Forge The World - SoundSage

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The monsters of the the Black Rock Coast are vast and varied, from ancient spiritual creatures to strange mutations born from super natural anomalies. This week on Forge the World we explore the bestiary of our native land and add seven new creatures and two modification templates to the canon.

Skitter Shrieks
The Fissure Poisoned (Mod)
The Amber Zombies (Mod)
Oak Zenith
Black Rock Golems
Rage of Grief
Jewelled Cormorant
Awakened Beaver
Lantern Bugs

All of the stat blocks are available via our World Anvil page and in the Facebook group. Next time on the show, we'll be exploring all the ways characters can receive a call to adventure with an episode dedicated to "Adventure Hooks".

Thanks fo much for joining us and until next time, keep forging the world.

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The Amber Mines

Like moths to a flame, the promise of wealth rarely goes ignored. Least of all by the types of settlers you’re likely to find seeking their fortune in the freshly dug tunnels of the Amber Mines. This rag-tag cooperative of backyard born excavators and fly-by-night opportunists might honestly struggle to stumble upon a quest in a tavern. However, just as a similarly opportunistic, but slightly more organised leader emerges to stop their burgeoning industry from imploding, the miners may have stumbled upon more that their insatiable greed had bargained for.

The hungry excavation of the earth beneath the forest has inadvertantly connected entire networks of natural subterranean caverns, borne from the cavities left in the sediment from enormous, decomposed fallen trees, victims of one of the many volcanic eruptions that once ravaged the coast.

These caverns have hastened the rate at which the amber veins can be exhumed, but as the twisting tunnels have begun to be explored new evidence is emerging that suggests traces of a long forgotten civilisation that once called the Black Rock Coast home. Ancient scrawl on rough hewn rock, primitive tools encased in amber and fossilised creatures that are no longer native to the area are just some of the discoveries shutting down large sections of the mine.

Forged in collaboration with Holly Fox

Preservation or Profit - The Leaders of The Amber Mines

Amanda Planeta's shaved head glistens with perspiration, and her filthy overalls show that she still spends more time underground than not. A no-nonsense dwarven entrepeneur, her dig has yielded more amber than any other, though she also has the most questions aimed at her surrounding her methods. As her team delves deeper, following rich veins of maple sap and other valuable commodities, an alarming number of workers have never returned, waved off as personal carelessness or unfortunate accidents.

Concerned with her operation's practices, the council appointed Mannett Shepard as their representative and site inspector. Mannett's blonde hair and colourful clothes stay remarkably clean as they traverse the tunnels, looking for signs of cultural or ecological significance, or particularly hazardous areas, to be blocked off indefinitely for inspection or expensive improvements.

The two could not be more different, with Amanda constantly trying to run risky gambits without Mannett finding out about them, and Mannett condemning ever growing portions of the yield and the dig to inspections. Tension is growing, with both parties looking for ways to gain the upper hand in the arms race over the balance between peace and profit.

Forged in collaboration with Josh Kurganoff, Holly Fox, and Scott Ryan

Thuun’Dakar the Ravenous Shadow

Many names once existed for a horror which few now have ever heard of. Ancient denizens of the Black Rock forest told legends of a monstrosity which dwelled deep beneath the earth, a creature of myth and nightmare which skulked through shifting tunnels where no natural light touched. The few who were washed over by the pale yellow light of its eyes and lived to tell the tale back then called it Thuun’Dakar.

But that name is an old name, long-since forgotten. The mines had been untouched for centuries by the time that the settlers of Firstshore first explored them, and the newcomers gave a new title to the low rumbling which rolled and echoed through the dirt and stone beneath the earth. A rumbling which gives way to the sound of a thousand scythes excising rock from wall and scratching lines in the floor leaving no life behind. Of pale yellow light creeping through holes in the walls, only to flood into tunnels as they fills with screams while the lucky few flee in fear. They call it, the Ravenous Shadow.

But who could honestly believe such a tale? Not those in charge of the Amber Mines, that’s for sure. They haven’t seen any sign of this nonsense. The missing diggers were just soft headed fools who got lost… in single passage mines.

Forged in collaboration with Brent Walters

The Skitter Shrieks

A Public Service Announcement from the Head Researcher of the Consortium of Curiosities, Professor Nitra Fizzlebottle

Small insatiably curious bipeds that rarely grow larger than about a foot and a half tall, these chthonic omnivores are primarily found in the twisting natural passage ways that occur around the area known as the Amber Mines, it is here that they scrabble in the ancient rootways feeding off of the insect life and fungi that share their domain.

Nearly blind, the Skitter-shrieks get their name from their liberal use of echolocation and their chirps and whistles can be heard nearly anywhere with the mines, in fact it's considered an incredibly bad omen if you can't hear them as it usually means one of the larger predators or similar danger is close.

