Aside from the Dragons mentioned in the Setting pages and the Inhabitant Races, the following creatures are native to the continent of Shalannan.
Where I have created an increased or decreased variant, a direction reference to the Monster Compendium will be present. The Monster Compendium will be available in The Market soon. Below are some examples of the new, modified, or variant creatures that will be contained within The Monster Compendium
(Coming Soon!)
Long before the elves first arrived, several dragons came to reside across these lands. In the Great Forest of Verndane a Green Dragon (Dalbiarynth). In the tallest rise of the Central Mountains a Red Dragon (Goryviod). In the southern mountains that divide the Plains and the The Great Forest where the mountains grow colder a Silver Dragon (Xunioss). In the northern mountains that divide Y’hserin, Verndane, and Shalannan a Copper Dragon (Qurgeor). In the tallest highest mountain of the large mountain island southeast of the peninsula a White Dragon (Chulludu).
The dragons have all produced various progenies, some of whom have flown from this region, leading to the infrequent sightings of traveling merchants.
The Green Dragon, Dalbiarynth, is responsible for the “sickness” that the original Y’hser elves felt when surveying the continent. This was the same draw that brought Ennohj and the corruption of her offspring tainted Roque; her evil pervades the forest and is the primary antagonist that drove many insane before the fall of Crythia. She has clutched several broods, but most have killed their siblings.
The few who remain do not enjoy each other’s company and are scattered across the forest or in the western and northern mountains that border Verndane.
The Red Dragon, Goryviod, resides high in the tallest peaks at the convergence of the mountain ranges in the center of the continent. He has asserted his will and evil over the creatures of the mountains, keeping the Duergar at bay in the lower realms and lending his force of will to incite Korthog to not only find him, but to find The Manor which Lord Roque had built deep in the forest.
The Silver Dragon, Xunioss, has taken residence in the southern mountains of Verndane to keep Dalbiarynth in check. From time to time Xunioss will take wing high over the forest, his color blending with the clouds and sky if Dalbiarynth were to look upwards, but causing occasional bright “flashes” that can be seen from the Plains.
The Copper Dragon, Qurgeor, prefers warm hills, but not hot mountains, so he has traded off his transmute rock to mud spell with the equivalent wall of ice that normally only white dragons possess and his offspring cast it often to keep the caverns cold. This is the reason that the uppermost peaks of these mountains are covered in ice year-round. He has taken this post to monitor Goryviod in the mountain peaks, and occasionally flies low between the mountains, his coloring blending into the broken rocks.
The White Dragon, Chulludu, is content to monitor the seaways and occasionally swoop and pick up an ocean creature, such as a whale, from the waters surrounding he island and bring it back to her lair for her brood to feed upon.
Verndane’s inland shipping town, known now only as “Vist” in legend and the tales of bards, was originally designated as the shipping town of Crythia. From this town in the Forest of Verndane, logging goods were shipped both down river towards Greyn and the Plains of Shalannan, but also overland through the southern pass to a small port on the cost and then overseas.
As the Merchant’s Guild rose to power in The City of Shalannan about two ages past, the new chairs of the Merchant’s Guild sought to consolidate power, money and prestige for themselves by ensuring that all shipping would be channeled through Shalannan. The fortune of Crythia changed almost instantly from a profitable venture and expansion of Shalannan to a lamented thorn in the centralization of power.
The Merchant’s Guild knew that the pious of the Chapel of Shalannan would, through their virtue, attempt to suppress any of them who tried to implant a movement of power, and condemn such a consolidation. So the Guild Chairs created a rumor of a heathen uprising in the Forest of Verndane and enlisted many of the contentious clerics and officials from the Chapel of Shalannan on a crusade to eliminate the heathen threat. Only Tritus, a rising scholarly cleric, refused to accompany the party on the crusade, feeling that he was required to remain in Shalannan to keep holy counsel to the citizens of the city.
Upon reaching Crythia the party was separated into several teams to spread out and search for the uprising’s roots. They were led by Merchant’s Guild Representatives who directed each of the groups of clerics and official overseers on scouting parties into the woods of Verndane in different directions. As the parties wandered well out of any contact with Crythia into the woods, the Guild Representatives showed their true nature, as assassins. As the parties were unaware of this treachery, they were dispatched patiently over the course of several days, adding to the survivor’s fervor to find the “heathen” who were committed these atrocities.
One of the parties that went northward did stumble upon an uprising, but not anything they were expecting. Near the northern source waters of the river flowing out of Verndane was an old manor, which was lost to the shambles of time at that era. Upon reaching the manor the party was set upon by lycanthropes and a number of the undead; both corporeal and incorporeal.
