Category Archives: Planes of Power

Eriak Zek, Everquest Lore, Planes of Power, Tallon Zek, The Divine Language, Vallon Zek

The Divine Language

July 7, 2013 Michael Leave a comment

The Cipher of the Divine Language appears on your arms for a brief moment then fades.

———————————-

Eriak’s eyes grow red with rage as the brother’s names escape your lips. He begins to utter what sound to be curses in a strange language. ‘Cani sonus amnds genika nalic reh malik! Si sol Gerika ib si tali alik rela seria gani dat amnd taki seri ceki wane. Tallon ak Vallon will kel wela sateran kinaren e matel e zetirae!

Eriak glares at you with veiled hatred. ‘Sonus amnds ganika nalic celin malik!

———————————-

Eriak’s eyes grow red with rage as the brother’s names escape your lips. Your arm begins to radiate with a subtle heat. You look down to see runes glowing across your arm. ‘Do not utter those cursed names here fool! I may be cursed but I can still tear your soul from that husk you call a body! Tallon and Vallon will one day taste the vengeance of the lord of guile!

Eriak glares at you with veiled hatred. The runes on your arm begin to glow again silently. ‘Speak those cursed names again fool!

Book, Fortress of Krithgor, Krithgor, mobile, Ogre, Plane of Earth, Planes of Power, Rallos Zek, Tunaria, Warlord Murdunk, Zek

Chronicle of Gromok, Volume I

June 27, 2013 Michael Leave a comment

The Chronicle of Gromok Hergom
I ink these words for fear that my once proud and mighty Ogres will forget the events I have seen in my long life. I am known at the time of this inking as Elder Gromok but I was once a soldier of little renown and status in the mighty Rallosian Legions under the command of Warlord Murdunk.

I was not raised to be an Elder of my fellow Ogres. My training was that of a soldier and I concerned myself only with the arts of warfare. It is with reluctance that I now bear the mantle of Elder and the cause of that reluctance is the same reason that I ink this tale.

I was stationed at the Fortress of Krithgor when the ogre magi first opened the portals to the Planes of Power. Plans were quickly laid and orders sent to our fortresses and troops in all corners of Tunaria. A large invasion force of Ogres, Giants, Orcs, and Goblins gathered at the newly opened planar portals. At the time I felt disappointed that my orders were to remain at Fortress Krithgor, that disappointment quickly turned to anger when I learned that the invasion failed, and although Warlord Murdunk survived our losses were great.

Some time passed before news reached the Fortress of Krithgor that a second invasion was being orchestrated. Rumors circled like hungry buzzards over a field of carnage concerning the plans for this second invasion. It was even said that Rallos Zek was to lead the campaign with Warlord Murdunk and the most renowned champions of the Giants, Orcs, and Goblins by his side. Once again my orders were to remain at the home front to defend the women, children, and elderly citizens of the Rallosian Empire.

It was not long after the invasion forces of the Rallosian Legions once again passed through the portals to the Planes of Power that the home front too became a place of battle, slaughter, and glory. Mortal disciples of deities opposed to The Warlord, Rallos Zek, attacked the citizens and fortresses of the Rallosian Empire on Tunaria. Our enemies fought valiantly, and the resulting battles were the most glorious I was ever to behold. My weapons and armor were stained with the blood of our foes, and our children and elders kept safe within our impenetrable strongholds. Messengers passing through the Fortress of Krithgor spoke of the victories of the legion units led by Rallos Zek, Warlord Murdunk, and the Generals Tallon and Vallon. It was said that the Rathe Council, the twelve rulers of the Plane of Earth had been captured and forced to Norrath where they were being executed by Murdunk and his Generals, that mountains burst from the earth where the gods fell and that the dying tears of the fallen gods formed a cold, deep lake between the newly risen mountain peaks.

Age of War, Ashen Order, Avatar of War, Book, Kunark, Master Wu, mobile, Plane of Tranquility, Planes of Power, Quellious, T'Narev

History of the Hand

January 5, 2013 Michael Leave a comment

History of the Hand
A chronicled record of the Hand of Serenity

The History of the Hand – A Gift from the Heavens

During the Age of Turmoil, Quellious, the Goddess of Tranquility, imparted a portion of the Plane of Tranquility to create the demi-plane of Serenity. Where Tranquility goverened the overall state of peace and calm of Norrath, Serenity was created to focus on the personal, inner peace of one’s mind and soul.

At this time, Quellious came to Master Wu the Enlightened, the only mortal at the time to achieve true enlightenment through a lifelong dedication to tranquility. She raised Master Wu to demi-god status and charged him with the stewardship of the Plane of Serenity and to serve as her emissary of Peace.

Then the invaders to the Planes of Power came. The lesser planes began to blink out of existence as their energy was needed by the greater planes to withstand the assault of the power-hungry mortals. With heavy heart, Quellious came to Master Wu and told him the energy of the Plane of Serenity was needed by the Plane of Tranquility in order to survive and that she would have to reclaim it. Wu knew that this had to be, but asked Quellious for just a small portion of the energy that he may create a planar artifact to further the case of Serenity among the mortals. Quellious agreed to this and Wu set to work.

Master Wu created the Hand of Serenity, a special katar made of five blades. Although it functioned as a weapon, its purpose was much more as a teaching device than an instrument of destruction. Each of the five blades represented an aspect of Serenity and had its planar symbol etched onto it: Peace, Order, Balance, Harmony, and the central, great blade Tranquility. With just an expert’s touch, the five blades could fly open like a fan to demonstrate each individual concept, or swing together to form one harmonious and stronger blade.

Master Wu took the Hand of Serenity and descended to Norrath in order to bestow it upon mortals. He entrusted the blade to the monks of the Ashen Order at their refuge in T’Narev and instructed them that they were to champion the cause of Serenity. They must be the teachers of the world.

The Hand of Serenity was protected by the Ashen Order from generation to generation, used in teaching and instructing in the matters of peace and serenity. It wasn’t until the Battle of Defiance at the closing of the Age of War when the Hand would be carried into battle to fight alongside the forces of good. During the raging battle, the Hand of Serenity struck the Avatar of War with such cosmic force, the katar shattered into its five blades.

Following the great clash, the elders of the Order realized that Serenity was truly missing from the world. They decided that to best spread the word of Peace, Tranquility, and Serenity that they would each take one of the five shattered blades and go out into the world to spread the word of Quellious. They designated a time when they would all come together once again just as the blades would when they were whole. However, when that time came only one of the elders would return to the humble walls of T’Narev. That elder would set out again to the lands of Kunark to find the others. He was never seen again…

mobile, Planes of Power

Planes of Power

December 30, 2012 Michael Leave a comment

The Gathering In The Fog
A group of robed figures cuts through the dense fog that fills the corridors surrounding the library. At this hour, the night air smells of fog and the harbor that cradles the immaculate white city. Another gray-clad shape emerges from the portal, silhouetted by its blue luminescence. The figure glides down the stairs and nods at a passing sentinel as he makes eye contact and smiles. He then quickly makes his way into the structure that stands before the portal. The carved marble sign mounted to the wall of the structure is legible in the faint blue light: “Temple of Divine Light.”

The robed group stops before the temple’s gold-inlaid door, waiting in silence. The fog and the faint blue glow turn them into ghosts, haunting the temple hoping for some word of release. Release and salvation are thoughts that ride through the air tonight, but our figures are not thinking of themselves.

It isn’t long before the scene is shattered by a burst of candlelight as the temple door opens. Figures in the doorway bow quickly to each other, and the gray robed individual steps back into the corridor. His eyes meet those that lie just below the cowls of the gray robes that stand before him.

“It is time for us to begin,” he says in a voice almost as featureless as his face and garb. “They have annotated the locations for me on the map. Our journey begins once the others are informed. All of you, be cautious but quick.”

The hooded apparitions nod in response, in almost perfect unison. The speaker’s hands quickly articulate, calling into existence a small, shimmering blue star. The star blinks and expands, becoming a sparkling ring framing what looks like a picture of another place. The figures step through the portal, their gray robes seeming out of place on the green grass of the picture they have become part of.

A brief blue glow is all that remains moments later, and it quickly fades. As a roaming sentinel walks around the corner, the air finally settles. She tilts her head in the hope of catching the noise again. She could have sworn by Prexus that she heard someone recite a phrase that will only carry meaning much later in her life

“May the Name find a tongue and may the Balance be met ”

The Rainkeeper
Karana sat quietly contemplating the recent turn of events. His head and his heart had been tormented for some time, mulling over the possibilities that lay before him. He had largely avoided directly affecting the destinies of mortals in the past. Even the influence of Bertoxxulous on his namesake plains on Norrath did not draw any action from the Rainkeeper. This is somehow different though. The influence of the pantheon has already reached far beyond any bounds they reached in the past. But of course, the birth of a new demi-god would have that effect. Karana could feel the inevitable tugging at his being toward intervention. But the Rainkeeper does nothing out of reflex or rage. This problem must be meditated upon before any sort of action could be taken, and time was something he had plenty of for the moment.

Karana called out to his faithful servant Askr. Askr had been Karana s companion ever since he washed up on the shores of Larquin in the Plane of Storms. It was rare that a mortal would survive any sort of terrestrial storm that was strong enough to open a rift to the realm of the Rainkeeper. Rarer still that he would retain his mind and body so well as Askr had. He remembered little of his existence on Norrath, but knew the name of the Rainkeeper and had served him well over the last hundred years. Karana handed Askr a great medallion. He hated to distance himself from Askr this way, but there was no other way to achieve the state of deep meditation that he would need to see the ramifications of his decision. Without a word Karana raised his staff into the air and summoned down a great lightning bolt. The Rainkeeper disappeared in a blinding flash, leaving only Askr standing silently at the base of the towers of the Bastion of Thunder.

