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“You said this was a fallen angel,” Thorn said. “How’s that different from a devil?”
Drego shook his head. “The two are completely different. Devils are tied to malevolent concepts – hate, fear, greed. What we’re dealing with is a radiant idol, an angel punished for pride by being imprisoned on Eberron. It still possesses its original appearance, more or less, and its powers are still tied to its original dominion.”
“So who are we dropping in on tonight?”
“Do not speak this name casually,” Drego said, and there was no trace of his usual levity. He traced lines in the air as he continued. “You must understand the sheer power of the being we face. He has likely influenced the lives of thousands of your countrymen, Thorn, and just speaking his name could draw unwanted attention to us.” He made a last flourish in the air, and Thorn could just make out a translucent pattern of rippling arcane energy that dulled all sounds beyond and kept Drego’s voice close. “Tonight we shall destroy Vorlintar, the Voice of the Innocent and the Keeper of Hopes, Fifth among the Fallen of Syrania.”
The shimmering glyph burst into flame, burning without substance, and then it was gone.
“Call him by his titles,” Drego said, “But do not speak his name.”
“Keeper of Hopes?” Brom said, and his chuckle echoed off the walls. “He doesn’t sound so terrible.”
“And he wasn’t, when he was a force for light. Now he holds to his dominions, but he has become a force for evil. He is indeed the Keeper of Hopes – the hopes that he has stolen from all those who fall under his sway. He devours innocence, leaving pain and despair. As we draw closer to his throne, you will feel his talons tearing at your mind. You must be strong and hold him at bay, for a clean death is far better than a life without hope.”
– From The Son of Khyber
The Sharn: City of Towers sourcebook introduced a new threat to the Eberron campaign setting: the radiant idol. Sharn is closely tied to Syrania, and we thought it would be interesting to introduce a new sort of fallen angel cast out of the sky. The Sharn book has this to say…
A radiant idol is an angel that has been banished from Syrania and condemned to spend eternity on the Material Plane. Not all radiant idols are evil, and none are as thoroughly corrupt as the fiends of the lower planes. Their greatest sin, as a rule, is the desire to be worshiped by the humanoids they consider lesser beings, and most gather cults of devoted humanoid followers on the Material Plane—thus giving rise to their common name.
I expanded on this in Exploring Eberron, noting…
Many sages believe that touching Eberron’s ground makes angels vulnerable to the influence of Khyber and the overlords, while others theorize that mortal worship—the positive energy that sustains the Undying Court—is like a drug to the dominions. Whatever the cause, dominions who interact with mortals run the risk of becoming corrupted. Such immortals crave mortal adoration and often seek to dominate mortals by exercising the power of their sphere. Not all dominions fall prey to this corruption, but once one does, there seems to be no way to undo it. Even if the angel is destroyed and reforms, the corruption remains. It’s unlikely that such an angel would be met in Syrania itself; typically, these corrupted angels are forever stripped of the power of flight and condemned to walk the Material Plane as radiant idols.
For me personally, a radiant idol brings a few interesting elements to a story. They have no connection to the major factions; they aren’t aligned with the Lords of Dust, the Daelkyr, or the Dreaming Dark. They don’t care about the Draconic Prophecy and they aren’t trying to take over the world; they just want to be adored. In a world where gods don’t walk the earth, it can be fun to have a cult where you can actually beat up their deity. Radiant idols are going to be a problem whenever you encounter them, but an idol is a problem you can solve—something that’s typically intensely regional. They make good monsters. And beyond that, they work well with the overall noir vibe of Sharn and Eberron overall… fallen angels; addicted to mortal worship; glorious and beautiful but bound to dirt and grime.
There are a many ways to base an adventure around a radiant idol…. here’s a few options.
Cult Mystery. The idol is actively recruiting and adventurers run across its spreading cult. Perhaps a friend or ally has a sudden change in behavior. The key question with a radiant cult is whether the cultists are being compelled supernaturally—forced to take a blood oath and terrified that the idol will torture or kill them if they reveal its presence, or simply compelled by charm—or whether they have simply been compelled by its innate charisma (and possibly dreams!) and truly believe in the idol. Perhaps they believe the idol will turn the world into a paradise. Perhaps they believe it will protect them from their enemies in exchange for their faith. In one adventure I ran, the idol convinced its followers that it could give the souls of people killed in a particular way eternal peace as opposed to the dissolution of Dolurrh, in a paradise far more pleasant than the grim lives they were living… compelling these cultists to murder their own loved ones believing the idol would preserve their spirits in a form of paradise (this is a variation of Kotharel the Harvester, an idol canonically imprisoned in Dreadhold). One of the things that distinguishes such a radiant cult from daelkyr cults is that their beliefs are usually very concrete: they interact directly with the source of their faith, whether it’s compelled by a blood oath or freely chosen. Daelkyr cults are typically driven by irrational belief; cultists of Dyrrn’s Transcendant Flesh will never meet Dyrrn and don’t even KNOW their group is tied to him; they are simply gripped by the belief that their flesh could be better. Members of Sul Khatesh’s Court of Shadows may revere the Queen of Shadows, but they will never MEET her. Radiant cultists interact directly with their idol. Which means that in a cult mystery story, the adventurers aren’t just investigating the cult; they can track it directly to its source and face the radiant idol. A few cult mystery points to consider…
Visible Cult. Rather than being a mystery that needs to be slowly unraveled, a radiant cult could be an active force within its community that adventurers will encounter openly. It could be recognized as a fringe religion, with outsiders failing to realize the idol is real—the people in Tumbledown have some weird beliefs… don’t go there on a festival day, is all I’m saying. Or it could be that the idol backs a force that adventurers may not initially identify as a cult. A violent new street gang starts fighting Daask and Boromar thugs in Callestan, guided by a War idol. A district has a volunteer police force that’s picking up the slack from the corrupt Sharn Watch. If they’re doing a good job, does it matter that they worship an Order idol? Adventurers come to a small agricultural village and find it thriving due to the influence of a Nature idol. But does this “Father of the Harvest” demand some sort of price from its followers? This is a solid option for a Children of the Corn scenario. But the interesting point here is is the idol actually a threat, or is it helping its followers? If the Father of the Harvest demands that people kill their parents and use their remains to fertilize the soil, that’s a problem. But what if it doesn’t do that? What if it just wants them to sing its praises and dance in the fields? What if that Order idol is making peoples’ lives better with its volunteer force? Is the idol of Joy actually harming anyone with its dionysian revels? Personally, I like radiant cultists to have a dark twist—as I’ll discuss further below, I like to call out that idols are fundamentally corrupted even if their core concept is pure. But even with that twist, there can still be the question of whether the adventurers are right to interfere. Imagine a Life idol who uses its ability to raise dead to resurrect slain members of its cult… but because of the balance of life, they must pay for the resurrection not with diamonds, but with another life. Perhaps they actually take volunteers—an old man sacrificing himself to give life to a child who died young. Perhaps they impose a death penalty on criminals within their community—do adventurers have the right to interfere with this? Or perhaps they murder travelers to buy life for their own. But again, the idol isn’t forcing them to do this… so what do the adventurers do when they find out?
Hidden Monster. In the story that opens this paragraph, Vorlintar is simply a monster. He is anchored in a desolate place most people never go. He pulls innocents into his orbit and drains them of hope. It’s not a story of slow investigation, and he’s not in a place the adventurers would ever normally go; instead, they learn of his presence and must go to him, entering his lair and discovering the horror he’s been perpetrating in this forgotten corner of the city. This is a simple way to introduce a powerful foe, and the idol could easily have something the adventurers need—a book or blade brought down from Syrania, an angel’s tear… or it could just be that the idol is anchored in a place the adventurers need to be, drawn to a point of power that the adventurers have a different use for.
Power Player. I tend to have my idols anchored in a particular location; a spider lurking at the heart of its cult web. But you COULD have an idol… say, an idol of Trickery… who is less interested in direct worship and more in being part of the game. It needs to be part of a web of deception and intrigue to feel alive, and it’s playing all sides and perhaps stirring up new conflicts within the criminal underworld of Sharn or the rivalries of Aurum Concordians. It could be that it has its own small cult within this tapestry—a few agents in every faction bound by its blood oath—or it could be content to just manipulate on its own. A question here is whether the idol itself is walking around Sharn, using magic to appear human (and having to be careful not to crash skycoaches with its flightless aura)… or if it is acting through a dominated host most of the time, only appearing personally when it needs to exercise its full force. Keep in mind that when it DOES act directly it can use alter self to appear as the person it usually dominates. So you could have a fun twist where the adventurers see the idol using powerful magic and are baffled later when they confront the “idol” and find them to be mortal.
Mechanically, radiant idols have no limitations on their movement. Just because they are often dropped in Sharn doesn’t mean that they have to STAY there. Sharn: City of Towers suggests that there can be up to six radiant idols in Sharn at a time, but it doesn’t explain why six is a magic number. In my campaign, it’s a territorial thing; idols can feel one another and if there’s more than six in one place if feels crowded, even if it’s a huge city and they aren’t stumbling over one another. So my murder-your-loved-ones idol was in Korth. The Father of the Harvest could be in a little farming village. Idols often start in Sharn but they don’t have to stay there. HOWEVER, I personally like my idols to have an anchor point—a place of power and security. They’re immortal embodiments of ideas, and their motivations aren’t like those of mortals; with the exception of “power players” as I described above, I see idols as wanting to sit on their anchors and bask in the adoration of their cultists. In Sharn, an anchor could be where they first appeared in the material plane. Or it could be a place that particularly resonates with their domain. So Vorlintar, an idol that consumes hope, is anchored in a ruined temple in the desolate distract of Fallen. It’s a double dose of despair, a place where faith failed to protect the people of the distract from a terrible calamity. An idol of war might be anchored beneath the Cornerstone of Sharn, drinking in the aggression of the duels and matches in the arena above… or in a district wracked by gang warfare. Where Vorlintar dwells in the lower city, I could imagine an idol of the tempest who is anchored in a high spire in Upper Sharn that draws lightning. Likewise, there could be a reason the Father of the Harvest has chosen a particular farming village as his anchor… what is it?
Mechanically, you could play up the place of power idea by giving an idol lair actions in its anchor point… or perhaps limiting it, saying it can only cast its highest level spells in its anchor. The 3.5 idol has greater teleport, and I like to allow an idol to teleport 1/day… but I only allow it to teleport to the location of either its anchor. So an idol that ventures out into the world can slip back to its anchor… but if you face it in its anchor point, there’s nowhere to run.
The first thing she saw were the angel’s wings – outspread and glorious, with long feathers as dark as a moonless night. Now the source of the chimes became clear, for there were chains attached to every feather. Strange weights were bound to the ends of the chains, weights of many shapes and sizes, engraved with symbols Thorn didn’t recognize. Their purpose was clear; for all his glory, Vorlintar could not rise from the ground.
Radiant idols embody ideas. As presented in Sharn: City of Towers, each idol has a domain. But WAR or LIFE or NATURE are broad concepts. Exploring Eberron suggests that most idols began as dominions of Syrania, and a dominion has a focus within a domain—a dominion is the Angel of Swords, not the Angel of War. This article discusses immortal personalities and might be spark some ideas. “Swords” may be too broad a concept, but with an Idol of War I could imagine…
These are three ideas I made up ON THE SPOT, and I’m sure I could do better. But it gives that point of a narrow aspect of a broad domain. Beyond that, while it is not in any way required, *I* like to have a radiant idol reflect a slightly corrupted, greedy aspect of its core idea. As in the opening story, Vorlintar has gone from observing hopes to stealing them. The Lord of Sacrifice is pushing cultists to make unnecessary (if heroic) sacrifices. The Giver of Life needs someone to die before it can raise dead. I like the fact that all radiant cults aren’t automatically vile—again, the idea of the Giver of Life using its abilities to cure wounds and raise dead to protect its cultists, creating an idyllic healthy community—but that even there, you’ve got the ethical twist of that health comes at a cost.
So the first question with an Idol is what is its defining concept and personality. For me, its appearance flows from that. When in its true form, the key elements of a radiant idol are that it inspires awe—that high Charisma and Aura of False Divinity—and that it can’t fly, and that there is something suggesting it has been cast down. The simplest way to represent this is with maimed wings—severed, broken, withered, burnt—but there are other options, like Vorlintar’s weighted chains. The key point is that an idol is an idea; when someone sees it they should understand what that idea is. Of course, this is the point to idols having disguise or alter self; they can HIDE their fallen nature.
A last point here is that while it’s easiest for idols to use an existing clerical domain, that shouldn’t be an absolute limitation. There’s no Domain of Hope for Vorlintar. Likewise, I think JOY is a great domain for a radiant idol, inspiring bacchanalian frenzies. It could be that these could be linked to existing domains—Joy could be based on Peace or Life—but a DM can always just make up a spell list that fits a concept that doesn’t match a domain.
In Eberron, immortals can’t be permanently destroyed, and this is as true for radiant idols as it is for any other immortal. Notably, when an idol is destroyed and reforms, it is still a radiant idol; if their corruption could be undone by death, they’d be killed instead of cast out of Syrania. So radiant idols can’t be permanently destroyed. But we never say HOW QUICKLY THEY COME BACK. Part of what I like about idols is that they are a problem that can be solved. With that in mind, I’d consider the following options.
This can vary by idol! Canonically, the radiant idol Kotharel the Harvester is sealed in Dreadhold because while it was defeated, it simply could not be destroyed. I could imagine an idol of Life who drains the life of an oath-bound cultist every time it’s dropped below 1 hit point; you can’t defeat it until you free its cultists from their bonds!
Radiant idols may claim to be gods, either Sovereigns or unique gods; alternately they could claim to be servants or representatives of Sovereigns. But they AREN’T gods. You can’t actually gain the powers of a cleric from a radiant idol. However, there’s a few possible loopholes. If a radiant idol impersonates a sovereign—the Lady of Lightning claiming to be Dol Arrah—then her cultists could be clerics or paladins of Dol Arrah, because they have faith in Dol Arrah; the power is still coming from a divine power source, it’s just not the idol itself. The point here is that the idol can’t take those powers away from them because it’s not given them the powers. Another option is to allow the radiant idol to cast its domain spells through cultists who have sworn a blood oath—so a Life idol could cure wounds through the hands of a cultist. The power is entirely controlled and drawn from the idol, but the cultist APPEARS to cast spells. I would also consider allowing an idol to produce a warlock following this same principle; the warlock’s powers come from the idol investing a fraction of its immortal essence in its servant.
Beyond this, I have no issue with allowing idols to break the rules to fit their story. As I suggested earlier, I’m fine suggesting that the Giver of Strength can give the benefits of heroism to anyone who’s sworn its Blood Oath. Each idol could give unique gifts to its cultists. But purely on a power level, radiant idols can’t create paladins or clerics; the best they could do is take advantage of someone’s faith, claiming credit for divine power that’s flowing from an actual divine power source.
A radiant idol could also be a source of magic items. Perhaps the idol’s blood acts as a magical potion (or a drug!), and it gives this to its cultists. In my adventure where the idol wanted people to murder those they cared about, it gave its cultists amulets they had to give to their victims, to ensure their spirits were channeled to the idol. I could see an idol of fire that could turn weapons into flame tongues by engraving its name on them… but when the idol is defeated, those things would likely lose power.
In both 3.5 and fifth edition, a radiant idol has a challenge rating of 11. They are powerful, yes, but not THAT powerful. In general, this is something I like about them. They’re powerful enough to be exciting, but weaker than daelkyr, the prakhutu of the Lords of Dust, or even powerful Inspired. However, that’s a base level, and radiant idols can be as powerful as you want them to be. In 3.5 canon Kotharel the Harvester is a 30 HD radiant idol who literally cannot be destroyed, hence his being stored at Dreadhold. The description of Vorlintar at the start of this article likewise suggests a level of power beyond the default radiant idol; radiant idols don’t generally have the ability to scry on people who speak their names, and Vorlintar also has what amounts to a feeblemind attack where he tears hope out from his victims and leaves them in a vegetative state. Just as Dyrrn and Belashyrra are more powerful than the generic daelkyr presented in the 3.5 ECS, you can create radiant idols that are more powerful than the base model. You can use a Planetar or Solar as a foundation for creating a more powerful radiant idol, shifting spell lists if necessary and adding the unique traits of the idol (including those I describe below)—Aura of False Divinity, Blood Oath, Flightless, Domain, Guide Thrall.
Last but not least… The radiant idol was introduced in Sharn: City of Towers. There’s a stat block for radiant idols in Eberron: Rising From The Last War, but it doesn’t incorporate a lot of what I consider to be the defining elements of the 3.5 radiant idol—ideas I’ve mentioned often in this article. Let’s take a look at those.
INNATE MAGIC. Per Sharn: City of Towers, radiant idols had the following spell-like abilities: At will—alter self, charm person, dream, heroism, nightmare, rage; 3/day—confusion, greater dispel magic, mind fog, slow; 1/day—dominate person, eyebite, hold monster, song of discord, greater teleport (self only). Let’s consider the function of these spells. Alter Self gives the angel the possibility of moving among mortals, and it can reduce itself from large to medium; alternately, it can simply shift its appearance to better fit the image it is creating for its cult, concealing its disfigurement and adding details that fit its God of ____ storyline. Dream and nightmare (which in 5E were combined into a single spell) allow it to influence and lure followers from a distance, as well as giving missions to its loyal cultists; it’s a small-scale Dreaming Dark, and potentially a fun surprise for the player who immediately assumes that when they stumble on someone being manipulated by dreams that quori are responsible. Confusion, mind fog, hold monster, song of discord, and mind fog all play to the idea of the idol’s supernatural charisma and its ability to overwhelm mortal minds, while dominate person is a great way for the idol to directly control a cult lieutenant. Keep in mind that in 3.5 rules, dominate person had a duration of 1 day per caster level; it’s interended to be a long term effect, again, the sort of thing they’d use to telepathically control a minion. Radiant idols also have the inherent power of glibness, which provides a +30 bonus to Deception checks made to convince someone of their honesty and makes them immune to any magic that would force them to tell the truth or reveal the truth of their words.
