Dragonmarks: Arcane History

Posted on January 8, 2021 by Keith Baker

This is my third article on this topic, following Arcane Science and The Arcane Arts. Arcane magic is a part of everyday life in Khorvaire. But how did we get to this point? If you travel back a thousand years, what sort of magic did the Princess Aundair using in battle? Who were the Teslas and Edisons of Khorvaire… or, if you prefer, the Tashas and Mordenkainens?

One way to approach this would be to a big timeline of specific dates: “535 YK: First confirmed use of the phantasmal killer spell.” However, this is impractical. Among other things, there is no single path of development in Eberron. Over the course of tens of thousands of years, many different cultures have developed arcane traditions. Take fireball; the externalists of Khunan invented one form of fireball, but the Siberyan wizards of Thaliost independently created a different form of the spell, and Brelish sympathists created a different version of the spell… Meanwhile, the Sulat giants were flinging fireballs forty thousand years ago. So the goal of this article isn’t to tell you who invented fireball. Instead, it’s a broad overview of the history of Arcane Magic in Khorvaire over the course of the last two thousand years, noting a few specific developments, movements, and individuals. It is NOT comprehensive; it is a foundation for DMs to build upon. If you’re looking for older civilizations, a few are touched on in the Arcane Arts article. If you’re interested in the weapons of war, check out Exploring Eberron.

Beyond that, this article assumes you have read the two preceding articles—that you know the difference between Siberyan theory and externalist magic, and that you know that magic is more complicated than it may appear. If you haven’t read those articles yet, now would be a good time to do so.

As with the previous articles, where this article references rules, it assumes the use of the fifth edition of D&D. This specifically addresses the development of ARCANE MAGIC as opposed to psionics, divine magic, or primal traditions. And as always, this is what I do at MY table, and what follows may contradict canon material. Use what you like, ignore what you don’t!

THE NOT-WIZARDS: Sorcerers, Warlocks, and Dragonmarks

Sorcerers and warlocks typically manipulate the same forms of energy as wizards. However, neither sorcerers or warlocks need to understand the powers that they wield. Later sections will discuss their role in history, but on the whole warlocks and sorcerers didn’t band together or seek to apply scientific knowledge to the development of their gifts; however, they served as an inspiration to those scholars who believed it was possible to replicate their powers through scientific means. While sorcerers and warlocks were scattered individuals, dragonmarks were a greater force in history; due to their hereditary nature, they served as the foundation of powerful guilds, ultimately becoming the houses that continue to shape the world today. Here’s a quick look at these three paths.

SORCERERS

Sorcerers appear in every humanoid society, spread out across history. Generally, sorcerous power isn’t as reliably hereditary as dragonmarks are, so families of sorcerers haven’t become a powerful force in Khorvaire. There are exceptions—notably the Houses of the Sun and Moon that ruled ancient Corvagura in Sarlona—but even there it is likely the case that ongoing exposure to the wild zones of the region was the primary factor in the development of sorcerous power, not simply bloodline; those few Corvaguran nobles who came to Khorvaire failed to pass their powers on to their children. There might be similar regional pockets of sorcery in Khorvaire, or families with a greater chance to manifest dragonblood talents; however, this still isn’t reliable enough for sorcerers to wield the same sort of power as the dragonmarked houses. In general, sorcerers are considered to be remarkable and unique; during the Dark Ages they were valued for their power but didn’t seek to form any sort of fellowship of sorcerers or explore the science behind their gifts. While sorcerers generally don’t need to understand the science behind their powers, the most common forms of sorcerers do map to the common theories of arcane science. Those with “Planar Power” are effectively using Externalist magic, while “Dragonblood” sorcerers are channeling Siberyan power. The other most common manifestation of sorcerers are dragonmarks themselves… though there is also the possibility of sorcerers whose gifts are in some way engineered. Here’s a quick breakdown of these paths.

Planar Power. In the past, the most common form of sorcerer was touched by the power of one of the planes. This is believed to be tied to planar conjuctions, being born in a manifest zone, or perhaps because a parent attracts the attention of a planar entity. However, it is still extraordinarily rare; Sharn is in a manifest zone to Syrania, and of the tens of thousands of children born there every year, only a handful develop sorcerous gifts. While there’s no absolute limitations imposed on player characters who choose this path, generally the origin and spells of a planar sorcerer will reflect the influence of the plane they’re connected to. A sorcerer tied to Irian might be a Divine Soul with powers of light and healing, while one connected to Daanvi might be a Clockwork Soul with spells that enforce order. Keep in mind that the title of an origin is implied lore, not an absolute restriction. A sorcerer with the Draconic Bloodline could be tied to Shavarath or Fernia, with their “Draconic” features resembling the characteristics of a denizen of the plane. In general, however, planar sorcerers don’t manifest dramatic physical mutations. This is something that distinguishes them from tieflings and people with aberrant dragonmarks, both of whom are seen as dangerous. The powers of a sorcerer are generally seen as a blessing; even before the sorcerer learns to control them, they rarely trigger accidentally or pose the sort of threat associate with aberrants and tieflings.
Dragonblood. As arcane science advanced, sages discovered a new form of sorcerer: individuals with an innate power to channel the ambient magical power known as the Blood of Siberys. These sorcerers use the techniques and trappings of Siberyan wizardry to harness their power; they study Arcana and apply it to their magic. But a dragonblood sorcerer doesn’t prepare spells as a wizard does; instead they must discover the spells they are naturally attuned to—the spells they are innately prepared to cast. This is the “Harry Potter” model of sorcerer; they resemble wizards and study alongside wizards, but their gift is tied to an innate talent, not simply learned. The Arcanix scholar Iria ir’Rayne believes that there may be more people with latent dragonblood talent than has been realized; it’s simply that there’s no widespread method to test for this talent. Dragonblood rarely has any obvious physical manifestation and as such generally doesn’t involve the Draconic Bloodline origin, but most other origins could be tied to this form of sorcerer.
Dragonmarks. Characters with dragonmarks can present sorcerer or warlock abilities as expanded powers of their dragonmark. A halfling could be a Divine Soul sorcerer who presents their healing and strengthening spells as being channeled through their mark, whiile a Lyrandar heir could be a Storm Sorcerer. Such a character doesn’t have to present all of their spells as being tied to their dragonmark, but the point is that they have learned to channel power through their mark in ways that most of their kin cannot… and along the way, discovered a few other dragonblood talents or planar gifts.
Aberrant Dragonmarks. This follows the same principle as the dragonmarked sorcerer, with the added note that aberrant marks are typically destructive or dangerous. An aberrant sorcerer possesses greater power than someone who solely possesses the Aberrant Dragonmark feat, but they are still channeling their power through their mark, and as they gain Sorcerer levels their mark may grow, spreading across their body. A core idea of aberrant dragonmarks is that they are dangerous: that while a player character may be in full control of their mark, there may have been tragic incidents before they mastered its power—and that they still may have to deal with some sort of quirk or manifestation of the mark that continues to be a burden, as described in Rising From The Last War. Sorcerer-grade aberrant marks have been rarely seen since the War of the mark, but over the last century they’ve been appearing in ever-increasing numbers. Iria ir’Rayne has advanced the idea that some aberrant dragonmarks (notably not the “mixed marks” that occur from mixing dragonmarked bloodlines) could be the result of untapped dragonblood potential “spoiling”—that if a child received guidance and training before the manifestation of a mark, they could develop the talents of a dragonblood sorcerer instead. However, this is controversial theory has largely been dismissed by the Arcane Congress.
Magebred Sorcerers. Actual draconic ancestry isn’t commonly seen as an origin for sorcerers, but as Erandis Vol shows it’s not entirely impossible. Celestials and fiends don’t reproduce biologically, but it’s possible that a sliver of an immortal’s power could be imbued into a sorcerer; in this case their origin and spells would likely reflect the powers of that being. It’s also possible that either of these options—dragon or immortal—could be infused into a bloodline as a result of arcane experiments as opposed to any voluntary interaction on the part of the donor; a sorcerer with the Draconic Bloodline origin could be the result of a Vadalis experiment.

Sorcerers have always been uncommon. People know they exist, but because sorcery isn’t something that can be learned it’s increasingly less common that wizardry or artifice, not to mention magewrights. With the exception of aberrant dragonmarks, sorcerers generally aren’t feared. Sorcerers have always been allowed in arcane institutions, but because of their lack of flexibility have often been dismissed as flawed students. During the last century, Iria ir’Rayne has fought for greater recognition for sorcerers and to find ways to expand and embrace the potential of sorcery.

WARLOCKS

Like sorcerers, warlocks can be found in most civilizations throughout history. This article examines warlocks in more detail, discussing both possible patrons and interpretations of the class that don’t rely on patrons. But the classic warlock is someone who draws their power from their ongoing, active relationship with a powerful patron. They don’t have to have any sort of supernatural heritage and they don’t need to understand the powers that they wield; they simply need to earn the favor of a powerful being. This has led to a largely negative view of warlocks over the course of history, for a few reasons…

Wizards and arcane scholars often see warlocks as reckless fools, wielding powers they haven’t earned and don’t understand.
The Cults of the Dragon Below—both those devoted to daelkyr and those tied to overlords—are the most common source of warlock powers. Both tend to draw their warlocks down malevolent paths, eroding their morals and sanity and compelling them to do terrible things.
Even warlocks devoted to less malign powers are still serving supernatural entities. There is a common sense that this comes before faith in religion or loyalty to a nation—that warlocks are essentially spies serving unknown powers.

This is a simplistic view, and the actual reaction will depend on the nature of the patron, the views of the people the warlock is dealing with, and local customs. In Aundair, many noble families have longstanding pacts with archfey. In Breland, the wandslinger who won magic powers by gambling with an efreeti may be celebrated for their wit rather than reviled. The members of the Court of Shadows are arcane scholars lured into the Court by a hunger for knowledge. In the Mror Holds, there are warlocks who have stolen their powers from the daelkyr rather than earning them with allegiance… but Mror purists argue that any use of such powers has a corrupting effect. One could argue whether the relationship of a warlock and patron is really so different than that of a cleric and their deity, but the general opinion is that it is—that warlocks are driven by greed and the desire for personal power, that patrons likewise seek to meddle with the natural order, while the Sovereigns are the natural order.

Warlocks with different patrons have little in common with one another; they may have access to overlapping spell lists, but an Archfey warlock who’s working for Fortune’s Fool and a Great Old One warlock drawing power from Dyrrn wield very different powers; depending on their choice of spells, it’s possible that the GOO warlock could be considered to be wielding psionic power. Aside from the differences in the nature and source of their powers, patrons may have very different goals and limitations. A particular archfey could be limited to only having a single warlock at a time; they can’t imbue another mortal with power unless they dismiss their current agent. On the other hand, a cult of the Dragon Below might grant power to anyone who swears an oath… But it might also sink hooks into the psyche of the newly minted warlock, corrupting them and remolding them in the image of the patron.

The average commoner can’t tell the difference between a sorcerer and a warlock. It’s not that a warlock will inherently be distrusted the moment they step into a room; but if they announce their status—”Well, I was talking to Sul Khatesh last night in my dreams, and she taught me this new spell… Neat, huh?”—they may have to deal with fear and prejudice. Arcanix accepts Archfey warlocks and studies other paths, and other warlocks might be allowed as curiosities—but Arcanix forbids trafficking with overlords, daelkyr, or other entities defined as malefic forces. This isn’t a crime under the Code of Galifar, and even in the Arcane Congress there are ways a scholar to defend interactions with such entities—but it can be cause for inquiry, censure, or even expulsion. This is discussed further in the section on Arcane Research.

DRAGONMARKS

A dragonmark is a lens that allows the bearer to focus magical energy for a specific purpose. From the moment it manifests, it provides certain innate gifts—a few minor spell effects, an intuitive talent for a particular skill or tool. But the potential of the dragonmark is far greater than that. Heirs who learn how to channel magical energy can use their mark to produce greater effects, as reflected by the Spells of the Mark. And as noted before, a character could ascribe their class abilities to their use of their dragonmark. A Lyrandar Storm Sorcerer might have unlocked the greater powers of the Mark of Storm, while a Jorasco Life Cleric could attribute their healing abilities not to divine power, but rather to their dragonmark. A Thuranni rogue could even class features such as Uncanny Dodge or Evasion as manifestations of their dragonmark, as they conjure concealing shadows.

There was a time when cantrips were all but unknown to the people of Khorvaire: when those tinkers who carried the Mark of Making were the only humans capable of casting mending, when the Ghallanda gift of prestidigitation was a truly remarkable gift. Likewise, there was a time when the Spells of the Mark could only be cast by those with the Mark—when knock and arcane lock were the sole provenance of the Mark of Warding. But beyond all of this, the core strength of the dragonmark has always been focus items. The idea is simple: it is easier to produce a magical effect that channels the power of a dragonmark than one that doesn’t. It’s easier to make a serpentine mirror than a crystal ball… Not to mention eldritch machines like the creation forges or storm spires. Over the course of centuries, the Arcane Congress and other mages have worked to reverse engineer these powers, discovering how to mend, to detect poison, to feather fall. By default, all such spells are now in the public domain. But again, dragonmark focus items allow heirs to provide services no one else can offer. And beyond this, while player characters can learn any spell, a DM who wants to emphasize the power of the houses can assert that magewrights are more limited—that there are rituals that can only be learned by magewrights that carry a particular mark. Looking to page 318 of Rising From The Last War, it could be that healer magewrights must carry the Mark of Healing, and that locksmiths require the Mark of Warding—or, if you want to be less restrictive, it could be that any magewright can master these rituals, but that the guild trade schools tied to Kundarak and Jorasco have the best teachers.

The key points to bear in mind when moving forward are that there was a time when most Spells of the Mark were known only to the houses, and when many useful magic items existed only as dragonmark focus items. The fact that such spells can now be learned by wizards and that such items can be created in a form that anyone can use reflects centuries of effort on the part of the Arcane Congress. The houses aren’t happy about this gradual erosion of their monopolies. But while Lyrandar may be able to suppress the development of airships anyone can pilot, not even the Twelve can block the slow and steady advancement of arcane science. It’s still easier and cheaper to produce a serpentine mirror than it is to make a crystal ball… But the Royal Eyes of Aundair have a surveillance network employing crystal balls.

THE DARK AGES

When Lhazaar’s ships arrived in Khorvaire approximately three thousand years ago, they brought little in the way of arcane magic. The Khunan externalists were powerless in a land without wild zones, and the shadow lords of Ohr Kaluun didn’t join Lhazaar or the expeditions that followed her. While these explorers didn’t have wizards, they still had magic. The divine magic of the Pyrinean missionaries played an important role in ensuring the survival of the settlers, which in turn helped to cement the strong faith in the Sovereigns that remains to this day; however, the evolving role of divine magic is a topic for another article. The explorers, settlers, and reavers also counted sorcerers and warlocks among their champions. While celebrated or feared, those that followed these paths couldn’t simply teach their gifts to others, and were limited by their own heritage or the whims of patrons.

At this moment in history, none of modern nations existed; human civilization was an assortment of warlords, colonies, and small city-states. As humanity carved out its place on the continent, the first dragonmarks were appearing. The houses didn’t emerge fully formed. Each mark appeared on multiple families, and it took centuries for some houses to unlock the potential of their marks and to come together. This is discussed in this article, as well as in the 3.5 sourcebook Dragonmarked. The Scribing families were relatively quick to form the Sivis League, but the Sentinel families were actively opposed for centuries. Even before the houses were fully formed, the reliably hereditary nature of these powers meant that the dragonmarked had a degree of organization and unity—that they were able to explore their potential in ways unmatched by the warlocks and sorcerers of the age.

Another crucial element in this age was the arrival of the elves. The eradication of the line of Vol resulted in both the exile of Vol’s allies and the voluntary exodus of the Phiarlans and other elves who feared persecution. There’s a few important things to understand about this process. This wasn’t an orderly step by a nation seeking to establish colonies; it was a scattered wave of exiles and rebels. These were elves who fought against the Undying Court, or at least opposed its goals; they weren’t seeking to preserve its traditions or values. The Bloodsail Principality and House Phiarlan were the two places where these immigrants sought to retain some element of cultural identity; but the majority of exiles dispersed among the masses building nations. There are many reasons that these immigrants couldn’t raise humanity to the level of arcane sophistication seen in Aerenal. The everyday magic of Aerenal relies on an arcane infrastructure built up over tens of thousands of years. The exiles were removed from the powerful manifest zones of Aerenal, the ancient eldritch machines, the deathless mentors, and the underlying support—not to mention traditions that might call for a magewright to spend a century perfecting their skills. Even had they wished to, a single elf exile couldn’t reproduce the wonders of Aerenal in Khorvaire. Instead, most exiled wizards chose to use their talents to achieve personal power and influence. In the northeast, exiles laid the foundation of what would become the Blood of Vol. In the northwest, some helped powerful families forge ties with the local fey.

So overall, the exiled wizards of Aerenal filled the same role as sorcerers and warlocks: individuals feared or celebrated for their powers rather than the cornerstones of institutes of learning or the forces of innovation. However, merely by existing they served to inspire others—sages who recognized that these powers weren’t simply the gifts of immortal patrons or mystical mutation. Another important point is that Aereni magic hasn’t actually changed much over the last few years. So the spells of these wizards were much like those used today… and precisely because they were severed from Aereni culture (and had in many cases rebelled against it), they’re a possible source of unique spells or rituals that could be useful to a player character wizard. Consider the story of the Queen of the Burning Sky, still told in parts of Breliand even though she predates their nation. Raela Solaen was an Aereni wizard. She opposed the Undying Court and chose exile; making her way west she married Breggor Firstking of Wroat. Her arcane might was a key element of Breggor’s success; in the tales of Breggor’s siege of Shaarat (a former incarnation of Sharn), Solaen devastates the defenders with massive waves of fire. These stories may be exaggerated; Raela may have just been using fireballs and flaming spheres. On the other hand, it’s possible that the Queen of the Burning Sky developed unique war rituals—likely spells that inflicted less damage than a fireball, but with a far greater range and area of effect. As she had no interest in sharing her knowledge with others, her secrets died with her. But if Solaen’s spellshards were found today, her war rituals might be a boon to the nation that obtained them.

The key point is that in this time, few of the civilizations of Khorvaire had actually embraced the idea of SCIENCE. Warlocks and sorcerers gained their power through bargains or accidents of birth, as did the dragonmarked houses. The wizards of Aerenal were likewise considered to be enigmatic wonders; this wasn’t a path a normal person could follow. It would be centuries still before people recognized that magic was a tool that anyone could master, not some sort of divine gift.

FIVE NATIONS RISE

Two thousand years ago, Karrn the Conqueror sought to dominate Khorvaire. Five strong nations emerged from this conflict: Karrnath, Metrol, Daskara, Wroat, and Thaliost. While only shadows of the powerful nations of the present day, these young realms possessed greater resources and brought together larger numbers of sages than had been possible in the past.

During Karrn’s conquest, magic was still largely a thing of wonder rather than a tool of science. Kings and warlords employed mercenary sorcerers or exiled elves. But there were a number of crucial developments in this period.

Dragonmarks: The War of the Mark and the Twelve

It was in this time that the dragonmarked houses coalesced into something resembling their modern form. Cannith and Sivis were the first true dragonmarked houses, and both actively worked to identify other houses and to encourage them to adopt similar traditions and structure. These early houses wielded far less power than they have today, in part because they didn’t have the tools they have today; there were no airships, no lightning rail, no message stones. But Kundarak could craft arcane locks, Jorasco could cast lesser restoration, and Cannith excelled both at the creation of mundane goods and at the creation of magic items—though at this time, even something we’d now consider to be uncommon would be a great treasure. The houses were still learning what they could do: but even beyond their active magic, the intuition granted by a dragonmark meant that the house heirs excelled at certain fields. An Orien heir is faster than an unmarked courier and excels at the operation of land vehicles, while even before elemental vessels, any marked Lyrandar heir has a knack for navigation. Artisan’s Intuition provides a Cannith heir with a bonus to any ability check involving artisans’s tools. The heirs of the dragonmarked houses were simply better at certain things than unmarked folk, and even as they learned the full powers of their marks, they also worked to establish their dominance in those fields.

In addition to their innate powers, the houses were pioneers in the field of wizardry. Cannith and Sivis were foremost in this. Having observed the exiled elves of Aerenal, recognizing the power of words and the fact that their own marks were manipulating a form of energy in a measurable way, the members of these houses dug deeper into arcane mysteries. Sivis explored the science of sigilry and the paths of divination and illusion, while Cannith delved more deeply into conjuration, abjuration, and transmutation. Two of the greatest pioneers were Alder d’Cannith and Lyssia Lyrriman d’Sivis. Were you to meet either of these two in combat today, their magic might not be so impressive; as discussed in previous articles, they required higher level spell slots to cast spells we know today. But it was Lyssia who developed the basic foundation of the elemental sigils—the verbal and somatic components used by most modern externalist wizards. Alder developed the earliest form of the modern magecraft spell, as well as pioneering techniques of spell preparation and aspects of artifice.

Even as the dragonmarked houses were carving out their places in the world, aberrant dragonmarks were becoming more common and more powerful. Aberrant heirs were by far the most common form of sorcerer or warlock in this age. Aberrant dragonmarks are a dangerous burden for those who bear them, but they can be mastered and wielded safely. There were places where aberrant sorcerers served in the military, or found other ways to use their destructive powers for the greater good. But any possibility for the peaceful integration of aberrant dragonmarks came to an end with the War of the Mark. This conflict occurred approximately 1,500 years ago and is covered in other sources, but it had two major effects. The first was the near eradication of aberrant dragonmarks and lasting prejudice against those who bear them. The second was to strengthen and unify the dragonmarked houses. It was in the final days of the War of the Mark that Hadran d’Cannith proposed that the houses work together to create an “institute for the application of magic“—a foundation that would study both the dragonmarks and ways to harness their power, but also other forms of arcane magic. It was Hadran’s charisma and dreams that paved the way for the Twelve, but it was Alder d’Cannith who made it a reality. It was Alder who designed the Tower of the Twelve, and who insisted on the name of the organization, and it was in this tower that Lyssia d’Sivis perfected the elemental sigils.

For the next five centuries, the Tower of the Twelve was the greatest institute of arcane learning in Khorvaire. While much of its resources were focused on the development of dragonmark focus items and other ways to harness dragonmarks, it also drove the development of wizardry and the earliest magewrights. A key point is that the Twelve didn’t seek to create forms of the Spells of the Mark that anyone could use. They weren’t interested in crafting an arcane lock that anyone could cast. But they were interested in the potential of arcane magic, and many of the spells and rituals they perfected could be learned by anyone with talent, marked or otherwise.

Hedge Wizards and Other Traditions

It’s a simple fact that magic works. Even in the Dark Ages, the priests of Aureon mastered a few basic principles of wizardry. Externalist wizards learned to tap the power of their local manifest zones, even if these spells were rough in form and only possible in specific rituals. Here’s a few figures known to history.

Heken Askarda was a Daskaran monk devoted to Aureon, who pioneered the development of utilitarian magic. Notably, she created spells—at the time, 1st level wizard spells—that produced the individual effects of prestidigitation (heating, chilling, cleaning, soiling, etc). Later generations would refine these spells to the level of cantrip and ultimately to the versatile spell that people use today. Early wizards were often focused on the combat applications of magic; Heken sought to show how Aureon’s gift could improve all aspects of life.
Duran perfected many of the basic techniques of arcane necromancy employed by the Blood of Vol. While Duran died long ago, some say that he was also the first human of the Five Nations to master the rituals required to become a lich.
Beren’s Hearth was a legendary inn located in a Fernian manifest zone. The innkeeper Beren had crafted externalist spells allowing him to channel the power of Fernia to heat food and the inn itself. According to the tales, when a group of bandits threatened Beren and his guests, the innkeeper called the fire out of the hearth, and it chased down his enemies and burned them. To this day, Brelish wizards often call flaming sphere “Beren’s blaze” and fire bolt “Beren’s blast.” According to the tales, Beren’s Hearth finally burnt down and the land was claimed for a Cannith foundry. There are many conflicting accounts of just where the Hearth was, and some who say that it was the Twelve—notably agents of Ghallanda and Cannith—who burned down the Hearth.

Beren and Heken are good examples of the wizards of this time. Both focused on narrow fields of magic. Heken’s spells were effects that can now be cast as cantrips, while Beren’s fire spells were strong but relied on a direct tie to Fernia; nonetheless, they were spells that they developed and improved in their lifetimes, and which were further improved upon by future generations of wizards. When a Brelish wizard casts Beren’s blast they aren’t actually casting the spell created by the Wroatian wizard, but they are using the pyromantic principles he pioneered.

The Mages of Thaliost

There’s a strong fey presence in the land now known in Aundair. The earlier settlers found ways to make peace with these spirits, and the great families that forged the nation of Thaliost attributed their success to their fey pacts. While this produced a number of legendary warlocks, such as Tyman Three-Cloaks and Vilina the Unseen, not all of the fey the families dealt with had the power to create warlocks—and those that did might only grant such gifts to one child in a generation. Thaliost also drew an unusual number of Aereni exiles during the Dark Ages. Some of these chose to settle in the Towering Wood, ultimately producing the first Greensingers. Others joined the ancient families, earning influence with their arcane knowledge. As noted earlier, it was no simple thing for the Aereni to share their traditions, and few wanted to; most of the exiles preferred to keep their secrets as a unique resource preserving their value. While the elf wizards and Archfey warlocks were rare, they were a part of life. Margana Lain was an early arcane pioneer, convinced that what the fey seemed to do by whim, mortals could master through will. Over the course of her life she made dramatic breakthroughs in the basic techniques of Illusion and Enchantment magic. While she was a wizard whose powers were based on arcane science, many stories that followed called her Margana the Fey, claiming that her studies allowed her to become an archfey. Arcanix-trained mages may refer to disguise self as Margana’s masque; invisibility as Margana’s veil; and minor illusion as Margana’s mirror (according to legend, Margana would weave images in a mirror, then pull them out into the world). In the present day, the ir’Lains are a proud Aundairian dynasty; Darro ir’Lain is Second Warlord of the Realm and Commander of the Knights Arcane.

Beyond her own accomplishments, Margana was instrumental in the creation of the Guild of Moonlight and Whispers, the first true wizard’s circle of the Five Nations. The Guild became an influential force in Thaliost, and soon other circles followed in its footsteps. These circles lacked the numbers or resources of the Twelve, and members were often distracted by petty feuds with other circles. But they also became an important element of Thaliost culture and fueled arcane research, ultimately forming a foundation for the Arcane Congress.

