The most important people in the world (my players stay out)

[Pielorinho]

What the hell?


Is that just a giant floating eyeball ringed in an upright disc of arcane sigils?


Yes. Yes it is.


It's one of the Thousand Eyes of Tchu-Ren, the Watcher Beyond. It's not saying much, lacking both the capacity and the inclination to speak, but it's observing everything quite intently.


Tchu-Ren. Alienist diviner. Originally from this world, now drifting in waking slumber nestled in his own little corner of the Far Realm. The Eyes are his astral projection-like manifestations through which he observes. Normally passive and unseen, recent events have spurred him into action, as he has a very sentimental attachment to Spira. Think sort of a non-undead, information-obsessed alienist version of a demilich.

Heh--pretty similar to my idea!

Kragath, elder xorn loremaster/alienist/wizard who specializes in the study of dying planes. Because she did not leave one such world quickly enough, she now can exist only within the confines of a complicated geometric structure (when you look at it, by the time you've figured out where the top lines are, you can no longer remember how they connect to the bottom lines, and now the bottom lines look very different from what you thought they looked like). She is incorporeal but manifested within this structure and exists wherever it is built. A nation of grimlocks worships her as a goddess and act as her servants. She was not invited to this gathering, but she manages to show up anyway, and would be a much better source of information if she did not have ethical reservations about observational interference. Careful questioning, coupled with respect for her limits, will be productive. She does not believe the world has any chance of survival; after the dozens of worlds that she's seen die, this does not especially concern her.

Daniel

 

[ashockney]

The Storm King
Cloud Giant Sorcerer, a forgtten age, a giant king, the last of his line. He is grizzled, old, frail and bearded. His near ghostly image will haunt the proceedings. His entourage will include a variety of other giants of different types, as well as the most legendary and mighty hounds any have set eyes upon.

 

[Slife]

Cyzel - Grandmaster of the Order of Forceful Redemption.
CG Human Lich Wiz 20
A powerful lich who ran afoul (or maybe agood?) of a Helm of Opposite alignment. With his new perspective, he has been tracking down more of the cursed helmets and forcefully converting powerful members of Evil races. Accompanied by his first two converts, an Aboleth Mage and an Efreeti druid10. Hoping to eventually ascend to deityhood. Somewhat ascerbic, has severe difficulty convincing people he really *is* CG.

And a scaled down campaign-smasher (if you're strapped for ideas, the thread is great for epic-type effects. )
Hetiv-ih
Human Druid 10 / Vermin Lord 10
Surrounded by thousands upon thousands of locusts, he uses their collective lifeforce by combining it into a hivemind. Deeply devouted to $god of vermin, from the outside it is impossible to discern whether it is him or the swarm that is in control.
The swarm casts as a lvl 20 sorcerer with 24 cha.

 

[Arkhandus]

The Council of six, a group of powerful psions from the Dreaming Isle of Rajin. They each are a master of a particular discipline . They tend to look down on those who are less enlightened than them, but work together particularly well. They have no total leader, with much arguing among the group before they come to a consensus.

And from the nearby Baleful Isle of Djosal comes Fallen Moon, an exile born on Rajin. Fallen Moon is a 20th-level Chaotic Neutral female Pseudonatural Half-Giant Psychic Warrior, and current representative of the abominations in Djosal. Created by fell projects of another Rajin native, who later met his end with a Sphere of Annihilation, Fallen Moon was born like any other half-giant but quickly developed unnatural features, and will never forgive the people of Rajin, though she managed to survive and grow into a mighty warrior.

Fallen Moon is no longer a native, her unnatural development having long since completed and making her into a Far Realms entity stranded on this world. Her presence is terrible to behold, even when she is not consciously holding back the full pseudonatural aspects of her form. Her exact features shift slightly with time, since her transformation completed, so it is likely even the Rajin delegation does not recognize her by sight. With no need for weapons, Fallen Moon has an arsenal of psionic powers and claw manifestations, with a special affinity for the so-called Form of Doom power of her psychic warrior training.

Whether she comes to actually help on behalf of the Baleful Isle's unfortunate monstrosities, or simply to observe with contempt, remains to be seen. Fallen Moon has survived the horrors of Djosal and the occasional attempted purgings of Rajin, and fought as a mercenary for some time now. She may not have decided yet if she intends to remain in this world and preserve it, or immerse herself in the unnatural legacy of her fell origin, seeking a route to the Far Realm, or worse, to bring the Far Realm to her somehow. Rajin yet lingers on the edge of insanity.

(use the weaker pseudonatural template, not the epic one)

 

[Kaodi]

Vakuzo, former and future terror of the deep. 5XL-sized kraken monstrosity, trapped in the deepest rift in the ocean. Let me explain.

