The Campaign Builder's Guild

[ic=A Heroic Wind Blows]
The hour of twilight. The first light of dawn begins to shine upon the long-abandoned ruins of Nur-Il, it's now roofless towers flushed in the crimson effulgence of the rising sun. The last gusts of chilling nocturnal air sweep clouds of sand from the desert along the empty streets, littered with rubble and overgrown with weeds. A lone figure walks on the broken cobbles of the main avenue, the sides of which were once lined by colonnades of tall pillars. The young man's attire of dark-red silk wraps loosely round his athletic body, the lengthy bangs of his bluish-black hair flutter in the breeze. On his left hand a broad-bladed sword rests in it's scabbard, a wondrous sheath fashioned from lustrous gold. Though he treads softly like a cat, the swordsman makes no attempt to conceal himself. Indeed, his presense seems unnaturally vibrant; every ounce of his being radiates intense vigor that stands in stark contrast to his forlorn surroundings.

With keen eyes this youth observes the desolation spreading before him. He arrives at an open space that had been the central plaza of the city, once full of life and throngs of people. The disc of the sun burns hot on the red-tinged horizon behind the young man as he stops, climbing to stand atop the plinth of a fallen pillar. In an elegant posture he holds up his sword, still sheathed in it's golden scabbard, and announces his arrival.

"I am Kalar, disciple of Dal Domar! I have come for you, forsaken Shain. In the name of the Order I compel you: reveal yourself!"

His powerful voice, strangely imperious for his age, booms and echoes throughout the ruins.

The man who bears the name of Shain emerges from the depths of the ruined city. He moves with the savage grace of a creeping panther. Draped in tattered, dusty silks of deep indigo that must have once been splendid, long and matted brown hair partially obscuring his face. He too carries a broad-bladed sword, although the sheath of it is tarnished with a greenish sheen. He comes to stand a rock's throw from the youth, gazing at him with bloodshot eyes.

"I have been expecting you, Kalar. I knew the old man would choose you for this task. He thinks I will hesitate when it's you. Because I used to call you a blood-brother. But already I've shed such weaknesses of the soul, like a snake sheds it's skin. If anyone will hesitate here, it will be you."

Shain's words cut through the cool morning air like razors. His menacing voice carries a phantasmal gravity of terror that would chill the bones of a lesser man, but Kalar answers him without a slightest hint of trepidation.

"Murderer! Apostate! You have no right to call me brother. This I swear: today your spirit will be set free by my blade. I regret only that this day didn't arrive sooner."

The steeled tone of the swordsman leaves no room to doubt that he is determined to kill with absolute conviction. Yet, his words are devoid of malice. The golden scabbard begins to shed mystical light, being enveloped in a faint halo. His opponent snorts derisively, veritably unimpressed.

"You are a fool to believe you can best me. I think I'll kill you slowly, to savour your dying screams. Just like I killed that cute acolyte girl you had your eyes on. She struggled longer and fiercer than her classmates."

"I will avenge her death. I will avenge every life you've taken. May their souls find solace in your downfall!"

A similar halo appears on the scabbard in Shain's hand, though it's light is somehow tainted, glowing sickly with purple and green flickers. The two swordsmen glare at each other and draw their weapons, falling into elaborate combat stances as they do so. The blade that emerges from Kalar's golden sheath is made of pure crystal and blazes with a numinous incandescense. His foe reveals a nearly identical sword, though it's luminescense is as marred as the halo of it's scabbard. Tension rises as neither one makes a move. Ominous silence falls upon the ruins of Nur-Il, as if the universe itself was holding it's breath in anticipation. Finally, without word or warning the combatants spring forth on the same heartbeat, leaping like pouncing tigers to strike each other down.

A brilliant flash! The sound of a thunderclap reverberates across the crumbled walls and cracked columns of Nur-Il, caused by two crystal blades colliding. Locked in a furious dance of death, the swordsmen exchange lightning-fast cuts and stabs, parrying with their metallic sheaths and dodging and rolling out of the way, moving with the speed and grace of falcons in flight. In the flurry of the melee their swords crash against high-standing rubble but are barely even slowed down, the magical blades cutting through stone and brick as if it were paper.

With neither of them able to gain advantage, the fighers disengage, once again staring each other down from a distance.

"You've become faster since the last time we sparred, Kalar. Dal Domar has trained you well. But you're not the only one that has been training. I've acquired forbidden knowledge, powers beyond the meagre teachings of the old fool, Dal Domar. Behold! The fearsome shape of the spine-eater!"

Howling out those words, an aura of mystical fire flares around Shain. His body distorts and bulges, waxing in proportions and changing in shape. The fearsome transformation completes swiftly: where the swordsman stood but moments ago there now stands a gargantuan figure of nightmarish features. Easily five times as tall as a man, with three muscular arms, massive claws of razor-sharp metal as long as sword blades, a large spiked tail, a demonic face frozen in a wrathful grimace, a pair of long impaling horns, and covered all over in hardened shell-plates. This hulking battle-giant regards Kalar with feral eyes.

Although the mere sight of such a titan could break the resolve of an entire army, the young swordsman stands before it fearlessly.

"I will not allow the name of my master to be belittled by the likes of you! And I have an answer to that form."

The colossal monster snarls, exhaling a foul haze of smoke.

Kalar sheaths his crystal sword, raising the scabbard high. The halo emanating from the sheath intensifies. His voice echoes with eldritch force as he calls out the word of summoning.

"EI..."

The very earth beneath his feet trembles faintly from the force of the utterance.

"DO..."

For a blink of an eye the sky blackens. A gust of wind whirls around Kalar, fluttering his hair and his clothes.

"LON!"

The power is unleashed. A rift to Pandemonium is ripped open. The demon on the other side answers the call. The young swordsman smiles triumphantly as the avatar of his spiritual shadow materializes behind him: a likeness of a giant warrior clad in ornate golden armor, with a reptilian head and two pairs of red-feathered wings, carrying a huge polearm fitted with a long blade of coruscant metal. The fabric of the world itself seems to fade and warp around it's majestic form.

The enraged colossal juggernaut that Shain has turned himself into screeches a bestial battlecry and charges. The newly summoned eidolon rushes to meet it's charge, engaging this opponent in melee. The earth shakes, clouds of dust rise all around, and the remains of dilapidated buildings collapse from the force of the fierce clash of these giants. While that battle rages on, Kalar grasps his sheathed sword with both hands. He closes his eyes and concentrates on gathering magical energy, conducting it into his crystal sword.

Eventually sensing that his eidolon is becoming overwhelmed, the heroic swordsman opens his eyes and dismisses the demon with a gesture. As the armored figure dissolves into thin air, the terrifying battle-giant bellows a laughter. It turns it's attention back to the young man. Kalar meets it's infernal gaze with a countenance of unbreakable determination. His eidolon has bought him enough time for a decisive strike. He knows that everything rests on this one attempt. He must not fail.

The titan shakes the earth with a powerful foot stomp, preparing to crush the hero like an insect. Kalar draws his crystal sword, it's blade now shining with blindingly intense radiance. It pulsates with numinous power that emits shockwaves at every heartbeat. Kalars' eyes begin to glow with ethereal light. His hand grips the handle of the sword tightly. Time seems to slow as the gods in heaven turn their attention to witness this moment. The rising sun looms effulgently overhead. A heroic wind blows.

A single strike ends it all. A blinding beam of destructive power shoots forth from the crystal blade, annihilating everything in it's path. It is a force that cannot be withstood. The colossal form of Shain is perforated by that beam. He shrieks sharply but for a split second before disintegrating, reduced to ashes that scatter to the wind. Peaceful silence falls upon the ruins of Nur-Il. The young swordsman hangs his head, having vanguished an old friend that had been lost to madness of vile corruption.
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Quote from: Introduction
You are a paragon, a glorious hero endowed with magical powers and martial valor. A member of an esteemed order of warrior-mystics, dedicated to defending your homeland -- an island floating in the air. In the lands below, myriad city-states are scattered across a trackless expanse of dangerous wastelands teeming with outlaws, barbarians, ravenous monsters and stranger things. Armed with a powerful crystal sword and golden sheath, guided by the teachings of your wise master, you are prepared to meet any challenge with honor and integrity. Although insidious forces are afoot in the world, you are destined to triumph through sincere struggle and perseverance. Adventure awaits you. Have no fear.

Quote from: Bits of Information
Genre: heroic fantasy
Races: human only
Roles: everyone is a magical warrior, with different specializations
Focus: action, investigation, drama
Key elements: floating islands, magical swords, city-states, nascent civilization, isolation, heroism, honor, magical martial arts, loyalty, belonging, camaraderie, resisting corruption, keeping your word

Some inspirational works:

• Star Wars films
• Exalted RPG
• Final Fantasy video game series
• Shin Megami Tensei: Persona video game series
• Fate/Stay Night visual novel
• Chrono Trigger video game
• Legend of the Five Rings RPG

[ooc=About]
Some of you may remember my attempt at a space fantasy, the Astral Blades. That never went anywhere, but this may be something of it's spiritual sibling. Paragon was ultimately born from this one thought I couldn't get out of my head: jedi knights in a fantasy setting. It all began with that thought experiment, which kind of snowballed as I piled on elements from various sources. So, it is shamelessly derivative. Hopefully I can cultivate it into something good.
[/ooc]

Mechanics?

Quote from: Rose-of-Vellum
Mechanics?

Eh, I say just learn to repair you're own car. Mechanics are expensive.

Quote from: Rose-of-Vellum
Mechanics?

I think Paragon needs it's own system. There's no way I could make it run well under eg. Pathfinder, it's just too different. Maybe with some extreme system hacking, but with that much work it'll be easier to just start from scratch.

[ic=Destruction]
For eighty-million years EON slumbered; for eighty-million years EON dreamed. The cycle of ages came to it's end, and the old world was grown weary from the sins of a thousand epochs. The order of things was unravelled, the wheel of time ceased it's turning. The birds of paradise trilled, and by their sublime song was EON awoken. EON beheld the impure world, and sounded the horn of unmaking. The seas boiled, the mountains roared, the skies fell down, the hills burst in flames, the rivers flushed away, and the valleys parted into gaping chasms. Darkness descended, silence befell, the universe was unmade, and the formless chaos returned.
[/ic]

[ic=Creation]
EON saw that there was only the chaos -- the yawning maw, the nihil. EON's thoughts filled the void, and the void was become the primordial sea. EON sent forth the ibis-bird, which laid an egg upon the primordial sea, and the egg floated on the inert waters. After countless epochs the egg hatched, and the five cosmic forces burst out from within it, and they radiated outward into the universe, setting the wheel of time into motion. Their outburst broke the stillness of the waters, causing a great tumult. As the waves settled, a great mountain emerged from the sea. EON then flourished the sword of separation, and with a single strike cut the mountain in twain; it's severed peak was become the heaven and it's base was become the earth.
[/ic]

[ic=Preservation]
EON spake the words of cosmic order, and these words were become irresistible law. But the final word thus spoken did not fall silent as the words afore it had fallen: by the will of EON that final word was shattered, and the shards of this word were innumerable, and for a million years and a year the shards fell like rain, and the three worlds were showered by this rain. From the shards of EON's word were born the gods, and the birds, and the beasts, and the fish, and the grasses, and the scrubs, and the vines, and the fruit-bearing trees; from the final word were born all things that walk, or fly, or swim, or crawl, or grow upon fertile soil. And EON spake no more, and fell asleep. Once again EON slumbered. Once again EON dreamed.
[/ic]

I dig this. I liked Astral Blades, and I like this, too. But I think it's already been established I am pretty on board with this kind of thing. :grin:

This sort of thing is absolutely my jam.

Quote from: sparkletwist
I dig this. I liked Astral Blades, and I like this, too. But I think it's already been established I am pretty on board with this kind of thing. :grin:

Quote from: Lmns Crn
This sort of thing is absolutely my jam.

Glad to hear that!  :grin:

Quote from:  The shape of the universe
The universe is made up of three worlds:

• the astral realm of Heaven -- the uppermost part of the universe, shaped like a dome and supported by the eight pillars of sky,
• the chthonian realm of Earth -- the middle part, in the likeness of a flat plane, and
• the oceanic realm of Abyss -- the lowermost part, as infinite fathoms of primordial waters.

Each of these worlds touches the two others, their boundaries somewhat unclear. Beings divine and mortal alike inhabit them all.

Quote from: The passage of the sun
Every morning the Phoenix Bird is reborn on the edge of the Earth, in the furthest east. Every day it soars across the sky, bearing the aurulent sphere of sunfire, the blazing radiance of which illuminates the cerulean firmanent of Heaven and the earthbound lands below. Every nightfall the bird falls down in the furthest west, beyond the land of the dead, and perishes, consumed by the flames.

Quote from: Skyward Realms
In the world there are large landmasses miraculously suspended in the air, levitating halfway between Heaven and Earth. These floating islands are known as skyward realms. They are relics of extraordinary sorcerous might, lifted among the clouds a long time ago by the legendary race of empyreans. Though their creators are forever gone, the skyward realms continue to hover in lofty heights above terrestrial ground. Now they are the homes of human paragons and their mundane kindred.

Traveling to and from these airborne domains is possible on the backs of large flying animals, and via magical beams of light that lift passengers up and down between the skyward realm and the earth's surface. The islands, large enough to bear entire mountains, rivers and towns, are kept afloat by citadels -- towering, monumental palace-fortresses of magical construction. They are bastions of order and tranquility in a world beset by many calamities.

Secure in their elevated station and preeminence, skyward realms extend a benevolent hegemony over those city-states that fall within the scope of their observance. With this clout of authority comes the responsibility of providing protection and dispensing justice: skyward realms send contingents of troops spearheaded by paragon warriors to help their client states defend against invasion, and itinerant paragon agents patrol the lands enforcing the citadel's laws.

Quote from: Ghostman

Quote from: Skyward Realms
Secure in their elevated station and preeminence, skyward realms extend a benevolent hegemony over those city-states that fall within the scope of their observance. With this clout of authority comes the responsibility of providing protection and dispensing justice: skyward realms send contingents of troops spearheaded by paragon warriors to help their client states defend against invasion, and itinerant paragon agents patrol the lands enforcing the citadel's laws.

Are they really benevolent, or do the skyward realms simply see themselves as benevolent?

They definitely see it differently than the denizens of the earthbound kingdoms. Especially the part where the latter have to pay tribute to them. Even so, they're far from being outright oppressive.

Quote from: Glossary
Abyss: The infinitely vast primordial freshwater sea, situated beneath the Earth and it's surface waters. One of the three worlds that comprise the universe.

Chaos: AKA the cosmic darkness, the gaping maw, the nihil. That which preceded the creation of the universe and which antecedes it's destruction.

Citadel: A majestic palace-fortress on a skyward realm. Seat of the local citadel lord.

Citadel Lord: A paragon grand master and ruler that reigns over a skyward realm.

Cloud Spider: Mysterious spirit that spun cobwebs in the sky, heralding the chaos that would menace the world in it's present age.

Deluge: A catastrophic event that befell as a torrential rain that flooded the earth. Humans and animals found refuge on the skyward realms.

Demons: Disembodied spirits that dwell in pandemonium.

Dynama: A vital, potent force that flows through all living beings. The fuel that fires paragons' magical powers.

Earth: A plane of solid ground upon which mankind dwells amid plants and animals. One of the three worlds that comprise the universe.

Earthbound Kingdoms: City-states ruled by priest-kings, usually under the dominion of a skyward realm.

Eidolon: A spiritual personification mystically linked to a paragon's ego; a specialized type of demon. Eidolons dwell in pandemonium but they may be summoned
via powerful magics to manifest as fierce battle-avatars.

Empyreans: A legendary race of antediluvian giants, exiled from heaven and now extinct. They created the first paragons by uplifting chosen humans, infusing them with sublime magical power.

Empyrean Language: The sonorous tongue of the empyreans, which they taught to the paragons. Today it is only spoken by paragons.

Empyrean Mysteries: A universalist religion practiced and spread by paragons. Founded on the legacy of esoteric wisdom inherited from the empyreans.

Enigma Scroll: A magical scroll containing a copy of one of the legendary enigma texts recorded by the empyreans. Regarded as a sacred object in the empyrean mysteries.

EON: A cosmic entity of indescribable nature, responsible for the creation, preservation and destruction of the universe. EON is all and EON is one; EON is the alpha and the omega.

Exgates: Magical portals in the form of large metallic rings, built by the empyreans. They used to allow swift communications and travel between distant parts of the world, but are now largely dead or malfunctioning.

Fallen: Once ordinary people who have been warped by the corrupting madness of the Scourge.

Folk Religion: The multifarious ethnic religious traditions of the tribes of mankind.

First Men: The first human beings to walk the earth. The tribes of mankind each claim descent from one of the first men, venerating him as their sacred forefather.

Five Cosmic Forces: Fire, Light, Shadow, Thunder and Wind. Mystical forces of the universe, born within the cosmic egg.

Forsaken: Paragons that have succumbed to corrupting madness of the Scourge. They represent a terrible menace to the world and must be opposed decisively.

Heaven: The dome-shaped realm of stars and aether that rests above the Earth, supported by eight pillars. One of the three worlds that comprise the universe.

Idol: A wooden or stone image of a deity, regarded as it's actual material avatar.

Idolatry: The religious practice of revering and worshiping idols. A nigh-universal feature of the folk religion of the civilized tribes of mankind.

Pandemonium: An invisible otherworld that overlaps with the phenomenal world. Beyond the range of normal human senses. Home to various kinds of demons.

Paragon: A superhuman warrior-mystic, member of the Paragon Order.
- Acolyte: A young person born with the gift to become a paragon, undergoing training in a school.
- Disciple: A paragon sworn to loyalty and service under the tutelage of a master.
- Master: A high-ranking paragon who acts as a mentor and supervisor to a number of disciples.

Paragon Order: A religious-militant brotherhood of paragons that administers and defends the skyward realms.

