Abandoned Realms Homepage

I can't believe how long it took, wasn't until her death at the end that
I finally gained what I needed to put my task to rest. My goddess, Vevier,
Mother of Muffins and Collector of Secrets, was being possessed by a
horrific entity. A Demon Prince, one of the higher echelons of their ilk.
He would lurk and wait, bubbling to the surface before falling back below.
The worst offense was that he put meat into one of Mama Vevier's meatless
muffins, the nerve. Among other things was ingest Vanisse while she was
investigating. Then some time after, it fled her body, due to a combined
effort, myself, the Emerald Witch, Valindra, and in her own way, the former
Paradigm of Water, Serra.

I was terrified. What was going to happen, but after what Mama Vevier has
done for me. I could not shirk, I did my part and the Demon Prince fled.
With haste I alerted allies, telling them to prepare. But then, there
didn't seem to be any ruckus. Then Dogran came back into view of things.
He opened a new portal to the Underworld, and with that demons starting to
flood in from the same portals that the wisps use. Or so I'm told as I have
yet to see it with my own eyes.

In my own musings, I can't help but wonder. How long this invasion was in
the making. The years the portals has been about, Serra's stories of her
travels to Acadia were a written many celestials ago. Even then, there was
only one noticeable possession and it has been dealt with. But what of
those gone unnoticed? What if they could lie in wait, much like the one
within Vevier and only rise to the surface when they were needed for the
task. It is a terrifying thought that at any moment, someone, anyone, could
no longer be in control of their own body.

Take my words how you wish, I do not regret my actions.

Villidan, Master Scribe of Literacy

New Religions

I am not religious, except what my parents told me to believe. So this one
was a chore I left to the end. I even sat with Avenar complaining how
little inspiration I had. He gave me a suggestion but then I spotted
Lumubella floating around as ghosts - I mean gods - often do. I asked a
little about the Order of Light (there are two of them now, Dwiggans and
Junni) but she said it's not a religious affiliation.

Then she said (HURRAH) that I should be thinking about the new religions.
Because wink wink nudge nudge there have been new immortals and they might
be getting their own religions soon. She doesn't have an official one yet,
she says, but she's already been getting prayers from crazy dwarves in the
Dwarven Encampment.

That said Lumubella doesn't currently have a lot of time for prayers because
she has her hands full investigating the demon invasion with her two
recruits. They have two leads they are chasing so far. The first is to see
if Zaikkra has anything to do with it, because he's torn open rifts before.
The second is a suspicion about Legion. But Legion's been closed since
before I was born. Could they really be behind all of this?

Ravia

Word from the street is that the Legion has further aligned themselves
with the Demons of the Abyss. Could this be the reason that there are more
coming through the portals with the wisps? And to make matters worse, word
on the street of Vessels seems to be worrying the people of Serin even
further. The question now is, how will the Legion deal with the Covenant
now that it has staked its claim on Darkhaven. Only time will tell.

There are no known members of the Legion

The Legion has been conspicuously absent in the recent past. Since the
incident at their cabal, it seems they have not publicly rebuilt. It is
possible that the portals are an omen of their return. While there is no
direct evidence linking the cabal to the demons, the disappearance of the
Legion coincides with the appearance of the portals. General Lumubella of
the Knights of Valour believes it is possible the Legion is connected to the
portals, but doesnt have any proof to date.

Justice is in an interesting position, dealing with the demon invasion
via the portals that seem focused on Seringale and its surrounding areas, as
well as an open conflict with Warlords. There are two well-known members
that have been seen on the streets lately: Vydra and Linisan. Both are
aligned with darkness, which is a rarity among Justice to begin with. To
have two of the most well-known simultaneously be aligned this way, gives
the impression that the cabal itself is aligned with darkness. Its
understandable why the Knights are upset with this development. However,
both cabals seek to end the demonic invasion from these portals and so their
mutual dislike of each other may be on hold while this more pressing crisis
persists. Justice is at war with Warlords, though the source of this
conflict has been difficult to pinpoint. All that is known is that when
they cross paths, no doubt a battle is at hand.

