A History of Shamanism in Tarnzania

So today I repelled another attack of half men beasts, I assume sent from Kragrock Spire to retrieve certain books and... Illicit photosophorus crystals that I may have stolen from one of the high priestess' of She'lar the Goddess of the orgy pile. The books of course were in the library, the crystals however are in my bed side table... Regardless, in the aftermath of the battle I was repairing some of my damaged books when I came along McTwiddleshinns' book of "Forbidden Texts" While McTwiddleshinns has largely been discredited as a drunk and a fool his time among the shamans is of definite note, and he is one of the few who spent any time with the southern goblin pygmy tribes, Well, one of the few to ever  spend any time with them and not be eaten. Unfortunately when I happened across the same goblin tribes, I had to wipe them out... They were trying to eat my guides face... You just can't have that in a civilized culture. So now there really isn't anyone to check his references. Oh you bleeding hearts from the future, I can see you, Kevice how could you? Don't they have feelings? Booohooohooo, They were goblins! stack 5 of them on top of each other and they barely make one person! You know what else has feelings? Erdrich god minds from the dimensions beyond! And not a damn one of you complained when I defended us by murdering Guuurachhhh-Ifkkklyupupup and consuming his essence! Anyway, heres an excerpt from Mc Twiddleshinn's book. I hope you enjoy it you damn bleeding heart drum circle beating druid hippies.

A History of Shamanism in Tarnzania

“An excerpt from “Forbidden Texts: A Beginner’s Guide to Sorcery vol. 5” by Svarson McTwiddleshinns”,

Shamanism is type of magic that has been looked down upon by the “learned” mages of the various universities of our realm, and rather ironically so. The forces of nature are usually the first powers a fledgling mage learns to bend to his/her will, usually through basic fire conjury or illusion. But it only through understanding nature magic that a mage can become truly adept at his art, and to remain ignorant of its importance is perhaps the greatest sin a wizard can perform, with the exception of anything coming out of Kragrock these days.

It is the opinion of the author, and as such not entirely acknowledged by the colleges of Eula or Vesper, that shamanism originated in elven history, rather than among the goblins of the south. Surely the elves, with their deep connection to the elements and their oral traditions, fit the niche shamans reside in.

Based on written accounts on early tribes of elves, the shaman figure differed from the “leader” of the tribe, and could be seen as perhaps a religious person. The shaman was usually female, in keeping with the regularity of female deities. Often the keeper of stories, the shaman would be in charge of educating her people, and advising the tribal leader in matters regarding arcane, environmental, and in some cases, for war. In base elven, the word shaman means ‘one who knows the way’, in reference to the shaman often guiding the actions of the group.

With regards to matters arcane and healing, the shaman consulted the spirits of the elements to understand sickness and magic. In doing so, elves became the first pharmacologists, feeling through plants and trees the cures to dispel the ‘evil spirits’ from the infected body. Mysteries of nature, such as sudden storms or long droughts were investigated by the shamans, and revealed to be elementals. These natural guardians served the ‘Great Mother’ Chantea, and through her will set the cycle of the seasons. Through Chantea, the elves learned the ways of the seasons, which each terrible winter only heralded a soothing spring, and these early teachings shaped the way they viewed their world.

Then, a rift occurred between the elves and the descendents of the primal shamans. Naturally gifted with shamanistic abilities, these new offshoot of elves became known as shifters. Shifters have little status in elven society, in spite of their ancestry. Most elves maintain that shamans exist only to remind them of their primitive past, and many shifters have been forced into exile. These shifters have the ability to transform their bodies into various forms similar to animals, which is seen as an affront to elven sensibilities, who regard the wonders of nature as sacrosanct. Nonetheless, some elven communities still honor the old ways, and house wayward shifters in their homes. More often than not, shifters become druids or shamans, in order to understand and communicate via their supernatural connection to the natural world.

Meanwhile, below the surface of the Tarnzania, a slightly different variation of shamanism emerged. The hardy dwarves, who despite their rough countenance are actually rather contemplative, sought a way to control the ground that made up their home. The ability to scavenge the subterranean tunnels and defend against predators prompted a form of warrior shamans, who learned to tame beasts through a form of spirit transference. These bonds are also found in early elven myths, wherein shamans bound spirits of the dead to fetishes to control them. Several monasteries still stand where dwarves learn the mysteries of stone, and some say, still learn the ancient arts of stone-walking, in which a master can pass through solid stone as you and I walk to the kitchens. Stone-walking, as well as the ability to shape stone with the mind alone, are all feats discovered through the dwarf-clans’ shamans, and through their belief in Morradin, the lord of the earth.

