User:VasÐrakken

Born in a memorial hospital to two British Citizens that could not decide if they were British or Americans, I grew up for five years wondering who I was. My parents did not want to raise me in the United States of America, because my father re-married to avoid losing his head for failing to produce a heir. My parents taught me the Letters of fifty different languages but it was my wet nurse that taught me English, so I could talk at school without sounding like a moron. It was from those letters that I learned to write Torvas and my wet Nurse Josphine Capani thought God taught me the Israel language so she made sure I could actual understand what words are. So my birth tongue despite being raised within twenty minutes of Philly was a mix of Icelandic and Irish Gaelic with a brogue so thick it be cut with a knife. When my parents were deported back to the United Kingdom, where I was going to live was in question, so I was home from Juilliard's School for Young Inquiring Minds and I took my next years tuition and rode a couch-line bus to my parents summer home on Sand Piper Isle. Most people know it as Ocean City, NJ these days but back then everything north of Main Street was a bird sanctuary. That main street is now 34th street. That is how I ended playing Dungeons and Dragons in 1987. The first module I wrote was used in Voloʻs Guild to the realms and every time I try to update it for the current edition the version changes before I get it finished.

Ancient halls of Myth di Tör
As of the rewriting for 5e, this is targeted at level 11 adventures while meeting the guild-lines for including enough optional milestone events to run it with level one adventures. Initially it was a template on how to run an over arching campaign with different peopleʻs modules then there was a running joke of you need a lantern, so did anyone bring one? As we tried to figure out what could and could not be in the bag of random stuff. When we played on the Saturday game if you did not have it written down you had to do without. So with this update there is going a couple lists of gear most adventures need but do not bring because we have had pre-made characters and the explorer packs. Caer da Aʻu lepe means ruins of the fishing village.

So there are some really bad puns in the source book. The Trollbark was intended to be what happens if plant black berry brambles and climbing ivy and roses and come back a couple hundred later and go oh I guess no one pruned them. So the whole forest is an over grown druid grove that was next to the warlockʻs crypt, of ancient elms, apple tree, ceder, helmlock, holly trees, oak, pines, spruces, walnut and willow trees that grew up out the fertile soil washing down from the cascades of the range south of Forest. Then as ever bountful ewer was planted as a joke in 1139, it slowly became an ever expanding swamp and even though the magic item was lost to the rusting as the swamp rotted out the roots of everything but the ceders and willow trees, but as the brambles and briers grew more wild it became the maze of eighty foot tall brambles and briers, that grow and expand over the bayon trees and as they get further away from where the ewer was planted it becomes more dense and as the vines grow toward the light the lower vines die off and only the roots leave it like a woven mid level canopy of dense thorns and green brambles with thorns the size of spear heads. The temple was built in -3900 DR to first Mystryl Goddess of magic, by her Exarch Lliira, Our Lady of Joy, shifting the magic to strenghten the nature growth of the forest and the serenity of the forest. With her reincarnation in -339 DR, her hand maiden was trapped in the feywilde. By the time Mystra was among the Gods again Lliira had created a new temple in the feywilde away from humans. In 1121 Dr when Bývörðæįr is born in the feywilde to leShay elves that worship Lliira and by extension Mystra, the temple is long overgrown but the Planar gate that was worked into the very stone of the temple is still there. In 1139 in frustration at being the only elf around that could not cast more than minor cantrips, he reaches out with his life force to ask Lliira and stopped short by Mystra, warning him that magic is forbidden and shall not answer to his grasp. He blinks and on bent knee asks what was he grasping for? Mystra starts to tell him why does not matter when she realizes that what he was reaching for was more than the mortal magic but what he used in life was the magic of the divine more than the arcane. She told him what he was reaching for was the fires of creation but what he could do is take and Oath to her as a her champion. That she would call many her chosen but only the fey that swore to use their power to the good would be able to earn the mantle of the blessed of Mystryl. Then she opened the gate to the temple long enough for Bývörðæįr to step through into Toril at the tender age of eighteen. An Eladrin barely out of swadling left to wander the Trollbark forest. He wandered the protected grove and the ancient Mythral that kept out creatures was a silvery oily fog that dragged creatures into death  as it pulled the very life force into the ground to feed the plants. Eating the berries and way bread he had on him from that day and apples and figs from the grove trees for several years the temple is a childʻs delight but eventully he leaves the comforts of the forest to travel north entering waterdeep, the bardic college had not yet been built over the spell jammer docks, that burned down in 1215. He finds that most can barely understand the Celesial he speaks, combined with his mithral crafted field plate, he strikes an odd image in a city that is already know for the unusal. One priestess of Shar helps him out of an interest to cause him grief with his faith to Mystra. She trades him ten years of service as her body guard for anything she can teach him. It becomes a game between them to try and temp the other away from their faith. He teaches her arcane magic and she teaches him martial combat, politics and luster. He is too nieve for the last to have any impact which drives the priestess of shar to no end of distraction.