The Warlords appear to be dominated by a single, formidable force, a
draconic warrior known as Szrevan. He has fought many battles and is
particularly keen on dueling all inhabitants of the realm. Though the
spirit of Warlords does revolve around battle, it seems this particular
Warlord has let the bloodlust of a duel become a singular obsession, to the
exclusion of all other activities and duties. Several recent arrivals in
Seringale were offered no choice but to fight, slain in their guildhalls, on
the streets, and even within the Traveler's Rest while playing a game of
cards. Would not a Warlord seek out those who also thirsted for battle?
This obsession with duels reached a height recently when the Warlord
assisted the Necromancer Justice Linisan in gathering powerful zombies so
that they could have a more equitable duel. The duel ended in a draw with
no clear winner, but it does beg the question, if Warlord and Justice are
truly at war with one another, should the Warlords be aiding Justice simply
so an arranged fight can move forward? It seems more likely that Szrevan
will do nearly anything to ensure a battle can occur, regardless of any
external politics or appearances.

When the portals began opening around Serin and demons came through them,
the Knights were among the first to respond to the threat. However, they
quickly realized there weren't enough of them to protect the entire realm
from all the portals. So the Knights Immortal champion, Ceridwel, asked
Lumubella to recruit members to form a new organization, the Order of Light.
This order is allied with the Knights and is primarily responsible for
helping vanquish the threat of these demonic portals. Lumubella believes
the source of the portals may rest with an evil entity named Zaikkra,
Emperor of the Material Abyss. At least one recruit of the Order, Dwiggans
the Holy Knight, has been directed to eliminate Zaikkra, in hopes that this
would put an end to the portals. The Knights are not in open warfare with
any cabal at the moment, though they are quite unhappy with what they refer
to as corruption inside the ranks of Justice. This, no doubt, is a
reference to Vydra and Linisan being the Justices most visible members and
being aligned with the darkness.

Rumors about demons

Undoubtedly you have run into some of the demons that are appearing all over
Serin. Where do they come from? The rumors are many. Some come from the
Underworld, like the ones Tsabnar seeks to speak for. Some are seen in the
Faction of Magic in Winter. Valindra taught me they come from the portals
that connect to Acadia. Now Dwiggans tells me a rumor that the demons (or
some of them) have something to do with Zaikkra. Whatever it is, these dark
magics are nothing to shake a stick at. The lesser demons already throw
quite a few wrenches into plans if you hit a crowd of them at the entrance
to a place you were running through. So don't underestimate them.

Ravia

I recently witnessed something peculiar. A younger halfling receiving a
rather ornate looking dagger from the thief known as Bonfo. After that I
crossed paths with another halfling carrying a dagger that looked like my
own handiwork!

Which brings me to my own interaction with Bonfo. He casually requested I
enchant a dagger for him. He popped out of the shadows, twirling a
moustache unlike anything I had ever seen! Thicker than a fflewderdue! He
produced numerous daggers he wanted serviced and alluded to setting his
"Family" up with them and that a steady supply line would be of value to
him. He paid me for my services but suggested we continue working together.
I suspect something is afoot. Perhaps he organizes something. He seems the
favorable type. Well-intentioned...for a thief.

Simple "Readers,"

Welcome to another issue of Wit and Whispers (don't worry--it's mostly
pictures). It is I, Valindra Skitterwit, one-time Poetic Prognosticator,
spurned Concubine of the Darksworn, Serin's premier Emerald Enchantress,
and, as ever, your favorite good-time gal. Boy, do we have a show for you
tonight! Hibbadibbity is here!

Try your bards. Tip the veal.

Gentle readers, I saw you dancing in the flame. You told me every secret
worth sharing, and still I grew old and tired for want of more. Don't hold
out on me now, dears.

Let's get right down to it--

Lyre, lyre? The Master Scribe of Literature retreats in contemplation after
a failed bid for High Herald. Who can say when he shall next return? Only
the wind . . . and perhaps your favorite divinatrix.

A new region for Legion? The Minister writes of moving the home of his
storied cabal, but where does he intend to hang his horns?

Lady Lich? More like ick! Faithful readers will note that only one letter
separates 'godspeed' from 'godseed,' and I'll be using one or the other if
I don't hear from the Vanguard soon.

Curses! Foiled again? Her tresses, at least, for the Duchess Polymath
sports a new streak in her hair and fire in her heart. Let us all hope it
is us she burns for.

Well, that's lunch. Join me next time, dear readers, when I share tips for
keeping those darks darker and other ways to air dirty laundry.