The party was able to dispatch some, only to succumb to the venom of their wounds, so no message of this finding could ever make it back to the magistrates.
When none of the envoy to Crythia returned, and no tale could be told of the state of the settlement, The Elders of Shalannan stated travel into Verndane to be forbidden for all, and begun the construction of The Wall to block the Pass of Verndane and keep watch over the near forest.
The few left in Crythia, fearing for their lives as the parties failed to return, abandoned the weak, injured, or sick and went south towards the coast (putting as much distance between the river and their path) with the prayer that Shalannan would send rescue by sea.
They were gravely misled.
Korthog grew as an orc in the tribes habituating the lower caverns of the central mountains. He had an uncanny knack for the ways of the arcane, never having needed to study any of the arts. He was always warily eyed as someone who could not be trusted, for as his power grew, so did his selfishness and gall.
Korthog was raised in the clan until his 14th year, when his desire for greatness took on a new tact. Korthog had heard about the dragon that lived in the highest peak of the northern mountains, and as such endeavored to seek out the dragon. He believed in the stories he had heard that this Wyrm was truly evil, and had heard the whispered words of his tribe that he was as a demon and hated as well. By seeking the dragon, he would either confirm his superiority in besting it in combat, or seek his fortune through counsel with the great wyrm.
His tribe had recently routed a clan of upstart dark dwarves from their halls in the central mountain. He knew that they had not only been tunneling up from their subterranean caves towards the surface, but had also been working a stair up through the mountain towards the peak. It was this path that he chose to seek the wyrm.
It was a cold autumn day, that Korthog set off into those upper halls, and eventually found his way to the lair of the great beast; the Red Dragon Goryviod. The Dragon initially set upon him, but sensing his true nature, wounded him only so much as to keep Korthog from escaping. Over the following months to years, Goryviod fostered Korthog’s endeavors, and clouded his heart further with his evil. The poisonous soul of the dragon’s soul corrupted Korthog completely.
Three years after their initial encounter, Goryviod “confided” in Korthog the location of The Manor in the Forest of Verndane. Goryviod knew the evil that Lord Roque had begun in that foul place and commanded Korthog to venture to The Manor without speaking of Roque. Goryviod hoped that Korthog would kill Roque and take up his work, Roque would kill Korthog proving to be a worthy opponent, or Korthog and Roque would join and lay waste to these lands.
As Korthog navigated the forest, the sickness became palpable as he neared The Manor. Trees were withered, lifeless and barren. The shrubberies grew in thorniness and density. Even the sunlight seemed to shy away. When Korthog finally entered the grounds, he felt the chill of death and smell of decay. The smells were pleasant to him, and filled him with vigor, rather than palling him to waste. Rogue had turned himself to shadow, and polluted Korhthog’s thoughts and guided him through The Manor.
Korthog found Lord Roque’s journals, and the magnificence of raising the dead provided Korthog the nightmarish dreams he had always been seeking. Korthog found the laboratories in the basement of The Manor, and with the journals began to set about resuming the work of Lord Roque. But first, he needed victims.
Korthog learned of the town of Crythia from Roque’s journal, and endeavored to find it. Studying the town, night after night, he learned which houses didn’t board up the windows at nightfall and which let their young play at will with poor oversight. Over the next year and a half, members of the Crythia community would vanish without a trace; no sound was ever heard and no tracks were ever left. The only clue ever found were a few pages from The Journal of Ennohj that Korthog accidentally let slip during a capturing raid.
At The Manor, Korthog would subject his captives to torment and torture, before allowing them to release their life. He would then work with the bodies in an effort to reanimate the dead. Sometimes he succeeded, and created a zombified corpse that would do his bidding. Often, however, in these early stages he encountered failure and the deceased’s spirit would remain bound to the place of their horrendous demise seeking eternal rest.
Over the next age, Korthog kept experimenting, and his competence increased. Fewer subjects died and were lost; more remained and were raised. He also found that by combining the arcane with the defamed, he could infect creatures with a virus that afflicted them minimally but allowed them to be carriers of his diseases. Korthog would release his vermin near Crythia and the infections and illness carried through the town like fire in a dried field of wheat.
Almost ten ages ago, as one of the founding sons of Shalannan, Roque (Rho-k) was a young lad who revered his father Armitrus (Arm-I-tuss). Armitrus was the Chair of the Shalannan Shipper’s Guild, and dutifully taught Roque how to read and write in numerous languages in order to facilitate his rise as a merchant both at home and across the seas. Roque’s mother had passed soon after his birth, and his father, who was often absent in the early years, had raised him almost completely. As Roque aged, Armitrus allowed him to accompany on many trips bother overseas and up The Great River to Verndane as he was grooming him to take over his shipping business.
