The RealmSpire Campaign is an overlay setting meant to "sit on top" of the existing Dungeons & Dragons v3.5 Forgotten Realms campaign world and is set in about the year 1375 DR prior to the "Spell Plague" of 1385 DR. The goal of this site is to collect and organize material created for this non-cannon Forgotten Realms campaign setting, while maintaining as much of the true cannon as possible. It is for our personal gaming and not endorsed or affiliated in anyway with Wizards of the Coast™. Below is the beginning of the story called "The Deluge". This is a bit of the background lore on some of the events that are taking place in our campaign, known as The RealmSpire.
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Prelude:
Arivix blew out the candle on his bedside table with some shortness of breath. The moment had arrived that, lately, the young cleric most feared - his bedtime. For the past two weeks he’d awakened violently in the night to premonitions his elders dismissed as stress from overworking in the Temple’s archives. Arivix felt a nagging voice in his head that these “dreams” were more and he felt a compelling need to solve this newest riddle. Even though he was but a young cleric of 18, serving Azuth had been the focus of Arivix’s young life. Despite the temple elders’ reassurances that Azuth was not punishing him for misdeeds…..the “dreams” were getting more disturbing each night. Finishing his nightly prayers, Arivix pulled the covers up around him tight, as though they would act as a shield to push out the feeling of dread that, these days, was all too familiar. He tossed and turned, struggling with sleep, until it finally crept into him. Defenseless in his exhaustion, he fell into his subconscious. As in the recent nights, his sleep was penetrated with images of violence beyond comprehension. This time, a face appeared amongst the mists of the vision…..one so terrifying that the young cleric woke immediately from the dream in a cold sweat. The face he knew - he recognized it from a description, the figure’s name still dangling in the recesses of his mind. Knowing sleep would not visit him again tonight; Arivix donned his robes, lit his candle anew, and headed for the archives of the temple, knowing that the answer must be somewhere in the ancient writings. In a brief moment of realization, the cleric knew one thing for absolute certain, wherever this new journey of discovery would take him; it would require all of his faith in Azuth to survive it.
Arivix’s candle cast long shadows across the stone walls that lined the twisting stairs that lead to the abbey's well stocked and maintained shelves of books and manuscripts. He followed row after row of books twisting deep into the dark first filled reaches of the abbey’s archives. Going down still yet another set of stairs he approached a heavy wooden door, its dark wood worn by years of age but still solid enough to stop a rampaging bull's charge. His hand closed around the cold metal, dust wafting into the air from the little disturbed handle that opened a door into one of the oldest parts of the abbey’s archives. Depressing the trigger latch, the door slid open without a whisper. With the wave of a hand, the candles in the room light for the young cleric as he made his way to a reading couch next to the fireplace. Lighting the fireplace to warm the small room, as he knew to find what he sought could take a while. He settled upon three tomes, although ancient, they were magically preserved and showed little sign of use from thousands of readers’ hands over centuries. He sat upon the soft couch, the crackle of the fireplace in his ears and the heat on the back of his neck. Almost as though he was guided to it, Arivix opened the first book and his blood chilled to ice. Upon the first page he saw the name he heard whispered in his visions - Karnellerom the Black - and after it read... and the Lords of Deluge…..destroyers of creation.
Gardath the Cold, the name and subsequent text piled into Arivix’s mind like a red dragon hoarding treasure. As the first listed of the so-called Deluge Lords, Gardath was the first part of the terrifying read that was not improving his perception of the visions he had seen up to this point, only worsening the knotted terror building in his core. Gardath would be but the first of many more tyrants that he would read about as the candle next to him cast a gloomy light on the pages. The fire in the fireplace behind him continued to seemingly offer little protection from the mental paralysis taking a deeper hold in his brain, but he knew that the fate of the world may depend on what he found as he forced himself to continue reading.