The Shrieks make their nests upon the fecund beds of the luminescent fungi that grows throughout the mines, a practice that has caused a biological marvel of symbiosis where the creatures have appeared fuse with the plant over time. You may be tempted to risk rummaging through a nest in search of the small chunks of infused amber the Shrieks prize so highly.

But approach with caution: A shocked Shrieker will rarely hesitate from expelling a large cloud of fungal spores, whose properties are prone to induce wild hallucinations.

Forged in collaboration with Kat Winslade and Cameron Doyle

The Genasi Druids of the Black Rock Coast

Deep in the forest resides a druidic clan, consisting predominantly of Genasi of Earth and Fire, who found that the strength of the elemental essence of the area grows deeper inland. Towards the volcano, powerful elemental forces threaten to emerge and destroy all they touch. These druids have taken it upon themselves to safeguard the area, and the Tabaxi tribes have made careful effort to keep these elemental custodians and the frontiersmen apart to avoid potential conflict.

Of perhaps several clans scattered across the land and sea nearby, the tribe settled within the forest and inside the mountains call themselves The Ash Cloaked, a tribute to everything the forces of nature have buried, that they serve to protect. The Genasi may have descended from the original inhabitants of the Black Rock Coast, their elemental nature a byproduct of the calamity which decimated their numbers long ago; or perhaps they're also migrants just like settlers of Firstshore; the truth may indeed be lost to the ages, unless it is sealed away below the mountain. The Ash Cloaked have to keep watch in every direction, with new threats emerging more frequently than they can quell them, hence sometimes sealing them away is the only option, losing their history - and their domain - one ritual at a time.

While they have a strong community and sense of tradition, their duty as custodians of the land make them weary at best to outsiders. While the tabaxi of Sablereach are largely at peace with their habitat, and of little threat to the clan's mission, the settlers of Firstshore are of growing concern for the conservative guardians, and view their reckless expansion and excavation as a direct threat to their duties, and may see fit to intervene before they dig into areas long since condemned and forgotten...
Forged in collaboration with Brent Walters and Cameron Doyle

The Eye of Reverie

The Eye of Reverie is a small faction within the Druidic tribes of Genasi that broker agreements with the nobles of the Fey courts. Stepping into the thriving plane of positive energy to confront the denizens of the gloam court, and navigating the turbulent channels of the summer court and its ever shifting political landscape.

While their focus is narrow, their duties seem to be ever expanding. As the influence of the Feywilds seems to grow stronger with each passing moon, more and more Fey creatures are entering the forests the Druids call home. The murderous Redcaps, are one of the most note worthy. But lesser nobles also have been met by travellers, with grandiose titles and bold claims of power.

Druids tied to The Eye of Reverie often play the role of emissaries or ambassadors for the material plane. They’re highly disciplined, often training for years to perfect the art of maintaining a sound mind, even when faced with the threat of Fey magic.

Occasionally however, when called for, The Eye develop a different kind of warrior. A strike force, so to speak, hand-picked to eliminate invasive Fey like the redcap, before they have the chance to spread. In this way, a member of “The Eye” may occasionally find themselves in the company of adventurers, taking careful measures to avoid ever completely revealing who they truly are.

Forged in Collaboration with Brent Walters

The Ember Release

The winter gales lashed out in the night, a tempest of ice and wind. An endless howl carried on the air, seemingly without end. The coast was dark, the sky was nothing but rolling clouds of the blackest greys; blocking out even the faintest sliver of a moonbeam. But one soft light pierced the perpetual gloom. Shades of orange and red spilled forth from the cave mouth, appearing as a beacon of warmth, of light, of life.

The cavern shifted with the flicker of fire. It was warm and bright, almost as if the cave somehow hid a small pocket of summer sequestered away from the storm raging outside. Stoic figures stood within bearing grim expressions. The Ash-Cloaked, faced grave danger for this was the night of the ritual they called “the Ember Release”: a tradition wherein the rift which they normally protected was allowed to open. Deep in the heart of winter, they did this in order to vent the intense power and heat which builds inside the volcano, coursing into the material realm through its connection to the plane of elemental fire.

Pyren stepped forward, his bare chest prickling as he walked towards the rift. The heat that radiated from the tear in reality seemed alive, as if sensing his approach. He steeled his nerves. What he was asking of those who stood behind him… they deserved at least this much. He looked around each face in half circle forming behind him, then turned back towards the rift, and raised his hand. A pulse shot through his chest, forming a tether between himself and the rift, drawing on the ancestral magic which flowed through his veins. In unison those around him also rose their palms to the fire, lashing themselves to the rift, lending their strength to his.