Roque’s heart was cold, and no warmth from his father could thaw it. Armitrus knew this, felt it in his very being, but never wanted to look it true in the eye. As such, he took an interest in his son, and educated him as best he could, but turned a blind eye to the misadventures of his child.
When Roque was of 6 years, his father took a new wife, Amylien (AM-ily-yen), who only a year later gave Armitrus a daughter, Rosaerie (Rose-A-ree); whom Roque immediately viewed with hatred. He tormented his younger sibling, and was almost incessantly admonished by his new mother; something he was unaccompanied to and blamed this disdain on Rosaerie.
When Rosaerie was just five, Roque outwardly warmed to his sister and the torment seemed to cease. After months of playing congenially, he was able to convince Amylien on a fine May’s afternoon to allow him to take Rosaerie on an outing to The Chapel for the day, to play in the orchards surrounding, and tour The Chapel to speak with and gain wisdom from the clerics. She acquiesced, somewhat suspicious, but trusting that under the supervision of the consecrated and pious at The Chapel her daughter would be far from distress.
Roque did take Rosaerie to The Chapel, and they did visit the orchards as he had planned. It was clear and bright in the afternoon when the terrifying scream was heard. All who came running found Rosaerie’s limp body at the base of the blossoming apple tree from which she had fallen, and Roque kneeling over her. He claimed to all that he had seen her climbing the tree, but didn’t concern for her as he felt sure she wouldn’t climb high. He told anyone who would listen that she must have gone higher than he counted upon and fallen while he was looking away.
It was not only Amylien who noted no tears in Roque’s eyes as he told his tale and looked upon the lifeless body of his young sister. Only two nights passed before she was able to confide in Armitrus her horrible suspicion. It was a fear she could not shake and a rumor she could not be deaf too; an acolyte of the order of The Chapel had confided in the most senior Chapel Elder that he, upon hearing the scream of Rosaerie, had looked out the window of the bell tower and seen Roque scrambling down from the very tree at the base of which Rosaerie’s broken body lay.
Armitrus was broken by suspicion, but could he doubt one of the venerated members of The Chapel? He went, under cover of darkness, to consult with the same Chapel Elder and interview the acolyte to hear his tale with his own ears, removing all rumors. With all sincerity and truth in his eyes and voice, the acolyte recounted his story as tears welled in his eyes. It was this truth that drove Armitrus back to his home, to rouse his son from slumber and confront him.
Roque, believing that his father would side with him over the intrusion into their family of Amylien and Rosaerie, told his father what had truly happened. Roque had taken Rosaerie to The Orchard, and then goaded her into climbing the tree with the least branches and the most difficult to see from any vantage. He had pushed her higher and higher into the tree, and once at the top had grabbed her and flung her to the ground far below. He had thought she would have neither time nor presence of mind to scream so he hadn’t counted on needing to vacate the tree as rapidly as he was warranted to do.
As he descended the tree, he noted she was still breathing; so he knelt on her chest until she stopped.
Armitrus was horrified at what he heard, and terrified of what his son not only had done, but at the coldness and distance with which he recounted his own actions. He realized, shaking, that Roque was proud of what he had done, and Armitrus saw in his eyes that the taking of Rosaerie’s life had given him a confidence that was undeniable. Armitrus knew instantly that the same fate would befall Amylien,, perhaps others, unless he were to take definite action. There was only one thing that he could do to protect not only his new wife, but also the other citizens of Shalannan and his reputation in the city.
It was a tense two weeks later when Armitrus and Roque set out on their next trip to Verndane.
After having arrived at Crythia, Armitrus found a trapper whom he paid to take his son into the forest deep and “forget him to the trees”. The trapper reluctantly agreed, swayed only by a considerable sum. At daybreak, Armitrus bid Roque a good day, telling him that the trapper would guide him through he forest so he could see first hand the trees, bushes, and animals that they would be trading in; as knowing from whence they come would allow Roque to better value them to the buyers.
Armitrus needed to remain in Crythia to inventory the latest wares, a job that was truly as boring and distasteful as could be to a youth such as his son.
Roque was buoyed that his father was putting the faith in him to become more involved in his trade, and blindly went with the stranger disappearing southwards into the woods.
