Category Archives: Drinal

Glory to the Silver Reaper! Within his cloak all upon this mortal world, with cognizance of self, will be enveloped and delivered to Ethernere. Fear not this transition of our souls, my pack. Be you children of Serilis, Marr, Cazic, Veeshan, Bristlebane, Innoruuk, or other, you will find yourself in a locale that holds meaning. It may be where you were born, where you lived, where you died, where you met your lover, at your ancestral den, or for those that champion for the downtrodden – where you are needed. From there you may travel through Ethernere, as you wish. Be warned though! If you fight this transition, if you cling to your life within crude flesh, you will suffer within the Reaper’s realm. Denial will place blinders upon you, and raging against it will surely drive you mad. But those that are hearty and hold the desire to venture, are not chained to any particular location within Ethernere.

* Priestess of the Silver Reaper

The Enemy Within

It is curious that this tale has captured me so. It may be due to the nature of the story and my appreciation of tratorous tales, but something stronger seems to keep calling me back. I should try to investigate more about Sentry Selena.

Sir, the full account of the night in question is included in this report, but I must put the acts of that fateful night within context. Selena’s previously impeccable service record demands it.

~Sentry Bartle

Sentry Selena had been a high knight within the Sentries of Passion, stationed her, at Freeport’s Temple of Marr, for years. Sentry Calum was one of the Sentries of Passion under her.

Two weeks before Lover’ Moon, an attack was run upon our mighty temple by the followers of Hate. It was a swift and, I must admit, well exectued attack that could have been devastating to the Temple of Marr, had it not been for the heroic act of Sentry Calum.

As Sentry Calum recalled later, “I had just struck down one venomous attacker, when I caught the sight of a spell blast heading directly for Sentry Selena. She was entwined with an attacker herself, and could not see the spell that was fast approaching her. I flung myself at the spell without a second though.”

Sentry Selena had supported this tale, claiming, “I turned and saw Sentry Calum take the brunt of the spell. Behind him a Priestess of Hate had then appeared. Casting the spell must have interrupted her invisibility spell. If it were not for his courageous act, I would surely have fallen to the Priestess of Hate.”

She went on to say, “I knew not if he had been taken by Drinal or if he was just unconscious, but his heroic act inspired me. I was renewed and fought with an unbridled passion from that moment. The tides of the battle were quickly turned. He is to be commended.”

But, of course, now one has to wonder if she was not hit by it or affected by it in some way. It was never established what type of spell it was that Sentry Calum intercepted. What we do know is that, although Calum showed no sign of life, we woke refreshed and fully healed, as if he had been simply napping.

He told all, “I had felt the spell burn and wrench my body with searing pain, and then darkness swallowed me up. I know not how long it lasted, but it was broken by a vision. In it, a woman of unequalled beauty and grace enveloped me in her lifht and laid a kiss upon my forehead. Her voice was like a song, but I can not recall the words she spoke.”

An unusual agitation was noted within Sentry Selena upon the times that she overheard Calum recalling his tale to fellow knights or the initiates within the temple. Most dismissed it as a show of her discomfort at being reminded of the unfortunate attack, but now we must bring this into question.

Then, upon the night of the Lover’s Moon, as the temple was in the height of celebration with much wine and song, Selena and Calum both excused themselves. They were both fully aware that a tryst would violate their vows of dedication to the Holy Siblings, but evidence collected from within her private quarters leads us to conclude such an act occurred.

It was during the dead of night, while most of the temple’s occupants, guards, priests, and pilgrim celebrates alike, were sleeping away the effects of heavy libation and revelry that the guards on duty later reported having heard a sudden cry within the temple. I can attest to this, as I heard it with my own ears.

It was the cry of ultimate suffering! The sudden sound of anguish carried far upon the still night air and the halls of the temple reverberated with the pain in that single scream. Those of us on guard set out to find the source of the cry, but we were finding it difficult, due to the echoing effect.

A young pilgrim man, celebrating his first Lover’s Moon with another, awoke from his slumber in one of the upper floor alcoves. He was about to dismiss the cry as a trick of his ears or that of a fellow reveler when he spotted a woman on the main floor in the sentry guard armor approach the temple’s grand shrine to the Goddess of Love.

She laid an object upon the shrine, but he could not make it out, as her position blocked it from his view. He then heard her say, “He is now all yours, Erollisi!” As she stepped away, he was able to identify the object – it was a man’s head!

