After the Age of Eight Plagues, the Sacellum of Rimhrheld found itself forced into splitting its territories into two. The southern territories remained as they had been, holding onto the structure of the old church while moving into a more political, less religious age. The north, meanwhile, gained its own Pope, and was allowed to be (officially) referred to as Meltiras (its traditional, "true" name) for the first time since it was claimed.
The Sacellum of Rimhrheld
The Sacellum is in control of the southern portion of the continent. They do not preach - they worship. Four times a day, citizens are required to face towards the altar at the city's center and bow. They hold this position for ten seconds, before returning to their daily tasks. Altars are usually accompanied by a belltower to signal these times of day - an hour after sunrise, during lunch, an hour before dinner, and at sunset.
It is considered more pious to travel to the altar to worship, to light incense or candles (depending on region - candles are more common closer to the coast), and/or to perform certain rituals. These are, again, prone to regional variation, but one constant is the consumption of a grain alcohol mixed with spices known as Flaxin. For this reason, larger cities will have multiple altars, and many merchants make their livelihoods selling incense, candles, or Flaxin.
The southern Pope is usually just referred the Father (maekrix in draconic) and is descended from the bloodline of primal dragonborn, who were first blessed with holy fire by Rimhr. Maekrix is actually just a title to refer to the "father of a city," which is about equivalent to a Catholic bishop. Other maekrix will always be referred to by name, so if someone just says "The Maekrix" you know they're talking about the Pope (that word being more of a layman's term).
Technically, all maekrix are equal. In their letters, they even call the Pope athear maesinti - "holy brother" - same as all the others. But the Pope holds the power that he does thanks to his noble bloodline and his position in the Sacellum's capital, Ner Kangix.
The onureth (singular onur) are the individual communities of the faithful. They're led by the edars. Parishes and priests, essentially. But where they differ is in the jobs they perform. The Sacellum doesn't have masses. Edars perform rituals - both the calendrical ones and those which are more spontaneous, like funerals and weddings.
Those important enough within the church are given a sjach, or "shadow." They act as assistants and understudies, ready to claim the position if it winds up vacant. You would think this makes assassinations common, but with spells like speak with dead available it ensures that only the best of that bunch can kill their way to salvation.
Saints are also a thing - people who earn the privileges of a religious leader through deeds rather than hoop-jumping. They have been scarce since the days of the Plague of No Tombs, so most of them are dead. The church occasionally resurrects the ones who were potent warriors or spellcasters, but most do more work in the annals of history than they do on the ground.
There's other ranks, too, but those can come later if necessary. This is a solid groundwork for right now.
The Church Over Meltiras
The distinction between the Church and the Sacellum is clear, right down to their names. The Sacellum is all about worship - that which is holy is already known and established. You needn't become educated on it, because it's common knowledge.
The Church is different. They believe that everything should be incorporated into the church. This includes many of the pagan rituals of the local people, which have contorted to fit the constraints of the Sacellum's overseers. Under better circumstances, the rituals probably would have been squashed underfoot. But Meltiras was being settled at the same time it was being fought for, and so there was little time for inward pacification of native cultures.
One very popular tradition surviving from pre-colonial times is icon painting. This is always done on wood fresh from the trees, using paint with a manufacturing method predating the Sacellum. These are used to honor the deeds of locals, and delivered to the edar at the neighborhood altar. It's a religious honorific and a way of distributing news to the populous. The people bring in the local events, and at church every Rimhrset the edars inform their onureth what has gone on in the days hence.
The north also lacks maekrix or saints. A council of the local edars will vote on issues that pertain to a whole city, instead of leaving it up to just one person. There is still a northern Pope, and the church's Zealots fill a similar role to saints.
The Pope resides in Baryinnah, where she can have the aid of prophecy whenever necessary. She is unrivaled in her power. Meltiras's first pope was selected in 1001 A.E.M. - her name is Liberty Vii'shalor, and her relationship with the Church (not to mention the Sacellum) is outside the scale of this post. All you need to know is that she is not directly responsible for the differences between the Church and the Sacellum, but she did shirk her duty in shrinking the gap between them.
