Tuesday, January 14, 2014

Case Study No. 1173: Bentic

Let's Play Ultima VIII 6 Man, this Dude is Pretentious
In this video we read more books in the library, including something by Okapi the Elder, who finds it necessary to explain what mining is. Then we finally talk to Bentic who has to be one of the most pretentious people ever. He introduces himself with a lecture on the linguistic origins of his name. Seriously, who the hell does that? Then he talks about how he spies on his neighbors and calls it "being a student of life." Pretty much the only useful thing he says is that Mythrim might be able to tell us a way off the world where everyone makes fun of our outfit.
Tags: Ultima (Video Game Series) Ultima VIII: Pagan (Video Game) Let's Play Reallly bad games
Added: 3 months ago
From: AlisonGrossTheWitch
Views: 26

[the player enters the Tenebrae Library and speaks to a male patron sitting alone at a table]
PLAYER: Hello ...
PATRON 1: People are trying to read!
[the player clicks on the book that the patron is holding and begins reading]

The Final Sunlight
by Nolandru the blind idiot of Tenebrae
The final moments of sunlight were glorious moments, ones we would have cherished had we known they were to be our last.
The war against our very kindred seemed never ending, day after day of bloodshed.
In their eyes burned the hatred of intolerance. And these flames kindled the fire of violence. After a while, it became easy to forget the faces of those you had slain ... a sister with one chop, an uncle with another. Yet still they came, outraged that we dared to listen to the voice of warning.
By the time the Destroyer came we were ready. Not for the Destroyer, but for an end to the fighting. Too many had not heeded, so we thought. To many refused to acknowledge the might of the Titans. We were doomed to devastation, but with the doom came the sickening thought of peace and silence. In the end, we wondered, would Pagan and Zealan know one from the other as lifeless corpses filling the pyres, the result of the Destroyer's carnage.
But then came the Titans. First rose Lithos, the Mountain King. Then came Stratos, the Mystic Voice, and her sister Hydros, the Lurker. Finally, the blazing image of Pyros, Lord of Flame, appeared to challenge the Destroyer. On the ground, both Pagan and Zealan alike ceased battle, awed by the presence of these Titanic Elements. The sky became a whirlwind of smoke and dust and hail as the Titans joined forces to and began to rise up.
As the battle was fought above, the very lands upon which we stood we rended piece from piece. Mountains shifted, rose, and spewed fiery death. Wind ripped through buildings and torrents of water cascaded over the walls of the cities. The very enemies who stood against each other, bared fangs and flashing eyes, were unable to face off, blinded by the smoke, tumbled by the quakes, scorched by the searing flames.
There was naught but chaos.
And when the fight ended and the Destroyer vanquished, there was naught but ruin.
The quakes ceased, the wind slowed, the waters calmed, and the smoke cleared. Pagan again saw Pagan. Despite the recent tumult, the moment was one of serenity.
But the sun was no more.
There is no knowledge of where the light of the sky has gone. There is no true night, but there is no true day. And the Titans, demanding ever-increasing sacrifices in payment for their deed, offer no answers.

[the player walks around the library, as the patron continues reading and mumbles to himself]
PATRON 1: That is so strange ...
[the player walks up to another table and begins reading another book]

Eye of the Boulder,
the Runes of the Myth Drainer
My love, my life, my doom! I began my search for the Eye shortly after my nineteenth year, while still in training with the Necromancers. Had I known at that young age what would befall me upon the completion of my undertaking, I would have spent my days differently, seeking companionship over mystic power; warm love rather than cold stone. But my desire for the Eye was all consuming.
It is said to have been found at the heart of an otherworldly chunk of rock, perhaps a part of some ancient tool or weapon, that fell from the sky during a time when godlike beings fought for dominance of this world and the worlds beyond. The Eye was later sundered into half a dozen finely chiseled runestones by the Leechlord, referred to in some texts as 'the Drainer of Myths'. The subsequent detains concerning the runestones and their uses became the events of legend, as Tempests and heroes fought for possession of the pieces of the Eye. Though it took many years, it was I who finally managed to collect all the pieces. And with each part of the Eye that I added to my collection, my power grew, enabling me to recover successive pieces with greater ease. Obsessively, I laid the groundwork during those years of searching, preparing for the time when I could finally reintegrate the six disc-like pieces of the Eye. On the day of completion, once I had enacted the last of the rituals, my primary apprentice and I fitted the Eye directly into the freshly carved socket at the base of my skull, linking the mystic stone's energies with those of my own nervous system. Only then did I learn that the Eye's sorcerous operations were antithetical to my own. Immediately, its dire effects became apparent. My memory and other mental faculties grew weaker, the images I beheld lost resolution, and the sounds around me began to seem like bland reproductions. I left my hidden tower, staggering forward at a gruelling pace, one step at a time. And since then, the events of my days have seemed the tired tellings of a poor storyteller, and all I have wanted is release. I am ashamed to have wasted so much time and so many of my resources upon such a disappointing thing. I sought nothing less than the Ultimate, but instead received only a pale reflection, a hint of what could have been.

[the player walks up to another table and begins reading another book]

Honor Lost
by Meltzars the Troll
The state of my people leaves me distraught. Even the name Troll is an insult humans hurl at each other, while in my time the name Troll was noble and respected. What factors led my people down this path of twisted barbarisim I will endeavour to discover.
Since I was laid low by the sleeping disease contracted in my studies of the arcane, there were no efforts to revive me, and now I see why. All trolls with any mystic skills are gone!
Indeed it seems that only the ignorant buffoons remain, and are breeding our society into mindless brutes.
After I awakened, I was shocked to see Trolls dressed in no more than rags, and even more suprised at the garbled, vile insults they hurled at me. After they drove me from their shelter (imagine Trolls living in caves like beasts) I encountered a group of our old allies, the Humans. Upon sighting me, they drew weapons and charged! My suprise was equalled by theirs when I turned and ran, believing these to be bandits or raiders. It seems that a Troll who thinks of self preservation is alien to them.
My own clothes are torn and tattered, and it shames me to wear them, but it seems Trolls no longer harvest the silk of the kith. If only I had learned to use the loom in my youth I would spin my own cloth. I also hunger for fine wine and breads, but it seems my fellows have resorted to stealing toraxes from humans and eating them raw. One of the Trolls I currently reside with brought in a Human child, and was going to eat him! I would stand for no more, and blasted the Troll with a spell of light. The others huddled away from me and stared with fear and hatred.
I will carry the injured child back to the gates of the human city. When the guards see my act of goodwill, they will hear me out, and perhaps I will find allies among them.

[the player walks around the library, as the patron continues reading and mumbles to himself]
PATRON 1: That proves my theory ...
[the player walks up to another table and begins reading another book]

The Beauty of Rhian
by Toran
Her luminous candle guides my way in the darkness, warm and soft, my heart sings when bathed in her light. The gentle whisper of love calls out a name, Rhian. And my heart answers it.
Melody is her voice, whispering softly to my soul, a gentle chime of love. While I live, Rhian is my life.

[the player walks up to another table and begins reading another book]

The Saga of Bone Crusher
And so it was in the early days of Pagan that the Titan of Earth, Lithos, declared that all who lived upon his lands should pay homage to him. With his mighty earthquakes, he demanded that the people of Tenebrae bow to him, lest he shake their houses down around them.
"But mighty Lithos," said the Lord Elsmil, the Tempest, "we are under the guidance of Hydros. From her we receive the rain for the crops and the fish for our table. We can not bow to you."
This greatly angered Lithos and to punish the people of Tenebrae, he sent a great army of undead skeletons to slaughter them. Lord Elsmil, went to Hydros.
"Please," he begged her. "The people of your city are being slain by the minions of your brother, Lithos. We must have your help."
Hydros heard the plea of her Tempest and gave to him a mighty hammer.
"You shall have this weapon called Bone Crusher and with it defeat the minions of Lithos." she said. When Lord Elsmil arrived back at the battle, it was going poorly for the Tenebraens. They were fighting bravely, but were outnumbered two to one by the undead. Lord Elsmil let out a mighty roar and waded into the carnage wielding the mighty Bone Crusher. The skeletons fell before him like trees and the tide of the battle was turned. By evening the last of the skeletons were being hunted down in the woods and the town of Tenebrae was saved.
However, Lord Elsmil was missing. The Tenebraens began to look for him. They finally found his crushed body on the battle field, but the wonderous Bone Crusher was nowhere to bee seen.They looked for it for many days and nights, but did not find it. Though several of the searchers found the prints of bony feet in the soft dirt of the western forest. By the looks of the prints, they said, the skeletons were dragging something heavy behind them. A few of the searchers even say they caught a glimpse of bony white and the glint of light off something gold.
To this day, intrepid treasure hunters continue to look for the hammer called Bone Crusher.

[the player walks around the library, as the patron continues reading and mumbles to himself]
PATRON 1: A Torax ... Why?
[the player walks up to another table and begins reading another book]

My dearest Prevan,
I regret to tell you that I will not be home from this visit as soon as I had thought. My healing services will be needed here for some time as a terrible thing has happened to this small village. Two nights ago, as I had just finished my evening rituals, I heard a horrible commotion from the town square. I ran out to see what the trouble was, only to find the town overrun by trolls.
The trolls had come in search of their favorite meal, human children. From house to house they went, ripping doors off and brushing aside the men as if they were no more than flies.
Mothers wailed as babes were torn from their breasts and fathers cried in anguish as one by one their children were eaten alive. The bloody procession went on and on, and I fear the screams and sobs will ring in my darkest dreams forever.
And then, a miracle occured. From the final house, came not a cry of torment, but one of victory. We raced down the street to the house. We found the inside strewn with the bodies of the trolls and there in the middle stood Nehdra, a young woman who had just given birth a few days before. She had her newborn clutched in one arm, in the other was a magnificent golden sword.
She told us that as the trolls burst in, she had grabbed the only weapon she had, a knitting needle, and had cried out to Stratos to protect her child. Instantly, in answer to her plea, the great Stratos turned the needle into a magnificent sword. She said the sword fairly danced in her hand, slaying the trolls left and right until none were left alive.
While I can find some solace in the miracle Stratos performed, I am afraid the task ahead of me is almost overwhelming. I do what I can to ease the hurts, but wounds of the mind Stratos gives no power to heal. I will stay until I have done all I can, then I will carry the sword, now called "Protector" to Argentrock Isle. There I will prepare a small shrine for it in the catacombs beneath the monastery.
I do miss you, my love, and ask that you watch over our dear little Stellos until I can return. It is sad his mother must be away from him so soon after his birth, but I must serve where I am needed. I am sure you understand.
All my love,

[the player clicks on a golden plaque on the wall, which simply reads "Quiet"]
[the player walks up to another table and begins reading another book]

The Voices of Mary
by Salem
I wake in the night and the rooms are all dead,
I follow a dream; she still echoes in my head,
The new girl is twitching, asleep on the floor,
I move through dark rooms, and pass through the door,
Out in the chill, I follow the walk,
The spirits aren't speaking, so there's no need to talk,
The moon has arisen, to flower over the world,
While tendrils of mist snake out, and slowly unfurl,
There's a sign by the sea that doesn't make sense,
And out past the jetty wait sirens, horny and tense,
Briefly, through windows in the pale glass waves,
I see lost faces, ruined heroes in watery graves,
I know what comes next, because I've read all my lines,
I've been over my part, millions of times,
As the waters roll in and I'm swallowed by sea,
I can hear Mary whisper, calling to me,
"Come on, baby," from somewhere she cries,
"I want you to love me like spiders love flies"

[the player walks around the library, as the patron continues reading and mumbles to himself]
PATRON 1: I always wondered about that ...
[the player walks up to another table and begins reading another book]

Gold: Valuable Commodity or Worthless Trash?
by Okapi the Elder
It is oft said that there is no other material as precious as gold. Perhaps one reason that we feel this way is that it gleams and shines like the sun that rises to greet us every morn. However, this is not the only reason we value gold so much. Indeed, there are several reasons other than its beauty that makes it so worthy of praise. Its malleability, conductivity and resistance to corrosion are among the chief reasons we adore this metal.
One very reliable method of extracting this ore from the land is mining. This requires the digging of long, often deep and dangerous shafts within the land. This is often accompanied by the use of explosives that ease the difficulties associated with the removal process. Another method, although not as high-yielding as mining, but much safer, is panning. Panning is done with a shallow pan, and requires, more than anything, patience.
Many of the area streams and brooks abound with gold nuggets and dust, and by filling the pan with silt and washing the silt from the pan, one will find only the heaviest of objects left. And, with the gentile graces of Amoras, those heaviest of objects will turn out to be gold. The process is time consuming, but relaxing and profitable.
Gold has enjoyed a popularity that no other mineral ever has, and will most likely continue to be highly valuable. Besides being the basis for our monetary system, it can be found in jewelry and sculpture, and used for filling decaying teeth, and even as everyday plaques.

