#lanaria

[etoililly]

Quick doodle of the pretty new zelda character Lanaria 🌿 she's so lovely, I can't wait to get to learn more about her and the sages rahh!!

[goldarsene]

Oh she’s cute! Glad we’re getting more original characters.

[dreamsoflanaria]

The Uber Goblin

"The Uber Goblin sucks mega ***" -Only Recorded Record of an Adventurer's Opinion on the Uber Goblin

Imagine a goblin but uber

[dreamsoflanaria]

History of Lanaria

"The Dreaming Mind, ever more powerful by the second, began to reshape the land. Where there was once pleasant pastures and, at worst, the savannas of Meso or the mountains of Mejor, soon, instead, there was a massive desert, joining up with main Meso, a massive wall named a 'Mesa' after the country of its origin, and Mejor became Volcanis Mejor, a massive, ever-present volcano. Not only the East was affected, Nyklos was as well, the marsh becoming deeper and larger, and the snowy slopes freezing solid and rising, the edge falling miles into a dry ocean. As the heroes turned their faces towards the new foe, they too were shaped, into beasts and bugs, fish and birds, though some stayed human, heroes and the average people transformed, creating the 'Races' of the land beyond Human and Elvish. Unfortunately for the Mind, this only served to give them an upper hand, fighting towards the Mind, eventually ending in a mighty war to seal it. The war lasted 6 days. 6 days, and almost a million slain, but eventually, it fell. But they could not kill it; even at its weakest, it could not be defeated so easily.

Instead, they sealed it under their greatest temple, the Spirit Temple, and sealed its warriors away in the four temples at the corners of the sand, with the Champion who felled them, and gave their lives. The Dreaming Mind laid in wait for a century, but now, it returns.

The Tale, the prophecy of this land delivered by the gods, says that a hero will spare us all from it, will destroy it, so we lie in wait."

- History of Lanaria Pg. 8, Scholos

[dreamsoflanaria]

History of Lanaria

"The tide turned slowly but gradually, the Heroes forming insurmountable troops, even just a few being able to carve through the Draconic Forces. Even the Ancient Dragons, though they were able to take on a handful of Heroes, were no match for a fully-prepared party.

Eventually, the war brought itself to the capital of the Dragons, known at the time as "Drac'ar'ma". The amount of dragons was dwindling, rapidly, and those who did not die simply fled, hiding in wait for many years.

The fight with Tyrask, lord of Dragons, was long and brutal, many brave heroes falling in the process, the cruel magic of the Dragon Lord being beyond measure. But, mortal as he was, Tyrask could die. He began to fail, his magic running out, his grand bursts of fire dwindling to bolts of sparks, hardly felt by the encroaching crowd.

In his last moments, before he fell, Tyrask said one last curse upon all of mankind, who he hated greatly, who he hated more than anything else; 'I hate you. I hate you all. You haven't won, you will never win. I cannot die, I will come back, and you will rue the day I return, as my servants shall bring hell upon you.' And with that, one final blow was delivered, severing his head from his body.

Though the resulting blast caused a few casualties, and notably obliterated the Dragon Capital, leaving only the crater and bones of Tyrask, now known as 'Tyrask's Grave', the war was over.

But the Dreaming Mind wasn't content to stay. It fed off of the surge of hopes from the people, the newfound dreams for a future beyond the war, and it began to change the land, the people, and the history ever onwards."

- History of Lanaria Pg. 7, Scholos

[dungeon-scraps]

Why should I never have any of the fun? Lanaria glanced over her shoulder at the two unconscious bodies comprising the least fortunate members of her party before turning away to pounce at the ice imp (or... whatever it was) that she’d shoved away from the group. Some part of her was wondering if the remaining conscious members had any means of preventing them from freezing to death, but it was a small part, a vague protest lost in the rush of adrenaline that came with smashing the hostile creature to the ground, the feeling of ice shattering between her teeth. The taste of blood wasn’t quite as satisfying when it was from her own gums, but it was hard to care too much about that, either, when the enormous gray wolf form could always be remade.

Somewhat reluctantly, though, she let go of her quarry to take stock of the situation. A low growl filled her throat as she jumped over Morisenatha’s body to take up a defensive stance and fend off the other of the two remaining ice creatures, gaze dancing between the two targets, ready to take a bite out of whichever moved first. Come on, fight me. I can tear you both apart and grind you into snow.

But before anything else could happen, Goat moved beside her and smashed the downed imp in two, and she dropped her shoulder toward the blast of ice shards to shield the downed party members and her face. A few cold prickles in her side indicated a bit of damage, but nothing major, and she knocked away a somewhat feeble claw attack from the other imp before Gylenna decapitated it with an axe swing, spraying harmless frost into her face and across her back as it collapsed, which she didn’t even bother to avoid besides closing her eyes. She snarled at the two piles of snow and icicles before turning around to catch a glimpse of the last remaining creature recoiling from Barro and collapsing in a heap a little ways’ down the path. Turning all the way around twice while Gylenna rushed to give medical assistance didn’t reveal any new creatures to fight, nor did padding up the path a few tens of feet to be sure there weren’t more coming, so she barked in satisfaction - and maybe a little frustration at not getting to sink her teeth in properly once she’d forced it down - at the ice pile she’d done the most damage to, possibly startling the rest of the party a bit.

With no more to do, she backed up to be clear of the injured and shook the ice from her fur, sending a burst of glitter into the air and a few moderately large shards careening down the cliff face to her right. Then, reluctantly, she dismissed the dire wolf form, appearing back as a woman in a momentarily wolf-shaped puff of the remaining snow that wouldn’t come out of her fur that quickly dispersed.

