The Campaign Builder's Guild

My god that was a well written description of the city.  The Garden of Sanctimony is particularly fantastic.  I feel like writing up descriptions of small places (inns, squares, etc) for my own cities now, or writing out narratives for them as you've done.

One question just to start: is the Overseer's title hereditary?

Quote from: SteerpikeOne question just to start: is the Overseer's title hereditary?

Well, the Umbril don't have heredity, so that's not possible - even if the Overseer took part in the spore-cloud rituals, there would be no way of knowing which sporeling was its own (if any).  Originally (during the Age of Prophets) the Overseer was appointed by the city's Fruit-eater superiors (that is, diviners), but since the Recentering the Overseer has chosen its own successor.  How it makes this choice is unknown, but "being Umbril" appears to be an essential factor.  Usually the new Overseer is chosen from high officials around the old Overseer, who themselves are not very well known by the public.

This installation of the Bestiary features a few more "mundane" creatures of the Forest, including a kind of livestock, as well as another variety of Aras Tay, intelligent insects, and... evil fire?

Cat, Speckled

Speckled cats found throughout the Forest, preying on a wide variety of Forest creatures.  A speckled cat resembles a leopard, but '" as one might expect from the low gravity of the environment '" they are comparatively lithe, with slender limbs and a longer, more svelt physique.  While they might not be as strong as a similar predatory cat on Earth, they are significantly faster, and can leap amazing distances.  Speckled cats have extremely strong jaw muscles and are able to crush bones in their mouths; these same jaws can also open to an extreme angle, allowing them to swallow prey (or chunks of it) much larger than one would normally assume.

The fur of a speckled cat is black, covered in many irregular-shaped blotches of dark green from which the creature derives its name.  Speckled cat hides carry a good value in fur and hide markets, and are commonly traded by deep Forest caravans.  Their teeth and claws also find wide use as components of jewelry, charms and talismans, handicrafts, utensils, and so on.  Cog speckled cats are well known as a source of good Cogsteel teeth for knives and spear-points.

Speckled cats organize themselves into prides and prefer to hunt in groups, singling out a weak, aged, or otherwise vulnerable individual and attempting to separate him from the rest of the group.  They are especially keen to target lone travelers, as numbers factor first and foremost into their conception of how dangerous a prey animal is.

Speckled cats are iconic creatures of the Forest, occupying a place in the popular imagination that (for instance) wolves did in Earth's pre-modern history '" crafty, ferocious pack hunters that stalk the wilderness.  Like wolves, they are featured in many stories, fables, legends, and so on, often as a 'stock villain.'  Some Iskites, for instance, tell a story very similar to 'the boy who cried wolf' that involves a speckled cat and a herd of saszihs.

Emkulun

During the wet season, the Forest is under a nearly constant deluge.  In some places, the rain never stops at all; at the very least it is a light drizzle, churning into a roaring storm with little warning.  This is the season of the 'ethereal cliffs' of the Greenwash, great curtains of steam that arise from rain falling upon exposed lava, and the sudden mudslides of the Maw that can swallow a caravan whole.  When the heavens pour, fire stands precious little chance unless it is carefully protected.  Lightning may ignite a tree briefly, but these conflagrations do not endure.

When the clouds begin to lighten and the sun begins to reign again, however, the creatures of the Forest have reason to fear.  This is the Yellow Season, the season of wildfires '" and where there are wildfires, there may be the Emkulun.  The word comes from the Tahr root emku, meaning 'fire.'  The dialect it was originally spoken in is unclear, but it probably means 'living fire' or 'creature of fire.'  Other names include Cinder-veil (made popular by a Gheen children's song), Soulfire, and Darkling Flame.

Wildfires are dangerous enough on their own.  Started by lightning as the wet season wanes, they can destroy many thousands of acres of Forest before they burn themselves out or are quenched by a chance rain.  Some burn for entire seasons, becoming geographical features in their own right until the next wet season comes.  Yet for all the trouble they cause, wildfire is recognized as a force of renewal as well, a 'purge' that the weather inflicts upon the Forest that it may be transformed.  Many animals and plants are unique to such burn zones, and young 'ash forests' composed of unique and wondrous flora emerge out of the ruins of the Forest primeval.  Sometimes, however, something happens to these fires '" something that turns them from a neutral force of destruction and rejuvenation to a terrible menace to all living things.

Emkuluns are, physically, fires '" they have no 'anatomy.'  They appear exactly like regular fire, save that the heart of the flame is not orange, yellow, or even white, but a purple so dark it is nearly black.  It has a place in this bestiary because it lives '" Soulfire, heedless of the wind's currents or the land's swell, races in whatever way it wishes.  It is hungry and malicious, and barrels towards creatures and settlements it encounters.  It seems to delight in causing terror, and will play cruel tricks on the hapless creatures it finds '" encircling them and slowly moving in as they cry helplessly, or appearing to die down and then bursting forth from the trees again when all believe the threat has passed.  There is no doubt that Soulfire is animated by some malign force, though some disagree as to whether it is truly evil or whether it simply requires fear and terror to slake its thirst.  Those who survive it express few doubts that it is the former.

The Emkulun is especially feared because so little is known about it.  They seem to form spontaneously from existing wildfires, with no rhyme or reason to their birth.  They plainly exhibit cruelty, but do not in any other way appear to have a mind '" trying to communicate or reason with them is just as effective as trying to do the same with a regular forest fire.  Cinder-veils have been present throughout recorded history, yet only theories have emerged as to their nature and purpose '" some say they are sent by an angry fire god, or that the always fickle Forest itself creates them, while others claim that they are manifestations of evil thoughts or spirits of the restless dead that become trapped in the fire on their way to the afterlife (the latter is the predominant Tahr view).  In the end, they burn themselves out like any wildfire and defy all attempts to stop them prematurely, though some survivors claim intercession on behalf of their gods saved them.  They leave no clues behind, only swirling ash, smoking rubble, and charred bones.

Gaural

The Gaural, also known as the Grinning Demon, is a predator native to the Great Mire that is even more feared than Imauwr's Brood (as the Mire Wyrms of the Great Mire are called).  Gaurals have bodies resembling a crocodile (though they can grow up to 20 feet long), but with a bizarrely oversized wedge-shaped head.  Their enormous mouths seem set in a permanent smile, interrupted only when they open their mouths to reveal multiple rows of serrated teeth.  The Gaural is a lethargic beast that lies in wait with most of its body nestled in the mud.  It saves its energy for sudden strikes, leaping up from the muck to grab, crush, and swallow prey in an instant.  Despite its size, it is ill-suited to combat; it has difficulty keeping track of multiple objects and cannot quickly move its massive head.  It prefers to lurk near deeper ponds and lakes which it can retreat into after suddenly grabbing one member of a herd (or adventuring party).  Gaurals can hold their breath for hours; they have what appear to be gills, but these are vestigial '" when newly born, Gaural young breathe only water, and transition into air-breathers over time.  As young water-breathers, Gaurals feed primarily on fish and lake-bottom detritus, regularly supplemented by kills brought back to them by their mother.

