Q City – Dec 17th 2072 23:18:32pm

Static.

John Stone shuddered as he came around. The shudder turned to a shaking that did not stop; he was in the first stages of hypothermia. Well, shit, this was not exactly what I had planned. His normally immaculate charcoal suit was ruffled and torn. The frigid breeze was turning large blood spatters on his shirt and pants into a treacle like goo with icy crystals embedded within.

Opening his eyes brought up a translucent digital display in the foreground of his vision, behind which he could see the side street he was laying face down on. The asphalt was cold and the water pooling around his face was beginning to freeze. The high definition display crackled with static interference for another brief moment.

Reboot underway   32% complete

Satellite Uplink established….

Personal Subnode reactivated….    Stealth mode on

Firewall - Ok

Vital signs below established norms

Smartlinks reestablished:

                Contact Lenses – Ok

                                Thermographics – Ok

                                Flare Compensation - Ok

Commlink  / Commlink OS – Ok

                Customized Smartgun OS 2.07a – Ok

Reboot Complete

Personal settings applied

Incoming message…

The commlink communication was clear and clean, a good sign that the damage to John’s cyberware was superficial. The female voice, smooth and sultry, sounded like the voice of a young detective from a neo-modern entertainment show from the 10’s, ‘John, your vital signs suggest weakness but you are in no imminent danger’

That’s comforting. How long before my location can be triangulated.

‘Initial modeling suggests that your location is already known. There is a ninety two point two per cent chance that the agents hunting you will be at your location in four minutes and thirty eight seconds. However, the margin for error is large. Your adversary’s capabilities are largely unknown. I would suggest you get up.’

No shit. …and the rest of the plan?

‘Underway, data purges will be complete in fifteen minutes.’

He had to buy time. John pulled himself up against a nearby dumpster, his limbs beginning to unfreeze, enhanced adrenal glands pumping artificial accelerants into his blood stream. The greasy remains of packaging trapped in the door of the dumpster smeared further unpleasant stains on his expensive suit. He was angry, a side effect of the chemicals, at least in part. He was pissed at himself, disgusted at how he’d screwed up.

Stone checked his smart guns both physically and via his smartlink. All good, scratches only and full magazines ready for violence. He fished around in the inner lining of his suit. He cautiously pulled out a black cylinder the shape of an eighty per cent scale hockey puck.

Time Olivia.

 ‘Three minutes, thirteen seconds. Five consistent matrix signatures are converging on your location.’

He twisted the top of the puck clockwise, its upper circular face lighting up with time, blast radius and power level information. He sent a pulse of information from his commlink setting the parameters for the device and then twisted the top back to lock the configuration.  He dropped the bomb into the dumpster as he started walking hurriedly towards 4^th street. A heads up map of the vicinity highlighted his location, other nearby personal nodes and the five approaching adversaries appeared in his field of view.  The five shaded regions defining the location of his adversaries morphed and shrunk as Olivia’s models calculated and recalculated the uncertainty of their position based on all the data she could gather.

4^th street was busy, blessedly so. Slow moving vehicle traffic on the street and even slower moving shoppers on the sidewalks formed an obstacle course for anyone uninterested in following the general flow of the crowd. Most of them had come from the baseball game at the Red Dome. Data popped up in Stone’s peripheral display.

                        Reds Q: 15W (2 fatalities, 3 injuries)  /  Astros H:  7L (4 fatalities)

Stone dropped his matrix ID and then logged in with a new ID, a safety precaution in case he was being tracked. Who was he kidding? He was being tracked and they would find him. It was just a matter of timing.

He crossed the street just as it began to snow.  He referred to his heads up display again, as he sidestepped into a narrow alleyway. Four of his adversaries showed up on the map, just where they should be.  Olivia!  Sound like that of a backfiring truck distracted him, followed by screams and a wave of heat, dissipating the snow and the holiday cheer. He’d got four of them, no innocent fatalities, and lots of collateral damage. Usually he’d take pleasure in that, but he’d missed one.

Olivia, I hope you have an idea where that target is.

‘Unfortunately, my error margin on temporal and spatial location for the fifth target puts it somewhere in Q city or one of its suburbs. It must be using sophisticated counter-measures and I have some evidence to suggest that it is using a series of spoofing and false-spoofing strategies to remain concealed.’

Great. Well, in that case, lets hope I can kill it…

A rain of bullets from above brought an abrupt halt to Stone’s thought. Over a brief second, John twisted his body away trying to form as small a target as possible to the sniper above. As he dove for cover, he glanced up taking a couple of still shots of the silhouetted figure above, sliding them aside on his visual display.