DOMAIN. S:CoT gives radiant idols a special gift:
Each radiant idol chooses one cleric domain to represent the portfolio it claims in its masquerade of divinity. The radiant idol gains the granted power of that domain, and can use each spell up to 6th level in that domain as a spell-like ability. It can use 1st-level spells at will, 2nd- and 3rd-level spells three times per day each, and 4th- through 6th-level spells once per day each.
For me, this is a crucial aspect of a radiant idol. It’s not just a generic idol; it is an idol of FIRE or an idol of LIFE. In Exploring Eberron I call out that Syranian angels have domains; this reflects that idea. It’s something that adds flavor but also means its idol has a distinct set of spell like abilities.
CULTISTS. The 3.5 idol has a number of powers that specifically tie to its role as cult anchor. FIts Aura of False Divinity afflicts enemies with despair, but grants allies within 30 ft the effects of Good Hope: Each affected creature gains a +2 morale bonus on saving throws, attack rolls, ability checks, skill checks, and weapon damage rolls. This plays up the idea that the idol FEELS DIVINE—that it feels awesome and terrible, able to crush or inspire hope just with its presence. A more dramatic feature is the Blood Oath. After an extended ritual, a radiant idol can form a connection with a cultist that allows them to locate and scry on the cultist, cause them pain, or even kill them outright. This oath can even be forced on unwilling participants, if they are restrained throughout the ritual and fail enough saving throws. This can create an interesting situation where a victim doesn’t believe in the idol, but knows that if the idol could be watching them at any time and that if they defy it, they could suffer pain or death. Which in turn means that adventurers opposing a cult need to recognize that the cultists they are fighting may be innocent victims just trying to save their own lives or the lives of people they care about.
FLIGHTLESS. Radiant idols cannot fly through any means. In addition, per S:CoT, Spells that grant flight to other characters fail within 30 feet of a radiant idol, as if it were at the center of an antimagic field, but only magic related to flight is affected. Magic items that grant the power of flight likewise fail. Even creatures with a natural ability to fly feel uncomfortable near a radiant idol.
HOW’S RISING STACK UP? The radiant idol in Rising From The Last War is a watered down version of the original idea. Its Aura of False Divinity can charm anyone within 30 feet. This is effective against enemies and implies supernatural charisma, but it lacks the original aspect of inspiring allies, which helps with the cult aspect of the story. There’s no mechanical aspect to being flightless; the idol doesn’t have a flying speed, but there’s nothing saying it can’t fly and nothing that stops other creatures from flying around it. Meanwhile, there’s some overlap in the spell list; the Rising Idol can use charm person at will and dominate person once per day, and mass suggestion is in the same sort of mood as dominate and charm, and replaces the nonexistent mind fog and song of discord. But then it has some very specific spells—raise dead, cure wounds at will, commune, insect plague. There’s no clear theme to these; raise dead is handy and insect plague is good for wrathful god, sure, but how do they relate to one another? Meanwhile, they notably lack dream, which is a great tool for a manipulative cult leader.
SO WHAT WOULD I DO? Without entirely redesigning the stat block, I’d change a few of its existing traits and add a few others, as outlined below.
Roll twice on the name column and combine the names together: Ranrael, Kastar-Ular. The wings column describes why it can’t fly but also suggests general appearance. Domain and Cult Focus gives a broad domain and a possible cult direction.
d8 | Name | Wings | Domain/Cult Focus |
1 | Kastar | Severed | Order. The cult seeks to bring order to the idol’s sphere of influence, stopping violence and crime, but also enforcing a dress code and restricting free speech. |
2 | Rael | Petrified | Forge. The cult is building a monument or weapons—or a monument that is also a weapon—that honor the idol. |
3 | Ular | Chained | Death. The idol promises a peaceful eternity to victims killed in a ritual manner; their souls are contained within the idol, preventing resurrection until the idol is destroyed. |
4 | Astul | Frozen | Life. The idol uses its magic to provide perfect health to its cultists—but for every cultist it heals, an innocent person suffers the malady removed. |
5 | Ran | Burnt | Peace. Cultists of the idol exist in a state of perfect, serene peace; however, they are incapable of taking any remotely aggressive action, even in the most desperate situations. |
6 | Avar | Glass | Trickery. The idol yearns to see intrigues unfold in the community, and dispatches its cultists to infiltrate factions and guilds to sow discord. |
7 | Tus | Broken | Knowledge. The cultists of the idol cannot lie and others find they cannot lie to the cultists. What chaos will this bring to a community that has a lot of skeletons in its closets? |
8 | Vala | Spectral | Nature. The idol can provide a community with bountiful crops and healthy stock… but there is a price for this supernatural prosperity. |
When I have time I answer questions from my Patreon supporters, as this support is what allows me to continue to create Eberron content. Here’s a few questions patrons posed on this article.
In Sharn the presence of Radiant Idol cults seems fairly prominent. With Idols being Large and likely not having subtle falls from grace, how does the city handle this eventuality? Are members of the Blackened Book prepared to handle a “live idol fall” or is their cast to the material more subtle? Does the Sharn Watch have methods of detecting the gravity well the Idols generate, etc?
In my Eberron, they aren’t that obvious. Being “cast down” to the material plane doesn’t mean they literally fall from the sky. In my game they appear in a place that’s suited to their nature—IE, the Giver of Strength might have appeared under Cornerstone, while Vorlintar appeared in Fallen. So you don’t have weather-oracles saying “There’s a 50% chance of falling idols today.” Likewise, I tend to have their cults manifest in places that aren’t all that obvious; the point of Vorlintar in The Son of Khyber is that no one cares about Fallen and so the cult goes unobserved… or in the case of the Giver of Strength, it could be that it takes a player character to notice the strange pattern of deaths. This ties to my general point that the world needs heroes—I want ADVENTURERS to deal with idols, not to have them just make a sending call to the Blackened Book’s Idol Squad. Canonically we know that Kotharel the Harvester was defeated by the Knights of Dol Arrah—which in my opinion was a legendary order of champions who might just as well have been player characters. Essentially, if a idol is too obvious in its manifestation and is causing havoc crashing lifts and skycoaches, the city could send the Redcloaks and Blackened Book to deal with it—but first, that’s why most idols WON’T be that clumsy and obvious and second, that’s going to be a tough fight for the forces of the law. This is a job for Harryn Stormblade, or at least the Harryn Stormblade of today, and that’s all of you. Regarding size, this is where magic comes into play. Rising stats only give them disguise self, but 3.5 let them alter self—which, in 3.5 allowed you to shrink a size category. So ORIGINALLY they were supposed to be able to move among humans unnoticed. I’d personally allow still them to do that; and if I didn’t, that’s the point of Guide Thrall, allowing them to telepathically control a cultist who can serve as their hands and eyes among the common people.
I certainly think that the Blackened Book KNOWS about radiant idols and has records of idols that have threatened the city in the past. But I don’t think that they are aware that there’s six idols in Sharn at any given time. And if you go to the Blackened Book and say There’s a radiant idol in Fallen! in my game, they’ll say Thank goodness it’s somewhere where we can ignore it! Last time one of those things turned up, it wiped out an entire watch station and it was only stopped when Boranel himself came and punched it into Dolurrh. Likewise, the Silver Flame has records of radiant idols, but in Sharn Ythana Morr will probably ask how much you’re willing to pay to have it dealt with (What? It’s in Fallen? Why would anyone even care?) while Mazin Taza would WANT to help you deal with this threat, and might even try to take it on himself… but he doesn’t have the power to deal with a radiant idol, and trying will just get him killed. This is on you, adventurers!
How do other cultures deal with radiant idols, either cases like the Mror or the Zil that may view them differently or outlying cultures like the Dhakaani?
Radiant idols aren’t COMMON and I think it’s entirely plausible that there’s never been a radiant idol in the Mror Holds. If there has been, odds are good that it was JUST ONE — something that spawned a particular story about the bold deeds of Mroranon crushing the wingless angel, but not that has created a cultural attitude.
With the Zil, I could go in one of three very different directions. The first would be to say that the Trust would swiftly identify an idol and eliminate it as quickly as possible whenever it appeared. Why do I say this is possible in Zilargo when it’s beyond the Blackened Book in Sharn? Because it’s THE TRUST, and that’s kind of the point of the Trust; they are terrifyingly efficient and effective, and they are scarier than an idol. The second option is to say that an idol of Knowledge or Trickery might actually find a comfortable home in Zilargo — that a particular Zil family could have a symbiotic relationship with a hidden idol, providing it the adoration it craves in exchange for its knowledge or gifts. Again, I see most idols as having a maximum effective range; they aren’t TRYING to conquer the world, and a radiant cult could happily thrive in a particular village for centuries without ever being known to the outside world. So there could easily be a Zil family who has worked out a decent arrangement with “Grandfather”… as long as you don’t reveal the secrets, he won’t kill you through your blood oath, and everyone’s happy! The final option is to combine the two: the Trust is aware of radiant idols and THE TRUST has absorbed idols of either Knowledge or Order and made them part of their whole system. Are adventurers about to interrogate a Trust agent with amazingly important secrets? Too bad, Oversight just activated his blood oath and killed him.
The Dhakaani have absolutely dealt with radiant idols, because Sharn is a nexus of idols and Sharn began as a Dhakaani city. Part of my point is that defeated idols may take centuries to reform… and have reformed and been destroyed multiple times throughout the history of the city. So there could be Dhakaani tales of Vorlintar or the Giver of Strength, and their appearances in the present day are just their latest of many incarnations.
How do radiant idols clash with other supernatural forces? For instance, how do bonded cultists interact with daelkyr influence, and how do radiant idol dreams conflict with quori dreams?
Radiant idols are unique individuals. They have no particular means to be aware of daelkyr influence or quori schemes, or to be given special treatment by these greater powers. The idol’s ability to influence dreams is the dream spell, no more or less. So if both the quori and an idol are trying to influence the same person, both can; it’s going to be frustrating for both of them realizing that they are playing tug of war. I think it’s quite valid for a party of adventurers to be tipped off about a radiant idol by a Dreaming Dark agent who wants them to get rid of this immortal interloper who’s stumbled into their sandbox. Likewise, there’s no rules or limits regarding what the daelkyr can do. You could have a cult that’s both influenced by a daelkyr AND bound by an idol’s blood oath. You could say the daelkyr influence breaks the blood oath. Or you could have Dyrrn twist an idol and create something horrible and new, blending the traits of the daelkyr and the idol.
That’s all for now! Feel free to discuss the topic in the comments, but I won’t be answering further questions. Thanks again to my Patrons for making these articles possible!
At the dawn of creation, the blood of Siberys rained down upon the surface of Eberron, blending the essence of the two Progenitors. This union produced the first dragons. While mortal, they were infused with the mystical power of the Dragon Above; magic is as much a part of a dragon as blood or scale. When Siberys’s blood struck the high mountain peaks, the silver dragons were born. Where it struck the desert, brass dragons emerged from the sand. Where it fell into the oceans, bronze dragons emerged from the water. These glittering dragons were echoes of the perfection of the Progenitors. But they weren’t alone. Foul Khyber was bound beneath Eberron, and as the blood of Siberys soaked down into the soil, the influence of Khyber rose up. And so a second wave of dragons were born… still the children of Siberys and Eberron, yes, but touched by the essence of Khyber. Instead of the beautiful metallic scales of the first generation, these younger dragons had scales of flat, base colors—a visible sign of their weakness of body and spirit.
This is the bitter truth of our chromatic cousins: they carry the legacy of Khyber in their blood and on their scales. Consider the favored form of the Daughter of Khyber. Consider how much stronger her influence is over these dragons than we pure metallics—something seen even in the best of times in their aggressive temperaments and sharp tongues. We cannot blame our cousins for this weakness; we can only pity them, and be even vigilant lest they fall prey to their baser nature.
-The Loredrake Ourenilach
When creating Eberron, we made a conscious decision to take new approaches to many well known monsters. Eberron has honorable gnolls and the orcs protect the world from demons and daelkyr. Halfling barbarians ride dinosaurs. Giants aren’t tied to the Ordning. As for dragons, the Eberron Campaign Setting says “Dragons come in all alignments; it is as common to encounter a good red dragon as it is an evil gold dragon. Usually, dragons aren’t monsters in the typical D&D sense; heroes won’t barge into a dragon’s lair looking to plunder its treasure. Instead, dragons are either aloof and unapproachable, or they are curious and manipulative, pulling strings from behind the scenes or trying to influence the world and the Prophecy in arcane ways.”
In this article, I want to address a number of questions about dragons. Do dragons in Eberron have the same personalities assigned to the colors in the Monster Manual? If not, what are the meaningful differences between chromatic and metallic dragons? What inspiration can I use for quick draconic encounters? Do all dragon follow the Thir faith? For more on dragons, I previously answered some questions tied to Fizban’s Treasury of Dragons in this article; meanwhile, this article looks at why dragons usually aren’t our friends. This topic was proposed on my Patreon and addresses questions raised by patrons; check it out here if you want to influence future articles!
In the default lore of Dungeons & Dragons, metallic dragons are the virtuous scions of Bahamut while chromatic dragons are the evil spawn of Tiamat. Beyond alignment, this is reflected in their regional effects and lair actions; Silver dragons generate zephyr winds around their lairs that gently catch innocent people who fall in the mountains, while blue dragons produce endless storms and malevolent dust devils. In fifth edition, black dragons aren’t just described as being evil, they FEEL evil, fouling nearby water supplies and inducing despair in the creatures around their lairs. But Eberron strips this away; you’re as likely to encounter a good red dragon as you are an evil gold. If that’s the case, why even have the distinction? What’s the meaningful difference between a black dragon and a copper dragon?
In Eberron, draconic alignment and behavior are a matter of choice. But lair actions and regional effects are biological, determined by the color of the dragon. A powerful blue dragon may choose to be heroic, but it’s still going to generate fierce thunderstorms anywhere it settles. A powerful black dragon fouls water sources regardless of the dragon’s alignment. Overall, the practical fact is that chromatic dragons shape the environment in ways that feel malevolent, while metallics typically have more positive effects. Among the dragons themselves, this is attributed to the influence of Siberys and Khyber. As presented by the loredrake Ourenilach at the start of this article, many dragons believe that the metallic dragons are the pure children of Siberys and Eberron—while the chromatic dragons are fundamentally corrupted by the touch of Khyber. Proponents of this theory point to the malign regional effects as evidence of this. And while any dragon CAN fall prey to the influence of the fiendish overlord known as the Daughter of Khyber, chromatic dragons are more susceptible to her influence; likewise, their eggs are more easily corrupted to create Spawn of Tiamat.
So black dragons DO foul water and generate entangling undergrowth. But that’s just part of being a black dragon, not the result of any actual malevolence of the dragon. It’s likely one reason Vvaraak chose the Shadow Marches as her beachhead in Khorvaire rather than the Towering Wood: as a powerful black dragon, she had less of an impact on the environment by settling in an existing swamp. It’s worth noting that only legendary dragons produce environmental effects… and this in turn is a reason for the Chamber to use younger dragons as its undercover operatives. If a powerful blue dragon settles in Sharn, the city will be lashed by powerful storms and plagued by dust devils.
A side effect of this is that there often ARE more evil chromatic dragons than evil metallic dragons—because being a chromatic dragon is HARDER than being a metallic dragon, and it can take a toll on the psyche of the dragon. As a blue dragon it can be depressing living under constant storm clouds, and those dust devils are kind of like draconic lice. Meanwhile, everyone loves Shiny the Silver and their life-saving zephyrs. So this can contribute to chromatic dragons being more likely to be angry or cruel than their metallic cousins. But most shrug this off… and as we see with Vvaraak, Ourelonastrix and Dulahrahnak, chromatic dragons can be champions.
While only legendary dragons produce full six-mile radius environmental effects, most older dragons generate these effects to some degree; they are a reflection of the raw arcane power of the dragon. Within Argonnessen, these effects have been harnessed in many ways. Storm spikes catch lightning and store it as arcane energy; you’ll find these spikes anywhere powerful blue dragons dwell. Gold dragons often act as dream guides, and it was a team of gold dragons that created the epic Draconic Eidolon in Dal Quor. Meanwhile, communities that support black dragons use powerful cleansing stones to maintain pure water supplies; it’s quite possible that a Chamber agent helped the architects of Sharn develop the water purification systems of the city precisely so they wouldn’t be fouled by a resident black dragon.
When thinking about a personality for a dragon from Argonnessen, consider the archetypes presented in Dragons of Eberron. The religion of Thir maintains that dragons have the potential to ascend and become divine beings—to become the Sovereigns, governing reality until a new aspirant takes on the mantle. Even if a dragon isn’t striving to become a Sovereign, the archetypes still offer a clear path in life. And an archetype can be an easy way to give a dragon goals. Most dragons may not care about amassing wealth, but a Master of the Hoard is defined by their treasures. A Loredrake is always interested in arcane knowledge. So, consider the following…
A patron observed that because Eberron’s dragons throw out the good and evil stereotypes presented in the Monster Manual, it can be difficult to use existing adventures or material. I sympathize with this in principle. You’re in a hurry, you like the description of the black dragon in the Monster Manual, and you just want to throw it in an adventure… but are you somehow breaking Eberron by doing it? Well, there’s a place for everything in Eberron. The gnolls of the Znir Pact defy the gnoll lore of the Monster Manual, but you can apply that lore to the gnolls who are still bound to one of the overlords.. Looking back to the ECS, it said that USUALLY dragons aren’t monsters in the typical sense; they are masterminds and manipulators, scholars and observers. But if you just want to have a black dragon sitting on a hoard in a swamp? There’s a few ways to handle this.
