Stories of Mortals and Immortals
An extensive view on churches and cults in Mystara
The purpose of this article is to give more depth to the Immortals and the religions of Mystara, and to the mortals who follow them. Even if the original D&D edition had two boxed sets dedicated to Immortals (the “Gold Box” Immortal set1 and the “Wrath of the Immortals” boxed set) and a fundamental fan work (The “Codex Immortalis” by Marco Dalmonte2), the matter is so vast that it was just outlined more than detailed. The two canon sets had more than 100 pages each on Immortals, artifacts, rules and planes and the Codex Immortalis has about 400 pages on Immortals, artefacts and pantheons, but all this material is focused on the descriptions of single Immortals and their powers, rules, domains, artefacts, paths to Immortality, other planes and dimensions, Immortal organizations, religions and pantheons.
This article will
focus on the mortals of Mystara who are, in most cases, the ones who
act on the material world on behalf of the Immortals, trying to do
their will.
As it would be impossible to examine the actions of
the many women and men who serve the many Immortals of Mystara in a
few pages, this article will show just some of them in a moment of
their lives, hopefully providing inspiration for Dungeon Masters who
have to imagine the actions and agendas of the Immortals and their
servants on Mystara.
Not all the Immortals mentioned in
canon products are present in this list but the ideas presented below
could easily be used in gameplay for any Immortal the DM may wish to
use.
In
the Real World the percentage of the population who consider religion
important varies greatly nation by nation, from almost 100%
(Ethiopia) to 16% (Estonia). There is also great variation in polls
about people who declare they do not believe in any god or follow any
religion, with percentages from 1% to 30% and over. Maybe more
indicative is the percentage of people actually attending churches,
which varies from 87% (Nigeria) to 8% (Russia). In a fantasy world
with existing Immortals, it is probable that a true atheist would be
rare, but there will still be a relevant number of people who do not
care much about religion and Immortals. Given the number of Immortals
in Mystara, religion will also be quite divided, and there will also
be a small number of people secretly following Entropic, anti-social
Immortals.
To provide DMs possible guidance to calculate the
number of followers an Immortal may have, see the examples below:
1 - Very religious nations with a dominant, monotheistic Church (such as Ylaruam, Hule or Rockhome), for each 100,000 inhabitants
Population Category |
% of the nation’s population |
number per 100,000 inhabitants |
Clerics of the main Immortal |
1% of the population |
1,000 |
Paladins or dedicated warriors |
1% of the population |
1,000 |
People who declare themselves faithfuls |
80% of the population |
80,000 |
People who attend Church |
70% of the population |
70,000 |
True faithfuls (including clerics and paladins) |
40% of the population |
40,000 |
Clerics of other Immortals, druids |
0,3% of the population |
300 |
Paladins or warriors of other Immortals |
0,2% of the population |
200 |
People who attend other churches (including previous two) |
10% of the population |
10,000 |
People who actively plot against the dominating faith |
2% of the population |
2,000 people |
People who do not care and avoid religion |
8% of the population |
8,000 people
|
Notes:
Glantri before the events of “Wrath
of the Immortals”
(WotI) should be in this category, considering Rad the dominant
religion. In this case, the number of people who declare themselves
faithful could be higher, but church attendance and the numbers of
true faithful much lower.
The category ‘People who actively
plot against the dominating faith’ should include followers of
Entropic Immortals (which could include intelligent undead) in
Law-dominated countries but followers of Law in Chaos-dominated
countries, or simply the faithful of an Immortal which is a bitter
enemy of the main one. The 10% of people who follow other Immortals
should instead be more neutral toward the main one, unless actively
persecuted by the dominating faith.
In Rockhome the numbers of
followers of the main church should be lower due to the presence of
gnomes following Garal, but also the presence of followers of other
Immortals could be significantly lower than in human nations.
A
nation such as Narvaez should fit into this category with Ixion as
the main Church, Vanya as the other Church and only 2% of the
population belonging to other cults.
2 - Medium religious nations with a dominant, polytheistic Church (such as Thyatis), for each 100,000 inhabitants
Population Category |
% of the nation’s population |
number per 100,000 inhabitants |
Clerics of the main Church |
1% of the population |
1,000 |
Paladins or dedicated warriors |
1% of the population |
1,000 |
People who declare themselves faithfuls |
70% of the population |
70,000 |
People who attend Church for mere convenience |
60% of the population |
60,000 |
True faithfuls who actually believe |
30% of the population |
30,000 |
Clerics of other Immortals, druids |
0,3% of the population, |
300 |
Paladins or warriors of other Immortals |
0,2% of the population |
200 |
People who attend other churches |
20% of the population |
20,000 |
People who actively plot against the dominating faith |
2% of the population |
2,000
people |
People who do not care and avoid religion |
8% of the population |
8,000 people
|
Notes:
Alfheim and the Five
Shires could fit into this category, even if the Elven and Halfling
gods are more a loosely allied group of Immortals than a true Church.
