The Alaran Update

Okay. I am a Horrible Person. Note the capitals – that’s my language saying how majorly bad a person I am. I haven’t posted in almost two months. In my defense, it wasn’t two months. Just almost. So, I’m sorry. Especially since I promised something special on the twelfth. Of July. Which was last month. But, in my defense again, I have been working on this Alara thing for over a year now. I was due a respite. And I took it. I’ve had a great summer. I’ve created about a thousand magic cards, because that’s just what I do in my spare time. I’ve received a suggestion from an unnamed contributor to create a Wyrmspire themed Magic:The Gathering set. After consideration, I have decided that would be awesome. As soon as I finish my Australian set and my Artifact Tribal set. But anyway, my summer’s winding down, I should probably read The Robe, and things like that. So I’m posting again. Jubilation.

This is it. The post that will change Alara… forever. Okay, it’s not that dramatic. It’s a story update, nothing more. But it’s a pretty eventful story update. Five years have passed in Alara. It’s not just any five years, either. It’s an awesome five years. (Note: I will be posting links to previous articles in case you can’t find the relevance of the tidbit you just read)

823 A.F., the “present day” of the Alara of yore, has now become 828 A.F.

What’s happened in between, you ask?

823 A.F. – Toward the end of the year, Selvern (city of the Satyrs, if you remember) is burned to the ground. It’s unknown where the blaze began, but it made quick work of a city that is, for the most part, tree. The Satyr wizards are strangely powerless to stop it, and the entire city burns. Rumors abound as to the start of the fire: was it the Alliance attempting to weaken their enemies, or perhaps the Twelve providing “motivation” for the Satyrs to go to war against the Alliance? It’s unknown.

824 A.F. – Benedict IV announces his heir. The city waits with bated breath. Turns out – it’s his daughter. Keara Lynn Dargonne is the next in line for the throne. This is met with mixed reaction. The council is equally split between wanting to stab Benedict in the face for spitting on tradition, and giggling at the people who are outraged. Benedict’s youngest son, Randolph Thaddeus Dargonne, comes out of the closet. He begins hanging around with a minotaur sailor named Jurek. Adrian Benedict Dargonne, the expected and expectant heir, disappears completely. Keara continues adventuring, entirely ignoring the edict. (More on Wyrmspire’s Royal Family)

Elder Kharat Karandul of the Dwarven Council of Elders in Wyrmspire dies, and before he manages to push through legislation declaring wind dwarves not dwarves. (Click here for the whole story.) Karag Narath, a wind dwarf, becomes the new member. The Council of Elders becomes infinitely more liberal.

In the Wastes, the city of Tugél Vas decides that it’s had bloody well enough with the way things are going for it. Tugél Vas begins extending the hand of diplomacy to whoever it wishes – i.e., all of its enemies at the same time. It’s unknown how this is going to work out for it. Meanwhile, the Hundrites, fanatical skeleton worshipers of Black Hundriss, continue to grow in power.

Benedict IV begins, in secret, negotiations with a foreign power know as the Arak. This leaks out, and the council is outraged. Eventually, however, they agree to continue the negotiations Benedict began.

825 A.F. – The Twelve move their armies closer to the lands of the Alliance, establishing the military outpost of Turas. This makes the entire Alliance very uneasy.

Several small kingdoms decide to break their allegiance with Wyrmspire, though maintaining their loyalty to the Alliance. It’s unknown why this matters, but they appear to take it very seriously.

Thaddeus Irongate, High Baron of Irongate, decides to use this to take issue with the liberal king of Wyrmspire, who he’s never really liked. He declares the dwarven kingdom “at odds” with Wyrmspire. No one really knows what that means. What is known is that Thaddeus begins being much nastier to Benedict at council meetings.

Prince Adrian Benedict Dargonne shows up in Wyrmspire again, making peace with his family and agreeing to stay near even if he doesn’t have the throne. This may seem all well and fine, but rumors say that he’s secretly an agent of the twelve.

In the Wastes, Ihirin the Just, leader of Citadel Gishnath, is assassinated. Lord Vaethil the Game, a crippled and decrepit Asilin, is appointed in his place. Lord Vaethil is a classist, though ironically he doesn’t distinguish much between Asilin and Humans. Gishnath becomes a stratified, class-based city, with a system of nobles on top and everyone else in the metaphorical mud.

Tugél Vas makes an alliance of convenience with Citadel Zarathas, and the two begin waging war on everything in sight, in the knowledge that as soon as everything else is wiped out they’ll go at each other’s throats.

Negotiations with the Arak nation continue, and a trade route is opened up between the Alliance and the Arak. Though their location was previously kept a secret from most even on the council, the Arak nation apparently lies in the far west. Sentinel Watch, an island in the west of the Cloudsea, is used as an in-between point.

826 A.F. – Surviving Satyrs begin to rebuild the ruins of their city, naming it New Selvern. These Satyrs are part of a political group that considers the Twelve responsible for Selvern’s burning, and break their alliance, though many vengeant Satyrs have at this point joined the Twelve’s armies, and are stationed in Turas. Diplomatic mumbo-jumbo begins, with the Twelve attempting to get New Selvern back and the Alliance attempting to make a new ally. New Selvern maintains its neutrality, becoming a veritable Switzerland in the middle of the Civilized Lands.

The Dwarves of Below figure out a way to contact the dwarves of New Below: they weave a strong rope, uncountable miles long (actually, they’ve counted it, but the figure is confidential, they don’t want people to figure things out), attach a bit of rock with “if you can read this, tug thrice” and “p.s. no demons or things with many arms” etched on it to the rope, attach one end of the rope to a building, and drop the other end. Sure enough, after a few days, a tug comes. They begin communicating.

Proxy wars between various small states begin. Wyrmspire and Turas send their various armies in to intervene.

The Hundrites establish Citadel Hundriss in the Wastes, a monument to their increasing power. As a monument to their increasing insanity, the citadel is also completely movable. It flies around the Wastes and they kill things.

Trades and negotiations continue between the Alliance and the Arak nation.

827 A.F. – Thulin Thunderboot sends word from Swelterholm, two years after he’s declared dead. While exploring the ruins there, he discovered a stone tablet with an odd truth etched in it: There was no Ulëndras. He was a fictional character created by Dräsilith around the year 800 E.F. in order to stabilize his rule. It’s unknown what Dräsilith was, but he certainly wasn’t a Royal Dragon. The entire history of humanity from 800 E.F. backwards was fabricated. The tablet that referred to this was proved true by a little-known sigil used by the Dragonkings of the late A.F. period. It’s unknown how the Dragonkings came about if there were no Royal Dragons.

