Germaine wrote:For me, Kalidnay has always had the same problem as Dark Sun in general. I find DS to be a unique and fascinating setting packed with flavor, but, for the life of me, can't figure out exactly what to do with it.
I've never played in Dark Sun, but I always thought it should be treated as some sort of post-apocalypse place. Still not Gothic horror, but then again, neither is G'Henna.
Perhaps emphasize the decay: Kalidnay was once a glorious city, but is now barely even a shadow of itself, all but empty, its once-epic buildings laying empty and in disrepair. Sort of like a desert-y Richemulot.
Germaine wrote: I suppose you could also do some kind of Jaws/ Tentacles-style scenario with a silt horror, but that's probably way more B-movie than remotely "Gothic".
With a bit of work, it could be more Lovecraftian than B-movie. For instance, you could make Thakok-An into a cultist rather than a Templar (it's been too long since I've read DS stuff, I've forgotten what they even are, game-wise), or instead of half-elf, she could be a half-elder thing, a pretty, pointy-eared Wilbur Whately. Who knows what horrors she has under that mask and those robes. And the "Dragon" that Kalid-Ma was attempting to become is actually their interpretation of a Cthulhoid horror.
Huh. Now I want my party to go there.
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- Bug Hunt. A Thri-kreen finds its way into the city streets of [insert domain, let's say Port-a-Lucine]. It is killed, and the bug hunt is on. Where did this mysterious and horrid monster come from? False leads to Timor and Paridon. Perhaps the body is stolen and reanimated in Falkovnia as the first in an attempt for covert bug soldiers. All leading to Kalidnay, where the PCs find out that this bug monster they have been searching for to stop is actually one of a living, thinking, and while strange still very much "human" society.
- Psychic heatwave. People are spontaneously combusting, all because they met a strange man with dark skin and a thick accent in the market place. Follow the man into Kalidnay, where there is a massive heatwave backlash, all because Thakok-An thought raising the temperature may awaken Kalid-Ma.
- Your ship in the Nocturnal Sea comes upon a terrible storm, that rips at the sails and the wood ... but the rain soon turns to sand, and the ship crashes into the Bleak Knoll in the middle of a desert. The PCs have to search the desolate Kalidnay City for a craftsman that may be able to fix the ship and allow it to sail on the Silt Sea.
- The Tournament! Thakok-An has decided to put together a gladitorial tournament for her amusement, with a heavy reward of 50 barrels of water to the man who brings the most prized and winning gladiator to it. Our PCs are hunted, captured, and forced into gladitorial combat. Can they escape without being forced to kill each other in the process?
How and why did Malus Sceleris' Athasian-born right hand man find himself in the possession of these documents is anyone's guess. All indications show that this was prior to Kalidnay's transposition into the Demiplane, before Thakok-An's "great celebration" of Kalid-Ma's power.
The woman's name appears nowhere on those documents she wrote herself, but clearly she is a Templar speaking of a male Sorcerer King. However, an accompanying note possibly written by the person who was destined to receive said documents or whomever ended up receiving them plainly states that this belongs to the case of "Lady Arin-Me, the jealous shrew" and "to be delivered to the Templar's court of Kalidnay for appropriate treatment".
Whether or not anyone besides said Lady Arin-Me and her mysterious interlocutor ever received these said documents is unknown.
The first document:
"If words spoken in these halls are private only to the poorest ears. If a single word can be one's undoing, then you'll forgive me for using such impersonal means.
There are few I would trust with matters of my heart besides myself. I know He hears my thoughts; my heart read like all others who follow Him. I fear nothing, nor do I wish to hide from His all seeing gaze. Blessed am I to be in His service. May my heart be as a book to Him, as perhaps He shall grant me a simple boon for my dedication.
He, my husband, no longer lies besides me at night. His heart was always clouded to me - as well it should, trust is something that may be given to none but Him - yet I never had to suffer such coldness, such physical coldness.
I have known my husband to be devoted to Him as much as I, yet does he not have even a single thought for me? Where did I go wrong? What have I done?
You know of me, of my life, and so I ask your counsel. Tell me of what I should do."
The second document:
"I understand your reluctance to involve yourself in my personal affairs, and so I thank you for the insight you have provided.
I would never have suspected him of seeking the attention of another, but perhaps I was being naive. Even now I find myself refusing to accept this! Yet it would explain his recent behaviour. I am of a conflicted mind on this matter and I fear it may interfere with my daily duties to Him.
