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Mothers of Rot, the
I will choose my words carefully when speaking on these harlots and would advise you not to give them any more consideration than what I am presenting. These witches are conversant in vile ancient magicks that bubbled up from the chthonic depths of the earth. Subservient to a dark command they are one of many vulgar sodalities in a web of powers that threaten the very fabric of mortal existence. They do not hide their evil behind sophistry or artifice and do their repellent works with full knowledge of the aberrance of their path. With glee and twisted rhapsody they embrace a perpetual empire of night.
Believed to be an offshoot of the Er Straga Coven the Mothers of Rot hold nothing but bitter hatred for their kin. They do not wish to guide the world through the clever breeding of nobles or shaping empires - they are beholden to reducing mortals to chattel and reshaping the world where they will rule eternal in bodies of flesh forever escaping the judgement of death. I have heard whispers they call the dark castle Alaran de Chassan in the north of the Heruanian League their home…a place I urge you to never approach nor think about what occurs within.
Grand Cricket Bridge
A marvel of human engineering the Grand Cricket Bridge is suspended over the deep Binam Divide. Situated on the Orange Road the bridge saves months of travel time for merchants and armies traveling east to west. Wide enough for twelve soldiers to march abreast the bridge is made entirely of green tinted wood from the banfai tree.
Long enough that when standing at one end you can not see the other walking across the bridge is a tad bit taxing on the nerves. Maintained by an army of engineers the men that work the bridge are some of the bravest, or foolhardy men I have ever met. In stirling condition the bridge has seen war, wind, rain, snow, rockslides and lightning strikes but yet remains as strong as the day it was built.
“Pride in one’s labors is its own reward.”
-Tauxien proverb
Politics
A difficult word to describe indeed. Politics is in its most academic sense the scientific study and art of statecraft. In reality it is something far more occult…and dangerous. Politics is a writhing mass of snapping adders, a perfumed gossamer gown…it is in truth none of those things and this sorcerer simply does not have an requisite answer…
Mathranax
Mathranax is a demonic entity in both Elshar and Dinorianism though his his role as a adversary is more pronounced in the later. In Dinorian demonic lore Mathranax is one of Drankus’ chief lieutenants where in the underworld he rules over a province covered in seas of molten gold spotted with islands of razor-sharp diamond. Mathranax is the lord of greed who whispers into the ears of men making them gold-drunk with a lust for all things material. His demonic minions scheme and vie for their lord’s favor hoping for a greater share of his demonic golden corruption. Mathranax is commonly depicted as a large swath of skin with many faces stretched between two pillars of rotting diamond.