The lights swirled, the heat rose to the point of burning, and the portal groaned and expanded. Ember and ash swirled from its depths; then with a scream, beings of fire and hatred tore through, clawing their way into reality, unleashing blood curdling cries of hunger and anguish. They charged forward, smashing against the wards and protective shields that had been set up in preparation, screeching as their forms shifted across and pushed against the barriers.
The druids hands blackened, the darkness spreading up their forearms as they pushed to hold the burning entities back just a moment longer, starving them of air. And then all of a sudden, the wards broke. The spirits shattered through the boundaries in waves of cinder and flame. The elementals of fire swarmed into the cavern, to be met by the druids bearing down against the assault.

Much later, the rift had returned to a slow, rippling glow. The Genasi were silent as they drifted around the cavern, nursing wounds or moving the dead. Staring out into the cold at the mouth of the cave, Pyren cradled something in his hand. A Cinder Shard. He knew that inside this tiny gem was stored all the intense rage and crystallised heat of an inferno, but he was numb to the scalds it was burning into is palm. He wept, as the bodies of so many of his people lay still behind him, not for failure, or grief, but simply for the futility of it.

So it was almost a thousand years ago, when Pyren of the Conflagration led the Genasi people. And in all these intervening years, nothing has changed. Nothing has ever hinted at an end to the painful cycle. Until now. Just last year, when Solis, his descendent, led the Ash-Cloaked to complete the ritual, something had seemed unfinished. They had realised that something was wrong – the volcano was not sated. And when they studied this last shard – the last in a long line… they saw that it was cracked.

Forged in collaboration with Brent Walters

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In this episode, we get into a good old fashioned powwow among friends and chat up a storm about all this and more:

Recap of the Melbourne PAX trip.
Special announcement thanks to PCRCs resident amazing guy Andrew Rowland
Special guest introduction.
Favourite canon entries from the team so far.
Player characters we'd like to play in the world.
Final call for collaboration in adding details to the amber mines.

We're also very happy to announce The Adventurer's Alliance Critmas meetup is a go for the 15th of December. Can't wait to eat food, celebrate and play games with you all then.

To see all of the canonised content created by the community so far, head over to: https://www.worldanvil.com/w/forge-the-world-jeffthecow
Once again a massive thanks to Andrew Rowland for putting this together for the community.

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The Falling Moon Mercenary Company

Few people that step foot in Firstshore are met with the same balance of fear and reverence that is given to members of The Falling Moon Mercenary Company.

Largely nomadic, the company live off the land on the fringes of civilisation in the plains and valleys to the South of Firstshore and Sablereach. Those that have seen the full herd on horseback or even tending to their mounts on the foothills of the southern mountains speak of a cavalry that could turn a devil white.

The company’s chief Grawdor Feltusk is a gnarled and battle scarred Half-Orc Barbarian. Ostracised from an early age he left Firstshore of his own accord on his eighteenth name day and In the years since has worked hard to establish the Falling Moon as a haven for misfits and outcasts. Strict and militant, but also fair and wise, Grawdor is the living embodiment of his mission to create a place where outsiders feel like family.

From the clinking of their spurs hitting the floorboards of The Turning Wheel Inn to the smell of sweat from the hard days ride, the presence of The Falling Moon in first Shore is an event feared by many. For any operator worth their salt knows, the leathery skin of these land hardened mercenaries make them a great ally in any fight, but a terrible enemy to have on your bad side.

Forged in collaboration with Haydon Potter.

The Severed Wing or (The Featherless)

Oak Zenith was always very large for his age. Where the other cubs were lithe and nimble, he was muscular and brutish; a tiger amongst leopards. But being less nimble never stopped him - he pushed through any challenge, always making it through in the end by adapting the test to his own strengths. It was during his attempt at the Proving however that he first tasted true, unavoidable defeat. Even at his size, he can move like a shadow in comparison to most humans, however when it came to testing his abilities against the ancient Rocs, he was too loud, too slow and too clumsy. Zenith returned with no feather. From that day on he was an outcast, and his bitterness grew.

Many years later, Zenith slayed the Roc which had left the claw marks on his body. He killed it mercilessly, cruelly, a personal ritual marking the beginning of a new path, one starkly different from the reverent traditions of Sablereach. He put the settlement behind him and left them to venture out on his own.

There was something about Zenith though, something which eventually drew other outcasts to his side. As it happens, his story wasn't as uncommon as he'd believed, and it wasn't long before he had something of a following.

This new group, a faction who call themselves the Severed Wing, named "the Featherless" by the people of Sablereach, blatantly reject the stuffy old ways of the elders. The clan now have ambitions to take over the Black Rock Coast, starting with their old home. They act as a marauding tribe, harassing the outer settlements of Firstshore and attacking any caravans which are sent through the thick forests overly laden or underprotected.