GALIFAR AND THE ARCANE CONGRESS

Approximately one thousand years ago, Galifar Wynarn of Karrnath succeeded where Karrn the Conqueror had failed, uniting the Five Nations under the banner of the kingdom that bore his name. A key element of his victory was the work of his daughter Aundair. Long intrigued by arcane science, Aundair studied with both the Twelve and the Guild of Moonlight and Whispers, and had come up with her own unique theories of magic—the basic elements of Siberyan theory. The people she worked with had great respect for her talents—and this in turn played an important role both in Galifar’s negotiations with the Twelve and in recruiting Thaliost mages to his cause. There was no question that Aundair would govern Thaliost in the united kingdom. As the princess took stock of her domain, she worked to quell the conflicts between the rival circles of magic. Aundair recognized that the Twelve was capable of accomplishing grander things than the little circles… but she likewise knew both that the Twelve would always approach magic with a desire for profit, and that their greatest interest would always be harnessing the power of the dragonmarks. Beyond this, she had witnessed firsthand the desire to the houses to prevent people from developing spells that replicated the Spells of the Mark; she concluded that her father’s kingdom needed an institution that would pursue arcane science for the good of the kingdom, not simply in pursuit of gold. In 15 YK, Galifar I established the Arcane Congress, which united the resources of the Aundairian circles… though the circles have always continued to exist as fraternal orders in Aundair, and additional circles were established across Galifar.

The question has come up before: If you went back in time, how would the magic used by Aundair differ from that a wizard wields in the present day? Using the terms discussed in this article, the wizardry of early Galifar had higher spell slots (1-2 level higher cost than modern spells), lengthy preparation, and limited options. Notably, it would be centuries before any form of necromancy was part of the curriculum. Likewise, in the early days there simply weren’t many spells known over 3rd level. Today, the library of Arcanix includes spells created by the prodigies of the past even though few modern mages can cast them, but in the first days of the congress it would be possible for an exceptional wizard to have a 5th level spell slot… and simply not know any 5th level spells.

Institutes of Learning

This article talks about the education of magewrights, but what of wizards? The Arcane Congress was supported by Galifar, but it wasn’t the only institute of learning… And especially in the wake of the war, other nations had to develop their own

The Arcane Congress / Arcanix (Aundair). The Arcane Congress is a massive institution with campuses across Aundair. The most renowned among these is Arcanix, which serves as a center both for cutting edge research and for teaching the most advanced students. The original mission of the Arcane Congress was to improve the quality of life for the people of Galifar, and some of its greatest achievements were the development of the prestidigitation and mending cantrips, and the development of the everbright lantern.When Galifar collapsed, the Congress was immediately militarized. The core of Arcanix is located in a cluster of floating towers, and it was moved to its current location during the Last War to secure territory claimed from Thrane; while Arcanix is a school, it’s also an arcane citadel. All schools of magic can be studied at the Arcane Congress, but Aundair is particularly noted for diviners, abjurers, and conjurers. Aundair’s intelligence service—the Royal Eyes—makes extensive use of divination, and a skilled diviner may be recruited by the agency.
Atur Academy (Karrnath). Based in the so-called “City of Night” in Karrnath, Atur Academy specializes in mystical studies shunned by other institutions. Atur is a stronghold of the Blood of Vol, and the Academy has no equal when it comes to the study of necromancy. While its coverage of other schools of magic is unremarkable, its researchers develop spells that others would consider to be horrifying, and its vaults are said to contain tomes and scrolls of many spells forbidden during the reign of Galifar.
The Library of Korranberg (Zilargo). The gnomes of Zilargo place great value on illusion, divination, and enchantment magic. Most of Zilargo’s many universities teach at least one of these subjects. The Library of Korranberg is especially noteworthy, and its divination facilities rival those of Arcanix.
Morgrave University (Breland). Breland relies on the trade schools of the Twelve for general magical education, and the King’s Citadel trains spies and war mages. But Morgrave University is Breland’s best option for general research and private training. Morgrave’s faculty is eclectic, and its facilities are no match for Arcanix. But Morgrave still produces an impressive number of wizards and artificers. This is driven by a tradition of encouraging students to personalize their techniques, shifting verbal and somatic components to find a uniquely effective approach. Aundairian and Aereni wizards find this to be revoltingly slipshod, but it has produced some impressive results.
Rekkenmark (Karrnath). While its focus has always been military strategy and martial excellence, since the collapse of Galifar Rekkenmark has aggressively expanded its mystical studies. While still limited in scope, Rekkenmark has top-notch facilities for evokers and war magic, and reasonable instructors for conjuration and abjuration.
The Tower of the Twelve (Karrnath). Each dragonmarked house maintains trade schools tied to its guilds across Khorvaire, and many houses have their own facilities that engage in the secret or private work of their house. The Tower of the Twelve isn’t a production facility; rather, it is both a symbol of house cooperation and a center that brings together the finest minds of all of the houses to conduct shared research and to train promising heirs. It has access to unrivaled resources, drawing on bother the finest minds and vast resources of the houses. However, its primary focus is always on the applications of the dragonmarks and on things that can produce profit, rather than on purely abstract knowledge.

Two other noteworthy schools were lost in the Mourning. The Vermishard Academy trained promising nobles in the arts of enchantment, while the Wynarn Institute of Art (WIA) focused on the artistic potential of illusion and conjuration magic. Like other nations, Cyre embraced the martial aspects of magic during the Last War, but its war magic programs weren’t as developed as those of Karrnath or Aundair.

The Pace of Innovation

If I had more time, this article would include a timeline of the development of key arcane tools, from the siege staff to the speaking stone and beyond. I’m afraid this will have to wait for a future article. But it is crucial to understand that arcane science in the Five Nations is advancing at an exponential rate. The first lightning rail went into service in 811 YK. The first true warforged was created in 965 YK. The first elemental airships took flight in 990 YK. The Last War dramatically ramped up the pace of innovation, and saw more widespread training in the use of offensive cantrips (resulting in the more widespread presence of wandslingers). Beyond this, House Tharashk’s ever-greater ability to gather dragonshards and evolving ability to refine them has helped to support the more industrial role of magic—something that will be discussed in the upcoming article of Arcane Industry.

Alternate Spell Names

This article suggests a number of alternate names for spells tied to historical figures; a Brelish evoker might refer to flaming sphere as Beren’s blaze, while an Aundairian illusionist could refer to invisibility as Margana’s veil. The goal here isn’t to replace names and demand that you use these new names. Rather, it’s an example of the fact that spell names—like fireball— are largely generic and that different nations and cultures may have their own names for them. A Cyran wizard might cast an externalist form of fireball they call Fernia’s fury, while a Karrn evoker might use a Siberyan form called red dragon’s wrath. Spells are tools, and it’s not like there’s only one version of a sword in the world. But the key point here is that I’m never going to come up with a complete list of unique Brelish spell names… and that it’s always ok to just call a fireball a fireball. Use my suggestions if you like, but as a player or DM you should always feel free to name your own spells. If you don’t want to just cast ray of frost, YOU can decide you call it ice drake’s tooth… though, or course, you may have to tell your DM “That’s ray of frost.”

The same principle applies in reverse to any spell in D&D that HAS a proper name attached, like Tasha’s hideous laughter. One option is to simply drop the proper name; the spell is hideous laughter. Another is to replace it with someone from Eberron; Tenser’s floating disk could be Heken’s floating disk. A third option is to create Eberron versions of these common characters…

Sora Tasha was a wizard of Thaliost who was adopted by the infamous Sora Kell. In some stories, Tasha was a beloved protege of her “grandmother,” who disappeared into the planes long ago searching for Sora Kell. In other versions of the story, Tasha was responsible for Sora Kell’s disappearance, stealing her mentor’s grimoire and trapping her in a planar prison. Some stories say Tasha is long dead, while others say her spells have preserved her and she has taken Sora Kell’s hidden sanctum as her own.
Mordenkainen d’Phiarlan is the original name of the wizard now known as Mordain the Fleshweaver. As Mordain, he is infamous for his mastery of transmutation magic; but he was a remarkably gifted wizard who came up with a number of innovative spells before he became obsessed with transmutation, and those that use this name are among his earlier works. The slight twist is that most of his spells draw on Xoriat in various ways. The phantom hound of Mordenkainen’s faithful hound is a many-eyed multiidimensional denizen of Xoriat. Mordenkainen’s blade is a shard of Xoriat itself. Mordenkainen’s magnificent mansion creates a pocket of space in Xoriat; fortunately, it’s impossible to breach the walls of the manor (probably…). Note that this has nothing in common with magnificent mansions created through other methods (such as Ghallanda’s manor key)… Again, one spell can have many variants. It’s also the case that there are few living spellcasters who could actually CAST Mordenkainen’s sword; it’s something that might be found in one of Mordain’s abandoned spellshards, deep in the library of Arcanix.
Bigby is said to be a giant wizard of the Cul’sir Dominion. He was one of the mentors (and slavemasters) of the legendary elf wizard Cardaen. When the warrior queen Vadallia rescued Cardaen from the citadel he was imprisoned in, she cut off the giant’s hand. Cardaen later perfected the series of spells, saying that he had bound Bigby’s hand to do his bidding. Cardaen’s spells are known both to Tairnadal and Aereni wizards, and could have been shared with wizards of the Five Nations.

In Conclusion…

I had hoped to incorporate a more lengthy list of innovators and a timeline of some of the major developments, such as the everbright lantern and the siege staff. However, the fact is that this article has already taken more time than I have available—and that if I were to add every detail I’d like to add, it might be weeks before I could complete it. The next article in this series will cover Arcane Industry, and if time allows I’d love to do a shorter article speicifically about innovators and innovations—but time is always the enemy. I will note that Arcane Industry will cover the questions about the regulation of magical research that’s come up in the past.

Thanks to my Patreon supporters for choosing this topic. It’s your support that makes these articles possible, and that determines the amount of time I can spend on them. I’ll be posting a poll for the next new topic soon!

Dragonmarks: The Arcane Arts

Posted on December 31, 2020 by Keith Baker

Magic is a part of Eberron. The world is drenched in eldritch power—the force that flows from the Ring of Siberys, the energies of the planes, enigmatic divine power sources. Like wind, tide, iron or fire—magic is a resource waiting to be harnessed.

This is the second in a series of articles. The previous article covered the THEORIES of arcane magic. This article delves deeper into the practical evolution of magic—the concrete elements of a spell and how less advanced forms of magic differ from what we cast today. Subsequent articles will deal both with the specific evolution of arcane science in Khorvaire—including specific innovators and key discoveries—and arcane industry in the Five Nations. However, to understand how magic has evolved we need to understand the elements of magic in more detail.

Where this article references rules, it assumes the use of the fifth edition of D&D. Also, as with the previous article, this specifically addresses the development of ARCANE MAGIC as opposed to psionics, divine magic, or primal traditions. In fifth edition, the distinction between these is more story-driven than mechanical; nothing’s stopping you from describing your bard as using primal magic. But this is about the development of arcane science as described in my previous article—and with that in mind, primarily focused on artificers and wizards. As always, this is what I do at MY table, and what follows may contradict canon material. Use what you like, ignore what you don’t!

Magic: More Complicated Than You Know

To understand how arcane magic has evolved, we have to look under the hood and understand exactly how it works today. The rules of Dungeons & Dragons deal with the game mechanics of magic. For a wizard to cast a fireball, they must prepare the spell during a long rest. It takes an action to cast the spell, burning a 3rd level spell slot and requiring verbal, somatic, and material components. That fireball has a range of 150 feet and inflicts 8d6 fire damage. These are the FACTS of the fireball, and it doesn’t matter if the wizard is drawing on the essence of Fernia, using sympathetic magic, or focussing the Blood of Siberys to produce this effect: Fireball is one action; V S M components; 3rd level spell slot.

Those are the facts of the fireball. But what does any of that mean? What IS a spell slot? What are components? What does it mean to “prepare a spell”? What is the STORY behind these things, that explains what your wizards is actually doing? As described in the Arcane Science article, the basic principle of arcane magic is that the spellcaster is harnessing a particular power source—perhaps the emanations of the Ring of Siberys or the power of the planes—through scientific principles. They have mastered reliable, repeatable techniques that allow them to alter reality in specific ways. Let’s take a closer look at each element of spellcasting.

PREPARING SPELLS

Both wizards and artificers have access to a wide range of spells. Artificers have access to the full artificer spell list, while wizards can cast any spell in their spellbooks. But they have to prepare a specific subset of those spells during a long rest, and these are the only spells they can cast until they go through a second round of preparation.

It’s easy to overlook the importance of preparation. It’s something that happens between adventures. But the point is that while a wizard or artificer may know how to cast dozens of spells, that knowledge is useless to them without proper preparation. And this is a key part of recognizing the complexity of arcane magic. Yes, it only takes a wizard six seconds to cast fireball… But that’s because they have spent hours preparing to cast fireball. For the artificer, this is a little more obvious; they produce their spell effects using tools, and they are literally preparing those tools. When an Alchemist artificer prepares cure wounds, they are mixing up a base salve that can be triggered to generate an instant healing effect; the salve they’d use for alter self is entirely different, and if they haven’t mixed it up during the long rest, they can’t prepare it in the middle of an adventure. This same principle applies to the wizard. They aren’t preparing physical tools, but they are performing a host of minor rituals and formulas that are required to be able to cast that swift spell. When a wizard prepares fireball, they might first need to mediate on the twelve principles of fire, running through a series of equations in their mind. Next, they build on that to establish a source of power. This could be forging a connection to Fernia, or it might be igniting a spark within their own spirit—an ember forged from the Blood of Siberys that they carry within. Think of the actual casting of the spell as turning on the gas to a gas stove; it doesn’t do anything if you don’t have the spark prepared to ignite it. But even then, there’s ANOTHER series of rituals that need to be performed—to protect the caster from the powers that they are channelling. Consider how dangerous it is to work with other sources of power in our word—electricity, fire, nuclear power. Arcane power is no different. A wizard who casts fireball without proper precautions could spontaneously combusts, or simply boil the blood within their brain. Part of preparing fireball is preparing the wards that protect you from the dangers of casting the spell. To be clear, this is a very specific set of wards that only protect you from CASTING the spell, and that are shielding you an arcane level—reinforcing your aura, not your flesh. Consider also that these preparations are distinct for each spell. You may use the same arcane spark to ignite your fireball and burning hands, but the fact that you have to prepare those two separately shows that each one has its own unique set of required rituals. All of which is to say that this preparation is extremely specific; preparing fireball doesn’t automatically protect you from FIRE, it just protects you from the very specific dangers involved in casting fireball.

The main point here is that as a wizard, you do most of your actual WORK during your long rest. You likely don’t get as much sleep as your comrades, because you’re going over Fernian formulas in your mind and tracing draconic sigils in the air, gathering the forces you will unleash the following day. Your power doesn’t come without effort; you put in a lot of work to prepare your spells.

COMPONENTS

I talked about components at length in this article. The short form is that components may vary and will reflect the arcane tradition you’re following. A Siberyan wizard will speak a few of the hundred Draconic words for fire, while an Externalist chants in Primordial. Components serve two purposes. They trigger the effects the caster spent hours preparing, and they also help to focus and channel that power. The key point is that the components are the trigger that invokes the previous preparations; they don’t produce the effect on their own.

SPELL SLOTS

If you think of a spell as a gun, the components are the trigger. The preparations are the bullet, carefully loaded in place and ready for use. The spell slot is the powder—the surge of energy that imbues the bullet with deadly force. So it is with spells. Someone can perform all the proper steps, say the words of power, trace the proper sigils in the air, but it’s all meaningless unless they can channel the POWER that enforces their will upon reality.

Spell slots reflect the maximum amount of energy a particular spellcaster can draw on in an instant (their maximum spell slot level) as well as their overall endurance (total number of slots). A low level wizard could understand the principles behind fireball, but they can’t grasp the power required to cast it. Possessing a spell slot means knowing both how to channel this degree of power, but also how to channel it safely. Again, arcane energy is like electricity, like fire, like radiation; it is dangerous, and there are limits on how much of it any one person can handle. When a wizard has exhausted their spell slots, they have pushed their mind and spirit to dangerous levels; they just can’t marshal the mental focus required to weave the threads of magic, and even attempting it could kill them.

WHAT ABOUT RITUALS AND CANTRIPS?

Performing a spell as a ritual allows the spellcaster to draw on the energies slowly and evenly, without taking the same physical or mental demand on the spellcaster… which is why spells cast as rituals don’t use a spell slot. Meanwhile, cantrips channel trivial amounts of arcane energy, which is why they also don’t require spell slots.

NPC arcane magewrights and wandslingers can typically only perform rituals or cantrips, though some may know one or two spells they can cast once per day. The flip side to this is that magewrights can often cast spells as rituals even though those spells don’t have the ritual tag. First and foremost, this reflects a deep and absolute dedication to a small set of spells. It’s not JUST that they have spent years honing those few spells; an elf wizard could do that. It’s that they focus on those things to the exclusion of all else. The arcane locksmith can’t spend a few more years and become a lamplighter as well; learning to cast continual flame as a ritual would cause them to lose the focus on locks that allows them to cast arcane lock as a ritual. Which is why player characters can’t learn these magewright rituals: the very act of being an adventurer would distract from the intense focus required to be a magewright. And as noted in Rising From The Last War, magewright rituals have an additional component cost, typically paid with refined Eberron dragonshards; it’s a specialized form of spellcasting that’s quite different from the flexible casting of a wizard.

SCHOOLS AND SPELLS

A PC wizard can cast any wizard spell. They may have an affinity for a particular school of magic, but a Diviner wizard can cast any wizard spell, and spells of all schools are taught at Arcanix. However, this reflects the remarkable talent and flexibility of PC wizards and the fact that Arcanix is the pinnacle of centuries of arcane research. The different schools of magic are different branches of science, and few people can master them all. An NPC evoker might not be able to cast divination, illusion, or enchantment spells; they’ve learn to conjure, to abjure, and to evoke powerful forces, but they simply can’t grasp the softer schools. A particular branch of the Esoteric Order of Aureon may not have any members who can actually perform necromancy. This same principle applies to spell selection. In general, PCs are allowed to learn any spell from the wizard spell list. But a DM could choose to limit certain spells, saying that they haven’t actually been developed by the character’s culture. Here’s a few ways to approach this…

Have the character acquire a spellbook belonging to a legendary mage—Mordain the Fleshweaver, Minara Vol—whose contents never became part of the common canon. it could be that these spells are higher level than most NPC wizards can cast, or it could be that there’s something about them that keeps lesser mages from being able to master them.
Tie the spell to an elite organization. This is why a wizard may want to join the Esoteric Order of Aureon or the Guild of Starlight and Shadows—to get access to spells that aren’t part of the common canon. It could be that multiple organizations have different versions of the same spell—the Aundairian Knights Phantom, the Tairnadal, and Thrane’s Order of the Silver Blades—all teach sword burst, but all use different variations with different physical manifestations.
Tie the spells to an ancient culture—Qabalrin necromancy, Cul’sir evocation. Examples are provided later in this article. It could be that the character is able to directly scribe spells from an ancient spellshard or spellbook, or it could be that the old spellbook provides inspiration that allows them to create entirely new spells—perhaps adding a new spell each time there’s downtime. Or it could be that the ghost of a giant wizard is haunting the ruins of Xen’drik, seeking to pass on its knowledge before it releases its grip on the world.
The adventurer could be the chosen protege of a powerful being—a dragon of the Chamber, Lady Illmarrow, one of the Lords of Dust. Or the mentor could be a purely intangible presence: Sul Khatesh, an Archfey, an Ascendant Councilor, or a force claiming to be Aureon. Why has such a powerful being chosen to help the PC? Do they have knowledge of the character’s potential actions through the Prophecy? Or do they have some personal investment in the character?

Personally, I wouldn’t do too much of this with spells of third level and below. There are places stronger in different schools of magic—for example, Atur is the best place to learn about necromancy—but 1st-3rd level spells are supposed to be easily accessible, and I wouldn’t want to place restrictions on a PC wizard early in their career. It’s in getting to higher level spells that AREN’T supposed to be common in Khorvaire that I’d put more emphasis on the wonder involved in acquiring them. There are very few wizards in the Five Nations who can cast a 7th level spell, so they’re shouldn’t BE a vast library of such spells just sitting on the shelf in Arcanix; acquiring such power should feel dramatic, whether the character is scribing their own spells, uncovering ancient secrets, or working with an enigmatic mentor. Having said that, wizards and artificers shouldn’t suffer for the story; the point is not to limit their access to spells, but to highlight how remarkable such characters are.

WHAT DOES ALL OF THIS MEAN?

Magic as it exists in the rules of fifth edition reflects the current state of the art. It didn’t begin this way. More primitive forms of arcane magic could have a number of limitations, and such things could be encountered through time travel or simply when dealing with some sort of primitive culture. Here’s a few ways to represent more primitive magic; I’m numbering them so that you could roll a d12 if you want to randomly generate a flawed form of magic.

Higher Spell Slots. The techniques of modern magic are designed to allow the caster to safely channel a significant amount of arcane energy… which translates to spell slots. A spellcaster using more limited techniques can’t channel so much magic as easily; they have to channel more energy to produce the same effect as a more advanced mage, which is to say their spells have an increased spell slot cost. This is one of the basic aspects of the pre-Galifar magic of the Five Nations; it used to be that magic missile was a second level spell. And the idea of someone being able to cast teleport? Don’t be ridiculous, it would take an impossible amount of power! So using this approach, you can use the same SPELLS, but increase the required spell slot by 1 or more levels. In such a scenario, it’s quite likely that the culture has no cantrips—that cantrip effects might require the expenditure of a 1st level spell slot.
Lengthy Preparation. The ability for a wizard or artificer to completely change out their prepared spells during a long rest reflects the sophistication of current techniques. A less advanced wizard might be limited in how swiftly they can change spells; it might take a full long rest just to prepare/replace one new spell.
Lengthy Casting. The ability to cast a spell in six seconds is a feature of advanced spellcasting. A slightly less advanced tradition might mean that a spell that normally takes an action to cast instead requires a full turn, preventing the caster from moving or taking a bonus action. An even more limited spell might require multiple actions to complete… though an interesting variation of this would be a tradition that allows multiple spellcasters to work together; so if a primitive fireball takes three actions to cast, one spellcaster could use three actions, or three spellcasters could work together and each use one action to complete it. This could also apply to the spell slot expended, which would be a way to offset a higher cost. So perhaps the primitive fireball takes 3 actions and a 6th level spell slot to cast—but up to three casters can work together on both, each contributing an action and a 2nd level spell slot to cast it. A more limited tradition might only be able to cast spells as rituals.
Limited Options. Simpler traditions may very well be restricted to specific schools of magic. An old Seeker wizard of pre-Galifar Karrnath might only know Necromancy and Divination spells, and be unable to master spells of other schools.
Limited Location. The spellcaster can only cast spells in a specific area. This could be quite large; an ancient externalist wizard might be able to cast spells while within 20 miles of a powerful manifest zone. On the other hand, it could be very limited; a wizard who can only perform magic within their tower. It’s possible that a player character wizard could use Arcana to adapt such spells to a form that could be used in any location, but it’s equally possible that the spell is too dependent to be adapted.
Required Focus. A modern wizard has the option to use a focus instead of material components, and can quickly switch between different focuses. A more limited tradition might require the spellcaster to make use of a particular focus: a haunted skull that guides a necromancer, a staff carved from a tree watered with the wizard’s blood. Such things could be magic items that anyone would find useful, or they could only have power in the hands of the mage that made them.
Required Species. A wizard’s spell uses the caster as a lens for its power. The spells of a particular tradition might only work with a specific type of lens—which is to say, a spell crafted by a giant might not work when cast by a human wizard (it might even harm the caster, who lacks the endurance of a giant). This is a case where a modern wizard might be able to make an Arcana check as a downtime activity to adapt the spell so anyone can cast it.
Expensive Components. A limited tradition could require the expenditure of expensive components for spells that don’t require such things in the modern form. These could be very specific (the eye of a griffon) or more general (50 gp worth of Eberron dragonshards). Note that this is an aspect of modern magewright magic; it could be more severe in limited traditions.
A Higher Price. A basic principle of this idea is that magic is dangerous and that the preparations wizards make allow them to safely perform magic. A more primitive tradition might not have all those preparations in place, in which case a spellcaster might suffer a level of exhaustion when they cast a spell, suffer direct damage, or have some other lingering consequence.
Unpleasant Cosmetic Effects. Not all effects have to have a mechanical impact. It’s possible that a primitive style of magic has a cosmetic effect that makes the spell difficult to use. Perhaps it creates a foul stench, or causes minor vegetation around the caster to die, or leaches the color from the caster’s hair and clothes. Perhaps the caster needs to shout their verbal components as loudly as possible. Perhaps an old form of necromancy causes the caster to attract restless spirits; they and everyone around them hear the whispers and moans of these minor shades for hours after the wizard casts a spell.
Challenging Concentration. The ease of maintaining an ongoing spell is a facet of modern magic. Someone using less advanced techniques might have disadvantage on Concentration checks to maintain their spells.
Greater Power. One unexpected side effect is that some primitive traditions of magic could be MORE powerful than modern magic—but the point is that this benefit is offset by the negative side effects described above, and the pioneers of modern magic sacrificed a degree of power for safety and ease of use. So it could be that the Externalist fire wizard of ancient Khunan adds the benefits of the Distant Spell and Empowered Spell Metamagic features when she casts a fireball—but she can only cast it within a mile of a Fernian manifest zone, and she suffers ten points of fire damage herself. Or it could be that an enchanter gains the benefits of Subtle Spell, but can only perform magic in his tower. Again, the point is that the side effects outweigh the benefits—but it’s still a way make “primitive” magic an unexpected challenge. Adding the Metamagic features of the sorcerer is a simple way to reflect such benefits, but anything is possible.

The basic point to all of this is that magic as we know it is quite sophisticated. The reason the Aereni, the dragons, and the wizards of Arcanix all use the same basic techniques is because it’s about as good as it gets. The Aereni wizard is a higher level wizard than the typical Arcanix graduate, which means that Aereni wizard has more spell slots and can cast spells that are beyond the ability of the students of Arcanix. But the techniques—the casting time, the components, the ease of concentration and preparation—are generally equivalent. With that said, part of the point is that it’s the PLAYER CHARACTERS who can perform this sophisticated magic. The tradition of the magewright is more limited: spells have Lengthy Casting (ritual only), Expensive Components (dragonshards), and Lengthy Preparation (well, in fact, NO ability to swap spells). The common wandslinger requires a focus. Beyond that, the general idea is that cantrips themselves are a relatively recent development in the mystical history of Galifar—which is why wandslingers were first fielded during the Last War. This in turn reflects the idea that the Five Nations are still evolving… while Aerenal, for example, has surely had cantrips for thousands of years, if not tens of thousands.

WHAT ABOUT ADVANCED MAGIC?