In 1180 Caervora breaks faith with shar and is destroyed, which leads to shar priests being barred from the city of waterdeep. Bývörðæįr prays to Mystra and Mystra steals Caervora from Sharʻs Wrath at the very moment before Shar destroys her so that to Shar the light of Caervora dissapers from the world. Mystra sends Bývörðæįr and Caervora into the depths of the feywilde. Bývörðæįr has only what fits in his bag of holding to include his spell jammer helm, his armour and Caervora with a decanter of water and a water breathing spell. He wakes up and Caervora is laughing she is human and her magic is all gone. All her divine sorcery is gone and her life span once measured in millia is now measured in decades. But she is alive and away from Shar. Bývörðæįr hacks down a plant to craft clothing for her and none of his magic answers his call. In horror all the decades he had lived away from the feywilde he had been using a mix of divine magic from Mystra and Shar and all it is gone, lost to save his lover. Knowing the nature of the feywilde he swaps enough clothing to Caervora and wraps the plant fronds into clothing or some protection from the enviroment. They set up into the deeps of the feywilde. Decades go by and their magic their gear is left buried in the ground by the beach their tent made of woven palm fronds, when Mystra wanders down the beach. She asks them was it worth it? Caervora sighs and says she is not ungrateful for surviving since the alternative was nothing, but that is this really living? Bývörðæįr grins and says it is interesting but can he earn his magic back? Mystra sighs and says that with the Dawnʻs first light each morning that they use it for good he can gain one spell back. Then she giggles and tells them that the socery they weilded from shar is gone but if they really want to draw the powers they likely shall find themselves facing shar again. Caervora sighs and says forever looking over a shoulder. Still picked the correct Goddess in the end. Bývörðæįr says how long before they can bring other elves here. Mystra looks around and says you have paradise here why spoil it? Bývörðæįr says for conversation, for beauty for more than existing, no matter how relaxing it is. She looks at Caervora and says in ten decades you shall be long gone from this realms can you go by another name and leave your old ways behind, I have plans for Bývörðæįr and Shar is not angry with him yet, she sees him more as a possibilty. For what only she knows. Then Mystra grins and says I shall create the bases for you to get back to the Dragonʻs Hallow. Mortals still think it is a dragon that eats people not the mist. She sighs and says to bring people means the mists have to have limits on what they take. Humm nothing larger than a elf. No Caervora is smaller. Humm then nothing larger than Caervora. Then she grins and looks at Caervora and says once you chose a new name, you will forget your past except that which you hold onto. Remember that means you shall remember nothing if hold nothing, but if you hold to Bývörðæįr you shall remember what you were thinking that day. Caervora says Noape. Mystra blinks and says pick another name you will be so confused that name only shall make it worse. Then she walks a pattern in the beach sand melting the sand into a planar gate, then she grins and says the activation for this gate is your new name, when you figure it out walk through it into the Dragonʻs Hallow. Then she turns to Bývörðæįr and says no you can not make a spell jamer from the bones of the dragons in the Hallow. Then she gigles and says the flower pot turned into a lake. Merideith Brightflame grins and walks into the pattern and wakes up in a forest with an erie silence that is terrifing. She remembers only the strong arms of Bývörðæįr around her and nothing else. Seconds later an eldricht blue flame roars into life as Bývörðæįr walks out of a painting on the wall of beach scene. He looks at her and horror and says Caervora? She blinks and says what is that? He blinks and says one of your ansestors. Sorry I mistook you for someone else. Then he blinks and says and now I am trapped on this side of the painting. He looks over at Caervora and says miss what is your name? Merideith Brightflame, looks at him hesitently and says why do you want to know? He sighs and says I need to know how  to open the gate back up. My armour is on the other side. She says then you do not get to know until I know why I know your name but you do not know mine. Or why the only memory I have is of your arms around me. Then she blushes and says I am not giving up that memory. Bývörðæįr sighs and says lass you are mortal I shall live ten again times your span of years and then hope to find you waiting in the Halls of Mystra. Merideith