Path: A discipline of specialized training and orientation, designed to allow a paragon to leverage their talents in accordance with their attunement.

Phenomenal World: The world as ordinary people know it.

Redbands: Members of the citadel guard, an unprofessional warrior class of the skyward realms. They are distinguished by their red-dyed headbands.

Reptites: A squamous race of diabolic sorcerers from subterranean depths. They once enslaved mankind, but were destroyed by the empyreans.

Scourge: An intangible cosmic entity that spreads like a disease, contaminating the very souls of people and twisting them to it's minions.

Skybeams: Magical beams of light that lift passengers up and down between skyward realms and the earth's surface. Accessed by stepping upon a flat circular platform of silverly metal on either the floating island or on the ground beneath it.

Skyward Realms: Islands floating in the air, many fathoms above ground. They are large enough to bear mountains and towns upon them. Homelands of the paragons.

Triarma: A paragon's personal weapon, composed of his sword, his sheath, and his soul. Triarma are magical artefacts of immense power.

Tribes of Mankind: Principal divisions of mankind. Each tribe is descended from a particular forefather and identified by it's common ancestry, language and traditions.

Quote from: Life of A Paragon

Early Childhood
A child is born to one or both parents of the paragon caste. Since his very first breath he bears the gift of latent power. He spends his early childhood in the care of his parents, elder siblings and household servants, privileged of a safe and clean home and sufficiency of nourishment. As soon as he is deemed ready, typically between ages 5 and 7, he begins to attend a school within the citadel.

The Awakening
During his first month of school the child undergoes a series of rituals that gradually awakens his dormant gift, setting him on the path of transformation into a paragon. For now he bears the status of an acolyte.

Acolyteship
The acolyte attends his school alongside other paragon children of the realm. He is instructed by many wise teachers, generally high-ranking elderly paragons. School activities consume much of his time and he forms close bonds with his classmates, who are one day to be his colleagues and comrades-in-arms.

The education of the acolyte consists of a variety of subjects intended to prepare him for the challenges he will face in adulthood: speaking the empyrean language, reading and writing it's hieroglyphic script, etiquette, poetry, traditional singing and dancing, playing a reed flute, the code of citadel law, theology, meditation and leadership. The second half of every school day is reserved for training in martial arts and the channeling of dynama and shaping it into manifest powers.

Coming of Age
After ten years or so in school, the acolyte attends a final examination, confirming his worthiness. He is then allowed to undergo a coming-of-age ritual, which sees him transformed into a full-fledged paragon. He acquires the sword and sheath parts of his personal triarma, to be carried proudly as a symbol of his caste. The ceremony concludes with the young paragon swearing loyalty to a master, beginning his time as a disciple.

Loyal Service and Adventure
The young paragon begins his service (and continued training) as a disciple under one of the masters of the citadel. Each morning he gathers with his comrades-in-arms at his master's quarters. All the disciples present greet their mentor in order according to seniority of rank. The master receives them graciously and distributes any provisions that are due. He may then discuss recent news or listen to any requests or problems his disciples may bring forth. If there are any pressing matters that call for intervention from brave paragons, the master assembles a party of his capable disciples and dispatches them to handle the task. Participating on these missions is how the paragon ends up experiencing exciting adventures, facing daunting enemies, and performing glorious deeds.

Old Age and Retirement
Although his magical gift blesses the paragon with longevity and lessens the weight of years on his body and mind, eventually he too will feel the march of time become a burden that prevents him performing his duties to the fullest. When that time comes he may request a retirement from active service. As a retired paragon he may end up acting as an advisor to the citadel lord, a priest tending to temples and holy places, or a healer or wise-man dispensing benevolent aid to those in need.

Death
Whether in battle or on his deathbed, the paragon will inevitably pass away some day. When that happens, his fellows in the Paragon Order will retrieve his remains, including his sword and sheath, if at all possible. His body is anointed with oils and embalmed. Among some sects, actual mummification may be performed. Solemn funerary rites are performed by priests, ensuring his ghost's unobstructed passage into the afterlife.

The disposal of his body varies by local traditions. Among some tribes the corpse is placed in a ornate sarcophagus, his sword sheathed in it's scabbard resting on his chest, and entombed within a sepulchre. Among others the body is cremated on a pyre under the open sky and the ashes are placed into a decorated urn, which is then stored in an underground catacomb alongside the sheathed sword. A paragon of truly exalted status, such as a citadel lord or a high priest, would be buried within a great monumental tomb such as a stone mausoleum or a pyramid.

Do Paragons, with their powers, ever turn down darker, more selfish paths? Are there ever rogue Paragons that have fallen and use their abilities for personal gain or conquest? If they do exist, do other Paragons hunt their corrupted compatriots down? If they do not risk becoming villainous, why is that?

There are some rogues, sure. Some of them are just vagabonds (they tend to not find a place to go in civilized lands) and the order doesn't hunt them unless they start actually causing trouble. Those that do are captured and brought to trial, stripped of their swords at the very least, if they weren't killed resisting arrest. And then there are the forsaken -- supernaturally corrupted madmen. They are tracked down and eliminated.

Paragons are very unlikely to abandon the order because generally they have nothing to gain and everything to lose by doing so. It means no more allies, no more training, no social status, no access to the resources you used to have, leaving behind your friends and family. Not to mention they grow up and live in a very lawful society that values loyalty highly, and practice a religion that promotes harmony.

As usual, Ghostman, I am envious of your superior skill at word- and worldcrafting. I want to play in this.

I might have missed something, but is the entire "ground level" of the setting an ocean? In the entry under Deluge it would appear so. If that's the case, how many Citadels are there? I assume all floating islands need a Citadel - is there a lot of land between them? What would a journey down into the Abyss look like? Can Paragons muster powers to breath in the crushing depths of the ocean, or is that a realm beyond their skill?

Who are the movers and shakers of the world, besides the Paragons? Are there any existing threats (a metaphorical "mindless horde of orcs/demons"), or are those created more on a campaign-basis?

I'd love to know what you come up with for a system for this. No pressure.

Quote from: Weave
I might have missed something, but is the entire "ground level" of the setting an ocean? In the entry under Deluge it would appear so.

No, it's like in all those real world ancient flood myths: the earth is flooded for awhile, then goes back to normal. The earthbound kingdoms and the barbarian nomads are all placed down there, after all.

Quote from: Weave
I assume all floating islands need a Citadel - is there a lot of land between them?

Each skyward realm has a citadel. It's actually the citadel that's making the island levitate. The realms are scattered across the world, sometimes so far apart that they're effectively isolated, sometimes so close that their political spheres of influence overlap, causing tension.

Quote from: Weave
What would a journey down into the Abyss look like? Can Paragons muster powers to breath in the crushing depths of the ocean, or is that a realm beyond their skill?

That would be an epic journey beyond the ordinary scope, and require some sort of plot device to make it possible.

Quote from: Weave
Who are the movers and shakers of the world, besides the Paragons? Are there any existing threats (a metaphorical "mindless horde of orcs/demons"), or are those created more on a campaign-basis?

The big political powers are the skyward realms, and the lesser powers are the earthbound kingdoms and the nomadic tribes. There are also some seriously powerful creatures out there - godzilla scale - that are generally not showing up unless disturbed for plot reasons. Much of the world is unexplored, so there's plenty of room for strange unknown things.

Quote from: Triarma
Every paragon carries a personal magical weapon of awesome power known as a triarma, a weapon that is spiritually linked with it's wielder and evolves along with the paragon's fighting skills and mental growth. A triarma is a singular entity, although it seemingly consists of three components: a crystal-bladed sword, a golden scabbard, and the indomitable soul of an enlightened hero. The sword is symbolically associated with the male gender and the sheath with the female gender, while the soul is a unifying element -- making the weapon one with it's wielder.

The substantial components of a triarma are virtually indestructible: they never crack or dent or bend out of shape, and withstand even conditions as extreme as being submerged in molten lava. The crystal blade cuts through most things (that aren't other triarma) as if they were made of water and never loses it's edge. When the wielder is channeling dynama his triarma may shed light or emit halos or other visuals.

Paragons alone bear these vaunted weapons, symbols of their esteemed power and nobility. Much of their magical combat arts is focused on channelling power into their triarma, enabling spectacular feats of swordsmanship. Their fighting styles are variations of what might be termed 'sword-and-sheath style', in which the sword is wielded in one hand and the sheath in the other. Although the sword is favoured for striking and the sheath for parrying, both are readily employed in either manner in accordance with the ebb and flow of combat. Since the styles require both hands, losing an arm would be a crippling injury for a paragon.

For practical and spiritual reasons paragons keep their triarma on their person whereever they go, and are legally sanctioned to do so, although unsheathing the blade may not be lawful in many situations. Having any part of one's triarma lost or stolen would be immensely shameful for a paragon, not to mention disastrous. When at all possible, a deceased paragon is laid to rest together with his sheathed sword. Other kinds of weapons may be used for the purposes of training, contests and hunting, but are never resorted to in mortal combat -- even without their triarma, a paragon's skills and magical power are on such level that he has no need for mundane instruments of battle, leaving those for the masses of conscripted peasant-soldiers.

This is very cool - I'm always in favour of giant monsters.

I'm curious as to the substance of the Paragon mystic teachings. The Phenomenal World/Pandemonium split suggests something like the Kantian phonomenon/noumenon division, which makes me wonder whether the Paragons strict deontologists as well, obsessed with duty and code. I also get a vague sort of Jedi-Buddhist-Zen vibe.

There is no true division between the phenomenal world and the pandemonium, it's just an illusion arising from the limitations of human senses and perception. Pandemonium might be considered that part of the world which lies beyond the possibility of your perception - no matter where you go and what you do your eyes cannot see it, your ears cannot hear it, your hands cannot grasp it. But unlike ordinary people, paragons actually are able to sense and interact with pandemonium in very limited ways. Even from their perspective though, there seems to be a barrier, a gulf between two worlds that requires effort to cross. But in truth these "worlds" are just a single, unbroken continuum.

As for deontological ethics, it might be possible to stick such a label on paragons' ways of thinking, but I wouldn't call them strict. They certainly don't completely dismiss value in the consequences of actions.

Quote from: The Paragon Order
All paragons consider themselves to be members of a brotherhood that transcends political boundaries. It is the source of the common customs, knowledge and beliefs shared by paragons from all the various tribes of mankind. This brotherhood, the Paragon Order, was created long ago during the time when the great race of empyreans was fading. The empyreans had been the leaders of the early paragons, but with them passing away from the world the uplifted warrior-mystics needed to start looking after themselves.

It was decided that the wisest and most learned among them, the grand masters, would form a council that would direct the order and settle any disputes. Each grand master presided over a host of paragons, attending the council once in a year unless there was a cause to call for an emergency meeting. After the last empyreans perished, the citadels passed on to the grand masters who took the title and duties of a citadel lord upon themselves. Their positions, held until death or retirement, were thereafter passed on to the highest-ranking master in the citadel.

Being based on the skyward realms the Paragon Order was scattered across the world, but it was able to maintain unity via a network of magical gates that enabled fast communications and travel between the far-flung corners of the earth. When these gates began to dysfunction and die, the order inevitably started to fragment into isolated cells. The breakdown of communications put an end to the council meetings, leaving every skyward realm cut off from all ohers save for those located nearest them. Despite this splintering paragons continue to refer to the order as if it were a unified body, religiously upholding it's traditions even in times when they must make war upon each other.

The order established a hierarchy of ranks to regulate interplay between it's members. A paragon belonging to a lower rank must always show respect and courtesy toward his superiors, even when they are enemies. Conversely, a higher-ranking paragon must never denigrate his lessers, but to give them merited appraisal.

Quote from: GhostmanThere is no true division between the phenomenal world and the pandemonium, it's just an illusion arising from the limitations of human senses and perception. Pandemonium might be considered that part of the world which lies beyond the possibility of your perception - no matter where you go and what you do your eyes cannot see it, your ears cannot hear it, your hands cannot grasp it. But unlike ordinary people, paragons actually are able to sense and interact with pandemonium in very limited ways. Even from their perspective though, there seems to be a barrier, a gulf between two worlds that requires effort to cross. But in truth these "worlds" are just a single, unbroken continuum.

Cool, I like this better actually. I don't know if you're familiar with the German Idealists but this is a very Fichte/Schelling/Hegel sort of way of seeing the world. I approve.

I think the Citadels are very evocative - huge floating castles. I get a kind of Miyazaki vibe.

Well, they're not floating castles so much as palatial fortresses standing on big floating islands that bear quite a bit of landscape along with a population of people and their houses. For default setting atmosphere and aesthetics I'm imagining New Kingdom Egypt and Old Babylonia, blended with a bit of Star Wars visuals (especially for the citadels and other empyrean-made things), although styles should vary quite a bit throughout the world.

Quote from: Masters and Disciples
With the exception of the citadel lords, every paragon is sworn to loyalty and service to a senior ranking paragon. This bond of loyalty forms the relationship between a master and a disciple, which is a fundamental aspect of a paragon's life and identity. Being masterless is regarded as a most undesireable prospect, akin to a ship cast adrift on uncharted waters without land in sight.

A master may have more than a dozen disciples under his overwatch. He acts as a mentor guiding the disciples on their path as paragons, dispatches them on missions according to their abilities, outfits them with the tools necessary to accomplish their tasks, and rewards or punishes them according to their conduct. He is expected to be fair and wise in all of his actions and decisions, an exemplar his disciples can aspire to imitate.

A disciple serves and trains under his master, alongside his peers. He is expected to conduct himself honorably at all times, never to cast shame upon his master by misdeeds. Every disciple is sworn to defend his master courageously, at the cost of his own life if necessary. Should he require guidance, he can confide on his master. Should he require equipment, provisions or personnel, he may request his master to provide these things.

The first master a paragon comes to know is the one he swears loalty to when completing his coming of age ceremony. If his master retires or passes away, he must swear loyalty to a new master. In some cases it is necessary for a disciple to be transferred from under one master to another, though that happens very rarely. Those paragons who display exceptional ability, wisdom and strength of character are allowed to enter a test to prove their worth and rise to the position of a master. They are then expected to gather disciples of their own.

Quote from: Death
Far away to the west -- the direction of death -- there is a forbidden land, a vast expanse of lifeless desert that stretches to the very edge of the world. This place is called the land of the dead, said to be the final resting place of the departed souls of mankind. A great rift that bisects the earth separates this land from the realm of the living. When people die they become ghosts. These disembodied spirits detach from their bodies and feel drawn to the afterlife that awaits them in the west. Complicated funerary rituals must be performed to send the ghost on it's way and to provide guidance along it's journey.

Quote from: The Living Dead
Sometimes spirits of the dead are unable to pass away, being held on in the world of the living. There are various reasons that might cause this: the proper rituals may have been neglected or incorrectly performed, the place of burial may have been desecrated, the soul of the deceased person may have been cursed to linger, or it may be spiritually unclean due to things that happened during life, or it might be bound to worldly matters by bonds of strong emotional attachment. The most common cause of all might be that of regret: regret is a formidable burden that weighs down a soul, and regrets too deep or too numerous borne at the time of death would render a soul too heavy to fly away.

Living dead are restless ghosts that haunt the world. They can manifest in various different forms. Most typically a ghost conforms to the appearance it had during life, though not necessarily near the time of it's death. This avatar casts neither a shadow nor a reflection, and it's eyes are dull and lifeless. Sometimes the spirits of the dead instead possess bodies of living people or even inanimate objects. They might even appear in the realm of dreams, haunting people during their slumber. Many ghosts are fixated on some particular source of obsession, and their behaviour seems erratic to the living. Some are afflicted with terrible, unwholesome hungers and stop at nothing to sate their urges.

Even paragons find it very difficult to handle a haunting. Although there are rituals of exorcism, those are anything but reliable and involve a risk of invoking a terrifying wrath of the ghost. That is why reputedly haunted places tend to become abandoned and shunned.

Quote from: Paths
Although all paragons draw their supernatural powers from the same source -- by channeling dynama -- there are differences in how they control and shape that power. This is so because their inherent talent is aligned with particular currents in the flow of dynama, like a radio being tuned to a particular frequency. This inborn trait is known as attunement, and it is a major limiter on a paragon's ability to learn and channel new powers.

Due to their distinct attunements, individual paragons are more inclined toward different kinds of roles and actions. This fact was recognized very early by the Paragon Order, which began to give specialized training to the acolytes, honing their skills in accordance with their attunements. The result of this specialization is a number of paths that different paragons follow. A path is a combination of inherent attunement and formal training, enabling the paragon to make the most of his potential, acquiring especially potent powers and techniques not compatible with other paths. Since attunement is an inborn trait, a paragon can only walk a single path.


Path of the Dragon Warrior
Paragon dragon warriors are a fearsome force on the field of battle, charging valorously at their opponents, always ready to embrace a heroic death. They are the shock troopers in the armies and warbands of the skyward realms, cherishing the ideal that the best defense is a strong offense. Endowed with fiery ardor and preternatural strength, trained in the aggressive dragon style of swordfighting; few are the foes that can withstand their assault. The advanced techniques and powers of dragon warriors are formidable but also very taxing, burning the warrior's dynama rapidly.

Path of the Falcon Warrior
Mobility and swiftness, both in body and in mind, characterizes the falcon school of paragon martial arts. Warriors of this school often fight mounted, riding on swift steeds of various breeds. Even when dismounted they are impeccably fast on their feet. Their style of fighting is nimble, a combination of fluid elegance and astounding acrobatic stunts: leaping, rolling, diving, backflipping... Falcon warriors maneuver through the battlefield like whirling winds, engaging and disengaging at their leisure and taking advantage of the positioning of slower-moving enemies. If their style has a weakness, it is the reluctance to commit to a decisive melee.