But the pilgrim must not have been the sole witness, as a male sentry attacker her from the side. He was later identified as Sentry Plossen, another knight on duty that fateful night. She cut the attacking guard down quickly, the violence of which frightened the pilgrim fiercely. He froze, stricken with fear and shock, as he watcher her walk from the shrine, laughing and taking pleasure as she cut through every guard she encountered.

The trail of bodies she left was shocking, even to the most seasoned.

In Sentry Selena’s quarters, a grisly scene awaited our discovery. Sentry Calum had been stabbed repeatedly through the heart and his decapitated body left disrobed and discarded on the floor, framed in a heart drawn with his own blood, his head resting amongst the offerings upon Love’s grand shrine, defiling it.

Sentry Selena has not been seen or heard from since that night.

I have full confidence that, if anyone, a contingent of your Knights of Truth will be able to pick up her trail and deal with her in the appropriate means.

May the Holy Twins bless you.
~Sentry Bartle

Ollg’s Memoirs

I heard the sky crack. I felt the ground shake. I smelled the scent of charred metal. We all did. As I watched it streak across the sky, I knew what it was. We all did. Some rejoiced immediately, some stood in awe, some tried to run after it. I stared in disbelief. Whatever the reason, he did not belong here.
I tried to speak with the general. He will not listen. I’ve heard the talk about the Warlord coming to conquer Ethernere, but I can’t help but wonder why. He has his own war fields. He has his own perpetual battles to watch. Ethernere is not the domain of war, in spite of how many might come here as a result of it.

There is something wrong. The very air feels different. There is something terribly wrong, but no one sees it. I talked to some others, and they believe it to be the coming of war. They believe that Drinal is tightening up his forces to keep Rallos at bay. Yes we have not seen our Warlord. He has not emerged from the sea. I do not believe he is here to conquer.
The Horde sits just outside the shore, seemingly unable to cross onto the land. The others believe that they are too afraid, but I do not see fear in their movements. I see an impatient waiting. They are waiting for something, although I cannot say what that might be. It is clear, though, that if they had their way, they would be attacking Oggok.

I have thought about the Warlord’s arrival at length. I believe his coming here was not his choice. To admit this, however, is to admit something far graver – that the Warlord has fallen, and has fallen for good. Even thinking that defies everything I believe and have believed my entire life. But I must admit what I see with my own eyes. The Warlord has been defeated.
I have made enemies. No one wants to hear what I have to say. Every day they make more weapons, more banners. They are ready to march in the name of War. Why can’t they see, Ethernere already suffers. I can’t explain why or how, but I can feel it I believe that is why the Horde masses at the shores, why Ethernere seems to be at unease. They will not listen, and they will make matters worse.

They are coming for me. I don’t know what they are planning. But I will not flee. I will make a final attempt to make them see reason, but it will fail. I will stand before them, and try to fend off the inevitable. I fear that nothing can stop what has been set in motion. I pray I am wrong.

My Journey to Harrow’s End

They who have heard of the Unkempt Druid, think us nothing but zealots, but their ignorance transcends the planes, even in Ethernere, our new home, forever under the shade of the Lord of Graves.The worst of them is Wegadas, for he is their leader, their father. I will follow him closely as he spews his drivel to those who would call themselves the Augurs of her. They must see the light in death. The ways of the Unkempt Warders has no place here. I will see to it.

Cardin Ward is upon us. These Wayward act comfortable within its walls, but I see the worry in their faces. Drinal’s Harrowing Horde has been released upon them, as was required. Ethernere is becoming overcrowded with this Wayward plague who must be eradicated.Wegadas has promised them protection. I laugh as they fall for his ranting, as though his Writ of the Wild and Tunare can protect them from Drinal. Do they not see? They are bound within Ethernere! If they would accept that fact, accept Drinal, then he would embrace them, and call back the Horde.

I know where I stand. The Harrowing Horde do not frighten me. They pass me by and feast only upon their intended prey. I have shown this to the Wayward in Cardin Ward, particularly those who now follow Wegadas. Most are blind, but to a few I have proved that to follow Wegadas is to follow a life of a runaway. A nomad with no home, not even a temporary one.Even camped outside the safety of Cardin Ward they cannot feel safe. My section of camp has not lost a single among us. The Augurs of Ulter, both those that recently converted and Wegadas’s original followers, have taken notice. They will soon choose right from wrong. And when they do, I will accept them.