Yours, mine, ours,
Valindra

(A dark rose the color of twilight is painted upon this scroll. Its deep
green stem is punctuated with sharp thorns. Blood coats one of them, from
whence a droplet falls to disappear with a splash into the shadow beneath
it.)

Mother!
from you i splintered,
a chip, a speck of dust, discarded:
a broken fragment of your excellence,
my face a mocking mirror
of who you might have been.
my life, failure after failure, compared
endlessly to ancient history.

why is it your history refuses to repeat itself for me?

Ravia

Witch's Curse

What men can bind, I can undo
And spill some tea before I'm through.
Dear sister, now I call on you:

An iron belt to slow you down--
I stole it from Xymeria--
Wound on your brow: a cursed crown.
Side effects may include diphtheria.

Next a gift from our first meeting--
Natty lace, a handkerchief.
(Now hear me, Mama! I'm entreating
As I conjure dark mischief.)

Find a key to unlock flame.
Burn up the night, my little star.
Will you ever be the same
After the curse of Illistarre?

--VS

Witch's Rhyme

For the Chimera, properly rebuked

Quiet as a mouse
I slip inside your house
And curse your spouse.

Silent as a drum,
At you I bite my thumb.
Look out: here I come!

Wicked as a snake,
Whatever's left, I'll take
For it is mine to break.

You'll watch Ilromie burn.
She will not return
Except inside an urn.

--VS

Whispers

unexpected restlessness stirs the shadows,
spiralling sparks of sudden thrills
that crackle across skin along spider silks.

such ec/static ripples can only spill,
sneaking from skin to lips to quill,
as showers streak softly upon the sill.

despite excitement sometimes i sit,
wishing this susurrus was
still.

penned by Ravia Duskrond

The Spider and the Witch

for the Chronicler of Tragedy, recently appointed

A little spider creeps into Serin
while an old witch weeps, her eyes despairing.
Goblin tears, for the breaking of curses,
are potent, perhaps more than these verses
can connote. What is it that the old witch wrote?
And to whom did she address the note?
Who can say? Only the wind whispers now
to the witch. The flames do not dance, or glow

as she inhales their fumes. Her best scrying
glass is gone. Here she sits, alone, crying
as a spider clambers up her shoulder.
She walks to the window. It is colder
than she remembers. Once, she liked it here.
The spider whispers something in her ear.

--Valindra Skitterwit

Among the Traveler's Rest there were three
Who happened on each other quite accidentally
The first, a goblin of peculiar desires
The second, a bard whom the goblin admires
The third was a cleric with a shadowy dream
Prophetic tales are often not what they seem
So the three discussed without much decision
Did portals or demons create such a vision?
While the answers eluded the trio that day
It led to new friendships along the way
And the spirit of sharing ones tales at the Rest
Is perhaps a traveler's time spent best

Avenar

The Usurper of Unlit City

The Crier in Timaran is a fool. There are some who reel from the loss of
Eurayel, the so-called Queen of Unlit City. But not all. Not even half.
Perhaps those she managed to sway by force. This approach is only effective
if the crushing oppression remains in control. Once released, the natural
state returns with a vengeance.

We are taught from birth that the hierarchy of the City is a monolith.
Carved into our murals, infused by bones and blood. The Queen is more than
a figurehead. The position is imbued by the power of Shadow itself. To be
the Queen is to wield that power, commanding the network of soldiers,
assassins and spies which are the pulsing arteries of the City. But there
is more to it than that, which an outsider, an untrained usurper, will never
understand.

There are those who believe they can break the Drow by force. Even one of
their own misguided children.

They would be sadly, greatly mistaken.

