already 
  juggling 
  considerable 
  responsibilities. 
   
  Appearance and personality:  
   
  Terielle is a short and slender woman, 
  standing a mere two inches over five feet. 
  Her raven-black hair is very short, and her 
  eyes are a deep brown. She is quite 
  attractive, and appears to still be in her early 
  twenties. Terielle prefers to dress in shades 
  of dark blue and silver, and always has some 
  sort of moonstone jewelry on. She eschews 
  robes and dresses, often wearing light, loose 
  trousers and a tunic. She wears gowns and 
  robes for formal occasions or when dressing 
  to impress, but usually prefers loose and 
  flowing garb. 
   
  In her hybrid form, she retains much of her 
  lush 
  curves, 
  but 
  gains 
  several 
  feline 
  characteristics. Her head becomes a cross of 
  human and feline features. A tail sprouts 
  from the small of her back, her digits become 
  clawed, and her legs become more cat-like. 
  Dark fur sheathes her entire body, save for a 
  small silver crescent moon over her heart.  
   
  Terielle’s cat form is identical to that of a 
  common housecat, save for her larger size. 
  Her 
  near-solid 
  ebony 
  coloration 
  greatly 
  contributes to her ability to remain unseen 
  during her nocturnal hunts. 
   
  Terielle 
  is 
  quick-witted, 
  curious, 
  and 
  observant, qualities that have served her well 
  in the past. She is unfailingly kind to those 
  around her, and is rarely seen without a 
  friendly smile. She is also reputed to be 
  rather free with her affections, and is known 
  to have had many lovers of both genders. 
  Terielle, like Kyriani, is one of those rare 
  women who remains close to former lovers; 
  but unlike Kyri, she rarely has more than one 
  lover at a time.  
   
  Terielle moves through life with exuberance 
  and 
  zest, 
  and 
  a 
  kind 
  of 
  wide-eyed 
  cheerfulness that draws many to her. Terielle 
  is renowned for approaching all activities with 
  a sort of frantic energy; whether it is combat 
  in the sewers, leading worship of Selûne, or 
  lovemaking, she is tireless and driven. She is 
  an excellent dancer, and also an enthusiastic 
  singer, though she admittedly lacks any 
  musical skill. Terielle is known for generosity 
  towards beggars and the homeless. 
   
  
   
   
  Due to her past, Terielle has a fear of large 
  fires, and is unwilling to travel anywhere by 
  sea. She hates followers of Shar, but also 
  reserves special antipathy for slavers and 
  wererats. Despite having forgone her lawless 
  past, she’s still not comfortable around 
  members of the Watch.  
   
  When not at the House of the Moon, Terielle 
  can usually be found either at the Blushing 
  Mermaid or at Selûne’s Smile. The rest of the 
  time she is either visiting her current 
  paramour or prowling through the city. Her 
  nocturnal hunts usually start in the streets of 
  the Dock Ward, and range from there to 
  Waterdeep’s rooftops or its sewers.  
  !
   
   
  Author’s Note: A variety of factors went into the creation of Terielle Nashirn. Looking at the listed Lords, I noticed that 
  there were no clerics among their ranks. I looked at the deities worshipped in Waterdeep and selected Selûne, because her 
  most prominent temple is found in the City of Splendors, and the goddess spent much time in the city before the advent of 
  the Time of Troubles. I also wanted to create a lycanthrope, and this was appropriate for Selûne’s faith. 
  Reading the werecat entry in Realms Bestiary, Volume 1 by Eric L. Boyd and Thomas M. Costa (found at 
  http://www.ericlboyd.com/dnd/realms_bestiary_v1.pdf.zip) inspired me to make a werecat character. Some 
  aspects of Terielle’s personality were patterned around the commonly-held conceptions of cats. The fact that Terielle didn’t 
  know of her nature before her traumatic “first change” was a factor inspired by the White Wolf RPG Werewolf: the 
  Apocalypse. Her appearance is not what was originally planned; the wallpaper I had on my computer when I created 
  Terielle inspired her changed appearance. 
  
   
  !
  Ilmwatch, The Fortress City 
  By Erika Connolly 
   
  * * * * 
   
  Who Rules: Heskar Brandosk (NG male 
  human Fighter 6), a strong and fearless 
  member of the Order of the Sacred Shrike, 
  who labors continually to keep Ilmwatch 
  efficient 
  as 
  a 
  fortress 
  and 
  mercantile 
  waypoint. 
   
  Who Really Rules: Heskar is influenced 
  highly by the Knights of Imphras II and 
  defers to them on most, if not all, matters. 
  On matters not of interest to the Knights, 
  Heskar is informally advised by Bladelord 
  Ilaunbrar and Reltharn o’ the Blade (see 
  Armed Forces below), whose opinions and 
  judgment carry considerable weight with 
  him. 
   
  Population: 589 year-round (450 of which 
  are Warswords of Impiltur), with 20 to 100 
  visiting merchants and other folk at any time. 
   
  Major Products: Little is actually produced 
  in Ilmwatch; rather, it is a waypoint for 
  caravan travel into the Cold Lands. Still, 
  many ships (usually originating here) travel 
  across 
  the 
  Easting 
  Reach 
  to 
  Uthmere, 
  carrying precious metals, gems, and products 
  from the Cold Lands. 
   
  Armed Forces: Ilmwatch is a veritable 
  fortress; depending upon the time of year, 
  from one-third to one-half of its occupants 
  are members of Impiltur’s Warswords. The 
  highest 
  ranking 
  permanently 
  garrisoned 
  officer is Seablade (Vigilar) Ilaunbrar (NG 
  male human Paladin 7/Legendary Captain 
  [Stormwrack] 4 ), recipient of the Reefshard 
  Shield(a two-point service[battle] decoration) 
  for his valiance during the Frozen Reach 
  naval campaign of 1371 DR (see Environs 
  below). Ilaunbrar is primarily responsible for 
  naval operations in the northern Easting 
  Reach, including raids on the pirates of 
  Buzzard Beak Harbor. The majority of the 
  land-based Warswords, including caravan 
  guards, report to Reltharn o’ the Blade (LG 
  male human Fighter 5), a grizzled old 
  veteran who is vital to keeping Ilmwatch’s 
  operations running smoothly. 
   
  Two-thirds of the Warswords at Ilmwatch are 
  cavalry/infantry, while the other third is part 
  of the Royal Navy. Approximately 100 
  members of the garrison are out of Ilmwatch 
  at any given time, either patrolling or 
  guarding caravans. Another 100 can be 
  considered to be on active duty; 20 of these 
  act as the city guard as necessary, while the 
  other 80 act as reinforcements in dire 
  situations (such as a patrol finding itself 
  outmatched; see page 202 of the Forgotten 
  Realms Campaign Setting). At least one ship 
  is prepared to be cast off at any time as 
  support; such a ship can be out of the docks 
  in less than ten minutes from the first alarm. 
  See 
  Encounters 
  In 
  And 
  Around 
  Ilmwatch, below, for rules details on all of 
  these groups. 
   
  Important Features: Ilmwatch itself is a 
  mighty fortress on the edge of the Easting 
  Reach, built atop a small cliff. Adjoining the 
  fortress is a semicircular stone wall, inside 
  which are the assorted buildings which make 
  up the civilian part of Ilmwatch. The fortress 
  itself extends for three floors above ground, 
  and one floor below ground.  
   
  The underground level is actually one of the 
  most busy, as it contains the docks and 
  barracks of the Royal Navy detachment 
  stationed at Ilmwatch. Ships are launched 
  through large openings cut into the cliff side, 
  which are normally closed by giant steel 
  doors attached to a large pulley system.  
   
