21). The Gateway from Dol-Kahn - Inspiring Illustrations - Fantasy Art

21). The Gateway from Dol-Kahn

The demon army of Slent-Moran was lost; Eaten by the clocks of time. Slent-Moran himself, great wizard though he be, could not escape the fate which had taken his legion of soulless men. The cavern he found himself in bled tears of fire, drank magic and offered no escape.

He set his army to carving away the stone, dredging the sea of blood at the center of this realm, climbing toward the vaulting sky which danced with colors he could not see but numbed his eyes and froze the corners of his mind till each thought was hidden in a blizzard of sparking white.

For a time that he could not measure but seemed longer than all the lives he had stolen, he endured. Then in the depth of the blood sea his demons dragged forth the crystal. In its depth Slent-Moran found a way to unfreeze his mind and work a fraction of the vast power he once commanded with ease. The crystal showed him the cursed realm he now inhabited, Dol-Kahn The Chamber in the Void. He saw the league of mortals and demons who had joined together to cast him into this prison and the gods who had formed this place from the torn viscera of a beast strong enough to threaten even them. Its heart had been the crystal and its vast power lingered in its depths.

Slent-Moran lost himself in the wonder of the crystal for an instant or an age; Time did not linger in this prison realm and found that he was not alone. The beast that was the crystal lived within its shifting depth and Slent-Moran thought he had found an allie but in truth the beast had found a slave.

19). Out of the Dark - Inspiring Illustrations - Fantasy Art

19). Out of the Dark

The hallway branches off in a T section as you step inside the entrance to the ruined keep(The entryway is at the bottom of the T). No lights, but lots of cobwebs, and empty sconces where torches once rested. (The sconces alternate left and right down the hall every 20ft and if the 2nd sconce on the left is turned to the left a grinding sound will be heard, a small vibration will run through the floor and the walls, while dust shakes from the ceiling. The 10ft section of wall which holds the sconce will recede about an inch and stop. It is jammed shut. The movable wall will take magic or picks and sledge hammers to take apart. It is an actual thick section of stone wall formed of stone slabs weighing a couple of hundred pounds each and expertly fitted together (damn that dwarven craftmanship) so knocking it apart will probably involve a good deal of time, a slight chance of stones falling on the character and a great deal of noise).

Once the obstruction is cleared a half-dozen skeletons will burst from the dark interior of the room; each armed with sword and shield. The leader still wears a rusty shirt of chain (he is AC4) while the others wear the scraps of rotted leather armor they wore in life but are now of no additional protection. They bear longsword and shield (giving the other 5 skeletons AC6) and do the damage of their weapon unlike their more generic brethren. They will fight to their destruction.

Inside the room (which is L shaped, the entrance through the secret door is at the top of the L and the bend at the bottom sweeping toward the turning corridor at the end of the hall, nicely obscuring what can be seen around the corner of the room) are two long wooden table with benches, a weapons rack with ten light crossbows (only two have not been rotted by a slow dripping leak that has come down the wall from a large crack in the stone roof) and a score of bolt pouches contain bolts, most of which will fly apart in flinders if anyone attempts to use them as the damp and moisture have rotted them as well. A larger weapons rack is against the far wall, but it is empty. Against the wall facing the Keep's entrance is a small iron stove, cold and overturned, while the ventilation pipe hangs from the roof (inside the stove is a solid clump of ash which, if smashed apart, reveals a piece of parchment 3/4 burned revealing 1/4 of the 1st level of the dungeon below).

The floor of the room is scattered with broken bones and rotted leather armor, sundered shields (four are still serviceable, medium shields) and ten longswords with various degrees of rust (the swords are -2 to hit and damage till they have been resharpened).