The previous section suggests ways that primitive magic could be inferior to magic as presented in the rules. Does that mean that the magic of advanced societies—such as Aerenal, Argonnessen, or the Venomous Demesne—should break the rules in other ways? If a primitive fireball is a 6th level spell, should an advanced one be a 1st level spell? While there is a certain logic to this, it’s not the path we’ve taken in the design. Given that player characters can COME from Aerenal or the Demesne, changing the rules of magic for that culture creates all sorts of issues—either story problems if you need to explain why the player character doesn’t use those superior rules, or balance problems if you allow them to. So what marks an advanced society isn’t that the rules are different; it’s that spellcasters are higher level.

What we’ve established in Khorvaire is that magic of 1st-3rd level is incorporated into everyday life, magic of 4th-5th level is rare but possible, and spells of higher level than that are all but unknown. Meanwhile, the rarity of a magic item is fairly accurate; common items are common, rare items are possible but rare, and legendary items are in fact legendary. By contrast, in Aerenal magic of up to 5th level is part of everyday life, while up to 7th level is known, and Aereni crafters can produce rare and very rare items. In part this applies to wizards and artificers, but the same principle applies to Aereni magewrights and adepts; even if they don’t actually use spell slots, they have access to spells of higher level than mages of the Five Nations. Go to Argonnessen, and great wyrms can cast spells of 9th level—or higher! So the point is that advanced civilizations don’t use different rules, but rather that powerful effects or more widespread. A player character from Aerenal CAN master the magic of their homeland by simply gaining enough experience; it’s simply that there are more NPCs that wield similar power there.

With that said, it’s certainly the case that advanced magical civilizations may have access to tools or rituals that don’t adhere to the rules—eldritch machines, or rituals such as the Du’rashka Tul or the spells the giants used to destroy the 13th moon. Like magewrights, these are things that exist outside the standard rules for player characters. The moon-breaking ritual of the giants wasn’t something that was cast by a single giant and it wasn’t a standard spell; it was something channeled through an eldritch machine and that required multiple mages—and quite possible a planar conjunction—to work. The magic wielded by player characters is reliable and convenient; the point of the eldritch machine is that magic doesn’t always follow those rules.

Alien Nations, Fallen Civilizations, Forgotten Secrets

In the vast swath of time since the Age of Demons, many civilizations have harnessed arcane power. Delving deeply into these civilizations is beyond the scope of article, but it’s useful to explore a few of them at a high level, to have some concept of what’s gone before and what wonders player characters might discover in their adventures. Most of these civilizations are (or were) more advanced that the Five Nations in at least some ways; this is why their relics are valuable, and not simply something you could buy from Cannith. But there’s a number of important things to keep in mind. First of all, many of these civilizations existed for thousands—in some cases tens of thousands—of years. It’s not that these civilizations were in some way innately superior to humanity, capable of grasping secrets the Five Nations could never unravel on their own; it’s that they had time to unravel those secrets. This ties to the second point. It’s a common mistake to think that many of the great arcane innovations of the last millennium—for example, elemental binding and the warforged—were simply stolen from past civilizations. In both cases, these developments were inspired by discoveries made in Xen’drik, but the simple fact is that most advanced magic items can’t easily be duplicated by less advanced civilizations. You can’t just take the wand of Orcus apart and figure out how it works. An artificer can look at a Sulatar firesled and tell that it’s using a bound elemental. But how is it bound? What’s maintaining the wards? How was it constructed? Is it using unfamiliar materials—materials harnessed from a manifest zone, harvested from a creature never seen in Khorvaire, or created through transmutation? Was it created using an eldritch machine, in which case we’d need access to that machine to fully understand it? Did it use dragonshards refined with an unknown technique, or altered in some way (like the dusk shards of Q’barra)?

The point here is that it’s generally possible to identify the function of an alien magic item and to find a way to attune to it or use it, but that doesn’t mean it’s possible to duplicate it. It could be a wizard’s life work just to duplicate the material used on a firesled… which would be a crucial insight into the overall arcane science of the Sulat League. As is, the point is that the Zil binders were inspired by their discoveries of Sulat artifacts, but they developed their own, unique tradition of elemental binding based on that inspiration. Notably, the Sulatar drow do not have airships, and the Zil don’t currently have small vessels like firesleds. The same thing is true of House Cannith and the warforged. The discovery of the quorforged inspired Merrix and Aaren’s work, but quorforged weren’t sentient and weren’t created using the Mark of Making. If a team discovered an ancient Sulat FACTORY and were able to hold it for an extended period of time, they might be able to unlock its secrets and employ those techniques. But generally ancient relics are a source of inspiration as opposed to being the key to transforming society. Which means that if your fighter gets a vorpal blade from the ruins below Stormreach, it’s not irresponsible of you to hold onto it instead of handing it over to Cannith; they’d be impressed by its enchantments, but they couldn’t just turn around and start mass-producing them tomorrow. Having said all that, there ARE sages in Arcanix, Morgrave, and Korranberg who are studying all of these ancient cultures and working to unlock their secrets; but it’s not a trivial challenge.

The following list doesn’t cover all of the advanced arcane societies of Eberron, because there are a tremendous number of them. This doesn’t deal with the dragonborn empire that once spread out from Q’barra, the Umbragen drow below Khyber, or the countless civilizations that have risen in Xen’drik and been consumed by the Du’rashka Tul. But it covers a number of arcane civilizations, some long fallen, others still thriving. Likewise, this is a brief overview; it’s up to the DM to expand and add details to if one of these civilizations plays a major role in a campaign.

The Lords of Dust

The overlords of the Age of Demons possessed immense mystical power. They didn’t need SCIENCE to reshape reality; they simply did it intuitively with their own raw power. The same is largely true of their lesser minions. While rakshasa and other fiends often possess supernatural powers, these generally aren’t arcane; they are simply harnessing their own personal power. They’re more like sorcerers than wizards; they don’t need to understand their powers to use them. So it’s a fact that the overlord Katashka created the first (draco)liches through his own transcendent power, but he couldn’t teach mortals how to make liches on their own; they had to discover that over time.

A key element to this is that relics and artifacts of the Age of Demons are immensely powerful but largely can’t be replicated today. This is the origin of the name the Lords of Dust; because the rakshasa themselves dwell in the ruins of their masters’ citadels, and couldn’t repair them even if they wished, because it was the near-divine powers of the overlords that raised them. So magic items tied to the Age of Demons can be extremely powerful—artifacts, legendary, very rare—but there’s little to be gained by studying them, because they weren’t created using scientific principles and can’t be replicated without the power of an unbound overlord. Relics of the Age of Demons are usually tied specifically to the sphere of the overlord they are associated with; Rak Tulkhesh created many horrifying weapons of war, but didn’t create healing potions or things that soothed pain. This is a reason that most spellcasting agents of the overlords are warlocks rather than wizards; they may be granted direct power in exchange for their devotion, but they don’t learn scientific principles.

There are, of course, exceptions, and the most notable of these is Sul Khatesh. Known as the Keeper of Secrets and the Queen of Shadows, Sul Khatesh embodies dangerous secrets and the threat of magic. Sul Khatesh can teach magical secrets to her servants, provided that such secrets are dangerous. It’s worth noting that Sul Khatesh is bound and effectively dreaming. Her Court of Shadows is spread across Khorvaire, but she doesn’t always use it in ways that would seem to maximize its value to her; her actions are essentially reflexive, driven by her own subconscious, a dream that she may forget within an immortal moment. So when Sul Khatesh offers to teach a spell to a wizard in Aundair, you can be sure that the knowledge is dangerous… but that doesn’t mean that the offer is somehow tied to the schemes of the Court of Shadows in Karrnath. Beyond Sul Khatesh herself, her minions possess far greater arcane knowledge than most of the Lords of Dust. The rakshasa Hektula—who calls herself “The First Scribe”, though her enemies called her “The Bloody Scribe” due to her penchant for using the blood of dragons to write her spells—is the keeper of the Library of Ashtakala, and may be the greatest expert on arcane knowledge in existence. It is Hektula and her servants who create new magic items for the Lords of Dust… though largely, Hektula is absorbed with her endless work cataloguing and maintaining the library. Hektula could be an interesting patron for a wizard or artificer; for all her knowledge, Hektula doesn’t possess the mortal ability to innovate, and it could be that she sees a mortal’s potential to develop something entirely new.

The Dragons of Argonnessen

The dragons have been working with magic for a hundred thousand years. They have forgotten secrets lesser civilizations have yet to learn, and they can perform rituals that can devastate continents. In considering draconic magic, there’s a few important things to keep in mind.

The civilization of Argonnessen is based upon the depiction of dragons in the 3.5 rules of D&D, which makes the assertion that every dragon has an inner well of magical power, a force that grows stronger over time. Under the 3.5 rules, a typical gold great wyrm had the spellcasting ability of a 19th level sorcerer—and that’s without adding any class levels. A key consequence of this is that the magic of Argonnessen isn’t directly transferable to other creatures—because rather than harnessing external powers, it begins by drawing on the inner power of the dragon itself.
Like the overlords, this means that the magic items created by dragons usually can’t be reverse engineered by lesser creatures, because you can’t replicate the techniques used to create them unless you actually possess the inner power of a dragon. With that said, unlike the overlords, the dragons do wield their powers in a scientific way, not simply by acting on instinct. They’ve studied and honed their powers, and I would personally say that wild dragons that have grown up without any contact with the civilization of Argonnessen likely wouldn’t possess the full spellcasting abilities described in the 3.5 SRD. They might possess a fraction of those powers, channeling their innate might in very specific ways through insight, but I wouldn’t give them the versatility of an Argonnessen-trained dragon. This is a way to reconcile 3.5 and 5E. The 5E dragons reflect wild dragons either not raised in Argonnessen, or who have consciously refused to develop their powers. The “Dragons as innate spellcasters” option rule can reflect rogues or basic agents of Argonnessen. The true loredrakes of Argonnessen should have powers more on par with those presented in the 3.5 SRD. With this in mind, it’s also worth noting that the oldest dragons presented in 5E are ancient, described as being more than 800 years old; 3.5 has wyrm (1,000+) and great wyrm (1,200+). Again, the easy answer is that the dragons encountered in 5E aren’t the most powerful dragons in existence, and that wyrms and their elders rarely leave Argonnessen. The base stats for 5E dragons aren’t inaccurate, they just don’t show the full spectrum of draconic power.
Many of the greatest powers of the dragons aren’t things that would be represented by a traditional spell. When the dragons laid the Du’rashka Tul upon Xen’drik—a curse that has lingered for tens of thousands of years, disrupting any civilization that grows too large—that wasn’t the work of a single dragon burning a spell slot. It was a ritual that involved MANY dragons working in concert, all lending their immense power to the effort. So the greatest powers wielded by the dragons aren’t spells that can be cast in six seconds; they are rituals and eldritch machines.

Now, the dragons CAN teach magic to lesser creatures, as shown by Vvaraak teaching the Gatekeepers and the dragons sharing knowledge with the giants of Xen’drik. But the point is that in doing this they aren’t teaching the same techniques THEY use, because a giant doesn’t have the innate power of a dragon. Rather, it’s that over the course of eons, the loredrakes of Argonnessen have studying arcane science (and primal magic, as shown by Vvaraak) in depth. Unlike the elves of Aerenal, the dragons aren’t stagnant; they ARE always interested in learning more about how the world works. However, after the disastrous experience with the giants, they have sworn never to share their knowledge with lesser creatures.

The upshot of this is that the dragons of Argonnessen are the most advanced civilization on Eberron and possess immense arcane knowledge. However, they don’t share this knowledge with lesser creatures and they rarely interact with the world beyond Argonnessen. Beyond this, even for dragons, a hundred thousand years is a long time. The dragons could have forgotten or forbidden various magical techniques; adventurers could find the lair of a rogue dragon, now long dead, who’d been working on something forbidden by the Conclave. Likewise, just because the dragons are so advanced and have been studying magic for so long doesn’t prevent a player character from stumbling on something that somehow, no dragon has ever learned. The question is whether the Chamber would take an interest in such a development, or if they would choose not to meddle with humanoid civilization.

The Giants of Xen’drik

Long ago, the dragons of Argonnessen taught the first secrets of magic to the young giants of Xen’drik. Today, this is known as kurash Ourelonastrix (“Aureon’s Folly”), and has resulted in the Conclave of Argonnessen forbidding dragons from sharing knowledge with lesser creatures. But a key point here is that the dragons couldn’t share their full secrets; as noted above, draconic magic draws on the inner power of the dragon. Instead, they taught the giants the basic principles of arcane magic—the fundamental building blocks of artifice and wizardry—and what followed was the result of tens of thousands of years of giant innovation. With that said, the early giants weren’t giants as we know them today. They were highly intelligent, powerful beings—closest to the modern cloud and storm giants, though even more intelligent and advanced. It’s known that their greatest leaders with something even greater—titans, or in 5E terms, empyreans. What’s unclear is whether these empyreans were always empyreans—if they were immortals infused with this power in the first age of the world—or if they were born mortal and somehow attained empyrean power. The latter theory is implied by a number of sources, but as of yet no one has recovered any information about how a giant could become an empyrean—and whether modern giants, or even other humanoids, could make use of these techniques.

The giants were never a single monolithic culture. Beyond that, over the course of tens of thousands of years, many cultures rose and fell within Xen’drik. Three cultures have been called out in canon sources, but keep in mind that this isn’t supposed to be a comprehensive list. These are examples of giant cultures, and perhaps the greatest of them. But it’s possible that there were others before them—and certain that there were others that rose after their fall, only to be destroyed by the Du’rashka Tul.

The Cul’sir Dominion was the largest and most widespread of the giant nations. It’s hard to know the truth about a civilization that fell forty thousand years ago. According to the tales of the elves, the Cul’sir were ruthless tyrants who crushed countless lesser nations (including the feyspire Shae Tirias Tolai) while the recovered accounts of the Cul’sir depict their nation as a utopia that sought to assimilate more primitive nations for their own good. Likewise, it’s still unclear whether the Cul’sir suffered an unprovoked attack from Dal Quor, or whether the titan emperor Cul’sir sought to claim dominion over the Realm of Dreams, setting disastrous retribution in motion. What is known for certain is that the Cul’sir were a disciplined society with a strict social hierarchy and slaves of many species, that they destroyed the moon Crya in their war with the quori and that they were prepared to unleash even greater devastation rather than to allow the elves and other rebel slaves to bring down their empire. Cul’sir wizards and artificers excelled at evocation, conjuration, and enchantment—creating devastating weapons and enforcing their will upon lesser creatures.
The Sulat League was powerful, but less ambitious than the Cul’sir Dominion. Its power was such that the Cul’sir acknowledged the Sulat giants as equals and traded with them, the League doesn’t appear to have sought greater dominion… Though it could be that there were unrecorded conflicts between the two powers that established this detante. The Sulat mages excelled at transmutation and abjuration, and especially elemental binding and magebreeding (here meaning the use of transmutation magic and mundane techniques to change a species in ways that could be passed on to offspring). The Sulat giants are said to have created the drow, and fire giants are also thought to be a devolved legacy of the Sulat League. Any number of monstrosities in Xen’drik could have been created by the magebreeders of the Sulat League.
The Group of Eleven was an alliance of eleven city states, each ruled by an empyrean mage. The Eleven are known to have encouraged competition both within each city-state and between them, though this was a more ritualized and intellectual competition, not bloody warfare; nonetheless, this internal rivalry kept them from seeking power over other nations. The mages of the Eleven studied many branches of arcane science. Over time, each city chose to focus on the study of a single plane; the two that they left out of this efforts were Dal Quor (one reason the Cul’sir took such an interest in it) and Mabar. The Eleven explored the potential of externalist magic, of bargaining with the powers of a plane (though they seem to have had less success at this than the Unspoken of the Qabalrin, described below), and even exploring the planes; there are remnants of an Eleven outpost in the layer of Lamannia known as Titan’s Folly, and the empyrean Il’Ara now dwells in Risia with her subjects and slaves. While the Group of Eleven lacked the expansionist ambition of the Cul’sir Dominion, there’s no question that they did subjugate other species and considered themselves to be superior to other nations; it’s simply that conquest was never their primary goal.

One notable point is that none of these cultures employed necromancy. it could be that they dabbled with it and chose to turn away from it, or it might be that they simply never mastered this field of arcane science. It’s known that the Cul’sir Dominion feared and despised the Qabalrin elves (described later in this article) and that the Qabalrin practice of necromancy was part of this.

In general, the relics of the giants are a powerful draw for explorers and sages. Unlike the tools of the fiends and dragons, the giants relied on scientific principles (albeit arcane science) and as such there’s more that can be learned from their tools and their spells than those of the elder civilizations. However, as noted earlier, this doesn’t mean that it’s a simple matter to simply duplicate a Cul’sir technique or tool; there’s still a vast amount that modern sages have yet to unravel, and there’s a common belief that they may have used some form of dragonshard—either artificially created, or something naturally occurring that has been lost in the intervening millennia—that has yet to be identified. Nonetheless, the ruins of the giants can provide inspiration for modern artificers and wizards… and their artifacts and relics are more plentiful than those of the Age of Demons.

Ancient Sarlona

If you support my Patreon, this article goes into detail about the ancient nations of Sarlona. For the most part, these nations used techniques that are considered primitive today, but they had their own strengths. Here’s a quick overview.

Corvagura was dominated by two lines of sorcerers. The House of the Sun had Thelanian ties and was tied to Wild Magic, fire, and enchantment; the House of the Moon produced Shadow sorcerers who worked with necromancy, though they didn’t animate the dead. Corvagurans relied on innate sorcerous talent rather than understanding the science behind their powers, but it’s possible there are relics in the ruins of Corvagura that can enhance the powers of modern sorcerers.
Ohr Kaluun was dominated by Shadow Lords, who harnessed the powers of Kythri, Mabar, and Xoriat. Thanks to the influence of Kythri, they made countless breakthroughs in arcane science but would rarely maintain or preserve these techniques; thus Kaluunite wizards wielded astonishing powers but rarely passed their knowledge on to future generations. As such, the war mazes of Ohr Kaluun are a possible place to new spells or relics that could potentially be duplicated… but its possible that there’s good reason those relics and secrets were buried.
Khunan developed a strong arcane tradition based in the principles of Externalist magic, drawing on the power of the planes—influence that’s especially strong in that region, because of the wild zones of Sarlona. The Khunan refugees who fled the Sundering discovered that their techniques didn’t work on Khorvaire, and lacked the resources to build a new path to power. However, the ancient wizards accomplished great things, and there may yet be those in Syrkarn who still use their ancient knowledge… Or who have found specific places in Khorvaire where the ancient spells still work.

The Qabalrin

The very existence of the Qabalrin is something hotly contested by modern scholars. Many suggest that the very idea of the Qabalrin—an isolated city-state of elves wielding such vast arcane power that they were feared by the Cul’sir Dominion—is a ludicrous myth, at odds with the proven existence of elf slaves and wild tribes. And if these mighty elves existed, why didn’t they leave a greater mark on the world? Others point to elements of this civilization that have persisted in Aerenal—the calendar known as the “Qabalrin Wheel”, certain techniques used by the line of Vol. The primary source on the Qabalrin is the Ouralon Fragments, a set of damaged Cul’sir spellshards. The Fragments include the following details…

The god Ouralon came to the giants and taught them the secrets of arcane lore.
While the giants stood in Ouralon’s light, his shadow fell across a city of elves. They embraced the Shadow and it taught them vile secrets.
These Qabalrin blotted out the sun above them so that their city would always lie in shadow. Rather than expanding out, they delved down into Khyber.
The Qabalrin practiced dangerous magics forbidden by Ouralon. They broke the laws of life and death and trafficked with fiends. Giant and elf alike feared their magic, but none had the strength to challenge them in battle.
Finally Ouralon himself decided to destroy them. He ripped the heart of Siberys from the Progenitor’s corpse and hurled it at the city of the Qabalrin, utterly destroying the evil elves.

Part of the point of the Qabalrin is that they are essentially unknown—so it’s up to the DM to decide the absolute truth of the legends. Were they an independent civilization that evolved over the course of tens of thousands of years, which would disprove the idea that the elves were created after the Cul’sir Dominion sacked Shae Tirias Tolai? Or might the heart of their great city have been another stranded feyspire, perhaps one that chose to anchor itself to the material plane?

The concrete facts are that the Qabalrin were an isolated nation of elves located in the region of Stormreach now known as the Ring of Storms. They are said to have bargained with the Shadow (which could have been an overlord like Sul Khatesh), and the Qabalrin faction known as the Unspoken had extensive dealings with both native fiends and the denizens of the planes. A second faction, the Shapers of Night, worked with the powers of Mabar to unlock the secrets of necromancy, creating the first vampires. These two factions were rivals; the Unspoken considered the first vampires to be an unforgivable corruption of the elven spirit. Long feuds finally ending in open conflict. The Unspoken sealed the vampire lords of the Shapers of Night in prison tombs… but as they celebrated their victory, the sky began to fall. An early rain of Siberys shards devastated the city, culminating with a massive shard that devastated the region and utterly destroyed the Qabalrin. Before the end, the Unspoken performed an epic ritual that drew the spirits of the Qabalrin from their bodies, binding them together in a well of power not unlike the Silver Flame (on a far smaller scale). This power is the Umbra, the force harnessed by the Umbragen drow.

The upshot of this is that the Qabalrin were almost entirely destroyed, and that the greatest minds among them were either imprisoned in the depths or drawn into the Umbra—so those few who did survive the devastation and fled their home weren’t masters of their society’s great powers. So while it is the case that the Line of Vol had Qabalrin roots, those “roots” were tied to a handful of refugees who had likely been children or servants; the techniques they passed down were the simplest and most basic techniques. With that being said, the first vampires of the Qabalrin are still buried in the Ring of Storms, and one possibility—suggested in some canon sources—is that one or more of these ancient vampires could have been released, and could be influencing or assisting Lady Illmarrow, House Thuranni, or some other force.

In terms of magic, the Shapers of Night were the greatest mortal necromancers ever known. Beyond the initial guidance they received from “the Shadow,” they harnessed the power of Mabar in ways that no-one has managed since, and forged alliances with the dark power known as the Bone King. They crafted eldritch machines, spires that drew the power of Mabar directly into Eberron, draining the life from vast swaths of the Ring of Storms and sacrificing thousands of their own people in their question to master undeath. It is these acts that turned their own against them, and that ultimately resulted in their defeat at the hands of the Unspoken. It’s worth noting that they are primarily celebrated for creating the first VAMPIRES; it’s entirely possible that liches were a later innovation that the line of Vol developed tens of thousands of years later (though it’s also worth noting that the overlord Katashka created the first dracoliches during the Age of Demons)… and possible that the first oathbound (mummies) were actually the product of, say, Ohr Kaluun, meaning that the modern Blood of Vol reflects a blend of many traditions. Likewise, the Qabalrin created the FIRST vampires, but that doesn’t mean that all vampires are tied to the Qabalrin; they were simply the first to do it, but different strains of vampire were created at later times across the world, each with their own particular traits. Nonetheless, the Shapers of Night could be the source of epic necromantic rituals and artifacts, along with magic items that drain life, channel the power of Mabar, or command undead.

The Unspoken were peerless conjurers and abjurers, known for their bargains with fiends and powerful spirits. Their numbers may have included warlocks as well as wizards, but largely they bargained with dark forces as equals as opposed to pledging their services. Their artifacts and relics could be tied to summoning or binding spirits, such as the iron flask, or tied to planar travel, such as dream of the blue veil. Adventurers could encounter spirits bound by the Unspoken, or mighty beings who dealt with them in the distant past. A Qabalrin journal might include secrets about one of the Lords of Dust that could be invaluable to those fighting them. beyond this, the Unspoken still linger in the force known as the Umbra—though this is a gestalt entity, and it’s questionable if the spirits within it still possess any sense of individual identity.

Other Civilizations

Aerenal, the dwarf nation of Sol Udar, the Eternal Dominion of the Sahuagin, and the Empire of Dhakaan are all described in more detail in Exploring Eberron. The next article will explore a number of “primitive” techniques that rose in Khorvaire and are still practiced in places. There are far more—the Umbragen drow, for example—but this is all I have time to cover in this article.

In Conclusion…

Now that we’ve explored the nature of magic and the advantages of the modern style, the next article will look at the specific evolution of arcane science in Khorvaire, including the role of the Dragonmarked Houses, the Arcane Congress, and traditions that were abandoned over the passage of time. Thanks as always to my Patreon supporters, who are the only reason I can afford to spend time writing these articles! In addition, starting in January I’ll be running the first session of my Threshold campaign for Patreon supporters, so if that’s something that’s interesting, check it out!

It’s the last hours of 2020 as I post this, and I do just want to thank all of you for making this a wonderful year for Eberron. It brings me joy to see people building their own adventures within the world, and the ongoing support for Exploring Eberron and for my Patreon—which allows me to spend time on this website—means the world to me. So thanks to you all, and I hope 2021 will bring even more adventures (and, I hope, happier times) for all of us.

Dragonmarks: Arcane Science

Posted on December 5, 2020 by Keith Baker

Arcane magic is a form of science. There are predictable rules that shape reality, and with proper study and force of will, anyone could potentially perform arcane magic. This is what makes arcane magic the foundation of civilization in the Five Nations: it can be taught, and once learned, it is entirely reliable. Arcane magic involves channeling ambient magical energy—the powers of the planes, the emanations of the Ring of Siberys—and focusing it to alter reality. The components of a spell—like verbal incantations, somatic gestures, and focus items—help this process, but the most important element of spellcasting is mental focus. Though a fighter could perfectly duplicate the words and gestures of a wizard, nothing would happen. You must cast the spell in your mind, harnessing and shaping mystical energy, and this is dangerous and exhausting; this is why most spellcasters are limited in how many spells they can cast each day.
Spellcasting using Intelligence is grounded in knowledge and logic. For these characters, casting a spell is like solving an equation—harnessing and carefully channeling the precise quantity of mystical energy required to produce the effect you’re looking for. A wizard may use words of power and mystic gestures to generate power, while an artificer instead relies on tools. But either way, you fundamentally know what you’re doing, which is why both artificers and wizards can prepare new spells each day. Arcane magic is a science, and you’re a scientist.
Exploring Eberron

The idea that arcane magic is a form of science is a fundamental principle of the Eberron campaign setting. It’s something you see in the everyday magic of Khorvaire in 998 YK. We have airships. There are warforged and sending stones. The streets are lit with continual flame. What’s missing is a clear sense of how we got to this point. Imagine that your group of adventurers travels back in time a thousand years and gets caught up in Galifar’s War of Unification. What sort of magic are people using back then? How has magic CHANGED over the course of a thousand years? We’ve called out a few key developments—the first airships went into service in 990 YK, while the first true warforged were developed thirty years ago. What were other key developments? The streets of Galifar are lit with continual flame… But WHEN did that innovation take place, and what were things like before that?