Askr stood there for a moment quietly and looked down at the medallion in his hand. There can be no good to come of this, he whispered. He then turned to look up at the raging winds surrounding the Bastion. They already seemed to swirl faster, unbridled by the presence of the Rainkeeper.

Karana entered his study quietly and sat down on a large oak chair. His meditations had not gone well thus far. The rifts to the mortal realm that had been created settled heavily on his conscious, clouding his clairvoyance and darkening his insight. The future was entirely unclear to him for the first time. He found it unsettling. He stood and walked over to the shallow pool in the center of his study and felt the stiff breeze and cool rain that blew in from the open ceiling. He sat down in the quiet water and drifted slowly into a fitful trance. His mind drifted at first slowly across the dark clouds that hid the future from him, but gradually picked up speed as his senses grew accustomed to navigating the darkness. He drifted through the clouds now at a blinding pace. Visions of the past raced by, partially hidden by the darkness of the clouds, mixing endlessly with portraits of the infinite futures that might exist. He could feel himself losing some of his control on the path he was taking. He tried to slow his descent into the darkest parts of his mind but found himself hurtling ever faster into the infinite darkness. He looked down, trying to focus on something, anything discernable from the chaotic swirl of his memory. Finally one thing began to coalesce from the swirling storm around him. First the outline of a single pair of eyes, then a nose, then a great white beard solidified before him. The enormous face began to laugh as Karana s consciousness started to understand the vision below him. Just as recognition met with consciousness the great face flew up and consumed the screaming essence of Karana s mind, leaving nothing but the jaded, sneering face of Agnarr behind

Burglaries in the Night
The cities of Norrath are so varied in beliefs and populace that they rarely find a common relationship outside of the bonds that seem to eventually bring all things that walk upright together desire, deceit, and conflict. As the morning climbed its way across Norrath it brought with it a message, a message that would affect individuals in a manner that unified them for a brief, fleeting moment.

One of those individuals was a rogue. He was discovered hiding atop an air duct in the Library Mechanimagica. The Eldritch custodian found the Human thief among the littered remnants of a hurried, but very precise search. His insistence that he was not responsible is contrary to his inability to describe the person he claims to have seen looting the place. His apparent surprise that someone would break into such a place only to remove a book or two join him to others that have made similar claims this day.

In Cabilis, the Keepers Grotto is discovered in a similar state, as is the Great Library in the City of High Men and Knowledge. These are not the only locations. In every city, on every continent, scholars and keepers of lore find themselves speaking to their sentries and servants in the hope of garnering an answer. All they find is that as words and whispers travel their questions become more complex, leaving them to explore a web of intricate, yet nebulous possibilities.

The select few will only recall one blurred memory of an oddity. For some it will be a faint recollection of a conversation with a face whose features they can’t recall. For others perhaps it will be a brief discussion about books, or libraries, or a place that might hold some ancient piece of lore. The only thing that seems to stick is an image of a figure, or maybe it was several figures, with faces without features and clothing without adornment. Each the antithesis of memorable, participating in an exchange that left a residue in the mind like a name you can’t recall.

The only thing that any of these individuals can remember is that they spoke to someone who mentioned that time was short and that the person was dressed almost entirely in gray.

Scorn of Drunder
The hulking figure brooded silently over a table piled high with arcane maps and cryptic diagrams. An unnatural red fire blazed in the great stone brazier in the center of the circular room. Shadows danced on the walls, and the figure’s silhouette seemed to flicker back and forth between the shape of a massive, armored man and that of a brutal, four-legged beast. His thick fingers drummed the handle of a giant flaming axe that hung at his side; his jaw tensed and he ground his teeth.

“Why, Tallon?” he growled.

A smaller figure near the open doorway flinched slightly, rattling the mighty war bow that hung on his back against the wall. “The one I spoke to,” Tallon began, steeling his voice with false confidence, “he – well, he blamed the delay on the interference of a group of mortals.”

The fingers that drummed the flaming axe stopped. Silence filled the room. The fire ceased to crackle and its warmth retreated, leaving the room suddenly cold. Tallon felt the other’s eyes, two pinpricks of blue flame, boring a hole through him.

“I do not understand why we rely on the help of these fools!” Tallon finally blurted out. “The Diaku requires no assistance to complete our goals.”

In a flash, his protests were silenced as an invisible force lifted and snatched him from across the chamber. Tallon squirmed before the hulking figure, his throat locked in a grip of iron.

“We use them because I dictate it,” replied the figure calmly. White-hot arcs of flame erupted from his fist and seared Tallon’s face, leaving blistered trails across his cheeks and lips. “Now,” continued the figure, “you will take care of this personally. I will accept no further delays.”

Tallon struggled to speak. “I will father ” he choked out finally. The clenched gauntlet at his throat relaxed and Tallon crumpled to the floor, gasping.

“Get out of my sight.”

Tallon struggled toward the doorway. As he crawled out into the adjacent hall he looked back at his father.

He was again studying his maps. With a casual wave of the figure’s enormous hand a stone slab slammed into place, sealing the doorway.

Contemplation
Fahlia silently sat on the ocean’s edge. The aurora danced with its reflection, giving the horizon a mesmerizing effect. The rhythmic sounds of the shore and the smooth whir of the windmill’s gears gave the aurora the music it needed to make the scene complete. Yet, even with a scene as meditative as the one that moved before her, Fahlia’s mind continued to race.

Conflict and conspiracy have always existed. However, the scale and nature of what was transpiring proved to be very unsettling. There was some reassurance in the knowledge that their efforts had paid off so far. Other than the trip to Kaesora and the assault on the Libraries of Chardok, they had experienced very little opposition while collecting materials for the elders. This was partially due to the fact that so many people were collaborating with them. Fahlia found it hard to fathom that so many people were looking for the same answers. It was even harder to believe that these people were willing to risk the same punishment should they be discovered.

The elders and scholars were working at that moment to decipher the documents that had been gathered. Perhaps those tomes and texts would give them some insight, some clue about what they should do next. For now, she could only wait for her next assignment and hope that destiny had some plan for them. Fahlia couldn’t help but wonder if he was out there, watching them with some understanding of the tale that was about to unfold.

Just as that final thought filled her mind, a voice disrupted the peaceful scene.

“Fahlia, the elders have called for us again. It seems they have located the last four. We must move to meet them at once.”

The speaker’s voice was unnaturally deep for someone with such a diminutive stature. He reached out to help her to her feet and added, “You’ll be needing some extra cover to take with you, lass. It’s quite cold where we’re heading.”

Shadows & Decay
The feeling of revulsion worked its way through the messenger’s body and made its presence known in the form of a stammer. The fact that he could speak at all could be attributed to the powerful warding spells and protective runes that covered his body. They glowed brightly beneath his robe and seared his flesh as their magic expended itself. The messenger prayed that this conversation would end swiftly. Should the protective magic falter and expose him to the horror that he felt moving in the air around him, he would surely rot instantaneously.

“Speak with haste, lest you wish to be consumed on the spot. I am confident that my rending of one of his curs would do little to change our arrangement. What do you think, wretch? Would your master mind if I sent you back to him in a pail?”

The grotesque entity spoke with a voice that mocked the mortal tongue. Its voice spewed forth, as if the words would cause the listener’s ears to fill with a rotting liquid. Each word was coated in filth.

“No Suh Sire I am nothing and no one. I am merely a vessel for the word of Innoruuk. My liege has sent me to you with a message,” the young courier said, as his pallor grew more apparent.

A hand extended from the shadows and pointed its rotting finger at the courier. The voice sloshed forward from the darkness again, “Then deliver your message, wretch before your master is forced to send another.”

The trembling messenger dropped to his knees and began to convulse. The symbols covering the Tier ‘Dal’s flesh glowed brightly and began to dance in the filthy air of the room. The symbols slowed their pace and began to gather in front of the massive rotting god. They shifted and aligned until they read like an ethereal piece of parchment.

The room grew silent, as the hulking figure contemplated the symbols’ meaning. Then the silence was quickly broken by a roar followed by the swing of Bertoxxulous’s great rotting arm. Both the symbols and the messenger were swatted and sent flying though the air.

“Am I expected to be concerned with the meddling of mortals? This problem has already been dealt with. Nothing can change what has been done! Leave this place and tell your master that I will have no more talk of this matter!” the creature roared at the slumped figure.

As the messenger ran from the room he could hear the words being shouted again, “Nothing can change what has been done!”

The Meeting
The murmuring voices in the room propel Fahlia’s memories back to her first frigid meeting with the drakes near the massive temple in the wastes. She remembers her awe at the power of the place that could produce creatures learned enough to open rifts that reach beyond anything most mortals could comprehend. Perhaps the drakes would be protected from the fate that has befallen many of the island’s inhabitants, she had thought. It was impossible to tell if the portals were harming the channelers, or if the gods were showing their first hints of retaliation.

“Time has accelerated,” announces the elder over the din. “Uncertainty, fear, anticipation, and now this . Perhaps the bounds have been overstepped. Now, the answer is hurtling toward us with no regard for our ability to face it. We cannot turn back!”

Fahlia sits listening with the young bard’s head cradled in her lap. His face is flushed; drops of sweat collide and form a stream as he convulses in pain. Fahlia’s mind is focused on the elder’s words, but her heart stays with the tormented young man in her arms.

