Series Two: Races of Lannithir

Erdaim, Part One

The dawn twilight glittered off of the snow-covered pines as Selanne glided silently across the forest floor. He was just out of sight of the wittershin foot patrol, which was lumbering along the wooded trail. Thick clouds of vapor poured out of their mouths and noses into the still frigid air. There were only two of the foul warriors, which he found odd as they normally moved in groups of three or more, a fact he had learned long ago.

Selanne's heavy hooded cloak provided enough cover amongst the thick evergreens to render him virtually invisible. He slowly raised his bow and quietly pulled the nocked arrow back to the base of his right cheekbone. He would have to be fast at this close distance. At the peak of his next inhale, the arrow flew towards its target, and Selanne had a second arrow loaded before the first found its mark. The expression on the lead wittershin's face was that of confusion as it saw the massive arterial spray. The arrow had passed clean through its neck, and it collapsed dead onto the now crimson speckled snow.

After witnessing the fall of its comrade, the second wittershin drew its sword and searched in bewilderment for the hidden threat. Selanne let loose his second arrow a split second too early and caught his target in the shoulder as it was turning. The wittershin roared out in fury and charged in Selanne's direction. A second and third arrow found their mark on the brute penetrating its steel breast plate. Its hulking, lifeless mass fell forward and came to a sliding stop at Selanne's feet.

The ranger froze for a moment, taking in his surroundings, and was rewarded by the sound of a branch snapping directly behind him.
"Clever creatures," he whispered.
Selanne instantly rolled forward dropping his bow, as the third wittershin's blade arced over his head and cleaved through a thin pine. He came to his feet with his curved warblade drawn and turned to face his attacker. At this close proximity he could see the warrior's red eyes glaring menacingly at him and he swore he could smell the odor of rotted meat on its breath. The wittershin's lip curled up revealing a set of jagged yellow teeth that looked very capable of tearing through flesh.

Selanne sneered back at the beast and rushed in before feinting to the right. The powerful, but slow, warrior fell for the ruse and brought its large sword down through thin air. Using the momentum of his maneuver, Selanne quickly spun his body to increase the power of his attack. The sound of metal striking metal followed as the warblade cut through the armor, flesh, and bone of the wittershin's left arm. It howled in pain as it stared in shock at the bloody stump. Selanne continued his dance of death, spinning again around the creature before piercing it between the shoulder blades. The wittershin fell to its knees and crumpled to the ground in a bloody heap. Selanne stood over his conquered prey for a moment, basking in the victory. Once his breathing and heart rate were controlled, the ranger recovered his bow and quickly disappeared into the forest.

Check back next week for the background and racial traits of the erdaim!

Series One: Nations of Men

Krey, Part Two

The Crescent Isles

Ruling Sovereignty: The Kingdom of Krey.
Ruler: First Sea Lord and High King Allain FisBaejter.
Government: Absolute Monarchy.
Capital: Sandtown.
Commonwealths, all owing fealty to Krey: Austurie, Cauntabrie, Lausitanie and Lemurie.
Resources: Foodstuff, livestock, silver, iron and slavery.
Coinage: The golden wheel, silver jib and copper quay.
Population: 86,125.
Language: Lusinian.
Alignment: Evil.
Religion: Lotlemonn (The Otherworld).
Allies: Kazdim, Pohja (trade only).
Enemies: Tuanna, Draigtir and any vessel not striking their colors.
Standard: Crossed cutlasses on a field of black.

"The Crescent Raiders seek not rest nor peace, for they are made of the oak and steel from which they sail upon, and have the tempest coursing through their veins. Woe to those who transgress upon their domain, for the payment due is blood and carnage."
When men fled the western world by ship approximately 120 years ago, several of the vessels were lost to mutiny. These rogue ships united and headed south to a more tropical clime, fleeing the main body which ultimately landed on the shores of the Lannithir.
Low on supplies and morale, the mutinous armada came upon a large cluster of islands formed like a crescent. There were five islands total, and the largest of them was named Krey. Over the course of two centuries the settlers have expanded and populated all five islands, and have managed to establish commerce with Kazdim and Pohja. They are a harsh yet disciplined people, and perhaps the finest sailors on Olam.
Among these first settlers was the last heir of Lusinia, who had secretly escaped before his kingdom had been completely annihilated in the fall of the west. His name was Baejter I, and he immediately began in the rebuilding of his kingdom, starting first with his precious navy. The Baejter's who followed continued their predecessors progress in re-establishing dominance on the high sea.
Now in the Year of the Crossing 119, the Crescent Isles have been passed on to the fourth and most cruel generation of Baejters; Allain FisBaejter. Allain has appointed himself First Sea Lord, and realizing his kingdom's depletion of natural resources, has gone to extreme measures to insure its survival. First, understanding the extreme demand for labor in the survival and growth of his kingdom, he has legalized the acquisition, application and trade of slavery. Second, he has commissioned any armed ship, be it merchant or war, to search, seize, or destroy any enemy vessel on the high sea. Allain has issued a letter of marque to any aforementioned would-be privateer, legitimizing what would normally be considered piracy, so long as they fly the Krey colors. This letter has attracted all manner of outcast and undesirable sailors and ships from the mainland, including the native Rue'lim. The Kingdom of Krey is now an aggressor nation, and she has her eyes set upon conquest and expansion.