Cog Gaurals exist but are less dangerous than one might assume, as they lack the camouflage of the normal creature and can often be avoided.  If they do catch prey unaware, however, it is always a very short encounter.

Izif

The Izif (the name is derived from the sound of their wings, and is both singular, plural, and an adjective) are a race of hive insects that can be found in most drier areas of the Forest, especially 'high forest' regions and wooded foothills.  Most izif are 'drones,' winged six-legged insects about the size of a large housecat.  They forage for the hive and are not particularly intelligent '" they behave as one might expect any insect to, and resist all attempts at communication.

Their hives are known as 'towers,' though most of the hive itself is underground.  Izif drones mix mud, sticks, and their own saliva to build clusters of tall vertical tubes that descend into the ground; the construction is presumably to keep non-flying creatures of the forest floor out of their hive.  Izif tunnels can accommodate a Gheen, but larger creatures will be in for a tight squeeze (if they can get through at all).  Within dwells the queen, a much larger specimen (about the size of an adult Iskite, though thin enough to squeeze through the hive tubes).  The Queen has wings, but they are not big enough to support her body in flight; she lacks a stinger, but her mandibles are strong and sharp.

Unlike the non-sentient drones, izif Queens are quite intelligent.  They are not physiologically able to speak a language, but can use other means to communicate with a creature.  The life-force of the drones is continually connected to the Queen's own spirit through something that resembles a channeler's link '" in effect, izif Queens are constantly channeling, and manifest many of the powers of practiced channelers themselves.  They especially favor the creation of empathic links, which they use to communicate basic ideas, emotions, and concepts to those they want something from.  The link they have with their drones does not allow them to instantly command them or see through their eyes, but the Queen knows the rough location, health, and crude emotional state (anger, curiosity, etc.) of all her drones at any one time.  As a side effect of this continual channeling, izif towers usually have an unusually large number of cogs in their vicinity.  Cog hunters often seek their quarry around hives, knowing that they will likely not have to wait long.

Individually, izif drones are not very dangerous '" they have no natural weapons save a stinger.  Their venom, while excruciatingly painful, is lethal only to small animals.  In groups, however, they have several tactics they use to deal with aggressive animals.  If a creature is not dissuaded by constant stings, they will swarm it en masse and attempt to cover it with their bodies.  They will cover their target with layer upon layer of vibrating insect bodies, concentrating their body heat to such a degree that the target loses consciousness (or simply dies).  Many drones usually die in the process, but they are heedless of danger and will not hesitate to throw their lives away for a momentary advantage.

Izif are generally nonaggressive, and attack only those who poke around their hives or attack them first.  Their queens, however, are capable of producing a pheromone that makes them go berserk and swarm any animal they find.  This is usually only used when the hive faces a very serious threat.  The giant dragonflies of the Forest prey upon izif drones, and groups of drones will attack them on sight.  This has led the Tahro, who revere dragonflies as messengers of the spirit world, to conclude that izif are evil.  Many among them believes that the izif harass and try to devour souls on their way to the spirit world, and some even say that especially wicked individuals will be reincarnated as drones.  The other civilized races are ambivalent about the creatures.

Izif are important to their environment in another way '" they do not tolerate the merest presence of the Saffron Moss in their territory, and drones will carefully excise every last piece of it they find.  The Forest for acres around a izif tower is virtually guaranteed to be Peril-free, as the drones meticulously search every nook and cranny from the floor to the canopy.  It is unknown why they are so particular about the Peril; in the empathic communications of their Queens, it is referred to by the concept 'the enemy.'  Drones have difficulty killing abominations ('drones of the enemy'), as the moss-animated dead are not susceptible to overheating, and on rare occasions a Queen will reach out to local civilized communities or nearby travelers to assist them in this.  In exchange, they readily offer membranous sacs of nectar, but the civilized races generally do not have a use for this (though supposedly it can be made into a kind of mead).  Queens will attempt to barter with whatever else they may have access to, but they have a very limited understanding of the wants or needs of species other than theirs.

Cog izif exist, but only drones.  They are never found alone, and are always integrated into hives with other "organic" izif.  As Cogs are living creatures themselves - though mechanical - Queens can maintain the same link with them as they do with their other drones, and do not distinguish between the two.  Cog drones have no venom, but are equally effective in the swarming attacks of their fellows.

Mirau (Aras Tay, Lesser)

The Mirau, also known as the 'greenwyrm,' is a well known type of Aras Tay that can be found soaring above the canopy.  Individuals can grow up to a dozen feet long with an equally wide wingspan.  The mirau loosely resembles a great bird, but on even a cursory inspection it becomes clear that it is a very different creature.  What appear to be green feathers are actually waxy leaves that serve an identical purpose.  It has four wings, two larger ones that sprout from its body and two smaller ones extending outwards from its tail.  The head of the creature most closely resembles a hummingbird, with a long, thin snout and tendril-like tongue which it uses to extract the nectar from canopy flowers.

Miraui 'flower' once a year at the beginning of the wet season; they grow a massive white mane of tiny seeds (precisely like a dandelion), and then shed them in a great plume of twirling white seeds that gradually dissipates over acres of Forest.  Many become caught in the canopy or are eaten by animals, but a few reach the murky twilight of the forest floor, where they sprout and grow into a massive flower bud that eventually blooms to reveal a new mirau.  They are the Forest's embodiment of unrestrained fecundity, sowing their seed by the millions wherever they chance to fly.  Because of this association, it is widely believed that their seeds promote fertility and can even cure the barren, and mirau seeds are a very valuable commodity (not because they are rare, but because it is so difficult to gather a substantial amount after they have been scattered to the winds).  The Tahro consider it very good fortune to happen across a mirau blossom during a migration, and sometimes build camps around such sites, continuing to use them long after the mirau has blossomed and departed.

Canopy Wyrms and large predatory birds who make the sky their home are universally carnivores and have no interest in eating a mirau.  Consequently, they have no natural predators.  Notably, wyrms do not give them any attention at all, much unlike their treatment of khautas.  Unlike many other Aras Tay, they are docile and nonaggressive, and '" being very capable fliers '" will simply flee from danger.  They make no sounds of any kind, and like other Aras Tay seem either incapable or unwilling to communicate at all.

Saszih

Saszihs (derived from the LT (s')ass, meaning 'feather') or 'Village Birds' are large, flightless birds native to the Chalklands that some Iskite villages raise for meat, eggs, and feathers.  The domesticated breed is notably different from the wild flocks that still exist in the Chalklands, which are leaner and much less docile.  They stand about four feet at the shoulder, with a neck that can reach up to two feet higher.  Iskite youths sometimes ride them for fun, but they are not seriously used as mounts and cannot support a fully grown Iskite.  Their dull tan feathers are used for insulating hatchery nests and sleeping mats.  In areas where they are raised, their eggs form an important supplement to the Iskite diet of grain and squash.  In the Chalklands, it is believed that wild Saszihs unlucky enough to fall into the ever-present sinkholes are a common feast for the Golhai, who refer to them in their mind-language as 'large-feather-lightlings.'