The Monster Manual provides a lot of flavor for different types of dragon. According to the MM, black dragons “collect the wreckage and treasures of fallen peoples. These dragons loathe seeing the weak prosper and revel in the collapse of humanoid kingdoms. They make their homes in fetid swamps and crumbling ruins where kingdoms once stood.” A black dragon “lives to watch its prey beg for mercy, and will often offer the illusion of respite or escape before finishing off its enemies.” In Eberron, this definitely doesn’t apply to ALL black dragons. But it could be true of a particular black dragon. While we’ve only named a few in canon, there are supposed to be rogue dragons who have spawned terrifying legends throughout history. You could use this to explain the Monster Manual lore—to say that that lore is taken from an in-world draconomicon that asserts that all black dragons are cruel and all blue dragons are tyrants based on the actions of individual rogue dragons encountered in history. So, to make up a few rogues…
These five ideas all play to the Monster Manual stereotypes… the sadistic black dragon hoarding relics of a previous age, the blue tyrant, the treacherous green. But these are specific individuals who happen to have those personality traits. It’s not that all red dragons are greedy—it’s that JHARAASHTA was greedy, and because he’s a rogue who actually interacted with humanoids, scholars assert that all reds are greedy. This ties to the point that you could take the personality traits or hooks presented in the Monster Manual and apply them to ANY dragon. Even here, Rime could be a silver dragon instead of a white, if for some reason that better suits the story you want to tell.
“Random Dragons” could be foundlings who never had the education of a child of Argonnessen. They could be rogues or exiles. But perhaps there’s more to their actions than first meets the eye… perhaps the dragon that’s been sitting on the hoard in the Burning Hills for the last two centuries has actually been stationed there waiting for the adventurers to arrive, because this is the moment when the Son of the Storm has to overcome adversity and sieze the Blade of the Falling Star. For the adventurers, they think they are fighting a monster and stealing its hoard. The dragon can’t just give them the sword; to fulfill the Prophetic condition they have to fight for it. But boy, after spending the last 200 years establishing this set piece, the dragon is going to be SO glad when the damn adventurers finally steal the sword and they can go home. Even the Bad Apples described above could be actors; building up the reputation as “Rime” because that’s somehow necessary to lock in a particular Prophetic path.
Are you looking for a dragon to be the classic villain in a simple tale, jealously guarding its hoard or protecting a legendary artifact? Thelanis is the answer to your problem. Consider the Lonely Mountain in The Hobbit. As a Thelanian manifest zone, it could be unnaturally rich in resources… the story of “wondrous wealth”. But as that’s discovered and people pour in, the story shifts to “deadly greed” and the dragon manifests to kill the miners and claim the hoard. In this version of the story, the Arkenstone could be a Thelanian artifact — the stone of impossible beauty — but the hoard could also contain lesser magic items created by the miners before the dragon came for the hoard. The point here is that Smaug exists because this is a story about a hoarding dragon. He didn’t fly in from somewhere else and he has no ties to Argonnessen; he appeared when the story needed a dragon, and now he remains because the dragon guarding the hoard continues to be a good story. While he is a product of Thelanis and the manifest zone, he has become real; he COULD fly away from the mountain to ravage Laketown. But it’s not something he could or would do casually; looking at The Hobbit, the idea would be that the people of Laketown celebrating the dwarves and THINKING about the mountain and the treasure draws the dragon to them, playing out the story. If the dragon was somehow kept out of the manifest zone for a long time it might shrivel or weaken — but it could dart out for a raid and return.
What differentiates these Storybook Dragons from the Bad Apples described above? Largely it would be about the complexity of the character. The Venom Queen is a little like Maleficent—the powerful mystical neighbor who might get pissed if she’s not invited to the christening. But most of the Bad Apples ended up getting involved in local politics and history. Jharaashta dealt with the Empire on an ongoing basis. The point of Storybook Dragons is that they ultimately aren’t REAL; they’re just the IDEA of a dragon. And lest it go without saying, this same concept could apply to any other creature. You could have a cloud giant tied to an airborne Thelanian manifest zone who embodies the idea of a monster in the sky but who doesn’t actually interact with the world below in any meaningful way.
We know very little about draconic culture and history. A broad implication is that it’s been a monolithic force since the Age of Demons. Personally, I don’t think it was monolithic then, and I don’t think it’s continued in an unbroken path. The reason the dragons remain isolated in Argonnessen is because of their fear of the Daughter of Khyber, and I don’t think you adhere to that for tens of thousands of years unless you’ve had clear evidence that it’s an existential threat. Personally, I think there’s been two serious cataclysms within draconic civilization that have rocked even Argonessen, and likely a few smaller collapses that only affected outposts established beyond it. I’ve already said that I think there was a widespread dragon civilization on Khorvaire sometime before the Age of Giants that collapsed due to the Daughter. It’s even possible that the destruction of Xen’drik had terrible consequences for Argonnessen—that such a dramatic exercise of their power caused a surge of cult activity on Argonnessen and a bitter civil war. Why does this matter? Because it means there could be draconic artifacts on Khorvaire tied to a civilization that no longer exists, things unknown even to Argonnessen. This could be an opportunity for adventurers to stumble across something even the Chamber has forgotten. And if it’s tied to a forgotten civil war between dragons, it could be a threat to the wyrms of the present day. While Ourenilach suggests that chromatic dragons are most vulnerable to the Daughter of Khyber, I like the idea that even if this is true, chromatic dragons of the past (such as Ourelon) could have crafted magic items to help them resist this, meaning that it could have been arrogant metallics who were the villains in the first great world war between Argonnessen and the dragons of Khorvaire…
An in-depth look at Argonnessen is beyond the scope of this article, but I want to touch on a few points that should help inform encounters with dragons from Argonnessen. Dragons of Eberron covers Argonnessen and I did work on that sourcebook, but I feel it doesn’t hit all the notes I’d like to hit if I were writing it alone, so here’s a few thoughts.
My touchstone for the dragons of Eberron are the Vorlons of Babylon Five—an incredibly ancient and powerful civilization that remains in isolation from the younger races while conducting its enigmatic war against the Shadows (IE, the Lords of Dust). By the rules of 3.5 dragons were not only incredibly intelligent, they were all innate spellcasters. Even without taking any class levels (and 3.5 had classes designed specifically for dragons!) a typical great wyrm could cast 9th level sorcerer spells. And one of the basic principles of Eberron is if Arcane magic existed, wouldn’t it become a tool of civilization? So think of the everyday magic of Khorvaire, and now imagine that EVERYONE in society can perform arcane magic—and that if you live long enough, you might be able to cast wish just using your own inherent power.
With this in mind, I feel that this takes the idea that sufficiently advanced science would seem like magic in a different direction: sufficiently advanced MAGIC would seem like magic. Meaning that the magic of the dragons is so advanced (and often, drawing on their own innate power) that wizards and artificers can’t comprehend the techniques. This ties to the idea that dragons can create artifacts and eldritch machines—things that go beyond what can be done with simple artifice. They can curse entire continents, leaving effects that still remain in force tens of thousands of years later. Within Argonnessen itself, there could be an arcane infrastructure that is all but invisible. Imagine seeing what seems to be a simple valley flanked by hills and caves. But should you detect magic, you’ll sense the massive energy flowing through artificial ley lines (generated by blue dragons and storm spikes…) and when the local dragon council gathers for their meeting a structure formed of walls of force will shimmer into existence. How does Argonnessen support its large dragon population? Well, if we assume dragons actually eat standard food, there’s a few options. Those who enjoy eating can conjure the food they need; the dragons of the Vast use the magebred bolatashi to keep the region stocked with dinosaurs and other suitable prey. But the dragons also long ago learned to mass produce goodberries—or, more likely, crafted wells imbued with the same life-sustaining magic, so a single drink provides all the sustenance you need for a week. And here again, the point is that this may not LOOK advanced to the casual observer; oh look, it’s a marble well. But look closer and you’ll recognize it’s an eldritch machine that can sustain a city.
Again, the key point here is that in setting up Eberron, we made the decision that for the most part, its dragons weren’t monsters; they are “either aloof and unapproachable, or they are curious and manipulative, pulling strings from behind the scenes or trying to influence the world and the Prophecy in arcane ways.” Consider the common trope of advanced aliens interacting with pre-warp civilizations. Some are observers trying not to interfere with the lives of the creatures they are studying; others are rogues using the younger species for entertainment.
Dragons of Eberron gives the sense that Argonnessen is very monolithic—for example, that all of the dragons of Argonnessen embrace Thir. DoE suggests that the Thousand is just made up of different families; I see it as being comprised of different cultures. Again, I don’t have the time to explore this in depth now. But I’d definitely imagine…
… That’s just a start. All of this is on top of the Light of Siberys—which you can think of as Starfleet, a force that serves the United Federation of Dragons—and the Tapestry, which is where dragons of different cultures actively work together and share their philosophies. And on the other end you have the Vast, which is specifically maintained as a preserve where any dragon can live as they choose… in some ways, it’s the dragon equivalent of The Purge.
Argonnessen isn’t only inhabited by dragons, and Dragons of Eberron discusses the role of nondragons in each of the major regions. The most populated and diverse is the Vast…
The Vast has the highest nondragon population of any of the territories. These lesser races have been brought to Argonnessen over the course of a hundred thousand years. Hobgoblins, whose ancestors were saved from the downfall of the Empire of Dhakaan, still sing the songs of the duur’kala… Elves, whose ancestors were brought from the shores of Xen’drik long before the elf–giant wars, know nothing of the Undying Court or the Tairnadal. There are nondragons never seen in Khorvaire, members of races that were exterminated by the giants or the daelkyr. The range of communities that can be found are dizzying. Some are metropolitan, with members of a dozen races living under one roof. Other communities are genetically isolated, steadfastly preserving secrets of their forgotten cultures.
Humanoids in the Vast are essentially toys for the dragons that live there. “To a dominion lord, nondragons are an extension of his hoard.” Guides of the Weak often interact directly with humanoids, either dominating them as tyrants or working as mentors. Wyrms of War play wargames with humanoids, whether pitting their humanoids against those of other Dominion Lords or engaging in direct dragon-to-dragon conflict to seize humanoid holdings. Here’s a table you could use to generate a community players encounter in the Vast…
Humanoids in the Vast
d12 | Species | Who… |
1 | Dhakaani Dar | … have perfectly preserved their original culture |
2 | Borunan Ogres | … have half-dragons incorporated into their culture |
3 | Xen’drik Giants | … have been reduced to feral savagery |
4 | Ghaash’kala Orcs | … are pacifists protected by their dominion lord |
5 | Dragonborn | … have a ruthless culture devoted to war |
6 | Lizardfolk | … are more arcanically advanced than modern Khorvaire |
7 | Xen’drik Elves or Drow | … employ powerful primal magic |
8 | Sarlonan Humans | … worship their dominion lord as a deity |
9 | Five Nations Blend | … have been altered by a powerful manifest zone |
10 | Forgotten Species | … have just been seeded in their current location |
11 | Other | … have a unique culture that’s survived for millennia |
12 | Roll Twice | Roll Twice |
Forgotten species is the idea of a form of humanoid that is entirely unknown in the present day, such as the proto-Dar I’ve mentioned a few times. “Other” could include yuan-ti, shulassakar, Lorghalen gnomes, Tairnadal elves, dwarves from the Realm Below… or even a unique species magebred by the dragons that doesn’t exist anywhere else.
In other regions, humanoid civilizations always serve some sort of draconic purpose. The Light of Siberys maintains an army of dragonborn and giants, ready should they ever be needed. Within the Tapestry and the Thousand, there’s a few different purposes for humanoid civilizations…
This question came up on my Patreon, and it’s a very deep cut. But since it deals with dragons, I’ll add my answer here. The Kech Draguus weren’t mentioned in Exploring Eberron, and I believe the only canon source for them is a Dragonshard article I wrote, which states Long ago, a rogue gold dragon formed an alliance with a clan of Dhakaani hobgoblins. Now this Kech Draguus has emerged from hiding. With a corps of half-dragon goblinoids and a few full-blooded dragons at its disposal, the Kech Draguus are poised to reshape Darguun.
Fifth edition adds a twist that adds an entirely new aspect to the Kech Draguus. In fifth edition, gold dragons have an affinity for dreams. A legendary gold dragon has the following regional effect: Whenever a creature that can understand a language sleeps or enters a state of trance or reverie within 6 miles of the dragon’s lair, the dragon can establish telepathic contact with that creature and converse with it in its dreams. The creature remembers its conversation with the dragon upon waking. Such a dragon also has the following Lair Action: One creature the dragon can see within 120 feet of it must succeed on a DC 15 Charisma saving throw or be banished to a dream plane, a different plane of existence the dragon has imagined into being. Now, the first key question is what is meant by “A dream plane”. Is this Dal Quor or just a completely isolated demiplane of the dragon’s imagination? Personally, I would use it as banishing the victim to Dal Quor, to an island in the Ocean of Dreams that has been imagined by the dragon. So, taken together, legendary gold dragons have a strong tie to Dal Quor: they can create dream islands and send people there temporarily, and they can find and communicate with mortal dreamers who dream nearby, causing the dreamer to remember the conversation — meaning, they induce lucid dreaming in the people they interact with.
First of all, this idea says to me that in fifth edition Eberron, gold dragons played a crucial role in the creation of the Draconic Eidolon—the draconic gestalt that can preserve dragon souls after death. Second, while the Lair Action is primarily intended as a short term, temporary attack, I would allow a gold dragon to transport a willing mortal for a longer period of time — meaning, if you have a need to physically get to Dal Quor, you need to find a legendary gold dragon. With all THAT in mind, let’s get back to the Kech Draguus.
The canon information is that a rogue gold dragon formed an alliance with a clan of Dhakaani hobgoblins. The dreaming abilities of gold dragons are regional, so I would shift “clan” to “city”. This dragon forged an alliance with a Dhakaani city, protecting the city in the waking world and guiding its citizens in their dreams. This dragon admired the Uul Dhakaan and the Dhakaani principles, and worked with the Kech Uul. However, its love and loyalty were first and foremost for the city it had formed an attachment to; it was respected by the Kech Uul but didn’t work closely with them. Then the Xoriat incursion comes along. The dragon helps to protect its “children” but it can only do so much. The dragon works with the leaders of the city to prepare the sanctuary vault, and in time they flee into the depths and the long isolation—becoming the Kech Draguus.
Here’s where things get interesting. The canon line says that the Draguus have a FEW full-blooded dragons, along with HALF DRAGONS. As far as I know, fifth edition doesn’t have half-dragons in the same way 3.5 did — creatures that are genetically part dragon, anything from humans to rats. Our most infamous half-dragon in Eberron is Erandis Vol, and some people have assumed that means Argonnessen will exterminate all half-dragons. That wasn’t actually meant to be the case; the issue with Erandis was the attempt to produce an Apex Mark and to move it onto dragons. Many Argonnessen dragons find half dragons to be CREEPY, but they aren’t Kill On Sight. There are some half-dragons among the Serens and in the Light of Siberys; some lords of the Vast likely create their own half-dragons. For purposes of easily dropping half-dragons into the Kech Draguus, I might just make them dragonborn sorcerers. But I like the idea of playing with the regional effects of the gold dragon and saying that gold half-dragons are innately lucid dreamers. Meanwhile, looking to the idea that the Kech has a few full-blooded dragons, I’d make those children of the founder… but the fact that there’s more than one means that they have the potential to spread out while still maintaining a presence in both the waking world and the Uul Dhakaan. So if I were to do something with the Kech Draguus, I’d play up the idea that they dwell both in the physical world and in the Uul Dhakaan itself and that because of this they consider themselves to be the most true to the core ideals of the Empire. It could be that they are just trying to reestablish the Empire as it was in the present day… But they could have a more exotic goal. Perhaps they want to help all Dhakaani permanently, physically immigrate to the Uul Dhakaan! A second question is how they interact with the Dreaming Dark. It could be that the quori leave them alone; the Uul is a stable mass dream, and that’s good for il-Lashtavar. It could be that the Kech Draguus is actively fighting quori forces that are laying siege to the Uul. OR… it’s quite likely that the Turning of the Age will destroy or at the very least transform the Uul Dhakaan. Perhaps the Devourer of Dreams has demonstrated this to the leaders of the Kech Draguus, both human and dragon—and they now are aligned with the Dreaming Dark in doing whatever they can to prevent the turning of the age!
Certainly. The green dragon known as the Emerald Claw didn’t act alone. There was a faction of dragons within the Thousand that supported the efforts of the Emerald Claw, and there was a fullscale conflict between dragons that took place in Argonnessen even as battles were raging on Aerenal. Many of the dragons who supported the experiment were slain, but there are certainly some who chose to stand down. However, it’s important to recognize that these dragons weren’t in an way acting for the good of elves or the younger races. They were working to create a half-dragon with an apex dragonmark, because they saw this as a crack in the door to potentially control the Prophecy itself. The supporters of this project believed that it could at the very least allow them to defeat the overlords and Lords of Dust once and for all, and potentially to gain the power of the Progenitors themselves; the majority that opposed it felt that it was both hubris and far too dangerous, with the potential to destroy Argonnessen itself. But there were a significant number of dragons who opposed the destruction of the Line of Vol—including some who actually fought against it.
