The Campaign Builder's Guild

First, an apology: this is not a poetry thread.
Some of you might have noticed that I am reliably slow in producing any legible material on Broken Verge. I blame this on my constant obsessing over minor details, as well as my highly inorganized approach to writing. Now, I have decided that that shouldn't keep me from drowning you in whatever appears when i put pen to paper (or finger to keyboard).
Basically, I will showcase some of my work in progress slash things deemed partial successes. Both to receive some much needed much desired feedback, but also to give you some insight into the workings of this disturbingly silent setting.
Also, I'm envious of all your long, long WIP threads.  

So here is some stuff:

First, some insight into some early history:

History
Cold Age
The Cold Age was both a beginning and an end. The glaciers crawled south and scattered the ancient  kingdoms of Besmakia before them and forced them to flee south; south to Chimer. Now kings of naught, they took their cold and famine-riddled people and used what little of the old teachings they had managed to preserve to forge new cities and new thrones. Yet centuries of progress bad been  forgotten and the new world turned out to be one of feuds and wars for many years.

It bears mentioning that Besmakia was never completely abandoned. While it was a hard and unforgiving place, both during and after the ice, a few strongholds held out, most notably Khiere; a kingdom just outside the reach of the long winter. And less civilized creatures roamed the mountains and woodlands: the shamanistic Mawmen continued to hunt like they had always done, contending with monsters of old and the feral Melek.  

When the ice retreated, the fledgling nations of the south set their greedy eyes on the homeland they had forgotten. It wasn't long before the first boat set sail for the rocky shores of Besmakia. Ramshackle colonies, such as old Kisvem-by-Sea, slowly gained a foothold.    

the Sanguine Flood
Sadly, it was about then the Hororine arrived. Black-skinned mercenaries from far-away steppelands, hired to do the bidding of the Quenyian emperor, they swept across the continent like a flood; the unseasoned kingdoms and strained farmsteads of Besmakia were no match for them. Only, that's not all they took. They turned on their masters in the Quenyian courts, slaughtered their imperial allies, and took the land they had helped conquer for themselves. Thus began the Era of the Hororine. Despite their past as a nomadic people, the rule of empires came naturally to them and under their rule even Besmakia became a land where a man could live and prosper. But as always there were tensions under the surface.

The Promise
The Hororine might have been fair rulers, but they remained foreign to the people they ruled.  Insurrections, riots and intrigue pestered their empire and when armies marched on their borders the Red Rulers knew there was only one definite way to make it stop: give them their land back
But, as most things Hororine do, it came with a price. They took gold from those who could pay, wealthy warlords and kings alike, but from most they took a price of favors,  influence and debts; a pact known as the Promise. In addition, they demanded peace and freedom from persecution.

Following the sudden disbanding of their Empire, the Hororine pulled back and many journeyed back to their old homeland. A few remained, using their newly acquired wealth and extraordinary rights to set up powerful trading and banking houses. This was the founding of the first Cardinal Houses.


Now follows a bit on the Therennial Cycle, the main organized religion in Besmakia.

Therennial Cycle
A religion partly ancient tradition and partly civilized faith, the history of the church goes far, far back. Even before anyone thought to build cathedrals or write down the commands of the divine, the gods were there, just in different guises. Ancient pagan gods of harvest, night and the hunt these primal beliefs would gradually grow and become the Cycle, and the gods would coalesce into what are now the four elder gods.  
 
Their names long forgotten or hidden away in the Ecclesiarchal Archives, the four elder gods of the sacred Therennial Cycle have for long just been known as the Hungry Mother, the King-in-Stitches, the Hanged Man, and, lastly, the Beggar of Twos. Whether they are many or aspects of the same is a subject of much religious debate.
 Each god governs various aspects of the world, ruling over both the good and the bad. They are fickle and powerful gods, and although humanity has the favor of the gods we are not free from their divine wrath.  
The gods have taught mankind rules to live by, detailed in holy texts such as the Divine Requiem  and the Tomorrow Scrolls, and given us life, and in return we offer them prayer, devotion and sacrifices.  