… when it finds me, he finished his thought. Perhaps, you could enhance those pics and see if we can figure out what I’m dealing with, he squirted to Olivia. Simultaneously, he unholstered his two smartpistols, selected armor piercing rounds for the weapon in his left hand and explosive rounds in the right. Crosshairs appeared in his vision.  He landed gracelessly behind a low wall on some steps leading down to a sub-level door. It looked sturdy.

‘I do not have enough data to identify the entity attacking you. It is humanoid but not human. It is approximately one point nine two meters tall. This is the best image enhancement I can provide of its face.’

One of the still digital images zoomed in on the facial region of Stone’s assailant. It looked insectoid, carapace plates, with markings that could be a part of its shell or paint. Gang markings maybe, but if it was any local group or any group with a criminal record, Olivia would have pointed it out. The head was that of an ant but with a flatter nose and a line of sharpened ‘teeth’ were suggested in a slightly open mouth. Its eyes were just black blots against the bright, false enhancement of the image.  He had only a few moments to take it in before he saw more muzzle flashes from above.

The creature was making its way down the metal fire escape stairs on the north wall of the building across from Stone. This thing was agile, taking half a set of steps at a time. It took a few more shots.  It was careful to use the metal steps and the railing as cover against Stone’s return fire. Stone waited, he’d not fired a shot yet. The insectoid was only firing off enough rounds to keep Stone behind the cover he had found. The bullets were ricocheting off the wall, pieces of brick and mortar exploding away at each impact.

Stone carefully selected targets on the fire escape structure and estimated the trajectory by which the creature would fall if the metal framework came away as he expected. He took a deep breath, stood up to get a better view and fired seven shots.

Three explosive rounds hit the fire escape framework. The old structure did not collapse away from the wall as Stone had hoped but the metal did buckle and the creature with the assault rifle was thrown from the steps. Stone’s tracking of the creature was only slightly off and the two armor-piercing rounds from his left hand hit the creature squarely in its back where a human’s lungs would be. Then, in panicked genius, he turned and fired a round from each gun at a second assailant, instinct and adrenaline saving his life. The creature’s head and chest exploded from the impact, but not before it pulled the trigger on the rifle it held in both hands. Stone felt the impact of several bullets as he was hammered against the wall of the steps. His left shoulder, ribs and elbow shattered under the barrage of high caliber ammunition. The pistol in his left hand slipped from useless fingers.

Artificial adrenaline pumped the pain out of reach, driving Stone to anger instead of unconsciousness. Ahhh… for fuck’s sake, Olivia, how long? And are there any more?

‘One minute, seven seconds.   … and unknown, the entities have successfully shown the ability to remain hidden from my sensors and act unpredictably as compared to my models.’

No shit, very helpful.

Stone glanced at the first insectoid.  It was still twitching. He needed to be sure it was dead. He put two more rounds into its head and then a round into the equivalent of its thorax and abdomen. Security forces were likely on their way. He grabbed and pulled a feeler away from its ruined head. Evidence, maybe it would help him to figure out what was going on.

He holstered his gun, pulled off his suit jacket and wrapped it around his ruined arm.  He was starting to feel the cold. He needed to find time to rest up.

‘Data purge complete. Predictably, the purge has been observed. Government agents are on the scene. An investigation number has been filed.’

It’s done. I need a secure link to Rebecca and call me a taxi. I need to get to the Old Cellar.

‘Link established.’

Rebecca’s icon flashed up on his display.  Stone, what do you want?  The gruff tones of the troll’s baritone voice coming through clearly over the commlink.

I need a team, new team, untraceable….

What for?

Infiltration, retrieval, violence, ethics might be detrimental.

OK, anything else.

Yeah, I need a place to hole up.  I’m on my way.

And I’m helping you why?

5%, and a story to die for.

10% and you can keep your story.

Done…   see you in 20 minutes.

Can’t wait.

Static

A Correspondance to my Comrades

We have cleared much dust beneath our feet over the past few weeks. I know next to nothing about you, and Avandra be damned, if these were any other circumstances I would want nothing more than to be extricated from the likes of your kind. However, the winds of this world traverse in unexplainable fashion, and I have grown to see more in you than what your deplorably inferior externals may extol. You all have shown your stripes as men of honor, and warrior brothers (if that term is even applicable to Goblins).