That’s all the time I have. I won’t be answering further questions on this topic, but feel free to discuss it in the comments. if you do have questions for me, join my Patreon—thanks to the patrons who make these articles possible!
Imagine that your world is a plaything for cruel gods. There’s no escaping them; every corner of reality falls under the dominion of one of these fiendish overlords. Their power manifests in countless horrifying ways. In the domain of the Gatekeeper, you can hear lost souls wailing in the wind… and you know that if you die, yours will join them. In Bel Shalor’s realm, your shadow conspires against you… and some day, it will kill you and claim your body as its own. Dral Khatuur brings slowly advancing, inevitable ice. But the greater and more subtle threats strike at your mind. Within the realm of Rak Tulkhesh you’ll find your anger surging. You find yourself gripping a knife you don’t remember picking up. You keep thinking about your enemies. A week ago you didn’t even know you had enemies… but now it’s hard to think about anything else. The hatred is like fire in your blood, and the only thing that will sate your rage is violence. Perhaps—perhaps you can overcome this brutal haze, to realize that these aren’t your thoughts. But the longer you stay, the more your own memories and motives will fade away in the bloodthirsty fog. This is the power of the overlords. You’ve never seen Rak Tulkhesh, but he’s in you… and soon you’ll be ready to kill for him.
Whether they twist your thoughts or the environment around you, there’s no escaping the influence of the overlords. But you have more direct threats to worry about. To Rak Tulkhesh you’re one of hundreds of thousands of fleas; his hungry wrath sweeps over you, but he won’t manifest personally to strike you down. And he doesn’t have to, because the world is filled with fiends. Some flaunt their horrifying forms and delight in spreading terror and bloodshed; others conceal their true nature and wear the faces of people you love or trust. Demons can possess corpses or beasts… or, for that matter, your body. Perhaps you’ll have to watch as one of Tul Oreshka’s vicious children uses your hands to murder your best friend and then paints a perfect, heartbreaking portrait of them using your fingers and their blood. Fiends could be in the plants around you, in the words you read, in the sword in your hand. If you’re lucky you’ll still have a strong enough sense of self to be able to feel fear and horror at what’s happening around you.
This is life in the Age of Demons. But who are you in this time? You might live in a thatched hut with your extended family. You might be hiding in a network of caves with two other survivors, and you’re pretty sure one of them is possessed. Or you might live in an ancient, crumbling city filled with scheming factions. Your may feel that your time is coming, but the oracle has seen a vision of dragons filling the sky with fire; she says that by nightfall tomorrow, your city will be in ruins. All of this depends on the whims of the overlords. Over the course of a hundred thousand years, the inhabitants of the realm of the Wild Heart have never been anything other than prey. While in the domain of Sul Khatesh there have been a dozen civilizations in that same period, each of which eventually followed a path of arcane science that ultimately destroyed it. But even where you find civilizations, they aren’t free. The subjects of Sul Khatesh can’t resist abusing magic any more than the subjects of Rak Tulkhesh can avoid war. You might ask why Sul Khatesh and her children would do this, why they’d allow a civilization to rise up only to wipe it out in an instant with an arcane cataclysm or over the course of a century through a brutal inquisition. Is it an experiment or art, like the daelkyr? Is it part of a master plan? No. Ultimately, it’s more like food, or perhaps music. The only thing an overlord truly desires is the joy it receives from tormenting mortals. Why? Because mortal souls have power. Gods in some settings need mortals to worship them. In Aerenal, it is the devotion of the living that sustains the Undying Court. The overlords don’t want worship; they want fear, and they want mortals to experience their vision of the world. Rak Tulkesh wants to see hatred and war. Sul Khatesh delights in the fear of magic, and so she creates scenario after scenario in which magic is abused and leads to cruelty, terror, and ultimately destruction. Dral Khatuur wants people to live in fear of the creeping cold. They don’t have an endgame, because they are immortal and endless. They don’t want to ever completely destroy the mortals, because it is torturing mortals that bring them joy. And so it was for millions of years. Some domains saw millions of years of brutal chaos; others saw civilizations rise and fall, but those civilizations were always under the psychic sway of the ruling overlord (whether they knew it or not) and would inevitably be destroyed.
That’s the backdrop to keep in mind when thinking of the Age of Demons. It was a world that was utterly dominated by immortal overlords, where fiends roam freely in the world, both openly and covertly. Civilizations only existed to serve the appetites of the overlords and were wiped out when they lost their savor. Overlords had broadly stable domains, but the borders of their realms were constantly in flux; among other things, the people of a neighboring territory aren’t as used to the terrors of a rival overlord, and their fear is sweeter. Dral Khatuur wants people to fear the advancing ice, not just to learn to survive in it; as such, she would choose to let her borders ebb and flow. The side effect of this is that the overlords were constantly warring with one another.
Now I’ve painted a picture of the Age of Demons, let’s look at a few questions my Patreon supporters have raised this month.
The Age of Demons lasted for millions of years. In the final ten thousand years of the Age, there was a powerful draconic nation that called itself Argonnessen. Its disciplined flights of dragons trained to incinerate armies and to raze cities. And these mighty creatures were utterly devoted to the Daughter of Khyber. This overlord is an immensely powerful being. The dragons of the present day have to go to great lengths to avoid falling under her influence, and that’s while she’s bound. During the Age of Demons she was at the height of her power, and the dragons were her tools; she used them to terrify mortals and to attack the domains of other overlords. So there was no powerful nation of dragons that fought the overlords, because any powerful force of dragons would be corrupted by the Daughter of Khyber. The dragons opposing overlords were a small band of scrappy rebels who had been shielded from the influence of the Daughter of Khyber by their allies, the native celestials. Let’s consider each of those forces.
NATIVE CELESTIALS
It’s said that Khyber created fiends, Siberys created celestials, and Eberron created natural life. But Khyber slew Siberys. This is why the native celestials are so much weaker than their counterparts, and why there are no celestial equivalents to the overlords. The celestials that exist are just a faint echo of what would have been had Siberys had an active hand.
Native celestials embody the broad concept of goodness in the world. Compassion, justice, defense, wisdom, love; these are the sorts of concepts personified by the celestials. Just as the fiends exist to prey upon and terrify mortals, the purpose of the celestials was to guide and protect them. Given that the celestials were massively overpowered and outnumbered by the fiends, this was something they did subtly—working to inspire people or to guide key mortals who could help others… teaching people to fish rather than giving them fish. Whenever celestials were exposed, fiends would swarm in to destroy the interlopers and whatever they had accomplished; subtlety was vital. However, keep this section from Chronicles of Eberron in mind…
Glance across a Khalesh plain and you may see what looks to be a giant bone projecting from the earth—a fallen column of something like polished ivory. The locals call these “dragon bones,” saying they’re the bones of Eberron herself. But search further and you may find patches of wall, foundations, or even small buildings formed from this dragonbone. It’s virtually indestructible and seemingly immune to the passage of time. In truth, this isn’t made from the bones of the earth; it’s a building substance used by the ancient couatl, the most numerous of the native celestials of Eberron. Khalesh is one of the places that the couatl came into the world in the Age of Demons, one of the anchors where these immortals would reform if they were destroyed. In a sense, it’s the celestial counterpart to the Demon Wastes of Khorvaire; a place suffused with lingering celestial power.
The fiends vastly outnumbered the celestials, and over the course of millions of years they learned where most of these celestial anchors were. But they couldn’t actually DO anything about them. The celestials are as immortal as the fiends, and when destroyed they would eventually return. Given a good reason—for example, if the couatls tried to foster a mortal civilization in their spire—the fiends would bring sufficient forces to bear to destroy everything in a celestial spire. While the immortals would return the mortals would be lost. For that reason, the celestials kept their work subtle, working with individuals or small groups of mortals who then worked with others. The celestial guides could shield mortals from the psychic influence of the overlords. They could teach them, helping mortals master magic or other skills. They could even channel their power into a mortal, a form of voluntary possession. However, throughout most of the Age of Demons, they were never able to affect any grand change. The final rebellion wasn’t the only rebellion; it’s just the only one that had lasting results.
While it’s never been mentioned in canon, in my Eberron Flamekeep is built on dragonbone foundations and that the font of the Flame is a celestial anchor point. Likewise, there is a celestial anchor in the Labyrinth around the Demon Wastes; this is a sacred haven of the Ghaash’kala orcs.
Throughout this I’ve been saying celestials instead of couatls. Any celestial statblock could be reskinned to reflect a native celestial of Eberron. Just as the native fiends have a certain fondness for feline forms, the native celestials often have some blend of serpentine features or prismatic feathers. The couatl are by far the most common form of native celestial, but adventurers could encounter a deva with rainbow wings or a ki-rin with prismatic scales and a serpentine head. Compared to their counterparts in Shavarath or Syrania, these celestials are still guided by the basic principle of embodying positive ideas—of protecting and inspiring mortals as the Silver Flame continues to do today. Throughout most of the Age of Demons, these native celestials were only loosely aligned and largely sought to express their nature as individuals. They didn’t try to act as a host, because all that would accomplish would be creating a target to rally the fiends; they worked subtly and on their own. Which brings us to…
DRACONIC CHAMPIONS OF THE AGE OF DEMONS
In the last era of the Age of Demons, Argonnessen was a tool of the Daughter of Khyber. But there were small groups of dragons who evaded the Daughter’s control—first through celestial intervention, and then through the use of rituals and spells that they created. Dragons possess innate arcane power. The celestials helped the dragons understand their potential, but the rebels developed their own tools and techniques. Different cells specialized in different things. Dularanahk and her brothers led groups of warrior dragons and titans, capable of unleashing devastating force when it was required. Ourelonastrix worked with a cabal of dragons studying arcane science. Think of this as a hacker collective that provided logistical support and facilitated communications between the cells. All of this built on the work of previous generations; Ourelonastrix didn’t single-handedly master the secrets of arcane magic. But working with the couatl Hezcalipa, he made a crucial breakthrough that would ultimately bring the Age of Demons to an end: he discovered the Draconic Prophecy. What followed likely took centuries, as Ourelonastrix rallied the disparate dragons and Hezcalipa called on scattered celestials to help find Prophecy signs, gathering enough data to understand the power and possible paths of the Prophecy. Up to this point, the rebels had no real goal other than survival; without a way to permanently defeat an overlord, there was no reason to start a war. Now there was a glimmer of hope—a path through the Prophecy that could lead to victory.
The dragons who challenged the overlords weren’t a nation or a massive army. They were remarkable individuals, leading small bands of other remarkable mortals—including dragons, giants, titans and more. Ourelonastrix was the greatest expert on magic and knowledge. The Dols led militant cells, while Kolkonoran facilitated logistics and support, moving supplies between the cells. Eventually the studies of the Prophecy revealed a possible path to victory. And this is when the war began in earnest. This is where we have Dularanahk facing the Lord of Death, and other clashes in which the rebels gathered all their military might together—because they needed to win battles, acquire artifacts, or even potentially to lose key battles in order to lock in the future Ourelonastrix had discovered. The final key element was the sacrifice of the celestials to create a force that could bind the overlords. But even this wasn’t an instant victory. Once the celestials kindled the Silver Flame, the overlords were severed from their heart demiplanes; when their avatars were destroyed their essence would be bound into the prison shards. But each one had to be individually defeated… and even though they were weakened, this was no small task, especially without the help of the departed celestials. The first target was the Daughter of Khyber; once she was bound in the Pit of Five Sorrows, her hold over Argonnessen was broken. And now there was a true army of dragons fighting to bring down the remaining overlords, one by one.
OK… BUT WHAT ABOUT THE RELATIONSHIP BETWEEN THEM?
The original question was What was the relationship between the Couatls and Dragons during the Age of Demons? Did they respect each other as equals, or did they have conflicts? The important thing to understand is it wasn’t about the relationship between THE DRAGONS and THE CELESTIALS. It was about the relationship between Ourelonastrix and Hezcalipa, between Dularanahk and Azcalanti, and others. Because you aren’t talking about nations, you’re talking about remarkable individuals. Within that framework, it was the purpose of the celestials to guide and protect the mortals. There were many conflicts between them—disagreements over actions that endangered innocents, dragons believing the celestials were holding back, celestials trusting tradition while Ourelonastrix urged them to follow his instincts. Likewise, there were celestials who opposed the sacrifice that kindled the Flame, even if they ultimately took part. But again, these agreements and disagreements were between individuals, not cultures. While the celestial anchors resemble cities, the couatl never had a nation.
Fiends are incarnations of evil concepts. In the planes, they are tied to the central idea of their plane. A Shavaran devil reflects the idea of evil in war. A Daanvi devil embodies tyranny or oppressive order. A Fernia balor represents the cruel, chaotic destruction of fire. The native fiends more broadly represent evil in the world. Their purpose is to tempt and torment mortals, wreaking Khyber’s vengeance against the children of Eberron with a hundred thousand tiny cuts. All native fiends are tied to Khyber; most are specifically part of an overlord and its heart demiplane, but there are some time to demiplanes without overlords. Native fiends generally reflect an aspect of their overlord’s defining concept. Fiends tied to Rak Tulkhesh are tied to some aspect of hatred or war. Those associated with Sul Khatesh are more likely to be associated with magic or dangerous secrets. However, they can approach this in different ways. A raskhasa serving Rak Tulkhesh may excel at inspiring mortals to go to war—using its talents for deception to set conflict in motion. While a goristro bound to Rak Tulkhesh is a fiendish engine of war waiting to be unleashed on the battlefield.
A goristro? Absolutely. Just as couatl are the most common celestials but not the only celestials, rakshasa are the most numerous of the fiends but far from the only ones. Any fiendish stat block could be used for a native fiend, with a little cosmetic reflavoring. In the image that accompanies this article, the multiarmed figure on the left is a native marilith. Feline features are in fashion among the native fiends, but in describing a fiend, don’t feel you need to make it mundane. What differentiates a rakshasa from a weretiger? Canonically, the rakshasa Mordakhesh has stripes of blazing flame across his black fur. The First Scribe, Hektula, has arcane sigils on her fur. Remember that fiends aren’t natural creatures; when they are revealed in their full power, they should have obviously supernatural aspects.
Beyond this, I’ve suggested that feline features are a fashion. Rakshasas are natural shapechangers, and they are immortal embodiments of ideas, not creatures of flesh and blood. There may have been a time when the Lords of Dust wore shark heads, or even draconic features; the present use of feline features may be a fun retro reference to the Age of Demons. With this in mind, when adventurers in my game use True Seeing on a fiend, they don’t see its tiger form. Someone looking at Mordakhesh with Truesight will see him as a figure of shadows striped in flame and as a bloodthirsty sword, all at once. They will see that he has killed tens of thousands with his own hands, and feel his all-consuming appetite for war. Because THAT is the truth of Mordakhesh. For fiends and celestials, truesight doesn’t just strip away disguise self; it reveals their truth. Depending on the power of the fiend and the circumstances, I may make the individual with Truesight make a saving throw to avoid psychic damage or a condition; it can be dangerous to look too closely at a powerful immortal.
Just for fun, here’s a table you can use to add some random flare to a rakshasa or other native fiend…
Fiendish Features
d8 | ||
1 | Burning | Stripes |
2 | Bloody | Horns |
3 | Steel | Teeth |
4 | Shadowy | Scales |
5 | Oozing | Talons |
6 | Icy | Eyes |
7 | Rotting | Wings |
8 | Many | Tentacles |
There was a brief time, yes. If you believe the myth, Eberron defeated Khyber by constricting her and then becoming the world. The principle is that Khyber’s children were able to slip through Eberron’s coils. But this wouldn’t have happened instantly, and even once the overlords were out in the world it surely took some time for them to sink their roots into reality and to establish their dominions. So, there was a period in which natural life flourish before being dominated by the overlords. What was it like? Who knows. Keep in mind that this was millions of years ago and that most likely, cultures didn’t appear fully formed. How long did it last? Were there any significant cultures in place before the overlords claimed the world? Largely, that’s a question you need to answer based on the needs of your story. Morgrave professor Cord Ennis suggests one possibility in this article about sphinxes:
While intriguing, Ennis admitted that there was one piece of the puzzle that still escaped him. When do these time-traveling sphinxes come from? His first thought was the distant future—that they could even be some sort of mystically evolved descendants of the modern races. Yet if that were the case, is there no risk of their meddling changing their own future? Given this, he ultimately favors the idea that the sphinxes are from the very distant past—that they could potentially be the citizens of the FIRST civilization of Eberron, a society that predates the Age of Demons and whose existence was wiped from history by the dominion of the overlords. With this as a foundation, Ennis suggests that the actions of the sphinxes might not be the absolute demands of destiny one would expect from embodiments of the Prophecy, but rather a grand game. As their time is long past, the sphinxes don’t actually care about the ultimate outcome; whether the overlords rise again or the daelkyr are unleashed doesn’t actually hurt them. Ennis further suggests that this could reflect the different techniques seen among sphinxes. The “divine” sphinxes—those wielding clerical abilities—could see their actions as being a divine mission, potentially even one mandated by the Progenitors (because what other gods were there at the dawn of time?) while the “arcane” sphinxes could be the scientists of their time. Thus, Flamewind could be in Sharn because she knows it is a nexus of elements she wants to deal with—events or people she wants to observe or influence—but that between those key events she is simply enjoying studying this time and place, so alien to her native time.