The faith arose in Besmakia, and has spread little beyond. Even on the continent of origin one would be hard put to talk of a collective congregation; the Cycle is notorious for its number of sects (such as the Golden Scars, the Bitherennialists, and the Order of the Swollen Moon)  only loosely held together by the the Grand Cleric of Kolyaev.
The sectarian behaviour has ensured that much of the worship happens at small shrines dedicated to one or two of the four gods, although all proper therennialist communities have places of worship for all of the four gods and many have proper houses of worship. The great cities of the north have massive cathedrals built of dark rock and iron, their chambers dimly lit with scented braziers and the faltering light passed through massive stained glass windows. Some churches use a four-corner layout, one for each god, while others worship at a single altar.  
Sacrifice remains a  common display of obeisance and worship, mostly in the form of valuables and foodstuffs (depending very much on the sect). Human sacrifice was forbidden by the larger of the sects a few centuries ago, although smaller sects are still rumored to practise it.  

The Hungry Mother
The fickle godess of passions, avarice and fertility, the Hungry Mother is unpredictable both in her blessings and her curses. She watches over beginnings and birth, but also endings. She is often depicted as naked pregnant woman with a gaping mouth and empty eyes, sometimes  found  curled in a foetal position, attempting to eat her own feet. She is also associated with the serpent eating its own tail. In the mythology she is said to both give birth to the world and destroy it.  

King-in-Stitches
God of wealth and blood, the King is depicted as a  lean man bleeding from a hundred scars and stitches criss-crossing his body. He is often shown with several bestial aspects; most commonly a set of black antlers. In his hands he most typically carries a swor d of gold. He is god of both war and justice, bloodshed and punishment. Many herald him as the protector and scourge of all civilizations and the king of gods and men.  

Hanged Man
The Hanged Man is the god of penitence and sacrifice as he hung himself to atone for the frivolities before the harvest season. He is thus also the god of harvest, toil and diligence and by extension he became the guardian of craftsmanship. Traditionally, people hang effigies of the Hanged Man on the door as symbols of atonement, especially during the annual toilfest.  

The Beggar of Twos
Half-god, half-man, the Beggar is forced to sit vigil on earth until the end of the world. He is both a child and an old man, ignorant and all-knowing; a keeper of secrets even he doesn't know. He walks the known world, flowers wilting in his wake, and is the god of both journeys and thresholds. He guides the dying, the mad, and the destitude. It's tradition to bury the dead with two coins set in their eyes as that is the payment the Beggar will take for a safe journey. It's also the reason why no one gives a gift in two parts; it is reserved for the dead.


Next, some text on my democratic terrorists

the Nowhere Legion
They hide in the corners of civilization. The discontent. Those who wish for things to be different. Normally, they go unnoticed, but for a few, this wish consumes them; in their twisted world the only path left is revolution.
The likeminded find ways to gather, and thus out of nothing came the Nowhere Legion. Their soldiers are spread across the world, living a double life in the shadows of society until they are needed.

Their ultimate goal is an utopia, a world free of superstition, religion, and old tradition, governed by the people and free of lies and dogma. That is, an atheist democracy. But the world has stagnated, in their mind, the growth has come to a standstill and they believe that the old must be purged before new things can be born. To achieve this end they shy away from no means.  

To hasten the fall of civilization their knives strike against heads of state and leaders of faith and their torches burn the lore and the stories of the old world. They murder without remorse, as everything belonging to this world is in the way of enlightenment. They have killed both kings and priests (or so the rumor says), and it is rumored that they were behind the burning of the Tesserine Library.    

Most Legionnaires know only 2 or 3 others from the Legion, the members of their cell, but they have all heard of the Harbinger, the supposed leader of the Nowhere Legion. It's impossible to tell whether he is simply a rumor or if he is real; no Legionnaire captured so far has ever seen him or heard him speak.
The Harbinger was the one who recovered, or perhaps wrote, the ancient manuscript called The Winter of Discontent,  the cardinal text of the Legion, and recounted it to his first legionnaires. Every Legionnaire acquires a copy of the illegal manuscript as it  details the teachings and arguments they build their life upon. The Legion also seems to communicate through an obscure leaflet known as the Road Not Taken, tattered copies of which seem to mysteriously appear in the abandoned corners of the cities.


Also, a minor death cult with some important duties (and creepy plague angels)

Lady of the Sweetest Breath
Students of the mysteries of life and death, this cult worships the enigmatic Lady of the Sweetest Breath. They maintain that creation and life came before everything, but it was only when the Lady made death that it all made sense; without an end there is no point in a beginning, they say.