My followers grow while the number of Augurs wane. Wegadas is beginning to feel threatened by my presence, fueled by the ever-increasing threat of the Harrowing Horde. Now a new threat, at least to the Augurs, is upon them. The Gehein have emerged. I have heard of their kind. Those who volunteered their souls for the Horde.It is a calling similar to mine own, but Drinal will see that unlike the Gehein, I seek to spread his will to others through my teachings of the Unkempt Druids. I have continued to update this philosophy, molded it to Ethernere, to death and chaos.

When we reached the camp of Wayward erudites, Wegadas fell sick. It was a turning point for many of his followers. Through our journey, so many of them were taken by the Harrowing Horde, yet none had that followed my path of the Unkempt Druids.And now they see their leader sick and nearly dying. We have all eaten the same foods, drank from the same waters, yet he is the only one. It must be Drinal. He is watching. He has sensed a blasphemer in his realm and has punished this would-be prophet!

The erudite have cared for him. In their battles with the Gehein and their pathetic attempt to restore the Ulteran spires, they somehow brought Wegadas back to health. I had hoped his remaining disciples would see him succumb to an illness no one else among us acquire. I !mow that Wegadas cannot truly die in Ethernere…or can he? I have heard a man in camp speaking to others about his visit within the walls of Harrow’s End. I confronted this Augur of Ulter.Indeed, he claims. He has been to see Drinal himself. With great need the path became clear to him. That is how he entered. One-for-one he says. A deal for a deal. That is how he was able to leave. Those that choose a deal for no deal are chained within Harrow’s End for an eternity. I will speak with this man further about this. I wish to speak with my god personally.

I now lead these people. Wegadas has been left a follower himself, along with but a dozen or so that still cling to his side. He should see his cause is lost, yet he clings to us. For safety, for the hope to bring us all back to the ways of the Unkempt Warders, I do not know, nor do I care.I should just destroy him. Be rid of this pestilence from our presence once and for all, but I have decided to show him what it means to be an Unkempt Druid. He will soon be converted, and the last of the Augurs of Ulter will be wiped from Ethernere forever.

I can feel my god’s call. I am ashamed to admit, but I was deaf and blind to it. I was obsessed with simply following Wegadas, and bringing his followers to their knees before me. But now that I have taken the lead, what felt like an aimless trek has turned into a pilgrimage.I have learned all that I needed from the man who claims to have seen Drinal himself. He knows these ways. We are indeed getting closer to the Silver Reaper’s home. Soon I will be at its doorsteps. Soon I will be at Drinal’s feet, and he will hear the words of the Unkempt Druids.

I can see the tips of Harrow’s End from where I stand, on the outskirts of this camp of lujiens. They have already killed three of us. Their souls have not returned, so I do not know where they have reformed. If they are true followers of my ways, they will find it safely to the Dreary Coast. Our final destination before I enter Harrow’s End. But first, these lujiens and their camp must be passed. Wegadas speaks of them highly, at least about the lujien he shared the Valley of the Dawn with in his mortal life.He nearly lost his own head to them, thinking these few would know his name. They are dangerous, yes, but I have a great respect for these lujien. They are said to be mirror images of Drinal, perhaps even his own creations. They are wholly, even blindly, devoted to Drinal. So much so that they only allow a select to enter their sanctuary. I would follow them myself, but I have a greater calling. A calling to lead.

We have arrived on the outskirts of my god’s home! The Whittled Woodlot is surrounded by lush cypress trees and beautiful, serene ponds. I have decided to live out the rest of my days here in the shadow of Harrow’s End, near the dock which once was used to shepherd souls to their gods’ realms.Those days are over, though, for Drinal is the one true god, and Ethernere is the one true plane. I shall remain here, awaiting Wayward who would think to leave, and introduce to them the ways of the Unkempt Druids. We shall destroy the non-believers! We will use their souls as nourishment for the land!

Priestess of the Silver Reaper

Glory to the Silver Reaper! Within his cloak all upon this mortal world, with cognizance of self, will be enveloped and delivered to Ethernere. Fear not this transition of our souls, my pack. Be you children of Serilis, Marr, Cazic, Veeshan, Bristlebane, Innoruuk, or other, you will find yourself in a locale that holds meaning. It may be where you were born, where you lived, where you died, where you met your lover, at your ancestral den, or for those that champion for the downtrodden – where you are needed. From there you may travel through Ethernere, as you wish. Be warned though! If you fight this transition, if you cling to your life within crude flesh, you will suffer within the Reaper’s realm. Denial will place blinders upon you, and raging against it will surely drive you mad. But those that are hearty and hold the desire to venture, are not chained to any particular location within Ethernere.