There were once Cog Saszihs that roamed with the wild population in the Chalklands, but none have been seen in many years as a result of generations of scrap-hunting.  They are the only Cog 'species' believed to be truly extinct.

Spider, Ambuscade

Ambuscade Spiders, also known as Colony-eaters, Lurkers and Neheel's Children, are very large and very dangerous carnivores.  Ambuscade Spiders are lone hunters who hide in the low understory and drop down upon unsuspecting victims.  Their skin is a near-black green that blends in perfectly in the darkness of their preferred habitat, and though they do not spin webs, they do use silk strands to hang motionless from higher branches and lower themselves silently towards the forest floor.  Mature adults can grow to the size of a car, and they inject a powerful nerve toxin through their fangs that renders a victim helpless in convulsions of pain.  They are single-minded, but cunning and patient enough to lie in wait near populated areas and pick off members of the population.  Lurkers are considered extreme menaces by all the civilized races, though they hunt primarily on the forest floor and thus don't come after Gheen very often.

Cog Ambuscade Spiders are considered even more dangerous (though they lack venom and silk, they are far stronger and harder to kill), especially to channelers, whose energies attract them (like all Cogs).  The civilized peoples of the Forest sometimes wonder what kind of sadist would want to replicate such a creature, and the existence of Cog ambuscade spiders calls the sanity and/or benevolence of the ancients into serious question.

Spider, Whistling

The Whistling Spider or Saryet Spider (which comes from their Gheen proper name sa'aryee'eyt, meaning '˜blind fisherman') is a common species of giant tree spider.  Whistlers are about the size of a large dog, and unlike most spiders they are social animals.  They live in enormous web networks in the understory and canopy, which a 'cluster' of 2-4 dozen adult spiders maintain and repair.  They live off flying prey that blunders into their webs, which they share among the cluster.  They usually eat small birds and large insects, though they will happily devour a lone Gheen who glides into their webs.  They are not aggressive by nature, and if a creature larger or more dangerous than them gets caught, they will cut their own webs and let it fall to the forest floor (often to its death), repair the hole, and continue their wait.

Whistling Spiders are totally blind '" they have no eyes at all, and remain of their surroundings through echolocation (clicks, chirps, and whistles, from which they derive their common name) and vibrations they detect in their webs (which, for that reason, they rarely stray from).  It is difficult to determine exactly how intelligent Whistlers are, but they seem to use their noises as a language to communicate with each other and often use complex coordination and tactics within the cluster.  They mark the death of one of their own with a distinctive 'death trill,' after which they solemnly lower him/her to the forest floor on a silken thread.  Such practices have caused some to categorize the Saryets as a Primordial race, though the Gheen flatly deny that they are anything but simple pests.

Gheen make up only a small part of their diet, but the Gheen consider them dangerous adversaries nonetheless and clear them away from their dreys.  They might be exterminated entirely from areas in which Gheen live were it not for their silk, which '" when treated to remove the sticky coating '" makes an extremely tough, resilient, and fashionable fabric used for clothing, nets, and even armor.  Saryets will allow some 'harvesting' from their web if the invaders are powerful, large, or numerous enough to dissuade them from responding, but the best silk comes from the cocoons they use to bundle up their egg sacs '" and the cluster will defend those to the death.

Whistling Spiders have no Cog counterpart.  Some believe this is because it would be too difficult to make a Cog capable of spinning web, while others argue that it is a sign the Saryets are intelligent (for no truly 'intelligent' races have Cog doubles) '" but nobody really knows the minds of the Ancients.

[ic=Excerpt, 'The Trial of the Saffronite']They led her out of the cage and doused her with lamp-oil, which soaked her sorry rags and soiled the ground where she walked.  The crowd jeered, calling out 'see the Abomination, see the traitor,' and they whipped her with thistle branches as she was led to the apex of the ruin.  Her hands were bound with brambles, and she wore jewelry '" necklaces, bracelets, even a crown '" all made of dry thorns.  As she ascended the mount in this mock finery, led onward towards the post by chapter guards in their dun-colored armor, the Speaker called out: 'So the Master perished; so the slave perishes; so must they all perish.'  The crowd answered in a great booming cacophony, from which I could glean no words.

The guards tied her upright to the post, which was festooned with orange-dyed boughs in the garish imitation of a tree.  Her head was bowed too low to see her face, and if there were tears there, I could not see them through the blood and oil that still dripped from her brow.  She made no sound at all as they bound her.  The crowd edged closer and threw their bloodstained thistle-boughs around her feet in a great pile.

Then the guard bearing the torch came forward, and the Speaker held it high.  'In Vao's name,' he called, 'In the Martyr's memory,' and he touched the brand to her.  In seconds she was consumed in a flame so hot that those in the crowd standing closest covered their faces with their hands, and yet their cheers were undiminished as the condemned one writhed and turned to ashes.

- En-Mathil Ivam, Umbril Chronicler[/ic]



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The Aras Tay '" the strange and often violent fey of the Clockwork Jungle '" are known to all the Forest's residents.  They soar over the canopy and stalk through the underbrush, the embodiment of the stark and uncaring heart of the Forest itself.  They are not exactly common, but neither are they particularly unique.  Wherever the Forest grows, there you may see its spirits, enacting its will through the cycles of their unfathomable lives.  But they are not the only fey in the world, nor are they the Forest's lone defenders.  The Forest has its own champions that cause the Elder Wyrms themselves to bow their ancient brows.

The 'greater' Aras Tay are the near-immortal servants of the Forest that dwarf every other kind of life.  Unlike their lesser cousins, they are each unique in form, unduplicated by any creature upon the face of the world.  The lesser Aras Tay may be the ferocity and pitilessness of the Forest, but the greater Aras Tay are its incredible majesty and power, sublime and magnificent in their every move and heedless of the mere mortals that scurry about beneath them.  Many worship them as gods, but few have ever gained their notice, for they are the travelers of the verdant ages for whom a season is a mere heartbeat.

The number of greater Aras Tay appears to be around two dozen, but there are likely some that live far from the 'center' of the Forest, in its deepest reaches where civilized eyes have yet to see.  Some travel widely and are known to many, while others remain obscure in their private domains of Forest.  Nobody can say what drives them to wander, or what compels them to stay.  Only once in history's long and misty memory have they moved together towards a clear goal, when the existence of life itself was threatened by the enemy of life, and the light of civilization was nearly extinguished.

It is unclear what the "purpose" of the greater Aras Tay is, but even asking the question may be folly - to the Forest, there is no purpose beyond life, death, and the eternal struggle between them.  Some who care to guess say that they are facets of the Forest's will, living weapons against the Peril, gods that arose from the soil at the dawn of time, or the rulers of the Forest attended by every living thing.

The 'Keepers of the Trees' have many names, but are often known by brief appellations which have no recorded meaning.  Perhaps they were named in forgotten generations past, or perhaps their names are primal utterances whispered on the pollen-laden wind when the Forest first bloomed.