“Once the portals are opened, our fates will be locked into place. No one can predict what may happen from this point. The memories of our efforts may soon fade, our legacy buried beneath the blowing ashes of a mortal miscalculation. Or the heavens may find themselves ablaze, engulfed in the power of their own creations!

“We may never find the answers we seek. The canvas of reality may burn and tear. Yet, we must move forward! It is the only direction left for us to follow. We will find the One Teacher. Question not the wills of those who shall soon come to walk with us, but be mindful of the possibility of treachery and watch their every action. It should not take long to spot the fellowship that we seek, for soon the heroes of prophecy will walk within our ranks

“Now go and prepare. Soon the morning mists will lift to reveal the portals to a new age. The Age of Balance is nearly upon us.

With this, the elder walks from the large room and allows it to return to being an infirmary for the casualties of the new age.

The Book and the Pedestal
The night slowly pulls its face from Norrath, leaving only the dewy residue of its dark kiss. Creatures scurry to find a shady resting place to wait out the day, and the inhabitants of all the cities of man awaken. It will be hours yet before these cities become fully aware of their newest landmarks, the portals in the form of stone pedestals that litter the face of Norrath s landscape.

Most days begin, fade, and end, all part of the slow blur that makes up the common life. Sometimes a clear path will present itself and lead its follower astray from that common life. This path comes to its traveler in a variety of forms: the magic in a child’s first book; the promise of a couple s first glance; the hero’s first step into the dank mouth of some forgotten cave. All these things can break the blurry cycle of the day and yield adventure

This morning will present to the citizens a new path, a path in the form of a portal–a path that will forever change their lives.

Everquest Lore, Maelin Starpyre, New Tanaan, Planes of Power

EverQuest Atlas – Maps of Myrist (Beyond the Elemental Planes)

November 11, 2011 Michael Leave a comment

The third tier, the Great Gods of Elemental Power, comprises the most revered and unknown of our divine watchers and creators. They are gods of the gods, beyond our comprehension and reach forever – for even the deities of Nature and Influence are without explanation or thought as to these beings’ meaning and existence.

However, there is possibly yet another tier, one previously unknown to us. This recent discovery – or assumption – is quite possible, for the infinity that is divine inhabit is far removed from our collective comprehension. What strikes interest in this possible tier – one that may perhaps be above those Elemental Power – is that there are no records of its existence here in Myrist, which is occurrence to be most respected and also held in dire concern. The possibility of a new manifestation previously unknown to mortal ideals of the cosmos in an exciting prospect indeed, but it is as deadly as it is intriguing. We know little of this new tier’s purpose, for only in recent times as it manifested a presence accessible through mortal venture – but we hold a grave concern and constant watch for the unexpected because of it.

Be warned, my reader – my friend – for nothing good can come of this realm’s manifestation when one places its appearance in conjunction with the chaos to enshroud us in the recent area. Many from New Tanaan have gone to investigate, to learn more to store within Myrist for others like yourself to experience in the safety of the library walls, but none of these scholars have returned since their leave of us. I highly stress that ye not venture onward in search of this mysterious presence, for such a quest will lead only to unfathomable and dire consequences of an immeasurable proportion.

If you must feed your thirst for conquest, battle and adventure that lies beyond primal reaches of our known universe, then I may only give you my blessing and sincere hope that the fates shall be tender in their watch over your journey. I hope that you may glean something that is not written here – perhaps another grain of sand in the endless sea – but I shall not place faith upon your return, or hope upon such a priceless discovery.

An endless road of countless possibilities lies before you within these pages. You may seek to venture and learn where I have fallen short, or you may choose to use this information to your advantage in a personal quest for power or a place at your own deity’s side. Again, I have relieved myself of all responsibility to come of these works, and know that you venture forward from this point on through your own accord and convictions, and no others.

~ Maelin Starpyre
Grand Librarian of Myrist

Eternal Battleshrouds, Everquest Lore, Flateye Lake, Fridleif Vernund, Frostcrypt, Giant, Gidgund Winds of Lasting, Gnoll, Harfange the Black, House Dromrek, House Fridleif, House Harfange, House Thorsson, Huldan, Icefall Glacier, Iddugind Seal, Karana, King Beltron Wulfnor, King Cadwall the Victorious, King Haruld the Young, King Odeen Wulfnor, Kobold, Kresgord, Krithgor, Krithgorian, Librarian Hemfar, Lorekeeper Baeldon, Loreseeker Yrgar, Malgar, mobile, Odeen, Odeen Wulfnor, Official Website, Orc, Past-Breath Yukadig, Plane of Earth, Planes of Power, Pruglar, Rallos Zek, Rallosian Army, Rathe Council, Serpent Spine Mountains, Shades of Zek, Solusek Ro, The Shade King, The Steppes, The Wings of War, The Wraithguard, Valdeholm, Vundenclag Blessing, Woijuh, Wulfnor Gem, Wulfnor Olaffun

Into the Depths of: Frostcrypt

October 1, 2011 Michael Leave a comment

Part 1 – Overview of Frostcrypt

Overview of Frostcrypt, Throne of the Shade King

When Solusek Ro raised the Serpent Spine Mountains, one clan of hill giants was trapped in the valleys and marshes that were created between the sheer mountains. The vast mausoleum of Frostcrypt was carved into the ice and stone of the mountain on Icefall Glacier, built to house the honored dead.

The giants of Valdeholm have always revered their dead. Kings, queens, soldiers, priests and even common folk were buried in the great crypt, carved out under a frozen lake. Giants live long lives, and in the days of their dominance they had little need for open battle, so deaths were few. Each time one of their kind passed on, they were given rites by the priests, fitted with attire appropriate to their station, and placed upon a litter. They were then carried down to the tomb by a procession of mourners and priests. The procession arrived would stop at the statue of Rallos, then move on to the appropriate wing of the crypt. The body was laid upon a stone table along with any appropriate tools needed in the afterlife (weapons, trade tools, etc.) Then the family would walk past the body and place with it any other items that they wanted to travel with their loved one.

After resting in state for three days, the body would be placed into a slot along the wall of the crypt and a metal nameplate would be affixed to remind every one who was resting there.

Then came the curse of Rallos Zek cast upon his own giants because they refused to participate in his war on the Plane of Earth. When King Beltron Wulfnor—the king who turned his back on the war—was being taken into the tomb, the voice of Rallos Zek was heard. The dead king’s body rose up and attacked the procession. As each person slain, they rose again as Shades of Zek and turned on those that still lived. Few survived that day, but the current king—Odeen Wulfnor—was one of them, and he will never forget that evil day.

The upper portions of the tomb are damaged from the battle and other battles since. The royal areas remain untouched by battle because even the undead giants hold their royalty in high esteem.

The undead have added on to the tombs in an attempt to make it feel more like a home. These sections are made purely from ice, though in all other respects look just like the architecture of the rest of the tomb.

The front portion of Frostcrypt is hewn of ice and seems worn and basic. Deeper within Frostcrypt is the home of the Shades. The Shades are frustrated and tormented by the curse put upon them, built onto Frostcrypt, attempting to create a new city for themselves—to do what they can to feel normal. They feel their curse will end, once they kill the remaining traitors to Rallos Zek—all of their kin in Valdeholm.

Stone tiles cover the ice in most places. The only exceptions are where they have been damaged by battle or where the giants built beautiful skylights in the roof. These skylights use magically clear ice to transport sunlight into the crypts, lighting the tables where the dead are laid out to rest in state before entering their final resting place.

Currently the Shade King rules the crypt. His followers are the Shades of Zek and the zombie minions made from the corpses of their ancestors. The Shades sent war parties to assault the city every evening, and hide within the crypt during the day. No living giant has set foot inside the tombs since the day the curse turned their king into the Shade King.

Harfange the Black

As the first and most respected leader of the Krithgor giants, Harfange was a force to be reckoned with. His stature was greater than most giants and his gruff, booming voice made him easy to rally around in battle. Woijuh, his trusted, loyal wolf, was always by his master’s side and followed him faithfully into every fight.

Harfange was a righteous giant with an unwavering belief in justice. He was the loudest proponent of battle prowess and skill, all the while supporting the magic and politics required to build and run a city of somewhat unruly warriors. Easy to trust, the giants took to following his lead easily. Under his reign, Krithgor was built—a great city and monument to giants which was later overrun by all the races of the Rallosian Army — something House Harfange took great offense to.

A New Ruling House – Fridleif

When King Haruld the Young of House Harfange died in his first battle, there were weeks of ceremonies in his honor. He was praised for his bravery and skill, for he had defeated overwhelming numbers during the battle against the gnolls encroaching on Krithgor. However, one giant was not sorry to see his cousin go: Fridleif Vernund, head of House Fridleif, had spent more time celebrating than mourning, knowing he would soon be called to compete for the throne.

Fridleif was known to be cold-hearted and calculating. His ability to completely ignore the emotions that could drive others to distraction was what made him powerful. He easily took control of the rituals of ascension, fighting only three battles to earn control of the kingdom and gain his seat on the throne. There was never any doubt that he would be the one to start the second lineage, though it is widely accepted that this common belief was created as part of his own subtle plan to rule.

Ascension of Wulfnor

As time passed, kings changed. Each heir-apparent fought others for the right to ascend. When King Cadwall the Victorious of House Fridleif died when his brother led an uprising against him—which got them both killed—the lineage of the throne came into question once again. Many Krithgorian giants were relieved that new blood would be brought to the throne because the wars of the bickering brothers had taken its toll on them all.