This is an academic discussion, which is why it hasn’t been covered in detail before. What matters most in 998 YK is how things work in 998 YK. If I’m running a modern-day spy thriller I don’t actually NEED to know the history of electric lighting; I just need to know that there is electric lighting. You might decide to do that time travel adventure, but time travel isn’t an integral part of the campaign, and as a general rule we don’t need to know how magic worked a thousand years ago. But it’s still interesting to consider. Beyond that, understanding how magic has evolved helps us to understand how magic can evolve—what we can expect to see in the future. Beyond this, having a clear sense of the state of magic in Khorvaire helps to understand how magic items and spells fit into the game. The rules tell us, for example, that a broom of flying is an ‘uncommon’ item with a flight speed of 50 feet. But they don’t tell us who—if anyone—makes them in Khorvaire or if they need to look like brooms. Even ‘uncommon’ is primarily a description of how powerful the item is and how expensive it should be, if it can even be purchased; it’s up to us to decide if it’s actually uncommon or if it even exists in the world. People often ask me how to add creatures to the world—Where do tabaxi fit into Eberron? How would you add Illumians?—the exact same principle applies to magic items and spells. The fact that we we have rules for something simply means that we COULD use it in the world; it doesn’t mean that it has to be here.

This is a big topic and it’s going to take three articles to cover it. This article is the most abstract, examining the theory of arcane magic within the world. Later in the month, I’ll write about arcane industry—both the role of magic in general industry, and the industry of magic and magic items. The final article will look at the history of magic in Khorvaire, considering how we got to where we are today and where we could go from here. As always, these articles are kanon—what I’m doing do at MY table, regardless of what’s said or not said in an official book. It’s entirely possible something I say here will contradict some aspect of Magic of Eberron, or something you’ve established in your own campaign, and that’s fine in both cases. Eberron lore is intended to be a source of inspiration, not something that limits you; use what’s inspiring, change what gets in the way.

Threshold’s Wandslinger by Julio Azevedo

Principles of Arcane Science

Arcane magic involves the manipulation of vast, ambient mystical energies that permeate Eberron. These forces are largely omnipresent and invisible, not unlike gravity; they’re fundamental elements of the world, and in the course of time most cultures find some way to harness and manipulate them. Like most forms of science, there are different theories about how this science works, and specifically what force is being manipulated.

SIBERYAN THEORY

Siberyan theory is the dominant arcane tradition of the Five Nations. This asserts that arcane magic taps energies that flow from the Ring of Siberys. This power—sometimes called the blood of Siberys—is the same fundamental force the Progenitors used to shape reality; arcane magic essentially reshapes reality to produce the desired result. Certainly, the blood of Siberys can be used to create a fireball; once upon a time, that same power was used to create THE SUN.

Siberyan magic is in some ways the most scientific approach to magic, and can in a sense be seen as analogous to programming; the wizard is rewriting the code that defines reality. Its invocations are words of power that activate specific energies—fire, vast, distance—while its gestures shape and focus those energies. But ultimately, the forces flow through the spellcaster and it is a mental exertion—both intense calculations and an exertion of will—that generates the change. This explains the various limitations of a wizard, both spell slots and spell level. A wizard can look at a spellbook and understand the theory behind a higher level spell. They can gather the right materials, make the appropriate gestures, say the right words. But if they don’t have enough experience and talent, they can’t perform the mental work required; they understand the concept but they can’t do the work required to produce the result. Meanwhile, spell slots reflect the mental and physical toll of spellcasting. While there is no other effect—spellcasters don’t gain levels of exhaustion from casting spells—the idea is that channeling arcane power takes a toll, and their comes a point where you just don’t have it in you to grasp and shape that power. If your spellcaster is completely out of spell slots, you don’t suffer any penalties, but it still means that you are spent, and that’s something you could choose to work into your roleplaying.

Siberyan theory is the most widespread form of magic, used across the Five Nations and in Aerenal. However, it’s a broad field of magic and there are different techniques within it. The wizards of Aerenal and those of Arcanix both use verbal components that invoke the same, fundamental words of power. However, the Aereni techniques are highly formalized and precise—it’s a highly effective technique, but it takes decades to master. Since most humans don’t have decades, Arcanix helps students develop idiosyncratic techniques—to figure out what resonates with them. This works, but the Aereni find it disturbingly sloppy and haphazard.

The commonly accepted theory is that arcane energy—”the blood of Siberys”—was part of the Progenitors. According to the primal myths, the Ring of Siberys IS Siberys; this energy is simply the residual primordial power of a cosmic entity. This is supported by the fact that siberys dragonshards are highly effective at focusing arcane energies. Many spellcasting focuses use siberys shards in some way; the crystal is obvious, but a staff may have an embedded dragonshard sliver that helps focus power. However, there is an academic faction that asserts that there is no reason to believe that the Progenitors were cosmic dragons or even immortal. These sages believe that the Ring of Siberys might have predated the Progenitors, and that they could have been a trio of mortal wizards of exceptional skill—wizards who used the same basic principles a modern wizard uses to create a fireball to shape a sun. Those who follow this path generally assert that the Sovereigns were either remarkable mortals or that they were simply immortal entities—like the celestials and fiends—created by the mortal Progenitors as part of their vast work. These scholars believe that this shows the limitless potential of arcane magic—that wizards who unlock its greatest secrets could create new worlds or even shape planes of existence.

Siberyan verbal components are grounded in the Draconic language, though there is more to a verbal component than simply speaking in Draconic; ultimately it is about the invocation of words of power that aren’t used in everyday speech. A wizard doesn’t have to understand Draconic to perform magic, but it helps provided deeper insight into the workings of a particular spell.

EXTERNALISTS

The energy of the planes permeates Eberron, and Externalist wizards shape their spells by drawing on this power. Where a Siberyan harnesses ambient energy and shapes that into fire, an Externalist draws primal fire directly from Fernia. The elements of this magic—the components—are similar to those used in Siberyan magic. Words of power summon specific energies and eldritch gestures help to shape those forces, and ultimately it is the mind of the wizard that weaves these elements together and channels the power. But the Externalist asserts that the most effective source of power isn’t the blood of Siberys; it is the energy of the planes.

Primitive Externalist techniques require a direct connection to the planes. Such magic can only be performed in or near a manifest zone or during a coterminous period. This is an important factor in the overall dominance of Siberyan magic; the people of Sarlona discovering that their spells no longer worked in new lands, and developing new approaches. However, the energies of the planes do permeate the world, albeit to a lesser degree… and more important, creatures are themselves tied to the planes. This is most clearly demonstrated when a mortal creature dreams—passing along its innate connection to Dal Quor—but can also be seen in the conscripts of Shavarath and the shadows of Mabar, echoes of mortals in the planes. So sophisticated Externalist wizards don’t require access to manifest zones or gain additional benefits from them (aside from whatever benefit the zone provides to all spellcasters); it’s primarily an academic point that the energy is flowing from an extraplanar source.

Externalist verbal components draw on elements of planar languages; depending on the power being shaped, it could use root syllables from Primordial, Celestial, Abyssal, or even Quori. As with Siberyan theory and Draconic, the spellcaster doesn’t have to understand these languages.

SYMPATHETIC MAGIC

This arcane theory maintains that an effect produced can be magnified; to create a fireball, burn a ball of flammable guano. A secondary aspect is the idea things that have once been in contact maintain a connection—a leaf is still connected to a tree, a lock of hair is still connected to the creature it came from—and magic can flow along this connection. Sympathetic magic still relies on words of power for its verbal components, but its material and somatic components are often quite different from the preceding techniques; rather than tracing sigils in the air, a sympathist wizard might light a match to produce a fire bolt, or plunge a needle into a wax figure to cast crown of madness.

Sympathetic magic isn’t taught at Arcanix. It’s generally seen as a primitive form of Siberyan magic—that the wizard is channeling the Siberyan energy, but using the sympathetic focus as an alternative to the more complex Siberyan techniques. This is effective, but not as versatile; it relies on the ability to create a sympathetic construct of the desired result. As a result, sympathetic magic is often found used by self-taught “hedge mages” or clans or tribes that have stumbled onto these techniques in isolation. Again, they are effective, but practitioners may be limited in their range of spells or ability to incorporate new ideas.

A second form of sympathetic magic is tied to the magical thinking approach to artifice mentioned in Exploring Eberron. Rather than being a different approach to Siberyan magic, magical thinking is actually a form of Externalist magic that draws on the power of Thelanis to temporarily enforce fey logic on reality. The main thing is that this is more often associated with warlocks and sorcerers than with wizards. As a warlock or sorcerer, a character knows a specific trick that always works. A wizard has the ability to change out their spells and to learn from other wizards. Does that seem plausible with this character? Or would they be better represented as a warlock?

Verbal components in sympathetic magic vary based on the powers being wielded. A fundamentally Siberyan approach may use Draconic syllables, even if the caster has just stumbled upon the sounds that produce effective results. Magical thinking could use Sylvan phrases. On the other hand, sympathetic magic can also involve a chant or a poem describing the desired outcome; essentially, it’s a longer and less efficient process that combining three syllables of power, but it’s something someone can stumble onto even when they don’t know those syllables of power.

DOMINION THEORY

Dominion theory walks the line between arcane and divine magic. It has some broad overlap with Siberyan magic, using word and gesture to channel ambient arcane power. However, it asserts that all magic flows directly from the Sovereigns. It is still approached in a scientific manner; the difference between the Vassal cleric and the Dominion wizard is that the cleric asks the Sovereigns to grant a miracle, while the wizard employs formulas that let them draw on the fires of Onatar’s forge or Aureon’s law. The Dominion wizard doesn’t need faith in the same way that a cleric does, which is why their spells are cast using Intelligence instead of Wisdom. But if they see arcane magic as manipulating the pieces of a great machine, they believe that the Sovereigns ARE that machine, and their verbal components generally invoke one or more of the Sovereigns by name. So they don’t REQUIRE faith—but they still have it.

Dominion theorists can be found in the Five Nations, even in Arcanix. However, this theory is usually dismissed as superstition by both Siberyan mages, who say that Dominion spellcasters are simply drawing on Siberyan power and adding unnecessary ritual. While the Sovereign Host is the dominant faith of the Five Nations, the standard vassal tradition incorporates the myth of the Progenitors. Siberyan vassals believe that Aureon (or the Shadow) guides those who use magic, but that Aureon isn’t actually the SOURCE of magic… That Aureon can show the wizard how to create fire with a spell, but that the fire isn’t drawn directly from Onatar’s forge. So many wizards are also faithful vassals; Dominion theory is an unusual extreme.

OTHER TRADITIONS

Siberyan theory is the dominant tradition of the Five Nations. Externalism has significant support and is a respected tradition. Sympathetic and Dominion techniques are fringe techniques, more often found in isolation. But there are many other theories. Here’s just a few…

Consensualists say that belief is the source of arcane magic; like Dominion wizards they manipulate that power in a scientific fashion, but they maintain that magic works as it does because people believe in that system—and that it’s possible that a paradigm shift in belief could completely change the laws of magic.
Pact magic is an offshoot of Externalism, drawing power not from a plane, but rather from a specific entity (such as an archfey or an overlord). Typically this is associated with warlocks, who are granted the ability to cast specific spells; but it’s possible that a powerful entity could grant a wizard more general access to their power. Like Dominion wizards, Pact wizards will generally call out the source of their power in their invocations.
Animists work with spirits, often fey, elementals, or ghosts; an animist might have a minor fire elemental that manifests when called on in the form of fire bolt or burning hands. However, animists are often sorcerers as opposed to wizards; again, the question is whether the animist with burning hands can swap that out for a new spell, or if they only know a few tricks—whether they are using science, or whether they’ve just made friends with an elemental.
Prophets are one of the most obscure traditions; they maintain that the Draconic Prophecy is essentially the source code of reality, and while they may not be able to see the big picture they can effect immediate changes by effectively rewriting the present. Again, this is a very rare path well suited to the Scribe wizard presented in Tasha’s Cauldron of Everything. If a DM introduces this into a campaign, they’ll need to decide if this form of magic is despised by the Chamber, who see Prophets as parasites on the Prophecy—or whether, in fact, the Chamber CREATED this style of magic and teaches it to their agents.
Silver Pyromancers fall between Dominion Theory and Externalists. They draw their arcane power from the concrete source of the Silver Flame, but this isn’t an easy thing to do. The Flame responds more easily to the draw of faith than to scientific manipulation, and Silver Pyromancers generally need both; they manipulate the Flame using scientific principles, but it is still their faith that allows them to grasp the power to begin with.

Most “respectable” arcane scholars focus on the ultimate source of power—as such, sympathetic magic is generally seen as a Siberyan technique, while magical thinking is Externalist.

WHAT DOES THIS ALL MEAN?

All of this may sound interesting, but what does it actually mean? What difference does it make whether YOUR wizard is a Siberyan or an Externalist? At the end of the day, not much. These aren’t class archetypes; you can be an evoker or an illusionist regardless of whether you’re relying on Dominion Theory or Siberyan. More important, under the core, basic rules your Siberyan wizard can copy a spell from the spellbook of a Dominion wizard; you’re able to adapt the principles of their spell to your preferred style of magic.

However, there’s a number of important things to consider here. The first is that it’s always been a basic, core principle of Eberron that player characters are remarkable and that most NPCs don’t have the abilities of player characters. Most arcane spellcasters aren’t wizards; they are variations of magewright. I’ll talk more about this below, but the key principle of this is that just because your player character can copy a spell from an NPC’s spellbook doesn’t mean that an NPC can. Most magewrights don’t even USE spellbooks; they spend years learning to cast a single ritual. The idea that a PC wizard can just grab someone’s spellbook and say “Mmhhm, mhhm, I see what you’re doing there, yes, I can do that” is supposed to reflect an exceptional aptitude for arcane science. So with that in mind…

A PLAYER CHARACTER who sees themselves as an Externalist may be able to scribe a Siberyan spell, because again, they’re so sharp they can just translate it to their style of magic. But an NPC Sibeyrian mage may not be able to copy any spells from the PC’s spellbook; it’s another style of magic. If a DM wants to add more weight to this, they could require the PC to make an Intelligence (Arcana) check (say, DC 8 + twice the spell’s level) to convert it; if they fail the check they need to keep studying, and can try to scribe it again after completing a long rest.
The above principle ties to the basic idea that when dealing with NPCs who DO have spellbooks, an NPC wizard might have a narrow focus. The Sulatar drow wizard may have spells entirely related to fire. In THEORY they could learn a spell that generates cold damage, and in theory a Sulatar could become a diviner; but in practice they’re almost always evokers and conjurers and they’ve never developed any spells associated with cold.
A DM may decide that non-player characters require spellcasting focuses to perform their magic—that a particular Siberyan NPC can’t cast spells unless they have a Siberys crystal focus, or that a Sympathetic wizard needs their component pouch to perform magic. A wandslinger may need a wand to perform a cantrip.
Likewise, while an Externalist or Sympathetic wizard PC can learn any spell and cast anywhere, a DM could say that an Externalist NPC can’t cast spells beyond their particular sphere of influence or that a Sympathetic wizard can’t cast spells unless they’ve met certain sympathetic conditions. For example, you could have a powerful sympathetic NPC mage who can cast bane, bestow curse, or dominate monster… but only if they have a hair, tooth, or nail from their target. PLAYER CHARACTERS are remarkable and can overcome these limitations. But NPCs may be working with more limited or primitive traditions and deal with limitations player characters don’t have.
The flip side of this, of course, is that NPCs may be able to produce effects player characters can’t, precisely because they are deeply specialized. In Rising From The Last War we mention that a magewright oracle may be able to cast a form of augury that can look a week into the future. Perhaps the sympathist needs a lock of hair from their victim… but can cast bestow curse on that victim from across town. Again, this plays to the idea that player characters are incredibly flexible—but that NPCs may be deeply specialized in ways that PCs just don’t have the time to master.

So the main point is that “Siberyan” and “Externalist” aren’t concepts that have a concrete mechanical effect. They’re things that can add flavor to a story—whether a wizard calls out the Draconic name of fire and trace a sigil in the air when they cast fire bolt, or whether they strike a match and command their victim to burn! You don’t HAVE to do anything with any of this; it all means exactly as much—or as little—as you want it to.

Wizards and Artificers, Magewrights and Wandslingers

The idea of “Arcane Science” primarily applies to wizards and artificers: Intelligence-based spellcasters whose flexibility reflects their ability to apply scientific principles in new ways. Sorcerers and warlocks may manipulate the same forms of energy, but at the end of the the day they don’t truly understand what they’re doing and are limited in the effects they can produce. A sorcerer has an innate aptitude for specific effects, while a warlock is either taught specific spells or granted supernatural powers by their patron; but two warlocks can’t trade spellbooks and learn each other’s spells. Given that, let’s take a look at the different characters who do use these scientific techniques.

WIZARDS

Whatever your preferred source, the fact of the matter is that there is an invisible, fundamental force that suffuses Eberron—a power that can be harnessed to reshape reality. A sailor harnesses the wind and water. A smith works with earth and fire. As a wizard you channel the fifth element, bending reality to your will.

The basic point of Eberron is that the people of Khorvaire know this power exists and have harnessed it to help in their everyday lives. But most people can’t master more than a few spells. It takes years for a magewright to learn the spells that define their trade; the arcane locksmith can’t just spend an evening reading a book and wake up as a lamplighter. At the end of the day, this is because the magewright has only learned how to cast their few spells; they don’t truly understand the deep principles beneath them. It is this deeper understanding combined with remarkable talent that gives a wizard their full flexibility. A magewright has learned to play a few songs on the piano; a wizard is Mozart or Beethoven, able to envision new symphonies.

With that said, perhaps that’s not how you see your character… and that’s fine. As a wizard you possess talents and flexibility other spellcasters don’t… but that doesn’t mean you fully appreciate your own talent. And let’s face it, at first level you ARE quite limited in your capabilities. It’s remarkable that you CAN copy any spell from a spellbook you find, but at the moment you can only CAST first level spells, and you haven’t found a how lot of spellbooks. So perhaps your evoker operated arcane artillery in the war, or your diviner planned to make a living as an oracle. Here we even hit the limits of the wizard: Magewrights lack flexibility, but they are very good at those few things they do. As a player character, your diviner wizard isn’t quite as good at augury as the magewright oracle; you just can’t seem to push beyond that 30 minute window. So your character could even see themselves as a failure… because you haven’t yet had the experiences that will reveal your amazing potential.

So that’s certainly something to consider in making your wizard. Do you know you’re better than a magewright, or will you be surprised by your limitless potential? Do you believe that you’re a prodigy, or did you expect to be a simple magewright? Do you love exploring the mysteries of arcane science… or is it just that you happen to be remarkably gifted, though you yourself don’t really appreciate how gifted you are? Here’s a few ways to approach a wizard…

The Wandslinger. You are an arcane engine of destruction. You take pride in your ability to wield fire and lightning, and you may be as aggressive as any fighter; after all, they can only wield steel, while you have a weapon with unlimited potential. A wandslinging wizard could have the soldier background reflecting a distinguished military career even before unlocking your true power.
The Scholar. It could be that you love the idea of magic and you’re fascinated with its potential, but you never particularly expected to, you know, USE IT to blast enemies with fire. This is a way to reflect an older, experienced character starting at first level: you may have been STUDYING magic for decades, but you never actually used it it battle until now and you’re only just learning how to put your abstract knowledge to practical use. So where the Wandslinger struts and is proud of their power, the Scholar might actually be continuously surprised and delighted when they cast a new spell for the first time or defeat an enemy. Sage is a logical background for such a character, but guild artisan also makes sense for the wage mage who thought they were going to be a simple magewright.
The Artist. Magic is an invisible force with limitless potential. The Wandslinger sees it as a weapon. The Scholar recognizes it as an invaluable tool. The Artist sees that it is beautiful. They see the wonder of magic, and take joy in the casting of a spell as another might delight in a dance. It could be that the Artist actually seeks to use their magic to entertain; an Illusionist with the entertainer background may already have a following for their remarkable performances (and may have ties to House Phiarlan). Or it could be that they’ve used their magic in battle, but they still delight in the artistry of it; this is a possible path for a Bladesinger. The key point with the Artist is that they may understand the science of magic—but they still take joy in the wonder of it.
The Acolyte. Dominion theory teaches that arcane magic is Aureon’s gift. The Acolyte understands the science of it, and they work their wonders with intellect rather than with the sheer force of their faith. But they still believe that the powers they wield are both a gift of the Sovereigns and evidence of their benevolence, and they seek to use these powers as a true servant of the Sovereigns: protecting the weak in Boldrei’s name, enforcing Aureon’s laws, and bringing the light of Dol Arrah to the darkness. Alternately, you could be a Silver Pyromancer, using your faith to weave spells from the Silver Flame. Either way, this is a path for an acolyte or hermit.

ARTIFICERS

Magic is an invisible force that’s all around us. A wizard grasps the power directly, binding it with word and gesture. But it takes deep training even to become a magewright, let alone a wizard… and that’s why we have magic items, tools that can allow anyone to benefit from the power of magic. And a world that relies on magic items needs people to create and repair them—engineers and inventors, the people who develop and maintain the infrastructure that drives modern civilization.

A central difference between an artificer and a wizard is that the artificer uses tools. They use tools both to produce magical effects, and also imbue tools with magical power. The wizard molds magic with word and gesture alone; the artificer creates a wand or potion. Part of the point is that that as a player character, an artificer is capable of jury-rigging temporary versions of the reliable tools we see every day. A wand or a potion is a completed, stable tool. But when an Alchemist artificer uses their alchemist’s tools to cast fire bolt, they may be whipping up an instant, unstable potion. An Artillerist essentially creates a temporary wand, something that only works for them. So in the Artillerist we see the science of the wand at work, and in the alchemist we see the potion. One path of established arcane science that doesn’t yet have an archetype is that of sigilry, the science of scrolls. This is what you see in an artificer who uses calligrapher’s tools as a spellcasting focus; their spells are produced by enscribing mystic symbols, it’s just that it takes more effort to stabilize that power into the final form of a spell scroll.

Page 29 of Exploring Eberron discusses a few traditions of artifice, and these overlap with the broader arcane theories. Cannith Traditional is essentially Siberyan theory: a set of established principles, creating items that draw on the ambient energy of the Ring of Siberys. Planar Influences relates to the Externalist Theory, while Magical Thinking is likely drawing specifically on Xoriat, Thelanis, or perhaps Dal Quor. An Actual Science artificer may be pioneering something entirely new. And this ties to the same point as the wizard: as a player character, an artificer is remarkable. NPCs who perform artifice are functionally magewrights: they may be able to create a specific type of potion or maintain cleansing stones. The Cannith tinker can perform magecraft and mending. But as an artificer you’re not just a a magical electrician: you’re Tesla, or Tony Stark. You are brilliant and unorthodox, and the methods you use—whether you’re creating a temporary infusion or a permanent item, whether or not you recognize your full talent and potential—are a product of your own unique genius. I’ll talk more about this in the discussion of Arcane Industry, but the crucial point is that just because your artificer can do something doesn’t mean that normal people can do it, or that your techniques could be translated to mass production. You’re the genius in your garage, making a working palantir out of coconuts and lint; it MIGHT be possible to translate that idea into a viable product, but it’s not a trivial thing.

Exploring Eberron examines different possible paths for artificer characters, so you can find more ideas there.

MAGES, MAGEWRIGHTS, AND ARTIFICERS

What we’ve said from the start is that most spellcasters aren’t wizards and clerics—they’re magewrights and adepts. The idea of arcane science is that it IS A SCIENCE. It’s a rational, reliable tool, which means that anyone has the potential to master it with sufficient time and training. But that doesn’t mean that anyone can become a wizard or an artificer. Anyone can learn to play the piano, but not everyone can be Mozart. Magewrights devote themselves to mastering specific spells. This devotion pays off in various ways. Magewrights don’t need spellbooks. They cast spells as rituals, even spells that don’t normally have the ritual tag; the drawback is that aside from cantrips, they can ONLY cast spells as rituals. And, as noted, they may be able to cast enhanced versions of spells, such as the augury that can predict events farther in advance. The player character wizards is a brilliant jack of all trades; the magewright is a master of a very specific set of skills.

The NPC wandslinger falls into a similar mold. A typical wandslinger essentially has the benefits of the Magic Initiate feat: they know a few cantrips—usually combat-oriented—and may be able to cast one or two low-level spells on top of that, surprising an opponent with burning hands or a shield. Generally, an NPC wandslinger needs an arcane focus to cast spells or cantrips; again, they are more limited than PCs. This training and techniques have become more common in the wake of the Last War, but they are still more limited than player characters.

But what about NPCs who ARE better than wandslingers or magewrights? What’s the point of a wizard being able to copy new spells from a spellbook if NPCs don’t use spellbooks? First of all, just because MOST NPCs don’t have the power of a player character doesn’t mean that NONE do. The Monster Manual and Volo’s Guide has stat blocks for NPCs with full caster abilities. The point is simply that anyone who has the full abilities of a PC is a remarkable individual. Such people make worthy rivals and foes for PCs; the point is just to recognize that they, too, are remarkable, not common.

And finally there is room for that middle ground: People who have powers far beyond the typical magewright, but who don’t have the full capabilities of a PC class. A professor at Arcanix may have the ability to cast cloudkill. Another may be able to cast summon fiend—but only as a ritual, and with a far greater component cost. Even looking to the NPC caster blocks, you might say that there’s an NPC evoker, and that they do prepare spells from a spellbook—but that, like the Sulatar I mentioned before, they can’t prepare spells that deal with cold or lightning. They have many of the abilities of a PC, but they are still fundamentally limited; they don’t have the flexibility or broad genius of a player character. In my campaign, I call such characters mages. They can have significant POWER, and may actually be able to do things PCs can’t—but they still don’t have the full flexibility of a wizard or artificer.

Q&A

Why is Siberyan Theory the dominant theory? Wouldn’t Aerenal or Karrnath rely on Externalist magic because of their use of Irian or Mabaran manifest zones?

There’s a few things to consider here. The first is that many arcane traditions evolve in isolation. Externalist magic is easier than Siberyan magic if you’re drawing on one specific form of magic. So for example, there were SURELY Externalist necromancers in pre-Galifar Karrnath, because all that Mabaran power is right their waiting to be used. The problem is that you can’t use that Mabaran energy to light a fire or to generate light at all… And further, if you’ve based your system of magic off easy access to that manifest zone, when you go somewhere else you suddenly don’t have that power and your magic doesn’t work. Siberyan energy is universal—it pervades Eberron—and can be used to produce any sort of effect, whether it’s animating the dead, creating a fireball, or generating light. So essentially, it is more reliable and versatile, and thus more widespread. Now, what I’ve suggested is that if you want to PLAY an Externalist wizard, you can say that you’re using more advanced Externalist techniques that draw on residual planar energies or on your personal connection to a plane and thus you don’t lose your magic when you’re not by a manifest zone. But the point is that the more basic forms of Externalist magic DO have those limitations, while Siberyan magic doesn’t.