This discovery causes craaazy hubamajub. Imagine figuring out that your entire history was false. Not a good trip. Everyone starts arguing, attempting to get more research done on this. In the midst of this, Denedius Argyle, father of Benedict IV’s wife Queen Katalina Dargonne, manages to fenagle in a questioning of Benedict’s claim to the throne. This makes no sense, as Benedict is not connected in any way with Ulëndras or Dräsilith, but in the wake of the revelation the populace generally distrusts royalty, and Benedict had attempted to form an alliance with the Arak in secret, so the council convenes to discuss things.

The Council manages to force Benedict IV off the throne, and he goes into self-imposed exile working with the Grey Dawn. The issue the council faces is who to put in Benedict’s place: Denedius Argyle is old and his name is silly, Queen Katalina is biased towards Benedict, Prince Adrian might be a traitor, and Prince Randolph has a minotaur lover. The Council decides on putting Princess Keara, most apathetic of the various royals, in charge. The royalty thing being thrown in question, she is for the moment known as Magistrate Keara Lynn Dargonne.

Meanwhile in the Wastes, the Crows break out in war over the dual identity of their Sighted One. It’s a rather hectic war, as the only dividing line is philosophy, and seriously, have you ever tried to fight a war over philosophy? No one knows what’s going on.

The Council finally decides on a full alliance with the Arak nation, and announces its agreement to the populace. Reactions are mixed, as though the Arak diplomat is incredibly eloquent and highly sophisticated, his form is twisted and strange. It’s soon discovered, after a series of traders from Arak arrive in Wyrmspire, that all of his race are like this: sophisticated, but with rather harsh voices and forms. This strange race calls themselves the Uth. (Hint: picture mercantile orcs. Haha, I found a way to get orcs into alara without having them be barbaric motherfluffers.)

828 A.F. – It turns out Benedict was keeping a bit of peace after all. A small war breaks out in the mountains near New Selvern between the nations of Arrowswift and Dagurn. Arrowswift is an ancient and noble nation who has traditionally had ties to the throne (often providing spouses for kings), and Dagurn is a place whose royal lineage has had occasional ties to necromancy. Obviously, in the craze of anti-royalness, the Council ends up siding with Dagurn. The Twelve side with Arrowswift in response, further blurring every line ever. Things go batshit, though it’s not full-on the Fifth Imperial War… yet.

The street violence between Clan Axebreaker and Clan Lakedeath in the Dwarven Quarter escalates. It becomes unsafe to walk the streets of the Dwarven Quarter, so the wind dwarves begin building sky tunnels, large walkways above the street. This is odd for traditionally underground creatures, but it works. Of course, the street dwarves immediately begin blowing the skytunnels up. Things continue.

In the Wastes, the Zantith necromancers do an amazing thing. The underground city of Aux Azalia rises – it enters the world as a gigantic dirty megalith. Things go even crazier in the Wastes, as the Zantith begin fighting for real. Turns out, there’s more of them than anyone considered possible, perhaps about half as many as the Asilin – but they’re all on the same side.

The Uth of Arak and the Humans of the Alliance continue to intermingle, with some humans leaving for the land of the Arak and some Uth living in Wyrmspire or Below.


So, that’s what’s going on. Expect a post on the Arak nation sometime soon, and perhaps a character bio of Benedict, ’cause I really like him. Comments would be appreciated on whatever you consider delicious — or conversely, not. Oh, and the reason for the human history retcon is that I realized that having upwards of four thousand years all plotted out perfectly is really boring. I mean, what would happen if I needed some ancient empire for a campaign and couldn’t use the mega one? Would it be even older than that? That’d be silly. Anyway, see you next post.


Alara: Pantheon

Yeah, so I’m redoing the pantheon, based on the fact that things have changed since last summer, and also I think all the religious information of Alara should be in one, easily-accessible place. So here goes. (note that we’ve gone past the one-year anniversary of the inception of alara, but not yet the one year anniversary of me calling it Alara. That’s the twelfth. Maybe that’ll be the day I post the update)

The Young Pantheon
The Young Pantheon, also known as the Archan Pantheon, was brought to the Civilized Lands in the year 42 E.F. It has since become the dominant pantheon in both the Civilized Lands and the Wastes. The major book of the young pantheon is te’Archan Dal, or the Book of Archus (in old common). Archus and his ilk took over from the elder gods in a war of epic proportions, which eventually ripped the continents from the ground and produced the world of Alara now know.

Archus is the king of the gods — the young pantheon, that is. His favored form is that of a roughly middle-aged, well-muscled man with black hair and beard turning to gray in places. Other forms he takes are that of a white-haired but still muscular dwarf, or occasionally, when he’s in a battling mood, a large, well-muscled mountain dragon. Basically, he likes well-muscledness. His favored weapon is the broadsword, and his favored animals are, and this is a direct quote from te’Archan Dal: “Anythinge with a large amont of ferocitie, goode examples beinge the lyonne or egle.” This makes the griffin very archusish. Archus’ alignment is Lawful Good, and his tenants are as follows:

  • Be notte a pricke.
  • Uphold Law, Honorre, and Order.
  • Dance like no onne is watchinge. (it’s thought that this is a mistranslation).

Archus is most often worshiped by any variety of city-living, orderized people. The humans of the Civilized Lands and the Dwarves of Irongate both revere him considerably lots. He’s basically ignored in the Wastes, and the elves are bored by him.

Helena is Archus’ sister and (yes, we know this is kind of yucky, but gods can do this ’cause they don’t adhere to the regular rules of genetics) consort. Where consort means “off-and-on girlfriend that really thinks he’s a bit of a dork.” They really do love each other, really, and they’ve had at least three kids (perchance more, some of the demigods lying about have dubious heritages), but at this point Helena finds it more fun to just mess with Archus. For example, there’s currently a temple of Archus balanced exactly on the edge of the world. That’d be Helena. Helena is the goddess of trickery, love, and kindness. Quite a repertoire. She only ever appears as a very beautiful human woman, probably of around 35 or so, with long, brown hair and a pleasant smile.. Her favored weapon is the shortsword, and she likes cats. Cats are often considered to be sacred to Helena. Her alignment is Good, and her founding principles are:

  • Be nice to those who deserve it.
  • If it’s funny and not particularly damaging, it’s worth doing.
  • If the rich deserved their riches, they’d guard them better.

Helena is, mostly for the third principle, often payed tribute to by career thieves. The Wyrmspire Thieves’ Guild, for instance, is known to have a small shrine to her in the guildhall. Any manner of wanderer or rogue can find acceptance at her temples. Elves love her. She is also considered to be the patron goddess of Wyrmspire.

