Yeah, sorry! As soon as I finish up a few things here, I'll open up the Q&A for people to post their characters! Thanks for reminding me, I had totally forgotten! 

WOOT! Thanks!!! This is fantastic! 

Tieflings are absolutely allowed. As for how welcomed they are, that depends on where you go. In the denser populated areas (Port Sac, AJ, and Watertown) there are large communities of many races. Some own businesses, are involved in politics, teach children, etc. And then there's places like the Deeper Wilds, where people are occaisionally less tolerant. 

Bory sounds awesome, I can't wait to see more! 

And yes, it's really just regulated and controlled. If you're seen perforing magic of any kind, and a gurad or someone with some importance, as opposed to commoners and the average riff-raff) you might be asked to show your "papers" to verify that you're registered with the Arcaren, which means flashing your tat or showing actual papers. In some cases, specific maic users are given restrictions and limitations if they've, say, accidentally blown up a building, or levelled a town, or caused significant damage due to neligence or incompetence. 

You're absoutely correct, any and all who sling a spell or utter a cantrip. In Khadask, the Arcaren Authority is where anyone who uses magic has to register, or risk being hunted. Druids tend to live in the Deeper Wilds, a section of land in upper middle Khadask, but have been known to practice esewhere.

The decision to operate in hiding or openly, to register or hide, generaly would be determined by your personality. If you're a Fight The Power kind of person, then you're probby not going to want the Arcaren all up in your business. If you're one of those silver linig everything happens for a reason make lemonade out of lemons people, you'll probaby end up registering because it's the "right" and "lawful" thing to do. 

This might also be colored by where you live. If you're from a big city like Watertown or Port Sacrifice or Ahl-Jhian, you would be more aware of them, since they're more prevalent there. But as you get further inland, they are much less visible, and are looked upon by the more remote vilages and towns as interlopers, annoyances, and in some parts of the continent, even agenst of a greater evil. 

I love seeing these ideas spilling out! 

Urchins are a big problem in parts of Port Sacrifice, and there's a decent sized ang of them in Watertown that more or less terrorize the docks and the market areas. 

Humans are everywhere, and there's even some humon-only towns and vilages along The Long Road. They're also found across the other continents as well, so I don't  want you to feel like you have to come from Khadask. 

Keep those ideas coming! You guys are great! 

This is fantastic, Eol! 

I can't wait to see what everyone's thinking of so far. Also, I forgot to respond to the variant human question, and yes, the varient is totally allowed. 

If I have not yet added in a part of the Lore you need or want to see, let me know. Right now, we have info on the Arcaren Authority, most of the Khadaskian gods, and I'm still trying to figure out how to port in the world map so you have an idea of what it looks like overall. 

i think i have sorted out what the remaining place holders will be. 

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Totally stackable, in my book. It's because they're good berries. And berries are good for you. OH THAT MEANS TWO THINGS!. 

A guide to the Gods of Khadask

It is important to understand that the alignment of the Divines is not that important when choosing to follow one, or several. When choosing a Divine, one must choose the Path/Domain that speaks to them. The Divines will grant favor, regardless of aignment, to those who are committed to the ideals of that Path/Domain. For example, Orvarim is Neutral and presides over Conflict/Resolution. Therefore, a soldier, a peacekeeper, a strategist, or a mercenary would each be just as able to earn Orvarim's favor as pit fighter, a lawyer, a healer, or a repairman, regardless of what their alignments may be. 

A paladin considered to be LG may commit themselves to Iilis with as much favor as a LE necromancer, provided both are fully invested in what that Path/Domain means to them individulally. 

Astryliene (AS - trah - leen)

Unlike the rest of the Divines, Astryliene came into Divinity post-mortem. Born on a small island off the coast of Watertown in Khadask, Astryliene displayed phenomenal arcane abilities, in addition to compassion, wisdom, and strength from an early age. As a youth, she frequently tended the ill and the elderly. By young adulthood, she had taught herself to read and write in Common before learning other languaes, and left home to wander the continent in her pursuit of helping others. Her deeds were many in this time, and her name and word of her heroism washed across the lands in a wave of optimisim and hope. Word spread as far as The Eye, the home of the Oracles, who summoned her to them for an audence, and to meet the gifted soul whose name had begun to make those who seek to do evil tremble. 

