War of the Wolves spoilers: What’s that encountered beneath the cliffs of Ruegh?

I plan on actually using these encounter tables; my players stay out.

Skip over me! G’wan, git!

War of the Wolves spoilers: What’s encounterd in the Eldergrove

Thpoilerth. Go away.

Khuf, Thrane and Celestia

The first empire of man was the Khufic Empire: god-kings built temples to themselves for a housand years, turned pasture to desert to glass with their wars, and pierced other worlds with the stolen lore of Nemesia and of Kythera Antigua.

It fell, utterly, its idols thrown down and its lines of kings ended. The war of its dying spread like wildfire, and whole towns were burned with arcane fire or deprived of every living thing by poisons or curses. Its kings retreated to their tombs to lick their wounds, sealed them with spells to last a thousand years, hid or lied or died to live again. Today, a hint of the black lore of Khuf — look no further than he Lord of Worms! — can shake the world. Imagine it at its height!

So: why did Thrane win?

Because of Eru Ilmater, and because of the Celestials.

Eru Ilmater was a priest of the Old Gods as all his father’s line before him: he knew to placate Qhlu for a childbirth and a harvest, he knew the prayers to Vor for safety from brigands and thieves, he knew the way to invoke Luth and beseech Abrys and avert the Great Old Ones. He had apprenticed in Kytherosnas a physician-priest at the court of an Ifrit grand-merchant who dwelt there to heal the sick and the wounded, to shrive them, and to consign them to a life of eunuch soldier-slavery on Imix.
One day, he found an old man amongst the sick, feeble of eye and mind.
“Old father”, said the still-young Ilmater, “I will make you whole by the grace of the Salt God and the Earth Mother, by the ways of the Hidden One and the Eater,” and he did prepare to do so.
“No, Rose of Iluvatar, still thy orison. Thou shalt make whole the world entire: those who know thy name shall not suffer and die in vain but await thy return, ever and again, in new faces. For thou mentionst not thy siblings; not the Weaver nor the Wild nor the Worm, and yet thou werest once of their number and shalt be again.”
And this was the last word spoken by the man, for he fell away and revealed a spirit of light, to declare Eru Iluvatar the First Prince of the Cathulian Church. They did flee into the desert, and found followers in the hidden places and the old places, and did teach them in the holy ways. Other Eru came, apostolic and guided,  angels appeared with gifts and intelligence for their chosen people. Iuz was their first, a mercenary soldier and great tactician,  shining with zeal.
Now: the departure of so many and the mustering of a new army greatly upset the pharaohs and sorcerors of all Khuf. They did raise dragons, and armies, and mercenaries. They did send ambassador-assassins, dancing spies, soldiers whose guts were rot and filth. They did send seven times seven plagues of death to the camps of the Iluvatar, but almost all were turned away, and the armies of Eru grew.
Iuz, the trusted general in the armies of Eru, called Ilmater to meet secretly in the Abyssian Tombs. While the Celestials warned Ilmater that a trap awaited them, Iuz himself was the trap, and Ilmater was bound in thorns and sent to the Iron City.

After decades of bloody war, both sides ground to a halt: the empire of Thrane with the Iuzant at their backs across a deeply treacherous desert, and the Iuzant isolated. The twelve princes of Thrane mourned the passing of their great martyr, and await his return.

And what did the Celestials want with Thrane at all?
They beheld a world which, if led by Khuf, would soon pierce the gates of horn and bone, and freely wander all the worlds. They beheld a world where human power, untempered by wisdom, would spill forth and damage their great star-spanning experiment. But! If those same humans could be taught, they could become a paradise.
But, paradoxically, they found themselves unable to directly force the paradise into being; after a certain point they were unwilling to act directly: the Iron City might, but not the Golden Throne.

Realistically, they just can’t. On the one hand, Celestial resources are less fluid than usually believed; there are a limited number of solars and their duties are prohibitive. On the other hand, to force a paradise upon nascent humanity wouldn’t work; they had to be ready for it and commit to it.
Thrane is their experiment in building a paradise.

