Introduction

The sacred crest of the Order of the Stone Weasel Adventuring Guild.

Once upon a time, there was a magical land called Nezdriodel. Upon this fair and exciting place, all sorts of interesting folks roamed.

The noble Humans forged the grandest and most impressive of empires with their shimmering Knights and majestic castles. Their people were the greatest in all the realm because they were led by a chivalrous and benevolent patron deity named Valtus.

The primordial Elves tended to their mystical glade, preserving the beauty and majesty of the natural places of the world. Their people were the greatest in all the realm because they were immortal, and could never know the ravages of disease or death.

The eccentric Dwarves locked themselves inside their mountain fortresses, where they unearthed great secrets and pushed the boundaries of technology and culture. Their people were the grandest in all the realm because they cultivated arts and sciences like no other people before them.

The rowdy Firbolgs lived bold and loud lives, chugging grand brew and causing a great many rumbles all in the name of fun throughout their land. Their people were the grandest in all the realm because they were united under the banner of a powerful Fire Giant named Big Chief Gabbergut.

For many years, the grand civilizations of Nezdriodel kept to themselves, building their cultures and cultivating their lands. Sure, occasional tussles between them occurred, but for the most part, everyone minded their own business. There was plenty of room for everyone, and relative peace washed over the land.

On the continent of Nezdriodel was a mysterious swath of land known as The Foglands, where a thick and roiling fog constantly churned and billowed. The great civilizations of the realm instinctively knew this was a place of mystery and kept their distance from there. One day, the Foglands slowly began to expand, blanketing the entire continent in a mysterious haze of fog from which colorful caravans filled with curious newcomers to the land emerged all over Nezdriodel’s great Kingdoms.

Alas, the wily Gnomes had arrived. Their people were the grandest in all the realm because they had the fantastic ability to travel to any destination or plane of existence where the fogs of fate could take them. 

These enigmatic travelers warned the 4 great civilizations of a grand evil that threatened to rot the very core of the realm, and their elders and seers gave grim warnings of events to come for the next 50 years. One month after they had arrived, the Fogs shrank back to their normal borders within The Foglands.

The Gnomes traveled far and wide, pleading to Human, Elf, Dwarf and Firbolg leaders that they would all need to gather their strength to face the coming tide of evil. The land was bountiful and peace was abundant, and so, none of the great civilizations heeded the advice of these eccentric wanderers.

Since the dawning of time, the Northwest corner of the continent of Nezdriodel has emitted an overwhelming evil. There, in the putrid and sweltering jungles, an evil plotted and schemed. The land itself pulsated with wickedness, and the native Species of Nezdriodel had no desire to settle there, and this was for good reason. This savage kingdom was known as Liashaar, named thus after the wicked sorceress that rules the place. Her name was Liashan, and she was a powerful and ancient Medusa Queen. She was vain, wicked, and overall just not a very good neighbor.

You see, the people of Nezdriodel, by and large, were of good hearts and natures. Sure, the Humans were a bit snooty, the Elves were a bit standoffish, the Dwarves were a bit eccentric, the Firbolg were a bit unruly and the Gnomes were a bit mischievous, but their hearts were generally pure (enough). This overwhelming force of good that permeated Nezdriodel formed a kind of barrier around Liashaar, seeing that the vile beings within it were contained and left to their own dreadful devices.

Now, the thing with evil people is, they don’t like being cooped up in one spot. They like to mix things up and spread their particular brand of evil all over the place and ruin everyone’s day, and Lisahan was no different. She amassed an army of deranged Serpentfolk cultists, devoted gargoyle servitors and ruthless stone giants who built up their forces and bided their time, awaiting the perfect time to strike.

Liashan plotted, designed and schemed, and came up with a real naughty plan that could free her and her army from their sweltering jungle prison. She deduced that the land itself around her was pulsating with good, which kept her and her forces at bay due to their endless evil. In order for her to free herself from her bondage, she would need to tip the balance of the land more towards her favor, and weaken it with some very evil stuff. Once this was done, the gates of her cage would be loosened enough where her and her minions could slither out and rightfully claim Nezdriodel as her own.

Seeing that it was her destiny to rule over all of Nezdriodel, Liashan went about the grim work of poisoning the land itself. After many years and endless sacrifices to her dark god, the Medusa Queen succeeded at summoning forth a massive god-like snake being named Hissfah from the same dark realm that Liashan spawned from. The crafty Medusa Queen knew that she could not keep Hissfah in this realm for long, and so, she pleaded with the colossal snake god to sink his fangs into the earth and fill it with its corrupting venom.

Pleased with the sacrifices and loyal service of Liashan, Hissfah agreed, and before returning back to his home dimension, the vile snake god’s fangs tasted deep into the soil, filling the soil itself with virulent poison that streaked through each of the great kingdoms of Nezdriodel.

This poison spouted from Hissfah’s vile fangs affected each Kingdom of Nezdriodel and its people in different and horrible ways.

Humans found that their dead began to rise as horrible creatures of rotting flesh and horrid bone known as the Undead. Those who rose from the grave were forever out of reach of Valtus’ infinite mercy. What worse fate could the pious Humans imagine?

Dwarves found their underground lairs overrun with warped beings of moss and fungus known as Danklurkers. These strange and malevolent beings feed off of creativity and intelligence, and favor capturing Dwarves and stocking them in their underground larders, feasting on their brilliance and leaving them as mindless, pliant slaves. What worse fate could the ingenious Dwarves imagine?

Elves found that their immortality was stripped from them, and now they could truly wither and wilt from disease, or even feel the cold clutches of death’s embrace. What worse fate could the eternal Dryads and Nymphs imagine?

