I wanted to post this as a suggestion first before making it into an actual thread because I don't know if anyone else is interesting in participating in such a project, and I didn't want it to conflict with the Community Projects already on the forums (CeBeGia & Fantaseum).
So what am I talking about? The 'Everything is Canon' is a community world-building project that originated from the Wizards of the Coast D&D forums (links provided below). Unlike other community projects, the 'Everything is Canon' isn't a place for random ideas: everything that is posted on the thread becomes canon for the setting. There is no debate or discussion, unless if it conflicts with a previous post (even then, a new idea is likely to be slightly adapted to fit in with the setting rather than being harshly rejected).
The campaign settings that were created with this style of world-building turned out well, even if they were never truly completed. I honestly don't think anyone has ever ran a game using a world created in this way, but that doesn't matter. To me, this sort of project is really just a place to pool together a lot of little ideas that were floating around in your head that never fit in with other settings, as well as a place to expand upon other people's ideas and make it all work together.
So why am I proposing that we make a similar thread here? The way I see it, such a project on these forums would not be limited to a single rules system like D&D. A world that we make could be about anything. D&D has the problem of too many races, monsters, and diverse forms of magic '" finding a place in a world for all of them gets a little tedious. A project posted here would be radically different: each race, monster, form of magic, and religion will be entirely unique.
Here are the links to the original Everything is Canon threads for anyone who is interested:
Everything is Canon! (http://community.wizards.com/go/thread/view/75882/19920386/Everything_is_Canon!)
Everything is Canon 2 (http://community.wizards.com/go/thread/view/75882/22090109/Everything_Is_Canon_II?pg=1)
From the looks of the other threads this could be fun!
I'll start... these are still a little D&Dish, but at least they`ll get the ball rolling...
The Elves, who call themselves the Fair Folk, have embarked on a project of racial cleansing. No other species equals Elven beauty; the world must be cleansed of non-Elf hideousness. Roaming murder-squads of Elf warriors with skulls painted on their faces execute any of the "lesser races" they come across, and the Elf nations have declared themselves universally at war with other species. Half-Elves are treated as abominations, as are their parents, who are considered race-traitors and are purged as unclean. There are a few Elves who disagree with their brethren and who live in exile away from the major Elven nation-state, and other dissident Elves who work to undermine the Elven empire from within.
Doppelgangers are quite common. Estimates vary, but some believe that as many as one out of every few hundred or so sentient individuals may be a doppelganger in disguise. Some people get paranoid about this and claim that all the world's doppelgangers are in on some grand conspiracy; others just shrug their shoulders. Often a doppelganger's true identity is only discovered with their death. There's supposed to be a hidden city of them around somewhere or other...
Minotaurs not only love mazes; so mad are they, so much do they delight in the labyrinthine and convoluted, that any place they dwell for an extended period grows new rambling winding architecture, the better to house their delusory dithyrambic dreaming. Farnohh the greybacked king of beasts has held court in the fading city of Cener Mul for three centuries. That place is filled with crooked looping latticed streets that wend and bend in bewildering tangles. Most of the people got out while they could. Those who remain there can find no why out; nor can visitors to that place. This is also true of any who hear a minotaur's speech. Their words are webs of unreason and their hypnotic babbling is how they draw close enough to their victims to butcher or molest them.
Chimeraphage is an unpleasant and virulent disease said to be contracted in nightmares; sufferers in the early stage recall visions of a pestilential and many-headed beast haunting their sleep. The disease manifests by slowly transforming the victim's body parts, piece by piece, into those of animals. A sufferer might awake one day to find the hairs of their arm growing coarse and thick, until the limb becomes that of a lion or bear, even while their toes buckle and conjoin and their nails fuse into goat-hooves, and their chest becomes as squamous as a crocodile's. They may sprout wings or tails or even additional heads; by the time Chimeraphage has run its course the victim is an unrecognizable pastiche of disparate parts. While at first the sufferer's mind remains human, eventually this too deteriorates, until the victim is a savage, incongruous hybrid.