A short but long cabinet is against the opposite wall from the secret door. Inside can be found the ancient remains of the rations that the men now skeletons ate in life. Once it was home to a nest of rats, now a score of these giant creatures are also nothing but skeletons themselves. They are animated and with the same vicious desire to kill as their once human counterparts. With a wordless squeak they will spring out and in a flow of bony feet attack those in the room. They are 1hd-4 creatures with 2hp each and AC of 7 and 1 bite attack that will do 1hp of damage. If the nest of rotted bones and rations is examined 200 cp can be sifted from the debris. But if this is done a trap door beneath the base of the wormridden boards of the cabinet will be discovered dropping down to dungeon level 1.

Amid the scattered bones on the floor of this room will be seen a black and dried smear of blood leading to the far end of the room and trailing around the corner. If the party approaches the corner, with a light source or some means of  vision in the darkness as the room is a stygian pit, they will notice... (To be continued)

18). Beyond the Forest - Inspiring Illustrations - Fantasy Art

18). Beyond the Forest

Cara Hilan's Daughter left the forest of her kindred to follow a hunt. She would call them animals, but they were men. Bandits, Outlaws, a pack of humans who had abandoned their humanity, to her they were prey. In the lands of men she found many who stood in the way of her vengeance; laws and powers that protected these men; Allies and victims that aided her.

She hunts alone though companions in her quest come and go or fall in the fight. Across the length and breadth of the Flanaess she has traveled; to great cities and seemingly endless wastelands, through ruins and bandit kingdoms, to the far north of icy wastes and beneath the depths of the Oerth to wage battle against her own dark and evil kindred. Her vengeance has become her life. She is a hunter beyond the forests of her home and as lost in spirit as any stray of nature that has wandered into the world of man.

17) Dar-Kal-An - Inspiring Illustrations - Fantasy Art

17) Dar-Kal-An

Dar-Kal-An of the Bloody Hand Orcs is a product of the Empires expansion and its shameful past. Centuries ago the orcs of the southern coasts were no more advanced in the ways of war than their cousins in the far south or on the western peninsula.  They forged crude weapons and armor, fought like a pack of animals and planned no further than which direction to march. The Blind God-King changed that.

With the power of evil sorceries he blended orc and human and turned these mutated creatures into the iron fist of his army. A score of kingdoms fell beneath the studded boots of these monsters but the wasteland of devastation they left behind added nothing to the glory of the Empire and a dark and shameful page in its history.

Today that devastated land is still home to orcs such as Dar-Kal-An. They fight as men, but have the strength and ferocity of ogres. Their smiths and craftsmen forge fine weapons and steel, but what they cannot do their slaves accomplish. The Bloody Empire is what they call the loose confederation of orcish tribes which inhabit the wasteland. They are a constant source of menace to the borders of the Empire and the surrounding lands to the south and east, but though they have been driven back time and again never have they been truly defeated.

Inspiring Illustrations - Fantasy Art - 16

16). The Griffin Invasion

Skylord is wingleader of his pride. For long years they nested among the eastern mountains above the rolling plains where the horse herds ran. Then came the riders of horses and season after season the herds thinned as they were captured and driven to the west. Competition between griffin prides became fierce as the fight for horsemeat became more desperate. Always Skylord was victorious and his pride became a flock.

It was he that first began the attacks on man. The taste was strange and sweet. The danger was great as the horsemen spat thorns and bore sharp claws, but times were now hard among the prides and flocks and there was no other way, and Skylord was developing a taste for this new flesh.

They glided from the mountains and drove the remaining herds before them to trample the horsemen. In the west where the mountains ended were strange small hills of stone and smaller caves of wood. Skylord and his followers descended upon these stone hills and rooted out the horsemen without horses inside, made them their new lairs and nested within. From these low stone peaks they crossed over the land and hunted. They tore open the caves of wood and feasted. This land was filled with many new beasts to eat and horseless men. The cry went out and flyers returned to call to their kind and the mountains emptied. 

Inspiring Illustrations - Fantasy Art - 15

15). The Raid

Bodvar, Heidrek, Hersir and Olaf are the first four over the castle walls into the keep.

