Welcome to Gaia! ::

Welcome to the land of Eberron, where magic is as technology and vast lands play host to wild races. This game focuses on the land of Khorvaire, a versatile continent ruled by termoil in years of late, and the location of the ancient Great Kingdom of Galifar.

This is a time of opportunity and adventure. The lost treasures of forgotten civilisations are only beginning to be recovered. Untold wealth and powerful artifacts can be gained, assuming one can get past the deadly guardians and cunning traps that protect them. Crime lords and corruptpriests clash in the cities, Spies, courtiers and assassins battle with swords and words in the courts of Khorvaire. Mad wizards, ancient demons and sinister cults pursue deadly schemes that could threaten Eberron itself. This is a time when new heroes must arise to replace those slain in the Last War, to find a way to restore light and hope to the people of Khorvaire.

Races

Humans: Humans, a relatively young race, are the dominant race of Khorvaire.

Changelings: Changelings are subtle shapeshifters capable of disguising their appearance. They evolved through the union of Dopplegangers(Shape-shifting monsters) and humans, eventually becoming a seperate race distinct from either ancestral tree. They do not possess the full shapechanging ability of a doppleganger, but they can create effective disguises at will. This ability makes them consummate spies and criminals, and many changelings live up to the potential.

Dwarves: Dwarves are natural miners and smiths, and they control most of the precious metals found naturally across all of Khorvaire. Powerful dwarf families mint coinage and operate banks, issue letters of credit, hold loans and collect debts. Dwarf bankers and merchants wield a great deal of economic power throughout Khorvaire, and they are well respected as a result. To an extent, they are also feared, since dwarves are known to be ruthless in collecting unpaid debts.

Elves: Many elves are regal and aloof, concerned with plans that cover the sweep of centuries, not the petty day-to-day affairs that occumpy the thoughts of other races. A few elves are rather more down-to-earth: The elves of the less powerful houses have lived among humans and other short-lived races for centuries and have adjusted their sense of time to accommodate, and the elves of Valenar have rejected many of the old ways of their kind in order to take a more active and expansionist place in the world.

Gnomes: Gnomes harbor a thirst for knowledge that can only be described as lust. They believe that every piece of information, no matter how trivial, may someday have value. Combined with a meticulous discipline, this love of knowledge makes gnomes superb librarians, accountants, bards and alchemists, but this attitude has a sinister side as well. The same talents that make an accomplished bard can produce a skilled spy, and gnome society is filled with webs of intrigue and blackmail that often pass completely unnoticed by human eyes. Like the dwarves, the gnomes have no history of empire-building, but their talents for diplomacy and espionage have allowed them to maintain their independence throughout the history of Khorvaire. In addition to their skill as alchemists, gnomes have mastered the art of elemental binding, which they use to power the ships and other vessels they construct in the dry docks and shipyards across Khorvaire.

Half-Elves: Half-elves are common in Khorvaire. Half-Elves can be as haughty as elves, though they are more able to work comfortably with humans. A few half-elves, fascinated with death and the practices of thir Aerenal ancestors, become accomplished necromancers. Others favor their human heritage more strongly, to the point of blending almost invisibly into human society. While the majority of half-elves belong to their own distinct race, elves an dhumans throughout Khorvaire still intermingle and occasionally produce offspring.

Half-Orcs: Half-orcs are rare in Khorvaire, since humans and orcs never have lived in particularly close proximity. In the small, scattered human communities of the Shadow Marches, however, half-orcs are more common, and they can also be found in the western parts of the Eldeen Reaches and Droaam. The orcs of the Shadow Marches live much as the humans do: It is a rustic life, to be sure, but a far cry from their existance as ruthless barbarian hordes in the distant past. Half-orcs are just as civilized as the humans of the reigon, and often look almost human despite their size and strength.

Halflings: In their homeland, halflings are nomads who ride domesticated dogs across the wide plains. The heritage of the nomad also serves more urbanized halflings well, and halflings have established themselves across Khorvaire as merchants, politicians, barristers, healers and criminals. The tribal nomads of the plains can sometimes be found in the cities, but often the halflings of the cities blend in with the rest of the population and display only the occasional reminder of their nomadic roots.