The Grasshopper Court is a blizzard of leaping whizzing chirping bugs that buzzes down the _____ plains at the height of summer. In its wake it leaves not destruction but creation: a city of wicker deftly woven in domes and latticed arches. The people of that city look almost human at a distance but closely observed they too are made of a fine and elegant weave. Their voices are the chirping of insects, for the grasshopper god NULFUR declared long ago that his children would be granted nineteen days in every year to live as mortals do, abandoning the rowdy halls of LOCUST GARDEN and the mischief and misrule of the other grasshopper gods VORS, BULUMG and NOOS.
The city itself is not the Grasshopper Court. The city has no name.
Dwarven Hunger is a rare condition that some relate to lycanthropy and hematophagism. The symptoms are a complete psychological regression to an animal state - however, the animal in question if voraciously predatory, even if the subject's race is of omnivorous or herbivorous stock. In most situations, this leads to sufferers of Dwarven Hunger becoming a danger to those around them, although their now-bestial thought processes do not extend to the use of weapons, so they usually only claim a few victims before armed guards are sent for. There is no known cure for the condition, although in a few notable cases it has simply passed of its own accord.
Although the condition is very rare, it has occurred more often among members of the Dwarven race than any other, hence the name. This has led some members of other species, having heard tales of the Dwarven Hunger, to be somewhat distrustful of Dwarves, and some may even go so far as to think of them all as flesh-eating monsters if they have had no direct contact with them.
The Moonmen are a race of pale-skinned, bat-winged, hunch-backed midgets from the Moon. They are omnivorous but seem to prefer eating any kinds of fungi, even notoriously poisonous varieties, all of which to they are immune. They reproduce by laying eggs, and both the males and females nurse the young with pure white milk.
Because their homeworld is wont to wax and wane, disappearing entirely once in a month, the Moonmen are locked in a perpetual cycle of seasonal migration, flying to and fro between the Moon and the Earth. When the Moon is full, no Moonmen can be found anywhere on Earth, for they have all returned to their celestial home. But soon after the Moon has begun to shrink, flocks of these people can be spotted descending from the sky. The most Moonmen on Earth - the entire race - can be found at the time of new moon, since they literally have no other place to be.
Moonmen trade with earthlings for food and other supplies with precious white pearls brought from their homeland. Being utterly nomadic, they have no use for property other that which they can carry. Many visual arts such as architecture and painting are alien to them, but they are extremely fond of (and highly talented in) performance arts, such as music, poetry, acting and mimicry. They particularly enjoy formulating riddles, and tend to make heavy use of metaphor and proverbs in normal speech, which has earned them a reputation as inscrutable eccentrics. Pacifistic by nature, most Moonmen shy from violence and prefer flight over fight (rather literally so, given their wings), though parents have been known to enter a berserk fury defending their unhatched eggs.
Moonman milk has the unfortunate quality of being a highly addictive euphoriant to many terrestrial races, which has led to the hunting, capture and subsequent abuse of entire flocks. Those who are forced to stay on Earth for several months nonstop eventually contract an ailment that causes them to wither and die, prompting the enterprising druglords to replenish their chattel from time to time.
Dwarves are a xenophobic, isolationist people who secrete themselves in subterranean lairs. Apart from a few savage clans, Dwarven nations are technologically advanced; though no Dwarf can perform magic of any sort they are skilled alchemists and masterful smiths. For all their craft, however, they are unable to create the one thing they need - Dwarf women! The Dwarf race is all-male, having been created (it is said) by the misogynistic god VORN out of molten rock. Because of this, the Dwarves are forced to find mates elsewhere in order to reproduce: unions between Dwarf and human (or between Dwarves and other humanoids) can produce children, but those children are always male Dwarves. In order to perpetuate their race the Dwarves trade their usually highly-prized devices for women of other races. Such arrangements are usually temporary, the bartered women serving as concubines until they bear a certain number of children; in exchange their communities are gifted with fantastic weapons of intricate clockwork or razor-sharp steel, with nigh-invulnerable golems to act as protectors, or with medicines that cure normally deadly diseases. This somewhat distasteful necessity for the continuation of the Dwarf race has done little to help with the Dwarven reputation: those who don't consider them anthrophagous horrors because of the Hunger tend to imagine them as lecherous old men fondling innocent women in the endless darkness of their troglodytic homes.