Forged in collaboration with Brent Walters.

The Nightswords

After landing on the coast in the bay that would become Firstshore, the early settlers quickly learned that the rough seas and harsh storms were not the only threats. After dark, the auspicious sounds of large predators haunted the inhabitants, and people were starting to go missing. One morning, after finding his daughter's cot empty, the goliath Thadhan Kalagavea swore to protect the budding town. Working with others who had lost people to the encroaching wilds, they raised a wooden palisade around Fireshore and manned it by night, keeping the darkness at bay.

To this day, the Nightswords are the respected guardians of Firstshore. A militia, formed largely of those who have lost family to expeditions into the woods or on the Great Hunt itself, they maintain the fortifications surrounding the town as it grows, and keep watch against the ever-present threat of the beasts just beyond the treeline. While Thadhan has long-since passed, every member of the Nightswords knows his story and why he stood against the wilds, and honor his loss on every night that the town sleeps soundly since.

Forged in collaboration with Tom Dawe.

The Devvitt Lumber Corporation

Those fast talking, creative accounting, deal making halflings. Such are the descriptors that follow the co founders of The Devitt Lumber Corporation.

The Halfing brother-sister combo, Anilia and Judd Devitt hail from the Southern Nations and were recently contracted by Merchants in Firstshore to build a trade road between the port of Firstshore and their Southern home. All seemed to be travelling smoothly until tussles with local taxi tribe-members and more violent skirmishes with The Severed Wing have halted operations and are forcing the Halflings to improvise.

The siblings appear at a crossroad between working with the Firstshore city council to broker peace with the Tabaxi or bypassing them entirely in favour of contracting some extra muscle. Either way, due to their father’s careless past, the Halfing’s must act quickly to secure their enterprise’s a success, before a crushing family debt catches up to them from beyond the seas.

Forged in collaboration with Josh Kurganoff.

The Consortium of Curiosity

The Black Rock Coast's uniquely fertile lands and deep magics have given rise to many magnificent and wondrous flora and fauna, and thus has also attracted those who would research and use such resources.

The Consortium of Curiosity is large organisation who's goals are to Study, Catalogue, and Improve. Founded and funded by several eccentric (and wealthy) alchemists, as well as a few wizards and researchers, the Consortium does a healthy trade with a number of budding adventurers. The group are always happy to fund expeditions as well as purchase and research strange items, plants and/or creatures.

The Consortium of Curiosity also makes a great deal of magic items - especially potions. The near constant attempts to improve upon existing methods means that they always have an abundance of goods for sale, although some may have a few harmless side effects...

A small branch office was recently opened in Firstshore, and then was quickly relocated to the outskirts of the town after a few... uhh, incidents. The bounty of the Coast's rich ecosystem, steeped in arcane energies, has proved most interesting - and although the town may have some misgivings, the researchers have helped calm worry with medical aid, as well as their bringing no small amount of gold to the area.

The Head Researcher, a perpetually optimistic gnomish alchemist by the name of Nitra Fizzlebottle, has recently been trying to find adventurers willing to collect samples from the deep forest, she believes that some of the larger fungi might be cultivable, and could hold the key to stopping her quickbrew healing potions from turning people's hair blue.

Forged in Collaboration with Cameron Doyle

The Princell Academy

Dame Agatha Princell arrived in Firstshore shortly after it was established as a frontier town. Bringing wealth and an honorific from distant lands, she comissioned the Princell Academy as one of the first stone buildings, lending a semblance of permanence to the growing community. Taking in outcasts and orphans, she raises her students as her own children with a distinctly stern, foreign approach. Princell alumni can be found in prominent, influential positions all through Firstshore, and those close to the Academy say that children studying under the Dame are being groomed for positions of power.

None of her former students will speak ill of Lady Princell; indeed, most have little to say about her at all. She remains one of the most respected people in the region, and holds the ends to many strings that she tugs and puppets as she sees fit. Of course, no hard evidence exists to support the claims of her meddling, but as an elderly elf at the peak of her influence, if she has an endgame, it is surely just around the corner…

Forged in collaboration with Kat Winslade and Scott Ryan.

The Salted Hawks

Mist hung thick in the air, rendering the sky a frosted grey. The deep ocean black was punctuated below by shards of sunlight, reflecting off of chunks of floating ice. The only colour visible on the frozen tableau was red. Whale's blood.

A hoarse cry shook the young sailor from his battle stupour. Panicked shouts roared back into his mind, as focus slowly returned. The fleet was only a day in to the great hunt, and two ships had already been scuttled by these monsters from the deep. Javelins whipped through the air, some piercing blubber and others sailing wide. This was his first hunt, and he was still learning. How could they afford to fight for the rest of the span, surely they'd run ou... That's when he saw them. Dark figures, whipping through the smoke like shadows. The spears which missed were being collected by vessels which looked like swooping birds, so fast that it was hard to make them out as they moved through the heavy fog.