blinks and says who? Bývörðæįr grins and lets out a deep laugh and says the Goddess of Arcana whose temple you are standing in. He sighs and says I am a Blessed of Mystra, a Paladin for Good. Though you have to wait until tommorow for the least spell for I have only gotten my powers back this day and I have to pray tommorow at dawn to gain the first of many back. Bývörðæįr sighs an says I do nadda even know what century it is! Merideith says what was that? He sighs and says it has been a rough few years at least I can buy clothing again. Wandering around the temple they find the quarters that Bývörðæįr living in when he first arrived in Toril. The next moring Bývörðæįr tries to find a window that is not covered with two foot thick rose and ivy briers. He gives up and wanders down to the baths, where the terraced baths look out to the sea and grins as the sun rises over the water as he on bent knee asks Mystra for his blue flame blade back. The iron railing is bathed in spellfire and falls off into the bath below it a broken ruin. The spell fire destroying the magic on the railing. Mystra sighs behind him and says you would ask for that back. Bývörðæįr turns to her and says it is one your blessing correct? Mystra looks at him and says yes but it was to lure you away from her. Then she says Merideith stop hiding back there he can sense you and anyone else in the temple at for a full hour after dawn as the highest ranking priest in the temple. She comes out and says why did you take my memories? Mystra says you shall get them back if you live only to the good and fall in serviceto me and mine, or of old age still true to your oaths. You are safer without them. Then she sighs and says an old friend is coming for lunch. Be nice to her she can destroy you. Lliira shows up around lunch time and spends hours decusing faith and magic and life in general. Merideith grumbles that she is sure that she did not have to put up with being mortal before. Lliira says she was a dragon? Bývörðæįr sighs and says yes. Merideith says wait I was big and scaly when do I get to change back? Bývörðæįr looks at her and says do chala cry yer not getting your powers back until ye earn yer way back into the higher heavens. Lliira blinks and says wait your not one of mine anymore, you have her taint on your essence. I sigh and look at her and say I kept my oaths to Mystra, but where were you when I was stranded Arvandor? Lliira sighs and says traveling between the feywilde and Brightwater. Arvandor is to much the queen of air and darkness realm. She sighs and says you weild mortal powers and the divine alike as if they are the same. Bývörðæįr sighs and says I only have one spell back as of this morning and all it did was look cool and destory the bath railing. Lliira sighs and says first you sleep in my bedroom then you break the balcony railing, you really mad yourself at home. Bývörðæįr says ah we also changed the mists to not take anything larger than Merideith, that reminds me I have to try and use the portal to dig my armour up from the beach. Lliira blinks and says wait why did you bury your armour. Bývörðæįr grins and says come see how I spent the last decade or so. Then he laughs and says what year is it anyway? Lliira looks puzzled but says 1199 by dale recoking. They walk to the painting and Bývörðæįr says Merideith and walks into a still silent portal. He says ouh that hurt my nose. Merideith Brightflame says Brightflame and walks into the painting. Then looks at Bývörðæįr and says what my name is Merideith Brightflame, at which point the gate roars to life. Wreathing the painting in flames then inside wreathing edge of flames is a beach scene with a palm fronde tent and a very natural beach. Bývörðæįr grins and jumps through running off for something. Lliira and Merideith walk through the painting and Lliira looks around and says be very careful this is not toril. Bývörðæįr come back dragging a back pack that is half rotted through and says one wave and then we go back there is not much here. He tosses the back pack through the floating painting and goes for a swim in the Sparkling Sea. Lliira looks at him and says that is like swiming in holy water. She shivers and quickly jumps back through the painting to Toril, where she has a simalar gate to Bright water and the feywilde. Back in the temple they look at each other trying to figure out when the gate is going to close, and Merideith says her name really quick and the gate fades into painting between one second and the next. Then she tries it again and nothing happens. Bývörðæįr says I guess it is just once a day. Then he looks at Lliira and says so when do the deer show up in the forest? Lliira grins and says I can help you find some in the feywilde or brightwater.