The Ophideans are a quasi-mythical, seafaring race that appear with the alignment of certain celestial bodies. They ravage small villages and coastal dwellings, appearing in large numbers quickly, and then fading into the horizon, or as some claim, into the depths of the ocean.
They ravage small coastal dwellings and ships caught alone on trade routes, rarely leaving any survivors. The rare survivor, and the subsequent stories told of these seafarers have helped build the legend of the Ophideans in contemporary times. Ancient texts often describe the race as 'once-civil men turned to the sea and therein found madness, and come again at the whimsy of the wind and tide'. Other texts cite a race that angered the gods FLOTSAM and JETSOM, and were enslaved to them, embodying the ocean itself.
Their ships are a strange combination of driftwood,coral,whale-bones, and seaweed. The vessels are said to have masts with sails of living song, and one can hear the screaming melody of their approach, a sound both horrifying and strangely alluring. (Many bards have tried unsuccessfully to emulate these melodies, often losing their life in an attempt at first-hand experience)
The Ophideans have been described as cephalopodic. They have many coiling arms that protrude from the collar bone, chest and torso. The arms work the complicated rigging of the ships, and wield deadly coral weapons. They have the legs of men, and the heads of any variety of deep sea fish including angler-fish, deep sea eels, and lantern-fish. The Ophideans often use bio-luminescence to lure ships onto reefs, rocks, or shallows to cripple the vessel.
The great variety of their species, the unpredictability of their form in fighting, and their tactics in ship to ship fighting has made them a formidable opponent. Little is known about their culture and any attempts at parlay or bribery with the creatures has met with disaster. Ships attacked by Ophideans have been found with the entire cargo intact, with the whole crew slain or missing.
[ooc]By the way, this is a great idea Samurai Chicken, thanks for bringing it up.[/ooc]
[ooc]Since weird afflictions seem to be a bit of a motif (and something of a favorite of mine), I give you...[/ooc]
Teratomopolis, also called Contagion City and The City of a Thousand Plagues, began as a leper colony on Sallow Isle, so named after its cliffs of yellowish stone. Since its founding, however, Teratomopolis has become a dumping ground for the diseased of all sorts: those suffering from Chimeraphage or Titanitus, Dwarven Hunger and Gorgon Flu and Wyrmfever, as well as the incurably mad. Strictly quarantined, the city is only accessible by those who carry a disease of some variety or other, and no one leaves the island (legally) after entering, though rumours persist of underground passages and hidden inlets where people can be smuggled in and out. Despite its uniformly afflicted populace, Teratomopolis has become a surprisingly productive city. The most dangerous individuals are corralled in walled ghettos, while others '" such as Chimeraphage and Titanitus victims '" are used either as beasts of burden or labourers. The city is anarchic and dangerous at the best of times, but a militia called the Pale Wardens keep a tenuous peace, while an oligarchy of merchants and other powerful individuals, called the Supreme Infected, maintain a tenuous rule over the teeming, chaotic streets. Trade is conducted with the outside world through a series of elaborate ropes and pulleys arrayed along the cliffs: goods and currency are exchanged either by lowering them down or hoisting them up in baskets, so that citizens of Teratomopolis and outsiders never need to make physical contact.
Gorgon Flu is a disease spread by eye contact. Its victims undergo a slow, non-painful petrification process, beginning with a stiffness in the limbs and progressing from the extremities, until the sufferer becomes an inanimate statue. Though Gorgon Flu can occasionally be arrested most cases are eventually terminal. However, the petrification process is very gradual so afflicted individuals (who must necessarily go about wearing dark glasses to ward against spreading the disease) can linger for years, their bodies turning to stone with creeping sluggishness.