Among the giants, there was an almost unilateral hope that the great gladiator, Wulfnor Olaffun, would fill the great throne in Valdeholm. For many years, Wulfnor proved himself to be an outstanding negotiator and motivator of the people, even when their true rulers were not. He managed to forge a calm in a city that had begun to divide itself between the brothers.

Wulfnor was the thread that held the giants living in Krithgor and Valdeholm together. An elder loreseeker by the name of Pruglar nominated Wulfnor, something which had never been done. Not a single challenger to the throne stepped forward to challenge him for the crown, and thus, Wulfnor and his house became the next rulers of the Krithgor giants.

Part 2 Additional Background Lore

Muddy Royal Scroll – Letter to Odeen Wulfnor, King of the Krithgor

As translated by Librarian Hemfar:

Letter to Odeen Wulfnor

My son. My heir. The hour of my passage into the void grows ever nearer. I have high hopes for the afterlife. Never fret or weep for me, but do learn something from my years as King Beltron Wulfnor of Krithgor. As my last breath leaves me, the crown will become yours to bear. Wear it well, my son. There is no greater example of Rallosian courage and strength than in you

There is much to tell you in so little time, so pay heed. I must explain why I commanded our Krithgorian giants to stay behind when Rallos Zek mounted the second assault upon the Plane of Earth. You have asked me many times to explain how I could dare defy the Warlord. Now I shall.

Before our first passage into the Plane of Earth, the noble House Dromrek sent a guide to me, the gifted Loreseeker Hadengard. He beheld the Prophecy of The Tears, which simply stated:

“And from great sorrow one tear from nine. A tear of ruin.”

There was much interpretation and debate around those simple words. Many days. Some felt the word “tear” would mean the ground would be ripped open to swallow the Rathe Council as the Rallosians overcame them. Others felt it meant a wet tear from the eyes of the Rathe Council would fall across the realms to Norrath and our giants to see our ruin. There was no settling of the debate, so I made a decision.

In the event the Rathe Council and its minions defeated the Rallosian Army and sought to ruin us, our House Wulfnor and you, my son, would need protection to carry on the lineage of the throne and attempt to rebuild. I will admit I sought to preserve my family, but it was also the most logical and wise choice. And so it was decreed: the majority of our Wulfnor House would remain in Krithgor while the rest of our good giants fought onward in the war alongside our Warlord maker.

It was with a great, heavy heart that I watched the throngs of faithful, courageous Krithgorian giants leave that day. My sword arm ached to join them. How the power of the Rallosians had grown in our time on Norrath. The giants showed no fear, only the pride and fellowship we had always known. There is but one prouder moment in this life—the one where you were shown to me as my son.

Heed well this lesson, my son. You can only act on the information you are given, because not all is known. Sometimes, you must choose with your heart and those acts can have consequences you did not expect, but it is your reaction and resolve with the outcome that will make you a great leader. Against all odds and those that hunt us always, we remain.

One day, we may be free and I believe it will be your reign that will see it.

Your father,
King Beltron Wulfnor

Wulfnor Crown Gem — Suspicion of a Krithgor Noble

Librarian Hemfar’s Notations of the Wulfnor Gem:

As I read the crown gem, it became evident that an enchantment exists upon it that might obscure my vision of its past. That said the core of it does not appear to be betraying me. The visions are clear. It is worth remarking this artifact for cultural significance.

The gem reveals a matter of great importance that still plagues the integrity and respect of the royal Wulfnor House to this day. It is a question of blasphemy among the lineage of the kings of the giants. My visions show a recent recurrence in murmurs of blame and discontent about one of their own giants who might have brought them what would seem to be an eternal misery, refusing to lay blame on one of their heroic kings, Beltron Wulfnor.

The crown gem tells a tale that is simply that, however, a tale. The one who wore the crown with this gem was filled with the knowledge of the accusations, but the enchantment seems to be obscuring the actual truth of them.
Huldan, a politically motivated giant within the House Thorsson had long held a rivalry with Kresgord, a same-aged giant favored among the noble houses, who belonged to House Wulfnor—the house of the ruling king. The two giants grew and trained together. While Kresgord went the way of a loreseeker—the elite magic users of the giants—Huldan chose the life of a warrior. Huldan always held some manner of imagined superiority over his rival, believing the way of magic was a weaker path.

As years went on, Huldan’s competitive rivalry became tainted by a bitterness as he watched Kresgord rapidly rise through the ranks of House Wulfnor and saw himself not advance in his own. Suspecting Kresgord was using nefarious means to get ahead, he took to spying on his old friend. One night, he believed he’d found what he was looking for. He claimed to see something…. and whatever it might have been or wasn’t, it was enough of a tale for him to begin a rumor that would bring thousands of years of suspicion into House Wulfnor.

Huldan claimed he had seen Kresgord in his chambers with his arms around a great scrying bowl. He said that he could see, plain as day, the unmistakable whirl and water of a storm within the pool—the storms of Karana! Huldan flatly accused Kresgord as a worshipper of the God of Storms. He demanded that Kresgord be exiled from Krithgor.
Kresgord denied the accusations wholeheartedly and in the name of his father, the king, charged Huldan with treason. Huldan was neatly executed only hours later.

Even though Huldan’s voice had been silenced, his words lingered on. Many believe that Kresgord did indeed worship Karana and some say there are whispers of winds where Kresgor’s body is held in the Frostcrypt.

Cursed Lorekeepers Quill — The First Shades of Zek

As the war on the Plane of Earth ended, King Beltron Wulfnor began to lose his grip on life. Forgoing the comforts of his palatial fineries in Valdeholm, he spent his last hours in Krithgor. He wanted to spend his last moments near his giants and all the Rallosians who served in the war. He had lived a full life and seen much and was ready to give his flesh and spirit to Rallos Zek and pass the throne down to his son, Odeen.

After spending many hours behind closed doors with his son, the loreseekers were brought to prepare Beltron for his final breath and to secure safe passage into the afterlife. The giants believed that upon death, they would live once again as warriors at their maker’s side. They never feared death because of the honor it would bring them — to stand next to their warlord, Rallos Zek, was something many giants looked forward to.

Finally, Beltron’s last breath escaped. Odeen removed the crown and placed it on his head as the loreseekers blessed him with all the strength and courage of his father. Then the body was prepared for the procession into the House Wulfnor chamber of the Frostcrypt.

Thousands of giants made the march from Krithgor to Valdeholm, the great giant city to the north. Their heads held high, proud that their king would be standing with his god, they marched for hours chanting a war prayer created by the first king of the giants, King Harfange the Black, who was said to have been given it by Rallos Zek himself.

“Svard dor istadd
Alska kerdu vargadrum
Ayx! Ayx!”

And so the giants marched, shaking the hillsides with their booming voices, until they reached the frozen Flateye Lake. From here, only the loreseekers and nobles were allowed to continue into the barrow chiseled beneath the icy lake. From the walls of Valdeholm above, the giants all watched as the loreseekers flawlessly rearranged themselves in a formation to march single file into the crypt. In only moments, the body of the great king disappeared into the crypt along with the procession.

The burial rites were progressing as they normally did when a king died, with many words and blessings, incantations and prayers. Then it happened.

Only one survivor, Loreseeker Yrgar (it was his quill that was found in the Serpent Spine Mountains that this reading was taken from) was able to tell the tale of what he saw in that chamber. His memory remained bewildered and confused by what exactly happened, even though his eyes did not betray him.

As the loreseekers wafted purity smoke over the body of the king, his skin began to darken. The loreseekers continued, but began to look to one another with trepidation. When runes began to burn and curl across the king’s skin, the loreseekers stopped. Something was not right. All around them, the ice began to shed a blue-green vapor. The room seemed to be heating up with no explanation.

Then the voice of a god shook the mountains from the sky to the crypt’s icy core.

“BETRAYERS OF YOUR MAKER! RETICENT FOOLS! A time of war falls upon you and you cower like rats? A lesson will be learned this day and for all your days. You will know and love the endless struggle of war. Unto you shall fall a darkness eternal. You have forsaken your lineage, and so it shall destroy you.”

And with the words of the Warlord, Rallos Zek, still echoing off the icy halls, the body of King Beltron rose from the sarcophagus. Though the war on Earth was so long ago, the god had not forgotten or forgiven Beltron Wulfnor and his family who remained in Valdeholm while the Rallosian Army shed blood. And for that cowardice, Rallos Zek would have his vengeance in Beltron himself.

Beltron’s body was awash in a sickly aqua light. The runes on his body began to glow and as he opened his eyes an eerie blue shone from them. He picked up the axes he was to be buried with and brandished them, holding still for one small moment, surveying the room.

Then it started and didn’t stop. In the wildest blood frenzy ever known, the king cut down every living creature near to him. And as each one died, they too rose to be like Beltron, with aqua skin branded by runes. They became beholden to their god. They became Shades of Zek. It would be their duty to hunt down and kill all of the Krithgor giants, to bring them into their fold. They believe that if they win the war—to kill all the living Krithgor—the curse will at last be lifted.

Still, that day has not come. And still, they continue the hunt.

Shattered Keystone – Krithgorian Burial Rites

An account of the burial ritual of all giants:

Vundenclag Blessing

The Krithgor giants, as a sturdy and somewhat spiritual people, conduct the Vundenclag Blessing as the last breath escapes the body, should time and preparations allow. The name of the fallen giant is contemplated and whispered three times—one to secure the spirit, one to expedite its passage to the next realm, and one to set it on its journey.

