Professional Documents
Culture Documents
The Adventurers Almanac (GMG4373)
The Adventurers Almanac (GMG4373)
The Adventurers Almanac (GMG4373)
Table of Contents
Introduction ........................................................................................p. 1
The Grand Course of Days Calendar ........................p. 4
1. Hardfrost ......................................................................................p. 8
2. The Shroud .................................................................................p. 14
3. Galehome .......................................................................................p. 23
4. The Bloom ...................................................................................p. 31
5. Drawblade ...................................................................................p. 38
6. Magusbirth ..................................................................................p. 45
7. Wealwind .....................................................................................p. 52
8. The Blaze .....................................................................................p. 61
9. Starfall .........................................................................................p. 67
10. The Reap .....................................................................................p. 74
11. Cofferfill .....................................................................................p. 83
12. Emberfade ...................................................................................p. 91
13. The Rime ......................................................................................p. 101
Appendix: Blank Calendar Page ....................................p. 111
I gratefully extend my figura ve hand to you for your con nued par cipa on in and support of our esteemed brotherhood (and now
sisterhood as I’m so regularly reminded by our fairer members) the Order of Adventurers, Explorers, and Treasure Seekers. Your
annual fees and regular thing of rumors, maps, and lore make it possible for the Order to support all our brave members in their
pursuits of wealth, adventure, and glory no ma er where they may roam. These generous dona ons also assist the Order in caring
for the less fortunate of our organiza on or those they leave behind.
The chapbook you now hold in your hands is another result of your annual contribu ons. As a member in good standing, your pay-
ment of this year’s dues en tles you to this complimentary copy of the first-ever Adventurer’s Almanac, a new endeavor by the Order
of Adventurers, Explorers, and Treasure Seekers. Here, between these covers, you will find a compete calendar of the year to come
annotated with important events, feasts, fes vals, and holidays. All too o en has one of our members perished due to a dearth of
knowledge concerning important annual events—the fate of Hogg’s Band a er deciding to plumb the Lich’s Lick during Dead Feast
springs to mind—and this calendar hopes to prevent such tragedies in the coming year.
In addi on to being a compendium of events both celes al and terrestrial, the Adventurer’s Almanac collects an array of current
rumors, known adventuring sites, recently unearthed treasures, and other informa on per nent to our occupa ons, all of which have
been supplied by members of the Order just like you. Each kernel of knowledge has been checked for authen city to the best of our
ability, but we hope you’ll remember that some of our brethren are wont to engage in exaggera on or hyperbole, so always keep
your wits about you and never assume such lore to be truthful un l verified by your own eyes. If this almanac is successful, the Order
will be looking to repeat its publica on next year, so please keep your ears open for new rumors, recently discovered ruins, and any
other useful lore you encounter on your expedi ons.
Good roads to you all and may Chance favor your endeavors.
Vester X. Reodotyl, Grandmaster of the Order of Adventurers, Explorers, and Treasure Seekers.
Another problem that plagues many a roleplaying campaign is game master burnout, a phenomenon that usually occurs because the
game master has exhausted his crea vity in coming up with interes ng adventures and new creatures, treasures, and magic to thrill
his players. It happens to the best of referees and is one of the hazards of taking responsibility for entertaining your friends around
the gaming table on a regular basis.
The Adventurer’s Almanac is intended to address both of these issues by providing the game master with a bevy of material to add to
his campaign, draw inspira on from, and use as adventure seeds to build his own exci ng scenarios. In addi on, the Almanac intro-
duces a generic yet interes ng fantasy calendar with which to organize his campaign world and help breathe life into the se ng. It
literally gives the game master an en re year’s worth of material for his campaign.
The Adventurer’s Almanac differs from most commercially produced role-playing game supplements. Within these pages you won’t
find many hard game mechanics or creature a ributes. Instead, this book provides the reader with adventure seeds, campaign color,
sugges ons for new treasures and systems, and other content commonly called “fluff ” by role-playing aficionados. Like the author’s
previous book, The Dungeon Alphabet, this almanac is intended to serve as a springboard for your own crea vity rather than a hard
and fast “this is how you do it” instruc on manual.
The material provided in this book is intended to be used with any fantasy role-playing system. To help assist the game master in
incorpora ng it into his own campaign world and rule set, the author has presented the informa on herein in a system neutral format.
Sugges ons for how to apply one’s preferred rules are provided and mechanical modifiers are given in a two-fold manner that can be
used whether your systems employs a d20 or percen le dice to determine success. As in all things in the game master’s world, he has
the final say on how to include the material in the Adventurer’s Almanac in his own campaign. There is no right or wrong way to u lize
the material of this book, so long as you and your players have fun. This material is yours to do with as you wish. Let your imagina on
run riot.
Although the author is aware that fantasy role-playing games are played throughout the world and that campaign worlds run the
gamut from the pseudo-historical to the totally outlandish, some concessions had to be made with the Adventurer’s Almanac to make
the most of the limited space available for new material. This book assumes the game master’s campaign takes place in a temperate
region in the northern hemisphere of a round world with a revolu on similar to that of Earth. The seasons, month descrip ons, and
many adventure seeds are based on this assump on. Some modifica ons may be necessary if your game occurs in a significantly differ-
ent loca on. Also, the various animals a ributed to each day are derived from a wide range of real creatures from various climates and
con nents around the world. Game masters are free to remove the names of any animal not typically known amongst the denizens of
their campaign worlds and replace them with more appropriate mundane and mythological creatures. The Grand Course of Days works
best when modified to reflect the world it inhabits.
The book also assumes that there is some large central body of government in your campaign world. For demonstra on’s sake, the
Adventurer’s Almanac uses the fic onal Aeternal Empire, a Rome-like imperial realm that has stood for centuries. Despite its size, most
events and adventure seeds situated in the Aeternal Empire can easily be relocated to any (mostly) civilized land with a stable govern-
ment.
The Grand Course of Days, was created by the chronologer Phutataes in the year now known as -6 GCY (Grand Course Years). Phutataes
based his calendar on a much earlier one whose origins lie with the Ineffable Ancients of the southern jungles. Phutataes combined this
calendar with the horoscopy of Ekkim the Strange, an astrologer best known for a ribu ng each day of the year to an animal spirit that
influences the events of that day. The result was both simple enough to be understood by common laborers and tradesmen, yet s ll
adequately grandiose-sounding to be used by nobility to record important events. In only a few years a er the unveiling of Phutataes’
calendar, it was formally adopted by the Aeternal Empire and is now in use in many other lands.
The Grand Course of Days is a lunar calendar, dividing the year into thirteen months with one day (and some mes two) which falls
between the years. A month is comprised of twenty-eight days, of which each is named a er a par cular animal as well as having a
numerical designa on. However, in daily usage, due to the sheer number of animal names, days are only called by the numerical desig-
na on followed by the month’s name, such as “the 11th of Drawblade.” Amongst sages, wizards, and hierarchs, as well as in legal and
royal documents, days are always given in a day name/number/monthly fashion, such as “Day of the Owlbear, 17th day of The Shroud.”
Weeks are not formally acknowledged in the Grand Course of Days, but are some mes used by the general populace. When so used,
they are called “faces,” which either refers to the changing appearance of the moon or is a corrup on of “phases.” An example of such
usage would be: “I’ll have payment to you by the second face of Starfall.”
Each year is separated by one or two days that occurs, for all intents and purposes, outside of the annual course of me and is not con-
sidered part of any par cular year. This period always contains one of these days, called “The Day of the Phoenix” or “The Day without
a Year,” which is used to plan for the year to come as well as having legal implica ons. Every four years, a second day is added to keep
the Grand Course of Days calibrated to the passage of me, much like a leap year does to our own calendar.
The Grand Course of Days is also associated with the alignment of the heavens and most cultures who u lize the calendar also use it for
astrological determina on, with dwarves being the sole excep on due to their predominantly subterranean existence. This astrological
system, along with a system for game masters looking to introduce it to their campaign, is presented in greater detail below.
Calendar Format
Each month of the Grand Course of Days is given its own chapter in the Almanac. At the start of each chapter a monthly calendar is
presented to give the game master an overview of that month’s events, much like the average wall calendar. Each day on this calendar
contains up to five useful pieces of informa on for the game master. Not every day contains this data, but the format in which it is
presented remains unchanged throughout the calendar. The informa on includes:
A) The day’s name, which is always prefaced with “The Day of the…”
A Aardvark when spoken.
B 10 Striding
C B) The numerical date of the day.
Tower arrives at
coast C) Any holiday or event occurring on that date.
T
D) The phase of the moon (if applicable).
D
(2/5)
E) That day’s equivalent in the Gregorian Calendar presented in a
month/day format. This is useful if the game master needs to make
an off-the-cuff es ma on of weather, temperature, or other seasonal-
based determina ons.
E
Following the monthly calendar is a short descrip on of each month that gives a broad picture of what life is like at that me of year
and the ac vi es that typically occur during this me. This descrip on is followed by an astrological précis covering the sign that gov-
erns that month (more on this below).
Due to space limita ons, the Adventurer’s Almanac only details special days that are either likely to affect professional treasure-
hunters or are weird enough to bring fantas c detail and adventuring opportuni es to one’s campaign world. These holidays should
certainly not be the only ones celebrated in your world; people love a good party!
The game master is encouraged to create many addi onal special days and place them within his own world’s calendar. No less than
one addi onal and unique holiday a month should be created, with a new one for each week being an even be er op on. They should
run the gamut from the ecclesias cal to the ordinary and from the solemn to the outrageous. No reason is too mundane or outlandish
to base a special day around; just look at our own real world holidays.
To get the game master started or if there is the need to suddenly create a spur of the moment celebra on, the table below provides
100 events or ac vi es that might occur during a feast, fes val, or holiday. Simply roll on the table 1d3 (or more) mes and combine
the results to determine what happens during the fes val. That should be enough to get the crea ve juices flowing or at least make
for an interes ng backdrop against which to carry out the session’s ac vi es. Game masters are free to ignore conflic ng results or to
build upon the conflict to create even wilder kinds of celebra ons.
Astrologers believe persons born during the year share certain characteris cs based on what constella on of stars was predominant in
the sky at that me. These individuals are said to be of the sign of that constella on. In the Aeternal Empire, there are fourteen such
constella ons spread throughout the year: Wolf, Wraith, Cat, Dryad, Soldier, Mage, Coin, Torch, Shield, Wyvern, Beggar, Witch, Bear,
and Dragon (although Dragon is not a true constella on but rather a single star that is most brilliant at one point in the year).
Each of these signs shares personality traits called either day traits (posi ve personality a ributes) or night traits (nega ve personality
a ributes). While not everyone who shares a sign has all of these traits or even some of them, enough do to make such gross gener-
aliza ons somewhat true. If a player or game master is at a loss to determine the personality of a PC or NPC, they can simply choose
any three of the six traits given for each sign below and use those as a star ng point. Note that some day and night traits are direct
opposites, so the game master or player should avoid choosing traits that contradict one another.
In addi on to these personality traits, those born under each sign occasionally possess certain quirks that either help or hinder their
journey through life. Each PC or NPC has a 20% chance of beginning play with one of these quirks. If the dice indicate the character
possesses one, roll a d%. On a roll of 01-60, the character has the posi ve quirk. On a roll of 61-00, he starts play with the nega ve one.
The game master can adjust these chances as he desires and the exact game benefits of each is le to him to adjudicate.
To find what sign a character is, roll a d% on the table below. Players or game masters who want to determine the birthday of the char-
acter can also roll a d% on the indicated month’s day-planner table or use a d4 to find the week of the character’s birth and a Zocchi d7
to decide the day of that week on which it occurred.
Hardfrost
Rooster Ant Ox Donkey Shrew Reindeer Gnat
1 Ves bule 2 3 4 5 6 7
Aurora
Terribilis’
First Appearance
(637 GCY)
(1/1) (1/2)
G (1/3) (1/4) (1/5) (1/6) (1/7)
Hardfrost
The first month of the Grand Course of Days, Hardfrost marks the middle of winter, a me when the northern lands are locked inice and
snow, and commerce and adventuring grind to a halt. Further south, the inhabitants crowd into cozy tap rooms or around their blazing
home hearths to escape the chill, and even in the tropics the temperature is balmy rather than sweltering. As the first month of the
year, Hardfrost is usually used to prepare for new ventures, a end to ma ers at home, and as a period of introspec on for those look-
ing to improve themselves in the months ahead. This does not mean that adventuring opportuni es cease to occur, but those seeking
fortune and glory may have to travel some distance to find them.
D% Roll Random Dates, Events, and Adventure Ideas for the Month of Hardfrost
01-04 1st of Hardfrost: Ves bule (see p. 13).
05-07 2nd of Hardfrost: A normally quiet volcano rumbles menacingly and produces gouts of purple smoke and silver ash. Great eye beasts hover
about the smoldering mountain’s rim, excava ng the rock with their deadly rays. They seek something, which is undoubtedly bad news for all
other races.
08-11 3rd of Hardfrost: The giant polar bear, Pale Doom, terrorizes Qusimaux villages. Legend says that riches beyond imagina on lie within his
glacial den.
12-14 4th of Hardfrost: Furred serpents are a acking travelers with almost diabolical cunning. Previously unknown in this region, these creatures
must be a new species, a magical crea on, or something that slithered in from another world.
15-18 5th of Hardfrost: A ye horde led by spell-hurling abominable snowmen lay siege to a remote castle. They demand the fortress be turned over
to their lord and master, the Haired Rajah of the Dead Night.
19-21 6th of Hardfrost: Avalanches in the mountains decimate winter elf villages, forcing them to come to the human lands seeking aid.
22-24 7th of Hardfrost: Aurora Terribilis (see p. 10) first appeared on this day in 637 GCY.
25-28 8th of Hardfrost: Weird of Wolves begins (see p. 13).
29-32 9th of Hardfrost: The last crystal wands (see p. 10) are forged on this date -11,278 GCY as the Kingdom of Kryhiss collapsed into open rebellion
and the wands’ makers perish in the conflict.
33-36 10th of Hardfrost: Wererats kidnap the Lord Execu oner’s daughter with the intent to infect her with lycanthropy unless he frees their impris-
oned leader.
37-40 11th of Hardfrost: Dead Moon Night (see p. 10).
41-43 12th of Hardfrost: The PCs wake up one morning, dead—or at least that’s how it appears. No one pays a en on to them, their efforts to draw
people’s a en on fail, and physical a acks pass through their bodies without effect. What happened? Just when all seems hopeless, one man
speaks directly to them and offers to introduce the PCs to a group who can help them.
44-47 13th of Hardfrost: Barbarians come to town with a never-before-seen creature encased in a block of ice. They reveal there are more where
they found this one and will direct others there for a fee.
48-50 14th of Hardfrost: Weird of Wolves ends.
51-53 15th of Hardfrost: Tanners’ Rest (see p. 8); The Tanners Guild announces they are seeking exo c hides to meet special orders and will pay top
coin to those who provide them with skins.
54-56 16th of Hardfrost: Pods of tanic whales have been driven south by the ice and are now a acking ships in the warm southern waters. Reports
say that scaly humanoids are seen swimming amongst them.
57-60 17th of Hardfrost: First ice eyrie (see p. 11) was encountered on this date in 127 GCY.
61-64 18th of Hardfrost: Treasure hunters spend the evening is a cozy inn compe ng against each another in various contests to win a map carved
on a piece of exo c scrimshaw. Some are poor losers.
65-67 19th of Hardfrost: Frost giants come to a remote northern village looking to trade exo c commodi es (mammoth furs, giant walrus tusks, ice
emeralds, etc.) or at least that is what they claim. Their mo ves may be more sinister.
68-71 20th of Hardfrost: The residents of an ice-bound manor begin dying of hypothermia in well-heated rooms. A vampire who subsists on body
heat instead of blood is the culprit.
72-75 21st of Hardfrost: Rime King’s Palace (see p. 12) raised with powerful sorcery on this date in 15 GCY.
76-78 22nd of Hardfrost: A ship from foreign lands blows ashore, its crew entombed in ice. Although it contains a few riches, the ship’s s ll living and
dangerous cargo escapes and begins to terrorize the locals.
79-82 23rd of Hardfrost: The last of the Ice Knights was laid to rest on this date in -3746 GCY He was buried in his Frost-Guard (see p. 11) armor. Many
s ll seek his ice-bound tomb.
83-85 24th of Hardfrost: Someone or something is impersona ng public figures, using their iden es to collect money, sow discord, and otherwise
tarnish the reputa on of these individuals. A reward is being offered for the culprit(s), but the PCs may find themselves vic ms of the scams
first.
86-89 25th of Hardfrost: Ice golems commanded by a mysterious, fur-clad woman tear down the walls of a fron er outpost and carry off the fort’s
winter ra ons and most of the armory.
90-93 26th of Hardfrost: Hearth fires around the city turn into infernos as fire elementals spontaneously appear in them. Who or what is to blame?
94-96 27th of Hardfrost: Po er’s Rest (see p. 12); Poltergeist run amok, destroying the Po ers Guild’s inventory during the celebra ons.
97-100 28th of Hardfrost: A notorious pirate plans to sail into the pack ice to find a legendary treasure. She needs brave souls to accompany her, but
will treachery or riches be their reward?
Aurora terribilis are enchanted crea ons and emit a magical aura that can be detected by the appropriate spells and methods. They
also radiate a faint nimbus of evil, which can also be discerned with magic or by those steeped in holy righteousness. This evil aura is a
byproduct of the aurora terribilis’ manufacture and true purpose.
The bo les, as beau ful and harmless-appearing as they are, are crea ons of the frigid demons that cavort on the cold northern winds.
Known by a variety of names (wendigo, Ithha, valkyrior, etc.), these fiends enjoy the taste of human flesh yet seldom encounter mortals
on the northern ice. To correct this paucity of meals, the demons cra aurora terribilis and arrange for them to infiltrate the southern
marketplaces, where the unsuspec ng buy them as curiosi es. Once the bo le is in the hands of a mortal, it is only a ma er of me
before the demons receive a fresh meal delivered directly to their awai ng maws.
Each me an aurora terribilis is viewed for more than an hour, there is a cumula ve 1% chance that the viewer is suddenly spirited away
by demonic magic to find himself atop a frigid, wind-swept plateau surrounded by a sea of ice. Overhead, the northern lights dance
and flicker, and the screams and howls of the demons are heard as they ride the night winds. Eventually one of the fiends no ces the
new arrival, a er which the poor soul is doomed. Back in his now-empty home, only a gust of cold air, evidence of a brief, yet powerful
wind and an empty bo le with its lights permanently dimmed remain.
Because years can some mes go by between the purchase of an aurora terribilis and the disappearance of its owner, it is difficult to
connect the two events. Only when a buyer vanishes soon a er its purchase or when the en re guest list of a “viewing party” (an event
where the privileged gather at the buyer’s home to watch the lights, drink wine, and indulge in other diversions) is the cause read-
ily apparent. This subtlety allows the aurora terribilis to con nue to appear in witch markets, bazaars of the bizarre, and curio shops
without suspicion.
Crystal Wand: This magical object is a blue-white rod that measures 1.5 feet in length. It appears to be formed from a steel-hard crystal
similar to quartz. The p of the wand is encased in a 2-inch sheath of silver etched with prehistoric glyphs, and the bu of the rod is
encased in amber. The grip of the wand is wrapped in a strip of tanned hide with a pebbly texture, the skin of some ex nct beast.
The history of the crystal wand is hazy, but the glyphs on its p and the hide-wrapped grip suggest it came from the ancient kingdom
of Kryhiss that once lay north of the Peaks of Starva on. Kryhissic sorcerers achieved hitherto unmatched excellence with magics that
altered crystalline structures, and the gemstone guardians that once served as bodyguards to nobility are s ll encountered in forgo en
barrows.
A crystal wand has the ability to transform one type of crystal into another, provided the item or its owner fails a resistance check
against magic. The wand’s power decays any substance with a crystalline structure, changing it into another, less durable material.
Diamonds can become snowflakes, sand can become glass, salt can become ice, etc. Each use of the wand effects one cubic foot of
ma er and expends a single charge of the wand. Each wand contains half the normal number of charges for the game’s rule system.
Any transforma on enacted by the wand is permanent (barring another use of the wand), but the ma er altered might not be (ice will
melt, glass can break, salt can blow away, etc.).
Dead Moon Night (Day of the Wolf, 11th of Hardfrost): Not all cultures in and around the Aeternal Empire u lize the Grand Course
of Days. Nearly all humanoids such as goblins, ogres, trolls, and orcs, and several indigenous nomadic tribes mark me solely by the
changing of the moons rather than the more detailed crea on of Phutataes. This cruder but no less accurate method of me keeping
is called the Parade of Thirteen Moons.
The Parade of Thirteen Moons measures the year by its thirteen full moons, with each one given a tle based on its appearance, prop-
er es, or season. Each lunar period lasts from the new moon to new moon, with the full moon it is named for occurring in the middle
of the indicated me cycle. The exact start and end of each lunar period varies from race to race with some coun ng the night before
the new moon as the end of one cycle while others mark the day a er the new moon as the beginning of a new period. To further com-
plicate ma ers, not all species refer to each moon by the same tle, and this presents difficul es for scholars a emp ng to pinpoint
specific events dated with the Parade of Thirteen Moons.
The barriers between the living and the dead are thinner on Dead Moon Night, and necroman c magics of all types enjoy the benefit
of amplified power. All spells that affect dead flesh or deceased spirits work at full efficiency on this night. There is no need to roll to
determine damage, area of effect, dura on, or any other randomly determined elements on this night—simply use the maximum pos-
sible for each. In addi on, any a empts to resurrect the dead are always successful when invoked under the Dead Moon.
This is a mixed blessing, however, as the abili es of the undead are also more potent on this evening. All damage done by the undead
as well as other special abili es they may possess that have random variables are treated as if the maximum possible result was rolled.
For this reason, it behooves necromancers to not become complacent with their own power on this night.
Frost-Guard: Ages ago, long before the founding of the Aeternal Empire, the frozen glaciers of the north lands had advanced much fur-
ther south and most of the con nent was shrouded in a perpetual blanket of snow and ice. Life was harsh in this frozen age. Hordes of
monsters prowled the lands, a acking lone, snow-bound se lements. Ci es were rare and economies poor, for much of the resources
that man now takes for granted were buried under massive glaciers. It was in this frozen epoch that the Ice Knights arose to do ba le
against the forces of evil which plagued the land.
These noble warriors roamed the land astride woolly mammoth mounts and soared through the skies on tamed snow drakes. With iron
deposits locked under the glaciers, the Knights used potent enchantments to forge weapons and armor out of magically-tempered ice.
Stronger than steel, these arms and armaments turned back the forces of the cold north and aided the Knights in restoring hope and
warmth to the southern lands. The Ice Knights pursued their quarry north, sacrificing their lives to end the frozen age once and for all.
Many were buried along with their armor and weapons in secluded barrows in the icy wastes.
Frost-Guard appears to be plate armor forged from a dense blue-white ice. Magically enchanted, the armor provides protec on three
steps be er than normal full plate and reduces any cold-based damage inflicted on the wearer by half. If the cold a ack allows a
resistance check against the damage and this check is successful, the wearer takes no damage. The icy armor also has the chance of
refrac ng beam or ray a acks, causing them to be dispersed into harmless rainbows. Any such a ack has a 50% chance of unaffec ng
Frost-Guard’s wearer.
Predictably, the armor is very vulnerable to heat, and the wearer suffers a -2/-10% penalty against heat-based a acks and the possibil-
ity of resis ng them. Each heat a ack also reduces the armor’s defensive power by two levels as the armor melts. Addi onally, for each
day the armor spends in temperatures above freezing, it loses a single level of protec ve power. This mel ng damage can be repaired
by returning the armor to a cold climate, where it will recover one level of protec ve power each day it remains in those temperatures,
or by cas ng cold-based magic upon it. For each 10 points of damage or frac on thereof the spell would normally inflict, Frost-Guard
regains one level of protec on. Note that if these spells are cast upon the armor while it is being worn, the wearer suffers damage from
the spells, but with the benefit of the armor’s protec on against frost a acks as men oned above.
Ice Eyrie: The world is much older than most people care to consider, especially those who dwell within the seemingly immortal gran-
deur of the Aeternal Empire. These ci zens delude themselves into thinking that the laws, boundaries, and culture that nurtures and
protects them always were and shall always be. If they cared to scru nize the moldering histories and ancient maps, they’d see that
the Aeternal Empire is not the first great realm—nor will it be the last.
Of these antecedent empires, the greatest were lost when the world turned cold and the ice and snow covered the once-lush lands
which they occupied. Even the great magics that these ancient people commanded was insufficient to halt the frigid doom that
destroyed them, leaving their magnificent ar facts of power entombed beneath mile-deep sheets of ice. There, these magical items
slumbered, potent but inaccessible.
As the millennia pass, the old ice slides towards the sea, mel ng and breaking as it reaches the coast, and occasionally a slab of glacier
containing one of these prehistoric ar facts breaks free. Most fall into the sea to ul mately melt and deposit the item on the sea bed,
but some exhibit strange behavior. Powered by the capabili es of these entombed items, the ice breaks free from its earthly bonds
to take to the air, floa ng aimlessly on the winds un l the sun turns them to mist and cold, gentle rain. Thus, the ice eyries are born.
These flying icebergs en ce both monsters and adventurers to their cold surfaces. Flying monsters, especially those acclimated to the
cold, enjoy using the eyries as secure roos ng grounds. Ice drakes, hoarfrost wyverns, snow harpies, and cold gargoyles will all take
roost on an ice eyrie when one floats by, hun ng unsuspec ng prey as the iceberg enters new territory. Since ice eyries are short lived
These adventurers search out the item or items that give the iceberg its gravity-defying power. O en, in addi on to these entombed
ar facts, ruins and other prehistoric structure remain intact within the ice. The relics, riches, and magic contained within these prehis-
toric buildings outstrip those found in dungeons of more recent excava on, and wealth-seeking adventurers use whatever means they
can to reach an eyrie in search of plunder. Once upon the flying ice, these adventures discover that threats older than the newly-arrived
flying creatures lurk in the ruins. Undead, cryogenically preserved dinosaurs, slumbering sorcerers, and constructs of terrifying power
and incomprehensible terror await intruders in the frozen corridors beneath the ice.
Ice eyries typically last 1d3 weeks, less if they dri into extremely warm climates. When an ice eyrie is encountered, there is a 75%
chance that monsters have taken up residence upon it. Roll a d4 to determine how many types of creature currently occupy the eyrie
with a roll of 1-3 indica ng a single species and a roll of 4 indica ng two. Determine or choose what type of creature is present as per
your preferred game system. There is an addi onal 1 in 6 chance of the eyrie containing a ruin or mini-dungeon within the ice. Create
and stock this site as normal
Ice eyries typically come into play in the campaign in one of two ways. The first is when they dri into an inhabited region and the
creatures roos ng upon it begin a acking local livestock and residents. PCs with the ability of flight are likely to be hired to ascend to
the eyrie and slay or drive off the threat. The second method of using an eyrie is to have the PCs learn that one is in the vicinity and
encourage them to plunder it for its ancient and forgo en magic and wealth. In this manner, eyries are perfect for introducing strange,
homebrewed magic and monsters from the campaign world’s dim past. The game master is free to use ice eyries in other scenarios.
One suggested manner would involve the residents of a drought-stricken region hiring adventurers to track down an eyrie and arrange
for it to somehow be brought to their land. Once there, the farmers hope to tether it above their fields and use the melt runoff to
irrigate their crops.
[Profession] Rest (various dates): These labor holidays occur throughout the year and each is named a er the professional guild which
benefits from it. There is Beggar’s Rest, Wheelwright’s Rest, Cooper’s Rest, Smith’s Rest, etc., and each is listed by that name on the
Grand Course of Days calendar. This descrip on applies to all of them regardless of their exact name.
On these days, all members of the appropriate guild are granted a day of rest. From the lowliest appren ce to the guild grandmaster,
no one goes to work. Instead, the guild tradi onally hosts a feast at their guildhall, which is a ended by all members in good standing
and their families. Games are played, musicians perform, and awards and gi s are given to outstanding members of the guild. The day
ends with dancing and drinking, but not to overabundance, for tomorrow it is back to work.
Other than possibly a ending the Adventurers, Explorers, and Treasure Seekers fes val (see Adventurer’s Carouse on p. 104), these
holidays will seldom affect the PCs. However, the game master should remember that on these labor holidays no business owned by
the appropriate guild’s members will be open. This could inconvenience the party should they be ready to venture forth on a new
quest and find that the weaponsmith who promised them that new sword is off carousing at the guildhall. Strict applica on of these
labor holidays is a good way to remind the PCs that the campaign world does not revolve around their needs and that NPCs are living,
breathing people, too.
The Rime King’s Palace: North of the Glacier of Blades lies the Rime King’s Palace. This structure is a strikingly beau ful site: con-
structed en rely from ice, the Palace reflects and refracts the eerie, shi ing colors that mysteriously appear in the sky at these north-
ern la tudes, giving it an unearthly appearance amongst the stark white landscape. On nights when the skies are clear, the palace
seems to glow from within with molten red illumina on.
The palace is home to the self-proclaimed Rime King, a fearsome ice giant who rules the surrounding glaciers with cruel tyranny. Under
his command are a ba alion of frost ogres, snow drakes, rime hounds, and other cold-climate monsters. More interes ng to adventur-
ers and treasure-seekers are the rumors of the Rime King’s treasury, which stories tell is laden with precious ice diamonds, cold gold,
mammoth furs, and the ivory tusks of giant walruses.
The Palace itself predates the king’s occupa on. Sculpted from the surrounding ice by magic, the palace sits above a ri filled with roil-
ing lava, and it is this pit that gives the palace its molten inner glow. Despite the great heat emerging from this ri , the same powerful
magics that formed the palace also protect it from mel ng. In the lowest depths of the palace’s dungeon, creatures born from the fiery
pit cavort amongst the frosty halls and delight in tormen ng the King’s less intelligent servants.
As of late, rumors have dri ed south to the warm lands along the coast. The Qusimaux people, a rugged race of polar barbarians, have
observed great numbers of fearsome frost monsters gathering at the palace. Mammoths drawing siege equipment of tremendous size
are seen crossing the glacier, and the sound of pounding metal rises from the magma forges beneath the frosty fortress. The Rime King
Ves bule (Day of the Rooster, 1st of Hardfrost): One of the few holidays celebrated across na onali es and social standing, Ves bule
is the celebra on of the new year. On this day of fresh starts and new beginnings, most households engage in a symbolic cleaning of
the hearth, sweeping away the ashes of the previous year in prepara on for the new. Doors and windows are opened to the cold air
and children run through the house banging pots and skillets together to drive the previous year out of the home. Celebrants dress in
white linen (or silk if they can afford it) before journeying to their local temple to swear oaths of self-improvement in the year to come.
All day long, seers, fortune-tellers, and astrologers travel from house-to-house making a dy profit off the curious who wish to know
what the coming year holds.
It is widely believed that what occurs on Ves bule is a portent of the coming year, so celebrants do their best to encourage good for-
tune in the months to come. They wear their finest, newest clothes, give gi s to family members, neighbors, and close friends, visit
loved ones, and eat well and drink hear ly, all in the hopes that these fortunate occurrences will be revisited upon them again and
again during the year.
Because the year is fresh and new, it has yet to become clu ered with the psychic debris that impedes divina on. As such, the game
master should allow any divina ons or auguries which are performed on Ves bule to be slightly more accurate or detailed than nor-
mal. Vagueness isn’t completely banished, but the cryp c answers these divina ons normally produce aren’t quite so muddled during
Ves bule.