Vao
'The Martyr,' 'Lord of Brambles'

Prior to the Recentering, Vao was a relatively unknown greater Aras Tay, an obscure figure who loomed over the sparsely populated depths of the Clawed Thicket.  Since the fateful series of events that led to its destruction, Vao has emerged as the posthumous champion of the Forest '" indeed, the world '" to those who know the true role of the Aras Tay in the defeat of the Peril and the Dominion Tree.

Vao was a colossus of twisting woody stems, a great hulk of thorns and brambles that stood above the tallest trees of the Clawed Thicket.  Roughly bipedal in shape, Vao's body is usually described as shaped as if it were bent or hunched (and yet still hundreds of feet tall).  Accounts differ on how many arms Vao actually had; in all likelihood, considering its physical nature, the Lord of Brambles could have as many 'arms' as it wished.  It had no head, though some reported seeing eye-like hollows peering out of its body.

Vao's body was constantly wreathed by birds, who nested within its massive form along with monkeys, tappers, and other creatures of the canopy and understory.  There is even a tale of a Gheen Drey within its body, but that is almost certainly a fantastic tale spun after its destruction.  Supposedly, Vao itself left no footprints upon the Forest despite its massive size and weight.  It is also said that the 'forest bloomed' where it passed, though it should be remembered that this is a common trait ascribed to greater Aras Tay (and even lesser types) that in reality is shared by only a select few of their number.  Vao itself was never described as 'green' or flowering, only an enormous tangle of thorny brown branches.

The flowering of the Dominion Tree immediately ended the Age of the Prophets, turning every Fruit-eating diviner in the Forest into a slave of the Saffron Moss and beginning what was to become known as the Recentering.  Immediately, every Aras Tay from the least to the greatest turned towards the Mosswaste and began the great march: the Forest had turned with a unitary will against its great enemy.  Millions of Aras Tay and Abominations fought on the shores of the Netai beneath a sky darkened by Kuens and Miraui.  Vao was the first to break through the infested hordes and reach the Dominion Tree.  Beneath its branches, Vao fought the Guardian of the Tree, the corrupted Elder Wyrm Aederyl.  Aederyl set Vao alight with a gout of flame, but Vao proved to be the stronger combatant.  Grasping the Mosswyrm's jaws, it ripped his Moss-encrusted head apart.  Now a towering inferno, Vao wrapped itself around the trunk of the Dominion Tree, and the fire consumed them both.  For the civilized races, the terror was just beginning, but this act rendered the Peril senseless and saved them from what may have been their complete destruction.

Now, Vao is the object of worship in a large area around the Sea of Netai.  'Cults of the Forest Martyr' are widespread among the Umbril of the Great Mire and the Flowering Moors, the Iskites of the Scalemount, and the various communities of Netai, the Clawed Thicket, and the Chalicewood.  Many Indigo Chapters of the Netai take their inspiration from Vao '" or even their name, like the Iron Thistle, Sons of Vao, and the Wreath of Thorns.  As Vao articulated no dogma '" or anything at all '" the cults and chapters that claim to follow its 'teachings' often have very little in common with each other.

Emnol
'Vineheart,' 'The Green Traveler'

Though most greater Aras Tay tend to wander over the centuries, none journey as widely or as quickly as Emnol.  It is constantly moving, and in the last century has been seen from the Chokereed to Gearfall.  Some believe it seeks something, others simply assume it wanders for its own enjoyment '" assuming Aras Tay even experience 'enjoyment.'

Emnol is a tremendous mass of vines.  It does not 'move' in a traditional sense '" rather, it continually sprouts and grows new vines in the direction it wishes to travel in, while vines on its other side quickly wither, die, and fall away.  This happens so quickly that it makes the remarkably fast growth of the Forest itself look sluggish; Emnol grows so quickly that it can outrun most creatures of the Forest floor.  Creatures in its path are surprised by a sudden explosion of vines from the trees, each one sprouting into several more and stretching to grasp the trunks ahead.  The Forest is quickly so choked with vines that an observer within can hardly see more than fifty feet '" and then, just as suddenly as it grew, the vines wilt, turn brown, and crumble away, leaving little trace of its passage except a new layer of dead vegetation on the Forest floor.  Despite its great size, it does not 'trample' the environs it passes through, though occasionally a dead or weakened tree gives way under its weight.  It is advisable not to climb onto it, for though its vines are thick, they will soon give way.

Emnol blooms continually, though each flower does lasts a mere minute.  In that time, if a bird or insect does manage to carry Emnol's pollen to another plant, the eventual result is a very distinctive seed with a minute maze pattern seemingly etched into it.  These seeds are highly valued curiosities; when exposed to water, they grow explosively, reaching maturity (and their full size) within seconds.  Emnollan Seeds have even been employed as weapons, or worse '" according to legend, the Gheen adventuress Eylaa Iya tricked a hostile Venom Wyrm into swallowing one (with predictably graphic results).

Emnol has some scattered cults in its name, but its worship is more common among the travelers and adventurers of the world, for whom it is something like the patron spirit of the journey and the protector of those who dare venture beyond the comfort of home.

Poruai
'Creeping One,' 'The Ineffable'

Arguably the most bizarre of the greater Aras Tay, Poruai looks something like an enormous yellow slime mold.  Poruai oozes along the floor of the Maw, flowing between the trees and feeding off dead matter.  Where it has passed, the ground is bare dirt broken only by living plants, for Poruai harms nothing that lives (though it may still be possible to suffocate if one is trapped under it).  To travelers, this is a blessing; to the Umbril, it is a menace, as it consumes all the dead matter the Umbril subsist on in a broad swath.  Fortunately for them, it is only one entity.

What makes Poruai most unique, however, is that it alone among the greater Aras Tay appears to take a passing interest in lesser beings.  Occasionally, a channeling creature will attract its attention; it will approach them and reach out with a pseudopod formed into a rough facsimile of the creature.  If one is prepared to deal with this unnerving sight, Poruai can be asked questions, to which it will respond by molding this pseudopod into different shapes and creatures, though nothing terribly detailed.  Such 'answers' are vague at best; Poruai may be willing to communicate, but its mind is unarguably alien '" for instance, it sees time in terms of natural cycles and seems to have a very different concept of 'past' and 'present' than mortals do.  Still, there are many who believe it is a divine oracle of sorts, and cults in its name can be found among the Ajen and the Gheen of the Red Depths.  Even those who do not see it as a god may put faith in its cryptically imparted knowledge, and some travel great distances to try and gain its attention.

Because of its color, its amorphous shape, and the claim by some that it knows the future, there are many who associate it with the Saffron Moss and believe it to be evil, or perhaps another form of the Peril itself.  The knowledgeable know this cannot be the case; indeed, Poruai destroyed thousands of abominations before the destruction of the Dominion Tree.  Most, however, do not even know of the role the Aras Tay played in the Recentering.  Such knowledge is not widespread beyond the greater Netai region, and is often garbled and misinterpreted in the great distances between the scattered settlements of the world.  Ajen cults of Poruai on the Black Circle have come into conflict with Indigo Chapters before, as the prevailing understanding there among those who have heard of Poruai is that it is '" at the very least '" a malign force in the world.