Path of the Turtle Warrior
Victory favours the patient, if the turtle warriors are to be believed. As contemplative adherents of a defensively oriented combat art, they place much emphasis on endurance, viewing it as more than merely a matter of tactics. They practice an ascetic lifestyle and willingly expose themselves to many forms of austerities and pain, stoically enduring these hardships to harden themselves in mind, body and soul. Through enduring, self-denial and rigorous training they forge themselves into indestructible juggernauts that stand firm, tirelessly deflecting an attack after attack and shrugging off every mind-addling mental assault.

Path of the Herald
Heralds are expert diplomats and courtiers, versed in the subtle arts of manipulation, etiquette and leadership. Among all paragons they possess a very special status that bestows a limited amount of diplomatic immunity and universal access to courts, even commanding the hospitality of enemies. They have extensive knowledge about paragons and other people of importance in the world, and maintain large networks of useful allies and contacts across borders. Heralds are natural leaders, being endowed with supernatural charisma and skilled in the ways of inspiration. Their advanced techniques and powers are suited to influencing crowds of people, forging and breaking apart alliances, bolstering their comrades and demoralizing their foes.

Path of the Inquisitor
While all paragons have a duty to uphold the code of law and investigate crimes and threats to the realm, none are as adept at this as inquisitors. With keen senses and sharp minds complimented by rigorous training, they are excellent investigators. They are authorized to conduct house-searching and interrogations within the borders of their realm and it's client kingdoms. In addition to handling more ordinary cases, inquisitors are trained to uncover and hunt down the forsaken and to contain the propagation of forbidden knowledge. They have techniques and powers that allow them to track people and other creatures, unravel mysteries, detect lies and treachery, and to deal with occult threats.

Path of the Sage
Every paragon possesses magical power, education and esoteric knowledge, but there are some of them who grow into veritable fountains of puissance and wisdom. Sages can readily provide answers to questions other character's wouldn't even think to ask, and their mastery of philosophy, theology and the grand secrets of the universe is unparalleled. What they do not already know they can often discover via contemplation or research. Their ability to channel dynama is prodigious to the point that many sages eschew swordplay as a means of self-defense, prefering to engage their opponents with pure feats of magic and only resorting to close combat as a last resort.

Path of the Medium
Those who walk the path of the medium are closer to the invisible world of Pandemonium, more in touch with all things spiritual. Their sixth sense is highly developed, making them aware of the presense of beings mortal and divine alike, and enabling them to sense major disturbances in the ethereal backdrop of the universe. Mediums practice a method of divination by entering a trance wherein they experience prophetic visions. They are adept at contacting, summoning and banishing demons of the Pandemonium, and their personal eidolons are always very powerful.

Path of the Phantom
Even the more idealistic members of the Paragon Order have to admit that sometimes the greater good is served best through espionage. Those who follow the path of the phantom carry out such inglorious yet imperative duties as covert intelligence gathering, infiltration of enemy ranks, sabotage, critical strikes and stealth reconnaissance. Although their missions are challenging and often precarious, their abilities are up to the task. Phantoms are trained in mundane stealth skills, but also learn to channel dynama to conceal their presense and walk unseen in broad daylight, phase through bolted doors and other such obstacles, and to bedazzle their foes to create opportunities for a quick escape or a decisive attack.

Quote from: Exgates
Empyreans left behind many miraculous wonders, among them the magical portals known as exgates. They are large ring-shaped structures, made of an unknown metallic material and faced with symbolic inscriptions. Exgates are situated outdoors, set to stand upright on stone pedestals, with a ramp or a stair leading up to the base of the ring. These gateways used to be connected to each other, allowing a person to step into one and out of another, no matter how far apart the two might be. The network of exgates spanned the breadth of the world, allowing nearly instantaneous communications.

It was due to this eldritch transportation system that the empyreans -- and the Paragon Order after them -- were able to convene and act in unity despite their abodes being scattered across the world. The fading away of the empyrean race led to a gradual degradation of the exgates, rendering them dead or malfunctioning. This loss of communications had dramatic consequences upon mankind, isolating both the skyward realms and the earthbound kingdoms from the farway lands that had effectively been their neighbours. The Paragon Order also lost it's unity, fragmenting into myriad cells.

Because of the convenience of the exgates civilization in the world had developed in ways it otherwise could not have. Major roads had never been constructed because they had been unnecessary. There were no caravan routes, ship building and navigation were underdeveloped, the world beyond the rural hinterlands was largely uncharted territory, and kingdoms had only a vague understanding of where they lay relative to each other. Cities and towns had been built on locations near exgates, with virtually no consideration for access to other kinds of transportation routes. Farmlands and pastures expanded as circular zones outside city walls, specled with small villages, before giving way to uninhabited wilderness.

The collapse of the exgate network has left mankind struggling to establish alternative routes of communication and transport. There is an ongoing drive to explore the previously shunned wilderness, to locate alternative sources of natural resources that used to be supplied through the gates, and to make contact with kingdoms and realms that can be reached via current means of travel. There is also an increasingly hostile competition over precious resources and the control over strategic hotspots that manifests as disputes and wars between polities.

Quote from: Language
All paragons are bilingual: from early childhood they are taught to speak both the native language of their tribe and the sonorous empyrean language. The latter is the tongue of politics, religion and high culture within the skyward realms, used in all conversations between paragons. It is also the only language in the world that can be written, having a script made up of hieroglyphs. With the exception of scribes and other civil servants, ordinary people are illiterate and never learn to speak empyrean. Thus paragons have to communicate with them in the native tongue.

Due to long-lasting isolation in the wake of the malfunctioning of the exgates, the empyrean spoken by paragons has changed and fragmented into regional dialects. Paragons from different realms are still able to understand each other but the minor differences in speech mark them out as foreigners.

Quote from: Appearance
The tribes of mankind are numerous and greatly varied in their appearance. Ordinary members of each tribe are quite homogeneous, exhibiting hair, eyes, skin and other features in likeness of their ultimate forefather. Paragons on the other hand are noticeably more diverse in appearance. One reason behind this is that before the loss of the exgates it wasn't uncommon for members of the Paragon Order to migrate from one skyward realm to another and intermarry with their peers, whereas normal human beings stayed with their native tribes, rarely venturing further than a day's walk from their home village. Another reason is that the eldritch power that infuses every paragon also subtly mutates their bodies, manifest as uncommon or even unnatural features such as yellow eyes or silvery hair.

Quote from: Citadels
Every skyward realm is kept afloat in the air by a majestic cyclopean structure known as a citadel. Standing tall in the center of the island's capital, the citadel is at the same time a formidable stronghold, a palatial residence, a religious sanctuary and an administrative headquarters. The paragon sovereign styled as the citadel lord lives and holds court in the citadel, assisted by a retinue of bureaucrats and paragon household-warriors. In the event of an attack upon the realm, the citadel acts as the final bastion and rallying point for it's defenders.

Citadels are imposing magical buildings, veritable miracles erected long ago by the extinct race of empyreans. Every citadel is unique, and stands out in stark constrast to the sprawl of man-made huts that surrounds it. Since empyreans were like towering giants compared to men, the rooms and doorways of the citadels tend to feel excessively spacious to their present inhabitants. The architecture of citadels is uncannily beautiful and far superior to anything mankind has been capable of producing, featuring forms and structures that would be impossible to construct by mundane means.

Quote from: Dragons
Dragons are formidably powerful, magnificent creatures that invoke awe in the eyes of all the peoples of the world. They resemble giant-sized, feathered snakes with resplendent plumage, mighty jaws, gleaming eyes and large horns on their heads. Although they do not have wings, dragons soar the skies by magical flight. All dragons bear the gift of speech and are highly perceptive. They are also natural dynama users, although their powers are inherent and different from those of paragons. A dragon's most fearsome weapon is a searing beam of energy shooting out of it's maw, a momentous attack that has to be charged up before it can be unleashed.

Dragons fall into two easily distinguished kinds: the immortal high dragons and the mortal low dragons. The latter have no limbs at all, while the former have 4, 6, 8 or even more legs; the greater the number of legs, the more powerful the dragon in question is. High dragons are rarely encountered because they tend to be very aloof and detached from the world of mortals, being focused on enigmatic pursuits and plans that can span millennia. In contrast low dragons are more numerous, less elusive, and much more worldly in their endeavors. Some of them are peculiarly curious about paragons or other exceptionally powerful humans, to the point of approaching and befriending them. A paragon's dragon companion might allow him to ride on it's back, acting as a flying mount. Even the smallest of dragons is strong enough to bear a handful of human riders.

Quote from: Earthbound Kingdoms
Human civilization originated on the skyward realms, but soon spread down to the earth's surface. People flocked together forming settlements that grew into towns, nascent theocracies ruled by priest-kings. These places developed into city states, colloquially refered to as the earthbound kingdoms in distinction from the skyward realms. A city state is more than just the city and it's urban population: it extends it's domination over a stretch of territory in range of roughly couple of day's ride from it's walls. This territory contains the cultivated fields and cattle herding pastures that feed the population, as well as smallholds and tiny villages where the peasants dwell. Within the city proper are the workshops and kilns of craftsmen, the palace of the priest-king, and the temple mound (typically a ziggurat) with a shrine of the city's guardian deity.

Most earthbound kingdoms exist under the political domination of a skyward realm, bending knee and paying tribute to it's citadel lord. Some of them are independent, being too far away to subjugate now that the exgates no longer enable easy long distance travel. They clash with each other over resources, and are occasionally attacked by bandits or nomadic raiders. Their populations are entirely made up of baseline humanity, although parties of paragons from the skyward realm frequently show up on diplomatic missions or other official business. Renegade paragons are a rare sight and always a cause for apprehension.

Quote from: Nomadic Tribes
After the deluge, when the waters receded and the survivors returned to earth from their refuge on the floating islands, a schism formed between the tribes of mankind. Those who swore fealty to the citadel lords were taught the ways of civilization: the tilling of fields, the harvest, the construction of fortified towns, and the rule of law. Those tribes founded the earthbound kingdoms. But there were many who refused the offered fealty, tribes that rejected the civilization of the paragons. These tribes retreated deep into the wilderness where they continued their ancestral ways of life, as beast-herders and hunters and gatherers. They continue to live thusly to this day, reclusive and hostile. To the people of the earthbound kingdoms -- who frequently suffer from their raids -- they are known as wild men who know no law other than strength of arms; savages who go where they want and do as they please.

(Edit: This is a reply to this review (http://www.thecbg.org/index.php/topic,210122.msg231639.html#msg231639) )

That was some fast service! :)

Quote from: sparkletwist
A paragon is born a paragon, a caste above the mere groundlings, and a paragon always ends up joining the Paragon Order rather than having any choice of any other career. I rather like the "class" structure you've created with the paths, but by making them inborn and inherent and immutable, not only is it predetermined that they're going to be a paragon, it's predetermined just what kind of paragon they're going to be, too. While none of this really matters from a gaming context, because players are going to be paragons and they have their choice of class and whatever, I think it has some fairly important ramifications for the setting, because the characters have basically no choice. The angsty character who was born and bred to be a Paragon but isn't sure if this is the right calling for him is a nice idea to have once or twice, but what you have here is basically a conscript army with a lifetime term of service, and that's going to breed a lot of malcontents. Only, I guess it doesn't, because apparently they never go rogue because they live in a very lawful society and value harmony highly, or something.

I think I have mentioned renegades a time or two, though maybe I should write a proper entry about them. Joining the Paragon Order isn't actually mandatory, but there are very significant incentives to do so. So if someone with the gift really wants to live an "ordinary life" instead of becoming a paragon, they're not going to be brought to trial over it -- but they will end up burning many bridges and abandoning a privileged (but not quite luxurious) quality of living for a much more austere life of manual labour. The options may be heavily biased, but the choise still exists.

As for the paths, that's simply the consequence of different inborn talents, and an education system that teaches you how to make use of those talents. Should someone that was born with the ability to turn invisible, yet would actually prefer a teleportation ability, be angsting over this? Perhaps so. :P People are inevitably born with inequal traits even without considering supernatural talents. Some have the potential to become world-class athletes through hard practice, most people don't. Should we lament the fact that a low-DEX dwarf makes for a terrible rogue compared to the high-DEX halfling in Pathfinder, even when players have the freedom of choosing their PC's race and using point buy for the ability scores?

That said I think you've raised an interesting point here about (perceived) lack of choise in-setting, especially concerning choises that fall outside roleplaying. What makes paragon paths feel more restrictive than races in other RPG settings? Both are something outside a character's own choise, both provide benefits that boost the character's potential at specific activities above that of other characters. Is it simply because races are a traditional element that we're accustomed to accepting?

One of the reasons why I'm designing the setting in the way I do is that I want to put emphasis on external sources of power in character creation & advancement, and to incentivise maintaining allegiances and a respectful attitude toward tradition. The gift of the paragons is external in the sense that it was given to them by the empyreans, and then passed down. Training is an external source as it is provided by the instructors at a school, deriving from a long-lasting tradition. Equipment also is provided from the citadel's armory. This is all intended to create a situation where characters grow more powerful by participating in social systems (as disciples to their master, as retainers to their citadel lord, as members of the Order, as comrades to each other) and thus have a vested interest in protecting their society. In contrast, rootless drifters who owe loyalty to no one and selfishy pursue only their own personal benefit, are clearly disadvantaged.

It also invokes some particular tropes that I feel are very appropriate for the setting's flavour: the elder mentor who instructs the hero (as Obi-wan to Luke, and paragon masters to their disciples), the power and prestige of ancient martial arts (when a Dragon Warrior strikes, he does so using techniques perfected by thousands who wielded them before him -- such perfection cannot be matched by the self-trained renegade, who only has a single lifetime to hone his own skill, without the guidance of a master), and the theme of heroically sacrificing personal assets and ambitions for the good of someone else or something greater. It is also moving away from rootless individualism, which seems to be something of a trend these days.

Quote from: sparkletwist
There also doesn't seem to be any chance for anybody to earn their way (or even just randomly rise up due to a radioactive spider bite or something) into the ranks of the paragons. And that's unfortunate, because the unlikely hero is fertile ground for character concepts and can often lead to some really cool and really creative characters, especially when placed next to the more traditional types for contrast. It doesn't seem like it can happen here. I mean, there may be exceptional circumstances, but you didn't talk about it, so I don't know. Life for the common people seems to be kind of a crapsack anyway, given that it's basically medieval and they don't have any popular representation since they are ruled from floating castles by literal übermenschen.

I don't know if you meant quite this by an unlikely hero, but there are a few children born to ordinary human parents that possess the gift to become paragons. These cases are very rare but they do happen. The gift itself is strictly a binary condition - you either have it or you don't. It's unknown why it sometimes manifests without direct parentage from a paragon (paragon+paragon couples almost always beget gifted children, while a paragon+mundane couple's children have ~1/3 chance of inheriting the gift), but it's usually assumed that the gift somehow skipped a generation or more.

Life for ordinary people may not be great, but it's better than in any grimdark-leaning premodern setting. Mostly it's the underclasses having a hard time though; the aristocracy of the city states probably surpasses the paragons in terms of material wealth and quality of living.

Quote from: sparkletwist
I'm also not sure how the world stays so unexplored when having a big floating island would be a pretty good vantage point for making a map-- unless the people who own the floating islands just pretty much don't care about what goes on down on the ground. Which might be it, actually. The Paragon Order has apparently done a pretty good job of presiding over the decline of civilization and has made no significant advancements in magic, technology, magi-tech, or whatever. They have no idea how to fix the exgate network. There is an "ongoing drive" to explore the world but with all their abilities and floating castles and whatever, they haven't done much; it seems like they'd rather sit up there and rule over the little people and collect tributes. They can't keep roving bandits at bay, let alone the undead.

That's a good point about the islands providing a long range of observation. I may not have been clear enough about it, but they're supposed to be stationary -- they don't just cruise around nor do they drift with winds or anything, which does limit their reach. Since the world is flat there needs to be some reason why you can't see everything from a mountaintop anyway, so it might as well be a weird visual fading or something. This is why heavily fantastic fantasy breaks if you think about it too logically :P

There has been technological development for sure. Maybe the period from the Old Kingdom of Egypt (2600s BC) to the Babylon of Nebuchadnezzar II (ca 600BC) would provide some idea of the pace of progress, although the setting is too fantastic and anachronistic for direct comparisons. Magic has also advanced (as the adoption of path-specific training shows) but the picture is distorted by the fact of  human/paragons' magic being on a entirely different level than that of the empyreans. The drive to explore is supposed to be a major thing and a source of adventures.

"Sitting up there collecting tributes" might actually be a fairly accurate description of some of the less virtuous citadel lords. :D Those would be cast as antagonists, as examples of corruption that needs to be weeded from the Order. While the skyward realms may not be able to eradicate banditry, no one really can. They do hunt them down though. Also: having a squad of paragons riding to your aid is a pretty damn welcome sight whenever a godzilla-sized monster comes a-tromping.

Quote from: sparkletwist
It feels like a giant and mostly useless bureaucracy, and player characters-- who are going to want to be movers and shakers, especially in a setting like this!-- are supposed to be entrenched in it and loyal to it from childhood. Contrast this to Exalted, where the Dragon-Blooded and the Sidereals are the ones who had been running the ship of state aground, while in contrast the player characters were (originally) supposed to be Solar Exalted coming back to shake things up. There doesn't seem to be a similar way for players to shake things up in Paragon, especially with the strong disincentive to go against the Paragon Order.

Since we're drawing comparisons to Exalted, I did kind of envision paragons as somewhat similar to first age solars (before they all turned into egotistic aholes), but politically divided and living in a points-of-light setting instead of a unified empire. It is a fair point that paragon PCs can't shake things up as much as second age solars. On the other hand, the whole world isn't out to burn them at stake either. They have a strong home base that shields them, and that's where their loyalties lie. Adventure is to be had out there, in the world of vices and strife and monsters -- or even in the homeland when it happens that trouble creeps in. It's definitely geared toward a module-based format, with the PCs assumed to be a closely bound group (disciples under the same master) who are sent on missions (the master conveniently acts as a quest-giver; paragon PCs should never have to start their adventure by meeting in a tavern!) While the mission itself is handed out like this, the characters are effectively on their own until they return to report back, having a great deal of freedom in choosing how they approach the problem. And of course there can be complications, personal side-quests, emergency situations that require PCs to act against their orders, etc. The master character isn't intended to be a GMPC or a straitjacket, but something that gets the ball rolling.