The key point of this idea is that the Sphinx civilization is so far back in time that no evidence of it remains, and that its downfall is utterly inevitable. The sphinxes can’t save themselves; all they can do is to play games in the future.
That’s all for now! I have very limited time at the moment and most likely will not answer questions posted in the comments, but feel free to discuss them yourselves. I do answer questions on my Patreon, and in fact, I will be hosting a live Q&A on my Patreon Discord at 9 AM Pacific Time on Saturday, July 22nd. So check out my Patreon if you want to participate in that! Your support directly determines how much time I can spend creating Eberron content, so thanks to my current patrons for making this article possible.
“We’re approaching the Strait of Shadows, Captain.”
With a face forged from steel, the warforged captain couldn’t scowl… but his crystalline eyes glowed brighter for a moment. “I know, Mister Darro. Get the passengers below and arm the crew. If the Cloudreavers are in the sky today, this is where they’ll strike.”
How would I handle sky piracy in Eberron? It’s a question that’s come up on my Patreon a number of times over the course of the last year, and it finally won a decisive victory in the poll to determine article topics. But it’s a tricky question, because the outright answer is that I wouldn’t explore sky piracy in canon Eberron. By canon, elemental airships have only been in service for eight years. Air travel is a very recent development and there’s just not a lot of traffic in the sky; I’d expect the most common form of aerial crime to be skyjacking. Which isn’t to say that I couldn’t or wouldn’t run a sky pirates campaign in Eberron; it’s that the first thing I’d do would be to change canon to support it. What follows are ideas I would implement for a sky pirates campaign—not just not canon, but not something I’d necessarily use in a standard kanon campaign unless I wanted air travel to play a significant role. So none of this is canon, and I may end up incorporating some of these ideas into the new setting I’m developing for Threshold. Having said that, let’s delve into the Eberron I’d run my Sky Pirates campaign in…
Look into the skies above our world and you’ll mostly find air and water—storms, clouds, and gales. You won’t find things that are solid and permanent. You won’t find lines of fire burning in the sky, or patches of eternal night. And you won’t see castles in the clouds, or chunks of stone or soil suspended in the air. In Eberron, all of those are part of the skyscape… and that’s only the beginning. Manifest zones are places where the planes bleed into the material world, and manifest zones aren’t limited to the surface of Eberron. The Strait of Shadows are a massive aerial zone tied to Mabar—a stretch of air that consumes light, creating a region of endless night filled with banks of roiling shadows. Firefalls are rifts in the sky where Fernian flame cascades down toward the surface. The flames fade before they reach the ground, but a firefall can be a deadly hazard to a vessel in the air. Here’s a few important things that can be encountered in the skies above Eberron.
While most of the clouds in the sky are insubstantial vapor, there are two planes that can produce solid cloudstuff. Syranian clouds are identical to mundane clouds—typical stratus or cumulus in form—but they are soft, solid, and stable. They generally lack any sort of indigenous life, making them a solid base for aerial colonization; the floating district of Skyway in Sharn is built on a foundation of Syranian cloud.
Where Syranian clouds are generally uniform in design, every Thelanian cloud is unique—each held together by a story. Mistone Keep is a massive castle, with walls formed from the same cloudstuff as the “ground” it rests upon. It’s sized for giants, but it was empty when it was found and its original owners have never returned… though some wonder if they yet may, and if so what they will make of the people of Aundair who have colonized their castle. Thunderholt is a storm cloud, with lightning forever rippling in its murky depths. The surface of the cloud is filled with canyons and caves, and there are streams of lightning in its depths. Some claim that the archfey known as the Forge Maiden has a workshop in the depths of Thunderholt, where she harnesses the lightning; it’s said that the thunder is the sound of her hammer on the forge. Silverwood is a forest growing out of the clouds. Its trees are unique; some have snowflakes budding on their branches, others bear flowers made of mist. The heart of this cloud island is a massive tree of bone, with brilliant crimson leaves; the dryad tied to this tree is an oracle, but she will only answer questions for those who water her roots with blood. These are just three examples. Some Thelanian clouds are uninhabited, like the empty castle of Mistone Keep. Some, like Silverwood, have indigenous fey that are willing to coexist with mortal settlers. Others have denizens who have no interest in sharing their islands with others. Graystorm is home to the silver dragon of the same name; while he has been dormant for centuries, in the past Graystorm has pillaged cities below and its said that his hoard contains artifacts from Dhakaan and ancient Wroaat—possibly even the axe of Malleon the Reaver. While Graystorm is mechanically a dragon, he is functionally an immortal fey and has no ties to Argonnessen, nor any interest in the Chamber or the Lords of Dust. Cloud giants are an open question. A cloud giant could follow the model of Graystorm, being an immortal Thelanian creature tied to the story of their cloud. Alternately, cloud giants could be a colonizing force who have laid claim to the clouds over Xen’drik, a few of which have made their way to Khorvaire.
Clouds spawned by manifest zones are stationary, bound to the zone that generates them. Cloudstuff will turn to vapor when removed from the zone, and a damaged cloud will regenerate over time. However, Thelanian clouds may produce unique resources that can be harvested and removed. The trees on Silverwood won’t grow anywhere else, but their fruit can be carried down to the world below.
Lamannia sometimes projects pieces through its manifest zones, creating floating islands of soil and stone. Sometimes, these are extremely small; there are chunks of Lamannian sky-stone barely large enough for a single watchtower. Others are large enough to support entire towns, such as the seat of the Lyrandar enclave over Stormhome. Korran’s Belt is a massive field of small chunks of earth and stone found on the border of the Ironroot Mountains and the Lhazaar Principalities; sages theorize that at one point it was a single mass but that something caused it to shatter into hundreds of smaller stones. For the most part, Lamannian sky islands have the same qualities as mundane land; what’s remarkable is their ability to sustain an ecosystem even in an impossibly small space. They are essentially projections from Lamannia, and are not bound by mundane limits. A Lamannian island might have a pool of water that never runs dry, or a river that forever flows off the edge of the island and spilling down onto the world below; both are replenished from Lamannia, and have the purity imbued by the Primordial Matter trait of that plane.
Lamannian islands can be verdant and fertile, making them excellent outposts for colonies in the sky; there are a number of sky towns in the Five Nations. Smaller islands may have been claimed by a particular family; in Breland, the ir’Tains summer on Griffon Crown, an island south of Wroat. However, there are many small and remote islands that are unclaimed in the present day. Some are home to untamed beasts, including megafauna creatures; if you’re looking for a place to put a roc in Eberron, look no further. Others could have outposts from fallen civilizations that once claimed the island; a sky island over Q’barra could have relics from the ancient dragonborn empire. These small islands can be excellent havens for smugglers and sky pirates; Korran’s Belt is filled with hidden harbors, some active and some long forgotten.
Much like the Feyspires that phase in and out of alignment with Eberron, there are stories of Syranian towers appearing in the skies for brief periods of time. These towers are typically the seats of angelic dominions, holding secrets tied to the dominion’s sphere of influence. In some of these tales, explorers bargain with the master of the tower; in others, the spire appears to be abandoned. The only thing the tales agree on is that Syranian spires never stay in the material plane for long; if you find one, you’ll want to act quickly or pass it by.
Manifest zones usually impose one or more of the universal traits of their associated plane. As such, manifest zones related to the same plane can produce dramatically different effects. The Straits of Shadow have the Eternal Shadows trait of Mabar, but don’t consume life. On the other hand, there are stories of regions where the Hunger of Mabar trait can trigger without warning, swiftly killing living creatures and leaving shadows in their place. Such zones create graveyards of haunted airships; new ships pause to investigate the derelicts, only to suffer the same fate when the Hunger of Mabar manifests once more. Risian zones that manifest the Lethal Cold trait of the plane are eternal blizzards, but a Risian zone that has the Stagnation effect might be less obvious to observers. Kythri zones can produce bizarre, psychedelic forms of weather—and vessels that pass through these prismatic storms can be affected by the Constant Change trait of the plane, suffering unexpected transmutation effects. And in addition to having chunks of stone that simply serve as obstacles for ships, a Lamannian zone could produce intense hurricanes or storms, or even an airport Sargasso that seeks to entangle ships with rapidly growing vines. These are just a few examples; there are countless possibilities, and zones can be of any size. A massive Fernian firefall may be a major obstacle travelers have to skirt around; on the other hand, there could be a Kythri zone that’s so small it’s never actually been noticed and recorded, but it’s enough to cause trouble when your ship passes through it. These environmental manifest zones are often hazards to be avoided, but some can produce valuable resources with uses in arcane industry… while others can serve as shelters or blinds for travelers with nefarious intent.
Islands, cloud castles, and manifest wonders all give a reason for people to reach for the sky. In canon Eberron, air travel is quite limited and dominated by House Lyrandar. And in my campaign, the elemental airship as we know it remains a recent development and the pride of House Lyrandar. But there is another form of common air travel that forms the basis of commerce and the target of piracy, and that’s tied to the Skylines. Also known as planar currents, skylines are vast, invisible channels of energy that connect major aerial manifest zones. The strongest currents weave together threads of different planes, but there are lesser currents branching off to minor the least zones.
Ships capable of traveling along the Skylines are properly called manifest vessels, though ‘airship’ remains the common word for all large air vehicles. Manifest vessels don’t hover under their own power. Instead, they are buoyed by the energy of the skyline. While within a skyline, a manifest airship is much like a submarine (immersed within the medium it travels through as opposed to traveling on the surface of it). Left untended, a manifest airship will remain suspended in the line. However, should a vessel travel out of the skyline, it will fall to the earth. The energy of the line grows weaker the closer you get to the edge, which in turn slows the ship; any capable navigator can recognize the warning signs and keep their ship safely in the current. But it is possible to sail a ship out of the current and into the open—and unsupportive—air. Skylines vary in size; the largest is about a mile in diameter, while the smallest skyline might be just fifty feet across—though they can have “shallows” extending farther for vessels willing to risk them.
The larger a vessel is, the stronger the current needs to be to support it. So while there are small skylines that connect lesser manifest zones, a large vessel can’t travel along these lines, just as a supertanker can’t travel along a stream. This means that a small, fast vessel can travel along lesser lines that trade ships can’t take—or just skirt the edges of a line, where the currents are too weak to support a larger ship, just as a water vessel would need to be careful to avoid running aground in shallow water. All of these things combine to support aerial piracy. The first element is that there are recognized, established trade routes and that large vessels have to stick to these paths. This is also how things like firefalls and the Strait of Shadows come into play. If you take the major skyline from Rekkenmark to Vedakyr, you’re going to pass over the Nightwood and the Strait of Shadows; avoiding it would require following a different set of skylines that will add a few days to your travel time, and they will likely have other hazards you’ll have to deal with. But it’s also the case that smaller vessels can travel along lesser lines—allowing them to take direct paths and also, allowing raiders to strike a ship on a main line and then flee along the lesser currents.
In setting up an aerial campaign, an important question is how ships REACH the Skylines. If you want to keep it simple, major aerial manifest zones can drop pillars down to the surface—so you can descend from Silverwood to the ground safely. On the other hand, this could be limited to specific manifest zones; for example, it could be that Syranian manifest zones like Sharn become crucial ports where major manifest vessels can descend to the surface, while in lesser zones only small ships can descend, leading to systems of tenders or away teams using skystaffs or flying mounts.
Skylines are largely stable and predictable, but manifest zones can be unpredictable. A major skyline usually has a number of minor zones along its path that fluctuate in strength, like the Mabar or Kythri zones mentioned above. Thus you can have the equivalent of weather, as a Kythri zone that’s long been dormant suddenly flares up with a prismatic storm. It’s also the case that a skyline is still subject to MUNDANE weather; when you aren’t dealing with rocs or firefalls, you’ll still have to handle thunderstorms and blizzards!
There are maps of the major skylines across Khorvaire, but there may still be skylines that have yet to be explored, especially those tied to minor currents or remote zones. Adventurers could discover a new line or be hired to accompany a vessel exploring a new line, not knowing what zones or threats they will encounter along its path.
The manifest airship is the main form of traffic along the Skylines. Most manifest vessels have a top speed between ten to sixteen miles per hour. The most energy efficient way to travel is using manifest sails, which can be arranged to catch the planar currents; such vessels are typically on the slower side unless they can also harness wind. Faster ships use a manifest engine that burns dragonshards to produce motive power; House Cannith produced the first manifest engine, but the Arcane Congress produced its own form of it. House Lyrandar doesn’t have a monopoly on manifest travel, but they have produced small vessels capable of combining wind power and manifest sails, enabling them to move swiftly at lower cost than other ships.
The skylines and manifest travel are the most COMMON form of air travel, but not the only one. The timeline for the development of the elemental airship remains the same; House Lyrandar launched the first commercial airship eight years ago. With a typical cruising speed of twenty miles per hour and the ability to follow any path—completely ignoring the established skylines—the elemental airship stands ready to upset the established balance of power. However, Lyrandar’s fleet of elemental airships is still quite small, and their manifest sails are still less expensive to operate—so Lyrandar continues to sail the Skylines in addition to charting new paths with their elemental ships.
While manifest ships remain the most reliable way to travel over long distances, there are many short-range options and flying mounts. This article discusses some of those. I’d make skystaffs (brooms of flying, just not shaped like brooms) more widespread in a campaign with a strong aerial focus. Hippogriffs have long been the traditional canon mount, though fifth edition swapped the balance and made hippogriffs slower than both griffons and giant eagles; if you want to preserve the older balance, you could introduce a Vadalis hippogriff that has an flight speed of 90 ft but only inflicts 1d8 with its bite attack and 2d4 with its claws. Likewise, Syranian manifest zones that enhance flight—like the zone in Sharn and most regions with Syranian clouds—will support skycoaches and other local flying vehicles. As a note, if you find that the speeds of the ships feel too slow, feel free to increase them. A modern cruise ship travels at an average speed of 20 miles per hour, and I’m using naval speeds as a benchmark here. I could see doubling those speeds, but if you get to the sorts of speeds we see in modern air travel, among other things, ships don’t stay in the air that long and you don’t have as much opportunity for piracy!
So in this version of the setting, Skylines become a secondary form of river—paths that connect communities and serve as paths of transit and commerce. Many major cities are built near or under Syranian clouds or Lamannian islands, while other sky islands serve as hubs in their own right. In this version of the setting, Arcanix was built in its current location rather than being moved; if Aundair DID seize Arcanix from Thrane during the war (as presented in canon history), it likely belongs to Aundair/Thaliost at some previous point and was lost to some form of bureaucratic motion during the long history of Galifar. Had I time, I would go deeper into the flavor of the skies of each nation. I’ve always called out Aundair as having strong ties to Thelanis, which would make Thelanian clouds more common there. Karrnath is home to the Strait of Shadows and other Mabaran zones, and I would see it having some rocky Lamannian islands; Breland has more Syrannian clouds and a few resource-rich Lamannian islands that are being harvested to support its industry. The Lhazaar Principalities are home to Korran’s Belt and other small islands—some claimed by Principalities, others left empty. Which brings us to…
In this vision of the setting, air travel is a common activity. Lyrandar has the fastest and most efficient ships, but every nation has ships in the air, along with countless independent merchants. The Skylines create established shipping lanes… which in turn create targets for piracy. It’s up to the DM to decide just how crowded the sky is. It could be that sky islands are relatively rare, or it could be that formations like Korran’s Belt are actually found across Khorvaire; if these Lamannian chains have valuable (and possibly renewable) resources, sky mining could be an important commercial activity.
With this in mind, sky piracy would operate much like piracy on the sea. Pirates would find vulnerable spots in the shipping lanes, places where it’s easy for a raiding ship to hide. Pirates would likely use smaller manifest vessels, focusing on speed and the ability to go into shallow currents or along lesser lines where other ships couldn’t follow. On the other hand, you could easily have gangs of skystaff raiders or beast riders operating over short distances, boarding a vessel and then seizing control of it to take it to a nearby friendly port. I can also imagine a well-established Skyline that runs through particularly dangerous territory—with a significant number of mini-Kythri zones generating prismatic storms, Mabaran graveyards, chunks of Lamannian rock that are barren but dangerous—which is thus shunned by legitimate travelers but has become a haven for smugglers, pirates, and others willing to run the dangerous path. Let’s call that The Gray Road—and saying that someone “takes the Gray Road” is a slang term for up to no good. And again, the places where the Gray Road intersects with other skylines would be prime spots for piracy.
In general, the principle of the Gray Road gives room for adventure. There can be known skylines that aren’t used by commercial traffic because they’re just too dangerous—so people know about paths that ships can take, but they haven’t been thoroughly explored. Beyond this, there can be lesser lanes that can’t support large ships… but the player characters have obtained a revolutionary vessel that can stay aloft in the shadows, and they’ve been charged to do some exploration and trailblazing. What’s the story of that Thelanian island? Can you steal an artifact from Graystorm’s hoard? Alternately, adventurers can be bounty hunters or privateers, venturing down the Gray Road or into other dangerous currents in pursuit of known pirates or war criminals.
Looking to pirates, the simplest thing is to make use of the pirates we already know. The Lhazaar Principalities raid the seas because that’s all that’s available. But in this campaign, the Principalities could extend into the air. The Wind Whisperers might have the fastest ships, but the Cloudreavers could be the most brutal of the sky raiders. And despite the captain’s comment in the opening quote, the Bloodsails would likely love to linger in Mabaran zones like the Strait of Shadows. Over Droaam you’ll have to worry about harpies and gargoyles, not to mention the concept of a wyvern-riding Dassk force. In the Mror Holds there could be a gang of manticore-riding brigands. And worst of all, who knows what’s become of the skies over the Mournland? Have the effects of the Mourning destroyed the skylines above Cyre, or have they been transformed or seeded with monsters?
