Category Archives: The First Gate

Leatherfoot Tales: The Last of the Teir’Dal, Part Two

The Houndslayer and his comrades make their way through Nektulos Forest, encountering something unexpected.
The Kithicor rangers, the Leatherfoot elite and Gumpy Nattoo paused on the edge of Nekutolos Forest. They had all heard the fireside tales of ash-filled trees dropping clouds of life-choking pumice on unsuspecting travellers. After conferring about their route, the ranger who had befriended Gumpy nodded toward him: “I say let the Houndslayer lead the way, for he is crafty and shall surely lead us unscathed through these perilous woods.”

Everyone was quick to agree with the ranger, and they pushed Gumpy to the fore of the group. Gumpy had given up trying to explain himself to the admiring rangers, ever since that incident with the dread wolf. After being considered a bumpkin for most of his days, the adulation was rather pleasant. In fact, maybe the rangers were the only folk who saw his true worth! Gumpy’s heart swelled with pride as he led the way.

Three days later, Gumpy heard one of the gnomes (they were being carried in rucksacks on the Kithicor rangers’ backs) say, “I had no idea Nektulos Forest was this huge! I always thought it pretty small.” Another gnome in another rucksack further away agreed. Gumpy heartily wished an ash-laden branch would break over the little chatterboxes’ heads. They came to the edge of a clearing and stumbled into another group of Leatherfoot halflings.

The Sarge took over all the talking, never explaining why they were in Nektulos Forest, but apparently asking the way to Neriak. The Kithicor rangers frowned at the Sarge and one of them whispered to Gumpy, “Has he no shame, to stop and ask for directions thusly? Your way is much better, for it confounds those who would follow us. I name you ‘Pathfinder,’ friend.”

It seemed rather odd to Gumpy that the Kithicor rangers kept “naming” him, yet none of them ever gave out their own names. He’d asked a couple of them, but they merely laughed and said that the Kithicor rangers left their names behind with their families. An odd group, but Gumpy was getting used to their peculiar ways. Whatever strange habits they had, there was one thing for certain: they were generous in sharing their rations.

One of the Leatherfoot scouts they’d found camping in Nektulos Forest accompanied them the rest of the way through. “There’s that river again,” Gumpy heard one of the gnomes comment from the protective covering of its rucksack. At that moment, in accordance with Gumpy’s earlier wishes, the branches of the tree above it cracked and poured thick ash and pumice on its head. Unfortunately, the ranger carrying the gnome did not survive either.

“We’re down to three gnomes,” the Sarge grumbled. His rucksack bulged with the array of sprockets, gears and flizgigs taken from the deceased gnomes along the way. “One of these little fellows has got to make it to the First Gate or we won’t know how to put their mechanamagical thing to work.” The Kithicor rangers concurred and decided to gag the gnomes to keep them silent for the remainder of the journey. Gumpy was not alone in his glee.

Dawn the next day found the Leatherfoot elite and the Kithicor rangers within spitting distance of the Foreign Quarter. They could see (and smell) the trolls that inhabited the sector. A dark elf patrol wandered close by and Gumpy was very glad he had the ivy-covered gladius given to him by the rangers at hand. These dark elves looked particularly fierce.

A rustling from the nearby brush caught the attention of both dark elves who turned quickly on their heels in one coordinated, fluid motion. Gumpy could swear he saw their pointed ears prick up like a cat stalking a mouse. One of the gnomes, inexplicably out of its rucksack, stumbled out of the woods pulling the gag from its mouth. Barely had it said, “Whew!” when the dark elves surrounded it and sliced it to ribbons.

Now they were down to two gnomes. No one else among them knew how to put together the mechanamagical device meant to ensure no dark elves reinforced the forces attacking Felwithe. Things were looking mighty grim. At that unfortunate moment, Gumpy’s stomach gave a loud and irritated grumble. The dark elves stopped stabbing the fallen gnome and pricked up their ears again. Gumpy pushed on his gut with his free hand and thought, “Whoops.”

Leatherfoot Tales: The Last of the Teir’Dal, Part One

The Houndslayer’s adventures continue as he and his comrades make their way through the dangerous regions of Kithicor and Nektulos.
Debate rages through history as to the origins of the dark elves, or as they call themselves, the Teir’Dal. Considering how different they look, it’s easy to see why folks might think they’re not elves. Looking at them closely, though, one can see the tilt of their eyes and the ears and realize they really are elves. Sometimes folks call them elves and sometimes Teir’Dal.

Battles are fought every day in some form or other through the world. It seemed to Gumpy Nattoo, whom the Kithicor rangers had named “the Houndslayer,” that it would be much simpler if they could get from point A (Rivervale) to point B (First Gate) without anyone else trying to stop them. But no, that would indeed be too simple. Though the units traveled through Kithicor quickly and silently, they still ran into occasional problems.

Gumpy was tasked with relaying messages between the halfling’s Leatherfoot units and the Kithicor ranger units. As they were traveling through the woods quickly and as silently as possible, Gumpy’s messages were often late by the time they reached their destination. “And I’m about ready to pass out,” Gumpy said under his breath. “Any more running around and I will name them Gumpyslayer.”

