Fabled PoP Lore- Part 11
The Plane of Storms, governed and manifested by the will and consciousness of Karana, The Rainkeeper, is primarily inhabited by a large humanoid race of Storm Giants that inhabit every area of the plane with the exception of Mount Grenidor. The various tribes of Storm Giants are constantly warring with each other and can be distinguished by visible physical attributes that relate to the local terrain. Likewise, their dwellings also reflect their environment.
When Norrathians first enter the Plane of Storms, they are greeted by a shipwreck and fallen adventurers on the shores of Larquin (This ship is one of few to make it through a storm on Norrath powerful enough to open a rift to the Plane of Storms even partly in tact and with living crew). Passing further into the plane, an elaborate system of caves beneath Mount Grenidor greets travelers that lead to several wondrous locales in the plane.
Mount Grenidor sits in the middle of a vast expanse open wilderness and is the site of the Bastion of Thunder, home to the plane's residing deity. The other three areas of the plane are divided by impassible ridges that extend down from the peaks of Grenidor.
To the north of Grenidor lies Krendic, the Desert of Chaos, a sea of hard, dark brown stones polished smooth by the ever-blowing wind. Large obelisks of rock crop up in places where the stone has managed to withstand the constant pounding of the sand storms. A few straggly, cactus-type plants dot the landscape, rising from the comprised of small tents and one large head tent, can be spotted. In the eastern section of the desert, there stands a circle of large stones that look as if they were place intentionally long ago.
Gurebk, Lord of Krendic
Gurebk is a powerful war lord who keeps all but those who are worthy out of his domain. Of course, those who are worthy are simply those who swear fealty to him, and any others are slain on sight.
East of Grenidor lies Kelek`Vor, Forest of Tears. The forest stretches far north to the far south of the mountain. The massive branches of the forests trees form a natural bridge, allowing creatures as large as the storm giants to swiftly move through the forest. As one traverses the entwined branches, the tops and bottoms of the trees seem to extend indefinitely and disappear into a haze of fog. In one cleaning there is an enormous stump, evidence of a huge tree that was cut down long ago, farther north, destroyed trees are strewn about in chaotic wreckage, the forest itself having fallen victim to the plane's elements of lighting and ferocious wing gusts. Creatures know as stormriders inhabit the canopy of the Forest of Tears. On the southern tip of the forest, a small encampment of giants can be found. Neffiken, Lord of Kelek`Vor
Neffiken has taken a grasp on the final triumvirate of climates in the Plane of Storms. He controls a wood fort and keeps guards posted so that no outsiders are allowed to breach its security.
To the west of the great Mount Grenidor lies Srerendi, Shores of the Lost. Several large rivers flow from the mountain across the plains until finally emptying into a great lake along the southwest border. There are a few smaller lakes within the plains where the water collects temporarily on its journey toward the southwestern lake. At the very southern point of the lakeshore there is an area with several shipwrecks along the shoreline. This is also where the graveyard of lost souls is located.
Jeplak, Lord of Srerendi
Jeplak oversees all that goes on in his domain. For quite some time, Jeplak has been trying to rid his province of stragglers that have been unfortunate enough to crash upon the shores of Srerendi.
Askr the Lost has been stranded in the Plane of Storms for quite some time and has come to know the depth of a cavern he now calls home. Over time, others have been cast away into the cave, lost from civilization and alone. Askr is often aloof and not eager to share any information with them on the Bastion of Thunder. After some prodding though, he will offer that the key is in besting the leaders of the different areas of Storms. The three factions within the Plane of Storms are at odds with the each other; however, they usually keep to their respective areas.
Fabled PoP Lore- Part 13
The Bastion of Thunder is located in the Plane of Storms, hovering within an immense volcanic mountain that rises above the silver blanket of perpetual storm that coats the land below. The highest reaches of the snow-covered fortress disappear into the gray either of upper stratospheric storms.
The bastion can be reached from the base of the mountain, through the caves and tunnels that guide one up through the mountain core. Inside, the mountain is hollow; extending deep beneath what can only be assumed is the Plane of Storms' surface. A vortex of air and debris spins within the hallow core, creating an eternal windstorm. The inner walls of the mountain are at the mercy of maelstrom of debris, and through battered, somehow maintain their integrity. The energy generated by this vortex is used to keep the Bastion of Thunder suspend in the middle of the great cylindrical mountain. The bastion appears to be a natural construction made of stone, its surface blasted perfectly smooth by the endless current of sand and rock particles driven by the astral winds. The tower in the center of the fortress looks as if it were made of a tree or some other vegetation that has been reshaped in an ingenious manner. A light from one of the upper turrets indicates the location of the old hermit. It is there that Karana is sleeping.