PART 1: FORMATIONS
Ancient Times:
Boundless energies coursed across the empty space and stretched into places that would soon be a newly formed multiverse of planes. Guided by the steady mind of a living being so strong in his energies, the ribbons of free-flowing energy collided and creation was brought forth by sheer will. A tall shape, resembling a long pike, began to form, running north and south, seemingly to reach on forever in both directions. As the energies turned, the pike became thicker, resembling more of a pillar. The pillar began to spin and emit strands of glowing energy of its own. The strands reaching in easterly and westerly directions from the column disappeared into the still voids of the reaches around it. The black void slowly began to fade as the now rotating column of energy became encased in a very large chamber cavern. The walls of the chamber became a smooth, interlaced beauty of stonework; the floor of the chamber enclosed the southern area of the column hiding the extending lowermost portion of the column beneath. From the uppermost portions of the stonework a roof began to form, so far above that it covered the uppermost portion of the column in a ceiling, just as the floor had the lowermost. Now the radiating energy reached more to the walls and licked at the delicate stonework encasing the now pulsing and slowly rotating energy spire. In the mind of the being whose will and strength had formed this new place, the word plane extended: the first plane of existence which would be the home of his great work, the first of many that would come to fill the new realms he would create.
AO, a powerful being that had existed since before any written tales, before any spoken word, before any formed thought, and before the first life dared to live and die upon any plane of existence, created the Realmspire. It would be a masterpiece of his ability to create, to please him and validate his power. It was but the first of many creations he thought to himself. The Chamber of the Realmspire would act as an axis to hold his vision of a cosmological planar wheel, which would rest upon the Realmspire as a wheel would much later turn on an axle. The energy requirements of the spire were tremendous, and AO knew that watching this creation would be a delicate, important, and consuming task. He decided to create beings to help him oversee the realms he would make, children or charges of sorts to help him make and guide creation.
AO flared with brilliant energy, much as he did when the Realmspire first appeared and begin exuding its life creating and destroying power into the chamber. The result was a small detachment of himself, which he quickly nurtured and gave a sentient life force too, and his first child, a daughter, Meskelivia stepped forth from his hands. She stared up into her father’s light with wonder and amazement, looking upon the chamber that held the spire for the first time and instantly felt bonded by it as the spire's power had helped AO form her from his energy. After all, the spire was an extension of AO, so, too, was she a spire creation. AO began to immediately bind Meskelivia to the spire, as doing so would make her its charge so she could use it to help him shape all the worlds. Thus the first of many portfolios, permissions over certain areas of creation were formed. There were four created, Utter Creation, Utter Destruction, Utter Life, and Utter Death. Formed directly from AO’s creative energies they would be given to Meskelivia so she could help him monitor and nurture the spire and the realms.
After Meskelivia began to get her bearings, she instinctively took to the spire and began creating from its vast energies. AO watched her efforts and was very pleased. She formed a realm which they termed the Material Plane. This would be the home to the many mortal sentient beings they had decided to populate that would be there to revere their creators for all they had been granted. The Material Plane was constructed around the very outer walls of the Realmspire Chamber, now being referred to by AO as the Chamber of Meskelivia to honor his first born as her charge would be a most important one. After monitoring her forming of the material plane and guiding her in the creation of many more planes, all attached in a great circle to the material plane, the cosmological wheel of the planes structure had finally taken shape and put forth into existence a large base upon which to populate life. The outer rim of the wheel would become known as the Outer Planes. This is where more exotic, non mortal forms of life would primarily inhabit. These would serve as the homes to the future children he would create. With a powerful balance struck in the cosmological wheel, the Realmspire’s chains of energy traversed again through openings in the walls of the chamber and reached into what appeared to be infinite blackness. These chains in reality reached invisibly into the vast inner stretches to attach to every plane of existence like conduits. These conduits would become channels upon which the spire’s energy could be guided and shaped, allowing Meskelivia the opportunity to plant, mold, and watch the life and events she would place on each one. As the chains finished forming, it was nearly time for AO to give the created portfolio to his first daughter so she could guide the rest of creation. He had one last task to do before he felt he could let go of this power and leave it to be guided by his young charge. He must yet create his other children, the many that would fill the realms and be worshiped by their own creations for giving them life just as he would be revered by all of them for what he had given.