Maru
'Longstrider,' 'The Night Sun'

The Gheen of the Skyshield have long told their kits of the Inner Light '" an eerie green glow that sometimes emanates from the deep Forest.  They say birds and insects fall silent, and the Cogs themselves prostrate themselves before the Walker of the Skyshield.  When the Light falls upon the boughs, Maru is close at hand, to steal away the bad children and make them into Aras Tay.

Such stories are only idle tales told to children, but Maru is very real.  Maru is a two hundred foot tall bipedal giant.  It would look almost humanlike but for its phenomenal gauntness '" even by the standards of the creatures of the low-gravity Forest, Maru's limbs are incredibly thin for their great length.  It does not even seem plausible that they would support the creature, and yet they do.  Maru has four arms, each a hundred feet long, and an oval-shaped head devoid of any features whatsoever.  Its skin is as black as pitch and as hard as stone, but those who claim to have touched it maintain that it is strangely warm.  Maru's most distinct feature is its broad chest, which looks like a bare ribcage (though the ribs cross each other in the middle in a simple lattice pattern).  From within glows a pale green light that, up close, is brighter than the sun itself.  At night, Maru's light can be seen for miles away despite all the intervening trees and other vegetation.

Maru is only seen at night; nobody as ever glimpsed it during the day (at least, nobody credible; some will say almost anything).  It is unknown whether it hides, or burrows beneath the ground, or simply winks out of existence.  Every night it returns to walk the Skyshield with its long, graceful stride.  Maru is ever silent, and shows no recognition of other creatures (though it avoids stepping on them).  Though many greater Aras Tay are said to make plants thrive and bloom where they pass, Maru is one for whom this is known to be true.  The places it has walked become dense thickets of brightly blooming growth overnight.

Maru has several cults devoted to its worship, but is best known in mystic circles for a prophecy made by a Gheen Fruit-eater shortly before the Recentering.  The diviner said he had foreseen that one day, Maru would come to the walls of the City of Orpiment, and the city's captive forest would explode in riotous growth, break free of its confining walls, and throw the city into ruin.  This prophecy is not taken seriously by many, since Maru has not so much as left the Skyshield in hundreds of years.

Maru, like most greater Aras Tay, was present during the battle against the Peril's Dominion Tree.  One Umbril who observed it later claimed that a great storm of green fire leapt from between its ribs and burned ten thousand abominations to cinders instantly without so much as singing a single Forest leaf.  Like the legend of the City of Orpiment's destruction, this unlikely-sounding tale is not widely believed, though it is probable that it - like most greater Aras Tay - destroyed many of the Peril's servants during the battle.

Elou
'The Everborn,' 'The Harmony of Rainbows'

Some say there is no more beautiful sight in the entire Forest than the wings of Elou.  Avan-Avan, the famous Umbril poet, is said to have written a great masterpiece upon seeing it and then burned it upon completion, lamenting that no mere words could do the greater Aras Tay justice.  There are some who travel thousands of miles to try and glimpse its seasonal transformations, and few regret doing so once they have seen its majestic flight.

Elou usually appears as an enormous caterpillar, light green and streaked with vivid yellows and reds.  It creeps along the Forest floor eating the detritus gathered there.  Unlike most greater Aras Tay, who never change in size even if they do consume matter, Elou grows as it eats until it is hundreds of feet long.  Once it has reached its maximum size, it slows and its skin begins to harden until it is glossy and immobile.  At the dawn of the next day, its hardened carapace splits open, and Elou emerges as a magnificent flying creature.  To call it a 'butterfly' is insufficient '" Elou has twenty-two translucent wings, each dwarfing the largest khauta, and each is like a stained-glass window whose colored panes are constantly changing color and even shape.  Like an immense prism with a million facets, Elou casts the light of the sun upon the Forest canopy in a whirling kaleidoscope miles in diameter.  Having taken flight, Elou revels in the open skies, but this stage does not last long.  It flies for only three days, lays a single egg, and then dies, the colors swiftly fading from its wings.

In about a week, the pearl-colored egg (which itself is 50 feet wide) hatches, reveling Elou the caterpillar, who devours what remains of its previous body and again begins the process of growth towards its unending goal.  All in all, the process from birth to death takes about a single season.  Some say the Rainbow Calendar itself was originally based on Elou's lifespan; this makes some degree of sense, but it may have just as well been devised mathematically in the distant past.

Elou is recognized as a divinity by many throughout the Forest, as it is nearly as widely traveled as Emnol.  Usually, it is revered as the embodiment of the cycle of life and death or as a deity of growth and renewal (or both), as one might expect.  Some believe that if you feed Elou, your dearest wish will be granted the next time it undergoes its metamorphosis.

These are amazing (particularly the Greater Aras Tay).

Some of them remind me of stuff from Princess Mononoke... that kind of weird, whimsical, organic feel.

Can any of them communicate in any intelligible way, or are they too elemental and aloof for that kind of thing?

Quote from: SteerpikeCan any of them communicate in any intelligible way, or are they too elemental and aloof for that kind of thing?

The only one who seems to have any desire or ability to regularly communicate is Poruai, and it's debatable whether its little shape-changing routine can be considered "intelligible."  Some say they've gotten answers from it, others say it was useless or simply made no sense.

In general, the greater Aras Tay are too distant from "mortal reality" to communicate.  If indeed the Aras Tay are a part of the Forest as many suspect, they probably perceive the civilized races as a dog perceives fleas.  A dog scratches when its fleas get too bothersome, but does it actually perceive the fleas as creatures?  Probably not; they only register in the dog's mind in terms of the harm they occasionally cause.  Additionally, we are metaphysical ants to them as well, our lives being just a small part of a cyclic system that they perceive as a whole.

That said, however, there are plenty of stories about people communicating with the greater Aras Tay, even talking with them.  One cannot always distinguish real history from myths and tall tales.  Perhaps some of these stories do have a grain of truth in them, and there are conditions under which the greater Aras Tay will take a genuine interest in a lesser creature and attempt to communicate, aid, or hinder it, but that is a judgment I'm not going to make.  In general I would say that meaningful communication with these behemoths should be at most very, very rare - though it should be remembered that if you take their cults seriously, there are many priests and prophets that claim to know the will of various greater Aras Tay.  Perhaps some are even telling the truth.

So I assume they're nigh unkillable, then?

Well, Vao's death most assuredly happened.  They can be killed, but it would be a herculean task, perhaps even a supernatural one - after all, Vao was killed by the fiery breath of an elder wyrm.  It's possible that even that wouldn't have killed it if Vao had attempted to extinguish itself instead of incinerating the Dominion Tree with its body.

