Requiem of the Four Realms

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Tomorrow's Session
BE ON TIME I have a lot of cool stuff planned and I don't want to cut off in the middle!

I finally got off my ass and bought all the ingredients for korma curry. Korma is a sweeter rather than hot Indian Curry. It will contain chicken, carrots, potatoes, and peas. I plan to serve it over white rice. We will also have naan as a side.

It would be SUPER HELPFUL if folks could help us by bringing the following things for game:

1. Chinet bowl/plate things, the deep ones. I’m going to have a dishwasher full just from cooking/prep, I’d love to not need to be doing dinner-dishes at 9pm in the middle of game.

2. Soda or other non-water beverage.
Please post a chime-in if you’re cool to provide either or both, and I will feed you curry. You’ll get curry no matter what, of course. But those who contribute gain TWO hero points!


Tomorrow’s game is not going to happen, as Bryan is possibly off in the mountains, Steph may be post-performance crashed, and I’d like the opportunity to leave my beach trip at our leisure.

Important session! Please try to be there and *on time* if possible!

Game tomorrow will be very special and very important, I hope to see as many of you as possible!

Game Tonight
6:30 as usual!
On Grass Goblins
An academic treatise

Penned by Urnst Ehrlich, 813 PI

The Grass Goblin is one of a thousand thousand curiosities wandering the misty forests and swamps of the Autumnlands. Their unusual plant/animal hybrid nature, combined with their tendencies toward pacifism, drove me to spend a season with these unusual greenskins. What follows are my observations only, stiffened by occasional input from the goblins themselves, but sadly lacking any historical evidence, as it appears I am the first academic to study them in this manner.

1. Ecology

The Grass Goblin is an unusual hybrid of mammal and plant. It stands about the same height as a standard goblin, 3-4 feet tall. (Unfortunately no standard goblins were available for a size comparison.) Their clearly distinguishing feature is the soft “mane” of grass growing along all their ventral surfaces. The grass at the tops of their feet and that running down their arms is a short, soft grass such as one might find on a forest floor. Their heads are adorned with a thicker, longer variety, that can be styled in numerous ways.

This grass covering remarkably allows these highly active creatures to survive entirely by photosynthesis! Plentiful sunlight renders them hale, hearty, and a vibrant green color. Lack of sun slowly melts their color into the sallow yellows and browns of a wilting plant. After several days without sunlight, a test subject slowed noticeably in (already limited) wit and strength, growing listless and distracted. After two weeks, the test subject’s grasses had all but wilted away and it fell into a sort of micro-hibernatory coma, presumably hoarding nutrients for basic survival. After a month, the subject died. After some experimenting, I did discover that a steady, voluminous diet of sugar water more than quadrupled the grass goblin’s ability to survive without sun. However, the creature’s morale and wit remained low, clearly some sort of instinctive nutrient-hoarding behavior.

The other distinguishing trait of the Grass Goblin is its ability to sprout rootlets from its hands and feet. While it appears on first observation that the hands and feet undergo a magical transformation, closer observation shows that these rootlets exist beneath the skin, and are capable of extending and retracting like a cat’s claws. The goblin’s dexterity and ability to grip tools (and by extension weapons) is much greater with its normal hands. With rootlets extended however, it gains incredible flexibility and dexterity, as well as the ability to take a nigh-unmovable rooted position in the soil. Many Grass Goblins are capable of climbing otherwise impassable surfaces, picking locks, and performing other unusual tasks with these rootlets.

Woodsinging is an ability that manifests in approximately three percent of Grass Goblins. It is difficult to tell if this is nascent magic native to the Goblin, or if it is granted by some kindly deity. Grass Goblin Woodsingers have the ability to shape wood into virtually any form they desire. All weapons, tools, and structures used by the Grass Goblins have been shaped in this manner. I saw blades sharp as razors sun from sturdy roots. They showed me a shield compress from a solid foot-thick cylinder into a light, agile bucker which would stop a heavy crossbow bolt from three strides away, without taking a dent.