The supers on about one’s behavior during the holiday influencing their fortune throughout the year is precisely that—unless the
game master wishes otherwise. At his or her discre on, the game master can reward those PCs who a empt to curry the good will
of the Powers That Be with fine dress, small favors and gi s, and friendly visita ons to loved ones. In this case, a small reward should
be given to those PCs once in the coming year. This reward could be mee ng an influen al NPC who grants them a boon, doubling (or
tripling) the treasure found in one encounter, receiving an unexpected gi of fine clothes or master-cra ed arms and armor, or some
similar event. No more than one of these events should occur for each PC, and they may be spread out throughout the year.
Weird of Wolves (Day of the Yak—Day of the Rabbit, 8th—14th of Hardfrost): For the last decade, the northern lands have been
plagued annually by packs of ferocious wolves that terrorize the land for a seven day period. Travel abroad during this me, especially
at night, is dangerous, and wolf packs have even broken into homes to feast upon those within. These a acks appear to be focused
around the ny village of Lurach nestled deep in the Chiming Peaks.
Because of these a acks, a form of subtle totemic worship has arisen in these secluded villages, cut off as they are from the rest of the
civilized lands by dense evergreen forests, rocky crags, and snow-filled valleys. For these seven days, wolf worship becomes the norm
and missionary priests of the more civilized southern gods are given li le choice but to turn a blind eye.
Each night during the Weird, a small number of livestock is driven into the pastures outside of the villages and le staked out for the
wolves. Each herdsman and farmer in the village must surrender one of his animals to fill the nightly quotas during the Weird, dona ng
even more if the a acks are especially ferocious. As the wolves tear these sacrifices apart, great fires are lit throughout the villages and
prayers of deliverance are offered up to Lupris the Wolf. While most villagers refuse to speak of it, there have been cases where the
yearly a acks were so fierce that livestock were not the only offerings le staked out in the night.
These rites came into being a er the villages failed to stop the wolf pack a acks by conven onal means. The wolves outwi ed all
a empts to trap them or to track them back to their dens. More disturbing was that the animals shrugged off wounds inflicted by
spear, sword, and arrow. Now the villagers endure the a acks each year and pray for small losses.
The reason that these a acks occur is Lurach’s dark secret. Ten years ago, the local patriarch of the Robaun family came into conflict
with his neighbors over property boundaries. Robaun was a spiteful old codger and largely disliked by the village, so when his neighbors
decided to accuse Robaun of being a werewolf, thinking that he’d be forced to leave the village for good, many accepted the charge
without ques on—too many, in fact. As hysteria gripped Lurach’s villagers, these false accusa ons resulted in not only Robaun but
most of his family being burned at the stake. Only the patriarch’s younger brother and niece escaped the fires. They are believed to be
the cause of these yearly a acks and a bounty exists on both of them.
This belief is correct. The surviving Robauns escaped into the surrounding wilderness and took shelter in a remote cave. There they
called blindly upon whatever powers would aid their vengeance against their accusers. One sinister power responded to their pleas
by making the villagers’ accusa ons true, turning the two surviving Robauns into especially fierce lycanthropes. The lycanthropy strain
they carry is so virulent that the two spend most of the year in their wolf form and possess none of their mortal memories. Only on the
nights near the anniversary of their family’s incinera on do they return to human form and remember their former existence.
Because of the unusual nature and origin of the Robauns’ lycanthropy, the wolves that accompany them during the Weird gain some of
the benefits of the curse. Although their game stats remain those of normal wolves, they receive the same immunity to normal weap-
ons as lycanthropes and are only affected by silver and wolfsbane. They also will never flee from a fight unless the Robauns do first.
The Shroud
Cod Mink Porcupine Beaver Flounder Goat Swan
1 2 3 4 5 6 Athollos 7
First Gnaw Gresades Slain;
Massacre Helm Goes
Recorded Missing
(265 GCY) (884 G.C.R)
(1/29) (1/30) (1/31) (2/1)
G (2/2) (2/3) (2/4)
@ (2/10)
(904 GCY) (898 GCY)
(2/5) (2/6) (2/7) (2/8) (2/9) (2/11)
Mouse Camel Owlbear Clam Bobcat Owl O er
15 16 17 18 19 20 21
Camelmeet Unfurling of
the Eigh old
Path Begins
(2/12)
Leopard Mole
(2/13) (2/14)
Seal
(2/15)
Blue Whale
(2/16)
Halibut
(2/17)
Caribou
T (2/18)
Wyvern
22 23 24 25 26 27 28
Malak Nivaluvas Unfurling of
His horns Wine Appears in the Eigh old
“Dies” The Empire Path Ends.
(-7840 GCY) (878 GCY)
(2/19) (2/20) (2/21) (2/22) (2/23) (2/24)
0 (2/25)
The Shroud
The Shroud is the second month in the Grand Course of Days and is regarded as the beginning of winter’s end. The month gets its name
from both the fierce blizzards that seemingly envelop the northern regions and from the dense, frigid mists that arise in the southern
lands when warm and cold air collides. These fogs are especially prevalent along the coast and near the Aeternal Capital.
Born under the sign of the infamous “Woman in White” of myth, wraiths are emo onal contradic ons. O en possessing great empa-
thy, wraiths shun society to spare themselves the emo onal pain of personal rela onships. The ul mate wallflowers, wraiths are prone
to melancholy and exude an almost alien awkwardness when dealing with others. Wraiths make excellent scholars, as once they fixate
on a problem, they are relentless in finding its solu on.
This fes val is centered on the large camel market held at the oasis. Each tribe brings their herds here to trade and to sell the camels
born during the past year. These herds can number in the thousands, and the shaggy brown heads of these beasts are visible every-
where one looks. Caravan masters from ci es around the desert congregate at Camelmeet to inspect the available stock and replenish
their own herds. In addi on to the fierce camel trading, a spontaneous bazaar forms at the oasis. Camel saddles adorned with brass,
incense, ebony, rugs and tapestries, desert flowers, ca ans, animal hides, wool, dates (both fresh and dried), and lagmi (date juice
fermented in the sun) are available for sale in makeshi stalls and merchant tents. Despite these diversions, the real a rac on of the
fes val for many is the daily camel races. In these events, each tribe demonstrates the quality of their herd by racing select specimens
around a makeshi track. Wagering on these races is furious and gold changes hands in vast sums.
Despite its economic importance, the camel market is a secondary concern for the Debouin people. Much more important is the
exchange of news, the reacquain ng of oneself with rela ves married outside the tribe, arranging engagements, renewing trea es,
and otherwise taking care of business that their nomadic existence makes difficult. And while most interac on between the tribes is
cordial during Camelmeet, it is inevitable that a few hot-blooded nomads rekindle old feuds and spill blood upon the desert sand.
To the outsider, Camelmeet is a riot of sensa ons. Colorful clothing and tents compete with the exo c scents of spices for sale and
unfamiliar foods cooking. The smell of camel is everywhere and a hundred different desert dialects compete in loud auc ons and vigor-
ous bartering sessions. A er nigh all, the sound of unearthly music played on strange instruments fills the night air as dancers perform
ero c dances dressed in tantalizing costumes. It is truly an event unlike any other.
A ending Camelmeet is almost a requirement for adventurers about to embark on an expedi on into the desert. Here they are able to
buy mounts, hire guides, purchase specialized clothing and equipment, and learn the necessary lore that will keep them alive amongst
the dunes. Even if they have no inten on of heading into the deep desert, the camel races and the sizeable wagers to be won on them
are ample reason to a end.
Camelmeet is a superior way to start off any number of desert-themed adventures or encounters. The Debouin tribes know all the
desert’s secrets and will gladly sell the loca ons of the tombs, temples, and lost ci es that the sands occasionally vomit up. And while
most of the tribesmen are honorable, a few scoundrels have been known to guide their employers into the desert to rob and then
abandon them. Others will secretly follow the adventurers to their goal in order to ambush them once they emerge weary, wounded,
and laden with treasure.
Players who prefer role-playing challenges over combat will find Camelmeet much to their liking. The Debouin tribes have their own
strange (to outsiders) customs and it is easy to offend their honor with an unintended insult. Tempers flare easily under the hot desert
sun, and some blood feuds amongst the tribes go back genera ons. If the PCs are not careful, they could find themselves embroiled
in knife duels, bound into servitude, forced to take a husband or wife, or in any other predicament the game master can dream up.
The Ootabayuck goblin tribe was like most others: a slinking race of wolf-riding raiders who reveled in figh ng dwarves and pushing
around those weaker than themselves. This changed when a series of accidents le them in possession of a farmer’s cart and forced
them to share a cave with certain denizens of the Deep Dark. These fearsome, quasi-humanoids had never seen such a contrap on, its
use, and more importantly, the material of its construc on being u erly alien to them. Fascinated by the versa lity, light weight, and
so ness of wood, they clamored to acquire more of it—and an industry was born. The Ootabayuck goblins became full me lumber
traders.
Goblins, however, are loath to perform labor unless absolutely necessary, so for them to cut trees and trim planks themselves was
unthinkable. Instead, the goblins began stealing lumber from other races. At first the goblins limited themselves to raiding lumber
yards and warehouses, but as demand increased, they expanded their repertoire to include demoli on and, in its most literal sense,
“shopli ing.” The carpenter goblins, as they are known by surface folks, specialize in sneaking into villages with preternatural stealth
and stealing outbuilding, bridges, wagons, etc., in complete silence. It is assumed they use magical ar facts either stolen or purchased
from their subterranean clients to do so. Once dismantled, the structures are carried back to their lair to be further broken down and
carted off for sale in the blackest of markets.
Carpenter goblins make for an excellent start of a subterranean-based campaign. Low-level PCs could begin their careers facing off
against the carpenter goblins to try and put an end to their the s. Following them back to their lair brings them into contact with the
world of the Deep Dark and its residents, allowing the game master to introduce a larger threat or more expansive story for the char-
acters to become involved in.
Famine Moon Night (Day of the Ferret, 13th of The Shroud): The second full moon of the Parade of Thirteen Moons is commonly called
Famine Moon. Its tle comes not from the moon’s proper es or appearance at this me, but from the fact that most of the food stores
set aside for winter have been consumed and the prospect of famine before the arrival of spring is a real concern. A few maintain that
the moon appears slightly smaller on this night, but that is likely hunger influencing their vision.
The Famine Moon has a supernatural effect upon steel and this evening typically sees blacksmiths and weaponsmiths working un l
dawn to take advantage of its power. Any item of steel forged in the light of the full moon gains a preternatural resistance to both rust
and breakage. In addi on, these crea ons are more suscep ble to enchantment and any effort to impart magical proper es on an item
created under the Famine Moon is reduced in cost and me by 20%. Some smiths insist the item must also be quenched in a reservoir
of water in which the moon is reflected, but the veracity of this statement is unknown.
Appearing as emaciated examples of the creature’s original race, gnaws are immensely powerful and difficult to defeat. They retain
their mortal intelligence, although they are now single-minded in their pursuit of sustenance to appease their unending appe te.
Gnaws are as hardy as ten normal men and can only be affected by blessed weapons or those that bear magical enchantment. Their
taut skin is as hard a plate steel and they a ack with razor-sharp talons and an infec ous bite. Those who suffer from the bite of a gnaw
must resist the creature’s infec ous curse. Should they fail, these vic ms become overwhelmed by a mindless, cannibalis c hunger
that causes them to a ack anyone in sight in an a empt to appease their loathsome appe te. Only by slaying the gnaw can these poor
souls be saved.
Gnaws possess all the strengths and weakness common to the undead. In addi on, since they are created by and draw strength from
their hunger, spells that create sustenance or appease starva on reduce a gnaw’s power. Cas ng such a spell upon a gnaw reduces
its power level by one for each rank of magical complexity of the spell. A empt to repel these creatures that u lize sacred foodstuffs
enjoy a +2/+10% bonus to the roll.
Helm of Woeful Visage: The Helm of Woeful Visage is a relic le over from the days of the Basilisk Slayers of Jodo Pharr, that archi-
pelago found in the equatorial waters of Xaab. The many islands sca ered throughout that sea were once rife with basilisk, who found
the warm climate and rocky landscape to their liking—much to the dismay of the local populace. In response to this infesta on, the
city-states of the islands formed an order of elite figh ng men dedicated to the extermina on of the petrifying lizards. Armed with
weapons of the finest bronze, the warriors protected themselves with special helms cra ed by the ar ficers of old.
The Basilisk Slayers were successful in their hunts and eventually exterminated the last of the beasts. Unfortunately, with their success
came their obsolescence and the once-revered Slayers fell from prominence. One of their numbers, Athollos Gresades, would not go
quietly into re rement and rallied a score of Slayers under his banner to lead them against the rulers that had abandoned them once
they were no longer needed. As a symbol of his contempt for government, Gresades had his helm enchanted to show those who caught
a glimpse of themselves within its mirrored visor a clear look at their foibles and self-doubts. Gresades’ campaign ul mately failed and
his helm vanished a er his death.
Cra ed from verdigris-tainted bronze, the Helm of Woeful Visage is cast in the shape of a fearsome horned devil’s head. The visor of
the helm is made of steel-hard, silvered glass that can be adjusted to reveal or obscure the wearer’s face. It is in this mirror-like visor
that the helm’s fearsome power lies.
When the visor is lowered, any foe figh ng the helm’s wearer must make a resistance check against magic effects. If the enemy fails this
check, he sees himself reflected in the mirrored visor. This reflec on amplifies all the horrid self-doubts and fears of the viewer, filling
him with self-loathing and destroying his confidence. Those affected cannot approach the wearer to engage in melee combat and all
ranged a acks against the helm’s owner suffer a -4/-20% modifier to a ack. Combatants who make their resistance checks can ba le
with the owner, but suffer a -2/-10% penalty to all a acks and damage. Those who cannot see themselves in the helm’s visor due to
angle of approach (back a ack) or vision (figh ng blind) need not make a check against the helm’s effects unless condi ons change that
force them to confront the wearer face-to-face.
Malack His horns: The legends of the sorcerer-priest known as Malack His horns are myriad, a vast web of myths that entrap the
truth ghter than a spider’s next meal. It is said he scribed the first spell on gray, an que parchment of dragon hide and that he was
prac cing magic when the great Witch Kings were stripling mages who could barely conjure a candle’s flame. The provenance of count-
less magical ar facts suggest Malack as their creator, and no fewer than a hundred crumbling grimoires pried from tumbled ruins are
believed to be wri en by his hand.
Of these legends, few can be proven or discounted. What is known with certainty is that His horns was born in those half-forgo en
northern realms whose once lush landscapes now lie eternally buried under a sheet of ice and snow. A disciple of a blasphemous sect,
Malack learned the art of sorcery from the alien en ty to which he paid homage. With this hellish knowledge at his command, he
rose quickly through the ranks before the cult’s power grew too unseemly for the general populace and the sect was forced to flee the
flames of inquisi onal pyres. His horns fled south to more tolerant and decadent lands, and it was there his legend grew, but he never
forgot or forgave those who drove him out.
Ensconced in more forgiving climes, Malack turned his a en ons towards experimenta on and the subjuga on of magical energies.
His horns began the arduous task of contac ng and bargaining with the denizens of far-flung planes. By plying one against the other,
His horns finagled pacts with these beings that granted him great power at limited cost. So glib was his tongue and de his hand that
these fiends were unaware they had been duped.
Malack next cra ed ar facts to contain his stolen power, etched formulae in hoary tomes, and prepared for his ul mate goal: the
destruc on of his homeland. The s ng of his exile s ll sharp, His horns dreamed nightly of the day when that land would be ash
beneath his feet. When the last of his implements of esoteric destruc on was complete, Malack took to the air, born alo on the wings
of demons he had tricked into his service.
His horns descended upon the lands of his birth like a malefic comet, sowing destruc on with abandon. Ci es sha ered, fields burned,
and people fell transformed into loathsome forms by his magic. Malack’s revenge was nearly complete. And then, at the moment of his
victory, his scheming caught up with him.
On those foul planes were demons dream, the fiends Malack had trafficked with had been comparing notes and were displeased to
discover the sorcerer-priest had played them for fools. His treachery now made plain, the lords of the Pit put aside their plo ng and
wars to punish Malack. As a host, they rose from the Pit to punish the ambi ous warlock in ways yet undreamt of, even in hell.
His horns abruptly found himself ba ling for his own life above a carnage-strewn landscape of his own making. Demon a er demon
unleashed balefire upon him, summoning servitors to claw at his body and tear his flesh from his bones. The wizard was doomed, and
the fiends, their gruff laughter deafening him, knew it.
But Malack had the last laugh. A moment before the host of demons could claim their prize, the sorcerer’s con ngency magics sprang
into place. The air about him coalesced, forming a gleaming pyramid of unnatural crystal. At the center of the structure, a sarcophagus
of silver and steel appeared to harbor Malack’s broken body, and the sorcerer vanished within it. A second later, the pyramid flickered
and was gone. The demons howled in frustra on and began an eons-long search to find their hated quarry.
Malack’s sanctuary (and possibly tomb) con nues to elude the fiends he angered long ago. Appearing in remote locales for anywhere
from a moment to weeks at a me, the pyramid dri s through me and space, bearing its creator and the magic he wielded on the day
of his conquest. Legend claims that His horns s ll dreams in his sarcophagus, neither dead nor alive, but most folks believe if life s ll
remained in the ancient wizard, he would have surely emerged by now. By that logic, his magics and ar facts are there for the taking
by any who can locate and breach the crystal sanctuary.
Nivaluvas: The wines of the world are cra ed from a wide variety of grapes, some of which are known in realms beyond this one. The
names are strange—catawba, haanepoot, scuppernong, and zinfandel—but their yield, delectable. However, none are as strange as
the grape known as nivaluvas.
Far to the north, beyond where anyone would expect fruits to survive, are the hidden vineyards of the Cold Folk. This peaceful, faerie-
like race dwells in secluded se lements situated in obscure valleys and caverns throughout the Chillbone Mountains. There, far from
the prying eyes of other races, the Folk live in harmony with the harsh climate, using their innate connec on with the natural world
to coax agricultural marvels from the permafrost. Within the boundaries of the Cold Folk’s lands, bare snowdri s are crowned with
greenery and towering fruit trees protrude from cracks in icy glaciers.
Although the Cold Folk’s harvests are all impressive, none are more desirable than their annual yield of nivaluvas grapes. The grapes are
a pale blue-green color, each growing to the size of a cherry tomato. Prized by vintners for the delicious flavor and sparkling blue nt
they give to the wines made from them, nivaluvas are similarly desired by healers, alchemists, and apothecaries for their other traits.
Wine made from nivaluvas grapes are light and crisp, making them the perfect choice to serve with seafood and light fare such as salads
and cheese. In the summer months, nivaluvas wines actually reduce the body’s temperature by a few degrees, making them the drink
of choice on sweltering hot days and sultry nights. The aphrodisiac powers of the wine are also well-reported.
In the hands of mages and alchemists, nivaluvas wines can produce a wide array of beneficial effects. The most common use is in heal-
ing and restora ve elixirs. The pure, unaltered grape juice alone is enough to cure most minor lacera ons and contusions. When com-
bined with alchemy and magical dis lla on, this cura ve power increases ten-fold. Prepared in another manner, nivaluvas serve as the
basis for po ons that resist cold-based damage or protect the drinker from the elements. When dis lled in yet another form, nivaluvas
essence can cloak the drinker’s body temperature from the sight of those creatures who perceive the infrared. Magical experimenta-
on with the grapes con nues and yet more proper es may be discovered.
Whenever a wizard dies, be he a mighty magus or a mere appren ce, there is a chance the powerful forces he formerly commanded
manifest in enigma c ways. The chance of this occurring is based upon the mage’s level of power and whether he served the forces
of good or evil (or law and chaos if you use such terms). For every level of power the mage has, there is a cumula ve 3% chance of a
spectacular event occurring upon his death. If the mage was evil or chao c in nature, this percentage is raised to 5% per level. Thus,
a good mage with six power levels would have an 18% chance of producing an unusual effect upon his demise, while an evil mage of
the same level would have a 30% chance. Regardless of power or alignment, the percentage can never be more than 99%. If the dice
indicate that an effect occurs on the wizard’s death, roll on the table below to determine what occurs.
Unfurling of the Eigh old Path (Day of the Owl—Day of the Caribou, 20th-27th of The Shroud): The fortress-monastery of Tik contains
one of the oddest religious ar facts known in the Aeternal Empire: a scroll that, when unrolled, is fi een feet wide and nearly thirty
feet long. Made from a thin, flexible, and en rely unknown metal, the scroll was discovered in a sheep pasture by the founder of the
order some five centuries ago. On that scroll were wri en the eight tenets of the Tikyan Path to Wisdom—charity, cleanliness, bravery,
discipline, chas ty, cleverness, sobriety, and alacrity—to the pursuit of which the order con nues to dedicate themselves. The order
has grown since its incep on and has a racted many lay followers in the surrounding regions.
The scroll has been known to have bizarre effects on the devout, many of whom become wrapped up in the religious experience.
Some collapse and begin speaking in indecipherable tongues; others spontaneously break out in bleeding sores, lose hair, or suffer
other minor disfigurements. It is because of these intense reac ons to the scroll that the monks store it in a vault deep underneath the
monastery the rest of the year.
To incorporate the Eigh old Path and its monastery home, it might be possible that a PC priest or monk is of the Tikyan sect and prac-
ces their par cular brand of charity and self-improvement. This would not only provide them with an excuse to become embroiled in
any scenario featuring the monastery and the scroll, it would also grant them a safe haven and influen al contacts when in need. Even
if the PCs are not followers of the Eigh old Path, the popularity of the religion could mean that friends and loved one are and provide
another way to get them involved in monas c occurrences.
The easiest adventure involving this celebra on would be the disappearance of the scroll just days before it’s due to be displayed. The
PCs are then hired to find out whom or what is responsible for its disappearance and recover the massive document before the start
of the holiday. Anyone able to remove a fi een-foot-long scroll from a locked vault unno ced is bound to be either very cunning or
capable of mighty feats.
The other op on is to have the scroll’s original owner(s) come looking for it. Although five hundred years have passed since the monks
of Tik discovered the scroll, its large size indicates an unusual and perhaps supernatural author, one who may s ll be alive and well a er
all this me. The strange material of the scroll and unusual phenomenon that strikes pilgrims could even point to an extraterrestrial
origin should the game master wish to add a dose of science fic on to the campaign.
Galehome
With the arrival of the month of Galehome, the grip of winter begins to slacken. In the coastal regions of the southern countries, the
first telltale signs of the coming spring arrive as the temperature begins to rise. The shi ing weather pa erns caused by the seasonal
change tend to produce blustery days, giving this month its name.
Galehome is a me of an cipa on. The worst of the winter is now over and the dawning of spring is on the horizon. Tradi onally,
Galehome is a me of increased ac vity for ships and harbor towns, as captains, crews, and owners begin their prepara ons for the
coming trade season. With the winter storms over and the icy rivers and seas mel ng, the docks and shipyards become hives of ac v-
ity as vessels are prepped for sailing.
The Crown of Roaches was once the headpiece of the Insectrix, the high priestess of Otrogg, Lord of Vermin and Pests. Otrogg is a
repulsive deity who promises his downtrodden cult of beggars, cripples, and outcasts that a new day is coming when the least of crea-
tures will be raised up high. Otrogg works his will through these cul sts as well as insects, invertebrates, rats, and other pes lent crea-
tures. His doctrine is one of decay and infesta on, and he gets no greater joy than watching the pres ge of nobility and the comforts
of civiliza on eroded by the work of his servants—both bipedal and many-legged. So noxious are his temples and worshippers they
are confined to the slums and shambles of ci es, and even there they must operate in secrecy lest they be discovered and driven out.
A decade ago, ostracism and persecu on struck down the largest Otroggic temple in the empire. The cult’s ac ons a racted the a en-
ons of the Paladins of Law, who swore a holy oath to drive the pests from the empire’s capitol. Descending into labyrinthine streets of
the slum district, the Paladins rooted out the followers of Otrogg in their hidden temples and safe houses, pu ng those who refused
to flee or surrender to the sword and torch. Essia of the Filth, the then-Insectrix of the cult, put up staunch resistance but was eventu-
ally captured and immolated within the walls of the Otroggic temple. A er her demise, the Crown of Roaches was confiscated by the
Paladins and currently resides in the vault beneath their chapterhouse.
The powers of the crown are subtle, yet effec ve and may only be used by priests and other professions with a connec on to the
divine. Once a day, it can summon a swarm of vermin, causing them to assemble in (and usually infest) any place within the line of sight
of the wearer. Vermin summoned by the crown include roaches, silverfish, bedbugs, ants, spiders, cen pedes, rats, wasps, fleas, lice,
termites, weevils, and mice. There is a 75% chance the vermin are of normal size, and 100-1,000 pests arrive at the chosen loca on.
There is a 25% chance the vermin are of giant size, in which case 10-100 creatures appear. They arrive at the specified site within 10 to
30 minutes a er the power is invoked. In this manner, the Crown of Roaches is typically used to infest grain silos, libraries, government
buildings, or the private homes of influen al individuals. The crown also allows the wearer to rebuke and control pests (including giant
specimens) at the same probability that he effects the undead.
The crown also grants its wearer the power to shapeshi into a giant cockroach. This transforma on is instantaneous and can be
assumed three mes a day for up to one hour at a me. When in roach form, the wearer can detect food and water within 200 feet,
see with perfect clarity in pitch blackness, fly at a rate of 180 feet per round, and gains a +5/+25% bonus to all resistance rolls against
poison, disease, heat, and radia on. He can exist without breathing for up to a half-hour at a me, making him immune to poison gas
and drowning during that me. The wearer gains two a acks per round, inflic ng damage equal to a short sword. In addi on, anyone
struck by these a acks must make a resistance check or become afflicted with a debilita ng illness similar to that imparted by giant
rats. This roach shape is not a form of lycanthropy and cannot be spread through injury.
Although priests of religions other than Otrogg may wear the crown and u lize its power, they run the risk of incurring the Pest Lord’s
wrath. Each me the crown is called upon to perform one of its func ons, there is a cumula ve 10% chance the wearer is permanently
transformed into the giant cockroach form detailed above. The wearer loses his personality and intelligence in the change, becoming
for all intents and purposes a giant bug. If this curse occurs, the crown does not transform with its wearer, falling off his altered head
where it can be reclaimed by a righteous adherent of Otrogg. The former owner can be returned to his natural shape and personality
through the use of powerful magics that dismiss curses.
Dragon Heat (approximately Day of the Crab—Day of the Quail, 6th-8th of Galehome): In the early faces of Galehome, the countryside
is whipped by the tremendous windstorms that give the month its name. Blowing down from high mountain peaks to scour the land,
these tempests bring a danger other than falling branches and capsized ships. These winds herald the coming of dragons.
Although this event’s name is a play on words, it is a grim jest. Once the winds begin to blow, the ci zens keep one eye on the horizon
at all mes and pray nightly for winged destruc on to pass them by. These early storms of Galehome do something to the bodies of
dragons, urging them to leave their lairs and seek out a mate amongst the wind-torn clouds. At some point during this three day period,
each dragon in the prime of its life will leave their gleaming hoards unguarded to sing, ba le, and couple in the skies.
It is for this period of delinquent watchfulness that adventurers an cipate the coming of Dragon Heat. As the wyrms court in the air,
treasure-seekers sneak into the empty lairs to swi ly fill sacks with gold and jewels. These thieving adventurers risk much to trespass
in the unguarded dens, but the reward, if Chance be with them, is worth the hazard.
A cour ng dragon succumbs to very primal and animalis c urges during this me, temporarily losing its ability to speak or cast spells.
Thoughts of courtship, and in the case of males, defea ng rivals consume the dragon’s mind and it takes to the sky determined to find a
mate. Despite this devolu on of intellect, a dragon’s greed can never be fully subsumed, and no dragon will leave its lair unguarded for
long. If the dragon is successful in ma ng, it will typically return to its lair within three hours. Roll 2d100 and the total is the number of
minutes before the dragon returns. If the dragon is unsuccessful, it may be gone up to six hours as it vents its frustra ons (see below).
Most dragons couple in the air or in secluded loca ons away from their lairs (high mountain peaks, dense thickets, or dismal swamps,
for example), but it is not unknown for a pair to re re to a lair to mate. There is always a 10% chance that the two dragons return to
the lair within an hour a er the lair’s resident dragon departs to seek a mate. The dragons will be enraged to find adventurers in their
boudoir and gain a +2/+10% bonus to all physical a acks against the intruders and enjoy a temporary +30% bonus to their health. The
lair’s occupant will always fight to the death and the owner’s guest is 80% likely to do the same.
If the dragon does return to the lair a er a successful courtship and interrupts the robbery, the adventurers have a slight advantage.
Dragon courtship is an extremely violent process, and the dragon is likely to bear some wounds from ma ng. Reduce the dragon’s
health by 1d4x10% to reflect the injuries it sustained while cour ng, and assume it has already used its breath a ack once for the day
if your rules of choice limit the number of mes a dragon can make a breath weapon a ack. Exhausted, it does not gain the benefits
men oned above in regards to coming home with a mate.
Assuming the dragon has mated successfully, the only ones who need fear it a erwards are those poor souls it finds raiding its hoard.
Should a dragon fail to find a mate, however, creatures for miles around may suffer. Due to the animalis c state dragons assume during
this period, a dragon who fails to find a mate goes into a state of pure, unreasoning frenzy, its only desire being to unleash its frustra-
ons on everything that crosses its path. Enraged dragons burn en re forests, devour whole villages, and decimate castles. They gain
the same bonuses listed above that paired dragons have when confron ng intruders and can even use their breath weapon one more
me than is typically allowed, albeit taking a wound equal to 20% of its full health in the process. This frenzied state lasts 1d6 hours.
However, this event, which would normally provide a sense of closure for the deceased’s kin, is not one of relief but trepida on. The
first hint that things are not quite right is the cage-like bars with which the gravediggers line the interiors of the freshly dug graves.
Then, a er the last of the winter dead have been buried, the night falls upon s ll streets and securely fastened shu ers and doors.
Out in the cemeteries, large fires burn atop new graves and holy symbols hang from the surrounding fence posts; for this is the night
of Grim Supper.
A er having been denied fresh meat throughout the winter, the aroma of the newly-buried dead a racts hungry ghouls who dwell in
the tunnels beneath the cemeteries. These vile things crawl out of their holes to feast upon this sudden bounty. Residents of this region
a empt to prevent the despoiling of the new graves by ringing the churchyard’s fences with religious symbols and by ligh ng fires atop
the gravesites’ earthen mounds. The iron bars that line the graves stymie the ghouls’ a empts to reach the burial pits from below.
These efforts are unfortunately not always successful, resul ng is some towns hiring adventurers to help drive the ghoulish feasters
back into their tunnels or destroy them completely. In truly unlucky towns, the efforts to protect the graves work all too well, which
results in ravenous ghouls choosing fresher fare in the hunt for meat.
The fear of having their bodies devoured by these undead monstrosi es is enough to make some elderly or sick individuals take
extreme measures to avoid that fate. While mostly these efforts include leaving funds in their wills to hire grave guards or to construct
elaborate stone tombs, some poorer souls have dared to actually nego ate with the creatures. What the terms of the compacts might
be, sworn to by both par es in the cemetery under a gibbous moon, are unknown, but an agreement to provide another form of nour-
ishment in place of their own mortal remains is a safe assump on. An occasional black rumor suggests that some of these dying souls
agree to become ghouls themselves, choosing possible immortality in lieu of becoming a midnight meal a er death.