The Thousand Isles (http://thecbg.org/e107_plugins/forum/forum_viewtopic.php?74915.post), also known more simply as the Thousand, can be found in the middle of the Dreaming Sea. It is said that many of the islands are the mountaintops and other features of a sunken continent called Gheb.
[ooc]Hell yes I just merged these two projects! If you haven't seen the Thousand Isles, follow the link above.
Of course there is one mention of Dwarven women on an island in that project... not a huge contradiction, though.[/ooc]
(Http://www.thecbg.org/wiki/images/c/ca/Starchild.jpg)
The Starchildren are stalkers of the unknown places and residents of uncharted expanses. Large bipedal beasts, covered in small sickly yellow scales that darken to black along their three whip-like upper limbs, they are one of the greatest hazards for intrepid explorers. Lands unexplored are the hunting grounds for these creatures, where one by one they ambush and capture members of pioneering expeditions.
The Bloodletter Guild is one of the many hundreds of competing assassin cults that sell death for money, and yet they manage to stand out. Their contracts are among the most expensive of all, but the Bloodletters never fail. They leave no witnesses behind and they always leave their mark upon the victim: long deep scars covering the skin, and a body soiled in its own blood.
The secrets to their success is that the Bloodletters are not humanoid. They are vampires, and the last of their kind. Feared throughout the world and amongst all cultures, the hematophages have been subject to numerous pogroms and crusades through the ages and they therefore take great pains to hide their nature behind a veil of secrecy and never spread their disease.
Vampires are mystical creatures associated with blood, fire, the moon, and insects. They are immortal and can only be slain with a blade made of silver; otherwise a killing blow will just make them combust and reform at the next full moon. They look human to the casual observer aside from their uncanny green-yellow eyes, and their long chitinous nails. If they were to become aggressive one would notice the three lines of jagged teeth lining their mouth, which can easily distend to four times its normal size.
They can turn their body into a squirming mass of insectile creatures at will, allowing them to access the most impenetrable of locations. They are powerful and fast creatures, and do not require food, water, or air to breathe. Instead they require the blood of living creatures. They only require blood once a month, but it somehow always takes a life to sate their thirst.
The Dreamscape is where a person goes when they dream. It is another plane of existence, though each dreamer (and their dream) is enclosed in its own small portion of the plane. This makes it so dreams will almost never interact. There are, however, creatures that inhabit the Dreamscape. Most are harmless and move from one dream to the next, blending in to each one. These beings just seek to experience the dream of others. There are, however, some creatures that inhabit the Dreamscape that will take control of dreams they enter or even seek to control or harm the dreamer. These effects can stay with a person even after they have awoken (see the Chimeraphage).
Many suspect the the Dreamscape is the source of magic and that the use of magic is somehow bridging the gap between the normal world and the Dreamscape. Some feel this is proven (and others feel it is discredited) by the fact that no one has ever knowingly managed to interact with or make contact with the Dreamscape while in a waking state.
No one knows what, if anything, lies between one dream an another on the Dreamscape but most believe that there is something out there and that this space between is where the creatures and strange beings that are sometimes encountered in dreams come from.
If someone dies on the Dreamscape, they never wake up.
The Automata-Purges occurred some twenty five years ago.
It began when the boy-king Travian of the small but sturdy kingdom of Ikvar had an idea for a completely automated standing army while playing with his clock-work soldiers one day. His most trusted adviser, and tutor, Avleer the Wise, was tasked with designing the clock-work creatures that would sweep across the land conquering in the name of Travian, who was at the time 12 years old. Avleer spent three years on the project, and eventually produced one-hundred 'test' clockwork soldiers. Avleers assistant, Berkegard Blakbarn, seeing an opportunity to displace Avleer as royal tutor and advisor, began tinkering with the automatons as the approaching test run drew nearer.