Shifters: Shifters, sometimes called "the weretouched," are descended from humans and natural lycanthropes, now nearly extinct on Khorvaire. Shifters cannot fully change shape, but can take on animalistic features - a state they call shifting. Shifters have evolved into a unique race that breeds true. They have a distinct culture with its own traditions and identity.

Warforged: Built as mindless machines to fight in the Last War, the warforged developed sentience as a side effect of the arcane experiments that sought to make them the ultimate weapons of destruction. With each sucessive model that emerged from the creation forges of House Cannith, the warforged evolved until they became a new kind of creature - living constructs. Warforged are renowned for their combat prowess, their size and their single-minded focus. They make steadfast allies and fearsome enemies. Earlier warforged modles are true constructs; some of these remnants of the Last War come in monstrous varieties, such as Titans. The signing of the Treaty of Thronehold had all Warforged freed from their status as property, and gave them the right to be people of thier own - something that not all Warforged can truly comprehend.

Territory

Aundair: One of the five nations originally founded by the human settlers of Khorvaire, Andunair has a rich tradition of cities dedicated to knowledge and education while the areas outside the cities are known for agriculture. Rich farmlands, pastoral forests and excellent vinyards abound. Though the borders have changed many times over the centuries, the nation has carried the name of Audinair since 32 YK.

Breland: One of the five original nations founded by the human settlers of Khorvaire, Breland mixes a proud agricultural tradition with a more urban and industrial outlook, especially in its massive cities. As with the othre Five Nations, Breland's borders have fluctuated over time. It was named for King Galifar I's daughter, Brey, in the year 32 YK.

Darguun: In ages past, hobgoblins and other goblinoids controlled Khorvaire. Over the course of thousands of years a host of goblinoid nations rose and fell. The greatest civilisation of this age, the Hobgoblin Empire of Dhakaan, bred goblins and bugbears as slaves and warriors. The ancient empire has returned in a weaker, less influential form, in the new nation of Darguun.

The Demon Wastes: North of the Eldeen Reaches, life gradually seeps out of the earth. Lush forests fade to a broad tableland of dried soil and cracked rock. Further north, the elevation rises into the bleak chain of mountains known as the Shadowcrags, then drops dramatically. The land beyond, a highland plateau, is broken into badlands, a network of canyons and a mesas that forms an atural labyrinth leading out to a plain of blackened sand and volcanic glass. This is the Demon Wastes - the last remnants of the rakshasa civilization that ruled Khorvaire millions of years before the rise of goblinoids or humans. Amid the ruins so old that they barely resemble the buildings they once were, fiendish creatures search for fresh blood while ancient forces watch from the shadows. In this realm of death and desolation, long-forgotten treasures and primeval secrets hide in the blasted wastes.

Doraam: A mere two decades ago, Doraam was a part of Breland, but while the maps reflected this claim, few Brelish lived in the western barrens beyond the Graywall Mountains. The place has always been dangerous, a haven for monsters of all sorts, and the land was never easy to work or hunt. A few brave settlers tried to tame the land over the years, but none of them ever met with much luck. As the Last War wore on, monster warbands became more aggressive, striking at Breland either at the behest of warring nations or for their own spoils of war. In 987 YK, King Boranel of Breland evacuated the few remaining Brelish and declared the land west of the Graywall sealed off limits. In that same year, a trio of liches declared the sovereignty of the new nation of Droaam.

The Eldeen Reaches: The Eldeen Reaches cover the northwestern reigon of Khorvaire to the Shadowcrag Mountains. The eastern Reaches feature fertile plains and rolling hills, but dense forests cover the majority of the nation. These forests house some of the most primeval trees on the continent, ancient growths that have survived the rise and fall of empires and witnessed the arrival of humans on the shores of Khorvaire. The forces of magic permeate these woods, and strange beasts and mischievous fey roam the land. Many dangers also lurk in the deep woods, and the humanooids who make their homes in these forests don't always take kindly to visitors.