Bodvar is an older warrior and leader of this raid. He is a tall mad, as are most of the Norsemen with him. His bear is plaited and white, though some blond can still be seen among the silver. He is an experienced warrior, still strong and quick, but also well trained and skilled with sword and shield. He bears a blade from eastern lands but his shield is plain. His armor is said to have been crafted by dwarves, the links do not rust and they dull the edge of swords as if the mail were stone. His helm is from the south and east. A great captain wore it and Bodvar looted it from his corpse after defeating him in desperate combat. His cloak is made by elves and the pin he wears is of gold that gives him strength.

Heidrek stands behind his warchief. A lifelong companion to Bodvar and is his trusted lieutenant. He is immensely strong though not as quick as his friend. He too is grey and his hair is cut so short beneath his helm that only the tattoo on his skull of a raven in flight can be clearly seen. His axe returns to his hand if thrown, a thing of awesome magic, and his sword glows a bluish light if enemies are near. It always holds a keen edge and never dulls. The helm was crafted for him and always can he see in darkened rooms. No flare of light can blind him or illusion fool his eyes while he wears that helm. He bears no armor except a tunic soft as silk but strong as the breastplate of a Roman chief. His shield is made from the bones of great birds. It is light as a feather and like a feather it causes Heidrek to land if he should fall or jump from a height.

Hersir is shorter than his companions. Once a thrall to Bodvar but long ago he proved his worth and paid his debt of servitude. Now he is one of the Warchief's sworn companions. His hair is dark, the grey just streaking his beard. He is furtive and quick, agile and a shadow in the darkness when he wants. Hersir acts as a scout. First upon the wall and through the door. His spear belonged to Hjalmar, a great man among his people, but he lived long and sat upon a throne when the Raven King called him to die in battle. Bodvar raided his hall and Hjalmar fell to Hersir's knife between the shoulders as he turned to run. Hersir claimed his spear, true and sharp enough to pierce a Dragon's hide. His sword looks plain but at word it will dance before and fight as a battle-brother beside him. His dagger is a terrible weapon said to have been taken from the cold realm of Hel. A cut from the blade can freeze a man in place. It smokes like warm breath on a cold day when it is drawn. His shield was crafted by fire spirits and no touch of flame will harm Hersir while he bears it. His armor is simple padded stuff, but strong as chain and light as a thin shirt. His helm is taken from a mounted warrior chief of the Dumnonii. When wearing it no stone, bolt or arrow can touch him.

Olaf is thin, but wiry and still strong though he is older than the others. He was a boon companion to Bodvar's brother and serves him loyally, but he has heard the Raven King's call and no seeks glorious death in battle. His gear and weapons are simple. His shield is always on his back as he wants the honor of seeing his deathwound and his slayer. His sword, his sword is of great power. It can shear through armor as if it were cloth. It is called Dvergar's Kiss and it sings a song that gives strength to Olaf and all his companions when it takes a life or severs a limb. Olaf does not plan to return from this raid.

Inspiring Illustrations - Fantasy Art - 14

14). The Sorceress of Karn

The banks of the Crystal River stand high during the summer drought. Higher still are the walls of Karn, city of pleasure and delight. Karn has no single ruler. So prolific are the mages, necromancers, sorcerers, wizards and enchantresses within its walls that a parliament of magic presides over Karn and the surrounding lands. The greatest of these wielders of magic is chosen to rule for a single year before passing the scepter (a simple unenchanted iron rod that bears no mark and whose power resides only in the strength that the parliament allows those who have been chosen to bear it).

This year, the year of the Feathered Serpent, the renowned enchantress D'lana has been chosen as ruler, a sign of her personal ability and the growing strength of her guild. While all members of the parliament practice the craft only the most skilled are welcomed among the Dreamshapers, a young guild, but growing with a vitality that many of the old and well-established guilds have lost.

