:: Joaquim and the Marid's Lute ::

...or "The Frog Prince"

Once there was a ranai named Joaquim, whose name meant “Lifted by God.” Like his mother before him, he worshipped the marids, beautiful geniuses of the water planes that sometimes blessed mortals with their powers.

When he was young, Joaquim had fallen into a ravine, trapped where his mother could not reach him. Distraught, she invoked the marids on his behalf. Pulling a magical lute from her back, she plucked the strings in a serenade that ebbed and flowed like the waves. Presently, a marid emerged from within the bowl of the lute and asked:

:: Random Item—Brick of Invisibility ::

There are few times when genius can present itself quite like a moment of need. I'm certain you are already informed, but there are a good many unexpected things in this world, and a brick with the power of invisibility happens to be just one of them. You've probably already heard this story, but suffer me to tell it again, if you will.

:: Random NPC—Yale, Bórean Dendrite ::

Yale (“Fertile Upland”)

by Wm Jay Carter III, 6/25/15

a bórean

Race: Bórean

Age: Adult

Gender: Female

Stature: Short

Physical: Small Head

Outwardly: Paranoid

Inwardly: Desperate

Profession: Physician

Magic: Dendrite—Awakened

Animal: Lion “Caerwyn”

Catchphrase: “You there. Is the Winslie village up ahead? Tell me truths or I will know! Hurry, speak!”

As you leave the Winslie village toward the Dreaming Desert you see a strange sight; out on the horizon a silhouette wavers in the heat. You take it to be a lion, but struggle to understand why it has the upper body of a snouted creature, complete with two massive clawed hands, growing out of its neck. You shake your head, wondering if the sands have already begun to take hold on your mind. Regardless, the silhouette is fast approaching.

When the beast reaches you at last, your eyes correct themselves—it is not one beast but two. The snouted creature turns out to be a bórean with an exceptionally small head. The mole-woman reins in her snow-white mount and hails you from a cautious distance. “You there. Is the Winslie village up ahead? Tell me truths or I will know! Hurry, speak!”

:: Random NPC—Emyr, Bórean Mage ::

Emyr (“Ruler”)

by Wm Jay Carter III, 6/18/15

a bórean

Race: Bórean

Age: Young

Gender: Female

Stature: Short

Physical: Long Neck

Outwardly: Sorrowful

Inwardly: Helpless

Profession: Farmer

Magic: Mage—Conjuration/Abjuration

Catchphrase: “Emyr.”

Entering the chambers of the Athanasian Council, the ambassadors all file in and take their seats. Last to enter is a siren holding the hand of a small, furry child wearing large clawed gloves and a hood featuring a mole’s snout. As the siren raises the child up to sit in one of the council seats you realize that it is not a child, but a little bórean girl with a longer-than-usual neck for her kind. Almost immediately upon being settled, she begins fiddling with her claws with a sad expression, clearly not paying attention to the proceedings. The ambassadors introduce themselves, ending with the little bórean girl. The siren reminds her to speak when it is her turn. “Emyr,” she says softly, and returns to staring at her hands.

:: Random Location—Nexus to Nowhere ::

Nexus to Nowhere

by Wm Jay Carter III, 6/12/15

a bórean

Architecture: Barn/Silo

Nation: Bórean

Condition: Haunted, Maintained

Weather: Dry

Color: Glow in the Dark

Keyword: Nexus

You light a torch and hold it overhead as the cavern opens up before you. Stalagmites emerge from the darkness like tusks, strange curled lines flashing across their surfaces as your torchlight passes. As if sensing your presence, the stalagmites begin to glow and pulsate, finally bursting with light as the strange curled lines crisscross the walls of the cavern in knotted patterns.
Dousing your torch, you observe—in the light of the strange lines—that a large neat pile of grains lies swept together in the center of the floor. Against one wall leans a large square shovel and a straw broom. Just then, a gyrating wisp of light materializes above the pile of grain. A small echoing voice speaks out of the wisp: “Hello. My name is Dai. Have you come to feed me?”

:: Random NPC—Llywelyn, Bórean Priestess ::

Llywelyn (“Lion”)

by Wm Jay Carter III, 5/26/15

Race: Bórean (Moles)

Age: Middle-Aged

Gender: Female

Stature: Tall

Physical: Small Hands

Outwardly: Angry

Inwardly: Troubled

Profession: Farmer

Magic: Priest—Dark

Catchphrase: “You have desecrated this unholy place. Now, by the command of the Darkness, you shall die.”

You cut through the farmer’s field to shave a little distance off your journey; surely what the old codger doesn’t know won’t hurt him. But as you walk, the sky begins to darken, and the clouds, once white and puffy, take on the bright red of blood. The roar of a lion pulls your attention back to the ground, where you see an enormous cat wreathed in a mane of fire. Beside it stands the tallest Bórean you’ve ever seen (still only the height of a tall child). The mole-person squints her beady eyes, raises her small clawed hands to either side, and utters: “You have desecrated this unholy place. Now, by the command of the Darkness, you shall die.” The flaming lion rears back to leap on its prey.