Slowly they bring animals through into the forest which still takes the same, the weak and infirm, with no emotion or appel. Lliira finds it funny to teach wizzard spells to Bývörðæįr as he tries to build a home in the feywilde. Traveling back and forth between Waterdeep and the feywilde, slowly over time dragonʻs hallow becomes more of living breathing forest than a dark and scary primortial forest. The briers and brambles still shut out the direct light leaving the forest in perpetual twilight with and erie mist that rises from the ground and bleeds the life essesen into the fueling the Mythral. The elk and carribou find it safe and survive on the tough plants and bark but many other creatures fall to the mists and taken. Lliira brings a shriker mushroom by summoning spell and the mists devore the mushroom in seconds. She looks at Bývörðæįr and says my priests are not going to live here. It is still too much of Mystryl, and her chaotic ways.

Bývörðæįr earns himself a seat as a masked lord of Waterdeep for the second time, taking care not to reveal his old identy. While he was openly a paladin of Mystra, his powers are much diminished in the Arcane Arts and far stronger in the marital displines. He choses to go by Amortis instead of his old nickname Vlor, as much to seperate the past as to prevent anyone from remembering his old lover. Around 1269 Merideith starts avoiding Amortis. He offers to take her on trip to the old temple. They have to hack a path through the briers and brambles even taking the path from Aʻu lepe. She has to pause for breathe and makes joke about her age. Amortis looks at her and says your but what ninety one? She looks at Amortis and says honey ye make be made of star light and sillyness but some of us are of mortal burden. I look at her and say you work toward earning your rest in the high heavens. She looks at him and sighs and says I have no idea how you have kept me from feeling the decades like other human women but I am old. I can feel the years in my bones, while you look like the day you stepped out of that painting. I sigh and say maybe a dip in the singing sea would refresh your body? Merideith says will it gain me my dragon form back? Bývörðæįr sighs and says only fate decides that. I want to worship fate. I start laughing and say everyone worships fate wither they want to or ney. She blinks and says where can I find whom ever give me a young body only to take it away. Bývörðæįr says at the balcony at dawn. They make their way into the temple unsealing the lower mesa enterance with a spell. Bývörðæįr snickers and says giving up a spell to enter the door way is stilll funny when you have many but not so when you only have a few for the day. Merideith says so you do know how I feel. Bývörðæįr sighs and says the years are hard for those that burn so bright but I have met those that have pasted on to the high heavens. They pray at the main alter over looking the sea at the next morning at break of dawn and Merideith casts fireball on herself at the most powerful version she can cast and is vaporized in a second and only Bývörðæįr use of spellfire to eat an area in side the space of the fireball saves him but it scars the alter in the process. Mystra walks up behind him and says it is ok to cry she is safe in Arvandor as a dragon. She is still pretending it is what she wanted. Bývörðæįr sighs and says I can visit her but this alter have I destroyed it? Mystra giggles and says that alter is going to haunt me one day but not today. She says your going to teach at the temple in waterdeep, an ordinary cleric for ten years. Thus Bývörðæįr becomes Vek Relso until 1279, when he is raised to masked lord of waterdeep for the forth time. Some people will get the joke about that name. That is an easter egg.

In 1280 noticing that the mists do not kill larger animals Finaer Falous starts experimenting with sending imps and goblins into the Trollbark forest, and finds that he can not walk further north than one arce north of mountains. This is a result of the Mythral preventing evil creatures further north than the mists can power the spell, due to the larger creatures not feeding the spell more of the forest is safe to enter. He ends up on the mesa looking out at the isle and decides to build a tower there. With only a wish spell he asks for a palace. A decaying ruin of a castle fills in the space, forcing him to actually work to have any rooms that keep out the damp. Due to the wishʻs proximity to Myth di Tör the palace is permentaly in a state of ruin with anti magic fields and gnomish crafted stone work to seal out the damp. Only a gnome would figure out how to use anti magic field to create magic effects. In 1328 he is defeated and buried in the Warlock´s Crypt. In 1385 the crashing of the weave traps Bývörðæįr in the feywilde with his spell jammer stuck deep in the wilds collecting tall enough lumber that is grown to match the curvature of the spell jammer kheels. The weave crashing silences the mists for the first time since their creation and castle on Orlumbor crumbles to dust as the fields all colapse. As Midnight releases the weave as she ascends to Divinity the mists boil up from the ground devoring anything smaller than a full grown human woman. A week later the ruins of a castle blink into exsitance in the asteral plane and etheral plane but only at dawn do they exist on toril.