Seven Strange Items
Fragments from Adamiir (Series | Part 1: White Stone Archivists)
This article was originally written in September 2024.
It has since been edited and reformatted to kick off a new series of items, NPCs, and locations found in Adamiir that can be inserted into your own campaigns or used for inspiration.
This article contains 7 strange items. Do with them what you will.
An excerpt from Requisitioner Yurel, formerly Head Archivist II at the White Stone Tree archives
I knew not the precise manner in which Eleran stumbled upon these artifacts, nor did I possess the desire to pry further into his methods.
A common refrain among Moonfolk, Mistlander, and Cinderian alike is that the shattered isles of Adamiir were not wrought by a vindictive god but rather a merciful one. I have no clues as to how this became a common myth; I only know that this idea has always sent a chill down my spine. Enough to keep me from venturing into the tunnels and vaults and haunted places alone or deliberately studying the items that malign there.
At the very least, not since I turned in my cowl, pin, and archivist’s bar. Eleran, however, has never been one to heed such warnings.
Like many other Delvers, he hungers for knowledge and answers that perhaps no living being should possess. That drives him to explore those elf-forsaken places with reckless abandon.
It is the way it has always been and the way, as long as Ilanth the Seeker determines our bodies of research, it always will be. And so, despite my apprehension, I was tasked with cataloging the fruits of Eleran’s endeavors—a brief account of which is provided below.
A word of caution then, before you begin:
Of the seven items I cataloged, six were promptly removed by Ilanth, who deemed them worthy of further scrutiny.
His actions were swift and without explanation, leaving me to wonder whether his interest was purely academic or whether other forces were at play.
Attempts to inquire further were met with silence.
Whatever the case, these relics are now beyond my reach, locked away in chambers far from prying eyes. Perhaps it is better that way.
Eleran’s findings have left me with far more questions than answers.
In the century since the War of Iron and Silver ended, the grounded Blackhand spire-ships have sunk lower into the mires of the Mistlands.
Reports claim the iron in the ancient ships has reacted with the water, causing formations to grow in some of the deepest bowels of the vaults. Vault delvers can pinpoint such growths by the water feeling “heavier” than it should and emanating a light that can make a man sick to the point of vomiting if he stares too long at it.
As Eleran claims, a key may grow in the heart of such formations.
But to what lock does a grown key open?
There are rumors of songs sung into the fabric of magick itself—songs whose words drive those who hear them to obsession. Such songs take a shine to mundane objects, like old rusted swords or hearthstones. Magicians and their ilk are most susceptible to these Deep Songs, as they are most likely to fall prey to any magickal oddity.
Eleran’s record states he had found this among a trove of other such items, but the scene at which they were found induced such horror in his companions they departed before further exploration could occur.
I did not dare ask what was seen, nor did he move toward offering his recollection freely.
Many Moonfolk (Sisters, druids, and shamans alike) claim dryadhearts allow one to bypass death by way of nature itself. If quick enough, one’s heart can be discarded and replaced with this heart of wood—effectively offering another chance at life.
Of course, the Moonfolk fail to account for what lives these twice-born live. There are little records of them, and for good reason. Ask the dead of Lost Dampmoor how they feel about the twice-born, particularly of Irilukar the Drowned and the deep wraith marauders that followed them.
Eleran states this dryadheart was claimed from the corpse of one of these marauders, but there are significant gaps in the story that are worth noting. Additional references and the few records that exist on twice-born are attached.1
The process of creating a dead figurine is as barbaric as it is shrouded in esotericism.
To begin, a living body is prepared by covering it with viscous minnow tree sap. Then, a small hole is dug at least twice as small as the subject of the ritual. The living body is placed into the small hole as tightly as possible and then overladen with large stones until it is forced wholly into the smaller area. The body is extracted, and the process is repeated many times until the desired size is achieved.2
p.s: I can offer additional information on this item as it was the only one left by Ilanth for me. Dead figurines are relatively uncommon but not unheard of—particularly in cult towns across the Mistlands. I have no doubt the ritual finds its origins in the warlock kingdom of Erpath.
