For those of you wondering what I’ve been doing, I have a big roleplaying project in the works. I’ll be making an initial announcement about that here in the near future, and I’ll be running a Kickstarter campaign later in the year to raise funds. In the meantime, when it comes to card and board games, 2012 is all about Lovecraft. Cthulhu Fluxx comes out this August, and I’m very excited about it. And right now a new company called  The Forking Path is running a kickstarter campaign to launch a board game that’s been on the shelf for a few years:  The Doom That Came To Atlantic City. The project description has left some people confused as to exactly what the game is and how it’s played, and I want to clear that up.

At first glance, you may notice a similarity to a certain real estate trading game. However, the gameplay is entirely different. Just as Gloom has you try to kill your characters instead of helping them, Doom challenges you to destroy the city rather than build it. You begin with a happy community filled with houses, and then you and your friends arrive. Each of you is playing one of HP Lovecraft’s Great Old Ones, and your goal is to smash houses, open gates, and destroy the world. But you each want to destroy it in your own special way. As Cthulhu, you want to make sure that pesky Shub-Niggurath doesn’t sneak in and destroy it first!

The abilities of your character are defined by Providence cards. Each Old One begins with a particular card, so Hastur always starts as the King in Yellow. By acquiring additional Providence cards, you have the opportunity to focus your strengths in a particular area – fighting other Old Ones, destroying houses, acquiring cultists, controlling movement, and more. Certain Providence cards can be played on your opponents. Everyone wants Membranous Wings… but no one wants to be The Cute One!

As an Old One, you make use of two resources. Cultists are your anchor to the world; when you lose your last cultist you are banished (removed from play) until you can rebuild your cult. You can take cultists from other Old Ones by defeating them in combat. The second resource is houses. You don’t start with any houses; you get them by smashing the houses on the board. Houses are a currency you spend to use Chants cards – one shot actions that let you modify die rolls or perform other special feats. Certain Chants cards also require you to sacrifice cultists. It’s tough to be a cultist.

The basic action of the game is simple. Travel around the board. Beat up other Old Ones who get in your way. Destroy houses. When you destroy the last house on a space, you open up a gate. The gate belongs to you, but you also get a special power based on the realm it’s connected to. A gate to R’lyeh helps you destroy things, while a gate to Yuggoth reduces the cost to play Chants cards. The more gates you have tied to a particular realm, the easier it is to use this ability. In addition, all gates belonging to a particular player are connected for purposes of movement. So when the game begins, the board is fairly straightforward. But as reality falls apart you have more opportunities to control your movement and make tactical decisions. But… how do you win?

The simplest way to win is to open six gates. The first Old One to open a sixth gate immediately wins. However, every player also has a  shortcut to victory: their Doom. Looking to the Doom above, it can be acheived with only four gates, but it requires the sacrifice of 12 cultists. As a result, the player will want to find Providence traits that give him additional cultists, or focus on beating up other Old Ones and stealing their cultists. In addition, gates to Leng reduce the cost to use the Doom, so he’ll want to target the yellow spaces. Your Doom determines your optimal strategy. Should you gain powers you need to fight other Old Ones, or ignore them and enhance your ability to destroy houses? Is the ability to target specific spaces more important than a bonus to destruction?

While these factors do provide you with meaningful decisions, The Doom That Game To Atlantic City is a chaotic beer & pretzels game. The level of strategy is akin to Munchkin. You have choices to make and the ability to interfere or assist your friends, but luck of the draw and the die plays a big factor. The game can take surprising turns; towards the end of the game it’s technically possible for a lucky player to open three gates in one turn, if the dice are blessed and the stars are right. The tone is humorous, and it’s a game to play for fun – not a brutal strategic simulation. It’s designed for 2-4 players, and once you know how to play, takes between 45 minutes to an hour.

The game uses miniatures sculpted by Paul Komoda. At the base level these are plastic miniatures; the fancier version has pewter miniatures. Here’s the concept art and the figures themselves.

The Doom That Came To Atlantic City isn’t a game for everyone. It’s a zany game of Lovecraftian devastation set amid streets with remarkably familiar names. If this sounds like your cup of absinthe, check out the Kickstarter page here. The campaign runs through May, so if you’ve got questions, ask them here!

This may be a bit of a personal question, but I’d like to hear your thoughts on the effect of winning the setting contest on your life. From the outside, it looks like your life took a major turn at that point. Do you think so as well? What do you think you would have done if you had not won that contest? Do you think you would have been on the same path, just slower and more fraught, or do you think you would be doing something completely different?

I knew I wanted to make games for a living when I was in high school. I just didn’t know how to get the job. When I came out of college I ended up working in computer games, and I slowly made contacts as a freelancer. My first paying RPG work was “Dreaming On The Verge Of Strife” in Atlas Games’ Forgotten Lives, published in 1997. I continued to work with Atlas, and branched out to Green Ronin and Goodman Games. In 2002 I quit the computer game industry to see if I could make it as a full-time freelancer. And in 2002 WotC held the Fantasy Setting Search. Which worked out pretty well for me.

So needless to say, I certainly believe I’d be on the same path today, because I’d been on that path for years when the FSS happened. But it certainly would have been a much longer and harder road, and there’s no telling where I’d be today. Eberron has been an amazing experience for me, and the international scope of it has made things like Have Dice Will Travel possible; the fact that there’s people in, say, Slovakia who like what I do still kind of amazes me.

Do you tend to run more sandbox games or pre-planned adventures (either your own creations or published stuff)?

I prefer sandbox style. I’ve written a longer piece about it here.

Who is your favorite canon NPC and why?

That’s a very tough question for me; I like anyone I create. And as shown by the previous discussion on Erandis Vol, I generally have more backstory for NPCs than ever gets into the books. But if I had to pick one… I’d cheat and pick three: the Daughters of Sora Kell. I’m fond of the mythic archetype and their role in the world. And I enjoy running them in scenes, even if it’s not an opportunity that arises often. One of the things I like about Eberron is that the monsters aren’t always the villains, and I enjoy the range of stories you can tell with them.

Where would you place the Tarrasque on Eberron?

Tough choice. You could drop it in the Thunder Sea or Xen’drik, make it a creation of the Daelkyr or a living weapon from the Age of Demons. But personally, I’d shift its abilities a little and make it a physical embodiment of the Mourning. Have it come stomping out of the Mournland, and in addition to the standard trail of devastation, it transforms the land in its wake into more Mournland. No one knows exactly what it is, because the dead-gray mists surround it at a distance; its only when you pierce the mists that you discover the source of the devastation.

Is the d’ only added for marked members of a house? I thought it was, but I keep getting confused about it.

Per canon (Player’s Guide to Eberron), no. It’s something any member of a Dragonmarked house can use. In which case it’s more relevant when they are using their family names instead of their house name. For example, an elf might call herself Tian d’Shol – which reminds people that Shol is a Phiarlan line.

With that said, in my home campaign, I reserve d’ for dragonmarked members of the house, because I feel it gives it a little more meaning. When someone introduces themselves as “Adron d’Cannith”, you know something about them beyond what you’d get from Cannith alone.

So officially no, but it’s up to you!

If you were to make an alternate-universe trope Eberron setting, what would change?

Not to dodge the question, but rather than create an alternate present day, what I’d want to do is to explore the past. There’s so many interesting eras that provide a different flavor of Eberron – the Empire of Dhakaan, pre-Sundering Riedra, the Silver Purge – that I’d rather dig into one of those than mess around with the present.

Can warforged feel emotion? My DM says they can’t.

Your DM is the final authority in his or her Eberron campaign. If the DM has chosen to make this decision in spite of canon material that states otherwise (such as this Dragonshard, which specifically states that warforged are capable of emotional behavior), then in HIS Eberron they can’t.But in case it’s simply a misunderstanding, let me elaborate on the canon position.

Warforged aren’t robots. Their behavior isn’t programmed into them. They possess many traits that Cannith artificers would be just as happy to eliminate from them if it was possible to do so. Warforged are living constructs created using tools most artificers can’t fully understand; the creation forge allows modern artificers to repeat Aaren d’Cannith’s miracle, but very few truly understand it or are capable of innovating on it (Merrix and Aleisa being two canon examples… though Aleisa is only pseudo-canon, being from a novel). Warforged possess souls, though the origin of those souls remains a mystery. The net result of this is that warforged are capable of experiencing emotions, but they have little context for emotion. The basic training Cannith gave them when they emerged from the forge was designed to focus them on their purpose and to suppress distractions. In the wake of the war, some have pushed beyond that and explored their own emotions; others have clung to it and suppressed all feelings.