Ravia

-----------
The Warrior
-----------

His eyes shot open. Face down on the ground, the warrior lay motionless for
a moment. Flashes of the battle slashed through his mind and he could still
hear the resounding clangs of swords on metal, though the foggy air around
him was as serene as a morning lake. He braced his hands against the
blood-soaked field and pushed, wincing as a bolt of pain shot through his
body. He grunted and pushed harder, against forces that seemed to want him
to stay here forever. Slowly he pulled his head upright. Streaks of
half-dried crimson blood ran down his face, covered in scars old and new.
Finally resting on his knees, he took a labored breath. His black hair was
matted with the same sweat and dirt that painted his face and covered his
battered once shining silver armor. In every direction, the bodies of
soldiers laid shattered and broken. Some were staked to the ground by
lances. Others were dismembered by swords. In some places, the dead piled
two or three high. A lone white banner, stuck awkwardly in the dirt,
flapped in a sudden bitter zephyr that swept across the plain. The warrior
stood, his metal plating grinding against the chainmail underneath. He bent
down and grabbed a broadsword from a nearby soldier. As if it were his own,
he deftly whisked the weapon over his head and through a sheath on his back.
He let out another breath and looked west. Though the clouds were dark, he
could tell the sun was still high in the sky. Perhaps there was enough
daylight to make it to the camp. Brushing strands of hair from his face, he
started off.

How to walk for days

To get around the realms it is important to be able to walk, or at least
crawl. That means you need to have at least a little bit of blood in you.
And have some stamina too! Stamina is helped by flying, or by wearing
things that ease your movement. I have found a few things which help in
this manner. Here is a partial list, in varying degrees of accessibility
and effect: The frogskin vest from the Toad that I borrowed my tongue from.
The feathered leggings held by Gasparo in Darkhaven. Lady Xiao's pretty
green slippers. Belrak's boots of striding. The cloak of forever moving
water. The mountain boots from the boogum. A tight-fitting leather vest
often dropped by the halflings in Mudfall as promising young things smash in
their faces. Traveler's hiking boots. Sandals adorned with bells.

These kind of things I feel are often overlooked, but are quite handy if you
find good ones and aren't interested in spending all your money buying
scrolls. Of course you can also spend some time gardening. Usually
gardening is fairly boring pastime but you don't really have to watch the
plants grow. Simply go an adventure in the meantime and fresh herbs will be
ready for you when you go home. The herbs I am talking about in particular
here are cloud herbs. The seeds are found all over the place wherever you
see wisps and demons.

Ravia

The maps of Serin have changed much through the passage of time. When I
began my travels, I found the current maps of the realms quite valuable as a
general guide. Yet most lacked the detail required to reach a specific
person or destination. It caused me to wonder if such detailed maps exist.
The challenge of such a task is daunting to say the least. Take even the
most well-known of locations: Seringale. It is said that the city used to
have a large Market Square in its center and not the fountain that is there
today. Additionally, it was possible to traverse the entire city upon the
battlements whereas the design of these has since changed significantly.
Any mapmaker would need to account for all of these changes, both large and
subtle. The task is perhaps so formidable that this is the reason I have
yet to locate maps of the realms in such fine detail.

Avenar

Winter. It is perhaps the most fearsome location in all of Serin. Its
existence is nearly as ancient as Serin itself and many of its secrets
remain lost through the passage of time. What legend tells us is that this
realm was a creation of Denadlyr as a link between Serin and the Material
Abyss. While such a link seems quite ill-advised, the legend suggests this
was the only method to trap the abyssal creatures in Serin and allow for
their destruction by powerful mortals who hunted them. I have traveled to
Winter on many occasions recently in search of answers to the portals that
have opened around Serin. With the help of the Order of Light, we have
perhaps pieced together an old mystery revolving around seven powerful
summoning stones. If these stones are collected and placed at an altar deep
below Seringale, it is possible this would summon the legendary Zaikkra to a
location in Winter. Trapped in the mortal realm, Zaikkra could be killed.
If this entity is indeed behind the portals and demons infesting our lands,
this could be the key to ending the demonic invasion.

Avenar

18 arcane elements can be hard to remember. In my studies, I have found
that having a mnemonic device can aid in the memorization of important facts
and ideas. The 18 elements progressing clockwise are Ice, Arcane, Plague,
Air, Shadow, Blood, Lightning, Acid, Trickery, Fire, Balance, Storm, Earth,
Sun, Spirit, Water, Luck, and Law. We can remember this through this simple
sentence:

I Am Pillaging A Serving Because Living Among Taverns Fulfills Big Stomachs
Eating Sausage So Well Loving Life

On second read, perhaps not so simple. But still worth remembering!