On the other side of the skirmish, another youth struggled to maintain clarity in the icy wind - the lethargy of the cold was sinking in, and her eyes now ignored the fight, focusing instead on the surface of the water. Ropes floated, bobbing in the see like webs of wet hair. All of a sudden one was pulled taught attached to a boat nearby. Wood groaned with the strain of it, before the anchor point was ripped free, taking part of the ship's wooden stern with it. The obstacle flew across the water skipping, catching the lines of several other ships. Whatever behemoth pulled from below threatened to scuttle them all. Then she saw it too. Like a knife in the water, impelled by a single pilot, it streaked in and cut the rope, before darting back to pull those who had fallen in up upon its leather padded gunwhales, ferrying them to safety.

Farther back, Kiora Whalebreaker surveyed the scene from the deck of her craft. Far off in the distance, dorsal fins had begun to appeared in the water on the outskirts of the combat theatre. Sharks. The scents would spread out, calling opportunists and scavengers here from miles away. They needed to be fended off, driven away.

Inspired by Brent Walter's name The Salted Hawks and forged in collaboration with Kieran Hannigan.

This weeks prompt: There are two areas of the current setting that are still a little lean in terms of detail and we'd like to fill them out. They are the Genasi Druid Tribe and the Amber Mines. There are no rules as to what we want you to add, so simply work together, make suggestions, riff off one another's creativity and lets fill them out.

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The Titans
As they drift their way through the icy waters, ships travelling back to the Black Rock Coast from the northern seas will be received, one by one, by a series of enormous black obelisks, lined up in a row on the shore. These great, sombre, standing stones are known to the people of Firstshore as the Titans. The seven monoliths are spaced out over a half mile following the water, and each stands tall enough to tower over the masts of the ships, casting shadows which pass slowly over the deck.

The obsidian which makes them up forms a rough quartz-like structure mostly covered with salt and sand, but on the ocean side, the surfaces have been polished by the ocean spray to a glistening, black shine. None know the origin of the Titans, or their original purpose, if they were even carved at all, yet sailors returning from the great hunt revere them nonetheless. Quiet prayers of thanks are often offered in response to the silent welcome of the ancient guardians.

The Singing Shrine
When the tides are low and the winds are high, in the moments before a storm, singing comes from the cave nestled into the base of the cliffs along the coast, south of Firstshore.

There are stories of it calling to people. It’s said it starts as a whistle on the breeze. A tune that gets stuck in your head. A compulsion like an itch in the folds of your brain. Something that draws, something that drives.

A favourite Firstshore ghost story, tales of the Singing Shrine are told and retold during the long night. No-one is quite sure where the stories started, or which parts are true and which are embellishments.

One common thread holds true in all the stories - at the very back of the cave, at the end of a narrow tunnel, there is a shrine. No-one knows the name of the god it was built for, or how long it's been there.

Some say the altar overflows with jewels, and gold, and objects of great power. Others say the shrine is ringed by the kneeling bodies of those drawn in by the song, their empty eye-sockets turned up in exaltation. Sailors claim to have seen a spectral figure standing at the entrance. However, no story can be confirmed true, and none dare the journey to find out once and for all.

Hunter's Roost
The Tabaxi of Sablereach are capable craftsmen with the natural resources available to them; ropes of incredible strength can be woven from long strips of bark collected from the grand firs, and then further hardened with with sap from the maples. These techniques have been applied on a grand scale to suspend the structure known as Hunter's Roost.

Roughly the size of a small inn, the Roost is suspended high up in the canopy by a vast web of large, taught ropes, some more than a foot thick and hardened by many coatings of lacquer.
The Roost serves as a lodge for the Tabaxi hunters, giving them a comfortable vantage point to watch the major game trails surrounding the nearby lake. A half day's travel led by a seasoned guide from Sablereach proper, the Roost is practically self-sufficient; enough hammocks to sleep two dozen hunters, benches for butchering, racks for drying meat, and even a few large pots for fermenting mashed berries and honey into mead.

Although silence reigns during the day, at night the roost is a place of joy and merriment where tales of the hunt are swapped around the carefully tended fire.

The Seelie Tree
A small grove of cleared land, with meadowed grass and the occasional wildflower, sits in stark contrast to the giant trees surrounding it this deep in the forest. In the centre of the grove, a single seemingly dead tree with jet black bark and no leaves to speak of, stands ominously alone. Twice a year, on each solstice, it bears a single fruit; ripening at dawn, and falling to be reclaimed by the forest at dusk.