Illyrian Denizens: With Stats!

I wrote this once before, got it into a halfway publishable state…
… and then wordpress ate it. And it didn’t remain as a draft. And it wasn’t still in my edit buffer. And it was just gone.

So let’s simplify and start over (whee).

Illyrian Fool
Small Fey
Armor Class 13 (leather)
Hit points 21 (6d6)
Condition Immunities Charmed, Sleep, Confusion/Insanity
Speed 20ft.
Str +0 Dex +2 Con +0 Int -1 Wis -1 Cha +2
Skills Stealth +4 (Advantage)
Senses Darkvision 120, passive Perception 9
Languages Illyrian
Challenge 1 (200 XP)
Sunlight Sensitivity. The Illlyrian suffers disadvantage on attack rolls and Wisdom(Perception) checks while in direct sunlight.
Blink. At the end of each round the Illyrian has a 50% chance of phasing ethereal. At the beginning of each round the Illyrian is ethereal, it picks an unoccupied space within 10′ (or else the closest unoccupied space randomly). It rematerializes in that space. If the Illyrian takes damage from a nonmagical cold iron weapon or is in direct sunlight, this property is suppressed for 1 round.
Magic Resistance. The Illyrian has advantage on saving throws against spells and other magical effects. This is suppressed if Blink is suppressed.
ACTIONS
Multiattack. The fool attacks twice with club. It may substitute Vicious Mockery for one club.
Vicious Mockery. Spell Attack 60′. One target who can hear the Fool takes 2 (1d4) psychic and disadvantage on attacks for 1 round; Wisdom save DC 12 negates.
Club. Melee weapon attack 5′. +4 to hit; 4 (1d4+2) bludgeoning.

Illyrian Knave
Medium Fey
Armor Class 14 (studded leather)
Hit points 36 (8d8)
Condition Immunities Charmed, Sleep
Speed 30ft.
Str +1 Dex +3 Con +0 Int -1 Wis +0 Cha +2
Skills Stealth +5 (Advantage)
Senses Darkvision 120, passive Perception 10
Languages Illyrian
Challenge 2 (450 XP)
Sunlight Sensitivity. The Illlyrian suffers disadvantage on attack rolls and Wisdom(Perception) checks while in direct sunlight.
Blink. At the end of each round the Illyrian has a 50% chance of phasing ethereal. At the beginning of each round the Illyrian is ethereal, it picks an unoccupied space within 10′ (or else the closest unoccupied space randomly). It rematerializes in that space. If the Illyrian takes damage from a nonmagical cold iron weapon, this property is suppressed.
Spell Resistance 1. The Illyrian is optionally immune to spells of 1st level. The Illyrian has advantage on saving throws against all other spells and other magical effects. This is suppressed if Blink is suppressed.
ACTIONS
Multiattack. The knave attacks twice with a weapon. It may substitute a Disarming Grin for one attack.
Disarming Grin. Spell Attack 60′. One target who can see the Knave drops what they are holding, spends their next action moving next to the knave, and is charmed for one round. A DC 7 Charisma saving throw negates all but charmed; a DC 12 Charisma saving throw negates charmed and grants immunity to all Disarming Grins for 24 hours. Taking damage from an Illyrian or ally breaks the charm.
Short Sword. Melee weapon attack 5′. +5 to hit; 6 (1d6+3) piercing. 13 (3d6+3) piercing against charmed targets.
Short Bow. Ranged weapon attack 80/320. +5 to hit; 6 (1d6+3) piercing.