However, there’s a second point: manifest zones don’t care what kind of magic you’re using. As called out in Exploring Eberron, many manifest zones enhance a particular form of magic. It’s easier to animate the dead in a Mabaran manifest zone, regardless of whether you’re a wizard, a sorcerer, or a cleric. An Externalist draws ALL of their power from the planes; but a Siberyan wizard—or a divine spellcaster, or a warlock—will all still find their abilities enhanced by the energies of the manifest zone. So looking to Aerenal, their overall tradition of magic is Siberyan, but their traditions are also tied to unique rituals that are only possible because of the Irian zones. Their tradition isn’t based on Irian; it just incorporates it. Likewise, modern Karrnathi necromancers rely on Mabaran manifest zones and have created rituals that can only be performed in those zones, but that doesn’t mean that their overall tradition is Externalist; it’s largely Siberyan, with certain rituals that rely on an additional infusion of Mabaran energy.

That’s all for now, and again: this is what I do in my campaign, and if you don’t like it, don’t use it! Arcane Industry and Arcane History will come later in the month. And thank you as always to my Patreon supporters, who chose this topic: articles like this take a lot of time, and I simply couldn’t afford to spend that much time on this without your support. The Wandslinger image above is one of the player characters in my Threshold campaign, which will be starting later this month; thanks against to those of you who have been supporting and participating in that!

Dragonmark: Flight in Eberron

Posted on November 19, 2020 by Keith Baker

My Patreon supporters have chosen Arcane Science and Industry as the topic of the month. I’ll be writing a more extensive article on the topic later in the month, but now I want to address questions on a related topic: The role of flight. Before I go any further, I’ll note that you can find more of my thoughts on airships in this article, and that the 3.5 sourcebook Explorer’s Handbook is the primary canonical source. With that said…

Outside of the skycoaches of Sharn, how prevalent are airships in the other nations? Were they used in the last war? Are there nations with growing fleets of them? Do the goblins of Darguun have any?

One of the basic principles of Eberron is that arcane magic is a form of science, and that like any science, it evolves as people unlock its secrets. The idea was always that there should be a sense of evolution. In particular, the Last War drove a number of arcane breakthroughs: warforged, wandslingers, and airships. According to the timeline in the original Eberron Campaign Setting, the first airships went into service for House Lyrandar in 990 YK—less than ten years ago. In addition, Lyrandar airships are the only form of airship currently in mass production and they require a Lyrandar pilot to reliably control the elemental. The point of this is that air travel is a very recent development and it is dominated by House Lyrandar. So at the moment, NATIONS don’t have significant numbers of airships; LYRANDAR has them, and even it doesn’t have very many. Only major cities have the docking towers required by Lyrandar airships; combined with the relatively small fleet, this is why airships haven’t completely overshadowed the lightning rail.

It’s quite possible that the King’s Citadel of Breland has an airship produced in secret and piloted by a Lyrandar excoriate, or that Aundair has been working on an airship that doesn’t require a Lyrandar pilot. But no nation has fleets of airships, definitely not the Darguuls. Likewise, there were a few Lyrandar airships that were designed for military service—the Stormships”—but they played a very small role in the war, appearing only at the very end of it.

So the science behind the airship has been established, and from this point going forward airships will play an increasingly significant role. But for now they are still few in number and rely on House Lyrandar… and House Lyrandar would like to keep it that way. The point is that ongoing developments with airships can be an important plot point of a campaign. IF the Darguuls somehow start producing a fleet of airships, that would be a major mystery—how are they doing it? What do they plan to do with them?—that could be an important plot point.

As the skycoaches of Sharn were mentioned, it’s important to remember that skycoaches are nearly unique to Sharn; they rely on the magical effects of the manifest zone surrounding Sharn, and will crash if they’re taken more than a few miles from the city. You could find skycoaches in other cities in similar manifest zones, but you couldn’t fly a skycoach between those two points.

With all of that said: airships are a new development. Aerial combat is not. Galifar the Dark—the third ruler of the united Galifar—is said to have created the Race of Eight Winds as a way to test various aerial mounts, and the skyblade tournaments of Sharn likewise are a reflection of a traditional of aerial combat. But this is a tradition of mounted combat—not large vessels such as the modern airship. More on that later.

What sort of flying magical items do you see across Khorvaire? Brooms exist as D&D canon, but it seems like different countries would have different sorts of flying apparatuses.

First, let’s review my previous discussion of the broom of flying.

By the rules of Fifth Edition, a broom of flying is an extremely useful item. It’s an uncommon magic item, putting it within the range of Khorvaire’s wide magic. Unlike wings of flying, there’s no time limit on the use of the item, and critically, it doesn’t even require attunement. What’s been suggested is that Aundair used these for elite units and that other nations developed them in smaller quantities—so they aren’t commonplace in civilian life, but they are in the world.
With this in mind, the first question I’d ask is are they brooms? While the core magic item is a broom, I see no logical reason that they should be actual brooms in Eberron; remove the mythology of Earth and there’s no particular reason a broom is associated with flight. So I’d actually call them skystaffs. Keep the same essential shape—a short wooden haft—but remove the bristles, add a seat, and perhaps handles that fold out from the shaft. Essentially, make it a tool clearly designed for its function as opposed to a household item that does something unexpected. I’d then say that while anyone can use one, they require Dexterity checks for tight maneuvers or sustained balance at full speed, unless the rider has proficiency in air vehicles—so anyone CAN use one, but it requires some training to actually use one effectively. As a final element, I’d say that a skystaff is made using soarwood, which is a crucial factor in why there aren’t more of them in service at the moment. The enchantment isn’t that difficult—again, “uncommon” level in terms of its power—but the actual components required to create one are in limited supply, so there aren’t that many around. Having said that, they are most often seen in Aundair, and you’ll certainly see a few in the skies above Fairhaven or darting around Arcanix.

This further reflects the idea that Aundair is the most mystically advanced nation. The aerial cavalry of the Five Nations has relied on hippogriffs for centuries; Aundair’s introduction of the skystaff was an early innovation in the war, and they became more common as the conflict continued. So more on that later, but in my opinion the skystaff was introduced early in the Last War. It predates the airship, but only by a century. The advantages of the skystaff are that it’s very portable. As it doesn’t have to eat or breathe, you can keep a skystaff in a bag of holding indefinitely, making it an excellent tool for covert operatives. But with a top speed of 50 ft, it’s slower than a hippogriff (60 ft) and considerably slower than a pegasus (90 ft).

Another uncommon form of flight is winged boots. In my opinion these predate the skystaff (in Khorvaire) by a few centuries. They were first created in Sharn by artificers experimenting with the property of the manifest zone, and these early models only worked in Sharn. However, by 812 YK an artificer had developed winged boots that could be used beyond the City of Towers. Because the boots are limited to the wearer’s walking speed and can only be used for up to four hours, they are more limited than flying mounts and aren’t widespread. They’re typically found in Breland, as they’re still most often used in Sharn—but all of the spy agencies of Khorvaire make use of them, along with some elite commandos and thieves.

Other magical tools of flight are more exotic. The cloak of the bat and wings of flying are rare items, which means that they CAN be found in the Five Nations but that they’re rare and unusual. A few stories I could see for such items:

The Narathun flesh-crafters of the Mror Holds have created a form of wings of flying with the symbiont quality—a living creature that bonds to the body of the wearer. They’ve only produced a few so far.
The Seeker spy organization known as the Raven Corps had an elite unit outfitted with cloaks of the bat when they served Karrnath during the Last War. A person attuned to such a cloak must expend 1 hit die after completing long rest, as the cloak drains a bit of their blood.
The Church of the Silver Flame has an elite order of templars who wear cloaks of flying that transform into the rainbow wings of a couatl. These are driven by faith as opposed to arcane magic, and only people with great faith in the Flame can attune to them.
Druidic magic can create wings of flying that use the principles of wild shape. Rather than being cloaks, these are often torcs or necklaces; the wings sprout from the back of the bearer. There’s a Tairnadal ancestor whose revenants employ such tools, and a unit of the Wardens of the Wood—the Gray Owls—who use these tools.
Thelanis can be the source of any sort of flight magic, from wings of flying to winged boots. Each such item has its own unique story. One pair of Thelanian boots might be birds turned into boots, that still sing when they’re happy; another might be a pair of boots without wings, that allow the bearer to walk on sunbeams or shadows.
Other forms of flight items could be found that have limitations. House Lyrandar could have cleared a form of wings of flying that harnesses a minor elemental for lift, but that can only be attuned by someone with the Mark of Storm; another cloak might only work in a particular manifest zone, just like the skycoaches of Sharn.

The main point is that these items are rare and unusual but can be found in the Five Nations, and there were a few elite units in the Last War that employed them.

As very rare items, carpets of flying are not commonly found in the Five Nations. When encountered, these may be the product of more advanced civilizations (Aerenal, Argonnessen, the Lords of Dust), or be extraplanar in origin (Syrania, Thelanis).

Keep in mind also that feather tokens are actually common items. Paratroopers weren’t that common for most of the war because hippogriffs can’t carry many people. But Thrane certainly delivered paratroopers by wyvern, and later in the war airships could carry paratroopers with feather tokens.

What sort of air forces did each nation deploy during the Last War?

At the beginning of the war, the standard aerial cavalry of Galifar was the hippogriff rider. There were a few other forces based on local traditions, notably the dragonhawks of Aundair and the wyverns of Thrane, but the hippogriff was the mainstay of aerial combat. Such hippogriffs were primarily used as scouts and skirmishers, and there had never been an effort to field a mass aerial force. Each nation followed different paths during the war.

Aundair had three distinctive elements: dragonhawks, skystaffs, and floating citadels.

Aundair developed skystaffs at the start of the Last War. While other nations replicated them over the course of the war, Aundair has always had the most significant number of them. The skystaff has the advantage of not being alive, thus removing the complications associated with maintaining a living mount.
The dragonhawk is the symbol of Aundair. Larger, faster, and more powerful than hippogriffs, the primary limitation of the dragonhawks is their slow rate of reproduction. However, Aundair employed them to great effect during the Last War, and their dragonhawk cavalry played a key role in defending the nation from Thrane’s wyverns.
Aundair has a few floating towers. The best known of these is Arcanix—though what can easily be forgotten is that Arcanix isn’t ONE floating tower, it’s FOUR. As discussed in this article, the reason you don’t see many of these towers is that the effect is unstable and requires considerable ongoing arcane maintenance—which is easy to do when you stock the citadel with the finest wizards in your nation, as is the case with Arcanix. But the Arcane Congress does have a few other floating towers. While the towers float, they don’t MOVE under their own power; moving them during the Last War required massive teams of dragonhawks.

Breland always had the best hippogriff riders. Due to the Race of Eight Winds and the popularity of skyblades, Breland had the strongest tradition of hippogriff riding and many of the riders in the army of Galifar were Brelish. As such, while Breland’s air force lacked the raw power of Aundair’s dragonhawks and Thrane’s wyverns, its hippogriff forces were known for their daring and their skill. Late in the war, Breland employed a few of House Lyrandar’s stormships.

Cyre was relatively weak in the air. It had a small corps of hippogriff riders, and encouraged House Cannith to work on flying constructs, few of which made it beyond the prototype stage. It largely relied on siege staffs and long rods to deal with enemy fliers.

Karrnath had the weakest air force throughout the war. It relied on its strong evokers to blast enemy fliers, and relied on its dominance on the ground. The Blood of Vol experimented with undead flying units; while dramatic, these were never produced in large numbers. As a result, many of Thrane’s greatest victories involved air superiority, and Korth still bears the scars of Thrane’s aerial bombardment.

Thrane has a strong, versatile air force tied to a number of elements.

Wyverns are to Thrane as dragonhawks are to Aundair. For tens of thousands of years, the cliffs around Flamekeep have been home to wyverns. The least of these are typical wyverns as presented in the 5E Monster Manual… generally Large in size and incapable of speech. But there is an exceptional strain of wyverns—typically known as elder wyverns, regardless of their age—that are both more intelligent than their cousins and grow to far greater sizes; as presented in the 3.5 Monster Manual, these wyverns can grow to Gargantuan size. While they are on average less intelligent than humans, elder wyverns are capable of speech. The early settlers of Daskara made peace with the elder wyverns and the rulers of Daskara always had wyvern “advisors.” During the Year of Blood and Fire the wyverns were also threatened by the forces of Bel Shalor, and Tira Miron rallied the elders to her cause; the wyvern Ashtarax carried her in her final confrontation with the forces of Bel Shalor. Following Tira’s sacrifice, the wyverns themselves adopted the faith of the Silver Flame; they consider the defense of Flamekeep to be a sacred duty. The wyverns have relatively little concept of the wider Five Nations and don’t care to know; they serve the church because they believe it serves the Voice of the Flame, and they say that Tira continues to guide them. So, Thrane can field lesser wyverns in battle, but it is the gargantuan elders who spread terror. An elder wyvern can can carry a crew into battle, and early in the war Thrane pioneered new techniques of aerial combat; their trademark was the use of vast bags of holding to drop massive rocks and divinely-infused explosives on their enemies. While the great wyverns lack the powers of dragons, some of the elders have such deep faith that they can channel the power of the Silver Flame; a wyvern might strike at enemies with sacred flame, or even greater powers.
Angels are templars equipped with wings of flying. This version of this rare item is created through a ritual that draws on the faith of the bearer; only the most devout templars can become angels, and typically the item will lose its power when the character attuned to it dies. These wings typically appear to be the rainbow wings of a couatl. Because of these elite templars, Thrane was often believed to have recruited actual angels to fight for them. While Thrane did occasionally deploy celestials formed from the Flame, the majority of its winged warriors were these mortal templars.

Thrane also employed a corps of hippogriff riders. Often a few hippogriffs would be harnessed to the back of a gargantuan wyvern, released to engage any flying enemies that sought to interfere with bombardment.

How common is/was technological powered flight (blimps, dirigibles, or balloons) in Eberron?

None have ever been mentioned in canon that I’m aware of. If I were to introduce some, I’d consider a magical aspect: a dirigible filled with Thelanian clouds, or an alternative form of elemental binding using a harnessed air elemental, which sacrifices speed but doesn’t need a Lyrandar pilot. I might also consider giving dirigibles to the Dhakaani (perhaps created by the Kech Aar’ar, the Keepers of the Air) as another way to show the Dhakanni pursuing a different path than the arcane science of the Five Nations.

How does House Vadalis relate to dragonhawks and wyverns?

House Vadalis is the primary breeder and trainer of hippogriffs. It supplied Galifar with these mounts and continued to breed hippogriffs for all nations during the war. Other creatures are bred and magebred to serve regional markets. For example, the bear is to Breland as the dragonhawk is to Aundair; so in BRELAND, House Vadalis has long worked to build a better bear, with results seen in the magebred bears unleashed on the battlefields of the Five Nations. It is also the case that Vadalis has long worked with creatures that are actually intelligent, as pegasi and the giant owls of Sharn. Such creatures are actually treated as members of the house. They are raised and trained by Vadalis, and Vadalis doesn’t SELL them; it temporarily places them, and the mounts have to agree to the service.

So that’s background: Vadalis has certain beasts and creatures that it supplies to all of the Five Nations, and others that are regional specialties. Vadalis does breed dragonhawks in Aundair, but it is not involved with the wyverns of Thrane—although it does provide Thrane with hippogriffs.

As an interesting side note, the 3.5 sourcebook Five Nations calls out that in the wake of the Eldeen secession, druids in the Reaches have awakened a number of dragonhawks and sent them east, where they may be a fifth column that can disrupt Aundair’s air forces.

What about griffons?

Griffons reflect the challenge of changing systems. In 3.5, the griffon (flight speed 80) was considerably slower than the hippogriff (flight speed 100). In fifth edition that is reversed; the griffon is both stronger AND faster than the hippogriff. With this in mind, I would consider griffons to be used by most nations as an alternative to Aundair’s dragonhawks. However, I would maintain that the griffon is more difficult to control and requires more maintenance—so hippogriffs remain the common aerial mount, with griffons as heavy support.

With the changes in Fifth Edition, how does the Hippogriff fare in the Race of Eight Winds?

Traditionally, the Hippogriff and the Pegasus are the top competitors in the Race of Eight Winds. The Pegasus remains at the top. With the hippogriff’s dramatic reduction in speed in fifth edition, the question is: do you change the lore to match the mechanics, or do you change the mechanics to match the lore? Personally, I’m going to do the latter and say that while wild hippogriffs have a speed of 60 feet, the magebred hippogriffs of House Vadalis have an air speed of 80 feet—call them zephyr hippogriffs. They are no longer FASTER than the Griffon, but the fact of the matter is that the Griffon is still usually more interested in taking down other competitors than in WINNING the Race, so the Hippogriff usually comes out ahead.

What about Aerenal? It’s the source of soarwood—does it use it for flight?

Yes. Aerenal is the source of soarwood, and it’s also significantly more mystically advanced than the Five Nations. I mentioned that Aerenal is a possible source of carpets of flying; those might be woven in part from fibers from the soarwood trees, and there might be massive carpets used as a form of transit. Brooms of flying are more common in Aerenal than even in Aundair. Here again, I’d make them skystaffs rather than BROOMS, but as is typical of Aerenal I wouldn’t see them as uniform in design and mass produced. Instead, I’d imagine them as being sort of like hobby-horses, with fanciful designs; one might have the carved head of a dragon, other the head of an eagle, with similar engraving along the shaft and a seat designed to resemble the creature’s wings. Despite all of that, we’ve never mentioned the Aereni as using airships or elemental binding, and I don’t think they do.

That’s all for now. Feel free to ask questions, but understand that I may not have time to answer them. In other developments, my latest D&D supplement Eberron Confidential is available now on the DM’s Guild, I’m continuing to work with my Patreon supporters to develop my Threshold campaign, and this Friday (November 20th) at 6 PM Pacific time I’ll be playing my new Adventure Zone game with Griffin McElroy, Laser Malena-Webber and Damion Poitier on my Twitch channel! Thanks for your support!

Dragonmarks: Svirfneblin

Posted on October 10, 2020 by Keith Baker

Gnomes Beyond Zilargo was the topic my Patreon supporters chose in September, and there’s a lingering question: What would you do with the Svirfneblin in Eberron?

In my personal campaign I tend to limit the number of unique species and subspecies in the world. For example, in my campaign, Hill Dwarves, Mountain Dwarves, Ruinbound Dwarves, and Mark of Warding Dwarves are all just “dwarves”—a character from the Mror Holds could use any of those subraces and I’d just describe the character as a “Mror dwarf”, not a “Mountain dwarf.” Essentially, the Mountain Dwarf subrace represents early military training—it’s a secondary background, not a genetic disposition.

So with that in mind, I have a set of questions I ask when adding any exotic race to Eberron: Why do you want to add this race to the world? Is it simply that you want a character that has its mechanical advantages? Could your character be UNIQUE—perhaps a creation of House Vadalis, Mordain the Fleshweaver, or the daelkyr? Or do you want to add the CULTURE to the world—because you specifically want to be part of the society associated with that species?

With that in mind, the next step is to look at the svirfneblin and identify their defining features in Fifth Edition. As a subrace, they don’t actually have a lot of abilities: they have Superior Darkvision, Stone Camouflage, and speak Undercommon. If we look further to the Monster Manual description, Deep Gnomes have innate spellcasting abilities, and can cast nondetection, disguise self, blur, and blindness. This ties to their existing story: they are a society of subterranean gnomes who have close ties to earth elementals and who largely use their magic to avoid contact with outsiders, hiding themselves away. Keeping both sets of abilities in mind, here’s a few ways I might use them in MY Eberron.

The Gnomes of Lorghalen

Earlier I wrote an article about the Gnomes of Lorghalen, presenting them as a reclusive culture with strong ties to elementals. I wouldn’t say that ALL Lorghalen gnomes are svirfneblin; most dwell on the surface of the island and have no use for Superior Darkvision, the Lorghali work with a wide range of elementals, and I don’t see any reason for the Lorghali to be physically distinct from their Zil ancestors. However, I think it’s entirely plausible to say that there are a number of Lorghali families who took up residence in deep caverns below the island—caves with an especially strong tie to Lamannia, specifically the element of earth. It’s this that drew these families down there—it’s much easier to perform earth magic and work with earth elementals in the depths—and that over the course of generations, the energies of the caverns mutated these families, creating the genetically distinct Deep Gnomes. Essentially, it’s a variation of the genasi. I think these Deep Gnomes would be a fully integrated part of Lorghali society, even if they largely chose to remain in their caves; the Lorghali are a close-knit society, and I don’t see the unusual appearance of the svirfneblin being an issue.

If I went with this approach, I would replace Undercommon with Primordial; the Lorghali have no contact with the daelkyr or their followers, while they use Primordial in their dealings with elementals.

Agents of the Trust

The Trust is known for its secrecy. There’s even rumors of “ghost agents” who use rings of invisibility and sustenance to live their lives entirely unknown. What if evidence surfaced that the Trust wasn’t just training and equipping spies, but that they had magebred a subspecies of gnome, born into the service of the Trust and innately imbued with the ability to evade divination? If you don’t wish to hold on to the culture of the Deep Gnomes, this is a story you could explore. Per the Monster Manual, the svirfneblin can cast nondetection at will—an exceptional tool for a spy. And disguise self and blur are both excellent tools for espionage.

There’s two ways to take this. The first is more benevolent—the process of becoming a Deep Gnome is voluntary, and involves both training and alchemical, arcane treatments—more Captain America than Doctor Moreau. If I went this way, then a player character svirfneblin might be an active agent of the Trust: James Jalius Bonde.

A second approach is to emphasize that the process used to create these Deep Agents is horrifying and that they are forced to serve through lifelong indoctrination and psychological conditioning—that the people of Zilargo don’t know about the svirfneblin and would be horrified if they found out. In this case, I’d emphasize that this is the work of a small sub-branch of the Trust—a semi-rogue agency who has hidden their work from the Triumvirate. The reason for this is to emphasize that if a player character is a svirvneblin who’s broken free, that they aren’t being pursued by the entire Trust, which is a crazy burden to place on a PC; rather, they are dealing with a secret agency WITHIN the Trust, which has limited resources. My inspiration here would be the Bourne Identity series—The hero is hunted by Treadstone, not the entire US government. I’d suggest that the player character is presumed dead, and is trying to stay off the grid. With that in mind, I’d actually be willing to give the Svirfneblin Magic feat, but emphasize that they NEED to stay hidden or they will be targeted by assassins. While it’s a powerful ability, there’s a limited number of scenarios that will actually be broken by nondetection, and I think it’s a fun story to explore.

A third possibility would be to make the svirfneblin a society of gnomes WITHIN Zilargo who managed to magebreed themselves to induce the natural nondetection and other talents, as a way to avoid being watched Trust. Essentially, a secret enclave of brilliant alchemist artificers who believe that the Trust is watching EVERYONE with divination magic ALL THE TIME—sort of a tinfoil hat conspiracy taken to an amazing extreme!

Q&A

Would these Eberron deep gnomes still be gray and bald?

The Lorghali deep gnomes would. The idea is that it’s a physical mutation similar to a genasi. In the case of the “Captain America” agent of the Trust or the “Tinfoil Hat” gnome, I’d be inclined to give them the abilities of the deep gnome but not the traditional appearance; in which case Stone Camouflage might be a sort of limited invisibility (given that it works regardless of what the character is wearing, it’s presumable not just based on skin color). With the “Bourne Identity” version of the Trust agent, I personally WOULD keep the gray-and-bald appearance to emphasize how dramatic the experiments were—that they largely DO stay hidden (though again, Svirfneblin Magic gives them limited use of disguise self!). Of course, in that storyline almost no one knows what a deep gnome is; they’d be a curiosity, quite possibly mistaken for some sort of goblin.

Have you used svirfneblin in an Eberron campaign? If so, share your approach in the comments! And if you’ve missed any of the previous gnome articles, check out the Gnomes of Lorghalen and the Gnomes of Pylas Pyrial! And if you want to vote on the topic of the next dragonmark article, check out my Patreon!

Sidebar: Aberrant Champions

Posted on June 11, 2020 by Keith Baker

It’s hard to talk about dragonmarks and the dragonmarked houses without also discussing aberrant dragonmarks and the War of the Mark. I posted a sidebar article about Aberrant Dragonmarks not too long ago, but my Patreon supporters recently raised a number of questions recently about the aberrant champions of the War of the Mark, notably Halas Tarkanan.

For a quick refresher: Long ago aberrant dragonmarks were more widespread than they are today, and they were also more powerful than the common aberrant mark known today—the simple powers granted by the Aberrant Dragonmark feat. The dragonmarked houses—quite young at the time—used the fear of aberrant dragonmarks as a scapegoat, both as a cause that helped to unite the houses themselves and to strengthen public opinion that “true” dragonmarks were good, and aberrant dragonmarks were the foul touch of Khyber… and lest it go without saying, many members of the houses believed the tales they spread. There’s no cure for an aberrant dragonmark, and this led to mob violence and from there to more organized persecution on the part of the houses. “The War of the Mark” implies a conflict between two even sides, and this was anything but. Due to house propaganda, people with aberrant marks were feared and ostracized, and this was more of a witch-hunt than a war. However, as it drew on, a number of leaders emerged among the aberrants—people with the charisma to lead and the foresight to plan, and with enough raw power that even the houses came to fear them. These leaders gathered bands of aberrants around them and sought to establish sanctuaries or hold off her houses.

The band whose exploits are best known was tied to three powerful aberrants. Halas Tarkanan was known as “The Earthshaker,” and his aberrant mark gave him power over elemental forces. His two greatest allies were known only by titles. The Lady of the Plague controlled vermin and disease, and was widely seen as the most dangerous of the aberrants. The Dreambreaker wielded vast psychic power and could crush lesser minds. Beyond his personal power, Tarkanan was a master strategist. Under his guidance, they seized the city of Sharn (which far smaller than it is today) and established it as a haven for the aberrant. But the houses had superior numbers, resources, and discipline. Sharn was besieged, and when it became clear that the battle was lost, Halas determined to make the victory as costly as possible. The three aberrant leaders gave their lives and poured their essence into terrible death curses. Little is known about the impact of the Dreambreaker’s curse. But Tarkanan’s curse shook the earth and collapsed the old towers, while the Lady of the Plague spread deadly disease throughout the ruins and called up strange forms of vermin. Those few soldiers who survived the attack lingered just long enough to carry the plagues to their comrades; even in death, the Lady of the Plague inflicted a lasting blow on the house forces. Today it’s her curse that is still felt. The region known as “Old Sharn” is sealed off because it’s believed that her plagues still linger in the depths, and there are forms of vermin found in Sharn that aren’t seen anywhere else in Khorvaire.