Avenar

In my study of religion, I have come across a somewhat vexing truth. For
clerics such as myself, we are granted several powers that are bestowed from
our chosen elemental alignment. We are also granted access to powers
originating from the gods that are allied with the deity we have chosen. In
studying the wheel of the 18 elements, one would think clerics would receive
powers of the adjacent elements, but this is not the case. Such
interactions of heavenly magic accrue unexpected results. To use myself as
an example, I am a follower of Olyn, a god of balance. Olyn is allied with
Davairus, the god of Blood and Plague. So even though Blood and Plague are
quite far across the elemental wheel from Balance, these powers are granted
to me as a follower of Olyn. One would not expect a Healer to revel in a
bloodlust from the deaths of his enemies or call down the mighty destructive
forces of Armageddon, and yet, these powers have been granted to me by the
gods through their enigmatic alliances. Like so many things where Immortals
are concerned, not everything is easily discerned or understood.

Avenar

The Taekir War and Darkhan's invasion of the land brought many tragedies
upon Serin. Perhaps none were greater than the fate of Carain, the founder
of the Heralds. History tells us she became trapped inside the Gem of Souls
which was ultimately destroyed with her inside during the final battle
between Darkhan and the Immortals and mortals who joined forces against him.
But the less told part of this story is why Carain became trapped in the
first place. Some historians have speculated that Carain and Darkhan were
lovers and Darkhan's lust for power destroyed them both. But there is little
to no evidence to support this claim. In my research, the Heralds had just
been formed as an organization within Serin, supported by Stryth himself.
They were positioned to be different than the existing cabals, obsessed not
with warfare and power, but with the written word and recording the events
of the realm. As the leader, Carain represented this new shining jewel, and
capturing her must have cast a dark shadow over the land. I believe
Darkhan's choice in imprisoning Carain was quite deliberate, attempting to
crush Serin's hopes for a future of literature, prosperity, and a more
cultured realm. When the Gem was ultimately destroyed in the conflict, in
some ways, it must have felt this way to the inhabitants of Serin. But
luckily, the story did not end there. Heralds persisted. History was
written. Stories and culture were shared and the organization grew into its
modern day form as a member of the Consortium and a publisher of many
writings and books over the years. Despite the tragedy of Carain, the
Heralds honor her memory with the important work they pursue each day and
that is worthy of its own story.

Avenar

The Mystics were once a cabal, of the likes of Knights and Legion. Its
members were drawn in by promises of arcane powers but also the study of
spells and knowledge. Yet warfare among the cabals was quite problematic.
At first, Mystic believed it could remain neutral in such affairs. But that
tactic soon proved fruitless as the conflicts would nearly always spill over
into the Ivory Towers. Gathering scholars and organizing them as soldiers
was a monumental task. Have you ever tried to pull a gnome away from his
favorite book? Cabal battles were chaotic affairs, with powerful spells
flying in every direction yet not necessarily in any organized defense. The
eventual cataclysmic event that led to their demise as a cabal could have
been foreseen by many who saw the inherent conflict members faced between a
focus on study and a requirement to fight. Their reformation as a cotiere
is a brilliant manifestation of the Mystic legacy, one that honors their
traditions as savant scholars but keeps them at arms length from the battles
of the cabals. Mystics of the distant past would be proud to see the
organization reborn in a sustainable form and one that brings many
contributions to Serin and its history. Despite deep roots in ancient
traditions, it was change that saved the Mystics and they are better for it.

Avenar

An interesting character in the myths of Serin is an Immortal known as
Kallomar. His name appears in some of the earliest writings of Serin as he
was engaged in the original war of the heavens for supremacy. According to
legend, he struck a bargain to remain alive after Virgil, Stryth, Denadlyr,
and Rodyn claimed victory over the other Immortals. At some point during
the creation of the realms, Kallomar constructed an army of undead that drew
the ire of the other gods. But it's at this point that his history becomes
more unclear. His name vanishes from all records and he is not heard from
again. Of all the original gods, he is the only one that does not seem to
have a shrine or followers within Serin. Did the old gods lock him away in
a powerful object like was done with others that opposed them? Or perhaps
Kallomar never existed at all but is simply a cautionary tale of what
happens to those who oppose the gods. Like many who appear only in the
earliest writings, his mystery is great indeed.

Avenar

Battle of Ages part one

Szrevan, Warlord, Warrior, and Dragon King, challenged Linisan the
necromancer Justice to a battle across Serin. They promised me a battle of
ages, and so I signed up to watch with eagerness.