It was only a few hours later that the trapper returned, with a bloody cloak; the one Roque had been wearing the morning they left. He told Armitrus, with convincing moans and wailing, of how they had been set upon by an enormous bear, which had mauled Roque and only just allowed his escape showing his own wounds. Armitrus immediately raised a party of woodmen who he knew to be unfamiliar with the deep forest (under advice of the trapper), and hurried off into the thicket under the guise of finding his son. They returned at nightfall, having found nothing: no body, no bones, and no trail. Roque had vanished, as if into thin air.
Armitrus returned to Shalannan feeling both the despair of losing his only son, but also the lifted burden of the evil he had unknowingly spawned.
In truth, the trapper had taken Roque into the woods and knocked him over the head with a solid stone. Once unconscious, the trapper removed a bear’s claw from his sack and wounded himself, spilling his own blood onto Roque’s cloak, which he then removed from the body. An unconscious body covered in blood in the woods would certainly be dealt with ‘naturally’ he presumed.
It is a time beyond memory, the tale only exists in legend, the details are unknown, and the threat is almost forgotten….
The elves and first men of Shalannan fought for their very lives and the survival of these lands. Evil dragons, Brilliant Green and Scarring Red, soared overhead challenged only by the Good, a Brilliant Silver and Radiant Copper rose to challenge them.
It was in this time that Ennohj found the lake deep in the forest and built the manor. There are none who knows his origin; there are none who knows from whence he came. How The Manor was built is beyond any understanding. But it is clear; once he came to this forest the land began to die.
The dead began to rise again hungering for death, orcs raided from the central mountains, and dark dwarves swarmed the hills.
It was in this chaos that the elves and men marched into the forest, challenging Ennohj at The Manor. The hordes of undead, the reanimated men, elves, dwarves, and orcs that had fallen in battle challenged the intruders. The battle lasted for six days and nights, and the living lost were countless adding to the undead hordes that faced them. Desperation grew…..
It was to this plea that a man Androlian (an-DRO-li-yan) and an elf Y’hersila (y-HER-sill-ya) conceived of the plan to challenge Ennohj directly; praying that by vanquishing him the unholy hordes would fall having no champion and master. They enlisted help from a halfling Heryhan (HER-ee-han), a dwarf Breunar (BREE-an-ore), and another elf Zatric (Z-AT-rick).
Androlian was strong in his faith, and brought calm and peace to those around him.
Y’hersila was a true elven child of the woods showing great precision with his bow and great affinity for the animals of the wood. Heryhan was small and smart; sneaky and cunning.
Breunar was brave and strong of will and resolve; a master of arms.
Zatric was one with the aether, her skills and knowledge of the arcane were unrivaled across the lands. They were found by Xunios, the silver dragon, in her human form. Xunios advised the party of a path around the northern rim of the mountain range which would flank the enemy while the attention was focused on the army approaching from the south.
The party successfully navigated this assault with the aid and companionship of Xunios, the silver dragon. The approached The Manor from the north and began to search The Manor for any signs of the villain. After many frustrating hours dodging traps and minions, Xunios discerned Ennohj’s location, high in the second tower of The Manor. The party prepared and climbed the almost infinite stairwell. On the highest floor they readied their weapons and spells, then kicked open the door for the first time seeing their antagonist.
Androlian and Y’hersila took the body of Ennohj and burned it, ensuring that only ash remained. They placed the ashes into a brass vessel, and sealed it with a magical ward. They than locked the vessel away, with all of the books and papers they could find, in a room deep in the caverns below The Manor.
The door was locked with a key that could not be opened by any spell of man or desire of evil. The entirety voted against destroying the building, they chaired favorably in allowing the forest to retake the stone, wood, and metal over the ages. As they and their remaining comrades departed the manor, they truly believed that the terror was laid to rest.
The weapons of these heroes, Androlian’s mace Bane of Darkness, Y’hersila’s bow WitchSlayer, Heryhan’s daggers Doombringer and Nightkiss, Breunar’s axe Bloodsurge, and Zatri’s staff Dreambender, are kept in great regard and the greatest of care in the elven city of Y’hserin.
Over the ages they have fallen not into disrepair but are unkempt relics of these respective cultures viewed as reminders of a pained but almost forgotten past.
Shalannan (SHAL-a-nan), Y’hserin (Yee-sear-I-en), and Verndane (VERN-day-en) are neighboring lands found in the southern-most tip of Hyebrenia (HI-bren-yi-a). Several small isles surround this peninsular region.
Y’hserin, the northern forest, is both the forest realm and the capital home of a multitude of elven societies. Elven societies have found homes in the woods, near and on the water, and among the southern hills. Curious halflings may also be found wandering these realms while the occasional son of man may be found engrossed in arcane studies.