The most obvious way to get the PCs involved in this event is to have them hired by concerned family members to protect the remains
of a recently deceased rela ve or by town officials to help drive out the ghouls that lurk beneath the cemetery. The second op on is
more hazardous, as it would involve the adventurers entering the twis ng, cramped tunnels of the ghouls’ lair.
The alternate method of using the Grim Supper in an adventure would be to pit the PCs against a desperate, dying individual. A spate
of sudden murders might be caused by the dying man’s agreement to provide the ghouls with a number of corpses in exchange for
them leaving his own grave alone a er his death. An even grislier take would be that the dying man has agreed to become a ghoul and
is gradually acclima ng himself to his future diet by sampling the flesh of his vic ms. Imagine his surprise should he discover that this
strange diet seems to be curing his afflic on. Might he not share this secret with other dying men and women and might they, too, be
willing to partake if it helps prolong their lives?
Market Day (usually every 8th day between 23rd of Galehome and 27th of Cofferfill): Although not as interes ng or unusual as some
other events on the calendar, market days are important to the economic wellbeing of every na on. Since many farms and cra smen
are located away from civic centers, a schedule of market days is needed to allow goods to reach trade centers on a regular basis. Thus,
most towns and ci es in the empire host a market day every eight days. On these days, farmers, cra smen, and merchants arrive at
a nearby town with wagons, carts, and wheelbarrows laden with goods. Entering town in the early morning, these businessmen set
up stalls in a designated commons or market square from which to display their goods. These wares are sold throughout the day, with
the market closing down an hour before sunset. If their business has been good and tasks back at home can wait, many farmers and
tradesmen will spend the evening at a local inn before returning to their homes the next morning. In smaller trade centers, this means
it is o en difficult to find lodgings on the night of a market day unless previous arrangements have been made.
Game masters looking to run a “realis c” fantasy campaign might consider increasing the price of or reducing the number of items and
goods available in a town if the PCs go shopping on a day when the market is not open. This reflects the lack of selec on in the goods
currently available. On market days, a greater range of products are available and compe on drives down their price. In a similar vein,
the influx of farmers, tradesmen, and cra smen during market days means that news, rumors, and idle gossip is also increased at this
me, and the game master might wish use market day to have the PCs overhear rumors of newly discovered adventure loca ons or
news of job opportuni es.
The Temple of Time: Once, long ago, before the Cerulean Lakes dried up and the land turned to dust, there arose an obscure order of
clerics in the south. These priests bowed their heads to a single deity, the fickle and implacable force that is Time, to whom all beings
must eventually succumb. On the shore of the greatest of the deep, clear lakes, the priesthood erected a tabernacle dedicated to the
temporal goddess, Eram, raising its spires high and filling its halls with clocks of all shapes, sizes, and designs. Pilgrims flocked here from
Yet Time spares nothing and no one, not even her most devoted. As the world spun on its axis, the climate began to change and the
deep lakes started to shrink. The ground became spent, growing more and more granular as the years went by, and the crops struggled
to survive. Slowly but surely, the land became desert and the priesthood abandoned the temple for gentler climes. A few dedicated
mendicants remained behind as the sands began to creep across the temple’s threshold, determined to meet their end in the service
of Time herself.
What was once the Cerulean Lake region is now known as Hell’s Anvil, a desolate waste of shi ing sands, mirages, and a heat that
seems supernatural. Deep in the heart of the desert lies the remains of the Temple of Time. Sandblasted spires now jut half-buried
from the engulfing dunes, and entrance can only be gained through a large crack in the tabernacle’s domed roof. It is a forbidding place
and even the Debouin people shun its worn stone façade. Late at night, around the safety of their own fires, the desert people recite
the legends a ributed to the temple with one ear cocked and eyes that watch the shi ing shadows at firelight’s edge.
Those legends tell that the fane is built atop the axis chronos upon which all history spins. Like the water of an oasis, Time itself pools
along the axis chronos, connec ng ages past, present, or future and gran ng access to those eons if one is willing to immerse himself
in its temporal flow. Deep within the bowels of the temple, the priests of Eram constructed portals that open upon infinite vistas,
allowing those brave enough to cross their thresholds to visit ages long forgo en or yet undreamt. These doorways work both ways,
however, and any daring the depths of the temple may encounter monstrous beings from any epoch—past, present, or future—that
have wandered far from their homes in me.
The tales also speak of the riches that purportedly lie inside the temple. History abounds with stories of treasures that vanished, never
to be seen again. The relics of elder cathedrals, the vaults of deceased potentates, the burial goods of forgo en pharaohs, the treasure
trains of conquering generals—all have gone missing from the pages of history. What be er place to hide one’s wealth than outside
of that same history? If the tales are true, the wealthy have been using the axis chronos to construct secret treasuries outside of the
natural flow of me. Accessed only by those who can reach the space between centuries, these hidden vaults are impervious to even
the most gi ed thieves. But, if someone was able to find a way to transverse the spaces behind the cking clock, these storehouses of
avarice would be ripe for the picking. More than a few thieves have gone searching for the temple with this goal in mind.
Lastly, the legends speculate on what became of those priests of Eram who decided to remain at the temple when the sands began to
close in. Although most assume they died long ago, who would be less likely to succumb to the ravages of age than a priest of Time?
Grim tales claim the priests who remained behind s ll protect the temple itself, granted a state of immortality by the goddess. There, in
its sand-choked chambers and halls, the priests con nue their prayers and slay any who dare intrude upon the sanctum of Eram. Other
versions of the stories hold that the priests are not immortal but undead. Their bodies, mummified by the heat and dry air, shamble
down the halls of the temple with malevolent intent. Denied their eternal rest despite their devo on, the mummy priests now prac ce
a more sinister form of worship—one that makes great use of living sacrifices. Those whose blood is spilled on the sand-encrusted
altars are the lucky ones, for other trespassers are forcibly inducted into the dead priests’ ranks…
The Vernal Equinox is one of the holiest of days amongst faerie creatures, and it is observed with a mixture of great solemnity and
raucous levity. Underneath faerie mounds and in primeval forest groves, the hour of twilight is spent reci ng the old oaths of loyalty,
binding the creatures of faerie to their kings and queens for another year. Offerings are given to their lieges and a toast to their health is
performed. Once these du es are met, the faerie folk begin their revels. The legends speak of the fates of mortals who find themselves
caught up in faerie celebra ons on this night, and things seldom turn out for the best for them. Those fates include premature aging,
never being seen by mortal eyes again, or waking up the following morning with an unearthly child growing in their wombs. On the
Vernal Equinox, it is indeed best to stay close to the bonfires with your own kind.
Any wizardly magic cast during Vernal Equinox is always at it maximum efficiency. Spells last for the longest dura on allowed; combat
spells inflict the maximum amount of destruc on; and spells that affect a random number of subjects always enchant the greatest
number possible. Magic that allows a test to avoid or minimize its effects are resisted normally, however.
This day also amplifies the natural powers and charms possessed by faerie creatures, making them much more potent than normal.
Faerie creatures include brownies, centaurs, dryads, leprechauns, nixies, nymphs, pixies, satyrs, sprites, and sylphs. During the day and
night of the Vernal Equinox, these creatures can use any of their powers one more me than normal (a creature who can change shape
once per day may do so twice; a creature who can cast a spell three mes a day may cast it a fourth me, etc.). In addi on, faerie charm
and enchantment powers are more powerful and resistance checks against them suffer a -2/-10% modifier. Lastly, all creatures of faerie
gain a +1/+5% bonus to a acks and damage made during this period.
Wander Moon Night (Day of the Salmon, 14th of Galehome): The third full moon of the Parade of Thirteen Moons is named Wander
Moon, as it occurs during the me when the nomadic tribes prepare to vacate their winter territory and move to the spring hun ng
grounds. The moon appears crisp and clear as it rides the sky, and many fine details can be made out in the clean night air—including
the stria ons that mark its face, which are believed to be the trails used by the “moon herd,” great antlered beasts with enough meat
on them to feed a village for an en re month. As a minor footnote, it should be men oned there are those who believe the moon’s
greater clarity and finer detail on this night allows them to also see what appears to be the ruins of some great city on its surface, but
that simply can’t be true…
Travel during the Wander Moon is especially fortuitous, and those moving abroad by the light of it seldom encounter ferocious beasts
or hos le humanoids unless they purposely go out of their way to seek them. Any random encounters that occur on the night of the
Wander Moon should be both less frequent and skewed towards the neutral or friendly variety. Wander Moon Night is the right me
to cross dangerous terrain in order to reach one’s des na on.
G
(843 GYC) (-236 GCY)
(4/2) (4/3) (4/4) (4/5) (4/6) (4/7) (4/8)
Robin Possum Hornet Tortoise Bu erfly Tern Jellyfish
15 16 17 18 19 20 21
Worm Moon Harold the Market Day
Night Creature
Procurer Born
@ (4/10)
(971 GCY)
(4/9) (4/11) (4/12) (4/13) (4/14) (4/15)
Woodpecker Octopus Gorgon Tiger Puma Skate Flea
22 23 24 25 26 27 28
Harlot’s Rest The Market Day
Parliament of
Cups
The Bloom
With the arrival of the fourth month of the Grand Course of Days, spring begins to hold the land in its temperate grasp. The last of
the snows have vanished under the first gentle rains of the season, and farmers begin to toil in their muddy fields. In lands both north
and south, residents are thankful to put another winter behind them and get down to the business of preparing the fields for sowing,
cleaning out their shops and homes, and welcoming the return of warm weather.
Adventurers tradi onally emerge from their winter quarters to once again seek fame and fortune in far-off lands and forgo en places.
Although the roads remain muddy (and in some places, impassable), the warming air makes for tolerable if not comfortable travel and
camping. Professional soldiers and mercenaries use this month to begin assembling warbands, preparing arms and armor, and renew-
ing agreements for next month’s start of the war season.
D% Roll Random Dates, Events, and Adventure Ideas for the Month of The Bloom
01-04 1st of The Bloom: On this date in 948 GCY, the Flame Spring (see p. 33) was discovered by accident. The adventuring band who stumbled upon it was almost
completely destroyed by an efree who may s ll guard its waters.
05-08 2nd of The Bloom: An ancient dwarven mine is discovered by shepherds. One brave soul ventures in to discover rich veins of gold but is driven out by the
spectres of dead dwarven miners. He tells his story in the crowded common room of the inn where the PCs currently reside.
09-12 3rd of The Bloom: Market Day; A barrel tumbles off a wagon in the middle of the marketplace, breaking open to reveal several freshly severed body parts
preserved in arcane brine. The wagon’s drover vanishes into the crowd before he can be ques oned, but clues le behind indicate a gruesome ring of
cadaver smugglers at work in the city.
13-15 4th of The Bloom: A slave rebellion erupts on the lands of a rich noble. He’s willing to pay great sums to whomever helps put down the riots. Does the party
agree to help the noble or do the PCs side with the slaves and lead them to freedom?
16-19 5th of The Bloom: The shadows of the guests in a quiet road-side inn take on a life of their own. Some wish freedom from their perpetual bondage; others
simply want to kill their makers. When the PCs’ own silhoue es rebel, what will they do?
20-23 6th of The Bloom: Spring me flood waters fill the town’s sewers, driving creatures best le alone into the main tunnels. The thieves’ guild, who relies on
these underground pathways, is hiring sword-swingers and spell-hurlers to go down and slay these menaces.
24-26 7th of The Bloom: Great shards of crystal erupt from the earth just outside of town. Glowing eerily, the shards whisper in sibilant voices, divulging secrets
of the earth and the loca on of an ancient wonder.
27-29 8th of The Bloom: Flocks of birds lay siege to farmers’ fields, ea ng the sown seed before it takes root. The birds are led by an intelligent leader who has
bigger plans for avian-kind.
30-33 9th of The Bloom: Lucky goatherds first discovered valuable relics in the gulch leading up to Hidden Hoard Hill on this date in 843 GCY. To this day, treasure
prospectors head into the hills at the first hint of heavy rains in hopes of striking it rich with ancient unearthed jewels.
34-37 10th of The Bloom: Mucksucker Rally (see p. 36).
38-41 11th of The Bloom: Market Day; A friend of the adventurers explodes in a shower of gore and blood as he sits talking with them in a crowded place. As they
wipe his remains from their faces, they can only wonder who did such an act and was it truly their ally who was its target.
42-44 12th of The Bloom: Strange vessels of exquisite design are glimpsed riding the blustery winds. As large as galleons, these cra are making potentates ner-
vous and mages envious. Someone needs to make contact with these air ships and learn their purpose.
45-47 13th of The Bloom: Soldier’s Rest; With the military on leave for the day, someone needs to help the imperial watchmen keep the peace when drunken,
rowdy soldiers fill the towns. The pay for these scab guardsmen is good, but these temporary watchmen must be careful to not upset the wrong people
as they perform their du es.
48-51 14th of The Bloom: The Invisible College (see p. 34) was founded on this date in -235 GCY.
52-54 15th of The Bloom: Goblin rustlers mounted atop great flying beetles begin raiding livestock along the fron er. These nocturnal raiders carry off their prey
to a secluded and for fied hilltop redoubt.
55-58 16th of The Bloom: Worm Moon Night (see p. 37).
59-62 17th of The Bloom: The bodies of townsfolk dwelling in garrets, towers, and top floors are found drained of blood. Garlic prices soar and holy water
becomes hard to find, but the real culprits are giant vampire bats that roost in an abandoned temple’s belfry.
63-65 18th of The Bloom: Harold the Creature Procurer (see p. 34) was born on this day in 971 GCY.
66-69 19th of The Bloom: Market Day; Sneak thieves dressed as harlequins are robbing marketplace visitors blind and the Thieves Guild can’t seem to stop them.
Several par es—professional cutpurses, robbed nobles, and marketplace vendors—all want these colorful rogues apprehended and are pooling their
resources in a most unusual alliance.
70-73 20th of The Bloom: A wandering cleric has the relics of an obscure saint for sale. Although these body parts do have miraculous powers, they also a ract
the saint’s uneasy spirit who haunts the buyer un l he agrees to help the dead holy man find eternal peace.
74-76 21st of The Bloom: Ancient treants, having slumbered for centuries, awaken to find their favorite groves destroyed by human construc on and begin a
series of assaults against surrounding communi es.
77-79 22nd of The Bloom: Ships in the harbor begin sinking without warning, leading to the loss of lives and cargo. An old, drunk sailor claims he saw lights of
fantas c hues under the water on the night the ships went down.
80-83 23rd of The Bloom: Harlot’s Rest; A band of rowdy barbarians comes to town looking for a good me. When they find that the ladies of the evening are on
holiday, they go berserk and begin tearing the town to pieces—star ng with the PCs favorite nightspot!
84-86 24th of The Bloom: New tolls and tariffs go into effect this day, leading some desperate souls to turn to smuggling in order to make ends meet. One such
poverty-stricken soul needs to get a shipment across the border without a rac ng a en on. Will the PCs be willing to assist him?
87-90 25th of The Bloom: The Parliament of Cups (see p. 36) meets on this date.
91-93 26th of The Bloom: The local gravediggers refuse to bury another corpse un l somebody takes care of the huge carrion maggots that infest the cemetery.
Maybe that chainmail T-shirt isn’t the best armor choice for this one…
94-97 27th of The Bloom: Market Day; A new decree makes it illegal to enter “tombs, ruins, catacombs, dungeons, and other subterranean loca ons for the
purpose of treasure-hun ng” without paying outrageous fees to the local magistrate. The lawmaker responsible is a mentally-dominated pawn in a much
larger plot.
98-100 28th of The Bloom: A nymph comes looking for help in rescuing her druid lover. He’s been carried off by jealous satyrs who are planning on ge ng rid of
their rival for the nymph’s affec ons once and for all.
The Flame Spring is one of only a handful of mul -elemental nodes, places where the primal forces of the cosmos merge and combine
rather than cancel one another out. In the case of the spring, the elements of fire and water, normally the an thesis of one another,
mix to form a supernatural blend of flaming liquid.
The waters of the Flame Spring possess unique quali es, which can be tapped into by powerful sorcerers and alchemists, provided the
liquid can be harvested. The burning waters quickly incinerate any container of wood, canvas, or leather, and metal vessels become
red-hot from the heat emi ed by the liquid. Only metal enchanted against heat or those sculpted from magical force can hold the
liquid with ease.
Once captured, the Flame Spring’s waters have various uses. They can be used as the basis for elixirs that provide protec on from both
cold and fire. If dis lled correctly, the liquid revitalizes the life force of living creatures. This dis lla on is not potent enough to restore
life to the dead, but it is strong enough to replenish the life energies stolen by the undead and to revive dying creatures and plants back
to full health. In the case of plant life, a mere sprinkling of the waters is enough to reinvigorate an acre’s worth of crops.
Exposure to the unrefined waters, either by immersion in the pool or being doused in its waters, inflicts damage equal to a roaring bon-
fire. Due to its magical nature and liquid state, no resistance roll is allowed to reduce this damage unless the vic m possesses magical
protec on against fire. In this case, the damage is reduced by half with a successful roll.
The Flame Spring naturally a racts creatures with a strong connec on to the Elemental planes of both Water and Fire. These beings
take up residence in and around the spring for extended periods of me. During their occupancy, those creatures gain magical protec-
on against the extra damage normally caused by the opposing element. For example, a fire elemental found in or around the spring
suffers no addi onal damage from water-based a acks, taking only the typical damage caused by the strike. A water elemental would
likewise be protected from aggravated wounds caused by fire a acks.
A tall man dressed in tooled leathers and bearing an easy smile on his bearded, dark-skinned face, Harold is very much a “gentlemen
adventurer,” being equally at home in the halls of nobility as he is in dingy beer gardens or on the trail. He is a genial and ingra a ng
man, and like all good hunters is adaptable to his environment, allowing him to be suave and cordial when dealing with nobility and
rough and crude when associa ng with members of lower social classes.
Harold and his company eke out a living by providing animals to circuses, figh ng arenas, bear pits, and menageries; they also procure
bizarre monsters for decadent nobles who collect such beasts. Due to the nature of his occupa on, he might be on the hunt for lions
and hippopotami one week, chimeras and man cores the next. His only s pula on when it comes to capturing prey is that he will not
pursue intelligent creatures such as dragons, as this smacks too much of slavery for his tastes.
When encountered on the back roads of the empire or along the fron er, Harold travels with his crew: a motley collec on of men,
beasts, and wagons. At the center of this convoy is a large wagon drawn by oxen. The wagon’s bed is encased in a framework of stout
iron bars and covered by canvas tarpaulins. Four other wagons, each drawn by dra horses, proceed and follow this massive vehicle,
their loads consis ng of a more prosaic cargo of boxes, barrels, and sundries. More than a score of riders consis ng of fi een figh ng
men, three wizards, and a pair of priests serve as Harold’s regular crew. The rest of Harold’s band are specialists who possess skills such
as animal handling and training, teamster ability, tracking, or other useful talents related to the hunt.
The game master can use Harold in his campaign in a few ways. Harold some mes hires outside assistance on par cularly dangerous
hunts or when his company is at less than full strength. If the party encounters him during one of these periods and they seem to be
well-experienced and competent adventurers, Harold might be willing to hire them on for a short dura on.
Ba u’s company also serves as a useful source of informa on concerning indigenous creatures if the party is looking for something
specific. Harold and his men keep abreast of most rumors pertaining to recent sigh ngs of monstrous creatures, as well as frequently
running across them in person during their hunts. As such, they can most likely point the party in the proper direc on in regards to
what creature they’re looking for.
Lastly, Harold is a way to introduce new monsters to the campaign without necessarily forcing the party to confront them in direct com-
bat. His convoy contains a specially modified wagon for containing and transpor ng dangerous creatures. If the game master desires,
Harold could be transpor ng a new monster he wishes to introduce to the campaign world, allowing the characters to get a glimpse of
the beast. If the referee is feeling especially kind, Harold might drop some hints as to what special powers these creatures possess, if
any, and divulge a few ps on how to defeat them in ba le.
Hidden Hoard Hill: In the foothills of the Impasse Mountains, numerous gullies and dry river beds wind their way amongst the rocky,
domed knolls. Most are unremarkable and serve as footpaths for goats and goblin bands alike. One such gulch possesses a more
unusual characteris c.
Each spring, when the rains return and fall upon the mountains above, strange ar facts of solid gold adorned with gli ering gems are
unearthed by the torrents that rush through this gulch. These are ancient pieces whose origins cannot be iden fied by most learned
men (but Kondehl Del’Tempi probably could—see p. 77). That the ar facts only appear in this one gully means their source must be
located further up its course in the hills above. To this date, no one has located the site.
The mysterious source of the ar facts hasn’t stopped others from capitalizing on the rainfall rewards. The sign of a storm brewing in the
mountains draws local treasure seekers of all races and persuasions to the gulch with the hope of discovering newly unearthed riches.
These fortune hunters string fishing nets across the gully, si through the fast running shallows with pans, spades, or even shields and
helmets, and drive wooden stakes into the river bed to form “treasure traps” that work on the same principle as fish weirs.
With such riches awai ng the lucky, it is no surprise the gulch is o en the site of violence as these prospectors clash over choice spots
along the flash flood’s course. To complicate ma ers, humanoid tribes occasionally descend from the surrounding hills to prey on the
fortune hunters, and wild animals escaping the rains some mes wander into the prospec ng camps, mad with fright. Expedi ons that
seek out the hoard’s point of origin will have to contend with other fortune hunters shadowing their journey and the monsters that
lurk in the hills in addi on to whatever threats protect the riches themselves.
The Invisible College: When most adventurers think of wizardly conclaves, they imagine the events that occur during the Airing of the
Tomes (see p. 63). Very few of them—their adventuring sorcerous brethren included—have heard of the Invisible College. Those that
do wish they had remained ignorant of the group’s existence.
As the first pyres began to cool and the slain wizards’ ashes were sca ered across the land, the wisest of the surviving magic-users met
for the first me under a flag of truce. Recent events had demonstrated that if the prac oners of magic failed to police themselves,
the unforgiving masses would. It was this concern that gave rise to an independent, secre ve order of sorcerers whose duty would be
to ensure that the feuds of wizards remained contained within their own occult world. Thus, the Invisible College was born.
The Invisible College is the secret judicial order that oversees the ac ons of mages inside the empire. Its twelve-member commi ee
works to keep magical feuds contained and to obscure the damage caused when these mys c ba les spill over into everyday life. The
college works in complete secrecy, its membership known only to itself and to those who have served it in some capacity. Each of its
twelve members, or “majisters,” as they call themselves, is an accomplished archmage who occupies a seat based on his talents. The
seats of the college are the Seat of Thorn, the Seat of Coral, the Sea of Tears, the Seat of Light, the Seat of Frost, the Seat of Night, the
Sea of Roses, the Seat of Iron, the Seat of Cra , the Seat of Quarrel, the Seat of Madness, and the Seat of Balance. The conclave meets
once a year on the Day of the Grouse and then sporadically throughout the rest of the year when offenses make it necessary for them
to gather.
So long as a wizard of the empire conducts himself with composure and engages in magical conflict away from the public eye, he
has li le to fear from the college. It is only when the sorcerer begins detona ng balls of fire in crowded marketplaces or otherwise
causing the deaths of innocent bystanders in his magical quarrels that he comes under the scru ny of this august body. He may then
expect to find himself whisked away by magical servitors and placed before the college’s judicators in enchanted bonds. Once under
their pi less gaze, the indiscreet mage is interrogated by magical means, and if found to have willfully engaged in wanton destruc on,
punished according the severity of his indiscre ons. Typical punishments run from curses that prohibit the offender from behaving in
such a way again to outright destruc on. In any event, the guilty mage can expect to pay a the of magical materials to the college for
“inconveniencing” them.
It is not only wizards that must fear the jus ce of the college—mundane adventurers who stumble upon powerful magical ar facts and
use their powers wantonly can also find themselves facing the robed judges of magedom. These culprits do enjoy a slightly less severe
sentence if found guilty, typically resul ng in the offending item being stripped from their possession and a geas placed upon them to
prevent them from repea ng their crimes.
The Invisible College serves as both an adventure seed and a safeguard in the game master’s campaign. The college, despite its power,
occasionally employs non-wizard agents to assist it. These hired individuals are seldom aware they are working for the college and are
given tasks that include conduc ng covert surveillance on those likely to breach the prohibi ons of the college, recovering mys c ar -
facts from the possession of non-magic-using individuals, and ac ng as dupes to lure havoc-wreaking mages out of hiding. The lifespan
of these agents is seldom long, but they are well-rewarded for their efforts.
The game master can also use the Invisible College when the PCs begin to run amok with spells or magical items. When the party gets
too cocky with an arcane wand or lets their command of magic go to their heads, it is me to introduce the Invisible College into the
campaign. The offending member(s) finds himself before the majisters and subject to their decrees. If his offense is not too great and
he is a first me offender, he may get off with a minor sentence, typically a curse that prohibits him from repea ng his crime. Of course,
the college may decide that an object lesson is in order and sentence the guilty party to perform some quest or deed on the behalf of
either his vic ms or the college, allowing the game master to introduce his latest adventure into the game.
Although the rally has been held for centuries, one par cular mucksucker has outwi ed every a empt to catch her. Known as “Queenie”
by the locals, this ancient mucksucker is rumored to be more than fi y feet long and weigh almost five tons. Folklore has it that she is
the mother of all the lake’s mucksuckers and that catching her would finally put an end to the mucksucker problem. There is another
legend that she once swallowed a boat carrying a cargo of imperial payroll chests bound for the garrison on the north end of Deep
Murk. That treasure trove s ll resides in her gullet, providing addi on mo va on to catch the beast.
If the adventurers become par cipants in the Rally, the game stats of any large colorful worm can be used to represent a mucksucker
should the PCs encounter one. Simply remove any poison s nger a ack if the worm subs tute has one. The prayers of the priests both
increase the chance that the blessed will encounter a mucksucker by 50% and provides a +2/+10% chance to any a empts to a ack or
catch the creatures. At the game master’s discre on, this blessing might be good against any other large type of fish, worm, or giant
creature.
The adventurers could be drawn to the Mucksucker Rally as contestants if the prizes are en cing enough, or they could be hired by
the local villages to put an end to Queenie once and for all a er genera ons of fishermen have failed to do so. This might bring them
into conflict with an element of the local populace who has grown fond of the great mucksucker and her legend or from nearby nature
priests who see the slaying of the mother mucksucker as an evil act. The legend of the lost payroll in Queenie’s belly is also a suitable
lure for greedy adventurers.
The Parliament of Cups (Day of the Tiger, 25th of The Bloom): In the peaceful halfling shire of Wainscot, no bureaucra c council is
looked forward to more than the Parliament of Cups. This odd ritual stems from the wit of one Brubber Fa oes, who notably observed
at the local tavern one evening that “Any course of ac on which sounds correct when both sober and in one’s cups must be the best
one.” Over the years, this philosophy gained great acceptance in the shire and now, on the Day of the Tiger, the sheriffs, bailiffs, war-
dens, councilfolk, magistrates, and civic officials all gather to decide policy for the coming year.
At this session, massive quan es of ale, brandy, and hard cider are consumed, all while legisla on and courses of ac on are debated.
One designated teetotaler records these decisions as they arise. The session usually ends when the last two officials slip into uncon-
sciousness. The next morning, once the hangovers have been treated, the officials reconvene to go over the policies proposed the
previous day. Unsurprisingly, more than three-quarters of the legisla on and proclama ons are discarded upon reevalua on. Most
startling, however, is that the remaining 25% are quite sensible and appear to be the wisest courses of ac on. These proposals are
readily adopted.
The Parliament is treated with great respect amongst the Li le Folk but is o en the source of ridicule and outright scorn amongst the
other races. Dwarves regard it as frivolous, while elves believe wine should be respected. Some humans see it as no less valid as other
governmental conclaves, but most hard-working men find it disrespec ul for authority figures to behave in this manner. Orcs think that
blood should be spilled by leaders, not wine.
The Parliament of Cups can be used to introduce or emphasize halfling culture in the campaign world. Most players assume halflings
love a good meal and tankard, so why not show how deep this enjoyment runs in their lives? Player character halflings might decide to
pursue government office based solely on the desire to par cipate in this yearly bacchanal.
If the game master wishes to use the Parliament in a more serious manner, it provides enemies of the forces of good a perfect oppor-
tunity to strike against the decent and honest halflings of Wainscot. A cadre of assassins would make short work of the inebriated
government officials, plunging the community into chaos. The PCs might find themselves hired or assigned to track down the killers. In
a related idea, rumors might spread that traitorous fac ons plan to poison the Parliament’s cups at the source, and the shire is hiring
security guards to watch over the various dis lleries, breweries, and store houses where the potables are cached.
Like their smaller cousins, the Worm Moon lures tanic worms of various hues to the surface to hunt as well. Peaceful forests are shat-
tered when green worms erupt from the ground to snare full grown grizzly bears in their maws, and the windy prairies are disturbed by
the great purple worms coming to feed on buffalo and ca le. In the deep deserts, arid worms devour en re camel herds and nomadic
tribes alike.
During this night, there is a 33% chance that any adventuring band not inside the safety of a large se lement will encounter a large or
giant worm come to feed under the light of the full moon. Unless a bigger, more appealing food source is nearby, the PCs will be the
worm’s quarry. Should they survive, they’ll likely not tarry outdoors on this night again.
Some older elven se lements claim that this night’s name is actually a corrup on of the original “Wyrm Moon” and that in the elder
ages dragons would take to the sky to hunt on this night. Many dismiss this as haughty elves wishing to look wiser than they are, but
it is a fact that some of the destruc on sowed on this night doesn’t appear to be the result of giant worm a acks. There might just be
some truth to the old elf stories a er all…
Drawblade
Gorilla Ca le Osprey Hammerhead Armadillo Raven Lobster
1 2 3 4 5 6 7
Glorifica on of Hirehold Adora on First Use of Market Day
the Giant of the Colossi Orcs Woetem
Refreshed Poles
(592 GCY)
(4/23)
* (4/24) (4/25) (4/26) (4/27) (4/28) (4/29)
Chinchilla Oyster Aardvark Man s Panda Anhkheg Tick
8 9 10 11 12 13 14
Striding Tower Migra on of
Arrives at Coast Tremors
Departs
G
(843 GYC)
(4/30) (5/1) (5/2) (5/3) (5/4) (5/5) (5/6)
Goose Worm Chimpanzee Rhino Hornbill Bullfrog Alligator
15 16 17 18 19 20 21
Market day Red Moon Armorer’s Rest
Night
T (5/17)
(5/15) (231 GCY)
(5/14) (5/16) (5/18) (5/19) (5/20)
Although the Aeternal Empire seldom needs to take up arms against its pacified neighbors any more, internal conflict amongst the
empire’s nobility is s ll commonplace. In the decadent atmosphere of the realm, some lords and ladies find the clash of steel and the
spilling of blood the only way to make their jaded selves feel truly alive and take the opportunity to turn the slightest insult into armed
conflict. Numerous mercenary bands, adventuring groups, and opportunis c humanoid tribes take full advantage of these quarrels to
earn the livelihoods.
Birthed when the Eternal Fighter rides the night skies, Soldiers have iron in their blood and steel in their eyes. Most find themselves
fulfilling mar al roles later in life, be it as a professional soldier, village mili a commander, watchman, or hunter. At their best, Soldiers
are paragons of dedica on to a cause and loyalty to their leaders. At their worst, they are despots and bullies.
Constructed creatures are indeed more powerful on this day, and the game master is encouraged to not only reward those created
during this fes val with a 50% greater capacity for damage than normal, but any encountered by the adventurers on this day as well.
This day would be a poor one to enter a tomb protected by numerous golems and clockwork monstrosi es.