So your DM is partially correct, in that Cannith sought to suppress emotion in the warforged. However, in the canon universe warforged are capable of emotional behavior.

If the warforged have “reincarnated” souls of the dead and the ghulra were their dewey decimal system ID…. where would the card catalog be?

Obviously that first one is a big “if.” But assuming it’s true, I’ll give you two possibilities.

* The Infinite Vault of Daanvi. Supposedly crafted by Aureon and Asmodeus before Aureon ascended to the unknown, it is the greatest source of lore in all reality.

* Eston. If House Cannith was aware that this was the source of warforged souls (again, big if, but work with me) clearly they would have their records in the central enclave of the house. Of course, now it’s been lost in the Mourning. If some adventurous salvagers run across it, what will they do with the information? And was Cannith able to choose what souls they harvested, or was it luck of the draw? Might they have secretly been selling a variation of Keeper’s Fang weapons to their many clients – weapons enchanted to capture souls and direct them to the vaults in Eston?

Speaking of Eston, the city is covered in the new Eye on Eberron article posted today. And just for due diligence, all material in these Dragonmark is my personal opinion and may be contradicted by canon material!

I was always perplexed about the detail of the War of the Mark. First, there is an apparent lack of public opposition to the persecution of aberrants. Hundreds or even thousands of them must have been killed across the continent for no other reason than manifesting the wrong version of the dragonmarks. Of course, the Houses’ propaganda painted them as evil, but there is just that much propaganda can do. Most of those people had families and friends who knew otherwise. I doubt that aberrants have any bigger tendency to become criminals due to destructive powers of their marks than, say, sorcerers, who learn how to cast burning hands and magic missiles.

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.

Before I continue, have you read any of the following?

* The RPGA adventure The Delirium Stone, in which players actually experience a flashback to the War of the Mark.

* The Children of Khyber Dragonshard article.

* The novels The Son of Khyber or The City of Towers, in which we interact with modern aberrants and get to see some of them. They’re not all bad people. But many of them are strange or disturbing. Little “Junior Lady Of The Plague” Zae who only talks to rats. Brom with his troll’s arm. Crippled Filleon with his deadly touch.

Here’s a quote from the Dragonshard article, describing what it’s like to have a powerful aberrant mark:

You can feel your power festering within you. It’s different for every child of Khyber. One feels a chill no warmth can push away, while another complains of fire burning beneath his skin. An heir with the power of confusion feels the force of madness in his mind, trying to claw its way out and feast on the thoughts of others. Your mark may bring you pain. It may whisper to you as you try to sleep. But it is a part of you.

You say “Why would an aberrant be any more likely to be a criminal than a sorcerer?” The answer is that a sorcerer chooses his path. Sorcery may be a natural talent as opposed to wizardry, but the sorcerer applies himself to its study and chooses the path he wants to follow. The aberrant doesn’t. His power chooses him, and often in a very unpleasant way. If the aberrant has burning hands, odds are good it manifested for the first time when he was angry at someone. Was that in a lover’s quarrel? When he was arguing with a parent? A friend? What death is on his conscience? And whenever he gets angry, can he hold the flames in? Likewise, for a sorcerer the power isn’t a burden; it’s a tool he learns to use. For an aberrant it’s something he must master and control, lest it drive him mad or harm those around him.

Powerful aberrant marks are dangerous to the bearer. They often cause disfigurements or madness. Yes, with training these dangers can be controlled or limited, and that’s something Tarkanan was trying to do. But to your question of “Why didn’t people care? Why did people believe the propaganda?”… look at the Salem witch trials and imagine that these things were unquestionably real. That someone has a livid red mark on their skin and that they burned their mother to death – and that you’ve HEARD the stories about how these people are touched by Khyber, how they are all monsters. Are you going to say “Oh, he didn’t mean it, he just needs to learn to control it. So he killed my wife – mistakes happen.” Or are you going to sending a messenger out to find the nearest Deneith extermination squad? And again, in terms of just how dangerous these marks could be, I’ll note that Halas Tarkanan destroyed a city when he unleashed his mark – and that the curse of the Lady of the Plague still lingers over a thousand years after. Far from trying to STOP the Dragonmarked from persecuting the aberrants, most local authorities were glad they were there.

The aberrant marks seen today – the “least” aberrant marks, if you will – don’t carry the same restrictions or power. You can have an aberrant mark without being a madman or a cripple. And you’re not going to use that mark to destroy a city. But the stories haven’t been forgotten, and the houses simply keep them alive. And now the more powerful marks are starting to return… so what happens next?

So you are basically saying that abberant dragonmarks do tend to make people outcasts and criminals…

Aberrant dragonmarks certainly make people outcasts. They don’t necessarily make them criminals; being outcasts may, however. The point is that there’s a significant difference between having an aberrant mark that produces burning hands and being a sorcerer who can do it. For the aberrant, it begins as a dangerous burden. Some are driven mad. Some inadvertently take actions that lead to their deaths (unleashing burning hands in a public place and getting lynched as a result). Those that survive learn to control their powers – but it’s not an easy or comfortable thing.

But the logical conclusion would be that the society had been trying to deal with this threat long before War of the Mark. If I knew a kid who caused a whole village to die from disease and another kid who torched his mom in anger and they both had those scary red marks on their skin, I would probably vote for a kill-on-sight policy for anyone with a similar mark. I would have had a lynching mob go after such people. And if it were too dangerous, I would call on my liegelord to send a squad of archers and shoot the baddie from a safe distance.

Society would only have to deal with this threat “long before the War of the Mark” if aberrant marks existed in significant numbers long before the War of the Mark… and they didn’t. Mixed marks appeared in small numbers when houses mingled; this is how the houses discovered these existed and how “the threat” became known. At the time the houses set their policy, it was largely the way we have incest laws: mingling the blood of two houses has unsavory results, don’t do it. Then the marks began spreading – yet not tied to lineage or any predictable pattern. The first of these were the equivalent of least marks. Stories begin to spread… but bear in mind that there were no airships, lightning rails, or speaking stones at this time, so word certainly didn’t spread as fast as it once did. A boy burned his mother, and he had a mark like those of the Twelve, but traced in blood. More powerful marks begin to appear, but still nothing on the level of Tarkanan or the Lady of the Plague. People say it’s Khyber stirring in the depths. There are more stories of marks driving their bearers mad, and the deaths that have resulted are sensationalized. Ghallanda spreads the word through the inns. Orien passes it along the trade roads, and Lyranar the seas. Phiarlan sings songs of the unsavory aberrants… and it’s now that the Lady of the Plague appears, and her tale is one that terrifies the public. Families that have been hiding their aberrant kid begin to question their actions. And the marks keep appearing in greater numbers, and becoming increasingly dangerous. Now Deneith-backed squads show up promising to protect people from these unclean children of Khyber – and now is the time that people start calling on them for help, or organizing lynch mobs of their own. But…

… remember that aberrant dragonmarks aren’t predictable. They can appear on anyone at any time. It’s not just “a kid” who has the mark. It could be a soldier. A Duke. A powerful priest. Anyone could get an aberrant mark, and as society turned on the aberrants in fear, those who developed aberrant marks knew exactly what fate awaited them. The boy who burned a parent wouldn’t turn himself in; he would run. The duke would try to conceal his mark, fortify his stronghold and hide from the world. This degree of versatility meant that aberrant forces could have unexpected skills and resources. And then you have Halas Tarkanan. He was a Karrnathi officer before he developed his mark, a brilliant soldier who learned the arts of war at Rekkenmark and the ways of House Deneith from his mother. His forces weren’t solely aberrants; many of his unmarked soldiers stood by him, and he won others to his cause… as well as taking in goblins and other oppressed forces.

My point is – there wouldn’t be enough abberrants hiding out there to form a force capable to wage a regular war under Tarkanan. That would require a sudden surge of aberrant powers similar to what is happening in the world in present-day, which is quite possible actually.

First off, the current surge is far less than what was seen in the century leading up to the War of the Mark. It appears to be starting again, and a DM can take it that way. But at the moment, there’s neither the number or power level seen in the past. In canon sources (remember, novels aren’t canon), no one has been described as possessing an aberrant mark matching the power of Halas Tarkanan or his lieutenants… and it was the power of these marks that kept the aberrant forces alive.