[the player walks up to another patron walking around the library]
PLAYER: Hello ...
[the player selects "What is your name?"]
PATRON 2: I am sorry, but I never speak with strangers. It is a quick way to loose your money and your life.
[the player walks up to another table and begins reading another book]

Expedition Journal, Book II
Day Seventeen ... It's been about four days since Salem received the fatal blow, and some strange events have happened. Three children entered the camp before midnight, claiming to be childhood friends of his. When she saw them, Iane let out a fearsome scream and collapsed, and the little strangers made a hasty retreat into the night. How could children be childhood friends of a man in his late thirties?
Day Eighteen ... This morning around breakfast, Iane explained that the childhood companions were only illusions that Salem used to create to entertain himself, and if the illusions still existed, then Salem must still be alive. We will seek advice when we return to Tenebrae.
Day Nineteen ... After a rugged day of travel yesterday, we all expected a much needed and well deserved rest in Tenebrae, but it was not to be. As soon as the door to our leased cabin was opened, those three children were lurking about inside. Still they pleaded for us to rescue Salem, and we had decided to let them stay with us and investigate their claims in the morning. The fact that they knew our destination before we did unnerves me to no end. There was no sleep to be had with the mournful gaze of the oldest child (who calls himself Collin) watching me all night.
Day Twenty ... Today we went on a wild chase with the fire brigade as they attempted to douse several fires that started simultaneously around Tenebrae when a shower of flaming stones rained from the sky. Ianes skirts caught fire, and she raised quite a stir when she lept into the Tempest's fountain to douse them, and discovered it was stocked with snapping eels!
Day Twenty-One ... We have spent the day on the road, following the directions of Collin. He has offered no information about Salem's condition other than he needs help. After what I saw happen to him, there is no way he could be alive. What kind of help does a dead person need? I guess we will find out tomorrow.
Day Twenty-Two ... The black shadow of the keep still falls over us as the sun rises on the other side. The silence and cold here is not natural, and Warwick is convinced we are being watched from the twisted spires. I am going to carry my speaking stone into the place, and it will recognize Salem without error.

[the player walks up to another table and begins reading another book]

Brogdan's Helpful Guide to Mushrooms
by Brogdan
Though many forms of vegetation disappeared after our sun ceased its cycling and our world entered into a state of eternal twilight, many plants, especially mushrooms, have adjusted to the lower levels of sunlight.
Mushrooms have prospered and have become the dominant form of vegetation on our landscape. These range from the man-sized Monster Brown Cap all the way down to the finger-sized yellow and red Silent Sleeper.
Most mushrooms are edible. Mushrooms like the fist-sized Blue Bulgie and the Green Capper are delicious with any meal, though sometimes they may be confused by the less experienced for the blue and green form of Daemon's Paw which can cause rashes, blisters, and general bladder distress.
A helpful mushroom known for its healing properties is the yellow and green Adventure's Friend, found in the wild. When consumed these mushroom tend to restore health, as well as give the consumer a general feeling of euphoria.
Known to keep monsters at bay is the Stench Mushroom. Applying small quantities of this mushroom to your skin in guaranteed to ward away most creatures, except for those who are undead, who seem quite attracted to its pungent odor. The only way the smell of the mushroom can be removed once it is applied is by bathing in juice of the ammatto plant.
A mushroom that you should generally stay away from is the Fire Mushroom. This little mushroom is usually high in sulfous ash and tends to explodes when stepped on.
Since never has there been found a mushroom that is instantly lethal it is safe to say that you may experiment with any of the ones you find in the wild. Remember, the mushroom is our friend.

[the player walks up to a bookshelf and begins reading another book]

Ear of Arricorn: Vol. III
by Kram
The lone stranger slowly rode into the desolate village on the back of his mammoth, white hordax. As he dismounted his beast, he threw the leathery reins over the closest tie rod, then slowly strode to the double doors of the tavern.
Though the tavern roared with the laughter of drunken herdsmen, the jovial spirit quickly flattened like fresh manure thrown against a wall. Everyone turned as the caped stranger entered the smoke filled hovel. The darkly robed individual motioned with two fingers for the stiffest grog. The tavern master quickly obeyed, pouring the thick brew with shaky hands.The women folk left, claiming they needed to visit the house of fecal waste.
"ShadowLander!" called a nasal tinged voice from the rear of the room, "Your type are not welcomed in this acre of the world." Shortly, a path cleared between the ShadowLander and the owner of the high pitched voice.
The voice belonged a squat little Nobbit. He sat with a crooked smile on his smiling face while his hand played with the handle of his jeweled dagger-like sword. On his throat, just above his massive goiter, he openly wore a staff shaped tattoo. Only true herdsmen wore these.
A hush fell over the tavern. No one dared to draw breath.

[the player reads another book on the shelf]

Ear of Arricorn: Vol. IV
by Kram
The lone stranger turned towards the herdsman, still quaffing his grog. A bloodshot eye stared out from under his dark mask. A nervous twitch pulled at the muscle of his leathery cheek.
"Ha!" laughed the herdsman as he waddled up to the bar, "I do not believe the tall tales told of the ShadowLanders'. I believe them to be lies! I think they have less than half the warrior's blood that flows through my little toe!" The Nobbit snorted at his own remark, but looked disappointed when the others did not laugh with him.
He turned back and stared at the stranger straight in the knee. "For those who do not believe this, I will prove it by shedding some yellow DarkLander blood!"
Quickly, he drew his great dagger-like sword. Before the Nobbit could strike, the stranger grabbed the herdsman by the tattoo, and easily lifted him into the air. As the Nobbit began to open his mouth to cry out, the DarkLander shoved his massive fist down the herdsman's gullet. The stranger took a quick pull, and turned the Nobbit in-side-out. He dropped the bloody mess on the bar.
Upon seeing this, some one gave the ancient herdsman warning cry; "Let us move the flock out of here!" The tavern was instantly cleared.

[the player enters the librarian's office, where a male librarian (brown hair, green tunic) is sitting at his desk reading a book]
BENTIC: Such a good book ... I will have to read more on this.
[the player walks around the office, as the librarian does not react to his intrusion (but instead continues reading)]
BENTIC: I must make a note of this ...
PLAYER: Greetings!
BENTIC: Greetings, stranger.
[the player selects "What is your name?"]
BENTIC: My name is Bentic. It is a word of Pagan derivation. I think it originally meant "he who toils hard," but that is not for certain. I have found a number of references to "Ventac" in several older texts and feel that this may be the root of the name "Bentic." And what is your name, friend?
[the player selects "What is Pagan?"]
BENTIC: Pagan? Why, that is the name of this place.
[the player selects "I thought this place was Tenebrae"]
BENTIC: No, no. That is the name of this city. "Pagan" is the name of this land, this all encompassing world upon which we all live out our meager lives.
[the player selects "Your meager lives?"]
BENTIC: When you take into consideration the scope of this world and its history, anything we do or accomplish becomes virtually meaningless. We are but a fraction of the blink of an eye in the history of Pagan.
[the player selects "What do you do?"]
BENTIC: By trade, I am the librarian of this city. However, I prefer to think of myself as a student of life. One who spends his time observing all facets of life. I am a great studier of people. You would be amazed at the things you may learn by simply observing your neighbors in their everyday life.
[the player selects "Tell me of your neighbors"]
BENTIC: I think the one I like to spend the most time with is Devon. He is such a sharp fellow. I think he has far more potential than even he realizes.
[the player selects "Devon has potential?"]
BENTIC: Yes, I can't put my finger on it, but there is something there. Call it a hunch, if you will. I just seem to feel that there is something about him that suggests great things. He does love to read. Maybe he is destined to be a great scholar.
[the player selects "Tell me of the people"]
BENTIC: Ah, are you a student of life as well? I do so enjoy finding someone who shares the same passions as I do. The people here in Tenebrae are a varied and fascinating lot. They go about their daily toils, laboring under the yoke of a somewhat ... restrictive government, and yet still find the time to enjoy themselves occasionally.
[the player selects "A restrictive government?"]
BENTIC: Hmmm, it is not quite the safe thing to discuss here. Even my interest in knowledge and books can not protect me from Lady Mordea. You might say she has a rather ... short temper. Why, just recently her guards confiscated my personal diary, though I don't have any idea why.
[the player selects "Tell me of the library"]
BENTIC: The library is my joy. It is where I spend all my time, studying the words left by our predecessors. You can not believe what is in these books. They contain the wisdom of many ages in them. Too many people overlook the knowledge of our past generations. Because of this, we are doomed to repeat the same mistakes over and over again.
[the player selects "Tell me of the books"]
BENTIC: My library is full of many books. Are you a scholar as well? Oh, I am so happy to have met you. Please feel free to make use of my library and books. We shall have many interesting discussions, I am sure.
[the player selects "Does he know how I may leave Pagan?"]
BENTIC: Leave Pagan? My goodness, I don't think I've ever had anyone ask for that ... but then again, you don't act, talk, or dress like anyone I've ever seen before. Let's see, I can only suggest you speak to someone with more magic abilities than I. Mythran could help you or, though I dread to suggest it, perhaps the Necromancer could help you.
[the player selects "Who is Mythran?"]
BENTIC: Mythran lives in a small house on the Plateau. He has been known to dabble in the various magical arts and is a scholar. He often makes magical scrolls and things and sells them.
[the player selects "Mythran practices magical arts?"]
BENTIC: Yes, though I'm not sure what school he follows.
[the player selects "Mythran is a scholar?"]
BENTIC: Well, of sorts. He enjoys studying and reading books as I do, but he will form an opinion and tout it as perfect. He will even cite his own writings as examples of perfect creative thinking. This makes talking to him a bit ... tedious. But he is a good source of information.
[the player selects "Where is the Plateau?"]
BENTIC: From the palace in the center of Tenebrae, head north out of the city. Follow the path through the Valley to a cave entrance. Go through the cave. It opens on the other side of the mountain on the Plateau.
[the player selects "What schools?"]
BENTIC: Why, the four elemental schools, of course. There are those who follow Lithos and practice his magic. These spells are mostly earth-based spells. They require long hours of study and practice to cast correctly, or so I've read. The Tempestual magics of Hydros are only available through heredity, and so are unavailable to the majority. Now the magics of Pyros, the fire elemental, are quite spectacular to watch, but very dangerous to the caster. Stratos, on the other hand, provides healing magics, although she requires strict obedience to her tenets.
[the player selects "Bye"]
BENTIC: Thank you for dropping by, and come visit me any time.
[the player walks around the office, as the librarian continues reading his book]
BENTIC: I never knew that! Fascinating!
[the player walks up to the second floor of the library, and begins reading from another book sitting on a table]

Ear of Arricorn: Vol. VI
by Kram
The lone stranger dismounted from his mammoth hordax, shaking the heavy drops from his cloak. The cave he had entered was small, its capacity barely providing shelter for his beast from the deluge that poured from the angry sky outside.
He ventured deeper into the cavern to find room enough to remove his rain soaked garments.
Stepping through a stony portal, he found himself suddenly bathed in the warm glow of a tallow fed lantern. Upon his entry into the cave seven pairs of shocked eyes turned in his direction.
"Argh! A thief is here to take our gems!" cried one of the little men as he thrust his shovel in the stranger's direction. "You try it, and I'll cut your eyes out and feed them to the snails!"
"Hold your blade, you grumpy old fool!" called one of the others, "this nice man might be here to help us."
"Nice man?" retorted the other, "If you were not such a dopey twit you would recognize him as a ShadowLander. He helps no one but himself."
"What shall we do, Doc?" call one of the others, too bashful to show his face in the light.
The small man who appeared to be in charge stepped forward to size up the stranger. "Well, judging from all that trouble we had with that female a while back, I'd say we could save ourselves a pack of trouble and just put a pick up side his head right now!"
Suddenly, six shadowy figures leapt forwards. In a flash, the lone stranger's dark blade appeared in his hands.
Quietly, it whistled through calm air, practicing its deadly craft. In the blink of an eye, six small heads fell cleft from six small frames.
The last midget, the one slowest in wit, made a tasty morsel for the stranger's hordax ...

