D&D 5E Cormyreans and Their Stories, Plus A Touch of 5E Game Mechanics

[Jeremy E Grenemyer]

This thread is all about the people of Cormyr in the 5E era of the Forgotten Realms.

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Bramas Downjack

Cymbrarra

Old Drukh, aka the Swordsage

Jallask "the Old Crow" Downtlurk

Foros Lathram

Chalassandra Haldoneir and Heladrantha Crakehall

 

[Jeremy E Grenemyer]

...

 

[Jeremy E Grenemyer]

Bramas Downjack
Wizard 10

Bramas is War Wizard in his middle years. His face is slender, his forehead bare to the top of his scalp thanks to hair that long ago retreated. His face is clean shaven save for mustachios grown long and threaded through hoops hanging from each ear, and then woven into a tightly braided ponytail that descends to his shoulder blades. The remaining hair on his head sways out over his ears like a pair of bird’s wings.

Bramas is circumspect in both his personal and professional life. His status as a veteran in the Brotherhood of the Wizards of War affords him private quarters he shares only with his reflection in a small oval mirror that hands from the door to his bedchamber. He has little need to socialize and can count the number of people he calls friend on one hand. Bramas obeys orders and readily faces danger, but he does not strike out on his own, follow hunches or deviate from orders (unless his orders become impossible to follow).

The way of Bramas is one of careful calculation. He weighs and measures the behavior of others, he observes the world around him, considers his prior experience, estimates risk and makes his decision. He insists on a daily review of procedures, and he demands thrice-daily reports from everyone under his command. Bramas annoys the younger, hot-headed magelings in the Brotherhood as well as his peers—all consider Bramas to be tedious in the extreme.

The Mage Royal Ganrahast has found a match for Bramas' methods in the daily care and feeding of war wizards unfortunate enough to have had their minds scrambled or their wits burned away. Such mages cling to life, muttering and drooling, sometimes cackling madly and other times sitting comatose. On occasion they spit arcane words of power that unleash warped spells or wild magic. Yet the Crown of Cormyr is merciful and will not put these mages out of their misery. Seeing to their well-being occupies much of Bramas’ time, and that of the staff he commands.

By order of the Crown, Bramas possesses the authority to slay any mage under his care if he or she is deemed a threat to the Wardens of the Fallen (as Bramas and his staff are known collectively). Spells that conjure blades of force that cut and slice are Bramas' preferred method for killing quickly, and he is an efficient slayer when faced with no other choice.

The return of the Weave of All Magic to Faerûn has added a new wrinkle to Bramas' daily work. At least once a tenday one of the Fallen will return to normal. This lasts anywhere from mere seconds to a handful of minutes before the light in the Fallen's eyes disappears and he or she resumes drooling on the floor while staring ahead at nothing. These brief interludes are scenes of fear and desperation for the Fallen, and sometimes hasty attempts at escape by whatever means are at hand. But on occasion they herald moments of forewarning as the Fallen speak of future events that will befall somewhere in Cormyr.

Some of the predictions are detailed, others a mere handful of words. The Fallen never answer questions posed to them while uttering a prediction, and the predictions themselves are often devoid of context or meaning. Nevertheless, the Wardens keep exact records of what the Fallen have said during their moments of lucidity, and reports of all utterances are forwarded to the Lord Warder (Vainrence), who is responsible for deciding whether to follow up on them or not. Trusted adventurers are his preferred means when no other capable Crown agents are available.

For his part, Bramas sees the hand of newly risen Mystra in these predictions and he prays regularly to her for guidance.


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Torc of True Telling
Wondrous item, rare (requires attunement)
Any time you look at another creature with your mouth open, this torc of wound mithril will record everything said by that creature for up to ten minutes. If you close your mouth or look away from the creature, the effect is ended. As many times as you wish, you may use an action to touch the torc with one hand and open your mouth. If you do so, everything that was recorded by the torc magically sounds forth from your mouth at the same volume and in the same voice by which you heard it. This torc only keeps one recording at a time. A new recording, however short, always replaces a previous recording. If you record the words to a spell with a verbal-only component, then you may use the torc to repeat the words of the casting and no spell effect takes place.