As a result of all the a en on given to statues and similar objects on this day, it would not be inconceivable for some of them to display
unusual proper es as well. Examples include statues that begin crying from their desire to be truly alive; the sick being healed by touch-
ing one of these marble images; Pygmalion-esque occurrences in ar sts’ lo s and studies; and the sudden disappearance of statues
throughout town. Any one of these events would undoubtedly draw the a en on of adventurers.
Glorifica on of the Giant Refreshed (Day of the Gorilla, 1st of Drawblade): While many holidays emphasize the mys c, the Glorifica-
on of the Giant Refreshed is all about the physical form, something that is shared by every resident of the empire. Awaited with great
an cipa on by those whose daily tasks or vanity have developed their bodies into works of muscular art, the Glorifica on of the Giant
Refreshed is a celebra on of physical strength and a chance to shake off the lingering lethargy of winter’s inac vity.
The Glorifica on of the Giant Refreshed is celebrated throughout the empire, its events held in both the smallest hamlet and largest
ci es. The holiday’s par cipants typically include blacksmiths, soldiers, mercenaries, corn-fed farm boys, tavern bouncers, bullies, ath-
letes, gladiators, strongmen, and other individuals who make their living on muscular prowess. During the Glorifica on of the Giant
Refreshed, these men and women compete in a number of events designed to venerate the capaci es of the mortal body.
The events and contests held during the Glorifica on run the gamut from simple aesthe cal judgment of the contestants’ forms to
brutally punishing trials that see its par cipants carrying great weighs across troughs of jagged metal and glass. In less civilized regions,
endurance trials where par cipants compete to see how many lashes they can endure from barbed whips are not unknown. The cel-
ebra on usually concludes with figh ng matches, and depending on the loca on, these can either be ba les to the death, gladiatorial
displays, or wrestling matches in the mud. The winner of the day’s events is rewarded with a symbol of his victory (typically an iron
crown and scepter) and feted a er night falls.
Although the glorifica on seems to be a minor celebra on, circumstances regularly indicate that the gods pay close a en on to the
compe tors on this day, rewarding the winners with divine favor. At the game master’s discre on, the champion of the Glorifica on
of the Giant Refreshed may find he enjoys a small bonus to tasks related to strength for a period following the fes val. This bonus may
be to brute strength, raising the champion’s ability score slightly for a day or two, or it may occur as a +1/+5% modifier to any skill or
ac on whose success is derived from raw physical power. On very, very rare occasions, the gods rewards a champion with a permanent
bonus, provided he has demonstrated he is a near perfect specimen of physical excellence. The tale of Uer of the Bloodied Sands (see
p. X) is o en recounted to demonstrate how the gods reward a true champion.
The regional dress of these young villagers iden fies their origins, allowing would-be employers to choose poten al candidates based
on what their villages are best known for. For example, employers that know residents of Stoneburg Village are renowned for their
culinary skills will likely interview those dressed in garments from that region to fill a cook’s or scullery maid’s posi on, while those
wearing the dress common in the iron-working town of Red Rock are likely candidates for the posi on of smith’s assistant.
Mixed amongst those looking to work menial tasks are would-be adventurers, sell-swords, and torchbearers. Many of these novices
are armed with a rus ng sword or the bow they use to bring down supper, but dreams of riches fill their heads, and they are willing to
work cheap for established adventurers while they learn the skills of the profession.
Hirehold is a buyers’ market, and any adventurer looking to employ NPC hirelings such as torchbearers, spear carriers, and other novice
adventuring types will only pay 50%-75% of their normal cost during Hirehold. Hirehold is also a perfect opportunity to introduce new
PCs or replacement characters to an established adventuring band. Due to the sheer number of young folks journeying to the towns
and ci es, inn rooms will be slightly more difficult to find and prices will be a li le higher.
Migra on of Tremors (Day of the Anhkheg, 13th of Drawblade and Day of the Landshark, 15th of Emberfade): It is not unusual to hear
the sound of thunder rolling across the Sallow Prairie, and most travelers wouldn’t think twice about such an occurrence. It is only
when they no ce that the sound seems to be coming from below their feet that they realize the danger they are in.
For reasons that sages cannot explain, a great subterranean migra on occurs during this me each year. Star ng in the northeast
and heading southwest, vast numbers of large chthonic creatures burrow their way across the grasslands, destroying farms, irriga on
ditches, and villages that lie in their path. Although the exact species vary from territory to territory, the migra on includes land sharks,
giant worms, dire shrews, anhkhegs, and other humongous subterranean beasts.
The start of this migra on is always around the Day of the Anhkheg, 13th of Drawblade (so named because of this phenomenon), and
in the days before this date, herdsman, farmers, and villagers do their best to prepare for the onslaught. Many head for the rocky hills
that abut the grasslands, while others flee to special dwellings that are erected atop stone columns. A few villages, having red of the
annual destruc on, no longer build permanent houses and instead dwell in huts of grass or animal hide that can be quickly abandoned
or packed up.
Despite the wreckage incurred annually, those who dwell on the prairie are known for their stubbornness in the face of adversity, and
many plans have been conceived to end the migra ons, defend their homes, or turn the burrowing horde aside. In the past, great
ditches filled with spears, stones, blazing infernos, or deep water were dug around se lements. Spells have been employed, iron bars
driven deep into the earth, decoys constructed, and drums pounded to discourage these creatures, each with a varying degree of suc-
cess. S ll the menace comes and even when the destruc on is minimized, the residents of the prairie know they s ll have another
period of turmoil to weather when the beasts return to their normal feeding ground around the Day of the Landshark, 15th of Ember-
fade.
Many of the prairie villages have standing boun es on any of the creatures which normally migrate through their lands, so PCs looking
for quick cash need only arrive in the grasslands ready to face these burrowing threats. Some of the more hardheaded villages also
hire adventurers to help defend their homes twice a year during the migra ons and send out representa ves to neighboring towns
and ci es around this me of year. Game masters familiar with The Magnificent Seven will have no trouble ge ng this kind of scenario
started.
To add a twist to this adventure seed, consider what would happen if the migra on failed to occur at its scheduled me one year.
Tension mixes with relief throughout the prairie as the villagers hope this yearly threat is finally over, while others suspect even worse
things are to come. The PCs might be hired to travel to the northeast and inves gate this delay. Imagine their horror when they discover
that a much greater threat, a flight of dragons for instance, has decimated the burrowing herds and is now preparing to lay waste to
the plains. Another choice is an evil warlord or sorcerer who bears a powerful ar fact capable of controlling the subterranean threat.
This foe plans on using the creatures to assault impenetrable fortresses by undermining their defensive walls.
During these mes of year, the odds of encountering any large burrowing creature should be drama cally increased on random mon-
sters tables, or at least one scripted encounter featuring these creatures should confront the PCs as they journey across the grasslands.
Amongst soldiers and others that make a living through violence, there exists an old supers on about ba les held in the light of the
Red Moon. These men believe the Red Moon is actually a manifesta on of the War God’s unblinking eye and that he takes par cular
interest in any combat that occurs within the moon’s sight. The War God will go as far as favoring one side of the ba le, gran ng them
supernatural aid in their conflict.
If a combat occurs at night beneath the Red Moon, the game master should determine which side of the conflict is favored by the
divine. A base 50/50 chance should be used, modified by any variables the game master deems fit (presence of a War God cleric on one
side, oaths made prior to the ba le, reputa on for bloody violence, etc.). The side favored in the conflict enjoys a +1/+5% bonus to all
a ack, damage, morale, and resistance rolls made during the conflict. It should be noted, though, the War God is notoriously fickle and
has been known to change sides in the middle of ba le should his favorites prove themselves unworthy of his gi s.
The Striding Tower: The races of the world have erected some marvelous edifices since the dawn of me. From the massive face-
shaped fortresses of the mountain dwarves, to the coral ba leships of the sea folk, to the flame giants’ obsidian towns that float upon
lakes of burning lava, it seems every imaginable structure has been raised. Any who fail to share that opinion might reconsider it once
they gain sight of the Striding Tower.
The Striding Tower is cra ed from stone, steel, and glass, each merged into the other by means of forgo en technologies or secret
magics. The tower is octagonal is shape, tapering to a spire as it rises 60 feet into the air. Its walls bear an array of flying bu resses,
arched windows, and arabesque ba lements, but none of these compare to the base of the building. Where stone would normally
meet earth lies a metal pla orm, the tower situated atop it like a candle res ng on a turtle’s back. Eight 30-foot-long legs extend from
the pla orm in the fashion of a mechanical spider, allowing the tower to travel across the landscape with the speed of a laden horse.
And travel it does.
The Striding Tower moves across the con nent on its mechanical legs following a migratory path that seldom varies. During the month
of Drawblade, the tower arrives on the coast of the Frothing Sea. It rests there for a me before rising up and con nuing on. The month
of Magusbirth sees the Tower reach the Crowhaunt Mountains, where it again pauses in the same general vicinity for a few faces before
moving. Come Wealwind, the Striding Tower crosses the reed-filled fens of the Murkmire Swamp to rest atop a hillock of dry land, and
in The Blaze it squats atop a mesa deep in the Priva on Desert. Starfall sees it in the Wychwood Forest, and once The Reap arrives it
moves unerringly to Darkling Plains. Following that, the tower heads west where it vanishes into the Sha ered Face badlands un l its
return in Drawblade of the following year.
The origins of the Striding Tower are secret, although lack of evidence has hardly stemmed theories from arising. Like most magical
crea ons, Malack His horns (see p. 19) has been named its creator, but this is unlikely due to too great a span of years between the
sorcerer-priest’s disappearance and the tower’s first recorded sigh ng. It is much more likely the Striding Tower and the Metal Worm
(see p. 99) share a common if anonymous creator, and evidence connec ng the two might lie within them. A less accepted but more
en cing theory is that the Striding Tower is in some sense “alive” and has arrived in the world from a plane or place where mechanical
life is the norm.
Regardless of its origins, the Tower is likely to house ar facts that mages, sages, and rulers alike would pay handsomely to procure.
Unfortunately, the actual contents of the structure remain a mystery due to the Tower’s deadly defenses. Those who’ve a empted to
breach its doors report that the tower strikes down a empted intruders with beams of uncanny power. These rays immolate would-be
thieves, turn others to unliving stone, and some mes disintegrate their targets completely. Furthermore, flocks of steel birds of alien
countenance take to the air to chase away fortune hunters before they can deduce a means to avoid the tower’s rays.
The Striding Tower can be used as the focal point of en re campaign. The PCs might learn of the tower’s existence on their own or
be hired to locate and loot it. If used in this way, the characters will need to learn the Tower’s travel schedule before they can find
its monthly res ng place. Even then, their data may prove to be dated, resul ng in the party arriving at the tower’s believed loca on
only to find it has moved on. Once they find the thing, cunning stealth will likely be more effec ve in breeching its walls than a frontal
assault, but the danger factor remains high in either event. And, once they’ve gained access to the tower, who knows what might await
them inside? Those that overcome the tower’s guardian(s) may very well find themselves controlling a powerful military resource,
which will undoubtedly a ract the no ce of warlords and imperial generals alike, resul ng in new, unwanted a en on.
As impressive as his record was, it pales in comparison to the end of his career. Although the surviving records are vague, it is said that
on the day of his final victory in the year 231 GCY, an eclipse plunged the arena into darkness and a bolt of incandescent fire streaked
from the sky to surround the gladiator in a corona of argent flames. Before thousands of amazed spectators, Uer achieved apotheosis
in the center of the arena, vanishing to join the gods on their distant plane. A statue to Uer now stands on the arena sands where he
ascended to the divine.
Uer of the Bloodied Sands remains venerated on the mortal plane by warriors, gladiators, and athletes, having been awarded demi-god
status by the imperial temples. His symbol is that of a rudis, the wooden sword awarded to gladiators who’ve earned manumission. He
is the patron deity of the Glorifica on of the Giant Refreshed (see p. 40). As a deity, Uer has li le use for those who rely on anyone but
themselves for victory, making him a callous god suitable only for those who believe the gods help those who help themselves. Uer has
li le love for anyone who eschews bloodshed and has been known to periodically visit the mortal plane with occurrences of weapons
worn for vanity turning on their owners or s rring the armories of complacent guardsmen into violent, animated life.
Some sages say that Uer is not the first to hold his posi on amongst the gods. In the past, other heroes and extraordinary athletes were
granted godhood as reward for astonishing victories. Unlike the other dei es, their posi on is a temporary one, and, should another
rise to eclipse their glories, they are demoted and another put in their place. If this is true, Uer may one day see a rival for to his god-
hood, perhaps even one of the PCs. Those desirous of his place amongst the gods should take cau on: Uer thrives in the face of a
challenge and will not relinquish his tle without a struggle that would undoubtedly shake the heavens.
These decora ve columns are carved wooden pillars adorned with bas-relief depic ons of monsters and heroes from orcish mythology.
The art is crude but nevertheless invokes a feeling of unease in those without the benefit of orcish blood. The Gut-Rippers erect these
woetem poles along the edges of their territory but uproot them and carry them into ba le when necessary. It is only when invaders
a empt to set foot in Gut-Ripper land or when the tribe brings them onto the ba lefield that the terrifying capabili es of the woetem
poles are revealed.
Woetem poles are not hewn from normal trees. Instead, the Gut-Ripper orcs use the treelike bodies of slain treants as the basis of their
awful crea ons. War par es composed of the tribe’s fiercest warriors and most powerful shamans conduct yearly raids into the dense
forests of the Supers on Wilderness to track down and destroy the elder tree shepherds that dwell there. Once they’ve take a vic m,
the orcs bathe the treant’s corpse in a foul mixture of blood and other fluids while chan ng blasphemous rites beneath a black moon.
When completed, the shamans carve new visages on the slain treant and the woetem pole is complete. It then either joins others of
its kind along tribal boundaries or hauled off to see ba le.
When protec ng tribal lands, woetem poles remain inert un l intruders enter uninvited. Once this happens, the nearest woetem poles
uproot themselves with surprising alacrity and proceed to a ack trespassers un l either they or the poles themselves are destroyed. If
the woetem pole is carried away from tribal lands to be used as a war machine, an hour-long rite performed by a shaman of moderate
power is needed to awaken the sleeping guardians. Once s rred to life, the woetem poles remain ac ve for 2d6 hours, a er which me
they fall to the ground lifeless un l the next new moon.
The game master may use any sta s cs he deems fit for the woetem pole, usually those of an animate statue or mber golem. In addi-
on to these, each woetem pole has different powers based upon which orcish legend or hero it is carved to resemble. To determine
the pole’s power, roll on the table below to determine who (or what) it represents.
* (5/24)
(697 GCY)
(5/21) (5/22) (5/23) (5/25) (5/26) (5/27)
Alpaca Devilfish Chimera Gnu Dormouse Pike Grackle
8 9 10 11 12 13 14
Tailor’s rest Obscured Market Day
Faces Fes val
T (6/15)
(581 GCY)
(6/11) (6/12) (6/13) (6/14) (6/16) (6/17)
Magusbirth
There are legends surrounding the sixth month of the year that a est to it being an auspicious me for those who wield magic. In the
stories of yore, the great wizards were all born during the me when the sign of the Mage rode high in the sky. For that reason, this
month is known as Magusbirth.
It is during this me of year that spring is in her fullness, the crops are growing strong (perhaps aided by the blood spilled during
Drawblade), and the promise of summer can be felt on the breeze. Those with preternatural senses can detect the hum of ley-lines as
nature blossoms and prepares to welcome the hot days ahead. It is a me of honest labor, and, for those magically inclined, to start
new experiments that draw upon the elemental forces of the universe.
Those born under the sign of the Mage are powerful individuals, both in personality and ap tude. The legends are true in this case,
and more sorcerers are born during this month than any other me. Those who do not pursue a life dedicated to the arcane arts typi-
cally enter professions where ambi on and a forceful personality are assets, such as poli cs, teaching, trading, or the performing arts.
These wines are understandably rare. For one, they must have been of excellent vintage before they were laid down. They must have
also survived the catastrophes that destroyed the empires that birthed them. And lastly, these bo les would have had to lay undis-
turbed in places where me was allowed to work its subtle magics upon the wine within. It is indeed extraordinary that these vintages
survive at all. But when they are discovered, the prices they fetch at auc on are astronomical.
The reason for this is not the flavor of the wine, although it is indeed appreciated by the discerning palate of the aficionado. These
antediluvian wines command fortunes because of the unusual proper es that they acquire during their long quiescence. Although
sages and mages can only speculate as to why, these ancient vintages develop the ability to affect their drinkers that outstrips that of
magical po ons and elixirs. Even a mere glass of the stuff is enough to cause powerful and unpredictable altera ons to the drinker,
which is the allure for those who have become jaded with life’s pleasures.
If a glass of antediluvian vintage (approximately 8 oz.) is consumed, roll on the table below to determine effects on the drinker. Each
bo le of wine produces the same effect whenever it is sampled so that mul ple drinkers sharing the wine will all be affected in the
same manner (barring a successful resistance check against poisons or magic as the game master deems fit).
For reasons unknown, a fire broke out deep in the mine resul ng in the deaths of the nearly fi y men and dwarves working the seam.
The blaze spread throughout the mine as the coal seam caught fire, turning the mine’s sha s into hellish infernos. In the wake of the
fire, mourning turned to anger as both the dwarves and humans blamed one another for causing the fire, and rela ons between the
local human villages and dwarven hall soured. Nearly two centuries later, both tempers and the coal seam con nue to smolder and the
Hope Prospers Mine is now called the Devil’s Throat.
Deep under the ground, the burning coal seam has turned the mine into a literal hell on earth. The sha s once worked in tandem by
dwarves and humans are now sheets of fire that rage as the surrounding coal burns. A miasma of toxic gases fills the air, making it nearly
impossible to venture into the mine even with fire protec on magic. Most of the mber shorings that supported the excava ons have
long since burned to cinders, making the en re mine a poten al death trap of cave-ins and rock falls.
As if these condi ons weren’t bad enough, the Devil’s Throat has a racted numerous creatures acclimated to dwelling in fire. Longing
for the comforts of the Plane of Fire, the Devil’s Throat is home to efree , salamanders, hell hounds, flame elementals, inferno cats,
cindermen, and other inflammable beings. Each has claimed a sha or level for their own, and they protect their holdings against all
intruders regardless of their plane of origin.
Despite these menaces, some brave or foolhardy explorers s ll risk life and limb by entering the Devil’s Throat. Rumors existed even
before the catastrophe that there was a secret gold mine hidden inside the Hope Prospers Mine, and it was for that reason that the
dwarves and human agreed to work together. If this is true, veins of that precious metal, perhaps now in molten form, may await dis-
covery inside the Devil’s Throat. Other tales claim it was diamonds and rubies that the miners excavated in secret.
A rumor of more recent coinage has been making the rounds, one that explains the origins of the original fire. In this tale, the miners
broke through the walls of a prehistoric vault that contained an ar fact of immense power. Secreted away by a forgo en race, the ar -
fact was protected by fire wards, which, when detonated, caused the fire that engulfed the mine. The ar fact remains protected within
that ancient vault, its safeguards preven ng the fires from damaging it even a er two hundred years of fiery surroundings. All that
would be required to take possession of the ar fact would be to overcome an environment inimical to human and demi-human life and
to defeat the powerful creatures that call the Devil’s Throat their home.
Near the civic center of the capital stands the impressive edifice of the Gallery of Honored Dead. Fashioned from gleaming marble of
a purplish hue, the gallery is maintained and administered by The Brotherhood of Dead Voices. The brotherhood is comprised of male
priests who dress in robes of gray velvet and never speak above a whisper. This obscure death sect is responsible for preserving the
memories and knowledge of the empire’s greatest ci zens so that later genera ons may benefit from their wisdom.
When a person of prominence is near death, a trio of Brotherhood priests arrive to make his or her death mask and to enact sacred
rites that capture a sliver of the soon-to-be deceased’s psyche within that visage. This fragment of their soul retains all access to all
the knowledge the person possessed during life, but none of their personality or intellect. Once these rites are finished, the mask is
brought to the Gallery of Honored Dead for installa on. There, in a room bearing the visages of other prominent individuals, the mask
is hung upon a wall and labeled with a gold plaque bearing the name and years of life of the mask’s subject. Each room is organized
by the occupa on of its subjects, with the death masks of warriors and generals placed in one chamber, poli cians and magistrates in
another, scholars and mages in a third, and so forth.
Once a mask has been installed, the priests may call upon the fragment within to answers the inquiries of those wishing to draw upon
the wisdom of the past. Typically, a fee is paid to the Brotherhood to do so, and these monies are used to maintain the gallery and meet
the needs of its priests. Once this dona on is received, a priest performs the prayers needed to awaken the psyche within a mask and
the supplicant can then ques on the visage. The mask answers in a flat, emo onless voice and can only respond to ques ons it has
the answers to. Since the mask retains none of the subject’s intelligence, it cannot make intui ve leaps or plausible guesses to answer
a ques on. It can merely recite with certainty what it knows or does not know.
Despite this limita on, the amount of informa on held by the more than one thousand masks of the gallery rivals the greatest of
libraries and its halls are seldom bare of visitors. These supplicants come seeking a wide array of answers regarding subjects as diverse
as military strategy, poli cal leverage, familial history, academic and scien fic lore, the res ng places of lost fortunes, obscure recipes
for both mundane and magical concoc ons, and even the lyrics to forgo en songs. And although the Brotherhood of Dead Voices is
supposed to remain neutral in allowing access to its charges, allega ons that the priests regularly accept bribes to obfuscate, misplace,
and even destroy masks to keep informa on hidden from the masses have dogged the order since its incep on.
Lich’s Lick: Rising up from the depths of the Shrunken Sea are a series of towering salt columns, each le behind as evaporite as the
sea slowly dries up. These towers are grotesque, gli ering forma ons, gnarled and warped as if carved by some insane alien sculptor.
Some are no more than the width of a finger; others exceed more than a hundred feet in diameter.
The largest of these alabaster pillars is the Lich’s Lick, the lair of the terrible undead sorcerer, Aruthander. This ancient corpse is horrific
to behold: its face dried and cracked by the saline air and its body encrusted with salt. Aruthander has spent centuries perfec ng magic
that u lizes salt as its base. The few adventurers who have survived encounters with the lich report watching in horror as companions
died by instant dehydra on or whose flesh was scoured from their bones by lashing blasts of salt crystals.
Fearful as its spells are, Aruthander also stocks his tower with mul tudes of undead drawn from the depths of the Shrunken Sea. The
bloated corpses of drowned sailors wander the halls; aqua c ghouls dine on interlopers, and rare salt vampires feast on the essen al
minerals of Aruthander’s prisoners. However, these foul things are not the only bounty Aruthander has collected from the ancient sea:
the riches and magical ar facts of a thousand treasure ships are said to now lie within the lich’s vaults, wai ng for those brave and
formidable enough to defeat their deadly custodians.
The Lich’s Lick has more challenges then just its residents, however, and the game master should make use of them to give the players
an adventuring experience seldom encountered in more typical dungeon se ngs. Seemingly solid floors of salt can give way without
warning, plunging the PCs into all manner of dangers. Walls and ceiling are likewise subject to fragility, and quick-thinking characters
can use this to their advantage as they hack through barriers to ou lank their opponents—except in places where Aruthander magi-
cally strengthened his saline boundaries, that is. Even something as mundane as an open wound takes on new meaning in a salt-rich
environment. Wounds become agonizing when salt finds its way into them, making the sufferer more likely to miss a acks, fail resis-
tance checks, and miscast magic spells.
Perhaps an cipa ng this, the city’s original priests s pulated that on the day of the Obscured Faces Fes val, the people of Yom-
Himbab would be free of these restric ons provided they disguised their iden es for the dura on of the day. For more than three
centuries, the Obscured Faces Fes val makes a grand masquerade in which the residents of the city garb themselves in every type
of disguise and costume imaginable and revel in complete freedom from dawn un l midnight. Masks, veils, dyes, wigs, hats, cloaks,
body paint, false beards and mustaches, and even s lts are worn to change the appearance of each ci zen before they take to the
streets to celebrate this temporary reprieve. The city, a normally restrained and drab place, erupts in a riot of color, exuberant laugh-
ter, and ecsta c dancing. Friends and rela ves who are normally forbidden from conversing or mee ng take this opportunity to visit
one another. Lifelong residents suddenly become tourists as they travel to sec ons of the city they cannot enter during the rest of
the year. Star-crossed lovers flaunt their rela onships in the open and a few take special vows that bind them in temporary marriage
un l the fes val’s end. For children who are the products of the consumma on of these marriages, this day is the only me of year
they are allowed to openly meet their fathers. It is a fran c but joyous me and the midnight end of the fes val is always met with
a raucous frenzy as everyone tries to get in one last mee ng, visit, or stolen kiss before the daily restric ons return to their lives.
The Obscured Faces Fes val makes for a wild, carnival backdrop for numerous types of stories. In a campaign that features con-
spiratorial or intrigue-themed adventures, an en re city of disguised residents makes the perfect place for conspirators or spies to
meet and plot. Game masters looking to add a criminal enterprise to their campaign could have the PCs hired to infiltrate and rob a
restricted temple in Yon-Himbab, which is only open to the public during the fes val. Of course, the penalty for stealing from such a
sacred site during the fes val should be an appropriately nasty one. This day could also be the only me the PCs can arrange to visit
a certain sage or wizard who has important informa on for them—provided they can find him amongst all the disguised revelers! If
the campaign needs drama of Shakespearean magnitude, this is a fine opportunity to introduce a couple whose love is forbidden by
the statutes of Yom-Himbab and seeks to escape their tradi onal families to start a life together in some distant land. They just need
the PCs to help them escape their parents, their caretakers, bodyguards, family priests, and any other obstacles the game master can
conceive of before the fes val ends.
Some game masters may want to eschew the Obscured Faces Fes val en rely and instead use Yom-Himbab as the se ng for their
adventures. Any adventurers entering the city during the rest of the year will be forced to navigate a minefield of restric ons, laws,
and codes of conduct, any number of which could have severe penal es if violated. The game master is encouraged to create laws
that drive the players to absolute hair-pulling frustra on as they a empt to achieve their goals within the city walls.
R’Roak (Day of the Emu, 4th of Magusbirth: Deep in the bayous along the Hidden River, the cacophonous croaking of the froggish
folk heralds the arrival of this holiday, causing fear amongst the villages on the verge of the swamp. The highest of the froggish holi-
days, R’Roak marks the me when the yearly clutch of tadpole-like offspring has almost fully developed. On this night, the frogmen
venture out from the crumbling megalithic ruins that lie in the swamp’s center to capture a suitable sacrifice for their warty god. This
unlucky soul is slain at the height of a mad, torch-lit ceremony and his or her blood is poured into the offspring’s breeding pools.
Every seven years, however, the rites change and it is not for sacrifice that a vic m is chosen. Spirited away from their homes, these
subjects are brought back to the breeding pools of the froggish folk. There, under the new moon, the high shaman calls upon the
power of the primordial deity and a fusion of human and frog takes places as the soul of one of their tadpole young is inserted inside
the physical form of the vic m. The result is something that looks human, but has the interests of the froggish at heart.
These hybrids develop quickly and the young soul inside its host soon gains control of its unwieldy form. In all appearances human,
the hybrid leaves the swamp to carry out its mission far from the marshes that spawned it, venturing to places whose climate and
condi ons would not suit its batrachian parents. Once ensconced in these lands, the hybrid begins a clandes ne campaign to spread
the worship of its warty deity and prepare for the me when that power returns to claim the world for its own.
Froggish/human hybrids are almost always priests, but a few are also unholy warriors or adept assassins. They have normal human
abili es but gain the capacity to leap like a frog and hold their breaths for up to an hour. They are typically of evil outlook, but the
rare hybrid finds itself swayed by the people it is supposed to be corrup ng and adopts a more balanced outlook. This type of hybrid
may be used as a player character race at the game master’s discre on.
The Seven Secret Songs: Those not born with the gi to hurl mighty spells or trained to conjure miracles must make it through life
content with the minor magics that fill an ordinary existance: a new love, the birth of a child, the glimpse of a faerie crossing a field
during the Face of Starry Tears. Few will ever get the chance to wield cosmic forces for themselves—unless they are taught one of
the Seven Secret Songs.
The Seven Secret Songs were gi ed to a young shepherd who lived more than four hundred years ago. Exellyt Shull, the shepherd in
this tale, was a naturally talented singer and the sound of his songs frequently dri ed across the high pastures where he watched his
flock. So beau ful were his melodies they caught the a en on of that enigma c body of dei es known as the Capricious, the powers
that inspire ar sts of all disciplines. The Capricious were amazed that Shull could compose such wondrous music without their influ-
ence and decided to reward the gi ed mortal with seven songs of their own making, each of which would produce a supernatural
effect without the need to command magic.
The Capricious appeared to Exellyt and in the course of one long night taught him the seven melodies. Over the years, the shepherd
shared them with a few trusted friends or those in need of aid, and while it is s ll rare to encounter someone who can sing one of
these divine songs, they have nevertheless spread further than ever intended.
The only criteria to learn to sing one of the Seven Secret Songs correctly is the singer cannot be able to perform any other sort of
magic. The songs even remain beyond the ken of the greatest bards if they are able to create supernatural effects with their music.
So long as this requirement is met, all one needs to do to learn a song is to find a willing teacher and spend up to six months (roll 1d6
to determine the training me) to perfect the song. A er it is learned, a successful ability roll or skill check related to the perform-
ing arts indicates that singer has sung the tune correctly and produces its effect, barring a resistance check on the part of the song’s
target, if applicable.
The Seven Secret Songs and their effects are as such: Lethese Lullaby (keeps sleeping subjects from awakening even when the loud-
est of noises occurs in their presence); Make Haste, Dear Heart (movement is doubled for 1d4+1 minutes/rounds); Pay No Heed to
Thee (singer is unno ced by those searching for him so long as he is in the presence of other people); The Saddest Tears are Ever So
Sweet (causes all within earshot to cry uncontrollably, suffering a minor penalty to ac ons requiring sight or concentra on); Wander
Not, Sweetest of Mine (summons one creature in earshot that the singer is personally acquainted with to his posi on); Wound Sooth
(one subject is healed a minor amount of damage); and Work the Day Away (grants the singer a small bonus to one ongoing task such
as swimming, cooking, chopping wood, climbing, etc.).
The Seven Secret Songs can only be learned from another person and never from a book, scroll, or sheet of music. A living mentor
is needed to teach each tune’s subtle inflec ons and notes. Each song can only produce its effect once per day, but its magic works
for as long as the song is sung (unless noted otherwise). If the singer fails his ability check to produce a song’s magic, it does not
func on for the encounter or event it was intended, but this failure does not count against the song’s daily use and he may try again
at a later me.
Thunder Moon Night (Day of the Firefly, 19th of Magusbirth): The Thunder Moon is named for the great early summer thunder
storms that roll down from the mountains or spill across the land on lashing ocean winds. It is a me to take shelter and pray the
storms do no more than provide an evening’s entertainment with their sha ered skies of jagged lightning.
Amongst giantkind, Thunder Moon is a me of high celebra on. These tans celebrate Thunder Moon and the storms that so o en
accompany it as a reminder that no ma er how much the “small things” (men, dwarves, elves, orcs, etc.) think the world is theirs, its
true mastery lies with the Big Lords. Each giant type celebrates this night differently: hill giants stand atop knolls bea ng great ke le
drums; storm giants throw ligh ng into the clouds; fire giants burn swaths of forests; and ogres just eat whoever has the misfortune
of running into them. The game master should adjust the probability of running into giants when traveling under the Thunder Moon.