  The ground level is the inn known as the 
  Fortress 
  Cornerstone 
  (see 
  Adventurers’ 
  Quarters). The first above-ground level is 
  largely open-air plazas used as marching and 
  training 
  grounds 
  (there 
  are 
  some 
  supplemental, 
  but 
  rarely 
  used, 
  grounds 
  
   
   
  within the walls of Ilmwatch the community, 
  but outside the fortress itself). These plazas 
  encircle the large tower that makes up the 
  last two above-ground levels. That tower 
  includes the barracks and other chambers for 
  the Warswords stationed at Ilmwatch. The 
  Warswords’ stables are in another building 
  attached to the Ilmwatch fortress, but not 
  part of the fortress itself. 
   
  Buildings within the wall are designed to 
  make the most of limited space; they often 
  have multiple stories and small areas per 
  floor. Two gates pierce the wall, one to the 
  west and one to the northwest. The Herald’s 
  Road threads through Ilmwatch and ends its 
  eastern journey in the small plaza informally 
  referred to as “Herald’s Meet”. 
   
  The fortress at Ilmwatch is often referred to 
  as Fortress Ilmwatch for simplicity. 
   
  Notable Mages and Sages: 
   
  • 
  Wavemage (Alorn) Imaraun (NG male 
  human Wizard 9) is highest ranking of 
  the Royal Navy mage stationed at 
  Ilmwatch. He specializes in naval 
  combat and marine magic, and is very 
  hard to actually find in Ilmwatch itself, 
  as he's often on patrol testing new 
  spells. This has lead to such situations 
  as Warswords being gingerly dropped 
  into the water with a new water 
  breathing variant affecting them, and 
  a ring of water breathing in their 
  hands, in case the experimental spell 
  didn’t function properly. 
  • 
  Alorn Taelabra (LG female human 
  Warmage [Complete Arcane] 9, Militia 
  feat [Player's Guide to Faerûn]) is the 
  highest 
  ranking 
  mage 
  in 
  the 
  Warswords of Impiltur stationed at 
  Ilmwatch. She is very devoted to her 
  duties and very tactically-minded; she 
  can mostly be found on duty or 
  practicing 
  spellcasting 
  and/or 
  bladework. 
  • 
  Beachmage (Warblade) Imalaran (N 
  male lightfoot halfling Wizard 5) is a 
  Royal Navy mage with a semi-illicit 
  sideline: 
  selling 
  scrolls. 
  Finding 
  Imalaran to purchase scrolls from him 
  can be difficult; he is currently serving 
  double patrol duty for a series of 
  pranks played on Wavemage Imaraun 
  some time ago. Still, if he can be 
  located, he is a good source of 1st to 
  3rd level scrolls, selling them at 
  market price. 
  • 
  Daleer of Tyraturos (NE male human 
  Conjurer 5/Red Wizard of Thay 3) is 
  the overseer of a very small enclave 
  outside of the walls of Ilmwatch, with 
  no more than 15 inhabitants. The 
  Ilmwatch enclave is not favored by 
  Thay; in fact, it is a post generally 
  given to those fallen out of favour in 
  the 
  political 
  games 
  of 
  the 
  Red 
  Wizards. 
   
  Notable Clergy and Churches: 
   
  Note that some of the clergy in the following 
  sections are also part of the Impilturan 
  military. 
   
  • 
  The Spire of the Balanced Hand is 
  Ilmwatch's temple to Tyr. Master 
  Avenger Aelanar Ilmarn (LG male 
  human Cleric 13 of Tyr; Hand of Tyr 
  [City of Splendors: Waterdeep] feat, 
  not exalted[Book of Exalted Deeds]) 
  leads the temple and congregation, 
  aided by 7 priests serving over 200 
  followers. Aelanar is known as a very 
  devout follower of Tyr, to the point 
  where he cut his own hand off to 
  further show his devotion. He is also 
  known for placing his devotion to Tyr 
  and 
  law 
  over 
  what 
  most 
  would 
  consider good morals; he has been 
  known to bring followers to the local 
  Herald for blasphemy. The Spire itself 
  is a small structure, but easily the 
  tallest in Ilmwatch, standing taller 
  than the fortress itself. Inside, the 
  Spire is cramped, but filled with 
  imagery and items of devotion to Tyr. 
  The first three floors are given to 
  spaces for altars, all of which are 
  regularly used for worship. 
  • 
  The Annex of the Golden Lion is just 
  that, an annexed tower of Fortress 
  Ilmwatch turned into a temple to 
  Torm. Its lowest floor is part of the 
  third level of the fortress, but does 
  not offer any access to the rest of the 
  fortress. 
  Holy 
  Champion 
  Imara 
  Kythlan (LG female human Favored 
  
   
  Soul 12 [Complete Divine] of Torm) is 
  a calm and unshakable woman who 
  leads 6 priests and 150 followers. 
  Imara has been greatly influenced by 
  research she has performed on the 
  Triad Crusade [see Champions of 
  Valor], and she offers free room, 
  board, and limited support (free low-
  level 
  spellcasting, 
  discounts 
  on 
  higher-level 
  spellcasting) 
  to 
  those 
  dedicated to purging fiendish influence 
  from Impiltur and the rest of the 
  Demonlands.  
  • 
  The House of the Painbearer is a 
  temple to Ilmater. Martyred Champion 
  Almgost (LG male human Fighter 
  6/Cleric 
  3/Martyred 
  Champion 
  of 
  Ilmater [Player's Guide to Faerûn] 
  3/Contemplative [Complete Divine] 2) 
  officially 
  leads 
  the 
  160 
  member 
  congregation, although most of the 
  work is done by eight attendant 
  priests during his long periods of 
  asceticism, 
  meditation, 
  and 
  flagellation.  
  • 
  The Chamber of the Coin is a small 
  shrine to Waukeen observed by Syndo 
  Immal Nathlehk (NG male human 
  Cleric 5), with a small attached 
  conference room for merchants. It can 
  be found in a section of the Fortress 
  Cornerstone 
  (see 
  Adventurer's 
  Quarters) 
  • 
  A small shrine to Kossuth is located 
  within the Thayan enclave. 
   
  Notable Rogues’ and Thieves Guilds: 
   
  • 
  With 
  few 
  thieves 
  and 
  a 
  small 
  population, Ilmwatch does not have a 
  thieves guild. However, there are 
  single operators who operate within 
  the confines of the area. 
  • 
  Garibrar Eythnam (LE male shield 
  dwarf Rogue 2/Fighter 1, Skill Focus 
  [Disguise]) is one of these operators. 
  Garibrar offers his services as a 
  caravan guide to caravans heading 
  into 
  the 
  Cold 
  Lands, 
  preferably 
  towards Narfell. Once the caravan is 
  out of safety (out of the reach of 
  Impiltur’s Warswords and away from 
  any local defenders), Garibrar signals 
  to his compatriots. Mounted on giant 
  ravens, they attack from the sky and 
  seize the caravan. Then Garibrar 
  adopts a new disguise, and returns to 
  Ilmwatch. Lost caravans are common 
  enough that this ploy is possible, 
  although risky. 
   