Inspiring Illustrations - Fantasy Art - 12

12). Thurn

The old dwarven fortress, Thurn, lay abandoned for over a century; its gates thrown down and overgrown; its halls ringing empty with the ghostly sound-memories of its past. It had fallen to an attack that came from within and without, from beneath the earth and from the sky. Age old enemies aligned against them. Proud and alone they fell.

The halls were well looted but parts of the mountain fortress were brought down atop the heads of the victors when the final traps of dwarven engineers were sprung and much of the famed treasures, the great hoard of gold, and jewels were buried with the dead in an avalanche of stone. Over the years many came and searched, some found, some died, some disappeared, but most left Thurn emptyhanded enriched only by disappointment.

Then came the Orcs of the Red Dwarf Skull. Twofist Headhammer had been chieftain for a half a dozen years, though he had not counted the passing of time; strength and brutality were his strongpoints, not reflection or thought. Instead seasons came and went and Twofist marked them only by the victories he had won and the heads he had broken, the skulls added to the shamans' story-spears that told the tale of the tribe and gave courage to its warriors.

Each story-spear held a half score skulls, their bony pates carved with crude orcish runes, the sockets for their eyes holding red-dyed stones of wakefulness, ever alert to the approach of foes. Clamped between their evergrinning teeth were the mummified hands of orcish dead; a reminder to all the cost these beheaded foemen had made the tribe pay.  Only the skulls of those who had slain a tribesman in combat were worthy to be added to a story-spear.

Atop the chieftain's spear was the oldest of the fleshless and grinning heads; a thick-boned dwarven skull, yellow as a horse's tooth. It sat alone at the base of the spear-blade, crude black stone that glistened like water and bled rust. It seeped across the ancient dwarven skull staining it a deep brownish red. What runes there might have been on that skull could not be seen, the blood of the stone masked them long ago. No written word was needed to tell the tale of the chieftain's story-spear. The spirit of the long dead chieftain whose withered hand was clamped firmly in the dwarven king's teeth and the spirit of the dwarven king himself would speak when the moons were full and the shamans told the story of the spears danced the summoning ritual before the gathered tribes.

Change has come to the wandering tribe of the Red Dwarf Skull. Twofist heard the call of a great earth-spirit, felt the chilling touch of the countless dead beneath the mountain and claimed the empty halls of Thurn for themselves. He sits upon the broken rock throne of the dwarves and dreams. Soon he will awake.

The Tribe of the Red Dwarf Skull

Chief Twofist Headhammer:

Twofist is a large orc, but more than just big, strong and brutal, he has an instinctual cunning and he is called by something greater than himself. He knows no fear and fights without mercy. He values the lives of his warriors as coin but he is generous with his enemies willing to spend his followers if needed for victory. Now he sits upon the ancient dwarven throne like a miser, hoarding the strength of the tribe while he dreams and what he dreams would shame a dragon. He can sense the wealth buried beneath the mountain, it calls to him, stronger than bloodlust, stronger than the spirit urge to breed, stronger than the ghost-brew of madness given by the shamans. His dreams speak of uniting the orcish tribes that wander, the scampering goblins that infest the nearby caves and hills. He dream of conquest and an army of slaves from the human lands to dig and dig till their bones floor the halls and their skulls pile high as the mountain.

Weapons:

The Chief's Story-Spear

The chief's spear is a magic blade. It bleeds rust and a touch will taint weapons and armor. The taint spreads fast and will affect non-magical weapons and armor after a successful strike causing them to suffer a -1 modifier to hit and damage or a +1 to AC. This accumulates every round till the weapon or piece of armor becomes a useless lump of rust. Enchanted items of +1 or +2 have a saving throw against the taint. A save means no effect and even if the save is failed that taint does not spread on enchanted items, but every strike by the spear will require another save and each failed save adds to the damage that the taint will cause. Items of +3 or with major enchantments are immune to the taint.

Weapons that successfully hit the chief while he carries the spear are subject to the taint.

The spear defends the chief adding a +2 benefit to his AC and radiating a 10ft protection from Good. It is a +2/+4 against dwarves weapon and all orcs who are within sight of it gain +1 to hit.