A conflict between a character's personal goals and their duties could also be a very interesting opportunity for role playing and drama, as long as it's handled in a manner that doesn't disrupt the game.

Quote from: sparkletwist
I wanted to like this. I really did. I still do dig the premise, and the imagery conjured is pretty awesome. However, it seems like it has some real problems trying to give it any thought as anything other than a fun little beer and pretzels game where you go out there and bash monsters with a magic sword-- and you've done enough cool world-building it seems a shame to reduce this game to that.

I hope you can still find some merit in the setting despite it containing elements you're less excited about. :) I think reading your review was valuable and helped me to look at my stuff from a different POV.

Quote from: GhostmanWhat makes paragon paths feel more restrictive than races in other RPG settings? Both are something outside a character's own choise, both provide benefits that boost the character's potential at specific activities above that of other characters. Is it simply because races are a traditional element that we're accustomed to accepting?

I didn't really see paragon paths as an analogy to race. Rather, I saw them as an analogy to class, which usually is less deterministic even in-setting. Perhaps this is just me being too modern about things, but the idea of a society where your occupation is basically inborn leads me to think of extremely rigid societies, caste systems, and other ugliness from real history, and colors the world of Paragon negatively to me. I still get the feeling that things are pretty oppressively deterministic, because your replies seem to more or less agree with that idea-- no, you don't have to be a paragon, you can go be a peasant instead, which isn't really much of a choice at all.

Quote from: GhostmanObi-wan to Luke

The thing about Luke is that he kind of came out of the middle of nowhere, though. I mean, it's not quite applicable because the classic Star Wars trilogy takes place during a time when the Jedi are no longer an organized entity, but the idea of the student from the middle of nowhere being trained by the reclusive retired master and then going out on his own to adventure seems like it can't happen in this setting. It's all too entrenched in the social fabric for that.

Quote from: GhostmanI don't know if you meant quite this by an unlikely hero, but there are a few children born to ordinary human parents that possess the gift to become paragons.

No, that isn't what I meant, because it's still inborn, and presumably that child is still taken and taught in the usual fashion. The roots are different but the path is still the same. What I meant was the idea that someone would spontaneously become a paragon, or at least develop the abilities of one, with great power and not much of an idea how to use that power. In D&D terms, a sorcerer rather than a wizard.

One very fun Asura campaign I ran had one PC that was a member of the old nobility, born and bred to his position, educated in how to use his power, and all of that. Another PC, though, had just been a nomadic wanderer belonging to an underclass, and it was only due to luck/chance/fate/whatever that he became an Asura; he had no idea, at least initially, what to do with that power, and was very scared and confused. The other one became a sort of mentor and teacher, and the contrast between the two of them made for a good dynamic in the party. It seems like that kind of dynamic can't really happen in this game, and that's a bit disappointing to me.

Quote from: GhostmanSince we're drawing comparisons to Exalted, I did kind of envision paragons as somewhat similar to first age solars (before they all turned into egotistic aholes), but politically divided and living in a points-of-light setting instead of a unified empire.

The biggest analogy in Exalted I saw was to the Dragon-Blooded. The first age Solars had a lot more going for them, and they seemed more like the Paragon Order before everything went to crap. Perhaps I'm just misinterpreting the setting, or perhaps I'm too eager to play the hero who saves the world rather than works within the system, but the Paragon Order still seems pretty rotten at the present time. It's fragmented, there is plenty of corruption, and different factions go to war with each other at times. So for that to be the only option to have a viable PC and to have going rogue be this unfathomable thing just doesn't click well with me. (I guess it's a matter of degrees, too. If enough Paragons go rogue at the same time, then they're forming their own faction instead...)

Quote from: GhostmanI hope you can still find some merit in the setting despite it containing elements you're less excited about.

Oh, definitely. I still like a lot of the imagery and such, and I could still have a lot of fun playing it as an "adventure path" sort of game where the basic premise is "you go on the mission and do it" rather than as a more open-ended campaign.

Quote from: Pandemonium
Pandemonium is a hidden realm of disembodied spirits collectively called demons. It is not actually separate from the phenomenal world, merely an aspect of it that is imperceptible to the senses of mankind -- but only partially imperceptible to paragons, for they do possess some ability to sense the presense of unmanifested demons. Thus pandemonium isn't elsewhere, it's everywhere. Although it may seem otherwordly to the ignorant, people live within it just as surely as a blind man lives in the same world with those bearing the gift of vision. Gods and many kinds of monsters perceive pandemonium with the same clarity as they do the phenomenal world and may interact with it at will.

Quote from: Demons
Demons are spiritual entities that inhabit pandemonium in uncountable numbers. As disembodied spirits they normally fall beyond the scope of human perception. Paragons can sense their presense in a vague, ambiguous manner, but even they have trouble interacting with them without actively leveraging their dynama powers. Demons sometimes intrude upon the phenomenal world by possessing people or objects, or by manifesting tangible avatars for themselves. Few generalizations can be made about demons, as they occupy a wide spectrum in terms of capabilities and disposition. An unknown demon is as likely to be hostile as it is to be indifferent or friendly.

Some demons have multiple forms that they can transform into in a sequence, each one successively more powerful. If faced in combat, the forms have to be defeated in order, as each defeat triggers a transformation to the next form. The fight can not be won until the demon's ultimate form is defeated.

Quote from: Eidolons
While pandemonium exists beyond the conscious awareness of ordinary people, it nevertheless touches all souls, from the lowliest beggars to the mightiest kings. Every human being casts an impression upon pandemonium, a kind of spiritual shadow or reflection. From this impression is born a peculiar type of demon known as an eidolon -- a character's own personal demon that invisibly accompanies him throughout the course of his life. An eidolon reflects the innermost aspirations, dispositions, vices and strengths of it's charge.

Paragons, as champions of moral and spiritual strength among mankind, naturally beget exceptionally powerful eidolons. Unlike mundanes they are also aware of and consciously attuned to their personal demons, and sometimes commune with them in lucid dreams. A paragon's relationship with his eidolon deepens as the character grows in power and increases his understanding of preternatural mysteries: the eidolon gains levels along with the character. Characteristics of a eidolon influence a character's stats, and the character may also call upon his eidolon to boost his abilities. Most paragons are at harmony with their eidolons, but in some rare cases conflict arises. A wrathful eidolon might attempt to possess it's charge.

Some paragons learn how to summon their eidolons, allowing them to manifest as formidable battle avatars in the phenomenal world. The act of summoning is swift and impressive: the paragon calls out his eidolon, and the colossal form of the demon materializes behind or beside him. The eidolon intrinsically knows the will of it's charge and needs not be given any commands. It's avatar is vitally linked with the psyche of it's ward. When the eidolon is struck in combat, the paragon shares it's pain.

Assorted monsters:

Quote from: Tripods
Many species of three-legged creatures that grow to towering heights. Their bodies, concealed within spiraled mollusc shells, stand on extremely long, thin legs. Their antennae-eyes and circular mouths are located on the underside of the shell, and they extend retractable tentacles to tear foliage off trees and bushes to feed on. Being social herd animals that form into sizeable flocks, tripods communicate by emitting loud, long-winding moans that can be heard across great distances -- a noise strangely pleasing to human ears that is referred to as tripodic "singing". They are peaceful herbivores but very dangerous when scared into a stampede; a single kick from one's leg can easily kill a man. Although tripods cannot be bred in captivity, members of some tripod species can be tamed when captured from the wilds at a young age. Tamed tripods can be trained to serve as mounts and fitted with riding baskets to carry a small number of people, depending on the size of the animal.

Quote from: Tlacs
Dangerous insectoid predators that resemble huge fleas. Tlacs are extremely fast and agile, hopping and leaping on their powerful hind legs. They lurk in deep forests where they prey upon warm-blooded animals, including any humans that venture onto their hunting trails. Tlacs usually attack from ambush, emitting mind-addling pheromones that lull the prey into a narcotic stupor. Humans that succumb to this attack tend to experience hallucinations, completely unaware of the approaching monster. Having thusly ensnared it's victim, the loathsome creature climbs on it's back and sinks a piercing proboscis into it's flesh, hungrily sucking it's blood. It is not uncommon for several tlacs to latch upon the same prey, draining it dead.

Quote from: Ghidras
Strange creatures that very vaguely resemble giant-sized turtles or hedgehogs. Their bodies are protected by a hard testudine shell, covered in large ceratinous spikes. The bald head of a ghidra is vulturine, featuring a curved beak and three eyes, on a long flexible neck that can be retracted entirely within the shell. It's underbelly is covered in a clawing mass of very short, single-toed legs. Ghidras are rarely encountered and little is known about their ways. When threatened they exhale clouds of poisonous fumes that are very potent.

Quote from: Gaun-gauns
Horse-sized lizards with bulky bodies, proportionally small heads and stubbed tails. Their legs are short and located on the sides, barely lifting the creature's belly off the ground. Although domesticated, gaun-gauns are notoriously stubborn, ill-natured and lazy, requiring active prodding and goading from their handlers. They are the most common manner of a beast of burden in the world, used for plowing fields and drawing carts -- they are slow moving but very strong and durable. When angered a gaun-gaun will spit spraying bursts of irritating, mildly acidic saliva. While this doesn't inflict injury, it can be painful and temporarily render a person effectively blind; handlers usually wear face-covering veils when working with these beasts.

Quote from: Andoos
Flying, fire-breathing monsters tamed and bred as ferocious war-mounts. An andoo has a feline body with a tufted tail, powerful clawed paws, and spotted or striped fur. The ears are large, long and pointy. A pair of huge leathery wings sprout from it's shoulders, allowing it to fly. It can bear a rider on it's back, and easily learns many tricks and stunts. An andoo's clawing attacks are formidable, but even more powerful is it's incinerating fiery breath. They are quite picky about their riders and will only obey those displaying strong will and charisma.

Quote from: Behemoths
A collective name for various kinds of sky-scrapingly huge monsters. Behemoths are so incredibly massive that they might flatten entire towns just by passing through them. They cannot be combated by normal means, but their colossal bodies do usually have some weak spots that can be assaulted by heroes "boarding" the monster and climbing up it's enormous bulk.

Quote from: Saurials
Many species of feathered reptiles that roam the plains and forests of the world. Some of them have been tamed.

Cronths: Large hulking saurial predators. They have crocodilean heads with powerful jaws lined with serrated teeth, sturdy muscular bodies standing tall on strong clawed legs, and lashing spiked tails. They are coated in hard scales but the ridges of their backs are crested with large feathers. Ravenous beasts inhabiting sparse forests and verdant savanna, they hunt large herbivores by lying in wait near watering holes and outrunning the prey in a surprise charge. They are aggressively territorial and prone to attack humans that venture too near. Paragons consider them suitably prestigious game for sport hunting, taking their tail spikes and crest plumes as trophies.

Zeethas: A breed of bipedal saurials that has been domesticated to be bred and raised in stables. They are the most common type of animal being used as mounts for riders. Their bodies are long and slender, with lengthy tails and craning necks. They have draconic heads crowned with small horn-stubs, powerful hind legs equipped with sharp talons, and small forelimbs. Their plumage covers most of their bodies and occurs in a variety of different colors and patterns. Zeethas are omnivorous but cannot subsist very long on grazing alone. They are quite intelligent as animals go and rather sociable, often forming faithful bonds with their riders. Swift and agile runners, they also possess sufficient endurance for long journeys. They can jump over and across wide obstacles but are poor swimmers.

Chitties: Small saurials, about the size of a hedgehog. They are completely domesticated and are favoured as pets due to their affectionable nature and cute appearance. A chittie has a plump, roundish body completely covered in thick fluff. It's head is a bit like that of a tortoise, with a flatter face and large eyes. It stands on four slender birdlike legs and has a short stubby tail. Despite looking like fuzzy fluffballs, chitties are remarkably quick and agile, capable of sudden lightning sprints, high leaps, and climbing up sheer walls. They emit chirping and squeaking noises, especially when exited, and can be taught many tricks. Treated well they grow very attached to their owners and can be dramatically loyal. Chitties have fairly long lifespans, up to several years or more. Their diet consists primarily of bugs, spiders and other small vermin, so their presense in a home helps keep it clean of pests.

Quote from: Folk Religion
Even before the fall of the empyreans, the primitive tribes of mankind engaged in many religious practices: they sang poetic legends about heroes and gods, laid their dead to rest with rites of mourning and remembrance, watched for omens of good or ill fortune in the stars and in the clouds and the in flight of birds, and they besought the gods for safety from the perils of famine and sickness and the terrors of the night. These variegated traditions continue to be observed by the sedentary villagers and city-dwellers of the present era. This mosaic of beliefs, rituals and taboos is collectively called folk religion by learned sages, although it has no definite form or consistency. Each tribe follows it's own set of ancestral ways, similar yet not quite the same as those of other tribes. Folk religion is essentially illiterate, being passed down orally. It is also unorganized. In city states the ruling monarch is also considered to be a kind of high priest, responsible for maintaining the temple mound and performing rituals on behalf of the entire population.

Quote from: Idolatry
Although different varieties of gods, legends, festivals, rites and taboos are found among different tribes, countries, villages and cities (often with plenty of overlap with each other), there are some aspects of the folk religion that are virtually universal. One of these is the practice of idolatry. Sacred images of sculpted stone or wood are created to act as avatars of local deities, and sanctums are erected to house them amidst a wealth of luxuriant furnishings and offerings. Idols of common deities such as those of rivers, lakes, hills, crossroads or bridges are generally placed into small shrines built next to these places.

Every city also has a dedicated guardian god, often the town's namesake, whose majestic idol is seated on an ornate throne within a lavish temple built atop a ziggurat or other kind of temple mound, placing it nearer the heavens. Large public festivals are held in veneration of these guardian deities, with ceremonies conducted by the reigning priest-king. Whether great or minor, an idol is always the primary medium through which people should approach a deity -- for it is not a mere symbol or representation, being actually the god itself, made manifest in substantial form. Thus to worship an idol is to worship the god in question in the most direct of ways.

The smallest and most numerous idols are those that represent the innumerable, nameless deities of good fortune and protection. These miniature idols are small and light enough to be carried in a bag or a reed basket. They are commonly kept in households to bestow prosperity and ward against evils. Travelers that have to risk the dangers of the long road or the wilderness often bring personal idols along to guide and protect them on their journey.

(https://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/thumb/9/92/Beterfigur_Liebieghaus_1453.jpg/150px-Beterfigur_Liebieghaus_1453.jpg) (https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Beterfigur_Liebieghaus_1453.jpg)

Quote from: Empyrean Mysteries
Before their extinction empyreans imparted a plethora of wisdom upon the paragons, who have preserved it and propagated it to their tribesmen. The teachings of the empyreans are concerned with lofty cosmic mysteries, but they also discuss more familiar matters such as questions about life and death, ethics, edification, and a person's place in the world. They also guide toward a particular way of life as a means of achieving harmony and spiritual fulfillment. During the prime of the Paragon Order these 'empyrean mysteries' came to be revered as sacred knowledge and gradually developed into a religion that overlaps and blends with the myriad ethnic sects of folk religion. This newer religion is quite different from the multifarious traditions that precede it, featuring an organized priesthood of sorts in the ranks of the Paragon Order, as well as a corpus of religious texts known as the enigmata. Although the mysteries are universal, the isolation of the skyward realms due to the shutdown of the exgates has caused it's division into sects with subtle differences in interpretation.

Ordinary people and paragons approach this religion in very different manner. The former simply try to live according to prescribed directions to ease their passage through life and on to the afterlife, and frequently ask paragons to bless their crops and their houses and to recite enigmata for good fortune. Being illiterate, simple folk living in a harsh world of manual labour, they cannot hope to grasp the esoteric depths of the empyrean mysteries. Paragons, on the other hand, are something like a priesthood. The study of the empyreans' legacy is an integral part of their training, and their rise through the ranks of the order involves initiation into gradually deeper tiers of the mysteries. To them this religion is a contemplative journey on a path of spiritual self-improvement.

Quote from: The Enigmata
After their fall from heaven, the empyreans found that their minds could no longer fully contain the sublime wisdom and insight they had possessed while in the celestial world. In order to preserve as much of it as they could they created 12 sacred texts, recorded on golden tablets. Each of these texts (known as an enigma) is very long, written in poetic form, and inherently magical. Enigmata are akin to incredibly complex riddles, containing layers upon layers of hidden meanings and revelations that must be discovered by reading between the verses. The wisdom to be found in these texts is so abundant and deep that an astute sage could spend a lifetime in contemplation of merely a single enigma, yet fall short of fully mastering all of it's mysteries.

The golden tablets, now scattered amongst the skyward realms or lost during the chaos after the exgates' malfunctioning, are miraculous artifacts that are treated with utmost reverence. Merely standing in the presense of an enigma tablet instills one with a stirring religious experience, while listening to a ceremonial recital of the verses might trigger a trance-like state filled with powerful visions and epiphanies. Being in possession of one or more of these tablets bestowes good fortune and safety upon an entire kingdom.

Copies of the enigmata texts exist, penned on scrolls of vellum of the highest quality. They are considered to be lesser artifacts and, while much more commonplace, are still very limited in number. Such scrolls can only be created by copying directly from the original golden tablet, and the scribing itself is a complicated ritual action. The entire length of the text has to be scribed in a single sitting, without pauses or distractions. Careful rituals of purification precede the attempt, and prayers must be chanted while the scribe works. The recording begins at sunrise and finishes at sunset - regardless of the text in question it always takes excatly that long. There is no room for errors; the slightest slip of the scribe's quill invalidates the entire work and the imperfect scroll disintegrates. Every attempt to produce further copies off one of these scrolls fails.