Beyond this, bear in mind that they never fought a “regular war.” You never had formations of aberrant soldiers facing off against dragonmarked house armies. While Halas did his best to provide basic training, the majority of the aberrants were noncombatants, though with their marks they could put up a defense when cornered and forced to fight. Somewhat to my surprise, the best analogy I can think of is Battlestar Galactica. Think of the aberrants as fleets of largely civilian vessels, huddling around an individual like Tarkanan or the Dreambreaker – their battlestar, whose power was singlehandedly great enough to disperse conventional forces. You then have a small group of trained soldiers and people with lesser/greater marks – the vipers of the Battlestar analogy, able to carry out their commander’s will. But they were still always on the run, relying on the raw power of their commanders (and Tarkana’s tactical genius) just to survive, always searching for some lasting sanctuary. They were occasionally able to gather small elite units for their own commando strikes, but they never faced the houses with proper armies. And in the end, despite Tarkanan’s best efforts, they were herded to Shaarat and forced to make a final stand. And again, you can see a little of what that’s like in the RPGA adventure The Delirium Stone.

Is this what’s happening today? Aberrant marks are manifesting in ever-greater numbers, but are they going to reach the same level of power as Tarkanan possessed? And if so, is this a natural cycle? Part of the Prophecy? Or is it being actively manipulated by the Lords of Dust or some other force? That’s up to you…

I’d like to revisit one point…

If I knew a kid who caused a whole village to die from disease and another kid who torched his mom in anger and they both had those scary red marks on their skin, I would probably vote for a kill-on-sight policy for anyone with a similar mark.

Bear in mind that nothing about aberrant marks is predictable. The red and black marks that we’ve shown are the most common sort of aberrant mark, but aberrant marks can take a vast array of forms. The lines of a burning hands mark might be formed from livid scar tissue. An aberrant mark that grants charm person could actually be a shining array of glowing white lines that’s almost hypnotic to look at… while another charm person mark is red and black. Aberrant marks are, well, aberrant. So this helped slow things down. Sure, the kid with the scary scar mark burned his mom, but our daughter’s mark is beautiful. And she’s not hurting anyone, is she? Really?

Ultimately people would decide that yes, the charmer was hurting people – that mind controllers are scary. But again, this combination of diversity and limited long-distance communication added to the amount of time it took for public opinion to form.

In conclusion…

Aberrant marks originally existed in small numbers and low power. In the century leading up to the War of the Mark, they rapidly increased in number and power. There was excellent reason for people to fear the marks. If Tarkanan had been born earlier and been a diplomat instead of a soldier, he might have convinced people that the aberrants weren’t at fault – that if they were taught to control their marks, they could peacefully coexist (though some were, of course, mad or sociopathic). But most of the media of the time was in the hands of the houses, and when the fear was spreading there was no spokesperson for the aberrants. The “war” began as a simple witchhunt and purge. Tarkanan organized survivors into small guerrilla forces with enough firepower to defend themselves as they fled. Ultimately they were caught and erradicated.

In the centuries that followed, aberrant marks appeared in small numbers and only at the lowest level of power. But the stories remained and grew with each telling. People don’t run in terror from aberrants, because it’s been over a thousand years since the Lady of the Plague laid her curse on Shaarat. But they still know the stories, and aberrants are still shunned and treated with suspicion. And now the numbers of marks are growing again, and their power with them. But this is new and unusual. House Tarkanan has noticed it, and it is acting to gather the aberrants. But society as a whole hasn’t yet noticed exactly what’s going on. aberrants are an old bogeyman; even the houses are only just now looking at House Tarkanan and trying to figure out what’s happening.

Moving to more general discussion about the marks…

“Aberrant” seems like it’s shifted in meaning since the setting was originally published, and it was always kind of broad to begin with.

It’s something that was never developed as far as I wanted. I actually had a full system for aberrant marks developed for the Sharn: City of Towers sourcebook, but it ended up being cut for space. It is the case that a number of the SLAs in the original 3.5 sourcebook do NOT, in my mind, qualify for my vision of aberrant marks. I don’t see feather fall or detect secret doors as aberrant marks. To me, a core difference between aberrant and normal dragonmarks is that aberrant marks channel destructive or aggressive forces, while true marks are constructive. With that said, we’ve seen that true marks can be used in aggressive ways – from Lyrandar slamming you with a gust of wind to the Orien assassin teleporting behind you and killing you. But note that when aberrant marks were expanded in Dragonmarked the lists didn’t include superior flight or expanded detection capabilities.

What I’m wondering is if there’s some kind of substantive difference between Aberrant Marks and Mixed Marks. For example, would mixed marks tend to appear more as a mixture of the true marks? And would such a mark exhibit powers that call to mind the two true marks involved? Or is it more like the mixture of the marks corrupts their fundamental nature and creates some bizarre, unrelated effect?

The original idea is definitely the latter. Aberrant marks are entirely unpredictable. If you knew that Orien + Lyrandar = feather fall, then it’s not an aberrant mark anymore; it’s “the Mark of PassageStorms.” The idea of the mixed mark was simply that it was and is the only reliable way to produce an aberrant mark – but that there’s no telling what that mark will be. Likewise, this is part of the 3.5 aberrant mark system in Dragonmarked. You can have charm person as your least power and poison as your lesser power. You might have an aberrant individual who develops powers along a specific theme – all fire, all fear – but unlike the true marks this isn’t a given.

Now again, this is how it’s been presented. If you want to do things differently – and for that matter, play up existing elements like the feather fall aberrant mark – go for it!

With this said, there are a number of questions that have come up both recently and in the past concerning dragonmarks and the houses. Before I get to these, I want to call out one of my personal ideas about the dragonmarks… and a house rule I use to reflect it in 4E. These are based on one simple principle: the spell-like ability derived from a dragonmark is actually the least important benefit it provides. Obviously this refers to the 3.5 Dragonmarks – but the principle carries forward into 4E. Looking to 3.5, a character with the Least Mark of Scribing can use whispering wind once per day. Someone with the Least Mark of Making can Repair Light Damage once per day. Nifty! But this level of power can be mimicked by any magewright and surpassed by any wizard or artificer. This alone is hardly sufficient to give the houses the power they possess. That power comes from the tools that only the dragonmarked can use: Dragonshard focus items. Economically, it’s essentially irrelevant that a gnome with the Mark of Scribing can perform whispering wind once per day. What’s vital is the fact that his mark allows him to use a speaking stone – and the speaking stone network is the cornerstone of international communication. Speaking stones. Creation forges. Airships and lightning rails. These and many other tools can only be used by the dragonmarked – and THIS is what gives them control.

In 4E, I take this in a different direction. The existing 4E version of the dragonmarks allow the person who possesses a dragonmark to perform certain rituals without the ritual caster feat. I add a few things to this.

First: The listed rituals are innate powers of the dragonmark. Someone with the Mark of Healing doesn’t need a ritual book to perform cure disease; they simply have to learn how to use the mark in that way. Such training costs the same price as the market cost of the ritual, but once the training is complete the ritual cannot be taken away. It still requires time and components (note that I consider residuum to be the highest grade of refined Eberron dragonshards – the basic fuel of the magical economy), but the power is part of the mark. I generally provide one of the lowest level rituals associated with the mark to the character for free. This is the equivalent of the 3E spell-like ability. So a Kundarak dwarf with the mark can use it to make an arcane lock, and a Sivis gnome starts off knowing how to comprehend languages (provided they have time and dragonshards to burn!).

Second: I restrict many significant rituals to the dragonmarked. I don’t have a complete list to throw up here now, and frankly, it’s something you’d want to carefully consider for your own campaign – especially if you don’t have any dragonmarked PCs in your group. But for a few examples, in my campaign you need the Mark of Healing to perform cure disease; the Mark of Warding to produce an arcane lock; the Mark of Passage to use linked portal. If you go to a temple, the priests may be skilled with the Heal skill and tend you in that way; but if you absolutely want to have your disease cured RIGHT NOW, you have to find someone with the Mark of Healing. Again – magical monopolies. Now, there are always exceptions – especially for divine magic, because it’s less scientific. You can have the amazing holy man who can cure disease – but he can’t teach you how to do it.

Why? Why hasn’t someone just made an airship anyone can steer? Why wouldn’t someone just make the arcane lock ritual? Because one of the basic ideas of Eberron is that magic is a science… and you don’t get scientific breakthroughs just because you want them. Right now people are TRYING to make an airship anyone can steer. They’re trying to make a creation forge that doesn’t require the Mark of Making, or a teleportation circle anyone can use. And if your campaign, they just might do it. If you’re playing an artificer, you could be the Tesla or Edison of the age. You could be the genius who creates the linked portal ritual so you can hack into Orien’s existing circle network. On the other hand, the houses have a vested interest in preventing such breakthroughs. Lyrandar doesn’t want just anyone to be able to steer an airship. How far will it go to maintain that monopoly?If it’s just your party hacking the teleportation system or if you have a single free-use airship, you’re probably safe. But if you try to establish yourself as a rival business, that’s another story!