Firbolgs found that Big Chief Gabbergut had become poisoned himself after bathing in a poison pool of lava. The venom killed the massive Fire Giant in minutes, and left the Firbolgs without a leader to unite them. In the span of hours, the once-united Firbolg people split into countless Gangs and immediately began to do battle with themselves. Worse yet, one particularly malevolent Gang of Firbolgs named the Hungry Hills Boys believed that since Gabbergut was the biggest, toughest guy around, that eating his remains would in turn make them the heirs to that strength. Horrifically, this gang devoured most of the Fire Giant and remain the most bloodthirsty and vile gang of all. What worse fate could the once-united Firbolgs imagine?

Gnomes found that where once they could wander effortlessly from one plane of existence to another through the roiling fogs of mystery, they were now trapped within the realm of Nezdriodel. What worse fate could the nomadic Gnomes imagine?

The grief, misery and sadness that Hissfah’s poison enacted on the land was enough to weaken the aura of Good that permeated the very soil of the realm, and Liashan giddily realized that she was free to conduct as much badness as she could imagine. Her bloodthirsty army poured out of the steaming jungles that had imprisoned them for eons, and like some grim wave, Nezdriodel shook to its core as the earth was drenched in blood. 13 years of chaos and suffering followed, with the fractured Kingdoms of Nezdriodel struggling to fend off the vile Medusa Queen and her forces.

Sadly, the wanderlust-struck Gnomish people watched in horror as their grim prophecy came to fruition before their eyes. Once more, they implored the Humans, Elves, Dwarves and Firbolgs to stand together against Liashan and her evil, and this second time, their pleas were not ignored.

The Humans were first to pledge their support, for a vile evil can only be defeated by a grand good, and their deity Valtus was indeed the purest of beings.

Ever logical and astute, the intellectual Dwarves knew that the odds of victory against Liashan and her forces of darkness were slim to none, and so they lended their support to this union.

The distant Elves, horrified at the poisoning of the land itself, immediately and passionately joined the growing resistance to the Medusa Queen’s assault.

The unruly Firbolgs, always looking for a good fight and tired of battling amongst themselves, decided that they wanted to participate in what was assured to be the biggest rumble that Nezdriodel had ever seen, and they leant their strength to the cause.

Overjoyed, the Gnomes bravely threw in their lot with the united four grand civilizations of Nezdriodel, and it was not soon after this that Liashan knew defeat for the first time, as she now faced a unified force instead of fractured kingdoms. Victory after victory followed this unified front, and after a grueling campaign, the threat of Liashan and her hordes were pushed back into the steamy jungles of her forbidden kingdom.

The only question remains…for how long?

Present Day

The war is at a tense standstill, with Liashan retreating (for the time being) back to her massive temple to regroup and rally her forces. Meanwhile, the 5 united Civilizations of Nezdriodel take the respite from constant war to lick their own wounds and prepare for Liashan’s inevitable return.

Many generals in the allied army against Liashan implore to push into Liashaar and vanquish the Medusa Queen once and for all, but the troops are exhausted from years of constant warfare, and an all out assault at the present time is too risky a thing.   

Meanwhile, the venom-filled spawning pools formed by Hissfah still birth foul monsters of all kinds, and Nezdriodel is in desperate need of brave adventurers from all corners of the realm to aid in the quelling of the endless horrors that slog their way from the caustic pools. As one pool of toxic poison dries, others form elsewhere, and it is rumored that only once Liashan herself is destroyed for good will the stream of venom stop infecting Nezdriodel.

The Order of the Stone Weasel

With the standing armies and militias of the 5 great civilizations of Nezdriodel engaged in a fierce stalemate with the forces of Liashan, a plucky, famed order of adventurers and do-gooders devoted to protecting the suffering peoples of Nezdriodel formed. Founded by a mysterious and powerful adventurer known only as Grandweasel, the Order of the Stone Weasel has become the most influential and sought after Adventuring Guild in Nezdriodel. Grandweasel’s identity is a complete mystery, and no one is quite sure what species Grandweasel calls their own, or even the gender of this enigmatic individual. The Order emblem is a ferocious and regal stone weasel (duh), standing alertly on its hind legs. The colors associated with the guild are grey, orange and white.  

The Order of the Stone Weasel is an elite adventuring guild, and as such, has a hierarchy all its own. You cannot apply for membership into the Order, and must be invited officially. After venturing to the Guild’s Chapter house in Bravehold, applicants must endure a rigorous screening process where their abilities are tested. Those who pass this test are granted the rank of Initiate and given a written certificate of membership. After proving yourself a valuable member of the order, you are awarded the rank of Warden. Most members of the Order of the Stone Weasel are of Warden rank, and a sterling Signet ring is granted to members of this level. Distinguished service as a Warden and exemplary service grants the lofty title of True Warden. A rare few members attain the rank of High Warden, and open a Chapter House all their own.

Groups of Initiatives and Wardens are grouped together in traveling parties known as Bands. The Grand Chapter House in Bravehold matches up personnel in Bands where the abilities of the Band members complement each other. True Wardens are often powerful enough to venture out on their own, but several bands have formed enduring bonds through the years.

The Order has Chapter Houses dotted throughout Nezdriodel. Any member can request lodging, food and drink or equipment and aid from any Chapter House they come upon in their travels. The Order holds its Headquarters in the Grand Chapter House located in the town of Bravehold in the Kingdom of Valtmoor.

The Order of the Stone Weasel does not discriminate against any sex or Species, and has members from all walks of life and backgrounds. All Order prospects must be truly heroic (IE adventurers and not common extras or basic NPCs) and must have hearts that are pure. This isn’t to say that all Order members are perfect, but they are all, at their core, good natured and naturally opposed to truly wretched behavior.