The rumours of the properties of the fruit are wild and varied, but they all have one thing in common: you would have to be very silly to eat the fruit. It’s always “silly”, never “brave” or “stupid”. Indeed, according to the older residents of Sablereach it is all together a very Seelie Tree…

Emerald Hot-Springs

Situated in a clearing deep within the forest a series of hot springs can be found. With their heat sourced from the molten rock that flows near the surface of the earth courtesy of the nearby volcano these pools are tinted a rich green.

This is partly due to the verdant greenery they reflect from their surroundings but also from the algae that line them. The algae is a resilient strain somehow able to survive and thrive within the steaming water.

However, the appeal of these springs lies not only in their beauty - but in their ability to cure magical afflictions. Tales flow through the taverns of the Black Rock Coast from travellers who claim to have soaked in the emerald ponds and awoken to find their cursed maladies banished by the pool’s healing properties. However, those who seek the hot springs with the intent of bottling the water for their own gain somehow never seem to reach the clearing regardless of how ardently they search.

The Hissing Fissure

A new scar upon the landscape this fissure was born of a recent tremor from the volcano, appearing worryingly far from the peak itself some way into the forest’s the South East.

The fissure's violent birth uprooted several of the great trees and released a foul cloud of poisonous gas that killed or sickened much of the animal life in the vicinity, thankfully the gas has dispersed now leaving behind naught but the smell of rancid eggs and the corpses of its victims.

The rent earth bubbles and hisses occasionally releasing small clouds of sulphurous steam, but otherwise seems stable, Folk are worried however and wonder if this is an isolated event or a sign of something far worse to come?

This weeks episode was forged in collaboration with Belinda Boardman, Skate Murray, Cameron Doyle, Scott Ryan and Leah Otäck. We loved having new contributors as well as returning ones. If you've been thinking about throwing your hat into the ring with a response, this is as good a week as any!

Guilds, Factions and Organisations

In any civilisation, there are always going to be groups defined by their differing beliefs. Whether it's how to live, who to follow, or some other form of moral code, as people, we're often compelled to sort ourselves into groups as a means of finding a place we belong. They could be political, economic, spiritual, community driven, or industrial. They could also be traditional or progressive, public or secret, inclusive or exclusive, formal or informal etc.

Membership within these groups tend form a part of our identity within society and dictate by association that "people like us do things like this".

This week's prompt is all about guilds, factions, and organisations within Sablereach and Firstshore. These will form the backbone of character backgrounds and political manoeuvrings actively going on in our setting during games. So tell us: What divides and unites our characters? How do they organise and identify themselves in groups? What do those groups stand for? What do they stand against? What are their goals? Who do they work with and where is there conflict? As always have fun, be creative and keep forging the world.

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*Leaders of Firstshore*

Senetta Norvenrik

Senetta Norvenrik is a stern, matronly figure within Firstshore. Her iron-grey hair is pulled back into a tight bun, with a pair of ornamental Orca-bone pins holding it in place, and her spotless white apron is unmistakable as she hustles about the tavern. She manages the Turning Wheel Inn, along with her husband Korin, who runs the kitchen. She has a knack for keeping her workers on track, and stopping fights before they break out. When safely out of ear shot, patrons joke that her tongue lashings are more effective than the cudgel her husband keeps under the counter.

She maintains a bounty board in the tavern, to keep pesky would-be heroes from bothering her for rumors of monsters, or tasks for quick coin. But despite her grumbles over flaky adventurers, she is often generous to those who return from the forests or seas triumphant - just not kind enough to ever give them a free meal, just an extra heel of bread, or more meat in their soup.

Kiora Whalebreaker

Kiora Whalebreaker is the oldest surviving sailor of the Big Hunt and a central figure in Firstshore. A half elf child seeking adventure, she stowed away on a ship that she expected to return to port in a week but ended up sailing for better horizons and landed in what was to become Firstshore many months after departure. Kiora spent her early days in Firstshore on the boats with the sailors she had befriended and as the traditions of the Big Hunt began to form, she joined in.

Now, decades later, Kiora is an experienced whale hunter, carrying a harpoon that she carved herself from the first Orca she killed. Broad shouldered and strong, her galley now leads the Big Hunt each winter, and many whalers experience their first hunt aboard her vessel. She knows each of her crew by name and takes losing a sailor personally, insisting that she be the one to inform family members of their loss. Kiora adorns her whaling garb with a small tooth or bone for each year she hunts and her leathers make a clinking noise as she paces the deck.

Kiora is adamant that the Big Hunt continues, amidst some rising tensions that think it should be phased out and replaced with less dangerous rituals. The whaling is something that she sees as sacred and important to the growing customs of her people. She is relatively even tempered and so often is sent to settle disputes and engage in diplomatic activities with the Tabaxi of Sablereach. The child in her would love to be given a chance fly on a glider as she wonders if it feels similar to sailing on the smooth ocean in Spring.