[the player walks up to another table and begins reading another book]

De-venoming the Kith
by Ioria
Removing the venom sacs from a kith should only be done to an animal between the ages of four to six days. Sedate the kith by allowing it to inhale the vapors of boiling kalas leaves and mushroom spores. Do not breathe these vapors or intense headaches and dizzyness will occur.
Once the animal is sedated, roll it over onto its back and locate the bony plate at the base of the mandible.
Insert a wedge or pick into the seam at the base of this plate, and press firmly until the plate begins to slide. It will still be attached to the abdomen by several fiberous bands. Lay the plate back over the abdomen and locate a pale membrane near the base of the mandible. Make an incision diagonally across the membrane and wedge it open. Inside there is a purple muscle. Slide this muscle towards the Kith's head, and underneath is a green or yellow gland with two tubes leading into the throat.
Wrap the gland in a heavy cloth, and clamp off the larger of the tubes as close to the gland as possible. Cut the tube just behind the clamp, and firmly squeeze the gland until any venom in it has been forced down the remaining tube. Cut the second tube and lift out the empty gland. Now stitch together the ends of the tubes, and fill the cavity with the boiled kalas leaves. Slide the muscle back in place, and stitch the membrane closed. Repeat the process at the base of the second mandible. When both glands have been removed, lay the plate back over the exposed area, and bind to the kiths's body with cord or bandages until it re-attaches.
Note: Some kith have no venom sac on the right side of the head. If the gland is not visible after opening the cavity, it may be one of these animals, but search the area throughly before closing the cavity.

[the player reads another book on the table]

Adventure Quarterly
Vol. IX
Dear Adventurer!
Within these pages lies your path to unimaginable wealth and power. All you must do to gain such is to read and learn of the strange and exotic places that hold the keys to your wildest dreams. Enter into a realm where money, power, and pleasure await you. All you must have to gain them is the courage and the heart for adventure!
The Forgotten Riches of Knarl
Some say it is an island, while others swear that it deep within the earth. All agree though that the way to Knarl lies somewhere within the lower catacombs, though the way was lost due to a great earthquake.
Many generations ago, back before the sun circled over head, there was a passage that led to this place. Traders flocked to and fro, for this was a place of great wealth.
It is said the great weapon forges of Knarl created many of the magical weapons that we have today, explaining why we have very few in these times.
Other riches lie in the forms of spells. Knarl was known to have had a great library in which many of the great spellcasters of the day went to study and record their findings. Some say that the magethief Vermin and the enchanter Varkus studied there in their youth.
Some say it was not an earthquake what shut the passage from our world to Knarl, but that it was sealed by magic! There is rumor that a sect was forming at the library, a sect of monks known as the Dark Brothers. It is said that these monks wished to keep the secrets and the treasures of Knarl to themselves.
Though this is only a rumor, many of the old books and the tales handed down from father to son mention "the Brother's Below." Is this a reference to the Dark Brothers?
It is said that the way to this magical place lies deep within the heart of the Catacombs. Only there will you find the way to both riches, glory, and power. For he who is of sound heart and of steady sword will be the one to find the passage to Knarl.

[the player reads another book on the table]

Adventure Quarterly
Vol. XII
Dear Adventurer!
Within these pages lies your path to imaginable wealth and power. All you must do to gain such is to read and learn of the strange and exotic places that hold the keys to your wildest dreams. Enter into a realm where money, power, and pleasure await you. All you must have to gain them is the courage and the heart for adventure!
The Ship of Doom
Many tales have been handed down from generation to generation about a mighty ship that sailed from the port of Tenebrae. It is said that this ship was so big that it actually dwarfed the palace of the Tempest and needed a crew of hundreds!
Many years ago, a bitter winter buried the city up to its roof tops in ice, threatening to destroy all the food supplies, and to freeze to death all the town's inhabitants. Since no one could explain the reason for the foul winter, it was decided that a great ship be sent to find and appease whatever was causing this disaster. The ship was to sail to a distant shore, carrying the wealth of all the citizens in hopes of rescuing the city and its inhabitants.
This ship it is said departed laden with the wealth of the city just before the water around the port of Tenebrae froze solid. Because the sea was freezing in its wake, no ships could be sent to follow. It sailed away into a dark and forbidding twilight.
The ship never did return, and most think that it went to the bottom of the sea. But some say that it found a distant shore and completed its mission, pointing to the fact that the winter storms faded away days after the ship's departure, never to return either.
Some old timers say that the ship still sails upon the sea, frozen in a huge block of ice, its riches and crew a silent offering to whatever sent the wintry storms.Though most will tell you this is a myth, some of the older ones will swear that the story of the ship is true. To whoever is of sound heart and steady of sword, the riches, and the dangers, await you in the hull of a frozen ship. A ship that has sailed off into, the zone of twilight.

[the player returns to the librarian's office and reads the book on his desk]

Stories To Make Children Sleep
by Brother Grim
Jelly was a lad who was so hard to please,
nothing would he eat, except for plates full of cheese!
His obsession was strange and no one knew why.
He swore cheese was his meal till the day that he died.
His father, a strong man who was hearty and pink,
was at his wits end, and driven to drink.
He would stay at the tavern, and tell of his woe,
on cheap tankards of grog his money he'd blow.
"My son, a good lad, though a little bit chunky,
has turned into a ravenous limburger junky!"
"All my land and my house and the coins in my purse,
I will give to the man who can remove this foul curse!"
The old man's plea went out and was told near and far,
it was whispered by gossips, and made light of in the bar.
But one day into town strolled a strange little fellow,
his robes were all tattered, and his skin a sickly yellow.
"I can cure your boy!" he told the ripe drunken sod,
"I will make him good as new, this lad you call Todd."
The father cried, "His names not Todd! It's Jelly, you snot!
But go on and give it a try ... Give it your best shot."
But before he started, the mage asked for first,
for a small taste of grog, to quell a quick thirst.
After slamming four tankards he got back to work,
though his eyes did spin, and his hands did jerk.
With the boy before him, the mage reared back,
while clutching his reagents in a small toad sack.
He sent out flames of red, green and blue
that engulfed the boy, hiding him from all's view.
When the flames died away, as well as the stench,
To the father's red eyes, his boy-Was a wench!
"Oh no!" he cried, and he cursed this new fate,
"My hard working boy now looks like dungeon bait!"
"How could you do this, you dottering old fool!
Did you sleep every day while in wizardry school?"
With the excitement now over, the father settled down,
upon the nearest table, his head he did pound.
Suddenly, a dark robed figure entered into the grog joint,
and at the old mage a withered finger he did point.
Then with a flash of yellow, the mage disappeared,
Everyone dove for cover, for spellcasters they now feared.
With an incantation shouted by the figure in black
the young boy named Jelly quickly transmuted back.
As he left the place everyone heard the words of the monk,
"Never let a bad spell caster cast spells, especially drunk!"
To this very day the young boy they call Jelly,
continues to stuff away cheese in his portly pot belly.
But his father is content, and he will always smile,
"This beats worrying about a daughter by a country mile."
"Tis not that I don't want a girl," claims the tired old father,
"But when a boy is young, he is less of a bother."
"A young boy you must check up on every time and again,
"But! With a young girl, you must watch all the young men ... "

[the player walks up to the librarian]
BENTIC: Ah, yes ...
PLAYER: Greetings, Bentic!
BENTIC: Hello! I am glad to see you again.
[the player selects "Bye"]
BENTIC: Thank you for dropping by, and come visit me any time.
[the player walks around the office, as the librarian continues reading his book]
BENTIC: I wonder if Devon knows this?
[the player exits the office and walks up to another patron sitting at a table and reading]
PLAYER: Greetings.
PATRON 3: Shhhhh!
[the player clicks on the book that the patron is holding and begins reading]

The Mythology of the Zealan Deities
by Yradan the Scholar
Throughout the ages our people have looked beyond themselves to find the answers to the many mysteries of life. Today we know that the Titans, masters of the four elements, control our destinies and direct the many forces that affect our lives.
However, such was not always the case.
Our Zealan forebears know not of the power of the Titans. Instead they worshipped the common emotions. Not realizing that feelings are popular sensations experienced by all people, the Zealans elevated the three primary emotions -- love, hate, and apathy -- to the ranks of deities.
The goddess of love they named Amoras, giving her the powers of nurturing happiness. To the one called Odion the Zealans attributed the emotions of hate and grief, giving him the role of warrior and protector. To stand between them, our ancestors assigned the role of arbiter and balance to Apathas, ruler of indifference.
Even older texts indicate that the Zealans initially believed in not three, but six such deities! In addition to the rulers of love, hate, and apathy, Felicitar controlled joy, Doloras ruled grief, and Timyra was the patron of fear. Though anthropomorphic in nature, some of them had animalistic features, such as Doloras and his torax head. Through time, however, the Zealans found it difficult and inconvenient to pay homage to so many gods and goddesses, so they elected to combine the aspects into three.
A confusing aspect of the Zealan gods serves to display the fickle nature of our ancestors' beliefs. The Zealans believed that, while the deities ruled the emotions, they were also subject to them. The more Zealans who experience a particular feeling, the stronger that deity's power grew. Conversly, discarded emotions, however temporary, meant a weakened deity, forcing some to enter near-catatonic states until they gained enough followers to re-emerge. Thus, an improbable cycle took place. As Odion planted the seed of hate within one of his subjects, and as that seed grew and took root in other warriors, Odion would become more powerful, spreading the hatred even further.
Though most Zealans believed they had contact with their gods through their thoughts and emotions, only the priests and a select few were allowed to speak directly to them. The Zealans constructed great mountain-side temples housing gaudy shrines to the three or six patrons. Several labyrinths were excavated and filled with deadly traps.
Secret passages were made for the priests to enter, while the few Zealans who dared to seek an audience with the gods were forced to overcome the foils of the dungeons. Many died trying, few succeeded.
Once before the Zealan deities, the worshipper still had to present one of the ancient seals before gaining permission to speak. These seals were round shields of wrought metal, embossed into a triad of sections, one depicting a reddish scimitar, another showing an open palm displaying a heart, and the third revealing an image of balanced scales.
Having passed through the test of the great shrines and offered the appropriate icon, a Zealan follower would then be allowed to pray for a boon from one or all of the gods.
Regardless of whether the plea was heeded, considerable sacrifices of animals and valuables were required. Rarely did these acts lead to any benefit, though some stories claim that the legendary Khumash-Gor first conferred with his patrons before he was able to unify the warring tribes.
There is much to be learned from studying the mythology of the past. Although we know today that the powers of the Titans are -- unlike the deities of our forbears -- quite real, we can learn much about the violent and emotional personalities of our ancestors.

[the player walks up to another table and begins reading another book]

The Big Book of Adventure
by Sladek
Recorded on these pages are tips I have found while on my adventures. Read well, fellow quester, for your life may well be saved by recalling these in your time of need.
Puzzles: You will be in luck if such puzzles are played with levers. These are usually not harmful, and require little time, if you watch your surroundings for clues. Center levers usually reset the puzzle.
Traps: If there is a chest sitting innocently in the open, touch it not! Especially if it has many corpses around it! These are the other dolts who fell for it.
Chests of Loot: Rarely do chests have anything in them. Open them at your risk. It will serve you well to carry a magic scroll to check for traps within these!
Tricks of the Trixter: Judge them by their cover, for they read differently than other books...
Mazes: Always mark your path! Use rocks or wood. Never bread crumbs! Beware of treasure! It is there to lead you from the path!
Spell Chits: Always read the text on the outside of these scrolls to identify them. Once you have opened them, their magic will immediately be released upon reading.