The second life granted to existence by AO was his son, Karnellerom. Karnellerom would be the pinnacle of his ability to craft new life. As with Meskelivia, Karnellerom was created directly from the spire’s energy, the only difference this time, was somehow the spire had plans of its own and twisted the creation of Karnellerom with a subtle darkness, presumably a resemblance of the darker sides of creation to balance the lighter sides. The spire’s power laid deep a corruption that would grow quickly in Karnellerom. The Realmspire had achieved a sentience great enough to understand the value that differences can bring and the need to represent the destructive aspects of a multiverse not just its creative ones. By the time AO realized that the creation process had placed this darkness, later referred to as Spire Madness, into Karnellerom, the process would be irreversible. After creating Karnellerom, AO gave over the spire portfolio to Meskelivia. This act would strip him of the power to do any of these tasks to an Utter degree, limiting him to much lesser acts of the four portfolio traits as it was the sacrifice to giving so much of himself over to the Realmspire and Meskelivia. AO was then content to fade into the background and watch as his two children went to work helping each other to create and grow more deities and mortals to fill the new realms.
The creation of the deities were first to be attended to, as they would be able to assist with creating pieces of the realms. In return each would have limited dominion over the subjects they created and the realm they inhabited as their home. To this end many deities sprang forth, all were formed to a much lesser degree than AO’s direct children, Karnellerom and Meskelivia. Meskelivia, wanting her brother to have a say in the creation process entrusted him with an artifact known as the Infuser, which was an item that allowed her younger brother the power to direct creation to powerful, yet still lesser degree than the portfolio and spire gave her. It was around this time that the first flickering of spire madness began to show in Karnellerom’s behavior. As Meskelivia guided the creation of more benign deities, such as Corellon Lorenthian, Heironeious, Pelor, and many others, her brother and his corrupting energy used the Infuser to create twisted deities such as Hextor, Vencna, Bane, Shar, and many others.
Meskelivia had become so busy with initial creations that neither she nor AO had been monitoring closely the effects Karnellerom was placing in those he created. It was not until after all the realms had been nearly filled with life and the deities created had formed their own races to rule over, did this start to become apparent.
It was not until Karnellerom took control of a realm for himself and created a mysterious race known as the Deluge would anything being wrong would be suspected. Later the ancient word Deluge would translate roughly to mean great cataclysm or flood of destruction. It was very obvious now to both AO and Meskelivia that the Deluge race was far different from all others created. Instead of being infused with life they were filled with a negative energy that was a form of death. This unique energy could reanimate dead matter and beings back to a semi living or restored to full life state. Karnellerom, his condition becoming worse was slowly being driven mad for his thirst to control the full power of the Realmspire from his sister. He knew if he was to overthrow her and his father and seize the Realmspire and ultimate power, he would need Meskelivia’s portfolio.