Enigmata scrolls are read in a ceremonial fashion, the reader solemnly reciting the text from beginning to end while the audience sits in a semicircle before him. Incense is burned during the ceremony, which begins and ends with everyone present prostrating themselves in the direction of the holy scroll. Where a scroll is not available, a subordinate variation of the reading ceremony can be performed by reciting the verses from memory -- provided that the paragon performing the ceremony has flawlessly memorized the entire text.

Quote from: The Scourge
The empyrean mysteries teach that everything within the universe should have a natural place and purpose, a role to play in the grand course of events. The abstruse calamity named the Scourge subverts this teaching, for it is a true abomination: a detestable ethereal blight fundamentally inimical to the universe and it's denizens. It is an anomaly, a cosmic paradox, something that should not be and that does not belong. Amorphous and intangible, it spreads throughout the world like a disease, warping and defiling all the things it infects, hungrily gnawing at the very foundations of cosmic order. To people that fall victim to it's contaminating presense the Scourge is akin to spiritual poison -- a corruption of the soul that slowly deprives them of their humanity and drives them to madness.

Distressingly little is known about the Scourge. It is driven by an awful hunger to consume, pervert and atrophy, but often does so in seemingly irrational and erratic ways. It's mind -- if it even has one, or more -- must be thoroughly inscrutable. As a nebulous entity devoid of any kind of identifiable form in flesh or spirit, it cannot be directly assaulted or bargained with. Fortunately the calamity has never manifested in large scale anywhere, all of it's appearances so far limited to isolated incidents.

Any kind of contact with the Scourge is intrinsically dangerous to humans, including the mere condition of possessing knowledge about it. When you become aware of the Scourge, the Scourge also becomes aware of you, and it might decide to reach out and nibble at your tasty soul. It's unclean probings can be held back by determined force of will, which is why paragons stand the best chance of resisting contagion. Ordinary people, being comparatively feeble-minded, are far more vulnerable. This is why all lore concerning the Scourge is treated as forbidden knowledge, to be trusted only to paragons that have been initiated into the Order. To be sure, even most paragons know only the bare minimum that is needed to prepare them to fight against outbreaks of the Scourge, with more detailed information being trusted to select few specialists.

Despite it's terrifying inclinations, the Scourge isn't actually a malevolent entity, it is merely amoral and alien -- an impersonal force of un-nature completely beyond mortal concepts of morality. That it's interaction with mankind is inevitably harrowing for the latter does not concern it in the slightest.

Quote from: The Fallen
Once it has taken root in the heart of a man, the Scourge will wax and fester until it overwhelms all remaining resistance. The infected is transformed into an inhuman madman, forever in thrall of the accursed power. These minions are driven to depraved acts of atrocity, inflicting terror and despair that feed the Scourge. There is no cure to the vile madness that plagues the fallen, no escape from their doom. Even in death they cannot find salvation, for their souls are consumed by the malady.

Fallen often manage to retain enough sanity to walk secretly among men, committing their loathsome deeds in the dark of night. They are wicked murderers, blood-witches and cultists. Some are degenerated to such depths that they cannot infiltrate human society, reduced to prowling the wilderness like feral beasts. Over time even their bodies of flesh and bones begin to subtly transmogrify, becoming monstrous in ways that aren't usually readily apparent. Each case is unique and unpredictable -- a particular fallen might have no pulse or blood, another one's veins are filled with a black corrosive fluid that burns everything it touches, yet another is able to remove and reattach his head, while others might have squirming fiendish parasites in place of their internal organs. Some rare cases have obvious, unconcealable mutations.

Some fallen learn to call upon the Scourge to fuel feats of dark sorcery. Given enough time to hone their despicable craft, these vile warlocks can grow powerful enough to pose a serious threat even to paragons.

Quote from: The Forsaken
While ordinary people are more likely to be infected by the Scourge and transformed into it's slavering pawns, paragons are not immune. The Scourge senses the puissant power they possess, delectable treats for it's insatiable hunger. Like a siren it calls upon paragons, enticing and tempting them. Those who willingly embrace it's tainted touch are endowed with an aberrant power that burns restlessly within them, even as their paragon abilities are contaminated and warped. They become forsaken -- agents of calamity, twisted perversions of the heroes they once were.

Freed from the bounds of morality and duty, the forsaken believe themselves to be masters of their own destinies, but that is just a delusion born from their madness. They think that they use the Scourge, when in fact it is the Scourge that uses them. As the Scourge flows through them, they find that they can gain strength by committing actions that please it. This presents a quick way to gain power, a shortcut that beckons to the impatient and the ambitious.

The forsaken might be the most dangerous enemies that paragons will ever face, able to match and even surpass them in martial and magical power. As bringers of chaos and destroyers of harmony, they stand opposed to the beliefs of the Paragon Order. Thus violent conflict between the forsaken and paragons is inevitable; where ever the two meet, blades are drawn and blood is spilled.

Quote from: Wealth and Treasure
Paragon characters acquire valuable items and other material wealth in a very different manner than most traditional RPG characters.

No Shopping
There is no money. The world is still in early stages of civilization, so money has simply not been invented yet. Trade has to be conducted through bartering or an informal credit system (in a small village where everyone knows each other, people can exchange goods and labour for debt that will be paid later). Secondly, there are no markets and shops to buy and sell things at -- the citadels and the city-states all practice a centralized palace economy, wherein the goods produced by the population are collected, recorded and stored in the palace, and later redistributed according to needs. Taxes are collected in the form of labour, wherein peasants are required to spend a fixed number of days every year participating in the construction or maintenance of public works such as roads, monuments, temples and irrigation canals.

Rewards
Paragons acquire most of their equipment and goods from their superiors. Their basic needs of housing, clothing and foodstuffs are provided by their citadel lord, along with enough provisions to support the servants of their households. Valuable items such as fine clothing, works of art, cosmetics, jewelry, talismans, miniature idols, mounts and skilled personal servants can be gained as rewards for successful service, awarded by the paragon's master or by his citadel lord. Inheritance from relatives is another way to gain material wealth. Should a paragon require some specific equipment to perform his duties then he need only to request it from his master, and if deemed necessary this equipment will be provided from the citadel's stockpiles.

Gifts and Favours
While provisions, rewards and inheritance may provide everything one needs, they rarely provide everything one desires. For this reason paragons engage with their peers in a prestige-based exchange of gifts and counter-gifts, a baroque game wherein items and favours are given and owed. Thus wealth and goods are circulated, the participant's reputations are bolstered, and social ties are strengthened. It works because everyone involved must maintain a respectable standing in the eyes of their peers: selfish freeloaders who only take and never give are quickly discredited, losing face and cast out of the system.

Plunder
When undertaking missions away from home, paragons may occasionally find an opportunity to seize treasure guarded by monsters or loot valuable items from captured or slain enemies. Such wealth is usually less significant than what they've already gained from other sources, but may include rare items that aren't available through other avenues.

Charity
Since paragon culture values the spiritual over the material, it discourages amassing excess wealth. There is a strong social expectation that paragons engage in charity according to their means -- giving alms to the poor, making offerings in temples, contributing to relief and rebuilding efforts after earthquakes and floods, etc. Blatant avarice is ignominious and results in severe loss of social status -- which in the absense of market economy can be more disadvantageous than a loss of wealth would be.

Quote from: GhostmanThere is no money. The world is still in early stages of civilization, so money has simply not been invented yet. Trade has to be conducted through bartering or an informal credit system (in a small village where everyone knows each other, people can exchange goods and labour for debt that will be paid later).

You may already be aware of this, but as far as anthropologists and archaeologists can figure out, barter economies didn't actually precede currency, as philosophers and economists from Aristotle to Adam Smith once used to postulate. Barter economies have existed, but they usually develop after a currency collapses or as a kind of temporary measure between societies with very disparate economic structures and/or no shared language. Actual pre-money economies were more like gift economies, though the term "gift" is a misnomer. Your example of village credit sounds very plausible.

I'm somewhat sceptical as to whether empire-building and the complex feudal system you describe could develop without some form of money, even if it's not metal coinage. I wonder whether somewhere like the Aztec Empire (where cacao beans and cotton cloth formed the major units of exchange) or ancient China (where cowrie shells, jade, knives, and various other local currencies preceded bronze coins) might be useful models if you want to forgo formal coinage.

Quote from: SteerpikeYou may already be aware of this, but as far as anthropologists and archaeologists can figure out, barter economies didn't actually precede currency, as philosophers and economists from Aristotle to Adam Smith once used to postulate. Barter economies have existed, but they usually develop after a currency collapses or as a kind of temporary measure between societies with very disparate economic structures and/or no shared language. Actual pre-money economies were more like gift economies, though the term "gift" is a misnomer. Your example of village credit sounds very plausible.

I'm somewhat sceptical as to whether empire-building and the complex feudal system you describe could develop without some form of money, even if it's not metal coinage. I wonder whether somewhere like the Aztec Empire (where cacao beans and cotton cloth formed the major units of exchange) or ancient China (where cowrie shells, jade, knives, and various other local currencies preceded bronze coins) might be useful models if you want to forgo formal coinage.

There's always raw materials that can be weighted (salt, precious metals, etc) and thus used to make exchanges. Those would be relevant to any kind of "international" trade (what would be negotiated or coerced deals between citadel lords and priest kings) but too rare and valuable to be of any practical benefit to ordinary people. If the lower classes are going to have anything approaching a standard medium of exchange, it might be livestock.

Quote from: Promises and Oaths
Among all the tribes of mankind, keeping your word is considered to be a virtue of profound importance. This is not merely a prevalent cultural attitude; the concept of sincerity exists beyond the frames of fickle human morality, extending deep into the realm of the mystical. Even simple promises invoke a subtle power that can have very real consequences to their makers. Thus when ever people have promised to do something, they tend to go to great lengths in order to stay true to their words. Should that prove to be impossible, heartfelt apologies are offered and purifying rites conducted to ward off misfortune.

The ritual act of swearing oaths takes this principle up to an altogether different level. Oaths must be kept, to the letter. There are no exceptions and no excuses; a person who swears an oath is thereafter mystically bound to uphold it. Even if circumstances beyond the character's control render following the oath impossible, the character suffers full and unmitigated consequences of becoming an oath breaker. Oaths are always sworn ceremonially at dawn under naked sky, facing the rising sun. The words invoke several deities to witness the avowal and bind the swearer by name, blood and honor. Paragons customarily swear their oaths in a kneeling position, holding their sheathed sword before them upright with both hands, the tip of the scabbard resting on the ground.

Oath-taking can be used in diplomacy as a means to strengthen agreements. For example, a king might assent to release valuable hostages so that they may attend the funeral of their relative, on the insurance of having them swear oaths to return to their captor. Every paragon swears one particular oath, if nothing more: the oath of loyalty to their master.

Quote from: Servants
Most paragons are accompanied by one or two personal servants that take care of various mundane tasks: delivering messages, fetching items, tending to mounts, laundering, pitching tents and so on. They are more skilled and mindful than a typical peasant, but are nevertheless just simple workers. They do not participate in combat and cannot offer any useful advice. These attendants are provided by the citadel at no cost, but the paragon is expected to keep them out of harm's way and to treat them fairly -- if they end up dead or run away, replacements may not be provided until after awhile. For a paragon to perform the sort of work normally delegated to servants can be a humiliating experience that few would risk by abusing their attendants. Some paragons have larger retinues of followers that include specialists with desirable abilities, such as scribes, navigators, lookouts, trackers, surgeons, mahouts, jesters or dancing girls.

Quote from: Redbands
While paragons are mighty warriors superior to ordinary human beings in martial prowess, there are many times they will welcome assistance from lesser warriors. Sometimes the situation calls for a weight of numbers that a small party of paragons cannot provide on their own. Other times they may have to deal with foes that are beneath their notice, yet too stupid or stubborn to surrender in face of overwhelming odds. For such reasons paragons occasionally ride with a company of ordinary soldiers: a detachment from the citadel guard of the skyward realm.

These troopers are not professional soldiers, they are merely a militia guard formed from farmers and craftsmen that partake in seasonal drills and are ready to be mobilized when ever a war or brigandage befalls the realm. They are usually armed with bows and arrows or shields and melee weapons of modest quality. They don't wear uniforms but are distinguished by red-dyed headbands issued by the citadel, a badge that has made them commonly known as "redbands". When attached to a party of paragons, a company of citadel guards may either be placed under a single paragon commander, or divided to smaller squads among them.

Quote from: Honorable Combat
Conflicts of interest and tragic feuds sometimes lead to paragons from different skyward realms facing each other in battle. In order to moderate the violence resulting from such confrontations and to prevent the conflict's escalation, paragons observe common rules of honorable combat. Failure to follow them results in loss of face and possibly other consequences.

According to these rules, a battle should never be started without a proper proclamation of challenge. A paragon who challenges another must always announce their name and allegiance, stating their intent to attack. One who is challenged in the proper manner must likewise declare their identity. Both sides should at all times address each other politely and refrain from unjustified insults.

Once battle is joined, all combatants are given the right of quarter, whereby those who surrender are to be spared and either taken captive or released, regardless of circumstances. A paragon who has surrendered in this manner may not attack their captor, even if an opportunity to do so arises. As long as captives make no attempt to escape or turn on their captors, they are to be treated with dignity according to their rank and provided with food and other necessities.

Should the two sides of a battle appear evenly matched, then either one may call for a truce. The call need not be agreed to, but if it is then both sides will be allowed to leave the field without shame, and with the assurance that they will not be pursued or attacked as they withdraw.

The rules of honorable combat do not apply in battles against renegades or the forsaken, although paragons may still feel inclined to adhere to some parts of them.

Quote from: Customs
While the earthbound kingdoms differ in their ways, the skyward realms follow mostly the same set of customs and manners, owing to their common past. All paragons are taught etiquette as part of their education, so they tend to be very polite.

Dining:
When beginning a meal, one is to pick up their dining bowl up with both hands and speak the customary words: "Eat well, live long." A shorter variant of "Live long!" exists, but is considered to be extremely casual and low class -- although still better than the outright barbarism of chowing down food without any kind of ceremony.

Greetings:
Ordinary people place their right hand (palm open) over their heart and bow slightly. Paragons supplement this gesture by making a salute with their sheathed sword -- holding it before themselves in an upright position, gripped in the left hand. The common phrase of greeting is "Peace and fortune."

Farewells:
The same gesture as when greeting is performed, but the parting phrase reverses the order of the words to "Fortune and peace." Sometimes it is replaced by a more formal phrase, holding a sense of finality: "May all your days be bright."

Apologising:
There are two common variations when it comes to offering apologies. The more typical is the phrase "A thousand pardons." The other case is rather extreme, reserved for occasions where a major offense has been done: "I am deeply ashamed!" Generally the person who speaks those words will be prostrating before the one being apologised to, their face planted on the floor.

Obeisance:
Paragons make obeisance to their masters and grand masters by kneeling. In this posture the paragon steps forward with their left leg and lowers their right knee onto the floor, placing their triarma (sword sheathed) to stand upright and point-down in front of themselves, both hands on it's handle, their head bowed such that the forehead touches the hilt.

Thanking:
A thankful person clasps the palms of their hands together, saying "You have my gratitude," or simply "My gratitude." A more general expression of gratefulness or relief, not directed at any person, is "Heavens be praised!" It is generally uttered in reaction to a stroke of good luck, especially when something disastrous was narrowly avoided.

Titles and Address:
When talking about anyone of master or grand master status, a paragon should refer to them as "master so-and-so", regardless of which skyward realm they belong to. When addressing one's own master, it's customary to simply call them "master". Non-paragons generally address paragons as "esteemed such-and-such", though this manner is only required of their underlings.

Introductions:
Paragons follow the form of stating their name, master, and citadel or skyward realm, in that order. Whenever one paragon reveals their identity to another one, the latter is obliged by honor to return the favour.

Clapping Hands:
Clapping of hands is commonly used as a signal to summon the servants. Two or three claps is sufficient.

I applaud you Ghostman. This work is very interesting. Do you think you might run a game in it at some point?

Thanks! :) Hopefully I can get the rules system tested and finished. Then if there's interest I might run some Paragon adventure scenarios.

Quote from: Of Insignia and Heraldry
Paragons do not wear uniforms, but they do find it convenient to display their standing within the Order. That is why they bear standard insignia in the form of engraved and colored emblems, usually worn attached to the golden scabbards or their triarma. An insignia identifies a paragon's citadel and rank, but not their name, path or master. A commissioned herald is known by a distinctive tassel decorating the hilt of their crystal sword.

It is considered vital to be able to recognize important and powerful people, including those one hasn't met before. Knowing who one is dealing with means knowing when not to take someone lightly. Thus, all paragons of every path are taught a basic proficiency in the skill of heraldry -- the art of knowing and recognizing people by insignia and memorized descriptions. While most paragons from foreign realms are of unknown character, those in prominent station and those who have garnered noteworthy reputations can usually be identified.

[ic=Picnic]

"Hurry up slowpokes, it's over there! Look, look!" Little Min's voice exudes adolescent enthusiam as she beckons her siblings. Standing on a grassy hilltop overlooking a valley ahead, the girl flails impatiently, hopping up and down. Soon her two brothers, Tondo and Parn, have caught up with her. Min's elder brother Tondo picks up Parn, the youngest of the trio, lifting him on his shoulders. Their eyes widen as they gape at the picturesque vista emerging before them.

Glistening under the hot-burning sun of early summer, a broad river slowly meanders across the bottom of a wide valley, feeding a maze of narrow irrigation canals that criscross plowed fields on the floodplain. Villages of clustered mudbrick huts and small patches of forest bespeckle a lansdcape that gradually curves up toward cedar-encrusted heights surrounding the valley. Copper-plated peaks of small pyramids poke out from amidst the foothills, gleaming red in the sunlight. The wings of lonely windmills slowly turn in the warm summer breeze. Flocks of purple-feathered zikka birds flutter over the fields, kept at bay by the noise of brass wind-chimes fitted on scarecrows. Herds of grazing tripods wander near the outskirts of the farmlands, their tentacles hungrily reaching for the foliage of trees.