She remained in The Eye for three weeks, and emerged renewed, but never spoke of her time there. Instead, she wandered again, and as she travelled from village to village, town to town, she saw the heartbreak and loss suffered by those whose loved ones had died in the wars between the three nations that controlled Khadask.

When the Barren Queen rose up to take the three nations for her own, it was Astryliene who united the leaders and it was Astryliene who ended the Barren Queen's reign. The three kings died in battle with no heirs, and the people called for Astryliene to lead a now united Khadask. But despite all of her great acts, all of her skill in healing, in guidance, in teaching and opening the hearts and minds of a now free people; Astryliene was felled by a poisoned arrow as she decreed there would be no more rule of monarchy in Khadask. 

Astryliene's body was laid to rest in a sacred pool, where thousands gathered to pay their last respects. Hearing the lament of the people, the Divines accepted her soul and elevated her to Divinity with them. Her body vanished in a flash of light, leaving only the sacred pool, and a new ring of sentinel stones, and the flowers Astryliene so loved in life. To this day, the Pool of Tears is still visited by Her faithful, and by the descendants of those She helped. Many make annual pilgrimages to the site with offerings, and some claim to have heard Her voice. 

Today, you can find Temples of Astryliene almost everywhere in Khadask, but most notably in Watertown. That small island off the coast, where She was once born, now houses hundreds of Her faithful, training those Chosen to become part of the Sisters in diplomacy, healing, combat, politics, history, and more. In honor of Her sacrifices and Her life, nearly every single settlement, hamlet, village, town, and city hosts a minimum of two Sisters who see to the needs of the people, advise leaders, and help defend their location.

Iilis (EYE - Liss) 

Neutral, Genderless. Nature/Death dominion. 

Iilis is an ancient Divine, one so old there are few remaining temples in Khadask, yet followers of Iilis meet in secret or worship at graveyars, in the woods, or in other places touched by nature or death. Funerary rites maintain heavy aspects of ancient Iilis traditions and rituals. In Khadask, bastardization of Iilis' will and meaning by a plague of Necromancy during the Fall of the Three Kingdoms lead to the eradication of all but two temples, and those fell into disrepair over the years following the outlawing in various provinces and territories of public worship. 

Appearance: Iilis appears to those who are in the process of crossing over, through slow death or torture, or in some cases, on the verge of death, in the form of a long tall shadow of indeterminte race. In rare instances, Iilis may speak from a flower, bush, or Ghostwood tree, through one of the knots that resemble a screaming twisted mouth. The voice one hears is individual, and takes ont he tone, volume, and pitch that dead or dying most find comfort in. Iilis makes no distinctionin death as to the person's alignment, as Death comes for us all regardless of who we are. 

Orvarim (Or - VAR - im)

Neutral, Male. Dwarven. Conflict/Resolution

Orvarim is the god of conflict and resolution. Diplomats ask for His blessing,warriors anoint blades in His name, those who seek guidance for inner conflicts call upon him for  clear head. While there are Temples of Orvarim, they are typically only found in densely populated areas in Dwarven Quarters, like Port Sacrifice and Ahl-Jhian, thouh there are Shrines to Orvarim at places of historical importance and at in mineshafts. 

Appearance: Orvarim appears as a short, stocky dwarf with long red hair and a thick full long red beard. His clothing is usually that of a forgemaster, though he has been reported to dress in ecclectic unmathced armor. He is surly, sarcastic, and does not care much for propriety. Great fun at parties. Enjoys offerings of dwarven ale, precious gemstones, or intricately carved stonework pieces. 

Ahsrakahm (As - Rah - Kawm)

Neutral to CG. Male. Dragonborn. Truth/Judgement/Order

Ahsrakahm presides over the domains of Truth, Judgement, and Order. Soldiers, guards, law enforcement, etc tend towards worship, and his shrines and temples can be found scattered across Khadask, but is more prevalent in Hask, where there are many arge cities and communities of Dragonborn. Ahl-hian has a sizeable Temple in his name, as well as a large Dragonborn popuation in the Dhar'aamid, a town in the southern part of the desert. 

Appearance: Ahsrakahm appears as s tall, thickly built black dragonborn. He is typically depicted as wearing leather armor and weilds a staff. He is quite pleased by offerings of fresh meat and strong tea. 

