Urlord

My name is Sebastian Croix, fifth and youngest child of Duchess Alexandra Croix. Having fought in the final two years of the Galon-Polg war, returning to the tedious life of a noble nobody was unacceptable. So, I didn’t return. 
 
Instead, I gathered fourteen loyal soldiers who also had little to return home to and we ventured into the Hangorian Foothills just beyond the Galon border. After some time, we found what I was looking for - The keep of Zangris the Exile. 

History Lesson
========================
About 300 years, Count Pol Zangris possessed a gift that whenever he gazed upon another person he could receive visions of their future. People went to him - all wanting to know their fate. Eventually, the King and Queen summoned Zangris to the palace.  After learning their future, the Queen stripped Count Zangris of his titles and exiled him from Galon.
 
Zangris, along with his family, friends, and followers retreated to the Hangorian Foothills. They never returned to Galon, but rumors spread about their community and the Castle of Zangaris the Exile.
=========================
Back to the Story
 
The keep lay in ruin, overgrown with vines and trees that pushed aside the chiseled stone. Gaining entrance to the courtyard, the keep appeared in a similar state. Ordering the men to spread out and search in groups of three, I took two men with me into the keep. 
 
The interior of the keep was much less ruined and possessed the standard furnishings one would expect. Then a spirit appeared to me (and only me). The spirit was not hostile and said it was expecting me. It was the spirit of Zangris. 
 
I befriended the spirit and over the next few months, Zangris told me of my fate while my men cleared the encroaching vegetation and restored the castle. I am now lord of this castle. Armed with the knowledge of my future and with the help of my spirit companion, there is much work to do.

Back when I was playing RoleMaster, we noticed that High-Elves had a natural +20 DB and RR to cold. So, they were hunted, killed and skinned to make soft leather clothing by nearby marauding barbarian tribes. It was awesome! 

Back when I was playing RoleMaster, we noticed that High-Elves had a natural +20 DB and RR to cold. So, they were hunted, killed and skinned to make soft leather clothing by nearby marauding barbarian tribes. It was awesome! 

Back when I was playing RoleMaster, we noticed that High-Elves had a natural +20 DB and RR to cold. So, they were hunted, killed and skinned to make soft leather clothing by nearby marauding barbarian tribes. It was awesome! 

Back when I was playing RoleMaster, we noticed that High-Elves had a natural +20 DB and RR to cold. So, they were hunted, killed and skinned to make soft leather clothing by nearby marauding barbarian tribes. It was awesome! 

Both parts of your divided mind are correct.
Casting spells at will is OP, If and only IF the spell effects are above what non-casters have access to.  For example, if a missile weapon that can be purchased at a shop does 1d6 RKA, then spells that do similar damage should be available at a fairly low cost.  However, if spells are doing more damage than what other characters have access to, then full cost is appropriate.
 
I hope this helps.
 
 

Both parts of your divided mind are correct.
Casting spells at will is OP, If and only IF the spell effects are above what non-casters have access to.  For example, if a missile weapon that can be purchased at a shop does 1d6 RKA, then spells that do similar damage should be available at a fairly low cost.  However, if spells are doing more damage than what other characters have access to, then full cost is appropriate.
 
I hope this helps.
 
 

I am currently running a campaign where all spells must be powered by END Reserve: Mana Pool (for Magic) or a Divine Pool (specific to each deity). The pool’s recovery requires Meditation/Study for Mana or Prayer/Worship for Dicine. The Recovery of the pools is also affected by the character’s physical location.
 
Very High Mana Area = x2.0 REC
High Mana Area = x1.5 REC
Average Mana Area = x1.0 REC
Low Mana Area = x0.5 REC
Null Mana Area = No REC
 
Deity’s Consecrated Ground = x2.0 REC
Ally Deity Consecrated Ground = x1.5 REC
Non-Consecrated Ground = x1.0 REC
Other Deity Consecrated Ground = x0.5 REC
Enemy Deity Consecrated Ground = No REC
 
There is no difference to the actual spell casting unless the spell is built with a specific limitation, i.e., “Must be cast on the Deity’s consecrated Ground” [-1] or “Does not work in Low or No Mana Areas” [-1/2]. 

For this, I'll steal freely from a number of stories I've enjoyed. Citations provided.
 
Most people know ogres only as big dumb bruisers who hit things and eat people. A few ogres, however, are cunning and may even have magical powers. Ordinary ogres are wary of magical ogres, which shows they aren't completely stupid.
 
Simple folk often think tinkers are magical because they travel in strange and foreign lands, such as the next county. It's true, they see more of the world than most folk ever will. If you need advice, you could do worse than ask a tinker. Prudent folk remember the old proverb:
 
A tinker's debt is always paid:
Once for any simple trade.
Twice for freely given aid.
Thrice for any insult made.
(from Patrick Rothfuss, The Name of the Wind)
 
So when you meet an ogre with a tinker's pack and cart, keep your wits about you and mind your manners. You have met Slunder the ogre tinker. He's not as magical as his great-aunt Baba Yaga, but he is still a fairy creature. Not many people hire Slunder, but those who do may obtain magical treasures. Those who are try to rob or cheat the ogre tinker... regret it.
 