Karameikos is a particular case as it has two dominant churches,
the Church of Karameikos and the Church of Traladara. The first get
30% of those “who declare themselves faithful” above and
the latter the 70%, according to the ethnic composition of the
nation.
Any nation with a distinct pantheon of multiple
Immortals, such as the Northern Reaches, should fit into this
category.
Notes:
In these nations attendance of churches and interest for religion
should be lower but also competition and proselytism may be high
among the existing churches. There could be relevant regional
variation, for example Bettelyn is supposed to be a highly religious
Alphatian kingdom with an established main church.
In all kinds
of nations I have supposed that those who are really ready to spend
time, resources or even risk their lives to the benefit of the
Immortals are never more than 30% of the population, as this seems to
me a realistic approach. However that does not mean that this
relative minority will not be able to greatly influence a nation, for
example leading it to war, especially in time of crisis and/or if the
war is convenient to the dominant powers.
A nation such as
Darokin could fit in this category or in the previous one, or be a
middle way between the two, depending on how dominant the DM wishes
the Church of Darokin to be.
Adair was just a trader, he still thought of himself this way even now, with his own armed ship sailing the seas from Thyatis to Sind. There was nothing special about him, a Darokinian captain like many others, trying to save his cargo and his men day by day, and making a good profit if the winds and the markets were good. Except for the Whale Bone he kept under his clothes. Few knew about it among the crew and friends. The Bone was roughly shaped like a female figurine, but with hardly any detail. But with it, he could go anywhere in the territories of the Turtle clan, and ask anything. And all the Turtle people knew him by now as the Waverider. Since the day when Lady Ahmanni saved him from drowning, Adair has been her agent in the fight against the Tiger clans. He supplied weapons, he moved spies, he saved slaves. Anything. Because no one knew, but Adair’s life was now pledged to the Turtle Lady.
Most of the inhabitants of the Known World did not even know the place existed, or had heard of it only in legends. But the Prophet has been there and now he has guided his faithful Ghufran to that place too. The people of Arypt were not much different from the people of Ylaruam, in language, appearance and customs. At least some of them. In Arypt there were many people, from lizardmen to black men to rakasta, and many languages and customs. But Ghufran was optimistic about his mission. He was making good progress with the chiefs and their ships were good. Once, he was a bad man. No, he was an evil man. But this was his atonement. He would soon lead a fleet to the north, providing the Emir much needed allies against the infidel Thyatians.
It was incredible that she survived the Wrath of the Roaring Demon. The witch just could not stay dead. But Mesram was about to remedy that. He begged for bread and coins on the streets of Jafiria, these days. Most people ignored him. Some looked at him curiously, wondering if he was too stupid or too poor to find a magical cure for blindness, or if he was just faking it. A very few stopped to give him some money, and on very rare occasions, even offering advice about his condition. But Mesram knew he could never regain his sight in this world. But it did not matter. He was here to study the Palace and find a way to gain access to it undetected. Once inside, he would use the Rod during the Shadow time, and call forth the Sleepers under the earth. Then he would find the witch and this time both she, her cursed empire and her cursed people would stay dead!
“So, it’s
a little girl who can draw pictures” the Thyatian captain said.
“Not just pictures - the sergeant replied, nervously - they
move if you look at them for a while. They say her pictures can give
harmony and peace. People says she is an avatar of The Lady”.
“By people I suppose you mean the Alphatian subjects and by
Lady I suppose you mean their namesake immortal. So this girl is
really a tool of the rebels, and we should arrest her”.
“Sir,
maybe this is not very wise. The Alphatians really love her, I mean”,
the sergeant replied feebly.
“They must learn we are the
ones who rule now” the captain replied curtly.
The sergeant
tried to say something, but he knew he could never persuade the man
to listen. Many of his men were going to die today. If the Immortals
were merciful, maybe the captain too.
Llyr had the Papers in
his hands, he had removed all the traps and retraced his steps back
to the garden wall. He had succeeded! Now his family’s caravan
would be able to reach the mythical kingdoms beyond the Adri Varma
fearing no attacks, and quite some richness would shift from the most
important family of the city to them. It was exhilarating. He was
careless. He saw the crossbow first, the smiling captain holding it,
then he heard the snap. He had no time to think he was going to die.
The bolt hit him squarely in the chest. Llyr fell over the wall, to
the outside.
The captain called the other guards and exited the
gate. Alive or dead, he would take the thief and bring him to the
magistrate, to prove how inviolable the great Merchant House he was
proud to guard actually was. When he reached the street however there
was no trace of the thief. The captain watched the cobblestones,
befuddled and incredulous.
