April 9th

As the son of a fisherman in Wistick, Valgard, Easmer Osland spent much of his time under the sun. He began working on the boat with his father at a young age, and it appeared it would be his career as well. Instead, as the others considered the fathoms below, he seemed to find his gaze going upwards. The winds were unpredictable, the fish could be anywhere, it could be clear or cloudy… but the sun followed a pattern, and that pattern never changed from one year to the next. On the waters of the Sunken Bay, it burned his eyes, and it burned his skin, and somehow that felt right to him. The sun was powerful, and it did not apologize or make considerations for it. It was the single most predictable and powerful thing that a young boy knew, and he yearned to be a part of it.

His parents had many mouths to feed anyway, so they were not opposed to seeing if he would be accepted as a young acolyte. They did have to travel to Borden, but his father was able to make arrangements. The temple of Calor was happy to take Easmer as he showed signs of possibly becoming a great cleric. He said his farewells to his family, and began a new life in worship of the Calor.

After a few years, it became apparent that while Easmer was unquestionably devoted to Calor and very capable, he was more suited to a natural setting than the life in a temple. Druids, unlike most priests, are trained by a single master. The temple made contact with a druid in Seliven named Frepier, and he was willing to take on another apprentice. Saying goodbye once again, Easmer boarded a ship and was met on the docks of Seafield by his new teacher as well as a fellow apprentice, a slightly younger boy named Pargon Verris, who would eventually become like a brother to him.

There is no doubt that Easmer missed his family, and he even missed the temple and the friends he made in Borden, but roaming the lands with Frepier and Pargon and learning about the incredible power of the sun was truly his calling. He belonged here so firmly he could not imagine another life. Soon he could say exactly where the sun would be given simply the day of year and time of day. It began as mathematics, but the answers were burned into his soul.

The years passed, and Pargon and Easmer were eventually druids in their own rights, no longer apprentices. Frepier suggested they travel north to find their own ranges. Naturally, they kept somewhat close together, but they found places that were in need of the teachings of ultimate power in the lands between the Borden Empire and Orroland. In time, they were accepted by several smaller communities, and it was clear that this is where they would make their new homes. But first, Easmer felt the need to visit his parents as he had not seen them in many years. Pargon decided to go with him, and they set off for Wistick. He learned sad news… his father had gone blind. His mother cared for him, and his brother Dregpin had taken over the business. It was a bittersweet reunion. His father could no longer see the blessings of Calor, and the horror broke Easmer’s heart. They spent a month visiting, and during that time his mother had a plan for her dear son. She could not protect him when he lived so far away, and she aimed to fix that. She went to the local armorer and tailor. It took all of her savings, but she paid for a yellow layered leather armor, embossed with the six pointed sun, and a grey cloak. When Easmer tried it on, he could see the imagery created. He looked like the sun coming through dark clouds. Not to let Pargon leave empty handed, she had white and yellow robes made for him. Though it was a little ostentatious for them, they decided it certainly wouldn’t hurt to make other people consider Calor more frequently. Easmer would come to love this armor, and would even have it upgraded and enhanced over time when he could afford it.

Things were going well for the two druids. It is rare that one gets to so perfectly answer the call they are given. Each day they basked in the glory of Calor, and they survived each day because they themselves were strong. The weak burned and died, but the strong lived on. Each day is a glorious trial.

Eventually they took on their own apprentices. With their help, they created a stone henge, one to mark the positions of Calor through the year. At the center was an altar. It was mostly used for simple ceremonies, but every so often a goat was sacrificed to honor the strength and order of Calor. In time their apprentices went their own ways.

Then, the undead came. First it was phantasms, but then they took real form. Skeletons fought battles from long ago, and vampires hunted silently through the trees each night. They fought the undead with the power of Calor at every opportunity. They called back their apprentices to form a united group, and they even enlisted the help of rangers familiar with the glory of Calor. Together they opposed the undead, but it felt they were slowly losing the battle. Had Calor forsaken them?

Then the plague began. It was slow at first, but it was clear nothing could stop it. Priests could slow it, but nothing could cure it. They tried burning away the disease in the sun, but it took more heat than the diseased could survive. There is nothing wrong with thinning the herd, but this struck the weak and strong alike, and it seemed none would survive.

It was clear that Calor was punishing them in some way. They sacrificed several goats and even a prize bull in his name, but it had very little effect. Then, one overcast day, Pargon came to him with a whisper of a thought… an old rite. They had both learned about it, but it was simply not done anymore. It was terrible to even consider, but what can be more noble a sacrifice than the innocent youth? They spoke on it for several days, and eventually they even brought it to their former apprentices and the rangers. These are people that would murder a man to make a point, but they all objected to sacrificing children… until the rites and the consequences of not doing so were explained. To skip the rite would be the end of all life on Abril. None will survive, and it will be another realm of the dead. However, if two children are offered to Calor at the moment when night balances day and he begins to overtake the darkness, the plague and undead can be seared away. For the children chosen, they would be presented unto Calor in all of his glory. They would take in the fullness of the god himself upon their entry into the next life. What greater gift could there be? Soon, all agreed… it was a vile deed, but it must be done. The order of death has been violated, and only a true sacrifice could correct it.

After making subtle inquiries, Easmer finally learned of a man named Gilbert who could sell people. He introduced himself as Gorsivex, and explained that he would need a boy and a girl, orphans, and not local. He could not bear the thought of meeting parents or even grandparents or other relatives knowing he had sacrificed their children, but orphans are already doomed to a terrible life. These children, looking forward to a life of misery, could meet a god. When he told himself that, he could go forward with the plan.