[the player reads another book on the table]

Many are the rumors of the magical and the supernatural which exist outside of the Titanic magic. Now, of course any reasonable person knows that any such thing is nonsense. Any thinking person must know that the Titans are the only magic in the world. However, in the interest of fairness, for any who may doubt that the True Magic is held only by the Titans, I have investigated three well known reported cases of magical ocurrences that fall outside of the Titanic influence.
The first episode of magic which I investigated was an occurence in which a woman who lives outside of Tenebrae who claimed to know something about a ghost who had some magic capabilities. The woman's name is Kilandra and she makes her living as a fisherwoman. Let me assure all that this woman knows nothing of the supernatural. In fact, Kilandra knows virtually nothing at all. Quite frankly, I found this woman to be completely mad. She would ramble on constantly about her daughter to the point where I began to believe that her daughter does not even exist. All of the outlandish stories about her daughter could not apply to just one person. Therefore, in my expert opinion, the daughter is purely fictional. Anything else that Kilandra had to talk about where things that the fish told her. Therefore, it is perfectly clear that this woman is completely mad and anything that she has to say can not be believed.
The second event which many people have reported as magical are the mysterious Lights of the Plateau. Very few people have even reported having seen these, yet the lights have lived on in Pagan lore for a very long time. Many people believe that these lights are some sort of magic which is generated some unknown force of nature. Others believe these lights to be some sort of magical energy which is created by the hermit that lives upon the plateau. Such opinions are, of course the result of people spreading unsubstantiated rumors without looking into basic facts. I have disproven the myth that these lights even exist by doing what others simply would do: I took the leisurely stroll up to the Plateau and investigated things myself.
I walked up to the Plateau which, by the way, is a lovely walk that I recommend everyone to at least once. Once at the Plateau, I met with the old hermit who lives there. Now, I must say that this was the most difficult part of my investigation. This old man, Mythran is his name, was a gruff, unfriendly fellow. This Mythran has nothing to do but lay about all day long, yet getting him to answer my questions was like pulling teeth from a troll. He spoke to me in short, sharp sentences which he virtually spit into my face. And the worst thing of all is that this silly old man thought that he knew more of the world than I did! Well, I did manage to get Mythran to assure me that there were no magical lights that danced about upon the Plateau. I am sure that he would not lie to -me- as I am employed by the Lady Mordea and therefore carry Her influence.
The third instance of magic which I have disproven beyond the shadow of a doubt is the alleged existance of a magical axe called Deceiver. This axe is supposed to be found on a small island off of Stone Cove. The island, which can not be seen by land, is supposed to be reached by stones which rise above the water, only to sink again in a matter of moments. As I had no intention of going through those awful catacombs, I sailed to Stone Cove to investigate. I can assure one and all that there is no island off of Stone Cove and there certainly is no magical axe. Nor did I see any rising and sinking stones.
Of course, the stones were the only plausible part of this ridiculous story. I did think it quite possible for The Lurker to create just such a thing so that She may amuse Herself. So there you have it, dear reader. Irrefutible proof that there is no magic in the world other than that which the Titans have chosen to create. I realize that this book may take a little bit of fantasy out of some people's daily lives, but if we are to better serve our Lady, we must all live in the here and now.


From wikipedia.org:

Ultima VIII: Pagan is a video game, the eighth part of the role-playing video game series Ultima. It was not as well-received as its predecessors, Ultima VII and Ultima VII Part Two: Serpent Isle. Developed in 1994, it is a DOS-only title and is also the first game in the series to be rated M in North America.

Following the defeat of the charismatic religious leader Batlin on Serpent Isle, the Guardian banishes the Avatar to a world that he has already conquered: Pagan. Ultima VIII has a much darker tone and a very different premise, in comparison to most of the Ultima games. The world of Pagan is entirely different from that of Britannia: the Virtues were not part of Pagan's culture, and the magic systems and monsters were entirely different.

The world of Pagan is in eternal twilight as the result of an ancient battle between the Elemental Titans and the evil "Destroyer", which resulted in the victory of the Titans. However, the people of Pagan had to pay a high price: the Titans had to henceforth be worshiped as gods. The Titans bestow powers on their most ardent followers, but they are otherwise cruel and unloving rulers, and their followers terrorize the general population.

Ultima VIII sets off where Ultima VII Part Two: Serpent Isle ended: The Guardian has grasped the Avatar from the Void, and now drops him into the sea of the world Pagan through a pentagram-shaped portal. In the introduction, the Guardian reveals his plot: "You have been a thorn in my side for far too long, Avatar. Your two worlds will be crushed. Britannia first, then Earth. I shall parade you before their conquered peoples as the fallen idol of a pathetic ideal. I banish you to the world of Pagan. No one here knows of the Avatar!"

The Avatar regains consciousness on the shore after being rescued from the sea by a fisherman (who turns out to be an important character later on in the plot). He soon witnesses the execution by beheading of a townsman, ordered by the tyrannic ruler of the region, Lady Mordea.

Later, visiting the wizard Mythran, he learns that there are four Titans on Pagan, each one having one of the Elements as his/her domain: Water (Hydros), Air (Stratos), Fire (Pyros) and Earth (Lithos). The more privileged followers of Lithos are identified as necromancers, the wizards that trap Pyros and tap him for their power as sorcerers, the followers of Stratos as theurgists and the (albeit highly selective) followers of Hydros as tempests. Apart from those, a fifth type of magic known as Thaumaturgy exists and is pioneered by Mythran. In order to escape Pagan, the Avatar has to overcome many obstacles and master the ways of all titans, finally becoming the Titan of Ether: the magical field and fifth element.

During his quests, the Avatar collects the four artifacts of the Titans, unleashing violent thunderstorms, hurricanes, earthquakes and meteor showers by doing so. These artifacts allow him to enter the Ethereal Plane and defeat the Titans on their own turf. The Avatar then reconstructs the original blackrock gate that originally allowed the Guardian to enter Pagan. By entering the reconstructed gate, the Avatar is teleported back to Britannia, which is now ruled by the Guardian.


From ultimacodex.com:

Bentic is a Pagan scholar living in Tenebrae. He appears in Ultima VIII.

Bentic was a gentle man with a deep love of learning, who derived great satisfaction from his position as Tenebrae's librarian. He was a friend to all who had a thirst for knowledge, and had tutored many of the city's adults as children.

When the Avatar met him shortly after their exile to Pagan, Bentic was more than happy to furnish the hero with information about their new surroundings, and could tell them much about the world and its history. He would even lend them a copy of his book, The Chronicle of Pagan, should they express interest. Eventually, when the Avatar asked about the possibility of leaving Pagan, Bentic would admit that he had no answers, and would direct the hero to seek out the hermit Mythran.

In time, Bentic's research would cause him to run afoul of Mordea, as he discovered evidence which indicated she was not the rightful Tempest, and that the local fisherman Devon was her older half-brother and therefore legitimate heir to the throne. When Mordea became aware of his discovery, she had Bentic swiftly executed and called for Devon's arrest, hoping to silence any questions as to her birthright.

* The theurgist, Cyrrus, is a former pupil of Bentic's, and will express sorrow should the Avatar bring him news of the man's death.
* Orlok will claim that Bentic was formerly in league with a fearsome pirate known as Bloody Bobby, and that he has a treasure map leading to the buccaneer's treasure tattooed on his chest. If asked about this rumor, Bentic will dismiss it as false.
* Bentic is interested in the origins and meanings of names and will research the Avatar's name should the hero speak to him multiple times. He will find that their name means "champion" or "avatar" in archaic Pagan.


From nullneuron.net:

Execution on the Docks
You wake up on the shores of a distant land, and a fisherman called Devon talks to you. You should get to know him, as he is a very important character. If you choose the right options or talk to him again, he will direct you to Bentic the scholar. When you tell him Goodbye, he will tell you that you can take his things and that there appears to be trouble on the docks.

Devon said you can take his things, so do so. The bedroll is very handy, so double click it to roll it and take it with you. You can also take Devon's food if you intend to eat during your travels.

Now, it's time to see what's going on at the Docks. Go west until you come to a wooden staircase, going up to the docks. There, you will find two barrels. One contains a box and a bottle, and the box holds a dagger and, if you have the patch, it will also have the keyring. Equip the dagger and take the keyring. The other barrel has a scroll about the Skull of Quakes, which you will encounter during your pilgrimage to the Zealan Shrine, and some mushrooms.

If you go north to the gates of Tenebrae, the guard will tell you that the gates are closed and will remain so until the execution takes place. So just go south and watch the execution, where Toran is decapitated by Shaana by Mordea's command. Toran's head falls into the sea and is eaten by a minion of the lurker, and then everyone leaves while Rhian sobs over her husband's body and Tarna turns to you. You can read what is said and what happens in the execution since I have it online. You have no choice but to answer Tarna's questions, then you are free to go.

Collecting stuff
This part is optional, but will get you some useful things. If you go onto the higher ground, on the east side of the docks, you will notice two things - a locked chest in a ruined wooden building and a patch of adventurers' mushrooms which you will recognise by their yellow colour and green spots. You should take some of these mushrooms with you, as they will heal you when you eat them. Do not confuse them with the poisonous mushrooms you will find on the west side of the docks (they have red spots), as those will deduct hit points instead.

Now let us open that chest... be warned, however, that it is trapped. Go back down onto the lower ground and follow the shore east, and keep following it when it turns north, until you come to the wall. There, behind a tree, is a box. It is very hard to spot as it is well camouflaged, but this picture will help you to locate it. It has the key to that chest as well as a couple of potions. Add the key to your keyring (if you have the keyring, which is only available in the patched version) and take the potions, and now you can go and open the chest, which will explode upon opening, but you can easily heal yourself. It is well worth it because you will find five death disks on the skeleton inside, and a helmet. Now, go to the Tenebrae gates, north of the docks. Answer the guard's questions and enter.

Central Tenebrae
You are now in Central Tenebrae. To the north is the Tempest's Palace, and west and east are two other parts of Tenebrae. The poor folk live in the west while the richer people inhabit the east. If you are desperate for equipment, you will see two locked guard towers connected by a bridge to the north. You can climb onto the bridge and loot the place, but it is stealing, so don't get caught.

Now, go north to the palace. Go on the roof by either climbing from the door of the palace or by using a staircase inside. In the middle of the roof, you will see a Recall Pad - a grey square which will rise and start pulsating when you go near it. Go near it and activate it - it will save you lots of trouble later on. There is also a patch of adventurer's mushrooms just outside the east wing of the palace if need healing or want to stock up on it.

Now that the Recall Pad on the palace in Central Tenebrae is active, you can now get off the roof and go to East Tenebrae, where Bentic lives.

East Tenebrae
Your objective now is to speak to Bentic, the scholar and librarian. I at first had trouble locating the library - it is near the northwestern edge of East Tenebrae. Bentic should be upstairs, or else on the west part of the library downstairs. You will recognise him by his green shirt. Ask him about Tenebrae and about leaving Pagan, and tell him you wish to leave Pagan. Bentic will direct you to Mythran, so ask him where he lives. He will say you must go north of Tenebrae and enter a cave that leads to the Plateau, where Mythran lives. Go back to Central Tenebrae, then run through the palace and leave via the northern exit.


From notableultima.com:

as recorded by Salkind, the Scheneshal of Tenebrae
during the reign of her ladyship Mordea.

The following is a list of the crimes of known enemies of the state, and of the swift and just punishments as decreed by her ladyship;

Armin; Guilty of inciting and spreading rebellious ideologies counter to the views of the state, inventing and proclaiming malicious slander against her ladyship, provoking treasonous acts in public, and assaulting the captain of the guard, highway robbery, and treachery. Punishment: Death by beheading.

Hermes; Writing many treasonous and slanderous articles against the government, participating in the forging of royal documents, arousing riots and melees and other civil disturbances, resisting formal arrest, and other vile and treacherous acts.

Brandem; Guilty of participating in public disturbances aimed at undermining the state, destruction of public property, making threats against prominent members of the community, plotting the assassination of her ladyship, baccaneering, and other vile acts of treachery. Punishment: 100 lashes, then death by beheading.

Dibeyer; Guilty of exciting the public to hysteria with controversial rhetoric banned by the state, calling unlawful gatherings and assembles, inciting the youth of Tenebrea to pillage and plunder their own town, damage to state property through the use of arson, committing statutory rape, public intoxication, striking a guardsman with a wooden club, wounding him, pillaging the poor, and an assortment of other treacherous acts. Punishment: Death by beheading. Also fined 250 coins.