High above the valley looms the skyward realm of Lantaforna, a great island of yellow-brown rock covered in the greens of grass and trees, floating majestically in the air, with a flock of smaller isles in steady orbit around it. On the main island the cyclopean fortress of the citadel bathes in light, it's perfectly smooth walls of glossy ocean-blue stone almost blindingly bright. Mounted messengers saddled on winged feline beasts are flying to and fro, making landings on a great balcony on the citadel's facade. The island's shadowed underside becomes illuminated by a golden beam of magical light as a lizard-drawn cart full of supplies is beamed up from the valley to Lantaforna. A small river snakes across the floating island's surface, cascading off it's edge to plummet down to the earth below. It raises up a cloud of billowing mist where it hits the ground, streaming thence to join the great river. A coruscant rainbow arcs before the waterfall.

"It's a rainbow!" exclaims little Parn. His sister seems just as delighted: "It looks so pretty from up here."

"Aw, we can't see our house from here. This hill isn't tall enough," complains Tondo, sounding mildly disappointed. The three kids, being born to the caste of paragons, live in a house upon the floating island. Although today Lantaforna hovers lower than usual, it is still too high up to spot buildings smaller than the citadel from their vantage point.

"Look! Boco-boco bugs!" Parn points at a group of creatures moving in the valley, childish laughter in his voice.

"Those are tripods, silly! They just look like boco-boco bugs 'cuz they're so far away." Min corrects him matter-of-factly, waving her finger in an exaggerated imitation of a scolding teacher.

Tondo chuckles at this and sets his younger brother on the ground. "All animals kinda look like boco-bocos from afar. Even people, too."

Their chatter is interrupted by a call coming from nearby, from the direction they'd ascended on the hilltop: "Come, children. It's time to eat."

"We're comin', granma, granpa!" utters Min, already spun round on her heels and making her way back down the hill. As always, she's the quickest among her siblings on the uptake. Her brothers race after her, and all three soon reach a level clearing on the hill's slope where await their grandparents Meea and Joran with a handful of servants in tow.

A large square blanket has been unrolled on a patch of grass, parasols erected by it to provide shade. Upon the blanket lay opened reed baskets and clay jars containing a variety of delicious foodstuffs: fresh fruits, nuts, dates, spiced dunehopper legs, dried fish and amphibians from the river, flatbread, boiled lizard eggs and yellow tigervine grapes. The servants, having finished their tasks, bow to the elderly couple and withdraw over by a copse of trees a stone's throw away, where their pack animals have been tethered.

Meea and Joran, both of them gray-haired and venerable, smile warmly as they regard their daughter's children. Having retired from their duties as paragons of the citadel of Lantaforna, they now find the time for idle distractions such as today's foray to the hills, whereas their daughter is kept away on a mission. While their own days of adventure are behind them, for their grandchildren such trials have yet to begin. That is why days like this are a precious thing: serene moments when the young can sit with the old and enjoy the simple joys of life, unburdened by the demands of duty and honor and the like.

"The food is ready now, so let us sit down and eat before it spoils," Meea murmurs.

"Yes, granma."

All five of them sit on cushions and pick up ceramic bowls. The children hasten to fill theirs with their favourite treats. Once everyone's ready, old Joran raises his bowl and the others follow suit. "Eat well, live long," says everyone in unison, and the servants repeat the dining phrase, enjoying their own meals in the shade of trees. Wind rustles the leaves and the pack animals neigh quietly.

Meea reminisces with her husband while their grandchildren are digging in the food: "This brings back such pleasant memories, doesn't it, dear?" Joran nods. "It sure does. It was on this very hill that I proposed to you, after all." A tinge of nostalgia resounds in his venerable voice as he recalls days past so long ago. "Although I was being dispatched on a long distance scouting mission to uncharted lands the following day, with no idea when -or if- I'd return, you still said yes." She smiles at his words and leans on to him, savouring this moment of peaceful tranquility.

With their bowls emptied and their bellies full, the kids and their grandparents rest on their cushions. The summer breeze brushes by gently, and bugs are making chirring noises in the thickets. Little Min, lying on her back, is startled when a shadow suddenly glides across her face. She jumps up and points at the sky. "A dragon! Many dragons!" she cries out surprisedly.

Everyone turns to look. A flight of dragons is soaring across the sky, their slender serpentine bodies snaking like banners in gusty wind. The magnificent creatures are bearing straddled figures on their backs, one on each, though they could easily carry plenty more. Despite having no wings they fly with the speed and grace of noble birds of prey.

"Dragon riders. When I pass my paragon examination I'm going to become a dragon rider too!" the eldest child Tondo declares with a surprising force of determination in his voice. He even tries to strike a badass pose, but ends up looking a little silly.

"As if~!" rebuts Min teasingly. "Only the best acolytes get to be dragon riders. A slacker like you'd never make it~!"

"I'll become one of them without fail! You'll see!" Tondo barks back at his sister, who retaliates by grinning and sticking her tongue out.

Granpa Joran interjects, halting the siblings' quarrel. "Now now, you two. No acolyte is ever made straight into a dragon rider. It takes a lot of practice and many accomplishments to prove one is worthy of such a noble mount." He pats his boastful grandson on the head, ruffling his hair. "Tondo, if you are determined to ride a dragon one day, then you'll need to work hard and do your very best. That's the way you'll see your dream fulfilled," he says in a gently lessoning tone. Young Tondo nods. "Even if it'll take a long time I'll give it my all, and I'll keep on trying."

They all gather on the hilltop to watch as the dragon riders cross the valley and fly off to the horizon.

[/ic]

Quote from: The Wheel of Time

The Dawn of Man: The hermaphroditic First Men are spawned from the life-giving rain in the beginning of the world. They solitarily beget a host of offspring, which are become the tribes of mankind. Knowing nothing of civilization they find their living off the wild-growing plants and the roaming beasts, scattering to the four winds as they spread out to populate the earth.

War in the Heavens: A cloud of black smoke blankets the sky, alight with thunder and raining down ash, as celestial spirits make bitter war upon each other. The upheaval rages on for countless generations, devastating the world. The tribes of mankind are driven from their pastures and hunting lands, seeking shelter in caves.

Thousand Years of Terror: Reptites, a chthonic race of hairless lepidote sorcerers with venomous fangs and forked tongues emerge from the bowels of the earth, wielding diabolic magics and erecting twisted towers of mucous stone. They revel under the tainted sky, conducting wicked rites in praise of their nameless gods. One after another the tribes of mankind are subjugated and enslaved under eldritch yoke, forced to bear endless hardships in servitude to their cruel reptite overlords.

The Night of Falling Stars: The war in the heavens ends in the defeat of the empyreans who are cast down, falling to earth in a monumental rain of fiery spheres that illuminates the sky and agitates the earth. The towers of the reptites shudder, their bloodstained altars fall over when mighty gales of a gigantic storm sweep across the world, clearing the skies before the rising sun that once again shines unobstructed upon the lands below.

Heavenly Seeds Blossom: Empyreans shed their obsidian wings, forevermore bound to walk the ground beneath their feet. Longing for the lost majesty of heaven, they use their powers to create the skyward realms: resplendent islands lifted high in the air, kept afloat by the magical citadels built upon them.

The Fell War: The reptites gaze enviously upon the wonders of the empyreans and soon come to clash with them, beginning a terrible war that spans millennia. They marshall armies of slave-soldiers and work foul sorceries, allying with mountain-devils and fell spirits, but the skyward realms stand firm against all attacks. To put an end to this bloodshed the empyreans conduct a plan to liberate the tribes of mankind from their slavery, forging an alliance with them. They select from among the humans the wisest and strongest and take them to the skyward realms, where they are infused with magical power and instructed in the arts of civilization and sorcery. With the aid of these uplifted soldiers -- the first paragons -- the Empyreans are finally able to destroy the reptites, albeit at extreme cost. Before being wiped off the face of the earth the fiends curse their foes, dooming the race of empyreans to a slow extinction.

The Passing of the Mantle: For centuries the empyreans continue to teach and protect their human disciples, even as their own numbers inexorably wane. They build the exgates, magical portals that enable nearly instantaneous travel across the longest of distances. As a final act of benevolence they create the citadel lords, exalted paragon rulers that act as magical vessels preserving fragments of the power and wisdom of the empyreans, so that it would not be completely lost. These citadel lords inherit the sovereignty over the skyward realms and form a council to lead the paragon order.

The Deluge: Heaven itself weeps for the passing of it's wayward children. Torrential rain pours down without pause, drowning the world in a great flood. People and animals take refuge on the skyward realms. Eventually the waters recede and life returns to earth.

Tribes Divided: At the command of the citadel lords, cities are founded along transportation routes formed by the network of exgates. These city-states, known as earthbound kingdoms, are colonized by those tribes that choose to submit to the overlordship of the citadel lords. They settle into a sedentary life, learning the crafts of tilling fields, weaving fabrics, and shaping clay into pottery. Those who refuse to relinguish their independence retreat into the wilderness, continuing their nomadic lifestyle as hunters and gatherers and herders of beasts.

A World of Balance: For a long time the world knows peace and prosperity. The earthbound kingdoms expand, growing ever larger. The skyward realms also flourish, fed by tribute from the lands below. Paragons enforce justice and contemplate on the mysteries of the universe.

A World of Chaos: Menace befalls the world, heralded by the dread omen of tenebrous cobwebs spun in the sky by the Cloud Spider. Cosmic balance is disrupted; monsters creep out of their lairs and trespass on the lands of mankind, while wickedness takes root in the hearts of people. Brigands and petty warlords ravage villages, preying upon the weak. Cabals of the fallen gather in secret, spreading the venomous corruption of the Scourge. The exgates slowly begin to malfunction or shut down entirely, leaving the earthbound kingdoms and the skyward realms isolated. Long distance communications cease, the power of the citadel lords is diminished, and the paragon order loses it's unity. Beyond the margins of civilization the nomadic tribes of wild men grow violently restless, gathering in vast hordes and abandoning their homelands, as if fleeing before some terrifying threat.

[ic=Level Up!]
On the snow-white, windswept summit of the holy mountain Iki-kuura stands an ancient monolith: a broad-faced obelisk of peculiar greenish-gray rock, three storeys tall and chiseled all over in geometric symbols. Despite it's immense age and constant exposure to the elements this monolith shows no signs of weather or wear; it's surface remains flawless and somehow untouched by ice and snow. The wind moans strangely as it flows past the obelisk, an eerie sound almost like singing. A haze of clouds surrounds the summit, partly obscuring the distant silhouettes of nether mountains.

Three figures draped in furs and thick capes of mammoth wool stoop in a kneeling posture before the towering obelisk, heads pressed on the hilts of their downright-held swords -- magical blades of crystal sheathed in golden scabbards.

"In peace we have come, Iki-kuura," one of them speaks.

"In peace receive us now, Iki-kuura," another one follows up.

"In peace we shall depart, Iki-kuura," the third figure concludes.

There is no response; the monolith looms silently in place while the cold wind howls, lashing and raining sleet upon the trio. Having ceremonially paid their respects for the god of the mountain, they all stand up.

One of them, a man named Seppo, casts off his cape, boldly embracing the montane chill and the gale. His face is that of one who seems wise beyond his years; old in spirit yet young in flesh. His long and wavy, silverly white hair flutters wildly in the wind as he turns to talk to his companions, a look of determination in his deep-blue eyes: "I'm ready. My friends, please be patient and watch over my rite of ascent."

"We'd wait till the end of the world for you, Seppo," declares Unto, a swarthy and thick-bearded older man bearing a proud smile on his face.
"Come a storm or a million devils, we'll never break our vigil!" adds Iina, a red-haired woman with a scar across her forehead, a jubilant ring in her voice.

"You have my gratitude," Seppo says and nods to them, clasping the palms of his hands.

Then, turning his back on the obelisk, he closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. With the slightest of movement he suddenly leaps high up in the air, vaulting into a backflip and landing squarely on the top of the monument. Balancing on it's pointed tip on just one foot, he straightens himself to stand upright and assumes a ritual stance, raising his sheathed sword above his head, pointing it at the sky. Thusly poised he stands, looking more like a statue than a living person. An eldritch halo lights up around the golden scabbard, and a vortex of spiraling air begins to form in the cloudy sky above.

Unto and Iina stand silently and watch this spectacle unfolding before their eyes, a spectacle they've both experienced before -- as watchers as well as ascenders.

Time itself strays from it's steadfast course, venturing down strange and occult paths, as the sun now begins rapidly rising and setting and the stars speeding fast on their celestial pathways in what feels like mere moments to Seppo's companions standing vigil on the summit of Iki-kuura. The vortex in the clouds waxes, whirling faster and faster, and a barrage of cacophonous thunder erupts in it's depths. All throughout this Seppo remains frozen still, perched on the obelisk with his sword pointed up at the eye of the whirlwind. The orchestra of fulmination within that tempestuous vortex continues to build up. Suddenly, an immense bolt of lightning shoots downwards, striking the upheld sword with a booming thunderclap. Still maintaining his stance on top of the obelisk, Seppo is briefly engulfed in a luminescent aura. In a flash it fades away, and time resumes it's familiar flow. The heavenly vortex likewise calms down and dissipates.

"It is finished," Unto nonchalantly observes. "He has successfully ascended to a higher level of power."

"That's something worth some celebrating, isn't it? How about we scour the citadel's wine cellars and treat ourselves to the richest of feasts once we've made it back home from here," Iina chucklingly suggests.

"Sounds like a fine plan to me," Seppo agrees as he leaps down from the monolith, landing softly on his feet. He bears no signs of harm upon him, although a faint haze of steam rising off his body and a slight echo in his voice betray the influx of magical power that was jolted through him just moments ago.

Together the three companions begin their long trek down from Iki-kuura, leaving the ancient obelisk as they found it.

[/ic]

Quote from: The Rite of Ascent
Paragons are capable of growing in might and increasing their power levels. This is no mundane process, but rather a mystical transformation that elevates a paragon a step higher in the cosmic order of being -- something similar to a minor apotheosis. When a paragon is ready to increase his power level, he must perform a magical ritual known as a rite of ascent, which triggers the transformation. This ritual is performed on an elevated place under the naked sky, typically the top of a mountain or a large structure such as a pyramid. Ancient obelisks built by the empyreans are often found in such places, and are considered especially auspicious. The paragon stands in a ritual posture, pointing his triarma at the sky. A magical vortex of thunder forms above him and a great bolt of lightning strikes down, drawn to the triarma. It is customary for this ceremony to be overseen by other paragons, usually selected from close friends and comrades.

Quote from: Cartouches
Most paragons have a personal cartouche, created on the day of their coming-of-age. A cartouche is a stylished combination of hieroglyphic symbols identifying the paragon, enclosed within a rounded rectangle border. It is used as a signature in letters, poems and other writings, but also bears a mystical connection to it's owner. By some unbreakable cosmic law every cartouche is unique; namesakes inevitably end up each with different alternative combinations of hieroglyphs, owing to the nature of the writing system. Moreover, a cartouche is bound to it's owner so powerfully that it cannot be forged, nor can it be drawn by anyone else -- any attempt to do so simply fails. It is commonly supposed that the act of drawing one's cartouche is literally imprinting one's soul onto the papyrus, and that the subtle beauty and flaws in the shape of the hieroglyphs of a cartouche reveal something essential about the person of it's owner. Most paragons use utmost care and calligraphic effort when drawing their cartouches.

That's very nice. I can actually imagine some funny stuff coming out of this. Like, the most careless of Paragons having a super ugly cartouche and people would always be like... 'sigh' at the sight of it.

But I'm impressed that you even think of things like that. Like... it makes sense, but never would I have thought of it.

To the Ghostman I have to say that I loved Astral Blades and was so forlorn,distraught,crestfallen when nothing happened with it.

So I'm glad that you've started hammering together a successor setting.

I love the pseudo brozne age  epic fantasy world that you have set up, the fact that all those so called mythological events are literally true is something else that I like.

I hate when people try to fix or retune somebody else work to fit  their definition of cool and or appropriate. So I'm not going to do that, i'm going to share my thoughts and ideas and you can do what you will them.

I think that Sparkletwist's critique of Paragon has some merit, looking at it from outside I can so much room for expansion and a few places that can be tweaked.

First there could be more room for Paragons that were born and perhaps manifested there powers without begin a part of the Order. Personally I got no problem with begin a regular member of the Order born and raised to take my place ammidst  its august body.  However a lot of people do have a problem with it.  Folks want to play the new kid on the block that is just coming into their power and is whisked away from their mundane life to adventure and glory;how many stories from antiquity to modernity follow the set up that I just described.   They also want to play the home town hero that slew the dire sabertooth in burst of supernatural puissance and skill!  The badass lonewolf,man on the edge, the cop or agent that's always gets called  in to their superior's office but is never actually discharged from their service because they are just too damn good at what they . Related to the "The badass lonewolf,man on the edge" is the wandering gun-slinger or samurai, the figure who can save the system precisely because they exist outside it.


Where do these lost Paragon's come from? Well the children that Paragons leave behind in the amongst the surface human populations. The most common scenario is the father that dies in battle before they can claim and raise their child. With a little tweaking this scenario can even be applied to Lady Paragons I can see the story now...