Anator is Archus’ brother and enemy. He’s a massive prick, and holds a deep belief that chaos is the ultimate form of life, and that all should be returned to chaos. In that vein, he is one of the most active gods in the mortal sphere, usually sewing chaos and breeding dissent. At least half of the wars in the past millenium can be traced back to an Anatorian starting point. Anator’s favored weapon is the flail and his favored animal is the wolf, though he also likes moose, for some reason. He often takes the form of a deathly thin, scraggly-haired human man, or a black-furred Njorlghar, or a giant swamp dragon. He is Chaotic Evil, and these are his tenants:

  • If you can do something, why not do it?
  • The weak are weak for a reason, and should be taken advantage of.
  • Power is worth anything.

Anator has cults all over the place, but the only places where his temples are accepted in the mainstream are Argan Vas, Selvern, or anywhere in the Wastes where Hundrites are.

Plaggan is the king of the dead, and another, lesser brother of Archus. It’s often vague in Archan mythology where exactly the dead go (there’s some thought that they go to a peaceful realm in the middle of the Evertorn) but wherever they go, there Plaggan is king. He is a rather torn god, as he feels that the whole “god of the dead” things means he probably should be evil and follow Anator, but he likes his realm of dead things and his rule and thus more often follows Archus, as Anator’s plan is to dissolve everything, and that’s not okay. Plaggan rarely takes any form at all, but when he does it’s a seemingly empty suit of rusted bronze armor. His favored weapon is any variety of polearm, and his favored animal the vulture. He is Unaligned. Tenants:

  • Do not hasten mortals’ paths toward death, but do not mourn when life takes its course.
  • The dead should be treated with respect.

Plaggan is often a half-forgotten god, worshiped only by those with dead relatives who want to make things nice for their loved ones. There are no areas where worship of him is particularly prevalent, though the Njorlghar of Wyrmspire seem to have some love for him.

Zaran is another one of the Archan brothers. He’s more of a rogue than the rest, and spends his time sailing the cloudsea. He’s the god of all sailors and explorers, and one of the least present gods on Alara, while ironically being one of the most present, as he’s usually sailing. He only ever takes the form of a massive human man with hair and beard of clouds. When great sailors die, he snatches them from the grasps of Plaggan and sails with them aboard his ship. He has a large assortment of sailors, a combination of minotaurs, humans, elves, rhokari, underfoot, and one odd dwarf. His favored weapon is the scimitar, and his animal the gull. He is Good, and his tenants are thus:

  • Explore and see as much of the world as you can.
  • Who cares what happens today? Tomorrow you’ll leave, and you can have just as much fun in the next town.
  • Party hard.

Sailors of all sorts revere Zaran, as does anyone who lives near or on the Cloudsea: the Rhokari, the Minotaurs, and many humans.

Omora Agabai
Omora Agabai is the goddess of magic, and sister of Archus.  She’s mysterious and vaguely ADD.  Sometimes she spends decades trying to mold the world to good, and then seems to drift off and no one hears of her for years.  She’s generally for any kind of trickery and anything involving magic.  She also protects wanderers and those on the lower rings of society.  She takes the form of a short, tan-skinned half-elf woman with black hair, seeming to fade between purple and blue in places.  Her hair seems to move with a mind of its own, whirling about and occasionally twisting itself into a bun when it’s bored.  This form varies in age, occasionally young or very old, but always the same person.  Omora Agabai’s favored weapon is the stave, and her favored animal is the raven.  She is Unaligned.  Tenants:

  • Explore and discover all you can.
  • Live for the moment.
  • If they can’t take a joke, fuck them

Omora is payed tribute to by all variety of mage and thief.  The elves have large temples to her as well, and the Njorlghar occasionally like her too.

Rudolphus is the son of Archus and Helena.  He is a god of knowledge and discovery.  His favored form is that of a bookish-looking, robed elf with long brown hair.  His favored weapon is the ledger (yes, he whacks people with books) and his animal the owl.  He is often worshiped by scholars and mages.  Rudolphus is Good.

Jurgan is Rudolphus’ twin brother, another son of Archus and Helena.  He is of the opinion that his brother is a twat, and he’s probably right.  Jurgan is a god of war, of combat, of glory, of valor, all that stuff.  He is exceedingly honorable.  His favored form is that of a youthful warrior, bedecked in shining plate and full of happy swordage.  When he deals with the minotaurs, however, he’s a minotaur.  ’cause that makes sense.  His favored weapon is the battleaxe, and his animal the bull.  His worshipers are any kind of soldiers, and the entire minotaur nation.  He is Unaligned.

White Aretha is the youngest child of Archus and Helena — their daughter.  She is the god of orderly death, the one that takes and ferries the souls of those whose time has truly come.  Her favored form is that of a young, eerily beautiful woman with whiteblonde hair.  Her favored weapon is th scythe, and her animal the dove.  She is Lawful Good.   She’s most commonly worshiped by really anyone who wants their death to mean something.

Black Hundriss is the son of Helena and Anator — it’s a long story.  He’s the god of chaotic death, of random murder and of slaughter.  Obviously, he’s Chaotic Evil.  He often takes the form of a thin youth with long, black hair.  His favored weapon is the scythe, something he’s still feuding about with his half-sister, and his favored animal the elk.  Hundriss likes elk.  He’s mostly a cult figure, not really bothering with temples n’ shit.

Elleida is the goddess of undead.  She’s the daughter of Plaggan and Omora Agabai.  Somehow, two Unaligned gods spawned an Evil daughter.  Obviously a bad fruit.  Her favorite form is a diminutive, black-haired, pale-skinned woman.  Occasionally, however, she’s tall and blond.  She’s actually kind of vain, which is odd for a goddess of undead.  Her favored weapon is the mace, oddly enough the only weapon able to smash her skeletons, and her favored animal the mouse.  We don’t know why.  She’s mostly a cult figure in the Civilized Lands, but in the Wastes she’s the most important god, along with White Aretha (which totally makes sense… actually, it does.  Read the wastes posts.)

Badhis is the goddess of nature.  She’s the daughter of Zaran and Omora Agabai.  She doesn’t particularly care for people, elves, dwarves, minotaurs, or anyone.  She likes nature.  Plants.  Animals.  It’s nice.  Her favored form is a green-haired, almost-treant girl.  Her favored weapon is the stave, it being the closest weapon to nature.  She’s not commonly worshipped, but she’s a popular figure both with druids and with the youth population, who have recently begun to become hippies.  She is Unaligned.

That’s the young pantheon.  I’ll do the others tomorrow, because quite frankly my ADD is setting in and now I have to either go make Magic: The Gathering cards or funk around with a recently-pirated copy of RPG Maker XP.  Fare thee well, and look forward to the twelfth…

Alaran Organizations: The Explorer’s Society

So, we meet again, my devoted and seemingly nonexistant followers. Here’s the plan for the summer:

1) I write a few more posts. Shit like a few more organizations, some more beasts, that kind o stuff.