  Equipment Shops:  
   
  Full. Notable shops include: 
   
  • 
  The Warswords’ armory is run by 
  Alambrar (NG male half-elf Fighter 
  2/Expert 3), a semi-active member of 
  the Warswords with a sharp eye, and 
  a soft streak for companions down on 
  their luck. A Warsword’s first set of 
  gear 
  is 
  provided 
  for 
  free. 
  Replacements come out of their own 
  funds, but Alambrar sometimes bends 
  that rule out of pity or empathy. A 
  large amount of a soldier’s normal 
  gear is stored here (the equipment 
  listed for a Common Warsword below 
  in 
  Encounters 
  In 
  And 
  Around 
  Ilmwatch), and Alambrar keeps a 
  small quantity of other items (mostly 
  weapons 
  and 
  miscellaneous 
  gear, 
  nothing above 2,000 gp, with no 
  additional 
  markup 
  beyond 
  market 
  price). 
  Usage 
  of 
  the 
  armory 
  is 
  restricted 
  to 
  Warswords 
  or 
  adventurers 
  on 
  swordpoint 
  duty. 
  Alambrar never buys items. 
  • 
  Alaeressa’s Sundries is the small store 
  run by Alaeressa of Evermeet (CG 
  female moon elf Sorcerer 4/Bard 3, 
  Brew Potion feat). Alaeressa has a 
  penchant 
  for 
  exotic 
  gowns 
  and 
  clothing, ornate (some would say 
  overblown) jewelry, and bright colors 
  in warm tones. She is a vibrant, 
  charismatic woman, who is not above 
  using her gender to close a deal on 
  occasion. However, she is a hardliner 
  in business, nearly always sticking to 
  her preassigned prices. In addition to 
  potions of her own creation, Alaeressa 
  sells mostly sundries and luxuries, 
  augmented 
  by 
  the 
  potions 
  she 
  creates, at an additional 10% over the 
  prices 
  listed 
  in 
  various 
  sources. 
  Occasionally, a magical item may 
  appear on her tables; this is often 
  priced at bargain prices, due to it 
  having 
  been 
  picked 
  up 
  by 
  one 
  
   
   
  merchant or another who had no clue 
  as to its real powers.  
   
  Selling items to Alaeressa is possible, 
  although she only pays 25% of the 
  price of most items. If she can be 
  convinced she will be able to use an 
  item somehow, or if it appeals to her 
  tastes, she will pay 40% for it. 
   
  She 
  is 
  also 
  an 
  agent 
  for 
  the 
  Tel’Teukiira, watching the merchants 
  passing through Ilmwatch for some 
  sign or another. She reports to Khala 
  of Peltarch (see Cloak & Dagger.) 
  • 
  When in town, Dalan Aledhap (CN 
  male 
  halfling 
  Expert 
  3) 
  operates 
  Dalan’s 
  Wonders 
  from 
  a 
  small 
  enclosed traveling cart. Dalan travels 
  across the Cold Lands, ferrying goods 
  as part of this or that mercantile 
  escapade. Along the way, he trades or 
  buys (or occasionally steals) items he 
  finds 
  intriguing, 
  interesting, 
  or 
  outright weird. When he returns to 
  Ilmwatch, he opens up shop, selling 
  these wonders to others (in exchange 
  for a good profit, of course.)  
   
  The items available at Dalan’s very 
  wildly in function, appearance, and 
  price (most are art objects or gems, 
  however). It is said that “the weirder 
  or more unique it looks, the greater 
  the chance it will be at Dalan’s”. 
  Previous 
  big 
  selling 
  items 
  have 
  included 
  the 
  “Miniature 
  Singing 
  Statues of the Ancient Narfelli” and 
  rogue stone fragments. In the Year of 
  Lightning Storms (1374 DR), Dalan 
  has a very dangerous item in his 
  possession, although he doesn’t know 
  it – a major iceheart [Frostburn] in an 
  antimagic box (see New Magic Item 
  below). 
   
  Adventurer’s Quarters:  
   
  Ilmwatch is home to one inn and one 
  tavern/festhall. 
   
  • 
  The Fortress Cornerstone (fair/poor) 
  is the only inn in Ilmwatch, having a 
  monopoly 
  silently 
  supported 
  by 
  Heskar Brandosk. It occupies the 
  entire 
  ground 
  level 
  of 
  Fortress 
  Ilmwatch, except for the sealed off 
  core staircase allowing travel between 
  levels by Warswords, who can enter 
  on the first above-ground level or 
  below. Few amenities are provided: 
  there is a single common room, a 
  substandard cooking staff, and a very 
  light collection of liquors. 
   
  The Fortress Cornerstone is operated 
  by Aeldram Kelmar (LN male dwarf 
  Fighter 
  2/Expert 
  1), 
  a 
  retired 
  Warsword who brooks no interference, 
  negotiation 
  with 
  his 
  prices, 
  or 
  disruption from his guests. 
   
  • 
  The Wobbling Shrike (fair prices) is 
  Ilmwatch’s festhall. It is a new but 
  ramshackle structure, having been 
  built on the same ground as its many 
  predecessors. Here, generations of 
  Impilturan Warswords have gotten 
  drunk, acted rowdy, and frequently 
  accidentally 
  burned 
  down 
  hastily 
  erected shelters. 
   
  Heskar, Ilaunbrar, and Reltharn turn a 
  mostly 
  blind 
  eye 
  to 
  Warsword 
  activities at the Wobbling Shrike. 
  However, after particularly egregious 
  breaches of conduct, Warswords may 
  the next day find themselves punished 
  with enforced parade marches and 
  training. 
  After 
  the 
  last 
  Wobbling 
  Shrike burned down, some Warswords 
  were doing maneuvers from dawn till 
  dusk, and were assigned to patrol 
  duty for a tenday thereafter.  
   
  Umararn Imilgran (NG male human 
  Ftr 1), is the current Warsword 
  nominally in charge of the Wobbling 
  Shrike, and is the contact for most 
  anything to do with it. He’s also the 
  man who will be marching in place for 
  a full day when the Shrike burns 
  down, as it has done so many times in 
  the past.  
   
  Alaeressa (see Equipment Shops) 
  occasionally performs at the Shrike, 
  and 
  those 
  nights 
  are 
  often 
  the 
  rowdiest, 
  as 
  she 
  performs 
  a 
  
   
  tantalizing dance accented by her 
  celestial voice. 
  • 
  Barracks 
  spaces 
  are 
  occasionally 
  available 
  to 
  adventurers 
  on 
  swordpoint duty and down on their 
  luck. These should be considered 
  poor/cheap. 
  Either 
  Ilaunbrar 
  or 
  Reltharn are the contacts for such 
  lodgings. 
   
  Important Characters:  
   
  • 
  Aelagon (N male gold elf Conjurer 
  11/Thaumaturgist 5) is a frequent 
  traveler through Ilmwatch. He stays 
  for 
  varying 
  periods 
  of 
  time, 
  sometimes 
  just 
  passing 
  through, 
  sometimes staying for one or two 
  days, 
  but 
  there 
  is 
  always 
  one 
  constant: 
  he 
  always 
  stops 
  by 
  Aeleressa’s Sundries to talk to the 
  proprietor. No one knows what they 
  talk about, but Aeleressa is usually 
  unnerved and jumpy for days after 
  their discussions. Rumor has it that he 
  has some sort of dwelling north of the 
  Frozen Ford. 
  • 
  Ylaran of the Bladestorm (CG male 
  human Ranger 11/Tempest 2) is a 
  frequent traveler through Ilmwatch 
  with 
  the 
  other 
  members 
  of 
  his 
  adventuring group, the Six Eldritch 
  Riders. Ylaran is egotistical and self-
  serving, 
  but 
  is 
  also 
  a 
  capable 
  swordsman who always stands ready 
  to aid his friends. For some reason, 
  there is a deep enmity between him 
  and Reltharn, but both men seem 
  unwilling to speak of it. 
   