Krey Background
You add Lusinia to your list of languages known, you add Bluff and Intimidate to your class skill list, and you gain a +2 bonus to Bluff checks and Intimidate checks.

We would love to hear any feedback or suggestions you may have regarding The Krey!

Series One: Nations of Men

Krey, Part One

Cormier paced steadily across the quarterdeck of the Iron Ghost. He stopped and looked up at the mainsail hanging lifeless from its yard, before raising his spyglass toward the object of his pursuit. The Tuannan merchantman, Silver Scale, was escaping. Although well within range of the Iron Ghost's ballista, Cormier dared not fire onto her for fear of destroying her precious cargo. Cargo the Kreyn Admiralty had ordered him to capture. Captain Cyr Cormier was a Sea Hawk of The Crescent Isles. A privateer, if you will, commissioned by the high king of Krey to capture or destroy any sailing vessel that was an enemy of the crown. His orders were simple; capture the Silver Scale and destroy her crew. He collapsed the spyglass and turned to his first mate.

"Mr. Caber!" he bellowed.
"Yes sir!" Caber snapped back.
"Summon her, Mr. Caber."
Caber's jaw slackened and his face went pale. Cormier's eyes narrowed and he felt his temper rising.
"Are you deaf, mister?"
"No... no, sir!" Caber stammered. Cormier took a deep breath and regained his composure.
"Summon her, Mr. Caber. Summon the matant, if you please."
"Aye aye, sir!" Caber tipped his hat and hurried below as Cormier walked calmly toward the railing of the quarterdeck. He looked down to the main deck for the master-at-arms.
"Mr. Rach!" he shouted.
"Sir!" the master hailed back.
"Prepare to board!"
Rach hesitated as he looked at the still sails and then to the distance between the Iron Ghost and the Silver Scale. He looked back at his captain, who remained steadfast.
"Aye aye, sir!" and the master-at-arms brought life back to the ship as he roared out his orders to the crew.

First mate Caber returned to the quarterdeck with a look of horror on his face. Moments later a slight figure dressed in grey robes appeared on the main deck clutching a simple wooden staff. The black locks of hair which spilled out of the hood covering her face seemed to billow in a wind which presently did not exist... at least not here. Slowly she climbed the stair to the quarterdeck and stopped in front of Cormier, raising her head so that he could look into her black, soulless eyes.

"Captain," it was more of a whisper on the wind than a voice.
"Matant Serefine. The crown requires your services," Cormier replied evenly.
"Requires captain?" the matant hissed. "The last time the crown required my services I had to sleep for a fortnight in recovery."
"You will do your duty, matant. Just like everyone else aboard this ship," Cormier held her gaze. He was captain, and would not be disobeyed.
"Aye, captain. I shall do my duty," Serefine replied coolly, knowing full well that within an instant she could seduce him with her charms and overtake his ship. The blood and power that coursed through her veins was over a millennium old, and the contract which granted it was still binding.

The matant glided to the center of the quarterdeck, raised her staff skyward, and began muttering an incoherent chant which increased in volume and cadence. She threw her head back and the chant evolved into a rhythmic song that her body seemed to match in a sudden and violent spasm of dance. Her robes now appeared to be gusting as her song reached a shrilling climax that no sailor aboard could withstand.

"Look!"cried one of the hands, as he pointed to the mainsail. All of the sails aboard the Iron Ghost were filling with air as the ship lurched forward.
"Brace yerselves, ye bloody dogs!" Screamed the master-at-arms. The masts and yards groaned in protest at the summoned tempest, and Cormier feared he would split a sail. In no time the Iron Ghost was closing in on her prey.

The crew was armed and readying grapples for boarding as they came alongside the Silver Scale. Cormier drew his cutlass and looked back at Serefine, who was collapsed against the helm. Part of him hoped she was dead, but part of him knew he would need her again. He raced to his men and raised his sword.

"Take no prisoners!" he shouted hysterically, and his crew responded with a savage roar.

They were Krey, and this was their way.


Be sure to check back January 18th for Series One: Nations of Men - Krey, Part Two.

Welcome to Illfrost

Happy New Year and Welcome to the Illfrost blog. Illfrost is a campaign setting that allows you, the DM, an opportunity to manage unique religions, races, and rules for use in the 4^th Edition Dungeons & Dragons game. Illfrost is a vast world whose frozen reaches will have your players chilled to the bone, not only by its brutal environment, but also by its perilous challenges and unimaginable horrors.

This campaign setting will test your players as they face new monsters, struggle to survive in an unforgiving climate, and face a dread so malevolent that it will leave them shivering in their fur-lined boots and eagerly coming back for more….if they survive!

Be sure to visit us often as we will be unveiling details regarding this world, only to be found here, as well as, information regarding our upcoming products and supplements, to include: 'Illfrost: A Quick Start Guide' and 'Illfrost: Freedom!' the first in a series of modules in the Illfrost Adventure Path.

Challenge your players. Challenge your game. Challenge yourself.

Editor's Note: We will be releasing a succession of 'Sneak Peaks' into the setting of Illfrost on a weekly basis beginning with Series One: Nations of Men. In this particular series, we will explore each unique nation, as well as their respective backgrounds and histories, population, geography, politics and the like. In addition, these 'Sneak Peaks' will contain exciting bonus features for Player Characters.

Check back here on January 11th for Series One: Nations of Men - Krey, Part One.