Past-Breath Yukadig

The Past-Breath Yukadig is performed on giants who died without the presence of a loreseeker to issue the Vundenclag Blessing. The Past-Breath Yukadig is done by breathing into the hand and passing it over the fallen giant’s mouth to simulate the giving of the last breath. The name is then contemplated and whispered once, simply to send protection to the already departed spirit.

Gidgund Winds of Lasting

Gidgund incense is drawn over the body to strengthen the constitution of the spirit. It is sometimes called Purity Smoke. This must be done by a loreseeker learned in the shaman arts. The smoke must be allowed to settle over the body in order to strengthen its aura. Only a shaman may determine if the aura is completed and encircles the body of the dead. This incense will strengthen the flesh for burial and preserve it.

Eternal Battleshrouds

Each body will be wrapped by war-blessed linens. These woven or crafted pieces must each contain at least one stitch or more of thread used in worn battle armor. This will protect the body and the spirit from damage and danger in the afterlife. All weapons considered essential to the giant’s survival and battle in the next life must be buried with him. At the time the essentials are placed into the crypt, the loreseeker must remove any dynasties required to be passed on from father to son.

Iddugind Seal

Finally, when the process is completed, the body is sealed by a loreseeker through the Krithgorian Evenprayer. This prayer shall never be written and only uttered. It is only known to the eldest of loreseekers whose sole purpose is to perform this prayer. This prayer acknowledges and recognizes the wisdom of the gods and asks for their protection. It is not a prayer to be spoken out of proper turn.

The Wings of War

The houses of Wulfnor, Fridleif, and Harfange are separated into three royal chambers in the Frostcrypt. Warriors and commoners also have chambers in the Wings of War. It is paramount that each giant be laid to rest in the appropriate area. Commoners may be buried in royal chambers if the honor was earned by servitude or loyalty.

Illegible Diary of Lorekeeper Baeldon — War for Earth: The Passing of an Empire

Diary of High Lorekeeper Baeldon

As time passes, memory fades, and some things should never be lost to the ravages of time. So I have endeavored to record my personal impressions of the war that has ended the greatest empire in the history of Norrath.

Unfortunately there are no first-hand accounts to be had of some of these events, for those that participated are unavailable. Many are dead. Those that still live have been struck witless by the gods that they opposed. Only the victors can tell the tale and they are now beyond our reach even if they wished to speak of it. Of course there is one other, but he has sworn a curse upon those of us who stayed behind. So this must be a personal accounting with opinion and thoughts accounted as truth.

Our World

Prior to the call, our valley was our own small empire. Every creature in it belonged to us. We lived in a city we named after ourselves, spread casually about the southern steppes. We had orcs mining ore, kobolds and gnolls hunting for our food and goblins to serve our every need. But our defenses were our own. Even in times of peace when there were no worthy foes we were ready for war. We dreamt battle and awoke to practice war, even if we only found use for it in dreams.

Decades passed that way. We went from young eager conquerors to resolute guardsman over a limited and passive empire. Many prayed to Rallos Zek for a war to fight. While some of us were praying for war, the ogres who lived to the south, nominally free though paying us homage, disappeared overnight.

The Call – War for Earth: The Passing of an Empire Vol. II

The loreseekers heard it first. They told us of the battle that the ogres brought to the Rathe Council. Their complacency had ended in a great war, in wonderful glory. Our loreseekers told us what our god told them, that these smaller, younger, fiercer cousins were shining in the light and power of war while we remained in our valley, rulers over a peace that war had earned us. As our loreseekers spoke about the battles on their pulpit with vast fire in their voices we became hot to join them. For days our forges blazed and our smiths worked tirelessly to produce new arms and repair the old. Our warriors drilled and fought to the death for the glory of Rallos Zek and leadership of our war parties.

When we learned of their failure, we were torn. Most wanted to rush forth and follow their path, to crush the powers of Earth that defeated our tiny cousins. Others thought that to do so would make us seem weak, followers not leaders. What our king thought I can not say for certain. He had been privy to counsel that the rest of us did not know. Some say wise counsel, while others call the high loreseeker council of those days the greatest traitors our people have ever known. Far more often spoken, though always under breath, was that our king had turned coward. Regardless, when the call came, we answered. As one of the oldest Rallosian clans and because of the seclusion of our home, he chose to gather his army at Krithgor for his assault on the other gods.

The remnants of the ogre invaders were the first to arrive. We recognized some of them, though few enough of them returned. For their initiative and ferocity, these were named commanders of the Rallosian army. This was not something we accepted. It was well known that any individual Krithgor could defeat half a dozen ogres, heroes of the previous battle or not. There were fights, many fights. Ogres were killed in single combat by giants many times, yet none challenged those ogres given charge of us by our god, for that was not allowed. Undoubtedly this was the reason our king ordered us to head north in the night prior to the opening of the portal.

The Battle

When the portal opened and the Rallosian Army marched through, we were not there to see it. It must have been terrible to behold: rows and columns of giants, ogres, orcs and even goblins, armor gleaming and blades raised. At their head was the god of war himself, Rallos Zek. His power and their roars would have caused the ground to shake. Their banners, blood red axes on a field of gold, never needing to dip to enter the massive structure that transported them to the Plane or Earth.

Bone and stone collided in the Planes of Power. Axes cleaved wooden limbs and hearts were pierced by branches and shards of stone. Bodies of all sort littered the field and the Rallosian army pressed on. They knew no fear and their tactics were perfect as they followed the orders of their god. The defenders knew the lands better and had the power of their gods and the plane itself behind them, and yet they fell back.

We do not know what turned the tide, but we are certain it turned. Days later, our scouts saw the Rallosian corpses flung from the portal. Before they had thudded to the ground, the living remnants of the army came through the portal, Rallos himself the last of them. Great stone hands reached through into our realm, resting on the edges of the portal as if to hold it open for the hordes of earthen elementals and other beasts that flooded through in pursuit.
These pursuers were weaklings and relatively easily defeated, though they did some damage to our ancient home, Krithgor. It was as if the powers of earth did not wish to pursue, for shortly the elementals ceased to pass through the gate. Then those massive fingers began to clench, cracking the portal and causing its magical light to crackle. Before it pulled the portal down, shattering it forever, we heard the words of power; we saw the force of those words enter the valley.

The Aftermath

After the war was lost, the curse of the gods was revealed. We watched as those of our kin that had heeded the call of our god turned into simple beasts. They retain their penchant for war, it is what they were created for, but they have lost their ability to understand it. Still, these were beasts we could understand and once again tame. We began to reclaim our small empire, rebuilding upon the ruins of the last. We were bitter then, angry for failing our god and arrogantly believing that if we had joined the battle the war would have been won and the terrible curse prevented.
But our anger was not enough to satisfy the god that we had willfully scorned. He came to us just ten years to the day after the portal was crushed and his loyal followers cursed by the other gods. He proclaimed upon us a doom that we could not avoid, one that he promised would be more painful and enduring than what the joined gods had done to his followers. His proclamation, heard by every one of our people regardless of their location at the time, was thus:

“Unto you shall fall a darkness eternal.

You have forsaken your lineage,

and so it shall destroy you.”

We were all filled with dread. For decades we worried, bringing terror to us all. After time, some speculated that this was the fullness of the curse, that we should suffer fear of his wrath until the end of time. When another decade passed and we remained untouched by any unusual happenings, we began to relax. We had regained control of our world and almost forgotten the recent past when king Beltron died and everything changed.

Runed Sash of the Wraithguard — The Founding of the Wraithguard

The Krithgor giants hold the greatest regard for their ancestors and heroes, a fact which made Rallos Zek’s curse upon them so painful. In the blink of an eye, the majority of the Krithgor heroes were slain and turned to Shades of Zek when King Beltron Wulfnor rose from death and became the first Shade.

Then, when the Krithgorian ancestors and honored dead began to rise and attack the living, they were faced with a moral dilemma. To disturb the dead and kill their own heroes was unthinkable, yet they did not want to give themselves over to the shades either.

Many believed that it would be best to allow the Shades of Zek to take them. They had dishonored themselves by abandoning Rallos Zek when he called to them and it was a heresy of the worst kind to disturb the dead. Most did not know what to do. Each night the Shades would come and destroy many of their kin. They knew soon they would all die and join the cursed.

But some decided to act. Malgar, a lorekeeper of great foresight, worked to find ways to defeat the Shades, or at least find protection from them. Malgar managed to touch the mind of one shade and learned a configuration of runes that seemed to repulse them.

With some practice and reconfiguration of symbols, some found on the shades’ skin, he created plans to build a runed-carved stone wall to protect Valdeholm from the shades.

While Valdeholm still had some protection, it became clear that these passive defenses alone were not enough. A small group of Krithgor asked Malgar for help to forge weapons and armor that might aid them to kill the shades, and he did so, all with the same runes of repulsion.

Every night, this band of warriors set out to battle the shades and prevent them from passing through the city gates. They called themselves the Wraithguard.

It wasn’t long before word of this group of vigilantes reached King Odeen Wulfnor’s ears. He and many of the leaders of Valdeholm were shocked. Killing the shades, they said, was heresy because they were still considered heroes. Many called for the death of those that went out to fight, but Odeen understood the problem more deeply than most and, after speaking privately with Malgar, ordered the heretics cast out of the city. The king promised to arrange supplies to be granted the Wraithguard, acknowledging that they were all that lay between the shades and the extinction of the Krithgor. But Odeen could not politically support the shade hunters.