At the end of the day, it’s up to you how far you want to take this. You can leave cure disease as something any ritual caster can do. But personally, I like the flavor of having specific, important magical services bound to these families.

Which brings us to the first question from the audience…

Will 5E Eberron to reverse the ‘anyone can have a Dragonmark’ issue? This was the biggest change I saw in 4E Eberron, and I really disliked it.

Personally, I never considered this to be a change, by which I mean I don’t accept that “anyone can have a dragonmark” is a concrete description of the setting.

Looking at the 4E ECG:
* On page 17, in the section describing the Dragonmarked, it states “There are twelve recognized dragonmarks, each one associated with a specific bloodline that appears in a single humanoid race… Dragonmarks that appear outside these bloodlines are called aberrant marks, whether they’re recognized marks appearing on people not connected to the mark’s normal bloodline, or unusual marks beyond the recognized twelve.”
* On page 18 it states “(a dragonmarked character) might be a member of a race unconnected to the dragonmarked houses, even a race such as warforged or kalashtar (races that don’t normally manifest dragonmarks). Such a mark has nothing to do with bloodline and everything to do with the touch of the Prophecy. These characters are extremely rare—it’s not recommended that you create NPCs who fall into this category unless the story of your campaign demands it. The houses might not be sure what to do with a character like this—the character is probably the first such case they’ve ever seen, so there’s no precedent to fall back on. Some people would probably try to recruit the character into the house, while others would argue for the character’s extermination to keep the house’s bloodline—and its economic monopoly—secure.”

Putting those two statements together, what we get is this. Any player character could have a dragonmark outside of the bloodline. First of all, it would be considered an aberrant mark. Second, it is likely the first time in history this has every happened; it represents the character’s significant role in the Prophecy; and it potentially marks the character for extermination.

As such, it doesn’t change the PAST of the setting, because it’s stated that this may never have happened before and that even the DM shouldn’t casually create NPCs like this. Eberron remains a world in which dragonmarks are tied to bloodlines; it’s simply the case that players can be the bizarre, remarkable exceptions because that’s what player characters are.

I’ll note that you’re never going to see a character with no connection to a bloodline ever manifesting a pure dragonmark in an Eye on Eberron article; again, I don’t consider it to be a part of the default setting. With that said, I can think of two cases in my own novels where warforged appear to manifest dragonmarks (one pure, one aberrant)… though I’ll say that in both those cases, the whole point is for people to say “Wait, what?” and not “Oh, yeah, that’s just normal.”

… which is not to downplay your concern about the issue, but rather to say that whether in 4E or D&D Next, you shouldn’t see a setting in which the world is filled with out-of-house pure dragonmarks, even if it’s left as an option people can explore.

I always wondered about the Test of Syberis. Depending on the stress of the test, a heir may or may not develop a dragonmark according, but it’s hard for me to imagine a stressful situation involving the marks of Making or Finding. Have you used any of those in a campaign?

Depending on your edition, a mark provides you with a variety of concrete benefits. Ritual access. A spell like ability. A bonus to skill checks. Let’s focus on that last one. In 3.5, every dragonmark provided a bonus to one skill. The Mark of Finding gives you a +2 bonus to Search. The Mark of Making provides you with a +2 bonus to Craft checks. These are powers of the mark! Whether you use the spell-like abilities of 3.5 or the rituals of 4E, there’s no telling what the first power a marked individual will develop will be. So you can’t force a Cannith heir to repair a warforged and hope that he’ll turn up with repair light damage; even if he manifests the mark, it might give him mending. But you can rely on the fact that he will be better at Craft, or that the Tharashk heir will be better at Search. So that’s what you base your test on. Stress doesn’t have to mean a life-or-death situation; it can easily be derived from the threat of social humiliation or professional ruin. So, you’re put in a room with a tool box with only half the tools you need and told to fix something. It’s a nearly impossible task. Can you push your Craft skill to levels you didn’t know you possessed? Even if you can’t, will the stress of trying unlock the crafting talent within you? Likewise for Finding: It’s ultimately a test of the Search skill. And it’s THE test of the Search skill. You have one shot to have your best hunt ever, and if you fail, you shame your family. You don’t have to develop the Mark to succeed, but it would sure make it easier!

Once, in my campaign, i had this Lyrandar heir comissioned to infiltrate the Twelve and sabotage some Cannith ultrasecret project. The question is: if he would have been caught, who do you think will be the authority to judge him? Can House Lyrandar lobby in his favor in some way? How often do you think these entrapments happen?

The first authority to judge him would have been the legal authorities of the country in which the crime took place. At the current time, the houses aren’t authorized to enforce the law. If the Cannith ultrasecret project is in Sharn, then Cannith should turn the saboteur over to the Sharn watch and prosecute him according to the Code of Galifar.

Of course, having said that, there would also be a trial within the Twelve. Cannith could demand restitution from Lyrandar; threaten to raise prices on airships or elemental galleons (remember that the Zil bind the elementals, but it’s Cannith that makes the dragonshard focus items that let the heirs control their ships!); or demand that the heir in question be fined or excoriated. But this isn’t a LEGAL trial; these are business negotiations.

Could Lyrandar lobby in his favor? Sure, in both courts. They could grease palms in Sharn. And they could make some sort of concession to Cannith to smooth things over. The main thing is that negotiations in the Twelve are backs by practical considerations beyond abstract law. Lyrandar needs Cannith to keep producing Wheels of Wind and Water. There’s limits to how far it can afford to push the House of Making without threatening its own business.

How is it that two radically opposing philosophies can exist within the Triumvirate of House Tharashk? I would expect that Team Daelkyr and Team Gatekeepers would be actively trying to murder each other, not work together to further the ends of their mercantile empire. Thanks!

Well, the key answer is that the philosophies aren’t as “radical” as you might think. The Daelkyr have been sealed away for SEVEN THOUSAND YEARS. They were bound before humans even had significant civilizations on Sarlona, let alone before they settled in the Marches. Most people who follow one of these faiths aren’t actually trying to free the Daelkyr or to actively defend their seals, any more than most people in our world are actively preparing for Judgement Day or pushing for it to happen. There are extremists on both sides – the actual Gatekeeper druids, particularly active Cults of the Dragon Below. But for most people it’s a matter of the songs they sing and the stories they tell. Bear in mind also that the “Cults of the Dragon Below” are NOT in any way monolithic. Some believe that the lords of the inner earth will one day return to the surface to transform the world into a paradise (though they generally have strange aesthetics…). Some believe that when they die their souls will descend to the paradise within Khyber, provided they pave the road with the blood of their enemies. Some don’t care about the daelkyr or Khyber at all; they revere the gibbering mouther who lives in the basement and who ritually devours any family member who reaches the age of 50. On the other side, members of “Team Gatekeeper” know that the night is dark and full of terrors, and that it is by following the teachings of the druids that they help hold that evil at bay.

Short form: for the most part the members of the house aren’t radicals or extremists. They disagree on these matters, but neither believes that the beliefs of the other are a clear and present danger. Essentially, it’s much like Democrats and Republicans working together in our world. You may think your co-worker’s beliefs are moronic; you may think that the more powerful people who share his beliefs are a threat; but at the same time, he’s your cousin/countryman/coworker. So just don’t discuss politics and try to get the job done.

Comparing faiths and the dragonmarked houses, though, I have always had the feeling that given their powers and benefits dragonmarked may appear to be much more powerful than others, and think that Flamer characters, for instance, should receive additional benefits due to divine forces that make them stand apart from dragonmarked and perhaps even “envied” by them.

Sure! In my campaign, I call that benefit “divine magic.” You suggest that Jorasco can’t do exorcisms, and I agree. Most Jorasco healers have the mark and nothing else. They can’t call down fire or turn undead. They have no special power to smite evil. They can’t shield others from harm (that’s what House Deneith is for). A Jorasco house with a true cleric (likely dedicated to Arawai and Kol Korran) is a rare exception. Given this, I’ve never felt a need to give the faiths additional powers, because what they have is the powers that come with faith. Now, you suggest that they could benefit from miracles at the discretion of the DM, and there’s never anything wrong with that; for example, Tira Miron received divine aid from the couatl to battle Bel Shalor. No couatl’s going to pop into Jorasco House #153 to help with Farmer John’s hemorrhoids.