If this was a D&D setting, the feat might be possible for epic level characters; I would probably give them some kind of epic stats if a campaign ever got that far.  It isn't, however, and the kind of system I have in mind for TCJ is significantly lower in power than D&D and more "realistic" in regards to an adventurer's limits.  For the PCs, "nigh unkillable" is probably the most accurate description of their status.

By the way, I've mentioned the Recentering a lot recently.  I won't repost it here, but the link above is to the wiki article on that subject, which gives you a general idea of the pivotal event of TCJ's history.

In a sense, this setting is a "post-apocalyptic" one, save that in this universe the apocalypse was narrowly averted (or at least mitigated) by the destruction of the Dominion Tree.  Though the civilized races still suffered greatly and had their world turned upside-down, it was not nearly as bad as it could have been.  The story of The Clockwork Jungle is really the ongoing quest by the four races to re-define their culture and identity in the wake of their complete betrayal by their peoples' greatest leaders and brightest minds.  A traumatic event - but ultimately not a crippling blow.

Somewhere out there in the imaginary aether is an "alternate" TCJ, in which the Dominion Tree was never destroyed and what remains of the main races are few and scattered, living in fear of being discovered by abominations and the corrupted diviners that still loyally serve the Peril.  For various reasons, however, that isn't what I want - and in any case, such a dystopia is something better suited to those more adept at the genre than myself.*

*I know there are more of you out there, I just haven't read much recently, please don't be mad

A timeline in progress, with wiki links!  Just in case these various events are a little too confusing.  Years are reckoned in EVP, "Enti-Ven's Peace," starting in the year Enti-Ven Famar disappeared, ending the years of the First Horde.

[ic=Timeline]c. -400: The Mainspring Analects are written.

c. -280: The Oracle Tree is discovered by a rogue Iskite.  The Age of the Prophets begins.

-163: The Forest Walls of the City of Orpiment are completed.

c. -80: The printing press is developed in the Scalemount.

c. -50: Smiths in the City of Orpiment develop 'orpiment copper,' an arsenical bronze that becomes an increasingly common substitute for iron.

-15: The Recentering begins; the Age of Prophets ends.  The Dominion Tree flowers, enslaving the Fruit-eaters and beginning the Diviners' Wrath, but is destroyed by the greater Aras Tay Vao.  The Saffron Moss is crushed, but the civilizations of the Forest have already plunged into anarchy.  Two Umbril, Enti-Ven Famar and Thals-Tadun Nata, kill the Ivet (prince) of their colony and begin a Forest-wide crusade against the diviners and their allies that becomes known as the Orange Strife.  Their host, known as the First Horde, kills many scholars, priests, scribes, philosophers, and other intellectuals as well.

-2: Enti-Ven Famar kills Thals-Tadun Nata for betraying their cause, and in a rage destroys the Umbril settlements of the Netai Coast.  Survivors flee to the isles.  A period of violent anarchy consumes the Netai, known as the Vagrants' War.

0: Enti-Ven Famar vanishes in the Chokereed, marking the decisive end of the First Horde.  Roving bands of bandits and zealots continue to terrorize the civilizations of the Forest; these bands are known collectively as the Second Horde.

8: The Vagrants' War ends with the majority of the Netai isles divided between two Umbril states, the Yellow and Blue Principalities.  These two powers alternate inconclusively between war and peace for nearly 80 years, in what is known as the 'Years of Two Crowns.'
 
c. 40: The Second Horde winds down around this time.  The Recentering ends.

87: Vatav-Nel Oran, Prince of the Blue, conquers the Yellow Principality and founds the Oranid Dynasty (also known as the Green Principality) that will rule the Sea of Netai for nearly a century.

120: Yik Buri Khaut, a Gheen weaver, invents the hot air balloon, which is subsequently dubbed the "khauta."

126: Yik Buri Khaut becomes the first flyer to be eaten by a canopy wyrm.

171: The Scourge Crisis begins.  A fungal plague known as the Scourge devastates the non-Umbril populations of the Green Principality.  The Prince is blamed and popular Umbril sentiment shifts away from the government, eventually leading to open rebellion.

173: Auk Yrta Su'u, later known as the World-Queen, is born in Sarmyk.

184: Varan-Etun Oran, Prince of the Green, flees its palace of Tiran Oran.  The Treaty of Var Aban is signed, ending the rule of the Oranid Dynasty and founding the Netai Confederation.

186: Varan-Etun Oran attempts to reclaim its throne with the aid of Umbril loyalists and alien mercenaries, beginning the Netai Wars.

189: The Battle of Cannibal's Crown ends the First Netai War.  The pro-Oranid coalition is decisively defeated.  A group of Iskite villages forms the Right Orientation Alliance to check Confederation power and reclaim formerly Iskite land.  In White Lotus, an Ussik blacksmith invents the Aeolipile.

191: The Battle of Falling Stars, part of the Second Netai War, marks the first time khautas are used decisively in combat.  The Netai Smokefleet is officially founded later this year.  Auk Yrta Su'u becomes Queen of Sarmyk.

202: In response to raids by the Yrtan Empire into the Wash, the settlements of Anevai, S'aszkeh, and Keshs' found a defensive alliance known as the League of the Waterfall.

204: The Netai city of Meja falls to Oranid forces during the Fourth Netai War.  The Green Principality is re-founded there, albeit with only a small fraction of its original territory.

207: Auk Yrta Su'u completes her conquest of Feathervale and crowns herself 'World-Queen.'

210: Under the command of League Marshal Jetzeng Tzejas, the League of the Waterfall achieves its first major victory over the forces of the World-Queen at Nerth Sink.  Jetzeng is mortally wounded in the battle.

213: The Fifth Netai War ends.  As a consequence, the Right Orientation Alliance is dissolved, leaving the Netai Confederation without any united opposition in the region.

214: The present date.[/ic]

[ic=Excerpt, 'The Black Clay']Among foreigner, friend, or alien you will find no master of mine,
and never have I beholden myself to our Prince.
It created me, that I freely admit, but that was not my wish,
nor did I consent to return my body to the soil, nor my breath to its web.
Would you reclaim a gift freely given, abandoning your reputation?
Is the merchant who gives away all its goods entitled to their return?
That man is a fool, and our Prince doubly so,
for it was foolish enough to grant me life
and must now accept the consequences.

- Chapter 8, The Ivet's speech to Neven-Il Tebral[/ic]

Many cultures mummify their dead.  The Umbril mummify their living.

Normally, an Umbril that reaches the twilight of its life begins to decay while still alive.  Its outer layer (analogous to an animal's skin) acquires a wet sheen and eventually begins to slough off.  This is not painful to the Umbril, but is rather uncomfortable to watch '" and messy.  The Umbril begins to drift in and out of consciousness, and slows physically until it inevitably loses its mobility and returns to the sessile state it once had as a Sporeling.  The Umbril descends glacially into insensibility as its body returns to the soil.

The Umbril are renowned for their expertise in herbalism and medicine.  It was perhaps inevitable that a people so equipped would attempt to stay their final fates and continue the machinations and conspiracies they are known for as long as artifice can sustain them.