The Wraithguard, shunned by their kin, were forced to take up residence in the homes outside the city’s runed wall. The king then decreed that the Wraithguard were no longer to be thought of, they were to be ignored as if they never existed.

The Wraithguard were chagrined, but knew well enough to read between the lines. They knew the king was putting great trust in them, and it was an honored task, though he could and would never say it aloud. They shouldered the shame, though to most of them, there was no shame in protecting their people.

Because of the ongoing threat and the constant loss of Wraithguard warriors, those accused of crimes in Valdeholm that are to be executed are given the option to join the Wraithguard instead. Thus, the Wraithguard gains Houses in the Royal Crypt

House of Harfange the Black – 6 generations

Harfange Gorod
Wife – Yubawa
One daughter – Phrosyne
Two sons – Edmuund, Olof
Pet – Woijuh – a wolf pet, Harfange’s companion during battle
Edmuund
Wife – Gytha
Three daughters – Muria, Luua, Lydyyth
One son – Aelfgir
Aelfgir, the Cruel
Wife – Thyra
Two sons – Thurkill, Egbert
Thurkill – died at a young age, Egbert the Lighthand, took the throne
Wife – Merica
Two daughters – Mualda, Haldis
Two sons – Holfdan, Alof
Holfdan
Wife – Sigris
One son – Haruld
Haruld the Young – died in his early years, before having children. Was betrayed by a royal advisor
Wife – Nuura

House of Fridleif, Master Warcraft – 3 generations

Fridleif Vernund
Wife – Avana
Two daughters – Sirigi, Shimini
Two sons – Havar, Bertun
Havar and Bertun (co-kings) – chose to only conceive one son each, and killed any daughters after birth.
Wives – Londa (Havar) and Beltsea
One son for Havar (Finn) and one son for Bertun (Caldwall)
Cadwall, the Victorious – when both Finn and Cadwall came of age, they were tasked to both lead an army to combat a large orc incursion to the south. Cadwall’s army was victorious while Finn’s army was mostly decimated. Later, Finn later would lead an uprising against Cadwall, which resulted in both of their deaths.
Wife – Avuya (slain during the uprising)
No sons

House of Wulfnor the Gladiator – 5 generations (4 within Frostcrypt)

Wulfnor Olaffun, the Gladiator
Wife – Thice
One daughter – Hulda
Two sons – Eadric, Fratho
Eadric
Wife – Urga
No daughters
One son – Hroar
Hroar, the Unliving
Wife – Audir
One daughter – Haldis
Two sons – Beltron, Ugne
Beltron, the Shade King – current king of the crypt. Note: Ugne, his brother, is the High Priest.
Wife – Gefia – she is dead and already buried inside of the crypt
Son – Odeen
Odeen Wulfnor– current king of the giant city. He successfully escaped the day the curse was unleashed by silently praying

Part 3 Points of Interest

Within the many rooms and corridors of Frostcrypt, several tombs and resting chambers can be found. Throughout the crypt, artifacts and murals of the Zek family hang on the frosty walls.

The majority of the walls within the Frostcrypt are blank, leaving room for new resting chambers to be carved out. The icy ceilings of rooms within the crypt have skylights that allow viewing the lake frozen lake above it.

Main Hall

The steps leading down into the main entry hall from Valdeholm are covered in ice. A lifelike statue of Rallos Zek stands in the center of a large room that splits the main hall to the north and east. Great warriors are buried in the west wing. The north wing is where the common giants are buried. The east wing is where the clergy and councilors are buried.

Royal Resting Chamber

The giants carry their dead through the walkway leading to the central dais, where the king is laid out until the next king dies. The ceiling and walls are tiled with stone.

In the central dais room rests the previous king to die. The sarcophagus of the king is set upright. Behind it is the entryway to the first dynasty’s burial chamber. There are also doorways to the second and third dynasty’s burial chambers, to the left and the right of the first dynasty’s chambers.

The central dais also has a set of stairs that wrap around the circular dais. The stairway leads up to the top of the dais and then back down.

The sarcophagi of the kings in all three chambers are similar except for one notable difference: each king of a specific house holds a different item from the kings of the other houses.

All of the sarcophagi of the family members (wife, daughters, and sons besides the first son) are similar in design to each other – relatively normal looking tombs made of stone.

The small room before each dynasty’s resting chamber is a chamber for their most honored servants. These servants are placed in niches in the walls in the order of their deaths.

Wing of the First Kings

The Wing of the First Kings is the first dynasty’s chamber, the resting place of Harfange the Black. In the middle of the room lies a stone statue of Harfange. He is depicted in blackened plate armor, with the family crest engraved into the chest piece.

The groups of sarcophagi are grouped by families. The first generation of the dynasty is grouped together, and then the second generation, and so on. Artwork within the chamber represents that Harfange was the first to unite all of the giant tribes into one kingdom, by defeating the chiefs of all of the other giant sects.

Wing of the Iron Kings

The Wing of the Iron Kings is the second dynasty’s chamber, place of repose for Fridleif, the Master Warcraft. In the middle of the room stands the statue of Fridleif, his sword held above his head pointing up at the heavens, with shield in his left hand. The kings in this chamber bear metallic dark green shields and metallic silver shortswords over their bodies, signifying their valor in combat.

Wing of the Frozen Kings

The Wing of the Frozen Kings is the third dynasty’s chamber, domain of Wulfnor, the Gladiator. In the middle of the room stands the statue of Wulfnor, with axe in mid-swing. In this chamber, all kings wield a metallic gold double headed axe, held upside down across the body.

Ice Halls

Ice Meeting Hall

The meeting hall is found off of the commoners section of the crypt. As with all the rooms built by the shades, this room is constructed entirely of ice, but shows great care and a skill in its construction. This room is built in an almost stadium seating style. In the center of the room is a raised dais where those speaking to the assembled mass would stand.

Ice Armory

The armory is room is constructed wholly of ice and with great precision. Lining the walls of this room are many weapons racks and armor stands. Most of these still have weapons and armor on them. The weapons within the armory were wielded by the most powerful of the shades when they were alive and have been placed there in honor of their power.

Ice Homes

The homes within the crypt are identical to the cave homes found in the giant city, with the notable exception of being constructed of frozen water. These houses are an effort by the shades to replicate their previous lifestyle while they work towards freeing themselves from their curse.

Ice Temple to Rallos

Found just off the shaman and priest section of the crypt, this large, ornate, octagonal chamber is dominated by an enormous statue of Rallos Zek in the center of the room. The statue overlooks a moderately sized shallow pit that is used for single combat between the giants, which serves as a form of worship of Rallos Zek. Surrounding the pit are several benches used by those watching the fights or attending the temple for prayer. Carvings detail great battles in the history of the giants, but several also show fights between the shades and living giants in the city above.

Ice Council Chamber

The Council Chamber is used to plan attacks on the giant city in an effort to get past the runic wall. Various trophies, such as shields, helms, breastplates and weapons can be found leaning against the walls or hanging on them. The chair at the head of the table is particularly ornate and is obviously used by a leader of the shades during meetings.

Statue of the Shade King

There is a statue of the Shade King on a tiered dais at the back of the room, which serves as a shrine. The room also hosts a secret entrance to a hidden maze.

Ice Maze

The Ice Maze leads to the deeper sections of Frostcrypt. The walls and floors are white ice and very murky, making them impossible to see through. Hidden traps are found throughout the maze.

Shade King’s Ice Chambers

Beltron, the Shade King, is the last of the giants to be buried in the tombs of Frostcrypt. His chamber is reminiscent of his former chamber within the castle except that everything is made of ice, including the royal bed, desk and chair, and other remnants.

Ice Treasury

The Treasury contains ornate chests and relics made of milky ice, as well as replicas of precious treasures from the city including vases, statues and other relics.

Ice “Guest” Rooms

It is extremely rare that the Shades of Zek will have guests; however, on rare occasion they might keep one of their kin alive in order to question them. Even more rarely they might receive a visitor from the dragon shrine. In either case, these often reluctant guests are kept in these rooms behind the maze so that they don’t wander around.

Sources (3 parts): http://eqplayers.station.sony.com/news_article.vm?id=51569&month=072009

http://eqplayers.station.sony.com/news_article.vm?

id=51571&month=082009 http://eqplayers.station.sony.com/news_article.vm?id=51618&month=092009

Drunder, Elder Age, Eriak Zek, Everfrost, Everquest Lore, Giant, Goblin, Korascian Prime, Lake Rathetear, Orc, Plane of Earth, Plane of War, Planes of Power, Rallos Zek, Rathe Council, Rathe Mountains, Tallon Zek, The Council of Thirteen, The Korascian Warrens, Toskirakk, Vallon Zek, Warlord Murdunk

Invasion of Earth

June 6, 2011 Michael Leave a comment

Source: http://eqplayers.station.sony.com/news_article.vm?id=51162

During the Elder Age of Norrath, the first Rallosian forces led by the great ogre Murdunk invaded the Plane of Earth – the realm ruled by The Rathe, Council of Thirteen. Under the command of Rallos Zek, the Warlord, Murdunk was instigated to invade this realm by Rallos Zek’s eldest son, Eriak. The goal was simple for Murdunk – he wanted to prove to Rallos Zek, the Warlord, that he was worthy to lead the forces of Zek throughout Norrath.

A great battle ensued and many guardians of earth perished along with numerous members of Murdunk’s Rallosian army. To their dismay, the invasion was destined to fail because of the regenerating ability that The Rathe possessed. When a member of the Council of Thirteen was slain another would replace it. This gave them great advantage and although many of their guardians had been defeated, The Rathe emerged victorious. Those Rallosians not slain were thrown from the plane by the wards of The Council of Thirteen.