Zealots are awarded their title when their onur votes upon the greatness of their deeds - which are usually less pious than a saint's. Their miracles are bloody. If they win the support of six onureth, they are brought to Baryinnah and anointed in holy oils by the Pope. They are then awarded four servants to enable even greater deeds of holy fury.
A Zealot's Grip is both their spouse and their battlefield companion. They are sent to the affairs beneath the Zealot themself, and accompany them into larger conflicts. On the battlefield they also have the support of their Skull, a Church-sponsored tactician and general.
They also have a Throat, who handles their bureaucratic affairs. Finally, a Zealot's Faith is an edar who enforces their will and holds services specific to the follows of a certain Zealot.
A newly-chosen Zealot is allowed to recommend specific people for any of these positions, with that party's consent. Failing that, the Pope will pick the brightest of their sjachs for the job.
Tuesday, January 8, 2019
Monday, January 7, 2019
The Age of Eight Plagues, Part Two
Part one here.
The Plague of Drowned Dead
The year is 831, and the Plague of Vermin has almost been defeated. When their waves come, they are pitiful compared to the former deluges of pestilence that came in earlier years. The Sacellum's paladins see less and less work digging rat-proof trenches, and things seem to return to normal.
And then, people began bursting into flame.
While certainly the quickest of the plagues to take a life, Drowned Dead was toward the lower end of the bell-curve in terms of lives taken. It was another airborne disease, meaning most everyone on Starfyk had it. But the exact mechanisms that caused the infected to spontaneously combust were never discovered - it was seemingly entirely random.
Even the dead would ignite on occasion, leading to the Sacellum declaring burials at sea to be mandatory. This upset a great deal of the populous, particularly the few bugbear citizens - for whom burial at sea was a religious requirement that had been outlawed since their assimilation. Social unrest was the name of Drowned Dead's game, and while their Plague was not the most damaging in the long term - that distinction would be reserved for the Plague of No Tombs - they did pave the way for much of the success of future Plagues.
Drowned Dead was, as had become routine at this point, hunted down and killed in 842 A.E.M. This also marked when the Sacellum came into possession of the city of Baryinnah, complete with its own oracle. Though it would fall and be reclaimed several times over the span of the next few Plagues, its capture was a symbol of the Sacellum's near-domination over all of Starfyk.
The Plague of Drowned Dead
The year is 831, and the Plague of Vermin has almost been defeated. When their waves come, they are pitiful compared to the former deluges of pestilence that came in earlier years. The Sacellum's paladins see less and less work digging rat-proof trenches, and things seem to return to normal.
And then, people began bursting into flame.
While certainly the quickest of the plagues to take a life, Drowned Dead was toward the lower end of the bell-curve in terms of lives taken. It was another airborne disease, meaning most everyone on Starfyk had it. But the exact mechanisms that caused the infected to spontaneously combust were never discovered - it was seemingly entirely random.
Even the dead would ignite on occasion, leading to the Sacellum declaring burials at sea to be mandatory. This upset a great deal of the populous, particularly the few bugbear citizens - for whom burial at sea was a religious requirement that had been outlawed since their assimilation. Social unrest was the name of Drowned Dead's game, and while their Plague was not the most damaging in the long term - that distinction would be reserved for the Plague of No Tombs - they did pave the way for much of the success of future Plagues.
Drowned Dead was, as had become routine at this point, hunted down and killed in 842 A.E.M. This also marked when the Sacellum came into possession of the city of Baryinnah, complete with its own oracle. Though it would fall and be reclaimed several times over the span of the next few Plagues, its capture was a symbol of the Sacellum's near-domination over all of Starfyk.
The Second Plague of Vermin
God dammit.
We already know the details of how exactly a Plague of Vermin operates. This was just another instance of it, lasting from 855 to 871 A.E.M. (the Sacellum had gotten good at fighting it in the years past). What's more interesting is how exactly Vermin, the very same who had conducted the first Plague with her name, lasted this long.
If you remember, the Plague of Vermin was a sickness of the blood. This means that any animal whose blood mingled with a Vermin-bearing creature would contract it - including when they ate a patient.