They don't fear death, but they don't embrace it either; death is what makes life sweet, but by itself it is bitter. They see life as a struggle towards the inevitable where every moment is good by its mere existence and none are more valued than the very last moment; the sweetest breath. Disease and war are but tests of the lady, sent to discover our mettle.  

As such, they often work as healers; but they are far from common doctors. They possess secret lore on medicine and pathology unknown to many mundane doctors and only the mortally wounded and the dead are allowed inside their sacred halls. The only service they will never deny are the funerary rites of cremation and the Lady's final blessing: the last involving a single kiss on the deceased's forehead.  

Their religious practices most often go hand in hand with their academic practices, but they do often participate in arduous fasts and catatonic meditations. There are many rumors concerning their ways and the origin of their knowledge: some say they dance with wights and wraiths in candlelit crypts, others that they steal the dead and study their insides. Some say that when they claim a  patient died, it isn't alway s true. Death is not terrible because it is nothing, it is terrible because it is unknown and they seek to understand it, and to do that they need a way across the veil.

Despite their important duty as undertakers and gravekeepers, the cult of the Lady is a small one with few disciples and virtually no common worshippers. They maintain chapterhouses at the major cities of Besmakia and Chimer, but few besides that. The cult contains both men and women and they all dress in  

The militant division of their faith are known as the Mercies or the angels of the pyre. Scarred survivors of ghastly diseases and mortal wounds, they are the chosen of the Lady, persuaded to serve by the Sisters as a price for their miraculous  healing. They hide their wounds behind angelic masks depicting faces of tranquil serenity and armors of bleached leather and white feathers. They arm themselves with torch and handblade. They do not fight mortal enemies, but rather sickness and plague; they track down the contagious, put them to rest, and burn their remains. Their order was established during the Pit's Eyes plague and has luckily only been called upon a few times over the last centuries.    


And now for a little pseudo-science:

Ensoulment
Is there something to life beyond the merely physical? Are humans and other beings simply machines made from flesh? Prophets and priests had long debated the existence of the soul and when doctors weighed the dying before and after and found the dead lighter than the living some suggested that they had found proof.

It would take decades before the first soul was extracted, though. They called it a soul, but in reality they did not know exactly what it was. It came from a man, but the process was fatal so it wasn't possible to question the man as to what he had lost. But it was clear that it was something besides a simple physical constituent.

Questions, both curious and antagonistic, quickly arose amongst the academic and religious communities of the Known World in an upheaval known as the Ghost Times. Few were aptly answered. What exactly could be done with a soul was yet to be established. Yet rumors quickly spread of its uses: Carry a soul to divert the attention of spirits, soak a cloth in the ethereal substance and rub your skin to wipe away sins; the illegal market for souls grew swiftly.

And that was before they discovered what it  could actually do. Ingested, it allowed a person to see a life swim before his eyes. Not his own of course, but the life of the person the soul had previously belonged to. Everything he could remember, everything that had a part in shaping him as a person, would wash over the ingester in a matter of seconds. All his highs and lows condensed into an instant.     And luckily, as the mind tends to remember the good above the bad, the rush was mostly one of pure joy.

Needless to say, most countries were quick to condemn men who damned the immortal souls of others for their own amusement, but uncaring hedonists and the decadent still got drunk on the short lives of lesser men; although it quickly became clear that there was little to enjoy from the life of a beggar. This was what led to the rise of the shadowy consortium known as the Purgatory. Black marketeers, it is said there is no kind of soul in the world they wouldn't be able to get their hands on. For the right price. They dress in black and only deal with customers in darkened crossroads; often they sell their ill-gotten gains, but on occasion they will provide a  service or a soul in return for the promise of a new soul on a later date. A purgatory debt is not an easy one to pay.

But while the more crude uses of souls were widely explored, the scientists were still baffled by their own creation. But it dawned on them that it was somehow inherently connected to life; you could not make a soul without leaving a corpse behind. Also, memories were clearly involved. Was it perhaps possible to rekindle life with a soul?
Many attempts were made, but to little avail at first. Alchemists and life-theurges continued to work tirelessly in an attempt to ressurrect but a single person, but only after many years did they have something resembling success. They had not created life, but they had created the semblance of it.

