The Heart of Archbliss is a piece of fiction for Archbliss: The City of the Sorcerers, one of the supplements for Cities of Sundara, which is available in versions for 5th Edition and Pathfinder.

“The Heart of Archbliss.” Teran said in response to the question. “At least, that’s what it’s called in rumour.

“The first sorcerers, those who raised the city into the heavens, were said to have placed an enormous piece of sorcerer’s quartz, the largest, most perfect specimen ever found, deep inside it. It was then protected by the most powerful spells they knew, to prevent anyone ever finding it again, because if it were ever removed, the city would lose its power.” Teran continued.

“Is it real?” asked Michah, Teran’s apprentice.

“I doubt it.” was the reply. “It’s only ever been heard of in rumour, not in fact, and the first mention of the Heart was not until after all the sorcerers who raised Archbliss were dead, and none of them left any reference to the Heart in any of their notes or journals. You’d think that, wielders of magic being what they are, one would have written down the truth somewhere, for their descendants to find and benefit from. None has been found, or said to have been found.

“If there was an element of truth in the rumour, the Great Houses would have searched for the quartz, though only for their own benefit, and none appear to have found it. And believe me, they would have looked. Power calls to power, and this would be great power. No, most likely it is a fiction, perhaps one created to make the founders even greater than what they were. A fiction that, over the years, has passed into legend and rumour, and perhaps into belief as well.”

“But what if the rumour was true?” Michah wondered.

“Ah, then wouldn’t that be something? Somewhere, hidden within the city, a treasure beyond compare to those who know how to use it, though using it might well bring ruin to all. Perhaps, should the rumour be true, it is better that the Heart of Archbliss remain hidden. For what can survive if you remove its heart?”

Watch the Sky is a piece of fiction for Hoardreach: The City of Wyrms, one of the supplements for Cities of Sundara, which is available in versions for 5th Edition and Pathfinder.

Jelbut watched someone duck down and cower, practically clutching the stones of the road, as a glider buzzed the street in East Town, followed by a wyvern on its tail; the glider’s pilot and the wyvern seemingly involved in an aerial form of tag. No-one else on the street seemed bothered; most didn’t appear to be paying the aerial duo the slightest bit of attention.

“You can always tell out of towners who have never been here before.” Jelbut remarked to their companion Benior. “Always so nervous about the antics in the air above, expecting one of the gliders to crash into the street below and, especially, their own precious body.”

“That has happened in the past,” Benior reminded Jelbut. “Some of those pilots are not as good as they think they are, and some of the natural flyers are rather less bothered about hitting the ground than they should be. There have been a few incidents.”

“Sure, but it’s not like it’s an everyday occurrence.” Jelbut continued. “More the exception than the rule. Besides, what benefit will you get from cowering? That’s not going to help you if a wyvern lands on your head. Never mind something larger and heavier. Once people have visited a few times, I’ve noticed they become far less worried that something will happen. Worrying over something you can’t control that will probably not happen has never done anyone the slightest bit of good. That’s the path to an early grave.”

“There are some necromancers of the Silver Wraiths from Moüd in the city.” was Benior’s response. “I’m sure they could find a use for someone whose driven themselves into an early grave from worrying about crashing wyverns. Well, it probably wouldn’t involve a grave at that.”

Jelbut laughed as they continued, and the out of towner they were watching stood up, brushed themselves off and looked round them with a nervous grin at their panicked response.

Perhaps next time they saw a flyer coming in low, they would be less nervous about it, Jelbut thought to themself.

Profanity Heralds Discovery is an introductory piece of fiction for Silkgift: The City of Sails, one of the supplements for Cities of Sundara, which is available in versions for 5th Edition and Pathfinder.

The shout was a combination of frustration and surprise. It wasn’t followed by an explosion, or a cry of pain, though, so it clearly wasn’t an emergency. Taggart put his tools down, took off the protective lenses he wore and ambled across the hall with his bow-legged stride. The night was dragging on, and the other workshops had emptied out for the night. It seemed that only he and his neighbor were burning moonlight oil, as the saying went. The dwarf rapped his heavy knuckles on the door frame of the workshop, and peered in.

“Everything all right, Ella?” he asked.

“I’ve still got all my fingers and toes, if that’s what you’re asking,” Ella replied. The dark-haired halfling was sitting on the work bench, her head in her hands and her feet dangling.

Taggart stepped over the threshold, taking in the scene. Ella’s workspace had the messy look of a well-loved kitchen, where the clutter had a thread of rhyme and reason to it if one tilted their head and squinted. Her burner had been banked, and on top of it was an iron pot filled with some kind of thick, viscous goop. It smelled like bone meal and sawdust, with a hint of potpourri.

“Bad result?” Taggart asked.

“I bumped the dried spider silk threads with my elbow,” Ella said. “Caught the bottle, but not before half of it spilled in.”

Taggart wrinkled his nose as a bubble burst in the gloop, releasing a puff of strangely scented air. He rubbed his mustache, smoothing it down over his lip. Ella blew out a long breath, moving her hands to the sides of her head, rubbing at her temples.

“There’s something somebody once told me that might be good to keep in mind, Ella,” Taggart said.

“What’s that?” the halfling asked, her eyes closed as she tried to stave off a headache.

“Profanity heralds discovery,” Taggart said, chuckling.

Ella looked up at him. Her expression was less than pleased. “Chalk it out for me? I’m not in a mood for riddles.”

Taggart glanced at the experiment again. He pursed his lips, drawing his thumb over his mustache again. When he was sure Ella was listening, not just humoring him, he smiled at her.

“Just because something you made doesn’t do what you want doesn’t make it useless. So think about that before you toss it in the midden heap and start over.” Taggart yawned, covering his mouth with his fist. “I was at a good breaking point anyway. You want to split a pot of dark?”

“Pretty sure I’m going to need it,” Ella said.

Taggart nodded, clumping back the way he’d come. Ella could hear him filling his kettle, and spooning out the strong tea he kept in a can. She glanced over at the thick glop her experiment had become, and frowned at it. She lifted the stirring stick, and watched as the liquid slowly dripped from the tip.

Was there something she could do with it after all?