Shalannan, to the south, is a region of plains and forest bounded by the mountains and the sea with two large isles off the coast to the east. It is the home of men, elves, and dwarves; as well as the offspring of the conjoining of these races. The capital city, Shalannan, sits on the eastern coast and provides the governance and military might for this southern land.
Verndane, to the west, is a dense forest surrounded by mountains, but the elves of Y’hserin sense disease, foulness, and death here. It was many ages ago when the Men of Shalannan and the Elves of Y’hserin fought back the evil that came to arise in this wood.
But now, in these recent times, orcs are again pillaging from the mountain border of Y’hserin and Shalannan, strange storms are intensifying in the southern straights, and a sickness seems to be encroaching from Verndane. Are these events related? Can you find a common thread, a common foe, and a band of compatriots to help you challenge these new dangers?
In a time before time, thousands of ages ago, the Elves of Y’hserin settled upon the northern shores and found the massive forest much to their liking. Not caring to explore, the elves were content to know nothing more of the continent than the forest their home. The elves have always loved nature and the forest is filled with flora and fauna of all varieties, vermin, animals, and fey alike. The elves setup a port where traders of the elves, dwarves, and halflings made land for exports and trading. There is a well-tended cart path that leads from this port through the forest to the elven city, as the elves detest stone roads.
The elves have sectioned their forest home into four regions; The Shore to the east where the port can be found, The Little Wood to the north and west to the sea, The Home where the city is located, and to the south is the Watch Wood.
Some halflings with a common love of the forest, or on a quest for knowledge, would find their way to stay with the elves during these times.
The ships of men eventually found the shores of the Shalannan. Traders had always sailed the seas to and from the Southern Lands and Northern Lands, but this continent of Hyebrenia was totally unknown until explorers, sent to determine if there was anything beyond the shipping lanes, saw the mountain peaks well over two days before they saw the cusp of land.
Being adventurers, these men sailed the shores of the southern continent and found the port and the road to the elven city of Y’hserin. The elves were dignified, and cordial, but clearly expressed their displeasure with this disturbance. They requested that the mean leave their wood alone. The men begrudgingly obliged, realizing the financial gains that could be made in the foresting of such a region.
The men sailed the entirety of the continent and found that only in the Southern Plains could they make safe landing. They charted several islands around the continent, but not many have travelled to the far shores of the continent since.
In the next few ages, the port they had created on the eastern shore of the Southern Plains allowed thousands of other humans to arrive and explore their fortune in this new land. The City of Volland was founded in this period, providing the humans a settlement further inland. The farms in the central plains were also founded and the bounty, both lake and field harvest, began to flow down river to the port and the City of Shalannan. Settlements were attempted around the lands of Shalannan, and met with varied degrees of success but all save the settlements on the Southern Plains failed and were left to degrees of decay.
A dozen ages ago, dwarven immigrants began arriving at the port of Shalannan and made their way north through the plains to found a city in the foothills of the mountain range. During this same time, humans pushed further west towards the mountain range, founding a city and finding an enormous forest beyond the Pass of Verndane. Having given their word to the elves to not touch the Forest of Y’hserin they were overjoyed at the potential riches this forest could afford.
As the reports of the riches of the mountain range to the north and the forest to the west arrived and were carried abroad by traders, the original port began to grow and coin began to amass. The port evolved over the next few ages into the walled city it is today and has become a bustling trade hub.
Today, the Southern Plains have become divided into political regions, defined by the settlements that men have created. The regions are recounted here in order of founding: the Capital City of Shalannan, the Floating City of Volland on the Lake Vollous, the Farming Commune of Beadale, the Mining Outpost of Otian, and the Forestry Center of Greyn. Kylead is a martial center for men and dwarves who thirst for horse, steel, and the glory of combat, whereas Kafathals is a serene center for men and elves who wish to know nature more closely.
The elves of Y’hserin have always been somewhat wary of the new humans. As such, they sent an envoy to live in the city to serve as consul as much as to ensure that the men would continue to honor their pledge. These envoys reside apart from the humans of the city and most days they keep to themselves in their enclave. Not entirely recluse, the elves do intermingle with the city population in order to keep tabs on the general activities.
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Hyebrenia (HI-bren-yi-a), a land in a far away place, is abounding with adventure, danger, riches, and the fame and fortune a conquerer would reap!
At this time, The Regions of Shalannan, Y’hserin, and Verndane are the focus, with setting almost complete and adventures being created and tested practically. The map for this region has been finely polished and aligned with the lore, adventures, and setting needs.
As each location setting is further refined, a new page will be added for it.
Please be sure to check back often, as the development and testing process means that releases will be ongoing for quite some time.