Karrnath: Of the five nations originally founded by the human settlers of Khorvaire, Karrnath has the strongest military tradition. Famous as the birthplace of Galifar himself, the great king who unified the five nations, the nation consists of lush forests, fertile plains and extensive waterways flowing from snow-covered mountaintops to the sea. Once, the borders of Karrnath included most of the land east of the Scions Sound, covering what is now the Mror Holds, the Talenta Plains, Q'barra and the Lhazaar Principalities. Today, the nation stretches from the Scions Sound and the Cyre River on the west to the Ironroot Mountains in the east, and from Karrn Bay in the north to the start of the Talenta Plains in the south. The nation's name has not changed since the ancient days before the founding of the Five Nations, when Karrn the Conqueror not only established the country that still bears his name but also tried to conquer and unite all of Khorvaire under his rule. Centuries later it was another Karrn, one of King Galifar's sons, who rededicated the nation to himself in 32 YK, the same year when the Five Nations officiallly adopted the names of Galifar's five eldest children.

Lhazaar Principalities: A loose confederacy of pirate lords, sea barons and merchant princes controls the area east of the Hoarfrost Mountains. This strip of the continent's eastern shore, along with the chain of islands that wraps around the coast and extends north into the Bitter Sea, makes up the region known as the Lhazaar Principalities. Named for the near-mythic explorer who lead the humans to Khorvaire some three thousand years ago, the Lhazaar Principalities have always been grouped together - even though th eindividual princes rarely see themselves as part of a greater whole.

The Mournland: Once, Cyre shone more brightly then any of its sibling nations in the kingdom of Galifar. The Last War took a toll on the nation and its citizens, slowly toppling its many achievements as it became the battleground on which the armies of Karrnath and Thane and Breland crashed. Finally, disaster struck. No one knows if the catastrophe was caused by a weapon from an enemy nation or a doomsday device of Cyre's own design. The cataclysm may have been deliberate; it may have been an accident. In the end, the result was the same. Beautiful Cyre, jewel of Galifar's vast holdings, exploded in a blast of arcane power the likes of which hadn't been seen since the ruin of Xen'drik forty thousand years before. On the Day of Mourning in 994 YK, Cyre dissapeared. Now the region that was once Cyre goes by a different, darker name. Now it is simply called the Mournland.

The Mror Holds: For thousands of years, blood ran like water through the cracks and crevices of the Ironroot Mountains. When the barbaric dwarves weren't killing one another, they struggled against the Jhorash'tar orcs and other vicious creatures that lurked in the depths of the great mountains. Then, in the early days of the kingdom of Galifar, the great king gave his son Karrn the lands east of Scions Sound to govern and tame. A united dwarf nation might have resisted the Galifar expansion, but the feuding clans were too weak to challenge Karrn and his forces. The smiths and masons of the dwarves have learned much over the last thousand years, and the mountain fortresses of the Mror Lords are said to be impregnable. The dwarves, however, have little intrest in conquest. The power of the Holds is iron and gold - and it is on this field of craftmanship that they battle one another in modern times.

Q'barra: The frontier nation of Q'barra, settled within the past seventy years and recognized by the Treaty of Thronehold, remains a dangerous, unstable place. Even so, more then a hundred thousand settlers call it home and fight to keep it, despite the troubles and dangers that surround them.

The Shadow Marches: Commonly, the reigon known as the Shadow Marches conjures images of a fetid backwater where illiterate humans mingle with orcs and other foul creatures, and participate in strange rites by the light of the moons. These immages are accurate - to a point. A desolate land of swamps and moors, the Shadow Marches have been orc territory for more then thirty thousand years. The region has suffered through a terrible war against the daelkyr that scarred the land, stranded horrible creatures in the shadows and divided the orc tribes. The daelkyr were eventually defeated, but the schisms caused by the war remain.

The Talenta Plains: The Talenta Plains spread out to the east from Karrnath and the Mournland, reaching for the mountains of Ironroot and Endworld. This flat tableau of rugged grassland gives way to the punishing head and sand of the Blade Desert before rising into forlorn peaks and crumbling cliffsides of the Endworld Mountains. Across this vast expanse, herds of buffalo run wild, and halflings wander in nomadic tribes. The halflings control a terriotry bordered by Karrnath, the Mror Holds, Q'barra, Valenar and the Mournland. Every year, the Blade Desert seems to creep farther into the grasslands, but as long as life can be squeezed from the plains, the Talenta halfling tribes will survive.