My story is a sorrowful tale filled with violence and horror. It was several years ago, we were celebrating the Krunk Festival (commemoration of the slaying of Egede, a green Dragon who attacked our mine) deep in the Voran Mines. Meat was roasting, songs were singing, and merriment soaked the halls like a deep red wine. As the great bell toned it's fifth great moan (for the five arrows who pierced the heart of the wicked Egede) a tumultuous roar shattered the air. It was Nerluc! The great brother of Egede had come for vengeance! Our warriors mustered, our defenses manned, but when we peered toward the great chamber of the entrance hall what we saw was beyond believe: Nerluc stood grand and tall in the center of the hall spitting his vile mouth-spit at the great doors (which led to the rest of the mines). Behind and around him were hundreds of Goblins, elves in dark cloaks, and terrible men. They had lead Nerluc to us, bent on using him to kill us all and then steal the riches of our empire.

A dragon is a mighty fight for an army of dwarves, but to face him and an army of allied peoples was just too much for us. They laid siege for seven days at the gates of Voran, Nerluc coating the exterior in venom, the armies of men, elves, and goblins pounding at the door - ever pounding. Like the breaths of a dwarf heaving under his pestilent doom, the pounding shook the mine to its core. Each one a toll for the inevitable outcome that would ensue to those who would stay. It was decided three days into the siege that as many dwarves as could go would leave the mines though Dwalin's tunnel with as much riches as they could carry, the ones who would stay would make sure the acts of those treacherous ones would reap them nothing but the bones of the brave. I stayed, my father and brothers and most everyone I loved left. Twas me, Ale Sharpstone, Nibor Flintmail, Liga Silvertongue, and Lien Blackhammer to deal with the sundering. Lien and Liga manned the defenses, making sure to make volley to the aggressors. Nibor and I set about destroying the riches of Voran.

We raised the furnaces and forges to a hellish heat; no care to the safety was taken, this would be their last deed. Into the furnaces was tossed the great clothes, tapestries, and tomes of our society. The furnaces who gave life to our society through the smelting of ore gave the blow of death to Voran. In the forges we delivered the great metal works mixing all the gold, iron, silver, and steel. We raised the temperature so that the attackers would find nothing but a worthless lump at the bottom at the coals. Hours it took me and Nibor to burn the metal, pumping at the bellows and using all the coal we had left. On the seventh day, our deeds were complete within the mines. It was nothing more than a hole in the ground.

As Nibor and I made our way toward the gates Liga came running up to us. It had seemed that Lien had taken a big smulch of Nerluc's venom and been reduced to dwarf stew on the spot. At that moment the sound of the great gates finally giving way ruptured the air followed by the growl of Nerluc. "Make haste! To Dwalin's tunnel lest we be more dwarf stew for Nerluc," I said running in full sprint. We three made it out in the last instant, sealed the tunnel, and headed into the darkness of the Voran hills.

We reached a road a few days after. None who had left before us had been found let alone a single track. We travelled together a few days more until we reached a fork leading in three directions. This was it, the last stand of the dwarves of the Voran Mines. We decided each to take a path by drawing lots, hoping that the path we took would lead us to the rest of our people. Alas, as we all know my path did not lead me to my brothers, but into your company.

I see now that I must be the first of a new city. The first of a new kingdom of dwarves - and maybe of the Fellows of my Travels. Avandra guide us, and guide me to be purified to be the right seed for a start of a new kingdom!

- Ale Sharpstone, Dune Trader

Secret Conversations

Talon follows the nubile cat woman over the sandy terrain trying to keep his mind on stealth and keeping up with his new, agile 'friend' instead of her shapely figure. She leads him to the edge of the elven encampment. She clearly has some knowledge of the camp's daily activities as she skillfully maneuvers Talon around the frequent patrols.

The tribal encampment is mostly quiet. Except for those on official business; the elves and their allies are resting and recouperating from the feast and party that is apparently a part of daily life for the tribe.

As Talon draws closer to the tents at the outer boundary of the encampment, the cat woman places a finger to her lips directing him to silence, and whispers to him, 'listen'.

In the quiet still air, cooling from the heat of the day, a whispered conversation can be heard. Through the thin canvas walls of the nearby tent, two males are arguing. Talon immediately recognizes one of the voices as that of Carabba, the tribe's shaman.

This is not going to be exactly the same as the live event, but hopefully will be clarifying and fun.