To begin, the necromancer wished an army of the ages, so the three of us
went to kill a dragon. To be fair, seeing a half-dragon fight against three
undead dragons would have been a worthy story of itself, but alas, the
necromancer bungled it. We found the dragons retreated to lick their wounds
rather than return for another beating so that plan was abandoned for a
giant thief and two trolls. Linisan grumbled that it was far weaker than he
had wanted, but well, we didn't have all day. Or did we?

They geared up for their fight in the Gnome Village. Linisan tried a number
of attempts to put the Dragon King to sleep with no effect. The King kept
his zombies at bay with ease. Linisan was beat down a number of times this
way but ran like the wind with his robes held high each time so Szrevan kept
losing him.

We went all over the place. Mostly avoiding paths that led directly through
town. Realizing the spellcasting was not effective, Linisan took a
different tack. He attempted to set up a trap in Emerald and shut the
Dragon King in a room with his zombies. But the King was barely scratched
by the lumbering things and extricated himself with ease. Wherever Linisan
went, he kept leaving his army behind, and though Szrevan lost the trail, he
knew his opponent had to come back to get it, so Szrevan just went to sit by
it.

It seemed like a hopeless case for the Justice until they tussled again in
the maze below Gnome Village and Linisan finally landed a lucky sleep. Up
went the spells. On went the plague. Because I was following Szrevan
around, I also got the plague, which was great. Linisan, finally, cards on
his side, went for the kill! And... Szrevan instantly shed his skin and
ran behind a door and locked it. Leaving the Justice only options to go
without his army or to slink away. He chose the latter, so again it was
back to square one.

Well that was about the most exciting part, I think. The rest of it was a
haze of running thither and yon until I was out of breath while trying to
field questions from curious far away onlookers. Not that I could tell them
anything because nothing really happened. They finally agreed to a
stalemate or re-try another day. So, fully tuckered out, I went to sleep.

Ravia

The Warlord Szrevan has fought every kind of battle imaginable. Or so
was thought. This was until the monk Draelar (likely well inebriated at the
time) challenged the Serpent King to a duel... Naked. Szrevan agreed and a
crowd began to gather at the Arena. No armor was to be allowed and
observers could only hope that the Juggernauts descriptions of the events
were not too detailed. The dragon did insist on wearing a single loincloth,
not for any advantage in combat but for simple... Optical reasons. The
fight ensued, both combatants exchanging blows. The monk held his own for a
brief moment, but then his aura dropped and blows rained down on him like
deadly fireballs. Draelar was rendered stunned, while the dragon still had
more than half of his strength. In a surprising turn of events, Szrevan
removed the loincloth and handed it to Draelar, a token perhaps, of his
appreciation for a battle well fought. The loincloth has since become
famous in its own right and has been seen for auction for no less than
100,000 coins.

This was my response to Master Villidan's request for an interview with
"someone of moderate renown."

Master Villidan,

I tried to gain an interview from the Justice Vydra but she flew the roost.
Then I spoke to Holy Shaman Tsabnar. I do not know what is "moderate
renown", but does not an interview lend an unknown with the reputation they
might seek? Thus, please accept this submission.

Tsabnar is a man of the cloth who has taken an oath to speak on behalf of
those with no voice. Namely, the Demons of the Underworld. He tells me
that each demon has its own tortured story, but none of them speak it, much
like the beggars of Seringale - each tale perhaps a tired story, lost to
delusion or madness over the ages... Or simply not given a compassionate
ear. Most of the free people of Serin do not understand what it is like to
be coerced by the gods, their intermediaries and avatars, forced into a life
of servitude without voice. Only a few have opened their eyes to them.

He asked me why I wished to interview him, when much larger forces move
around in the realms. Master Villidan, I must ask you this. Why listen to
and repeat the words of those whose intents and lives are already known? I
have seen demons descending across the lands, in cities and in forests,
pursuing their unspoken cause. I have seen Warlords and Justices fighting
each other, clamoring about honor and order while ignoring the lurking
threat. And I, myself, have been living my own voiceless life, have
witnessed the oppressor, and the oppressed. I would spread the voice of
those who are silent. The untapped well of quiet, yet potent thoughts, call
to me. Would you give us the platform to speak?