1. Origins and Uses

It is eminently clear that this unusual little race is another abandoned child of the Imperium of Astin Vey. As of this writing, I am only aware of one modestly sized tribe, located in the foothills of Brechenwold. I believe, based on my research, that the Grass Goblins were created for the following purposes:

1. Self-sustaining – Thanks to their photosynthetic nature, Grass Goblins are able to travel with no food for as long as needed, making them ideal scouts and light infantry.
2. Camouflage – The Grass Goblin can easily blend in with any “green” (grassy, wooded, swamp, etc) environment with near-invisibility.
3. Infiltration – The rootlets can be used to pick locks, to get a hold in otherwise impassable stone and climb a wall, to grapple and silence an enemy guard, etc.
4. Saboteurs – The Woodsinging ability can be used to warp gates, doors and chests and open them. It can also be used to create weapons specific to the mission.
5. Crafters – Woodsingers could be deployed with a combat unit and used to create/enhance arms and armor for the unit. In peace time they can make incredibly detailed crafts to be sold by their masters. (Left to their own devices, Grass Goblins are quite generous and willing to hand out their work for free to trusted individuals.)

3. The Failure of the Grass Goblin

Somewhere along the process of breeding/evolving/mutating, by giving the Grass Goblin its plant features, the Magelord who created it accidentally eliminated its violent drives and instincts. Goblins are seldom especially evil, they are craven and fight only to fulfill their appetites or out of fear of a greater threat. The Grass Goblins lost this natural voracity, and were overly content to stay close to the village and live simple lives tending their apiaries and crafting their wooden masterpieces. While I, as a scholar, and I daresay you dear reader, can appreciate the simple beauty and elegance of this subspecies, I fear the Magelords did not share our affection. It appears that the last Grass Goblins on Zuura are those in the medium-size village in the Mountains of Woe in the Duchy of Brechenwold.


Tomorrow night we will be down a Jason and possibly a Steph. Koth will be sockpuppeted by myself. Sansarra may be as well, we shall see. Game at 6:30 as usual!

The Fall of Angra Sayahad
As uncovered by Sansarra's research

“You gave her WHAT??” Lady Jakarra’s voice rang off the walls the way light glitters off the diamonds after which she took her Nom de Nobilite, “Diamond of Spite.” Streamers of magic coalesced around her feet, swirling cloudlets of bright, sickly green pawing at her ankles and shins.

“You have not gone to your precious “Tea Palace” in over two hundred years! It was a simple lover’s token, nothing more.” Angra Sayahad’s voice was slick, oily, conciliatory. A few of the chains coiled about his body tightened and loosened with a quiet jingle, and a very slow snake of chain made its way out of sleeve and began coiling in his palm.

Lady Jakarra let out a wordless shriek and flung one arm forward, sending an eye-searing blast just inches from Angra Sayahad’s head, striking a priceless statue of him. The platinum and gem-encrusted likeness, three times the height of a man, vanished instantly into a puff of glittering dust that hung in the air.

“Now now, pet, there is no call for disintegrations here! You and are both quite aware of the terms of our… marriage arrangement. The Thaumocracy is happy enough to have us wed and off the market. And we both engage in our little dalliances, and everyone is hap-“ His last statement was cut off as the smoke around Jakarra’s ankles coalesced into a half dozen sickly green snowballs, which pelted his face one after another, the mere impact hard enough to shatter his jaw and snap his head back. The acid snow eating into the flesh of his face and eyes was a mere afterthought.

“Don’t you ‘pet’ me Sayahad, oh Prince of Chains. That palace was NOT YOURS TO GIVE!!” She snapped an angry finger and every stained glass window in the solar in which they fought was shattered. The fragments hung in the air, oriented themselves toward her like compass needles, and swooped in to orbit her left hand, menacing with sparklingly sharp edges.

Angra, meanwhile, had finished dispelling her last attack and growing back the face, bones and eyes of his favorite humanoid form. “Acid in the face, really? So we’re going to be like that, tonight, I see…” He took hold of one of the chains run along piercings in his left forearm and tugged it sharply, and a black armored giant three times the size of the bickering Mage Lords burst in through the solar’s roof, holding its helm-head under one arm and a twelve foot long squared off greatsword in the other.