  New Magic Item:  
   
  Antimagic 
  Box: 
  This 
  small, 
  velvet-lined 
  wooden box acts as a small dead magic area 
  for anything within it.  
  Moderate 
  abjuration; 
  CL 
  11th; 
  Craft 
  Wondrous 
  Item, 
  antimagic 
  field; 
  Price 
  198,000 gp. 
   
  Environs:  
   
  South and west of Ilmwatch lies Buzzard 
  Beak Harbor, a treacherous and weedy 
  branch of the Easting Reach. Pirates chased 
  by the Royal Navy turn into here to escape, 
  as they know the terrain much better than 
  the Navy does. It is filled with marine 
  hazards, like sudden shallows, sand bars, 
  and hidden fields of jagged rocks. Significant 
  portions of the harbor have cliffs for edges 
  instead of beaches, offering many narrow 
  clefts and caverns to serve as secret harbors 
  for ships. The area is so dangerous that 
  commanders of Royal Navy ships who enter 
  the harbor chasing a pirate ship, catch it, and 
  come out alive have a special award, the 
  Reefshard Shield(a two-point service[battle] 
  decoration.[Heroes of Battle]) 
   
  Encounters In And Around Ilmwatch: 
   
  This section contains information on the 
  composition of the armed forces in and 
  around Ilmwatch. Below, in Ranks and 
  Awards of Impiltur are explanations of the 
  ranks used in this section. The statistics 
  blocks used in this section use the new 
  format introduced in the Dungeon Master's 
  Guide II and Explorer's Handbook; this 
  format has been used in the Forgotten 
  Realms supplements Champions of Valor and 
  Power of Faerun. 
   
  • 
  Infantry/Cavalry: As described on 
  page 202 of the Forgotten Realms 
  Campaign Setting, typical Impilturan 
  land patrols consist of 20 or more 
  Warblade (Warrior 1). Patrols are lead 
  by Warswords (Warrior 3). A patrol of 
  Warswords consisting of 20 Warblades 
  and 1 Warsword has an EL of 7. 
   
   
  Warblade of Impiltur           CR 1/2 
   
  Damaran human Warrior 1 
   
  LG Medium humanoid 
   
  Init +1; Senses Listen +1, Spot +3 
   
  Languages Common, Damaran 
   
  AC 16, touch 11, flat-footed 15 
   
  hp 17 (1 HD) 
   
  Fort +4, Ref +1, Will +1 
  Speed 20 ft. (60 ft. mounted on light 
  warhorse) 
   
  Melee Lance +4 (1d8+3/x3) or 
  Melee 
  Bastard 
  sword 
  +4 
  (1d10+2/19-20) or 
  Ranged Light crossbow +2 (1d8/19-
  20) 
   
  Base Atk +1; Grp +3 
  Abilities Str 15, Dex 13, Con 14, Int 
  10, Wis 12, Cha 8 
  
   
   
  Feats Dauntless [Player's Guide to 
  Faerûn], Mounted Combat 
   
  Skills Handle Animal +3, Ride +5 
  Possessions Light warhorse, chain 
  shirt, bastard sword, lance, light 
  crossbow, 10 bolts, military saddle 
  Hook “I aim to protect my kin from 
  those would despoil and destroy them 
  and our land.” 
   
   
  Warsword of Impiltur             CR 2 
   
  Damaran human Warrior 3 
   
  LG Medium humanoid 
   
  Init +1; Senses Listen + 1, Spot +4 
   
  Languages Common, Damaran 
   
  AC 16, touch 11, flat-footed 15 
   
  hp 28 (3 HD) 
   
  Fort +5, Ref +2, Will +2 
  Speed 20 ft. (60 ft. mounted on light 
  warhorse) 
   
  Melee Lance +6 (1d8+3/x3) or 
  Melee 
  Bastard 
  sword 
  +7 
  (1d10+2/19-20) or 
  Ranged Light crossbow +4 (1d8/19-
  20) 
   
  Base Atk +3; Grp +5  
   
  Combat Gear 
  2 
  potions 
  of 
  bull's strength, 2 potions of cure 
  moderate wounds 
  Abilities Str 15, Dex 13, Con 14, Int 
  10, Wis 12, Cha 8 
  Feats Dauntless [Player's Guide to 
  Faerûn], Mounted Archery, Mounted 
  Combat 
   
  Skills Handle Animal +5, Ride +7 
  Possessions Light warhorse, chain 
  shirt, 
  masterwork 
  bastard 
  sword, 
  lance, 
  light 
  crossbow, 
  10 
  bolts, 
  military 
  saddle 
   
  • 
  Spellcasters in the Warswords: 
   
  Although spellcasters are somewhat 
  common in the Warswords, they do 
  not accompany every patrol (perhaps 
  only one out of every three patrols). 
  Additionally, spellcasters are present 
  when extra patrols are called upon to 
  aid other patrols in trouble. Below are 
  statistics blocks for a Swordmage of 
  Impiltur and a cleric accompanying a 
  patrol; add these to other encounters 
  with Warsword patrols as appropriate. 
  Note that even though the cleric is a 
  cleric of Torm, the statistics are 
  usable 
  for 
  priests 
  of 
  the 
  other 
  members 
  of 
  the 
  Triad, 
  with 
  no 
  modifications required. Spellcasters 
  accompanying Warsword patrols have 
  rank 
  equivalent 
  to 
  that 
  of 
  a 
  Warblade[Power of Faerun,Heroes of 
  Battle]. 
   
   
  Swordmage of Impiltur           CR 3 
   
  Damaran human Wizard 3 
   
  LG Medium humanoid 
   
  Init +1; Senses Listen +5, Spot +5 
  Languages Chondathan, Common, 
  Damaran, Goblin 
   
  AC 15, touch 11, flat-footed 14 
   
  hp 10 
   
  Fort +2, Ref +2, Will +5 
  Speed 30 ft. (60 ft. mounted on light 
  warhorse) 
   
  Melee longsword +1 (1d8/19-20) 
  Ranged light crossbow +2 (1d8/19-
  20) 
   
  Base Atk +1; Grp +1 
  Combat Gear wand of magic missile 
  (caster level 3rd) 
   
   Base Atk +3; Grp +5 
  Wizard Spells Prepared (CL 3rd): 
  2nd (2/day): mirror image, scorching 
  ray; 1st (3/day): color spray, mage 
  armor (already cast), magic missile; 0 
  (4/day): electric jolt (x2), ray of frost 
  (x2) 
  Abilities Str 10, Dex 12, Con 13, Int 
  15, Wis 14, Cha 8 
  Feats 
  Combat 
  Casting, 
  Militia 
  [Player's Guide to Faerûn], Mounted 
  Combat, Scribe ScrollB 
  Skills Concentration +7, Knowledge 
  (arcana) +8, Spellcraft +8  
  Possessions combat gear plus light 
  warhorse, 
  bastard 
  sword, 
  light 
  crossbow, 10 bolts, military saddle, 
  spellbook, spell component pouch 
  Spellbook Spells prepared plus 1- 
  expeditious retreat, shield, shocking 
  grasp; 0- all others 
  Hook “I take up the Art for the ones I 
  love.” 
   
   
  Anduran of Torm                     CR 3 
  [Note: Anduran is a Tormish title, not 
  a name. See Faiths & Avatars.] 
   