Llyr was a couple of streets away,
kissing his steel moon medallion which stopped the dart. The Moon
Prince clearly was amused by him, and Llyr knew he should use this
favor to the most gain of his House.
Among the peasants of
Almarron the stories said they were once citizens of proud and strong
empires, destroyed long ago by humanoid invasions. Now they were
mostly subjects of the Espan lords and knights. They had named him
Miguel, but he preferred his original name now, Mitzinn. He was a
priest now and he no longer feared any lord or knight. Since when
Lord Atruatzin appeared to him he had become a symbol of hope for his
people.
But now he was pursuing something else, a man descended
from the ancient Oltecs like himself, a son of the people who was
becoming powerful and famous. But Lord Atruatzin had sent a dream to
him, with a warning about the dangers of this man, who had chosen to
serve a dark Immortal, the sworn enemy of his patron. The man was
going around, village by village, from Guadalante to Saragòn
to Cimarròn, saying he had found a powerful artefact. Some
said it was the Mannequin, the famed statue of Ixion. Mitzinn had not
much love for the sun god, once the patron of his people, but whom
had clearly sided with the Espan invaders many years ago. Yet the
omen sent by Lord Atruatzin suggested this man should not have any
artefact. He had finally tracked him down in a tiny village north of
Paso Dorado. He was apparently arranging for a guide to the north,
claiming he could persuade the Gosluk goblins to side with his cause
with the power of the artefact. He had already found men desperate,
gullible or avid enough to help him.
But he had not accounted for
Mitzinn and his patron in his perfect plan.
For too long a time trolls were contained or even defeated by humans. This was because they were stupid and did not exploit their strength and their powers as they should have. Mograh knew this now, since her patron had lead her to drink the water and she had given the water to drink to others. Now they were less stupid too. Now they understood they should always bring water with them to extinguish the humans’ nasty fires. Now they were ready to take all the Trollheim hills back.
Atrukh was a runt, as a whelp, and only his mother, who was a powerful shaman, had saved him from death. She knew he had a destiny, even if Atrukh realized this only recently, as her mother was killed by humans long ago. Atrukh was not sure why he had received such gifts, but he surely knew how to put them to good use. He came out of the cave in the Mengul mountains, to where thousands of bugbears, chiefs, warriors and women, had gathered.. Hobgoblins, thouls and goblins were also present in large numbers. All wanted to see Bartziluth reborn. When Atrukh came out wearing the Shining Armour and raising the Black Morningstar, the astonished silence was soon followed by a huge roar. Atrukh smiled. He would soon lead the army south, and raze to the ground the castles of the damned knights.
Since she had departed Thothia to travel with her adventuring companions through the Isle of Dawn and Alphatia, Akhuna had learned much about the world beyond the prairies where she grew up. She had paid homage to Bastet since she was a pup, but she could not say she ever was a very religious rakasta. So finding the Claw in Arypt had been a real surprise. And hearing the voice telling her to travel to Southern Brun, even more so. Somehow, the goddess chose her. She did not know why, but she was willing to follow the dreams. Her companions had accepted it. She was not sure if they were just in awe of an Immortal leading them, or they just hoped for some great reward. But they were sailing to Brun.
It was unheard of, a
priestess of the Dragonslayer calling for peace and even alliance
with the Kingdom of Dragons. Most clerics indeed had refused the
whole idea. They had come to the gathering, nevertheless, because
they wanted to see the upstart priestess ashamed and defeated. But
she dared to call for a Trial by Arms with the High Priest. He had
accepted gravely, just because he was sure to win, and thought this
was just a way for their Lord to tell them something. When he fell
and was unable to regain his feet, he could not believe it. He
thought she was some trick of one of the dragon gods, but then he
heard the voice. All heard, clearly.
“Once Norwold was
besieged by dragons and we fought them and contained their immense
strength. But now they are not invading us. The invaders are the
followers of Vanya and the Church of Idris, and we cannot resist them
without allies. You will follow her, as I command”.
The
High Priest looked at the Prophetess and bowed to her, and all did
the same.
“What’s so
special about this man?”, Gwin asked his friend in the dark
street.
“He says men and women should be free and equal, and
many other things. He blames the Immortals rise to power for
accidents and ambition, and they do not deserve worship”, Yuri
said enthusiastically.
“So?”, Gwin replied with much
less interest, “the Immortals and the big merchants are still
our masters here and what can we do about that?”.
“Just
listen, and you will understand!”, Gwin said, leading his
friend inside the house.
She wrapped the silk
scarf around his neck, coming closer and closer. Her perfume was not
too strong, but he found it intoxicating nevertheless.