".. I think I must help them," the elf continues.
"It is a mistake. They have proven themselves to be thugs and mercenaries. They are not the people you seek," the other man responds, his voice low, gruff and careful.
"They are the people of the prophecy, even your old woman believed that, and would you expect them to be soft, " the elf replies.
"Then help them and I will help them in my own way, remember, she is dead."
"Do not get in the way of what must happen for the sake of vengeance."
"That is not my way Elf, as you well know."
"The dwarf has the mark..."
"The dwarf hates you and your kind, if he helps you it will be by accident."
"The minotaur then and the shifter.... my people are already talking, and the weres are on the move again."
"You're dreaming, you know that the part the Minotaurs have played is a question. He may damn us. He may truly be working for Balfeus."
"and what of you?" responds the Elf quickly.
"An unfair question, my loyalties have already been tested," the gruff voice responds, his breathing ragged and pained.
"I will help them. I will give them what they need to close all the portals at once... should they wish to."
"That may play into Balfeus' hands."
"May, could!! But the end of the portals will weaken him."
"As I said. I will help them in my own way. The demon kin will appreciate the irony."
"Do not bring their ire on my clan, they have shown themselves to be destructive."
"Really, I had not noticed... " the sarcasm drips.
"Sacrifices have to be made." responds the Elven shaman.
"I hope when the dust settles that your saviours agree with you."
"It is no matter... the spirits of the land and the sky are screaming for change."
"I doubt this little band care about your sensibilities Shaman."
"I care little about theirs, but some things must come to pass and the portals must close before anything else will change."
"...and my help will speed things along."
"You play with fire."
"Now that is ironic Elf. I must rest... the days to come will be tiring."

The conversation ends and Talon sneaks away with his new, mysterious, curvaceous ally.

Cammiors Journal - The Awakening

The Awakening – Day 1

Pain and suffering is all I can remember. Where am I? Who am I? These simple things escape me. I must write. I must remember.

The Awakening – Day 4

After wondering for days in this blood stained desert, I find many places where towns and cities once stood. They have been eaten by the constant barrage of small red particles. There is no sign of life. Am I alone? Why do I feel a strange connection to this place?

The Awakening – Day 10

No water, yet I do not feel thirsty. No food, yet I do not feel hungry. Nightmares plague my dreams. Scattered in the nightmares I see blue, yellow, pink, purple and red flowered meadows.

The Awakening – Day 17

I came across something vile today. I don’t know why but I felt connected to, but at the same time, disgusted by it. It led me back to a cave where it and others were worshiping some sort of large glyph. I did not kill them. I should have.

The Awakening – Day 18

Cammior! From the Orgile cast! My memory is getting better and my body is changing. The desert crawls with biting insects that plague my skin. Boils have appeared on my forehead.

The Awakening – Day 25

I have been lingering in this desert for a while. The symmetric boils on my forehead have turned to large calluses, my skin has turned a red hue, and nightmares still wake me in the night. My connection to this barren place feels like a heavy weight on my back. I feel somewhat responsible. Void of “good” and surrounded by “evil”.

The Awakening – Day 26

I must atone. I must return to that flower field. I must not watch as this world turns to blood stained sand.

Ahmed's Desert Runners

Caravan under contract to the House Wavir of Balic

From a distance, the long train of wagons and beasts disappears into the swirl of dust and sand that its slow dependable passage kicks up. As one draws closer, the large beasts of burden and the fat wheeled wagons come into focus. The caravan is a hive of activity: laborers assure that life supporting supplies and trade goods remain well secured; beast riders yell to their charges giving them direction and handling them with gruff respect; warriors and mercenaries ride crodlu on patrol routes close to the caravan seeking hidden threats and further afield seeking to steer the caravan clear of would be raiders and ambushes.

Of this trade concern, several characters stand out:

Ahmed – Fast talking, expensively clothed, spiritual leader of the caravan. This man is the wheeler, the dealer and the heart of the caravan. Clearly, he is not in charge on a daily basis, that would be Albin. It is obvious though that Albin does not have the easy talent with people that Ahmed has and that they work in a peculiar partnership.

Albin – Rugged brute of a man dressed in desert clothing and light carapace piecemeal armor once of a fine quality but now quite weathered from long use. Dirt brown skin, black hair, dark eyes and a water-starved athletic build makes him look like he is a part of the desert. Even after a short time with the caravan, it is clear that the other caravan members respect him and allude to rumors of his more sinister side. Allegedly, he is independently wealthy in many cities and is wanted in at least one, perhaps for a high profile assassination, perhaps.

