The Campaign Builder's Guild

Quote from: Elemental_Elf I was initially hesitant about your Cyclopses, given that the stereotype is for large giants rather than small goblins. I have to say though the "The captives that are dragged underground by the Cyclopses are said to be doomed to strange and unwholesome fates." bit sold me.

Glad to hear that. :)

Quote from: Elemental_Elf I want to hear more about this Thalassian Sphinx and her black milk.

Guess I'll have to come up with something, then. If I can just find the inspiration...

Quote from: Elemental_Elf Are there really a million islands in the sea?

Probably not. No one has charted that sea so well as to make a fair guesstimate of the number of islands - not that there is even a clear idea where exactly the sea ends and begins, seeing as it is a part of a larger body of water. The name is meant to describe "that stretch of sea where you find the islands are as many as the grains of sand in a desert!"

Quote from: Elemental_Elf Do the Myrmidons favor one particular race for slavery or are they more eclectic?

Savage Age is so human-dominated that there isn't much in the way of alternatives. Any non-human slave they got their hands on would be such a novelty that it'd prolly be used as a curiosity/amusement display rather than labour.

Quote from: Elemental_Elf That is just too cool for words!

You earned it:  

Thanks!

Quote from: GhostmanGuess I'll have to come up with something, then. If I can just find the inspiration...

I don't want to push you into doing something that you have no inspiration for. It's just that the Sphinx seems very exotic and truly interesting.

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Pegasi

The Thirteen Pegasi are unique, flying monsters scattered across the region of Euria. They resemble beautiful and fearsome horses with a crest of feathers instead of a mane of hair, and a pair of great black wings attached at the shoulders. Flames flare up where ever their hooves strike, and they breathe thick dark smoke that can conceal bands of warriors. They have the gift of speech and are said to be able to cover 300 Argyrian leagues (about 675 km or 419 miles) in a single day.

[ic=Creation of the Pegasi, according to one myth]One day it happened that Anaxippos, god of Horses, went with his brother Theramenes, god of the Hunt, to hunt the Spirit Stag of Minaria. They chased the King of Deer across the windswept plains, and across the scrubby hills, and across the snow-encrusted mountains, and through the forests and ravines and valleys. For twenty years they pursued relentlessly, never stopping and never drifting from the trail. And for twenty years the King of Deer avoided their spears and their arrows and their snares. And their pack of hounds, seven hundred heads strong, could not gain any ground upon it. And yet they pursued relentlessly.

It happened that their hunting took them into the fabled land of Daliristan, wherein they cornered the King of Deer within a red-sandstone canyon five hundred fathoms deep. And just as they were about to fell their prey, lo! A monstrous eagle larger than a bull-elephant glided over them, clutching in it's claws a great egg. And the shadow of this bird was so large and so deep that when it passed over them, the Suns were blotted out and a darkness like onto a night fell upon them. And this matter so irritated Anaxippos that he lifted a great boulder, twelve fathoms across, and flung it at the eagle. The great bird at once let go of the egg it was carrying, and dashed away to avoid the rock that was thrown at it. And when it's shadow had passed, the brothers saw that the King of Deer had made it's escape in the cover of darkness.

It was then that Theramenes wished to continue the hunt, yet Anaxippos refused. And he held in his hands a great egg, the shell of which was like the finest alabaster. That egg he claimed as his trophy of the hunt, no longer caring for the King of Deer. Theramenes chastized his brother for this, but this only made Anaxippos mad, and he immediately swallowed the egg and returned to his home in the land of Aspidia.

After three years had passed since he returned from the hunt for the Spirit Stag of Minaria, Anaxippos was struck by a terrible headache. And so terrible was his condition that he cried a blood-curdling howl, and this ululation echoed to the edges of the world, and so frightening it was that horses everywhere became wild and feral, and could no longer be harnessed before the chariot. And it is said that this misfortune ended the Age of the Chariot.

His sister Xanthe, goddess of Youth, was determined to help Anaxippos. She went to speak of the matter with their father Aeron, god of the Winds. But Aeron did not know how his son's headache could be cured. And it happened that Theramenes overheard their conversation, having just returned from a hunting trip to present freshly taken lion-skins to his father. And he guessed at once what had caused this sickness.

Seeking his brother, Theramenes found him wandering the plain of horses, nearly maddened by the pain. And there was a great throbbing bump upon his head. Theramenes then took a great bronze axe and swung it. And with the blade of the axe he split open his brother's skull. And lo! Out from that opening sprung a herd of winged horses, and these were the legendary Pegasi, and Theramenes counted thirteen of them, and they all flew away. In this way were the Pegasi born, and Anaxippos cured of his headache.[/ic]
The Pegasi appear in many tales from recorded history and legends alike, but have been rarely sighted in contemporary times. Many of the thirteen have probably been killed over the centuries that have passed since their creation.

Great myth!  It feels and reads exactly like a genuine Greek myth!  Well done!

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Dodecacheires

The Dodecacheires are a race of giants - towering behemoths some 12 to 14 feet tall. Each among them has six heads and twelve arms. They are as cruel and savage as they are imposing, living by a brutal warrior-ethos that spurns any kind of weakness. Practically omnivorous, they can consume just about any kind of flora or fauna, even poisonous things. They crave for human flesh and will happily indulge on it given half a chance.

Most of the race makes it's home on the Gigantes Mountains that border Erytania, but solitary members have been sighted in remote locales beyond vast distances over land and water. How these giants manage to range so far from their dismal peaks unnoticed is not known. Thankfully such encounters are rare indeed though, for even a lone Dodecacheires is a living terror: dreadfully swift and strong, cruel and cunning, one is easily the match of ten battle-hardened warriors.