2) Big fucking update. Like, for srs. We are talking story advancement here. As in, fast-forward five years and see what’s changed. This is mostly ’cause I want to change some shit, and I feel like the best way to do it is through time. And since this is a fictional world I’m fucking with, time can pass with the snap of a finger. Fingers.

3) More posts. No spoilers here about what imma be posting about.

Anyway, on to the explorer’s society.

The Explorer’s Society was founded in the year 655, a date proudly proclaimed on a plaque of their official guildhall. Explorers existed before that, of course, but after 655 they had a society. That makes ’em fuckin bigwigs.

The Explorer’s Society was founded in the wake of famed explorer Hendrick Alantra. He theorized the existence of another continent, a land he called Gúlind, old common for (roughly) “the land beyond.” Technically, Old Common for “the land beyond” would be te’lind tevaera, but that sounded stupid and uselessly alliterative, so he named it Gúlind, lit. “far-land”, and told everyone that it meant “the land beyond”.

Hendrick, with nothing more than a degree in linguistics and a dream, petitioned the then-reigning King Benedict I for a grant to find Gúlind. Benedict I, old, bored, and anticipating peace, grants it. Hendrick sets off in a ship full of hired help, and isn’t seen again for three years.

And then, he appears. Full of tales of giant, dragon-like creatures that could not breathe fire. Tales of men with scales and flickering tongues. Tales of mountains spitting fire. These were originally attributed to insanity, falsity, or drunkenness, but after every man of the crew collaborated the story, it was believed. Funds poured in for a return expedition to Gúlind, and a fleet set off: the flagship Discovery (a remodeled, larger version of the previous ship), the Helena’s Grace, the Zaran’s Will, the Cloudwing, and the Mercy of the King. Much fanfare occurred, and everyone was happy.

Fastforward a few years. Benedict I dies. Benedict II takes the throne. The second imperial war begins with Argan Vas attacking Wyrmspire. People largely forget about the expedition, things like the threat of imminent death distracting them. Then, a large trunk of wood washes up on the shores of a small fishing town in the east, caught in an expanse of canvas that allowed it to be born aloft by the winds of the Cloudsea. Nothing much is thought of this, until a weathered inscription is discovered near the base of the trunk:

The Discovery
Archus Bless the King

Among the exploration-interested men of Wyrmspire, a great ruckus occurs. War? Who cares, one of ours died! After holding a large funeral pyre for those presumed lost, the educated motherfuckers found the Explorer’s Society. The broken mast of the Discovery is still displayed in the center of the guildhall.

The Explorer’s Society explores. New island found far to the east? They’re on it. Expedition to map the deadly Omarra desert? Sure. See what’ll happen if we drop a lead block off the continent? They already did that.

The Society currently is one of the most major funders of the technological city of Below. From there they launch expeditions to the center of the planet, expeditions to the Evertorn, expeditions to that island over there, or expeditions along the side of the continent to see what’ll happen. The society outpost at Below is the very definition of bustling, as there’s constantly something being launched.

On the walls of the Explorer’s Society guildhall is the most complete map of Alara thus far known to be assembled. One wall is devoted to Aulind, including the entire Civilized Lands, the entire Wastes, parts of the forest of Requiem, parts of the northern Ebenien Plains, and parts of the Omarra Desert. Another wall is devoted to Norgenar, the bittercold southern continent. Only the northern tip is mapped, and there’s no way to know how large the continent is in full. It’s mapped in extreme detail, however.

The remaining two walls are devoted to the edges of the continents: in-depth depictions of the vertical forest of the rhokari, with the territory of every tribe mapped. The nooks and crannies surrounding Below. The ice gargoyles that live on the sides of Norgenar. Everything known is mapped. It’s rather scary.

The rest of the guildhall is full of artifacts brought back from distant lands, memoirs of famous explorers, and treatises written on said memoirs by people who wish they were exploring. The back of the building is filled with exploration equipment, from machetes to lightweight clothing to iron rations.

The Explorer’s Society often doubles as a researcher’s guild of sorts. They have scriptures pertaining to basically everything in their possession, and as such, when someone important wants to know something, they go to the Explorer’s Society. If they don’t already have the information, they can quite easily be persuaded to go and get it – after all, it’ll probably involve exploring. The Explorer’s Society currently enjoys quite a large amount of funding from the Council.

Important Members of the Explorer’s Society:

Thulin Thunderboot is arguably the most famous explorer ever. He surpassed his idol, Hendrick Alantra, several years ago, after bringing back evidence of a race of horse/men hybrids from the north. Thulin has made more personal contributions to the Society than any other member in the entire history of the organization. His contributions include the aforementioned evidence of the existence of “centaurs”, his leading of an expedition into the Wastes, and his mapping of a significant portion of Requiem. Of course, he set out to map the entirety of Requiem, but gave up after getting a few hundred miles in without finding anything interesting and then being shat upon by a moose.

Thulin is a dwarf. He’s of relatively average dwarfish height, and is, indeed, by all standards of appearance, a relatively average dwarf. This is offset by his clothing, which is often a combination of white robes he got in the north, tribal leather bartered from the savages of Requiem, and a hat made of bones that he got in the Wastes, which he merely wears because it happens to be enchanted to provide a considerable bonus to one’s dexterity. He fights with a combination of bizarre weapons that he procured in various lands, but mostly enjoys the Lynoth, a northern variation on the shortspear which consists of a head a foot long and jagged.

Thulin’s current expedition is one of great ambition: to find the fabled northern land of Swelterholm and map the fuck out of it. He set off on this expedition, under great fanfare and much rejoicing, with three ships and the instructions that if they didn’t hear from him in a decade, declare him dead and have a public funeral. It’s been eight years thus far, but we’re thinking he’ll report back. We hope.

Saer Elthallow is the current guildmaster of the Explorer’s Society. He was, long ago, an explorer, but now mostly contends himself with the research side of things. He basically sits around the guildhall, eating pie and reading of whatever Thulin did recently. He has published most of Thulin’s memoirs, seeing them as educational to the public. This led to the one on the Wastes being banned, of course, as the Council doesn’t particularly want its people to know that there’s an undead threat lurking a few miles north.

Saer is a human man of about seventy, with long white hair and a heavily wrinkled face. Despite his rather dry way of occupying his time, he constantly smiles, and often reads stories to orphans on his days off. Which are really whenever he feels like reading to orphans, ’cause he’s the guildmaster, he can give himself the damn day off. It’s rumored that he was a pirate when he was younger, but these rumors are mostly ignored, probably because they don’t matter.