* Priestess of the Silver Reaper

Lycanthropes and Their Kin

The Lycanthropes

Lycanthropes are the result of spiritual rituals and pacts made by the Lujien (wolfmen) and Gihjna (bearmen) with the ancient elven druid Wegadas. According to druidic folklore, Wegadas’ ties to both Tunare and the spirit deities of the Unkempt, and his pact with the Lujien and Gihjna, made it possible for his children to survive the rites of transformation that changed them into the fathers of lycanthropy.

Lycanthropes are generally referred to as werewolves, werebears, wererats, werelions, etc. Such classifications depend on which strain of lycanthropy they possess.

Wegadas made his pact with the Lujien and Gihjna before the fall of Takish’Hiz when the humans were still little more than barbaric tribes. He agreed to sire and give his two unborn children to be raised by the Lycanthropes. The children underwent a ritual in the Valley of the Dawn, the most sacred of Lujien and Gihjna locations. In the Valley of the Dawn, the children’s mortal spirits were taken from them.

They would become Levandius the Wolf Father, and Dorandas the Bear Father.

These were only two of Wegadas’s children. He had fathered over a dozen children throughout the centuries. Unlike Levandius and Dorandas, most of his other children lived out their lives as Unkempt, content to be common tribesmen.

The Werewolves

Wegadas’ first born, Levandius, was to be handed over to the Lujien and was gifted by the spirit of Drinal, the spirit deity of night, destruction, and death. He would serve as a link between the humans and demi-humans of the Unkempt Forest as well as the Lujien. Levandius could change his shape at will from his half-elven birth form to that of a Lujien.

For centuries Levandius had lived within the Unkempt Forest and fought fiercely against those who trespassed into the sacred woods, or threatened the tribesmen he was sworn to defend. As a result, his blood mixed occasionally with those he fought and the “curse” of lycanthropy spread. Although Levandius tried to hunt down and kill these offspring, some would escape and flee to other regions of Tunaria, where they would they would either be killed, or (for a lucky few) create packs of their own.

As the plainsmen of The Great Karana Plains and coastal regions south of the Unkempt made social and technological advancements, excursions into the Unkempt woods became more frequent. For protection against these intruders, Levandius began bestowing his lycanthropic gift upon the most skilled and trusted of the human and half-elven Unkempt tribesmen. These werewolves, trained and ruled over by Levandius, became warriors known as the Night Reapers and adopted the standard of the silver crescent on a black circle, the sacred symbol of Drinal the Silver Reaper.

The barbarians of the north still fear the Unkempt woods, and believe their forefathers’ tales of the wolfmen of the Unkempt. The humans of Qeynos and its outlying villages still tell similar folktales passed down from their less civilized ages, but many pass them off as legend and primitive superstitions.

(EQoA) Present:
The Night Reapers: In the Unkempt woods, Wegadas is passing away and his heirs are at war for leadership of the Unkempt. Levandius’ original Night Reapers numbered around a dozen members each with several human and half-elven Unkempt followers. With the death of Wegadas looming, the Night Reapers are watching the borders of the Unkempt Woods closer than ever and are selectively increasing their numbers. The Night Reapers, like the Unkempt and the Lujien are fervent worshipers of Drinal the Silver Reaper. Viewing their lycanthropy as a great gift and honor, they seek and destroy independent werewolves deemed unworthy of their willing or unwilling gift.

Castle Lightwolf: Elsewhere in Tunaria, small independent packs of werewolves have been established. The most prominent and closest to the Unkempt Woods are the Lightwolf pack of Castle Lightwolf. For three generations, the lords of Castle Lightwolf have struggled to keep their lycanthropy a secret from all but their most trusted advisors and soldiers, while secretly governing their packs. The Lightwolf pack is one of the few independent packs that Levandius does not actively seek to destroy. In fact, due to the impending demise of Wegadas, the invasions from human trespassers from the south and the barbarians from the north, Levandius uses Count Lightwolf and his pack to help defend the outskirts of the northern Unkempt Woods.

Lone Wolves and Wolfweres: Perhaps due to the violent natures and tendencies of the werewolves, lupine lycanthropy has become amongst the most widespread strain of lycanthropy. Individuals infected with lupine lycanthropy typically do not survive for long unless they either learn to live in the wild, or learn how to hide their lycanthropy amongst common folk. Wolfweres, the most common of all lycanthropes, are incapable of controlling their violent tendencies and have no human form. They either resemble large wolves, or Lujien, and they rarely change from one to the other. When the moon of Drinal is full, the wolfweres all shift into their Lujien form and go on a bloodthirsty hunt from dusk until dawn. Wolfweres with violent tendencies and weak wills often shift into Lujien form involuntarily and hunt on these nights as well.