The main thing is that in creating Eberron, I wanted to break with the tradition I’d seen in the past of temples being places adventurers went to in order to throw money at the altar and get healed. Eberron is like our world. If you want to get healed, go to a hospital. If you want spiritual guidance, go to a church. But if you just walked into a church you’d never been to, handed the priest a thousand dollars, and said “I cut my leg, fix it” – how do you think that would work out for you? With that said, the Church of the Silver Flame does “heal for free.” They operate free clinics and do charitable work among the needy, as do some (non-Jorasco) priests of Boldrei and Arawai. The point is that this is generally use of the Heal skill as opposed to magic. In 4E, even if they COULD perform the cure disease ritual, it costs 150 gp to perform it; they couldn’t afford it to just wander around fixing the peasants. And frankly, for commoners, the Heal skill is going to handle most of their problems; it’s just not instant. Like our world, there are faith healers who can miraculously heal with a touch – but like our world, those are few in number in comparison to hospitals or clinics.  

This relates to the idea that player character classes are rare. The cleric IS that faith healer – the rare and remarkable individual whose faith is so great that he can heal you with a prayer. But the priest in the typical church isn’t a cleric; he’s most likely an expert trained in Diplomacy, Heal, History, Sense Motive, and of course Religion. He can preach; he can listen and counsel you; but he doesn’t do magic. In Jorasco, you don’t have clerics either. What I like about 4E with its rituals is that it finally allows a Jorasco heir to be a healer without ANY divine magic, which is how I prefer it. Jorasco house can heal, but they general can’t provide any other divine services – because they are businesses, not places of worship.

I’ll also point out that nothing prevents a Jorasco heir from joining the Church of the Silver Flame! In my campaign, one of the greatest healers is a Jorasco heir dedicated to the Silver Flame, who left the house to follow his faith. Beyond this, I would definitely consider letting a player character cleric learn the rituals normally restricted to the dragonmark, because that’s part of what makes her extra-holy and amazing.

Please tell us how you portray the participation of the Silver Flame during the last war and whether there religious discrimination or conflict against flamers in Karrnath or Breland.

What does this have to do with dragonmarks? Nothing. But it’s been asked often enough that I’m adding the answer to the end of the Faith post, so if you’re interested look for it there.

As always, these are my personal opinions and aren’t canon in any way. They may be contradicted by canon Eberron sourcebooks – go with what you like. Please post your own thoughts, experiences, and questions about the Dragonmarked houses below, and if you have questions on other topics, post them in this thread!

If you have a question you’d like to ask or a topic for a post, please leave it on this thread. There’s been some great questions so far, though I’m afraid many of them will require a full post to address. However, a few only require short answers. So today I’ve put together a list of those and we’re going to zip through them, starting with a question I know has been on your mind…

In which regions are tribex found?

If you’re saying “What’s a tribex,” I’m sure you’re not alone. Here’s a picture (from Eberron concept artist Steve Prescott – check out his website here).

IIRC, canon sources have only mentioned tribex in the Talenta Plains. We’ve generally described tribex as being part of Talenta cuisine. However, I personally consider tribex to have relatives found in a range of environments, and potentially as varied as moose, elk, and deer. The Fading Dream has a fey knight wearing a helmet shaped like the “head of a woodland tribex,” found in what used to be Cyre; I’d also imagine a wooly variant of the tribex in themountains of the Mror Holds. All forms of tribex would share a few key features: triple horns, bony headplate, lion-like tail.

I know most of you are here for the tribex, but I figured I should include a few more obscure questions as well. So…

What’s going to happen to Eberron in D&D Next?

Right now, you guess is as good as mine! Eberron is the property of Wizards of the Coast, it’s up to them to decide what form future support will take. All I can say for certain is that I’m signed on to write Eye on Eberron articles until the end of the year, and that Marsheila Rockwell’s Skein of Shadows comes out in July. Will Eberron get print support in the next edition? Will Eye on Eberron be renewed for 2013? At this point, I don’t know.

If you’d like to see more support for Eberron in the future, the best thing to do is to talk about it. Given that it hasn’t had many releases recently, there’s few ways for the people at WotC to just the current level of interest in the world. If there’s a clear burst of interest, well, it can’t hurt. Ask questions here! Join the Eberron discussion group on G+! Vote for Eberron in this WotC forum poll! I can’t promise that any of these things will make a difference, but they can’t hurt.

Also, is there any way to still get a hold of the Dolurrh’s Dawn charity adventure? I missed it and would be willing to purchase it/donate if need be.

I’m afraid I’m not authorized to give it away or post it here. However, if you post on messageboards you might be able to find someone who did purchase it and get it from them. There’s no DRM, and given that it’s not for sale it’s not like you’re hurting anyone.

There’s been a ‘Group of Eleven’ mentioned several times in regards to Xen’drik and giant civilization during their golden age, but nothing besides that: a mention. So, I was wondering, who exactly were they? What were they all about?

Initially we referred to “the giants” as if they were a monolithic entity. However, Xen’drik is vast and I saw no logical reason that you wouldn’t have multiple giant cultures, so when I was working on The Shattered Land and Secrets of Xen’drik, I sketched out a few in my head. The Sulat League were experts in elemental binding, and they produced the fire giants and the drow. The giants of the Cul’sir Empire chose to unite under their titan emperor and became the single largest civilization in Xen’drik. The Group of Eleven was an alliance of eleven smaller city states, each led by a powerful mage. While their alliance made them powerful, I saw them as far more culturally diverse than the Cul’sir, with a culture that promoted internal and external competition; where the Cul’sir believed a peaceful society allowed research to foster, the Group of Eleven maintained that competition drove evolution.

With that said, the name actually came from a night when a large group of us were trying to get a table for dinner. The phrase “group of eleven” kept getting tossed around, and I liked the sound of it.

What’s the craziest explanation for the Mourning you’ve used in a campaign?

I’ve never explained the Mourning in a campaign. For me, the Mourning is the key to maintaining the cold war. Once its answer is known, people know if it can happen again and if its power can be harnessed. If it can’t happen again, there are people ready to reignite the Last War. If it can be harnessed, it will drive a massive race to do so, as unilateral control of such a weapon would make war irrelevant. If the adventurers in my campaign ever found out the cause of the Mourning, the biggest challenge facing them would be to cover it up before anyone else found out and keep it secret.

Now, it has come up in my novels. In The Gates of Night Lei’s parents suggest that they know WHO is behind it; given that the book has been around for over 5 years and it’s not a major plot point, I’ll give you the SPOILER that they are talking about the Traveler, because they are part of the Traveler’s Cannith cult. They aren’t speaking literally; rather, the point is that whoever or whatever triggered it, it’s the hand of the Traveler on Eberron, and it will drive chaos, change, and evolution. Meanwhile The Fading Dream presents a more concrete theory. I won’t spoil this one, and I’ll simply say that it’s possible it’s the real answer… or not.

Since none of that provides a crazy theory, I’ll throw one out: Clearly, the Mourning was caused by the Spellplague, which was so powerful it punched a whole through realities. Consider the similarities between spellscars and dragonmarks, the plague-lands and the Mournland. Now, this may seem unlikely because a) the Spellplague was introduced in 4E and the Mourning has been around longer than that and b) despite any similarities between spellscars and dragonmarks, dragonmarks existed long before the Mourning. But this is INTERDIMENSIONAL MAGIC. It cannot be so easily explained! THE MOURNING IS THE SPELLPLAGUE!

OK, maybe not.

If I was to encounter a spelljammer type junkyard (think Watto’s from Phantom Menace), where on Eberron would that be most likely?

The key word here is “junkyard.” If I introduced Spelljammer into Eberron, I’d probably riff off the cold war space race and the colonization of the Americas. Each nation is creating its own spelljammers, looking for an edge and competing in the spheres. And what about those rumors about Riedran spelljammers powered by the dreaming crew? Does your team of adventurers have the right stuff to explore what lies beyond?

However, if I was just dropping a spelljammer junkyard into the world as it stands, I’d put it in Xen’drik and say that some nation of giants – the Group of Eleven, for example – experiemented with spelljamming and either gave up or it was lost when the dragons laid waste to the continent. This adds the fun factor that these spelljammers would be giant-sized! Can you get the Titanic into working shape?

Another option would be to say that Cannith or the Zil explored spelljamming a century ago and gave up when the Last War began. The scrapyard holds half-finished hulls and other abandoned tools. Such a location could be anywhere in Khorvaire… though if Cannith is the source, another possibility would be to choose a Cannith forgehold in the Mournland, which would explain the program’s demise.

Do you do any special “plane-mapping” in your campaigns if you run D&D 4E? I find the Shadowfell, Feywild etc. to be mildly confusing compared to the Eberron cosmology. So I guess the question is, what’s your cosmology mapping for 4E?