Be that as it may, I have begun compiling a list of names, of those whose eyes betray a covetous, jealous heart. Also, as you suggested, I have taken care to add those who would simply seek a favour or two from one close to Him. Although I highly suspect that such individuals possess the patience to seduce the a man like my husband. Especially when coins would accomplish much the same without risking humiliation (or worse, indeed) after being turned away."
The third document:
"It must be her! I saw her eyes turn with that glimmer of jealousy. She will not look at me in the eye, she's unable to face me!
It comes to no surprise that she would do such a thing. She never showed the dedication to her work for Him that me and my husband have. She probably thought she could take my place merely through association with my husband. What a fool! He reads all of our hearts, and our thoughts are as plain as the sun's dreadful presence in the sky. Does she truly believe He would be fooled by such trickery? That he would usher her into the closer circles for having stolen what is mine?
Devotion and dedication is what He rewards, what He asks of us. We are the law, the backbone of this City-State in matters of mundane mortal affairs. It is what He asks in return for the power He grants us. What does He gain from her unseemly behaviour? Nothing! What a fool she is!
The harlot will soon understand that while we are tolerant of the occasional "missteps" of the lower ranks, we do have limits."
The fourth document:
"I thank you for the praises, but I assure you that while I did gain some measure of personal satisfaction out of this, it should be said that I was also fulfilling my duty as a Templar. For as much as I loathed her for her apparent deviousness, my husband remains unaffected by my ample charms.
It matters little if I wrongly accused her of consorting with my husband, as she did break a significant number of laws and greatly abused her power. It should serve as a lesson to others like her who forget that with great power comes great responsibility.
I saw fit to cast another whore into the darkest dungeons, she too had shown unacceptable interest in my husband and his highly desirable standing. She was mad. Thoroughly drunk with power and lacking restraints. I should tell you of some her excesses at some other time. Fear is His doctrine, and fear is what these harlots should learn!
But a thought occurs... how many more can I accuse? How many more can be punished? There are still names, but I wonder...
Have you still the name of that silt sea mystic who is said to possess sight beyond sight? I should perhaps seek further assistance from him..."
The fifth document:
"His price was unreasonable, and his manners uncouth, but he spoke of some truths that I refused to acknowledge.
I harbour some jealousy and anger, which I cannot hide from Him. My heart is weak and my passions out of control. Or perhaps it is my body that is troubling my mind. In any case, I must cease this foolish pursuit for the wise man's words still echo in my memories.
'Have you not considered that mayhaps your dear husband is devoted to his Master? You would stand between a man and his Master? You of all people should know...'
I thought him insolent and unduly cruel. I even threatened to have him arrested, but he was right and I simply didn't want to accept it."
The final missive:
"I finally found my rival. Yet the revelation does not fill me with any sort of relief. In fact, I now fear for my very existence.
What have I done? I was so angry... I couldn't bear to see ANYONE have him besides me. But this rival...
Is this a test of my faith? As He deemed me unworthy?
If so, then perhaps I am. What I have done I cannot undo. And if truth was told to me, then not even He can bring back what once was. The curse was laid so that none could break it; forged by magics long forgotten and a heart full of venom.
'You shall never again lay with Him for as long as you live! You'll understand a woman's scorn, but not as a man!' I shouted, not knowing of the weight of my words and certainly not considering the noose I placed around my neck at that time.
I can feel his gaze as I write to you. I can feel Him probing my thoughts. I cannot escape. But please destroy all evidence of my crime as I do not wish to have my shame be discovered by anyone save Him."
The mystic in the above documents is a secretive figure known almost solely by the Templars of Kalidnay. No one would dare admit to having asked him for some manner of boon, yet he has no shortage of tales of foolish, lazy Templars looking for a more expedient method to achieve their ends.
He deals in curses, charms, enchantments, and divination. In strange magics unknown to both defilers and preservers alike, and far removed from the mental disciplines. Rumours say his are the magics of alien lands or olden days, or both.
Whatever the case is, the man lives as a hermit in a cave far outside the city limits. His perpetually ash covered robe and dirt caked skin give him the appearance of a man who climbed out of a sea of silt.
He will listen and declare his price in a monotone, neutral way. Yet, in his moments of privacy, he tells his tales to his patron, the Lady of the Silts with mockery and laughter. His performance is strictly for the Templars; a persona crafted to better entice them.
The Lady of the Silts is a silent figure who rarely appears before mortals and makes herself known almost exclusively to the mystic.
In a former life she was a priest who decided to worship silt as opposed to the elements. To her, nothing felt as powerful as the sea of ashen wastes.
She eventually became one with the silt, although she didn't quite lose all her humanity. She still yearned for other humans but found herself unable to speak. And although she could retain a vaguely human form, her skin was composed of silt and thus quite alarming.