These lone wolves and wolfweres are responsible for most werewolf attacks and the resulting legends amongst the civilized races outside of the Unkempt Woods.

The Werebears

Wegadas’ second born, Dorandas, was to be handed over to the Gihjna and was gifted by the spirit of Ehayae, Matron of the Dawn and spirit deity of birth, rebirth, and creation. He would serve as a link between the humans and demi-humans of the Unkempt Forest and the Gihjna. And he would be able to change his shape from his half-elven birth form to that of a Gihjna at will.

Like his father Wegadas and brother Levandius, Dorandas was bound by his father’s pact to the Lujien and Gihjna to remain in the Unkempt Woods as a servant of the Gihjna and a leader of the Unkempt tribesmen.

Dorandas learned from the Gihjna the sacred rites and rituals of Ehayae, the Matron of the Dawn, and passed them on to the shaman of the human Unkempt tribes who regard Dorandas as their most sacred and eldest shaman.

Over the years, Dorandas has passed his gift of lycanthropy to the most respected and powerful human and half-elven shaman of the Unkempt tribes. These werebears, trained and lead by Dorandas, became known as the Wards of Dawn and adopted the standard of a golden half circle on black representing the rising and setting sun.

Although fierce when forced into battle, the werebears of the Wards of Dawn served the human Unkempt tribes primarily as spiritual guides and healers; thus, few werebears have ever existed beyond the boundaries of the Unkempt Woods.

The few werebears that resulted from barbarian or civilized human campaigns into the Unkempt woods often continued to live their lives more or less as they had before becoming lycanthropes. This group had much greater control over their lycanthropic abilities than the werewolves. Some werebears, especially those of barbarian origin, have even become heroic figures amongst their native cultures and may be responsible for the barbarian shamans’ highly developed affinity with bears and their ability to assume the form of a bear.

(EQoA) Present:
The Wards of Dawn: The Wards of Dawn acknowledge the passing of Wegadas as the death of the current age and the dawn of a new one. While the Night Reapers continue to defend the Unkempt Woods from invaders, the Wards of Dawn struggle to maintain the ancient tribal rites and beliefs of the Gihjna and the human Unkempt tribes. The Wards of Dawn fear that Levandius and his Night Reapers will attempt to assume absolute control of the Unkempt when Wegadas passes away and that the Night Reapers’ violent nature is better suited to their current role than the role of leaders of the Unkempt. The Wards of Dawn guard the fading Wegadas intently and are struggling to delay the time of his passing.

The Werebear Witchking: The Witchking was once a tribesman of the Unkempt. He was infected with lycanthropy while tending to a wounded bear. Fearing he would be slain by The Wards of Dawn or The Night Reapers for being an unintended recipient of lycanthropy, the Witchking fled the tribe. He went to a remote region of the Unkempt Woods where he gathered other independent werecreatures and created a loyal following of lycanthropes. The Witchking has become intent on overthrowing Levandius and Dorandas and assuming control of the Unkempt once Wegadas has passed.

Lost Cubs and Bearweres: Although few werebears existed south of the Unkempt Woods, ursine lycanthropy was the second only to lupine lycanthropy amongst the barbarian tribes of the North. The great Anu warrior, Ungar Glacierfist was rumored to be a werebear. Myths of barbarian figures possessing the strength and wisdom of a bear are not uncommon amongst barbarian folk tales.

Bearweres, like wolfweres, can only assume their natural bear form or the form of a Gihjna. Like the wolfweres, they possess only animal intelligence. Bearweres are often created by werebears as guardian companions, but are watched closely so as not to spread the lycanthropy to families of wild bears. Still, sightings of bearweres occur as far away as the Commonlands and the mountains of Odus. Bearweres aren’t easily recognizable from normal bears aside from the fact that they tend to assume their Gihjna form at dusk and dawn, and can be seen standing or walking upright.

The Werelions

Another of Wegadas’ sons, Corindas, lived his childhood years as a half-elf child in the care of the Unkempt Druids. Wegadas had already fulfilled his pact with the Lujien and Gihjna, thus Corindas did not undergo the spiritual transformation at the Valley of the Dawn like his older siblings. Since Corindas was not bound by the pact that restricted his parents and two eldest siblings from leaving the Unkempt Forest, he was able to travel south to the Plains of Karana during his adolescence. He worked there with the local human druids in Surefall Glade and the villages surrounding the still young city of Qeynos.