Of Poetry And Farewells

Yeah, that title sounds like a Dashboard Confessional song. Eat it.

Anyway, I’m going on a class trip. Leaving tomorrow. Will be back a week from monday. And yes, I know I didn’t keep to my schedule and put out another chapter of that Alara thing on tuesday, but c’mon, I had 2 reports to write, a final project, and a “Bouree in E minor” to memorize. Fucking bach.

So I leave you with poetry. These are some poems I wrote at various times, mostly during classes that I didn’t want to pay attention in. My best work is done while not paying attention.

(editor’s note: I started out numbering my poems, but I got bored so now my numbers range from “thu” to ∞. Also, one’s title was just a doodled symbol that looked kinda like a k, only with a dot instead of the upper right leg.)

Poem #q: Dragon

On a boring day in June,

I found a dragon in my laundry.

He was a small little thing,

Merely a wyrmling.

He (for I knew it to be male) looked at me.

Looked at me with sad eyes.

And I wondered,

What is this wyrmling doing,

Sitting there,


In my laundry?

One does not often find dragons in one’s laundry.

It’s quite an odd occurence,

worthy, indeed,

of a poem.

Perhaps he was trying to find other dragons.

Perhaps he was


Perhaps my laundry, being laundry, was simply a warm place to rest.

Or perhaps dragons gravitate towards laundry.

I don’t think I shall ever know, as

after that initial moment,

the dragon turned and fled.

I doubt I’ll ever see him again.


I’m bored.

Sitting here in German class, having a children’s book read to me.

Nothing to do but think.

So I think.

And dream.

Dreams of battles far away,

Dreams of seas of clouds.

Dreams of horned beasts,

of sailors,

of gods.

But I wake.

And I’m sitting in German class.

Having a children’s book read to me.


Those are the poems I feel like typing up. Feedback is welcome but not required, I already like those two poems so I don’t need external validation this time. Peace out, see you in a week and a half. I’ll probably have more poetry.

Things’ll be done MY way around here from now on!

…although, I suppose they usually are.

I’m gonna adhere to a rough schedule for a while.  Every tuesday I’ll post a chapter of that book I’m working on, and between then as filler, I’ll either post something random on Alara or post some poetry, ’cause I’ve been getting into poetry recently.  Call me a dork if you wish, I like writing poetry.  Anyway, there’ll be a slight interruption in a few weeks ’cause I’m going on a class trip for a week, but other than that I should be doing this for a while.  The reason for this schedule is to make me actually work on my writing, as opposed to just putting it off indefinitely.

Anyway, Chapter 2 is up, read it bitches.  And maybe enjoy it.  I dunno.

Chapter II





It was this decision that led him to the Hanging House.



























Corentin nodded, and sat.





The card table immediately exploded with outrage.







“I think I will.”

The two set off toward the Lucinda.

Chapter I


































“Oh, you know, here and there.”





“I shouldn’t ask, should I?”
“Probably not.”





“Will they?”

“All things are possible!”


“Couldn’t imagine what you mean,” replied Corentin uncomfortably.



























“Sentinel Watch.”

“Where in the name of Zaran is that?”





“I suppose I shall…”


















“What have you in mind?

“Yes, what, brother?”





“Are we to be helpless in this?”






Alaran History: Elves

Disclaimer: This history may be mostly fabrication up until E.F. 800, as is the human history (a discovery made by Thulin Thunderboot in A.F. 827.) The elves insist it’s true, but we don’t really pay attention to them.

The Elves of Alara have a considerably longer lifespan than the rest of the races – there are rumors of some living to see 1,000, although for most 500 or so is pretty damn venerable. As such, their history is on a rather grander scale than that of the humans. As elves are also very patient and very, very methodical, wars can last for millennia and political grudges for even longer. Thus, I give you: the history of the Elves of the Civilized Lands.

~E.F. ? – The Elves are under the whip of a mysterious race known as the Maraki, who worshiped a dark god by the name of Banaraat. It is unknown for how long the slavery lasted, as almost all records are in the language of the Maraki. The Elven records from this time use an unknown dating system, marked “Fall of Aldar”. What is known is that the Maraki empire spanned an incredibly great area, and the Elves were only one of the many races enslaved by them. The others are named by ancient Elven records, but they were named in Old Elvish, so we’ve no idea what they were.

~E.F. 18,000 – The Maraki Empire falls. Elven records indicate that this is due to an elvish uprising, but it’s more likely that the Empire fell simply due to reasons most empires fall: corruption, decadency, barbarians. Etcetera. The Elves essentially loot the corpses of their former masters, and thus ‘invent’ bronze weapons. Elves were never that good at metalworking in the first place, so they just had to steal shit.

~E.F. 17,300 – The last of the Maraki is hunted down and killed. With this, the Elves turn from a rampaging bunch of angry savages into a proud, empire-building race. The irony of this is lost on them. The Elven Empire begins. The official state religion is the Elven druidism that began during their slavery to the Maraki; though freedom of religion is also embraced. Tevarüs Brighteye, the leader of the expedition that slew the last Maraki, takes the throne.

~E.F. 15,000 – Under the rule of Hadaris Brighteye, direct descendant of Tevarüs, the Elves continue slowly but surely building their empire. In doing so, they come across roaming tribes of humans. They enslave them, ’cause they need more muscle to build the previously mentioned empire. The irony at this point is so thick that they should literally be suffocating in it.

~E.F. 11,500 – The Elven state religion, under Garatæne Brighteye, changes from the old druidic tradition to worship of a god known as Patarien Thurei. This change coencides with a massive push in elven conquest of surrounding territories.

~E.F. 10,500 – The Elven Empire reaches its greatest extent under Thælis Brighteye, covering the entirety of what is currently known as the Civilized Lands.

~E.F. 10,200 – It is discovered by a group of elves known as House Dawnsong that Patarien Thurei is in fact the same god as Banaraat, the dark god of the Maraki that had enslaved them. They use this fact to begin a rebellion among the elves. House Brighteye, currently between emperors after the death in battle of Thælis, does not do much, knowing that fighting the rising populace would lead to their destruction. This leads to some of the populace actually remaining loyal to them, as well as Patarien Thurei.

The Elven Empire splits into the two states of Narandavir and Heletül, Narandavir in the east, the current territory of Wyrmspire and Argan Vas, and worshiping Patarien Thurei, and Heletül in the west, current territory of Elenaiar and Asernaiar. In Heletül, the old druidic tradition is revived, and the human slaves released, as they consider slavery another reminder of the Maraki empire. The human tribes take up the druidic traditions of the elves, as they really have no other religion to mess with. Galegar Brighteye takes the throne of Narandavir, and Faralis Dawnsong takes the throne of Heletül.

