Players looking for information on new campaigns should find their campaign page in the Book of Mondevai
Sceloran
My name is Fahrseeker Sceloran. I’ve come a long way from who I once was. What I once was. I could have lived a modest life, even a life with some prestige, but the Danzamal are fickle. Like the changing lands of Mondevai, we are all subject to their whims.
I was born in Vegemarl, to a mining family. We led a good life in town, and my father talked of nothing else than his proud involvement with the Mining Guild. He had put in his years of labor in the mines and now enjoyed an administrative role, helping to manage mining claims in the area. He always had a way with words, and I saw him resolve bitter disagreements over land with ease. As new mines west of Vegemarl showed the promise of unprecedented wealth, the city became swollen with new residents. Feeling disillusioned by the rapid change within the city and the constant frustration of directing others to riches he would rather pursue himself, my father decided it was time to “reclaim our purpose as Fahrseekers”.
I think mother preferred the safe life within the city. Here there was no risk of cave-in, no worry of where the next meal might come from. Despite her protests, my older brothers would never say no to the promise of adventure. I was still young, and frightened of change. “Come on Scales,” they would say, “where’s your sense of adventure?”
As far as childhood names go, mine was uninspired. Trapper and Quickstep, now those were names worthy of a young dravon. Scales? Not so much. I always hated that nickname. My opinion didn’t matter, as brothers were older and ‘wiser’. After a week of spirited debate between my parents, we ended up in a dusty camp far west of Vegemarl.
In the city, I had always loved walking past the large boulders of shimmering white fahrstone. I could spend hours just watching it, wondering how it protected us and what was within. I had been told that special colored fahrstone lay within each shell of white fahrstone, each with dangerous properties when lit aflame, save for black fahrstone, which was inert and incredibly valuable. Father would always tell me it was in my blood to find fahrstone. Once I started working in the mines, I had to admit he was right. At the camp, we worked in a large group in coordination with some hill dwarves. They would dig tunnels large enough for the dravon to walk through and inspect the walls for the slight sheen of fahrstone or the telltale moisture of an underground river. Having lived in a fahrstone-protected city followed by a camp at the base of some fahrstone-rich mountains, I had never personally seen the undead, but no one was in a hurry to be surprised by a sudden torrent of water filled with them, so we were careful. We guided the dwarves’ tunnels to rich fahrstone pockets and away from danger. I trained for years, walking through the mines and advising the dwarves where to turn their tunnels. I grew out of my childhood name and became a respected guide. I became known by my given name of Sceloran, and at 6 feet 6 inches, I stood as tall as any adult dravon. My gray scales and the reddish spines extending from my head to halfway down my back rarely saw the sun, but my glowing green eyes led the way in the mines, even in the dimmest of light. For a time, everyone was happy, but in Mondevai nothing is stable.
It was an otherwise routine afternoon in the mines. Guided by a dim lantern, the rock walls spoke volumes. The subtle shine of condensation on the walls signaled danger from nearby water, whereas a small glittering of tiny fahrstone could lead to a veritable windfall. On that particular day, I was inspecting a promising spot and used my trusty pickaxe to carve out a small crevice in the rock. There! The telltale shimmer of white fahrstone. I freed the piece, just the right size to fit in my hand, and smiled. Had I not been distracted by the stone’s beauty, I might have avoided what came next. The rock around the crevice suddenly shifted and the passage began to groan and crack. Panicked, I started to run back to the entrance but tripped over a fallen rock, and directly onto my lantern. I heard the shattering of glass and felt the oil on my skin. Then, I knew only agony. As the lantern flames surrounded me, I was vaguely aware of the fahrstone still in my hand as it began to crackle and come alive. As I prepared for the end, I felt my world shift. The flames were suddenly extinguished and replaced by the suffocating pressure of deep water. Water? I tried to struggle, but lost all sense of direction. As my awareness of the world faded, I felt a gentle force begin to lift me.
I awoke slowly. My body ached, and I was flat on my back on a hard, cold surface. I tried to turn my head, but a searing pain prevented it. Taking sharp breaths and glancing around, I saw that I was in a giant cavern at the edge of a large underground lake, with the sound of rushing water echoing around the chamber. Hadn’t the mine collapsed¬¬¬? As my mind began racing, I heard- no, felt- a woman’s voice:
“I don’t know whether to congratulate you or put you out of your misery.”
“Who’s there?”, I croaked.