  Damaran human Cleric 3 
  
   
   
  LG Medium humanoid 
   
  Init -1; Senses Listen +2, Spot +2  
   
  Languages Common, Damaran 
   
  AC 14, touch 9, flat-footed 14 
   
  hp 25  
   
  Fort +4, Ref +0, Will +5 
  Speed 20 ft. (60 ft. mounted on light 
  warhorse) 
  Melee masterwork greatsword +6 
  (2d6+3/19-20) 
  Ranged light crossbow +1 (1d8/19-
  20) 
   
  Base Atk +2; Grp +4 
  Combat Gear wand of cure light 
  wounds 
  Cleric Spells Prepared (CL 3rd): 2 
  (2+1/day)-aidDG, silence, status; 1 
  (3+1/day)-bane, bless, deathwatch, 
  protection from evilDG; 0 (4/day)-
  guidance, light, resistance, virtue  
  D: Domain spell. G: Good spell (+1 
  CL) L: Law spell (+1 CL) Domains: 
  Good and Law 
  Abilities Str 15, Dex 8, Con 12, Int 
  10,Wis 15, Cha 12 
  Feats 
  Combat 
  Casting, 
  Militia 
  [Player's Guide to Faerûn], Weapon 
  Focus (greatsword) 
  Skills Concentration +6, Heal +7, 
  Knowledge (religion) +5 
  Possessions 
  combat 
  gear 
  plus 
  masterwork 
  greatsword, 
  light 
  crossbow, 10 bolts, light warhorse, 
  military saddle, holy symbol of Torm, 
  and chain shirt 
  Hook “I keep this land free for 
  Impiltur and the Loyal Fury.” 
   
  • 
  Royal Navy of Impiltur: There are 
  two preexisting systems for ships and 
  naval combat in 3rd edition Dungeons 
  and Dragons: One in the Arms and 
  Equipment Guide, one in Stormwrack. 
  Information on the Royal Navy using 
  both systems follows, then statistics 
  for Royal Navy crews. 
  • 
  Arms and Equipment Guide: The 
  Royal Navy uses caravels (statistics as 
  sailing ships) and galleons (statistics 
  as 
  warships). 
  Consider 
  the 
  appropriateness 
  of 
  magical 
  augmentations for a warship in the 
  Realms; for example, no Royal Navy 
  warship will have an earth keel or 
  planar sails. 
  • 
  Stormwrack: The Royal Navy uses 
  caravels and galleys (Careful reading 
  of Pirates of the Fallen Stars will 
  reveal some conflicting information on 
  the ships of Impiltur; treat that as the 
  correct information and the concepts 
  set 
  out 
  in 
  Stormwrack 
  as 
  just 
  statistics.) Note that smokepowder is 
  used in the Realms, as discussed 
  under “Gunpowder?” on page 104. For 
  more information on smokepowder in 
  the Realms, see Forgotten Realms 
  Adventures, the Forgotten Realms 
  Campaign 
  Setting, 
  and 
  Magic 
  of 
  Faerûn. 
  • 
  Royal 
  Navy 
  Crews: 
  The 
  exact 
  number of crew on board any ship is 
  determined by the ship; for that 
  number, see either the Arms and 
  Equipment Guide or Stormwrack. Of 
  that number, a full 75% can be 
  considered Royal Navy Waveblades, 
  while another 10% is command staff, 
  including Royal Navy Waveswords, 
  who are directly above Waveblades in 
  position. Usually, a crew is lead by a 
  Seablade 
  (who 
  is 
  above 
  the 
  Waveswords onboard.) However, on 
  occasion, ships are commanded by a 
  higher officer, like Rilaunyr's Warship, 
  flagship of the Sarshel fleet. Finally, 
  7.5% each is for priests and mages, 
  totaling 
  to 
  15% 
  for 
  spellcasters. 
  Statistics 
  for 
  Seablades 
  are 
  not 
  presented here, as they should be 
  individually created by the DM for 
  each 
  ship. 
  Statistics 
  for 
  naval 
  spellcasters are not presented here, 
  either, as they are similar enough to 
  the 
  Swordmage 
  of 
  Impiltur 
  and 
  Anduran of Torm presented above 
  that such statistics would largely be 
  repeated 
  information. 
  For 
  the 
  purposes of commander rating, see 
  table 2-1 in Power of Faerun; consider 
  Waveblades 
  to 
  be 
  equivalent 
  to 
  Warblades, 
  Waveswords 
  to 
  be 
  equivalent 
  to 
  Warswords, 
  and 
  Seablades to be equivalent to Vigilars. 
   
   
   
  
   
   
  Waveblade of Impiltur            CR 1 
   
  Damaran human Warrior 1/Expert 1 
   
  LG Medium humanoid 
   
  Init +1; Senses Listen +5, Spot +5 
   
  Languages Common, Damaran 
   
  AC 13, touch 11, flat-footed 12 
   
  hp 17 (2 HD) 
   
  Fort +4, Ref +1, Will +3 
   
  Speed 30 ft. 
  Melee 
  Bastard 
  sword 
  +4 
  (1d10+2/19-20) or 
  Ranged Light crossbow +2 (1d8/19-
  20) 
   
  Base Atk +1; Grp +3 
  Abilities Str 15, Dex 13, Con 14, Int 
  10, Wis 12, Cha 8 
  Feats Dauntless [Player's Guide to 
  Faerûn], 
  Skill 
  Focus 
  (Profession 
  [sailor]) 
  Skills Jump +7, Profession (sailor) 
  +7, Swim +7, Use Rope +5 
  Possessions Leather armor, bastard 
  sword, light crossbow, 10 bolts 
  Hook “What better way to defend a 
  land than to guard its borders?” 
   
   
   
  Wavesword of Impiltur           CR 1 
   
  Damaran human Warrior 2/Expert 2 
   
  LG Medium humanoid 
   
  Init +1; Senses Listen +6, Spot +6 
   
  Languages Common, Damaran 
   
  AC 13, touch 11, flat-footed 12 
   
  hp 25 (4 HD) 
   
  Fort +5, Ref +1, Will +5 
   
  Speed 30 ft. 
  Melee 
  Bastard 
  sword 
  +6 
  (1d10+2/19-20) or 
  Ranged Light crossbow +4 (1d8/19-
  20) 
   
  Base Atk +3; Grp +5 
  Abilities Str 15, Dex 13, Con 14, Int 
  10, Wis 12, Cha 8 
  Feats Acrobatic, Dauntless [Player's 
  Guide 
  to 
  Faerûn], 
  Skill 
  Focus 
  (Profession [sailor]) 
  Skills Jump +11, Profession (sailor) 
  +8, Swim +9, Tumble +3, Use Rope 
  +6 
  Possessions Leather armor, bastard 
  sword, 
  light 
  crossbow, 
  10 
  bolts
   
  
   
  !
  The Seven Scrolls of Nuthmerkuld 
  By Jared Rascher 
  (Illustrated by Tiziano Baracchi) 
   
  “Orc magic?  You mean what they steal from other races to hurl back upon them with glee?  Or 
  the foul prayers that their odious gods grant unto them at the conclusion of their grunting, 
  squealing supplications?  The only fear an orc should generate is when one faces a horde of the 
  misbegotten beasts, with their pitiful adepts bringing up the rear, waving their fetishes and 
  trinkets in the air.  I'm far more concerned with their war leaders than with their so-called ‘Art,’” 
   
  Tythreanel Snowgem, 
  Former moon elf ranger, currently serving as a zombie in the orog necromancer Phroscheck's horde.   
   
  * * * * 
   
  his collection of spells is 
  found on a series of seven 
  scrolls, bound at the top to a 
  polished bone that has been 
  lacquered black.  The ends 
  of the bone are capped in 
  bronze aged to a green hue, 
  with the symbol of Gruumsh stamped in 
  platinum on each end. 
   