Item notes:
The Torc of True Telling used by Bramas to record predictions made by the mad wizards under his care is the last of a set of four owned by the Crown of Cormyr. The others are believed lost or stolen. The torcs are of elven design and make, and date back to the era of Illiphar, when the elf lord ruled over the forested region bound by mountains on three sides that was destined to be ruled by humans and called Cormyr. Iliphar's heralds and trusted servants wore the torcs, and used them to deliver Iliphar's decrees exactly as he spoke them, so that no issue of miscommunication could be claimed by his more rebellious subjects (of which there were many in the fading days of Illiphar's reign, when humans settled on the shore lands in the south). Humans gave the Torcs their current name. The elf name for them has been lost to time.

 

[Jeremy E Grenemyer]

Cymbrarra
Cleric 9 (Kelemvor)

A steadfast servant of Kelemvor that has roamed all of Cormyr beyond the northern shores of the Wyvernwater for a quarter century, and yearly travels into the King's Forest and the Hullack Forest.[1] Cymbrarra is known for her matter of fact ways and imperturbable demeanor in the face of death; gore, rot and the color of skin on exsanguinated bodies only serve to draw her attention, not repel her.

For a few coppers Cymbrarra will collect the bodies of outlaws, the unknown dead and the homeless, and inter them in simple burial sites (usually square-shaped affairs, with low stone walls erected by Cymbrarra near the shade of one or more trees). If the deceased's patron deity is known, Cymbrarra will end her prayers with a devout call for the divine servants of the patron to find the soul of the newly dead. Though she has no way of knowing it, her call can be heard on the other side. It gives comfort to the dead.

Years spent under the sun have not aged Cymbrarra. For a half century she has used her hands and whatever tools were available to dig graves in lieu of using spells. Her hair remains the color of jet, her leathers and clothing all well worn and colored in shades of black. Cymbrarra's one accoutrement is a choker the width of a finger adorned with pigeon blood rubies from which smaller stones dangle by minute threads. These give her the appearance of one whose throat has been freshly slit, and she is never without it.[2]

Cymbrarra is on good terms with most of Cormyr's local lords, and has negotiated fees for the collection of bodies believed to harbor poisons or disease, lingering magic (especially necromancy) and the corpses of the magically mutilated and slain. These she burns while offering prayers to Kelemvor, along with prayers of supplication and mercy to Azuth, Bhaal or Myrkul, depending on the circumstances of the fate of the deceased.[3]

The outright hostility shown by her fellow Doomguides towards the undead is not a behavior Cymbrarra indulges in. She will readily slay undead when the opportunity presents itself (and this is the time she is most likely to unleash any of the considerable repertoire of spells granted to her by Kelemvor). But when in the presence of ghosts or apparitions known to lurk in the homes of nobles or other patrons requiring her services, she shows open disdain and gets on with the business at hand.

A handful of nobles have made use of Cymbrarra when dealing with the eccentric requests of family members who wanted to be buried in basement wine cellars or interred in upper-floor rooms whose walls were covered in paintings of still-living family members, and so required spells and/or blessings to deter pests and preserve the resting place of the dead.

Expert at determining causes of death, Cymbrarra is unafraid to pronounce the deceased murdered when others are certain a death was caused by accident, calamity or other circumstance. She's earned more than a few enemies this way, as well as allies. The later sometimes tap her for the role of impromptu investigator when discretion is required in ferreting out the truth of the matter of a recent death.

Cymbrarra winters in Arabel.


[1] Though death favors no place more than any other, Cymbrarra never sets foot in the minor village of Collinwood, in the King's Forest. By means of a vision sent to his followers over a century ago, Kelemvor has decreed the village to be off limits to Doomguides. This fact is not common knowledge beyond the ranks of Kelemvor's priesthood. A bare handful know of the second decree: No priest shall attempt to harm, injure or displace the vampire that rules over Collinwood in the name of the King of all Cormyr. Cymbrarra finds the existence of nothing less than a vampire to be jarring, the idea that Cormyr accepts its presence insanity, but she does not dwell on it.

[2] With thanks to the formidable Angela Carter, and her short story "The Bloody Chamber". Despite its obvious value Cymbrarra will not sell her choker; she declines all offers to buy it no matter how extravagant. A quick way to earn her ire is to persist after being declined; a quick way to find death is to attempt to steal it from around her neck.

