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The World of Teréth End - Chronicles - Jadthàri |
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"The Great and Majestic High Lady of Jadth commands you be returned to the Dream of Sudul, to be there remade by the great shaper in the image of good people, and that your wicked and dishonorable soul be consumed by Daggon's thousands, so that you may no longer soil the land of the great Suluth, and bring evil to its people. Here then we commit your body and your spirit to the world beyond the Sleeping veil, your wickedness is ended... "it is done. Sudul forgive us ending this Dream divinely crafted. We remain insects in your great design but strive faithfully in your eternal name to become worthy servants. We pray you take this spirit and reshape it into a form that may serve you better, and teach us your great will." Malediction of Treason The malediction once included mention of the Fisherman's shore, asking that Draun not pull the condemned's body from the river of the dead. This passage was removed around 356 DR when it was decided that those to be "re-made" were accepted directly into Dream and never fell into the claws of Kyrchul.  |
Strangers in a Strange Land Lightning strikes. The Ritual of Dreaming. Wandering the Rim. First encounter with the Shurn. Village of Arkop and the old woman's tales. The screams of the River Clo-on. Climbing the great Escarpment. Galleron's berzerking and the death of the Shurn. A strong wind blew across the barge making the canvases snap atop the fruit crates; disturbing everything except the Wurmish woman sitting on the barge's edge staring out into the gathering stormy night. Galleron wandered over to Silda but she did not respond to his questions, simply sitting and staring with her battle sword unsheathed across her lap. Closer, he heard words from her lips, but they were not words he understood. At Galleron's request, Vorén moved to speak with his blond traveling companion, but she did respond to his words and resisted all attempts to move her from her spot. The words she was speaking were not her native language, Vorén noted. She was speaking something entirely different. As the others were roused from their slumber, leaves and branches began flying through the air as the storm gusted and rain began to fall. In the distance the clouds shuddered and glowed with the threat of lightning above clouds moving much too fast through the dark sky. Battered by waves the unnatural barge continued along its arrow-line path, oblivious to the storm moving swiftly from the north. Along the coast the trees waved, more leaves blew free, and branches snapped and fell into the river. A column of lightning crashed into the waves ahead sending thunder rolling across the river. Together, the group pulled Silda to her feet, but instead of moving back among the crates for safety she stood with her sword held above her head, chanting in some obscure tongue into the wind. Suddenly the barge's deck has alive with white light and noise and chaos as lightning lashed down at the ship. Canvases caught a flame and those that were not blown aside marveled at their burned clothes and skin. Vorén looked to the distant shore and saw three figures standing amid the road's vined cover. The center figure waved his hands in arcane motions, summoning the sky's wrath onto the boat. Grabbing a fruit from a nearby crate, Vorén threw it at the caster but it fell into the water. Soon all were grabbing fruits and tossing them toward the nearing spectators. At the front of the boat Silda chanted louder and louder to the stormy night sky, her words barely rising above the howling wind and the ebbing ring of the thunder still echoing from moments before. One piece of fruit hit the spellcaster as he rose a hand to summon one more stroke of lightning. Everything flashed white and burned the world away. Cold. Vorén awoke under a starry twilight sky. His fingers clutched the dry and crumbling gray dirt relfexively. It was something to touch, something to feel to prove to reassure that he was still alive. Climbing to his feet he saw Galleron shaking his head and rubbing his eyes. The hunter was naked, and so was he. Grabbing a folded tunic from the ground before him he looked out across the long gray plain. There was nothing out there. Was this death? Each of his comrades lay on the ground nearby, naked, with their own neatly folded tunic on the gray dirt before them. Vorén then spied a set of footprints, heading off into the distance, so he followed. Galleron woke the others from their slumber. Each awoke reluctantly and tired. Zuroolly searched himself for his toad familiar, but his old friend was not here, and he could feel him no where near. Ferveo stood and looked around at his new surroundings. Not only did he not know where this place was, but for the longest time he had trouble remembering what had come before, as if he'd awakened from a long dream. Together they followed Vorén at a distance, aiming themselves along the footsteps that might have been Silda's leading off into the vast nothingness. In a short time the footsteps ended, becoming lighter and lighter in the crumbling clay soil. As Galleron stopped to examine them, he noticed that over a few moments the last footprints grew deeper, more pronounced, but the woman leaving them was nowhere to be seen. As they walked further Vorén spied three travelers in the distance. They were short figures with glowing orange eyes, and bound in rags. As he drew closer two of the figures scampered off while another stood its ground, pulling a curved silver blade, slowly. Vorén slowed, finally stopping, and allowed the creatures to leave. Whatever this place was, things lived here. After some indeterminable time the group grew weary and tired from walking. As they settled on the plain ot rest and sleep a shining disc rose behind them, divided by a mountain peak on some far distant horizon. The disc that rose was faced like a moon and though glowing offered little light to this barren world. Soon the moon's ascent took it above the Mountain of the Rising Moon and into a somehow familiar starry sky. Zuroolly watched the stars carefully, and wondered where he might be beneath so familiar a night sky. When the moon set, they continued onward across the plain. Though no days could be measured except by the moon's