Herzig and Gomro – The Dwarf Captain and the Half-Giant Lieutenant respectively, lead the small contingent of caravan guards against any and all threats that might rear their often ugly heads in the waste lands. They also guard the trade goods against would-be thieves when the caravan arrives in town. Good friends, their humor and sarcasm is often lost on outsiders. Apparently, Herzig is a consummate warrior, but has a tendency towards disastrous destruction when trying his hand at artistic or engineering endeavours. Gomro is an ex-enforcer and thug from a crime syndicate in Tyr.

Brithis – The Mercenary Mull (Half-Dwarf) is the more experienced of the six mercenaries working for the caravan. She’s butch, she’s a brute, but she is a young woman which means she gets a lot of unwanted attention and a lot of blood ends up on the sand, other peoples’ blood. She has done the Tyr to Balic run a few times and knows the pitfalls.

Giulianna – The slightly crazed prophetess has paid for passage with visions. Apparently, her visions have come true in the past and Ahmed and Albin have taken advantage, making a killing, perhaps literally. She is a withered old lady with barely any flesh on her bones. As to her species, it is difficult to say, probably human.
In a nutshell she thinks:
Cerner will have his army.
Cammior has ties to the enemy he faces and may be able to find allies because of it.
Talon has brethren in the wastes and they need him, perhaps he needs them… look to the moons.
Ale is the last gatekeeper and is being pulled into a terrible destiny
Minron the minotaur, the race that powered the gates and perhaps the one who can stop their use once and for all, and may be, unfortunately, a wasteland messiah
Balfeus is a sorcerer king in Balic and there is a portal there. The sorcerer-kings draw there power from the portals.
Tyr has recently been freed of its sorcerer-king.

Anna – The beautiful human companion of Ahmed. You are not sure what her story is yet. Is she a wife or a slave? You do know she doesn’t wear very much.

Carabba – An elf with unusual and potentially useful talents. Gold hair and darkly tanned skin make him striking but not particularly handsome. His desert clothing, mostly light in color, has seen better days and now is in tatters billowing in the breeze. Can he be trusted, is he an ally, does he hold a grudge? All good questions….

The Blight 'Outlaws of Umbar' Setting Summary

More than a thousand years ago, the Verdant Lands sprawled beyond the mountain range to the south out into the open plains of the Red Rock grasslands. The grasslands teamed with life; tribes, coastal cities and vicious marauders.

When Balfeus and the Magi opened the first spirit gates into the outer world, seeking new sources of magical power and a unique way to travel vast distances, they knew their arcane workings had gone terribly wrong.

The spirit gates began to leach life and natural magical energy from the earth and all living things. Most of the Magi struggled to close the gates before the disaster polluted everything. Their efforts were resisted by strange dark forces from beyond the gates and by a handful of corrupt Magi led by Kane the Betrayer.

The corruption of the gates has scarred the world forever. The south has become a desert wasteland. Most of the portals are now sites of twisted ruins. Magical items have become difficult to craft, but unique treasures can still be found in all corners of the world. Magic is still powerful in the world but it requires personal investment and a powerful spirit.

The Verdant Lands is now a highly contested region of fertile land; cultivated fields, vineyards, olive groves, meadows, forests and rolling hills. The peninsula is broken up into seven small countries that are split up again into counties controlled by major hill towns. Conflict and competition between countries and hill towns are common and often break out into acts of violence and subterfuge.

The lands between the hill towns are often wild and unguarded; a home for bandits, humanoid tribes and lone monsters. But, the wilds also contains many ancient ruins of civilizations past. Such ruins can be the source of great treasures as well as grave dangers.
Always to the south, the Red Wastes inexorably expand, draining the life from the borders of the Verdant Land. It is feared that one day the world will be a lifeless rock and then perhaps the inhabitants from beyond the spirit gates will invade.

In the Red Wastes, new cultures are forming, little known of by the population of the Verdant Land. Hardened races savagely cut out a means to survive upon the desert sands.

Other lands, other taverns, a new D20 Setting

Twilight of the Winds
The Belowland
The Grey Wastes is an inhospitable land far to the south of the Great Nations. In the midst of this rocky desert, the Belowland is a cool and rainy region capable of comfortably supporting all kinds of flora and fauna. It is also a source for the much sought after silver diamonds known as ‘Sorcrystals’ that can be used to make powerful magical items.

