Category: RDI History

The Black Dragon Depths

The Black Dragon Depths story by Geoff Bottone Nerodia was the latest in a matrilineal lineage of gorgons who had built up a long and impressive legacy around the islands of the Avathian Sea. For generations, the women in her family had slithered in and around the ruins on a remote island. After they had used their abilities to lure sailors close enough to smash their ships apart on their reefs, they would swim out to the wreckage, eat some of the survivors, and petrify the rest. What food that they could not eat themselves they carried back to their

Lucky’s Rolling Barrel

Lucky’s Rolling Barrel story by Geoff Bottone For Zakhan, the Harmonious Cup served two equally spiritual purposes. It was located within the Great Temple of Greyport, and whenever he visited it, Zakhan felt the peace and oneness that he always felt whenever he was close to the divine. It was also a place where he could drink alcohol of exceptional quality, thereby allowing himself to establish a deeper connection with his chi. He hoped that, by drinking as much as Farai, the proprietor, had to offer, and by practicing his art in the quiet tasting room, he would swiftly ascend

Father Farai

Father Farai story by Geoff Bottone It was late autumn, but the rendering room was so hot and humid that Farai had stripped down to his under-robes. He paced around the cramped room, which was tucked away in the basement of the Rookhaven temple of Farnir, and watched as the contents of each of the large metal vats continued to boil. He knew it would be hours and hours before he had cooked off enough liquid for the maple sap to be usable, but he couldn’t help fretting and fussing over the vats like an overprotective parent. He stoked one

Startusk’s

Startusk’s story by Geoff Bottone Phyll’s grandmother Nanny Startusk was the premiere alchemist among the various orc villages that clustered on the shores of Lumpanok Lake. When he was a child, Phyll used to visit her small hut overlooking the lake, sit on the bench underneath the kitchen window, and watch her brew up all manner of comestibles and concoctions. “Nanny!” he would shout, sometimes multiple times each visit, “Can I help?” No matter how many times he had said it, she would always say the same thing. “Come over here and stand next to the counter.” Dutifully, and with