QuoteA Lady Paragon is in a remote settlement she's enjoying a feast in her honor after slaying some rampaging  demonic beasty, then she looks at that one gaurdsman who refused to break ranks when the Warlock's beastly minions surged over the town's walls...he starts to sing , he has the voice of an Empyrean. Nine months later it's a dark and stormy night Lady Paragon has delivered a healthy child. Unfortunately a messenger has barged into the room, he was sent to get the Lady-Paragon for the Warlock thought dead has returned with another even larger and more fearsome horde of beasts.  Lady-Paragon knows her duty she hands the child to the father,leaps out of bead gathers her things and rides off to rally the guards;while labor is an ordeal for human women Paragons are magically infused superhumans. Lady-Paragon fights all night and holds the line against impossible odds and slays that Warlock once and for all. However she is slain in the process, the townsfolk find Lady-Paragon standing atop a hill of corpses sword in driven through the Warlock's black heart!  The Father takes the Triarma it's light fading and promises to give it to the child.

I think that the Paragon order could benefit from having a Ranger corps of some kind, Lord of the Ring's Dunedin or Game of Throne's Nightwatch could serves as inspiration. Some real world inspiration be drawn from Circuit Judges and or the Texas Rangers. Paragon's are obligated to protect a vast amount of territory and even with a wide array of domesticated giant flying  beast are likely to be a reactive rather than proactive force when it comes to dealing with threats. A partial solution is for a contingent of Paragons drawn from the ranks of  the outdoorsy types that are rather good at dealing with people, to be assigned given territories which they patrol for dangers;there would also be ranger station where people know that they can go to for aid or shelter in event of a crisis.


Magic that mere mortals could tap into. Maybe it's cutting deals with demons or nature spirits, maybe A strong willed mortals can manifest eidolons weaker than what a Paragon could call forth certainly but still impressive to other mortals, perhaps mortals can use the same dynama fueled magic as Paragons albeit a much weaker version.

The invention of money all the problems come with a cash based economy. Some far flung city-state or federation of city-states introduce the concept of money to the "known world".

Rebel Paragons. Not evil just rebellious Paragon's that genuinely believe that their kind's stewardship of humanity is a form of oppression and must be brought to an end.

Tyrannical Paragon's that think they should just conquer humanity rather than playing distant off handed guardian and have taken steps towards their goal.   

Other Magic weapons. Are one handed/hand and a half blades of orichalcum and sheath bound together with the users soul into Triarma truly the only weapon suited to Paragons?

What of Bows.

(http://i670.photobucket.com/albums/vv61/9LivesBW/184.jpg)

(http://static2.comicvine.com/uploads/scale_medium/11111/111111327/2972860-ishida-uryu-ishida-30477510-619-800.jpg)

Spears.
(http://vignette2.wikia.nocookie.net/typemoon/images/d/d2/Lancer_gae_bolg.jpg/revision/20150517165001)

(https://i.ytimg.com/vi/1mtlJ0N_xAY/maxresdefault.jpg)

Two-Handed Swords.
(http://vignette2.wikia.nocookie.net/berserk/images/2/28/Leather_improvements.png/revision/latest?cb=20120517170011)

Staves
(http://www.dragonagesaga.com/uploads/Jun-2013/orsino_concept.png)

and

Knives.
(https://www.iloveswords.com/images/LOTR/MDL_legolas.jpg).

And even if the Triarma must be a sword and sheath, are their no mighty arms that could be bestowed upon a worthy mortal companion.

Well that's all I got.

Hello Architcet, I'm glad that you're finding this setting interesting. :)

Renegade (former) paragons do exist in the world, as NPC characters. They could be temporary allies for PCs during a scenario, but aren't really suitable as player characters -- a mixed party would be difficult to justify and keep together, and the renegade character would have to sit out on many scenes.

Quote from: Gardening-Architcet
I think that the Paragon order could benefit from having a Ranger corps of some kind, Lord of the Ring's Dunedin or Game of Throne's Nightwatch could serves as inspiration. Some real world inspiration be drawn from Circuit Judges and or the Texas Rangers. Paragon's are obligated to protect a vast amount of territory and even with a wide array of domesticated giant flying  beast are likely to be a reactive rather than proactive force when it comes to dealing with threats. A partial solution is for a contingent of Paragons drawn from the ranks of  the outdoorsy types that are rather good at dealing with people, to be assigned given territories which they patrol for dangers;there would also be ranger station where people know that they can go to for aid or shelter in event of a crisis.

It's already kind of assumed in the setting that many a paragon's duties would include that kind of wandering patrols. Just without a special organization.

Quote from: Gardening-Architcet
Magic that mere mortals could tap into. Maybe it's cutting deals with demons or nature spirits, maybe A strong willed mortals can manifest eidolons weaker than what a Paragon could call forth certainly but still impressive to other mortals, perhaps mortals can use the same dynama fueled magic as Paragons albeit a much weaker version.

Other magics do exist but they aren't dynama-based, they're something entirely different. I'm not sure if I'm going to try detailing any of them though.

It's incorrect to use the word "mortal" to distinquish ordinary people from paragons, since paragons are human beings and just as mortal as anyone else. Although they are miraculously empowered, they aren't actually considered to be divine in nature, not even partially. I think this is an important feature of the setting that ought to be made clear.

Quote from: Gardening-Architcet
And even if the Triarma must be a sword and sheath, are their no mighty arms that could be bestowed upon a worthy mortal companion.

Magical artifacts (other than triarma, anyway) should be rare, to the point that it's rather unlikely one would be seen in a game, if not as a plot device. I want to keep equipment management to a minimum and keep the focus on characters' abilities, goals and relationships. Eidolons do wield fantastic weapons of wide variety, but those are really just part of their manifest avatars and thus not something that can be acquired.

P.S. I find it fairly ironic to use a picture of Archer in that context, given how much Archer fights with his swords vs how little he actually uses his bow. :P

Quote from: Ghostman
Hello Architcet, I'm glad that you're finding this setting interesting. :)

Renegade (former) paragons do exist in the world, as NPC characters. They could be temporary allies for PCs during a scenario, but aren't really suitable as player characters -- a mixed party would be difficult to justify and keep together, and the renegade character would have to sit out on many scenes.

Quote from: Gardening-Architcet
I think that the Paragon order could benefit from having a Ranger corps of some kind, Lord of the Ring's Dunedin or Game of Throne's Nightwatch could serves as inspiration. Some real world inspiration be drawn from Circuit Judges and or the Texas Rangers. Paragon's are obligated to protect a vast amount of territory and even with a wide array of domesticated giant flying  beast are likely to be a reactive rather than proactive force when it comes to dealing with threats. A partial solution is for a contingent of Paragons drawn from the ranks of  the outdoorsy types that are rather good at dealing with people, to be assigned given territories which they patrol for dangers;there would also be ranger station where people know that they can go to for aid or shelter in event of a crisis.

It's already kind of assumed in the setting that many a paragon's duties would include that kind of wandering patrols. Just without a special organization.

Well  a title or designation for the Paragon's that are stationed on the surface and serve as first responders to the various threats that roam the surface, would work for me. I can even see tension developing between the Surface Paragon who actually live and work with the people and the Skyward Paragon who only leave the citadels on mission.  The Skyward Paragons thinking that Surface Paragons have grown to familial with the surface folk and are "going native, the Surface Paragon" thinking of the Skywards as soft,arrogant and disconnected from the people that they are supposed to  to be protecting. 

Quote from: Gardening-Architcet
Magic that mere mortals could tap into. Maybe it's cutting deals with demons or nature spirits, maybe A strong willed mortals can manifest eidolons weaker than what a Paragon could call forth certainly but still impressive to other mortals, perhaps mortals can use the same dynama fueled magic as Paragons albeit a much weaker version.

Other magics do exist but they aren't dynama-based, they're something entirely different. I'm not sure if I'm going to try detailing any of them though.

It's incorrect to use the word "mortal" to distinquish ordinary people from paragons, since paragons are human beings and just as mortal as anyone else. Although they are miraculously empowered, they aren't actually considered to be divine in nature, not even partially. I think this is an important feature of the setting that ought to be made clear.


I was thinking of the setting in well a mythic sense, the Paragons are people literally uplifted by the Empyreans a group of god like beings. Thus I was seeing the Paragons as essentially Demigods or Nephilim, though by infusion rather than heredity,calling the common people mortals flowed from that and sounded more flavorful than mundanes. 

Quote from: Gardening-Architcet
And even if the Triarma must be a sword and sheath, are their no mighty arms that could be bestowed upon a worthy mortal companion.

Magical artifacts (other than triarma, anyway) should be rare, to the point that it's rather unlikely one would be seen in a game, if not as a plot device. I want to keep equipment management to a minimum and keep the focus on characters' abilities, goals and relationships. Eidolons do wield fantastic weapons of wide variety, but those are really just part of their manifest avatars and thus not something that can be acquired.

P.S. I find it fairly ironic to use a picture of Archer in that context, given how much Archer fights with his swords vs how little he actually uses his bow. :P

Hero Emiya is first and foremost a marksmen, it urned  him the designation of Archer rather than Fencer or Saber, the legend of the nameless Hero revolves around his usage of the bow. Archer has the eyesight and a bow powerful enough to het targets miles off and with arrows that explode like miniature nukes, that sounded like something that warrior mystic should be able to do. 

Quote from: Illustrious Dawn Ceremony
A part of the daily routine of most paragons, this simple but elegant ritual is performed at sunrise. It is a commonly used method to regenerate dynama. The paragon stands in a receptive posture, facing the emerging sun with open arms. When the solar flame ascends from the eastern horizon, the crystal blade is slowly and grandiosely drawn from it's golden sheath. Both pieces of the triarma are raised high to capture the first light of the morning. The ceremony concludes with the paragon sheathing the blade and bowing courteously to the sun. This ritual can be performed even when the sky is overcast, but it will then be less potent at recovering dynama.

Quote from: Ceremony of the August Blade
Another ritual that regenerates dynama, the Ceremony of the August Blade can be performed at any hour in almost any quiet place. It requires intense psychic concentration that renders the performer largely oblivious to his surroundings. The paragon places his triarma to rest upon an altar, which can be a simple, small pedestal of wood or stone. A makeshift altar may be put together from assorted suitable materials, as long as it is constructed with sincere care and piety. The paragon prostrates reverently before his triarma and engages in occult worship of the object, repeatingly chanting a cadenced prayer, allowing his mind to lose sense of time and place in an effort to render consummate veneration.

Quote from: Dance of Ten Thousand Strikes
An elaborate, ritualistic war dance performed with triarma. The Dance of Ten Thousand Strikes is a graciously flowing spectacle where a paragon moves seamlessly from one combat stance and technique to another, executing choreographic feints and parries and attacks in rhythm with drumming music. This ceremonial dance is used as a means of training the body in the motions of combat, focusing the mind and preparing the soul for the spiritual perils of violent conflict. It is also a commonly featured performance art in festivals and tournaments, an occasion for paragons to compete and display their martial skill in a nonviolent way.

Concerning the Ceremony of August Blade, and my question will potentially bring us into a wider discussion, but what does the August mean here? Where does it come from?

You see, in our world, we have history to give the word meaning. To give it prestige. So did anyone named August achieve great things in your setting?

Quote from: Magnus Pym
Concerning the Ceremony of August Blade, and my question will potentially bring us into a wider discussion, but what does the August mean here? Where does it come from?

You see, in our world, we have history to give the word meaning. To give it prestige. So did anyone named August achieve great things in your setting?

Totally nitpicking here, but August was a title bestowed upon Roman emperors. Even Augustus was born Gaius Octavius.

Nitpicking aside, you do make really good point about meaning we attach to words IRL and how that can seep into our settings.

In this case it's simply a suitably grandiloquent word I picked to indicate 1) prestige attached to triarma and the ceremony, and 2) that the sword+sheath are treated as an object of veneration.

Quote from: Folk Magics and Witchcrafts
The peoples of the world have many peculiar practices that might be called sorcery. These folk magics are as different from each other as they are from the powers of the paragons. None of them involve channeling dynama.

Dowsing is the craft of finding hidden sources of fresh water beneath the ground. The dowser spends several days in ritual fasting and then walks in search for water, using a special rod to sense it's presense. Dowsers are most numerous and respected in arid lands where water is scarce, but their craft is known everywhere.

Geomancy is using ancestral knowledge about the natural world's alignment with the spirit world to identify locations that are auspicious or inauspicious for various purposes, such as cultivation, dwellings, burial or quarantining the ill. A field tilled on a plot deemed auspicious by a geomancer will yield more ample crops, while the souls of the dead will pass on their journey peacefully on an optimally situated necropolis. Most villages have a holy man who retains the art of geomancy that has been passed down for generations in his family.

Talismans are thin flat tablets usually made of wood or bone, with arcane symbols painted on one or both sides. Magical items of the most common kind, they are created by masterful artisans for various purposes: protection from accidents, success in romantic endeavours, safekeeping of valuables, warding off evil spirits, easing childbirth, increasing prosperity of a household, longevity, good health and cursing grave looters. These tablets are usually nailed, glued or suspended on places they are intended to protect, but some are carried in one's person and brandished when they are needed. They are always handled with reverent care, so that they wouldn't lose their power. The craft of creating talismans is very ancient and widespread.

Summoning of Demons as a folk magic is an old tradition among some tribes and virtually unknown among others. The summoner consumes a potion to enter a trance, inviting a spirit from Pandemonium to possess him. Another person may then bargain with the demon for information or favours. This is a dangerous form of sorcery because demons can be unpredictable and sometimes refuse to leave the summoner's body.

Spells are cadenced verbal rotes similar to poetry. Spoken in a magical voice, they invoke deities and fey powers, imploring them to grant their aid. Spells are directed at other characters and have an enthralling effect on them -- instilling a particular emotion, robbing them of their wits, convincing them of some falsehood, or even binding them under the sway of the speaker. The act of reciting a spell is called "casting" it, as it is likened to a fisherman casting a net to ensnare the fish. Spellcasting may be the least common form of sorcery, and it is typically viewed as malevolent. Among all people in the world, talented poets and singers are the ones most able to become spellcasters because they are blessed with sublime tongues that can more easily speak in a magical voice.

Thumbs up!

[ic=A Test of Courage]
The short grass, still wet after the evening's rain, feels soft and slick under my bare feet. Running ahead on the darkened lakeside illumined only by moonlight and a small candle in my hand, I struggle to keep pace with my elder sister. "Come on!," she hurries me up excitedly. Our footpath takes us along the shoreline, occasionally passing by a lone tree or bush. There is but faint wind in the air, barely enough to make audible rustle in the reeds. With the lakeside being devoid of people at this hour, the loudest things present appear to be crickets -- after my noisy sibling.

I stumble on my step a bit and almost drop the candle. In times like this it would be useful to be able to create my own light, but that magic remains far beyond my grasp. "Is it still far ahead?" I ask, having but the vaguest sense of the distance we've covered so far in this darkness. My sister tells me that we should now be drawing close to our destination, but doesn't sound too certain of it herself. The coolness of the night air begins to chill my body, and I regret having agreed to this senseless ordeal. My sister, full of confidence and energy as always, doesn't seem bothered at all though. She bears in her hands a small reed basket containing dyed pebbles.

It's a test of courage, something of a tradition for children in our village. Everyone living here is said to have taken the test, despite that grown-ups disapprove of it. A simple task of going to an old standing stone in a grove by the lakeside after dark, and leaving something at the foot of the stone as proof of completing the trial. What makes this courageous is that the grove is said to be haunted. The mere thought of it gives me shivers but my sister seems unfazed, hopping onward with a bouncy gait a couple of paces ahead of me.

There is still no sight of the grove, not that I can see very far in the dim gloom. I can't help but wonder what terrors might be lurking in the darkness. I close my eyes for a moment and concentrate, turning away from my familiar senses and focusing on opening my inner eye as I've been trained to do. Trying to perceive my surroundings, I sense the crickets in the shrubs, the many bugs crawling down in the grass, the odd bird perched on a tree branch. Above all I sense my sister, her powerful aura shining like a beacon in the night. There is no disturbance here, no presense of ghosts or fell spirits that I can perceive, but this gives me little comfort. A rustle of leaves snaps me back to my mundane senses; the wind is growing stronger.

The path brings us on the edge of a steep bank when a sudden gust sweeps at us, dragging at my sister's clothes. She manages to maintain her balance but loses grip of her basket, and it falls rolling down the bank. "Ack! We can't lose those rocks. Help me pick them up," she bellows frustratedly. I can only sigh and hope that none of the pebbles ended up in the lake. We need to leave all of them by the old standing stone to complete the test. I carefully descend the eroded bank down to a muddy beach, where the basket lies overturned and empty.

I try my best to protect the candle's flame while my sister searches for the rocks in the mud. Thankfully the wind seems to be calming now, and I find myself captivated by a bridge of silverly light cast by the moon on the lake's surface, twinkling on the waves. It is an eerily beautiful sight. As I look on in awe, the air stills entirely, the small waves cease to roll, and even the crickets quiet down. My sister rises to stand next to me. She has found most of the rocks and put them back into the basket, but one is still missing. Perhaps it rolled into the lake? She bids me to lower the candle so that we may peer into the water.

We crouch down by the waterline, trying to catch a glimpse of a dyed pebble through the murky water. As we do so, an ominous sensation crawls through me. Everything around us is completely silent. The stilled air feels strangely heavy, almost suffocating. The mud under my feet feels slimy and cold. The flame of the candle flickers out without apparent cause, and I find that I cannot divert my eyes from the perfectly flat surface of the water. My body is numb and frozen still, and I can see the reflection of my self and my sister looking motionless like statues.

Something appears behind us in the reflection: the vague figure of an old woman, her long hair grayed and tangled, her shabby clothes tattered and dirty. She hunches over us as she draws nearer, her atrophied face unbelievably wrinkled, eyes sunken so deep that they are hidden in the shadow of her brow. The image of the crone reflected in the water places a crooked hand on the shoulder of my sister, whose face has now turned as pale with abject terror as my own, completely bereft of her usual temerity. Somehow, I muster enough strength of will to slowly turn my head to look behind us, only to find that the old woman isn't there. Shocked and confused, my gaze is drawn back to the dark water where the ghastly figure still looms behind our reflections, still grasping my sister. It opens it's toothless mouth to croac a single word that rings horrifically in my ears: "Come!" And having uttered that word the visage suddenly scuttles away, disappearing into the depths of the lake, dragging the reflection of my sister with it.