The war-like goliaths of the mountains also learned the art of communing with the land, mostly through dwarven interference. The dwarves, in addition to teaching a common language, helped instruct the barbarians on religion as well, although it is interesting to note that the goliaths turned their eyes skyward for their respective deity in Selune, the goddess of the moon. The goliaths, already adept at finding game and water in the mountains, channeled the powers of nature into themselves, and in so doing became part-rock. The goliaths learned at great cost their mistake in tampering with forces they didn’t quite understand. However, the resilient goliath tribe came out of the cataclysm relatively unharmed, with the exception of rocky lithoderms dotting their skin, becoming living armor.

Even in the early civilizations of men, shamans were prevalent to unravel the primal mysteries of the world, usually incorrectly. Occupying the lands west of the great forests of the elves, human settlers learned the arts of medicine from the shamans of the Wispwoods. With a surprising ability to turn whatever power given into warfare, the humans were able to summon elemental creatures to combat other tribes. These battles between summoned creatures occur occasionally today, often to settle disputes among the more unruly villages on the plains. Thankfully, as the being who is reading this passage is obviously more intelligent than a common farmhand playing at magic, then he/she/it (?) would be wise enough to consult my book on the subject of summoning eldritch creatures, “Essential Elementals for the Undermage in Training: How to Bend the World Itself to Your Will”.

Swizzle Spitzwater: Origin of the Goblin Thief King

One of the most prolific newcomers on the Tarnzania political scene has been the Spitzwater Clan, a clan of shrewd Goblins that ignored that call to Kragrock Spire that many of their brethren followed. While the Kragrock Spire goblins were all merged into the Kragrock cheap labor pool, quickly becoming slaves for the more powerful human over lords of the city. The Spitzwater clan took advantage of the lack of goblins outside the city and quickly took over their territories, all under the watchful eye of their Thief King. The Spitzwater clan has become a staunch ally of the wizards of Eula in their war against Kragrock Spire, hoping to be able to liberate and then absorb the goblins that are in the city into the fold of clan adding back into their power.


What I have below is the notes and histories that I have on Swizzle Spitzwater and parts of his inner circle.  As well as the rise of the Spitzwater Clan in general.
Swizzle Spitzwater was a proud member of the Spitzwater goblin clan, until the day that a roving band of adventurers slaughtered his people in an effort to raid the temple that Swizzle’s people had guarded for eons or something, Swizzle had never payed much attention to the whole history of his people, instead he would show up to temple guard duty hold his pointy stick and look menacing until his shift supervisor left and then he would ditch his station at the alarm horn and  spend the rest of his guard shift sneaking through the various traps and dangers  that the temple held. Some might argue that because of Swizzle abandoning his post, that was the reason that his people were murdered so ruthlessly, and throuhly, ever the optimist, Swizzle left town remember that there had been 4 similar raids in the last 2 years, only half of them could be construed as his fault, and the goblins had always bounced back. While it was best that people thought he was dead he decided that it was time to travel the world, it quickly became apparent that even despite a Goblin’s good intentions ( or proclaimed good intentions) that he would not be welcomed in the world of people, thankfully skulking around the temple and dodging the attention of authority  figures had blessed Swizzle’s already sneaky and graceful nature with the experience necessary to steal enough food and money to survive, and eventually the joy of theft and the adrenaline of subterfuge outweighed the necessity of food and Swizzle began to take greater and greater risks, it was after a particularly successful night, in which swizzle had managed to break into a Halfling home and steal everything that wasn’t nailed down, some things that were nailed down, and the nails, without waking a single occupant, that he set down camp in the woods near a clearing, planning on burying his stash the next day. Upon waking Swizzle could barely open his eyes and his head felt foggy, trying to stand up, he realized that he was in a cage made for a much smaller animal ( a bird perhaps). He had been captured by the famed circus and traveling freak show of Don Pannuci, a merciless Halfling businessman who had scouts combing the country side looking for fresh talent and new oddities for his Halfling crowd.  Pannuci’s goblin juggler had come down with a sudden case of outspokenness and suffered a long fire related death, So Pannuci was in the market for a new one. Ever the showman Swizzle agreed with out thinking and blacked out with pain as Pannuci thrust a branding iron into his arm, marking him forever as circus property. As years passed Swizzle gained an excellent reputation for his slight of hand tricks, acrobatic amazements and flourishing personality among Pannuci’s patrons, unbeknownst to them, Swizzle was also instructed to slit and purses and grab any wallets to finance the circus’s growing coffers. As the years passed Swizzle plotted and waited, determined to bring down Pannuci’s fantasy circus land around his ears all while robbing him blind. When a large dark confused minotaur was brought in for feats of strength Swizzle immediately felt an inexplicable companionship with him, perhaps it was that opposites attract so  thoroughly, but it was at this time that swizzles plans finally began to be set into motion.
               