~E.F. 9,500 – The freed human slaves unite and attack Narandavir to free their still-enslaved brethren. This does not go well for them, as the elves of Heletül, noting the violent tendencies of the humans, conveniently “forgot” to tell them how to craft bronze. So, they wage a war on Narandavir with stone and hate as weapons.

~E.F. 9,200 – After three hundred years of Narandavir basically slaughtering the humans and the elven senate of Heletül arguing over whether or not to help them, Heletül, under the rule of Gæren Dawnsong, finally steps up and begins to attack Narandavir. This begins a massive bloody war.

~E.F. 8,000 – The human slaves are all essentially freed from Narandavir. The humans, knowing a shitstorm when they see one, decide not to participate in the rest of the war, universally considered “probably a good idea”.

It should be noted, here, that elven warfare is not at all like that of humans. It’s more a constant state of dislike, occasionally interrupted by a battle or a mage going crazy and fireballing everyone. This enables wars to continue for thousands of years, far longer than human wars continue for, even accounting for the difference in lifespan.

~E.F. 6,200 – The Elves of Narandavir take a turn for the evil. The more evil, that is. They begin participating in dread rituals, blood sacrifices, and the like to summon demons and bolster their armies.

~E.F. 6,000 – Femæra Dawnsong, queen of Heletül, forges an alliance with the roaming human tribes, who have by now forgotten why there’s a war on or if they were ever involved. Together, the elves and humans begin the final assault on Narandavir.

The next millennium is spent in an elevated state of warfare. The noted elven warfare style of years previous goes out of style in favor of straight war. Entire cities are built around battlefields, leaving an odd phenomenon of twin cities being discovered thousands of years later, with one decimated due to the victories of one side. Some individual battles, including the final siege of Narandavir, last for centuries.

~E.F. 5,000 – Narandavir is felled. The city is sacked, and the now corrupt demon-elves hunted down and executed to the last.  The constant battle of the last millennium has completely decimated everyone involved.  Heletül is greatly weakened.  Nothing much differs among the human tribes, ’cause they’re just random humans and you can’t really have weakened tribes.  Doesn’t work.  Point is, Narandavir is demolished and Heletül is in a bit of shithole.

~ E.F. 3,500 – The estimated time of Heletül’s falling in two.  Not much is known, as elven records disappear randomly for about a thousand years, and when they come back again Heletül has become the twin city-states of Elenaiar and Asernaiar, Elenaiar under House Dawnsong and Asernaiar under House Galebreak.  At around this time, the focus shifts from the elves to the humans.  The elves don’t really do anything very important ever again.  They are also mostly ignored by Ulëndras and the empire of Drak’an, who seem mostly interested in humans.

~E.F. 1,300 – The Dwarven invention of iron weapons changes elven warfare for the first time in seventeen thousand years.  This vaguely shocks the elves out of complacency, as they’ve realized that, apart from overthrowing Narandavir, they haven’t actually done anything in their entire history.  They’ve added to the knowledge of magic, and have produced several hundred philosophers, but… whatever.  After this point, the elves resolve to take a more major role in the politics of the land, instead of just festering.  Both Elenaiar and Asernaiar decide this independently within several years of each other.

~E.F. 600 – The War of the Twin Spears, the Elves’ unified attempt to free the humans from their draconic overlord, Dräsilith, ends badly for the elves.  The humans, it turns out, are just fine with their overlord.  This is the bloodiest war in the entire history of the elves or humans, as the elves were surprised by the humans ability to war and the humans were surprised that the elves weren’t just forest-pansies like they always believed.

~E.F. 30 – The Elves watch in bemusement as the humans’ dragon-worshiping society completely eats itself over forty years or so.  They also watch in interest as the new gods, the pantheon of Archus, arrives from across the sea.

0 – The Archan Empire is declared.  The elves essentially sit back and think “yeah, that’s gonna work out great”.

A.F. 12-40 – Japhasath, prophet and living voice of Archus, spends thirty-eight years discussing matters of religion with the elves of Asernaiar and Elenaiar.  This is a remarkably short amount of time for an elf, but Japhasath somehow still manages to convert them from their old druidic tradition to the worship of Archus, though they take more to the worship of Omora Agabai and Rudolphus.

A.F. 55 – The Archan Empire falls.  The elves, despite having been converted to Archanites during that time, still giggle to themselves and think “I told you so.”

~A.F. 200 – The Elves maintain a vaguely cordial relationship with the Niaran Empire, by which we mean that they don’t attack them and are in turn not attacked for a few hundred years.

A.F. 598 – Darius the Mad declares war on the elves, marking the first opportunity for true elven warfare in over a thousand years.  They go mad.  Of course, this all ends when Benedict I takes the throne and reaches out to them, but they have fun in the meantime.

A.F. 652 – The Elves of Elenaiar and Asernaiar enter into the treaty of the Alliance, as dictated by Benedict I, the Wise.  Though there are still some disagreements among the allied races, as Elenaiar doesn’t really like Asernaiar, it’s reciprocated, the dwarves are annoying, and this is the first anyone except the humans has heard of the minotaurs, the Alliance generally works.

A.F. 788 – With the death of Kæran Galebreak, and through some odd incidences of intermarriage, Ambrellis Dawnsong takes the throne of Asernaiar, marking this the first time in over four thousand years that House Dawnsong has had sole control over the elves – though this does not mean that the elves are united.

A.F. 810 – The Amen-Kathar invade Asernaiar, sacking the city and leading to the exile of the elves from their homeland.  Some go to Elenaiar, some to Wyrmspire, and some to Below, but a lot remain in the general area and become the Phoenix Guard, a group of militant elves under the leadership of Ambrellis Dawnsong who will, if given the chance, return to the ancient ways of the Elven Empire.  This is generally considered a bad thing, as is a bunch of squid-things having control over a once-great city of the elves.

A.F. 823 – Present day.  Queen Ellesmera Dawnsong, a half-elf related to the house of Dargonne, presides over Elenaiar.  Asernaiar is still in shit.  Ambrellis Dawnsong is waging constant war on the Amen-Kathar, and random dwarves have begun digging up ancient elf ruins, attempting to fill in the blank areas of elven history.

Alaran Bestiary: Dragons

Dragons. Though massive, absolutely massive, and obviously reptilian in biology, they posses a similarity of movement to cats, and an intelligence far beyond that of the most ancient elf wizard. Though obviously intelligent, they are still relegated to the position of “beast” in the thinking of most prominent Alaran biologists, as thinking of them as more than creatures would both creep many the hell out and put in a rather nasty perspective the many, many dragon-purges that have occurred in the past – genocide is such an ugly word. Thus, their inclusion in the newly-formed Bestiary section, not in the Races section of years past.