“Oh, very nice Angra, call your little pet to comfort you… what was its name… Durahan? Hah. Let your steel puppy make you feel better. Trust me when I say you will need it. You see, my love (the phrase was nearly as acid as her snowballs), I’ve brought a guest along. Oh Mab darling, won’t you please come in?”

At that summons, a chill wind roared around the room, whistling through the now empty window frames like valves on a flute. There was a sudden anti-flash of darkness in the room, and when it cleared, Queen Mab, Queen of Air and Darkness, Queen of the Unseelie Court of Faery stood among them, shedding snowflakes from her clingly black dress.
Angra was surprised by this gambit on his wife’s part, and worse, unprepared for it. What would Mab be doing with Jakarra anyway?

After making a brief nod of acknowledgement toward Jakarra, Mab sashayed toward Angra, speaking as she went.

“Oh Angra my dear, things were going so well, and you had to go and ruin them. DON’T. I see you inhaling to speak, to lie, to excuse. Don’t bother. If there is one thing you should know about my kind, about ME most of all, it is that dividing line between truth and lies, respect for contracts, loyalty to oaths. And you… you would gift me, who has no need of mortal trappings, a palace that belonged to someone else? That which was not yours to give? You know so little of our people. The debt to Jakarra for her palace, Angra? It falls upon ME to settle, thanks to you.”

Angra gulped and telepathically signaled Durahan to take a cheap shot at Jakarra, to win himself time to think. The hulking suit of armor had barely raised its sword when Mab made a brief gesture in the air and a half dozen Rust Monsters swirled into being in the shadows of the room, immediately moving to circle Durahan and strike out, each attack gouging pounds of steel off the enormous form. Like frenzied jawfish, they rendered the giant into naught more than a pile of rust in which they snuffled and rolled and chewed like puppies.
Angra was distracted from this scenelet as the full ire of Queen Mab beat against his body like a physical wave of heat and pressure, as though some savage machinima country-levelling weapon was constantly exploding in this modest solar.

“Please, Mab darling- You Highness. Please. Let me make amends, I can make this ri-“ He cut off his own sentence to fling out the chain he had gathered in his hand, catching one of Mab’s wrists and tethering it into the stone wall of the solar faster than the eye could follow. As his other hand rose up, rapidly filling with black iron chain that would spell doom and anathema for the Fae Lady in front of him, he realized he has lost sight of Jakarra. The cloud of class shards orbiting her perforated his back with a hundred deep puncture wounds, from heels to the back of his head. The damage was enough to give even a Magelord pause to stop and heal, pause he did not have.

What followed does not bear repeating, save only to say that both aggrieved ladies got their pound of flesh from the Prince of Chains. Hell hath no fury, after all. At the end of their play session, the Ladies parted with regal gentility, exchanging respectful nods over the glistening exposed and snapped ribs of the Prince of Chains on the floor between them. Lady Jakarra left first, summoning her solid diamond unicorn mount as she went.
Mab remained behind, summoning one of her Fae Knights to her side. “Allorel, you will take up this body and bring it to the most noisome, pathetic hole this speaker-of-lies constructed in life. There you will create a prison for him out of space and time, that he may reflect upon his sins.”

She bent down, gently caressing the exposed cheek muscle of Angra’s flayed face, planting a gentle kiss on the lipless, blood-smeared teeth.
“We shall not kill him today, nor for a very long time. He might have his uses yet. Allorel, go, get this mess out of my sight at once.”

Allorel, Fae Knight of Space bowed low to his queen, gathered up the ruins of the Prince of Chains, and took them to be interred in a pocket dimension in a noisome little necromantic laboratory known as “Shallow Grave.”
- Personal Remembrances, Qadath the
- \Keeper of Skulls, Imperial Year 4356

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Yes miniatures, no strict adherence to 1" grid

If anyone doesn’t have a mini yet, I have the little feet to make printed out paper standees as a substitute until you find a figure you like. All my minis are on long term loan to Dan for our Pathfinder game so I don’t really have any to loan out right now. This site is a good place to start, you can also just google “printable paper miniatures” to find more!


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