“Everyone all right?” She stretched her shoulders and moved over to check that the downed party members were stable. “I haven’t had that much fun in months.”

[transienturl]

A page slips out of Lanaria's journal. You pick it up.

What differentiates animals and people? Even moreso than most druids, I'm certainly in a position to say "nothing." It would be very reasonable for the woman who spent 28 years living in the wilderness at least 6 days a week to say it is nothing - not kindness, not intelligence, not emotion. It is none of those things. But it is not nothing.

The thing that makes us people is our capacity for empathy.

It is easy to find loving animals. it is easy to find nurturing ones. It is easy to find ones that take care of one another when they become lost or feel pain. They can be, and are, sympathetic creatures. But it is very hard to find places where an animal shares in another's plight, in another's triumph, in another's rage, in another's loneliness. They largely feel for themselves.

We are only people when we feel with one another. When we treat both the ecstatic and the suffering as we would wish to be, because we feel along with them. When we act to put our companions - whether they be our lovers, our friends, or simply those we pass on the paths of life - on the same levels as ourselves. When we celebrate with another when we would celebrate ourselves. When we leave no one behind, because we would not want to be left.

A pack of wolves is loyal. It sticks together. But the loyalty of a wolf is for the betterment of the pack, and if the pack is no longer needed, it ceases to exist. It is not a product of "instinct." It is a product of intelligence. But it is not one of empathy.

We are only people when we stick together even when it is not better for our pack, but because we would not want to be left behind.

[dungeon-scraps]

Are there any recent/daily thoughts they have about death or dying?

I'm not generally a very morbid person. But with the events of late - especially the death of that noble at the hands of a power clearly above anything anyone I know has experienced - of course death is a nearby possibility and a worrying thought.

Do they believe for every darkness there is a light? If not, why?

I do. The usual poetic form is "for every shadow there is a light," and in that version, the connection is unmistakeable. But even when darkness is not from shadow, like in the depths of the Underdark where the sun has never shone, there is a light in the world for each black crevasse. Such is life. And it is the way life shall return it when it is not.

Name one thing about the way their emotions work that they despise.

I can't think of anything I outright despise. It's a strong word, and not a sustainable one. I've accepted most things I'd rather were different.

Give us the serenity to accept what cannot be changed, The courage to change what can be changed, and the wisdom to know the one from the other.

I don't know who first wrote those lines, but they're common among clerics and druids alike, of numerous faiths.

Would they ever wish upon a falling star? If so, what would they wish?

Peace. Or, actually, a dissolution of hate. Peace makes one think of relaxing and letting one's strength and resolve waste away, which I don't mean.

Describe how they would spend a stormy, overcast/rainy day.

The same way I'd spend any other, as long as I am able. But humans and elves were not made to whether the power of a true storm, so sometimes I'll head to the tavern.

Storms or clear skies?

Both in equal measure.

What about nature do they find calming? What about nature do they find disagreeable?

Everything, and everything. Nature is home to all ranges of emotion. I don't imagine you'd want to watch a wolf decapitate its prey too closely if you have a full stomach, but there's beauty in it nevertheless.

List three or more people they would call out for during an emergency.

My companions, or the spirit of the forest.

What is their typical response to being given orders?

Few do. I can't think of a scenario I'd be very happy to hear them. I suppose the most likely scenario are that they're for my own safety, and somehow I don't imagine I'd say yes.

Describe a thought or dream that would cause them to have a mental meltdown.

In the past, many of my dreams did.

Describe a physical action that shows complete trust.

That's a good question. I'm not sure how I'd show that.

Describe a verbal way they would express complete trust.

I imagine I would simply say so. People like to hear those things, don't they? And I imagine it'd make them more likely to trust me in return.

Explain how they portray feelings of hostility or dislike.

Quietly, in general. A glare can be worth a thousand words, right?

[This is not the entire story. It depends how hostile you manage to make her.]

What is something that causes them to question themself?

Physically, I'm not as strong as I was. I need to be sure I don't get in over my head in that regard. In the sense of questioning my resolve, or something? I don't know, I'm sure there's something.

On a sleepless night, what would they be found doing?

Watching the moon. Whittling, often.

Is there anything about their health they are continuously on edge about? Something they disregard?

As I mentioned, I'm not as strong as I was 20 years ago, but I wouldn't say I'm on edge about it. I probably disregard something, but I don't know what it'd be.

Name at least two people who can trust them with their life.

You know, I can't think of a one. I'd like to think I'm worth this party trusting, but I don't know if any of them would say they do. Not likely, considering how much we've known each other.

Describe a way that will earn affection (whether platonic or romantic) from them.

Be respectful of the things around you. A low bar, but a hard one to clear these days, apparently.

Describe a way to make them uneasy or apprehensive.

Disrespect the things around you, of course.

Are they prone to violent outbursts or thoughts?

Violence is in the eye of the beholder. But yes.

What are their creative outlets?

Drawing, poetry. Whittling, I suppose, but that's more of a hobby. If I did figurines much it'd count, but for the most part I'm not that skilled.

Do they tend to rely on words or actions more?

What for? That entirely depends.

Is there a certain scent that brings about nostalgia? If so, describe a memory this scent brings back.

In the places I've gone in this campaign, every pleasant scent is nostalgic of the earth away from these dirty stone prisons.

Are there any inner demons they can never seem to get rid of? What are they?

I'm sure the more pacifist among us would consider revenge a demon.