Dragons have existed on Alara for gods know how long. Which is accurate – the gods probably do know, but they aren’t telling anybody. Their origins are contested: prominent religious fanatics believe they were created during the war between the Elder Gods and the Young Pantheon, though which side created them depends on the particular bias of the theorizer. Some mighty wizard-scholars argue that they were a side-effect of the genesis of the world, magic energies gone crazy and creating some equally crazy shit. The dragons themselves believe themselves to be created by their god, a divine being whom they do not name, as they consider it profanity for any to speak or even think the name.

What is known is that whatever their birth, dragons exist, and have had a profound effect on history in their time. The history of the human race is melded with that of the dragons, as they were ruled by them for several millennia. Even now, almost a thousand years after dragons were usurped as the rulers of the land, dragons commonly influence the goings-on of politics, war, and generally everything. Dragons are powerful, intelligent, and ambitious – generally, as dangerous as a creature can get.

Dragons come in two main varieties: the Greater or Noble dragons, and the Lesser, Common, or Degenerate dragons (though only called degenerate by people who don’t particularly like them, i.e., greater dragons). Lesser Dragons are not going to be covered in depth in this article. It’s generally thought that Lesser Dragons are all creations of bizarre experiments or epic spells, and that the Greater Dragons are the pure form that was originally created. It’s probably the Greater Dragons that created most of the Lesser – attempts to create more easily controlled underlings, for example. Due to this genesis, the Lesser Dragons are incredibly varied in form (anything from humanoid dragons to cat-sized dragons to dragons with two heads), though all draconic, while the Greater Dragons are more consistent.

Greater Dragons all share various physical features. They are four-legged, bear the aforementioned resemblance to cats, and winged. Most of them have some kind of horns, and they can all breath fire, though the variety and heat of said flame differs depending on species. All have some proficiency in magic, though some choose not to pursue this path. Greater Dragons all live upward of 3,000 years, though only Sand Dragons have been known to reach 4,000.

And, strangest of all, all Greater Dragons, after reaching a certain age (it’s thought puberty is the boundary) can shift into a humanoid form to go without notice among their enemies/minions/dubious allies/whoever they feel like going without notice among. This mortal form varies; some dragons shift into elves, others into humans. Very rarely some shift into dwarves or underfoot, but almost never any other race. Though the Greater Dragons can shift into humanoids, they cannot change the physical features of their humanoid form, and always appear in the same clothes. It is generally thought, by dragon-scholars, that a dragon’s humanoid form is determined by some element of its personality, and cannot actually be changed at will by the dragon. Dragons have been known to change their human forms, but it is almost always after some traumatic event or epiphany that significantly changed the dragon’s personality.

There are many species of Greater Dragon, and though they all share the physical aspects mentioned earlier, they are incredibly varied in other ways. A distinguishing feature of dragons is that their species can often be identified entirely by their name, as each type has its own naming conventions.

Mountain Dragon

The Mountain Dragons are the most prolific of the Greater Dragons. They live (duh) in the mountains, most often in caves and other lairs, but often in massive citadels or towers if they are particularly military-minded. Mountain Dragons have scales of a stormy and cynical blue, occasionally turning gray with age, and backwards-sweeping horns. They’re what most people think of when they hear the term “dragon”, as they’re average in most ways. Not too large, wings are average size, flame is normal, etcetera.

In terms of personality, Mountain Dragons are to other dragons what humans are to other humanoids. They’re equally likely to be malevolent bastards or relatively nice. Of course, they’re dragons, so they don’t go around handing out love and kisses, but they’re the species of dragon most likely to enter into alliances with humans, or, in rare cases, act as a mount, though this usually involves either a threat to the entire world or copious amounts of gold going into the Mountain Dragon’s coffers. Mountain Dragons, when shifted into humanoid form, can take any of many forms, but often appear rough and rugged, dressed as a typical adventurer.

Mountain Dragon names are usually long, and involve double letters. Examples of this would be Alagaaz and Aagnar, both Dragonkings of old.

Flame Dragon

Flame Dragons are not “usually” found anywhere, they are essentially wanderers, though they can often be found near human settlements, dwelling in deep caverns. Their scales are a bright, flamelike red, though before puberty they often tend more toward orange. Flame Dragons posses only a single horn, sprouting upwards from their nose. It would be called rhino-like, if anyone in the Civilized Lands had ever heard of rhinos. Flame Dragons are of average dragon size. A Flame Dragon has the longest and most powerful of all dragon flames: it is incredibly hot and it more like a concentrated blast of energy than a stream of flame. Merely the force of a Flame Dragon flame can topple a tower or destroy a building. And then it catches fire.

Flame Dragons are, in general, complete psychopaths. There are some exceptions, but for the majority, their goals tend toward wealth acquisition at any cost, or just rampaging based on the age-old philosophy of “screw you”. Flame Dragons are most often loners, as their insanity is not often tolerated by others, even of their own species. If one finds a Flame Dragon, even a newborn, it is probably prudent to simply slay it on sight, if possible. Though the wyrmlings are cute… it’s said that they can be raised to be innocent, but it’s challenging. Flame Dragon’s humanoid forms often have spiky red hair and glowing eyes, and often wear leather, though flame dragons are in general reluctant to shift to human form.

Flame Dragon names are short, harsh, and to the point. They also often include apostrophes, which both serve the triple purposes of heavily emphasizing the preceding syllable, performing a glottal stop, and looking really cool. Example Flame Dragon names include A’ka and Ka’ath, both Dragonkings. The reason I use Dragonking names as examples is because I am a lazy bastard, and I already had most of them written down. Fear my indolence.

Sea Dragon

On Alara, a Sea Dragon is a bit of a misnomer. They should more accurately be called water dragons, or lake dragons. Some have recently recognized this and begun calling them Storm Dragons, which is also a bit of a misnomer, as they really don’t have much to do with storms either. Sea Dragons live in large bodies of water, such as Crown Lake. They have shining blue scales, occasionally stained green in places. They have no horns, and are slightly smaller than average for dragons. Their wings are developed more to be used as flippers, and thus are smaller in size than the wings of other dragons, making them clumsy and ungainly in the air. A Sea Dragon’s flame is more like a high-pressure jet of boiling water. Sea Dragons have not been observed to flame above water, and have a maximum lifespan of about 2,500 years, shorter than those of other dragons.

Sea Dragons are the most bestial of the Greater Dragons, and there is a movement among certain high-minded Mountain Dragons to have them reclassified as Lesser Dragons. They do, however, share all physical aspects with Greater Dragons, even if they do seem to prefer hunting and survival to more common dragonly pursuits, such as wealth, maidens, or kingdoms. Sea Dragon’s humanoid forms often have long hair and wear ethereal, loose clothing, with sea-green eyes.