Nolih (No - LEE)

CN, Female. Humanoid. Life/Creation Domain. 

Nolih has long been revered as the Great Mother, from whom all life birthed from her tempestuous union with Relethiel, the god of passage. 

Appearance: Nolih appears to any who seek her as whatever female form that gives them the most comfort. Typically appears in a loose flowing layer gown, wearing a crown depicting a sun, moon, and star. There are temples scattered across the continent, but the largest one is in Ahl-Jhian. 

Raggat (Rag - GAT)

CN, Female. Orc. Trickery/Secrets/Fortune

Raggat is favored by rogues, thieves, assassins, gamblers, and loremasters, among others, and is often referred to as The Whisperer. Lendinghouses have obvious shrines to her, but typically her Shrines and Temples are hidden or secret, and invite only. Inrepid investigators might uncover a carving or marking in/on certain buildings and structures denoting a safehouse, or temple, or other, depending on the mark. Those who know Thieves Cant will easily decipher these markings. Most people think of it as grafitti. She appreciates a good prank. 

Appearance: Raggat appears as a tall cloaked and hooded Amazonnian-type orc woman clad in black leathers. Offerings of gold, or secrets whispered to her in the night might entice her favor. If you have earned her wrath, be prepared for bad luck for a really long time. 

Relethiel (Reh - LETH - Ee - El)

N, Male, Half-Elf. Passage/Exploration/Knowledge

Relethiel is often referred to as The Old Man, and is widely believed to be the father of all life. He is eternally bound to the goddess Nolih. He is the god of passage and exploration, which encompasses travel, journies both literal and figurative, exploration, and the search for knoweledge. Temples to Relethel are found throught Khadask, and you can easily expect to find a Shrine of his in libraries or at other sites of academic pursuit. Followers will usually leave offerings in crossroads, the midpoint of bridges, tunnels, and other means of travel. 

Appearance: Relethiel appears as a medium hieght and build half-elven man just past middle aged. Graying hair, graying beard, dressed simply and comfortably, with a staff in one hand. 

Salira and Arilas (Sah - LEE- Rah) and (ARR - e - Las)

N, Female and Male, Humanoid. Balance/Self Domain.

You wil not find any Temples or shrines dedicated to The Twin Stars, but they don't mind. They are polar opposites in every way, and are never apart from one another, for they preside over the domain of Balance in all things. For every person who fights their nature, seeks the middle ground, or simply wishes to attain harmony within oneself, the Twin Stars are there. They are typicaly followed in addition to other Divines, as they are more internally focused. 

Appearance: They take the forms that oppose each other, and yet similar - in some cases, they have apeared as human children, male and female, one blond and one dark. In other instances they have appeared as a cat and dog. 

Personally, and you guys can roll up whatever you like - speaking of which I have no preferences on how you do that, honestly. Point buy, Standard array, roll them bones, whatever - but I want to encourage you all to make your character the race and class you want. Don't worry about rounding out a party. Roll up what interests you. That said...

Druids fit really well. The continent of Khadask, where Ghostwood and its precious groves are, has several different types of landscapes. There's mountains, plains, forests, desert, swamps, ruins, etc. There's a pantheon of gods, as well, for those looking at, or thinking of, clerics or patrons. 

I still have a megaton of info to dump in the Q&A too, but if there's something you want to know more about right away, let me know (like the magic regulators, that's coming!) 

"Now give me a damned dress, you rotten old man, so we can both be about our important business."

Raising his eyebrows, the old man produces his cutting knife. “Now, girly, you can’t be serious.”

One would think, given the severity of the situation, this would not be a prudent time for laughter, but the sight of the old man before her, his dark skin creased and wrinkled with many a year, induces laughter that bgins as a snort, melts into a chuckle, and then evolves into a hearty laugh. 

"Aye, but I aint the one standin here brandishin a toothpick, aint I, ye spiteful ol bastard. You think spillin me blood wi' that -" And again, she can't help it, the absurdity of it all has caught up to her by now, "is gonna please yer own master any? Because I'll be sure to bleed all over as many o these fine rags as I can afore the beatin' o me blackened litttle heart stops."