Gilbert was disturbingly quick in finding such children. Easmer picked them up and brought them to their holy stone henge. He tried to keep them comfortable, but it was clear the children were frightened and would probably run away.

Days past, and they began gathering all the other necessities for the ancient rite. Then, they saw a party of adventurers approaching along the trail. Easmer knew exactly why they were there. There was no need for words… they would simply not understand. It was battle, and while Easmer fought hard to slay those who would stop this rite, somewhere in his heart he did not want to win. As they drew ever and ever closer, he came to realize that victory was not to be theirs this day. He did not flee nor attempt to surrender, for whether by plague or sword, the loss here meant death was assured. He knew Pargon and the others felt the same.

It was 13th of Spring’s Rise at 2:30 in the afternoon. He looked to the sun as he fell.



The party found Pilsa and Bortin held in a wooden cage. They released them, and then the ghost of Hilliam Grosser managed to make them understand some, but not all, of what had happened. In short, the party agreed to take them to Hilliam’s parents back in Port Hemstin. It was a bit of a sad ride with a ghost trying to be a father to small children, but it seems the kids had been through so much they were too exhausted to be horrified. Once in Port Hemstin and safetly in the arms of Orta and Harold Grosser, and the situation explained the them, the kids seemed to be able to relax. Hilliam dispersed peacefully into the realm of the dead. Their mission completed, the party headed immediately for Monksdown.

Clearly, the town of Monksdown was once an abbey sitting atop a hill. The abbey consisted of several builds and a wall all of yellow stone. The town had grown beyond that with several different stones and even wood. The party elected to stay at the only inn, which was The Abbey. Francis Warren II attempted to gather information about going down to various young ladies, but they misunderstood him. A young blonde woman named Corlinda was very excited to help him go down in Monksdown, and so they found the barn. Meanwhile, the others located a cellar under the Abbey, but it didn’t seem right. They kept searching, and they eventually made their way to the Lost Monkey Tavern. There, a bard mentioned there were crypts under the town, supposedly with an entrance somewhere to the southwest. Livid searched for a trail, and they eventually came to two large, stone doors marked with a three pronged shuriken.

Making their way inside, they found skeletons that were once monks. They seemed to retain some of the abilities they had in life. Still, days before the scheduled meeting, only these skeletal monks were present, making the battle nearly trivial. Past them, they found what could be a meeting place. There was a desk and some chairs. There were also 9 mummified monks laid out on stone slabs. They did not move, but the party bravely burned them anyway.

It is the 6th of Spring’s Breadth. Visitors of some kind are expected on the 20th. This is based on papers found in the lair of Rumen Lel in which Ulric Cowan expressed interest in meeting with Rumen and Ozur Gresk to discuss a problem with dragons. There were no other named, but they did reference "The Coven."

Nothing? I mean, it was a condensed biography so I'm sure it didn't flow so well, but the intent was to show that "evil" is not necessarily "I want ultimate power to destroy everything beautiful!!" The backstory is meaningless, of course, but it ends with them deciding to kill some kids, so there's no question of evil.

Like...Evil Lite? Since they're druids, instead of being NE, they could be NE-L. You know, along the same lines as Livid's alignment.

'Twas a good story. I did mean to say something, but other things kept getting in the way. It made smiting their evilness a little more satisfactory.

It's just that the Saturday morning cartoon concepts of good and evil are a bit... wrong. It's also why comic book movies make me even less likely to try reading a comic book. There certainly are psychopaths out there, people who are truly evil, but they aren't in sufficient numbers to justify a whole alignment. The thing is that everyone is the hero of their own story, and in doing so they justify their actions, even the actions they know to be wrong. Someone in a Chicago gang who commits a driveby shooting probably just considers it proper justice for a slight done against all he knows. Terrorists believe that they holy warriors fighting against infidels backed by the power of Satan.

Everyone justifies their actions. Everyone is a hero.

The bad guy in Guardians of the Galaxy was absurd. He wanted to kill everyone on a planet? Yeah, way to make the audience have to think. Sigh. But then take Game of Thrones... who is evil? Who is good? Is there really that much difference between them? We have the bastard, and he is clearly a psychopath, but the rest leave a lot of room for interpretations. Their actions are justified by what they believe and their position. Cersei is a crazy bitch, but all she wants is to protect her family at all costs. She sees Tyrion as a monster who hurt her family by killing her mother, so he is the enemy to her. There really is no good and evil.


So when it comes to magical critters and stuff, sure, they can be objectively evil. From the perspective of the living, there is no doubt a lich is evil. I'm down with that. It's just that when it comes to humans, it's usually just a different point of view. There are a few attitudes I put into the evil camp. Not being concerned with the innocent, for example. Willingness to betray friends for personal benefit. Seeking power for the sole purpose of lording over others. That sort of thing.

I think in the next campaign I run, all alignment will be gone. Paladins will swear an oath to act in a certain way, and to maintain their powers they must do so. Monks will also take such vows. What those powers will be... well... that's why it's tricky. Smite Evil is out, and Smite Infidel is way too strong. It's for a distant future, of course, but we'll see.

I've been sick and out of town.

Where was I for work? Well, one of these things drove by on my way to work and I almost died laughing:

Sadly, I did not get my own picture, but the internet is well populated with them.

Anyway, I didn't see the summary until today.

And praise Calor, it is glorious. I've been considering a priest of Calor as a PC since fucking college. What an absolutely perfect lawful evil sun god. I'm glad they are on the right side of things, sacrificing the weak to keep the strong. Such a perfect philosophy, and I will continue to demonstrate my support by generous donation of cold iron arrowheads. All these noble Calorites need do is dissipate their momentum, preferably somewhere in the sternum, and the arrows are theirs to keep!

Amazing writeup, thanks.