Zoch; Guilty of following the rhetoric exposed by Dibeyer, sales of weapons without a permit from the state, passing counterfeit coins, defrauding widows of their inheritance, public intoxication, poaching on the grounds of the palace, brigandage, and many other acts treacherous in nature. Punishment: Fined, flogged, then Death by beheading.

Toran; Guilty of inciting and spreading ideologies contrary to the state, participating in public disturbances aimed at undermining the government, swindling the public through the sales of fake gems, privateering, purloining, pilfering, pick pocketing, and an assortment of other acts of treachery, too many to mention here. Punishment: Death by beheading.

Bentic; Guilty of researching into forbidden subjects, disobeying royal orders to cease all probings into such studies, speading malicous lies slanderous to Lady Mordea, inventing stories found defamatory to the well-being of the Tempestry, the pilfering of books from the state's library, and acts of treachery too treacherous in nature that they may not be listed here. The confiscated research is secured in the dungeon evidence chamber for further review to determine the presence of additional conspirators. Punishment: Death by beheading.


In my investigations of the royal bloodline I have uncovered many facts---facts have lead me to more questions. Keldan the farmer, son of Treal. Forced to marry Lord Kean's daughter, Celidia. Why would royalty want such a simple man? Keldan and Ariel... Did Celidia ever know? If so, when did she find out? And how? Ariel had a child, a son. Did Keldan send her away to protect them from Celidia, or did Celidia order it?

Celidia demanded a child. Mordea is born with the powers of Tempestry. Yet Lord Kean was no Tempest, nor was his wife... But where is Keldan and Ariel's son? Both mother and child sent to live with the fishermen... Devon knows not his own father... Could Devon be a Tempest?!!? If so, by his being the first birth, his powers would be stronger than Mordea's! I must investigate this further, though if Mordea should uncover my quest, my life will be forfeit...


From wikia.com:

"The Chronicle of Pagan" is the physical manual included with copies of Ultima VIII. It is 32 pages long and written from the perspective of Bentic the scholar, as he himself admits in-game. In reality, Andrew P. Morris is the author.

Of note is the fact that while Bentic endeavored to be objective in his writings, contained within are many subjects of which he inadvertently transcribed a false account or simply could not have known about. As such, the whole book was written somewhat naively under the influence of the Guardian's deception, to be interpreted by the reader accordingly.

The following topics comprise the book:

History of Pagan
History of Britannia
Travelling guide
Important people
Shops and money
The four schools of Pagan Magic


There is little in the world more refreshing to me than knowledge. I remember in my youth hearing tales of legendary times, unexplored places and fantastic beasts. I constantly pestered my parents and instructors with and endless number of questions. How does this work? Why did they act in such a manner? Where can I find these plants? My thirst for information was - nay, still is - insatiable. I spent hours at time investigating all I could about my surroundings.

Unfortunately, as I realized early in life, I lacked much in the way of physical prowess, making exploration difficult. Imagine my pleasure when I discovered that not only did life itself teach me things great and wondrous, but the myriad ancient tomes could offer nearly as much. It was then that I elected to dedicate this humble life to filling my mind and library with all the knowledge I could. Thus, I humbly add these works to the collection of wisdom that already fills the multitude of bookshelves throughout the land. I hope my work may someday imbue the hearts of the others with curiosity.



Ages ago, in the First Epoch of our lands, mankind was able to walk across the plains and traverse the seas which are today so hazardous. Our forebears, known as Zealans, worshipped the false words of the Ancient Ones, the rulers of emotions. The beautiful goddess Amoras, say the ancient texts, controlled the aspects of love and joy, appearing when those feelings were prevalent in Zealan communities. However, when their primitive emotions changed to hate or grief, fierce Odion was there to display his might. Ever holding the links between those two, so the legend goes, is proud Apathas, ruler of cool impartiality. Under the questionable comfort of these three lay the entire world, within which lived and toiled our ancestors.


Our forebears were a simple lot, savagely ignoring rational thought in deference to the false tenets of emotion. They had little sense of society, often quarreling among themselves, and even less knowledge of economy. To their credit, they were skilled warriors and hunters, and many of their martial forms are taught to this day. Centuries passed before a Zealan war chieftain, called Khumash-Gor, conquered most of his competing tribes. He unified them into a single community of considerable size and influence, and ruled for decades before failing to an assassin's poisoned blade. Several of his successors attempted to recapture the qualities of Khumash-Gor's leadership, all of whom failed. Then, once again, the people broke into conflicting clans, keeping only their primitive religion as a unifying aspect of Zealan society.


Then came a glorious change to the people of the land. Spoken only in hushed whispers, the leaders of a religious rebellion first made the words of the Guardian known to the public. This Guardian talked to them within their minds, foretelling of a dark time when a champion of tremendous evil would try to enter their world. This Destroyer would turn the very forces of nature - the elements of earth, water, air and fire - against them, raining destruction across the land. Only by offering worship to those very elements could the people hope to dissuade them from assisting the Destroyer.

Most of the Zealans scoffed, but several heeded the warnings of the Guardian, building, on his advice, a great temple high atop a mountain peak. With much effort and considerable magics they constructed a giant, black obelisk. There, so the Guardian explained, they could focus their worship of the elements, offering lives in sacrifice to the elemental spirits. As the Guardian had promised, the spirits grew in power, assuming titanic forms: Lithos, the Mountain King, Elemental of Earth; Hydros, the Lurker, Elemental of Water; Stratos, the Mystic Voice, Elemental of Air; and Pyros, Lord of Flame, Elemental of Fire.

The archaic deities of the emotions became enraged as their powers diminished, commanding their worshippers to slay the followers of this new religion, who thus became known as Pagans. Brother turned against brother as a bloody war raged across the land. The message of the Guardian grew louder, and fewer Zealans heeded the words of the Ancient Ones, turning instead to the worship of the Elemental Titans. Though the war raged for years, it became quickly apparent that the Pagans would emerge victorious. Thousands of Zealans were killed when Hydros withdrew from their lands and Lithos forever sealed them within the Lost Vale. Then, when the Pagans had nearly routed most of the Zealan resistance, the Guardian gave his final warning: "Take your people and depart from the temple. The Destroyer has come."

The Pagans fled the temple and, just as the Guardian had prophesied, a scarlet visage appeared in the sky - the last time the Pagan sky was visible. The Destroyer's malevolent yellow eyes glared out across the land, finally resting upon the great temple, and bolts of lightning shot forth, obliterating the entire mountain top. The people cried out, calling for the aid of the Titans. Also as predicted, the Titans rose to the challenge, facing the Destroyer in a fantastic battle.

Clouds shrouded the earth. Night and day seemed to cease, pitching the world into a state of never-ending twilight. The earth shook in violent tremors while torrents of rain and hail pelted down from above. The very winds transformed into cyclones, whipping across the land, and volcanoes opened up like wounds, hurling fiery death upon the people. Much of the land was broken apart and many islands were annihilated or forced beneath the seas. Finally, the Titans returned to face the people, claiming victory against the Destroyer.

The world that remained was pitted and scarred, a vast wasteland with a smattering of island chains. The ocean brine had increased ten-fold formerly lush shore plants now withered at the touch of the tide. Many of the survivors, both Pagans and Zealans, gathered on one of the larger islands, from then on called Morgaelin after the volcanic remains of its lone mountain of the same name. However, despite the falling of the Destroyer, the world did not return to peaceful times. The Titans became enamored of their vast powers, demanding even greater sacrifices in return for their past deed. They set upon each other as they vied for supremacy of the world.

The Pagans constructed holy sanctuaries, one for each of the Titans, in an effort to appease them. The fight for control between the Elemental Titans continued, while the few remaining Zealans who had sought refuge in the nearby mountains launched continual raids upon the Pagans. Though the Destroyer was gone, the people were still in constant turmoil.


Calming the Earth
The elder Pagans knew it would be impossible to overcome the might of the Titans, so they sought to bargain instead. They sent a champion, Moriens, to the Hall of the Mountain King to plead with Lithos, begging him to cease his destructive quakes. In return, Lithos demanded the service of the people, even beyond life. Upon their deaths the people were to be interred, and thus conveyed to his realm for eternal slavery. In addition, ordered the hungry Mountain King, several Pagans must be given to him immediately. With this pact Lithos would not only quiet the land, but also instill within Moriens the magical powers necessary to perform rituals required to satisfy the Titan of Earth, including minor manipulation of the earth. The elders accepted the terrible price and the covenant was formed.

Moriens became the leader of the Pagans - the first in a long line of Necromancers. He established a cemetery near the newly built Tenebrae, City of Eternal Twilight. He selected several elderly citizens to volunteer as Lithos' first servants. As agreed, the tremors ended and the earth calmed.

As the decades passed, Moriens began to feel within himself the infirmity of age and its resultant illnesses. He went to Lithos and asked to have his life extended so that he might continue his work. The Mountain King explained that such was not within his power, but that there was another way to have the Pagans continue their service. He permitted Moriens to choose an Apprentice so that, upon his death, a new Necromancer would assume his position. In turn, the deceased Necromancer would enter into a different service that the other Pagans, tone that involved eternal rest, where his wisdom could be called upon by other Necromancers down through the ages. Each succeeding Necromancer would, in turn, find an Apprentice to whom the powers would be passed on upon death. The earth shook no more, but still the volcano raged, the winds blew and the rains fell.

Stilling the Seas
Many generations of hardships passed and a hero became known to the people. His name was Kalen, and in time he became their Necromancer. He fell in love with his Apprentice, who returned his affections, and soon they were to undergo the Ceremony of Bonding. Then tragedy befell them as Hydros, considerably displeased with the pact between Lithos and the Pagans, sent a great wave to wash across the city, pulling Kalen's beloved into the seas. As the people began repairs to the city, Kalen headed to the Temple of Flowing Waters.

There Kalen begged for the return of his betrothed, but Hydros refused his request. Instead she revealed to him the image of his love in her new form, pale and sickly as that of one of the Lurker's minions. Thoughts of vengeance entered Kalen's mind and he visited Lithos to learn of means for justice. He found the Mountain King eager to comply, having no love for a rival Titan. Lithos revealed that a powerful substance, called Blackrock, was immutable by any amount of the Lurker's powerful waves.

Kalen remembered the tales of the ancient Pagan Temple and the great obelisk. He returned to the volcano and found in the crater the remains of the obelisk. There, in the murky waters continually filled by Hydros' rains, was the darkened silt of this Blackrock. Using his Necromantic powers, Kalen reshaped the crater to prevent fresh water from entering the Temple of Flowing Water. In addition, he melded the Blackrock into the crater wall, preventing the Lurker from eroding away the land. He had trapped Hydros.

Entering the Temple, Kalen was prepared to destroy both it and Hydros by reforming the crater. His intention was that not enough water should remain for the Titan's existence. Before he could complete the task, the Lurker's pleas stayed his hand. She promised to return his beloved's body so that it could be interred properly, no longer a servant to the Titan of Water. She also offered to pass on to him and all in his future bloodline a modicum of her powers, equal in measure to the abilities he gained from l,ithos. Kalen accepted her bargain for the good of the people. From that point on, the storms ended, and two separate sects of magic, Necromancy and Tempestry, were present in the land.

Assisting the Air
Several years after the torrential rains ceased, a mystical voice contacted Stellos, a wizened follower of Stratos, while he was praying at Argentrock Isle. The voice identified herself as Stratos, ruler of Air. Stellos began telling others of the Mystic Voice, but they thought nothing of his insane ranting ... until he began performing miracles. Quickly it spread through the land that Stellos could aid the sick and draw truth from the lips of liars. Word of his powers reached Kalen, who brought to Stellos the body of his betrothed. The elderly man took Kalen's love to Windy Point and asked for the power to return her to life.

Stratos explained that the woman's body had been separated from her spirit for too long. It would be possible to breathe life into her, but only at great cost. Hoping to repay Kalen for his work in ending the rains, Stellos agreed to the unknown fee. Stratos permitted the determined man to send his spirit into the realm of Air. Farther and farther he went, facing tremendous winds. There he finally found a shimmering cloud at the very verge of the sky itself and something he later called the ethereal void. As he entered the cloud, the light of day confronted him; he was the first and, to this day, only Pagan to see sunlight in many generations. On the dark island below, his mouth opened and from it flowed the breath of life into the body of Kalen's beloved.