She doesn't have long. The longer she waits, the longer she delays and plays these games, the longer it will take her to get back to the Dog. Back to safety. Although, she's fairly certain if they've made it bac to the ship already, her sister might have worse things in store for her then any law here. 

((leaving room for any possible response)) 

Seething, she takes a step back and lowers the blade a little - enough that she'll run him through if he advances, or take off his wrist if he's intent on using that sad little blade - and sighs. For a moment, she steals a quick glance towards the back of the room, and narrows her eyes. 

"you and I be headed fer a reconking, ye mean old shite. Be sure o' that. But not today." And with that...

((Maggie will attempt to run out the back. Hopefully.))

Got a post coming tonight, boss! I've been trying to decide if I should just kill him, or cut my losses and run or... i dunno. Nothing is going my way at this point so I might need a new strategy

I had a few things in mind when I wrote the ending, but I don't know. I'd like to think she made it, somehow. Having survived the domestic abuse, and after finding the courage to leave, even having a ticket to somewhere different, it would be a shame if the thing that finally took her out was winter. She always felt to me like a force of nature herself. 

And thank you for the kind words  

Futility

Arlynn maneuvered the aging pickup closer to the side of the unfamiliar road. As she downshifted, the back swung sharply on black ice and spun the truck several times before slamming into something. The crunch of metal and the shattering of glass echoed in her ears. Her forehead ricocheted off the windshield. Her mouth filled with blood. It ran from her eyes, her nose, her forehead. She watched, dazed, while it dripped onto her patched parka and her scuffed, threadbare snow pants. The engine stalled. Arlynn leaned her head back, closed her eyes. Nausea and confusion passed. There was a boy, she remembered. Uselessly, she tried the safety belt, fingers bound by too-small mittens. Frustrated, she tore them off, threw them onto the littered floor of the passenger seat.

She tried the door. It wouldn’t budge. Summoning every bit of will she could manage, she threw herself sideways into the door while pulling on the latch. No give, just a near blinding agony that lived in her shoulder now. She had to find the boy. Maybe they could help each other, she hoped in a rising panic. Arlynn scrambled across the torn bench seats and tried the passenger door, to no avail. With a roar, she kicked hard, and was rewarded with a few inches that only welcomed in the whipping, freezing winds.

Her mind wandered briefly to the ticket in her backpack, now half submerged beneath the detritus and debris on the floorboard. What good was it now? She touched a hand to her forehead and it came away dripping. A few inches was enough. Scooting closer to the passenger door, she lay back and kicked again and again  till at last she had enough room to squeeze out into the snow, hard, jagged where the glassy surface had broken, but soft and light beneath. Arlynn sank to her waist. For a moment, she wondered if she could just dig herself a little hole so she could sleep.

Everything hurt. Years of injuries, passed off with nervous laughter and jokes about door knobs and stairs, combined with the fresh spate of injuries made every movement unbearable. She hoped the boy was okay. When she called out, her voice was stolen by the howling winds. Tears burned hot wet lines down her face before freezing. As she crested the snowbank, she realized she had no idea where she was, or where she had seen him. She tried to recall the spinout, to estimate how many times the truck had turned, but all she could think of was the cold. For once, the winds died down enough for her to see clearly, if only for a few moments. He was there, a few hundred feet away on the opposite side of the road.

How long had he been there? How long had she? In agony, she made her way, sinking, half crawling, till she found the road. Crossing it, she slipped and fell several times. Her head bounced against the ice-crusted pavement, and it took her ages to move again. Arlynn couldn’t feel her hands, face, or legs. She’d torn her snow pants at some point, and her thigh. When she turned, she could see a trail of bloody snow.

The boy didn’t move. She turned back to him, reached out to touch his face, and screamed as her fingers broke through hard packed snow and ice. A child’s hat fell to the ground. Panic rising, she moved her hands down to his thin coat and found it broke away easily. The snowman collapsed, leaving a pile of discarded clothing. Arlynn screamed.

Struggling to her feet, she rose and looked about frantically, her eyes wild with fear. All that time wasted, time she could have used to find shelter, to find help. The swirling, biting winds slowed briefly and allowed her just a moment. Like a beacon of hope, a farmhouse waited several hundred feet behind the boy who wasn’t. Warm thoughts fought for dominance in her mind; coffee, hot cocoa, stew and soup and homemade bread. Her stomach rioted at the idea, and she forced her body to keep moving.