If encountered, the Big Lords will a empt to demonstrate to these small things why they should fear the thunder.
@
(954 GCY)
(7/2) (7/3) (7/4) (7/5) (7/6) (7/7) (7/8)
Sea Urchin Co onmouth Dove Ladybug Masher Toucan Midge
22 23 24 25 26 27 28
Market Day Broadsword of
Comedy & Myth
Forged
T
(478 GCY)
(7/9) (7/10) (7/11) (7/12) (7/13) (7/14) (7/15)
Wealwind
The warm days of summer are in their fullness during the seventh month of the year. The sun burns hot, the crops stand strong, and
down the coasts and from off the high mountains come the breezes that fill a trade ship’s sails and cool the farmer’s brow as he works
his fields. The heat waves of The Blaze have yet to arrive and people are generally happy, prosperous, and content. Even the wars of
Drawblade have lost their impera veness.
Wealwind is a prime me for i nerant adventures. Good weather and comfortable condi ons make venturing forth a pleasure as
compared to the waist-high snows, bi ng cold, torren al rains, blowing gales, and boot-ea ng mud that occur in other months. Unfor-
tunately, this means the party might find that other treasure-hunters are exploring the same delve as they are, some mes with violent
results.
The folktales conflict about the Bone Orchard. Some say that it is home to vile hags who work in concert to unleash great evil upon
the land. Others claim that it is the site of a necroman c college that sank beneath the boggy ground and was abandoned…mostly. In
either case, some lingering malfeasance remains amongst its evil-seeming trees. Beneath the bone-covered branches of the orchard
prowl strange undead that emerge from the mists to slay intruders who dare enter the foreboding copse. Most of these restless dead
are bizarre accumula ons of mismatched bones, that, despite their seemingly slipshod construc on, are more formidable than normal
undead. Some possess great strength; others wield spells, and s ll more exhibit the paraly c and life-draining powers of the greater
undead.
The game master is free to concoct his own unholy amalgama ons of undead types. Should inspira on or me be lacking, however,
he need only roll 2d8 twice on the table below and combine the creatures’ powers. Duplicate results indicate that the undead is twice
as strong as normal.
What lies in the submerged ruins at the center of the Bone Orchard is le to the game master’s discre on. It could indeed be the lair of
swamp hags who are brewing up foul undead in an enchanted cauldron. It is just as likely that this building is the remains of the ancient
necroman c academy, one who is s ll instruc ng the undead remnants of its former student body. The undead that con nue to haunt
the ruins might be those students’ “final projects,” created as the last phase of their introductory educa on before going on to learn
more blasphemous knowledge. In either case, the water-filled corridors and putrid, ro ng workshops and lairs within will challenge
any adventurer who plumbs the waters at the orchard’s center.
The Broadsword of Comedy and Mirth: This weapon is a 4-foot-long broadsword of expert construc on. The blade is marked by whorls
of black embedded in the steel and the grip of the sword is wrapped with stained leather banding. The pommel of the weapon is a
stylized depic on of a jester’s head wearing a five-pointed cap ’n’ bells. It is unaccompanied by a scabbard or baldric.
Once the possession of Grϋntre, a barbarian warlord, this broadsword was lost when he died in ba le with a great green wyrm, and it
was presumed the blade became part of that dragon’s hoard. When the beast was slain decades later, the sword was absent from the
creature’s lair and its current whereabouts are unknown.
The sword possesses a minor enchantment that gives it a keen edge and causes increased damage in ba le, but it is from its other
power that the blade gets its name. Once per day, prior to striking an opponent, its wielder need only mu er the command of “Quip”
Once the blade is primed by the speaking of the command word, the next opponent struck by the blade must make a successful
resistance against magic or become overcome with laughter the following round. He may not a ack or move and loses any benefits
of a high agility score. If the sword misses its opponent, no effect occurs and the wielder may not invoke the sword’s power un l the
following day. Depending on the type of campaign the game master runs and/or the personali es and likes of his players, the need
for speaking the command word aloud could be replaced by having the wielder speak a short (extremely short) joke instead. Another
op on would be that the wielder must make a Schwarzenegger-esque “wi y” remark (i.e. “Nice to slay you,” or “I’ll get hack to you
in a minute”) in order to invoke the sword’s power. The author accepts no responsibility for any harm inflicted to the game master or
player by pun-ha ng gamers.
The answer, much to the misfortune of innocent travelers, is to revel in callous murder. And while these “thrill kill clubs” are rare, they
nevertheless remain a hazard for those who spend much of their days travelling along the muddy roads of the empire.
These noble clubs are secret affairs, their membership limited to fellow aristocrats who have developed a pale e for cruelty. Members
meet in private and typically give their conclave a name that hints at their dark pleasure seeking. Titles such as the Circle of Fiends,
the Hellfire and Brimstone Club, the Iniquitous Brotherhood, and the like are common. The club’s wealthy membership o en conducts
their affairs masked or otherwise costumed, usually in a manner reflec ng the name of their chosen organiza on.
Having reached the nadir of perverse pleasure, these thrill kill clubs engage in murder for sport. Most enjoy a homicidal version of fox
hun ng, turning their a en ons on an unfortunate traveler or a serf who has fallen too deeply in debt with his liege. This vic m is
turned loose in a secluded loca on and hunted down for sport. In one case, even this form of debased entertainment is too mundane
to keep the a en ons of club members. Instead, they rely on a more pleasant-seeming venue to provide an evening’s entertainment.
The loca on of their amusement is the Entertained Gentleman Inn, an innocuous looking roadside inn situated along a quiet byway. As
it is the only inn for leagues, weary travelers who sight the Gentlemen breathe a sigh of relief as they picture a warm hearth and hot
meal awai ng them. Li le do they suspect that it is a grisly fate to which they are hurrying.
The Entertained Gentleman Inn is a deathtrap. Its comfortable quarters and welcoming common room conceal a maze of passages,
oublie es, traps, and foes designed to harry prey as a cadre of debased nobles watch from secret and secure observa on posts
throughout the structure. Guests are greeted by the staff (all of whom are equally evil or magically enchanted to mindlessly follow
orders) and given a fine meal at a fair price. These viands are typically saturated with a short-dura on soporific to render the diners
sleepy. Once they are escorted to their rooms, the entertainment and terror begins.
Each of the inn’s beds lts to drop its occupant down a concealed chute leading to the center of the Inn’s maze of death traps. Depend-
ing on the whims of the nobles, their guests may or may not be stripped of weapons and armor before they are deposited into the
deadly obstacle course below. As the groggy visitors regain their senses, they are told of their predicament and given fair warning of
what awaits them ahead. Should they reach the end of the maze, the voice assures them, they will be released with a generous sum of
gold for providing the evening’s amusements. It is then up to the unlucky vic ms to survive. So far, none have.
The maze of traps and challenges can contain threats ranging from simple spiked pits to walls of whirling saw blades. Magically-aug-
mented champions and spell-hurling mages wait to fight the vic ms from protected posi ons, and the nobles themselves will undoubt-
edly deign to confront their guests should it become clear they have a chance of escaping the inn’s dangers.
Although largely intended as an evening’s distrac on, the game master wishing to link the thrill kill club and the Entertained Gentleman
Inn to ongoing events in the campaign world might consider making one of the club’s members an old foe (or even be er, an old friend)
of the party. Nothing mo vates the players like revenge on an unscrupulous adversary.
Due to the War Star’s connec on with the elemental forces of heat and strife crossed with the innate mys c, cosmic radia ons pro-
duced by the Pearl, the power of magical fire is greatly increased during the 24-hour period the alignment known as Firesight occurs.
For one full day and night, all fire and heat magic are at twice their normal potency. This effect doubles the damage produced by magi-
cal fire effects, extends the dura on of the spell’s life to twice its normal length, and imposes a -2/-10% penalty to all resistance checks
against the magic’s potency.
The cosmic amplifica on extends to all magical fires, not only those produced by cast spells. Heat rays, fire balls, and flame bursts
invoked by magical items, arcane traps, and other such sources are also increased. Even dragon fire is twice as deadly, and dragons that
can wield spells are aware of this celes al phenomenon and use it to their advantage. The great red dragons regularly take to the air on
this date to lay waste to the areas surrounding their lairs or to se le grudges with other, non-flame-breathing drakes.
Firesight is a holy day for those who revere the elemental forces of nature—both for good and for evil. Amongst the Zogar people of
the Hell’s Anvil desert, Firesight is the highest of holidays and they call up fire elementals of tremendous power at their most sacred
sanctuary: a large stretch of hardened lava bed studded with precious gems. In the taiga forests of the northern climes, the shamans of
the nomadic people of these lands build great bonfires and sacrifice criminals and trespasser to the flames. And amongst the islanders
of the southernmost seas, Firesight is observed by throwing sacrificial vic ms into the great smoking volcanoes that are so common to
their islands. Firesight is a bad me to go visi ng these locales unannounced.
Gobber’s Flame: With the types of substances that magic-users, alchemists, transmuters, and chemists employ in the course of their
experiments, it is no surprise the occasional laboratory mishap results in widespread destruc on. Chemicals spill, reagents ignite, and
substances react to produce calamitous detona ons, leaving those unfortunate enough to be caught in the blast radius horrifically
affected. While the variety of explosions are as varied as the substances that cause them, the most common accidental byproduct of
mys c experimenta on gone awry is the yellow, pink, and purple fire known as Gobber’s Flames.
Quib Gobber was a legendary magician, one more infamous for his clumsiness and absent-mindedness than his ability to cra a spell.
He is largely believed to be a fic onal crea on, a sort of cau onary tale told to appren ces to emphasize the need for carefulness in
their experimenta ons. In addi on to the mys c fire named a er him, Gobber is credited with the crea on (accidentally, of course) of
numerous monstrous aberra ons whose descendants s ll prowl the wilderness.
Whenever a sorcerer suffers an extreme setback in the making of a magical item, spell, or other arcane crea on, there is a cumula ve
1% chance per point by which the magic-user failed his roll that Gobber’s Flame results from a mishap. If this occurs, the game master
should roll on the table below to determine the effects of the fire. The area of effect is based on the size of the wizard’s workshop and
the item the magic-user was crea ng. A small alchemist’s lab used to brew a po on would cause Gobber’s Flames that afflict a standard
sized inn room. A full laboratory used to bring a magical construct to life could create an inferno that rages through an en re city block.
The ul mate area affected is determined by the game master.
Green Moon Night (Day of the Hermit Crab, 21st of Wealwind): The name of the seventh full moon of the year refers to the lushness
of high summer rather than a discolora on of its appearance. Of all the moons in the Parade of Thirteen Moons, it is the one that
draws the least interest amongst those who mark me in that manner. There are no monsters s rred up by it, no supernatural effects
on everyday life, or calamity to be cau ous of. For the average creature, its brightness is appreciated but it has no special significance.
Amongst those who cra magical brews, however, the Green Moon is a busy night. Alchemists, mages, witches, shamans, and apoth-
ecaries know that elixirs created under the Green Moon have increased potency and make sure to brew their most special concoc ons
on this night. All po ons, elixirs, and other enchanted draughts created under the Green Moon last three mes longer than normal,
although their actual effects are unchanged unless the game master wishes otherwise.
Midsummer (Day of the Nykur, 4th of Wealwind): Water and fire mark this date, the longest day of the year. Bonfires are lit to honor
the sun and to renew the reproduc ve powers of the earth. Amongst savage tribes and humanoid bands, these fires are actually
“bonefires” where the bones and blood of human and animal sacrifices are thrown upon the wood. It is believed the restora ve power
Any PC bathing in natural waters during Midsummer has a 5% chance of being miraculously healed of any diseases, toxins, or physical
damage. Otherwise, a slight bonus should be awarded when using your game system’s rules for natural healing. Addi onally, there is a
10% chance that any group of bathers will encounter a water spirit, creature, or elemental during their dip. This creature will be hos le
and seek to take one of the bathers as a sacrificial vic m.
The Night of the Vanished Men (Day of the Dog, 11th of Wealwind): Each year in the town of Frath, an odd event occurs. At sundown
on the 11th of Wealwind, a por on of the adult men in town solemnly bid their families farewell and depart from their homes, osten-
sibly following a call only they can hear. For the next two faces, the men are absent from Frath, only to return suddenly and without
fanfare early one morning. Some mes not all the missing men return, and when asked the fate of those who failed to return, the rest
simply shake their heads sadly and go back to their homes.
This event has been occurring for three decades and none but the men themselves know what happens to them during this period—
informa on which they will not (or cannot) reveal. Amongst sages who know of this occurrence, opinions are divided. Some maintain
the men are engaged in some masculine conspiracy which allows them to escape the responsibili es of their roles as husbands, fathers,
and providers for a short period. Those who fail to come home have merely fled their old lives to start new ones in another town. Other
sages speculate that the men of Frath are under some malignant spell, one woven perhaps by sinister witches or evil denizens of the
dark planes.
Depending on one’s campaign, the reason behind this event could be either grim or humorous. In a darker se ng, the men are indeed
under the influence of a malignant power and forced to do its bidding during this me period. Their tasks could be anything from
unearthing a lost temple dedicated to that power to engaging in a clandes ne assassina on campaign as Manchurian Candidate-like
killers. The power they serve has enacted a geas or curse upon the men, making it impossible for them to reveal their secret.
For a less serious game, the men are only fleeing their shrewish wives and bone-wearying responsibili es at home. During their me
away from home, they travel to a nearby city with a reputa on for debauchery and licen ousness. There they carouse un l their purses
run low (or un l they can no longer find temporary work to support their debauch) before traveling home. Those men who fail to
return have simply had enough of life in Frath and have decided to stay in the city permanently or start new lives elsewhere.
The PCs could become involved with the Night of the Vanished Men when the women of Frath hire adventurers to discover what power
has their men in its grasp and to put an end to it once and for all. This might lead to a desperate ba le against evil foes or a comedic
encounter where the men desperately plead with the PCs to keep their excursion a secret from their wives. A newly-introduced PC
might even be one of the men of Frath, one who has decided to leave his rural existence behind for a life of high adventure. Of course,
this means his family thinks him dead and there will be consequences should he ever pass through Frath again.
(601 GCY)
G (7/30) (7/31) (8/1) (8/2) (8/3) (8/4) (8/5)
Hydra Fiddler Crab Flying Fox Hamster Conch Manatee Angelfish
22 23 24 25 26 27 28
King Moon Last Outbreak of Market Day
Night Sorcerer’s Pox
(801 GCY)
* (8/6) (8/7) (8/8) (8/9) (8/10) (8/11) (8/12)
The Blaze
The eight month is the ho est one, a me when the air lies s ll and heavy across the land and the sun bakes the earth hard as clay. The
threat of drought is constant and the furnace-like heat of high summer limits work to the cooler morning and evening hours.
The Blaze is tradi onally a me for nego a ons and the signing of contracts—work that can be done in shadowy offices or breezy
por cos to escape the heat. The ba les started in Drawblade reach their peak as conscripts and mili as begin thinking of the harvests
ahead, forcing pe y nobles and warlords to begin the truce-making process.
In mythology, Chaar was a demigod who fell in love with the goddess of beauty, only to be spurned by her. Angry and resen ul, Chaar
stole the sacred fire from her chambers and gi ed it to mankind. Those born under his sign bear the same traits that led him to this act.
At their best, Torches are loving and expressive individuals who let the emo ons flow. However, some Torches fall in love with them-
selves rather than others, making them self-centered and coldhearted to the concerns of those around them. When slighted, Torches
tend to burn those closest to them the worst.
Known as the Conclave of Texts, this event sees sorcerers from far and wide gather at the Blue Tower to discuss recent experiments,
new advances, and trade rumors of ancient spells and powerful an qui es. A truce hangs over these mee ngs, overseen by the
hawk-like gaze of the Blue Tower’s mage-slayers and arcane constructs. This allows even the vilest necromancer to rub shoulders with
celes al invokers without fear of spell violence erup ng. For many of these solitary scholars of magic, this day is the only one in their
lonely lives that brings them into contact with others, giving them the opportunity to drop their guard and fearful glares long enough
to enjoy a cup of wine and a few dry laughs with equals. Novice sorcerers seeking the assistance of or favors from mighty magi should
approach them on this day for best results.
The Airing of the Grimoires and the Conclave of Texts provides the game master a means to introduce new spells and spellcasters to his
campaign in a nonthreatening manner. The PCs might witness the demonstra on of a newly researched or discovered spell during the
Conclave of Texts and seek to learn more from its caster. This could lead to them learning new magical lore or discovering the loca on
of a previously unknown site to plunder. If the game master has been itching to introduce a new foe or reinsert an old enemy in the
campaign, the adventurers might run into him during the gathering. With the vigilant mage-slayers watching the fes val, they can do
li le but smolder in anger—a fact their foe will be sure to take advantage of.
The Airing of the Grimoires, while seemingly less exci ng than the Conclave of Texts, is a superb opportunity to introduce intrigue
and mystery into the campaign. Who knows what will turn up as the Blue Tower’s librarians clear their shelves? An ancient spellbook
thought long lost might have been merely mis-shelved or a missing wizard’s body could be found stashed behind some towering book-
case with all signs poin ng to a violent death. Who commi ed this deed?
Once the grimoires are out in the courtyard, they are under constant surveillance, but if one were to go missing, there’d be no lack of
suspects with both the means and mo ve to steal it. Now all the PCs need to do is figure out which one of the conclave’s a endees
commi ed the crime.
Crystal Skeletons and Crypt Ooze: Adventures tell tales of odd construc ons found under the earth and in hoary old crypts, but even
the most exaggerated of these lies cannot trump the strange phenomenon that are crystal skeletons—or that which creates them.
Crystal skeletons are the animated skeletal remains of humanoids or animals. Each appears as a complete set of bones cra ed from the
finest glass. Inside each bone are wisps of lavender gas that dri about like a wizard’s pipe smoke trapped under a drinking cup. This
gas is slightly luminescent, giving each crystal skeleton a haun ngly beau ful glow that the bones’ crystal composi on refracts to form
gli ering rainbows of color. An adventurer couldn’t wish for a more gorgeous death.
Crystal skeletons are twice a formidable as normal skeletons in terms of power levels and health, and are affected by priestly a empts
to banish them as if they were two classes higher. Their crystal bones, despite their fragile appearance, are very resilient: piercing or
edged weapons only do a single point of damage (plus any magical or strength bonuses) and bludgeoning a acks inflict half damage.
Any a ack that inflicts maximum damage or one that destroys a crystal skeleton causes the bones to break, releasing the gas trapped
inside. All creatures within a 10-foot-diameter of the skeleton must make a resistance check against poison or suffer the effects of
exposure to this mist.
The mist trapped inside a crystal skeleton varies from place to place and some mes from skeleton to skeleton. Numerous effects have
been documented and the game master is free to customize the effects of the crystal skeleton mist. Suggested effects include acid
damage, blindness, sleep, paralysis, or even death.
Crystal skeletons are unintelligent, but they are prone to repea ng the ac ons they regularly performed in life. Crystal skeleton sol-
diers march, skeletal kings rule, and crystalline mages a empt spells without success. These ac ons, combined with their apparently
constructed nature, make most adventurers who survive an encounter with them assume that crystal skeletons are cra ed by some
sen ent designer. This is not true.
Crypt ooze can be treated as any colorful type of slime or ooze the game master desires with some addi onal abili es. While crypt ooze
usually feasts on dead bones, starving specimens have been known to a ack the living. It secretes a caus c acid that affects flesh and
leather. Each successful strike the ooze lands on a vic m has a 15% chance of damaging the defender’s bones as the acid burns away
the flesh and the ooze begins to feed. When this occurs, the ooze regains 1-6 hit points automa cally and the vic m takes 1-2 points
of damage each round as the bones begin to transform. This transforma on takes 10 minutes a er which me the vic m dies. Spells
that cure disease or remove aliments stops the process, but the vic m permanently loses 5 points of agility and has his movement rate
reduced by half as a result of his transformed bones. Spells that transform stone to flesh change the afflicted bones back to normal,
restoring lost agility and movement.
Gluke Sponge: In the shallow southern seas some coral reefs are tended to by aqua c races the way a patch of good farmland is over-
seen by surface folk. These underwater gardens sprout unusual crops, some of which make their way to the most cosmopolitan of
seaside ci es. While the majority of these crops are eaten, some, like the gluke sponge, have odder uses.
Although most sponges’ absorbency is limited to liquids, the gluke sponge absorbs sound, making the area around it completely silent.
Pieces of gluke are in high demands amongst thieves, assassins, and other professions whose watchword is silence. An apple-sized bit
of gluke sponge will absorb the sound of a single person; a cantaloupe-sized one the noise of three. A whole gluke sponge, which grows
to be slightly larger than a watermelon, will absorbed all sound in a 15-foot radius.
Like all sponges, gluke sponge can only absorb so much before becoming saturated. Each piece of sponge is only good for a limited
dura on of use and it cannot be “wrung out” and used again. A gluke sponge absorbs a half-hour of sound in a rela vely quite se ng
(such as a dungeon) and only ten minutes of noise in a loud one like a busy tavern or city market. A deafening and possible damaging
explosion of sound or sonic power will completely sa ate the sponge’s absorp on power.
Although gluke sponges are considered useless a er they’ve become saturated with sound, there are rumors that some wizards are
working on a method to release the sponge’s accumulated noise so that they can be reused, or as some whisper, as a weapon that
releases all the absorbed noise in a blast of sonic power.
The King Moon has an effect on those in power, gran ng them a temporary bonus to any a ributes or skills pertaining to command.
Appearance, charisma, leadership, and other abili es are increased by +1 or +10% depending on their range, and any rolls involving
ge ng others to follow one’s commands gain a +2/+10% bonus. Spells that charm or sway emo ons also benefit from this bonus
regardless of if the caster holds a posi on of power or not.
The Moot of Hronk (Day of the Scorpion, 12th of The Blaze): The canyons and outcroppings of the southwestern badlands reverberate
with the sound of drumming and fierce war cries on this night. Once a year, the sca ered orcish tribes of the fron er gather in this
wild land to se le grievances, make pacts, contend against one another, and divine the future. For days before and a er this night, orc
bands are abroad in great numbers as they journey to and from the site of the moot. Wise travelers and all but the most fool-hardy of
explorers stay off the fron er during this me.
During the celebra on, which is held in honor of Hronk, the orcish deity of strength, up to fi y orcish tribes can be found in a endance.
In addi on to the usual fights that address insults and formalize the pecking order amongst the orcs, a grand “no-holds-barred” melee
is held. From the survivors of this ba le, new members of the F’larg-Mug’Trusk are chosen, these being the migh est of orcs who serve
as the orc king’s elite bodyguards and warriors.
Despite the entertainment that this ba le provides, the highlight of the moot is the divina on ceremony which is held at the height
of the moon’s nightly journey. Sacrifices chosen from the orc tribes’ numerous slaves and cap ves are tossed into a rocky pit occupied
by gigan c scorpions. A er these arachnids have stung and mauled their vic ms, the bodies are retrieved and the orcish shamans
examine the placement of the sacrifices’ wounds and the discolora on of their flesh from the scorpions’ poison. These marks are then
interpreted as omens for the future.
Any party of adventurers headed into the badlands in the days surrounding the moot is going to find its ravines and gullies crawling
with savage orcs. To make ma ers worse, these groups always contain excep onal specimens hoping to compete for membership in
the F’larg-Mug’Trusk. These orcs possess maximum health, increased combat acumen, and possibly special abili es like berserker rage,
the ability to ignore one type of damage, or possess fe shes or talismans with magic powers.
The Moot of Hronk can be used by the game master to embroil the PCs in an against-the-clock rescue mission. Some family member
or ally of the adventurers has been kidnapped by orcs bound for the moot and is des ned to be thrown to the scorpions at the height
of the celebra on. It is up to the PCs to somehow infiltrate a gathering of numerous excep onal orcs, rescue the prisoner(s), and then
escape the inhuman horde. A twist on this adventure idea is for the adventurers to begin the campaign as prisoners at the moot, forc-
ing them to concoct a great escape before they are sacrificed themselves. Such a beginning is a great start to an “against-the-human-
oids” campaign where the PCs fight to turn back a savage invasion into civilized lands.
For an even crazier and poten ally more fun game, the game master might reverse ma ers and have the players take the roles of orcs
on their way to the moot. Once there, the PCs find themselves immersed in the orcish lifestyle, and must fight their way up the pecking
order to have a shot at becoming members of the F’larg-Mug’Trusk. This type of campaign could be played straight, giving the players
new insight into what it means to be an orc, or it could be done tongue-in-cheek, becoming a spectacular session of violence, postur-
ing, and even melodrama unseen outside of the world of professional wrestling. This makes for the perfect short dura on game to run
in between more serious campaigns.
The Seething Idol is a relic le over from the earliest days of man, an ar fact carved when the seas were shallower and warmer, and
great island na on states made war against one another with ba le barges of bronze. In those prehistoric days, the society of man was
dominated by a strict caste system. Some were born nobles and granted access to a world of leisure and debase pleasures. Others were
birthed into slavery and empires were built by their endless toil.
As is wont to occur when liberty is unequal amongst men, the slave caste looked for respite from their lot, seeking salva on from both
mundane and mys c sources. These slaves learned that if one calls into the darkness long enough, some mes the darkness answers.
The tenebrous forces that answered their pleas gi ed them with a small, unsightly carving and told the slaves that if they paid it obse-
quious devo on, their libera on would follow.
The slaves did as instructed and the Seething Idol took their rage, frustra on, and pain, and molded it into a tanic monstrosity of pure
anger that laid their masters’ homes to ruin. What the dark forces who provided the idol failed to men on was the crea on birthed
by the statue was uncontrollable once unleashed. This anger elemental destroyed indiscriminately and the slaves died alongside their
hated masters. Those shadowy powers who spawned the idol kept their word of sorts: the slaves did win their freedom from bondage,
just not as they imagined. Since its entrance into the world, the Seething Idol has been lost and rediscovered countless mes, always
resurfacing in places and mes where it can do the most harm.
The Seething Idol has the power to concentrate the anger and frustra ons of those who pay regular homage to it into a physical mani-
festa on of nega ve emo ons. Called an anger elemental or rage golem by sages, this crea on manifests as a towering humanoid,
never less than 20 feet in height and reaching up to 60 feet tall when it possesses maximum hit levels. It has only the crudest of human-
like features: a slit for a nose, shallow depressions for eyes, and a round, pit-like hole for a mouth. Its hands and feet bear only the
sugges on of fingers and toes. Most unnerving are the thousands of wailing human-sized mouths that cover its naked body, screaming
incessantly in anger.
Anger elementals bear one level for every twenty people who worship the Seething Idol, up to a maximum of 20 hit levels. They are
equal to other elementals in terms of armor and resilience to non-magical weapons. Anger elemental enjoy a +4/+20% bonus against
any magic that use emo on as its basis. They move and inflict damage as if they were the largest of giants. These creatures can also
hurl rocks, wagons, por ons of buildings, and other debris as if a giant throwing boulders. Once every three combat rounds, the anger
elemental can unleash a blast of pure emo on that enrages, terrifies, or confuses anyone in a 20-foot radius up to 60 feet away. It can
also howl three mes a day. This howl destroys structures and inflicts damage as if it were a blas ng horn.
When summoned, an anger elemental always a acks the target of its creators’ rage first. Once this target or targets is destroyed, the
elemental begins an uncontrollable rampage throughout the surrounding vicinity, wreaking havoc on anyone and anything in its path.
It will eventually return to the loca on of the Seething Idol and turn upon its worshippers. As these devotees are slain, the elemental
loses power at the rate of one hit level for every twenty worshippers killed. It vanishes completely when the last individual who helped
power it has been slain.
Sorcerer’s Pox: Although disease is a common cause of death amongst the masses, those esteemed individuals who can call upon the
forces of magic to do their bidding seldom concern themselves with fears of plague. A er all, why fear illness when one can call upon
the cosmic powers of the universe to drive away disease? This complacency is sha ered when rumors of sorcerer’s pox begin to spread.
This disease is the bane of anyone who can cast spells or bears faerie blood (elves, gnomes, sprites, fauns, brownies, etc.). It can be
contracted in one of two ways: coming into contact with an infected individual or by giving or receiving spell energy to or from some-
one afflicted with sorcerer’s pox. Individuals who cannot work magic are only 5% likely to contract the disease. Those with faerie blood
or magic ability have a base 20% chance of contrac ng sorcerer’s pox plus an addi onal +5% chance for each level above the first they
possess. Thus a beginning elf fighter would be 20% likely to catch sorcerer’s pox and a 5th-level wizard would be 40% likely. The game
master should check for infec on each me the subject encounters someone with the disease, casts a spell upon an ill individual, or
receives magic from an afflicted caster.
Sorcerer’s pox inflicts 1-2 points of damage to the vic m each day the disease ravages his system. At the end of each 24 hour period, a
resistance roll against poison is made. A er three consecu ve successful rolls or 1d3+1 weeks, the disease is defeated—provided the
vic m survives. In addi on to the daily damage suffered by most vic ms of the disease, spellcasters and those creatures with spell-like
powers suffer 1 point of damage for each spell level they can cast. This addi onal damage is based on the levels of spells accessible by
Sorcerer’s pox, by its very nature, is resistant to magical healing. Spells that cure disease or otherwise remove bodily afflic ons have
only a 10% chance of working against someone inflicted with the disease. Addi onally, each failed a empt to cure the disease by
magical means inflicts another 1d6 points of damage to the vic m. Spells that heal damage are somewhat more effec ve and cure half
their normal number of damage points. The game master should of course check to see if the one cas ng the healing spell contracts
the disease from his or her pa ent.
There are old wives’ tales that say sorcerer’s pox can be cured by a number of odd means. These methods include bathing in the waters
from the Flame Spring (see p. 33), drinking a concoc on made of antediluvian vintage (see p. 47) and nivaluvas (see p. 20), or any
other remedy the game master might devise.
Starfall
Gecko Dragon Turtle Mullet Anteater Mussel Kingfisher Bee
1 2 3 4 5 6 7
Cavalcade The Striding Doom Puzzle Cavalcade Ends Market day
Begins Tower Reaches First Explored
the Forest (591 GCY)
(8/27)
G (8/28) (8/29) (8/30) (8/31) (9/1) (9/2)
Okapi Ibis Toad Newt Caterpillar Sidewinder Gopher
22 23 24 25 26 27 28
Storm Lord’s Market Day Horned Moon Gudrokfeir Astrologer’s Rest
Anvil Completed Night
(-6,399 GCY)
(9/3) (9/4)
@ (9/5) (9/6) (9/7) (9/8) (9/9)
Starfall
Many consider the ninth month of the Grand Course of Days to be the most idyllic. The heat of The Blaze has ended, the crops grow
ripe and strong, and the days are long and peaceful. During this month, the stars streak across the sky in an annual dance known as the
Face of Starry Tears, bringing magic and wonder into even the most humdrum lives.
Thos born under the sign of Aegar the Shieldman, the cosmic defender of heroes, bear the traits of their namesake. Shields are staunch
allies and those who have them as friends can o en accomplish more than they could alone. Shields can some mes become too
focused on their goals, making them ill-prepared to deal with unexpected challenges that arise in pursuit of their ends.
The origin of Cavalcade is unknown to most of its celebrants, but sages point to an ancient tale involving demigods who walked the
earth, a bet between heaven and hell, and a shipwrecked company of mercenaries who came ashore on an island that housed a temple
of the Lust goddess. It is a ribald tale and an appropriate one in light of the ac vi es of Cavalcade.