“I
just need the jewel”, she said in a whisper, “you know I
never ask for riches or power or anything else. But this jewel has a
magic I desire, and you can obtain it for me. It is not so great a
price to pay for all that I have done for you”. She smiled and
he nodded sheepishly, completely enthralled. Soon the wizard was on
his way to get the jewel.
Once alone, the thief opened her small
altar with the magical statues of her patrons. The plan was coming
into motion and soon she would be ready to strike.
Bjorn thought the
halfling was a bit mad, even if the other halfling and his human
companions said he was a sort of powerful, wise wizard. They had been
travelling in western Norwold for weeks, exploring old caves and
forgotten ruins, often containing nasty inhabitants, and to Bjorn, it
seemed all this effort had accomplished nothing.
Now they had
reached a sort of altar, deep inside a cave, driven away some damned
rust monster which ruined Bjorn’s best sword and the halfling
was getting all excited.
There was a strange black cup and from
it came even stranger black flames which emanated cold and not heat.
Maybe the halfling was a sort of wizard, Bjorn thought.
No one had ever heard such music before in that city, or maybe in the world. When the strange bird-like creature had come inside the inn, half the patrons had risen, weapons in hands, while the other half just stared in amazement. Lara was a wizard and was confident that she could resist charms and illusion, but the song seemed nothing of the sort. It just quietened everybody, and in the meantime narrated a story. A story about a people in danger and an evil warmonger chief who wanted to steal their secrets to use against innocent people. Lara really lost the details, but when the bird creature came to them she only had to look once at her companions to see they were eager to help her.
Otto had always been
good at his job. He was a legend on the western border, famed because
he had captured so many heretics against the Light of Rad and
Ethengarian spies. But this little man was driving him crazy. He
apparently had only a stick and was dressed in yellow, with a funny,
floppy hat. Yet he always managed to disappear into thin air and
shame he and his men.
He could not permit this anymore. The moment
before Otto was thinking this, and a moment later he was hanging
upside down, he did not know how.
“Big wizard is catch
now”, the grinning little man said in front of him. Otto
immediately began to move his hands. Then the stick hit him.
The dream had been
clear. The sign had been clear. The proofs have been irrefutable. The
priestess has called all the most important clerics of the cities,
and they were all now in front of her. “Our Lord has spoken”,
she said in clear voice. “the Viper and his followers have lied
to us and betrayed us. We will rise against them, in every city,
tomorrow”.
The priests and priestesses stayed silent. Some
were surprised. Some were outraged. Some were distressed and some
were terrified. But they would all obey her and their Lord.
She was following the man for weeks through the great plains of Brun. He was always surrounded by his people, but she was good at not being seen, and she moved only at night. Eventually she had a good shot, when he was preaching by the fire, telling his men he would have led them to glory the day after, destroying and pillaging the homes of their enemies. The arrow flew and the man did not have the time to finish his word. A great roar went up in the camp, after, but she was already gone.
The druidess had just
given birth and had her baby girl in her arms. When she walked among
the people, all went silent because no one was expecting to see her
standing so soon. She went straight to the man who was speaking and
he bowed his head slightly, but did not back down.
“We have
to surrender or we will be slaughtered”, he said.
“The
Mother will protect us”, the druidess said unflinchingly.
The
man was trying to be respectful but obviously he found it painfully
difficult to do so. “They have more men and better weapons, we
cannot resist and I do not see how all the power of the druids could
stop them”.
“You do not see”, she nodded with a
smile, then she ignored him and went to the last tents, looking at
the lightly forested hills beyond them. The enemy came out of the
woods just in that moment. The druidess closed her eyes. The sparse
trees rose, moving like rabid animals, slashing and grasping at the
enemy warriors. Her people were stunned as the enemy was, at first,
but soon they fired all their arrows as fast as they could. The enemy
rapidly panicked and fled, leaving many dead and wounded behind. The
druidess caressed her baby, and she made a little gurgle. The wails
of birth had stopped a while ago, and she seemed happy now.
The Hulean commander
was deep into the Unconverted Lands, as the Holy Men called them. The
damn Sendaryan forest was the name his soldiers used, and with fear.
The Church of Bozdogan had tried to establish full control on this
land for centuries without much success, despite what they said to
the people. Even the humanoid Janizary did not like to be here in
this part of the woods. The south was firmly in their hands, but this
region was another matter entirely.
The commander spoke again with
his guide, Hashum. The scouts had been with him for twenty years and
he was a good friend. He was the only survivor of a group who had
found a city of the reclusive Daendur elves and now the commander was
ready to strike at them, gaining a great victory and great favor with
the Master himself!
A few hours later he was tied to a tree and
all his men were dead or dying. The elves were killing the fleeing
survivors one by one. The commander had tears of outrage and despair
in his eyes as he looked at his friend Hashum. He could not believe
his eyes.
