Languages in the Green Coast

Dozens of languages are spoken throughout the Green Coast, and most languages have distinct regional accents and even full-fledged dialects. Though the lingua franca is Aethron, frequently called the Common Tongue or Common, most races have their own languages that they prefer to use when with each other. In addition to the civilized races, the savage races have a myriad of languages and the races that live under the ocean waves also possess their own, unique means of communicating.

Green Coast Calendar

Even with much of the Green Coast’s history lost to time, a ­long and storied history has been recorded. Though several groups claim to have created it, most scholars agree that the current calendar was put into widespread use by the priestesses of Aelma. Each year has 367 days divided into 11 months. Each month has either 33 or 34 days, split by 7-day weeks.

The first month of the year, Chazron, begins the day after the summer solstice. The following months are Aesto, Noth, Dartos, Moros, Lethis, Krynik, Estas, Vorn, Aras, and Lystmel. Chazron, Dartos, Estas, and Lystem have 34 days while the remaining months have 33. Like our world, a week is seven days, though the names for the days of the week differ: Firstday, Mythday, Valeday, Wheatday, Stormday, Aleday, and Lastday. Below you will find a calendar for the current year: 1097 of the Age of Northern Expansion.

Akkardon: Port by the Storm

Akkardon

LG metropolis

Corruption +2, Crime +0, Economy +4, Law +4, Lore +3, Society +0

Qualities academic, prosperous, tourist attraction

Danger 10

Demographics

Government Overlord (King Sargoth IV)

Population 39,531 (12,639 merfolk, 10,673 tabemisu, 7,115 squoros, 3,953 zang, 3,162 koup’ira, 1,581 dohrnii, 408 other)

Notable NPCs

Royal Mystic Advisor Gilgorthanto (LG old bronze dragon)

Grand Hierophant Hamurbai (NG tabemisu medium 9)

Zikur Albyn, Head of the Blackfin Mercenary Company (NE zang barbarian 15)

Marketplace

Base Value 13,000 gp; Purchase Limit 75,000 gp; Spellcasting 6^th

Minor Items 4d4; Medium Items 3d4; Major Items 2d4

The largest city outside of the koup’ira kingdoms in the Cyan Shelf, Akkardon is located within a large bay near two major currents from both the north and the south. The Trade Spires each stretch at minimum twenty feet above the surface, even during high tide, so as to facilitate the blue-haired surfacers that come to trade. The Royal Quarters also breaks the waterline, allowing them to sleep without fear of drowning.

     Despite what King Sargoth and the authorities would claim, several powerful crime syndicates operate in the shadowy depths of the city. A black market thrives, selling poisons, surfacer artifacts, and things taken from the dark depths of the ocean past the Long-Drop, where the Cyan Shelf ends and the ocean desert begins.

Race: Zang

Zang

Considered to be the fiercest warriors on the Cyan Shelf, the semi-nomadic zang roam the seas in large clans. Though many fear the zang due to their ferocity in defending their hunting grounds from any perceived trespassers, none would deny their dedication to fighting the sahuagin. On more than one occasion, a zang has boastfully claimed that the sahuagin would have overrun the Cyan Shelf centuries ago if not for the clans. Many scholars from elsewhere on the shelf agree.

A Letter to Admiral Tarath Longinus

To Admiral Tarath Longinus,

     Per your request, I have located a member of one of the many zang clans that is willing to speak with a surfacer. Finding one was much more difficult than I originally anticipated, and I am now writing to you from a mostly sunken city called, assuming that the translation potions are working correctly, Akkardon. From what I can tell it serves a similar role as Argoport, a hub of trade for the whole region. I’ve even seen two sea gnome ships meeting and exchanging goods.

Blood in the Water

     The nervous seaman looked over to his captain at the front of the boat, before cautiously asking the question that was at the forefront of his mind, "Cap'n, ya sure this is a good idea?"
     Turning his head so that his steely gaze locked eyes with the question asker, index finger pointedly stroking the hilt of his sword. The lone blue eye, like chips of ice for all the warmth they held, stared into the mud colored eyes of the ship hand, the only other acknowledgement of his question being a single raised eyebrow.

Iconic Barbarian: Ragnoth Frost Serpent

Playing Ragnoth Ragnoth lives by a code taught to him by his uncle: “Die on your feet, or live on your knees.” By his understanding, a person that does not choose his own fate is a slave to those that would choose it for him. When utilizing his rage, he is imagining the presumptuous noble that thought to determine Ragnoth’s fate.

Ragnoth Frost Serpent        

Male Half-Orc Barbarian 1

CN Medium humanoid

Init -1; Senses darkvision; Perception +1

Defense

AC 13, touch 9, flat-footed 13 (+4 armor, -1 Dex)

HP 21 (1d12+9)

Fort +7; Ref -1; Will +1

Offense

Speed 30 ft.