Obviously this is only the tip of the floating iceberg, but I’m afraid it’s all the time I have for the topic. You may want to read my article on Airships or Flight in Eberron, though neither considers the concept of widespread flight. As always, thanks to my Patreon supporters for choosing the topic and making these articles possible!
Kethelrax the Cunning is the warlord of Shaarat Kol. Sometimes known as the Goblin Prince, Kethelrax has been a rallying figure for people who have been oppressed throughout the history of the region. Kethelrax was born into one of the Khaar’paal kobold clans of the Graywall Mountains. Gifted with sorcerous power, these kobolds have largely remained in their fortified tunnels, ignoring both the humans to the east and the raiders to the west. Young Kethelrax was curious and keen to explore the western lands—but soon after he ventured into the Barrens, he was taken prisoner by an ogre chib who dominated a village of kobolds and goblins. For a time, Kethelrax served this ogre, learning the ways of the Barrens and his oppressed cousins. Before the Daughters exerted their influence over the land, the Barrens were violent and unstable; the ogre chib was in turn slain by minotaur raiders, who took Kethelrax and some of the others back with them to the fortress then known as Haalrac’s Fist. Kethelrax had many opportunities to escape; he’d been honing his sorcerous talents throughout his time in the western lands, and his captors had no idea of what he was capable of. But Kethelrax wasn’t content to escape alone. As a servant, he managed to manipulate the warrior Turakbar, playing on the minotaur’s ego. Kethelrax convinced Turakbar to slaughter the reigning clan lord, Haalrac, and in the ensuing chaos the kobold was able to free a host of goblins, kobolds, and others forced into service in Haalrac’s Fist. Kethelrax led this band south, hoping he could convince the Khaar’paal to take in these refugees. But during the long journey, Kethelrax was visited by a blind hag who urged him to take shelter in Dhakaani ruins in the foothills of the Graywall Mountains. Sora Teraza told Kethelrax that change was coming to the Barrens—and that there was a need for a leader who could inspire the small folk of the Barrens, rallying goblins and kobolds alike. Over the few years, Kethelrax and his band targeted weak chibs in the region, freeing their prisoners and building a significant force. It wasn’t easy, and Kethelrax suffered a number of bloody defeats—but he and his people remained strong. In 985 YK, Sora Katra came to Kethelrax. She explained the Daughter’s vision for the region, and made a bargain with Kethelrax: if he could seize the fortress now known as Shaarat Kol, he could hold it as a warlord of Droaam, creating a haven for goblins and kobolds. Kethelrax agreed, and over a decade later he reigns as the Goblin Prince of Shaarat Kol.
Ketherax the Cunning lives up to his epithet. He is both clever and charismatic, able to inspire his people but equally adept at deceiving his enemies. His primary motive is always to improve the lives of the kobolds and goblins of the western plains, and this has led him to be one of the most trusted allies of the Daughters of Sora Kell. While some warlords chafe at the Daughters’ rule and yearn for greater power, Kethelrax recognizes that a strong and united Droaam holds many opportunities for his people. He continues to improve Shaarat Kol, working to make it a haven for both smugglers and honest traders. With that said, he still has a number of old scores he’d like to settle with those chibs and warlords that have long oppressed the small folk. He has been unable to convince the Khaar’paal kobolds to ally with the Daughters, but he continues to work on it.
Kethelrax is a red-scaled kobold. He’s a charismatic speaker who possesses both arcane gifts and a knack with a knife. He’s known for his ability to conjure blades of flame (something that mimics both flame blade and fire bolt, as he can fling his fiery daggers). He prefers to outwit enemies rather than to rely on force to solve his problems… but he’s deadly when he needs to be.
Population: 6,600
In Brief: City of goblins and kobolds, smuggling and manufacturing center
Key Inhabitants: Kethelrax the Cunning (male kobold warlord)
Shaarat Kol is a city in southeastern Droaam, set against and into the western face of the Graywall Mountains. Like Cazhaak Draal, it is built on the foundations of an ancient Dhakaani city; unlike Cazhaak Draal, far more of the original city remains intact. The city was either abandoned or completely depopulated during the wars with the daelkyr. Those parts of the city that were above ground were damaged by battle and the passage of time. An ogre chieftain built a simple fortress within these ruins, and this changed hands many times over the centuries. But much of Shaarat Kol was underground, and in its last days its gates were sealed with both arcane locks and adamantine bars. None of the chibs and chieftains who claimed the fortress on the surface were ever able to delve below. None, at least, until Kethelrax the Cunning. In 985 YK Kethelrax was the leader of a band of goblins and kobolds—rebels hiding in the Graywall Mountains and raiding the thuggish chibs. Sora Katra came to his camp, and the two talked for hours. In the month that followed, Kethelrax led his followers in a daring attack against the ogres and their ettin chib who currently held the ruins of Shaarat Kol. It was a vicious fight, but Kethelrax’s forces won the day and claimed the fortress… and using the knowledge Katra had shared, Kethelrax was able to open the gates of the old city and discover the true face of Shaarat Kol. The name of the city is Goblin for “Forge of Swords” and it was once an industrial center of the Dhakaani, home to some of their greatest forge adepts. The city was largely intact and contained resources untouched for thousands of years; while some of these resources were lost to time, adamantine doesn’t age. However, the city was lost in war, and the ancient daashors left countless traps along with their treasures. There are amazing facilities and other wonders to be found in Shaarat Kol, but claiming them is a slow process. Even now, more than a decade later, the denizens of Shaarat Kol have only reclaimed an estimated 20% of the ancient city.
So at the moment, Shaarat Kol is essentially two cities. The Upper City is the surface, which is being expanded and rebuilt in the new Droaamite style seen in Graywall and the Great Crag. Most of the people of the city live in the Upper City and it’s where most business takes place. But there’s also the Undercity, which lies beyond the ancient gates. This is where Kethelrax holds court and where his most loyal and talented followers dwell. Should there ever be a serious attack, Kethelrax could seal the gates—and when those gates were last sealed, they held off intruders for thousands of years.
The Upper City of Shaarat Kol is a haven for trade, known for the vast Goblin Market. This is an even larger cousin of the Bloody Market found in Graywall. All manner of independent artisans, hunters, and magewrights sell goods and services. You can hire mercenaries, buy plunder from raiders, find trinkets scavenged from Dhakaani ruins or dangerous imports from the Venomous Demesne. The Goblin Market is a vast open space largely filed with tents and temporary housing. Looking to the permanent buildings, roughly two-thirds of the structures are built for the comfort of small creatures, with a another third of the city being designed to accommodate medium and large creatures. Kethelrax has sworn that Shaarat Kol will be a haven for goblins and kobolds, who have long been oppressed in this region; he’s building this city first and foremost for his people.
The Undercity of Shaarat Kol uses the intact infrastructure of the ancient Dhakaani city. This was an industrial center and it contains mines, foundries, and forges; Kethelrax and his people are working to restore these facilities and to make use of them. While some of the great daashors were hobgoblins, the golin’dar (goblins) were the primary artisans of the empire, and much of the city is designed for their comfort. As noted before, the process of reclaiming the Undercity is slow, and there are always teams at work exploring new sections and trying to clear out traps and defenses. But just in the area that’s been reclaimed Kethelrax has been able to get a foundry and an ore processing facility working, and they are learning a great deal about the process the Dhakaani used to create and work adamantine. This is only the start, but Shaarat Kol has the potential to play a very important role in the future of Droaam.
Unlike Graywall, Shaarat Kol has made little effort to welcome the Five Nations. There’s no Orien trade route and no Dragonmarked outposts in the City of Goblins. The coastline to the south is rocky and dangerous, and it is difficult for large ships to land. Kethelrax is actively working to build a safe port so that Shaarat Kol can rival Vralkek as an important shipping destination. For now there are a few safe havens for those who know them, but they only support small ships. All this means that the people of the Five Nations who come to Shaarat Kol are mainly smugglers. There’s all kinds of valuable goods available in the Goblin Market, including many that are taxed or prohibited in the Five Nations. Some use paths and hidden passages through the Graywall Mountains, while others dare the dangerous coastline in small boats. While Kethelrax and the Daughters haven’t tried to bring the Dragonmarked Houses to Shaarat Kol, he’s happy to deal with legitimate traders, hence his work on the port; he just wants to finish securing the Undercity and unlocking its potential before bringing easterners into the city in large numbers.
Goblins and kobolds make up nearly 90% of the population of Shaarat Kol. Many of these were formerly subjugated by brutal chibs, and either fled on their own or were released from their bondage by the Daughters and allowed to go to Shaarat Kol. There is a tremendous sense of camaraderie among the people of the city; throughout the city you’ll see people working together and helping their neighbors. There’s only a small (literally) city watch, but that’s because anywhere that there’s trouble a mob of citizens will come together to deal with the problem. There are a number of large trade schools that are teaching the skills needed to use the facilities of the Undercity, and Kethelrax has brought in mentors from the Khaar’paal kobolds to help kobolds harness their sorcerous potential. As a result, Shaarat Kol has far more magewrights than any other city in Droaam. The city is still growing and finding its footing, but there’s more casual comforts than one can find even in the Great Crag. The denizens of Shaarat Kol have largely embraced the faith of the Cazhaak Six, and there’s a temple maintained by the medusa priest Shalaasa and a number of Khaar’paal adepts. In general, Shaarat Kol is one of the safest cities in Droaam, as long as you don’t start any trouble. On the other hand, the camaraderie among the small denizens means that the criminals and con artists of Shaarat Kol ply their trade on the visiting tall-folk; keep an extra eye on your purse and don’t buy a deed to a Byeshk mine, no matter how good the price is.
This is an excerpt from Frontiers of Eberron, which I’ve been working on since I released Exploring Eberron. I’m currently running a poll on my Patreon to help me decide where I go from here—whether I continue to develop this book for Eberron and the DM’s Guild, or whether I use it as the foundation of an entirely new setting. There’s many factors in this decision and I won’t be making it quickly. Regardless of what happens, thanks to my patrons and to everyone else who’s supported Eberron over the years!
The cosmology of Eberron is often depicted as a vast orrery. Each of the thirteen planes embodies a particular concept, while the material plane is the nexus where all of their ideas are expressed—the realm of life and death, war and peace, story and stagnation. The Astral Plane is the space between and beyond them, embodying nothing. What, then, is the Ethereal Plane and how does it differ from the Astral?
First of all, forget everything you know from canon sources, Eberron or otherwise. This article is about how I use the Ethereal Plane in my campaign, which combines aspects of the traditional Ethereal Plane, the Plane of Shadow, the Shadowfell, and the Feywild… and builds from there. And the first difference is, don’t call it a plane. If you want to move between planes, or between Eberron and the rest of the Multiverse, you’ll travel through the Astral Plane. The Ethereal has no defining concept, and most importantly, it has no independent existence; it’s a shadow cast by another plane. With this in mind, most scholars in Eberron don’t call it the Ethereal Plane; they call it the Ethereal Veil. Think of it as the backstage of reality, a layer that lets you slip outside reality while still being close enough to observe it.
In this article, I’ll start with a general overview of the Ethereal Veil and then delve into two additional ways you can interact with the Ethereal: Haunts and Borders.
The Ethereal Veil is a gray shadow of the world. For the most part, the Veil functions exactly as described in canon.
While on the Ethereal Plane, you can see and hear the plane you originated from, which is cast in shades of gray, and you can’t see anything there more than 60 feet away. You can only affect and be affected by other creatures on the Ethereal Plane. Creatures that aren’t there can’t perceive you or interact with you, unless they have the ability to do so. You ignore all objects and effects that aren’t on the Ethereal Plane, allowing you to move through objects you perceive on the plane you originated from. The Ethereal Plane also disobeys the laws of gravity; a creature there can move up and down as easily as walking.
Standing in the Veil, you see a gray shadow of reality. You can see the misty forms of buildings, of trees, of people going about their business… but you cannot be seen or heard, and you cannot affect the adjacent reality. With few exceptions, the Veil is empty. It reflects the adjacent reality, but it holds nothing of its own, and for this reason people rarely stay there for long; there’s no food, no water, and most of the time, no people. As noted earlier, the Veil is an extension of whatever plane you’re currently on. Eberron has an Ethereal Veil, but so does Fernia and so does Syrania; the Veil of Fernia is a gray shadow of Fernia, where the fires are cold and you can pass through the obsidian walls.
Two important facts are that while you can see the images of things in the Material plane—what I’ll call echoes—you can’t affect them and can move through them. This includes the ground beneath your feet. As called out in the description above, “a creature there can move up and down as easily as walking.” This looks like walking, and uses the traveler’s standard movement speed; it’s simply that your feet find purchase wherever you want them to. This also means that you could, for example, just start walking straight down toward the core of the planet. However, you’re walking blind. If you hit a Border or a Haunt, the matter you’re dealing with may suddenly become impermeable, or gravity might reassert itself. And if your magic should fail, the standard rules say “You immediately return to the plane you originated from in the spot you currently occupy. If you occupy the same spot as a solid object or creature when this happens, you are immediately shunted to the nearest unoccupied space that you can occupy and take force damage equal to twice the number of feet you are moved.” If you’re deep in solid rock, that could be a very unpleasant return.
The people of Khorvaire know the Ethereal Veil exists, but there’s limited ways to reach it. The two most common tools are blink (which has a maximum duration of one minute) and etherealness (a high level spell that lasts for up to eight hours). When you enter the Veil, the magic that keeps you there also affects the objects you bring with you. If you blink across the Veil and drop a Shard of Rak Tulkhesh it will return to the material plane as soon as the spell ends… so it’s not an easy dumping ground for cursed objects, nor is it an easy matter to build things there (though if you time things right, you might be able to drop a bomb in there just before it explodes… just ask Three Widow Jane in my Threshold campaign!).
Of course, the Veil isn’t much use if there’s no good way for adventurers to get there. Here’s a few options to consider.
Eberron is a world where the supernatural is part of nature. The Ethereal Veil is part of life, just like air and water—and just like fish adapt to water and birds soar through the air, there are creatures in Eberron who naturally interact with the Ethereal Veil. Phase spiders are a perfect example of this—a predator with a natural ability to cross the Veil at will. While blink dogs currently teleport directly from point to point, I like to take their name literally and imagine them darting through the Veil, if only for a moment.
Night Hags are another possible threat. Along with their nightmares, these fiends have always had free access to the Veil. Every night hag has at least one sanctum hidden in the Ethereal Veil, and most have left other markers and monuments scattered around it. An old iron lantern hidden in the veil might monitor dreams, calling to the hag who forged it when there’s something worthy of attention. A monolith might be a cache where a hag stores the (literal) nightmares she collects—or she might have a stable of equine nightmares hidden in the Veil. Given the vast scope of the Ethereal Veil, adventurers are unlikely to stumble upon hag creations by accident, but night hags can definitely be a source of deadly traps or enigmatic elements waiting to be found across the Veil.
Another traditionally Ethereal-dwelling species are the Ethergaunts. Originally they’re presented as an alien species with an advanced civilization in the Ethereal Plane. Canon lore suggested that they were tied to the Daelkyr. Personally, I’d take a different approach. I don’t want a powerful civilization in the Veil, and the Daelkyr have enough going on. But I love the idea of eerie alien scientists who are watching us from beyond the Veil—who could be in the room with you right now. I love the thought of an Ethergaunt triggering a series of bizarre and seemingly impossible events—a man killed, the pieces of his body discovered in different locked vaults—in pursuit of fear, or even of children’s toys appearing from nowhere as a way to trigger joy. With this in mind, I’d tie the Ethergaunts to Mordain the Fleshweaver. Mordain never leaves Blackroot. But I love the idea that he’s created a corps of agents who are active all over the world… but active on the other side of the Veil. I love the idea of a man being questioned about an impossible murder, and when the Medani inquisitve casts see invisibility they are shocked by the hideous creature watching the interrogation from across the Veil. And the point of this approach is that each ethergaunt has its own task. It’s not introducing another organized enemy; it’s an army of invisible terrors, each pursuing a unique and unpredictable goal as they gather data for their creator. The final piece of this puzzle is how Mordain created the ethergaunts. Were they made from raw materials? Or did Mordain kidnap Orien heirs—beneath their armor, do ethergaunts have a bizarrely evolved form of the Mark of Passage?
Beyond this, part of the role of the Veil is to be undiscovered and unknown. It is as vast as the reality itself, and there may be powers within it that humanity has simply never encountered. It’s an alien world waiting to be discover that is all around us, just beyond what our eyes can see.
All this deals with the broad swath of the Veil, the gray shadow of the reality. But there are places where the Ethereal takes a more concrete form; the two most common of these are Haunts and Borders.
As described in this article, most ghosts in Eberron are “souls trapped between Eberron and Dolurrh, driven to complete their unfinished business or held fast by emotions or memories they can’t let go. While they have at least some of their memories from life, most ghosts aren’t fully aware of their condition or the passage of time, and they generally can’t retain new information.” Let’s call these restless spirits lingering ghosts.