“Why have you betrayed me? We were friends! You
lived in my house and ate my bread! You married my sister!”,
the commander wanted to scream, but his voice came out broken.
Hashum
changed appearance in front of his eyes. The middle aged man became a
young elf, suddenly.
“I am a Daendur. I mixed with humans
to gain your trust and lead your army here, so that my people could
teach your Master a lesson”, he said calmly.
The commander
shook his head in desperate denial, but Hashum, or whatever his real
name was, just came nearer with a dagger in his hand. “This is
our forest. You are just an invader”, were the last words the
commander ever heard.
“What do you
mean with ‘defeated’? I understand all your men have come
back”, the Fort Commander said. The sergeant gulped
nervously.
“Without boots, shields and weapons, sir”
he replied.
“And how did you manage to lose all this
equipment and retain your lives?” the Commander asked, with a
tone which indicated clearly he considered the latter less worthy
than the former.
“There was a boy and a girl who offered to
stage a play for us”, the sergeant replied, gulping more
loudly.
The commander just stared at him. “A play?”
“Yes
sir and somehow we fell asleep during it which was very strange
because the play was quite good...” the sergeant’s voice
trailed off when he saw the look on the face of his superior.
The old gnome was busy. Knish was his grandniece and she was really bored instead. The old chap had been working on the “Great Earthshaker” since he was her age. And his father, and his grandfather. And Knish’s own father. All wasted gnomish lives lost on equipment of a remote past which would never work again. Knish was pondering if she should go away with an excuse or just go, when she heard the noise. Her grandfather said something about blessed Garal. And then the Machine rose.
Anton had no more
energy left to use. He knew he was doomed. The hobgoblins were near
and he would never be able to reach Nova Svoga alive. He was enraged
that the Huleans could win more than for the prospect of dying. Now
only the direct intervention of the Three could save his life. So
when the warrior, the priestess and the lupin appeared and saved him,
just when he laid on the ground waiting for a hobgoblin sword, he was
quite sure they were actually them, in the flesh. He rose to his
knees and prayed.
“What you are doing man? - the priestess
said - I’m all for devotion but the city sent us to find you
and it seems we arrived just in time. More humanoids could be coming,
let’s go!”.
“We are known as the Three Rascals
by the way, famous adventurers”, the lupin said.
Anton just
got to his feet and ran after them.
Gurk lay dying and he knew it. The humans were too many and too strong and he could not win, even if he fought fiercely and savagely as usual. He tried to rise but could not. He did not feel pain anymore, and understood this was not a good sign. The Shadow came near him and he could not see what kind of creature it was. “I cannot save your damaged body, but I can reincarnate you”. Gurk raised his hand toward the Shadow.
The elf released her magical darts, hitting the wyvern and his rider squarely. The man fell from the sky and his reptilian mount shrieked in agony and flew away. The elf looked around and saw that her companions were doing just as well. The battle had been won. Now that the Sylvan Realm was free again and elves were returning from all corners of Brun, their ancient enemies would soon face defeat.
Julio had spoken at
length with this captured cleric to decide if he was a heretic as he
appeared. Certainly his people, while claiming descent from the
ancient Oltecs, mythical ancient inhabitants of the Coast, appeared
quite uncivilized to Julio. Finally, he had decided to ask counsel of
his Immortal patron and received a simple answer: “He is
faithful as you are, follow him!”.
Julio could not ignore
the command. “Where will you lead me?” he asked the
strange priest.
“To ancient secrets that will change your
and my world”, the man just replied.
This strange world was
incredible for him. The sun was strange and the phenomenon the
natives called “night” was terrifying. No floating
continent of his world could create such a darkness. Yet he had to
admit, this strange world was the opposite of his own. There was no
other explanation but this. Now he had to try to speak with these
natives. He tried different languages.
“The lizardman is
speaking some strange language”, one of the men said.
“Is
he casting magic?” another asked, worried.
“Apparently
not”, the mage of the group said “but I may have a useful
spell to interrogate him”.
The dwarf was working frantically. The enemies of his people were coming fast and to finish the engine was the only realistic hope of survival they had. He took the oil and poured it into the automaton. The construct started to creak almost inaudibly, then it rose. The dark creatures arrived in the great room, but now the dwarf and his creation were ready to meet them.
With the greatest
caution, almost not daring to breath, the woman entered the house in
the dark of the night. She waited, crouched down and not moving at
all, until her eyes could see something. The baby was sleeping
peacefully. The book was, almost forgotten, here as predicted. She
rose and took it, making as little noise as possible. And in the same
way she exited the house. Shedid not dare to stop, but continued
until she was far away from the block. Only then she opened the
portal and went away. The High Priestess smiled seeing her with the
book. She checked it carefully and sighed in relief.