During the course of his work with the early farmers in the Plains of Karana, Corindas first encountered the lionmen (called “Kejrahn” in their own tongue). Having been raised amongst the Lujien and Gihjna, Corindas did not share the fears and prejudices that most human settlers of the Karanas held towards the lionmen who were responsible for the deaths of many human hunters.

These hunters had preyed upon the lions of the Karana Plains since before the rise of the human cities and modern agriculture.

Seeking to end the bloodshed between the Kejrahn and the human settlers of the plains, Corindas sought and obtained acceptance amongst the lionmen, and shared with their leader the tale of his family and their relationship with the spirits and the Lujien and Gihjna.

For several years Corindas lived amongst the Kejrahn and fought by their side against the poachers and hunters that preyed on the lions of the plains. He also fought against the Kejrahn’s mortal enemies, the gnolls. In a battle with the Sabretooth gnoll clan, Corindas was mortally wounded and taken to the Kejrahn’s most skilled shaman. At the Kejrahns’ most sacred shrine, the great savage spirit, Sateb Mahlni, visited Corindas and healed his wounds. Because of his family’s pact with Sateb Mahlni’s fellow spirit deities, Drinal and Ehayae, Corindas was not only allowed to live, but he was gifted with a power not-unlike those of his eldest siblings.

Corindas became the great werelion savior of the Kejrahn, the best hope for peace between the humans and the Kejrahn of the Karana Plains. Other werelions came into existence over time. Most served Corindas and the Kejrahn. Others escaped into the wild to find their own place in the world. Corindas and his loyal werelions became known as The Sun Manes. Tales of the were-lions were told of them both by fearful humans and by the reverent Kejrahn.

Unfortunately, Corindas would ultimately fail to save the Kejrahn from extinction. The noble lion lycanthropes would be the first to die out.

(EQoA) Present:
The Sun Manes: Corindas and his handful of Sun Manes live amongst what remains of the dwindling Kejrahn catmen. Many of the Kejrahn have already fled their ancestral Tunarian homeland for the lands of their cousins, The Kerran, on Odus. Corindas has received word of the events occurring in the Unkempt Woods and is saddened by his father’s untimely passing, yet has no interest in involving himself in the politics of the Unkempt or attempting to claim his rights as an heir of Wegadas. Corindas has found his own place and calling in the vast Plains of Karana. With his Sun Manes, Corindas has his own struggle to be fought against the encroaching poachers and agriculturists, and expanding human cities that are disrupting the Unkempt’s natural cycle of life.

The Stray and The Lionweres: Few werelions exist outside of the Plains of Karana; and most never encounter another species of lycanthrope. Werelions have been known, in fact, to hunt down and kill any werewolves, wolfweres, bearweres, or ratweres encountered in the Plains of Karana. Werebears are virtually unheard of, and the wererats residing in Qeynos rarely venture into the plains and tend to stick to the human roads.

The Sun Manes refer to the few werelions that exist outside of their pride as “The Stray”. The majority of The Stray were once hunters or poachers that survived a battle with a lionwere and, as a result, contracted feline lycanthropy. Like the Sun Manes, The Stray prefer to hunt during the daylight hours when their keen eyesight can see for miles across the plains. However, the werelions’ night vision is keener than even the lupine lycanthropes, and they have no problems hunting under the cover of night when need be.

There are rumors of an Erudite pride of strays on Odus, their matriarch having originally been from Highbourne and infected at an early age by an encounter with a lionwere.

Lionweres are both respected and feared by the Kejrahn. Attempts to tame the lionweres have been unsuccessful; thus, they are usually killed as painlessly as possible by the Kejrahn or The Sun Manes when discovered.

Reports of lionweres have come from as far as the Commonlands of eastern Tunaria and the grasslands of Odus.

The Wererats

Another of Wegadas’ sons, Yindrius, was abducted shortly after his birth; not an easy task for the abductors considering how closely guarded the children of Wegadas were by the Lujien and Gihjna.

However, the abductors were the Ratonga, masters of stealth and deception. A Ratonga spy living beneath Qeynos had learned of Corindas years before Yindrius birth and had agents watching the Unkempt Druids for an opportunity to steal one of Wegadas’ offspring and learn of the spirit deities and rituals called upon for the offsprings’ spiritual and physical tranformation into a werecreature.