Late one night after an incredibly packed show swizzle picked his way into the freak tent and let loose the more unsavory beasts , and began hurling light lanterns at the several tents, causing Pannuci  and his men to panic, running about, trying to save their precious investment. Breaking into Pannuci’s wagon, Swizzle grabbed as much gold and affects as he could and hurried to release his brother in captivity, the minotaur. After escape, Swizzle was followed closely by Pannuci always staying one step in front of the diabolical halfling. It wasn't until years later that Swizzle was able to trick Pannuci into stepping foot inside what was an obvious goblin encampment where he was attacked and killed. Using his gifts of persuasion Swizzle began to lead these goblins on raids against human settlements and caravans, eventually becoming their war chief, even though he still prefered the title of Thief King. Eventually goblins began to flock to Swizzle's amazing clan, changing their way of life from a roving band, to a more settled group, and construction began on Twistee, the first free goblin capital. 

Swizzle is small for a goblin, maxing out height wise at 3 ft even, at the tips of his ears. His small stature and years of sneaking have made him the optimal theif and cutpurse, and sometimes unwilling assassian.  Despite his rough hard smoking and hard drinking exterior, Swizzle considers himself  a charming fellow with a heart of gold, despite what everyone else might say. Being of many words, few of substance, Swizzle will try to talk his way out of any fight before resorting to violence, and will run from almost any fight, especially with odds that are slightly not in his favor. Willing to bet anything except his life on any bet, from horse races to back alley dice games, Swizzle is a chronic gambler and desperate lady’s man. Though he is a social beacon, he only has one true confidant, in his minotaur companion, a friend ship that defies all the rules that Swizzle lives by, and the only person he’d ever stake his life on, no matter the odds. Incredibly racist against all elves, no real reason why, just really cannot stand the tall gorgeous bastards, probably due to his small size and grizzly looks.  Other companions are considered ruebs and suckers, and fair game for pranks, pick pocketing and general berating. He is the self proclaimed leader of any group, and is generally never ever ever in any real position of responsibility

The Crystaline World Experience: NOT FOR EULA COLLEGE EYES

One of the things that a wizard learns to cope with is regret, we all live long lives, far too long, and make many many bad decisions. What if I hadn't mixed those ingredients? What if I had gone to a different school of magic? What if I could have saved her? … ANYWAY. Where was I? Long lives, consequences... Oh yes, this leaves you with a lot of what if questions that keep you up at night. One night, after a particularly dangerous day in the nether roads, and a even more dangerous run in with a bottle of eon aged Elder Fire Wine I started development on a new experiment. One which I could never tell the guild about. I created my first crystalis with the help of a Helaq the fracture smith (a brilliant shardmind that I had met on one of my travels, and brought in to work on my more secretive projects). This first crystalis was the first of its kind, so let me explain what It is, a crystalis is a pocket universe that is housed within a crystal containment chamber, Thats right, I, KEVICE DUSKSTRIDER, tower warden of the Dhu-at Spire, created a universe and recreated life. I'm not saying that I am on par with the gods, but there are like 40 of them that gathered together and made reality and only one of me who has made (at current count) 6892 different universes. No big. This is not something that the College of Magics would smile on, either in Kragrock Spire or Eula, they think no man should have the power over an infinite universe. Wusses. No wizard tells Kevice what to do, just like how no neanderthal with a sword, or some slimy snake with a crossbow has any right to tell any wizard what to do. Its like a mouse telling a cat how to act, only the cat exists in every dimension, can summon fire, and could unravel the very fibers of the mouse, erasing it from existence with its UNHOLY KITTY MIND. I may have hit the Elder Wine again... I wish Helaq was still here, there was a crystaline intelligence bound to flawless carbon enforced rubyglass who knew how to drink!... I really wish that he hadn't been shattered by that wretched demon in the armory... Maybe I should make another crystalis...

I've digressed, each of these crystalis-es-es have a minature recreation of our universe, with only one or two minor changes made, it is a comfort to me to know that somewhere there is a Kevice who made all the right decisions. I have studied these worlds, and have taken copious notes on them. Just in case I ever get the ultimate powers and just decide to recreate all reality in my image... You know, Just 'cuz.

I just hope that nothing ever happens to me, without perfect conditions that I maintain these worlds would be destroyed, and infinite lives would be snuffed out in a flash. I ALSO hope that I am in fact not in a crystalis of ANOTHER Kevice who had the same idea that I had... Thats far too cerebral for even my MAGNIFICENT WIZARD BRAIN to comprehend, I'm sure that it just melted your poor mind, my apologies to whomever has to clean that up.