Sea Dragon names seem to include many u’s and the occasional th or dh. Examples include Uruth and Dhuir. There were never any Sea Dragon Dragonkings, as a Sea Dragon has never been that ambitious.

Swamp Dragon

Swamp Dragons live in swamps. They have pitch-black scales. They are smaller than average for dragons, as swamps are usually hard for great bloated lizards to navigate. The occasional exception is found in a Swamp Dragon so large that the swamp can actually grow on its back, but there doesn’t seem to be any in-between. Swamp Dragons have forward-sweeping horns. Their bodies are craggy, rough, and well-suited to life in a swamp. A Swamp Dragon’s flame is less powerful than that of other dragons, it is colder and oozes more than jetting. However, it also produces toxic smoke, which is more than likely to kill the target and everybody around him before they die from the heat.

Swamp Dragons are undoubtedly the nastiest of the dragons. They posses an insanity much akin to that of the Flame Dragons, but much more focused. Swamp Dragons gather minions, form alliances, build fortresses, amass wealth. All for the purposes of destruction. Swamp Dragons revel in destruction and decay, to make everything like their native swamps. A Swamp Dragon will decimate an entire city just to watch its ruins slowly fall apart and fill with plant like over the years. Swamp Dragon’s humanoid forms are always deadly attractive, and they always dress in black cloth.

Swamp Dragon names are cynical and short, often with harsh consonants. Examples include Kharr and Akun, the former a Dragonking.

Forest Dragon

Forest Dragons live in forests, and their scales are shiny-green. They are the smallest of the dragons, as they are often surrounded by trees that need to be navigated. They have horns bloody everywhere. Their shoulders have spikes, their heads are lined with spikes, and they have tail-spikes. They look like something akin to dragon-porcupines. Forest Dragons are the only Greater Dragons that do not posses a flame, a development designed to prevent them destroying their own homes.

Forest Dragons are pretty much bipolar by definition. They’re content to spend hours simply walking among the trees of their territory, enjoying life to the fullest, listening to the sound of brooks, smelling the flowers, watching birds. And then, suddenly, they’re aching for a fight. If nothing presents itself – a large bear will do, even – they rip up a few trees to cool off. If something does present itself, it’s screwed. Unless it’s another Forest Dragon, in which case they feed off each other’s energy and the fight escalates until they’re both left exhausted and bloodied. Forest Dragons are extremely pleasant to talk to in the first mood, and extremely unpleasant to be within a mile radius of in the second. Forest Dragon’s humanoid forms are often elven, wearing leather and an unsettlingly pleasant smile.

Forest Dragon names often include nasal sounds, such as n, m, and ng. Examples include Ungelnar and Kungeg, both Dragonkings.

Sand Dragon

Sand Dragons are larger than normal for dragons. They are not found commonly within the Civilized Lands (no deserts) but mostly in the great desert to the north. Sand Dragons have shiny, copper scales, and spend most of their time prone in the sand, contemplating. Sand Dragons have a pair of backwards-sweeping horns, much like mountain dragons. Sand Dragon flames are excessively dry and hot, though less powerful than that of the Flame Dragon.

Sand Dragons are highly contemplative philosophers. The desert lends itself to this kind of thought, so Sand Dragons will spend years appearing to be asleep – but thinking. Some of the greatest problems in the world have already been solved by Sand Dragons. Sand Dragons are a great resource, if you can find one and convince it to share its knowledge. A Sand Dragon often has a great store of riches, and will gift it to anyone who can give it a puzzle it can’t solve. Of course, giving it a puzzle it can solve often means being eaten for the interruption to whatever metaphysical thing it was currently thinking of. And it can solve most puzzles. Sand Dragon’s humanoid forms are often ancient, white-haired men or elves.

Sand Dragon names often include many s’s, and are superfluously long. Examples include Salsalarith and Rashagnasa. There have never been any Sand Dragon Dragonkings, they really don’t truck with politics.

Cloud Dragons

The denizens of the Cloudsea, Cloud Dragons are absolutely massive. They are nearly twice the size of an average Mountain Dragon – the more room to spread out in, the bigger one grows, I guess. They have no horns, and their wings are around 1.5 times the size, proportionally, in comparison to other dragons. These extra-large wings allow it to float for hours on end. A Cloud Dragon can actually sleep on the wing, if it finds a good thermal. Cloud Dragons roost on small islands in the Cloudsea, but spend most of their time in flight. Their scales are pure white, and their eyes are blue, a remarkable thing among the dragons, who mostly have green eyes. Cloud Dragon’s flames are average.

Cloud Dragons are undoubtedly the most whimsical of the dragons. They simply spend all their time flying about, enjoying life and the breeze. This does not mean a sailor has nothing to fear from a Cloud Dragon, as the dragon may decide that the ship looks like a wonderful new toy and begin to flip it about. But it’s all done with innocent intent. If one converses with a Cloud Dragon, one will find it aloof, constantly thinking about something else. Cloud Dragons are very willing to help anyone who asks, though they may forget the task halfway through. Cloud Dragon’s humanoid forms are often children or Underfoot, with a glint of massive wisdom in their eyes.

Cloud Dragon names often include a large assortment of vowels, with very few harsh consonants. Examples include Kaeala and Aegealai. A Cloud Dragon has never been a Dragonking.

Royal Dragons

Royal Dragons are now extinct, but at one point were the greatest of all dragons. Evidence suggests that they were larger than even the Cloud Dragons, with hotter flames than those of the Flame Dragons. Their horns were different for each one, but always formed what appeared to be a crown, or perhaps a halo, and were always perfectly symmetrical. It is unknown what color the Royal Dragons were, as the statues have long since lost their paint. Suggestions include shining gold, pure white, or even a bizarre mixture of colors, a tapestry of sorts.

Royal Dragons were notoriously high-minded, given to empire-building, philosophy, and generally just being obnoxiously good at whatever they tried. Interestingly enough, there are suggestions in certain ancient scrolls that Royal Dragons did not posses the dragon ability to transform into a human form, though no one knows why this would be.

Royal Dragon names are long, and include umlauts that both emphasize the vowel in question and change its pronunciation. Examples include Ulëndras (oo-LEEN-drahs) and Dräsilith (DRAY-sil-ith). Both of the above were rulers of the ancient empire of Drak’an.

(Note: Due to an ancient scripture discovered by Thulin Thunderboot, the entirety of human history has been thrown into question, and the existance of the Royal Dragon is no longer exactly a sure thing.  In fact, a lot of prominent scholars think it’s bullshit.  Terribly sorry.)

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