The old man, prepared to greet the lovers, returned to his body only to discover he had lost his vision - forever blinded by the sight of the sun. Kalen began to weep, but Stellos bade him stop. He was himself truly joyful at the sight he had witnessed far above the darkness of the clouds. To show his gratitude, Kalen commanded the rocky ground to form the walls for a stone construct to house and protect the old man. Here Stellos could pass on his knowledge of healing and purification throughout the ages, for with the power of resurrection came immortality. Stellos and his pupils became known as Theurgists, and together they were proclaimed the Order of Enlightenment. The Order was never wanting for students, for one Titan's violence was yet unquelled, and with the fires came always the wounded.

Binding the Flame
Centuries after Stellos' miracle of resurrection, a group of five Theurgists pooled their knowledge and resources to learn more about the Lord of Flame. During their studies, they reached an important realization. If Blackrock was anathema to the Lurker, they conjectured, perhaps it held debilitating effects for Pyros, as well. Knowing that the fires spewing from the volcano would annihilate the island in less than a year, the five acted on their speculation.

Some of the Theurgists visited the Necromancer to procure as much Blackrock as they could. They received several small chips, in addition to a single fragment larger than a man's head. Other Theurgists set about formulating the necessary diagrams and components required to shape the dark substance, and with luck, bind Pyros within.

Finally, the five were ready to begin. They drew a pentagram upon the floor in Pyros' Temple, setting the Blackrock in the center where the Lord of Flame was likely to appear. Four of the Theurgists took a point of the pentagram and knelt in readiness, while the fifth stood at the final point and began the traditional Ritual of Summoning. As expected, Pyros appeared in a searing blaze of fire. Immediately feeling the effects of the Blackrock with which he was in contact, he pointed towards a Theurgist and instantly enveloped him in fire. Before the dying Theurgist's tortured scream could fade, the remaining four made up for the loss and quickly commenced the binding process' chants. Flames licked about the Theurgists as they intoned the various words of power until finally it was over. Pyros was bound in the larger fragment.

Adversely affected from within the Blackrock, Pyros was unable to hurl lava upon the Pagans. At first the Thcurgists were revered as saviors, until the people began to realize what corrupting mental transformations had been required of the four Theurgists. Rightly fearing the power the Theurgists wielded over fire, the people labeled them Sorcerers for their dealings with Daemons, and shunned them. The Sorcerers readily accepted their fate and secreted themselves away from the others. They named a Master Sorcerer, though after a violent death he was replaced by the First Acolyte. Many accusations were cast about who was responsible for the death, though nothing ever came of it. A precedent was set, however, and in the subsequent centuries, the more powerful Acolytes were always ready to take the Mastery from those fellow Sorcerers who grew weak or complacent.


After the Titans were appeased or controlled, the era of peace which still exists to this day settled on the people. The few Zealans who clung tenaciously to their weakening gods are now extinct, though only after the Pagans endured decades of raiding and murder.

People are free to live normal lives. They tend their fields or wares, performing their daily duties as is right. Those few who have instead devoted their lives to the pursuit of magic live apart from the populous. The Necromancers, asked to depart from society to perform the distasteful but necessary task of preparing the dead for Lithos, have handed over their rule to the Tempests. The Sorcerers remain in their hidden enclave, while the Theurgists continue their studies in the monastery on their small island.


Of our land and our culture. However, at Vardion's rather persuasive - and sorcerous - insistence, I have included it within these pages. Though the veracity of the source is unknown, Vardion claims these stories, as told by his grandmother, Mordra, must have some bearing on reality or she would not have passed them on. Vardion is a great and widely respected Sorcerer, and even the Thaumaturge Mythran speaks highly of the aged woman, yet one must wonder about the truth of tales describing this other world, the one called Britannia.

Three Ages of Darkness
During the early formation of this mythical Britannia, there came to be three embodiments of evil. The first was a spellcaster named Mondain, the second was his Apprentice Minax, and the third was their unusual offspring, the entity Exodus. In each case, the ruler of this Britannia called for assistance in defeating the great evil, and, in each case, the same strange champion appeared to conquer the malevolent forces assaulting the land. The stranger was able to claim victory all three times, thus proving considerable courage and skill.

Three Ages of Enlightenment
Following the destruction of the three faces of evil, there came three more times of trial for this world of Britannia. The first involved establishing a set of ethical codes by which the general population should live. In addition, the ruler of the land called for a hero to step forward and solve several quests designed to represent one of the codes of ethics. The selfsame champion who defeated the three sources of ultimate evil emerged successfully from the eight quests, becoming the embodiment of those codes. As champion, the hero was integral in resolving political strife when the ruler of the land disappeared and was replaced by Blackthorn, a tyrannical lord who harshly enforced the letter of the law. Finally, the champion served the kingdom a sixth time, demonstrating that a perceived source of malevolence was in reality a collection of individuals trying to right a serious wrong.

Age of Armageddon
The mighty Thaumaturge Mythran has added a bit of credibility to Mordra's tales by telling one of his own. He does not seem to remember the source of this story, but he believes that it must be part of the mythology put forth by Vardion's grandmother.

Following the sixth adventure, the champion disappeared from the land, returning nearly two centuries later! This time, however, the hero appeared without summons, for no one knew of any cataclysms that required reparations. Yet it was not long before the champion was again facing great evil, this time in the form of an insidious organization called The Fellowship that had insinuated itself into Britannian society. In addition, a magical island, once home to the very Exodus of the Third Age of Darkness, had risen to the surface, indicating a further threat to Britannia. During this seventh period of service, the champion was able to uncover the dastardly plot of The Fellowship and remove the evil presence forming on the island.

There is nothing more known about the history of this unusual land, for Vardion has had no contact with his grandmother for some time now and Mythran remembers no more stories. Yet Vardion remains confident of the existence of this world of Britannia, and that its presence is related to his grandmother's alleged disappearance.



Named the City of Eternal Twilight, Tenebrae is the only community excluding the various groups of spellcasters - known still to exist on Morgaelin. It was first built ages ago by our Zealan ancestors, who were forced out during the ancient wars. Despite its heritage, many of the edifices are new, having been reconstructed in recent years.

In the central part of the city is the Great Palace, home and court of the reigning Lady. From there she rules with a firm hand, keeping the peace via her very real threat of sending criminals to a watery grave.

This crag that overlooks the city supports a small hut, home to the mysterious Mythran. Covered with a few groves of trees, the area is remarkably nondescript, and Mythran has done little to change the flora and fauna other than construct his unusual abode. It is said that this is where to find information no others could possibly know.

Vengeance Bay
This area is beyond the reach of those without the means to cross the seas in safety - a rare thing in these times. The bay was the site of the last and greatest true battle between the Zealans and the Pagans, who won by calling upon Hydros to pull the Zealan leader's ship under the sea. To further the show of power, Hydros spat the ship back up, cursing all on board to eternal slavery as part of her undead legion.

The cemetery is where the dead are interred and then sent to Lithos. It is also home not only to the Necromancer and her Apprentice, but to dozens of the Mountain King's servants. Even before reaching the cemetery, the stench of death becomes overpowering, and many ghouls and skeletons are visible from the gates. Very few are brave or foolish enough to enter the graveyard to speak with the Necromancer, and usually only the Apprentice travels into the city for supplies.

Hall of the Mountain King
Located at the base of the mountain at Stone Cove, the Hall of the Mountain King is, indeed, where the Necromancers may go to speak with Lithos. In fact, only those with the powers of a Necromancer or Apprentice are able to enter, for the seemingly inoperable stone door stops all others.

Argentrock Isle
This small islet, reached only by a bridge, is home to the monastery of the Order of Enlightenment. There the Theurgists have the opportunity to attend to their studies in the peace and quiet necessary to achieve Enlightenment and Purity. Those Theurgists who learn well the lessons of Stratos are permitted to visit Windy Point, where a truly pure Adept might hope to hear the Mystic Voice.

Sorcerer's Enclave
Among the most dark-some places in Pagan is the treacherous territory known as Sorcerer's Enclave. There the Mages of Fire perform unknown and possibly horrific magics, as they consort with their patron Titan, Pyros. Fortunately, the area is quite secluded, as a boiling lake of fire surrounds the collection of buildings, making it impossible for those who are not members of the sorcerous cabal to traverse.


Ruler and Tempest of Tenebrae, our Lady Mordea governs with strict attention to detail. Her right of rule was inherited from her Tempest father, Keldan, and noble mother, Celidia - both royalty and real power support her claim to rulership. Our Lady is extremely aware of her position, accepting only the utmost in loyalty from her subjects.

Lothian and Vividos
Lothian is the strong and stoic Necromancer, quite competent in her abilities to convey the deceased to Lithos. She has little opportunity to converse with the citizens of nearby Tenebrae; her work keeps her so tremendously occupied. The townspeople are, however, friendly to her new Apprentice, Vividos. His vivacious personality is a good complement to Lothian's, making it easy for him to deal with the world outside the distasteful realm of the cemetery.

Stellos is a wise and kind man for whom the term elderly is more a measure of appearance than chronology, for his dealings with Stratos have left him immortal. Ever concerned for the welfare of others, he is perfectly suited for his role as instructor at the Order of Enlightenment. The only man alive from our tumultuous past, Stellos is a still-breathing legend who matches perfectly the stories of his heroic encounter in the realm of Air.

Few know much about Malchir, the Master Sorcerer, and those who know anything at all are his fellow followers of fire. It is said he is a dark man, but no one knows whether his bitterness led him to, or is a result of, his status. There are those who speculate he bears a greater resemblance to the Daemons he commands than to normal men.

Master of Thaumaturgy, Mythran, is a quirky, peculiar man. Many give witness to his abilities with magic, yet none can draw a connection between his powers and those of any of the other spellcasters. There seems little that he does not know or cannot find out, and many have made their way to his home atop the plateau to glean what they can from his wisdom. He speaks as though there were other Thaumaturges, but I have heard naught of them elsewhere.

Those who have seen it say his house is quite unusual. Only a small hovel on the outside, his home is considerably larger within. Rumors claim that the entire second story is devoted to his research and experiments, and considering his vast wealth of knowledge, there seems no reason for doubt.


During the Third Epoch, after the Age of the Necromancers passed and Tempests came to rule, the Pagans learned the value of coins - namely that a universal currency saved wear and tear on the feet. Much deliberation went on as to what should best represent this abstract item of value. Some wanted the trappings of precious metals, but decided such was too valuable for crafts and weaponry to waste on coinage. Others thought that objects from the sea, such as oysters, clams and starfish, would best honor the Tempest rulers. Conversely, proponents of toraxen hides argued that it would be sacrilege to remove such sea belongings from the domain of Hydros.

Finally, the people agreed upon shaped and stamped obsidian chips. Obsidian is no longer used for other objects, it comes from the ground, honoring earth, and can be imprinted with the icons of the other Titans to show deference to them as well. Moreover, it is possible to confine to government agencies the technology for heating raw obsidian and molding the ore into chips. Thus they can enforce a necessary, though arbitrary, value within city walls.

Those who cannot or will not craft for themselves use these obsidian chips throughout the city as legitimate exchange for goods and services. Since there are not many merchants in town, I have taken the liberty of compiling a list of the few types of goods offered to the general public. Fresh fish and vegetables can be purchased at the tavern. The weaver produces fine apparel that is both functional and comfortable. Exquisite jewelry can be purchased from the jeweler, who also produces some glassware. Quality refreshment is available at the tavern, where herdsmen bring torax chops and kith fillets. Finally, several of the craftsmen about town are likely to sell tools of their various trades.


As any member of the militia is sure to admit, finding good weapons and armor is extremely important. Even though the Zealan raids ended some time ago, there is always need for arms to protect against the wilds of nature. The weaponsmith forges and sells all sorts of swords, axes, maces and hammers, in addition to a wide assortment of armor and shields. However, being a metalworker, the smith rarely sells lighter forms of protection. Fortunately for those who have taken an oath to police and protect the city, the current captain of the guard crafts armor from toraxen hides, and has been known to offer his wares for sale upon request.



Although they are large, multicolored quadrupeds, kith bear a remarkable resemblance to the common insect. The major difference between the kith and what some consider to be their smaller cousins is size. At full maturity, a kith's head easily reaches the waist of a man. A few may grow even larger.