  The scrolls are made of a material that 
  appears to be some kind of cured leather. 
  Rather than having been written in ink, the 
  runes and writing on the scrolls were 
  magically seared into the material.  The 
  letters and characters are very easily read, 
  due to this precision. 
   
  While all of the spells found on the scrolls are 
  arcane in nature, the first scroll contains a 
  prayer to Gruumsh written in the orc tongue, 
  proclaiming that all that is good and powerful 
  that comes to orc-kind comes from the One 
  Eye. 
   
  The next scroll details the responsibilities of 
  an orc who has been blessed with the Art. 
  Such an orc is charged to go forth and train 
  other orcs, so that they may serve as support 
  for the grand orc armies that will sweep 
  forth, erasing the stain of elves and dwarves, 
  and enslaving the humans and other races. 
   
  The remaining five scrolls contain several 
  spells.  The spells on these scrolls are:  
  Clearstone, Ebon Ray of Doom, Toothed 
  Tentacle  (all found in Lost Empires of 
  Faerûn), 
  Ball 
  Lightning, 
  Cloud 
  of 
  Bewilderment (both found in the Player's 
  Guide to Faerûn), Summon Monster, True 
  Strike, Acid Arrow, Touch of Idiocy, Heroism, 
  Rage, Stoneskin, Fireshield, Dream  (all 
  standard Player's Handbook spells).  The final 
  scroll contains the following unique spells:  
  Ahrlagrog's 
  Weeping, 
  Broken 
  Fury, 
  and 
  Xhurluorn's Battlemist, detailed below. 
   
  The Seven Scrolls of Nuthmerkuld were last 
  seen in the possession of the half-orc wizard 
  Turlban of the Brutal Spell, a member of the 
  adventuring band known as the Throne 
  Breakers. After the group had scoured 
  several ruins in Thar, they traveled to the 
  city of Mulmaster, intending to find rest. 
  While there, Turlban turned on his fellow 
  adventurers. .  The inn where the group had 
  been staying was leveled, and those that 
  knew of the band were surprised that the 
  generally good-natured half-orc would turn 
  on his fellows. Those observers also noted 
  that after this betrayal, the half-orc wielded 
  magic he’d not been seen using before.  
  Turlban disappeared soon after the deaths of 
  his former friends. Where Turlban went is 
  unknown, but he was observed clutching the 
  scrolls that he had found in Thar. 
   
  Sages know that the Seven Scrolls of 
  Nuthmerkuld take their name from the orc 
  lich Nuthmerkuld. What is not common 
  knowledge is that the unusual spell-tome 
  itself is Nuthmerkuld’s phylactery.  While he 
  
   
   
  takes a great risk in allowing the scroll to 
  circulate, as long as its true nature never 
  becomes common knowledge, Nuthmerkuld 
  is content to play the game he has set in 
  motion. 
   
  Whenever someone of orcish blood and 
  arcane talent finds the scroll, Nuthmerkuld 
  appears to them in their dreams, night after 
  night, trying to convince them that they 
  should return to Thar to learn even more 
  magical secrets at the feet of the lich himself.  
  After the holder’s first week possessing the 
  scrolls, Nuthmerkuld can,  during his dream 
  vision, cast a Charm Person spell.  After a 
  second week in possession of the scrolls, 
  Nuthmerkuld can cast a Suggestion spell on 
  the holder.  Finally, after the holder has held 
  the scrolls in their possession for three 
  weeks, Nuthmerkuld can cast a Domination 
  spell during the dream vision.  All of these 
  enchantments will call the orcish spellcaster 
  to return to Thar, and further dream visions 
  will lead the mage to Nuthmerkuld's lair. 
   
  If any arcane spellcaster without orcish blood 
  retains the scrolls for more than one tenday, 
  Nuthmerkuld will use his phylactery to scry 
  on the caster and his companions. His goal 
  will be to get a good idea of the party's 
  power, and to ascertain what kind of threat 
  they may pose.  If they appear too powerful, 
  Nuthmerkuld will simply summon the scroll 
  back to himself, planting it somewhere else 
  in Thar, to be found by another, more pliable 
  adventurer.  If the caster and his 
  companions appear weak enough to 
  attack, Nuthmerkuld will wait for 
  an 
  opportune 
  moment 
  before 
  teleporting to their location and 
  initiating an attack. 
   
   
  Nuthmerkuld         CR14 
  Male Orc Lich Wizard 12 
  NE 
   
  Medium 
  Undead 
  (Augmented Humanoid) 
  Init 5 (+1 Dex, +4 Improved 
  Initiative); Senses darkvision 
  60 ft.; Listen +14, Spot +16 
  Aura Fear[MM 167],60 ft, Will DC 15
  Languages Common, Orc, Giant, Gnoll, 
  Undercommon 
  AC 16, touch 11, flat-footed 15 
  hp 82 (12HD) 
  Immune to cold, mind affecting, electricity 
  and polymorph  
  Fort +4 Ref +5 Will +9 
   
  Speed 30 ft.  (6 squares) 
  Melee touch +8 (1d8+5 negative energy 
  plus paralysis) or +2 dire flail +10/+5 
  (1d8+4, x2) 
  Space 5 ft.; Reach 5 ft. 
  Base Atk +6; Grp +8 
  Atk Options paralyzing touch, fear aura, 
  damaging touch, negative energy touch 
  Special Atk damaging touch, fear aura and 
  paralyzing touch 
  Wizard Spells Memorized (CL 12, +8 
  melee touch, +7 ranged touch)  
  6th – Xhurluorn's Battlemist, Ahrlagrog's 
  Weeping 
  5th – ball lightning, cone of cold (2) 
  4th – fire shield, ebon ray of doom (2) 
  3rd – fireball (2), lightning bolt, heroism, 
  rage 
  2nd – bull's strength, daze monster, toothed 
  tentacle, shatter, cloud of bewilderment 
  1st 
  – 
  true 
  strike, 
  expeditious 
  retreat, 
  obscuring 
  mist, 
  ray 
  of 
  enfeeblement, 
  summon monster I 
  0 – acid splash, arcane mark, detect magic 
   
  Abilities Str 
  14, Dex 13, Con 0, Int 17, 
  Wis 12, Cha 
  8 
  SQ 
  darkvision 
  60 
  ft., 
  immunity to cold, mind 
  affecting, 
  electricity 
  and polymorph, light 
  sensitivity, 
  undead 
  traits, 
  turn 
  resistance 
  +4 and familiar 
   
  Feats Alertness, Brew Potion, Craft 
  Wand, Craft Wondrous Item, Exotic 
  Weapon Proficiency  (Dire Flail),  
  Improved Initiative, Scribe Scroll, 
  Spell Penetration 
   
  Skills Bluff +11 (+4 ranks, 
  -1 cha, +8 racial), Hide 
  +12 (+3 ranks, +1 Dex, 
  +8 racial), Jump +7 (+2 Str, +5 
  competence), Knowledge (Arcana) +17 
  (+14 ranks, +3 Int), Listen +14 (+3 ranks, 
  +1 Wis, +8 racial, +2 alertness), Move 
  Silently +19 (+7 ranks, +1 Dex, +8 racial, 
  +3 familiar), Search +15 (+4 ranks, +3 Int, 
  +8 racial), Spellcraft +14 (+9 ranks, +3 Int, 
  
   
  +2 synergy), Spot +16 (+5 ranks, +1 Wis, 
  +8 racial, +2 alertness). 
   
  Possessions +2 dire flail, ring of jumping, 
  potion of invisibility, 11 pp, 8 gp, 8 sp, 9 cp, 
  7620 gp in other assets. 
   