They named their creations caryatides. The first one was a young woman who had drowned in a small creek. She breathed and her heart beat. Yet her eyes stared blankly ahead and she would only take food if forced. More followed. Gradually, the caryatides became more capable. They were mindless, but with a perfectly crafted soul distillate they could draw on half-forgotten talents. Distillates made from singers gave the caryatide a beautiful singing voice, distillates fashioned from musicians allowed the caryatide to gently wield an instrument; they quickly became popular with less scrupulous members of high society.        

 
Hmm, some stuff I wrote about crossbows and crossbow brands a while back

Crossbows in the Known World
The crossbow is one of the more intricate personal weapons known to mankind. They are complex and delicate devices, yet also extremely powerful and dependable. This has led crossbows to become a common sight throughout the world.

The crossbows of the modern world are hand-made by a few select craftsmen and guilds. Each maker makes a very different kind of weapon, each with their own quirks and strengths. Crowlsmith crossbows are known to be sturdy and durable, but otherwise of poor quality, Amester-Holts are complex and exquisite, known for quality and accuracy and for their many clever additions, and Holmein crossbows are light and cheap. Buying a crossbow has become more than just a question of funds; it is now also a question of taste and what you require of your weapon.      
 
Brands
Amester-Holt (Extras, Great, Expensive)
Very expensive and always custom-made. Every weapon is a beautiful piece of art designed to its wielder's exact specifications. They are effective weapons, but Amester-Holt's understanding of the weapon itself and its potential is not as perfect as their craftsmanship. Their crossbows are not the best for war, but they are exquisite in many other ways and are the most likely to be outfitted with some of the more exotic additions making them on par with even a Kronecher.  

Kronecher (powerful, steady, Great, Expensive)
If you ask any mercenary who has wielded a crossbow what brand of crossbow he'd rather have, they'll answer Kronecher. Kronecher crossbows are known for being the epitome of what a crossbow can aspire to be. They are powerful and durable, made from light hallowwood or morrowood and with strings from the thread of the gray spider or the silk of the white moth larvae. They can knock through inches of solid wood, and punch through most any armor.  

Crowlsmith (Sturdy, heavy, decent)
Sturdy handiwork from the Khierian capital, Crowlsmith crossbows are valued as they never fail or fall apart. Beyond that one strength, they are slightly below average as their sturdy construction lacks some of the required flexibility of a crossbow.

Holmein (cheap, light, weak)
Holmein crossbows are cheap, light, and easy to use. They are not terribly good of course, for that price. But they can maim and kill as required, making them popular amongst poor bandits and highwaymen, as well as the occasional farmer with pest problems.

Gormalyev (powerful, decent, moderate price)
The old imperial crossbowmaker Gormalyev supplied thousands of mercenaries with his powerful crossbows. They are ugly and brutish looking, but they get the work done and will hold together at least throughout the battle (and if they don't, who'll be left to complain?). What you get in return is a weapon powerful enough to rival a Kronecher, perhaps even beat it on rare occasions. Gormalyev crossbows are simply put nasty pieces of work that can take a man's head off with a well-placed shot.

Havinger (extras (illicit),decent,  moderate)
A secretive man, Havinger mostly does work on request for people from the wrong side of town. His weapons are often modified versions of other brands, but he does make a few weapons himself. He is the only man (except for Amester-Holt) known to fashion hand crossbows, and one of the few who won't ask questions if you want to outfit your piece with a poison reservoir or modular or collapsible capabilities.

Kelleon (Impressive, weak, expensive)
Garish weapons to say the least, Joakim Kelleon is actually a jeweller by profession and it shows. He is one of the few craftsmen who specialize in making bejewelled swords and crossbows, and while they are hopeless as weapons (or at least not as good as you had hoped considering the enormous price) they are effective means of conveying a semblance of nobility or wealth. Thus, they are quite popular with young nobles and wealthy traders.  


And here is a bit about Reification. Not quite done by the looks of it, but getting there.

Reification
The wizard is a common character of bards' tales. The powerful, scheming wizards of ancient kingdoms, who controlled winds and fire with incantations and words of power. Sadly, the real world is not like that; there are no spells, no ancient incantations or powerful wizards with a clear pronounciation and flamboyant gestures. But that isn't to say there isn't a grain of truth to the old stories. The idea of words of power has some merit to it, but it has been twisted from its original meaning. It is not about pronounciation, length, ancient memorized phrases or ritualistic invocations. It's about the inherent power hidden in all words: common or arcane.