Melee scythe +4 (2d4+4/*4)

Ranged orc war bow +0 (1d12/*3)

Special Attacks rage (9 rounds/day)

Statistics

Str 16, Dex 8, Con 20, Int 12, Wis 13, Cha 10

Base Atk +1; CMB +4; CMD 13

Feats Toughness

Skills Acrobatics +0, Climb +4, Knowledge (nature) +6, Survival +5, Swim +4; Armor Check Penalty -3

Traits killer, savage*

Languages Common, Orc, Halfling

SQ fast movement*, orc blood, orc ferocity, intimidating

Equipment scythe, orc war bow, quiver with 80 cold iron arrows, hide armor, barbarian’s kit

* The effects of this ability have already been calculated into Ragnoth’s statistics

Far From Home

     He hit the ground with a loud grunt. Growling deep in his throat, Ragnoth pushed himself to his feet as his opponent tried to collect her breath. Tightening his grip on his polearm, Ragnoth rushed at the woman that had attacked him with the rest of the bandits she was with. Was.

     Out of a small group of three bandits, only the woman was left. That is not to say that they died easily. Ragnoth, their intended prey, was badly injured. Cuts covered his arms, one over his left eye effectively left him blind in that eye, three teeth had been knocked out of his mouth, his chest would be a mass of bruises in the morning, and from the feel of it at least one rib was cracked if not broken.

     The bandit woman raised her shield to intercept the point of Ragnoth’s war-scythe. Shifting his grip, Ragnoth changed the angle of his attack. Instead of striking at her chest, he targeted her legs. The tip of his blade bit deeply into muscle and nicked bone, causing a veritable fountain of blood to weep from the wound.

     Dropping to the ground with a scream of agony, the bandit woman tried in vain to staunch the blood seeping from her thigh. With a glare, Ragnoth pushed himself upright and wiped off the blood from his scythe using the tunic of the crying, panicking woman.

     “You thought three were enough to kill me. You were wrong,” Ragnoth growled at the soon to be dead woman as he hobbled further down the road; from the way his hip flared in pain with each step he must have twisted it one of the times that he was knocked down.

     If there was one thing that Ragnoth was good at, it was getting up when he was knocked down. He’d been doing it his entire life. First in the ring against his full blood peers, and then amongst the lowlanders in the southern lands.

     Admittedly, he thought to himself, not all the lowlanders were soft. The alfar Jadra is lethal with that curved blade of hers, and her mixed blood companion utilized a shield like it was a part of his body.

     The half-orc had encountered the two travelers on a road much like the one he hobbled down, nearly a year ago. He had been newly arrived in the Green Coast, having stowed away on a ship leaving Eszath for Argoport, and happened upon the camp that the elf and half-elf had made shortly after dark.

     The two companions offered to share their campfire, an offer which Ragnoth could scarcely refuse. Offering to share the tubers and root vegetables that they had scavenged, he in turn offered to share the brace of rabbits that he had shot just before stumbling upon their camp.

     While normally using one of his clan’s war bows would be deemed excessive to hunt rabbits, it was the only means of hunting the speedy animals. When he explained this to his dinner companions as the half-elven man stirred the meat and vegetables into a stew, Jadra asked to see his clan’s war bow.

     After carefully handing the bow to her, Jadra almost immediately concluded that the draw weight was impractically heavy for more than exceptional individuals. She was barely able to pull the arms close enough together to string the bow, and while she had the strength to draw the string back, her arm shook and her fingers were numb after releasing the string.

     Ragnoth decided not to tell her that he sometimes had difficulty with the draw weight himself. He did tell her that amongst the orcs in Sylvanor, being able to string and draw back the bow is a common, widespread rite of passage for both men and women. You were considered a child until you had the strength to make use of the bow. You weren’t considered an adult until you killed something like a bear or a caribou on a hunt with it.

     Shaking his head to chase away the memories, Ragnoth squinted his eyes to try to get a better look at the building off in the distance. It was getting late and he needed a place to either stay or camp for the night. It looked to be a farmhouse, so he could probably trade manual labor for a roof over his head while he slept. A plan in mind, Ragnoth picked up his pace to the farmhouse.

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From the Journals of Algren Twinbraid

My name is Professor Algren Twinbraid, a researcher and archaeologist from the University of History in Eszath. I do not know if anyone on the surface will ever read these entries, but I still feel the necessity of recording my thoughts and experiences.

Cosmology: The River of Dreams

By far the largest of the planes, some scholars feel that it belongs within a separate category, for it defies most attempts at fitting the definition of a plane of existence. No creatures summoned from it can describe it to researchers, so scholars are forced to extrapolate what they can from the bits and pieces that ancient texts describe and the rigors of conjuring its inhabitants.

     Like all planes, there are creatures that call it home. The most well-known are the water elementals, entities composed entirely of the stuff of the plane. Unlike the other planes, very few permanent settlements exist. These settlements act as neutral grounds between the inhabitants of the planes of Urzalak and Yinnola. On rare occasions, the largest of these settlements see fiery visitors from Zarth’s corpse on some mission that takes them away from their home. Some scholars theorize that the nature of the River prevent any such settlements from forming, the River reflects the minds that inhabit it after-all. Despite this malleability, or perhaps because of it, the River follows no consistent logic outside of the more stable settlements.