The test run was a complete and utter disaster. The automatons targeted the boy-kings entourage and slaughtered all but Travian, who was coincidentally saved in the nick of time by Berkegard Blakbarn.
Avleer was immediately blamed for the incident, and went into hiding. Berkegard Blakbarn led the search for Avleer and any and all automatons. Most were hunted down and destroyed, but a few did escape. Automata has since been banned forever in the Kingdom of Ikvar, and anyone consorting with such technology is deemed a traitor to the crown. Any sort of device using clock-work mechanisms were rounded up and destroyed.
Avleer has never been found, but it is rumored he hides somewhere in the Thousand Isles, continuing his work on automatons, and planning his revenge on Berkegard. Berkegard Blakbarn has since become royal adviser and court Inquisitor for King Travian who is now a bitter and hostile king to surrounding nations.
The kingdom of Ikvar remains a minor power due to its refusal to accept technology since the Purges. It's economy has floundered in the last twenty five years, and neighboring kingdoms eye its untapped resources hungrily.
Knife's Edge is a mysterious otherworldly city borne aloft in the sky by thousands of giant wings. It recently appeared in the Heavens above the world, and contact with its inhabitants has yet to be made by the indigenous inhabitants of the lands beneath it.
The Broken Swords Festival is an annual festival celebrated by Maorict [note]Maorict people are supposed to be a combination of Pictish and Maori. Could not think of a more clever name ATM.[/note] people across the land, whether in large numbers or familial units. The festival commemorates King Brendaneru's victory at the battle of Countless Gulch, in which he is reported to have broken over a hundred swords over his enemies head. The battle of Thousand Gulch occurred over four-hundred years ago and was the turning point for the Maorict people, who were on the verge of extinction.
The festival (in more elaborate celebrations) involves a short reenactment of the battle, and the breaking of hundreds of handmade swords.
Bob, lord of the dance is the most powerful being in the universe. He is said to of danced reality into existence though there is fierce debate on whether the dance of creation was the mamba or more akin to a line dance. The war of seven nations was caused by such a dispute when one wizard claimed that Bob was most fond of dancing in the moonlight while the collegium ultima holds that he is a sun loving guy and was quite miffed by such baseless claims.
The Sunna-Voragian sect claims that Bob, lord of the Dance is in fact a woman. Deemed heretics by the people that make such rules, they have started an underground movement, in which images of Bob, lord of the Dance are feminized.
Halflings once lived in a secluded country of gentle valleys and green hills, but some time ago the dread necromancer Moracanth the Merciless moved into the vicinity. Finding the Halflings' hidden little kingdom relatively unprotected she mounted a dark campaign to convert the hapless little folk into obedient servants. Using her fell magic and preexisting servants Moracanth slew and reanimated all but a few Halflings. Those few survivors dug deep into the earth, to mount a guerrilla war against the necromancer and her minions. The rest of the Halflings, however, are now cadaverous soldiers in Moracanth's diabolical army - a rotting horde of child-sized zombies under the necromancer's personal control. The Halflings' country has become a blighted waste from which Moracanth launches her raids. Stories of the Half-Pint Horrors and their ghoulish depredations are now all too common.
Gnomes abandoned the land long ago, taking to the skies in amazing mechanical vessels. Almost all gnomes live in massive, self-sufficient airships like floating cities. Powered by bottled lightning harvested from stormclouds, these flying settlements roam the heavens, filled with technological marvels that would make even the Dwarves jealous. Gnomes consider it bad luck to touch the ground, and only do so in emergency; afterwords, elaborate ceremonies are required to purge the bad luck from a tainted individual.
The Gnomamancer is a fell being who was once a gnome wizard but has since turned himself into a bloated wight that sails the heavens on membranous wings. He demands tribute from gnome cities in the form of young gnome maidens, which he devours. If a city refuses to pay tribute he will cut the tethers of their airships gasbag, sending the city plunging to its doom.