In considering the aberrant leaders, there’s a few things to bear in mind. The first is that they possessed aberrant marks of a level of power not yet seen in the present day—aberrant dragonmarks comparable to the Siberys dragonmarks of the houses. But beyond that, just like the house of today, their greatest powers came not simply from their dragonmarks, but from tools that focused and amplified the powers of these marks. Tarkanan channeled his power through a gauntlet he called the Earth’s Fist. The Dreambreaker used the Delirium Stone to focus his mental energy. And the Lady of the Plague wore a cloak she called Silence. So it’s not that Halas destroyed a city with his mark alone; just Cannith has creation forges and Lyrandar has its storm spires, it was the Earth’s Fist that allowed Tarkanan to level Sharn. And while these leaders died, it’s quite possible these artifacts survived. Each one was designed to interface with the unique marks of the champions who carried them, but it’s possible that a modern creature with a similar aberrant dragonmark could attune to one of these deadly artifacts.

So who were these aberrant champions? The short answer is that no one knows for sure. They lived over fifteen centuries ago, most were outcasts, and of course, the winners write history. Any serious scholar has to eliminate the propaganda circulated by the houses at the time—stories that present Tarkanan and his allies as monsters. Sivis propaganda suggested that Tarkanan was an avatar of the Devourer—a story supported by his elemental power—sent to bring suffering to innocents. Other tales claimed that all of the aberrant leaders were “lords of dust,” lingering fiends from the Age of Demons that delighted in chaos and bloodshed. So the short form is that it’s hard to be certain of anything and that adventurers could always discover new answers over the course of their adventures. What follows is the answer in my Eberron—the truth that could be found by a diligent sage—but that doesn’t mean it’s the absolute truth.

Halas Tarkanan

Halas Tarkanan was the son of Ilana Halar d’Deneith, an heir of House Deneith, and Grayn Tarkanan, a mercenary licensed by the house. Ilana commanded the mercenary regiment Grayn served in, and the two fell in love. When Grayn developed an aberrant dragonmark his contact with the house was severed and Illana was ordered to end her relationship with him. She refused and was excoriated. Ilana and Grayn left Korth behind, working as independent mercenaries in southern Wroat (the region that’s now Breland), where Deneith had yet to fully establish its presence.They served the self-appointed King Breggor III in a series of bitter conflicts between Wroat lords, and Halas was raised on the battlefield. Ilana taught her son the arts of war, and he was as capable as any Deneith heir. A Sivis account says that Halas murdered his parents, but the truth is more complex. In this time the houses were expanding their whispering campaign against aberrants, and House Deneith was expanding its operations in Wroat. Deneith promised to support Breggor, but first he had to rid himself of his aberrant and excoriate champions. Illana’s troop was sent into an ambush and trapped on a now-forgotten bridge over the Dagger River. They were surrounded by enemies when Halas’s aberrant dragonmark manifested. Its power collapsed the bridge, killing both his family and their enemies, and Halas himself was presumed dead; the destruction of the bridge was held up as yet another example of the dangers posed by aberrant dragonmarks. But Halas survived.

There’s few concrete records of the next decade of Tarkanan’s life. Some say that he secretly made his way to Rekkenmark, and served in the armies of Karrnath; in these stories, some of his unmarked comrades in arms later joined his struggles in Wroat. Certainly, he eventually fought a one-man war against Breggor and House Deneith’s operations in Wroat, gaining greater control over his powers with each guerrilla attack. He obtained the Earth’s Fist during this time, presumably by working with the Tinker. He met the Lady of the Plague in this time, but none know exactly how. Within House Tarkanan, one story says that the Lady found Halas dying of infected wounds and saved his life; another tale says that the two were both sheltering in the same village during an aberrant purge. Whatever the truth, they were already partners when the houses and their supporters began executing aberrants.

Halas was a gifted tactician, and the Lady of the Plague seems to have been a persuasive speaker; together, they executed an exodus through southern Wroat, rallying aberrants from across the region around Sharn. The rest is history; in the novel The Son of Khyber, a contemporary says of Halas “I think he always knew how the struggle would end, but he was determined to give our people hope and to make the houses pay for the blood they spilled.”

So: what’s known of Halas Tarkanan? He was the child of a Deneith excoriate and hated House Deneith above all others. He was skilled with a sword, but his talents as a commander were more important than his skills with a blade. He was ruthless when he had to be, and was willing to make sacrifices when it was the only way to hurt his enemy. And not only did he possess an aberrant mark of great power, he knew techniques that allowed him to manipulate his mark in ways unknown in the present day… as shown by the “death curse” that leveled old Sharn. Many dragonmarks place a burden—physical or mental—on the bearer. There’s no records of what price Halas paid for his power, but some stories suggest that his mark may have reacted to his mood—that he was always calm, because his anger could shatter the world. But as with so much about him, this is largely conjecture. There are no records of him having children, but if any existed it’s likely he would have kept their existence as secret as possible. Certainly by the end of the War of the Mark, the houses claimed to have completely eliminated the “blood of Khyber”—but as as aberrant dragonmarks aren’t hereditary in the same way as true marks, it’s possible he could have had an unmarked child who slipped past the divinations of the Twelve.

The Lady of the Plague

If you have a moment, there’s someone I’d like you to meet. She grew up in village in Daskara, not far from the modern city of Sigilstar. She loved the country and taking care of the livestock. When she was 13, her family fell ill with a disease no one had ever seen before. They died, and the plague spread to the rest of the village and their stock. Only two things were unaffected: the rats and the girl. When everyone was dead, she fled to the town of Sarus. You’ve never heard of Sarus, because it doesn’t exist anymore. It was burnt by those who sought to keep the plague from spreading. The rats kept the girl alive, and were the only thing that kept her close to sane. In time she learned to control her power. Even so, she couldn’t bear the burden of the deaths on her conscience. She declared that the girl had died with her family. She was someone new, someone without a name. She was the Lady of the Plague.

This is the most detailed description of the Lady of the Plague, drawn from this (noncanon) article on aberrant dragonmarks. On a small scale, the Lady could use her mark to inflict effects similar to harm and insect plague. But her greater gift was the power to create virulent diseases—plagues that could spread across entire cities. However, she had no ability to cure the diseases she could create. Unleashing a disease was like setting a fire; it could spread farther and faster than she intended. She was one of the most infamous aberrants of the age; the destruction of Sarus was a regular feature in the propaganda of the Twelve, carrying the warning that sparing one aberrant could doom your entire city.

Halas Tarkanan was a strategist and a warrior, and is usually seen as the leader of the Wroat aberrants. But sages who dig deep will find that while Halas was the warrior, the Lady was the visionary—that it was her impassioned speeches that rallied the refugees when spirits were low, and she who convinced people to follow and fight alongside them. While Sivis accounts typically depict the refugees as all aberrants, the fact is that there were many unmarked people who joined the aberrant cause. Some were relatives or lovers of the marked, but others were compelled by the Lady’s words, and made the choice to stand by those innocents being hunted by the houses. Halas and the Lady rallied other oppressed people, and many Wroat goblins joined their cause. When the Twelve finally laid siege to Sharn, only about half of the people in the city had aberrant marks, but all chose to stand and fight.

It’s known that the Lady had unusual theories about the nature and purpose of aberrant dragonmarks. It’s possible she had some inkling of the Draconic Prophecy, but she may have simply believed that aberrant marks and those who carried them had a role to play in the grand order of things. There are no known recordings of her beliefs… but perhaps one of her journals remains hidden in Old Sharn, or even somewhere in Aundair.

Like Halas, the Lady of the Plague possessed the ability to enhance her power through her own pain, and her death curse lingers to this day. Her cloak Silence helped her contain her power and prevent accidental infection of innocents, but it also amplified her abilities.

The Dreambreaker

The Dreambreaker was a gnome born in what’s now Zilargo. His aberrant mark allowed him to shatter the minds of people around him and some accounts suggest that he could twist time and space. However, his power also affected his own perception of reality. It’s said that he believed the Wroat aberrants were actually fighting the Sovereigns, and that the houses and their mortal minions were simply manifestations of this greater cosmic struggle. He was devoted to the aberrant cause and his sheer power was a vital weapon in their arsenal, but his instability prevented him from leading forces on his own. Like the Lady of the Plague, the Dreambreaker was often featured in anti-aberrant propaganda; Sivis spread wild tales of his abilities to crush minds and claimed that he could murder innocent people in their dreams.

The Dreambreaker possessed a focus item called the Delirium Stone, presumably created by the Tinker. He is presumed to have died in the siege of Sharn, but he is known to have been fighting in a different tower than Halas Tarkanan and some accounts suggest that he planned to twist time, stealing the future from the houses… but nothing was ever heard from him following the destruction of Sharn.

The Tinker

Halas Tarkanan, the Dreambreaker, The Lady of the Plague, Kalara of the Ten Terrors, and more—the most infamous champions of the War of the mark all possessed artifacts that channeled and focused the powers of their aberrant marks. But where did these tools come from? Halas was no artificer, and the aberrants didn’t have the resources of House Cannith. Or did they? It’s recorded that Halas ascribed the Earth’s Fist to “the tinker,” and storytellers have used that to create a mysterious figure—an aberrant heir of House Cannith! Whose dragonmark allows them to consume or twist the enchantments of objects! Others say that this tinker must have been a fiend—able to create tools to channel the power of Khyber because they themselves were one of the true children of Khyber. Either of these are possible, but there is a simpler possibility: that “the tinker” may have been a term referring to a number of sympathetic artificers within House Cannith who opposed the War of the Mark and sought to aid their aberrant foes.

The true identity of the Tinker could be an interesting mystery to solve—especially if House Tarkanan starts receiving aberrant focus items in the present day. Are these gifts from the original Tinker, somehow preserved through centuries? Or is this the legacy of a movement in House Cannith—perhaps tied to the humble Juran line—that has hidden in the shadows of the house?

Why Does This Matter?

For centuries after the War of the Mark, aberrant dragonmarks were all but unknown. Over the age of Galifar they slowly began to return, but their powers were trivial in comparison to the might of Halas Tarkanan or the Lady of the Plague. Within the last century aberrant dragonmarks have been appearing at an unprecedented rate, and a few with greater power have been reported. Is this the work of the daelkyr? A sign that an overlord is close to breaking its bonds? Or could it be a manifestation of the Draconic Prophecy: could the aberrants have a vital role to play in the days ahead?

While there are no concrete mechanics for powerful aberrant marks, as with an dragonmark a player character could ascribe their class features to an aberrant dragonmark. A sorcerer’s spells could be drawn from their mark; a warlock could take their aberrant mark as their patron, perhaps even hearing it whisper or receiving strange dreams. Even a barbarian could say that their rage is the power of their aberrant mark. I personally played a character in a campaign who believed that he had inherited Halas Tarkanan’s mark, and that it was his destiny to rally and protect the aberrants of the present day. That’s one possibility: the idea that the essence of one of these champions could be reborn in the present. Another possibility is that the Dreambreaker could have been right all along; that he did have the power to twist time and space, and that he channeled the essence of the aberrants to the present day (a variation of this is explored in the old RPGA adventure “The Delirium Stone”). Alternately adventurers could encounter a ghost or some other legacy of one of these champions—or perhaps find a journal of the Lady of the Plague, containing strange insights.

General Q&A

Were aberrant marks always ostracized? When Cannith and Sivis began to rally the other bloodlines into the Houses, were mixed marks thought of as undiscovered new marks, or were their destructive abilities quickly categorized into the realm of dangerous and taboo?

There was certainly a time when aberrant marks weren’t as feared as they are today, let alone the crazed fear that drove the War of the Mark. We’ve called out that the houses actively fanned the flames of fear and built up that hatred for decades before the War of the Mark finally took place. But while it may not have been as intense, they were always feared, because as called out in the other linked articles, they ARE dangerous. The Lady of the Plague DID destroy multiple communities before learning to master her power—and there are many aberrants who never learn to master their powers. It was easy for the houses to amplify the fear because people were already afraid, and the houses encouraged this instead of working to bring people together. But there were also surely communities that refused to give into that fear—villages that were havens for those with aberrant dragonmarks. Such communities would have provided the bulk of the numbers in the Wroat exodus, both of marked and unmarked refugees; while the people in these communities stood together, they also knew that they couldn’t fight house forces.

Regarding why the marks weren’t seen as undiscovered new dragonmarks, and why they quickly became taboo, there’s two factors. Aberrant dragonmarks aren’t hereditary and don’t have a common appearance. Three marks that grant burning hands could all manifest in entirely different ways. It’s rare to find any two aberrant marks that are identical, let alone that resemble the “true” marks, so people were pretty quick to conclude that these weren’t just some undiscovered new mark. Beyond this, the issue is that not only is an aberrant mark not hereditary, manifesting an aberrant mark severs your connection to any other dragonmark. When the child of an Orien and Cannith manifests an aberrant mark, it also eliminates any possibility that their children could manifest the Mark of Making or Mark of Passage. As the houses were still working to build their numbers and the strength of their lines, this revelation was as significant a factor in banning inter-house liasons as fears of the mixed marks themselves.

How do you see the participation of the Houses that existed at the time playing out in the War of the Mark?

Part of the purpose of the war was to strengthen the ties between the newly minted houses—creating a common foe they could fight together. This was also a way to familiarize the people of Khorvaire with houses that had previously been limited to a particular region and to help them spread. There were houses that didn’t exist—Thuranni, Tharashk. The Mark of Detection had only just appeared, and it’s quite possible that Medani was formed during the war, as the hunt for aberrant marks would certainly have discovered this new true mark. But Phiarlan performed reconnaissance, Deneith provided the bulk of the soldiers, Cannith armed them, Jorasco healed them, Ghallanda supported them. Vadalis provided mounts to ride and beasts to track the foe. Sivis most likely focused on logistics and propaganda. In the adventure “The Delirium Stone” (EMH-7), adventurers encounter a squad of soldiers including Deneith infantry, a Phiarlan archer, and a Jorasco healer supporting the unit. Later encounters include a Vadalis magebred swarm and a Cannith construct.

Ghallanda is an interesting question. While I expected it was pressured to support the action and likely helped with supplies, I can definitely imagine individual Ghallanda heir providing sanctuary to aberrant refugees, holding their principles over the goals of the alliance.

In Dragonmarked it’s said that the Medani were originally thought to be aberrants, and that they were subsequently coerced into joining the Twelve.

It’s difficult for me to imagine that there was any significant length of time in which Medani were mistaken for aberrants. Aberrant dragonmarks and true dragonmarks are dramatically different. All true dragonmarks share the same general coloration, sizing, and overall design; the Mark of Detection is distinctly different from the Mark of Making, but at a DISTANCE it looks the same. Aberrant marks vary wildly in color and design. They aren’t hereditary and two marks that grant the same power may be dramatically different in appearance. Even if someone believed that despite looking just like a true mark that a mark was aberrant, the moment they saw that the person had a brother with the same mark they should know something was up. And remember that the Twelve were LOOKING for additional true marks; they called themselves “The Twelve” before they’d found twelve marks, because they were convinced there were others out there waiting to be found.So I have great trouble imagining a widespread series of events in which Medani were mistaken for aberrants. One or two minor incidents, sure, But even at a distance, if someone saw the blue-purple mark they likely wouldn’t say “No, wait, that’s not exactly like one of ours”—they’d say “Damn, that half-elf has a dragonmark! Who let a Lyrandar in here?”

With that said: The Mark of Detection manifested during the War of the Mark. So those who carried it lived alongside aberrants, and could easily have been caught up in the purges that targeted them. As such, I can see many Medani having sympathy for the aberrants and choosing to stand alongside them: “Why do you treat me differently than her, just because my mark is blue and the same as my father’s?” So I think it’s quite plausible that a number of early Medani rejected the Twelve and actually fought alongside the aberrants; but that’s not the same as being mistaken for aberrants. And I do think that overall, the Medani were pressured—even threatened—by the other houses to join the Twelve, and that this underlies their attitude toward the Twelve to this day.

That’s all I have time for now. Have you used aberrant dragonmarks or the champions of the War of the Mark in your campaign? If so, share your stories below. Thanks as always to my Patreon supporters, who keep this site going; supporters are currently voting on the topic of the next major article (Sarlona is currently in the lead!).

Dragonmarks: Reaching For The Stars

Posted on May 28, 2020 by Keith Baker

Image by Lucas Guerrini for *Exploring Eberron*

Nearly a quarter of Exploring Eberron is devoted to the planes of Eberron, providing a deeper look into these different layers of reality. While this addresses the supernatural cosmology of Eberron, my Patreon supporters have posed a number of questions tied to the Material Plane. What do the people of Eberron know about the physical universe beyond Eberron? What is the nature of the moons? Could there be a space race in Eberron? Others have raised more practical questions: how do the many moons of Eberron affect its tides? Wouldn’t the destruction of a moon have had even more cataclysmic results than have been suggested?

Ultimately, this begins with a crucial question: what is the Material Plane? In the myth of the Progenitors—a tale told in some form by nearly every culture—the three Progenitors work together to create thirteen planes, each one an idealized exploration of a particular concept: Life, death, war, peace. Following this effort, they rest in the emptiness that lies at the center of the planes. There the Progenitors quarrel. Khyber kills Siberys and tears him apart. Eberron enfolds Khyber and becomes the world itself, forming a living prison she cannot escape.

Whether this is truth or metaphor, it is a basic explanation for natural phenomenon.

Eberron is the world and source of natural life. It is surrounded by the shattered Ring of Siberys, and it contains Khyber. Whether or not Eberron was once a noble dragon who imprisoned another dragon, it is a natural world that surrounds and imprisons a source of fiends and aberrations.
Eberron—and its Material Plane—lies between the thirteen planes. It is influenced by all of them but it’s not part of any of them. It’s a world that knows both war and peace, life and death.
By canon (Rising p. 228), Eberron is the sole planet in its Material Plane. Beyond this, when people dream in Eberron, their spirits go to Dal Quor. When they die, they go to Dolurrh. There are no accounts of people encountering spirits from OTHER material worlds in either plane.

So the first thing to bear in mind: There is nothing natural about the universe of Eberron. The story of the Progenitors might be fact or it could be mere myth. But Eberron does appear to be the center of its Material Plane. It is the fulcrum of the 13 planes, the point where they all intersect — and as shown by Dal Quor and Dolurrh, the creatures of the Material Plane are tied to the other planes. Dig below the surface of Eberron and you won’t simply find a molten core; you’ll find the demiplanes of Khyber. You can go down a tunnel in the Mror Holds, walk five miles, and come out in Xen’drik. Which is to say, this is a supernatural reality. Arcane and divine magic are side effects of this; Eberron is suffused with a fundamental force that doesn’t exist in our world. Now, this may be because Eberron as a setting is a created artifact—that some form of the myth of the Progenitors is true. Or it could be the result of undirected evolution… but that doesn’t change the fact that it is a supernatural reality, fundamentally different from the universe that we know.

This initial section examines the known facts about the celestial objects of Eberron. This is followed by a discussion of the possible space race, which goes into more detail about what might be found on the moons or in the ring. Lest it go without saying, this is my vision of Eberron and may contradict existing sourcebooks.

The Sun and the Stars

In the Progenitor Myth, the three Progenitors rested in the Material Plane after creating the planes. They created the sun, Arrah, much as mortals might kindle a campfire. This fire remained even after their battle, and continues to provide light, heat, and comfort to the world. Arrah is rarely mentioned because it functions much like the sun we’re used to; it’s good that it’s there, but you definitely wouldn’t want to visit it. In the Sovereign Host, Dol Arrah is the Sovereign of Sun and Sacrifice; her name is, essentially, “The Warrior Sun.”

As for the stars, there are stars in the sky of Eberron, but they aren’t the anchors of distant solar systems. There are limits to the Material Plane, and the stars mark those limits; whether or not you embrace the concepts of Spelljammer, you can think of them as glittering points in the shell of a crystal sphere. The common constellations are figures of ancient dragons—Io, Tiamat, Chronepsis—though most people can’t actually say where these names come from. It’s generally assumed that they were handed down by one of the ancient kingdoms of Sarlona, or established by the ancestors of the Aereni; in fact, this is a tradition that was spread by dragons, as they moved secretly among the lesser races.

The Ring of Siberys

The closest celestial object is the Ring of Siberys, a brilliant equatorial band of light that dominates the sky. We know that the Ring is comprised of siberys dragonshards, because it’s where those dragonshards come from. Most fallen shards are quite small, but it’s there are definitely larger shards in the Ring; the civilization of the Qabalrin elves of Xen’drik was destroyed when the Ring of Storms was struck by a massive dragonshard now known as the Heart of Siberys. It’s possible that the entire ring is made up of pure dragonshards, or it could be that there are shards embedded in a more inert material—perhaps the petrified flesh of an ancient cosmic dragon.

One of the more popular schools of arcane thought maintains that all arcane magic (and perhaps divine magic as well) manipulates energy that radiates from the Ring—that magic itself is the “Blood of Siberys.” Whether or not this is true, siberys dragonshards are an extremely valuable resource. Siberys shards are used for dragonmark focus items, but per Rising From The Last War they are also used for “eldritch machines or the creation of legendary items or artifacts.” A nation or house that can secure a reliable source of siberys shards will have a huge advantage in advancing arcane science. It’s also possible that an outpost in the Ring could harness the ambient energy of the Ring itself to perform epic magic. So the Ring of Siberys is close to Eberron and unquestionably valuable; if a space race begins, it’s the logical first step.

The Moons

Twelve orbiting moons are visible from Eberron. Each moon goes through standard lunar phases, and during the month that shares its name, the moon enters an “ascendant phase”; during this time the moon is brighter than usual. Each moon is associated with certain personality traits, and it’s believed that people are influenced by the moon that is ascendant at the time of their birth. Canon descriptions of the moons can be found in this article. Moving beyond canon (something suggested but never defined) there’s a further complication, because the moons are also tied to the planes—and each moon enters its ascendant phase when its associated plane is coterminous, and becomes unusually dim when the plane is remote. So while unusual, it’s possible for there to be two or three ascendant moons at a particular time, if multiple coterminous periods converge.

The connection between the planes and the moons is reinforced by the fact that within a plane, the associated moon is the only one that can be seen in the sky (assuming that any moon can be seen; not all planar layers have a visible sky). However, the phase of the moon doesn’t match its current phase on Eberron. It may be fixed in a single phase—such as in Lamannia, where the moon is always full, or it could change from layer to layer.

By canon lore, no humanoid has ever visited one of the moons. Because of this, their nature remains a mystery. They could be similar to the moon of Earth—harsh and barren. It’s possible that they aren’t planetoids at all, but are in fact planar gateways—that a vessel that tries to land on Dravago will find itself in Risia. This would explain why the moons don’t have the expected impact on tides; it may be that they don’t actually have any mass! A third option lies between these two: that the moons are habitable planetoids that are strongly influenced by the planes they are tied to. The moon Vult isn’t inhabited by the angels and demons of Shavarath, but it could be home to societies of tieflings and aasimar locked in an endless war… though unlike the immortals of Shavarath, the people of Vult might decide to turn their aggressive attention to Eberron!

THE SPACE RACE

By canon, Eberron is the only planet in its material plane. Between the planes and the demiplanes of Khyber, there’s ample opportunity for adventurers to explore strange new worlds, and deep space exploration was never planned as part of the setting; we don’t need to have alien invaders come from a distant planet when we already have alien invaders crawling out of Xoriat. Nothing’s stopping the DM from going full Spelljammer and breaking through the wall of stars. But by default, that’s not the story Eberron was designed to tell.

However, you don’t have to go into deep space to have a space race. The Ring of Siberys is a clear target for any advanced nation. Siberys dragonshards are an immensely valuable resource; now that the Five Nations are using dragonshards in an industrial capacity and can see the potential of siberys shards, it’s only logical that people would be looking to the skies and dreaming of the power waiting to be claimed. Beyond the ring you have the moons. Perhaps they’re barren orbs. But if they’re planar gateways they could be the key to serious planar exploration, and if they’re manifest worlds they could hold unknown wonders. So there’s clearly something to be gained from reaching for the sky. And just as in our world, a space race gives a clear, tight focus for the current cold war. The people of the Five Nations may be afraid to start the Last War anew… but which nation will be the first to plant their flag in the Ring of Siberys?

In dealing with the space race, there’s a few questions to consider. What are the obstacles that have to be overcome? Who’s in the race? Who’s already up there? And what might people find?

Obstacles

If all that it takes to reach the moons is to fly straight up, people would have done it long ago. Even though airships are a relatively recent innovation, surely in three decades SOMEONE has determined just how high they can go… and while airships may be new, brooms of flying and similar devices have been around. If there’s no obstacles, there’s no tension and it’s hard to explain why it hasn’t happened. Yet at the same time, this isn’t our reality and there’s no reason that the obstacles to space travel should be the SAME obstacles that we had to overcome. So as a DM planning a space race, consider the following factors.

Gravity. If you have to escape the gravity of Eberron to reach the Ring of Siberys, it’s easy to say that no standard methods of flight provide sufficient velocity to accomplish this. This provides room for different nations to be exploring different approaches to attaining that velocity. Elemental binding is an option; how many elementals can you bind to a vessel? Another option is to expand on the arcane principles of levitation, perhaps burning siberys shards to provide a temporary surge of energy. A more exotic option would be to abandon flight in favor of teleportation; imagine flinging a teleport circle anchor at the target.
Cosmic Rays. The Ring of Siberys is thought by many to be the source of arcane energy. If so, this radiation could be lethal without proper protection. Alternately, the energy might be harmless, but it could overload unprotected enchantments: until people figure out how to protect against this surge, all magical systems could burn out and shut down in the vicinity of the Ring of Siberys. This could form a deadly layer around the entire planet, or this could be a way to explain why people are aiming for the moons instead of the Ring; because they can’t safely get close to the Ring, but they can avoid it.
Oxygen. At what point does the air become too thin to breathe? Is there a vacuum between Eberron and the moons? Because this isn’t natural space, it could be that there IS breathable air throughout the entire system, or that the Ring or the moons have atmosphere—or it could be that the atmosphere largely behaves the way that we’re used to. If oxygen is an obstacle, it doesn’t affect the design of a vessel, but travelers will need to have a solution. Spells and magic items that allow people to breathe underwater could be adapted for this purpose; it’s possible that the same item could work both underwater or in the Ring of Siberys.
Hostile Environment. In our world, space travel may require you to deal both with extreme cold or heat. Is the Ring of Siberys shrouded in bitter cold, or is it mysteriously maintained at a comfortable temperature? Chapter 5 of the Dungeon Master’s Guide provides basic guidelines for dealing with extreme cold, extreme heat, or high altitude. These could be intensified to reflect a truly alien environment, either reducing the time between required saving throws or amplifying the effects of failure. This could also be a factor in vessel design. Airships are made of soarwood; will a wooden ship burn up on re-entry?