One of the first of the great sea creatures, Vakuzo claimed the deepest, darkest rift in all of the seas and oceans of the world. This, in itself, is unremarkable. Badass lairs are a primary concern for all up and coming monster lords. However, Vakuzo had become overly protective of his lair, and it came to the point that he never left it. Instead, he expanded on his natural magical talents and learned to summon and control superior minions. By the time he realized that no other creature was at once large enough and dumb enough to challenge him, he had grown so massively that he was trapped.
Instead of resorting to more, conventional, means of escape, Vakuzo decided to rip off one of his shorter tentacles, releasing it into the custody of his favoured tojanida servitors. While not incredible awe-inspiring by itself (other than for its exceptional size), the idea was that the tentacle would eventually regenerate into another full sized Vakuzo. Fortunately for the kraken, his unique nature dictates that though he may eventually have two bodies, he will still have but one mind.

So, fast forward to the conference, and a regenerating limb is slowly taking on the form of the real creature. Though the limb remains at almost its original, healthy length, it has become very skinny and sickly looking, as its mass has been cannibalized to become the beginnings of the new body. At its current stage, part of its lower body has formed, including two vestigal tentacles, one short and one long, as well as a tiny beak. While it cannot communicate with most, Vakuzo Jr. can still perceive the world around it, and does manage to speak (in aquan) through its one attending tojanida elder. Occassionally, the tojanida will get confused and mistranslate, but a little squeezing by a giant tentacle usually tends to clear things up in a hurry.

( Originally, I conceived that Vakuzo would have ripped out its eye, and placed it in a giant oyster which was dragged around by a lone tojanida minion, but then I noticed Sej's contribution and had to improvise to make it different. In some ways, I like the new idea much more... )

 

[TarionzCousin]

The Infamous Baron Vladimir Van Morrison.

Love the name.



I've got one NPC who could be a guest. She has "issues," owing to her origin in Cyre (in Eberron). Her homeland could/should be altered for your game.

Shalliotha
Female Elf Artist/Sculptor from Cyrean town of Seaside.

Personality: Angry, bitter, frustrated, and usually a “loner.” However, she enjoys being with people in small doses, playing with how “eccentric” she can be. She is entertained by their reactions and especially likes to shock people. Preferred methods: mentioning blood, vivisection, surgery, & other topics best avoided by the squeamish.

Agenda: Ultimately, Shalliotha wants to bring her message (Cyre was destroyed and it’s everyone’s fault) to a wide audience. She knows that she has to play the system in order to get funding/patronage. She has done this before. She is attending in hopes of impressing an Art Critic. She absolutely won’t mitigate her stance for anyone, but she might choose not to answer certain questions. If she is going to impress the Critic, it is going to be through intellectual discourse and philosophical questioning.

Shalliotha is a genuine artist and she sincerely wants people to be affected by her work.

P.S. Sejs, Tchu-Ren scares me...in a good way.

 

[The_Warlock]

Emae-yri Sai-Khan, The Voice of God...

Emae-yri is a leather tough, wiry, and ancient plainsman of the tribes of the High Plains. He is also the chosen oracle of the Plains Tribes' highest god (This is especially good if the same god has a more "civilized" aspect worshipped elsewhere). When born, he was cut from the womb as his mother died, and the knife struck his left hand. As he grew, the scar slowly became the symbol of the plainsgod. Shortly before his rites of adulthood, the "blessed" child began having seizures and visions. Speaking of them to the elders, and the less Kai-Khan, it was shown that he had premonitions of the future. Ones which could aid the tribes, especially those in favor of the god. The one thing Emae-yri never saw were omens of war or victory over city dwellers, or at least he never spoke such visions.

Still, trained as a warrior, not a priest, he rode on raids of caravans, inter-tribe conflict, and finally, one day out of the wide plains to sack a walled city. During the siege and fighting, he was impaled upon a halberd of one of the defenders, dead instantly. A half-brother pulled his body from the polearm and rode back to the deep ranks where the healers stood, but there was no hope. At that point, Emae-yri's eyes opened, blazing with light of the god's chosen color, and in a voice that shook the battlefield, and was heard by every plainsman clearly, said, "THIS VESSEL IS CHERISHED, AND NOT FOR THIS WAR WAS IT BROUGHT FORTH. TAKE IT NOT INTO BATTLE UNTIL THE DARK, OR WROTH SHALL I BE WITH MY CHILDREN." And then slumped forward, alive, his wounds healed but with vivid white-yellow scars.

Since then, Emae-yri was named the Sai-Khan, of King of Priests, and was given honor by all the tribes. Where he rides, food and drink are provided. Where his wisdom is asked he gives it. Where the blessing of the plains god is begged, he is the instrument of judgement. Where there is war, he watches, but does not enter. So has it been for the past 300 years, and still he lives, still apparently nothing but a normal man. He still suffers from seizures and fits, waking later with a vision from his god, which he follows - often to a place or tribe, and imparts the wisdom or warning of the divine.

But recently the vision has been the same - corpses, dead animals, withered plants, all soon consumed by a creeping all-consuming darkness, then a flash, and the image of a place. Mounting his plainsteed, he now quests for the place, and has for sometime, using no magic, just visions and the directions of people in lands he doesn't know. And will arrive exactly at the location of the conference as it begins.