Halfway now. She tried not to get excited, but all she could think of was getting inside. Would they have a fireplace? She barely noticed when her foot sunk into a hole. The rest of her body pitched forward and her ankle snapped. As she fell, she cried out for help, and her head hit sharp, jagged chunks of broken asphalt that had frozen beneath the snow. Hot fresh blood pooled beneath her cheek. No, she wailed, no please, not like this…

It took forever to free herself. It took even longer to stand. She limped closer, gaining inches. Pain was a concept. Escape was theoretical. She sank to her knees a hundred yards from the house and stared at the caved in roof, the broken wrap around porch with entire sections missing from the floor and the rails. Her eyes roamed over the broken window panes and her heart shattered. The front door swung on a single hinge, blocked by snow drifts from shutting or opening too far.

Arlynn crawled.

The Arcaren Authority is the sole governing body of magic users within Eilyrith, with outposts and regulatory offices located within the major cities in Amriss, Coryth, Hask, and Dueran. At one time, there were offices within The Fenn, but a native uprising ended in a massacre that left all agents dead and the continent was declared too hostile to maintain. The Evril Islands locations were also abandoned as it proved a financial liability. In Khadask, there are Arcaren in Port Sacrifice, Watertown, and Ahl-Jhian, with smaller outposts scattered between. Agents are not looked upon kindly, and often go about disguised. 

Anyone with magic - either through innate ability, gifted power, or through years of study - is required to report to an Arcaren office or outpost for registration. Regitrants submit to a small battery of tests, agree to donate a small smaple of blood (for locating and apprehension) and are given a small and tasteful tattoo. The tattoo serves as a secondary form of identification, as well as a focus for remotely cast locator spells. Each registrant is quired to check in once a year, and magic users who miss their appointed check-ins are visited by a branch of the Arcaren known as the Salvage Team. Once located, the registrants and any who have knowingly harbored or aided them, are given a hearing, after which they receive their sentance. Some are never heard from again, while others are rendered blank slates and their bodies used as vessels for communication, or other uses as seen fit by their caretakers. However, blanking is an incredibly traumatic experience for mind, body, and soul, and these poor wretches rarely survive past five years. 

The Arcaren Authority can be invited into any ongoing investigation by local law enforcement whenever the crime is revealed to be of a magical nature. While common in more desely populated ares, such as Port Sacrifice and the great walled city of Ahl-Jhian, it is much less common - indeed, rare - in the smaller towns and villages. the peoples of Khadask are stong amd independant, and dislike the meddlesome natures of beurocracies and other institutions. 

While there are multiple schools of magic, and Agents of the Arcaren with mastery of these, Necromancy is punishable by death. 

In opposition to the Arcaren Authority, those who oversee the network of temples of Astryliene willingly take in unregistered and undocumented magic users. Additionally, the Sisters of Astryliene often take in children with innate magical ability, and train them, shelter them, guide them, and protect them until they are of age and can choose their own path in life. Many choose to stay, and those who do not are always welcomed back at any time. 

It absolutely fits. And there's a lot of ways to make something like that happen. I'll jump in your PMs with some ideas and resources for ya  

And Impulse, EE is fine for spells. 

Khadask

Easily the largest continent in Eilyrith, Khadask boasts numerous landscapes, from the scorching desert of the Screaming Sands, to the dense and vibrant Deeper Wilds, to jagged rocky coasts, and everything in between. There has been no single rule over the land in several hundred years, as each province, territory, and community governs themselves with the guidance of at least two Sisters of Astryliene. 

There re only three major cities in Khadask: Port Sacrifice, Watertown, and the great waled city of Ahl-Jhian. These cities are home to a wide variety of races, though the diversity is greatly lacking the farther into the wilds one goes. 

The Fenn

Deep, dense jungles and ancient moss-covered ruins, lost cities...Though it's eagerly sought after by adventurers and scholars alike, The Fenn is dangerous to reach from any direction, and not for the weak. Rule over The Fenn is hotly contested, with East and West locked in a centuries old war. If one side suspects you of loyalties to the other, you will be put to death and your body shipped off to the doorstep of the other kingdom.