During these five days, discipline is suspended and the usual order of things is reversed. Masters tend to the needs of their servants,
lascivious behavior is encouraged, sobriety is eschewed, cross-dressing becomes the norm, and even the role of ruler is not safe from
mockery. For the dura on of Cavalcade, it is tradi on that the ruler step down and a slave or criminal elevated to the rank of nobility
for the length of fes val. For the next five days, the “King of Misrule” lives a life of opulence and debauchery, and any proclama ons he
makes are enforced as law—within reason. Despite the allowances of the fes val, crimes such as murder and treason are not tolerated.
From the dawn of the first day of Cavalcade to dusk on the last day, all grudges and quarrels are forgo en to the point where even
wars are interrupted. Businesses, schools, and courts shut down, and taverns and inns work double or triple me to keep up with the
celebrants. In some ci es, criminals are set free during the fes val. Revelers stumble down avenues choked with drunken, half-clad
celebrants, nego a ng their way through pools of spilled wine, vomit, and blood, and piles of shed garments as they travel from tavern
to party to masquerade ball. Games, dances, and music are everywhere and, somewhat surprisingly, the arts get a tremendous boost
in popularity during Cavalcade. Rudimentary stages are erected and theatre troupes, acrobats, mummers, and mimes all perform for
raucous crowds. Of course, most of these performances are lewd in nature and some mes performed by unclad actors, but for many
people it is the only exposure to the arts they receive all year.
Cavalcade comes to a close in a violent climax, albeit one witnessed only by the most bloodthirsty of revelers. Just as the sun sets on
the final day, the King of Misrule is escorted from his temporary throne and brought to the town commons. There, a proclama on is
read, announcing that his reign has ended and order must be restored to the land. No longer the potentate, the former King of Misrule
is executed, usually by beheading. Most revelers are passed out a er five solid days of debauchery and only a small number of ci zens
a end the formal end of the fes val.
This fes val’s bacchanalia allows the game master to turn any place into a temporary “sin city” where the adventurers can revel in
drunkenness and debauchery rather than probing crumbling ruins for treasure. Because of the “anything goes” a tude of the fes val,
it gives the PCs a chance to indulge in whims and behaviors they might not otherwise engage in. This sudden relaxa on of restric ons
presents an unusual conundrum to the more lawful (or up ght, depending on one’s personal outlook) PCs. Do they turn their noses
up in disgust at the an cs of their companions or do they take advantage of the situa on and indulge in some of their own much-
repressed tendencies? Maybe even the gods themselves let their proverbial hair down during Cavalcade…
Like certain real world sin ci es, there is a dark side to Cavalcade and numerous crimes are commi ed during its run. The PCs might find
themselves involved with any of these misdeeds, either as vic ms, par cipants, or inves gators. If the PCs are trying to solve a crime
commi ed during Cavalcade, they’ll have to contend with witnesses with wine-fogged memories, suspects with alibis they might not
wish to become public (or known at all), and mo ves that range from simple drunken street violence to deep-seated and long-denied
revenge plots.
Although the origin of the Doom Puzzle is uncertain, too many adventurers have become acquainted with its lethal peculiari es. A
maze of chambers, sha s, stairs, ramps, and rooms occupy the cube’s interior, making naviga on to the dungeon’s heart a near-impos-
sible feat. To add to the challenge, these corridors and rooms regularly shi and slide accompanied by thundering groans and ratchet-
ing shrieks. As the interior rearranges, doors seal shut, rooms rise or fall, and staircases compress, killing anyone unfortunate enough
to be caught within. These permuta ons occur without warning or schedule, and their varia ons seem infinite. Despite this hazard, the
persistent rumor that the puzzle houses the last remaining stave of mages keeps luring the bold to dare its halls.
Game masters seeking to use the Doom Puzzle are advised to employ abstract mapping techniques when designing the dungeon,
unless they consider themselves cartographers of the first water. The endlessly changing layout of the puzzle is difficult to reproduce
in a sta c, two-dimensional format. The game master might wish to create a dozen “set piece” rooms filled with monsters, traps, and
treasures of varying difficulty. As the characters explore the Doom Puzzle, present them with several op ons (a doorway, a set of stairs,
a branching tunnel) and secretly assign one to be the correct choice, one as an incorrect choice, and a third as neither right nor wrong.
A er the characters make their decision, present them with one of the prearranged rooms. A er they conclude that encounter, give
them another three op ons on how to proceed from there, again determining which is correct, incorrect, and indifferent. Note when
they make a correct choice and keep track of how many mes they do so. A er a predetermined number of correct choices (ten,
twenty, or a hundred, depending on how cruel the game master feels), the party reaches the central and final encounter. The game
master should occasionally describe how the halls ratchet and shi during the party’s explora ons and have them encounter traps
and other challenges outside of rooms from me to me. This ad hoc method allows the game master to portray the Doom Puzzle’s
constantly changing interior in a manner that makes it challenging without driving himself crazy accoun ng for the incessant altera-
ons of the maze’s layout.
The Face of Starry Tears (Day of the Grasshopper to the Day of the Nau lus, 10th – 16th of Starfall): Every year, over the course of the
seven nights on or around this date, the night sky is filled with falling stars. Gradually increasing in frequency as the week progresses,
this star fall is celebrated by almost every culture. Of all the goodly races, only the dwarves hold no special rites during this me, likely
due to their predominantly subterranean existence. The elves believe that these falling stars are the spirits of their ancestors who’ve
come to keep watch over their descendents. Prayers are said to these spirits, fires are lit in their memory, and drama c reenactments
of their deeds are held in every elven se lement.
In the eastern lands, the Dragon Kings force their subjects to dance without rest each night un l the star fall ends. In those lands it
is said that the falling stars are the embers rising from the Night Dragon’s snout as it slowly awakens from it eons-long slumber, and
unless the people drum and dance it will fully awaken to burn the world. In the lands of the Arboreal Kings, these nights are observed
by candlelight processions that wind their way through the fields and woods outside of towns. It is believed that the star fall coincides
with the emergence of lucky spirits, and that anyone who captures one, which is done by pouring wax upon its feet, will be granted his
or her heart’s desire.
In the empire, the Face of Starry Tears is a me of quiet wonder, a soulful cleansing a er the excesses of Cavalcade. Friends and fami-
lies take in the night air a er dinner is finished, gathering in clearings, on hilltops, and on breezy beaches to gaze up in wonder at the
seemingly endless parade of falling stars. The almost magical display casts a spell upon its viewers, bringing them closer to both one
another and their own insignificant place in the cosmos. Not unsurprisingly, births spike nine months a er the Face of Starry Tears and
these children some mes display a knack for spellcas ng or prophecy.
The Face of Starry Tears has a minor, but profound effect on those races that dwell on the surface. During the week of this event, all
encounters between intelligent, surface dwelling creatures are less likely to be immediately hos le. Game masters who use a random
reac on table should shi the ini al result of any die roll made on that table one step closer to a friendly reac on. Those who use other
methods should skew the results slightly in the direc on of amicability. This modifica on only applies to the ini al reac on between
par es and their ac ons can and will worsen a tudes. Likewise, encounters between races with long standing animosity are only 25%
likely to be affected by the wonder of the celes al display overhead.
The Ghost Eater’s Mask gives the wearer a +2 or +10% defensive bonus against any a ack from incorporeal undead. Depending on the
rules used, this bonus is applied to armor class, dodge percentage, damage soak, etc. This modifier also applies to any roll made to
resist the effects of a spirit’s a ack if applicable.
The mask allows the wearer to inflict damage on undead spirits by physically bi ng them and rending their protoplasmic forms. The
wearer must be within melee range of the undead spirit and the damage inflicted is equal to a longsword plus any normal modifiers
due to strength or combat prowess. If the mask’s wearer slays his undead adversary, he makes a test against magic. If this test is suc-
cessful, the wearer temporarily gains one (75%), two (20%), or three (5%) traits, skills, or pieces of knowledge that the spirit possessed
in life. These bits of consumed knowledge remain in the eater’s memory for 1d12 hours before fading away.
What the eater acquires is le to the game master, but sugges ons include a minor bonus to a ack roll when using a specific weapon,
a small increase in defensive acumen, knowledge of the current adventuring site (history, layout, traps, etc.), the ability to cast a minor
spell or enchantment, or any other lesser talent based on what the consumed spirit was in life. If the encounter doesn’t specify the
spirit’s previous occupa on, assume it was a soldier or commoner and grant an appropriate skill or modifier.
Gra tude of the Healed (Day of the Unicorn, 19th of Starfall): Tradi onally, those who have received the ministra ons of a healer dur-
ing the previous year repay them for their services on this day. These gi s of gra tude are based on what the pa ent can afford and
range from a chicken to a purse of coins to a jewel-encrusted token of their thanks. The day is not celebrated with much grandeur or
pomp and is usually marked by the healed calling upon their healer to express gra tude.
PCs healers should use this day to tac ully remind their fellow adventurers of all the aid they’ve given them during the past year. At
the game master’s discre on, those who fail to offer their apprecia on to the healer (or his church, if applicable) may discover that the
healer’s ministra ons no longer work on them. Only adequate compensa on will correct this ma er.
Gudrokfeir (Day of the Newt, 25th of Starfall): Life can be difficult when you’re a dozen feet tall, dwell amongst the unforgiving land-
scape of towering mountains, and share your hun ng ground with dragons, rocs, and other creatures even bigger than you. Finding
enough food to feed your family is hard enough as it is without these challenges. This is why the great mountain giants of the Tumbled
Mountains take one day each year to celebrate their good fortune and give thanks to their stony dei es for the blessings they’ve given
them. This holiday is Gudrokfeir or “Rich Mountain Feast” in the common tongue of Man.
On this day, families of mountain giants gather in their caves or enormous mber and sod halls to eat, drink, and enjoy the company
of clan, friends, and trusted allies. The celebra on is marked by a tanic feast of roasted goat, the consump on of mass quan es of
kefir (fermented goat’s milk), and the obligatory and raucous feats of strength. The usual athle c games enjoyed on Gudrokfeir range
from wrestling (both between two giants of equal size and against their semi-tame cave bear pets); facengrubble, a sledding race that
uses no toboggan, relying instead on a giant leaping onto a slope of gravel and shale and sliding face-first towards the bo om of the
rocky incline; and “chuck ‘em,” a tradi onal game that involves hurling small boulders at stone posts that o en turns dangerous as the
increasingly drunken giants’ aim begins to suffer.
Gudrokfeir is spent close to home during the morning and early a ernoon, but as twilight approaches, the mountain giants go out to
visit neighboring clans, making chance encounters with giants more likely as the day progresses and night falls. At this me, any moun-
tain giants encountered abroad are likely to be intoxicated from celebra ng, resul ng in either the jovial gree ng of strangers or quick
violence, depending on whether they are “happy” or “mean” drunks. There are several famous tales of adventuring par es encounter-
ing and befriending mountain giants on this night with mixed results. Some human-sized adventurers end up gravely injured or even
killed as a result of being dragged into the mountain giants’ games. Others use the opportunity to rob the drunken tans blind, fleeing
into the night to leave the giants with nothing more than a hangover come morning. In any event, the giants have an equal chance of
remembering the events of the previous night or recalling nothing but a blurry account of late night depravity. Woe are those who do
the giants wrong and are remembered come morning. Mountain giants have long strides and monstrous stamina with which to run
down wrongdoers who took advantage of them…
Any magic or enchanted item that conjures up devils or demons has its chance of success increased by 50% on the night of the Horned
Moon. Spells that automa cally bring up such a creature either summon twice the normal amount or one specimen of the next more
powerful variety. Spells and other effects that work to cast demons and devils back to their home plane have a flat 50% chance of failing
during this night and the game master should check to see if the incanta on or device fails a er the player makes any rolls necessary
to determine if his character successfully employs such methods.
There exists a legend that a night will come when the Horned Moon is subject to a full lunar eclipse. On that night, the legend say, all
hell will literally break loose and the realms of man, elf, and orc will be subsumed by evil forever. A small sect of stargazers es mate
that such an eclipse will occur in 1012 GCY.
The Storm Lord’s Anvil: Amongst the rocky foothills of the great mountains lies an unusual stone outcropping, dis nct for both it color-
a on and what lies atop it. Although the surrounding exposed rock is pale granite, this outcrop is black-grey in color and striated with
veins of maroon iron ore. The top of the outcrop has been shaped by intelligent hands – a por on of the stone is carved into the shape
of an anvil si ng atop a flat pla orm of stone. Steep stairs carved along the side of the outcrop provide access to its top. Sparse grass
and moss cling to rock’s surface, ruffled by the mountain winds.
The anvil stands 11.5 feet long by 5 feet wide by 6.5 feet tall, its horn poin ng due north. Its rocky surface is cracked and scorched by
lightning strikes and the grass around its base is blackened. Faint marks sugges ng wri ng run along the edges of the stone anvil, but
me and the elements have rendered them illegible. When thunderstorms roll down from the mountains, the high iron content of this
outcrop a racts lightning that hammers down upon the anvil, giving the landmark its name.
Despite some assump ons, the Storm Lord’s Anvil is not a dwarven ar fact but one da ng to an earlier period of humanity’s develop-
ment. Legend tells that it was on this site that the gods imparted the secret of iron to mankind, and it was here that the great weapons
of prehistory were forged. Indeed some blacksmith cra socie es require journeymen to take a pilgrimage to this place before assum-
ing the rank of master.
The maroon hema te that meanders through the exposed stone is unusual and bears a spark of divine power. Using this ore, a master
smith can create weapons and armor that bear a minor enchantment vs. undead and demonic creatures. The cost for a wizard to create
a magical item against these same creatures is half normal if this ore is used in its construc on. Any ore removed from the outcrop is
replaced by new deposits which appear overnight.
However, before this hema te can be mined, permission from the gods must first be granted. This is accomplished by a cleric com-
muning with the appropriate deity on the behalf of the one wishing to collect the ore. Once permission is given, the hema te can be
collected, but only in the amount required to produce one item. Hema te collected from the outcrop only provides the benefits noted
above to the individual permi ed to collect it. In the hands of the third-party, it is normal iron ore. If hema te is collected from this site
without seeking permission or more than the needed amount of ore is taken, the offending party is struck by the steel-curse.
The steel-curse is a simple, yet deadly form of divine retribu on. Any me the cursed individual misuses an item that contains steel or
iron (a missed a ack with a sword, an iron wand whose effect is negated, a missed ability check when using a tool, etc.), the individual
must make a resistance roll against spells or suffer damage from the item. A warrior would be struck by his own sword, a mage blasted
by his own wand, and a cra sman would injure himself with his tool. Although the wound inflicted is seldom fatal, the gradual a ri on
the cursed party suffers from these injuries eventually leads to his demise. The steel-curse can only be removed by a patriarch of the
offended god, who usually requires the cursed individual to perform a quest or other method of atonement beforehand.
T (9/11)
(998 GCY)
(9/10) (9/12) (9/13) (9/14) (9/15) (9/16)
Sapsucker Horseshoe Crab Pegasus Nuthatch Gharial Platypus Ca ish
8 9 10 11 12 13 14
Kondehl Market Day Autumnal
Del’Tempi is Equinox
Born
* (9/19)
(952 GCY)
(9/17) (9/18) (9/20) (9/21) (9/22) (9/23)
Woodchuck Flamingo Squid Prairie Dog Mudskipper Lionfish Lamprey
15 16 17 18 19 20 21
Herbalist’s Rest Market Day Minstrel Meet
Begins
The Reap
As its name implies, the tenth month of the year heralds the start of the harvest, and villages become fran c with ac vity as the hard
work of bringing in the crops begins. This ac vity in the countryside is mimicked behind city walls as merchants, traders, and guildsmen
make arrangements to take possession of their promised part of the farmland’s yield and turn it into hard coin. The skirmishes of sum-
mer have been resolved and the roads are crowded with dra ed soldiers and mili amen rushing home for the harvest.
The Reap is tradi onally the me when adventuring bands begin to plan for the winter. Exploring delves is hazardous enough without
the fear of freezing to death in the wilderness. For most treasure hunters, The Reap is the me to plan one last foray into the depths to
find a final big haul to see them through the long winter in the spendthri and raucous style they’re accustomed to. Compe on for
delving rights becomes even fiercer during this month.
Due to the collec ve emphasis on boun ful harvests during this me, any spell or magic effect that creates food, drink, or other sub-
stance produces twice its normal amount. Nature magic is also especially potent on this date and any spell involving earth or fire takes
effect as if the caster were three ranks greater in power.
Those engaged in outdoor travel should be wary on this date. Bears are preparing for their long winter sleep and are both cranky and
robust with stored fat. Any bear encountered in the wild will be automa cally hos le towards the party unless they have magic or influ-
ence over wild creatures, and will possess a +25% greater capacity for damage due to their layers of winter fat.
The Excellent Appraiser: Deep in the bowels of the Imperial Library there is a small chamber, one whose ny size is further cramped
by shelves of tomes, scrolls, and codices that threaten to topple over. The room’s sole source of illumina on is a magical orb that casts
a harsh white light, throwing stark shadows against the walls and ceiling. This is the kingdom of Kondehl Del’Tempi, master of prov-
enance.
Del’Tempi is a youthful looking man, and only the wrinkles around his eyes and his widow’s peak hint that he is closer to fi y winters
than the thirty he appears. He has an academic’s physique—sunken chest, pot belly, and gangly limbs—and rarely speaks louder than
a whisper. Although he is physically meek, Del’Tempi is a mental tan when it comes to ar facts and an qui es. Not even the wisest
dwarven sages or the oldest elven wizards can match his accumulated knowledge of the origins and manufacture—the provenance—of
archaic items from history.
From the smallest clay pot to gold and pla num diadems of dead kings, Del’Tempi needs only a moment to pull the item’s history from
his encyclopedic memory before unleashing a verbal torrent of facts, anecdotes, legends, and other bits of lore associated with that
object’s place and me. Adventurers who visit the scholar with a relic discovered during their delves are certain to leave with a plethora
of addi onal facts—any one of which might lead to further adventures, riches, or danger.
Fortune hunters who deal with Del’Tempi wonder why such a knowledgeable man is kept cloistered in the library’s sub cellars. Specula-
on that he offended a powerful noble or possesses knowledge that must be kept secret is common, but the truth is simply that he has
been forgo en by the library’s chief administrators, lost like a useful book in the byzan ne chain of command that plagues the facility.
Outside his direct superior and the clerk who handles the payroll, Del’Tempi is unknown by the other scholars who work at the great
repository of knowledge.
Del’Tempi would like to be remembered, but his unassuming manner and an upbringing that emphasized never rocking the boat keeps
him a forgo en asset. It is his dream to one day move to a room that actually sees sunlight. He’s also wri en several books on ancient
history and submi ed them to the library for publica on. Each was refused and discarded because, as far as the library knows, they
were wri en by persons unassociated with the facility. Should the PCs decide to take up his cause and succeed in drawing a en on to
the neglected scholar, they will gain a lifelong ally with considerable knowledge. In the process, however, they might unwi ngly earn
the enmity of some of the library’s other scholars who currently enjoy the benefits of being considered the library’s elite lore masters.
Some may go as far as arranged murder to express their displeasure.
On the a ernoon of the fes val, a endees gather on the hilltops overlooking the valley. Each has brought an earthenware jug which
contains a mixture of milk, honey, ashes from their hearth, a drop of blood, and the leaves of several local herbs. They hope to be
chosen by lot to be allowed to leave their container out on one of the forty-seven stone slabs found on the valley floor. At one me,
the fes val was on a first-come basis, but violence and claims that the nearest villages enjoyed an unfair advantage resulted in a lo ery
system being established. Now a local priest or alterna ng village elder is tasked with drawing forty-seven names from an old ale keg.
A er all forty-seven have been picked, each places his or her jug upon a stone and the fes val begins in earnest. Large cooking fires are
kindled and the residents of the villages join together to eat, drink, talk business, and carouse. Single men and women flirt and parents
begin discussing possible matches between the children.
A er dark, as the moon begins to rise, the fes val takes a more solemn tone as religious rites honoring the moon are held. Newborn
children are held up in the air to be bathed in the full moon’s light and those with ailments expose the afflicted part of the body to the
moon’s so rays. A er these rites are completed, most of the villagers begin their trek home, leaving only those whose jars rest in the
valley below and a handful of diehard revelers behind.
All through the night, those whose jars are bathed in the moonlight keep watch to make certain their vessels are not tampered with
or stolen. A er dawn has broken, each person collects his jug, sniffing the contents to see what elixir the moon has gi ed him with
before returning home. Tradi onally, a small offering is made to the local lunar temple in thanks once the beneficiary of the moon’s
gi reaches his or her home village.
It is likely that once the PCs hear rumors of a place that produces free po ons they’ll wish to inves gate. Unfortunately, moon elixirs
are only created once a year and only those containers that rest upon the valley’s white slabs are affected. Fortunately for the PCs,
although the fes val is usually a ended only by local residents, there is no prohibi on that restricts outsiders from taking part in the
lo ery for the right to leave a jug out overnight. The only difficulty would be learning the proper mixture of ingredients needed to cre-
ate the brew that forms the elixir’s base. They’d have to influence a local resident to teach them how.
Each moon elixir is only good for three uses regardless of how large its container. It also loses potency a er one month, so the elixir
is used as soon as possible. It is common for villagers to share their elixirs amongst themselves, especially as the end of the potency
period is nearing. It’s be er that someone get the benefits of the po on rather than let it go to waste.
There are eight types of moon elixirs, but there is no way to predict which effect a par cular jug will be gi ed with. Luckily, the eight
types each have a par cular odor and their long familiarity with the elixirs has taught the locals to iden fy the effects by smell. To
determine what moon elixir is formed, roll on the table below:
Milk Moon Night (Day of the Hippogriff, 25th of The Reap): There is undoubtedly a connec on between the name of this full moon and
the ceremony detailed above, but which preceded which is unknown. In any case, it is agreed that this full moon is usually the brightest
of the year’s moons and seems to have a purer white cast to it than on other months.
Folklore states that the brightness of the Milk Moon coaxes gemstones from their hidden beds, drawing them to the surface so that
they may capture some of the moon’s luminescence. Gem experts dismiss this as sheer nonsense, yet many are curiously absent from
their homes and businesses on this night and are instead observed bounding over moonlit hills with hammer and spade in hand.
There is a base 5% chance per hour that anyone searching in hilly or mountainous terrain stumbles across a random 1d4 gemstones
simply lying on the ground. The value of these stones is chosen by the game master. In addi on to these stones, any jewels found on
this night while mining or in the treasure troves of slain opponents should be increased in value by one step.
During these five days, Humburg transforms into the most musical town in the empire as it hosts nearly a thousand minstrels, bards,
singers, and other musical performers from both inside and outside the realm. The streets turn into riots of fes ve color and sound
as musicians set up makeshi stages to perform in taverns, inns, temples, marketplaces, and street corners, each compe ng with one
another for the a en on and, if they’re lucky, the patronage of music connoisseurs who come to hear these melodious pilgrims. Bards
of renown spend all year composing their next masterpieces for debut during Minstrel Meet and status-conscious nobles flock to the
fes val so they can claim to have heard the next musical phenomenon ahead of their peers back home.
For bards, Minstrel Meet is the most important five days of their lives each year, a chance to exhibit their talents under the most chal-
lenging condi ons. A minstrel is not considered to have truly arrived as a performer un l he has taken the stage during Minstrel Meet
and finished with a few gold coins in his hat. A good showing during the fes val can make one’s career. Some musicians earn enough
busking during the fes val they can spend the rest of the year composing and prac cing their cra rather than worrying about paying
the rent. The luckiest are those that catch the ear of a rich merchant or nobleman, one who makes the bard their official entertainer,
chronicler, and house musician. Compe on for these limited posi ons is especially fierce and it is not uncommon for physical ba les
to erupt amongst the performers in the streets and bawdy houses over a par cularly choice performance spot, some mes with fatal
results.
The fes val has another purpose besides showcasing musicians and their composi ons: it is also a hot bed of gossip. Bards are natural
rumormongers and love to top one another with juicy bits of scandal even more than they enjoy out-playing one another. From the
imbroglios of nobles to the scandals of clergy to the rumors of lost treasures, almost any so-called secret piece of lore can be acquired
during the fes val for the price of a good glass of sherry or a few coins thrown in the hat. Adventurers, wizards, spies, historians, and
others who earn their daily bread by prying into other people’s business descend on Minstrel Meet with just as much enthusiasm as
those who enjoy a rousing tune.
The Troops Long Past Review: When men speak of the cost of war, they talk of soldiers slain or grievously maimed or the innocent
caught in a maelstrom of blades. They almost never speak of the lost: those troops who took to the field and were never heard from
again. It smacks too much of magic and that is one subject the soldier knows best to avoid. Nevertheless, throughout the ages of man
soldiers have gone missing in conflicts, their bodies and souls beyond the solace of eternal rest. These men are collec vely known as
the Troops Long Past Review.
Scholars and priests deem these vanished men to have been collected as tribute by the gods of war and strife, taken bodily from this
world to the next, but if this is the truth, it does not explain the sigh ngs of ghostly legions that are at mes glimpsed on lonely fields
or in the chaos of ba le. Appearing as a motley collec on of translucent soldiers dressed in armor and bearing weapons from across
the centuries, the Troops Long Past Review march in search of the rest denied to them. Called by the clarion sounds of war horns, the
Troops some mes appear in the middle of the ba lefield, striking at all around them. No weapon can slay them and no foe can rout
them; the troops strike terror as they charge, their weapons inflic ng freezing wounds that kill by cold and cause forma ons to collapse
in despair.
Owing no more allegiances to any living potentate, the troops seek one who can bring an end to their unceasing campaign. Unfortu-
nately, neither they nor anyone else knows who can grant them respite. This has not stopped dozens of would-be kings and blood-
thirsty warlords from a emp ng to recruit these lost men to their banner. The prospect of having seemingly immortal soldiers under
one’s command is a temp ng one and more than one general has tried and died in the process of trying to win the troops’ favor.
The Troops Long Past Review remains a wild card in any conflict that occurs around the empire or just outside its borders. They appear
without warning and side with no cause, inflic ng casual es and routs whenever they appear. A empts by war priests to exorcise them
have all failed, resul ng in the deaths of the clergymen. Grizzled veterans are loath to speak of the troops for fear of a rac ng their
a en ons and being dra ed to their banner, but a few speak of the damned soldiers in hushed whispers around the watchfires, terrify-
ing unblooded youths with their tale. These same old veterans some mes speak of another legend regarding the troops: that one day
a landless warrior of common birth will become regent with the help of the troops. When a forgo en crown is placed upon his brow,
the troops will have fulfilled their role in the schemes of the gods and be allowed to finally rest. Whether there is truth to these tales
or if it is merely an old soldier’s hope that all veterans, regardless of faith, allegiance, or semblance of life should be allowed to at last
lay down their arms and fight no more, has yet to be seen.
While the effects of vaedium radia on vary, some of its different proper es have been documented. Vaedium has been known to
produce bizarre muta ons in those who suffer regular exposure to it, giving rise to tales of two-head goblinoid races and dragons
of unusual colors. It has also been known to create gravity fields that vary in both strength and direc on of a rac on. Weapons and
armor forged from the metal take on strange proper es, such as gran ng their wearer the ability to walk through walls or slash through
dimensional spheres to strike their opponents in their dreams. One extremely unbelievable account tells the tale of a race of clockwork
men who used vaedium as food or fuel by placing chunks of the ore inside their hollow chest cavi es.
For game purposes, vaedium serves as a support from which a game master can hang whatever odd or “unrealis c” events or creatures
he wishes to introduce to his campaign. It is a panacea for dealing with players who, despite the fact they’re playing a fantasy game,
require a scien fic or ra onal explana on for the oddi es that exist in the dungeon depths. Vaedium may be pseudo-science but it
func ons in this role admirably.
The fes val begins at dawn when the villagers gather to witness the rising of the sun. It is then that nature priests a end to secrets rites
in their sacred groves and glens, leaving the people to greet the sun with welcoming shouts and an invita on to the spirits of the wild
to spend the day with them. A er a communal breakfast in the town commons where servings of food are set aside for the spirits, the
residents gather at a special tree within the village boundaries. This sacred tree is usually the largest or oldest specimen in the area.
Girls in white dresses adorn the tree’s limbs with garlands, ribbons, and tokens carved to resemble nymphs, sylphs, satyrs, and other
nature spirits. In villages that abut ancient forests, it is not uncommon for treants to gather at the edge of the woods to observe and
some mes par cipate in this adora on of nature.
A er the decora on is complete, the townspeople walk the boundaries of their village, stopping to offer liba ons of wine and corn-
meal to certain trees, rocks, streams, and other natural landmarks which local lore associates with natural spirits. In the a ernoon,
the children play a game of hide-and-seek, in which one of their number dresses in garments and leaves of green to assume the role
of “Master Greentree,” a wood spirit who supposedly grants good luck to whoever find him. The adults take this opportunity to spend
me alone and it is no coincidence that many births occur nine months a er Verdan a.
In the evening, kegs of ale are opened, wine is poured, and meat is roasted on enormous spits. A large bonfire is raised on the village
green and dancers circle the flames. As the fire dies, celebrants leap over the dwindling flames and those who emerge unscathed are
said to be blessed in the coming year. At the evening end, each villager takes some of the ashes from the bonfire home, as these are
said to protect the home from ligh ng and wind storms.
During Verdan a encounters with natural spirits are usually respec ul if not friendly. Even those natural powers that normally enslave
or combat human and demihumans will allow them to pass unmolested if some token of tribute is provided. However, those that fail to
observe the ancient compact between mortal and spirit on this day are in grave peril and en re villages have been eradicated by angry
sprits when the proper rites were not observed. Those that go out of their way to please the spirits are o en rewarded with a minor
supernatural gi . These gi s include the ability to pass with ease through even the most tangled of underbrush, the companionship of
a small intelligent forest creature, or the power to speak with a certain class of animal.
Dodo
(10/8) (10/9)
Ostrich
(10/10)
Quoll
T (10/11)
Echidna
(10/12)
Oriole
(10/13)
Caiman
(10/14)
Mynah
8 9 10 11 12 13 14
Striding Tower The Market Day First Inmates
Disappears in Contrap onist’s Sent to the
the Badlands Tomb is Sealed Babble Pit
*
(599 GCY) (599 GCY)
(10/15) (10/16) (10/17) (10/18) (10/19) (10/20) (10/21)
Rust Monster Marmot Sturgeon Parandrus Porpoise Cuckoo Pika
15 16 17 18 19 20 21
Smith’s Rest Market Day
* (11/2)
(799 GCY)
(10/29) (10/30) (10/31) (11/1) (11/3) (11/4)
Cofferfill
The eleventh month in the Grand Course of Days is rife with prosperity. The harvest is coming in, filling silos, cribs, storerooms, and
barns with food for the winter ahead. In markets, wharfs, and trade houses, coins change hands in large sums as merchants and farm-
ers make good on contracts wri en up in The Blaze. The air grows cold, the trees are stripped bare, and the year slowly edges towards
its end.
Cofferfill marks the last full month of market days in northern climes, as soon the roads will be choked with the first snows of winter.
To see them through the cold, dark months ahead, traders, nkers, and peddlers roam the roads in greater, more desperate numbers,
each eager to fill their own coffers before the cold puts an end to trade. Mixed amongst them is the last straggling, poor adventuring
bands seeking to scrape together enough wealth to make it through the winter without having to resort to actual labor to earn their
keep.