Being omnivorous by nature, kith tend to live on the various plant life found throughout the land, though they prefer denser flora. Domestic kith are de-venomed and de-fanged at birth, feral kith are far more dangerous, often rearing up on their abdomens to strike with poisoned fangs.

Kith excretions come in the form of silky strands, which are woven together to make fine clothing and linens. The finer weaves of kith silk make excellent canvases, for the paints adhere well to the fibrous material. In addition, the meat taken from the kith's abdomen and thorax is quite tasty, and many herdsmen raise kith solely for the sustenance they provide.

Large, slow reptiles, toraxen are the staple of the herdsman's stock. They are usually brown in color, though some have dark brown or dark gray spots. Their heads are broad and flat, filled more with bone and muscle than brain. Half as tall as a man and usually docile, the torax is particularly strong for its size, often able to knock down trees in one angry charge. Setting its head down, the torax charges victims and then snaps with its bone-crushing jaws. Their tough hide is thickest around the legs and back, making them especially difficult to damage in these areas.

The tremendous strength of a torax makes it an excellent dray beast; able to carry great loads for a long amount of time. In addition, their thick skin makes excellent leather, which is usable as clothing, armor and even temporary shelters. Torax meat is a staple food, whether served fresh as chops or dried as jerky.


Changelings are, indeed, a curious species. As they are shapeshifters, it is difficult to describe their true form. However, there is one shape that is apparently available to all changelings - or at least in all of those encountered thus far. In that form, they appear much like short, disfigured and disproportioned men. The changelings' movements seem jerky and erratic, yet the creatures seem to be in control of their actions.

In battle, the changeling assumes the shapes of its opponent or flora! In these forms, the changeling has the strengths and abilities of these other creatures, including any toxins they might be able to employ. In what must be assumed is its natural form, the changeling bounces about the area and then suddenly leaps at its opponent with it huge tooth-filled maw opened widely. No one has had the opportunity to learn exactly what it is that allows a changeling to shapeshift or what makes it act as it does, for it fights viciously to the death. Moreover, the creature disappears when it dies, making study impossible.

Trolls are large, lumbering bipedal creatures, standing half again as tall as a man. Their skin color ranges from a pale green to an olive or tan, and they wear little in the way of clothing. Trolls move quite slowly, as if they must first decide where to place each foot before taking a step - though anyone who has watched a troll move through a small community, stepping on whatever is underfoot, knows better than to think a troll is careful. There are those who speculate that trolls are the offshoot of an ancient tribe of particularly evil and stupid Zealans, though none of the ancient tomes in Tenebrae support that theory.

Trolls fight poorly, being so slow and bulky. However, their solid strength means certain death for most who are careless enough to be struck. All trolls use clubs, usually pulled from dead vegetation, though even their powerful fists are enough to deliver a tremendous blow.

The seeker is nothing more than an abomination of nature. One large eye floats about connected to a huge, snapping mouth via a thick red membrane. It is hoped that this creature is the result of a magical concoction, but others claim that seekers are the living remains of the Destroyer, as foretold by the one who called himself the Guardian.

The seeker seems to be neither herbivore nor carnivore - no one has ever seen it eat. The creature simply hovers about until it sights a target and then launches into a furious assault of gnashing teeth. Yet no scholar has ever been able to explain the seeker's sole purpose of wanton destruction. It does not eat, and yet nothing eats it. Even in death the seeker mocks other life, exploding into a myriad of sharp bone and cartilage that can be fatal to those caught within the radius of its devastating blast.


Aerial Servant
Many people who die before they finish important tasks become spirits bound to the welfare of others. Unlike ghosts, for whom the Titans have no use, aerial servants function as messengers and assistants to Stratos. Moreover, aerial servants do not possess the same dark gray appearance of their counterparts, the ghosts, seeming instead to be made up of simple currents of air.

Aerial servants do not attack others, whether they are living or otherwise. However, they are usually loyal to the Theurgists who summon them, obeying their commands to the best of their abilities. Some say that aerial servants can affect the objects they touch, temporarily changing the objects into air currents as well. This way, the aerial servant is able to transport otherwise solid objects through the smallest wall chinks and such.

Those consumed by flame, either in life or death, or are slain by another Daemon, become servants and warriors for the Lord of Flame and his followers. Daemons are bipedal creatures with mottled and scaly skin, sporting sharp claws and talons. Atop their heads are two horns, while coarse brown fur covers their legs.

These hideous beasts are terrible tools of destruction. With their powerful arms and sharp fangs and claws, they rend their victims with razor-like ability. According to the few witnesses who have seen a Daemon attack, the victims scream of the burning pain that comes from each strike, and legend maintains that Daemons can even hurl destructive balls of flame. As fire is their primary tool, Daemons seem immune to the effects of flame themselves, and their thick scales make them nearly impervious to the common blade.

Ghosts, also known as wraiths, are the disembodied spirits of those who died so tragically that even the Titans have no use for them. They appear as twisted shapes of gray floating above the ground. Tied to the general location of their demise, ghosts rarely travel far in search of victims. They consume life forces to give them strength. Ghosts have complete control over their visibility, often remaining invisible until prey is near enough to scare.

Feeding on the spirits of the living, wraiths attack with a draining touch that leaves the victim weak of body and will. Armor is useless against their attack, and weapons without some sort of enchantment cannot hurt them. Legend claims that some of the Necromantic magics may affect a ghost, but I doubt there is any evidence to support the supposition. Note that a ghost's non-corporeal nature permits it to access many areas sealed to ordinary folk.

Ghouls are the animated corpses of the recently dead. Wearing nothing more than the clothing in which they were interred, ghouls - or zombies are extremely slow in both thought and action. Unlike skeleton warriors, the ghouls' function is far less oriented towards combat, and they begin their service as soon as they make their way to the Mountain King's domain.

However, when sacred areas such as the cemetery are disturbed, ghouls are there to confront the trespasser. Fortunately for the perpetrator, movement for ghouls is extremely difficult and painful, rendering them poor combatants. An ironic twist to the ghouls' nature is that they consume the flesh of their prey, thus making it impossible for the victims ever to reach Lithos and serve him.

Minion of the Lurker
The Tempests tell us that those whose bodies fall dead in the water, whether by drowning or other means, tragically face service not with l,ithos, but with Hydros, the Lurker. Little is known about the vile minions, for they do not walk upon the land and no one has dared to enter the Lurker's domain to view them up close. The few glimpses that have been seen reveal a large, fish-like head filled with a row of sharp teeth. It is assumed that the transformation into this disgusting beast takes some time, though how much is unknown.

There is no record of anyone surviving a direct encounter in the water with a minion, though some of the fishing folk have managed to avoid the creatures by remaining in their boats. It is unknown whether minion victims are consumed or dragged deep below the waves to become minions themselves.

Skeleton Warrior
The remains of warriors from ages past, skeletons are the servants of Lithos and the Necromancers who follow him. Their body and spirits, passed to the Mountain King during interment, are held in waiting until needed. However, they still carry with them the accouterments of their fighting days: axes, swords, shields, armor and so forth.

Though dead, these animated skeletons are extremely agile and strong, often felling a man before he can even strike. They are brainless, yet seem to retain much of the fighting skill they possessed in life. Skeletons attack only with their ancient weapons, which are oft times filthy with disease-ridden decay. As they are already dead and serve only a single function, skeleton warriors attack relentlessly until destroyed.


Compiling this information took considerably more effort than I expected. The project began at first as idle curiosity - I merely wanted to know more about spellcasting. I contacted the leader of each of the four types of magic - Necromancy, Tempestry, Theurgy and Sorcery and requested that they convey what information they could to me. The Theurgists and Necromancer complied readily. The Tempest responded via her seneschal, who informed me that Our Lady Mordea was occupied with too many "important" matters to concern herself with my trivia. Equally frustrating, the Master Sorcerer was quite reluctant to reveal much about spells of Fire, only sending what he did after becoming completely assured I was up to no nefarious plotting.

Fortunately, Mythran knows quite a lot about magic and spells, as I suspected, and was extremely helpful in filling in the gaps left by Lady Mordea and Malchir. Indeed, I learned from Mythran that he, himself, has acquired the ability to cast snippets of the other types of magic. Though I do not mistrust his words, I do think it strange that he mentions reagents for his spells the likes of which I have never seen. Nevertheless what follows is Mythran's explanation of magic in his own words.

by Mythran the Thaumaturge

My years of research in the field of magic have led me to the
conclusion that all magic is simply the manifestation of a
being's will, superimposed upon reality, through the means of
etheric emanations. Furthermore, I propose that such
emanations are truly limited only by the imagination and
willpower of the entity in question.

Certain rituals and words can assist the caster in visualizing
the desired effect, just as certain physical objects can lend
power, stability and shape to the caster's will. These props
are not always necessary for beings of considerable power or
intellect, but are useful for most spellcasters.

Following is a detailed analysis of the styles of spellcrafting
that I have been able to observe in this world - Necromancy,
the rituals of death; Tempestry, the power of the Water and
storms; Theurgy, the discipline of attuning the spirit; Sorcery,
the craft of destruction; and what I call Thaumaturgy, my
personal study of magic.

All spells, save the seemingly innate abilities of the Tempests,
require a ritual of some sort before casting. The rituals, or
props as I called them earlier, are each of varying duration,
and sometimes are performed long before the actual spell is
cast. In addition, the rituals all require from one to three of
the following components: spell books, foci or reagents.

Effectively, spell books are used as sources for spell
formulae. These books describe the rituals, foci or reagents
necessary to cast the spells, as well as explaining the results
of success and, sometimes, the results of failure.

Foci are material items used to bind and release magical
energy. Sometimes they do nothing more than enhance the
caster's ability to concentrate, that is, focus on his or her
spell. Other foci store the energy in the form of charges,
allowing the caster to prepare much of the spell beforehand
and then II simply release the energy when necessary. At the
very least, foci serve to channel the etheric waves into usable

Finally, reagents are the disposable components of casting.
They are natural materials consumed when the spell is cast.
Sometimes the spell caster scatters the reagents about the
affected area, while other times they are simply mixed
together in precise proportions.


Within all living things is a magical energy or life-force.
However, once the life has passed from a body, a byproduct of
the life-force, emitted as etheric waves, remains inside.
Lithos, the Titan of Earth, imbues those of his choice with the
insight and fortitude to have some power over death and

The focus of a Necromantic spell is a small pouch filled with
the reagents required to cast the spell. These reagents are
easily obtainable as they are bits and pieces of the land and of
those who once lived upon it.

Blood (Summoning/Communication) - The essence of life, reft from
the body, serves as a reminder of mortality.

Bone (Summoning/Communication) - The source of blood is also,
strangely enough, the source of the will, and remembers the life
it once embraced.

Wood (Preservation/Binding) - Almost ageless, a time-aided tree
can be stronger than the hardest rock.

Dirt (Protection) - The plant grows from the womb of the
land, its roots deeply embedded in the safety of soil.

Executioner's Hood (Death) - This fungus is black in hue, dark in
purpose and shaped like the head-covering of its namesake.

Blackmoor (Power) - This is an odd mixture of the element
of Earth and the mysterious Blackrock.