But what haunts me is what I witnessed the last night the figurine was in my possession:
I was roused from slumber in White Stone by a loud whine. I quickly located the source to the dead figurine, which had somehow escaped from the locked container I kept it in, and found its way to the flames of my hearth. There it stood, close enough to the heat that I could see steam and hear squelching pops from the thing's “skin”. An acrid tang filled the room as the figure stretched, its whine increasing in volume. Perverse curiosity gripped my soul as I watched the thing shift and warp and finally turn to face me.
I have no words for what I saw in its visage, nor will I attempt to find them.
I stumbled backward, knocking over a chair. The whine was unbearable, loud and grating like nails on glass. And then, as quickly as it had begun, the figurine tipped into the hearth and disappeared entirely. It left no ash, smoke, or visible sign that it had ever existed.
But the smell persisted. I requested a room change and after a requisitioner came and smelled why, I was approved. Last I heard, the room had been completely demolished.
Even still, it is a smell that will follow me to the grave.
Mind stones come in various materials, from sandstone to alchemical metals to false crystals, and are not inherently born of the Gemfolk. Pure crystal mind stones, however, are born from them and are the most powerful magick tuners. They say they connect directly to the Visitor nestled in the Crystal Fangs.
Based on other records of encounters with Gemfolk, I find it hard to believe Eleran encountered such a creature—let alone one of the Red variety. To make matters even more unbelievable, he claims the Gemfolk offered its mind stone freely to him.
Truly ludicrous.
Cindervale knights historically used to carry brittlepoints, but their use in today’s age is frowned upon and considered dishonorable due to the length of time the fragments linger in the wound and because magick seems not to affect the material.
It is my understanding that these weapons were gathered and are currently held in the vaults at Cindervale Keep, to the south near Darkenhold. Of course, one does go missing once in a while. I suspect Eleran traded one to a Cindervalian rogue or a well-connected blackmerchant.
An aside: Years back, a colleague in the Quarters of the Good Lady told me that brittlepoint wounds are nearly impossible to heal and can, Elfs forgive, even spread to others.
One should be wary of those who find that a selling point.
Much has been discussed on what the necromancer-lords of Taklan sought in the Beyond, but their souljars themselves are fascinating to behold. Soul-binding is hardly a new practice; evidence of its existence harkens even to when the Moon still roamed the sky.
But the exact purpose of binding these canopic jars is odd—the souls are not meant to empower or augment; in fact, they’re not meant to be interacted with at all. This contrasts with typical binding purposes, such as empowering a weapon or suit of armor.
This particular souljar is marked by bas reliefs of strange events our archivists cannot quite make sense of:
The fall of Darkenhold (50~ years ago)
The fall of Ferigal’s Tower of Dreaming (has not yet occurred)
The fall of the Gilded Houses of the Solothi (millennia, if not eons ago).
Why these particular places? Why their falls? Never mind the fact that the jar is frigid to the touch. Typically, a souljar is quite warm (if not hot) to the touch, as the soul inside is active in motion.
This jar seems to have little to no motion at all. It is cold enough to the touch that, on more than one occasion while cataloging it, I witnessed frost on its seal. The frost would recede shortly after I glimpsed it.
In all honesty, I do not know how Eleran found this. I worry that we invite the dead to our doorstep by keeping it here.
It bears repeating that these attachments were taken with the items in question and are no longer part of the broader White Stone archive.
Again, the victim is quite alive and, due to the hallucinogenic properties of the sap, quite delirious throughout the entire ritual. Eleran recorded that, during the ritual, the victim sang a high-pitched song in the Erpathian tongue. They sang far beyond what Eleran thought would be possible for the body to endure—at least fifteen iterations. The body then grew silent as the process was repeated four more times before Eleran was gifted the figure as a show of respect.
Ugh. That “Brittlepoint Dagger sounds horrible. It’s cool as hell… but also horrible.