Surely, not all the squirrels in the forest were slain by fire and blade. Some were eaten by the coyotes, as any other. And those coyotes fell ill with Vermin, too.
Vermin invented not just a Plague, but a method of reaching immortality. Her sentience stretched thin between a myriad of beasts, like a spiderweb. She still lurks there, in the forest. It will never be rid of her. Her blood has soaked into the soil there, and on quiet nights when the wind rustles through the trees, their leaves whisper her name.
We already know the details of how exactly a Plague of Vermin operates. This was just another instance of it, lasting from 855 to 871 A.E.M. (the Sacellum had gotten good at fighting it in the years past). What's more interesting is how exactly Vermin, the very same who had conducted the first Plague with her name, lasted this long.
If you remember, the Plague of Vermin was a sickness of the blood. This means that any animal whose blood mingled with a Vermin-bearing creature would contract it - including when they ate a patient.
Surely, not all the squirrels in the forest were slain by fire and blade. Some were eaten by the coyotes, as any other. And those coyotes fell ill with Vermin, too.
Vermin invented not just a Plague, but a method of reaching immortality. Her sentience stretched thin between a myriad of beasts, like a spiderweb. She still lurks there, in the forest. It will never be rid of her. Her blood has soaked into the soil there, and on quiet nights when the wind rustles through the trees, their leaves whisper her name.
The Plague of No Tombs
With Vermin driven back for a second time and a twenty-one year period (the longest pause between any of the Plagues) of good health after it, the Sacellum began to think the feverish night was done. Baryinnah stood tall, a beacon of the Sacellum's victory over the Alquari. Hushed at first, the whispers that the Age of Plagues had ended grew confident. There was a whole generation of children entering university that had not seen a Plague in their lifetime. Hopes were high for the future.
And in 892, they were ripped asunder.
The Plague of No Tombs was a zombie apocalypse, plain and simple. The dead did not stay buried. The whole continent was plunged into a vile period lasting over a century. No Tombs themself was never discovered - they were just one more shambling husk among the millions. Bodily fluids spread the Plague, drowning whole towns in undead bile until they were naught but an army of things that would be better off in the sepulchers.
This Plague left a huge impact on the culture of Starfyk as a whole. In the north, the tradition of canonizing great war heroes as Zealots (largely in the place of traditional saints) began. The Sacellum pioneered the Turn Undead spell as a means of crowd control. And in 988, there was a proper secession.
In that year, the patriarch of the Vath family found a way to merge the soul of an ancient Giantine Emperor with his own. This was unprecedented, and challenged the divine monopoly the Sacellum had on the continent. Seeking to rekindle his lost people, the man (if he could be called that) now known as Llipyah Vath staged a revolution.
In the already weakened state of the Sacellum, they had few free hands to contest this revolt. And so the Tenth Empire was born. They were an uneasy ally during the later days of the Plague of No Tombs - giants proved incorruptible by the disease, seeing as they were made mainly of earth and spirit.
After countless losses, the Plague was finally brought to sustainable levels in 1001 A.E.M. Baryinnah had been cleared of undead, and it was the new center of the Sacellum's power in the north. With seven Plagues behind them, the Sacellum's territories in the south and the north had come to hate each other, and separating them had become the only sustainable choice for the future.
With Vermin driven back for a second time and a twenty-one year period (the longest pause between any of the Plagues) of good health after it, the Sacellum began to think the feverish night was done. Baryinnah stood tall, a beacon of the Sacellum's victory over the Alquari. Hushed at first, the whispers that the Age of Plagues had ended grew confident. There was a whole generation of children entering university that had not seen a Plague in their lifetime. Hopes were high for the future.
And in 892, they were ripped asunder.
The Plague of No Tombs was a zombie apocalypse, plain and simple. The dead did not stay buried. The whole continent was plunged into a vile period lasting over a century. No Tombs themself was never discovered - they were just one more shambling husk among the millions. Bodily fluids spread the Plague, drowning whole towns in undead bile until they were naught but an army of things that would be better off in the sepulchers.