  Fear Aura (Su): Nuthmerkuld is shrouded in 
  a dreadful aura of death and evil. Any 
  creature with fewer than 5 HD in a 60-foot 
  radius that looks at Nuthmerkuld must 
  succeed on a DC 15 Will save or be affected 
  as though by a fear spell (CL 12). A creature 
  that successfully saves cannot be affected 
  again for 24 hours. The save DC is Charisma-
  based. 
   
  Paralyzing Touch (Su): Any living creature 
  that Nuthmerkuld hits with his touch attack 
  must succeed on a DC 15 Fortitude save or 
  be permanently paralyzed. Remove paralysis 
  or any spell that can remove a curse can free 
  the victim. The effect cannot be dispelled. 
  Anyone paralyzed by Nuthmerkuld seems 
  dead, though a DC 20 Spot check or a DC 15 
  Heal check reveals that the victim is still 
  alive. 
   
  Light Sensitivity (Ex): Orcs are dazzled in 
  bright sunlight or within the radius of 
  daylight spell. 
   
  Undead Traits: Nuthmerkuld is immune to 
  mind-affecting effects, poison, sleep effects, 
  paralysis, stunning, disease, death effects, 
  and any effect that requires a Fortitude save 
  unless it also works on objects or is 
  harmless. He is not subject to critical hits, 
  nonlethal damage, ability damage to his 
  physical ability scores, ability drain, energy 
  drain, fatigue, exhaustion, or death from 
  massive damage. He cannot be raised, and 
  resurrection works only if he is willing. 
  Darkvision 60 ft. 
   
  Nuthmerkuld`s bat  familiar: hp 41 
   
   
   
  Ahrlagrog's Weeping 
   
  Necromancy  (Evil) 
  Level:  Sor/Wiz  6 
  Components:  V, S, M 
  Casting Time:  1 standard action 
  Range:  Close  (25 ft. + 5ft./2 levels) 
  Target:  One living creature, see text 
  Duration:  1 round/level, max 15 rounds 
  Saving Throw:  Fortitude negates 
  Spell Resistance:  Yes 
   
  When cast upon a target creature, this spell 
  causes blindness (as per the spell) and 1d4 
  points of damage per round from the 
  bleeding tears that flow from the target's 
  tear ducts.  Eyeless creatures or those with 
  no blood are immune to this spell.  This spell 
  lasts for one round per level of the caster, to 
  a maximum of 15 rounds.   
   
  The target of the spell may elect to staunch 
  the flow of blood from their eyes, taking a 
  full round action to do so. For each round 
  that 
  they 
  spend 
  a 
  full 
  round 
  action 
  staunching the blood flow, they do not take 
  the normal 1d4 points of damage.  Should 
  they take any other actions, the blindness 
  and damage resumes. 
   
  The material component for this spell is the 
  eye of any sentient humanoid creature, and a 
  drop of blood from the same creature. 
   
   
   
  Broken Fury 
   
  Necromancy  (Evil) 
  Level:  Sor/Wiz  4 
  Components:  V, S, M 
  Casting Time:  1 standard actions 
  Range:  Long  (400 ft. + 40 ft./level) 
  Area:  20 ft. radius spread 
  Duration:  Instantaneous 
  Saving Throw:  Reflex half 
  Spell Resistance:  Yes 
   
  This 
  spell 
  converts 
  and 
  augments 
  the 
  residual necromantic energies inherent in an 
  undead creature, causing it to explode 
  outward, striking everything in a 20-foot 
  radius.  This explosion does 1d6 points of 
  damage per caster level. Half of this damage 
  is magical damage; the other half is physical 
  
   
   
  damage caused by the impact of undead 
  body parts. 
   
  The material component for this spell is an 
  undead creature created by the caster. The 
  chosen undead must have less than 25% of 
  its total hit points left.  The caster may use 
  the spell on an undead creature that he has 
  created that has been destroyed, so long as 
  the creature has not been destroyed for more 
  than two rounds. 
   
  Xhurluorn's Battlemist 
   
  Level:  Sor/Wiz  6 
  Casting Time:  1 full round action 
  Duration:  1 min/level 
   
  As cloudkill (PH p210), except that the cloud 
  automatically parts around any creatures of 
  the same species as the caster, leaving 
  squares they occupy free of the cloud.
  !
  !
  
   
  !
  !
  The Feast of the Moon - its observance in the Sunset Vale 
  By J P Hazelhoff 
   
   
  Well met, fellow scribes and learned scholars! 
   
  Allow me to introduce myself. I am Rikos Dughol, late of Saradush, in Tethyr. I have been 
  traveling across Faerûn, at least across the regions known as the Western Heartlands and the 
  North, as an apprentice scribe with my master Brin Orgul. 
   
  During my travels, I have kept a journal of the places I have visited and things I have seen. As I 
  retrieve and edit these journal entries while staying in Candlekeep, I will make them available for 
  all to read. My journal might resemble the works of Volothamp Geddarm, whose writings I came 
  across during my studies, but are by no means copies of his excellent work, which has served as a 
  wonderful source of inspiration. 
   
  Most of the journal has been written during those moments when I did not have to perform some 
  tasks for my master, or when I wasn’t occupied with the physical part of traveling. Because of 
  this, the entries in the journal may sometimes seem disjointed. Also, the entries might not be 
  published in chronological order; the pages were scattered during an unfortunate incident with an 
  overeager air mephit. 
   
  I hope that for the places I've visited, the journals will provide you as much insight as 
  Volothamp’s journals provided me. 
   
  Till swords meet, 
  Rikos Dughol of Saradush 
  !
  +!+!+!+!
  !
  !
  Journal of an apprentice scribe by Rikos Dughol of Saradush 
   
  19th Hammer 1371, Year of the Unstrung Harp 
   
  “Death is but a part of life: fear it not, evade it not, and view it not as evil. To fear death delivers 
  you into the hands of those who can bring death down upon you. Die with dignity, neither raging 
  nor seeking to embrace undeath. Do honor to the dead, for their strivings in life brought Faerûn 
  to where it is now, and to forget them is to forget also where we are now – and why.” 1
                                                   
  1 This prayer is the traditional charge of Kelemvor to his novitiates. Published in Faiths & Avatars [TSR9516] 
  
   
                                                  
  uring one of my first strolls 
  through 
  Berdusk, 
  I 
  had 
  walked 
  past 
  a 
  converted 
  mansion, which now houses 
  a temple to Kelemvor. I 
  found myself again in front 
  of the somewhat unusual 
  temple, this time to enter on an errand for 
  my master. He had written a letter to the 
  High Priest of the Judge of the Damned and 
  master of the Crystal Mansion: Death’s Hand 
  of Kelemvor, High Priest Sillisten.  
   
  Gray drapes depicting the scales and skeletal 
  hand of Kelemvor’s symbol framed the open 
  double 
  doors. 
  Upon 
  entering, 
  I 
  was 
  immediately greeted by a junior priestess. I 
  had not expected such a martial display on 
  any of the Lord of the Dead’s faithful, but this 
  red-haired woman was wearing a suit of 
  heavy armor, with a big hand-and-a-half 
  sword strapped across her back. Stating my 
  name and my mission, the priestess replied 
  with her name – Portia Coldspring of Baldur’s 
  Gate – and offered to take me to the High 
  Priest’s chambers. 
   