The numbness of my body wanes and I find that I can move freely again. I immediately reach for my sister, who is still beside me and frozen in place, the look in her eyes glazed. There is no sign of the old woman anywhere, and the wind and the waves have resumed. I try to stir my sister by calling her name and shaking her gently, but she does not respond. I look on the surface of the water, now being broken by waves. I can still make out my own distorted image, but my sister's reflection is nowhere to be seen.
[/ic]

Quote from: Priest-Kings

(https://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/thumb/4/42/Babylonianking.svg/245px-Babylonianking.svg.png)

Earthbound kingdoms are centred on city-states ruled by theocratic monarchs known as priest-kings. These men possess religious and political power, but also some degree of magical power. A priest-king is, in some sense, an avatar of the protector deity of his city. As such he is a superhuman being whose very presense on the throne bolsters the safety and prosperity of the city and it's domain. The king is a high priest of the city's guardian deity, but as an avatar of the same he is also an object of veneration. Appeals to the priest-king are appeals to the god. This does not make the priest-king's person sacrosanct, for he is merely one holy ruler in a succession of many. Should he fall or be deposed, another will rise in his place as the next avatar.

The extent and magnitude of a priest-king's abilities depend on his god-identity and personal virtue. There are, however, certain powers that seem to be universal among them: that they can not be swayed by lies; that they can expel fear and doubt from the hearts of their subjects with a gesture; that they can bestow fertility upon the fields by enacting a ritual fornication; that the brilliance of the Sun does not blind or sting their eyes; and that they never sleep, but may dream while awake. These are known as the five majestic gifts. It is also a well known fact that a priest-king's blood is golden rather than red, owing to his quasidivine nature.

Since many earthbound kingdoms are still under the dominion of skyward realms, their priest-kings are direct vassals of citadel lords. Although this relationship is personal it is also quite distant, as the two barely ever meet in the flesh. Regular communication is maintained via messengers and occasional visits by envoys. Vassaled priest-kings must send tribute once per year and may be called upon to assist in a war effort, but beyond that they are left to rule their kingdoms however they please. It is more likely that a priest-king calls upon his citadel lord for protection or advice.

Sometimes paragons need to visit the court of a priest-king for some reason or another. Audience is granted to those on official business from the incumbent citadel, but others may be turned away -- unless there is a herald among them. Paragons admitted to stand in the presense of a priest-king are permitted to keep their triarma, but they must be sheathed and wrapped in cloth rather than worn ready to be drawn.

That's so cool!

I have something like that in Primeval. A yet undisclosed detail that I did have on paper. The priest-king is a suteph.

But yeah, cool picture and cool info.

Quote from: The Country of Five Rivers
Several tribes of mankind have settled in the Country of Five Rivers. Three among them stand above others, having claimed the largest and choisest of territories for themselves: the Golden Scarab Tribe, the Horned Viper Tribe, and the Song of the Reeds Tribe. By appearance and customs these peoples are similar -- coppery-red of skin with thick dark hair, draped in loincloths or loose sheets and robes of sun-bleached linen, dwelling in huts of adobe, living off crops grown on fields watered by irrigation canals, and celebrating every dawn with rites in reverence of the sun. Every tribe speaks in it's own native tongue.

Numerous earthbound kingdoms thrive on these tribes' lands, centred on powerful cities surrounded by mudbrick walls and housing tall ziggurats. Always they vie for territory and influence, sometimes by diplomacy and guile, at times by spears and arrows. They are joined by two skyward realms that remain from the bygone days of wonder: Akhet-hor and Chandramani. Cutthroat bands of nomads roam on the hinterlands, eyeing the fruits of civilization greedily.

[spoiler](https://images7.alphacoders.com/288/288152.jpg) (https://wall.alphacoders.com/big.php?i=288152)[/spoiler]
The Country of Five Rivers is vast and much of it remains in a state of wilderness. On it's central plain, great flatlands of hot savannah expand as far as the eye can see, covered in tall grass, thorny shrubs, and the odd dragontree. The plains extend northwest to the coast of the Elder Sea, where many aquatic monsters are said to lurk in the depths beneath it's glittering surface. Toward the west the landscape becomes drier and hotter, gradually turning into the inhospitable wasteland of the High Desert, whence powerful sandstorms occasionally sweep out on to the savannah. To the south rise the barren cliffs of the Pale Mountains, an ominous range of steadily eroding rock punctured by a labyrinthine web of narrow canyons, defiles and tunnels of unknown origin. It is a dangerous place haunted by ravenous ghosts and trickster devils. The southeast is dominated by the intractable Hungry Forest, a fetid jungle that continues on further than anyone has explored. The northeastern parts of the country are called the Bonelands, a rugged area of hills and ravines where the broken skeletons of immense behemoths litter the landscape. Giant mushrooms and strange animals infest this area, which also bears ancient ruins of Reptite towers from the time before the great flood.

The five great waterways of the Opal River, the Sapphire River, the Pearl River, the Dreaming River and the Wraith River cut serpentine paths through the land on their way to the shore of the Elder Sea in the nortwest. These rivers and their navigable tributaries connect the towns and villages of the civilized tribes, and carry life-giving water and sediment to the fields. Mud from their floodplains is collected and burnt into bricks for the construction of houses and defenses alike. Reed boats navigate the streams, hauling cargo and passangers. The rivers are an important symbol of life itself for the tribesmen, and are revered as holy things.

Quote from: Akhet-hor
[spoiler](https://images7.alphacoders.com/865/865089.jpg) (https://wall.alphacoders.com/big.php?i=865089)[/spoiler]
The mighty skyward realm of Akhet-hor hovers above the Sapphire River, over the lands of the Golden Scarab Tribe. It is comprised of several floating islands residing closely together, many of them connected via rope bridges. These isles are quite rocky and mountaineous, yet also lush with vegetation. A sizeable town and a number of small villages stand upon the floating landmasses, their densely packed houses built on steep slopes. The sparse available flatlands are all carefully cultivated, along with many hillsides that have been shaped into terraces. The main island is dominated by the magnificently towering edifice of the citadel, the magical structure responsible for keeping the skyward realm aloft. It is the stronghold of the paragons of Akhet-hor and the seat of Grand Master Sharek, who reigns as the citadel lord.

[spoiler](https://images5.alphacoders.com/866/866891.jpg) (https://wall.alphacoders.com/big.php?i=866891)[/spoiler]
Despite it's splendour Akhet-hor is facing trying times. The number of paragons in it's ranks is in decline, the neighbouring earthbound kingdoms are becoming more aggressive and belligerent, many recent years have seen drought and poor harvests, messengers bring unconfirmed news about monsters being sighted in the wilderness, and relations with the distant Chandramani have cooled. Ill omens abound. Even the court diviner sees the same prophetic dream every night, wrought with visions about trials and ordeals ahead. His fevered words restate a warning: "Take heed, wise one, for a great storm is coming!" Be that as it may, the paragons of Akhet-hor are nothing short of tenacious. They will not go down without a fight.

Quote from: Places of Interest
[spoiler=On Akhet-hor]

Dragon's Nest
An aviary near the citadel, where dragons and other flying mounts are stabled and aspiring riders are trained in their handling. A wide flat platform extends off the base of the aviary, to make taking off and landing easier. There is also a small watchtower used for signaling with flags and mirrors.

Court of the Obelisks
This is a large open court in front of the citadel's main entrance, flanked on two sides by rows of obelisks. It is used for public gatherings, ceremonies, festivities, oaths and duels. The courtyard is paved with colorful flagstones that form a mosaic depicting the disc of sunfire being lifted by the phoenix bird.

Heaven's Gate
A ziggurat on one of the smaller isles next to Akhet-hor's main island. The hawk-faced protector deity of the skyward realm is enshrined on the top. The ziggurat is faceted with blocks of silvery-blue stone.

Lunar Garden
When paragons and civil servants wish to relax on their free time, they often head to this enclosed garden. While the garden's enchanted perimeter is fairly small from the outside, the world inside it is miraculously vast and spacious. There are many kinds of delightful flowering plants on display, but most prominent of them all are the moonflowers that only bloom at night. Ornate fountains provide refreshment on hot days, and festooned oil lamps shed pleasant lighting after dark. Pathways through the garden twist and cross and double back on themselves, separated by rows of trees and hedges, which creates many private refuges suitable for amorous encounters.

Tower of Wisdom
This slender white tower stands impossibly tall for the capabilities human masonry. Like the citadel, it was erected by the empyrians and later repurposed. Now it houses scribes, physicians and astrologers in service to the citadel lord. The uppermost floors are used as observatories and studies, while the ground floor contains the citadel's library. The middle floors contain many incubation chambers, for paragons and others to make use of when they seek visions or attempt to embark on dream quests.
[/spoiler]

[spoiler=In the Country]

Valley of Three-Legged Men
The inhabitants of this secluded valley are very odd people. They dwell in circular huts that are buried into the ground, such that only their conical roofs are visible. They refuse to touch metal with bare hands, believing it to be holy. Their males are born with three legs instead of two, and run as fast as the flightless ranga-birds they hunt. The valley is blessed with rich pastures of abundant game, but it is also plagued with frequent flights of massive gadfly swarms.

Twin Cities
These two city-states, Ava-karana and Avi-karana, sit on opposite banks of the Dreaming River, facing off each other like duelists. They are rivals in all matters, and have been locked in an everlasting ritual war since the first days of their founding. At every new moon each city musters a company of braves and sends them to clash in a ceremonial battle, observed by the populace from each side. The victor of that skirmish receives a tribute from the other city, and violence ceases for a month, only for the the cycle to repeat again. The Twin Cities are famed for their lavish royal courts and luxuries.

Waterfall City
This city resides on a ledge-like plateau between two landrises, sprawling to either direction from the Opal River which flows across it. The wide and fast-flowing river cascades down the cliffs in roaring waterfalls. It can only be crossed via a bridge of transparent green stone, made of a single piece that arcs across the entire span without any supports. Waterfall City is ruled by an eunuch king who is never seen in public, but is rumoured to be able to create illusions and send them to deceive his enemies. The town is positioned so safely that it has no need for walls, and it's warriors ride Andoos and other winged beasts. Visitors in lieu of flying mounts are winch-lifted up to the city on a gondola if they are dignitaries, while paupers have to ascend a dangerously narrow and winding path up the cliffs.
[spoiler](https://images5.alphacoders.com/393/393631.jpg) (https://wall.alphacoders.com/big.php?i=393631)[/spoiler]
The Hollow Mesa
A lone mesa stands eerily in the badlands where the Pale Mountains give way to the dunes of the High Desert. You could never tell it by looking from around it, but this mass of rock is hollow inside. It houses a colony of chittering desert monsters, childlike in size and shape, with shark teeth, rubbery hairless bodies and very large bulging eyes that gleam in the dark. They only come out at night, emerging from secret tunnels dug beneath the dunes, to scavenge and steal from unwary travelers. Sometimes they can be heard "singing" in wild screeching noises.

The Ringing Stele
A monumental stele carved from an immense slab of granite, it stands on a hilltop overlooking the ford on Pearl River. The stele was erected to commemorate the great battle fought a century ago on this crossing, where Nattakir the Heartless, savage warlord of the Striding Horde, had fallen. An ominous droning noise, like the ringing of a large bronze bell, sounds constantly from the stele. Some say that it is because thousands of lost souls were trapped on the battlefield and were bound to the stele by fell magics, and are now humming in prayer.

The Hidden Temple
An extensive temple complex is carved into the rock of a cliff face somewhere in the maze of the Pale Mountains. It's location is a mystery, as the travelers who have happened upon it by accident have given wildly contradictory accounts of it's whereabouts, and none of those explorers that have gone searching for the temple have found it. Some sages speculate that the temple may be moving so as to appear in different places, or even that the very shape of the unmapped landscape is in flux, transforming when no one is watching. The temple complex is attended by an ascetic order of mute priests, and is said to house thousands of intricately sculpted idols.

Jade Island
A notorious island on the Elder Sea, along the sailing route to the west. Although mariners shun the place, they sometimes land there briefly to fetch fresh water from the nearest stream or spring, being always quick to leave and never venture deep into the island. If the grotesque statues of monstrous warriors carved from great blocks of jade standing vigilantly along the island's perimeter won't deter them, the gigantic clawprints on the beaches and the ferocious roars bellowing from the densely forested interior are a more than sufficient scare. Some sailors who have been forced to linger on the island to wait out a storm speak of hearing the sound of fervent drumming and of spotting eerie lights upon the hilltops.

The Lost City
Deep in the tangled expanse of the Hungry Forest, dilapidated ruins of a once monumental city lay about, half-submerged in a rank swampland. Although dappled with moss and strangled by vines, a multitude of ornate stone columns and statuary testify to the wealth and sublime craftmanship of this bygone civilization. Nothing is known of the people who built this place, or even if they were of mankind to begin with. It is a major ordeal just to locate the Lost City, as there are no paths or landmarks leading there through the jungle, and the foliage camouflages the ruins from the eyes of those flying above. Bands of treasure hunters have ventured into the forest with intention of scouring the site for valuable relics, but none are known to have returned.
[spoiler](https://images.alphacoders.com/150/150283.jpg) (https://wall.alphacoders.com/big.php?i=150283)[/spoiler]
The Silent Grotto
This cave, located on the shore of the Elder Sea, is a place held sacred by the Horned Viper Tribe. So holy it is that sound cannot be heard within it. The illusory limits between the phenomenal world and Pandemonium wane in the grotto so that even ordinary people may see glimpses to the other side. Many tribesmen make pilgrimages to the site, but they are wary of entering the cave.

The Spiral Pit
A great pit yawns wide open on the ground, like the maw of some colossal beast, between the central plain and the Bonelands. This enormous chasm spans over a league across and plummets down to unknown depths that go on deeper than sunlight can reveal. Some think that it may even reach down to the primeval sea that is Abyss. The sides of the cavity form a broad spiral ledge that coils downward in a clockwise spin. This ledge is quite rough and uneven, varying in it's breadth and steepness. Grass, vines, shrubs and even small gnarled trees grow out of it's rocky surface. This vegetation gradually gives way to a verdancy of lichen and fungi, and eventually to bizzarre unknown flora as one descends. The cliff walls are punctured all over by entrance holes to myriad subterranean tunnels that wind and twist and coil around the pit, sometimes connecting to spacious caverns. Strange beasts lurk in these hollow spaces, and aberrant flying creatures build nests on outcroppings.

There is an eldritch distortion that subverts the very laws of distance and direction, warping the space within the pit. Where each revolution of the spiral should funnel the walls closer, shortening the gap across to the opposite side, no such thing apparently happens. No matter how deep one descends, the span of the spiral and the length of a round trip along it remain the same.

Temple of the Blue Lotus
Flowers of the blue lotus plant are the source of an important drug used in many religious rituals and some feats of sorcery. They are also symbols of wisdom and vitality. These magnificent plants that grow in pools of fresh water are said to be descended from a fabled ur-flower, the very first blue lotus which blossomed at the dawn of the universe. That original specimen, pretenaturally large and beautiful, is nursed in an enchanted garden in a serene valley through which the Dreaming River flows. A large temple with marble walls and golden roof encloses the garden, itself surrounded by a sacred grove.

By ancient taboos common to all the civilized tribes of the country, this sanctuary is exempt from all manner of violent disturbance. It's eternal peace is guaranteed by a brotherhood of tattooed warrior-priests. The temple is independent from the nearby earthbound kingdoms and wields significant amount of political power. It maintains its prosperity by imposing a religious tax upon villages within it's sphere of influence. Pilgrims arrive from far and wide to revere the original blue lotus, bearing offerings that likewise help support the temple. A great volume of lore has accumulated in the Temple of the Blue Lotus over the ages, gathered from the multitude of visiting mystics and scholars.

The Seven Pyramids
These pyramids stand in a hexagonal formation on the central plain, with the tallest pyramid in the centre and the other six on evenly distanced points around it. They are oriented according to geomantic and astrological lore, creating a liminal space where the celestial bodies of heaven are in harmony with the mundane axes of earth. The outer pyramids contain enclosed tombs of six legendary paragon masters, buried in golden sarcophagi with troves of powerful artifacts. Their burial chambers are sealed behind massive stone doors and protected by powerful curses.

The seventh pyramid, however, does not house a cadaver. It's vaulted chamber contains an unknown menace, the identity of which was struck from records and forgotten after the passing of the six masters. The central pyramid is bolstered with defenses and curses even more potent than the rest, but these were not intended to prevent tomb robbers from entering -- they were designed to keep something from escaping.

The Black Oasis
A large oasis in the High Desert and the principal watering hole along the caravan routes that cross it. The water of this oasis looks disturbingly dark and murky, and has a slightly bitter taste to it. It apparently is safe to drink though -- and also doubles as liquid food. It fends off starvation, but leaves the feeling of hunger. Drinking your fill of the black water is enough to stand for three hearty meals, but no matter how much of it you intake you find that you're still hungry.

A small cluster of huts and a shrine to the tentacled god that dwells in the spring account for the permanent inhabitation. Desert nomads arrive to setup camp by the oasis from time to time, temporarily erecting a sizeable village of tents there. There is no rule of law in the Black Oasis, but ancestral customs of hospitality are ironbound.
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QuoteValley of Three-Legged Men
The inhabitants of this secluded valley are very odd people. They dwell in circular huts that are buried into the ground, such that only their conical roofs are visible. They refuse to touch metal with bare hands, believing it to be holy. Their males are born with three legs instead of two, and run as fast as the flightless ranga-birds they hunt. The valley is blessed with rich pastures of abundant game, but it is also plagued with frequent flights of massive gadfly swarms.

My inner Ripley's kid is kicking in. I need to know how that works anatomically.

Some things are better left for imagination.