Poaching is highly discouraged. If caught, poachers are executed and their remains fed to the beasts. Other acts punishable by death include: Looting, plundering, unsanctioned exploration, theft, adultery, rape, murder, and cheating at cards. Although it appears the East of the Fenn is ruled b a man and woman, they are but advisers to the genderless Unalis. West of the Fenn is ruled by Yveni The Wise, and her reign has lasted as long as Unalis'. There's a very good reason for this, but those who discover it are usually dead shortly thereafter.

Races native to this area include the lizardfolken, Yuan-Ti, tabaxi, and humans.

The Evril Islands

Evril Islands are a good source of Elves, if you're looking for them. That's the world on the street. Theses are special elves, though. It's said all elves that walk the world are descended from these, and they live in seclusion in order to protect their ancient civilization. Thing is, if you go there, you're only going to find ruins and some small strange villages of sheep and goat herders who just want privacy. Most ships out of Port Sacrifice won't take you, because it's incredibly boring for them, or so they say. But they all get pale at the idea.

You might hear stories, though, if you're a stuffy old bookworm, of the the Evriline Accords, &  it might lead you to explore some of Eilyrith's oldest libraries. Or you can look for Half Blind Bill, who can tell you all about it.

The Euridian & The Outer Isles

The Euridian & Outer isles do not actually appear on any present day maps in Eilyrith, and is generally considered revered mythology. It is, in fact, the birthplace of an ancient race of beings who've taken great pains to remain hidden from the world. Today, they number a mere 200, and do not travel past the borders of Phajian, the southwestern-most city in Coryth. Those who trespass are never seen again. Travel to Phajian is prohibited by law in all lands. Obviously, smugglers charge ridiculous rates for "authentic" Phajian-made goods. And only a handful of souls wandering Eilyrith have ever seen these beings.

Dueran

Ancestral home of dwarves, though you can find them practically everywhere. Elves are also plentiful in Dueran. Where the dwarves have fasioned entire cities underground and within moutainsides, the elves keep the topside just a lovely, to complement the stone architecture. Humans are also prevalent here, as the soil in Dueran is incredibly rich and rewarding. Dueran is ruled by a council made of two humans, two elves, and two dwarves. There has been peace for centuries. 

Amriss

Many years ago, they say Amriss was the center of the world, with advances in medicine, politics, fashion, alchemy and arcane discoveries, and more. Once, it was a bustling and thriving sprawl of city after city, a peaceful continent ruled by the wise and just Queen Mijjira Thon. When the Queen rejected the advances of an overeager suitor,  he released an army of living and undead drow, tieflings, and orcs, and laid waste to much of Amriss before the war ended. Upon the death of their master, the undead shattered and fell still, while the living all submitted themselves to the Queen for judgement. But the war had been hard of her, and her people, and it was her decree that the soldiers of the enemy army join her citizens and become one with her people.

Centuries later, Amriss maintains a tenuous peace, but the kingdom is smaller now as teritories have been carved out by settlers and natives along racial lines, and trust is hard to come by in these lands. However, there are sights in Amriss not to be missed, such as the Singing Spires of Silumar, the Weeping Vale in Kier, and the ruins of Dagriv'ba. 

Coryth

Coryth boasts impressive vistas, staggering cliffs, and deep valleys. It's Golden Coastline gleams like the metal it was named for in the rising sun, and burns with beauty in the light of the sunset. The Fire Fields of Imras are particularly lovely in High Autumn, when the flora blazes in shades of reds and oranges and golds. The people are hardy, tend to live off the land, simply, in service of House G'rtathik. the orcs and half-orks of the royal guard regularly help defend the smaller outposts and cettlements. 

Hask

Hask is

The Eye 

The Eye is a sacred place, a dormant volcano upon which the Oracles have carved out a sanctuary. At the base of the volcano is a large and ancient library staffed by scribes and archivists whose duty it is to protect the prophesies and editcs and words of the Gods, as spoken through the Oracles.