News of the defeat spread quickly across the Rallosian Empire. Such a dramatic failure angered Rallos Zek. He was not content to wait for the heavily scarred and injured Murdunk to recuperate and chose to enlist master tacticians and proven war heroes Tallon and Vallon. Although he was extremely disappointed with Murdunk’s previous failure, Rallos Zek decided to allow him to accompany his horde in this second assault hoping to make use of the knowledge that Murdunk had acquired in his previous battles in the Plane of Earth.

With the power of the Warlord behind them, Tallon and Vallon rallied the legions of children of Zek and entered the Plane of Earth. This invasion was only partly successful – though the Rathelings’ power source remained untaken, the members of the Rathe Council were captured and brought to Norrath, where one of them was executed. Where this Rathe member fell, the Rathe Mountains were raised, and Lake Rathetear formed. The Rathelings were incensed at these brazen attacks, and mourned the death of the thirteenth council member; for one of them to die in Norrath was permanent and irreversible.

While Rallos Zek was unquestionably the greatest warrior ever to exist, he knew little of the inner working of the Planes of Power. Rallos Zek was ultimately scarred and disfigured by the same wards that had banished Eriak and he lay silently regenerating in the Plane of War while the reborn Rathe exacted vengeance on the army’s leaders. As the leader of the ogre nation and Zek army, Murdunk was slain.

To protect their realm from further fruitless attempts at invasion, the Rathe Council placed a curse upon all creatures of Zek. In this they were aided by several other members of the pantheon. The curse spread rapidly through the lush homelands of the giants and froze all of the lands, now known as Everfrost. The curse swept the lands of Norrath, striking any child of Zek that it touched, turning all followers of Zek into lesser beings in mind and body.

Tallon and Vallon, sensing their inevitable demise at the hands of the curse of the pantheon, called out to Rallos Zek to deliver them. Rallos Zek was sufficiently renewed by this time to summon Tallon and Vallon to his plane to escape the curse of the pantheon, but was unable to save the rest of his creations. Realizing that Eriak surely knew of the ward that protected the Plane of Earth and had failed to tell him of it, Rallos Zek brought the crippled form of Eriak before him. Rallos Zek tore from him the essence of warfare, tearing it into its more base elements and imbuing them to Tallon and Vallon, the two mortals who were able to succeed where Eriak had failed.

Eriak still retains a piece of the essence of war in his shattered and disfigured frame, but was banished to the lower levels of Drunder, the Fortress of Zek, to help in the menial tasks of forging weapons for his father’s armies. To this day the great form of Rallos Zek bears the scars from the ward of The Rathe beneath his blackened war armor, a silent reminder of the failure of his only son.

This is a pivotal moment in the history of Norrath. It is here that the forces of Discord plan to strike. Success by the Rallosians would mean that war would prevail on Norrath, and isn’t war a form of destruction, of discord?

The Korascian Warrens

The Korascian Warrens is the key invasion route for the Rallosian forces as they battle their way into the Rathe Council Chamber. This area of the Plane of Earth is adjacent to both the Rathe Council Chamber entrance and the portal to Toskirakk. The bulk of the Rallosian Army is in a siege camp in the northern canyon, facing the entrance to the Rathe Council Chamber.

The Warrens is named for the great frog Korascian Prime, who has guarded the approach to the Rathe Council for centuries. Now he and his minions are sequestered in the west astride the line of the Rallosian advance, battling ill-equipped Rallosian slaves who are sent in to distract the frogs. Many such slaves end up succumbing to Korascian Prime’s mesmerization powers and become thralls.

Korascian Prime’s original lair was destroyed by the Discordians with a great magical disjunction. This left a massive rift in the northeastern limb of the Korascian Warrens, exposing the Plane of Earth’s elemental crystal core, and venting out a new order of crystalline monstrosities which hate all other forms of life.

The Rathe Council Chamber

The Rathe Council Chamber is the original seat of The Rathe beings who govern the Plane of Earth. Its appearance reflects the essence of the powerful beings who rule here. Great stonework vaults linked with tunnels define the interior, which is patrolled by stone golems and guarded by many different kinds of creatures native to the Plane.

The Rallosian Army is attempting to destroy all thirteen members of The Rathe Council to seal Rallos Zek’s dominion over the Plane of Earth as well as Norrath. Should this happen, with Rallos gaining control over the source of the Rathelings’ magic, the balance of power among the gods would tilt inexorably in Rallos Zek’s favor, and Norrath would enter an age of endless disorder and destruction.

Toskirakk

Toskirakk is the original capital city of the ogres and the mightiest bastion of the ancient Rallosian Empire. The slave-mine within is a platinum mine where much of the currency used in Norrath’s future would originate. With the growing dominance of their Empire, few outsiders remain as free people and the slave warrens grow crowded.

Beta Fanfiction, Erudin, Everquest Lore, Miragul, mobile, Odus, Paineel, Planes of Discord, Planes of Power, Winter's Deep

Beta: The History of Miragul

May 31, 2011 Michael Leave a comment

It is rumored amongst most of the intelligent races of Norrath that first came the Dragons. Whether this is fact or Dragonkind propaganda is not important, for which is more vital, the truth or what the truth is believed to be? It is said that thousands of years ago the world known as Norrath was noticed by Veeshan, the great Crystalline Dragon who rules the Plane of Sky. Pleased with the conditions on Norrath , Veeshan deposited her brood onto the frozen continent of Velious. Then, with one swipe of her mighty claws, Veeshan opened several great wounds on the surface of Norrath, thus staking her claim to this promising new world.

Veeshan was not the only being to see the potential Norrath offered. From his Plane of Underfoot, a dark realm of vast caves and endless tunnels, Brell Serilis quietly created a magical portal to a cavern deep in the belly of Norrath. From there the Duke of Underfoot secretly seeded the underworld of Norrath with all manner of creatures. Brell then returned home, sealing his portal within a labyrinthine chamber of mystical Living Stone. It is rumored that the Heretics of Paineel know the location of Brell’s portal and seek to tap its power, but Heretics are tight lipped and rumors are rumors.

Of the Erudites, Necromancy, and the rise and fall of Miragul as told by Aradune Mithara, sometimes historian, more often Ranger Lord, Outrider of Karana.

Over three thousand years in the past humanity was in its infancy. Mankind dwelled in the center of Antonica, spreading out slowly to inhabit the vast and fertile plains of Karana. Villages appeared and prospered, several reaching the size of towns, and two even became cities — Qeynos to the west, and Freeport to the east. Humanity, much to the disdain of the elder races who watched from afar, was strong — it rapidly gained a solid foothold in the world of Norrath and was there to stay.

This is not to imply, however, that humanity was at peace. Early on small groups formed, some linked by similar appearances, others by common goals. Competition was fierce, and when resources grew scarce for one reason or another many groups abandoned the promises and alliances of their past and fought. A few leaders spoke out against the violence, urging the masses to remember why they had fled the cold north. They had broken away from the lands of Halas and their barbarian brothers in the name of peace, and these leaders insisted that humanity adhere once again to those principals to which all had agreed.

Their cry was not totally ignored, and the fighting subsided. Villages were encouraged to trade with one another and to respond to competition nonviolently. An economy based largely on agriculture appeared and the villages and small towns were surrounded by large farms. Most of humanity’s leaders were pleased with this, wanting nothing more than peace and food on every man’s table after a hard day of work. A few, however, wanted more. Even though their people had risen well beyond the standard of living endured by their barbarian brothers to the north, they were not content. Explorers and adventurers returned from afar with tales of elves, dwarves, and other strange creatures, as well as descriptions of ancient abandoned cities. A few even came back with limited knowledge of sorcery and the mystic arts. And when that discontent minority of leaders heard all of this, they became both jealous and determined.

A small, fragile man of great intellect called Erud led this group, and he formed them into a council. They quickly became irritated, even disgusted, by their fellow man. Leaving a small network of spies behind, the remainder of Erud’s followers fled the city of Qeynos and boarded a small fleet of ships. They sailed to the west and landed upon the barren coast of the island of Odus. The land was sparse and uninhabited and quite appealing to the council and their people. They quickly built a city of their own, dissimilar in almost every way to both Qeynos and Freeport, for it was almost entirely a towering castle. Erudin it was called, and within it the scribes and scholars, who called themselves High Men, gathered and analyzed reports, captured books and scrolls, and other artifacts brought to them by their spies. The first human mages were then born – wizards, sorcerers, and enchanters occupied the great halls of Erudin and grew immensely in both power and knowledge.

One of the more adept practitioners of the arts was named Miragul. Unlike and more extreme than the others, he not only abhorred his human brothers on the mainland to the east, but he also grew to hate his fellow Erudites. To him they were both short sighted and narrow. They created schools of thought, categorizing magic into three groups and assigning themselves to three classes: Wizards, Sorcerers, and Enchanters. Miragul found this limiting and thoroughly resented the thought of being restricted to one school of thought or another.

He soon found others who felt similarly. They were a small but growing group of outcasts who often studied forbidden texts and other knowledge generally kept secret from the majority of students. The council was morally and ethically opposed to much of the information gathered afar by their spies. Miragul found that these outcasts not only studied the three schools of magic, but also a fourth. It was called Necromancy and a few lucky spies had returned from a distant underground city (Neriak, it was called, home of the dark elves) with both their lives and also ancient texts describing this art. Miragul was intrigued, and, by using powerful magic, created for himself four identities, four separate countenances and names, and joined all four schools without the knowledge of the council, nor anyone else for that matter.