To put it simply, the subject is embalmed while still alive.  The skin is anointed with a mixture of plant oils and herb extracts.  Then, bloodletting begins, and the blood is replaced gradually with an infusion of an embalming fluid, the makeup of which is a jealously guarded secret.  While this goes on, prayers and sacrifices to Thalevin (the Umbril deity of healing, renewal, and fertility) are made continually; this is one of the few aspects of Umbril life in which Thalevin is acknowledged and petitioned.  As one might expect, having its blood replaced with embalming fluid kills the subject.

As the Umbril approaches the moment of death, however, it draws in the veth, the Umbril name for the universal 'breath of life' that flows through all living things.  The manipulation of the Breath is what has been called channeling.  The veth itself is life; no living thing survives without it.  Conversely, things not normally alive can be made to live with it, Cogs being the primary example '" they have no means to breathe and have no life of their own, but can catch the merest current of the veth and spring to life.  It is this force that the subject must struggle to hang on to in the moment of death.  If it fails, the Umbril dies immediately; if it is successful, it brushes off the grasp of the Eternal Mycelium and becomes a telavai, a living mummy.

Mastery of the veth is rather like a martial art.  All beings have access to it in theory, but it takes years of dedication, focus, and training of the mind and body to reach the point where surviving the procedure is even possible.  One cannot simply decide to become a telavai; it is a high and rugged path that few are capable of traversing.  Even revered masters have died on the altar when their focus slipped slightly at the wrong instant.  Because the procedure must be done before serious decay begins, an Umbril that wishes to become a telavai risks years of its remaining lifespan if the transformation fails.
[note=Undeath]This setting lacks 'traditional' undead '" one might argue it has no undead at all.  Abominations are just dead, animated by a living organism growing in them (the Peril).  One could call Telavai undead, but one wonders if that would make Cogs undead as well, since they have a similar status as beings of dead/inorganic matter brought to life by the veth.  The term 'undead' does not exist among the races of the Clockwork Jungle, who tend to perceive everything that partakes in the universal Breath as 'alive,' even Cogs and telavai, though they may be a different kind of life.  There is no alternative force (like 'negative energy') that creates life or any facsimile of it.[/note]
Those telavai who have chosen to discuss their transformation have said it is excruciatingly painful, but the crossover into false life is not the end of the process.  The new telavai must be monitored carefully and treated with desiccants and herbs to prevent rotting.  Eventually, these treatments are stopped, but regular infusions of the embalming mixture must be administered to preserve the body.

A telavai appears as a pale, half-shriveled version of its former self.  It is weaker physically, and its now-brittle body makes nimble movement difficult.  A telavai's existence cannot truly be ended, however, unless its body is destroyed; it may 'bleed' fluid, but the fluid serves only to prevent decay and does not itself sustain life.  A telavai is incapable of making spores, so it can no longer reproduce.  It ceases to need food or water, nor can it ingest these things.  The 'voice' made by its desiccated gills becomes crackling and dry, barely louder than a whisper.  Its mental acuity is undiminished, and most importantly it is no longer subject to a natural death in the foreseeable future.  Theoretically, a telavai's body will eventually decay '" even the secret fluid cannot preserve dead tissue forever '" but there are no confirmed reports of a telavai dying in this way.  Most are assassinated long before then, and the longest-lived ones in recent record have gone up to two hundred years with no more than fairly light degradation.

The dried and chemical-filled body of a telavai is particularly susceptible to fire, and in practice this is the most common method of assassinating one.

The combined difficulty of attaining the necessary mastery of the veth and penetrating the intense secrecy of the preserving formula (one must steal it or bargain it away from another telavai, and they do not part with it lightly) means that very few Umbril undertake this procedure.  It is reserved for the elites of Umbril society: those with the status, resources, drive, and wits to make the ritual a reality.

Telavai were more common during the Age of Prophets.  This is partially because at the dawn of the Recentering, nearly all telavai were also diviners; when they all went mad simultaneously, there was no way for them to pass on the secrets of their transformation.  The fact that some Umbril have undergone the transformation since then, however, indicates that at least a few non-diviner telavai must have survived the Recentering '" or perhaps their secrets fell into the hands of non-telavai in the chaos of that time.

The process is not given the same censure that lichdom (or other voluntary conversion to undeath) is in other fantasy worlds.  The process is inarguably unnatural, but it is not seen as 'evil' or 'unholy' (as indicated by the prayers to Thalevin, who is hardly an evil deity).  To the other races of the Forest, who lack any such means to achieve immortality (at least, any widely-known means), it is often viewed with disgust, horror, unease, or any combination of the above, but the Umbril pay no mind to the squeamishness of aliens.  Telavai have been part of Umbril life since before the Age of Prophets itself, and will continue to be a part of it as long as the ritual and its secrets are remembered.

The Tellavi are fairly amazing.

I really like that the telavi are not Evil with a capital E, or treated as monstrous by all who encounter them.  Its always struck me that if the technology/magic existed to transcend mortality then it would used openly rather than covertly, and fear of the undead simply for being undead (or "undead" in your case) is rather superstitious.  Perhaps lichdom/mummification would be controversial, but liches/mummies would form a part of society.  This has always struck me about various vampire stories, where the vampires lead a secret life - I feel that if vampires were really around then there would be an infrastructure to support them.  Most people eat meat, after all, and subsisting on blood isn't really all that big a deal when you think about it...

Does the veth flowing through a telavi give them any unusual powers??  You mention their susceptability to fire - are they otherwise just as vulnerable to attack as regular Umbril?

Quote from: SteerpikeDoes the veth flowing through a telavi give them any unusual powers??  You mention their susceptability to fire - are they otherwise just as vulnerable to attack as regular Umbril?

Veth[/i] - that's just the Umbril name for it, by the way - is the all-important force of life in this setting; it's comparable to chi, prana, pneuma, and other Earth conceptions of a life-force (all of those basically translate to "air" or "breath").  In the Clockwork Jungle, "magic" is just a way of describing supernatural things that beings can do when they master this force.  Any Umbril who has enough mastery of the universal breath to become a telavai is already a pretty impressive wielder of what we would describe as magic.

Non-Umbril have access to this same force and can achieve somewhat similar feats - true masters of the veth have been occasionally known to go for weeks without food or sleep simply by mental focus and breathing exercises - but the telavai process does not work for them.  It's a little bit like keeping a flower alive in a vase of water after you've cut it: as long as you can continually breathe in the veth (in this clumsy analogy, "water") you can sustain a semblance of life even without organs that would otherwise be critical to body function.  Either non-Umbril don't have bodies that function this way, or they simply have not yet devised a process that would work for their own bodies as the Umbril process does for theirs.  One could argue that the only reasons there aren't Iskite/Gheen/Tahr telavai is because none of these races have the experience with herbalism, toxicology, medicine, and biology that the Umbril do (and also because of their cultural aversion to the idea).  As that Umbril knowledge is beginning to spread with the new advances of printing and flight, however, this may change.