There he will describe his vision, and his purpose as the Voice of God. Likely there will be a more civilized delegation of the same faith there who will denigrate him in his dirt stained leathers and wrinkled leathery skin as a mad man. At which point Emae-yri will cock his head, nod a few times, and recite a list of very unfavorable actions or thoughts the civilized high priest has taken, and quite matter of factly inform him that their god just told him that, and that in pennance the high priest must make him tea and wash his feet (or some equally demeaning task from the point of view of th civilized high priest), and will defer to Emae-yri in these matters. If he persists, Emae's eye will shine, and a mighty voice will echo, "THREE TIMES SHALL I SPEAK FROM MY VESSEL. YOU MAKE ME WASTE SUCH POWER TO TRIFLE WITH YOUR LACK OF UNDERSTANDING, LEAVING BUT ONE SPEECH FROM MY CHOSEN. BE CONTENT!" The high priest should at once, in awe, commence with the commands of his lord, while Emae remarks somewhat crossly that "At least this time I didn't have to die for him to say something."

From that point on, Emae-yri will bring his particular nomadic viewpoint, and 300 years of faith and wisdom to the table. Emae-yri is a War2/Clr1/Drd1/Psion (Seer) 16, focusing on various object and place reading and powers of precognition. Emae-yri however doesn't regard himself as a psion in any trained method, merely that he is imbued with his god's powers of foresight, and he is just as likely to have a seizure during the conference having god borne visions, or subconsiously triggering high level clairsentient powers to answer questions which someone at the conference has asked. If asked how he knows, he will simply reply with, "God told me."

Though the emissary of a god, a wise man, preacher, and arbiter, he is also a crotchety, ascerbic, sarcastic man who likes wine, women, song, strong fast horses, vulgar jokes, and a strong cup of fermented mare's milk. While his parables may sometimes seem crude, they tend to be blunt, and get the point across.

 

[Blackrat]

Umzadada
An extremely powerful magic-user(actual class unknown. Probably Sorcerer/Favored Soul/Mystic Theurge) of unknown race (unique). Completely mad and very limited in languages. Speaks only Abyssal and Celestial. S/He does however know one word of common: Flower, which s/he uses as a name for hir friend, Alyssa. Umzadada waves around with hir hands and uses vivid signs whenever s/he speaks. (for example descriping some monster s/he raises hir hands high to show that it was huge, then makes teeth with hir fingers to illustrate the fangs of the monster... etc, hopefully you get the point)
S/He has layers upon layers of clothing and furs on hir so that you can't actually see any part of hir except the eyes that glow from deep under all the hoods. S/He actually resembles more a round pile of furs than a living creature.

Alyssa (Flower)
Friend of Umzadada. Alyssa was a barmaid who manifested sorcerous powers and was taken as an apprentice by Umzadada who seems to have somewhat a crush to the half-elven girl. She is no more than 5th level sorcerer but she can translate what others speak to Umzadada in abyssal.

 

[Sejs]

A housecat.


...bane of commoners everywhere.

 

[Stormborn]

Arake'kir, Bride of Ice

Once she was the most beautiful of elven maids. What she is now is unclear, save for the fact that she may be one of the most beautiful females in the world. Ages ago she left home to explore the world and came to the Ice. There she communed with strange spirits and was transformed.

Tall, beautiful, and terrible. Her skin is the color of new snow, her eyes are the pale blue of glacial ice, and her hair is of such a pale gold as to resemble the hint of dawn across the frozen fields. In her home she wears nothing at all but here she has deined to dress in simple shift of white silk. Jewels of ice adorn her. Frost forms at her foot falls on stone floors. Every room she enters grows cold. Her breath causes tiny showers of snow before her that fall upon her ample form.

She is the Voice of the Ice, the chosen of a god so vast and alien as to be nearly incomprehensible. All the tribes and villages of the northland pay homage to her in some way. The winter dwarves fear her, the white dragons bow to her, the snow wyrds dance for her.

She is the Bride of Ice, cold and emotionless and unpredictable. She rarely speaks but when she does it is a sound both beautiful and freightening. Her movements are slow and deliberate but she can kill with a glance or lay waste to cities with a gesture. She has only come because she would not see the world ended before it is covered from pole to pole in her Love's embrace.

She is attended by two of her court. One is a savage looking humanoid with blue skin and a white frost-lined beard and a large great-axe made of some strange blue metal that looks as if it were forged for a giant. This is Yridajniosjuth, an Old White Dragon cursed into what he considers a lesser form by the Bride of Ice for some unknown sin. He serves her so that she may release him from it; fortunatelly she has allowed him to retain his breath weapon.

The other is a lovely half-elf with long silver hair who is always dressed in beautiful, but suitably heavy, robes and fine jewlery of silver, diamond, and sapphire. She is Sallahtuwlishon, an Adult Silver Dragon and emmisary of the Bride of Ice. It is she who speaks most often for the deligation, seemingly knowning her mistresses very thoughts. She also makes no effort to hide that she is a dragon, and changes form daily to stretch her wings and to tease her counterpart.

Additionally the group arrived with an honor guard of twelve sturdy looking warriors clad in hide armor and thick furs- all were-polar bears sworn to serve the Ice.