Thrane: The spirit of the Sliver Flame took hold of the hearts and souls of the people of Thrane seven hundred years ago, and this religious fervor remains the driving force behind the nation. Thrane was one of the original Five Nations founded by the human settlers of Khorvaire; the culture and heritage of the region goes back millennia. It was absorbed into the Kingdom of Galifar and remained a pillar of that celebrated kingdom for almost a thousand years. While the rest of the Five Nations followed the tenets of the Sovereign Host, a new religion found life in Thrane before spreading far and wide across Khorvaire. In the wake of the Last War, Thrane stands as a thecracy devoted to the Silver Flame.

Valenar: Ten thousand years ago, the elves of Aerenal established a settlement on the southern shore of Khorvaire. Initially, the hobgoblin emperor was pleased to have a center for trade with the elves, but over the next century this relationship soured and turned to war. The elves could not match the numbers of the goblinoids and were driven back to Aerenal. War between the empires continued sporadically over the next few centuries. Ultimately, both hobgoblin and elf agreed to respect the current borders - the elves would hold their island continent, and the hobgoblins would continue to dominate the mainland.

Zilargo: The gnomes of Horvaire have lived in the area known as Zilargo for thousands of years. Situated between the Howling Peaks and the Seawall Mountains, the gnomes have thrived despite incursions by and conflicts with goblinoids, kobolds, and humans. They have always managed to maintain their independence, winning battles with words tha tthey could never win with swords. After Galifar established his kingdom, he eventually set his sights on Zilargo. The gnomes met his forces in the valley north of Dragonroost and immediately surrendered. During the negotiations, the gnomes became an independent province within the kingdom. Galifar left in victory, and the gnomes secured a safe place in the new kingdom - all without spilling a drop of blood. Relying on wisdom and cunning, along with elemental-bound items and illusions, gnomes can be surprisingly dangerous opponents.

A HUGE map of Khorvaire

The Warforged stood atop a hill, longsword at one side, short sword at the other, b*****d sword and shield across his back, dagger at his leg and a bag of supplies at his waistline. He looked down at the lights in the town below him, the magical orbs that illuminated the streets at night casting an eerie glow all about the city. In all his wandering days, the Warforged had never left Breland. For some reason, the idea had never sat well with him. It was almost like doing so would be the betrayal of the crown, and that was one thing he would rather die then do.

He thought as he looked down at the lowly light streets. He wondered about the past, recalling old allies and dear friends. He thought to his own future, and how he could ever fit in with a population that couldn't trust him. Many of his old allies had settled into towns and gotten jobs as armorsmiths, blacksmiths, construction workers, gemcutters and mercenaries, using the skills they had gained in the Last War to do menial jobs, trying to immitate the species around them in an attempt to blend with their society.

The Warforged was one of the few of his kind that had yet to do something with his life so far. He was determined to put that to an end. And so, it was with determination that he headed down into the city streets.

Several minutes of deep contemplation later had the Warforged passing through the town gates. He stepped as lightly as a four-hundred pound construct can, trying his best to stay out of everybody's way. He passed several streets before he made a right turn, seemingly at random. He passed the North Tower, where the Lightning Rail stopped in this town, and into an all-too-familiar network of back-streets and alleyways.

He had come to this place often to escape the hustle and bustle of life on the streets, and to evade the often accusing glances of passer-by's. This night was different from every other, however, for a woman's scream was heard in the distance. As was usually the case for him, curiosity got the better of the Warforged, and he went to investigate the scene.

He arrived on it failry quickly. The old feeling of disgust rose in him at what he saw. He was looking at five men - criminals, judging by their attire - had backed a poor woman into a corner. She was violently shaking with fear at the very sight of them, and yet they continued advancing with callous smirks on their faces. Normally, The Warforged would have been sitting back to observe the human behavior, wondering if he would fit in with either of these two groups. This time was different, for this woman had the coat of arms of the Brelish Royal Family on her dress and necklase.