The World-Queen in particular is known to be desperately trying to find a way to grant herself immortality in a similar manner, and has gone to great lengths trying to abduct telavai and force them to divulge their secrets.  She has maimed and killed numerous other Gheen in telavai-inspired experiments, as obviously she would never undergo such a process unless she was sure it would work.  If any non-Umbril discovers an analogous process in the near future, it will probably be her.

That would be an undesirable event for the peoples that resist her dominion - and a potential adventure/campaign hook for PCs who are on good terms with her enemies.

As for vulnerabilities, telavai are fairly fragile, but with the caveat that they can't actually be killed by things like blood loss, shock, and so on.  They're not hard to overpower in a physical sense, but you can't just kill one with a well-placed crossbow bolt or spear thrust.  They have to be meaningfully destroyed, which usually means burning or cutting apart their body.  Since a telavai's bodyguards (any sensible telavai has bodyguards) are unlikely to let you chop their master up, fire is really the only feasible method of assassination if you don't plan on taking on its entire retinue.  Poison, the favorite tool of Umbril assassins, will do nothing to a telavai because they no longer have a functioning metabolism (or rather, the metabolism they do have is driven solely by mental/spiritual will rather than physical circulation).

[ic=At the End of the World]Behold the House of the Gods,
see their columns rising Starwise.
Who are you, stranger?
What have you wrought?
- Archaic Iskite inscription above the gate of the Wayward Tower[/ic]


In the Clockwork Jungle, most natural philosophers and other educated individuals agree that the world is round.  Still, even they admit the world has an edge '" you just can't see it.

Civilization is tied together by the attraction of lodestones.  Without them, long-distance trade and communication through the trackless Forest would be impossible.  Even these faithful children of the Grandmother Mountain, however, have their limits.  It takes a certain size and quality of lodestone to exhibit the pseudomagnetic property that makes lodestone useful.  As one travels away from the Grandmother Mountain, this attractive force wanes, and one must carry larger and/or purer lodestones to cross this threshold of utility.  'The edge' is a conceptual line at which the size and purity requirements are so large that finding such a lodestone '" let alone carrying it (as lodestones are heavier than lead) '" becomes impractical.  The attractive force does not decline uniformly, but exponentially, so weight and purity demands increase sharply as one approaches this edge.
[note=Starwise]The Clockwork Jungle does indeed have 'absolute' direction '" in other words, there is a north and a south.  These directions are known to the denizens of the jungle, who call them 'starwise' and 'earthwise.'  They are rarely used, however, for reasons mentioned '" clear visibility of the sky is needed, and it is seldom easily available or safe to access.  In addition, there are no bright stars in the vicinity of the celestial pole like our own Polaris, so it is more difficult to get an exact bearing without instruments.  Starwise is rarely shown on maps, but the map I've made is oriented such that Starwise is straight up.[/note]
Past this limit, one can only rely on celestial navigation.  This is unreliable, however, as it depends on having clear skies (something uncommon in the jungle) and a direct view of the sky, for which one must either climb up to the canopy or fly over it.  It is impractical to climb a 500 foot tree every time one wishes to get a bearing, and dendronauts face their own problems: flying is always dangerous, and khauta fuel '" distilled alcohol, charcoal, or peat '" is not easily found in the uncivilized wilds beyond the edge of the world.  There is seemingly nothing to be gained out beyond the edge, and there are plenty of unexplored regions and ruins inside the domain of the Grandmother Mountain that are more enticing to would-be explorers.

There is, however, one location of interest outside the Grandmother's influence.  It is known as the Colonnade of the Stars.

If you were to depart from the Rookery (a Gheen city on the Black Circle) and journey through the high forest of the Skyshield, you would eventually find your way to the valley of the Chokereed, the largest known river in the world.  The Chokereed is the most dangerous place in the Forest outside the Mosswaste itself, with thick, bramble-laden swamps infested by ferocious predators and the merciless Black Blood, a group of Tahro who do not welcome outsiders.  Keep traveling outwards from this accursed place and you will come to the banks of the Sea of Serpents, an inland sea that straddles the edge of the known world.  Cross this sea to the opposite bank, far past the useful limit of lodestones, and you will see a great half-submerged ruin.  Ancient galleries descend into the dark water, flanked by rows of weathered stone Cog statues that silently watch over the water that has risen to their necks.  The Wayward Tower rises from the broken remains, a ruin of the ancients that was renovated by an obscure Iskite cult long ago.  The cult is long gone.  Climb the tower and look outwards, deep into the wilds.  If the weather is clear, you will see a mountain range on the horizon '" a mountain range that looks surprisingly large even at that great distance.  This is the Colonnade of the Stars, and it is immense.

The snow-capped peaks of the Colonnade are believed to rise far above even the greatest heights of the Wyrmcrown.  They are taller than the Grandmother Mountain itself.  The range stretches a great distance, fading away over the horizon on either edge.  Some believe it is the true edge of the world, and beyond them is an endless void.  Others say that it is the domain of gods or the spirits of the heavens, and that another universe entirely lies beyond it.  Some dismiss these notions, but even they must admit that the Colonnade is a wall, a wall that not even the Forest itself can pass '" and that there must be something beyond it.

Multiple expeditions have attempted to reach the Colonnade, and with the invention of the khauta the number of hopeful voyagers has only grown.  Most turn back long before even reaching the Sea of Serpents; the way is not easy.  Those that do set forth from the ruins of the Wayward Tower inevitably arrive at one of two fates: running low on fuel or courage, they decide to turn back '" or they are never heard from again.  Some say that powerful forces prevent mere mortals from making the journey, but it is more likely that these explorers were wrecked, eaten, or simply lost.  One party did return after being presumed dead for several months, but they had never reached the mountains and were lost in the Forest all that time, saved only by blind luck.  Even if a group managed to make it to the mountains themselves, crossing them would be a task more daunting than any yet faced by the most intrepid mountaineers of the jungle.

A tantalizing clue comes from a most unlikely source '" the Golhai.  Some who have trespassed into their 'Worlds of Darkness' and lived to tell the tale have asked them about the Chokereed, which is believed to originate from the Colonnade and flows all the way to the Chalklands, where many Golhai lurk.  They project their thoughts at those they wish to 'speak' with, and in their thought-language they refer to the Chokereed as 'the path home.'  They are unable or unwilling to elaborate; the Golhai are not interested in discussing their culture or history with others, and have a very vague understanding of the geography of the 'World of Light.'  They do not seem to be familiar with the Colonnade, and their typical response to a 'lightling' that annoys them with incessant questions is to eat the offender.  Still, the Golhai are known to occasionally move between cave systems by surface rivers, and some have proposed that in the distant past they migrated down the Chokereed into their present domains.  If the Colonnade truly is the river's source, perhaps it is the same 'home' they obliquely reference.  Perhaps a branch of their race lives there still, or perhaps they had reason to abandon it '" or flee from it.  One shudders to think what kind of creature could possibly frighten the Golhai.