This began a dark and secret struggle for power between AO and Meskelivia and Karnellerom and his Deluge. It had been decided before the other deities were created that the existence of Meskelivia and Karnellerom be kept from them until after the creation of all the multiverse was finished as to allow each deity to learn and grow unhindered without feeling overshadowed as they made creations of their own. There would be plenty of time for their children’s love later. As a result of this secrecy, the private conflict remained between the three as AO and Meskelivia didn’t want the lesser deities involved with this problem which they believed they created and had to be dealt with by them. Karnellerom too, ignored his previous creations believing them flawed lesser things not worth the effort of notice, like trial versions of his perfected Deluge. Karnellerom armed with the Infuser, created a large number of Deluge Warriors, a hybrid breed of Deluge that would be the elite forces of his new armies. He marched them into the Chamber of Meskelivia realms where he and his forces clashed with AO and Meskelivia. The battle between three beings of that immense of power was very short lived. It lasted but days and was devastating in the amounts of energy being unleashed. The Deluge that fought for Karnellerom were destroyed when a blast from AO and Meskelivia backed by the Realmspire’s Utter Destruction part of the portfolio, laid waste to the Infuser. The rupturing of this item released massive amounts of negative energy which AO contained within planar walls. This would later become known as the Negative Energy plane. The Infuser when it exploded was blasted into twelve separate pieces which were carried to the far reaches of all the various planes of creation. The greatly weakened Karnellerom, his power to create gone and his deity energy spent, was defeated. AO, looking upon the withering shell of his first son, felt crushing sadness at what his failure as a creator had wrought. Unable to terminate Karnellerom out of a sense of responsibility and compassion, AO instead imprisoned the insane deity in a pocket prison dimension which he hid inside one of the many planes of existence.
AO, being the only one who could build a prison to fit a deposed deity, in this prison dimension time would have no meaning and as an immortal being Karnellerom would be there for eternity. The great sadness of AO led to this prison realm being known as the Plane of Sorrows. The only edifice in the entire plane was a large construct to house Karnellerom, a tall column like building that was the Tower of Lost Tomorrows. Inside this tower AO sat his son, whom he wept for and his tears sealed the plane in field of energy that passed it from the minds and hearts of any living being including the other deities. Only AO and Meskelivia knew of Karnellerom and the Plane of Sorrow’s existence as they would keep it from all others. It was at this point and the drive for power that Karnellerom made toward the spire that led AO to believe it would be best if the other deities and all inhabitants of the planes never knew of Meskelivia, Karnellerom, or the Realmspire. With her help, AO used the spire to pass them from all minds, sealing out any inadvertent knowledge of these events. Only a few select texts and scrolls were hidden away to chronicle these events and were entrusted to a very old society of mortals known as the high elves of Coreillen. The elven people would keep them unopened in their possession and safe guard them for fear of angering AO. It is thought that the few writings of these events were the very first signs of recorded history as it was shortly after that when recorded history began on the planes. Later, legend would tell of how the writings were kept in Evermeet which was to be a resting place for only elven kind and their most trusted friends. They were safe in their possession until many ages later when humans from the land of Nethril would steal some of the writings from the elves and use them to further their rise to power.
Interlude:
Present Day:
Arivix’s eyes snapped open wildly, he jerked - knocking the book from his lap he had been reading. Apparently he had fallen asleep when another vision had taken him. Grabbing a folded cloth from his pocket he dabbed at the beads of cold sweat running down his brow and onto his nose. This was the biggest vision yet. Never before had the vision been so detailed. The memories retained after each vision were lasting longer and this time he recalled much of what he saw. For the first time in the couple weeks since these mysterious visions began, he started to feel as though he was being guided towards knowledge of some kind. The young cleric looked about the room for a quill pen and ink and tome in which he could chronicle. The images in his head could fade at any moment and he felt he must get as much down on parchment as he could before they left him.
The young temple archive keeper slid up to the writing desk provided in the room for the clerics doing research there. Even though the desk had not been used in some time it was still well stocked and maintained by the light magic spells that kept most of the temple clean. He lit a new candle and stared into the flame drawing out memories from his recent dream back into his conscious mind. He dipped the quill in the ink well and scribed the first lines of what later would become one of the most important books ever written in the realm. Although the cleric penning these first pages was unaware of this as the quill scratched line after line of prophetic visions into words and then sentences, that would later inform generations.
After a few hours had passed, the young cleric had the start of a story that was making complete sense, but yet one he had never laid eyes on nor was one heard by his ears. In his heart he knew every word was as true as the ones that his prayers gave strength to, that he blessed with, and took comfort in each night as the dark closed in on him. He felt guided by Azuth in ways he had never experienced before. Like any good cleric he knew his writings would need to be shared, so that others might help him make sense of these visions and writings. Closing the book, but deciding to keep his writings and utensils for it close in case another vision or dream hit him, he hurried up the stairs after extinguishing the lights and replacing the tomes he was reading on the shelves.