The voice spoke mockingly “I wouldn’t say I’m there exactly, but you may know me as Sirrien.”
Sirrien? I’d heard whispers of the name around camp, but it was never anything good. She was a herald of the undead. A nameless, faceless evil.
“Look,” the voice continued, “you don’t have long so I’ll get to the point. You burned some blue fahrstone. Not much, but enough to land yourself in the middle of the Shadowfell. You’re mortally wounded, and you need me.”
I couldn’t argue. As I regained my senses, a searing pain spread across my upper body.
“So, I have a proposal for you. I don’t see many people make it to where you are and I think we can help each other. You promise to act as my instrument on Mondevai, and I will imbue you with power the likes of which you have never known. Let me simplify that for you: pledge to serve me, and you live. Refuse, and you’ll die down here.”
I didn’t see what choice I had. I managed to groan “Yes, I will.”
“Oh come on”, the voice teased, “I need more than that. Say it with me: I promise to serve you Sirrien, for as long as I draw breath.”
That didn’t sound like a long time at this point, and the pain was becoming unbearable. Between shallow breaths, I spoke the phrase. “I promise… to serve you… Sirrien… for as long… as I… draw breath.”
The voice grew louder, more excited. “Good! That’s the spirit. Now, when you get up, you’ll see some rather impressive water flows coming from the ceiling and disappearing into the floor on the far side of the room. You might see a few bodies in there, but that’s not your concern. I want you to block those floor tunnels and blast a hole in the ceiling above where you’re lying now. Simple, yes? Now, watch this.”
I had just started to lose consciousness when I felt a new sensation. It was like being in the flames all over again, but empowering instead of withering. I felt it crawl across my skin and lodge deep within me. I watched as the burns across my arms and chest disappeared, replaced by scars. As the pain subsided, my mind cleared and burned stronger than it ever had before. After taking a moment to catch my breath, I stood up. My clothes were mostly burned, but still holding on. I had my pickaxe, but little else.
“Welcome back,” the voice echoed, “now get to work, we had a deal.” For a moment, I was terrified. What had I agreed to? What happened to me? I recalled what had been said of Sirrien, that she worked to spread the plague of undead across the land. Was I undead? No, I was definitely alive, just changed. She was right though, we had a deal, and I was too afraid that she could just as easily take my life as she had restored it.
Looking around the room, I could see what Sirrien meant. There was a large bank of exposed water flows on one end of the room. At least 6 waterfalls, each about 6 feet wide, flowing into a large hole in the floor. But how could I block it? There were large stalactites above the hole, but I couldn’t exactly climb up there. Frustrated, I felt a strange power pulse within me. With skills that I had never practiced, I spoke a series of sounds and moved my hands in an intricate dance, ending with a sudden jab towards the structures above. Recoil shoved me back, as an unseen force shot out of my hands and towards the ceiling. The hanging rock cracked, dislodged itself and tumbled down into the hole. The drain plugged, water quickly began filling the chamber. It worked! I flexed my hands and felt giddy at the power that had leapt through me. Now for the next step. I walked over to where I had awoken and again directed a blast towards the ceiling. Rock again dislodged and shattered against the floor, revealing a dark opening above. As water began to ¬creep up my ankles, I glanced back towards the blocked drain in the floor and saw a few humanoid bodies crash against the rocks. What was this? What had I gotten myself into exactly?
The voice filled my head and crooned, “Excellent, I’m glad to see that someone can keep a promise. I’d rather not let a new tool drown, so I’ll get you out of here. Before I do, humor me. I can answer any question you have. What is it you would most like to know?”
Without hesitation, I responded “What is fahrstone? I mean what is it exactly? How does it work, and what can it do? Is it possible to control it, to create it?”
The voice simply laughed, “You miners are so quick to harvest that which you do not understand. Still, good question. The answer to that is truly worth seeking. Before I go, a word to the wise, those seeking the tallest answers always build the tallest towers. You’ll be hearing from me Scales.”
Before I could retort, the world around me again shifted and melted away. I found myself on a hillside looking down over a massive city. Even from the distance, I could make out the seals of the Empire on banners spilling over the walls. I’d heard descriptions of this place. Vaumark, the capital of the Marran Empire. Scanning the city, I could make out a number of tall spires punctuating the skyline. Clothes still damaged and wet, I began the descent towards the city. I could still feel a burning power inside of me, and the desire to learn about fahrstone burned even greater. The tallest towers, eh?