In the old tales, Fes the Beggarman walks unscathed through the plots of kings and despots, poin ng out their flaws and foibles and
escaping retribu on for speaking truth. Those born under his sign are likewise keen-eyed, resilient, and their observa ons are usually
taken as construc ve cri cism. Some go too far, however, and earn reputa ons for being ill-mannered and uncouth. Beggars have dif-
ficulty holding on to money for long, but they can get by longer than most on luck and personality. Beggars occupy a wide variety of
occupa ons and are found as trusted advisors, cri cal thinkers, sharp-minded con men, and mud-spa ered derelicts. Many are prodi-
gious scholars by trade or inclina on.
This mental leper colony was once a quarry not far from the imperial capital. Its sheer marble cliffs and excavated hollows serve to
both contain the vic ms of the disease and provide crude shelter from the elements. A simple li system allows both new inmates and
regular meals to be introduced to the colony without bringing the small garrison of guards that oversee the “sanctuary” into contact
with its residents. Once a vic m enters the pit, he never comes out.
Unsurprisingly, the Babble Pit resembles a revol ng hell. Half-naked men and women streaked in filth yammer incessantly in a language
that even sorcery cannot decode. They live an animal existence, leaving their dead fellows to rot in the sun and fouling the sole spring
that provides water to the colony. Amidst the screams and gibberish, the sounds of rock being chipped away is some mes heard, leav-
ing the guards to believe that some inmates may be trying to dig their way out. These efforts are not interrupted by the guards as they
have no wish to enter the pit and risk madness and the chances of escape via crudely chipped tunnels is negligible given their lack of
tools, hardness of the stone, and the surrounding terrain.
Any human or humanoid creature that comes into direct contact with someone inflicted with babble leprosy has a 2 in 6 chance of
contrac ng the disease. Only a powerful cura ve spell applied during the first hour of exposure can remove the illness. A er such me,
it takes firm root in the vic m’s mind and only realty altering magics equal to a genie’s wish can restore the subject to sanity.
Once afflicted, the subject can no longer communicate in a comprehensible language. Spellcas ng becomes impossible as does the
use of power words and command phrases. For the first three weeks a er exposure, the vic m may a empt to maintain a normal
existence, but for each ac on they a empt, there is a 25% chance they engage in a random ac vity other than the one intended. These
alternate ac ons include walking in circles, engaging in compulsive behavior, banging one’s head repeatedly against the wall, pulling
out one’s own hair, or any other minor, self-injuring act. A er a month, the probability increase to a 75% chance. A er three months,
the vic m is too erra c to fend for himself. If the subject is a player character, he now becomes an NPC and the game master assumes
control of his fate.
Babble leprosy can be used as an adventure hook very easily. A friend, loved one, or even one the adventurers succumbs to the disease
and a cure must be found before they degenerate completely. The party may go in search of a method to cure their companion (a ring
of wishes, for example) or find a way to reverse the disease completely and restore all those who suffer from its effects (invoking divine
fortune, for instance). In either case, great challenges must be overcome before a cure can be found.
Used in another manner, the Babble Pit could be long empty; the illness vanished when the last vic m died of neglect at the bo om of
the quarry a century ago. Now the pit stands empty, a supposedly haunted place avoided for fear of the angry spirits who died there.
Yet rumors of a vast tunnel system excavated by some of the more lucid inmates con nue to be told in tavern tap rooms. In these tales,
the tunnels have become the homes of monsters and their treasure or the secret hiding place of a bandit gang’s stolen riches. Who
knows what a brave band might find at the bo om of the pit and what might make its home there now. The Babble Pit as a dungeon
allows the game master to indulge in some very odd whims in its design, reflec ng the diseased minds of the miners who carved it. For
an addi onal challenge, old quarries o en become flooded and the en re tunnel system might now be an underwater labyrinth filled
with creatures at home in that dangerous environment.
In me, however, the challenge of breaking traps held less and less interest to the young Contrap onist. So, in order to con nually
test his ability, he turned his eye to building his own malicious devices. And, as with disarming them, he proved to have an uncanny
talent for construc ng traps as well. Even the most skilled of his guild brothers couldn’t disarm his devices, a fact which caused the
guild masters concern. When the Contrap onist, perhaps overly prideful of his ability, sold one of his traps to a merchant prince, the
guild decided that, despite his usefulness, the Contrap onist posed a threat to the livelihood of professional burglars everywhere and
a empted to s ll his hands forever.
The Contrap onist escaped the assassina on a empts and fled from the Aeternal City, seeking sanctuary amongst the powerful trade
barons of the coast. There, secure behind his cunning designs, the Contrap onist designed elaborate deathtraps for treasuries, vaults,
and tombs. He o en charged exorbitant fees for his work, but would occasionally undertake work for free in order to test out a new
design or cunning innova on. More than a few simple crypts and minor storehouses contained a device fit for a king’s treasury merely
because the Contrap onist wanted to try out a mechanism. This personal peculiarity meant that robbers could never be certain where
his devices might appear and the merest whisper that the Contrap onist was seen near a tradesman’s vault was enough to cancel a
burglary.
Despite the success and wealth that his devices brought, the Contrap onist remained unsa sfied with his cra and undertook steps
to perfect it. Late in life, he appren ced himself to a wizard in order to learn how to incorporate magic into his traps, and although he
never mastered the art of spellcra , he did become an adept of respectable power.
Although he con nued to work for others, the Contrap onist spent the last decades of his life construc ng what was to be his magnum
opus: his own tomb. He purchased a plot of land in the western hills and constructed a labyrinthine subterranean crypt to hold his final
remains and riches a er his death. Employing the very best of the tricks and traps he learned over the course of his long career, the
Contrap onist built the ul mate deathtrap. When he died just a year a er its comple on, he and his treasures were interred within
and, according to his instruc ons, a simple lever was thrown to ac vate the various cunning devices that would protect his corpse and
wealth for eternity.
To this day, the Contrap onist’s tomb remains undisturbed, although numerous adventurers have tried. Nearly every last one has died
on the devices that this trap-master le behind. Despite the seeming impossibility of reaching the crypt’s central vault, reckless trea-
sure hunters con nue their a empts, driven on by the great wealth that awaits the one cunning enough to ou hink the Contrap onist
and defeat his deadliest of devices.
The Contrap onist’s Tomb: A simple stone doorway is set into a hill in the western highlands. Beyond this doorway lies the most feared
crypt known to adventurers. The story of the Contrap onist is well known amongst treasure hunters (see above) and many reckless or
prideful adventurers seek out this site convinced they have the skills needed to wrest the considerable fortune that lies within from the
cunning deathtraps that protect it. So far those adventurers have been gravely mistaken.
Despite the lack of success, rumors abound as to what waits within the crypt. Statues whose mouths erupt with acid, l ng floors
that drop the unwary into grinding metal gears, an invisible fire that cooks would-be-robbers from within, and floa ng human heads
whose gaze is death to look upon are all commonly believed to be found within. These rumors should be considered highly suspect,
however, for only two adventurers are known to have escaped the tomb alive, one of whom can no longer speak. The whereabouts
of the second is unknown, but he is constantly sought by tomb-robbers who would like to know what exactly awaits them within the
Contrap onist’s Tomb.
In recent years, rumors are floa ng about that one individual is pu ng together a team of treasure-hunters whose sole purpose is to
defeat this unbreachable tomb of horrors. He plans to acquire every possible clue, magical item, and piece of lore that might prove
useful in reaching the Tomb’s innermost treasure chamber and recovering the tanic fortune that’s believed to reside there. Taking no
chances and believing no one else is close to bea ng him to the prize, this unnamed mastermind proceeds with slow, methodical steps.
The above scenario would make for an exci ng campaign for those who enjoy the crime genre. Planned along the lines of a heist film
or caper novel, the PCs take the role of the crew hired to pull off a seemingly impossible job of breaking into an impervious treasure
vault. They must assemble all the necessary equipment (magic items, specially created tools, exo c spells) and informa on (ancient
Dead Feast (Day of the Whippoorwill, 24th of Cofferfill): In some cultures, the dead are not feared but honored, and it is believed
they watch over their living rela ves, ensuring good fortune and protec on. Not so in the Aeternal Empire. There, the belief is that
the dead should be avoided and any interac on they have with the living always ends badly for the one whose heart s ll beats.
On the night before Dead Feast, children go from house to house dressed as corpses to sell simple iron rings which are believed to
ward off unquiet spirits. The price of these rings is usually a copper coin, a bit of food, or other small token. During the following
day, all the graves and tombs in the local cemetery are scrubbed clean, cleared of weeds, and special candles made from tallow,
bone meal, and a drop of blood are placed about the burial ground. These are lit at nigh all and are intended to keep the dead from
leaving the confines of the cemetery.
A er the sun goes down, all business ceases as residents prepare for the long night ahead. At dusk, families gather outside their
homes to burn human effigies in the belief that these subs tutes will take their place in the Lord of the Dead’s restless armies. Resi-
dents head indoors as the straw men burn, hanging holy symbols and other wards on their front doors and barring the entrance
behind them. Windows are shu ered and curtains are drawn fast. No one ventures out a er dark and even the town tavern is shut
ght.
During Dead Feast no one sleeps. This is not only because the prayers that keep the dead from harming the living must be mu ered
all night, but because tradi on has it that the soul of anyone sleeping on this night leaves the body to join in the revels of the dead.
As the cock crows, the soul finds its way to the place where the living body will meet its death and that person awakes knowing the
place, but thankfully not the me, of their demise.
All these protec ve measures are not mere supers on, for the dead truly do stalk the night. Despite legends otherwise, it is only
incorporeal spirits such as ghosts, wraiths, spectres, banshees, and poltergeists that prowl about on this evening. The corporeal
dead are silent on Dead Feast and some speculate that the burial rites placed upon their bodies are s ll potent enough to keep them
quiet. It is only a er the body rots away that they free to leave their tombs. These spirits ra le the doors, tes ng the locks and divine
protec ons that keep them out. Unseen nails scratch at the window panes and the howling coming down the chimney is not always
the wind. Even the doors of barns and stables bang in the darkness as the dead seek to get at the livestock within. Luckily for the
living, they are safe in their own homes so long as the correct chants are said. However, it is not unheard-of to find a home empty
come sunrise, indica ng that those who lived inside failed to say the ancient words with sufficient devo on or unwisely fell asleep
during the night.
Any PC going abroad on this night is almost certain to encounter restless spirits in one form or another. Sadly for these foolish adven-
turers, the dead are unusually powerful on this night and all a empts to drive them off should be resolved as if the dead were twice
as potent as usual. These undead also gain a 50% increase to the amount of damage they can suffer before being dispatched and gain
a bonus to all damage inflicted equal to their level or to 10% of their total hit capacity.
The iron rings that the children sell on the night before Dead Feast do possess some protec on against the dead, but the effec ve-
ness of these ornaments is le to the game master to decide. If they are just minor tokens, they might give the wearer a small bonus
to resist the first a ack of an undead creature. More powerful versions will protect the wearer fully (even nega ng the life-draining
powers of certain undead) or allow the wearer to drive away the spirits as if he or she were a priest or exorcist. Sadly, these rings
are only effec ve during Dead Feast.
While a night where restless spirits walk amongst the living is bound to suggest several adventure scenarios to the game master, a
most unusual one involves spirits usually overlooked: the souls of dead animals. During Dead Feast, the restless dead who prowl
about need not have been human or humanoid in life, and creatures that die sudden or violent deaths are tradi onally deemed likely
to linger on this plane of existence. Imagine then the troubles that could arise in or around an aba oir on this night. Both bulls and
boars are capable of inflic ng grievous wounds if not death upon people; imagine what their ghosts can do.
The Filth Hunt (Day of the Peccary, 2nd of Cofferfill): Each year in the empire, rag-pickers, salvage men, and sewer workers die while
performing their du es. Although accidents claim some of these men, the majority are killed when they chance upon one of the
creatures that dwell in the horrible condi ons found in middens, trash heaps, waste yards, sewer pipes, and garbage pits. When the
guilds protested, the powers that be officially declared the Day of the Peccary as the Filth Hunt.
For many years, the soldiers assigned to the Filth Hunt patrols were disciplinary cases, sent to par cipate as punishment. This led to
a slipshod performance of their du es and many perished in the jaws of their supposed prey. Since then, a special cadre of impe-
rial soldiers has emerged and these so-called “Otyugh Patrols” and “Trash Rats” take special pride in their ability to defeat the foul
denizens of the sewers on their home ground. Many engage in good-natured rivalry and wagering prior to the Filth Hunt and these
soldiers share a special camaraderie both amongst themselves and with the guilds whose lives they help safeguard.
Unemployed adventurers, especially spellcasters, are regularly hired to assist during the Filth Hunt, but they seldom find accep-
tance amongst their fellow trash hunters un l they too have earned a place in the “Filthy Fellowship.” Once they do, however, they
become members in an obscure yet dependable brotherhood and can rely on the assistance of these men at a later date—which
given their occupa ons, having veteran warriors used to ba ling strange creatures underground and in other horrible condi ons
may be incredibly useful.
The Filth patrols are usually paid a flat fee for the day with addi onal monies given based on the number and size of the creatures
slain. Proof of the creature’s demise is typically required by the paymasters. Addi onally, the patrols are allowed to keep any of the
strange items some mes found amidst the trash. On one memorable hunt, one Trash Rat patrol found a dead thief stuck in a second-
ary sewer pipe, his ill-gained loot s ll strapped to his body in decaying leather sacks. Needless to say, the rich noble who owned the
coins, jewels, and valuable bric-a-brac never saw his belongings again…
These forward-thinking tribes arrive in the ci es via unobserved channels such as sewer drains, unlit wharves, and flooded aqueducts.
Once inside the city’s boundaries, they find out-of-the-way loca ons to claim as their own. Abandoned warehouses, decrepit a cs, for-
go en cellars, and trash-strewn, muck-filled alleys all make for suitable lairs. Being largely nocturnal, it is easy for them to avoid no ce
by taking to the roo ops and backstreets at night, swaddled in concealing rags, ta ered capes, and floppy hats. True to their kind, they
hunt prey weaker than themselves, feas ng on stray animals, drunkards, the elderly, the infirm, and, most gruesomely, the occasional
small child. In general, however, gu er trash goblinoids keep low profiles and prefer to vic mize prey that will not be no ced.
So successful are some of these tribes their ranks have grown to numbers not normally seen in their natural habitats. Some ci es have
gu er trash popula ons of a few hundred and yet their human and demihumans neighbors have no idea they exist. These goblinoids
have embedded themselves so firmly in their urban ecological niche that, even if they are discovered, it will be nearly impossible to
remove them. City officials may very well find themselves having to formally recognize these invaders in the years to come.
Although some gu er trash goblinoids have truly embraced civiliza on, stealing the best ideas and adop ng the customs of humanity
and demihumanity and making them their own, most remain true to their monstrous heritage and strive to keep their cultural iden -
es intact. They con nue to observe the same blood-thirsty rites their ancestors did, and more than one poor soul has stumbled into
the midst of a goblinoid religious ceremony while looking for a place to sleep off a drunk and has never been heard from again. Such
disappearances give rise to urban legends, ones equal to modern world tales of alligators in the sewers. Many take it on faith that these
tales are true and avoid certain loca ons within the city. Foolhardy adventurers may not be as easily convinced—especially if dared to
prove the rumors false by fellow revelers a er a night of drinking in the tavern.
Hun ng Moon Night (Day of the Grizzly Bear, 26th of Cofferfill): With the onset of winter so close, this last full moon of autumn marks
the me for making sure the storehouses are amply filled to make it through un l spring. Since many of those who mark me with the
Parade of Thirteen Moons are nomadic or primi ve people rather than agrarian-based socie es, this means hun ng. The bright light
of the Hun ng Moon allows even those species not gi ed with vision that extends outside of the normal spectrum to track and bring
down prey late into the evening.
The Hun ng Moon is also the me when young hunters are ini ated into full adulthood in the clan or tribe, and it is on this night that
they enact their rites of passage. It is not uncommon for the sound of drums to be heard throbbing in the deep woods or to catch the
glimpse of a sacred fire burning high in the mountains on this night as the young are ushered into manhood. Many tribes require the
ini ates to successfully stalk and bring down some form of dangerous prey to complete their rite of passage, prey that can include
humans and demi-humans as easily as bears, wolves, or great cats.
Because of these two factors, those traveling abroad on the night of the Hun ng Moon are likely to encounter armed bands of humans
and humanoids looking for quarry. These individuals will likely be desperate for success on their hunt, and will not take kindly to any
intrusions by outsiders. They may even consider them suitable prey! To replicate these condi ons, the game master is advised to
increase the chance of encountering intelligent races of human, demihumans, and humanoid kind on this night by 50% and to have
their ini al reac on to the party be unfriendly. Certain character types, especially outdoors ones, will have a be er chance at convinc-
ing these desperate hunters the party means no harm—unless they meet the criteria for a successful hunt, that is.
Quenchstone: While many a veteran soldier or wood-wise ranger knows that keeping a stone in your mouth while marching is a way of
staving off thirst, most have no idea where this prac ce originated. Elves, however, have long known the power of quenchstone. This
crystalline mineral resembles quartz and is easily misiden fied as such. The crystal’s strange property is undetectable except through
experimenta on or by consul ng a sage or other learned individual.
A pebble-sized po on of this crystal reduces the need for water by half when it is placed beneath the tongue. In addi on, it reduces
the fa gue created by marching or running overland, allowing the quenchstone user to engage in a full day of forced marching without
suffering any side effects to ba le skill and readiness. For these reasons alone, quartermasters and army commanders alike will pay
handsomely for enough of the stone to ou it each member of their forces.
Unfortunately for these individuals, quenchstone is highly prized by the elves and they prefer to keep it for themselves. They share the
mineral with only a few trusted ranger allies and with those who’ve provided a service to their great Ephemeral Courts of the elven
lands. The high cost quenchstone commands is enough to tempt some unscrupulous miners to sneak into the elven lands where the
stone can be found in order to carry the crystal away. When discovered, these wildcat miners are dealt with harshly.
T (11/9)
(952 GCY)
(11/5) (11/6) (11/7) (11/8) (11/10) (11/11)
Ibex Axebeak Rook Vole Lark Roc Kiwi
8 9 10 11 12 13 14
Poet’s Rest Metal Worm Calendar Ring Feast of Bygone
Gets Lodged in of Quorn Found Innocents
Mountain
* (11/17)
(517 GCY) (653 GCY)
(11/12) (11/13) (11/14) (11/15) (11/16) (11/18)
Landshark Mule Marlin Black Widow S nkbug Buffalo Cat
15 16 17 18 19 20 21
Migra on of Death’s Head N’an’ Im-an-Lea
Tremors Returns Pith First (approx.)
Harvested
(390 GCY)
(11/19) (11/20) (11/21) (11/22) (11/23) (11/24)
G (11/25)
Polecat Loon Wildebeest Purple Worm Millipede Auk Gaur
22 23 24 25 26 27 28
Essen al Cryp c Moon
Furnace Ignited Night
(731 GCY)
(11/26) (11/27) (11/28) (11/29) (11/30) (12/1)
@ (12/2)
Emberfade
The twel h month of the Grand Course of Days sees the northern land succumbing to the growing cold, slipping into the icy grasp of
winter and leaving the last of the crisp, comfortable days of autumn behind. It is a me of final prepara ons for the winter, a period
where food is carefully preserved, firewood is hewn and stacked, and houses, ships, and businesses are sealed up ght against the first
frigid winds.
Meanwhile, further south, trade increases as the temperatures become more comfortable and merchants wealthy enough to seek
warmer climes in winter arrive to do business there. Like their mercan le cousins, adventurers with coin to spare and an insa able love
of danger also head south during Emberfade to con nue their fortune hun ng. The more agreeable weather and temperatures there
prompts them to search for new delves or to try their luck in familiar sites, and the riches recovered from those places flow freely into
the hands of wai ng tavern owners, innkeepers, cra smen, and ladies of easy virtue.
The effects of these alignments vary from the malignant to the beneficial and have been known to affect an area up to five miles away
from the calendar. The effect occurs the moment that certain special symbols on the three rings align and lasts for a 24-hour period
during which the local vicinity and all creatures present are affected by the power of the calendar. Because of this, the area around the
Calendar Ring is sparsely populated by creatures capable of moving away.
Not every alignment of symbols produces an effect and sages are unable to predict which will cause an event to occur or speculate
why they happen in the first place. Some believe it is the ring itself that produces the effect, while others maintain the Calendar Ring
merely records when preternatural occurrence will afflict the region. Not every alignment produces a discernable effect, but those of
mathema cal bent have calculated that there are more than 375,000 possible combina ons of symbols and there is no way of knowing
which alignments will cause an event to occur. Although researching and predic ng the results of certain calendar alignments is both
difficult and poten ally lethal, a small number of sages have done just that. They can provide forecasts and informa on regarding the
calendar’s movements at great cost to those needing to know what to expect in the vicinity around the mountain in the future.
Any me a party of adventurers approaches the area around the mountain where the Calendar Ring is located, the game master should
roll a d6. and on a result of a 1 or 2 some sort of supernatural effect is currently underway in the area. He can devise his own or roll on
the table below to determine what is occurring. He should roll again for each 24-hour period spent in the vicinity to see if a new effect
occurs.
Cryp c Moon Night (Day of the Gaur, 28th of Emberfade): The penul mate moon of the year bears the tle of the Cryp c Moon,
named so for both its proper es and because the long winter nights are the perfect me to contemplate mysteries and conundrums
that the busier seasons leave li le opportunity for. Winter is the me when sages and scholars cozy up before their hearths and get
down to deciphering aging tomes and faded maps in earnest.
The Cryp c Moon is said to emit strange energies during this me of year, cosmic rays that affect those situated in spots most recep-
ve to it power. These sites are sca ered about the land in almost every type of terrain. There is li le to dis nguish these loca ons
for the surrounding area, but they are generally both secluded and elevated so as to be er receive the moon’s energy. They are
closely guarded by those who know the sites’ secrets and are protected by guardians, traps, or powerful magic.
Death’s-Head Pith: In the eastern lands far across the Frothing Sea lies the Ghoul Swamp, a forbidding, mist-shrouded nightmare of
twisted waterways, enormous rep les, and the only known habitat of the Death’s Head Mangrove tree. Named for its skull-shaped
leaves, the rare Death’s Head Mangrove produces a substance highly desired by wizards. The tree’s pith, the so , spongy material
found inside the steams, branches, and roots, acts upon the mys cal pathways a magician’s body uses to channel arcane forces, allow-
ing conjurers to produce more potent effects with their sorcery.
Death’s Head Pith is harvested by a small cadre of closely related (some say too closely), half-mad swamp dwellers that fiercely protect
their cash crop from interlopers. Centuries of exposure to the raw pith and other eldritch forces origina ng in the swamp have given
these swamp folk potent and unusual abili es, and the wizard who a empts to raid the groves for his own supply of the substance
typically meets his doom. These demented harvesters bring their crop out of the marsh twice a year, selling it in certain witches’ mar-
ket where it then spreads across the seas via a network of secre ve and dangerous merchants. Due to the rarity of the pith and the
expense to export it, a single vial of the material can cost a thousand gold pieces. Nevertheless, those wizards who use the pith say
the cost is jus fied by its proper es.
The pith is dried and then either burned in brazier and inhaled or smoked in special steel-glass pipes. The substance produces a sickly
green-yellow smoke and a spicy, not altogether unpleasant odor. A er inges ng the pith for ten minutes, the wizard begins to feel its
effects. Producing a general sense of invincibility and an extremely posi ve mind set, the pith opens the wizard’s psychic pathways
allowing him to maximize his spell cas ng. In game terms, this allows arcane spellcasters to roll twice for any randomly determined ele-
ment of a spell and take the be er result. Rolls for spell success, damage, number of creatures affected, range, dura on, and other such
aspects all enjoy the benefits of double rolls. In addi on, any creature targeted by the spell that is allowed a roll to resist the effects of a
spell cast by a mage under the influence of Death’s-Head Pith must make two resistance rolls and must make both to reduce or negate
the spell’s effect. Failing either one results in them taking the full brunt of the spell’s power.
Although potent, Death’s-Head Pith is also unpredictable and has been known to fail at inopportune moments. Each me a spell is cast
while under the effects of the substance, the game master should roll a d10. If on the first cas ng the result is a “10,” the improved
psychic pathways collapse and the spell does not enjoy the effects of the pith. The next me a spell is cast, a roll of a 9 or 10 means
the spell gains no addi onal potency. Repeat this process each me a spell is cast, increasing the likelihood of the pathways becoming
reduced by one step each me. Therefore, the fi h spell cast while under the effects of pith allows no bonus roll on a result of 6-10. In
any event, the benefits of inges ng pith smoke fail a er an hour.
Using Death’s-Head Pith more than once a day can lead to addi onal dangers, so wise wizards limit their consump on. Each me the
pith is ingested more than once in a 24-hour period, the mage must make a resistance roll against magic. If failed, the amount of magic
he is able to produce daily is permanently reduced. In rule systems that employ a “number of spells per day” method of determining
a wizard’s ability, the mage loses one daily spell of a randomly determined level. In rule systems that use magic or mana points, the
wizard permanently loses a number of those points needed to cast one randomly determined spell. Only extremely potent restora ve
magics can repair this arcane damage, and if the spellcaster ever consumes Death’s-Head Pith again, he forever loses the ability to cast
spells.
The origins of these devices are disputed, with some sages claiming they were constructed by an ancient race that has since vanished
into the depths of the earth. Others state these fiendish contrap ons are the discarded projects of a mechanically inclined devil who
found them to be too cruel even for hell. But while their origin is debated, their func on is not. Each converts living creatures into
energy; energy which is used to power the dungeon’s traps and special func ons.
Any creature forced through the door of an Essen al Furnace must make a resistance check against magic or be instantly slain. Even
if the check is made, the vic m takes a substan al amount of damage each round as the furnaces’ chilling fires consume his soul. Any
creature that dies within the furnace has his life energy harvested by the device and stored in an a ached crystal matrix. From there,
it is distributed about the dungeon complex whenever a trap or special device requires energy. All that remains of the unfortunate
creature is a blue-grey ash of unusual density.
The Essen al Furnace is one possible answer for when the PCs begin to wonder what’s behind that room of death rays or what exactly
powers the chamber of crushing walls. By placing an ac ve Essen al Furnace is the bowels of his dungeon, the game master is free to
include any off-the-wall devices, traps, or special areas with the knowledge that he can answer those troublesome ques ons.
If the game master wishes to hew even closer to a semblance of realism in his dungeon, at the beginning of the dungeon crawl he might
either assign or randomly determine how much energy is currently stored in the Essen al Furnace’s “ba ery.” As the PCs explore the
site and trigger traps and other effects, the game master reduces the amount of stored energy accordingly based on the power and
complexity of the effect. For example, the game master determines that the dungeon’s Essen al Furnace has 25 energy levels when
the PCs enter the place. They trigger a heat ray trap—a minor expenditure of power—which the game master rules reduces the Essen-
al Furnace’s ba ery by one energy level, then later use an elevator room to descend five levels. This uses 10 energy levels, bringing
the total down to 14. A return trip via the elevator would cost another 10 energy levels, bringing the ba ery perilously close to being
drained completely.
The fluctua ng nature of the furnace’s ba ery can cause changes in the dungeon environment, making it a more dynamic place. If
there is someone whose job is to maintain and monitor the Essen al Furnace, a dungeon custodian, for example, he (or it) will no ce
that the power is being drained. This alerts the site’s intelligent inhabitants that someone has infiltrated the dungeon, even if the
party has been stealthy. Likewise, if the ba ery begins to be drained, steps will be taken to “recharge” the device by throwing more
unfortunates into the furnace. This could have disastrous effects if the PCs are in the dungeon to rescue a cap ve. If there isn’t a steady
supply of slaves or cap ves to feed into the furnace, patrols are dispatched to capture living creatures to use as fuel, thus increasing
the chance of encountering wandering patrols or monsters fleeing the round-up.
If the dungeon’s Essen al Furnace is not being monitored, it’s a mixed blessing for the adventurers. On one hand, they can poten ally
render most of the dungeon’s traps inac ve by triggering them with tossed stones or ten-foot poles un l they run out of power. One
the other hand, they could find themselves trapped when elevator rooms cease to rise and magical doors no longer open, or if you’re
a real s ckler for realism, suffoca ng when the dungeon’s air circula on system shuts down.
During this feast, mothers who have lost children “adopt” another member of the village to serve as a living proxy for the child’s spirit.
Throughout the fes val, this adopted “child” (who is o en a grown adult) is given gi s, coddled, clothed, praised, etc., all while being
addressed by the name of the deceased. This special treatment is believed to pacify the infant’s spirit for another year. The day culmi-
nates in a substan al feast where all the adopted children are fed the finest of foods available in the village. The Ammzu believe that
adop ng an outsider during this feast is especially fla ering; to the child’s spirit it means his mother considers him special and unlike
the other “children” honored during this feast.
Adventurers traveling the southern deserts at this me of year might find themselves in the midst of the feast’s ac vi es and this
may affect their opera ons in those arid lands. One or more adventurers could be adopted by a bereaved mother during the feast, a
posi on that requires some sacrifice on the part of the adopted child. The proxy figure is required to par cipate in the day’s events,
submi ng himself to his temporary mother’s administra ons and to a end the culmina ng feast. And although he is rewarded with
gi s and a good meal, this may not be worth the me lost if the adventurers are on a ght schedule or eager to reach their des na on.
Wise treasure hunters will accept the inconvenience though.
To refuse a role in the Feast of Bygone Innocents is to offend the spirit of the child the adventurer was chosen to represent and this
could lead to the character becoming the subject of a haun ng. The ghost will target all its anger and aggression upon the character
who spurned it, revealing itself in poltergeist ac vi es at the most inopportune mes. Ropes snap as the character climbs them, rock
falls tumble down hillside towards the character, and cave-ins bury the character as the party explores subterranean gro os. Extremely
old and powerful child ghosts can manifest physically to drain the vitality of their chosen vic m, forcing the target to become a perma-
nent playmate for the dead. Only powerful clerics or local shamans can free the targeted character from the ghost’s a en ons.
On the other hand, those who gladly submit to their role in the feast may find they gain the assistance of the spirit they represented.
This assistance never lasts long and never extends outside of the desert area where the child dwelled in life, but can nevertheless be
valuable. Clues to the loca on of hidden treasures, a ghostly warning of unseen dangers, or even poltergeist assistance in a pitched bat-
tle are not beyond the ability of a spirit pleased with the one who brought his or her saddened mother a day of peace and happiness.
Unfortunately, entrance into the construct’s interior requires magic or cunning, for the worm’s mouth (the sole point of ingress) hangs
in space a hundred feet from the mountain’s face and nearly five hundred feet above the ground below. To compound ma ers, a family
of wyverns now roosts in the mouth of the worm and must be contended with as well.
Should some brave band of adventurers defeat or slink past the wyverns, they find a labyrinth of passageways and chambers wai ng
for them. Due to the contor ons of the metal worm’s body, some of these rooms and corridors are on steep angles, requiring either
ropes and pitons or magical assistance to explore the construct. Once this difficulty is overcome, the party will discover that the worm
is both powered and controlled by an aberrant technique.
An interconnected network of goo-filled vats occupies the center of the crea on. Inside each is the inert body of a sen ent humanoid
or monstrous creature. Although some have died from neglect, most have entered a state of hiberna on. The brain waves and life
energies of these creatures drives the worm by ac ng in concert under the direc on of the construct’s commander. To mo vate the
Metal Worm and free it from its res ng place, someone will need to rouse the hiberna ng drive minds, replace the deceased “com-
ponents” with fresh, living subs tutes, and coerce the connected minds to obey a new owner. The process is likely to be difficult and
stomach-churning.