Pay Slunder a few coins and give him a meal, and he will sharpen knives, mend pans, and provide the other usual services of a tinker. Let him eat his fill (he will leave barely enough to feed the family for a few days thereafter) of offer similar kindness, and he gives one of three possible gifts.
 
The first is a silver coin. It's battered and old, stamped with the face of an unnamed king, but good silver. It's also magical. If you spend it, it reappears in your purse or pocket the next day. The Unspendable Coin won't make
you rich but you will never starve.
 
(Lifted from Monday Begins on Saturday by Arkady and Boris Strugatsky.)
 
You can give the coin away, as a gift, and it becomes unspendable for its new owner.
 
Slunder has a sack of these coins. He never gives but one. Anyone who steals or robs an Unspendable Coin suffers its curse: All the person's other money vanishes within a day, leaving him with just one unspendable coin. Any other money the person makes vanishes as well. You can't lift the curse of the coin by giving it away: It comes back. Mocking you.
 
Or, Slunder might give you a pan. The magic of the pan is that it remains perpetually full of the first food you cook in it, as long as you take care never to empty it. If, say, you fry up a pan of ten sausages, you can keep taking sausages from the pan and new sausages appear. The magic stops only if you create a situation where the pan must be empty, such as flipping it over to dump out all the sausages. Sorry, you can't re-set the pan: It works only once.
 
(From Over the Hills to Fabylon by Nicholas Stuart Gray. The woman who obtained the magical pan unfortunately used it first to cook a batch of swill for her pigs, so she had an eternal supply of swill. Well, it'd be okay if you wanted to run a pig farm.)
 
Slunder's third possible gift is a doll. It's not a fancy doll, just a common child's toy. Three times, however, it animates to help and advise the child to whom it is given. The doll is virtually omniscient and prophetic, enabling it to give supernaturally useful advice. If the doll is taken by force, though, it gives supernaturally bad advice that leads the thief to inevitable doom.
 
Next: Headmistress Madame Clott and her Finishing School for Young Ladies.
 
Dean Shomshak

Sleesmalb, the legendary Goblin Wraith of the Brier-Nuts tribe, continuously drifts in circles round and round his grotto; moaning and howling with the wind that occasionally wafts through the empty passages. Ages ago, Sleesmalb ventured into the spent copper mines above looking for baubles and shinnys to add to his meager collection.  He hoped to one day amass enough wealth to buy his way into the tribe leadership. But that day would never come.
 
As Sleesmalb searched and scratched his way through the abandoned mine, he heard a sing-song voice from the natural caverns below. The voice called to him and he squeezed through a narrow fissure into the natural beauty of the deep earth.  As the voice called, he continued searching past chambers filled with stunning rock formations and subterranean waterfalls.  At last, he came to a treasure hoard that was larger than any he had ever seen. Gleaming gold, silver, ivory and gems littered the grotto floor.
 
A shadowy wisp of black smoke drifted in front of him and took the form of tall humanoid woman. In a hollow voice she spoke to him in the common tongue, "Who are you and why have you disturbed my grotto?"  Clutching the gems he had pilfered from the floor, he grinned and replied, "I listened your voice and it brings me here. Oh, and me Sleesmalb, um, um, slayer of wispy things.".  The female shadow did not appear alarmed, but asked, "So, are you here to slay me Sleesmalb?" Seeing his opportunity, Sleesmalb spoke up with more confidence, mustering every ounce of presence he had, "Yep, I here to puts yous down for goods! Unlets yous gives me lots of shinnys!"  The shadow drifted back a few feet from the goblin feigning fear.  "Oh my!" she exclaimed, "To spare me, I shall give you my most precious treasure, a magical silver sash that makes you as strong as a giant and invincible. It is there, on the floor beside the chest. You may take it and all that you can carry. Just please do not attack me, oh slayer of wispy things."
 
Sleesmalb moved and saw the silver sash sparkling on the ground next to a large chest overflowing with treasure. Knowing he could not carry the chest with his current strength, Sleesmalb picked up the sash and draped it around his scrawny neck.  The sash began to glow with a blueish light as its magical energies coursed through him. He grinned from ear to ear and turned to the shadow.  As he stared, the shadow solidified into a beautiful elven rogue.  He was so awestruck by the transformation, he didn't even hear the sound of the silver sash hit the stone floor as is fell through his wraith-like body.  With that, the elven rogue gave a flourishing bow, said "Keep it all goblin - you will grow tired of it after a century or two!"  And she fled the grotto. The only thing Sleesmalb could think, was... "What's a century?"
 
 
Next: An Outcast Ogre Tinker