Because their six heads can keep watch on every direction simultaneously, it is virtually impossible to sneak up on a Dodecacheires. The heads also take turns sleeping at nights, each needing less than a couple of hours of slumber. Common lore also warns that the giants have six lives and will continue to rise from the dead until they have been slain that many times, unless the corpse is destroyed. Cutting off all the heads will also prevent the body from rising again, though the severed heads may very well spring to life anew. Some of the race are also capable of sorcery.

According to legends of old, the Dodecacheires played a part in the fall of the Cyclops realm, preceding the banishment of the one-eyed race into the lightless depths of the underworld. They then migrated to their present homeland on the Gigantes Mountains, where they seem to be content to dwell for the time being. Very little is known about their ways, save that they apparently organize themselves into tribe-like groups that are constantly making war on each other. However, the oldest records by ancient chroniclers sometimes refer to a "King of the Dodecacheires", a particularly large, old and sharp giant who supposedly held a ruthless sway over the entire race.

It is believed especially among Erytanians that the Dodecacheires live in caves, where they beat on great barrel-drums the size of a house. This creates a ghastly din which echoes down the mountain slopes, instills madness in men who hear it, and causes livestock to miscarry. Sometimes this drumming becomes so furious that it may even trigger earthquakes.

Interesting, sounds exactly like an of ancient bit of mythology. Now does each head have a separate personality or are they all the same "person"?

Only one mind, although in conversations the heads may very well act in such a manner that it's like talking to a group. For example, if a Dodecacheires deems you a worthy foe, he might issue a challenge stating his name and deeds before charging at you. One of the heads would proudly announce his name, then another head would follow up with a boastful list of accomplishments, and a third one finishes by demanding to know who you are so that he may add you to the list after the triviality of the fight is over and done with.

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The Thirty-Three Million Paths to Immortality

It's the tattered ancient pirate captain who plagues the seas at the helm of a rotting ghost-ship, forever chasing the sunset, never entering harbour. It's the cloaked figure of the legendary assassin-poet who appears out of the torrent of midnight rain to slay with a single perfect stab a man right in front of you, pausing to recite a romantic verse before vanishing back into the night. It's the millennia-old monk meditating in the temple hidden within the cursed jungle, who speaks in ineffable proverbs and guards some ancient secret you're after. It's the mad sorcerer who dwells in a tower of pearl that rises in the middle of a trackless sea, whose paranoid wrath you must dread as you sneak in to steal some item of power from his chambers. It's the invincible lone sword-master who wanders aimlessly in the desert, challenging with a riddle all who cross his path, and with the blade of his sword all who answer it wrong.

Theirs is a tale with a beginning but without an end, a story without conclusion, a question left unanswered. Like their brothers they are born from flesh, to tread the dusty soil of the many worlds under one sky, but their trails carry on forever, taking them nowhere. They have found one of the Paths, and in finding it they have lost the way to the trail's end.

The IMMORTALS are prodigies of the earthbound races, ones that have transcended the limitations of their petty existence, yet they remain bound in forms of flesh and blood. They are undying, and possessed of inscrutable wisdoms and powers, though not two of them are truly alike. Whether they deliberately sought a Path to Immortality, or stumbled upon it by accident, or were cursed to find it and follow it, there is no turning back from that trail. They must walk on, accepting the course of the road before them. Forever.

Many are the souls to have pondered the Riddle of Death, driven by fear or desire or a burning ambition, and indeed there have been those who have solved the puzzle. But few have managed to follow in their wake - for the Riddle of Death is not one riddle; the Paths to Immortality do not converge in single crossroads. To trace the footsteps of one transcendant is to walk the path of another man, and such a path will rarely take one toward his own destiny. The pieces that solved the puzzle for one might only further conceal the answer from others.

While the transcendant are bound to their Paths, the earthbound may sometimes stand in their way. Such conflicts rarely end well for the latter, though those favoured by fortune may prevail - for although the Immortals are undying, they are nevertheless bound in flesh, and flesh is weak. Their Path cannot truly be blocked, yet a bump in the road may alter the way.

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Overview on Religion in Euria

Across the world of Euria, religion tends to be a muddy affair. Undogmatic and loosely organized, it stems from ancestral tradition more so than from conscious formulation of theology. Religious identity is often inseparable from ethnic identity; the very question of "which faith do you profess" makes no sense to a man to whom faith is not a choise but an integral part of being one of the tribe he was born into.

Various native Eurian mythologies and ritual traditions have much in common, so much so that dividing and labeling them into separate "religions" can become an exercise in futility - yet one could hardly consider them all a singular faith either. Among the chief reasons for this confusion are the prevalency of syncretism and regional differences: any one divinity may go by a bewildering plethora of different names and epithets changing from town to town, and deities from foreign faiths are often identified and re-interpreted as incarnations or aspects of one's familiar deities. It is also not unheard of for elements to be "borrowed" wholesale from other religions and incorporated into one's own corpus of mythology.

Religion is usually not seen as a source of morality. While the myriad tales and fables about divinities and mortal heroes can indeed contain moral themes (or be thusly interpreted), they are never viewed as commands or lessons. The role of divinities is much like that of forces of nature (indeed, many of them personify just such forces) - they are awesome and terrible entities to be feared, appeased and bargained with, rather than models to be emulated.

Eurian religious practices are highly ritualized, concerned with taboos and ceremonies. The intent of a man is usually irrelevant; it is his actions (and their direct and indirect outcomes) which make the difference. For example, treading on holy ground bears the exact same implications and consequences whether one actually knows it to be holy ground or not - sacrilege committed unknowingly or unwillingly is sacrilege all the same. Just like a man who is seized and thrown down from a cliff falls as swiftly and surely as one who leaps down of his own intent.