Who’s In The Race?

The idea of a space race is that there’s a sense of tension and competition. The Ring of Siberys is too vast for any nation to claim dominion over it. But the first nation to establish an outpost in the Ring or on the moons with have the first opportunity to explore the environment, to harness its resources, and to establish contact with whatever creatures could be found there. The idea is that no nation or dragonmarked house has had unlimited access to Siberys shards; no one knows what could be done with that reliable source. So for purposes of the story, people should KNOW who’s in the race; adventurers could involve helping an allied power gain the resources it needs to advance or acting to block a rival power. So who’s in the race?

One option is to focus on the Five Nations: this is about Breland, Aundair, and Karrnath racing to the sky. A second option is to make it a rivalry between house and nation; perhaps it’s about the Twelve competing against the space program of the Arcane Congress.

Personally, my inclination is to focus on the Five Nations—emphasizing that the Last War has been replaced by a cold war. But I’d also throw in additional alliances. House Cannith is involved with everyone; it’s split in three and the house thus wins in any scenario, but part of the question is who wins; it could be generally understood that the Cannith faction that wins the space race will also claim the leadership of the house. So here’s the factions I’d use in MY space race.

Aundair: The Dragonhawk Initiative. Aundair’s space program is an alliance between the Arcane Congress, Cannith West (under Jorlanna d’Cannith), and House Orien. While they are exploring all possibilities, the Dragonhawk Initiative is focusing on teleportation. There are three current paths under investigation: direct teleportation (which also requires scrying to confirm the target point); physical projection of an object that serves as a teleportation circle; or using a passage through a plane to cross space. Thelanis and Xoriat are the planes most tied to these efforts. There is a branch of the Dragonhawk exploring traditional levitation, but leadership is convinced that teleportation is the cleanest and safest approach.
Breland: The King’s Observatory. The Observatory is a branch of the King’s Citadel, formed in alliance with Zilargo, Cannith South (under Merrix d’Cannith), and Hosue Lyrandar. While they are exploring traditional levitation techniques, the Observatory is primarily focused on building a better elemental airship, overcoming the obstacles with elemental binding and Cannith ingenuity. Merrix has been experimenting with living ships—a step that could render Lyrandar pilots obsolete. Syrania and Fernia are the planes most associated with their efforts.
Karrnath: The Blade of Siberys. The Blade is an alliance between the Karrnathi crown, Cannith East (under Zorlan d’Cannith), and a number of wealthy individuals. Antus ir’Soldorak brings tremendous wealth and mineral resources to the table; Alina Lorridan Lyrris is an expert transmuter and owns the richest khyber shard mines in Khorvaire. The fact that they’re both members of the Platinum Concord of the Aurum is a remarkable coincidence. The Blade of Siberys is primarily interested in reaching the Ring rather than the moons. It is focused on traditional magic of flight, but Zorlan is exploring ways necromancy could be used to solve this problem: ghost astronauts? A shadow engine that draws on the power of the Endless Night? These efforts involve the Mabaran manifest zones in Karrnath, but they are considering the potential of other planes. The Blade is also very focused on the military potential of this program, and any Karrnathi space vessel will be heavily armed.

Thrane is currently a minor player in the race, though the Argentum is exploring the possibilities for an engine that harnesses the power of the Silver Flame itself. Likewise, New Cyre lacks the resources to compete with these main players… but Oargev dreams of establishing a true new Cyre on Olarune.

Who’s Already Up There?

The Five Nations may be working to win the space race, but someone else likely won that race long ago. The dragons of Argonessen are an ancient and advanced civilization, and believe themselves to be the children of Eberron and Siberys; if it’s possible to reach the Ring of Siberys, they surely did it long ago. They could use outposts in the Ring to watch for the appearance of Prophecy marks, and the epic magics unleashed in the destruction of Xen’drik may well have been channeled through siberys shards harvested from the Ring. However, the Ring of Siberys is vast and the dragons are secretive; their outposts are surely well hidden, both physically and magically. Having said that, the dragons may not have bothered to explore the moons—so they could be a truly unexplored frontier.

The giants of ancient Xen’drik were also powerful and advanced. Both the Cul’sir Dominion and the Group of Eleven explored the planes; either one could have ventured into space. Any giant outposts in the Ring of Siberys would have been destroyed by the dragons when they laid waste to Xen’drik, but there could be still be ruins in the Ring. And if a DM wants to introduce a powerful force of giants or empyreans, they could have used a powerful sequester effect to conceal a base in the Ring or on one of the moons.

The Undying Court aren’t involved in the space race. The Ascendant Counselors explore the universe in astral form and have no need to do it physically. The Lords of Dust don’t have any outposts of their own, but they are surely watching all the participants in the space race. As the fiends are the children of Khyber, it’s possible that the pure essence of Siberys is especially repellant to them—that any fiend that approaches the Ring will be destroyed.

These are creatures of Eberron who might have settled above it; possible natives are discussed below.

Exploring the Ring of Siberys

The Ring of Siberys is the logical first stop in the space race, being closer than the moons and having a clear strategic value. If the DM would rather focus on the moons, the magical energies of the Ring can be deadly to living creatures. If the Ring is the destination, the first question is whether the Ring has gravity and atmosphere. This is the most magical place in existence, so anything is possible. The next question is whether the Ring is in fact entirely comprised of massive dragonshards, or if the bulk of it is some other material; it could be a soft stone, that some might see as the calcified flesh of an ancient dragon. Even if there is an atmosphere, the Ring is entirely barren. People may be able to dig into it or build structures on the surface, but there’s no natural sources of food or water; travelers will need to either have strong supply lines, or more likely, to come prepared with ways to magically create food and water.

Magic is dramatically enhanced within the Ring. One option is that all spells cast in the Ring benefit from the Distant Spell and Extended Spell Metamagic options presented in the sorcerer class. But it’s difficult to channel this power; if the DM uses this option, all spellcasting carries the risk of a sorcerer’s Wild Magic Surge. With time, it could be that spellcasters could learn unique spells that can only be cast in the magic-rich environment of the Ring.

Even if the energies of the Ring aren’t directly lethal, they can produce many dangerous effects. Just as the energies of the Ring can be used to produce fireballs and lighting bolts, the Ring produces dramatic, unnatural weather effects—bursts of fire, acid rain, illusory manifestations, psychic storms. The Ring also produces living spells, which linger for a time before being absorbed back into the Ring. Other native creatures are rare, given the difficulty of surviving in the RIng. However, just as the rakshasa are said to be the children of Khyber, the native celestials of Eberron—the couatl—are said to have been born of Siberys. While most of the couatl sacrificed their existence to bind the overlords, there could be a few powerful celestials still bound to the Ring. Given that Thrane isn’t a major player in the space race, the first explorers could be surprised to discover embodiments of the Silver Flame itself in the Ring of Siberys.

There’s another exotic possibility. Legends speak of the Irsvern—winged kobolds said to be blessed by Siberys. According to these tales the Irsvern live on the peaks of the tallest mountains; but what if they’re actually natives of the Ring of Siberys? What powers might these children of the Ring possess?

Exploring The Moons

Exploring Eberron provides more details about the planes, and will prove a useful resource whether the moons are planar portals or merely strongly influenced by planes. The main difference between the planar portal and the idea of the manifest world is the degree to which the adventurers can have a lasting impact, and the degree to which the world is an entirely new frontier. The planes are known, even if mortals don’t visit them regularly; and the planes cannot be fundamentally changed. On the other hand, manifest worlds are an opportunity to explore entirely new and alien realms—to have first contact with unknown cultures. This is another a way to introduce exotic races or elements from other settings; perhaps loxodons are from Olarune!

Q&A

Does Arrah orbit Eberron? If so, is it much further away than the moons?

There’s no canon answer to this. What we know is that Eberron has traditional seasons (as defined by the calendar)—that Arrah FUNCTIONS in the way we’re used to a sun working. On the one hand, there’s some logic to Eberron being stuck in the center of its sphere (though it could well be that it rotates in that central point and that Arrah is fixed!).

But let’s consider the Progenitor myth, which again, may or may not be exactly true but is still the closest thing we have to an explanation. In the myth, the Progenitors finish their work and rest in the Material Plane. They kindle Arrah as a campfire. They then fight: Siberys is killed, Eberron and Khyber entwined. Arrah exists BEFORE Eberron becomes a world, and I think it’s perfectly logical to say that ARRAH is at the very center of the plane and that Eberron orbits it. Though another sage could argue that the Progenitors were clearly the focal point of creation and that Arrah would have been pulled into their orbit. So like many things in Eberron, I expect that it’s something sages are actively debating in the world itself.

How do the multiple moons of Eberron affect lycanthropes?

The origin of lycanthropy remains a mystery. All lycanthropes are influenced by the moons, but not all in the same way; this suggests that there may be multiple strains of lycanthropy with different origins. The first strain is only affected by the phases of the moon Olarune; this is typically associated with good-aligned lycanthropes. The second strain of lycanthropy is affected by all of the moons, and multiple full moons can cause extreme behavior; this is the effect reported by the templars during the Lycanthropic Purge, and it encourages aggressive behavior and drives victims to quickly succumb to the curse. The third strain of lycanthrope is affected by the moon(s) that were ascendant at the moment of its birth or at the moment it was afflicted; this is common among natural lycanthropes. When adventurers encounter lycanthropes, the DM will have to decide which strain they’re dealing with.

In the past you’ve said that the Gith come from another world… could this be one of the moons?

It’s a possibility, but not the one I personally use. Exploring Eberron goes into more detail about how I use the Gith in my Eberron.

How do the shifter Moonspeakers see the moons? Are they planar portals or more like spiritual guides?

The Moonspeaker druids view the moons as spiritual guides. This doesn’t invalidate the possibility that they are planetoids or portals; the Moonspeakers invoke the spirits of the moons, just as some other druids invoke the spirit of Eberron. With that said, it’s worth noting that this material contradicts the Moonspeaker’s assignment of the moons; I didn’t design the Moonspeaker and I don’t agree with all of its choices.

While the moons correlate with the planes, is there really a correlation with the Dragonmarks, too? The lost moon is tied to Dal Quor, but the lost mark is the Mark of Death, which would have been tied to the same moon as Dolurrh, I would have thought.

There’s a few basic points here. The moons and the planes are both part of creation; they have both existed since the dawn of time. The Dragonmarks have barely existed for three thousand years, and it’s quite possible they were created by the daelkyr. Consider that Crya was lost tens of thousands of years before the Mark of Death even existed! So the ultimate point is that the association of dragonmarks and moons isn’t a concrete, natural FACT as the association of planes and moons is; it’s a superstition, where people have ASSIGNED marks to moons, because hey, twelve marks, twelve moons. And the people who made those assignments may not even know that there once was a thirteenth moon! So it’s possible that people have stumbled onto a cosmic truth in linking these together‚that even those the marks are recent, they tied into this cosmic code. But it could also be entirely speculative.

Having said that, consider what Dolurrh actually is. It’s NOT the “Plane of Death.” Many believe that it is the plane of transition, where the soul leaves its burdens behind and ascends to a higher realm. Aryth is “The Gateway” — and the dragonmark associated with it is the Mark of Passage. The point of this association is that Dolurrh ISN’T actually the destination; it’s a pathway to the unknown realm that lies beyond.

The moons of Eberron are tied to the planes. What about the sun? What’s it tied to?

There is no canon answer to this question, and I’m sure that sages debate it at Arcanix and Korranberg. I’ll give you three answers that all likely have supporters. One is that it represents nothing. It was created by the Progenitors to serve a utilitarian function; it’s the divine campfire. Another is that just as the moons are tied to the planes, the sun represents the MATERIAL plane. A third is tied to the theory that Dolurrh is a gateway that allows people to transition to the Realm of the Sovereigns, a higher realm no mortal can know; some surely believe that Arrah is tied to THAT plane, which is why it’s so much brighter than the moons; it’s a glimpse of the truly celestial realm.

Thanks to my Patreon supporters, who chose this topic and who keep this blog going! How have you used the moons or the space race in your campaign?

What Defines the Mror?

Posted on April 3, 2020 by Keith Baker

Image by Júlio Azevedo for *Exploring Eberron*

In March’s poll, my Patreon supporters selected Mror dwarves as the subject for this article. Exploring Eberron covers the Mror in more depth, delving into the history of the Holds, the cultures of the ruling clans, and further information about the ongoing conflict in Khyber—along with the symbiont that have been claimed as spoils of war. So there’s lots more (Mror!) to look forward to… but today, let’s look at what it means to be Mror.

Dwarves aren’t human. In creating a Mror character it can help to reflect on the ways in which dwarves differ from humanity. Clan plays a significant role in Mror culture, but there’s a few common things that can be born in mind for any Mror character.

DARKVISION

While the dwarves of the Realm Below may have spent their entire lives below the surface, the Mror dwarves were born on the surface of the Ironroot Mountains. Mror dwarves appreciate sunlight and color, and their buildings typically have windows. However, dwarves don’t need light. While in total darkness a dwarf suffers disadvantage on sight-based Perception checks. This is inconvenient, but not unbearable. Areas where people need to do skilled work will have at least dim light. But many mine tunnels and stretches of the Realm Below have no light sources.

A more general impact is that the circadian rhythms of dwarves are more flexible than those of humans. While it’s important to maintain a regular schedule, day and night have little meaning for the Mror. Mror communities are active at all hours, and major Mror businesses are continuously open. “Nightlife” isn’t a concept in Mror society, and entertainment can likewise be found at all hours; traveling Mror are often frustrated by the limited opportunities in human communities.

THE WAR BELOW

Characters from the Five Nations are shaped by the Last War. Mror are shaped by Dol Udar, the War Below. Currently this conflict is simmering, with a stalemate along the deep siege lines, but there has been no victory and the threat remains. When the war was at its height, all Mror lived in daily fear of aberrant attacks and the full resources of the holds were directed to the war effort. The Mror Holds are smaller than the Five Nations, and the impact of the conflict was intense. All civilians engaged in combat drills in preparation for dolgrim assault, and everyone was expected to contribute to the war effort—repairing or producing arms and armor, maintaining fortifications, or fighting.

For the Mror, this is the source of the Weapon Training and Tool Proficiency racial features. In creating a Mror character or NPC, consider how the war affected you and how this is reflected by your class and proficiencies. A few questions to consider…

Did you fight on the front lines, battling aberrations in the depths? If so, what’s the most terrifying thing you saw in the conflict? Are you scarred by your experiences, or does nothing scare you anymore?
If you didn’t fight in the Realm Below, did you serve on any civilian support brigades? Did you spend your childhood sharpening axes and repairing armor (proficiency in smith’s tools) or working on fortifications (mason’s tools)? Were you kept out of the conflict by family connections, or did you refuse to serve?
Who or what did you lose to the conflict? Did you have a stake in a colony or mine that had to be abandoned? Do you have a sibling or lover lost in the depths—and if so, do you know that they’re dead, or could they be prisoners of Dyrrn?
Do you dream of delving deeper into the depths, or would you rather see the Realm Below sealed away forever?

If you use your racial Tool Proficiency for brewer’s tools, you may have been involved in creating supplies for soldiers. However, this is also a common choice for Mror who venture beyond the holds. As mentioned later, the alcohol of the Five Nations is extremely weak by Mror standards, and some consider the ability to brew personal supplies to be a basic survival tool when traveling in foreign lands.

FAMILY FIRST

The Mror Holds are a feudal society. There are twelve active holds. Each is governed by a ruling clan, which gives its name to the hold; Droranathhold is ruled by Clan Droranath. Each hold is then broken up into smaller territories known as spires, each ruled by a clan; there are ancient ties of kinship and marriage between clans and the ruling clan. Within a spire, families maintain tenant relationships with the local clan. Land is held by a clan or family, and most businesses are family businesses. Families are long established, and the creation of an entirely new family is a rare event.

The Mror engage with their history through stories, and clans and families are the characters in those stories. Typically, a Mror tale refers to heroes and villains solely by their family names. So in Mroranon and the Troll King, it doesn’t matter exactly when the story took place or WHICH specific Mroranon it was; it’s a story about Mroranon, and any Mroranon dwarf should strive to live up to that example. Where the Tairnadal elves seek to emulate specific ancestors, Mror dwarves view their family as a greater whole. It’s only natural that you’d help a family member in need, and betraying a family member is like stabbing yourself in the hand. This drives feuds and alliances; if you’re wronged by a Hronnath dwarf, the blame lies with Clan Hronnath, not simply the individual. This reflects the elves in another way. The Aereni elves preserve their ancestors as deathless undead. The Mror don’t feel that need to preserve individuals; you preserve your FAMILY by living up to its character and by adding to its story. The Mror also aren’t as particular about precisely following the traditions of ancestors, as shown by the clans that are currently using symbionts; what you do is less important than the way in which you do it, the values you stand for and the lines you will not cross.

This doesn’t mean that Mror don’t take personal responsibility for their actions or feel pride in their personal deeds. For one thing, the deeds of living dwarves are generally acknowledged by name, as are most events that have occurred within the last century. But looking to your place in history, your name may not be remembered, but you hope that your deeds will be added to the trove of stories told of your family… and that you won’t forever shame your family with the stories of your misdeeds.

In creating a Mror character or NPC, consider your family. Are you part of a clan or ruling clan? If so, are you close enough to power to take the noble background, or are you a lesser heir? Are you from a tenant family, and if so what is your family’s business? Once you’ve considered this, the crucial question is what is the character of your family? While this isn’t as concrete as the Tairnadal, when people tell stories about your family, what are the virtues they highlight? Are there any particular things your family is known for, any celebrated deeds you might emulate, anything a member of your family should never do? Some families do have specific taboos; a Tronnan must never break their word, while a Holladon never turns away a guest. Does your family have any such traditions?

Another thing to consider is how your family was affected by the Dol Udar. Did they invest deeply in the depths, only to suffer grevious loses when the horrors rose? Did they fight on the front lines, or largely remain aboveground? Do they have a family treasure recovered from the Realm Below—a legendary item or artifact you might some day have the honor to wield? Are they willing to embrace symbionts, or are they disgusted by the tools of the daelkyr?

Finally, what is your standing with your family? If it’s good, why have you left the Mror Holds? (Rising From The Last War includes a table with suggestions for this!) If it’s bad, what happened? Is this a situation you hope to fix, or have you turned your back on your family? As a player, you should talk to your DM about the role your family might play in a campaign. Do you want to have cousins showing up in need of assistance or to be drawn into new feuds, or would you rather that your family remain in your backstory?

LONG LIFE, TREASURED STORIES, AND STORIED TREASURES

The Mror attitude toward family is one example of how they deal with their long lives. A dwarf can live to be up to 350 years old. Intellectually they mature at about the same rate as humans, but they generally aren’t considered to be full adults until around 50 years of age. This ties to the fact that dwarves have a low rate of fertility, and their reproductive peak is between 50 and 120. While under fifty, a Mror dwarf is usually learning the family trade and working for their elders; at fifty and above, a dwarf will start thinking about starting their own branch of the family tree and the family trade.

In stark contrast to the elves of Aerenal, the Mror dwarves deal with their long lives by largely ignoring the passage of time: by not trying to record every detail or remember every person, simply holding on to the best moments and ideas. The story matters more than the concrete facts. Individuals come and go, but the family remains and the story continues. Tied to this is the fact that the Mror love stories. Like the dar, the Mror prefer stories to be based on fact as opposed to being absolute fiction… but a story should always be entertaining, and as long as the spirit is true it’s fine to exaggerate a few details. The talespinner bard thus does serve as a keeper of history, but their role as entertainers is as important—if not more so—than their role as sages. In playing a Mror character, you might come up with a few old stories you love. But you may also take joy in dramatically retelling the story of your adventures—the deeds of both you and your fellow adventurers—celebrating and highlighting their finest moments.

Another aspect that has been highlight about the Mror is their love of objects—their love of treasure. In part this ties to a deep appreciation of quality of work. The dwarves appreciate beautiful things, but durability and functionality are far more important—as shown by the willingness of many dwarves to embrace grotesque symbionts. Beyond this, the Mror are deeply interested in objects with stories of their own. Every family has family treasures. Sometimes these are the most powerful magic items the dwarves have acquired, and this is notably the case with artifacts and legendary items that have been recovered from the Realm Below over the last century; part of the pride of the ruling clans is derived from the treasures they can boast of. But a family treasure can also be a mundane item that has been a part of many epic stories. As noted earlier, no one cares which specific Mroranon heir was the hero of Mroranon and the Troll King. But the fact is that the house still has the bracer that hero made from the troll king’s nose-ring, and carrying this relic is a tremendous source of pride. As a Mror adventurer, when you find treasures, you want to know the stories they are already carrying—who forged this Flametongue? What battles has it seen? But beyond that, consider the items you possess that you feel a strong attachment to—and consider whether their stories are evolving along with yours.

GRAND GREETINGS AND GIFTS

Mror dwarves can be seen as boastful by outsiders, quick to share tales of their exploits. The truth of the matter is that they love stories. It’s not that they seek to dominate every conversation with their tales, it’s that they expect others to share their stories as well; and if they don’t, Mror will be quick to boast about the deeds of their companions. Anyone who spends much time around Mror will quickly grow used to the phrase tol kollan—or the Common rendition, “that reminds me of a story.” Mror hate quick meetings; any gathering should have time for tales.

While there are certain families known for their thrift, generosity is an important virtue towards the Mror. As much as they value their storied treasures, there is joy to be had in giving the perfect gift—in showing that you can afford to give away a treasure, and that you recognize someone who will appreciate it and make good use of it. A common tradition at a grand feast is for each of the greatest heroes present—typically, the scions of ruling clans—to offer a gift to the host along with a tale of how they came by the gift; the one who gives the finest gift is served first at the feast.

While you may not attend many feasts, consider this tradition when you have time and opportunity. Is there a chance to give a comrade a perfect gift? Is there a treasure you possess that might be better suited to one of your companions?

FASHION

Clothes tell a story, and Mror dwarves love to tell tales. As with most Mror possessions, the quality of clothing comes first. Because of this, dwarves from lesser families may only have a single set of clothing, but these are durable and well made. With this in mind, Mror place great stock in accessories. A Mror outfit typically has elements that can be reversed, shifted, or removed. Brooches have important cultural significance, and include family crests, the seal of the ruling clan, the symbol of a Sovereign whose favor is sought, or even moods; there are brooches that mean leave me alone and looking for company. Other forms of jewelry—rings, chains, bracelets—are commonly worn by dwarves of all genders. This is an opportunity to show wealth, but decorative ornaments of iron are often worn by common folk. The dultar (“blood blade”) is a dagger worn both as a utilitarian tool and as a statement of allegiance; each of the ruling clans has a distinct style of dultar. Any Mror dwarf can immediately identify another dwarf’s clan from their dultar; for an outsider, this requires an Intelligence (History) check.

Other affectations are tied to clan and family. Some families prefer neatly trimmed beards. Many clans weave beads into facial hair or braids, with the design of the bead invoking the favor of a Sovereign or honoring a clan. Hair dye is often used as a form of personal expression.

Clans that have embraced the used of symbionts—notably Soldorak and Narathun—have developed many exotic fashions over the last century. For such dwarves, wearing symbiont clothing or accessories is a sign of courage and power—much as a hunter might wear the hides of animals they’ve defeated. Living clothing typically has a texture similar to leather, though chitin plating or hornlike protrusions are possible. Patterns or colors may shift to reflect the mood of the wearer; a living cloak may ripple or billow of its own accord. Living clothing is self cleaning and mending, and feeds on the excretions (primarily sweat) of the host. Narathun currently has the finest artisan-breeders working with living clothing, and styles are constantly evolving.

CUISINE

When approaching Mror cuisine, there’s an important thing to keep in mind: Mror dwarves have exceptional constitutions and are resistant to poison. The dwarves live in high mountains and subterranean settlements; while some of their meats and vegetables are familiar to the people of the Five Nations, they also use a wide variety of mushrooms and moss. Red pudding is a form of peaceful ooze raised as livestock. While these are entirely harmless to any creature resistant to poison damage (many Stout halflings of the Talenta Plains enjoy Mror cuisine), Mror stew can sicken creatures with more delicate stomachs.

Alcohol is also a form of poison, and Mror spirits have to be exceptionally strong to satisfy sturdy dwarves. Mror brewers often use mushrooms to produce alcohol, and also produce a number of mushroom-based beverages with light hallucinogenic effects. Most Mror hosts will be careful to keep travelers from buying drinks that could kill them!

RELIGION

Mror talespinners maintain that the dwarves are blessed by the Sovereigns, especially Kol Korran and Onatar. It is a curious coincidence that kol is the Dwarvish word for “commerce,” while dol means “war.” The talespinners say the Traveler stole the names of the Sovereigns from the dwarves during the Exile. The priests of Krona Peak say that Kol Korran came to the hero Mroranon and promised the dwarves wealth and prosperity for as long as they remembered his name and followed his path, while the talespinners of Doldarunhold swear that the hero Doldarun was the child of Dol Dorn and Dol Arrah. The records of the Library of Korranberg show that there were a number of Zil missionaries active in the Ironroots in the centuries before Bal Dulor, and some sages assert that these tales may have been the work of clever missionaries. Whatever the truth, there were already shrines to the Sovereigns when young Karrn led his forces to conquer the holds.

While the Mror broadly acknowledge all of the Sovereigns, Kol Korran and Onatar are the most beloved; Boldrei and Olladra are also often invoked. Clan Doldoran, Mroranon, and Soranath are especially devout, while Droranath, Soldorak, and Toldorath are the most pragmatic. The Blood of Vol and the Dark Six have small followings in Narathun, but other faiths have had little success in the holds.

WHAT ABOUT SUBRACES?

The general population of the Mror Holds includes both hill and mountain dwarves. Rather than being distinct ethnicities, these are primarily a secondary form of background, reflecting the nature of your upbringing. Mountain dwarves typically served in the hold militias and fought in the War Below, hence their Dwarven Armor Training. Hill dwarves were typically civilians, though this isn’t absolute; a fighter with the soldier background and a backstory of service in the war could still be a hill dwarf, as they receive armor proficiency from their class.

The Mark of Warding reflects a blood tie to House Kundarak. While this is typically limited to dwarves of Kundarakhold, Over the course of generations the Kundarak bloodline has spread throughout the holds. Such watered down bloodlines are less likely to produce a dragonmark, but you could play a Mror dwarf from another clan who develops the Mark of Warding. As with other foundlings, the house would typically be glad to accept you as Kundarak; will you embrace that, or do you prefer to maintain your allegiance to the family you were born to?

Exploring Eberron includes a new subrace with a particular (rare) role in the Mror Holds—so that’s something to look forward to!

That’s all for today. Thanks as always to my Patreon supporters. I’ll be posting the poll for the April article on Patreon soon, and we’ll have more short Q&A articles next week!