Ravia

While just finishing up my last scroll I noticed the Dragon God Davairus at
the Arena of Blood and went to pay him a visit. He was very grumpy about
receiving a lot of useless letters so I tried to take his mind off things by
asking him about Szrevan eating people. Turns out that it was the reason
for the letters. But, as the Dragon God says, he has no interest in either
poorly written or long-scrolls. So I asked him, what is he interested in?
To this he said somewhat nonplussed "I suppose now who is second best, since
first is clearly decided." But he wasn't rooting for anybody because "our
second bests are long past trying."

So then I asked him too about the demons. His response was a lot more
interesting than everyone else I've asked so far.

Davairus's words below:

Well everyone has their demons, that is why they appear to be everywhere. A
soul can pass through many bodies. That is a reason why it is always so
important to be respectful. You never know what bad tidings might come back
from the things you do to others. Something that almost everybody
experiences is the emotion of fear. When fear wins, when cowardice wins,
that's when the demons win. The result is the abusing of alcohol, excessive
worship, and all sorts of self-centeredness. The demons just whisper and
suggest such things. But fear itself is much deeper than that. There are
those who can teach you how to control it and make you its master: The
Warlords!

Ravia

An Interview with the Serpent King

Szrevan's greatest battles by intensity have been his duels with Shaghroth,
while his greatest victory has been the defeat of the Keeper cabal. A new
war may be brewing with Justice on the horizon, stemming from dishonorable
acts against Shaghroth and himself that taint the integrity of his halls.
He noted that the current Justices seem motivated by personal gain rather
than peace in cities. Yet should the Warlords stand victorious over the
Justice as they did the Keepers, he says his role will not be the futile act
of pretending to keep the peace. For peace is impossible in a world in
eternal conflict.

The Battle Leader declares the role of Warlord is to prepare the less
experienced folk of Serin for the fights they will face, and to stand
between Serin and any tyrants. He was inspired to this path by fighting for
his freedom from a village once enslaved by a form of marsh magic known as
the spirit of the fire dragon to keep watch over Serin and its denizens.
This blessing was granted after he learned to embrace defeat as a lesson for
Sra. Through hard work and perseverance, he has been chosen and imbued with
the future, strengthening his inner spirit. Although the Warlord pursuit is
very introspective, with enlightenment he has come to realize their pursuit
is eternally entwined with the fate of Serin.

I also asked him what his perspective was of the demons that have been
spotted around the lands. He stated that if they become oppressive and
jeopardize one's freedom, then they must be driven back to wherever they
came from. Other than that, the Serpent King is indifferent. He did
acknowledge perhaps that the demons seek their own freedom here, and not
oppression at all. We ended on the agreement, only time will tell.

Ravia

An interview for/of Lady Valindra

Valindra Skitterwit is a lady of many faces and many names. She calls
herself the Poetic Prognosticator, the Darksworn's Concubine, the Old Witch
of Acadia. Her current face is shrouded in goblin attire but who is to say
what she really looks like? She told me she once held the favor of all the
gods, and that she also shifted among many faces. But now she wears but
one, and the gods are quiet. Though the story is not yet ended...

Ravia

Interview with Bonfo

AVENAR: Greetings! Would you care to be interviewed today?

BONFO: Who? Me? On the one hand I am but a halfling. (pauses) On the
other... I am Bonfo.

AVENAR: Your story is spreading among the taverns. I have heard your name
more than once. This is why I thought you would make an interesting
subject.

BONFO: Well... My reputation, like my moustache, precedes me I suppose.

AVENAR: I had heard a rumor that you did much of your ranking on your own
without the assistance of a group. Is this true?

BONFO: This is true... I like to explore and the ranking sort of came along
for the ride.

AVENAR: You have spent a good amount of time exploring the lands. What do
you find most interesting about this endeavor?

BONFO: Well I'm always on the lookout for... Opportunities shall we say.
And exploring provides them.

AVENAR: Opportunities? Is there a life goal that drives you?

BONFO: A life goal? No no I wouldn't admit to that. I like food and money
and dirty jokes and drink. And practical jokes and art and fine wine and
good shows and making fun of Warlords. I am driven by the simple pleasures
of life.

AVENAR: Recently there have been reports of a string of break-ins throughout
lairs in the realm. You wouldn't happen to know anything about this, would
you?