“It is
it. Good work. The boy will not read it and he will not get the idea
to become a time traveller”, the High Priestess said. “The
tragedy has been avoided?” she asked hopefully.
“For
now”, the priestess replied, “we will have to check the
new timeline”.
The voyage had been incredibly long. The ocean seemed endless. They had found many small islands, but few animals and so little water. Sedi knew some were saying behind his back he was mad, he was leading them to death and they should sacrifice him to the Lord of the Sea. But every night Sedi prayed to the Spider and he said he had a place for them. And finally one morning they found the place. All were silent and incredulous when Sedi set foot on the beach and the great spiders came. For a while, they feared the spiders would attack. But then they made way for Sedi, as if welcoming him to the new land.
The Duke had executed her son because, the Duke said, he was a traitor. The people had accepted this, at first. But then the old woman stood, day after day, in the main square, and spoke to people. The guards arrested her several times, but she always returned to the square eventually. After a while, more women came. They were mothers and grandmothers of people the Duke had killed. He had them arrested, but they always returned, and more came. Finally the Duke came to the square himself with a squad of crossbowmen, and he threatened to fire if the women did not leave. But the old woman did not move, and he ordered his men to fire. And this ended with the Duke shot by one of his own guards. The woman, however, told the people not to kill him. He was imprisoned in a fine room of the Palace. From the window, he could see the square.
The man had guided the Knights of the Law through the hills perfectly, helping them avoid dangers and monsters. So when the ambush came they were surprised, but did not suspect him. They had used magic to question him and the people who recommended him before. But they were deceived and defeated, and the man laughed as they lay on the ground, showing them the symbol of his god.
She was alone in the tent, breathing slowly, then she was in a cloud, a great imposing lupin in front of her. She knew he was her patron, finally speaking directly to her. “Tell me my next test, Lord, as I have retrieved the lance as commanded”, she said. “Unify the sparse lupin tribes of the plains, and forge them into one nation”, the great lupin said. “And if I fail?”, she asked. “The lupins will become stronger anyway”. “And if I succeed?”, she asked. “Then you will be seated beside me in the heavens as an Immortal”, her lord Malinois said.
The discussions were long and lasted three days. But the lead negotiator of the Sea Powers was good. He promised, he pleaded, he insinuated different things to the many participants, and he obtained much. Apparently much for his official masters, but secretly much more for his Lord.
The elves were tired and wounded. The group was now almost sure they were all doomed. They could almost hear the humanoids closing on them. The leader looked at the young cleric. He was tired too and the leader thought he had little magic left. But then the young elf rose with a strange light in his eyes. “We must go east now. My patron has a bridge waiting for us”.
He was caught on the ship and the captain was about to toss him into the sea, but he pleaded to his best ability, saying he had done it for his children, and they just put him to work. He had no children. Yet. Now that he was in this new city, he would soon get some new ones, and rebuild the community which was destroyed in the previous place.
She had led her people so far away she was not so sure of herself anymore. Her god had led them here, but were they going to peace or to war? They had escaped war and countless enemies already, so she was longing to find some peace. The hill was just another of the thousand hills they had passed already. But when she reached the top, she felt that this one was different. It was the last one. The great vale lay under her, peaceful and untamed. She knew this was the place her god had led them to.
The old man went to the palace of the provincial governor every day
to play a game of chess. They talked a lot about all topics. The
governor did not have many friends. He was convinced Shalim was a
friend. Only when the rebels stormed the palace and captured him, and
brought him to Shalim, the governor realized his friend was the
leader of the rebels. “How did you do that?”, the
governor asked.
“We played a game, I won it for my patron”,
Shalim answered.
Many had seen her
dancing in the night. She often appeared near houses where a malady
was killing someone. Some said the girl could save the sick, but
others said people disappeared after meeting her, and were never seen
again. Ludwig was still walking the streets in the night, his little
girl wrapped in his arms, because he had nothing to lose. Suddenly,
the girl appeared, black of hair, eyes and dress, but her skin pale
white. She stopped dancing to look at Ludwig, saying nothing.
“Please
Lady, save my daughter”, he said.
The girl spoke softly.
“Will you leave everything you know behind?”
“Yes”,
Ludwig answered.
The girl smiled, getting near and touching his
hand. “Come, you will not know sickness and fear in your new
life”.
The man arrived in the village and was given food and water. The people had little and they were worried they would soon have even less, as a powerful band of brigands was about to reach them. The elders were trying to persuade a young warrior to offer a tribute, while he insisted the village should fight back. The old man rose and pounded his stick on the wooden floor, making a dull noise that quieted everyone. Then he traced a rune in the air, and the shape became a bright form in the air, the rune of Thunder, and it moved until it rested on the arm of the warrior. “You will fight back and you will win, tomorrow”, the old man said.