It is an old art and it goes by the name of reification. The reifier doesn't control anything with words, but instead derives power from the word itself and its meaning by bringing it into physical existence. They adhere to the belief that everything we see in this world is a reflection of something purer: a Form. Just like a shadow can take many shapes depending on from where the light shines, the reflection of a form can take many shapes. Just because two chairs look different they are both undeniably chairs. But reifiers don't deal in the words of objects; they deal in concepts.

The Form of a chair is an Absolute. Everybody can agree on the meaning of "chair" even if they can't put it in words; there is no doubt associated with the word, no ambiguity. It is well defined. But most concepts are ambigious. An event might be considered just by one person and unjust by another. These words have meaning but are ill-defined, and this makes them Vagaries. Reifiers exploit this fracture between the real and the ideal. An idealization like an Absolute would never be able to exist in our world; you can never make something perfect and universal like that exist alongside the imperfections of reality. But a Vagary isn't quite an ideal and thus it isn't quite barred from our world.    

The meaning of any word is essentially an idea, and drawing an idea into the physical world is not an easy task. They call it Evocation. The idea must be vivid in one's mind and yet you must not fix it there. If fixed you focus on one interpretation of it; you make it an absolute of your own. Doubt is thus integral to the process of Reification, a principle they call the Fallacy of Infallibility. But once the thought is in the head, it is only a matter of making the thought stronger and then getting it out. Exotic nootropic drugs and hallucinogens help achieve the first goal. Each Evocation often requires its own concoction, and reifiers tend to design their own.

When the power of the thought reaches a certain point it will start manifesting. It will begin turning into a Geist; an animate spectral entity of meaning. At this point there is no stopping the process; the Geist will attempt to tear itself free of the mind and then it will attempt to possess a living sentient creature. Why it possesses the living is essentially unknown, but it is theorised that it seeks to take solace in the presence of thoughts and words. The Reifier will usually be their first victim. It's possible to fight the possession and subdue the geist for a while, but it is terribly risky and most prefer to contain it beforehand. In this modern day and age this is usually done by powerful magnetic fields.  

Now a manifested geist can only really be dealt with in four ways: It can be destroyed, it can be stored, it can take possession of someone or it can be bound to the body by the reifier. Destruction is most commonly achieved by destroying a vessel holding the creature, but there are more esoteric ways to do it. Imprisonment requires pure iron: a substance which has an intrinsic meaning keyed to impregnability and strength. The geist will react to this meaning and be powerless to break through it. To make it bond to the inside of the container, usually a flask, the inside is carved with the word the geist is derived from as a lure. Possession is easy to achieve. Merely put a living body in the vicinity of the geist. Lastly, there is binding.

Binding is the most difficult and painful. Again, pure iron is used but this time in the form of nails ubiquitously carved with the geist's word in minute letters. With a small hammer the nails are driven through the spectral geist and into the flesh of the reifiers arm, binding them together forever. The reifier thus shares a small part of his body and soul with the occult being, and can draw on some of its power.      
 

wow. This is a lot (yay). Good thing I have tomorrow off.

So far I've read just the Cold, the Flood, and the Promise, and they are all good stuff. I like the Cold, because it creates a unique device as to why the northern lands are unsettles, unconquered, and uncouth. The Flood is also good, but could use a shot of BV strange, it just seems like the Mongols in the China, but with black skin.

The promise is neat though, it rings of anachronism (which I do believe you're going for), future plot devices, and also a good reason why the Cardinal Houses are so wealthy.

I'll read more in a bit. And i do believe the gauntlet has been thrown, so now I'll REALLY have to work harder - which is not saying much considering how much I'm working now.

Quote from: Conundrum Crowconstant obsessing over minor details

Got that same problem myself. But a good deal of your stuff here seems pretty well-developed to me. The Therennial Cycle and the Nowhere Legion for example.

Is there no significant variation in accuracy, range and the speed of reloading between the crossbow brands?

@Leetz: the shot of weird is always the hardest, especially when it has to fit with the rest of the setting. I'll think about it. It would probably involve some quirks about their reign. I'm not really sure why you call the Promise anachronistic exactly, but I'm glad you like it! Quite fond of that as well. I do also like anachronisms, so you were right in that as well. I'm eagerly awaiting the rest of your comments!