[3] Among Kelemvor's faithful there persists an ongoing debate as to whether or not deities can experience a final, everlasting death. Cymbrarra long ago sided with the faction that believes no deity can truly die, and her prayers over the dead reflect this. She is an avid reader of old religious texts detailing the ritual prayers of deities believed to have died; these she buys wherever she encounters them on her travels, and she ships them back to her dwelling in Arabel for wintertime reading.


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Mirror of Recollection
Wondrous item, very rare (requires attunement)
If you can see the reflection of your face in this mirror, you may use an action to grasp the edge of the mirror and activate it. If you do so the mirror retains the image of your reflection and everything else within view from your vantage point, that you can see in the mirror. This quality of the mirror may only be used once per creature. The mirror automatically ascertains when a creature that has used this quality previously attempts to do so again, even if the creature's appearance has changed. Anytime thereafter you may use an action to touch the edge of the mirror and call up the image you saved. It remains for as long as you touch the mirror.
You may use an action to call up the last prior image saved by the mirror. This requires you to grasp the mirror's edge with one hand, and then use that same hand to tap the mirror's edge. You do not need to be attuned to the mirror to activate this quality of the mirror. This action may be repeated once per turn for as long as you grasp the mirror. Each time the next most prior saved image appears. The last image that can be called up is always one of utter darkness. An image disappears as soon as you let go of the mirror's edge.
Attuning to the mirror requires sleeping for one night while your reflection is visible in the mirror.

Item Notes:
The Mirror of Reflection encountered by Cymbrarra while investigating the death of a child in a manor house deep in the King's Forest, not far from Knightswood, held the image of the man assumed by the residents of the house to be the child's killer. It was as though he wanted him be seen and captured. After the mystery was solved and the occupants of the house were led away in chains, Cymbrarra thumbed her way through the numerous faces held by the magic of the mirror. When she came to the darkness, Cymbrarra chose to wait until the sun set and the empty house grew dark. In time a soft glow appeared in the mirror, followed by the outline of a face. Cymbrarra was the first human in over three hundred years to see the face of the long dead drow sorcerer who'd crafted the mirror. To this day the face haunts Cymbrarra in her dreams.

 

[Jeremy E Grenemyer]

Old Drukh, aka the Swordsage


Called “Old Drukh” by those who know him, or “the old man with the greatsword” by anyone describing him, Drukh is a hermit that wanders among the rolling hills north of Eveningstar.

Drukh calls no one place home. Instead he walks the rugged lands north of Eveningstar, and may be found in the vicinity of the Forgotten Keep or the Haunted Halls, west as far as the Tempest Valley or east as far as the Helmlands, or in the shadow of the jagged wall formed by the Stormhorns.

Bent of back and bootless, with ragged hair chopped away when it grows too long and scrawny legs poking out of tired breeches, Drukh is easily identified by his one possession: a hulking greatsword he holds with both hands, that is always at rest one shoulder or the other.

Drukh survives by telling tales of ancient swords, and by passing news of current events between one farmstead and the next. The hardy farmers that raise sheep and dwarf cattle on the strip of grassland overlooking the High Road have come to trust Drukh, and they welcome his presence with water and bread.[1] They stopped offering him shelter long ago, after it became clear that snow and rain would not keep Drukh from his wanderings.

If there is a pattern in his travels then none have discerned it. Drukh has not been observed to hunt or forage, and the territorial boundaries of dangerous beasts do not appear to concern him. Two facts commonly agreed upon by those who speak of Drukh are these: He is a sage with expertise in swords of all kinds, and is not to be trifled with.

If one is able to track down Drukh then he will stop and answer any one question about a sword to the best of his ability, but only if the weapon is set on the ground in front of him, and only if the being doing the asking first swears an oath to not bring harm to Drukh and to not obstruct his travels.[2] After answering a question Drukh does not linger, and he will fight anyone that tries to stop him from leaving.

By simply looking at a sword, Drukh can identify without fail where it came from, its name if it has one, its names if it has had many, any magical properties, quirks, minor properties, or other extraordinary properties of the sword, any curses or legends associated with it, historical details of the sword, who forged it, and the names of its past wielders. The Sword Sage gives his full attention to any sword presented to him, whether it be mundane and unremarkable or magical and legendary, and he speaks in a voice that is equal parts solemn and grave when answering a query.