It came to pass some years later that the council, in its ever growing desire to know all there was to know, both in distant lands and also in its own city, discovered the group of Necromancers. They were branded heretics and great conflict arose. For the first time in several hundred years, the Erudites fought. They engaged in a civil war not entirely dissimilar to that which they had loathed and fled from back on the mainland. But there was one very significant difference – they did not use swords and bows, but rather magic, and the result was terrible. Lives by the hundreds were lost, great buildings and structures destroyed, and eventually the heretics were forced to flee Erudin, to hide and regroup in the southern regions of Odus.

Miragul, being a member of all four schools, was not blind to the implications when the conflict began. He left the heretics before they fled the city, abandoning his fourth identify and siding apparently with the council. But this was only a ruse in order to buy time. He soon gathered every artifact and tome he could discreetly steal and then left Odus entirely, taking a ship back to Antonica and to the city of Qeynos. The lands of men, however, were not only to his dislike, but also filled with Erudite spies. Miragul grew afraid, even paranoid, and soon fled again. He headed far to the north and then to the east, wishing to avoid the barbarians of Halas. After many weeks he found himself near the great lake called Winter’s Deep and he hid there for some time.

While Miragul waited in secret his mind was not idle. He schemed and planned, and looked over every letter of every scroll and tome he had taken from Erudin. Time passed and his understanding and power grew. But he was unsatisfied and a deep hunger for even more arcane knowledge ate away at him. He soon left his hiding place and began to travel long distances in search of more ancient texts and artifacts. His power had grown and confidence overcame his fear of Erudite spies. Once again he cloaked himself in false identity and countenance and traveled the lands of men.
Not far to the south of where his cache of artifacts lay, Miragul soon found another of the new races, the Halflings, and their town Rivervale. The mage feared these small people and their propensity to sneak and to steal, and as his treasures grew in both size and value, he eventually made the decision to move even farther north, and away from all intelligent life. He traveled leagues and leagues, far beyond the range of both Erudite spy and curious Halfling, and eventually came to a vast tundra. This land had no name, and was not until centuries later referred to as merely the Frigid Plain. This frosty and remote environment appealed to Miragul’s heart, for it had grown cold, obsessed with only knowledge and the abstract, and filled with only hatred for others. Creatures with intelligence forced him to be discreet and slowed his acquisition of knowledge and items. He had as little to do with them as he could, only hiding amongst them when absolutely necessary.

Under the icy ground of the Frigid Plains, Miragul created a large network of tunnels and rooms in which to hide and study his collection. He used no labor, but rather deep magic to remove the earth from his way. Room after room, passage after passage, he did create to house his store of artifacts. He split his years, spending one score out in the world, exploring and amassing knowledge and items, returning them to his cache, and then the next dabbling with them, experimenting in one of several laboratories he had created.

Many years passed, even centuries. Miragul grew old, even though he did his best to extend his life using magical means. There was a limit to his enlightenment when it came to aging, and he soon acknowledged that one day even he would die. Only one aspect of death did he fear, and being no longer able to learn and collect wrought him with terror. As his skin grew wrinkled, and his breath short, Miragul’s time was spent less exploring the world of Norrath and more studying the existential. He soon discovered the various hidden dimensions that neighbored his own, the Planes of Power and Discord. He discovered means by which he could traverse these planes, making portals that led between them. But his strength was leaving him, and his journeys into these realities were short and often unprofitable. More and more, his own mortality limited his reason for living, and the specter of death haunted him daily.

The mage’s research into life and death was built upon a foundation he had learned from his fellow outcasts centuries before in Erudin. Necromancy, more than any other art, became Miragul’s obsession. Eventually he discovered a means by which to create portals within his own plane and made them to travel great distances in mere seconds. He traveled back to Odus, to its southern regions, in search of the other Necromancers. Perhaps, he mused, they had unearthed by now a way to cheat death.

The mage soon found that the heretics of Erudin had built a city into a great hole that led to unknown depths beneath the earth. This chasm was apparently the result of that huge civil war from which Miragul had fled centuries earlier. The city, called Paineel, though somewhat suspicious, allowed Miragul to enter and after a time he earned its inhabitants’ trust. Many humored the old man and his claims, while a select few respected him and were willing to trade knowledge for knowledge, power for power. They revealed to him the true power of necromancy, the ability to raise the dead, creating zombies and wraiths obedient in every way to their master. Many of the heretics planned to assault Erudin with vast armies of undead, to wreak revenge upon the council that had exiled and made war upon them in centuries past.

One important aspect of their necromancy interested Miragul, the fact that the undead ceased to age. Their lives appeared endless and the elderly mage knew that he must discover a way to be like them. He feigned interest in the heretics’ goals, learning spells to raise the dead, helping them raise their undead army. All the while, however, he was experimenting himself, hiding much of his research in the small home he was given in Paineel. After some time he discovered that which he had sought, a way to transform a living being, as opposed to a corpse, into the undead. Unfortunately, time was scarce, for he was tired and almost dead himself, his body deteriorating with age, and the heretics were almost ready to make war once again.

Miragul then left Paineel, using a small portion of his dwindling life energies to make a portal back to his cache hundreds of leagues to the north. Upon arrival, he withdrew silently to his most secret laboratory and prepared his final spell. Dreaming all the while of endless exploration and discovery, he slowly made ready his ultimate experiment. The enchantment laced with necromancy was finally made, and Miragul hid his remaining and fragile life within the phylactery, a small device he had pilfered from the other necromancers. Clouds of mystical energy gathered and then dispersed, revealing a shell of the man Miragul once was, an undead mage, what ancient scripts and legends called a lich.

In his haste, however, Miragul had made a miscalculation. The lich, while retaining all the mystical power of his formal self, lacked a spirit. Only the mage’s soul, now locked within the phylactery hidden deep in the cache, retained the ambition and desire to amass knowledge and power. The spiritless lich possessed none of these human traits, and Miragul’s soul screamed in silence as the undead creature began to aimlessly wander his menagerie of wisdom and enlightenment, his rooms filled with artifacts of power.

Reference: http://reality-smiths.com/brotherhood/pact/history.html

Erudin, Everquest Lore, Official Website, Plane of Tranquility, Planes of Power, Temple of Divine Light

The Gathering In The Fog

April 25, 2011 Michael Leave a comment

Reference: http://classic-web.archive.org/web/20020715193037/http://everquest.station.sony.com/power/prologue.jsp

The Gathering In The Fog

A group of robed figures cuts through the dense fog that fills the corridors surrounding the library. At this hour the night air smells of fog and the harbor that cradles the immaculate white city. Another gray-clad shape emerges from the portal, silhouetted by its blue luminescence. The figure glides down the stairs and nods at a passing sentinel as he makes eye contact with him and smiles. He then quickly makes his way into the structure that stands before the portal. The carved marble sign mounted to the wall of the structure is legible in the faint blue light of the portal: “Temple of Divine Light.”

The robed group stops before the temple’s gold inlaid door and waits in silence. The fog and faint blue glow turn them into ghosts, waiting before the temple in the hope of some word of release. Release and salvation are thoughts that ride through the air tonight, but our figures are not thinking of themselves.

It isn’t long before this image is shattered by a burst of candlelight, as the temple door opens. The figures in the doorway bow quickly to each other and the gray robed individual steps back into the corridor. His eyes meet those that lie just below the cowls of the gray robes that stand before him.

“It is time for us to begin,” he says in a voice that is almost as featureless as his face and garb. “They have annotated the locations for me on the map. Our journey begins once the others are informed. All of you, be cautious but quick.”

The hooded apparitions nod in response in almost perfect unison. The speaker’s hands quickly articulate, calling into existence a small shimmering blue star. The star blinks and expands, becoming a sparkling ring framing what looks like a picture of another place. The figures step through the portal, their gray robes seeming out of place on the green grass of the picture they have become part of.

A brief blue glow is all that remains moments later, and it quickly fades. As a roaming sentinel walks around the corner as the air finally settles. She tilts her head in the hope of catching the noise again. She could have sworn by Prexus that she heard someone recite a phrase that will only carry meaning much later in her life…

“May the Name find a tongue and may the Balance be met…”

EQ1 Books, Everquest Lore, Planes of Power, Tarton, Tarton's Wheel

The Wheel of Tarton

April 24, 2011 Michael Leave a comment

THE WHEEL OF TARTON

TARTON HAD A WHEEL
THAT ONCE HE BUILT
TEN SPOKES TO WOOD
BOUND BY A STAR

TARTON HAD A WHEEL
TO ROAM THE PLANES
SHAPED TWICE BY ICE
TO GUIDE HIS WAY

TARTON HAD A WHEEL
THAT ONCE HE LOST
CLASH IN THE SKY
TO EARTH HE FELL

TARTON HAD A WHEEL
WAS SUNDERED PAST
THE PIECES SCATTERED
ACROSS THE WORLD

EverQuest – Lore of Norrath

Category Archives: Planes of Power

The Divine Language

Chronicle of Gromok, Volume I

History of the Hand

Planes of Power

EverQuest Atlas – Maps of Myrist (Beyond the Elemental Planes)

Into the Depths of: Frostcrypt

Invasion of Earth

Beta: The History of Miragul

The Gathering In The Fog

The Wheel of Tarton

A compendium of EQOA lore, Everquest lore, Everquest 2 lore and EQ RPG Lore