A deafening roar escaped the Warforged, forcing the dangerous-looking men to turn their attention to him. His mechanical legs crashed forward, the dagger at his calf drawn in an instant and thrown squarely into the first unsuspecting brigand's chest. The longsword and short sword were in his hands in an instant, and he went about engaging and dispatching them one by one, as the ideal situation would have had it.

These criminals were smarter then they looked, though and all did not go as planned. The first of the brigands was engaged singly, and it was only a matter of a few seconds before the Warforged had blocked and parried a blow, driven his enemy's weapon up high and struck beneath it, severing his spine and dropping him cold. The next two were on him as soon as he had dispatched the first, and he was driven back to his heels just fending off their attacks. As is always the case, the brigands took advantage of the opportunity, and it wasn't long before he was surrounded on all sides.

It was time for a change of plans. As fast as most people register a change in an enemy's stance or movements, the Warforged had already acted on it, sheathing his two primary weapons and drawing his b*****d Sword. Holding the mighty weapon in both hands, he slashed violently outward, cleaving through two of them in a single blow. It was no accident that the blow also broke through one of their swords and another of their shields, for this b*****d sword was the enchanted weapon he had been given during his command in the War.

As the other two looked in awe at the single vicious attack, the Warforged turned from them. Frightened, they turned and began to run. But, these men had attacked Brelish associates, and running was not to be an option for them. Holding the weapon in his right hand, the Warforged raised the sword high above his head and spoke a single word almost so quietly as to be inaudible. Lightning blazed fourth from the blade's grip, striking the ground at the retreating mugger's feet. The flash of light was gone in a second, leaving a scorched road and two pairs of boots where just before there were whole people.

The night had turned out to be eventful early on after all, but the Warforged still had a task to do. Not even waiting for a responce from this woman, the Warforged sheathed his magical blade and began walking out of the alleyway.

[RP is now open]

Can I join?

((I'm SOOOO sorry that I've been gone for such a horribly long time! I promise I won't take such a hugely long break from this place again! I couldn't be discriminate when I cleared out my mailbox, so all you people who had characters submitted to me, I'll add you to my character list if you re-submit your profiles to me. Sorry again!))

The Warforged hadn't been given a mission in a long time. Of course, he didn't need to be told twice what his mission was. One of his superiors had just been killed. He would need to capture the assassin, or else bring her head back on a silver platter. He started by approaching the Brelish noble's corpse and looking to the wound on her neck. He was an experienced soldeir who had known nothing but war for his whole life. He had no trouble discerning the cause of death, which was clearly not the wound itself. Poison. He stepped forward to where the woman had dissapeared into the shadows. It wasn't the first time he'd been told to track an assassin - and a damn good one - down. He was on her trail in only a few more minutes.

He sighed - or would have, had he lungs - as he continued on the trail. Several thoughts swam about in his head, not least among them the possibility that the assassinw as already gone from the city. Another of the possibilities was that the assassin was a changeling, as many assassins were these days. If that were the case, then his own recollection of the girl's appearance was already useless. Not only that, but he would have no idea what to look for when he saw her again.

The crowd parted before him as the nearly seven-foot-tall semiconstruct walked through it. He ignored the fear in some eyes, the hate in others, the sympathy in still others and the mild neglect from the rest. He'd learned to stop caring a long time ago, when he'd first come back to the world from the War, and never had let these things get to him again. He had tracked the girl into this grouping of people, but here the trail was starting to run ever thinner and thinner. If this kept up, he would lose the girl before long...

As he walked through the crowd, he caught a rather curious sight. It was true that a changeling could shift their face, hair, eyes, even their body build and apparent gender, to suit the occasion. One thing they could not do, however, was to change their clothing, a tallent they had lost when they had first evolved from dopplegangers. Therefore, when the Warforged saw the muscular man heading for the tavern, it raised quite a few questions in his mind. Sure, there were all manner of strange people in Khorvaire and somebody may well have been a cross-dresser, but considdering the circumstances, the suspition in the Warforged's mind was too great to ignore. And so he changed up his course to chase after this odd man - if he was indeed a man - at a casual pace seeming himself to be headed for the tavern.