The boy and the girl were walking in the forest, and it was getting dark. They were afraid, but they had no choice. The legend said the trees were alive and could help good people, if proper respect was shown to them and gifts brought. So they had come, with the silver leaves, and they put them on the big rocks, just as the story said. Nothing happened and night was coming, so they were on the edge of panic, thinking all was for nothing. But then a big tree moved near them, and two wooden eyes opened on its trunk. “What have you come for?”, the tree asked in a slow and deep voice. The boy and the girl looked at each other, then she started to tell everything. The tree listened, and more of them slowly moved around the clearing.
The man had climbed the mountain. He used some magic to do so, but it was still slow and painful to reach the top. But he had found the flying castle, as the book said. He approached it cautiously, but the bird-like creatures still stopped him before he was near, surrounding him with sharp lances. “I am here on order of my patron, to learn from your wisdom”, the wizard said. One of the faenare came forward to speak to him.
The tribe had won.
Their enemies had been defeated and most of them captured. The shaman
personally took down their totem and gathered the prisoner to see it.
“Your god failed you. I will tell you about a better god,
one who wants the gnolls powerful and strong, not brigands and
scavengers. Listen to me, and my patron will lead you to a new
life!”
Some seemed a bit interested, but most hardly paid
attention. The shaman was not disappointed. She had time, and she
would persuade them.
Akrus had always kept
his faith in the Old Man of the Sea, and served him faithfully. But
his patron was a mysterious and unpredictable god. He knew that. He
always did. So when the ship sank and the waves closed around him,
Akrus accepted his fate with just a small amount of regret and
disappointment in his heart. He prayed for forgiveness as the water
drowned him.
But he did not die. He awoke in a wonderful place
under the sea, and he was breathing water. Merrow floated around him
and one smiled at him. “Welcome to Undersea”, he said.
Akrus understood and smiled. His god had plans for him.
Unauthorized magic was prohibited where he was born, but he had studied it anyway since the stranger, long ago, gave him the book. It was just too fascinating and full of possibilities to ignore it. Eventually the priests had discovered and hunted him, so he was now deep under the earth, in a dangerous, dark and unknown place. He heard voices, and he could not help but wonder if he was going mad. But finally he saw a light ahead, and he followed it. The cavern was full of bright crystals. He knew he had arrived where he was meant to, since the day he received that book.
She was popular in the city, and crowds gathered to see her dance with fire. She made some money this way, and he was also often invited to private parties at nobles’ mansions. But it was just a cover to her. In the evenings and nights, she met with the other faithful of the Sacred Fire. Their number was growing, slowly but steadily, and soon she would obtain the Fire Ruby, and the city would fall to the Lord of Fire.
He had learned something from the book but he knew it was not enough. He could cast a few minor spells, hardly enough to be considered as an apprentice by any wizard. Besides that, in his home town there was only one wizard, who already had apprentices, and he did not care to teach him. So he had travelled far to the biggest city he knew, and asked around a thousand times until he found the small temple. It was quite unassuming and the door was bolted. The boy was about to leave, disappointed, when a middle aged woman came near him. “Do not worry boy, my patron told me you were coming”, she said smiling.
She had prayed. She had not much more to do in the bowels of the ship. But she was afraid no Immortal was taking notice of her. She was angry, and afraid, but she was chained and could do nothing to free herself. She prayed, hoped, slept, suffered hunger and thirst. But one day, at dawn, there was a great commotion above, noises and screams. She could not see much in the dim light, until the hatch was swung open, and the light of the coming day blinded her. Then someone hacked at her chain, severing it. She tried to look up in the light too bright. There was a boy in front of her dressed like a pirate. “My patron heard you”, he said.
The pursuers were very
near now. The ballistae of their ships were firing, and had missed
their sails only by mere inches. Saalia was not afraid, even if her
men and women were. She ordered them to sail right into the rocks,
and watched the wheelwoman, Eria. She nodded, confident, and for a
brief instant Saalia saw she was clutching the sail symbol around her
neck, a twin to the one Saalia was wearing. She did the same, then
looked to the rocks.
She laughed as the waves sprinkled her with
salted drops. Eria avoided the rocks perfectly while the ship behind
them had to turn completely to avoid them. They would never catch
them. Saaria and her crew now had the treasure and were getting away
with it.
The woman was
surrounded by people who spoke respectfully to her, in hushed tones.
She wrote continuously on rice paper and passed the papers on to
someone, who thanked her profusely. Anton looked at his guide
perplexed. “What’s with the scribe?”, he asked.
“She is blessed by Ganetra”, the man replied, “she
always writes the right answer to any question.”
“Any
question?” said Anton, thinking about what he wanted to know so
badly.