*Leaders of Sablereach*

Tugs on Whiskers

At first glance, you wouldn’t expect it but Tugs on Whiskers, or Tuggs as he’s more affectionately known is one of the most respected elders in Sablereach.

While his co councilmen and women are usually adorned with elaborately, well-made garments. Tuggs prefers simpler vestments like his opened cloth vest and billowing pants.

Although Tuggs public persona often comes across as childish and mischievous, in truth he holds both wisdom and knowledge in high esteem. Rarely seen without his signature wine skin, rumoured to be filled with a famous family recipe, outsiders might be quick to write Tuggs off as a drunkard, but in actual fact, many members of the clan come to Tuggs for training in preparation for The Proving. He offers this freely to members of the clan. Outsiders however will be made to earn his trust through a series of tests in order for him to train them.

The drunken master’s age remains largely a mystery as the power of Ki appears to have dramatically slowed his ageing process. However, no two young ones bold enough to ask have ever managed to get a straight answer.

Walks Through Endless Night (Night)

‘Night’ is largely considered the oldest Tabaxi in Sablereach, except for maybe Tuggs. Her once dark fur now more closely resembles the pale white of her eyes than the charcoal stones she used to sun herself on as a young one. Night is incurably blind and has been since birth, the price payed for her premonitions.

Although a great power both politically and spiritually she is also sometimes pitied, for although her visions allowed her to complete her proving, her blindness means she will never know the joys of gliding.

Night spends her most of her time seated in a specially made chair and covered in a mass of colourful blankets. She provides a steady counsel for the cat folk in times of uncertainty and while perhaps more earnest than her male counterpart, age has not dulled her wit or her mind.

Walk Through Endless Night guides the Tabaxi through these troubled times as a voice of reason and prophecy.

*Leaders of the Beyond*

Rage of Grief

Several years ago, on the night of the Proving, a young Tabaxi cub was denied their right to take part in the coming of age ceremony. They were told that they were not yet ready, and lacked the discipline required to sleight the giants of the sky.

The very next day, the cub snuck from Sablereach, stalking across the forest underbrush to the breeding grounds, and climbed. Reaching the canopy, it found a gigantic nest, and hid inside it amongst the eggs, eagerly awaiting its chance. Little did it realise that this nest belonged to one of the largest Rocs ever to sail the winds over the Black Rock Coast. A gnarled beast, unsighted in the region for years, existing in the shadowy area between history and legend. A great creature fabled to have lost an eye when she first winged across the oceans to roost in the region, now ill-fatedly returned.

When the beast descended to roost, the headstrong cub rushed forward too early and startled it. The creature clamored in surprise, destabilizing the nest, and plunging both the eggs, and the young cub, to be dashed on the ground below.

Now this Roc is a creature consumed by anger and mourning, whose name - Rage of Grief - is spoken only in hushed tones by the tabaxi cubs and the youth of Firstshore alike. She hunts all the landwalkers she can find, especially the catfolk, killing not just to sate her hunger, but often out of pure hatred. Even the bravest young dare not seek her nest during their trials.

Vedauntus
In forests steeped in natural power, ancient trees can sometimes awaken. These guardians of the verdant domain stand watch against nature's foes. So it was for one colossal grand fir that awakened in the ancient past to become Verdauntus, Warden of the Forest.

Deeply connected to his domain, Verdauntus spends the winter months indistinguishable from a normal tree (albeit a very large one). Deep in hibernation, he rouses only when the forest is gravely threatened. In the warmer months he patrols the deep forest - his vast silent strides disturbing neither the plants nor the animals below.

Verdauntus has little care for the settlers of Firstshore, in his mind they are still rather new - both fire and storm have done much more damage in shorter times in the past. However both Druids and Tabaxi worry that he will change if the dissidents amongst the settlers resume harvest the forest so greedily.

Lately, something else seems to trouble the ancient treant. More and more often he can be found standing at the forest's inland edge, gazing with deep concern at the volcano's smoking peak...

This week's episode was forged in collaboration with Cameron Doyle, Leah Ötack, Brent Walters, Holly Fox and Luke Cotte

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Sablereach

"Among other creatures, the forest surrounding The Black Rock Coast is known to be the home of a tribe of Tree Top Tabaxi. With their nimble surefootedness and natural climbing abilities, these feline folk are perfectly suited to scaling the soaring heights of the coast's colossal canopy hundreds of feet above the ground.