circle, in the cycles to follow they came across a band of travelers who did not reach their intended destination. Skeletons lie in the dry clay, clad in gray tunics and robes. One of the travelers clung to a staff, another a knife, while a third kept in a pocket a silver medallion worked with the triangle-circle symbol of Sudul. Religious pilgrims far from Jadth. It had occurred before but they were now reminded that there was no water and no food in this place. Despite this poverty they found the strength to continue, with only the most dull hunger and aches. Only the cold and the twilight seemed constant in this alien place. It was another cycle before the travelers reached a chasm in the plain. Vorén was more interested in a line along the horizon than other things they found along the way (which were not many) but when some Uren-like figures emerged from the rift to observe them everyone's curiosity was piqued. Those that had emerged from the crack in the plain greeted the travelers in broken Jadthàri, and invited them into their village of Arkop. As they walked down the powdery trail they found the chasm walls hollowed into houses with doors and windows glowing with warmth. As they moved further down, the quiet people of this place crowded about them, trying to get a glimpse of the travelers from Beyond. Finally they were brought to a large metal cauldron where a ghostly white flame burned effortlessly into the air, though its feet were not planted in wood or coals. Across the fire stood an ancient woman of these people, and her speaking of Jadthàri was easier to understand than those that had welcomed them. They spoke with old woman for a long time, and learned much about the land they had come to. They learned that others passed this way from time to time, but most of those that came from Beyond traveled the other direction, from the great city Dirapzir to the Mountain of the Rising Moon. She could remember no-one traveling the other way. She explained to them many things about the land they had entered but on many subjects she could not understand the travelers. She explained that the cauldron fire did not consume but burned, and with a small spell set the head of Zuroolly's new foudn staff to flame. She explained that travelers in this land need be wary of time, for it is relative to those around you. Furthermore she told of her younger travels to study the ways of the land with a master, and returning to this place much older than those she left behind. She explained that in the land there was no food or drink, only Nectar and that all things that lived in the land hunted and killed for the sustenance. With that explanation some small glass vials were brought out and each traveler was given a sip of the sweet substance. With each sip the cold ebbed, but did not leave. She explained that the people they'd met in the plains were the Shurn, and that the diminutive race scoured the plains for Nectar but otherwise bothered few. She offered a stern warning of the River Clo-on, which she said were made from the same mad things as the Writhing Sea. Those that look into the rivers are lost within them forever she explained. These things and more were discussed before travelers continued on their way. The old woman directed them toward the Great City Dirapzir, one of seven. In the cycles to follow the dark rim of the horizon grew into a long cliff that reached as far as could be seen beneath the stars. From the Escarpment a jagged line cut through the plains to the left, the river of the old woman's warning. The Great City, by her directions, lay atop the Escarpment, where the river flowed crashed down from the highlands above. The closer they drew to the river, they more they could hear the screams of the flow and the sound was deeply unhinging. Nearer to the sheer cliff they could make out the details of dozens of stairs climbing the lower face of the cliff, and ending in walls, tunnels, and ancient stone doors. The only way to the top was from the inside, so they chose a random staircase and climbed to a likely archway. Inside the dark corridors they found Shurn inhabitants, blades bared and eyes glowing fiercely. They tried talking with the denizens but no understanding could be made between them. And so Galleron, perhaps driven mad by the distant calling and screams of the River Clo-on outside launched himself forward and attacked the first of the Shurn. Ferveo stood back alarmed at the man's actions, asking why but getting no good answer. Zuroolly and Voràn helped the hunter in this combat, and as the combat turned against them so did Ferveo until two Shurn lay dead on the cold tunnel floor, and Galleron lay nearby breathing shallowly. Deeper in the corridor they could hear stirrings from the direction of a third that ran away. Dragging Galleron back to the staircase top they looked down on the plain far below and wondering what next they might do. 31 Jan 2002
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Navigation People
Kerozam (Exp3/Sor5) Introducing Garoma:Many of the fishermen along the Run Suluth use much different tackle than found in other parts of Teréth End. One of the most common tackles are the garoma, which are iron traps that consist of two hemispherical shells, one inside the other. The garoma are regularly lowered into the water in a 3/4 position (meaning 3/4 closed) with bait bound to a central axle. When the bait is tugged, a spring is activated causing the hemispheres to snap shut as into complete sphere. The traps are particularly useful in capturing the more aggressive underwater denizens of the Dreamlands basin. Peasant's Burial: The poor and homeless of Jadth are often deposited at death in the rivers of the Run Suluth. The main reason for this practice is it is the least costly means of disposal. Wildlife within the river does not permit corpses (or living bodies) to survive long in the dark waters. Another reason for river internment is that the Dreamland river is considered the domain of the Dagari, much like the flowering forests belong to the Jargath. Those who have died destitute and alone have not found the peace of Sudul, and must therefore be remade following complete absorption into the Dream. |
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| Ref. PHB (Player's Handbook), © Wizards of the Coast  |
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