@Ghostman: yes, it's a horrible habit. Although it does often result in decent writing.
What I wanted to do with crossbows is to essentially make it take the place of firearms. A loaded crossbow screams of being a dramatic and visceral weapon. A gun is essentially an easy-to-use death wand: point and stuff dies. This is a simplification, of course, but guns do tend to be very undramatic. There is no "skill" to them (that isn't to say that everyone can shoot well, just that anyone can pull the trigger). There is a reason they invariably end up on the floor in movie scuffles and there is a reason everybody loves the nonsensical pneumatic crossbow from Van Helsing.
(this basically boils down to "crossbows are cool")    
But I wanted crossbows to be a bit more than just copies of Standard Issue 1.0. Just like you often hear of swords made by famous smiths in fantasy books, I wanted crossbows made by famed master craftsmen.  

That was a very long rant which managed to not answer a single of your questions. What I tried to say was merely that, just like different guns have different characteristics, there is a lot of difference between individual crossbows. Even from the same craftsman. Gormalyev crossbows would have a long range because of the sheer power they produce, but they are probably not terribly accurate compared to Havinger crossbows, which might have been custom-made for assassins. And when you get to the high end brand, such as Kronecher, Amester-Holt, and Havinger, you get to draw on small bits of fantasy and anachronicities to make those weapons very fearsome. This also adds a nice progression for roleplaying games. In the beginning you might only have a sturdy Crowlsmith or an old Holmein but as you progress you might get your hands on more formidable crossbows.  

Quote from: Conundrum Crow@Leetz: the shot of weird is always the hardest, especially when it has to fit with the rest of the setting. I'll think about it. It would probably involve some quirks about their reign. I'm not really sure why you call the Promise anachronistic exactly, but I'm glad you like it! Quite fond of that as well. I do also like anachronisms, so you were right in that as well. I'm eagerly awaiting the rest of your comments!

just because the peace settlement seems very modern, very sophisticated, and very, well, peaceful.

Quote from: Conundrum CrowBut I wanted crossbows to be a bit more than just copies of Standard Issue 1.0. Just like you often hear of swords made by famous smiths in fantasy books, I wanted crossbows made by famed master craftsmen.

I've been trying to do the same thing - make items and equipment more interesting and personal - but by using different materials instead. Anyways, though, I also really liked the crossbow companies. I hope you don't take offense to this, but it reminded me of the wand-makers in Harry Potter (I mean that in the best possible way) and also of 18/19th century English companies of whatever.

Ah yes, at least from the Hororine perspective. I'm pretty sure war will occur shortly thereafter between the new landowners; instantaneously transferring all government across an entire continent into new hands can't go down too well logistically.

Any comments on the rest of it Leetz? (or others)
I'd especially like some feedback on Ensoulment and Reification.

Your writing is evocative with out being wordy, I'm very jealous.

I love the 4 Elder Gods, their lore and names are great! I'd love to read more about them in general.

On Reification:

That took me a few reads to fully understand. Very Kafka-esque. But what exactly can Reification do? Are the geists tangible allies or ephemeral advisers? If the reifier Evokes a chair, like your example, will you eventually get a sentient ghost chair? I'm somewhat confused on that.