Locations of Interest

• Ghostwood




• Known for its chief export, Ghostwood - a hardy, durable tree whose trunk and limbs often depict a screaming face, or twisted bodies


• The wood is as hard as stone, and grows only in one area of the continent


• Ghostwood is overseen by Town Manager Count Malcolm Fellhammer

• Watertown




• A port town, Watertown ships sail for Port Sacrifice daily for those looking to skip the 3 week trek over land


• Caravans usually make Watertown a priority stop


• The docks are watched over by an enormous statue of Astryliene The Living Storm, an ancient warrior so fierce the gods took her, upon her death, and made her one of them.


• Watertown is overseen by Lord and Lady Veska


• Necromancy is outlawed in Watertown, and those discovered are put to death without trial. Known necromancers are KOS.

• Gravepeaks 




• Travel through the mountains is dangerous at this time. Multiple reports have surfaced concerning nomadic giant tribes warring with native mountain giants throughout the range.


• The Pass is the only way through to the Screaming Sands, the desert that surrouds the great walled citystate of Ahl-Jhian

• The Long Road stretches from the desert city of Ahl-Jhian, through The Pass, to the Witherheart Mountains just outside of Port Sacrifice.

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Eilyrith

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Five years ago, Ghostwood was a struggling village, little more than a haphazardly set up camp for the twenty or so tasked with the care and harvest of the Ghostwod Groves which only grow in this area of Khadask. Yet, in spite of how expensive just raw ghostwood is, the workers were poor, and in ill health. It did not help that the Ruins of Iilis lay just beyong the grove, and they blamed it for their troubles. The small vegetable patch they maintained did poorly, and wild game eluded them. Strange sounds in the dead of night chilled their blood. It was widely believed this area had been cursed, and they would suffer forever just this side of death. 

When Count Malcolm Fellhammer arrived and promised to fix everything, the people doubted and mocked him. Seven families vanished, all of them in the middle of night, with letters arriving within a few weeks saying, each of them, that they'd moved to save themselves, or they'd gone to find family, or in one case, just had to leave. Fellhammer was untroubled, and established a larger garden, brought in livestock and fruit trees. Within a few months, he expanded the boundaries of the village, built homes, moved the logging camp farther into the grove, and erected a wall around the camp. But for all these improvements, the wilds around them only grew more sinister. A pair of hunters were mauled by a bear. Deer gored anyone who ventured too far from the village.

Felhammer was undeterred. He gave everyone work. He established a school, and petitioned Watertown for two Sisters, and brough in new families. Arden Nightsong was one of thse new people, and upon arrivel, she was set up in the newly built tavern, with her husband, who later died when his hunting party ventured too far into the woods. As the seasons changed, more and more moved to this new refuge, enough to cover the seven that would disappear. None of the missing were ever spoken of again, and the village became a town, and within another three years, became a larger town, with a high thik wall, armed guards, and a thriving tousim industry. Even the empty house where the Sisters were once lodged is never discussed, but the place is avoidedby most. Those tending the groves are paid handsomely now, instead of a pittance, and caravans stop for several days to refresh their wares, and their spirits, before moving on. 

People may not speak of the missing, but Arden has never forgotten. Six months ago, she sent a letter to the Watertown temple notifying them of the missing Sisters and asked for help. When no word came, she asked a friend to help her write several more letters, to be sent with an inbound caravan. One of the merchants, being of a nosy sort, read the letter and made straight for Watertown to deliver the message. He was asked to keep this private, but drink often loosens a man's tongue and, in one of the seediest dives on the docks, he mentioned to many people a reward in Ghostwod for those looking for some quick scratch. 

All one would have to do is figure out what's going wrong in Ghostwood?

I've edited the first post to include a little more info but will also post it here 

Additional Info: 

• Characters all start at Level 1. 


• XP leveling


• Bonus XP awarded for excellent posts, RP, uncovering secrets, etc. 


• PHB races/classes only 

In the once tiny hamlet of Ghostwood, now a thriving city at the base of the Gravespeaks, the number of missing rises with each passing  season. What's really happening in Ghostwood?

Don't have XGE yet, I'm sorry to say. And I'm totally stoked to see interest  In the past I've run free-form games here, so this will be my first rules-based game. Hopefully it will turn out to be great fun for everyone as I flail my way along . Over the next few days I am going to set up the Q&A to infodump world and general info and maps and whatnots. I'm happy to help set up sheets, or Impulse can help as offered. And generally I am only able to log in late in the EST evenings. 

Hope the added info hasn't put anyone off the idea of joining.