It’s believed that Drukh’s sagely wisdom has engendered the success of a handful of adventuring companies, such as the Five Bright Blades, based in Knightswood.[3] Likewise that his wisdom has led adventurers aplenty to their dooms, for many an adventurer claiming to have spoken with the Swordsage is never seen again. Drukh is known to show kindness to devout followers of Tempus and Helm, and will sometimes offer to answer a second question posed by such followers in exchange for a blessing (if the follow is a cleric) or for news of important happenings related to either faith.

Rumor holds that the greatsword Drukh carries is magical, but no mage (adventurer or Wizard of War) has ever discerned any magic emanating from it. Some think the blade a gift from Tempus that prevents Drukh from being found by seeking magic, and that the Lord of Battles has endowed the greatsword with the power to carve through anything.[4]

Most adult dwarves who’ve traveled for any length of time above ground show an instant dislike for Drukh, while he shows open disdain for any dwarf he encounters. Drukh will answer no question from a dwarf, and will heave his greatsword off his shoulder to fight any dwarf that stands in his way.[5]


[1] "Dwarf cattle" is a term becoming more common in the Heartlands. It refers to livestock that are short, such as pigs, sheep, etc., and cattle purposely bred to be short, such as Thimdrors (a breed of oxen that provide plenty of meat, fatten nicely, and have triangular heads that closely resemble the shape of a lizard's head). The term has spread from the lands north of Waterdeep, where many clanless dwarves have taken to living permanently on the surface, and have brought with them breeds of livestock that had lived primarily underground.

[2] Locate Creature and Locate Object do not work if Drukh or his greatsword are searched for, even if a PC has already met Drukh once before. If a PC swears an oath to Drukh, then they take on the effects of a Geas spell cast at 8th level, and that lasts one year. Additionally, should a PC ever go back on their word, they are magically impeded from doing anything to harm Drukh, including issuing orders to others to attack the sage, even if one year has passed since their oath was made. Finally, agents of various temples, rich collectors of rare swords, individuals who've suffered the loss of an important sword, and powerful adventurers all keep an eye on Drukh and on anyone seeking the Swordsage, and they report to their masters news of events involving the Swordsage as soon as possible. These agents sometimes impede or assist persons looking for Drukh, or spy on anyone who's talked to the Swordsage, as dictated by their master's instructions.

[3] After encountering Drukh, the Five Bright Blades went on to find a cache of gold and platinum idols, and religious adornments sacred to faiths dating back to the time of Netheril, in a ruin located on or under the grasslands north of the Stonelands and south of Moander’s Footstep. The Five have been slowly selling off their treasure to purchase properties throughout Cormyr, which they have renovated into lavish fortresses. These days the Five are rarely seen with the dazzling swords from which they took their adventuring moniker. It's rumored the swords are in fact keys that can open the temple vaults of Garagos the Reaver, and that thieves regularly try to steal the blades away from the Five.

[4] The corpses of bullyblades sent to capture Drukh and carry him off to rich patrons desiring to make a pet sage out of him litter the Swordsage's backtrail. If examined, players will discover that whoever or whatever cut these unfortunates apart spared not armor, blades, horses or gear: all were severed into pieces with precise, straight cuts.

[5] “Oh, he’s hated, that one is. And for good reason! No dwarf worth his beard will ever forget the Sword Sage of Zazesspur. 'Twas he that gave away the secrets of Old Shanatar to the dragon Sheldrukharinthos, and with it a heaping mound of wealth that belonged to the dwarves! But we had our revenge. He'll be walking a mile for every coin that was stolen, and the ghosts of Shanatar will haunt him with every step he takes.” This astonishing claim made by the elderly dwarf and innkeeper Bildorf “Keglegs” Tunneldelver, of Eveningstar, who repeats it whenever talk of Old Drukh reaches his ears.

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I am still working on new Cleric spells to add to this entry. Keep an eye out!

 

[Jeremy E Grenemyer]

Jallask "The Old Crow" Downtlurk

Jallask Downtlurk is a tall man with shoulder-length black hair that frames a craggy face in which two beady eyes keep watch over a long, downward pointed nose. Jallask's every word and gesture communicates that he already knows what you're thinking, what your plans are, that you have no other options and yes, you really are going to take his offer and hand over the deed to your property.