Honestly? I just use the same planar set-up I always have. When something comes up that requires me to use one of the new planar concepts (IE, Feywild), I come up with something that makes sense. Covering the major ones…

I consider The Feywild to be another name for Thelanis.

The Shadowfell can be either Mabar or Dolurrh, depending on the context. Mabar is the source of negative energy and most undead; Dolurrh is where spirits linger after death.

While the idea of mapping some planes to the Elemental Chaos and others to the Astral Sea works fine, I generally don’t bother to think of it that way in my mind. I still use the orrery design, and I’m happy with it. And I’ll point out that per the recent Eye on Eberron article, Baator is more of a demiplane – so we’re back to the original planes of the orrery.

As always, please discuss your own ideas, experiences, or further questions tied to these topics below!

WHAT’S THE BIGGEST SURPRISE IN THE AVENGERS?

With last week’s question we looked at something that’s sure to be the next big thing: Television Mash-Ups. My thirteen favorite answers can be found below – for the full set, check the comments on this thread!

4/24: What TV Mash-up do you want to see?

1. The Match Game of Thrones

2. The Good Wife Swap

3. 21 Sesame Street

4. One Day At A Time Tunnel

5. The Wild, Wild West Wing

6. Jim Henson’s VH1 Storytellers

7. The Benny Hill Street Blues

8. The Addams Family Feud

9. The Greatest American Gladiator

10. Two Broke Girls, A Guy, And A Pizza Place

11. Fraggle Rock of Love

12. Whose Nightline Is It Anyway?

13. This Old Full House On The Prairie

(DoctorBadWolf ) So, I don’t really get the whole Lich = Hideous corpse thing to begin with. They’re more powerful than vampires, and their magic can’t keep them looking like living people if they want, without illusion magic? I know in Eberron canon is less important, but I’m wondering if it’s actually canon, or just an assumption, that Erandis looks gross.

(EnderXenocide0) I’ve always seen Erandis as being deceptively beautiful. Perhaps most liches become so monstrously disfigured by the sheer weight of the negative energy they use to convert themselves into undead, but maybe the Mark of Death allowed Erandis to be transformed without her body undergoing the cosmetic changes. I like the idea of her body having this sense of timelessness to it, as though a switch was flipped one moment and she just stopped changing.

Obviously, this is one of those “Do what you want in your own campaign” things. With that said, I believe in the ugly lich for a number of reasons.
Undead are infused with negative energy. That’s “anti-life”, fundamentally. Coming into contact with them tends to cause physical harm to living creatures, as your life force gets drained, you get paralyzed, etc. In 4E, just being close to a lich can hurt a living creature. This backs up the assertion of the Undying Court is that merely bringing this energy into Eberron fundamentally hurts the life-force of the world itself. So, point one: this is an extremely unnatural thing.

Liches are efficient. A lich doesn’t need blood to survive. It is sustained purely by Mabar and magic. The organs of its body, from skin to eyes, are extraneous. I’ll note that liches have darkvision; in my opinion this isn’t because their eyesight has improved, it’s because they don’t have eyes anymore. Their souls are anchored to the world through their phylactery, and a body is thrown together, but it’s just a shell for the soul and has no need for any of the pleasantries.

So what about vampires? If liches are ugly, why do vampires get to be pretty? Because vampires aren’t as efficient as liches. They require blood to survive. Which in turn means they need a circulatory system. They need to thrive as predators among the living which means that they HAVE to be able to pass as living, so they need skin and such. A vampire has specific anatomical weaknesses: it can be killed with a stake through the heart or decapitation (well, if you play with such rules). A lich can’t. It has fully transcended these and is immortal unless you find the phylactery. The body is just a shell for the soul, bound together by that unnatural negative energy.

Deathless are ugly, too. The Undying are sustained by positive energy, and yet they are also ugly. Because they’re done with their bodies. Unlike the vampire, none of it is necessary anymore. It’s why you have Aereni artificially dessicating themselves… because the flesh is temporary. The dissolution of the body is nothing to fear if you preserve and perfect the soul.

Having said all of that, I have Erandis use magic to APPEAR attractive. And she’s got access to very, very powerful magic. When she needs to fool people, she can and she does. If you ever see her ugly face, things are likely going to be very bad for you. But I still like the fact that underneath it she’s hideous, for a few more reasons.

She’s a tragic figure. She didn’t ask for her fate. Even among the Aereni, most say to enjoy life before becoming deathless. To me, emphasizing that her current state ISN’T pleasant or serene makes her all the more tragic. Having her dragonmark be a withered remnant of its true self – having her stare at it in the mirror, knowing what it should be – is what will drive you mad. I could even see her creating a persistant spell and trying to forget her appearance, because she’s NOT as serene about things as the deathless are.

It’s creepier. When her appearance is a glamour hiding something hideous – something you can imagine but can’t see – to me, that makes her a much more intriguing and disturbing character.

WITH THAT SAID: That doesn’t mean I endorse the image/figure we’ve seen of her. I play her as less physically imposing. But still very, very dead.

But as I said… that’s my Erandis.

( DoctorBadWolf) I see the Vols being less…base and ugly about their approach to undeath than the standard necromancer. I could see Vol necromancers raising skeleton knights in a way that their bones look like onyx or emerald or ruby, or covered in obscure runes, etc. Basically, I expect the sort of ritualism and artistry that comes with religious devotion to change the look and feel of their undead, to some extent.

I’m all for being artistic with the bones. My point was simply that I’m fine with undead who are purely self-sustained (liches, death knights) being desiccated/bare-bones as opposed to the full-flesh pretty vampire. To my mind, this is actually one of the things that makes the vampire weaker than the lich: it still NEEDS the body more.

I’m also a big fan of the ornate deathmask concealing the face; as you may recall, the death-mask is the holy symbol of the Undying Court. We could get into a much longer discussion about the symbolism of that mask, but that’s not about Erandis.

(DoctorBadWolf) I think that a Lich of her power could also simply choose what her body looks like, since it is just a…shell to house her soul and giver her being focus and form. This would be similar to the illusion magic, except that she’s physically altering her body to look a certain way. Ultimately, it’s a lie, but it’s one you can poke with a stick without revealing, as it were. Also, for some reason I have this image of her dragonmark sometimes writhing on her skin, or glowing, or other strange effects, like it has a will, and is…imprisoned by her undeath.
Perhaps it’s difficult for her to keep her body in the form she remembers, as the centuries pass and her memory gets less distinct. Perhaps she no longer looks at all natural, but more like the image of an adolescant elf from the imagination of someone who has never seen one, with too high cheek bones and eyes too large, etc. Another creepy and tragic option.

Sure; if you’re using a 3.5 variant, that’s a second level spell (alter self as opposed to disguise self). A trivial action for a wizard of her power. So there’s no question that it’s within her power to look however she wants to look. The question is what her base form looks like, and the point I’ll make here is that she didn’t do this to herself. It’s not her spell. Her parents turned her into a lich while she was most likely just a fledgling wizard. This is why I hold to the idea that she doesn’t know where her phylactery is – because it’s not HER phylactery, it’s something her parents designed to protect her. In a sense, she is a prisoner in her own undeath. Hence, I like the idea that she can hide from her natural form using the magic she’s learned; but her default state is one that’s forced upon her. It’s as perfect as undeath can be. It’s immortality without any need for blood or anything else. But it remains undeath: a cold life without the physical joys that come with our physical weaknesses. Again, it’s why the Aereni will raise someone from the dead as opposed to making them Deathless if they die too young; they haven’t had time to experience all that true life has to offer.

Now again, I’m all for the artistic shaping of the lich form – bones of ebony, runic engravings, and so on. I just like that form being clearly dead because that’s what it is – a soul torn from the natural cycle of life and death and kept in place by the darkest of forces.

My final point here is that I want a clear distinction between deathless and undead. Per 4E, the Mabaran forces are so dangerous that if the lich “lifts its reactor shielding” it can kill anyone who comes within 25 feet. The line of Vol maintained that their Mabaran techniques were superior to those of the Undying Court because they ensured that the undead could survive on its own – that it could take what it needed from the world, while the Deathless rely on the energy being given. As such, I don’t see the fundamental principle of Vol’s line being “serenity”; I see it as grim determination to battle death to the end.

Changing topics, bear in mind that the modern religion of the Blood of Vol is not the faith of the line of Vol. It is a modern adaptation that has gone in a different direction. The line of Vol was content with lichdom as a form of immortality. For the modern faith, undeath is not the answer; it’s a temporary measure. The goal of the modern faith is to unlock the divine spark of the soul and to acheive personal divinity as a living being… and the belief is that once you’re undead, this spark is lost. This is backed up by the fact that Erandis can’t use her mark. Essentially, she’s immortal yet forever denied her true potential. The goal of the Seeker is to get the potential; those who become undead are in fact martyrs.