Whether riches of gold and jewels may also be found within the great worm is debatable. What is not is that whoever managed to
ac vate the mechanical creature and free it from its aerie would command a unique and fearsome vehicle. The military applica ons of
such a device are self-evident, and the pres ge of simply owning such a thing would overshadow any wealth found within. Rumors are
beginning to spread that at least three neighboring na ons are already planning expedi ons to Mount Argult.
Nan’ Im-an-Lea (approximately Day of the Cat, 21st of Emberfade): The elves who live within the boundaries of the Aeternal Empire
are aware of the Grand Course of Days, but they use a calendar of much more ancient vintage (one which is outside the scope of this
almanac). Suffice to say, the elven calendar is deeply ed with the land, water, wind, and the heavens, and is o en as ephemeral as
those forces. An example of this is the holiday known as Nam’ Im-an-Lea or “The Time Betwixt Time.”
According to the elven calendar, the new year does not always begin immediately a er the old one ends. Instead, it starts once the
eldest of elven astronomers deem that certain special stars are in their correct posi ons. This can lead to a period of up to a week
where, according to the elven method of measuring the years, me simply does not exist. This is a special me for the elves and it is
spent in individual seclusion, with each member of this long-lived race engaged in certain medita ons and rites unknown by the other
races. Elven se lements seem abandoned during Nam’ Im-an-Lea and it can be days before their residents complete these rites and
emerge from their private sanctuaries. Only the elven astronomers are glimpsed, and they are only seen at night as they climb to the
tops of their tower observatories to inspect the alignment of the heavens. Once the stars are all in their correct places, the me of Nan’
Im-an-Lea comes to an end and the first day of the new year begins the following morning.
Due to the elves’ reluctance to reveal what they do during Nan’ Im-an-Lea, rumors have arisen amongst the other races to fill the void.
The most o en-repeated is that the rites which are conducted during The Time Betwixt Time are the true reason for the elves’ longev-
ity and should they ever cease these ceremonies they would live no longer than the average human. The nature of these rites varies
with who is repea ng the rumors; elvenphiles sigh longingly as they tell of star-lit baths and anointment with flower-scented oils. Those
distrus ul or with an outright hatred of the race spread tales of blood-drenched sacrifice and grim methods concealed by the elves’
alien beauty and supposed oneness with nature.
Like Dwergferi (see 106), Nan’ Im-an-Lea is primarily an event for elven PCs and can be used by the game master to showcase their very
nonhuman natures. Players with elven PCs are encouraged to play up their “elveness” during this holiday, and bonus experience should
be awarded to those who go above and beyond with their portrayals. The unspecified nature of the elven rites allows both the game
master and players to exercise their crea vity and come up with ideas specific to their campaign world.
Another op on to use with Nan’ Im-an-Lea is that it truly is outside of me—within the elven lands at least. Those who find themselves
in elven holdings during this period are unaffected by the passage of me or by any magic that either speeds or slows down me. Using
this op on, the game master could cra an en re adventure around a fatally poisoned or diseased PC or ally who finds a temporary
reprieve from their imminent death in an elven city during The Time Betwixt Time. The rest of the party must now discover a cure for
the vic m’s condi on before Nan’ Im-an-Lea ends and the character dies.
Although Hervokien’s work a racted new customers and Zhac earned a dy profit from his new worker, it wasn’t un l a passing sor-
cerer no ced one of Hervokien’s pieces hanging outside the shop that his true talent was discovered. Visibly excited, the sorcerer
bought the piece for a slightly inflated price (Zhac raises his prices when he senses a customer’s eagerness) and departed. Li le was
thought of this event un l some faces later when the sorcerer and his adventuring companions returned to the City of Colored Sails
laden with treasure.
Word began to spread throughout the city that the sorcerer had recognized ancient symbols woven into the pa ern of the rug that
promised great riches to whoever could decipher the rug’s secrets. Intrigued, the sorcerer bought the piece, and a er much effort,
discovered that the rug’s pa ern was in fact a map to a fabulous treasure secreted in a crumbling, forgo en tower. Following the rug’s
secret direc ons, the sorcerer and his compatriots plundered the ancient structure, walking away with incredible wealth.
As this tale made the rounds of the city’s treasure seekers, Zhac found himself deluged with offers to buy Hervokien’s work. The
astounded rug merchant sold out his en re stock overnight. Within the next few months, several other adventuring bands returned
to the city bearing long-forgo en riches which Hervokien’s rugs had led them to. While not everyone who purchased a rug found it to
be a map to riches, enough did to prove that Hervokien either had some secret knowledge or inherent ability to discern the loca on
of treasure.
In light of this discovery of his employee’s talents, Zhac promptly purchased a large villa for himself, his family, and his suddenly very
valued employee. Within those walls, Hervokien has a plush but well-guarded room and workshop, for rival merchants are not above
poaching such a profitable asset and greedy adventurers are always a danger. As for himself, Hervokien refuses to speak about how or
why his rugs lead to riches. In fact, he hardly seems aware of the change in his surroundings or the fuss his work has created.
Zhac, however, is all too aware of the commo on his employee has wrought and mercilessly capitalizes on Hervokien’s work. He now
doles out Hervokien’s new rugs at a pace calculated to turn the biggest profit and even goes so far as to sell other lesser rugs as Her-
vokien originals. Just to be safe, in case the decep on is discovered, Zhac sells these faux Hervokien’s to novice, seemingly harmless
adventurers and treasure seekers.
The PCs may find themselves involved with Zhac, Hervokien, and his treasure map rugs in many ways. The most obvious is that they
hear of the rug’s strange proper es and look to purchase one. Depending on their coin and perceived threat, Zhac may or may not
sell them a true Hervokien rug. Even if it is a real one, they do not all have a secret map woven into their designs, and when they do
it is not always decipherable. Should the party find themselves hoodwinked, revenge may cross their minds. Zhac is well protected by
both hired guards and a few magic trinkets, and his home is a veritable fortress. The PCs could also find themselves at odds with Zhac
when a rival rug merchant or greedy minor noble hires them to kidnap Hervokien. The PCs might be unscrupulous enough to consider
such a plan themselves. There is also the secret of Hervokien’s strange ability to consider. Sorcerers, sages, and clerics might wish to
unravel this mystery if only to learn it for themselves and kings would pay handsomely if Hervokien’s ability could be reproduced in a
subject they control.
T (12/9)
(367 GCY) (427 GCY)
(12/3) (12/4) (12/5) (12/6) (12/7) (12/8)
Magpie Pheasant Deer Prawn Mockingbird Sardine Titmouse
8 9 10 11 12 13 14
Arrow- Enigmite Bombs
Whip Cra ed Rock the
Capital
(589 GCY) (844 GCY)
(12/10) (12/11) (12/12) (12/13) (12/14) (12/15) (12/16)
Shrike Copperhead Bluefish Penguin Weasel Sable Wren
15 16 17 18 19 20 21
Loresword Sage’s Rest Winter
Gi ed to Sols ce
Archmage
(-138 GCY)
* (12/17) (12/18) (12/19) (12/20) (12/21) (12/22) (12/23)
Griffon Stork Pony Puffin Narwhal Wildcat Stoat
22 23 24 25 26 27 28
Jeweler’s Rest Adventurer’s
Rest
The Rime
The final month of the Grand Course of Days sees the northern lands mastered by winter and the southern coasts a wonderland of
trade and ac vity. The year is at a close and all across the Aeternal Empire people are reflec ng on their successes and failures of the
previous months. It is a period of well deserved complacency: the winter has yet to nibble away at one’s food stores, the fuel for the
hearth remains piled high, and, barring disease or blizzard-cloaked a acks by monstrous humanoids, life is good and a rest is well
earned.
Tradi on in the empire holds that The Rime is a me of illumina on against the dark, and lanterns, colored magical lights, and warm
glowing candles are commonly seen across the realm. Life slows down and, so long as all remains well, a sense of overwhelming peace
and contentment fills home and taproom alike. The Rime is a me to grow fat and sleep late; the challenges of a new year will arrive
all too soon and it is best to make the most of this temporary calm.
190mm x 35mm
Those born under the sign of Zorkonb, the Celes al Bear that Slumbers Un l the End of the Universe, are known to be both caring and
irascible. Bears make both excellent parents and vicious opponents. Luckily for those who unwi ngly provoke them, Bears are slow to
anger, but once they do, it is me to seek safer pastures. Bears tend to find themselves in professions that benefit from their ferocity
and empathy, and are o en found in the ranks of soldiers, bouncers, groundskeepers, teachers, and physicians.
While the quality of each Adventurers’ Carouse differs from city to city, the events are roughly the same. Members arrive laden with
riches to spend and tales to tell, many having come to town in the days beforehand to acquire lodgings and rest up for the event. When
the guild members arrive at their local chapterhouse for the Carouse, they are expected to pay their dues for the coming year before
being granted admission. Those lacking their funds are turned away, and a small crowd of down-on-their-luck adventurers usually col-
lects on the street outside, begging their more successful guild brothers and sisters for a loan “just un l they get back in the game.”
A er entry, each member is tac ully reminded to divest themselves of any weapons or destruc ve magics (while being surrep ously
scanned and scryed by magical means), which are placed in the chapterhouse’s vault.
Once through the door, a bevy of delights await the guests: fine wines and viands, entertaining illusions and glamours, and a mixed
assortment of comely servants of both genders dressed in garb that emphasizes their beauty. Dealers in magical ar facts, po on mak-
ers, map sellers, and sages are allowed access to the chapterhouse’s grounds for the Carouse, with many establishing impromptu mar-
ketplaces in unused rooms or in quiet corners of the grounds. Guild members stroll the house and yard, sampling the delights available
to them, making deals with tradesmen, renewing old friendships (and rivalries), and enjoying the kind of camaraderie only found in the
company of those engaged in the same livelihood.
A er a few hours, dinner is announced and the members gather in the chapterhouse’s dining hall. A brief but solemn ceremony of
remembrance is held for those who perished in the previous year and a blessing by various priests is enacted to ensure good luck in
the coming year. Dinner is then served and the rowdiness is renewed.
Once dinner is finished, those s ll conscious gather to dance, sing, drink, and indulge themselves un l the early hours of dawn. New
temporary members are recruited into adventuring bands, rumors of choice treasure spots are traded, fis ights erupt, seduc ons and
dalliances occur, and the guild members stagger off at dawn with the sense that their annual guild fees are well-spent indeed.
Adventurer’s Carouse is a magnificent way to let both the characters and the players blow off steam and engage in a session where
there is much to do and learn without the threat of constant death hanging over their heads. With everything an adventurer can desire
under one roof, the Carouse allows them to sample the “rock star” lifestyle of professional fortune hunters. They’ll undoubtedly spend
copious amounts of treasure buying healing po ons, magical scrolls, dubious treasure maps, and direc ons to the newest discovered
delve. Fortunes will be gambled on spur of the moment wagers and dares, insults traded, friends and enemies acquired, and nearly
every vice imaginable can be indulged in during this long party. The game master should strive make it an event that both players and
characters will talk about in the months ahead.
The game master can adjudicate Arrow-Whip’s power in one of two ways. The simplest is to rule that provided that its wielder is not
surprised he can reflect any missile a ack made against him automa cally. Normal rolls to hit are made by the a acker(s), but the
results are applied to their own armor values to determine if the missile hits them instead. Arrow-Whip’s wielder cannot a ack on any
round that he uses the blade’s deflec ve ability, but he can move normally. If the blade’s owner has already made a melee a ack during
that round, he cannot use the blade’s power to reflect a missile a ack.
The other op on is to require Arrow-Whip’s wielder to make a successful a ack roll against a ny target (use your rules’ a ributes for
a bird or bat as a star ng point) in order to successfully redirect any missile a ack directed at him. If the a ack roll is successful, he can
make a normal a ack roll to see if he successfully strikes the missile a acker with his own weapon. If this method is used, the game
master might consider allowing Arrow-Whip to reflect arrows directed at targets directly next to or behind its wielder, perhaps with a
small nega ve modifier. As above, the blade’s owner cannot a ack but can move when he uses the sword’s power. Unlike the above
method, the wielder can a empt to deflect a missile a ack even if he’s already engaged in a melee ac on during the round.
The Crib of the Sleeper: This reliquary measures 2 feet wide by 1-foot tall by 1.5 feet deep. It is constructed of the darkest mahogany
and bound with gold and brass. It bears lapis lazuli, carnelian, onyx, chrysoberyl and ruby gems as ornamenta on. The crib is warm to
the touch and seems to pulse and hum if held for more than a few moments.
The crib’s origin lays with a cult of devil idolaters in the southern ci es whose hunger for wealth and power led them to venerate a duke
of hell. The fiend was pleased with their devo on and in return promised a dark messiah: a child born of human and devil who would
lead the cult to the assump on of their desired posi on of power in the lands of men.
It came to pass that on the promised night the cult gathered to bear witness to the birth of this infernal progeny and amongst screams
and blood and the clash of steel, a thing was given entrance into the world. But something went wrong. Some sages argue that the child
was s llborn, arres ng the promised campaign before it could begin. Others adhere to the belief that the child survived its birth, but
had not yet come fully to term. In either case, what was born that night was placed within a reliquary and secreted away by the cult.
What is agreed upon is that whatever sleeps within the crib must one day awaken, and if the powers of the crib are any indica on, the
sleeper will awaken hungry…
Whoever possesses the Crib of the Sleeper gains several powers. They may create a globe of darkness and enjoy a +2/+10% defensive
increase and bonus to resistance checks. They are also immune to fear. In addi on, they may charm two people a day to serve them
and possess the power to cause wounds equal to a polearm merely by touching an opponent. The major power of the crib allows the
possessor to bring forth the assistance of hell itself. The crib’s owner may once per day summon 1-2 devils of lesser power with a 70%
chance of success. Drawing on this power awakens the hunger of the crib, causing any creatures friendly to the possessor, but excluding
the possessor himself, within 20 feet to take damage equal to being struck by a dagger five mes as their life force is drawn from them.
Ownership of the crib has side effects. The possessor of the crib serves as a conduit between the physical world and the sleeper within
it. The sleeper gains nourishment through the owner of the crib, causing him intense hunger and thirst. The owner must eat and drink
six mes the normal daily amount to sustain both himself and That Which Sleeps. Failure to obtain the required nourishment results in
damage to the owner equal to that caused by summoning devils as above.
Also, the Crib of the Sleeper requires further nourishment in the form of the blood and the souls of living sen ent beings. Before each
new moon, 45 power levels worth of such creatures must be sacrificed to appease the hunger of the Sleeper Within. Failure to do so
brings about dire repercussions for both the owner and those around him. If the crib does not receive the required sacrifices, it draws
the life energy of its owner, possibly slaying him in the process. The crib draws 45 level or power levels less the total number of power
levels already fed to the relic from the possessor. For example, if 32 power levels of creatures had already been slain to appease the
crib, the owner would lose 13 levels. If this number is equal to or greater than the owner’s total number of levels, he is slain and is
unable to be resurrected by any means. Should this total s ll not reach the required 45 power levels, the crib will begin siphoning
energy from the next closest living sen ent creature, con nuing outwards un l the full 45 levels have been accumulated. This effect
has no distance limit, ending only when the crib has been sa ated.
The fes val begins with a religious ceremony of thankfulness and a call for the gods to con nue watching over their chosen people
(the dwarves, of course). Next, a bazaar/trade show is erected in the hall’s largest amphitheatre. Cra smen bring their finest work for
display and sale during Dwergferi, and it is at Dwergferi that new clients are wooed and orders are placed for the coming year. With so
many master cra smen gathered in one place, this is also the me that journeydwarf cra ers present their masterpieces for consider-
a on. Depending on the council of judges’ decision, the rest of the fes val either becomes a wild revelry for the candidates or a somber
period of reflec on on what they did wrong
Contests abound during the fes val and include wrestling matches, oratory challenges, smithy face-offs, and hammer throwing. The
two most popular contests are The Keg Ba le and the Judging of the Beards. The Keg Ba le is a rugby-like game where two opposing
teams vie to move a full tun (216 gallons) of ale into the opposing side’s goal. Although these matches are spirited, they are well-
regulated and seldom turn violent. The Judging of the Beards is precisely that: contestants present themselves to a panel of judges in
order to decide who has the finest beard. Beards are judges on length, color, shape, braid work, and cleanliness. The winner is awarded
his weight in gold, tools, and weapons.
Perhaps the most impressive display of Dwergferi is the Dance of Thunder and Flame. Most folks would not equate dwarves with
dancing, but then most have never witnessed this event. The dance requires more than a hundred par cipants, some of which have
been performing it for centuries. Wearing special boots with metal plates on the heels, the dancers perform a rhythmic syncopa on
that echoes throughout the halls, crea ng a rumble like thunder. When matched with the ke le drums that keep me, the effect can
be near-deafening. As the dancers stomp out their steps, their metal-plated boots clash against the stone floors, producing showers
of sparks to flare in the dark. By the end of the dance, even the gruffest or most stoic dwarf sheds a tear or two, moved by its beauty
and power.
Drinking is also a common pas me during Dwergferi, but it is not all about inebria on and rowdiness. There is an ancient dwarven
custom which holds that every dwarf’s lifespan is determined by the flagons of ale he consumes during Dwergferi. Every mug he drinks
ensures him another decade of health, happiness, and prosperity, and therefore many, many tankards are hoisted by all a endees
before the fes val’s end.
Dwergferi is a special me for dwarves, and any dwarf worthy of his beard will do his best to a end—o en dragging along his non-
dwarven companions so that they can get a glimpse at the wonders of dwarven culture. A clever game master will use this fes val to
showcase dwarven society in his campaign, as well as sha ering a few stereotypes with atypical dwarven displays like the Dance of
Thunder and Flame. If there are enough dwarves in the party, they might par cipate in the Keg Ba le. If there are only one or two
dwarves, the game master might consider crea ng a handful of dwarven NPCs (who are undoubtedly related to the party’s dwarven
PC in some manner) and allow the rest of the players to play them during the Keg Ba le or any other Dwergferi event he or she might
introduce.
The dwarven bazaar/trade show features wonders of dwarven cra smanship and ingenuity, and PCs with money to burn will find a
plethora of unique and possibly magic wares to spend their cash on. Rumors of ancient dwarven halls and holds, many considered lost
forever, will be floa ng about the fes val to be overheard by those keeping an ear out for interes ng tales.
Enigmite reacts poorly when struck or otherwise forcefully interacted with, causing the crystal to explode with varying degree of inten-
sity. The strength of this explosion coincides with its color, making it possible for one skilled in the esoteric secrets of the earth to gauge
the danger. Red is the most commonly encountered and its detona on power is equal to that of a gnomish grincracker—enough to
startle an animal or small child, but not enough to harm. At the opposite end of the spectrum lies the extremely rare white enigmite
shard. This crystal packs enough explosive power to level a castle or turn a small village into a smoking crater. In between these two
extremes are green, blue, pink, violet, orange, and yellow-colored crystals, and their destruc ve power increases with their rarity.
Enigmite is extremely hazardous to harvest, as the slightest mishandling will cause not only that individual shard to detonate but the
rest of the patch to explode as well. Most subterranean races that u lize enigmite do so by wai ng for natural faults to appear in the
crystal, allowing it to be carefully broken free from the rest of the growths and safely stored in well-padded containers. These faults
take a long me in forming and therefore no more than 1d6 enigmite shards will be possessed by any single subterranean community
at a given me. Obviously, this rarity means the price of enigmite is unbelievably high—a shard of even a low-strength color like green
or blue will command several thousand gold coins amongst discriminate buyers.
The Killing Cold: When strange mists appear in the blizzard-shrouded forests of the northlands, the wise and sensible take cover, for
they never be certain which is a natural phenomenon and what might be of more insidious origin. A mistake can be fatal.
The Killing Cold (some mes called the Creeping Cold or Frigid Death) appears as an innocuous white mist dri ing across the landscape.
Those who become trapped in its embrace discover it is anything by harmless. This magical weather transforms the body of any warm-
blooded creature caught within it into a substance that has more in common with snow and ice than flesh and bone. For each hour
a person is exposed to the Killing Cold, he must make a resistance check against magic. If this roll is failed, he undergoes this usually
lethal transforma on.
The afflicted individual is affected in several ways. First, he becomes a cold-based creature with the usual vulnerabili es to heat and
fire magics (usually taking double damage when exposed to these elements). He also suffers a decline in intellect as brain ac vity slows
and synapses fire irregularly. Treat this degenera on as if the vic m’s intelligence was reduced to animalis c levels. The vic m will look
for food if hungry, fight to protect himself if threatened, or flee if he feels he cannot defeat a threat. He retains the ability to use tools
and weapons, but not higher func ons like spell or magical item use.
The vic m’s flesh assumes a bluish-grey hue and becomes so as snow, and will retain the marks of another’s touch like a hand print in
a snow dri . This altered flesh becomes immune to a acks by piercing and slashing weapons, which pass through the semi-solid body
without harm. Only bludgeoning a acks that disrupt the vic m’s slushy body inflict any real harm. Due to increased moisture content
in the vic m’s now unnatural flesh, he is also subject to damage from magics that affect or disrupt water. High-powered spells that
destroy water slay the vic m outright.
The most drama c change of the vic m’s physical form is its instability in less than freezing temperatures. Should the ambient tem-
perature of a vic m’s environment rise above the freezing point, his body begins to run and slough like sleet, eventually turning him
into a puddle of blue-red jelly that smells faintly of blood and bile. This degenera on takes an hour and the vic m loses 25% of his
health every fi een minutes. There is no roll to avoid the effects; only ge ng the vic m into freezing condi on halts the degenera ve
mel ng process. Once in such condi ons, the vic m of the Killing Cold regains health at a rate of 25% of his total health each hour.
The cause of the Killing Cold is unknown and it is rare enough to make study difficult. Once a person is exposed to the magical weather,
only a powerful restora ve or curse-breaking spells restores him to normal. Some na ve shamans know the means to protect oneself
from the Killing Cold if exposed to it, but they protect this knowledge fiercely and only part with it a er the seeker of this informa on
is proven worthy of possessing it. Doing so typically involves esoteric and painful rites of passage.
The Loresword was forged in the deep dwarven halls of long ago, a present for an archmage whose sorceries helped save the dwarven
kingdom from an army of misbego en and loathsome crea ons spawned from the chaos of the underworld. Knowing that wizards
normally lack training in swordplay, the dwarven cra smen who forged the Loresword used long-forgo en techniques to ins ll the
blade with the skill of a veteran soldier to assist its new owner. In addi on, select nuggets of dwarven lore, history, and wisdom were
infused into the sword and the weapon serves as a convenient scholarly research library regarding certain subjects. These two powers
make the Loresword a highly desired item for sorcerers.
In the hands of any but a wizard, the Loresword acts as a magical blade of minor enchantment, but when wielded by one trained in the
arcane arts, the weapons full poten al is revealed. A wizard may use the weapon as if he were a fighter of equal power level or with
a skill in longswords equal to his highest mys c skill ra ng depending on the rule system used by the game master. This ability ignores
any normal restric ons a wizard may have regarding weapons allowed to that class or profession, but does not grant the wielder the
ability to use any other restricted weapon or armor allowed to warriors. It also acts as a sword of moderate enchantment, gran ng a
+3/+15% bonus to any a ack and damage rolls when used by a mage.
The Loresword can also be consulted to learn useful informa on regarding the topics of dwarven culture, history, architecture, spele-
ogy, mining, and any other subject ma er pertaining to dwarves the game master may deem appropriate. The Loresword has a flat 75%
chance of knowing the answer to any ques on posed to it about these topics. If known, the Sword displays the answer by reforming
the runes along its blade to spell out the answer in either Dwarven or Common, depending on the owner’s preference.
As it was forged by dwarves and contains the essence of those creatures, the Loresword is somewhat biased against elves. Although
it may be used by those of faerie blood, the Loresword acts at only half its normal capacity and will only provide answers 50% of the
me rather than 75%.
Winter Sols ce (Day of the Sable, 20th of The Rime): On this shortest day of the year, rites are held to celebrate the gradual return of
warmth to the lands and the slackening of frost’s hold upon the world. Like on Midsummer and the Vernal Equinox, bonfires play an
important role and are visible in every hamlet, town, and village. This is also a me when the old myths and legends are repeated and
taught to the next genera on. Grizzled old storytellers and wise grandmothers are seen surrounded by wide-eyed children as they tell
the old stories with much-prac ced skill. One told tale is that of the ba le that occurs on this day between Frost and Warmth.
This old legend tells that a grand ba le occurs each year on the Winter Sols ce, a combat where the forces of cold face off against the
waxing legions of warmth to determine whether spring shall come again. The loca on of this ba le varies in the telling, but in the end
the forces of warm weather always defeat the army of frost. This ba le is symbolically represented in most villages by a ceremonial
wrestling match featuring two burly men dressed in appropriate weather-aligned garb.
In other places this struggle is represented by young girls construc ng an effigy of the Weather Witch, the goddess of cold and death.
A er singing ancients songs known only by women and girls, they burn her upon a bonfire to cut her power and allow spring to return.
The second of the year’s rents, fees, and thes not paid at Midsummer are due on this day, but the s ng of paying these debts is usually
reduced by the large feasts thrown by nobles, landowners, and other persons of status, to which all are invited.
Although the ba le between Frost and Warmth is considered to be a symbolic one, an anthropomorphism of natural phenomenon,
this need not be the case. It is possible the forces of cold and heat do indeed combat on the sols ce, and cold has merely had a long
run of ill luck. What would happen if Warmth lost one year? Game masters looking to engage in a campaign of apocalyp c propor ons
might use this as a way to destroy life as the PCs know it. It is then up to the adventurers to either stop the onslaught of cold-based
monsters, frigid armies, and glacial advances or find a way to survive in the a ermath. In such a campaign, the Rime King’s Palace (see
p. 12) would likely play a predominant role.
A less catastrophic way of incorpora ng the ba le between warmth and cold in the campaign would be to have fire and cold magic
func on unpredictably on or around the Winter Sols ce as the de of ba le favors one side, then the other. The game master might
wish to determine randomly each day (or even every hour) which side is currently winning and increase the effec veness of that type
of magic during that period. Likewise, magics involving the losing element would be halved or completely negated for the dura on.
The rarest of birth signs, those born during the excep onally brief period when celes al bodies move through the wing of the Night
Dragon (the legendary monster that sleeps in the stars and will one day awaken to devour the world) stand out amongst their peers.
When a Dragon’s day traits are ascendant, they make rulers like none other. The current emperor is a Dragon, for example. But when
their night traits are predominant, there are no baser villains than those born under this sign. Whichever path a Dragon travels, it is
likely that they will end up revered or feared by those around them.
D4 Roll Random Dates, Events, and Adventure Ideas for the Days Without Years
1-3 Day of the Phoenix: Quill Scratch (see p. 109); Cold Moon Night (see p. 109).
4 Day of the Cicada: Seldomnalia (see p. 110).
Cold Moon Night (Day of the Phoenix): The last full moon of the Parade of Thirteen Moons is called Cold Moon, its surface taking on
a slight bluish nt like the lips of a man dead from frostbite. It is also called Fros all Moon, Ice Moon, and some mes Old Moon. The
ogres of the Windswept Mountains have grave supers ons about this par cular moon and only venture out of their lairs under great
duress while it is in the sky.
Legends tell that shimmering snow spirits go abroad on the night of the Cold Moon, temp ng those that encounter them to join their
dance in the frosty night air. As creatures of great beauty, this invita on is hard to decline and many a late night traveler has been swept
up in the spirits’ frigid dance. Although not malicious, the spirits and their dance puts mortals in grave danger and a series of successful
resistance checks is needed to survive the night’s fran c revel. Those who do live to see dawn are amazed to discover that the spirits
have led these hardy souls to the loca on of a hidden or forgo en treasure as a reward for their enthusias c company.
Quill Scratch (Day of the Phoenix): This special day is officially called the “August Conclave of Contracts and the A endance of Duty,”
but is far more o en referred to by it colloquial tle—“Quill Scratch,” This is the me when important legal and logis cal ma ers are
addressed before the arrival of the new year and any dues and fees for memberships in organiza ons, guilds, trade fellowships, etc.
that are not paid at another me during the year are received on Quill Scratch.
Quill Scratch is when most poli cal bodies and trade collec ves meet to determine their agendas for the coming year and it is because
of the copious agreements, contracts, and other paper work that occurs on this day that it gets its informal name. Votes for elected
posi ons are cast on Quill Scratch, with the elected officials taking office on the first day of the new year. Because many prominent
It is perhaps because so much importance is place on the trea es, agreements, and other wri en deals of this day that Quill Scratch
has a preternatural effect on other scribed documents as well. All magical scrolls created on this date operate at it maximum efficiency
when finally used. The spells wri en on them last for the longest dura on allowed; combat spells inflict the maximum amount of
destruc on; and spells that affect a random number of subjects always enchants the greatest number possible. Magic that allows a
test to avoid or minimize its effects are resisted normally, however.
It is not only magical scrolls that are affected. Mundane wri en agreements are also more binding than normal. If any party breaks an
agreement or contract dra ed and signed on Quill Scratch, they must make a resistance against spells or be cursed with some minor
afflic on, malady, or inconvenience. This magical hindrance lasts un l the offending party either makes good on his agreement or seeks
magical assistance in removing it.
Seldomnalia (Day of the Cicada): Next to Cavalcade (see p. 70) there is no greater me of celebra on in the Aeternal Empire than the
fes val humorously called Seldomnalia. And unlike Cavalcade, it is a celebra on that can be enjoyed by ci zens of all ages.
Seldomnalia can be summed up as a me of complete and u er nonsense, which is how the celebrants want it. The fes val begins at
daybreak with a goat being led into the town square, where it is decorated with ribbons and colorful dyes of red and blue. The local
priest then pronounces the goat “King of Seldomnalia” and it is placed upon its throne—a pen suspended 20 feet above the square
where it remains un l the fes val’s end.
Next a series of races are held in the streets. These races involve five-man teams carrying beds upon their shoulders (with one man in
nightclothes riding atop it) while running a course through the streets of town. The winning team is awarded wreathes of radishes and
free drinks in the local tavern that evening.
The early a ernoon is dedicated to musical entertainment and musicians are found performing in taverns, on street corners, and in
public spaces. However, should their audiences be dissa sfied with their performances, tradi on holds that onlookers can dunk the
musician in a nearby fountain, stream, or rain barrel. Good performances are rewarded with coin.
A er catching a performance or three, revelers spend me shopping at the numerous stalls and tents that are erected during the
fes val, as well as heavily wagering on the greased pig-catching contest that occurs in the town square under the gaze of the King of
Seldomnalia. A er the pig is caught, mock combats are held between piggyback fighters who joust at one another with pitch-covered
brooms. Losers of these matches are covered in feathers and forced to sing a plea of forgiveness.
The evening is reserved for dancing and a lewd ballad compe on where bards and minstrels vie to see who can come up with the
most ribald lyrics. Feas ng, drinking, and dancing accompany the compe on. This con nues un l midnight. At that me, the King of
Seldomnalia is allowed to descend from his throne. Townsfolk line the streets leading to town gate to sing the Song of Farewell and
watch the king be led out of the town, signaling the end of the fes val.
Off-the-wall humor is not to every game master’s liking, but there is most certainly a place for it in many campaigns. Seldomnalia
permits some overt nonsense to be added to the game world and allows those who would like to occasionally take a break from high
adventure a chance to indulge in completely juvenile behavior. Since it only happens once every four years, the game master can dip his
campaign’s toes into humorous waters without the threat of the en re campaign succumbing to ridiculousness. The events described
above a just an example of some of the hijinks that happen during Seldomnalia and game masters are encouraged to subs tute their
own (and their players’) sense of humor whenever possible.
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