Jallask is a miserly, hardblade (i.e. merciless) moneylender and landlord. Property owners throughout Cormyr know Jallask follows Crown law to the letter, just as they know that to borrow coin from Jallask is to soon find one's coin coffers empty, while Jallask grows richer.

The full extent of Jallask's holdings in Cormyr are known only by the Crown. Property owners that keep each other's company have speculated that Jallask owns at least one dwelling in every community that holds 500 or more residents, and countless more buildings that reside in Cormyr's open spaces.

Jallask is often the only lender willing to provide coin to desperate indebted property owners that no other self-respecting moneylender would do business with. His first order of business is to keep continuous track of which individuals and businesses are in dire need of coin, and to carefully assess who among them would be willing to use their property as collateral in exchange for a loan.

Thus, Jallask and his entourage move from city to town to hamlet in Cormyr. Though his reputation precedes him wherever he goes, Jallask is never turned away. His factors don't stay long once Jallask arrives to make his loans or take possession of properties; usually they've already departed to the next community, there to gather the most recent news and rumors in preparation for their master's arrival. Additional agents remind behind after Jallask departs, both to secure newly acquired properties and to find suitable renters willing to pay the highest rates.

Jallask seems unconcerned with the condition of the properties he obtains, and he gives equal effort to every attempt at an acquisition. Not even the members of his entourage have divined a pattern in his lending, nor in his purchase of properties for sale.

This habit of Jallask's to "swoop in, pick up the whole carcass and fly off with it," is what earned him the nickname "The Old Crow." Few dare use this nickname in Jallask' presence. [1]

Potential borrowers find Jallask to be an acute judge of character, and someone that knows on a near instinctive level when he is being lied too. It's rare for Jallask to know less about a building than its current owner.


The Truth About Jallask

Unknown to all but a handful of individuals residing outside of Cormyr (as well as one dragon thought to still lair along Cormyr's mountainous borders), Jallask is a member of the long ago exiled Merendil noble family.[2]

Jallask cultivates several varieties of jaod, With these masks of living flesh he is able to craft his current visage, as well as several other faces he uses when conducting business in Cormyr. Still more jaod reside on Jallask's body, allowing him to reshape himself as needed.[3]

One such persona is that of Mordrin Behlaskur, a broad shouldered, sharp-eyed building inspector. Jallask takes on the identity of Mordrin when he desires to explore the various properties he claims as collateral when his debtors fail to repay their loans, or when prospective buyers wish to hire the services of an experienced assessor of the value of properties put up for sale.

Jallask's true first name has been lost to time; he has been living for so long in Cormyr under so many different identities that he us no longer himself so much as the personas he takes on. Among other roles, he is his own factor (i.e. business agent), personal guard and chamberlain, and Jallask has developed a unique identity for each.

These personas mix and mingle with his personal entourage of loyal servants and hirelings. Currently there are no living servants that know Jallask' true identity, though there have been others in the past. Should anyone in his service learn his true nature before Jallask judges them ready, he eliminates them and takes on their persona for himself.

Even without the Jaod, Jallask is an expert at disguise and mimicking voices. He remains a living library of the various customs, protocols and rules that have fallen in and out of fashion in Cormyr. Jallask knows a great deal about property, Crown law relating to property and taxes, who has owned what and when, as well as the going rates for various holdings and estates throughout Cormyr.

Unlike the handful of far-flung Merendils whose agents lurk in Cormyr and commit various misdeeds, Jallask prefers to simply take possession of by legal means any property he suspects might contain treasures that belonged to the ancient dragon Oraundalaghhaumtalattor.

Such treasure is usually magical in nature, though most of it has been enspelled not to give off any sort of magical radiance. Jallask has bred his living disguises to seek out the dragon's lost treasures, however, and they rarely fail to discover such hidden objects once Jallask has shed the Jaod from his body and sent them crawling through a newly acquired property.

The life-sustaining reward Oraun provides those loyal servants who return its treasure have kept Jallask alive for centuries, though the means by which Jallask transfers his finds to the dragon remain unknown.


