Category Archives: EQ1 Books

Legend of Lies

Legend of Lies

We murmur of our beginnings. We tell children bright tales. But we preach forgetfulness. And this is good, for the truth is heresy. To
remember what our god does not is folly. To remind him of his days as an explorer, his fame and place amongst the Vah Shir will only kindle his rage.

To show him the secret ledgers and testaments we have recovered from the Shissar would surely call his wrath. To tell him of his torture and rebirth through death at the hands of the Shissar must bring
our destruction. And so we must conceal the truth.

Our legends must be lies.

Source: EQ1 Book

Journal of Valdoon — Page VI


My agents tell me that there are mortals attacking the Scions and that they have managed to breach the outlying areas of my caves. Such insolence is intolerable! It won’t be long before it’s time to set my army loose upon the Scions. But first, I think it will be useful to unleash the fury on my stone beasts upon these so-called Wayfarers to see how mighty they truly are. I am certain they will run back sniveling to the light where they came from!

Journal of Valdoon — Page IV

In response to the Scions’ creations, the Trueborn council has granted me authority to go forward with a plan of immediate action. I have commenced construction of a grand army of stone beasts that will serve me. The first objective is to create a patrol to kill any Scions working on the creation of the beasts designed to kill the Trueborn. I consider this entertainment and will relish it when the time comes.

Tarton’s Wheel

In the crossing
Of the waters
Rests a ship
On its side

Drowned sailors
Swim around it
Past this ship
The Azia lies.

In the land
Of wind and snow
This stream of water
Does not flow

Below the ice
Upon dry land
The Beza rests
Held by no hand

In the Lake of Rathe
An island looms
It hides a treasure
In its womb

A stone tower
Protected sleeps
Those who guard it
Can not weep

A cauldron stews
But does not boil
Its edges rock
Not dirt or soil

Inside the cauldron
Lurks a door
The Dena lies
Some paces score

Once Trolls did live
Within these halls
Then vengeance struck
Their might did fall

A well of water
Upside down
The Ena rests
Yet does not drown

The tears of Marr
A pool do make
Two towers stand
Within this lake

In one tower
Guarded high
The Fana dreams
Of sleeping dry

Upon the mountain
Through the pass
The Tiger Roars
With eyes of glass

The Tiger sees
The waters fall
Geza is held
Under its thrall

Under this city
Upon the coast
Tunnels stretch
And secrets boast

Two dark pits
Within the ground
Fins circle Heda
Round and round

Under the Mountain
Where the sunless mass
The Blind Fish swims
With eyes of glass

The Blind Fish sees
Through azure haze
The Izah rests
Within its gaze

Upon this house
Was laid a Doom
Its owners rise
From beyond the tomb

Now sunken is
A Dwarven crest
Where the Jaka lies
But can not rest

Genesis of Fist and Tail

The Swifttail Caste, Fists and Tails of Cabilis

It was in dawning of the Sebilisian Empire that the art of fist and tail was forged. In the beginning, the pugilists of the great tribes were nothing more than warriors without weapons. Soon we would be forged into weapons.

Grandmaster Tynn was the father of our disciplines. He came to the empire from an unknown tribe. Some say he was a ronin who wandered the worlds of Norrath where he formed the basis of the city of Sebilis with no rebirth. He entered to form a caste which did not exist. He was quickly challenged by the warlords. He spoke his words and they did not listen. He knew the only way to make them understand was to challenge their finest in The Gauntlet. He called for four of the finest warlords and allowed them arms. The warlords agreed, thinking his challenge as easy task.

Grandmaster Tynn quickly dispatched of the warlords with nothing more than fist and tail. He fought in a way never displayed. His victory earned him much respect and Emperor Sathir soon commanded him to form the Court of Pain and raise an army of monks. Tynn formed the Swifttail Caste.

Soon the way of fist and tail had hundreds in it’s ranks, climbing the rungs. Tynn showed them they were not warriors, but monks.

They would don shackles as testament to the Age of Snake when the Iksar were a race enslaved. Inner strength and harmony were taught. The Swifttail were born.

The Swifttail were disbanded during the End Days. It was not till the rise of the new empire under Emperor Vekin did the caste reform. Grandmaster Glox, a former disciple of Tynn, came to New Sebilis to rebuild the Court of Pain. In honor of Tynn, all masters now drape themselves in a robe like he wore.


Bloodmoon Keep

Unfolding the Lore, Pt 6

Bloodmoon Keep was once the elven holy site known as Faygannen, Temple of the Vines. Decades ago the vampire prince Mayong Mistmoore grew worried at the proximity of the holy site to Castle Mistmoore. He sent his forces to destroy the temple and cover it in a dark curse, trapping the spirits of the slain elves in the halls of the castle. For many years the elven ghosts suffered in silence, unable to pass into the Realm of Growth and the presence of Tunare. Now, with the arrival of Ralkor Bloodmoon, the desolate spirits of Faygannen find themselves twice cursed.

Once the Prophet of Clan Crushbone, Ralkor Bloodmoon failed in a foolish coup to overthrow Emperor Crush. Bloodmoon barely escaped with his life and a small band of loyal orcs into the wilds of the Faydark. Somewhere between the Crushbone court and Faygannen, the Bloodmoon tribe was overtaken by a dark curse and infused with terrible, feral might. The Fangbreakers, a society of werewolf hunters, has begun to investigate the source of their new vigor, but have so far had little success.

Travelers say that a new race of lycanthropes stirs within Bloodmoon Keep. Ralkor may be a beast by nature, but his cunning cannot be denied and his ambition knows no limits. Given time the shadow of the Bloodmoon could overtake all of Faydwer.

Curse of the Bloodmoon

Unfolding the Lore, Pt 5

The Loping Plains occupy the central area of Faydwer. Once a healthy habitat for a large variety of Tunare’s creations, the Loping Plains has become cursed and twisted by the influence of dark powers. From the south, the dark forces of the Bloodmoon tribe creep out from Bloodmoon Keep threatening to consume the land, while the curse of an angry god pulses from the northern coast and the Hills of Shade.

Little is known about this new tribe of orcs, but they are believed to be a splinter group from the Crushbone clan led by Ralkor Bloodmoon also known as, “The Prophet”. Several rumors that these orcs are lycanthropic have drawn Norrath’s most famous werewolf hunters, the Fangbreakers, to the Plains. Larquin Fangbreaker and his band of hunters have come in hopes of whipping out this new curse before it can spread beyond the plains. An unlikely ally has also emerged from the depths of Darkhallow to combat this new curse, but their ultimate goal is as yet unknown. 

Along the north coast lies the Hills of Shade, a once lush landscape cursed by the fury of an angry goddess. Damned spirits of Humans and Elves roam through the ruins of their once beautiful cities, cursed to replay the fateful actions of their final days for eternity. The powerful energy of the curse has drawn several visitors to the hills. A holy order of paladins hopes to cleans the curse and free the damned spirits from their torment. Nearby, a conclave of necromancers hopes to harness the power of the curse and use it for their own malicious plans.

Meanwhile, in a dark crypt beneath the hills, the Soulbleeder continues to amass the power of thousands of souls and an army of undead. Soon the Soulbleeder will run out of spirits to consume in the Hills of Shade and certainly head south to begin the culling of the living.