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(Taken from: A Guide to Traveling Across Tyrra, by Mme Zara, Guildmaster, Ravenholt Astrologers Guild. Original to be found in Ember's Library of Ravenholt)
Garm Baraq This
is a dwarven outpost at the edge of Troll Canyon on the continent of Amys, far
to the south and east. The name means "Emerald Hill" in the language
of the local dwarves, but the only greenery to be found in this stark waste is
in the heart of the mountain itself, where the Barafindr - The Gemseeker Clan
mine the precious stones.
The Barafindr are not hostile to strangers, but their hospitality to
outsiders is severely limited and wayfarers are sent quickly on their way unless
they can provide some needed service.(Healers are particularly welcomed
however.) The reason is that life
in Garm Baraq is a constant conflict between the dwarves and the other humanoids
and occasional humans of Troll Canyon who can nearly always be found pawing
through the mine tailings in search of a stray fragment of gemstone that may
have eluded the vigilant miners.
The clan is on a constant war footing which mobilizes every dwarf down to
even the unbearded who serve as lookouts and as fire watch. Visitors are
expected to assist in this vital activity: refusal is considered a shocking
breach of guest-friendship and expulsion is immediate. (During the seven months
of my visit there were dozens of sorties launched against the clan ,and I was
told that it was a relatively quiet period.)
Travelers to Garm Baraq are cautioned to bring their own provisions.
Luxuries are scarce, and one may the cuisine somewhat unpalatable, especially if
a diet of mushrooms, fungi, snake and mice would be considered inedible.
However, two features make the journey worth making: the spectacle of watching
the Barafindr Earthcall magic,
and awesome sight of those who have never witnessed the casting of Formal Magic,
and of course the opportunity to barter for or purchase fine emeralds at
discount prices. Jhivantane Deep
in the swamps of northern Amys there is a land which is noted here for the
purpose of warning adventurers to enter it at their peril, for it is ruled by
human necromancers who regard anyone entering unasked (and even with an
invitation there is a risk..) as fair prey.
Their capital city of Oglat might best be described as a lair, for it is
a foul and shadowy place, lying low under great mossy trees and creeping vines.
The smell of death is everywhere and there is much activity, but it is the
shuffling of undead feet that one hears in the night, and the daylight is filled
with the guttural cacophony of the Goblin tongue, spoken by the minions of the
Masters.
The whole of the realm is situated on a broad boggy marsh, the delta of
the River Shatt. This might have been a gateway to the heart of the continent if
it were not for the terror which has closed its mouth for a century. Instead,
caravans and ship convoys would far prefer to risk the hazards of an ocean
journey to safer ports, or the delays of the overland route than face the
prospect of the Guardians of Jhivantane.
If the foolhardy, or the desperate, do make an attempt to enter or cross
this realm, they will note the presence
of great towers situated on the few patches of high ground which dot the
marshes. Here gather groups of necromancers
in council, to conduct their grisly experiments and to further their research
into the darker side of earth magic. It is rumored that they have developed
spells, potions, and weapons which would reduce the best efforts of many a
kingdom's mages to inconsequentiality. No one knows, for those brave spirits who
have entered Jhivantane to investigate have never returned.
A few highly experienced adventurers have made quick sorties into the
swamp for certain rare herbs and animals, spell components, useful to all
spellcasters, and many have actually returned. Just one or two of the rarest or
these components can command prices that would
make an adventurer wealthy for life.
If unauthorized travel must be considered, the visitor should be warned
that the entire land is full of snares and spell defenses, mazes, and labyrinths
made of permanent circles which herd the unwary into traps from which there is
no escape: poisoned wells, trained snakes and scorpions, and the ever-present
hordes of goblins and their ilk. These are the perils of the daylight hours,
even the goblins refuse to venture out after dark.
During the night as one waits and watches for the far away dawn, the
damp, foul smelling air is filled with the glowing eyes of night-creatures and
the howls of the swamp's nocturnal denizens, and the screams of the
unlucky. The fortunate victims of Jhivantane's lords bear the silent
mantle of death. |
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Please contact the head of Research, Eric
Augustson, with any comments or corrections.
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