When a lingering ghost is bound to a location—typically due to traumatic events that occurred there—it resides in the Ethereal Veil. Most such ghosts aren’t aware of the passage of time. They linger in the ether until something pulls them across the Veil, typically something tied to the anchors keeping them from Dolurrh. Most of the time, a lingering ghost simply drifts through the shadows of the Ethereal Veil, endlessly retracing its steps until something triggers a reaction. However, a lingering ghost driven by exceptionally powerful emotions or memories can reshape the Veil, imposing its own memories upon the the shadows of reality. So it may be that the ir’Halan Manor is a crumbling ruin stripped by looters long ago—but if a warlock blinks into the Veil, they find themselves in a vibrant replica of ir’Halan Manor at its height. There’s a fire in the hearth, music in the air, and guests mingling and murmuring. This is a Haunt—a recreation of the night that Lady ir’Halan was betrayed and murdered. It’s here that her ghost dwells, endlessly recreating that final night. Ethereal travelers can interact with objects and effects that are part of the Haunt; someone who blinks into the memory of ir’Halan Manor will find that they can’t walk through the walls and that normal gravity is in effect, and that they can take a drink from the waiter passing by. However, for the most part the elements of a Haunt are only real within the Veil. A traveler can take a drink from a waiter and they can savor the flavor of it… but when they blink back to reality, the glass fades from their hand and the wine itself fades from their system. In many ways it’s like a powerful illusion; a popular arcane theory asserts that many illusion spells function by shaping the Veil and pulling it into reality. But while you’re in the Veil, a haunt seems real.
The classic Haunt is tied to a single ghost; if that ghost is destroyed or laid to rest, the Veil will return to its gray shadow of reality. However, a Haunt can also be shaped by a mass surge of emotions or pain so powerful that they leave psychic scars on reality. The site of a massacre, a prisoner of war camp, an orphanage… all of these can leave Haunts on the other side of the Veil. Where the ghost Haunts often perfectly recreate a moment from the past, traumatic Haunts are often more surreal. If you’re in the ruins of a village destroyed by brutal soldiers during the Last War, the Haunt on the other side of the Veil could be haunted by shadowy creatures that blend the traits of Brelish soldier and beast, using the statistics of worgs; the Veil remembers the terror and brutality, not the precise details. As with ghost Haunts, traumatic haunts feel real to people who enter the Veil; travelers can’t move through objects, people can’t walk through the air, and threats can inflict real damage.
While Haunts are usually tied to locations, a lingering ghost can also be tied to an object… or even to a particular event, such as a song. In such instances the ghost won’t completely transform the Veil, but it will leak elements of its anchoring trauma into the environment.
See invisibility is a 2nd level spell and allows the caster to peer beyond the Veil. As such, it’s an important tool for mediums and exorcists; as it’s a gift of the Mark of Detection, House Medani inquisitives may be called in to investigate suspected Haunts.
Beyond ghosts and trauma, there’s another force that can create Haunts within the Veil: the Overlords of the First Age. An unbound overlord can shape reality; a bound overlord might reshape the Veil in its image. The most logical place for this would be around an Overlord’s prison. If you cross the Veil near the prison of the Wild Heart, you might find that the echoes of the woods are not only solid but writhing and aggressive. The Veil in the vicinity of one of Rak Tulkhesh’s prison shards might be stained with blood and the refuse of recent battle… a foreshadowing of Rak Tulkhesh’s desires. Another possibility is that the devotions of a Cult of the Dragon Below could channel the influence of their overlord to shape the Veil in their place of power. Sul Khatesh’s Court of Shadows imagine a magical kingdom that exists beyond the world; it could be that through their devotion, a powerful chapter of the Court could create this shadow-kingdom on the other side of the Veil. If so, the question is whether Sul Khatesh allows her cultists to cross the Veil, or if they simply have the ability to SEE these umbral spires rising behind reality when others cannot. In a twist—in part because otherwise it would be all too easy for House Medani to monitor cults—in my campaign Overlord Haunt effects can’t be seen by see invisibility, though true seeing will reveal their presence; just as rakshasa resist low level spells, the influence of the overlords isn’t so easily revealed.
Lingering ghosts usually don’t know that they’re ghosts. They linger because they’re trapped in a particular moment or by a powerful anchor, and they interpret all events through that emotional lens. Often when dealing with adventurers, a lingering ghost will fixate on one or more adventurers who bear some similarity to characters from their own personal drama—recognizing the bard as the lover who spurned them, or the rogue as the cousin who ruined them—and completely ignore the other adventurers. They generally can’t be reasoned with and simply won’t hear things that don’t fit their narrative. Persuasion and Intimidation often have little impact on them, because they essentially can’t change their minds… unless the speaker is actually invoking part of the ghost’s story, in which case a check might have advantage.
Lingering ghosts can use the standard ghost stat block from the Monster Manual, but they aren’t visible on the material plane while in the Veil; there could be lingering ghosts around you right now, but you’ll never know unless something pulls them across the Veil. Also, because lingering ghosts don’t know they’re ghosts, they don’t always take full tactical advantage of their capabilities in combat. They may use Horrifying Visage instinctively, manifesting their horrifying visage in a moment of anguish or rage. Possession is often used to seize control of an adventurer who has some similarities to the ghost’s living form; the ghost doesn’t recognize that they are possessing someone and believes the body is their own. However, the classic ghost stat block is only a starting point. Depending on the ghost’s scenario and the strength of its anguish, it could be a simple poltergeist or even something as powerful as a dullahan. While the core stat blocks are a good place to start, part of what makes encounters with lingering ghosts interesting is to vary them based on the story and unique nature of the ghost.
Taking a scenario like the ir’Halan manor, the house may appear to be full of people, and the people in these crowd scenes aren’t full ghosts. They’re shades, memories plucked from the life of the lingering ghost. Often shades have no real existence. They’re essentially manifestations of the phantasmal force spell. Any direct attack or defense against such a shade should be resolved with a Wisdom saving throw against the spell DC of the lingering ghost; a shade’s attack deals 1d6 psychic damage. More potent shades could use the statistics of a shadow or a poltergeist; alternately, they could use the statistics of other creatures (such as the worg-soldiers in the massacre haunt). Like the lingering ghost, shades are bound to play out their roles and may not use abilities they possess if they don’t fit their role in the story.
A Haunt reflects the anchors that are binding the ghost to the world, which may not be related to the actual moment of their death. The ir’Halan manor scenario may reflect the night Lady ir’Halan was murdered, but the haunted Cannith foundry may reflect the day that Castar d’Cannith murdered his father or ruined his partner; even if Castar died a natural death, it’s his intense guilt over what he did in the foundry that binds him to the world. In dealing with anchors, consider the following questions.
Loosening an anchor could be a task for an altruistic group of adventurers who want to lay a ghost to rest. However, it can also simply be used to set the tone and parameters of a haunt. A murdered many may not be able to rest until the entire family line of his murderer has been exterminated. The adventurers may consider this extreme and ruthless desire to be vile and cruel; the point is that the ghost’s haunt may reflect their hunger for bloody vengeance, and if one of the player characters is part of the murderer’s bloodline, it could drive the story.
The material plane is influenced by all of the other planes. Where this influence is especially strong, you find manifest zones. Traits of the outer plane bleed into the material, and planar energies may produce unusual flora or fauna. However, often manifest zones aren’t obvious to the naked eye. It’s the influence of Syrania that makes it possible for the towers of Sharn to scrape the sky, but if you never try flying, you might never notice its effects.
This changes when you cross the Veil. Where another plane touches the material, you’ll find the Border Ethereal—a dramatic blending of the two realms. The Border Ethereal generally reflects the reality of the material plane in its layout and structure; when you blink into the Veil from a tower in Sharn, you’ll still be in a tower with roughly the same shape. But the cliffs over the Dagger are now formed of thick cloudstuff. The towers themselves are formed of crystal and mist. You can see shadow angels circling in the skies, along with whorls of living cloud-stuff (the minor air elementals mentioned on page 152 of Rising From The Last War).
Likewise, imagine a Fernian manifest zone in the King’s Forest of Breland. In the material plane, this stretch of jungle is unseasonably warm and prone to flash fires. But when you cross the veil, you find that same forest, except that the trees are always on fire and yet never consumed. Mephits leap from tree to tree, delighting in the flames. While the trees are never consumed, their flames will burn any travelers who touch them, and the stifling heat is deadly to mortals.
In short, the Border Ethereal takes on some of the elements of the traditional Feywild (Thelanian Borders) and Shadowfell (Borders with Dolurrh or Mabar), while adding a host of other blended realms. However, the stories of the Border Ethereal are smaller in scope and scale than the stories of the planes; you might make a deal with a terrifying hag in a Thelanian Border, but if you want to deal with an archfey or dance in the Palace of the Moon, you need to go to Thelanis itself.
You can use any of the methods described in Breaching the Veil to reach a Border, but sometimes there are other options unique to the manifest zone. Dance in the ring of mushrooms when Rhaan is full and you might end up on the other side of the Veil. Sacrifice something you love in fire, and your grief might drag you across the Fernian border. These passages shouldn’t be easy—it’s not like the locals should have regular commerce with the Border Ethereal—and most zones don’t have them, but they can provide ways for adventurers to have an adventure across the Veil without having to spend a fortune on oil of etherealness, and a way to have a taste of the planes without entirely leaving home.
One of the major things that distinguishes the Border Ethereal from the planes they’re connected to are the inhabitants. The Border Ethereal resembles a blend of the two planes, and people can see shadows of the inhabitants on both sides of the veil. In the example given above, the angels that can be seen in the skies of the Border Ethereal in Sharn aren’t present in the border; they’re shadowy images of the denizens of Syrania, flying through their own skies. The borders of Shavarath appear war-torn and you may see misty images of conscripts and fiends, but the damage you see in the environment around you wasn’t actually caused by recent action. So for the most part, the Border Ethereal is empty and relatively safe for travelers. However, there are exceptions.
The Ethereal Veil extends from the plane its attached to, but no farther. There’s no Deep Ethereal, no curtains to other planes; the Astral Plane is the primary corridor for travel. However, the Borders are where planes come together, and it may be possible to move between material and the connected planes in such places. Anchor Lords often have the power to open passages for travelers. Otherwise, passages are often well hidden and may require particular actions to open. There might be a gate of rusted iron in a Shavarath Border that only opens when blood is spilled in anger, or a clearing in Thelanis that provides passage when adventurers tell the story of their destination.
Typically the Border Ethereal resembles the overlapping region in the Material Plane—the material foundation—transformed to reflect the influence of the outer plane. The Lamannian Border of a city will be overgrown; the Shavaran Border of a city will be shattered by war. The misty echoes of the creatures of the material plane can be seen moving around, and occasionally echoes of extraplanar beings can be seen as well.
A crucial feature of the Border Ethereal is that its structures are solid. Explorers can’t walk through the burning trees of a forest in a Fernian Border, or the fortified walls of a Shavaran Border. Gravity is also usually in effect in Borders, so people can’t walk through the air. Here’s a few elements you could find in the Border Ethereal; the planar traits referred to are described in Exploring Eberron.
That’s all for now! Feel free to discuss the topic in the comments, but I won’t be answering questions. If you’d like to ask me questions on this or other topics, check out my Patreon! And thanks to my patrons for making these articles possible.
The warforged captain stared at the great orange orb ahead of them. “This is it, my friends. We are about to be the first people to set foot on Olarune. Thanks to your courage and your tireless efforts, we will bring honor to Breland—and Sovereigns willing, profit.”
“Captain, ship ahead!”
“Impossible. “ The captain adjusted his ocular lenses. “We’re a day ahead of the Karrns—”
“It’s not the Blade. It’s an unknown design, sir. And it’s ascending from the surface.”
The deck crew ran to the rails. The approaching ship was like nothing they’d ever seen; it looked like a great oak uprooted and cast into the air, with tapestries of rainbows spun between its branches. In its own way, it was beautiful. But as it drew closer, the crew of Intrepid heard the sounds coming from it—the howls of hungry wolves.
Spelljammer intertwines fantasy and magic with spacefaring adventure. This dynamic setting has come to fifth edition, giving players the opportunity to set a course for Wildspace and distant stars. What does this mean for Eberron? What’s the best way to take your campaign to the skies and beyond?
Eberron: Rising From The Last War states that “Eberron is part of the Great Wheel of the multiverse… At the same time, it is fundamentally apart from the rest of the Great Wheel, sealed off from the other planes even while it’s encircled by its own wheeling cosmology. Eberron’s unique station in the multiverse is an important aspect of the world… it is sheltered from the influences and machinations of gods and other powers elsewhere in the Great Wheel.” Now, Rising also says that if you WANT to integrate Eberron with other settings you can; as a DM, you can say that whatever protections have hidden Eberron from the worlds beyond are failing. So there’s nothing stopping you from making a campaign where there’s regular commerce or even war between Realmspace and Eberron’s wildspace system—let’s call it Siberspace. But personally, I’m more interesting in combining the two concepts in a very different way—in finding an approach that adds depth to the moons, the Ring, and the existing cosmology of Eberron rather than leaving it behind.
One of the core principles of Eberron is that arcane magic is a form of science and that it evolves—that invention and innovation should play a role in the setting. With this in mind, in bringing Spelljammer into Eberron I’d emphasize that this isn’t a retcon, it’s a new development. The Five Nations have never had spelljammers until now. The adventurers aren’t the latest recruits in a vast, well-established spelljamming fleet; they are among the very first humanoids to venture into wildspace to try reach the moons of Eberron.
With this in mind, an important question is why no one’s gone into space. The Ring of Siberys is beyond the atmosphere, but what’s stopping me from putting on a ring of sustenance and pointing my broom of flying straight up? In my campaign, there are three major obstacles. The first is that the Ring and the moons are beyond Eberron’s atmosphere, so you need to be able to survive in wildspace. The second is that breaking free from Eberron’s gravity is a challenge, requiring a surge of energy a simple item like a broom of flying can’t produce. The third is that the Ring of Siberys radiates arcane energy. As discussed below, this specifically interferes with divination and teleportation, but it can overload any arcane system… and this seems to especially impact magic of flight. It’s almost like the Progenitors didn’t want people to leave the planet. But why take the hint? These are problems that can be overcome, and now they have; the people of Eberron have developed spelljammers that can reach the Ring and beyond. Still, the key is that this is all happening now, in 998 YK. And different nations are using very different techniques to overcome these obstacles—each of which could have unexpected problems.
In developing a Spelljammer campaign based on the space race, a key question is who’s in the race? My preference is to focus on the Five Nations. No one won the Last War, and fear of the Mourning prevents anyone from restarting it; there’s still tension, resentment, and intrigue. So in addition to the excitement of going where no one has gone before, I’d emphasize the tension between nations and the impact triumphs in space could have back home. Just as in our world, the space race could become a proxy for this conflict, driven by national pride and the determination not to let another nation secure a tactical advantage in space. The Treaty of Thronehold still holds, and it would take intense provocation to cause an Aundairian ship to open fire on a Brelish ship—but the nations are bitterly competitive and will do anything short of war to get an edge over their rivals. Finding awesome space treasure is great, but forming alliances and establishing outposts could be the most important elements of an adventure.
So with this in my mind, I’d focus on three primary forces. The Dragonmarked Houses are willing to work with every nation, but this is also a chance to explore the growing division within House Cannith, suggesting that each of the three barons are backing a different nation and that the rivalry between these three is almost as strong as the cold war between the nations.
Aundair dares, and that motto certainly applies to its spelljamming program. Rather than pursuing the established path of elemental binding, this branch of the Arcane Congress is blending cutting edge arcane science with Thelanian wonder. The Brelish say that Aundair traded an old cow for a spelljamming engine, and while that’s a mocking exaggeration, it’s not entirely untrue; the ir’Dalan line has a long association with the archfey known as the Mother of Invention, and the Archmagister Asta ir’Dalan has brought wizards and warlocks together in a unique alliance. The current Aundairian ships are the fastest and most maneuverable of the three main powers, and unquestionably the most beautiful. A few key notes about the Dragonhawk Initiative…
As research vessels, the crew of a Dragonhawk ship focuses more on arcane sophistication and on skill than brute force. Every ship will have at least one wizard and one warlock. An eldritch knight could be appointed as security chief, but a battlemaster or barbarian would be an unlikely addition to the crew. Baron Jorlanna d’Cannith isn’t as closely involved with the Dragonhawk Initiative as her rival barons are with their nations, but Cannith West is manufacturing elements of the Aundairian spelljammers and could become more actively involved in the future.
The Argosy is a branch of the King’s Citadel, formed in close alliance with Zilargo, Cannith South under Merrix d’Cannith, and House Lyrandar. Where the Dragonhawk Initiative is scientific and the Blade of Siberys is a branch of the military, the King’s Argosy is ultimately a commercial enterprise; its mission is to seek profit in the heavens, to secure unique resources and opportunities that can benefit Breland and its sponsors. Argosy ships rely on the established principles of the elemental binding; they are essentially bulkier, overpowered elemental airships, including the need for a Lyrandar pilot. Compared to the Dragonhawks, Argosy ships are ugly; but they are sturdy, and thanks to Breland’s industrial capacity the Argosy has the largest fleet of the Five Nations. A few core principles of the King’s Argosy…
Argosy crews place a strong emphasis on skill expertise and versatility; there’s always a few jacks of all trades ready to step into the shoes of a fallen specialist. Brelish ships always have at least one warforged or autognome; a Lyrandar pilot; and an artificer, who could be Brelish, Cannith, or Zil. It’s worth noting that while the King’s Argosy is works closely with the Twelve, the two are still ultimately independent. By allowing an Optech on board, the Argosy maximizes the chances of forging profitable arrangements. But the Optech is an adviser who has no actual authority on the ship. And should Aundair or Karrnath come into possession of a valuable resource, the Twelve would negotiate with them. Breland is making business and industry the focus of its mission in space, and thus has encouraged a strong role for the Twelve, but it’s not an exclusive arrangement.