It was a cold land and these frog people had suffered in it, both from the climate and from attacks by more violent and organized neighbours. When they saw the misshapen being, they were likely to attack him, but then the creature created the magical lights, and spoke. They feared his magic at first, but then started to listen. The creature had power and cunning to lead them to strike back at their enemies and master their cold land. Slowly, they rose and gathered around him.
Many years ago, these men burned a village which stood in their way. Now, they have been dragged in chains down the streets, common people throwing garbage at them. They were powerful men just days ago, with powerful friends. But the judge has found such overwhelming proof against them that they had no friends now willing to testify for them. They did not know the judge was once a child in the village they burned, but she did not care. The only important thing now was justice.
The witch had cursed
the fields, the people said, and they could bear no fruits. The Duke
was furious, but threatening or whipping his tenants had no effect.
His fields were bare, while the fields of the churches and other
noble families were flourishing more than ever. He considered seizing
some of them, but he understood such an action would not have been
very practical, or wise. He had to find the witch and kill her, there
was no alternative. So he was overjoyed when the servants announced
that an important knight was bringing her to him.
The knight
entered the hall with the priestess, who was unbounded and defiant as
usual. “What this means?” the Duke asked.
“It
means the Council of Nobles has voted to destitute you”, the
knight answered. The Duke called for his guards, but none moved to
help him.
The room was in total darkness. The lieutenant of the guards wondered how that was possible. It was late afternoon outside and no blinds could keep all light out. He was suspecting magic and about to call the cleric, but then he saw that, strangely enough, the blinds had been carefully sealed with black wax. “What in the Abyss...” he was about to say, opening the blinds. The words died in his mouth as he looked at the scene. All the clerics and acolytes of the church were here, murdered and dismembered. The lieutenant felt sick, and had to run outside.
The group was tattered and tired and not particularly hopeful, as they feared enemies were not very far, and in front of them they saw only open sea. Also a girl was leading them, because she had a dream. In their desperate time, it seemed a good idea to flee as far away as possible. But now, where could they go? Then the ship appeared on the far horizon. They had never seen anything bigger than a canoe in their life, so it seemed a magical appearance to them. They remained still in awed silence until the ship was much nearer, then a small boat came from it, and they saw it was full of hin like them. They cheered loudly for the girl and their saviors.
It was a dull meeting in the Senate and he was supposed to agree to everything the Speaker proposed, so he was extremely bored. Soon it would come his time to speak, but he was supposed to pass on it as agreed. Then a valet came, bringing a yellow flower to him. The man took the flower and its scent made him remember what his mistress had requested to him. The Speaker asked if he wanted to say something, and he said yes.
The sieging army was coming in waves and the town was about to fall. Already an elderly man was coming to the wall with a white flag. Then the girl came. She was so young, yet she fought more bravely than any of the demoralized defenders who were ready to give up. She surprised several of the attackers with her speed, momentarily forcing them to retreat some steps. She obviously could not win the battle alone, but then the attackers rushed her, thinking she could be dispatched easily. But the defenders came in force to her aid, and the attackers were thrown down the walls.
The wolf rider and the black shaman were fighting in the field, and a huge crowd of their tribes was watching. The wolf rider charged and the shaman disappeared into a shadow. But the warrior turned quickly, throwing his spear just where the shaman was reappearing. The shaft entered into his belly, and the shaman fell into his own blood. The wolf rider dismounted and got near to finish him, and the shaman seemed already near death. But then, with a movement which looked like a spasm, he touched the wolf rider. The goblin dessicated like a mummified corpse in mere instants, among the gasps of the crowd. The wolf barked in rage and jumped to bite the shaman, but he hit him with a black dart, and the animal fell to the ground too, near his former master. The hobgoblin shaman pulled the shaft out of his stomach with hardly a groan, and the wound healed itself. The gathered tribes began to chant the name of Yagrai.
The general was sure the victory was already in his hands, and he could not believe his eyes when a flying castle appeared in the skies. He was quite sure his army had nothing of the sort, so he could not doubt the castle was here to aid the enemy. He sent wizards, clerics and griffon riders against it, but it was all useless. Soon the general had to order a quick retreat to save as many of his army as possible. He could not imagine how the enemy had obtained the help of giants.
The man was good with a torch, and he always gathered a large crowd around him. Many left money and many did not, because they were too poor, or because they were street kids. The man was not really interested in money, but he was very interested in charming the kids. He meant no harm to them at all, quite the opposite. He wanted to recruit them to the faith in his patron, and give them power over fire. The children loved this. So many already had come to him and learned they could be much more than beggars and thieves.
1Available in pdf format at the Dungeon Masters Guild http://www.dmsguild.com/product/17166/DD-Immortals-Set-BECMI-ed-Basic?it=1
2Here on the Vaults available both in Italian and in English http://www.pandius.com/codeximm.html. See also the Immortals section in the Vaults http://www.pandius.com/imm.html