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[1] As opined by Melmuth Orsborg, landlord of Suzail and a frequent competitor of Jallask's, who's also been heard to add, "That beak of a nose notwithstanding."

[2] "The Merendils! What trouble they caused. And what riches they left behind!" This phrase is oft-repeated in Cormyr's largest cities, where one can still ask about the Merendils and find someone who's heard a story or two about them. And since we can't exactly listen in on such stories your best option, Dear Reader, is to learn about the Merendil noble family and their (mis)deeds by reading "The Merendil Gold" article in Dragon #409.

[3] See "Masks of Living Flesh" in Dungeon #192 for a full description (which was a fun and inspiring read for yours truly, but here's the short and sweet version: Jaod are lumpy blobs that slowly consume liquids and simple things like hair and dead skin, and can live and remain on a host for centuries. When they are on a non-plant host, jaod can be slowly worked by anyone with skill at fashioning clay to resemble body parts, and makeup, paints, false hair or other accoutrements can be added to them without harm. Such additions can be worn for as long as the wearer desires.

 

[Jeremy E Grenemyer]

Foros Lathram

The newly installed Queen's Lord of Waymoot is rumpled, clean shaven, sharp eyed and intelligent. His wrinkled clothing does not match his station, and hides a body gone soft with age. The trace of an Illuskan accent rides his speech. He is comfortable speaking Common, Chondathan and his native Illuskan.

Foros holds the reputation of an honest investigator owing to several years spent as a Dragonfang Lord Investigator for the Crown. His appointment as Queen's Lord was received in Waymoot as a clear signal that the Queen of all Cormyr has heard the cries for justice in the wake of dark deeds done to Waymootans and the merchants doing business in the village. The murder of his appointed herald (Amaratha Turnstone) within a tenday of Foros's arrival in Waymoot has dampened the villager's hope for justice.

It is common knowledge among Waymootans that their new Lord wanders the halls of Woodbrand's Keep, holding conversations with people his servants cannot see. Foros seems emboldened after each mysterious conversation to investigate both his herald's death, and the deaths of other Waymootans before his arrival.

Foros has solved a handful of strange deaths and murders in his first month as Queen's Lord, including the death by stabbing of Ingrim Snowlance. A local shipper of goods between Waymoot and Immersea before his murder, Ingrim was known for embracing his heritage as a turnshield (the polite Cormyrean term for a bastard offspring of a noble of Cormyr). It was this blood relation that led to Ingrim's death at the hands of his cousin Hamarthand Irlingstar, the cruel nobleman apprehended by Foros while in the midst of planning the death of another turnshield, the embroiderer of of quilts, curtains, bedsheets, and clothing Iyrytharna Dreadshield of Dhedluk.

Foros attends to his administrative duties, but defers appointments in favor of his investigations. It is assumed Foros has no interest in appointing a new herald to replace Amaratha. As such, the servants of Woodbrand's Keep greet and then tend to several guests at a time, all of them waiting to see the Queen's Lord whenever he returns from his latest investigative foray.

 

[Jeremy E Grenemyer]

Writer's Note:

Something I like about Cormyr is that its people are not homogenous. Indeed, nobles and non-nobles have intermarried with other families (and rarely, other races) both in and out of Cormyr. For centuries new arrivals to Cormyr from other lands have settled in Cormyr's outlands and its cities, and occasionally been elevated to the nobility for their service to the Crown.

Here are two Cormyrean noblewomen that exemplify this phenomena, each posing with their favored weapon: Chalassandra Haldoneir (left) and Heladrantha Crakehall (right).

Photos by Faestock. Licensed through Adobe Stock.


Chalassandra Haldoneir prefers longdaggers of elven make. "They are twice as hard as iron and never break," according to her. The same could be said of Chalassandra, who displays her family's legendary fortitude by walking off injuries sustained from swordplay and battle practice that would leave a battle-hardened Purple Dragon abed for a week.

Heladrantha Crakehall remains a mystery to most folk. A new arrival in Suzail, she claims to be a lost heir to the Crakehalls, a noble house that ended when the last of their line, one Denevvur Crakehall, passed away soon after the birth of Azoun V. Rumor claims Heladrantha possesses a crown of rank and documents detailing her lineage.