(Edymnion) I would question Erandis not knowing what her own phylactery was for that very reason.  If her body is destroyed, as per being a lich she’ll always reform from the corpse closest to her phylactery.  I would assume this has happened to her several times over the millenia, and that she’s smart enough to realize that she keeps waking back up in the same general area that she’d start testing it.  Laying out some gentle repose bodies and waiting for the next time and seeing which one she wakes up in next.  Repeat until she finds it, if she didn’t already know where it was.  After all, she’s very clever, and she’s been a lich for a very long time, its not like she’s got that much else to do.

My point is EXACTLY that. If she follows the standard rules and reforms in the immediate area of her phylactery, then she’ll know where it is. And if she can figure it out, so can the Deathguard or her enemies in Argonnessen. Most liches transform themselves. They’re already powerful wizards. Erandis wasn’t; it was a last ditch effort by a powerful wizard determined to keep her in existence at all costs. Thus, my assertion is that she DOESN’T reform near her phylactery. She reforms in a random, unpredictable location. Thus, she was probably killed a half-dozen times in the first century after her rebirth, before she grew in power and found a safe haven. But each time, she appeared somewhere new and it took her enemies time to track her down again. And over time she became that powerful wizard.

There’s nothing on it one way or the other in canon sources. It’s simply my personal opinion based on the fact that her state is something that was done to her instead of by her, and done with the determination to preserve her against extremely powerful and brilliant enemies.

As always, this isn’t canon and I’d love to hear what you’ve done in YOUR Eberron. If you’ve got comments on the Bloodsails article, post those here too! If you’ve got other questions or topics for future posts, ask in this thread.

So, the subject of the day: when I was working with Bill Slaviscek, James Wyatt, and Chris Perkins on the original Eberron Campaign Setting book, we agreed that there would be certain topics that would never have a concrete answer. No sourcebook would ever say exactly what caused the Mourning or bring back the Mark of Death. These things are hooks specifically left in the hands of the DMs – so you get to decide what the answer is and what impact it will have on your game. However, people are often curious to get my opinion. So let’s talk about the Mark of Death.

But first, a little history…

Let’s take a quick step back in the past to look at the history of Aerenal and the elves. The elves who founded Aerenal were refugees from many backgrounds and cultures. One thing linked them together: the cataclysmic loss they had suffered as a race, and the determination to ensure that the greatest elves should be preserved from death. As the new nation took shape, three philosophic and religious movements took root. One group was determined to preserve the heroes of the past by becoming their avatars in the present. These were the first of the Tairnadal, and they soon split off from the others. The second group tapped the positive energy found on the island and the reverence of the elves, and used this power to sustain the wisest and most worthy members of society beyond the grave. This was the foundation of the Undying Court. The final faction shared territory with the followers of the Court, but favored a different approach. Despite the power of the Undying Court, it relies on the continued existence of living elves and outside sources of positive energy. This other faction preferred to draw on the energies of Mabar, creating undead who could sustain their own lives by consuming the blood or life-force of others. The necromancers who created these liches and vampires were the members of the line of Vol.

The members of the line of Vol held these beliefs for thousands of years before the Mark of Death manifested among them. They weren’t alone; the Bloodsail Principality is made up of the descendants of other elven lines that were allied with Vol. Over the course of generations, the Undying Court grew more powerful and influential. The priests of the Undying Court asserted that all Mabaran undead consume the life-force of Eberron to sustain themselves – that while a lich may not require blood to survive, its mere existence is a threat to living creatures. The allies of Vol called this a ridiculous political ploy—an excuse to threaten their undead elders.

This tension continued to grow. And then the Mark of Death appeared. This cemented the line of Vol’s position among the Mabaran faction. They continued to research ways to improve their techniques and to pursue true immortality for their people. This quest led them down questionable paths, notably an alliance with a faction of dragons from Argonnessen. These dragons were concerned that the dragonmarks had appeared on the lesser races, and wanted to see if a mark could be made to manifest on a dragon.

Most likely you know where this ends: the birth of the half-dragon Erandis Vol. Things you might not know…

• Dragonmarks don’t manifest until adolescence. Thus Erandis wasn’t immediately seen as a threat. She wasn’t the first half dragon produced in this program; she was simply the only one to manifest the mark. And yes, this means that in my version of Eberron, Erandis is physically an adolescent (albeit an adolescent half-dragon).
• Erandis’ dragonmark is not least, lesser, or greater. It’s not even a Siberys mark. It is something more amazing than all of them… the ultimate distillation of the mark. If she had time to learn to fully harness its powers, there’s no telling what she might have been able to accomplish with it. Essentially, she was a living eldritch machine. And this is what triggered the destruction of her line.

The Undying Court had put up with the existence of the Mabarans for thousands of years, and the existence of the Mark of Death for centuries. The appearance of a dragonmark on a child of Aerenal and Argonnessen changed that. “The Sibling Kings declared that the blood of Vol was to be completely destroyed, since even a drop could destroy all living things.”

So it came to pass. Forces from Argonnessen joined with the Undying Court and battle was joined. The line of Vol was completely eradicated, and its remaining allies either slain, exiled, or sworn to abandon their Mabaran practices. Yet unknown to the Undying Court, Erandis herself survived. Together, her father and mother transformed her into a lich. Even she doesn’t know where her phylactery is; she knows only that she returns in a new location every time she is destroyed. Of course, a dragonmark has no power when carried by the undead. So Erandis Vol is the ultimate scion of her house, the cause of its destruction, and yet unable to achieve her destiny.

(Some of you may say “What was that about her phylactery? I’ve never heard that before.” That’s right. This again is MY Eberron, and that’s not a detail from a canon source. I see it as unlikely that she could have evaded the Deathguard completely for all this time. However, without locating her phylactery, even the Deathguard can’t permanently destroy her. It also means that she cannot destroy herself, and I think she may have tried in the past. And, of course, it means that PCs could find the phylactery and even she wouldn’t know what it was…)

So, history lesson over: let’s get to the main points.

I have a player who wants to have the Mark of Death, and I’m thinking I’ll allow it. What sort of powers should it have?

The Mark of Death was a “true” dragonmark, as opposed to an aberrant dragonmark. There are two things that distinguish these. First, they can be passed to offspring. Second, the true dragonmarks are almost universally constructive as opposed to destructive. There are a few marks with powers that can be used in an aggressive fashion, but the point is that the pure marks are things like making, healing, hospitality – productive, positive things. Meanwhile, aberrant marks are either destructive or in some way disturbing (for examble, Brom’s regeneration in The Son of Khyber, which is a form of healing but essentially reincarnates instead of healing, which can have unpleasant results).
My point is that the Mark of Death should be about interacting with death and the undead, but I wouldn’t make it about KILLING, because that’s an aberrant path. Things like speaking with the dead; animating the dead; controlling or even laying undead to rest; these all fit. It could be that a dragonshard focus item could be created that would harness that power in a destructive fashion – but that’s not the innate power of the mark.
Again, with Erandis Vol: bear in mind that she doesn’t just have the Dragonmark of Death, she has the ultimate expression of that mark, something beyond even a Siberys mark. If she returns to life, Erandis may be able to do things with her mark that no one else could do – raise an army of undead with a wave of her hand – but that’s because she is in essence a living Eldritch Machine.

What About Skeletal Guardian as the power of the Siberys mark?

Sounds fine to me. It’s about animating the dead, which is more in line with my views than an offensive power.

Beyond this, bear in mind that any dragonmark grants powers beyond the raw spell-like abilities… provided you know how to use them. Per standard rules, a dragonmark allows you to make use of dragonmark focus items. So you’ve got the Mark of Making? It’s nice that you can repair a construct, but it’s far more important that you can use a creation forge. The Mark of Storms makes you eligible to be an airship pilot. And so on. So the question is what tools the line of Vol created to harness and channel the power of the Mark of Death.

Likewise, in 4E, dragonmarks allow you to perform certain rituals. In my house rules, I say that you don’t need a ritual book to perform these rituals… but you have to be trained in their use (generally at the same market cost as buying it). There’s only one person out there who could train you in use of the mark, and that’s Erandis. Can you come to some sort of agreement?

I realize some of you may have been hoping for a concrete “the Least Dragonmark of Death lets you use deathwatch once per day,” but the fact of the matter is that I’ve never used it in one of my campaigns. In 4E, I will say that in addition to providing access to focus items and any logical rituals, I’d probably allow someone with the mark to perceive ghosts and to use speak with dead as a skill challenge as opposed to a ritual. I’d likely put a limit on length of death, but I’d personally have the Mark of Death involve interaction with the dead… not to be confused with the Mark of Healing, which prevents people from dying.