This Plague left a huge impact on the culture of Starfyk as a whole. In the north, the tradition of canonizing great war heroes as Zealots (largely in the place of traditional saints) began. The Sacellum pioneered the Turn Undead spell as a means of crowd control. And in 988, there was a proper secession.
In that year, the patriarch of the Vath family found a way to merge the soul of an ancient Giantine Emperor with his own. This was unprecedented, and challenged the divine monopoly the Sacellum had on the continent. Seeking to rekindle his lost people, the man (if he could be called that) now known as Llipyah Vath staged a revolution.
In the already weakened state of the Sacellum, they had few free hands to contest this revolt. And so the Tenth Empire was born. They were an uneasy ally during the later days of the Plague of No Tombs - giants proved incorruptible by the disease, seeing as they were made mainly of earth and spirit.
After countless losses, the Plague was finally brought to sustainable levels in 1001 A.E.M. Baryinnah had been cleared of undead, and it was the new center of the Sacellum's power in the north. With seven Plagues behind them, the Sacellum's territories in the south and the north had come to hate each other, and separating them had become the only sustainable choice for the future.
The Plague of Black Blood
This was the last of the Plagues. It was the shortest, both in terms of turnover between the previous Plague and lifespan. It lasted from 1003 A.E.M. - a mere two years after the end of No Tombs - until 1008.
The Alquari were just as devastated by No Tombs as the rest of the continent, and a power vacuum formed among them that failed to stay full for long during the previous century. They were fighting on two fronts - the reckless Plague unleashed by a desperate High Druid and amongst themselves. Black Blood was more of a warrior than a proper druidic mage, and he was the one who ended No Tombs for them. He found himself thrust into the position of High Druid, and one who sorely needed to produce a successful Plague.
Pulling heavily from No Tombs, Black Blood also produced a blood-based disease. It thickened the blood, congealing it into a useless black sludge. It was similar to what the Sacellum had seen before, and so they were prepared to treat it once it came along. It was even somewhat of a relief compared to what they had seen in the past two centuries. Just more shivering civilians in dusty, hastily-built hospitals.
Black Blood's throat was ripped out by one of Aurdao Vihn's wardogs. With him died the Age of Plagues. These were the blackest days of the continent, bringing a surging tide of ruination upon all who walked it. The Alquari were a scattered mess, reeling from blow after blow, the most of them being self-inflicted. The Sacellum was chained in debt to its foreign sponsors, hastily carving up what little of the frontier remained to try to pay back a backbreaking price. Baryinnah still flew their banners, yes. But to the west they had a new enemy in the Tenth Empire, and their northern colonies were barely recognizable as worshipping Rimhr.
The blackest days were done, yes. But the future was not looking white, only a dour shade of gray.
This was the last of the Plagues. It was the shortest, both in terms of turnover between the previous Plague and lifespan. It lasted from 1003 A.E.M. - a mere two years after the end of No Tombs - until 1008.
The Alquari were just as devastated by No Tombs as the rest of the continent, and a power vacuum formed among them that failed to stay full for long during the previous century. They were fighting on two fronts - the reckless Plague unleashed by a desperate High Druid and amongst themselves. Black Blood was more of a warrior than a proper druidic mage, and he was the one who ended No Tombs for them. He found himself thrust into the position of High Druid, and one who sorely needed to produce a successful Plague.
Pulling heavily from No Tombs, Black Blood also produced a blood-based disease. It thickened the blood, congealing it into a useless black sludge. It was similar to what the Sacellum had seen before, and so they were prepared to treat it once it came along. It was even somewhat of a relief compared to what they had seen in the past two centuries. Just more shivering civilians in dusty, hastily-built hospitals.
Black Blood's throat was ripped out by one of Aurdao Vihn's wardogs. With him died the Age of Plagues. These were the blackest days of the continent, bringing a surging tide of ruination upon all who walked it. The Alquari were a scattered mess, reeling from blow after blow, the most of them being self-inflicted. The Sacellum was chained in debt to its foreign sponsors, hastily carving up what little of the frontier remained to try to pay back a backbreaking price. Baryinnah still flew their banners, yes. But to the west they had a new enemy in the Tenth Empire, and their northern colonies were barely recognizable as worshipping Rimhr.