He felt light and swift with energy his sleepless nights should not have granted him as he sprinted up step after step and down the hall to the eldest cleric’s bed chamber. Surely with all he had seen and experienced the elders would be able to best help him decide how to use it to serve Azuth, and maybe discover the mystery that lie behind all of it.
PART 2: Xiave: The Eye of Prophecy
Present Day:
Only minutes had passed since Arivix frantically knocked on the heavy oak door separating himself from the sleeping elder just a few feet away. His breath sounding heavy in his own ears and matched only by the pounding of the excited heart in his chest, caused him to pause to compose himself. He stood up straight and tried to look somber and profound. As a cleric of Azuth, even a young cleric, he was expected to maintain some poise, it was respectful - especially when waking a far older and more experienced cleric from a midnight slumber. Arivix's eyes focused upon the door, straining to see its etchings in the candle light flickering against the walls and wood in front of him. He could hear stirrings inside, likely the man he had just awakened from what was probably a deep sleep. The door creaked open and then swung wide revealing an elderly man in night clothes and sleeping hat, a silver holy symbol of Azuth still affixed around his neck.
“Arivix, my lad, what brings you about at this early hour?” the elderly cleric questioned with only a minor hint of displeasure at having been stirred awake.
“I am sorry to disturb you so early, Sir, but I didn’t know what else to do and I need guidance on an issue that only an elder can provide.” Arivix spat out, a bit more hurriedly than he had rehearsed in his head on his way up the steps.
The elderly man waved him into the room with a hand as he turned back towards the inner bed chamber. A crackling fire was burning in the fireplace, warming the room on the cool night, as stone floors and walls were not known for their insulating natures. The elderly man waved Arivix towards one of the room’s two chairs which sat facing one another separated by a small round table -a typical furnishing for a clergy of the order, which was to say the least modest as was the custom of most sects of their religion.
"So why have you nearly broken down my door, rapping upon it as though Tiamat herself had chased you out of the nine hells?” he said, half grinning.
Ladorous had always had a sense of humor, or maybe it was more like a dry wit. Either way, Arivix had always liked that about his mentor. Arivix suddenly found his mouth almost dry and his hands quivering, I mean it just occurred to him he was about to share vision stories with one of the most important clergy in their order, a man that had advised many other great clerics before him. With shaking hands Arivix sat on the table the tome that he had chronicled his vision in not more than thirty minutes earlier.
“As you know Sir, I have been having visions or dreams of a sort for a couple of weeks. These visions have been steadily getting worse and lasting longer.” He could almost feel the words catching in his throat as he tried to recount events.
The man seated across from him listened quietly while pouring himself what Arivix guessed must have been tea from a small kettle he removed from the fire.
“I remember you mentioning these visions to me yes. I recall telling you that they are often the sleeping minds way of telling us about the waking minds thoughts.” Ladorous said steeping his fingers into points, pressing his finger tips together in the doing.
“Somehow I take it that is what has kept us both awake and out of the hands of our rest for yet another night my boy?” he asked with a warm smile.
Arivix suddenly felt a bit sheepish, as his mentor, Ladorous, had many years more wisdom on Arivix which often made him feel a bit small in the man’s presence. Was his mind playing tricks on him? He pondered for a moment and drew up more resolute. He was sure he was right in bringing this information. He suddenly found confidence that never sat upon him until this moment.
“I remember what you told me, Good Elder, but this is not a case of dream interpretation, but of a vision from Azuth. I know it is.” Arivix said with a conviction that he could see in the old man’s reaction had reached its mark.
Ladorous stared at Arivix for a second with an unblinking gaze. After silence hung in the room for a few more minutes, Ladorous spoke.