Where the King’s Argosy hopes to profit from the stars, the Blade of Siberys seeks only one thing: victory. An alliance between the Karrnathi crown and Cannith East (under Zorlan d’Cannith), the Blade is certain that there will eventually be a war in the stars—and when that comes to pass, Karrnath will hold the winning hand. Vital resources? Strategic positions? Alien weapons or allies? The Blade wants them all. A few details about the Blade of Siberys…
Every Blade vessel has a necromancer-engineer, and could have an oathbreaker paladin in charge of marines. While there are Karrn necromancers who aren’t part of the Blood of Vol, this could be a case where Seekers are given positions—a major opportunity to repair the relationship between the crown and the Blood of Vol. In general, the Karrns are more concerned with martial force than diplomacy, and strength over finesse. It’s important to keep in mind that the conflict between the Five Nations is still a cold war; with their heavy armament the Blade is prepared for that to change, but as things stand an attack on one of the other nations would be a political catastrophe. But the next war could start tomorrow, and even if it doesn’t, you never know what enemies might be waiting among the moons.
In this campaign, Aundair, Karrnath, and Breland are the three major powers in the space race; it takes the resources of a nation to get off the ground. However, over the course of the campaign other groups could make their way into space. Most of these would be operating on a smaller scale, with one or two ships rather than building up a fleet, but they could still pose unexpected challenges or become useful allies over time.
The Treaty of Thronehold specifically forbids the creation of warforged and the use of the creation forges, but it places no further restrictions on the creation of sentient construct. Over the last two years, Merrix d’Cannith has been working closely with the brilliant binder Dalia Hal Holinda to develop a new form of construct fused by an elemental heart. Over the last year this work has born fruit, but so far the bound heart can only sustain a small form; this is the origin of the autognome.
As of 998 YK, there are approximately 43 autognomes in existence. Each autognome is a hand-crafted prototype, and every one of them is unique; Merrix and Dalia are still experimenting, changing materials, designs, and technique. One autognome might have arcane sigils carved on every inch of its bronze skin. Another might be made with chunks of Riedran crysteel, which glow when the autognome is excited. What all autognome designs share is an elemental heart—a Khyber shard core inlaid with silver and infused with the essence of a minor elemental. This serves both as the heart and brain of an autognome, keeping it alive and also serving as the seat of its sentience. The minor elementals involved in this process aren’t sentient as humans understand the concept; but through the process of the binding, it evolves into something entirely new.
In creating an autognome character, begin by deciding the nature of your elemental heart. You may not remember your existence as a minor elemental, but the nature of your spark may be reflected by your personality. Are you fiery in spirit? A little airheaded? Do you have a heart of stone? What was the purpose you were made for, and how is this reflected in your design? Which of your class abilities are reflected by your physical design, and which are entirely learned skills? And most of all, what drives you? Are you devoted to your work, or are you driven by insatiable curiosity or a desire to more deeply explore your own identity?
Autognomes aren’t widely recognized and may be mistaken for warforged scouts. If their existence becomes more widely known, will anyone will seek to amend the Code of Galifar to protect all constructs? Will the Lord of Blades see autognomes as allies in the struggle, or deny any kinship to these elemental constructs?
While I’m suggesting the Cannith autognome as the most common form of autognome, it’s not the only way to use this species. In my current campaign I’ve proposed an Autognome warlock as a crewmember on a Dragonhawk ship—a construct built with the ship, who serves as its Arbiter. But here again, this character is a unique construct who doesn’t resemble Cannith’s creations or feel any immediate kinship with them.
In simplest terms, Khyber is the underworld, Eberron the surface, and Siberys the sky; as such, the crystal sphere containing Eberron and its moons is typically referred to as Siberspace. Korranberg scholars maintain that Berspace would be a more accurate term; “Ber” is thought to be an ancient word meaning “dragon” or “progenitor,” and as such Berspace could be seen as The Realm of the Progenitors. However, beyond Korranberg the idea was dismissed because people felt ridiculous saying “Brrr, space.”
So what awaits in the Realm Above? Compared to the endless expanse of the Multiverse, it may seem relatively limited, but there’s many opportunities for adventure.
The first step into the sky is the Ring of Siberys, the glittering belt of golden stones that’s wrapped around Eberron. The Ring has long been an enigma. It is a powerful source of arcane energy, and this ambient radiation—commonly referred to as the blood of Siberys—has a number of effects.
The Blood of Siberys is an obstacle, but it can be overcome. Elemental airships couldn’t reach the Ring, so the Five Nations developed spelljammers. The Mysterious and Anchoring effects can surely also be overcome with research and development; this is an opportunity to reflect the evolution of arcane science. Most likely this would come in stages rather than all at once; the Dragonhawk Initiative learns to cast detect magic through the Mysterious interference, then any 1st level divination, then any 2nd level, and so on. The breakthrough could involve a rare resource, such as a previously unknown mineral only found in the Ring; deposits of this mineral would quickly become be important strategic objectives. Can House Orien create a focus item that allows them to teleport to the Ring? Who will penetrate the shrouding effect first—Aundair or House Medani?
So to this point, the people of Khorvaire haven’t been able to use divination to study the Ring, and they haven’t had ships that could reach it. What will the first spelljammers find? Legend has long held that the Ring of Siberys is comprised entirely of Siberys dragonshards; the King’s Argosy will be disappointed to learn that this is only a myth. There are Siberys shards spread throughout the Ring of Siberys, but the bulk of the ring is comprised of massive chunks of stone and ice surrounded by fields of smaller shards. The Ring is airless and cold—or so it first appears. The blood of Siberys doesn’t just shield the Ring; it makes the impossible possible. Some of the larger stone shards have some combination of gravity, breathable air, safe temperatures, or even fertile soil (though based on other conditions, it might be impossible to grow typical crops of the world below). Usually these features are only found on the interior of a sky island; it’s barren and airless on the surface, but if you find a passage there’s a hidden oasis within. Such an oasis will be an incredible discovery for exploring spelljammers, but there’s a complication: the Five Nations aren’t the first civilizations to explore the Ring. Some of the larger shards—shards the size of Lhazaar islands—contain ruins of civilizations that died long ago. Some hold stasis fields or extradimensional spaces, waiting for an explorer to deactivate the wards or unlock the space. These can contain powerful artifacts or priceless arcane secrets… or they could contain magebred beasts, ancient plagues, or even entire outposts held in stasis. Consider a few possible origins for such things…
Personally, I’d be inclined to say that native fiends have a minimal presence in the Ring of Siberys. The overlords are part of the architecture of Khyber. They might be able to influence people in the Ring, as with the Daughter of Khyber corrupting dragons; but there are no overlords bound in the ring itself.
Overall, the Ring of Siberys is the first frontier. It is vast—it stretches around the entire world, and has room for countless shards the size of cities or even islands. Mineral deposits and stasis caches are tempting treasures, and a habitable oasis would be an invaluable foothold in space. However, the block against divination limits the ability to swiftly locate these things… and that’s where adventurers come in.
The people of the Five Nations have never reached the moons of Eberron, and there are many theories about them. Some assert that the moons must be airless, arid chunks of rock. Others say that the moons aren’t actually physical objects, but rather massive planar gateways—that a ship that tries to land on Vult will actually find itself in Shavarath. In my campaign, the answer lies between these two options. The moons are essentially manifest worlds. Each moon is closely tied to a particular plane, and the entire moon has traits that are typically associated with manifest zones of that plane. All of Sypheros is blanketed in Eternal Shadows of Mabar, while Barrakas has the Pure Light trait of Irian. The moons have atmosphere and gravity. Vegetation varies—Sypheros and icy Dravago are quite barren, while Barrakas and Olarune and lush and overgrown. While each moon is suffused with planar energies, these are concentrated in specific spaces. All of Eyre has the Deadly Heat trait of Fernia, but there are only a few places regions with the Fires of Industry trait—and those spaces would be quite desirable as outposts. However, it’s quite possible that these valuable locations have already been claimed. The moons support life, and it’s up to the DM to decide exactly what’s already there. I don’t want to go into too much detail, because this is where the exploration comes in. Here’s a few general options…
Savage and Untamed. There’s no civilization on this moon, but there is life—powerful and dangerous life. Any nation that hopes to establish an outpost or to explore extensively will have to deal with any combination of deadly monsters, supernatural hazards, dramatic weather effects, and more. It’s quite possible that one or more of these effects are so dangerous that it’s essentially impossible to maintain an outpost or establish a colony on the moon. If Zarantyr has the Constant Change or Chaotic Time traits of Kythri it could be very dangerous to remain there for long, while Olarune could be like the Titan’s Folly layer of Lamannia—any attempt to impose order upon the natural world will be overcome.
Lunar Empires. A moon could be home to one or more powerful civilizations. Perhaps the Giff have an imperial civilization on Vult, with fortresses spread across the moon. The moons are smaller than Eberron, so even a powerful lunar civilization will be limited in scope; but this is still an important opportunity for first contact and ongoing diplomacy. These societies could have technology or magic unknown on Khorvaire. If the Giff are on Vult, they could have their faithful firearms! A crucial question is whether these lunar civilizations have spelljammers of their own, or if they are landbound. The fact that none of these nations have made contact with Eberron suggests that they don’t have space travel, but it’s always possible that they have limited spelljammers that can cross between moons but can’t get past the Ring. This would allow the Giff of Vult to be engaged in a bitter war against the Plasmoids of Zarantyr and for the spelljammers of Eberron to get caught up in this conflict and to engage in battles in space, but this conflict can’t reach Eberron… at least for now!
Small Civilizations. A moon could have one or more civilizations that could interact with explorers, but that aren’t so vast and advanced as to truly dominate their moon. Perhaps there’s a few clans of Hadozee on Olarune—each carrying a different form of lycanthropy! Each claims a region within Olarune, and explorers will need to negotiate with multiple clans… being careful to learn and respective their dramatically different cultures! This sort of division could also lead to the different nations finding different allies on the same moon. On Olarune, the Blade of Karrnath could forge a bond with the powerful Wolf clan, while the King’s Argosy negotiates with the Tigers and Bears.
Planar Extensions. Personally, I want the moons to be unique worlds that are influenced by their associated planes, but that are distinctly different from what you’d find in those planes. I’d rather have Vult have a Gith empire than to just make it another front in the war between the celestials and fiends of Shavarath. However, a moon could certainly have a region that is either a direct extension of a plane or that hosts the denizens of the plane. It could be that the Feyspires of Thelanis appear on Rhaan as well as on Eberron, and that explorers could find Pylas Pyrial waiting for them when they land. Or people could land on Aryth to discover a city inhabited by the ghost of their lost loved ones… but is it real, or some sort of deadly trick?
I don’t want to know all the answers; that’s why we have a journey of discovery. But there’s at least twelve moons to explore, and each one can present very different challenges and hold different rewards. Will the adventurers be drawn into intralunar wars? Will they engage in high stakes first contact with alien civilizations? Or will the greatest challenge be surviving an expedition?
Wroat, We Have A Problem…
The moons and the Ring are the main real estate, but the space race isn’t just about the destination—it’s all about the journey, and the many, many things that could go wrong in space. In my campaign, I’d want to emphasize that space travel is new. Every ship is a protoype, and the people of Khorvaire simply don’t know what threats are waiting for them in space. In addition to the hazards presented in Spelljammer content, adventurers could run across manifest zones, wild zones, or supernatural threats never encountered planetside. A Shavaran bloodstorm could induce homicidal aggression in humanoids that pass through it, while a Lamannian sargasso could bury its roots in any ship that draws too close. There’s a giant Khyber crystal floating in space… is it a valuable resource or does it contain an incredibly dangerous spirit? And just in general, what do the adventurers do when something goes wrong with their ship? And do they think it’s just a legitimate malfunction—a lesson artificers can learn from—or is it sabotage? Is there a spy among their crew… or has an alien threat come on board?
As depicted in Spelljammer: Adventures in Space, Wildspace bleeds naturally into the Astral Sea; all you need to do is sail far enough. However, as called out in Rising From The Last War, Siberspace is isolated from the rest of the Multiverse. Exploring Eberron suggests that Eberron is the only planet in its material plane—that the stars are in fact glittering points on a crystal sphere, surrounded by the vast astral void. In my Space Race campaign, the first Spelljammers won’t be capable of reaching any form of the Astral; they’ll have to discover the limits of Siberspace and find out how to pass beyond it. This could be driven by encounters with Githyanki raiders, or require the adventurers’ patrons to bargain with Aerenal. But even when they pierce this veil, I wouldn’t take them to the full expanse of the Astral Sea. This article presents a version of the Astral Plane holding countless ruins, timelost hermitages, and outposts like Pylas Tar-Volai and Tu’narath. But it’s still an interpretation concretely tied to Eberron, home to the Githyanki survivors of a lost reality and the experiments of the Undying Court. Personally, I’d say that this version of the Astral Plane is still part of Siberspace—that just as there’s a barrier around Eberron’s material plane, its astral plane is also a shielded pocket within the greater Astral Sea.
Another point is that Siberspace can be larger that people thought. Exploring Eberron says that Eberron is the only true planet in its system. But if the twelve moons and the Astral plane aren’t enough for your adventures, there could always be one or more planets in the system that astrologers have somehow overlooked. Perhaps the Illithids of Thoon live on the dark side of a world that’s been completely blacked out, invisible and deadly.
Where are the Giff in Eberron? Where could we find a megapede? In general, this is where exploration comes into play. Who knows what the adventurers will find on the moons? In my campaign, at least a few of the moons will have significant civilizations, who may well have intralunar travel and simply never have crossed the Ring of Siberys to reach Eberron. I’ve suggested the idea of the Giff as an imperialistic society on Vult—with the moon’s ties to Shavarath fueling their warlike nature—or the plasmoids being found on Zarantyr, with their fluid forms reflecting the chaos of Kythri—but those are just possibilities. There could be a single city of Mercanes on Therendor, with a gate connected to the Immeasurable Market of Syrania; they carry the goods of the Market to other moons. Neogi could have a civilization on Lharvion, or they could actually be the remnants of some long-forgotten civilization on Eberron itself, and dwell in outposts hidden in the Ring of Siberys. Space Hamsters could be found on Olarune, with other Lammania-influenced megafauna. A few other random ideas…
Again, all of these are just possibilities; if you want space hamsters to have a mighty empire on Therendor, follow that story! Meanwhile, if you want to play a giff, hadozee, or any of the other new species, that’s what the Astral Drifter and Wildspacer backgrounds are for. I especially like Astral Drifter; your character was marooned in the Astral and lost for countless decades. You finally escaped into Eberron, where your stories of space may have inspired the current drive to reach space. But because you’ve been gone for so long, you don’t know what you’ll find when you return to your home moon. If could be that your Giff character remembers your great empire on Vult, but that since you’ve been gone it’s been entirely obliterated by illithids and neogi!
One last thing: people may say Do Giff have guns in Eberron? Why wouldn’t they? I’ve never had any issue with the existence of firearms; in a previous article I’ve suggested that the Dhakaani could use them on Eberron. I just prefer to focus the Five Nations on wandslingers and other arcane alternatives. With that said, I might still think about ways to make Giff firearms feel unique to the setting. If the Giff are based on Vult, perhaps their firearms use the powdered remnants of angels instead of gunpowder; the ashes of the eternal wars of Shavarath drift across the surface of the moon.
As I’ve said above, part of what I love about the Space Race campaign is the idea that it’s happening right now and that the action in space should have real consequences on the planet below. With this in mind, I’d personally play with the passage of time in a different way than in most of my campaigns.
Another way to approach this would be to have each player make two characters—a member of the spelljammer crew and someone who’s involved in the diplomacy, administration, or research efforts on the ground. These planetbound characters might not be as combat-capable as the explorers, but they each have vital resources and influence; they’ll never actually get into a battle on a grid map, but they’ll be making the crucial decisions that determine the greater arc of the campaign. These could be people who are important but not the top decision makers, or they could actually be the central players; if you’re running an Argosy campaign, one of the players could be King Boranel, another Merrix d’Cannith, another the head of the Zil binders. Again, these characters wouldn’t actually have full stats and character sheets, but the players would have to play them in negotiations and decide what they commit to during downtime—does Merrix support the colony or does he devote his resources to building a better autognome?
As I said, this is the campaign I want to run. But Spelljammer is designed to allow adventures across the multiverse, and if that’s the story you want to tell, tell it! There’s nothing wrong with having your spelljammers crash land on Krynn. If you want to retrofit the two together, you could say that Galifar had a long-established spelljamming fleet with outposts in the Ring of Siberys; during the Last War, the Ring seceded and now exists as its own independent force that protects Siberspace from outside threats and continues to explore the multiverse. There are some cosmological questions you’ll have to resolve, but again, if that’s the story you want to tell, there’s always answers!
I’m juggling many things, and I won’t be answering questions on this article. But if you’d like to see more of how I’d run such a campaign, you can—and you can even play in it! For the rest of the year, I’m shifting my Threshold Patreon to running a Siberspace campaign. Every month I run and record a session. The characters and the story are persistent, but the players change each session; every Threshold patron has a chance to get a seat at the table. Even if you never get a seat at the table, you have access to the recorded sessions and you have an opportunity to shape the story through polls, Discord discussions, and story hours. Currently I’m going through the Session Zero with the patrons; we’ve decided to base the campaign on the Dragonhawk Initiative, and we’re developing the player characters. If you’d like to be a part of it, become a patron!
Thanks as always to my patrons for making these articles possible, and good luck to all of you in your adventures in space!