Mask of Death (Quas Corp)
By this ritual, the Necromancer may assume a state of near-
death that will appear as actual death. The Necromancer is
completely cognizant, and can dispel the effects at any time.
Reagents: Wood, Executioner's Hood

Call Quake (Kal Vas Ylem Por)
This ritual causes the very earth to rise up and heave.
Reagents: Blood, Bone, Wood, Blackmoor

Death Speak (Kal Wis Corp)
This ritual briefly returns a semblance of life to a deceased
body and allows the Necromancer to converse with the spirit
of the once living. However, if the being has not undergone
certain preparations before death, this spell is quite a painful
experience, usually rendering the subject incoherent.
Reagents: Blood, Bone

Rock Flesh (Rel Sanct Ylem)
With this ritual, the Necromancer gains an innate resistance
to damage by transforming the very flesh into a substance as
strong as stone.
Reagents: Wood, Dirt

Summon Dead (Kal Corp Xen)
This spell summons from the Earth a number of dead
warriors to serve the Necromancer as guardians. They are
mindless, attacking anyone not endowed with the power of
Necromancy. Though it is possible to summon armies of the
walking dead, I have never seen more than one appear.
Reagents: Blood, Bone, Wood

Open Ground (Des Por Ylem)
When cast near a tombstone, this ritual, under the guidance
of a Necromancer, shapes the ground and stone. Most often,
however, it is merely used to create a grave or open a
weakened wall of rock.
Reagents: Blood, Blackmoor

Create Golem (In Ort Ylem Xen)
This spell calls up a creature made of Earth, generally in the
shape of a man, to perform the bidding of the caster. It
follows a few terse commands, usually understanding
statements to retrieve or open things.
Reagents: Blood, Bone, Wood, Dirt, Blackmoor

Withstand Death (Vas An Corp)
By means of this preparation ritual, the Necromancer returns
from death once (and only once), with all ailments removed
and in full health.
Reagents: Wood, Dirt, Blackmoor

Grant Peace (In Vas Corp)
This potent ritual calls upon the bailiwick of the
Necromancer, that being death. The recipient, if the undead
of Earth, instantly reverts to the lifeless corpse it was before
becoming animated. If cast upon the fully living, the life
force of the recipient is momentarily severed from the body,
often resulting in death, but in some instances, causing only
temporary confusion.
Reagents: Executioner's Hood, Blackmoor


This power is purely and simply the ability to control the
Water and storms. It is an inherited trait, and therefore little
is known about it. We do know some of' the powers displayed
to date by the ruling nobility of Tenebrae. Since I do not
know the actual names of the powers, I will merely list what I
have observed.

I have seen a trained Tempest walk upon the Water as if upon
dry land, breathe Water as easily as Air, create and calm
windy storms, still the turbulent seas, cause clouds to skid
across the sky with preternatural agility, and send great bolts
of lightning to strike those deemed unworthy of life.

Note that the Tempest requires no components, foci or
magical incantations, as all etheric waves are amplified and
channeled by Hydros, the Titan of Water.


The Order of Enlightenment from which issued this magical
discipline believes that to purify oneself and focus the inner
energies of the mind eliminates the need to find power in the
world around. Therefore these mages require no reagents of
any sort.

However, in the process of becoming attuned to Stratos, the
Titan of Air, small silver tokens representing the spells
become necessary. These tokens are the doorways to power
for the Novice, unlocked by words of magic. Once a monk
has become an Adept, achieved "enlightenment," and then
continued studies for several more years, he or she will find
the foci no longer required and that the power flows from the
mind of the Theurgist unimpeded by physical restraints.

Divination (In Wis)
This invocation reveals the Theurgist's location, time of day,
day of the week, and current month.
Focus: Sextant

Healing Touch (In Mani)
This is a healing spell, affecting minor wounds.
Focus: Pointing Hand

Aerial Servant (Kal Ort Xem)
This spell calls a whirling being of Air, which will accept the
Theurgist's directives to manipulate or move any object. An
unusual ability of this creature is that it is able to move an
object through solid obstacles, such as walls and closed doors.
Focus: Arm Band

Reveal (Ort Lor)
This spell releases a wave of energy that dispels all forms of
invisibility around the Theurgist.
Focus: Open Eye

Restoration (Vas In Mani)
This is a powerful invocation. It restores a living recipient to
full health, eliminating wounds, maiming or disease.
Focus: Open Hand

Fade from Sight (Quas An Lor)
As the name of this invocation states, the Theurgist becomes
completely invisible to the sight of nearly all mortal beings.
Focus: Closed Eye

Air Walk (Vas Hur Por)
By means of this invocation, the Theurgist is capable of
jumping a great distance with the aid of the surrounding Air.
I am told that this is cast the first time without a focus, when
the Theurgist leaps to Windy Point to speak with Stratos.
Focus: Wings

Hear Truth (An Quas Lor)
This invocation reveals the truth to any lie spoken knowingly
to the Theurgist, as if the Air, itself, were unraveling the
thread of the message.
Focus: Chain

Intervention (In Sanct An Jux)
One of the most powerful abilities of the Theurgist is to call
into existence a wall of air that blocks all damaging forces.
While this spell can make the mightiest sword blow feel like a
tap, it will not prevent death from immersion in lava or
drowning in Water.
Focus: Fist

Resurrection (Vas An Corp)
The most powerful ability of the Order of Enlightenment is
the ability to restore life to the recently departed. However,
the price for this ability is eternal blindness. I am sure there
must be an easier way, but my research has yielded nothing
Focus: None but blindness and eternal life


Sorcerers deal in magic of Fire and destruction, having long
ago founded the Cabal that bound Pyros, the Titan of Fire, to
their wills. In doing so, they also garnered the ability to call
upon his servants, the Daemons.

In the performance of Sorcery, one must use rituals, reagents,
foci, magical words and a specially designed protective circle,
called a pentacle or pentagram for the five-pointed star
confined within. The tremendous powers of Pyros are
released in great gouts of flame, and only a trained Sorcerer
would dare to call upon them. Even then, the pentacle is
required to keep the Sorcerer from being consumed along
with the reagents.

The Sorcerer places the spell's focus at the pentagram I s
center, the candles at each point around the circle, and the
reagents near the candles, all while intoning the mystic words
to shape the unbound energies. When this ritual enchantment
is done, the Sorcerer is left with a charged (even multiply
charged), glowing focus, suffused with the power of the spell
invoked. The spell can then be cast at any time.

Volcanic Ash (Flame) - The refuse of the volcano has
the property of creating the initial spark of Fire.

Pumice (Distance) - This rock, cast highest and farthest
from the volcano, retains the etheric impetus built up
in the flight.

Obsidian (Duration) - While seeming to be a fragile, easily
broken substance, it endures the heat of the volcano.

Pig Iron (Protection) - Iron's hard yet versatile nature works
in protective Sorcery as no other reagent can.

Brimstone (Power) - This is the rock that burns or, more
to the point in Sorcery, explodes. A virtually limitless source
of power dwells within its etheric composition.

Daemon Bone (Summoning/Binding) - Having taken a hint from the
Necromancers,the Cabal found that Bone does, indeed, retain
its tie to life. It is even useful in the ritual of binding
when enough power is at hand. Daemonic forces are summoned and
controlled by use of this reagent.

Extinguish (An Flam)
This spell douses any flame, save the very hottest.
Foci: Symbol, Wand, Rod or Staff

Ignite (In Flam)
This spell lights the red and black candles placed around the
Foci: Symbol, Wand, Rod or Staff

Flash (Flam Por)
By means of this spell, the Sorcerer can move from one
visible place to another without actually traversing the
intervening space. After many years of practice, a Sorcerer
can even move to places visible not only to the eye, but to
memory as well.
Foci: Wand, Rod, Staff or Symbol*

Flame Bolt (In Ort Flam)
This spell shoots a bolt of fire from the caster, burning
anything unlucky enough to be the target of the Sorcerer's ire.
Foci: Wand, Rod, Staff or Symbol*

Endure Heat (Sanct Flam)
This spell creates a glowing field that allows the Sorcerer to
touch any non-magical flame and remain unhurt. With this
spell, a Sorcerer can even endure the heat of lava if it is solid
enough to walk upon.
Foci: Rod, Staff or Symbol*

Fire Shield (In Flam An Por)
With this spell, flames come into existence encircling the
Sorcerer. No tangible creature except a Daemon can pass
through this flaming barrier, including the Sorcerer. Anyone
foolish enough to try is thrown back and burned in the
Foci: Rod, Staff or Symbol*

Armor Of Flames (Vas Sanct Flam)
This spell bathes the Sorcerer in a corona of magical flames
that ward off all other Fires of magical nature, including
those cast by another Sorcerer.
Foci: Rod, Staff or Symbol*

Create Fire (In Flam Ylem)
At the casting of this spell, a fire erupts around the target.
Those who are foolish enough to remain in the blaze will
continue to suffer damage until they step out of the flames.
Foci: Staff or Symbol*

Explosion (Vas Ort Flam)
This is much like the Flame Bolt spell, but with considerably
larger and more devastating effects.
Foci: Staff or Symbol*

Summon Daemon (Kai Flam Corp Xen)
This ritual of binding will summon a Daemon to attack one
foe of the Sorcerer's designation. The dangerous nature of
this spell lies in the fact that if no victim is specified as soon
as the creature appears, the Daemon will attack the Sorcerer.
Foci: Daemon Talisman or Symbol*

Banish Daemon (An Flam Corp Xen)
As the name so plainly states, this spell will usually return a
Daemon to its home in the Fire of the volcano.
Unfortunately, even the most skilled Sorcerers have been
known to perform an unsuccessful banishment.
Foci: Daemon Talisman or Symbol*

Conflagration (Kai Vas Flam Corp Xen)
This is the most powerful ritual that the Sorcerer's Cabal has
revealed. If any greater exists, only they know about it. By
use of this spell, a malicious, Daemonic force of destructive
nature manifests near the caster, where it then commences to
wreak savage destruction on all things near the Sorcerer.
Foci: Daemon Talisman or Symbol*

*Note: As it is not the most stable focus for these spells, the
Sorcerer's symbol of the pentagram will be able to retain only
one charge.


Thaumaturgy is the term I use to define the collection of
spells that I have learned over time. Put quite simply,
Thaumaturgy borrows and steals a bit from each of the other
magics, choosing the clear path of chaos rather than
becoming too well defined and stagnant. Much like
Sorcerers, I enchant items with the power of reagents and the

Any Thaumaturge who knows the business may craft spells,
scrolls, potions or various other implements of magic. There
is almost nothing that I cannot do through the use of this
form of magic, as it does not confine itself to a style.

In Thaumaturgy, the foci are the actual spell books that
contain the formulae and references to the reagents required
for the spell. In addition, enchanted, single-use scrolls that
require no other components can also be used to cast spells.
Most of the spells from the other forms of magic can be
distilled to their basics and put into scrolls and books as well -
by a Thaumaturge of sufficient skill, that is.

These unusual reagents are used in combination with those
from other disciplines.

Eye of Newt (Sight/ Knowledge) - This aids a mage in focusing the
inner eye within the mind.

Bat Wing (Life/ Creatures) - The flesh, bone and blood found
in this structure serve as an excellent lodestone to the
essence of life.

Serpent Scale (Destruction/ Separation) - The poison in the
mouth of this beast seeps into the flesh and
corrupts the scales, giving them the magical ability to act as a
destructor of bonds.

Dragon Blood (Great Power) - So powerful is this creature that
the blood burns as if aflame. Precise measurements of this
are wise, for too much and the magic will go dangerously awry.

Confusion Blast (In Quas Wis)
This causes a release of etheric energies, inflicting no real
physical damage, but causing all combatants near the
Thaumaturge to forget completely the present combat.
Reagents: Eye of Newt, Bat Wing, Serpent Scale, Obsidian,

Summon Creature (Kal Xen)
This highly variable spell magically calls a creature to the
Thaumaturge's defense. The type of creature that appears is
not automatically under the control of the caster, depending
upon creature's vicinity and the caster's power.
Reagents: Bat Wing, Pumice, Obsidian, Bone

Call Destruction (Kai Vas Grav Por)
This spell causes bolts of lightning and destructive explosions
to cascade around the Thaumaturge, unerringly striking any
visible foes.
Reagents: Serpent Scale, Dragon Blood, Ash, Pig Iron,
Executioner's Hood

Devastation (In Vas Ort Corp)
This spell, first formulated by what could only have been an
insane mage, is designed to disrupt the very fabric of life
throughout the world. All creatures and beings, save the
crazed Thaumaturge who casts this spell, face instant
eradication. As far as I can tell, there has never been a
successful casting of this spell.
Reagents: Bat Wing, Serpent Scale, Dragon Blood, Pig
Iron, Executioner's Hood, Blackmoor, Brimstone

Meteor Shower (Kal Des Flam Flem)
Rocks, summoned from unseen heights, cascade in a fiery
torrent upon friends and foes alike - only the caster remains
Reagents: Ash, Dirt, Serpent Scale, Brimstone, Blackmoor


Though I had initially intended this work to act as a grand reference for future scholars, I realize now that much of this is too inconsequential for such a treatise. It is the result of my fascination with people of the present as well as the past. To those students who cannot use the dated words within this text, I hope at least that I have provided a little insight to the times as they are now, so that historical essays compiled long after I have gone to serve the Mountain King may benefit from these idle observations. To the sages of the next generations, I offer my salutations and best wishes. This, my small gift of knowledge, is the greatest offering I can give.

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