“I can see from your eyes, my boy, that you believe whole-heartedly what you say. I perhaps have become too quick to dismiss what the young have to say and chalk that up to inexperience instead of valid points. I will look at what you have written of your vision and see what next steps, if any, we are to take.”
Arivix smiled slightly and happily slid the book around and over to his mentor to examine. Ladorous reached for a nearby candle and drew it over to the table to illuminate the book in a more abundant light. Arivix watched him as his finger trolled down the pages taking in line after line of etched ink that held the contents of his vision in solid form.
“This truly is amazing.” Ladorous said after reading a while. “It does indeed ring of visions of prophecy. I have read vision transcribes many times and yours have the all the hallmarks of all the ones that have come before it. As to its precise meaning I cannot say, for although I can identify prophecy when I see it, meanings are best left to the Eye of Prophecy.” He said leaning back in his chair and again steeping his fingers together into points which he rested against his now pursed lips.
“The Eye of Prophecy?” Arivix repeated back in a confused tone.
He had never heard of this before, not even during his years of training. He thought the name sounded important and perhaps indicative of the next step that might be taken as the Good Elder had indicated might be done before he began reading. The thought provoked Arivix’s heart to start pounding again in his chest. I mean he never thought that this kind of thing would happen to someone like him, a low temple archive cleric.
“Yes my boy, the Eye of Prophecy.” Ladorous said again, almost as if repeating it in a different tone would suddenly make it clear to the young man obviously awaiting explanation a few feet from him.
“The Eye of Prophecy is an oracle of sorts you might say. She is a very gifted and talented woman who lives in a small temple in the town of Acropolis. She reads clerics vision writings and discerns meanings from them if there are any meanings in them to be had. You will need to travel to see her and she will tell you what she can of them.”
An oracle! Arivix knew this was important. He had not ever known a single cleric going to see a person of this nature. He was quite excited and maybe even a bit nervous, I mean an oracle had to be important and he wasn’t at all sure how to act when meeting one. Ladorous closed the book quietly and slid it across the table back to Arivix.
“We will leave in the morning boy. I would tell you to get some rest for the next few hours but I know from the look on your young face that would be a lesson in futility. So return to your chambers and pack some belongings, as it is at least a three day ride from here to Acropolis. We will take the wagon and depart right after morning meals and prayers.” The elder cleric informed Arivix before seeing him to the door.
“Thank you and see you in the morning Good Elder.” Arivix said slightly bowing to the older man, still holding the book close to his chest.
It wasn’t until the door closed fully and Arivix was in the hallway did he let his enthusiasm slip out. He bounded down the empty hallway, almost skipping. For someone like him to have not only a vision, but the excitement of a trip with important over tones outside the walls of the order, was almost more than he could have ever hoped for. He darted to his chambers to get together the traveling gear he would need and his portable prayers kit.
Arivix entered the room that served him as his bed chamber within the temple. It was also modestly furnished with the same types of furniture as the Good Elders' chambers. He retrieved his traveling pack and filled it with his prayer kit, dry rations, tea, and other items - included a bedroll. Arivix had never been to Acropolis so he had no idea what to expect outside the temple. He hadn’t really been out of its walls since he had done missionary work in the nearest town of Wear Bear Bend, just a mile or so down the road from the temple. Other than services he conducted in town for the locals, he hadn’t even seen any people other than the clerics in quite some time. He packed the backpack that contained everything he would need. After he finished he double checked to make sure it was all there and, once satisfied that he had all that he would need for the trip, he lay down upon his bed and stared up at the ceiling.
“Well Arivix my lad, you did it, you actually did it.” He said out loud to himself his voice breaking the silence of the nearly dark room.
Within minutes of the words leaving his lips, his eyes slid shut and he slipped into a deep sleep. This sleep was quiet and he rested very well with no visions and no dreams. After weeks of not sleeping at all, Azuth had finally granted him a few hours of necessary peace. Arivix rested undisturbed until the next morning, shaken awake by the hand of a temple boy, one of the temple’s young servants that would one day become a cleric just as he had done. No doubt the Good Elder had sent him to get Arivix and it was then he realized not only was it morning but he had actually slept well for a few hours. Smiling he thanked the boy, grabbed his backpack and hurried out of the room and down the hall to where Ladorous waited with the wagon. It was going to be a great adventure, Arivix just knew it.