Ghouls
One of the eeriest beasts to prowl the moorlands and forests of Besmakia, the ghoul is a creature surrounded by more myth than fact. Some claim the ghouls are the risen corpses of those who were too greedy in life, but  sages and scholars of Kisvem and Old Setch swear they have seen beating hearts under the cold, clammy skins of captured ghouls on the vivisectionist's table.
Yet even after years of study, many unanswered questions remain. Where did they come from? Why do they look so like us? The ghoul appears much as a naked human, but its body is hairless and its limbs disproportionately long.Their bodies are gaunt, yet sinewy, with sickly pale skin draped loosely across it. Its eyes are the narrow dark eyes of a hunter and its mouth is framed with the yellow fangs of a predator.  
They run and hunt in packs at night with a loping quadropedal gait and feed mostly on corpses and carrion. They have a taste for human flesh and are known to linger around graveyards and the sites of battle. Especially in the winter, they are known to attack living creatures, but fire and sheer numbers have been known to scare them off. Ghouls will gorge themselves if food is readily available, stretching their loose skin until taut. To aid them in this effort they have the uncanny ability to unhinge their jaw, an ability they use both in feeding and displays of dominance. After a significant feeding, a ghoul can live off its fat for days or weeks and often fall into a deep slumber for a time.
They are not intelligent but they are cunning like most  other scavengers and carrion eaters such as the raven and the rat. They do not talk, but they communicate within the pack, often by clacking their teeth,  and possess a final disconcerting ability: the ability of mimicry. They have been known to imitate human voices and while the sages again claim their use of words is innocent, any superstitious outdoorsman will be quick to tell you otherwise. It only makes matters worse that most repeated voices are the last words (or dying screams) of the last human they encountered. While their voices could be misinterpreted as human, especially at a distance, their is a distinct raspy inhumane note to it. The nature of their  "human" screams is much more apparent; most who hear that sound will be haunted by it for days on end.
Although they will luckily never pass for human, a few eccentric noblemen (especially Eberian and Khierian) and would-be vogues have claimed chained ghouls as pets. Although often displayed as freaks by their master, the ghouls will often grow close to and protective of its owner.        

A small entry from the Broken Verge bestiary. Is it evocative enough? Or did I perhaps go too far in my feeble attempts to make them horrifying yet intriguing, turning them into overdone clichéd feature-pillars?

I love the section on crossbows.  Really adds detail and history to an otherwise mundane bit of equipment.

I missed some of this the first time round.  I love the gods in the first post.  Are there any other cosmic beings in the Therennial Cycle (dead gods, demigods, demons, titans, angels, spirits, what-have-you), or are the four gods the only beings recognized by the faith?  Would followers of the four recognize the existence of other deities, such as the Lady of the Sweetest Breath?

I really like the imitative nature of the ghouls, and the idea of keeping them as weird pets.

The part of worldcrafting that troubles me the most is still putting the parts together...
The Therennial Cycle was always meant to have sprung from more primordial traditions and faiths and it might well have carried a few of their superstitions and myths with it. On the other hand, it is very much an established religion. I'm in the beginning stages of developing a more ancient counterpart to it in the form of the Urd. It will be spirit worship steeped in occultism; right now I'm going for the feel of "East European voodoo". I'm thinking the Therennials might have something of an ongoing feud with the Urdists as they share common roots while the Church isn't keen on sharing its worshippers.

I love saints, devils and pilgrims, but I'm having some trouble featuring them all. Saints will be featured primarily through the Church of Inheritance who maintain that the god(s) are dead and humans have inherited the earth and the saints will guide us to glory. Only issue is, that most of their living saints have died (see Berend). I think this "religion" would do nicely as a sort of enlightened renaissance man-worship which draws its worshippers from the ranks of other gods by claiming their demise. Only the way they are currently implemented (again, see Berend) really doesn't describe them properly as a religion. Also, they are too centralized when I'd rather have them be scattered. Still, I love Berend and would hate to tear it apart.

As to devils, I was considering drawing some inspiration from the published setting Golarion. I'm not overly fond of it, it being a DivSet setting to the core, but it does have a few good ideas. E.g. troll augurs who read their own entrails. Always makes me smirk. Anyway, it also has Cheliax; its big, bad, decadent empire. Which has turned to devil worship. While mine would not be so big, and probably have more worship than actual devils, I like the idea. Only wish I could have more devils or at least place them in connection to a faith. Probably won't be the Cycle though, as it draws more from pagan faiths; malevolent spirits and trickster godlings are more fitting.

I have also considered angels, but they probably won't be tied to a religion. Instead they will be big, horned, faceless and speak in riddles.

Quote from: Conundrum CrowI have also considered angels, but they probably won't be tied to a religion. Instead they will be big, horned, faceless and speak in riddles.

I'd just like to say that this sounds freaking awesome. Would be a shame to not have them included.

>>A small entry from the Broken Verge bestiary. Is it evocative enough? Or did I perhaps go too far in my feeble attempts to make them horrifying yet intriguing, turning them into overdone clichéd feature-pillars?

How long have Ghouls been seen? Are they a recent phenomena or have they always been around?

They have been around as long as anyone can remember. They are neither necromantic experiments nor symptoms of a plague. They simply are. Yet their appearance and behaviour sets them apart from a common beast in the eyes of most people.