On one of his fruitless treks, Gumpy unexpectedly encountered a group of gnomes. In the past several months, gnomes from Ak’Anon on Faydwer had been seeking refuge in Rivervale from an advancing force of dark elves. These gnomes, however, were not heading toward Rivervale but rather, away from it. “We’re with the Leatherfeet,” said one of them when Gumpy approached. “We’ve got a mechanamagical device that we’re finishing up for your fight.” “Oh,” said Gumpy blankly, “that’s nice.”

Meeting up with the gnomes wasn’t the first time Gumpy wished he hadn’t slipped out for a snack during the Sarge’s briefing. When the units camped down for the night, he tried to overhear any discussion of the forthcoming battle so that he might know their plan. He felt as though he may as well be on the dark elves’ side as he had no idea what the halflings and Kithicor units were going to do once they reached the First Gate. And what of the gnomes?

The gnomes proved a chatty group and Gumpy found himself tagging along with them more and more frequently as their journey continued through Kithicor. Every so often, an arrow would whistle out of the dark and take out one of the gnomes. For a few minutes thereafter, the remaining gnomes whispered anxiously, but in time they forgot their caution and would chat normally again. Until the next arrow whizzed in, whereupon they began whispering anew.

From their incessant chatter, Gumpy learned that the gnomes, while fleeing the battle, were also doing a favor for the high elves in Felwithe. The high elves were concerned that the dark elves would overtake the city by keeping it besieged. They’d asked the gnomes to head to Neriak to stop any reinforcements from leaving, and in turn the gnomes appealed to the Kithicor rangers and the Leatherfoot’s elite units for help.

“But what exactly are we going to do?” Gumpy asked one of the handful of gnomes left. “Why, it’s easy-peasy!” laughed the gnome, patting his chest confidently. “You see, we gnomes know there’s one way in and out of Neriak and that’s the First Gate, right? So, we’re going to take this mechanamagic device and…” At that unfortunate moment, an arrow struck the gnome and Gumpy learned nothing more about their mission.

“There won’t be any gnomes left at this rate,” Gumpy thought. “I wonder what he had in his pocket?” Slipping his fingers into the dead gnome’s coat, Gumpy located a small jumble of sprockets — or were they cogs? he could never remember — and pulled it out. It looked interesting, but Gumpy wished it had been something like venison jerky instead.

“Here, I’ll take that, son,” the Sarge’s whisper nearly caused Gumpy to leap out of his ivy-etched jerkin. The Sarge added, “Hopefully, we’ll have at least one gnome left by the First Gate or we won’t know how it’s to go together. Come on, then!” All around them, Kithicor rangers emerged from the shadows of the trees, each grabbing a gnome by the scruff of its neck before disappearing again.

Leatherfoot Tales: The Last of the Teir’Dal, Part Three

The Houndslayer, also called the Pathfinder, and his comrades take the First Gate and bring this tale to its conclusion.
The Teir’Dal guards peered this way and that into the wooded area in which Gumpy Nattoo, the Kithicor rangers and the Leatherfoot elite were hiding. Gumpy’s tummy rumbling had excited their cat-like curiosity and left Gumpy cursing himself for not eating more at dinner the night before. When the dark elf guards came closer to the treeline, two of the rangers nipped out and grabbed them, bringing that danger to its close.

The units were gathered together and waited only for the Sarge’s signal before swarming the First Gate. They had measured the defense of the area, located breaches in the security and planned accordingly. Gumpy dug in his pockets for some venison jerky, a hunk of bread or cheese to keep his stomach from growling again but found himself without a single snack. “Curses!” he muttered. At that moment, the Sarge gave the signal.

Pausing only to rifle the dead gnome’s coat for any of the mechanamagical thing’s parts, Gumpy found himself at the rear of the formation. He brandished his ivy-etched gladius menacingly and joined the fray. While their force was not particularly large, they had surprise on their side (thanks to the gagging of the remaining two gnomes) and were making mincemeat of the scant forces guarding the First Gate.

Gumpy located the Sarge and gave him the gizmo he’d found on the fallen gnome. “Thanks, Gumpy,” the Sarge said, adding, “I haven’t said nothing to you before now, but you’re a good trooper. Glad the rangers took to you so well; we couldn’t have done this without ’em.” Gumpy blushed. His tummy rumbled.

The Kithicor rangers and Leatherfoot elite troops pushed further into the Foreign Quarter, easily overcoming the resistance. “Tis like slicing butter with a warm knife!” cried one of the rangers. “Why’d he have to say butter?” thought Gumpy miserably, wishing he could find something to eat. His stomach continued its dull roar and it was getting louder with every passing moment.

He fought alongside the Sarge, who was trying to make his way forward to the remaining gnomes. The mechanamagical thing had to be put together and only they knew how. Sniffing the air, the Sarge growled, “Gumpy! I told you to get rid of that nasty wolf tail; it’s really starting to reek!” Gumpy glanced at his belt where the rangers had hung the dread wolf’s tail as a trophy piece. It was gone.