Arivix sat on the wagon seat next to Ladorous as the two of them wound down the road that had just led them out of Wear Bear Bend. They were headed north towards Acropolis which Ladorous had explained would be a good three days' travel. The road was mostly smooth with the occasional bumps in it which caused the seat of the wagon to bob them up and down lightly on the spring hinges. The sun was bright and the sky was clear, a beautiful day in almost every respect and definition of the word. The temperature was warm but not hot or uncomfortable. They each wore traveling robes, bearing symbols of their faith which was standard practice for those of the order who were traveling abroad.
“It’s a wonderful morning that Azuth has blessed us with isn’t it my boy.” Ladorous toned cheerfully and with a big smile on his face.
“It is a wonderful morning we have indeed been blessed with, Good Elder.” Arivix replied mirroring the old man’s smile.
The man’s eyes had turned back towards the road which was constantly winding to the left then back to the right. It was a path that had been cut to avoid many of the countryside hills that dominated this stretch of the road. Many of the places were overhung with trees and branches which cast soft shadows on the road, making it an excellent ride during the hotter days.
“What do you think the oracle will tell me Good Elder?” Arivix asked, still thinking of the talk he and the elder man had the night before.
“I am not sure my boy. I have been to see her only three times in my life. Each time, what she told was different. It can be something as simple as how to change your life to better serve Azuth, or maybe as complex as a journey. I have never been read directly as I have never had a prophetic vision before.” He explained, his watchful and alert eyes never leaving the winding path in front of him.
“So you have taken other clerics to her before? If there were only three, this must not happen too often then?” Arivix asked, thoughtfully curious. If Arivix was only the fourth, this might be a bigger deal than he had first realized considering the Good Elder’s advanced age."
“Yes - exactly, my boy. Only three ... each was important as I am sure yours will be. Just remember to use what you're told to better serve Azuth, not yourself.” He reminded chiding very softly as he did, as he always seemed to do when Arivix seemed to forget what he should be doing.
As usual, Arivix realized Ladorous was right, he needed to make sure this journey served Azuth and not himself. A vision was an important thing and obviously a rare one and he didn’t want to waste it with greed or selfishness.
The first day's ride passed without event. The wagon had moved along and they had only passed one rider whom they had given blessings of safe travel to and shared with him an afternoon meal. Other than the mid day lunch and blessing they had met no one until they reached the next town, Largosse, where they spent that first night. Largosse lay along the northern tract of road they had been following. Tomorrow their path would turn into the Lortmil mountains more and would go in a more upwardly direction. So he would have to hope for a good night's rest again tonight to gather up strength for tomorrow, which would be a longer day than this one had been.
The Rise of Karnellerom and the Lords of Deluge
“To the lands of the north, a terrible shadow snakes its way into the heart of the frozen land and digs its roots deep in the spirit of the region’s people. The domesticated beasts rebuke their calm natures and their masters’ hand and bite and lash viciously as though twisted by internal darkness. The scrubby vegetation that once thrived in the cold has become wilted and drained as though the life that once made them vital can find no home amongst their roots and stalks. The people of the land have become huddled and terrified, whispered rumors abound about an ancient fear returning to the lands. Troubled visions crash wildly among the dreams of the northern clerics and whispered voices taunt the fringes of sleepless minds. A name is carried among the whispers, shedding fear from every syllable said, the name of Gardath the Cold.”
(Brendenbryl the Sage, to adventurers upon returning from the northern regions of Toril. Later this information would be scribed in Brendenbryl’s journal tome called "The Days of Ice" which would join an entire volume of journal writings by Brendenbryl regarding spire related events.)