  After handing Master Orgul’s missive to High 
  Priest Sillisten, an elderly man wearing 
  simple ash-gray robes and a silver circlet on 
  his bald head, I retreated to the main foyer 
  of the former mansion to await a written 
  response. The room appeared as if no change 
  had been made since the building was 
  converted to a temple. The grand, sweeping 
  staircase 
  leading 
  up 
  to 
  the first 
  floor 
  remained, as did the marble tiling, but what 
  struck me as odd were the variety of oil 
  paintings, statuettes and other objects that 
  at first glance seemed unrelated to the 
  current function of the mansion or its 
  occupants. The whole atmosphere was rather 
  like… well, the grand mansion of a wealthy 
  merchant or noble. Upon closer examination 
  of the vases, the statuettes, suits of armor 
  and the paintings, it became clear that all 
  these objects were related in theme: the 
  dead. 
   
  According to the small copper plaques beside 
  them, the suits of armor belonged to 
  deceased priests. What I initially mistook for 
  vases were urns containing the ashes of 
  priests who had completed their time on the 
  face of Toril and entered the Realm of the 
  Master of the Crystal Spire. Going from 
  there, the portraits were also easy to explain 
  – depicting the same priests or Kelemvor 
  himself. Not all of the paintings were 
  portraits, and my attention was drawn to one 
  of those other works of art: a rather nice oil 
  painting of a cemetery. Rather than evoking 
  a sense of loss or grief, it actually conveyed 
  coziness and a festive mood. Not that the 
  cemetery appeared any different than one 
  would 
  expect: 
  simple 
  grave 
  markers, 
  tombstones, statues and small mausoleums. 
  It was the folk visiting the place that seemed 
  out-of-place to my perception. 
   
  Portia, the red-haired martial priestess, had 
  been silently waiting alongside. She noticed 
  my interest, or more likely my wondering 
  about the scene depicted, and moved closer 
  to me to explain. I will try to recall her words 
  here – the ritual is interesting enough to 
  ponder later. 
   
  The painting of the cemetery – allegedly the 
  old burial ground of Iriaebor – depicts a ritual 
  observed during the Feast of the Moon 
  between Uktar and Nightal, and it is a 
  widespread practice in the Sunset Vale. 
  According to Portia, the origins of the ritual 
  are lost in obscurity, but it was observed and 
  maintained by the otherwise macabre priests 
  of Myrkul for centuries, albeit in a more 
  reserved way than displayed in the ancient 
  painting. 
   
  It could be that the ritual has roots in 
  different events, one being the almost 
  universal observance of the Feast of the 
  Moon as the passing of autumn and the start 
  of winter. Another possible root is Talfirian 
  ancestor worship, and a third possibility 
  comes 
  from 
  the 
  fall 
  of 
  Ebenfar1, 
  the 
  Shadowking’s realm. Under Kelemvor’s reign, 
  the ritual has regained its original splendor, 
  and is once more a favorite period in the year 
  for family and friends – and for the 
  merchants 
  of 
  flowers, 
  and 
  crafters 
  of 
  ornaments. 
   
  For the last two days of Uktar and through 
  midnight on the Feast of the Moon, the 
   
  1 A little more detail on Ebenfar can be found in Serpent 
  Kingdoms [WTC96566]. The realm fell in 323 DR, the 
  Year of Miscast Shadows. 
  
   
                                                  
  inhabitants of the Sunset Vale visit the 
  graves of their family members. The two 
  days prior to the Feast of the Moon are 
  typically used to clean the graves and to 
  remove weeds from them in preparation for 
  the big day. During these days, families vie 
  with each other in a friendly competition, 
  decking their graves with more and bigger 
  flowers, and with more and longer-burning 
  candles. 
   
  The living do not come in deep mourning or 
  exaggerated piety, they come dressed to be 
  seen and to enjoy the generally festive and 
  almost magical atmosphere created by the 
  multitude of flickering candles. Some pray at 
  small shrines to a variety of deities, some 
  converse and joke – as if they were in a 
  Tankard House rather than a burial ground – 
  and others sit near the graves of their loved 
  ones, reading poems aloud or telling stories. 
   
  The upper classes in society – the well-to-do 
  merchants, and, in the case of Berdusk, the 
  self-styled nobility of the First Folk – use the 
  occasion to show off their wealth and taste in 
  fashion. While several of these folk have 
  crypts in the vaults of their mansions for the 
  important members of the family, they come 
  to visit the cemeteries to take care of the 
  graves of the lesser members. It is socially 
  unacceptable to avoid one’s duty during 
  these days. To not show up, or to lack in 
  taking care of the graves, invariably leads to 
  reprimands within the family and instant 
  gossiping about the potential reasons for the 
  neglect. 
   
  When I commented to Portia that the play of 
  candlelight on the structures of the cemetery 
  did indeed give such an otherwise somber 
  place a magical touch, she smiled and replied 
  that with the mausoleums and crypts, this 
  occasionally could be taken literally: the 
  bodies of the dead would sometimes animate 
  and attack the visitors. This is one of the 
  reasons that the burials presided over by the 
  priests of the Crystal Mansion – and in 
  general, all priests of Kelemvor in the Realms 
  – never include crypts or other ‘grand 
  structures.’ Instead, the dead are buried in a 
  simple muslin, or a ‘found cloth’ shroud (used 
  clothing, such as deceased’s own cloak, 
  tunic, and breeches, sewn together), to 
  return their bodies to the earth for ‘the 
  Endless 
  Cycle.’2 
  This 
  shroud 
  is 
  always 
  decorated with holy symbols to prevent 
  spontaneous rising as undead. 
   
  Guarding against these possible undead 
  disturbances is one of the tasks of the priests 
  of the dead, since Kelemvor took the mantle 
  of Lord of the Dead. These priests also 
  observe the rite of Deeds of the Dead3, in 
  which the greatness and importance of the 
  ancestors of those alive today is told in tales, 
  poems and prayers.  
   
  No grave is forgotten during this time. If a 
  grave would be unattended due to a lack of 
  living relatives, or because the relatives were 
  unable to attend, Kelemvor’s clergy will care 
  for the grave. As the Feast of the Moon 
  approaches, Kelemvor’s priests, often with 
  the aid of members of other faiths, look after 
  the no-longer cared-for graves. In this way, 
  they ensure that all the dead receive the 
  respect they deserve. 
   
  The red-haired priestess gave the description 
  of the whole ritual of the Feast of the Moon in 
  a casual, matter-of-fact way, giving me the 
  impression that this approach to respecting 
  the dead was the right thing to do. I must 
  admit that it did not sound reverential to 
  someone brought up in the highlands of 
  Tethyr. Not that the people of Berdusk and 
  the Sunset Vale do not take the observance 
  seriously! On the contrary, they believe in 
  some way or other that they are communing 
  with the dead, and that for a brief period in 
  the year, they are reunited with their loved 
  ones.4
   
  2 Burial ritual provided by Ed Greenwood on the 
  Candlekeep Forums [posted 24 Oct 2005] 
  3 Faiths & Avatars, page 86 
  4 The ritual as described in this article is based on the 
  observance of All Hallows Eve (Halloween), All Saints, 
  and the Feast of Souls (October 31st, November 1st and 
  2nd respectively) as observed in Hungary. [source: A 
  Country Full of Aliens – a Briton in Hungary by Colin 
  Swatridge ISBN 963-13-5371-0] 
  
   
   
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  on this project. 
   
   
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  Julius Petilla 
   
   
  The Hammer’s Stroke…………………………………………………. Kevin Liss 
  Laborers of Toril…………………..……………………………………… Scott Kujawa
  Folk of Faerûn: Portia Coldspring………………..……………..J P Hazelhoff 
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
  Carey Sauerbrun 
  Untold Stories……………………………………………………………….Chris Jameson 
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
      
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  Spellbooks of Faerûn….….…………………………………………….Jared Rascher 
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