The Ratonga succeeded. Their most powerful magic-wielders called upon their deity Caertex and convinced him to bestow upon Yindrius powers similar to his brothers. He was given the ability to change into the form of the ratman; and was charged with creating a network of wererats that would infest the surface cities, provide information to the Ratonga, and manipulate the surface civilizations to their favor.

Unfortunately the Ratonga vanished into the Underfoot from which they came not long after Yindrius established his network of spies dubbed the Topi di Ombra. The wererats became servants of Yindrius and forgot about their former masters.

Yindrius lost all recollection or knowledge of his family or the affairs of the other lycanthropes.

(EQoA) Present:
Topi di Ombra: The Topi di Ombra have evolved into a powerful family of wererats led by Yindrius. Their members are located primarily in Qeynos, Neriak, Freeport, and several outlying villages. The Topi Di Ombra also have a minor presence amongst the dwarves and gnomes in Moradhim and Klik’Anon. The Topi di Ombra survives and prospers through smuggling, stealing, racketeering, extortion, assassination, and other such illicit activities. New Topi di Ombra can only be “made” with the permission of a gang boss, which is typically the most powerful wererat in the city working directly under Yindrius himself.

The Orphans and The Ratweres: Even though rodent lycanthropy has existed for a much shorter period of time than lupine lycanthropy it has become the most widespread of all the lycanthropic strains. The vast majority of the rodent lycanthropes are ratweres, which wind up greatly outnumbering any other species of feral lycanthrope. The Topi di Ombra typically destroys ratweres whenever they are discovered; for they’re responsible for the majority of the independent wererats.

When orphan wererats are found by the Topi di Ombra, they are offered a chance to join the family. If they refuse, they are executed. This practice of killing orphan wererats leads to rivalries between the Topi di Ombra and families of orphan wererats. There are rumors of one such orphan family of dwarven and gnomish wererats operating out of the northeastern mountains of Tunaria between Moradhim and Klik’Anon. Other rumors have reached the Topi di Ombra about a family of Teir’Dal wererats operating out of the Desert of Ro.

The Feral Lycanthropes

Feral Lycanthropes are animals that have been infected with lycanthropy. Feral Lycanthropes can assume their natural animal form and their bestial humanoid were-form. Feral lycanthropes retain their animal intelligence and instincts, and thus they are responsible for much of the fear and horror stories about lycanthropes with an uncontrollable thirst for blood and violence.

Feral lycanthropes are generally hunted and destroyed by the humanoid lycanthropes but it is not unheard of for a humanoid lycanthrope to intentionally create feral lycanthropes as guardians or servants.

Feral lycanthropes are generally referred to as wolfweres, bearweres, lionweres, ratweres, etc, based on which species of lycanthrope they are descended from.


“Immortals The immortals who can be spoken of are not the eternal immortals. Their spoken names are not their eternal names. In namelessness they are the beginning of heaven and earth. Named they are one with the ten thousand things. Though different in title they spring from one source and appear as darkness. Darkness within darkness. The gate to their mystery. The immortals do not go forth All comes to them. They are like the ocean, the king of ten thousand streams. By staying beneath they are a receptacle for all things. They do nothing. Yet are masters of the universe. Trorsmang! Be our course of action. Anbeal! Become the vessel to hold our virtue. Drinal! Be our stability, where we can take root. Cordan! Fill our vessel and calm our ambitions. Norrath! Take our husks and breathe life into them. We beseech you! Guide us in your humility.”

The Spirit Deities

Several  powerful divine spirits  are worshiped  similarly to deities by Norrath’s more primitive. They are different than  the deities of Power,  Influence, and Nature as  they  do  not exist  to  rule or be ruled by a plane of  existence nor are they tied to mortal beliefs. They are divine creatures imbued in the physical and spiritual world of Norrath  itself. Shamans and beast-lords, especially agnostic  ones,  draw their power from and  form bonds with the spirits  of animals and nature. These spirit deities  are the most powerful examples of such spirits.

Drinal, The  Silver  Reaper

Very  few beings know of The  Silver Reaper,  associated with  the gray moon seen from Norrath on  all nights – Drinal. This moon was named after the spirit  deity of night, destruction,  and death by a humanoid tribe of nomads before the era of great cities and civilizations. Drinal, although  representing  that which  is dark,  is a neutral deity who represents  the necessary end of  the cycle of life. He does not maintain his watch over death out of malevolence,  but out of the necessity for it to occur  in order to  fulfill  the cycle of  life. His Lujien followers personify Drinal as an upright white wolf whose paws,  tail,  and maw are midnight  black. It  is  said that Drinal wields a  silver sickle,  the  symbol  of the  crescent moon that is most sacred to Drinal and his bestial worshipers.