When Templars tried to drown a mage from an alien world who had caused much grief in Kalidnay, she rescued him and gave him a part of her silt essence so he would forever be in her company.
When she feels the tug of human emotions, she visits the mystic for tales of lazy Templars exemplifying the worst in humanity. Afterwards, she returns to her silt-filled dreams content in her decision to abandon her human shell.
Thankok-An was not always the head Templar and lover of Kalid-Ma.
Once Thakok-An was not even a woman, but a male Templar married to a possessive fellow Templar. He never loved her, and neither did she to be honest, but she certainly did feel significant lust for the handsome man. To him, she was but a convenient tool.
Her devotion to Kalid-Ma went beyond mere groveling in exchange for power, as she truly saw Him for what he was: a God made flesh. It pleased him that she saw Him, Kalid-Ma, this way. He too saw Kalid-Ma as more than a mere powerful being but one to be worshipped. That they were of the same opinion made many things easier.
Furthermore, she was a vengeful creature. Prone to bouts of jealousy and viciousness that he could use to his own ends. All he had to offer was his body, his soul already belonging to Him.
Kalid-Ma was a God, of that there was no doubt, but he felt a stir, a whisper in his heart every time he thought of his Sorcerer King. As he lay besides his wife at night, his thoughts were only of Kalid-Ma. Eventually, he came to believe that Kalid-Ma was perhaps testing him.
After that fateful night when he decided to confront his suspicions, at the risk of being stripped of his status or worse no less, he felt intense emotions the likes of which no mere mortal could provoke. His senses were overflowing with experiences and his heart almost exploded from the traumatic shock of this holy communion.
While he could once pretend to enjoy the ministrations of his lustful wife, the experience left him a changed man. And so his wife began to suspect foul play. Many female Templars were arrested, demoted, exiled, or even killed in her jealousy. Yet he cared little for her devotion to him, in fact, she no longer had any use for him. He had been one with his God!
The silt mystic revealed to the hysterical woman that her husband's devotion was the root of all her marital woes. A terrible revelation as she too worshipped and feared the all powerful Sorcerer King. Once she understood just how her husband saw Kalid-Ma, just how deeply involved he was with his "God", she flew into a rage and asked the mystic to give power to her curse.
It was a childish, ill-thought out curse. Something brought upon by countless misinterpretations and a lack of imagination, but spiteful enough to cause a chain of events that would lead to Kalidnay's eventual disappearance from the world of Athas.
Her husband would find his male form transmuted into a female one forevermore. No amounts of magics native to Athas could modify this. The curse was sealed with ancient magics now completely incomprehensible to contemporary Athasian scholars. Indeed, he would feel a woman's scorn as a woman, and not a man.
For all his obsessive worshipping of Kalid-Ma, he who would become Thakok-An showed much grief and frustration over his new found form. He felt almost disgusted by it. And worst of all, Kalid-Ma would no longer commune with him!
Truth be told, Kalid-Ma was merely disinterested in him/her because of the lack of focus and single-minded worship. No longer the sole object of the Templar's thoughts, Kalid-Ma grew bored by his servant.
Desperate, the Templar sought out the mystic who revealed that he did cast the curse. Threats were issued. but the mystic calmly explained that if he was able to curse him so, he could surely escape any ill fate. So the Templar asked how Kalid-Ma's favour could be regained to which the mystic answered "Throw him a feast! A banquet! And what is it that a Sorcerer King will devour if not power? And what is it that he gorges himself upon to the brink of drunkenness if not single-minded worship? I have no further answer, look into your heart and do as you must if you are to be one with your God again."
The Templar spent nights toiling away in secret, carefully avoiding any contact with others of his order out of shame. He planned the great "feast" meticulously until he could finally reveal his plans to his God. But Kalid-Ma knew of these plans already and seemed particularly pleased with the renewed vigour of his disciple. So the Sorcerer King saw fit to decree that all the preparations would take precedence over any and all official matter, with all Templars invited to help a "new" arrival in their ranks, Thakok-An.
The thing that always interested me about Dark Sun was the elemental magic, not the psionics and weird monsters. Seems to me there was/is a great deal of potential in Kalidnay to exploit the concept of dread elementals, and even invent new (dread) elemental-based classes, spells and divine magic domains.
Unlike many old-school RL players, I loved Kalidnay from the start. It doesn't hurt that at the time the domain was revealed, I was DMing a RL campaign and playing a thri-kreen in DS. I'd always wanted to do a full-fledged crossover, but also always felt that Kalidnay was too small to support a long-term effort. That, I think, is still its fatal flaw.