About 100 years ago, a band of Human and Halfling explorers came on ships to the Grey Wastes in search of the Belowland. A brother and sister, Avidal and Bonata led the explorers. When they arrived, they discovered new intelligent species indigenous to Belowland: the Elves of the Black Wood, and the Gnomes and Dwarves of the Shattered Mesa. They also soon learned that the Elves and Dwarves were in a feud that had lasted for generations, sometimes leading to terrible battles on the shores of the Glimmer Water. Only in defense of Belowland against the monster war tribes of the Wastes had they learned to work together.

Over time, Avidal and Bonata took different sides in this feud and two nations were formed, named after the famous explorers.

Bonata
The land of Bonata formed first as a trade partnership between Humans and Dwarves. This kingdom has become wealthy by selling Sorcrystals to the Great Nations. The dangerous coastal and river routes to the Great Nations are now quite busy with Bonatan ship and barge traffic. Hardy Dwarves and independent Humans and Halflings have learned to thrive together. Only a few stalwart extremist Dwarves are upset by the Human incursion.

Avidal
The land of Avidal is still known as Kai’arunië or ‘Black Wood’ to the Elves. The union of the Humans and Elves in this country was formed by love and tradition. Aeleanora, Elven princess, fell in love with and secretly married Avidal against the wishes of her family in a tale that is now a favorite amongst bards. Elven tradition passes rule of their lands along the female line and so the Elven realm was forever changed. Rhianna the Half-Elven has only recently been crowned Queen of Avidal. She does not have the support of all of the Elves or all of the Humans. There are rumors that another branch of the Elven family are gathering support to usurp their Half-Elven queen.

The Wonders and Mysteries of Belowland
Much of Belowland is unexplored wilderness with treasures to be discovered. There are many ruins dotted about the countryside, a remnant of an ancient civilization about which the Dwarves and Elves do not speak. Perhaps, the most mysterious of these ancient monuments are the Temples of the Four Winds.

Temples of the Four Winds
Four ancient temples have been found in the Belowland, to the north, south, east and west. Curiously, the buildings are in quite a good condition for their apparent age and the gods that they were constructed to worship seem to be the same as those worshipped in the Great Nations. Some newcomers speculate that the ancient civilization of Belowland may have once been an outpost of the Great Nations. The clerics of the Great Nations have been quick to take ownership of these old churches, though this is the source of some consternation with the locals.

Shadowvale
The biggest city in Belowland is one of the many sources of contention between the elves and the dwarves. Shadowvale has become the center of commerce for Belowland and is under elven control. It is centered about the only natural land bridge across the river and has the best portage locations for trafficking goods. Though everyone is allowed to come and go in Shadowvale freely, Avidalans tax goods entering and leaving the city heavily. A wooden fortification protects Shadowvale on the south side, but the gates have been left open for almost a decade now.

Twilight
In the east of Avidal, in the Silver wood, an ancient ruin of a vast city can be found. Some say it is haunted. Some say that on moonlit nights the spires and glory of bygone days can be seen atop the ruin. People go missing on those nights, and some believe that the Twilight city is less ruined than it looks.

Stronghold
Built on the plateau of Khag’s mesa, Stronghold is a city filled with the ingenuity and engineering of the Dwarves and Gnomes. Though a winding and dangerous path does lead up to the city, only unwanted guests use it. Its inhabitants use pulleys, levers, cogs and wheels to pull and drop elevators down the sides of the mesa allowing efficient and speedy travel in and out of the city. The city itself is built on top, along the sides and inside the vast towering rock. Dwarves take pride in the artistry and engineering of their buildings and many of the towers and mansions of the city are beautiful marvels.

The Escarpment and rogue’s hour
Belowland is surrounded by a high cliff known as the Escarpment. This geographical feature provides some protection from the denizens of the Grey Wastes even though there are many treacherous routes up and down the wall. The Escarpment also protects the land somewhat from the hot desert sun. However, sunrise and sunset take much longer in Belowland as the sun must rise over the vast cliff before full daylight falls on the land. This time of shadow and twilight is commonly known as the rogue’s hour as it is a favorite time for criminals to be abroad in the cities.

Beasts, The Grey Wastes, and other threats
The unexplored parts of Belowland contain many threats. Unique monsters, hidden tribes, ancient traps, bandits and even pirates on the river can often lead to sudden and unpleasant death. Beyond the Escarpment, monster war tribes fight for survival and resources, and are often tempted by the fertile lands below. Raiders and roving tribes are a common threat around the edges of Belowland.
Sometimes the tension between the countries, Avidal and Bonata, feels like it will break out into fighting. For now healthy trade and common defense are good reasons to keep the peace.

Are you ready to make your way in Belowland?