So a player character takes the Heir of Siberys Prestige Class and manifests the Mark of Death. Is it possible to re-establish House Vol? Would other Dragonmarked Houses approve its existence or see it as a threat?

You can’t reestablish House Vol, because House Vol never existed. The line of Vol was a noble family as opposed to a mercantile guild, and it was wiped out before the Twelve came into existence. So could you reform the line of Vol? Sure, if you had at least one living elf from the bloodline. The reaction of the dragonmarked houses would be based on whether you were cutting into their businesses in some way. Even if you came up with a mercantile niche using the mark that clashed with one of the houses (Jorasco?), unless you had a LOT of people with the mark and set up a serious commercial endeavor, it’s unlikely the houses will really care. Unlike…

Would the Aereni seek to slay this new heir even if the heir had no interest in vengeance against Aerenal? How would the dragons react to the resurrection of the Lost Mark?

Let me give you that quote again: “The Sibling Kings declared that the blood of Vol was to be completely destroyed, since even a drop could destroy all living things.” Short form: They won’t take it well. The same goes for the dragons. To be clear, this isn’t about YOU. Again, the Mark of Death was around for 600 years before the eradication, and that includes Siberys marks. The reason it needs to be wiped out is because as long as it exists, it is possible that you could produce a new abomination like Erandis. So it doesn’t matter if you’re a nice person or an evil one. It’s a question of eradicating your bloodline.

Now, obviously the game’s no fun if dragons kill you right away. So if I was going to use a returned Mark of Death in my game, I’d do it in one of the following ways:

• Lay low. Can you keep your mark hidden? If you have to use it, can you trust the people who see it?
• Help from above. Perhaps there’s a dragon in the Chamber who’s actively debating with the others and promoting an interpretation of the Prophecy that shows that your Mark is vital to the future. Perhaps Erandis or a Lord of Dust is working to hide you from your potential powerful enemies… though this might not be a good thing.

Of course if your goal is to go public and announce “I HAVE THE MARK OF DEATH” in fiery letters? In MY Eberron that’s just not going to end well for you. But hey, if you want to play things differently, do that.

How would the Valenar feel about a reborn Mark of Death?

The Tairnadal (the culture of the Valenar) never gave a damn about the line of Vol or the Mark of Death. How they would react to you would vary based on the individual and their ancestor.

How would Lady Vol react? Would she try to influence a person who manifested the Mark of Death?

Oh, definitely. But here, you need to decide what Erandis’s end goal is. Let me throw out a few possibilities.

• The Happy Ending. Erandis is just sad her family got wiped out. She wants her family back, and figures that this will require the destruction of the Undying Court and Argonnessen. This is good news for you, because it means she wants you alive. The next question is how you feel about this. If you’re all for it, great! You can team up, she can help hide your mark, and you can be sent on missions to rally all her scattered allies from the good old days. If you don’t particularly like this idea, the bad news is that the best approach is to chain you in the basement and use you in a breeding program. I don’t see a lot of reason for subtlety here, although it may take her a while to find out that you HAVE the mark; one of her minions has to find out about it, pass the info along, and then she has to find you.
• Queen of Death. Erandis believes that her destiny is to BECOME death… to replace the Keeper and claim dominion over Dolurrh and all mortal souls. The good news is that this doesn’t necessarily require her to, say “destroy all living things.” The bad news is that your reestablishing the line of Vol doesn’t help HER achieve her destiny. More likely, she’s going to try to come up with some way to use your blood, heart, or other random organs to return to life so she can unlock her Mark and use her destiny. How she’ll manipulate you is tied to what she needs to do to achieve this. Essentially, you’re part of a recipe. “Take one living heir with the Mark of Death, add paragon tier, add the gaze of Belashyrra, add a trip to Mabar, and sacrfice.” So it’s really up to the DM to decide what she needs you to do before you’re a suitable sacrifice… and how subtle she’ll have to be to accomplish these things. With that said… Again, Erandis accomplishing her goal isn’t necessarily bad; you won’t know until she does it and you find out if she makes a good Queen of the Dead. So one possibility is that you find a way to help return her to life that DOESN’T involve sacrificing you. Heck, if she goes ahead and ascends, it may be that the dragons will come to the conclusion that they were off-base in their reading of the Prophecy and leave you alone afterwards.
• The Unhappy Ending. Remember that “even a drop could destroy all living things” line? Unfortunately, Erandis thinks THAT’S her destiny. So this is the same as the above, but the outcome is bad for everyone; there’s no helping her do it.

So the short form is that I can’t answer this. It’s up to your DM to decide what Vol is trying to do, if there’s any room for compromise, and if her best course of action is heavy-handed or subtle. With that said, if I did it, I’d definitely go the Queen of Death route and have a big list of conditions that need to be met before you’re ready for the sacrifice. It’s basically the same as having a shaper dragon interested in you as described in The Chamber article that went up last month.

Feel free to ask additional questions about Erandis or the Mark of Death, or to share your own experiences!

WHAT TV MASH-UP DO YOU WANT TO SEE?

With last week’s question we tried to scry into the future of Dungeons & Dragons. My thirteen favorite answers can be found below – for the full set, check the comments on this thread!

4/19: What’s The Biggest Surprise in D&D Next?

1. Spending healing surges and drinking healing potions will require you to pay “The Iron Price”.

2. Instead of spells, characters will have access to dubious factoids written by John Hodgman.

3. Due to typographical error, no pants!

4. Not only are all dragonmarks available to all characters, a new “individual mandate” requires every character to have a dragonmark. The Conclave of Argonessen condemns this law as running counter to the intent of the Prophecy.

5. Fighting claims that D&D is just a World of Warcraft clone now, all maps will be drawn with Rogue-like ASCII art.

6. In order to attract better demographics, the new version will be renamed B&B: Babes & Beholders.

7. Choices for familiar are now limited to: snowy white owl or rat that is secretly a family enemy.

8. Due to inflation, the major book on religious entities will be renamed Deities and Milligods.

9. If you create a Shifter PC or a Vampire PC, you owe Stephanie Meyer 1d8 dollars per level in royalties. If it’s a Shifter Vampire PC, the penalty increases to 3d8 dollars per level.

10. All dungeons will come with a delicious nougat center.

11. WotC has announced an RPG sourcebook tie-in based on the phenomenally-successful action film Battleship.

12. Paizo somehow still has more success with a new 4E clone than WotC did.

13. Rabid fans of old-school games will complain that this version has words, and rules, and decent art. Rabid fans of new-school games will complain that this version has dungeons, dragons.

These articles aren’t canon in any way. This is NOT a place for me to provide the sort of Eberron material you’ll get on the WotC website. The Eye on Eberron articles I write for WotC are essentially content you could find in an Eberron sourcebook. By contrast, Dragonmarks are more what it would be like if you had a chance to ask me a question at a convention: informal and just my personal opinion. If I’m going to answer your question, it needs to fit this format. If you just say “I’d like to know more about the Lhazaar Principalities” I’m going to say “And I wish I had the opportunity to write more about them. If you say “What’s the relationship between House Thuranni and the Bloodsail Principalities?” I’ll say “It’s actually something we don’t discuss at all, but given that the ancestors of both fled from Aerenal following the destruction of the Mark of Death, I think there’s room for something interesting. I might do this…” Of course, it will still be conversational in tone, as opposed to a sourcebook-ready chunk about Bloodsails & Thuranni.

I’m also happy to have questions or issues that people want to discuss. Someone’s brought up what might happen if Boranel died. When I answer this, I’d love to see anyone else who’s had Boranel die chip in with their experiences. Where Eye on Eberron is an article, this is more of a conversation. We’ve always encouraged DMs to make Eberron their own. I’ll tell you MY answer, but I’d love to hear yours.

SO: The following questions would be great.
“Why doesn’t the Dreaming Dark kill PCs early on while they are weak?”
“Why’s the Church of the Silver Flame allow evil people to be priests?”
“What’s your favorite theory about the Mourning?”
“What’s the point of having the Mourning in the setting?
“Who do you think would win the next war?”
“Why is Queen Aurala so unlikeable?”
“Do planes like Fernia have civilizations?”

The following questions AREN’T so likely to get answered.
“Can you tell us more about the planes?”
“I’d like (game system) stats for the (insert thing here).”
“I’d like to know more about Zilargo.”
… again, either too general or too concrete (in the case of stats).

I look forward to your questions!