Dragonmarks: Modern Medicine

Posted on March 16, 2020 by Keith Baker

Could there be a pandemic in Eberron? A plague spread by the Children of Winter, or a bioweapon created by the nosomantic chiurgeons of House Jorasco? How does disease even work in a world where lesser restoration can remove any disease? Given events in our world, these things are on my mind and I thought I’d tackle them with a series of articles. This post will take a quick look at medicine in the Five Nations; a follow-up article will explore the role of disease and plagues in campaigns.

HEALTH AND HEALING

Fifth edition presents a largely abstract view of health. As I’ve mentioned before, hit points are a very nebulous concept—a blend of actual physical health and luck, skill, or willpower. A character can regain hit points by spending hit dice during a short rest, and is fully restored after a long rest. When you use the Medicine skill, all you need to do is role a die. But remember that when we play D&D, we are building a story together. The rules provide a foundation for that story, but it’s up to the DM and players to add the details. MECHANICALLY you’re as good as new after a long rest, and you don’t have to do anything other than hang out for eight hours to get that benefit. But if there’s a character with the Medicine skill in your party, you might tell the story of how that character worked to patch you up during that long rest—how they had to stitch up a particularly deep wound, how they gave you a shot of Irian-infused water to keep you on your feet or rubbed a Mabaran salve on your arm to numb the pain. When someone uses the Medicine skill or an herablism kit, they or the DM can DESCRIBE them as using medical tools or techniques, even if all the PLAYER does is roll a die. The point is that the rules keep things simple; we don’t WANT player characters to spend a long time sitting on the sidelines recovering from a sprained ankle or a broken rib. But you can DESCRIBE that process of recovery in as much detail as you want.

Also, remember that in fifth edition the rules that apply to player characters don’t necessarily apply to NPCs! YOU may recover fully after a long rest, because you’re the protagonist of the story; you’re the hero in the action movie who keeps pushing on after enduring ridiculous amounts of damage. But the DM can say that an NPC takes longer to recover from a serious wound—that a city guard will need days of bedrest to recover after being dropped to zero hit points, even if they were stabilized and healed. Player characters are remarkable. We can highlight this by showing that other people DO need more time to recuperate than player characters… or their particularly remarkable opponents.

JORASCO SERVICES

In the Five Nations, most people rely on House Jorasco for medical services. As I’ve discussed in previous articles, priests in most temples and churches aren’t spellcasters; they provide spiritual guidance, not spellcasting services. So the Jorasco healing house serves the common role of a clinic or hospital in our world. Villages or communities that don’t have a dedicated healing house will still usually have a Jorasco-trained healer, whether it’s an heir of the house or someone who learned their skills from the Healer’s Guild.

Page 10 of Rising From The Last War lists the services you can obtain from House Jorasco. The first two are tied to the Medicine skill: Minor nonmagical care or major nonmagical care. This ties back to the idea that just because PLAYER CHARACTERS don’t have to deal with sprains, concussions, broken bones, and such, these things still exist in the world! Likewise, most people rely on nonmagical treatment for diseases. Lesser restoration provides an instant cure, but the 50 gp cost is beyond the reach of most commoners. But again: there’s nothing wrong with nonmagical care. The skill is called MEDICINE; it reflects the use of medicines and medical techniques—setting broken bones, disinfecting wounds, treating fevers, and on and on. Again, most player characters never need these things; but the common people do, and Jorasco provides these services.

Then we get to magical services. Lesser restoration costs 50 gp; remove curse is 75 gp; greater restoration is 150 gp. Who provides these services? What does this help actually look like? Here again, player characters are remarkable. The typical Jorasco healer isn’t a cleric; they’re a magewright. Per page 318 of Rising From The Last War, a magewright casts lesser restoration as a ritual that takes an hour and that requires “additional material components” that cost up to 40 gp. MECHANICALLY this is a “ritual that requires components.” But this is where the idea of arcane science enters the picture. I don’t see a Jorasco healer as sitting next to you chanting for that hour, and then POOF you’re healed. In my opinion, the “ritual” reflects medical work. They may be using divining rods and Irian salves instead of CAT scans and antibiotics, but they are starting with a foundation of mundane skill and then ADDING magic to accelerate the effects and perform healing that is impossible with skill alone. You can have the Jorasco chiurgeon shouting “I need a Lamannian rod and 5 cc’s of Mabaran moss, STAT!” as they work to break your curse or cure your disease. Likewise, the spell uses “40 gp of additional components”—but those components might be ENTIRELY DIFFERENT depending on WHAT they are treating. So: mechanically, a Jorasco healer can cure cackle fever or sewer plague by casting lesser restoration. But how they cure these two different diseases might LOOK entirely different. And once you accept the idea that different diseases require different components to treat them, you have the possibility that a Jorasco house could run out of the components needed to cure a specific disease! Now, refined Eberron shards can take the place of any costly component, and this can help with an outbreak; but if you’re in an isolated village, residuum could be harder to find than Mabaran moss. To be clear, this isn’t a concern for player characters. When your cleric casts lesser restoration it’s NOT a ritual and doesn’t require components… but again, that’s because player characters are remarkable!

How does the Mark of Healing factor into this? The simple answer is that most magewrights with the Healer specialty are assumed to be halflings with the Mark of Healing; they are able to master this specialty because they have the mark, and they are channeling the powers of the mark any time they cast their rituals. This is the same as the concept that you could play a Jorasco Life cleric who presents their healing magic as being drawn from their mark as opposed to religious faith. So they ARE using the mark to heal; it’s just that this uses standard magewright mechanics.

All of these same principles apply to the other services that Jorasco offers. Remove curse can be presented as a sort of magical infection. It’s not that the Jorasco healer mumbles for an hour and the curse stops; it’s that they perform a sort of mystical surgery, literally carving the curse out of your aura. While the RULES say remove curse never fails when cast on a player character, it’s still possible that it doesn’t always work on NPCs and that it’s normally potentially dangerous! Note that greater restoration is a 5th level spell—beyond the standard wide magic available in the Five Nations—and that Rising notes that only Jorasco’s finest healers can perform the ritual.

And finally, there’s raise dead. This is supposed to be a rare service, something available only at the finest Jorasco houses. This is typically tied to a focus item, the altar of resurrection. But there’s a number of points that have been spread out across various sourcebooks. The first is the idea that again, while Raise Dead always works on PLAYER CHARACTERS, it’s NOT reliable for NPCs! First of all, memory starts to fade as soon as a soul reaches Dolurrh. Someone has to CHOOSE to return to life… and if they’ve spend too much time in Dolurrh, they may no longer remember why they want to return. Even if they wish to return, sometimes the spell just doesn’t work. Sometimes it can restore life but draw the wrong soul back into the body. Or it may summon a number of hostile ghosts while leaving the corpse dead… or draw a marut that seeks to destroy the would-be healer. This is why wealthy people AREN’T automatically raised immediately after death; because for most people it simply isn’t a valid argument. What we’ve said is that IF a Jorasco house has the ability to raise the dead, they will always cast augury before raise dead… and if the proposed resurrection draws a result of woe, they will refuse to take the case. Essentially, raise dead is a tool that lets us bring player characters and crucial villains back from the dead; but it’s not a service for everyone! This is a topic I’ve discussed in more detail before: this article explores resurrection and alternatives to death, while this article considers the idea that you could add a personal price to resurrection beyond the components of the spell.

WHAT ABOUT FAITH HEALING?

As I’ve said: in the Five Nations, people don’t go to temples to be healed, they go to hospitals. But what about places like Thrane, where divine magic is more widespread? Or the Eldeen Reaches, where there’s more of an emphasis on primal magic than on the industrial magic of House Jorasco?

The Wayfinder’s Guide to Eberron discusses the idea of adepts, divine or primal counterparts to arcane magewrights. Page 127 of Rising notes that “divine adepts provide important services.” There still ARE Jorasco houses in Thrane, it’s simply that divine magic IS more widespread. You still wouldn’t go to the temple and ask the priest to cure you, but there are clinics tied to the Church of the Silver Flame where adepts can heal you. Such clinics can also be found in other nations, typically tied to adepts of Olladra; in the Eldeen Reaches, there are druidic adepts—often called gleaners—who may be able to perform healing rituals. The magic of an adept LOOKS different than that of a magewright; a Silver Flame adept will chant while they treat you, while seeking to excise malign influences with blades of light. But a critical point is that mechanically there’s no difference between an adept and a magewright, which means that this healing still takes an hour to perform and still costs the adept 40 gp. The components may be DIFFERENT than those used by the arcane magewright, but the point is that magically healing generally can’t be offered for free because it’s not free for the caster. In the Eldeen Reaches, it’s not that a druid spends 40 gp to buy components; it’s that the ritual consumes rare roots and herbs (likely charged with the essence of Lamannia or Irian) that would have such a value if they had to buy them. Usually people rely on the Medicine skill because magic has a price.

Q&A

Is the germ theory of disease known in Eberron? Or is there some truth to the humoral theory in a fantasy world where the four elements are more of a real thing than in our own? This would come into play in order to determine such behaviour as hand-washing and sterilisation of instruments or blood letting. For that matter, is there room for alternative medicines, rejecting that of Jorasco?

To answer the last question first, there’s DEFINITELY room for alternative theories and approaches to medicine. I expect that Riedra and Aerenal have dramatically different approaches to medicine. However, the crucial point is that MECHANICALLY this all works out to using the Medicine skill and to the benefits of resting. You can DESCRIBE it with exotic color, but at the end of the day it doesn’t MATTER if your healer is using Jorasco traditions or Riedran qi manipulation; the result is the same.

Going back to the first part of the question, this touches on an interesting point. Because it’s not simply whether the people of Eberron are familiar with germ theory, it’s the question of are most diseases in Eberron actually caused by germs? This is a world where werewolves, undead, and fiends are REAL THREATS. Lycanthropy isn’t caused by germs, and there could be any number of other diseases in Eberron that are actually cause by a mild form of demonic possession or by transmutation effects. There’s definitely a school of medicine that is based on the balance between planar influences, asserting that if you have a fever it’s because your Fernian influences are too high and you need to be treated with Risian ice… And in Eberron, that may be true. So there are germborne diseases in Eberron, but it’s not the ONLY form of disease out there and may not be the foundation of Jorasco treatment. I’ll talk more about kinds of diseases in the follow-up article, but the main point is, again, that this is somewhat cosmetic. Whether the disease is caused by a germ or an evil spirt, you counter it with rest, Medicine, or lesser restoration. These treatments are all tied to theories of medicine, but whichever theory you use, it will work according to the rules. Though you’re certainly free to say Bloodletting is a terrible principle that DOESN’T work, and while there are healers who perform bloodletting, they aren’t proficient in the Medicine skill and provide no actual benefits! Likewise, Jorasco potions of healing are reliable, but if you buy your healing potions from some unlicensed charlatan, you could find that all you’ve bought is snake oil. Trust that Jorasco logo!

Do the people of Eberron know how to prevent/treat scurvy or what it really is?

This is similar to the preceding question, and could ultimately be asked about any disease from our world. But Eberron’s not our world. For all we know, the Ring of Siberys could radiate an aura of vitamin C, and it could be impossible to have a C deficiency in Eberron. There’s no rules for scurvy in 5E, and it’s never been mentioned as a problem in any sourcebook, so the default is that it’s not a problem—either because it’s been identified and people know how to deal with it, or because for some reason ((C-rays from the Ring of Siberys!) it’s just not an issue. I’ll talk about this more in the follow-up post, but the short form is that you need to decide what diseases you want to be threats, and ultimately what makes a good story. Personally, I don’t feel that players running out of oranges and catching scurvy is a story I want to tell, but that shouldn’t stop you from doing so!

If magewrights can carve a curse out of a person’s aura, was this ever suggested as a solution during the Lycanthropic Inquisition by Jorasco or the Silver Flame’s own minor healers?

Certainly. Under the rules of fifth edition, that’s EXACTLY how you treat lycanthropy: you cast remove curse, and if you’re doing it as a magewright ritual that means you’re performing just this sort of spiritual surgery. However, there’s a few factors here as regards the Silver Crusade…

Bear in mind that especially early on, I’m sure the templars DID cure people when they had the ability to do so. It simply wasn’t viable as an overall solution to the problem, based on resources, the number of lycanthropes, and the fact that you would have to capture and hold lycanthropes alive to do this—and especially in the early days of the Purge, the odds were stacked against the Templars. They didn’t have the luxury of trying to take most of their enemies alive; they were lucky if THEY could stay alive.
If you’re using magewrights or adepts, you need 60 gp worth of specialized components to cast that ritual. What are those components? Are they specialized to each type of lycanthropy (IE, you need to treat a wereboar with different herbs than a wererat), or general? It’s quite reasonable to say that when the Crusade began the templars didn’t have either full knowledge of proper treatment or that they simply didn’t have access to sufficient supplies of the appropriate components—and this was before the residuum revolution which lets you use refined dragonshards instead of any component.
Critically: Lycanthropy during the Purge was different from lycanthropy as it exists today. This is literally true, as the rules for curing lycanthropy in 3.5 rules are far more difficult that just casting remove curse. It either has to be done by a 12th level cleric within three days of the affliction (and 12th level clerics are VERY rare in Eberron) or it has to be attempted during a full moon… and the victim has to make a DC 20 Will save for it to work. Eberron gets a lot of full moons, but still, that’s a lot of time and resources for a ritual that has a very high chance of not working.

The simplest explanation for the change in the rules of lycanthropy is that lycanthropy itself has changed: that the power of the curse is now weaker than it was during the purge, because the influence of the overlord or daelkyr behind the surge has faded… or alternatively, because techniques for treating lycanthropy have advanced significantly over the last century. Either way, lycanthropy can now be effectively treated by a magewright performing remove curse; that doesn’t change the fact that it wasn’t a viable solution to the problem at the height of the purge.

That’s all for now! When time allows, I’ll write a follow-up article about using disease in an Eberron campaign, but my Patreon supporters will decide the topic of the next article. Until then, wash your hands!

Dragonmarks: Gnolls and the Znir Pact

Posted on February 29, 2020 by Keith Baker

Art by Mariana Suarez Otero for *Eberron Expanded*

In the dawn of time, before the Sovereigns and the Silver Flame, Eberron was the domain of the fiendish overlords. This was an age of chaos, as the overlords constantly clashed with one another. The Rage of War commanded armies of fiends and savages, while the Wild Heart raised hordes of ravenous beasts. In the struggles between the two, the Wild Heart bred dire hyenas that could consume the Zakya warriors of Rak Tulkhesh. But fiends cannot be permanently slain by tooth or claw; their energy remains. Twisted from within by the immortal essence of the demons they’d devoured, the hyenas were warped into something entirely new, something that was neither beast or demon: and so the first gnolls were born.

Formed from both War and the Wild, the first gnolls were recruited and bred by both Rak Tulkhesh and the Wild Heart. As foot soldiers of the overlords they fought against orcs and the other early humanoids, as well as battling gnoll clans serving other overlords. Even after the overlords were defeated and bound by the Silver Flame, gnolls continued to be pawns of the overlords. The fiendish spark burned within them, and when they weren’t directly serving the Lords of Dust, most gnolls engaged in savage acts of brutality. The Dhakaani goblins ruthlessly exterminated gnolls in imperial territories, driving them back into the wilds.

In the present day gnolls are primarily found on the west coast of Khorvaire. Here’s a few notable concentrations of gnolls.

Gnolls are found across the Demon Wastes. Some have integrated into the Carrion Tribes, while other clans refuse to have anything to do with other creatures. These gnolls have embraced the Rage of War and engage in endless, ecstatic violence; when there are no outsiders to fight, they find reasons to battle the other clans. There have been times in the past when a great leader has united them and lead a horde through the Labyrinth, and this could happen again; but for the most part they are one of the ongoing dangers of the Demon Wastes, ever hungry to spill blood in the name of Rak Tulkhesh.
The gnolls of the Towering Wood are creatures of the Wild Heart. These feral hunters prowl through the Eldeen Reaches, preying on any creatures who cross their paths. These gnolls rarely organize beyond clans. The fact that they don’t form armies limits the overall threat that they pose to the people of the Towering Woods; they’ve never amassed in sufficient numbers to threaten the Greenheart, for example. But because they’re scattered and mobile, the Wardens of the Wood and the shifter tribes of the Towering Woods have never been able to end the threat. Clans melt away into the depths, appearing to strike isolated villages and travelers. Some say that there is a piece of the Towering Wood that can only be found by gnolls and lycanthropes who serve the Wild Heart—a dark haven where these feral forces build their strength and wait to strike.
There at least two gnoll clans that live deep in the King’s Forest of Breland. While smaller than the clans of the Towering Wood, these gnolls are likewise driven by the Wild Heart; they are cruel hunters who take pleasure in terrifying their quarry. Typically they remain in the wildest, darkest depths of the King’s Forest, avoiding the Knight Rangers and restricting their attacks to those fools who stray far from the safe paths. But there have been times when their numbers have grown, and when gnoll raiders have emerged from the Forest to prey on surrounding villagers.

While savage gnolls are often tied to the Rage of War or the Wild Heart, few know those names. Clans are guided by warlocks and fiendish visions, and each clan has its own name for the power that fuels their thirst for blood. The gnolls of Rak Tulkhesh show more martial discipline, while the gnolls of the Wild Heart are feral and cunning. Both are uniformly cruel, taking pleasure not simply in spilling blood but in instilling terror in their prey. The last great raid across the Labyrinth was centuries ago, but the people of Aundair still share grisly tales of the horrors unleashed by the pillaging gnolls, and Brelish children know gnolls devour those fools who stray from the path. This uniform cruelty is unusual in Eberron, where goblins are often more honorable than humans and orcs may be champions of the light. But gnolls aren’t natural creatures; they were shaped by overlords, and the essence of demons flows through their veins. They were bred to spill blood and sow terror, and for countless generations they gleefully embraced that path. But there are gnolls who reject the foul influence of their creators… such as the Znir Pact of Droaam.

THE ZNIR PACT

The region now known as Droaam has long been home to gnoll clans. The Rage of War seeks endless battle, and when there is no greater conflict it delights in setting its minions against one another. For countless generations, gnolls fought troll, ogre, and other gnolls seeking blood for their hungry idols. Centuries ago two gnolls from rival clans faced one another on a battlefield soaked in the blood of their kin and questioned the path that had led them there. The two urged others to deny the voice that called for endless war, to refuse to chase death in the service of a fiend. Two became four, then eight, until entire clans heeded the call. Clan leaders dragged their idols to the place now known as Znir—a word that simply means stone—and there they shattered the images of the fiends they once served. Together the gathered hunters, shamans, and warriors swore an oath: They might be many clans, but from this day forward they would be one pack. They would allow no one—not chieftain, god, or demon—to hold dominion over them.

This was easier said than done. Fighting the fiendish influence within was challenging enough, but the western wilds were a chaotic tapestry of battling forces. The leaders of the newly forged Pact had no desire to rule over other creatures, but even just holding their territory would invite attack. And so they developed the path that has carried them forward to this day: the road of the mercenary. The gnolls would claim no territory beyond the lands around Znir. They would fight for any who would pay a fair price. But if anyone sought to enslave a gnoll, or to strike against Znir itself, they would face the wrath of all of the united clans. This was a lesson that had to be taught many times, but after a century or so, the point was made. To those who paid them, the gnolls were as reliable as stone. Those who betrayed them or who picked a fight would fall before the might of the full Pact.

Some scholars of the Five Nations find it strange that the Znir Pact never took the path of conquest. There was no parallel to the united force of the Pact within the region, and they could have defeated the various chieftains and warlords they served. But the fact is that the gnolls have never had a desire to rule other creatures. They love the hunt and the thrill of battle. The path of the Pact allows them to do what comes naturally—to stalk and kill, to fight endless battles. But they do so together. They choose the paths they follow and the battles they fight. One could look at the Pact and say that they serve many masters. But the Znir gnoll would respond that they serve only themselves: that they choose who they fight for, that they set the terms of their service.

Znir Clans

The Znir gnolls include a dozen different clans, each of which holds onto distinct traditions. Once the clans were devoted to different faces of the overlords, but when they shattered the statue, each clan chose one of the moons. All gnolls hunt and fight, but the Barrakas are known to be the finest trackers of the Pact; the Aryth the deadliest archers; and the Olarune are the strongest warriors and most forceful in the vanguard. Typically, mercenary units are comprised of gnolls of a single clan, assigned based on the nature of the task that lies ahead, and contracts are usually negotiated for a period based on cycles of the clan’s moon. The clans maintain distinct territories within the Znir region. Despite this, all gnolls are welcome around the hearth of any clan; the Znir take pains to crush any tension that arrises between the clans. Shamans and leaders from each clan maintain a council at the Znir, around the broken idols. Here they mediate disputes, assign contracts to clans, and allocate funds and equipment. The Eyre clan have honed their skills as smiths and tanners, and they craft much of the equipment used by the Znir gnolls… though there is still a strong tradition of scavenging among the Znir, and warriors will often claim trophies from fallen foes.

Gnoll vs Gnoll

Droaam is a small place, and the Znir will serve any who will pay a fair price. This inevitably leads to conflict between Znir gnolls. In such situations, Znir will fight one another with all their skill. But they will strike to wound… and a gnoll wounded by another gnoll will immediately withdraw from battle, no matter how superficial the wound. While some clients take umbrage at this—You can still fight! Get back out there!—this is an absolute rule of all Znir contracts, and those who defy this will be punished by the united clans.

In general, the Znir take their contracts seriously. If the client breaks the terms of the agreement, the contract immediately ends. As long as terms are met, Znir will face any danger and will never betray a client. They have earned this reputation over the course of centuries, and this gives them a place much like the Sentinel Marshals of House Deneith in Khorvaire; everyone knows that the word of the Znir is as unbreakable as stone.

The Daughters and Tharashk

In their rise to power, the Daughters of Sora Kell have contracted for fully half of the forces of the Znir Pact (divided among all clans). This is an extended contract, under which the gnolls serve both as soldiers, hunters, and peacekeepers. Most large communities have a Znir garrison that’s serving the Daughters. These troops are present to protect the region from brigands or invaders, and to help maintain order. But they serve the Daughters, not the local warlord; it’s understood that if the warlord turns against the Daughters, the local Znir will act in their interests. The remainder of the Pact serves other masters. Many warlords maintain their own Znir forces, either as bodyguards, enforcers, or hunters. House Tharashk has also begun brokering the services of Znir gnolls within the Five Nations. The Pact is still cautious about this arrangement, however. Within Droaam, Znir customs are known and respected, and the Znir can unite against anyone who defies them. The Znir recognize that they don’t hold such power over the rulers of the Five Nations… and thus they are concerned about serving so far from their stones. In addition to those who serve through House Tharashk, a number of Znir have been sent east to study the Five Nations, gathering knowledge of its people and customs so the Znir council can determine how to engage with the wider world. This scouting role is a reasonable path for a gnoll player character; it’s their job to travel the world beyond and learn its ways, and to make friends and allies.

The Demon Within

The Znir defied the overlords when they shattered their statues, but there is still a spark of a fiend in the blood of each gnoll. Znir refuse to allow the demon within to hold dominion over them. Young gnolls learn how to resist this influence—to channel the strength of the fiend without giving it power over them. For most gnolls this is simply a matter of discipline. Znir gnolls are known for remaining calm in the face of provocation; having learned to fight their own demons, they aren’t easily manipulated by mortals. However, some gnolls learn to draw on their unnatural heritage and to channel this power in useful ways. Znir gnolls have their own equivalents of rangers and barbarians; the ranger’s primal magic draws on the Wild Heart, while the barbarian channels the fury of the Rage of War. Znir shamans are similar to warlocks, typically following the path of the Fiend. However, in all of these examples, the Znir don’t serve the dark power. Rather, they can be seen as stealing their strength from it; learning to draw on it without giving anything in return.

In their determination not to let fiendish forces hold dominion over their people, the Znir gnolls have also developed their own techniques for fighting supernatural threats. Champions trained to face fiends and undead are known as hwyri, and wield powers similar to those of paladins in other lands. However, hwyri don’t worship any divine power. Their abilities come from training and understanding of the demon within; they aren’t crusaders, they’re mercenary demon hunters. Most hwyri come from the Vult clan, and in a land that shuns the Silver Flame, these gnolls can be the best hope for people facing fiendish threats. There has been some tension between the Vult and the lycanthropes of the Dark Pack; the Vult shamans suspect that the Pack is vulnerable to the influence of the Wild Heart.

ZNIR GNOLL TRAITS

Exploring Eberron will include my rules for Znir gnoll player characters. For the moment, here’s a few general tips on playing a Znir gnoll.

Bone Eaters. Gnolls possess powerful jaws, as reflected by their bite attack. Gnolls can chew through and digest bone, and dislike letting food go to waste. When savage gnolls raid a village, they will consume even the bones of their victims. Znir gnolls won’t eat their fallen foes if they’re in the company of creatures who will be uncomfortable with such behavior. But they will often eat a small piece of any creature they slay—even if it’s just a finger—to form a bond with the victim. The Znir believe that those you kill wait for you in the realm of death, and honoring them ensures that they won’t be hungry when you travel to that land.
Pack Instincts. Gnolls have very strong pack instincts. They instinctively work together in combat, and they think nothing of placing themselves in harm’s way to protect their kin. Znir gnolls will not deceive members of their pack; if there are problems, they will call them out directly. If a gnoll character adopts a group of adventurers as their temporary pack, these things apply to the other players—but they will be surprised and angry if their non-gnoll packmates don’t show them the same respect.
Casual Aggression. Gnolls often seem very aggressive to other creatures. However, gnolls themselves don’t consider casual intimidation to be a hostile act; it’s just a way to establish a place in the hierarchy of the pack, largely ignored once that hierarchy is established. One of the most common ways this manifests is that gnolls make demands rather than requests. As a gnoll, use active statements rather than passive queries.
Cunning Hunters. Gnolls are strong and aggressive by nature. But both the Znir gnolls and there savage kin are cunning hunters rather than simple brutes. Gnolls work together as a pack, always searching for weaknesses in enemies and supporting injured allies. Znir goals won’t break their word, but they don’t hold to any idea of honorable conduct on the battlefield; they are ruthless and efficient, and see nothing wrong with ambushing or tricking a superior foe. Some gnolls have a supernatural knack for minicry, and will use this gift to draw enemies into danger.
The Fiend Within. As a gnoll, there is a spark of demonic influence within you. The Znir learn to control this at an early age. But how does it manifest in you? Do you suppress it completely, or do you channel it in some way—possibly reflected by your class abilities? Are you a hwyri who seeks to fight supernatural threats, or are you not concerned with such things?

That’s all I have time for today, but you’ll find more about gnolls and the Znir Pact in Exploring Eberron! Thanks to my Patreon supporters, who keep this site going and who chose this topic!