Known as Sablereach, the Tabaxi have made their home in the lofty crowns of the trees, seeking a haven out of the reach of most threats. The only other inhabitants in this sky-bound area are rocs, attracted to the behemoth trees well suited to their size, however, the tabaxi keep a respectful distance and live in a precarious harmony. The sole exception comes on a Tabaxi's tenth name day when it goes through a ceremony called the Proving. On this day, the young cub is tasked with taking a single feather from one of the majestic sky giants, which its family will use to complete its new glider, adorned with the feathers of various other birds of paradise, hunted and gathered throughout the course of their childhood."

Forged in collaboration with: Leah Otäck, Brent Walters and Jay Hickory

Firstshore

"The emerging frontier town set up on the Northern coastline, known as Firstshore, was named by a recent band of settlers that have made the Black Rock Coast their home.

For the settlers, the initial allure to this unique and strange land was the massive amount of wood that could be harvested and traded all over the world as well as the super hard volcanic rocks that scatter the coastline.

In the early days of Firstshore, the Settlers experimented with the volcanic rocks as a source material used in the creation of unique weaponry. Rumour has it that this spawned a handful of legendary magical weapons which still lie hidden somewhere within the region. Some of those who interact more closely with the people of Sablereach have described a deeply held cultural belief that the rocks are invested with the memory and essence of their ancestor's spirits - and that this is what imbues the stones and in turn the weapons, their power.

At the end of summer, as the weather turns chill and stormy, the fishing communities of Firstshore put down their nets and come together to prepare for the big hunt. With handspears and harpoons, they work together to bring down a pod of orcas migrating through the Northern seas. With many of the creatures as large as the boats they're dragged back in, a good haul will sustain the settlers through the long night.

The oil will bring light to their homes, the fat will be rendered down for salves and ointments to keep out the biting winds. Nothing is wasted, down to the last bone.

It is a dangerous hunt but those who go, go knowing they are providing for their families. Death is an acceptable risk for the bounty and those who die during the hunt are honoured. The teeth of the beast are carved with their names and carried by their loved ones in remembrance of what they gave to hold back the cold."

Forged in collaboration with: Michael Froend, Tom Dawe and Skate Murray

Mystery, Intrigue and Politics

“Deep in the forest resides a druidic clan, consisting predominantly of Genasi of Earth and Fire, who found that the strength of the elemental essence of the area grows deeper inland. Towards the volcano, powerful elemental forces threaten to emerge and destroy all they touch. These druids have taken it upon themselves to safeguard the area, and the Tabaxi tribes have made careful effort to keep these elemental custodians and the frontiersmen apart to avoid potential conflict.”

Though not all threats are deep in the heart of the land - the majestic Rocs rule the open skies above the canopy, and prey mostly upon the Orcas and other large ocean beasts as they rise for air. All manner of beasts stalk the forest’s underbrush, and whispers of stranger, darker threats litter the legends of the local Tabaxi. The ancient trees have bled rivers of sap that have formed underground streams of beautiful amber, coveted by the new settlers. The Tabaxi tribes hold the digging and mining of these amber veins in little regard, with no significance to their spirits or to the giant trees that form their homes.

While the peoples of Firstshore and Sablereach enjoy a tentative peace, things were not always this way. When the settlers first arrived on the Black Rock Coast, they were completely unaware of the values and traditions of the first people, and a cultural conflict was all but inevitable. Tensions came to a head, but thankfully, all-out crisis was able to be averted. Eventually, treaties of peace were brokered between the two nations, which stipulated the terms of their mutually beneficial and respectful coexistence."

Forged in collaboration with: Luke Cotte, Leah Leah Otäck, Skate Murray and Michael Froend.

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A huge congratulations and thank you to Tom Dawe for his contribution to our first prompt - The Natural World. Tom's response "The Black Rock Coast" has been made canon and will now form the bedrock of the early stages of our world build. You can read Tom's response below:

The Black Rock Coast

"On the vast coastline of the northern reaches of the world, there lies a vast stretch of beach and woodlands that span as far as the eye can see. The trees, huge Grand Fir and Bigleaf Maples, inhabit this forest. Their trunks grow to enormous sizes and soar hundreds of feet into the sky, creating a vast canopy of green that has never been fully explored. But the main focus of this area is the huge boulders of polished black volcanic rock that lay on the storm battered coast. They range from small pebbles you can hold your hand, to massive boulders over 10 metres tall and weighing more than any being save the mightiest of gods, can move. Not even the great forces of nature have touched these titanic rocks, spewn from a long extinct volcano that dominates the surrounding forest.

In the spring, the forest and coast comes to life as the wildflowers begin to bloom on the forest floor and the great trees leaves shine the brightest shades of green. The wild beasts and creatures emerge from their winter slumbers and begin to explore the forest for food."

Forge The World: Recent Episodes

Mike Drysdale, Matt Boardman and Kieran Hannigan