“Sarge, I…” but Gumpy got no further as a louder rumbling shook the ground beneath their feet. The Sarge tottered for a moment then regained his balance. “Oh, for Bristlebane’s sake,” the Sarge grumbled, digging into his pocket and handing Gumpy a chunk of cheese. “Eat something; your stomach’s gonna shake the world down around our heads.” And then the Sarge spotted one of the gnomes and darted off, leaving Gumpy behind.

Gumpy knew that it wasn’t his stomach making the ground shake. It wasn’t the wolf’s tail making the air stink, either. Whatever was going on, it was something else, something bad. Grasping his gladius, Gumpy headed after the Sarge. “Sarge! Sarge!” Gumpy called, but because his mouth was full of cheese it sounded more like, “Garg! Garg!” The Sarge did not turn around.

A tide of Kithicor rangers swarmed between Gumpy and the Sarge. Gumpy, peering through legs and around bellies, could see the Sarge had one of the gnomes by its ears and they were busily putting together the mechanamagical thing. The ground trembled, then roared. The rangers turned toward the Foreign Quarter’s exit and Gumpy was swept along. “Sarge!” he hollered again, but knew that no one could hear him over the sound of the earth breaking.

Dust settled and Gumpy and the rangers looked toward what had been their battlefield. The mechanamagical thing had done its work and the exit from Neriak’s Foreign Quarter was sealed, together with the soldiers that had been unable to make their escape. “That’s the last of the Teir’Dal,” said one of the rangers. Gumpy said solemnly, “Not the last of the Sarge, though. He’s a tough one.”

Halls of the Dead Creature Catalog

While stories have said that “dead ones tell no tales,” these stories are not about Stormhold or Fallen Gate. The dead of these regions are still anxious to tell their tales, as they walked the world during some of its most turbulent and violent periods. Stormhold was the base for the ancient order called Knights of Thunder, while the First Gate was an entrance to Neriak, home of the Teir’Dal.
Stormhold’s location was unknown for many seasons but is now known to be located in the foothills of eastern Antonica on Karan. On D’Lere, Fallen Gate can be reached somehow through the Commonlands. As is usual with ancient bastions, the exact locations are generally known yet never committed to writing lest the writer find himself victim of an unfortunate accident.

Both Fallen Gate and Stormhold are primarily below ground. Carved from the stones surrounding them, the weight of the world above provides great insulation against any temperature fluctuations above. They are generally cool, but not uncomfortably so. It is wise however to bring a cloak or other wrap to keep out the chill.

As sunshine and warmth do not penetrate into these caverns, the primary flora of Stormhold and First Gate are varieties of fungi and lichens. One exception in First Gate is the extremely rare cavern feeder. It is pale and faintly luminescent, growing beside underground pools. It is a carnivorous plant that dips into the water to strain discarded entrails and small fry.

It is said scenes of sudden assault are haunted by those who took part in the battles. First Gate and Stormhold prove this to be true. Ghosts and apparitions of ancient warriors and mages continue to haunt their former assignments, looking at all who enter as enemies. Being underground regions, they are each infested with various bugs, snakes and leeches as well.

Fallen Gate



The Fallen Gate is a massive labyrinth of twisting corridors and secret quest locations; notable of these are the armor quests. A key is required for access to this adventure zone. Enter at your own risk, preferably with a group.

Fallen Gate is located due west of the Crossroads in the Commonlands. There is only one entrance deep in the heart of the Yapping Maze and admission is only granted once a key is obtained. Those venturing within the maze must be careful to avoid the powerful sandstone giants, silent sentinels of stone that guard the smooth canyons.


The quest for the key to Fallen Gate Quest is initially given in North Freeport by Kanos X’Aphon near the entrance to Thieves’ Way. You will then travel to the Commonlands, where you’ll locate the mouth of Fallen Gate and speak to Tundis N’Oxyle, who will give further instruction for the Access Quest. Alternately, defeating Kizdean Gix provides another means of gaining access to this ancient ruin.

Fallen Gate is the crumbled outer section of the Dark Elf city of Neriak. The Dark Elves, or Teir’Dal, were created to be the minions of Innoruuk, the Prince of Hate. They went on to build the darkly majestic underground city of Neriak in the upper reaches of the Underfoot.

When a united army of Leatherfoot Halflings and Kithicor Rangers invaded Neriak, Dark Elf Queen Cristanos Thex ordered necromancer Tseralith to unleash a terrible magical attack upon the invaders. Tragically, the Teir’Dal themselves fell victim to the force of this power, and the outer gate of the city was reduced to ruins and sealed forever to all outsiders. Only the Undead incarnations of the Dark Elves and Leatherfoot Halflings were left to stalk the ruins.

Fallen Gate Landmarks

The First Gate – The first landmark upon entering Fallen Gate, its four columns are inscribed with a story that may yield important clues about the history of this tragic dungeon.

Vault of the Fallen – The locked final chamber in Fallen Gate, housing the formidable necromancer Tseralith. Vault of the Fallen is a single group instanced zone.