Many planar creatures, servants of the realm and servants directly under the divine master himself, are plentiful throughout the bastion, maintaining the chaos that is erupting all around them. Among these amazing, odd creatures is a species comparable to the giants of Norrath, though unlike the latter, they are not creation of The Warlord. They are each avatar embodiments of a particular meteorological element. Their task is to conduct storm systems of all environmental classifications. Ranging from the scorching dust and sand storms of the desert to the clam, cool drizzle of a temperate spring rain, these avatars exist as representations of the elemental phenomena they embody in both appearance and temperament
These giants are the avatars of burning sand storms, dust, desert debris, and dry heat. Their image, while human in nature, waivers like a mirage off of hot sand. These giants command the powers of heat and violent winds. They attack with waves of intense, debris-filled wind, and immense physical strength.
These giants are the avatars of rain. This ranges from warm tropical rains to freezing blizzards, sleet storms, and icy hail. Their skin and clothing reflects their connection to damp environments. The Satuur seem to always be in motion. Their image shifts and bends like a storm seen from a distance.
The giants are the avatars of lightning storms, sparks, and electricity. Even their armor and clothing cannot escape the affects of their power. They scorch and char anything they interact with. The intensity of their power can be seen in the glowing orbs that fill their eye sockets. They appear to be in a constant state of motion, as if they are made of energy instead of flesh.
These giants are the avatars of windstorms. Tornados, water funnels, hurricanes, and even thunder, fall into the domain of these giant creatures. Unlike the other storm avatars, this race prefers billowing robes, rather than heavy plate armor. Streams of air pour from their limbs and head, as if they were cutting through the clouds.
Agnarr is a semi-physical incantation of the raging uncontrollable nature of "the storm". Any form of natural and/or ethereal storm is a part of his essence. He is able to conjure and control storms of all types. Agnarr is a physical representation of the chaos and uncertainty that has been plaguing Karana even in his meditative sleep. The will that animates Agnarr is the force which has kept Karana asleep for so long. If Agnarr is banished then Askr may be able to rouse the Rainkeeper from his slumber and realign the balance of the Plane of Storms.
Auliffe is the lord of wind. He has the ability to freeze his enemies in great cyclones of air, causing them to spin uncontrollably for a period of time.
The lord of lightning, Brynju and his associates will cast lightning upon anyone who does not have the ward of the Plane of Storms.
As the blizzard guardian, Eindride will call down great blizzards and ice shards that will numb intruders' movements, slowing their attacks and sometimes encase them entirely in ice.
Gaukr has the ability to generate gale force winds of sand and stone. He can manipulate these winds to surround his enemies, slowing their movements by forcing them to move against the winds as well as pelting them with sand and rocks causing them damage over time.
Hreidar is constantly surrounded by a static field that will strip the enchantments off anyone he touches as well as sending a charge of electricity through the body of anyone who strikes him.
Kuanbyr is able to command the rocks that litter his lair and throw them about the room at foolish adventurers. His ravens have also been known to beat their wings furiously and cause great hailstorms of stone to fly threw the air.
The air barracks is controlled by Laef Windfall who can conjure great columns of air to thrash against his enemies throwing them about the room.
Oreen is the water barracks captain. He is a great ice seer who is able to conjure and manipulate great masses of water and call down ice storms to encase the bodies of anyone unlucky enough to be caught in it.
Karana quietly contemplated 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 has largely avoided directly affecting the destinies of mortals in the past. Even 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 had 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 realm of the Rainkeeper. Rare still he would retain his mind and body as 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 for 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 and unbridled. Karana entered his study quietly and perched 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 conscience, 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 below himself 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 began to wrap itself around the vision below him. Just as recognition met with consciousness the great face flew up and consumed the screaming visage of Karana's mind, leaving nothing but the jaded, sneering face of Agnarr behind. Askr sat silently in the small outcropping of rock near the shores of Larquin. How fickle he had found the winds of fate recently. One moment the servant of the Rainkeeper, next the outcast drudge exiled to the water logged caves along the southern shores. The storm giants had wasted little time in having their way with the Bastion of thunder. It had taken them less then a month to destroy almost all of the furniture and ornate tapestries of the great towers. Without the governing balance of Karana the plane of storms had fallen in to complete chaos. The forest of Calidor had been all but burned down by chaotic bolts of lightning that had caused raging fires to roll through the trees. If not for the torrential downpours moments later the fires would have surely destroyed the forest entirely. The stormriders had slowly hidden themselves deeper and deeper into their forest homes for fear of the unyielding vengeance of the storms. Askr coughed violently and fell forward, causing a golden medallion to swing quietly out of his tunic. When he regained his composure he looked down at the medallion. He knew that somehow this medallion was the key to rebalancing the chaos of the storms, but his fear kept him from reentering the bastion. He had failed his master somehow, and he was not certain that he could ever right the wrong he could not define.