BONFO: Break-ins? Break-ins, break-ins, break-ins - no certainly not.
Sounds an awful business that.

AVENAR: I only ask because yesterday I was standing in my lair and then the
door unlocked itself and then you walked in.

BONFO: No no no that couldn't have been me. I'll tell you what the real
problem is in this realm. Illusionists! Disguising themselves as
well-intentioned halflings and then terrorizing the countryside I imagine.

AVENAR: Hmm, I hadn't considered that angle. I'm sure it's common. Let's
move on to something else. It's been said that you are a collector of
sorts. What sort of items do you find most interesting?

BONFO: Now this affinity I happily confess to. As to what I find most
interesting... L.

AVENAR: Lives...?

BONFO: Oh no no - I, ahem, was enjoying a spot of Dwarven Firebreather last
night and am slightly worse for the wear today. My tongue is still somewhat
dry and uncooperative.

AVENAR: Oh of course. I meant to catch you when you were fully sober and I
asked around the tavern when that time would be and everyone said that would
be pretty much never.

BONFO: I see my reputation certainly does precede me then...

AVENAR: Speaking of which, I have to ask about the moustache. It seems to
be a defining part of your personality. Why is it so special to you?

BONFO: Ahhhhhhh. Now that is a question that deserves an answer in full,
which at the moment I do not have the time to give.

AVENAR: Very well. Perhaps we will speak again someday. I greatly
appreciate your time today Bonfo, Master of Moustache

BONFO: I must nap to ease the pain in my head. When I reawaken we can chat
about the glory that is my moustache. Until next time!

AVENAR: Until then, good Sir!

If you have ever met Hraozen he might have been out hunting for your
blood. He is a raknos and a hunter, but was not always this way. He tells
me he was deposited here in Serin by gods from another realm. A fickle
realm, one where gods gamble on the fitness of their chosen subjects by
molding them and casting them into new environments one life at a time, like
marbles or marionettes. In the past lives he can dimly remember he was a
chef, and then a jester. But the skills for each were wiped from his memory
with each relocation.

He is not the only one they gamble with. It is not known whether his gods
place more than one hunter in a given world at a time. What is known is
that he must seek blood until they are satisfied. At some unknown time he
will have supplied their quota and will be released from the world.

Hello my friends,

I write this day to bring you sad news. My grandfather, the great Kalest
Windbreeze is no longer with us. He was not felled by a giant, a devil, or
even a demon. In the end it was not his skill at arms that failed him, but
his elderly constitution.

A respiratory illness has been cycling through Valour lately. It impacts
people inconsistently. Some have naught but a sniffle, but others find
themselves fighting desperately with every breath.

Nobody knows for certain from whence this illness has come, but many have
their suspicions that it began in the seedy alleys of Darkhaven. Likely a
result of an unholy relationship between some wretched follower of Dogran
and a sickly animal.

Regardless of the source, it is circulating strongly amongst the populace
and wreaking havoc on the elderly. My grandfather caught it early on and
was certain that his faith in Lord Aberdour would see him through.
Unfortunately this illness could not be cured through clerical means and the
apothecary in Seringale had no remedy. Jijit herself did her utmost to
preserve him with her spells but ultimately there was naught that could be
done.

Alas the great Kalest Windbreeze, my wonderful grandfather, who has shown
great kindness and leadership throughout his lifetime, is now at rest.

I, for one, shall remember him as he was before his illness - strong, wise,
kind, and unflinching in his faith in the light. Those of us who knew him
were lucky to have had him touch our lives.

Kaelric Illistarre

There may not be many who mourn Gaur. But he was a strong and loyal friend,
in his reticent way. We met shortly after I escaped the Unlit City and was
snatched by an Overlord into a cavern. He did not remark on my appearance,
or the fact that I did not speak. I learned as we went that he was a
minotaur of few words himself. I like to think that the mutual silence was
a comfort to both of us, for we moved and flowed in tandem quite
efficiently. He saved my life several times as we threw ourselves, rash
with the bravery of adolescence, against the rangers and depressed knight in
Emerald Forest. It was through traveling with him that I began to connect
again with others, and in my own abilities, after my mutilation. I miss
him.

Ravia

The Serin Mystique, Volume 15, Issue 6