The tribe is organized is this manner;

Chief

Head-Shamaness (All Shamans are female)

Sub-Chief

Clan Shamans (each keeps the individual clan's story-spears)

Clan Leaders (Currently there are 9 clans within the tribe, most are interconnected families but one tribe is composed of orcs who have left other tribes to join the Red Dwarf Skull tribe. The last clan is composed of a hodge-podge of goblinoid creatures who are allied with the tribe but not actually part of it. They have no story-spear but  do have their own shamans).

Inspiring Illustrations - Fantasy Art - 11

11). The Smoking Mountain

The badlands south-east of the Empire was once a prosperous realm dotted with freeholdings, towns, small cities, manors, fortresses and farms. A curving range of mountains protected its own eastern border; a broad and fast moving river came down from those same mountains in the north and formed a lake which separated it from the dense forests and the wildlands and tribes that dwelt within that leafy demise. To the west the small kingdoms not yet aligned with the Empire posed no threat and the south opened on the Salt Sea.

Then the world shook, the mountain screamed, the sky darkened. Ash fell like snow and a river of fire flowed from the east swallowing all in its path. At first the land died; crops, animals, people, cities, towns and fortresses. None could survive near the mountains, few survived even within sight of the cloud wrapped peaks, now plumed with black and the glint of burning red inside.

Seasons passed, a year, then another. Travelers began to cross the old roads, land at the southern ports, explore the empty and ruined keeps and manors. Farmers returned to the edges of the old lands and discovered fields of grain growing wild and thick, flowers like a cascade of a hundred springtimes, animals more plentiful than had been seen in the east since the legends of the first men who'd discovered the western lands. But though the land flourished it was no longer man's, no longer empty and what had come to claim this flourishing land were creatures that no tale had ever told of, no legend or dream had ever conceived. From the depth of the earth had spewed creatures, things, monsters who now thrived in the open air and bright sunshine. Hunted and danced in the moonlight, wondered at the stars, and now lusted for the world which man had thought of as his own.

Inspiring Illustrations - Fantasy Art - 10

10). The Hunt for Delos Quinn

The Duke of Gillead sends his bailiffs after the notorious thief and highwayman Delos Quinn.

Ganiff Breithem leads his men through the Finnen Woods in pursuit of Delos Quinn who escaped from the cells beneath Heartstone Keep the day before his execution. The party consists of two local foresters as trackers and half a dozen armed baliffs. The foresters are father and son, the father an experienced woodsmen and archer while his son is still learning the trade. Ganiff's men are veterans of both melee and brawl, but none, not even Ganiff himself, are well versed in the use of the bow.

Delos on the otherhand is not a woodsman but knows his way around the crossbow, which three of his compatriots have provided for him. The four have set an ambush just within the entrance to a small glade where the ground rises and spring near the top feeds a small waterfall and pond. 

Inspiring Illustrations - Fantasy Art

9). The Faceless Brotherhood

An unlikely trio of two dark elves and a winged man guard an etheric gateway between the void and the material plane.

Travelers who by choice or by accident find themselves passing from our world through the multi-dimensional planes will sooner or later encounter the Faceless Brotherhood. These creatures, for only some are men or even humanoid at all, have had not only their features removed but also their identities. They have no mouth or ears and their eyes are only pits that glow with a bright light that flares and bleeds colors like a prism of flesh.

Most often they are found at gateways. Offerings of true value, from gems to the true name of a demon or a story or even a wordless song, will guarantee safe passage. At times they will suddenly attack an individual or even a group, at others they will not raise a finger even at the cost of their own existence. On their deaths they burn from the inside out and all their possessions as well.

Upon the nameless, infinite and sometimes unsubstantial planes between one dimension and the next can be found temples, fortresses and monasteries populated by the Faceless Brothers. Patrols and even small armies of them can be encountered, but what they are up to, what plans or goals they may have, are mysteries known only to themselves.