Ehayae,  Matron of The Baton

Very few beings know of Ehayae and even fewer pay homage to her in reverence and worship. To those that do know this name and follow her guidance, she is the deity that maintains the cycle of birth, rebirth, and creation and is strongly tied to Drinal, who completes this cycle. The dawn and twilight are symbols associated with this goddess and are hours that her worshippers revere as sacred. Ehayae, although representing that which is considered to be good by many of the races of Norrath, is indeed a neutral goddess. Her neutrality comes in that she does not maintain her half of the cycle of life out of benevolence, but out of necessity. Her Gihjna followers personify Ehayae as a golden-skinned humanoid female bearing the face and head of an ivory-beaked hawk and golden wings in place of arms. She is often depicted as holding a halfcircle at the tips of her wings in representation of the rising and setting sun.

Sahteb Mahlni, The Feral Spirit

Sahteb Mahlni is the most powerful of the known animal spirits and is believed to be the embodiment and source of animal instincts. Followers of Sahteb Mahlni are exclusively Vah Shir who believe true wisdom and power come from understanding and controlling the primal inner spirit within all living creatures. The opposites of life and death, predator and prey, and physical and spiritual are the primal balances of existence, and upon death all things return to a spiritual state until reborn into the new flesh. Only through praise, reverence, and devotion to Sahteb Mahlni – the greatest of the ancestor spirits and the balance of life and death – can enlightenment be achieved. Vah Shir of all dispositions, from the peaceful contemplative shaman to the fierce, bloodthirsty beastlord hear the calling of Sahteb Mahlni. As an embodiment of the primal balance, Sahteb Mahlni is neutral. When the Feral Spirit is described in the physical form, it is as an ever-changing composite creature made from all Norrath’s animals.

The Tragic Tale of Slezaf

The Tragic Tale of Slezaf and the Maestro’s Symphony
As told by Ashe Boderra of the Everlasting Quill

Long ago, in the days when both Drinal and Luclin graced our night sky, a bard of little renown, and even less patience, stumbled across a symphony penned by an individual known only as ‘the Maestro.’ This bard was known as Slezaf, and this is his tale.

Now, nowhere in the furthest corners of his mind could Slezaf recall anything about this composer; it was obvious, however, that he must have been a master, because the quality of the music was without parallel.

The melody was capable of evoking deep feelings within anyone who heard it. Granted, this is the goal of any great piece, but the Maestro’s symphony evoked feelings such that the listeners had never felt before, and in measures they didn’t think possible.

Now, the only hitch in all of this is that the songbook was missing a few pages, and Slezaf knew the music could only reach its full potency if he could complete it. Being an accomplished adventurer, he managed to track the rest down. How and why is not the meat of this tale… No, what is truly important is what happened when he finally put it together.

Slezaf performed his symphony for a group composed of many great leaders, artists, adventurers, and other famous sorts. Word had spread, you see, of the piece’s power, and everyone wanted to be the first to hear it. Survivors later described the experience as if from a deep fog, remembering only snatches and fleeting traces of emotion.

Yes, survivors. You see, when the Slezaf launched into the symphony, the crowd began to turn wild. Some individuals fell into deep despair, crying and screaming and tearing at their hair. Others were driven to uncontrollable rage, going so far as to tear apart those sitting around them with their bear hands.

Slezaf was as surprised as anyone else at the results. He had no idea how much his audience would be overtaken! Some say that out of guilt, or maybe by the lasting influence of the song, he threw himself on the rocks of Kunark. Others say he was murdered by the shattered survivors. One thing, however, is certain. Slezaf died, and with his death, the symphony vanished.


The immortals who can be  spoken of are not the eternal immortals. Their spoken names are not  their eternal names. In namelessness they are the  beginning of heaven and  earth. Named they are one with the  ten thousand things. Though different in title  they spring from one source  and appear as darkness. Darkness within darkness. The gate to their mystery.  The immortals do not go forth All comes to them. They are like the ocean, the  king of ten thousand streams. By staying beneath they are a  receptacle for all things. They do nothing. Yet are masters of the  universe.  Trorsmang! Be our course of  action. Anbeal! Become the vessel to  hold our virtue. Drinal! Be our stability,  where we can take root. Cordan! Fill our vessel and  calm our ambitions. Norrath! Take our husks and  breathe life into them. We beseech you! Guide us in your humility.