The blackest days were done, yes. But the future was not looking white, only a dour shade of gray.
Tuesday, January 1, 2019
New Year's Random Encounters
Still working on the second part of the Age of Eight Plagues. But I was struck with inspiration for some random encounters while watching The Twilight Zone, and I want to take it as far as I can.
Goals for this: create a world that feels interconnected, experiment with random encounters that revolve more around roleplay/exploration than just combat
Goals for this: create a world that feels interconnected, experiment with random encounters that revolve more around roleplay/exploration than just combat
- While walking along a trail, you come over a ridge and notice a wispy smoke coming from a bit further along the trail. Keep walking and you start to smell burnt flesh and hair. Eventually, the party comes along a broken bridge, 1d8 mangled corpses, and 1d4 mangled (but alive) soldiers. If asked, they will explain that they were going to hang a local criminal when they heard her watch ticking. Upon the captain pulling it out and putting it in his pocket, the damn thing exploded and took out half the bridge and most of the company. The criminal is nowhere to be found. 50% chance one of the remaining soldiers knows her name. At the very least, the party needs to find another way across the river. But there's also sidequest potential here.
- Immediately after coming into a clearing, an arrow/bolt/bullet whizzes past the party leader's head. The party then takes notice of the 2d6 bandits taking cover behind rocks and fallen trees in the clearing, and has ten seconds to declare they hop into cover before they get shot at another 3d4 times (one for each bandit on the other side of the clearing). They've walked right into a shootout between two gangs. The enemy bandit leader has a gun, if you're running a time period when they're rare-but-existent. Give them one bandit taking cover behind the same rock as them to talk to, but otherwise just see what they do.
- An abandoned farmstead. There are unharvested pumpkins in the field, watched over by three stoic scarecrows. The house stands with its door open, creaking in the wind. On the porch is the corpse of a boy, no older than ten. Inside there's a kitchen, a big bedroom, and two smaller bedrooms. The big bedroom has the corpses of the parents, and in one of the bedrooms is the corpse of another farmer and a scarred, passed out girl of no more than sixteen. Her name is Magpie, and she fought off the rival farmer - but not before he slaughtered her family. If you help her, give the parents proper burials, or take the rival farmer's body off of the property and burn it, you can sleep in the house and even take some of the food. If you hurt Magpie or take any of the food without helping her, the scarecrows will come alive and attack you (possessed by the spirits of her family, of course).
- A druid and 2d3 coyotes that have ransacked a camp of 1d6 sleeping soldiers. The coyotes are eating their entrails while the druid melts all of their possessions, wood cracking in the flame and coinage melting into slag. The druid knows the party is there, and will let them walk away. But if they come too close, he will order the wolves to attack. He wants nothing to do with you, steeped as you are in filthy civilization. If you do fight him, the fire will burn all of the treasure here into worthlessness within three combat rounds. (I'd probably say it's worth 3d10x10 GP in 5e, scale up/down as needed).
- While crossing a bridge, you see a girl missing an arm floating down the river, left side of her face burned and stump dyeing the water around her crimson. She's unconscious, but alive. This in the criminal from entry one, named Kudzu. She's an anarchist, potential companion, and party-level rogue with an affinity for explosives. She'll propose that she go with the party if nobody else does, without mentioning that the law is after her. 25% chance of her having connections with local anarchists in any town you visit from now on. Within the largest nearby city, authorities will pay 250 GP for her alive, and 100 GP for her dead (adjust as necessary).
- Poorly built wooden tower belonging to a local gang that's busy with a shootout right now. There's only 1d6 bandits guarding it right now (50% chance each is asleep) but the real danger is the traps present. A tripwire in the front door activates three crossbows, a bucket with a hornet's nest in it set on top of a door left ajar, ceramic pots with slimes in them (painted with red stripes). Not a lot of gold or practical items to be looted, but the bandit leader's room has a lot of expensive antiques in it (200 GP total to be looted if they all make it to the city).
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| Druids and their wolves. Image source: Riot Games |
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