Illyrian Page
Medium Fey
Armor Class 16
Hit points 45 (6d8 + 18)
Condition Immunities Charmed, Sleep
Speed 30ft., fly 60ft.
Str +0 Dex +3 Con +0 Int +1 Wis +1 Cha +3
Skills Insight +3, Persuasion +5, Stealth +5 (Advantage)
Senses Darkvision 120, passive Perception 10
Languages Illyrian, Common, Vor
Challenge 3 (700 XP)
Sunlight Sensitivity. The Illlyrian suffers disadvantage on attack rolls and Wisdom(Perception) checks while in direct sunlight.
Blink. At the end of each round the Illyrian has a 50% chance of phasing ethereal. At the beginning of each round the Illyrian is ethereal, it picks an unoccupied space within 10′ (or else the closest unoccupied space randomly). It rematerializes in that space. If the Illyrian takes damage from a nonmagical cold iron weapon, this property is suppressed.
Spell Immunity 1. The Illyrian is optionally immune to spells of 1st level. The Illyrian has advantage on saving throws against all other spells and other magical effects. This is suppressed if Blink is suppressed.
Grace. The Illyrian calculates their AC as 10 + Dex + Cha while unarmored and without shield. They add their Cha to each hit die.
Innate Spellcasting. The Illyrian casts with Charisma; its DC is 13 and its magical attack bonus is +5.
At will: Detect Magic, Faerie Fire, Minor Illusion
1/day: Comprehend Languages, Major Image
ACTIONS
Multiattack. The page attacks twice with a weapon.
Dagger +1. Melee weapon attack 5′ or thrown 20/60. +6 to hit; 6 (1d4+4) piercing. 13 (1d4+2d6+4) piercing against charmed targets in melee.
Heartsong. As a bonus action, all enemies within 300′ are charmed for 1 round; Wisdom save DC 13 negates and grants immunity for 24 hours. Deafened creatures are immune. Each round, the Illyrian may choose one additional effect to inflict on all listeners: confusion (per spell), incapacitated, fear (and drops all they’re holding), 1 level of temporary exhaustion to a maximum of 3 (@ 4, go unconscious instead), or anger (disadvantage on attacks, +10 damage). Taking damage from an Illyrian or ally ends the effect.

Illyrian Bishop
Medium Fey
Armor Class 16 (mithral scale)
Hit points 77 (14d8 + 14)
Condition Immunities Charmed, Sleep, Cursed
Speed 30ft., fly 60ft.
Str +0 Dex +2 Con +1 Int +1 Wis +3 Cha +3
Skills Insight +6, Persuasion +6, Arcana +4, Stealth +5 (Advantage)
Senses Darkvision 120, passive Perception 13
Languages Illyrian, Common, Vor
Challenge 6 (2,300 XP)
Sunlight Sensitivity. The Illlyrian suffers disadvantage on attack rolls and Wisdom(Perception) checks while in direct sunlight.
Blink. At the end of each round the Illyrian has a 50% chance of phasing ethereal. At the beginning of each round the Illyrian is ethereal, it picks an unoccupied space within 10′ (or else the closest unoccupied space randomly). It rematerializes in that space. If the Illyrian takes damage from a nonmagical cold iron weapon, this property is suppressed.
Spell Immunity 3. The Illyrian is optionally immune to spells of 3rd level. The Illyrian has advantage on saving throws against all other spells and other magical effects. This is suppressed if Blink is suppressed.
Innate Spellcasting. The Illyrian casts with Charisma; its DC is 14 and its magical attack bonus is +6.
At will: Detect Magic, Faerie Fire, Minor Illusion
3/day: Comprehend Languages, Major Image, Suggestion
1/day: Banishment, Greater Invisibility
REACTIONS
Counter-sanctuary (recharge 5-6). Trigger: an enemy under any curses declares an attack against the Illyrian or attempts to cast any spell within 30′ of the Illyrian. The Illyrian may “steal” the spell or attack, re-declaring its area of effect and targets. The victim may make a DC 14 Charisma saving throw to negate. This is a mind-affecting charm effect.
ACTIONS
Multiattack. The bishop attacks three times with Bestow Curse.
Bestow Curse. Magical attack 5. The target acquires the Fragility Curse. Each time the target is attacked by the Illyrian or their allies or is affected by a spell or other magical effect by the Illyrian or their allies, one Fragility Curse deals them 1d6 necrotic per curse they are under (including itself, cursed items, etc), to a maximum of 5d6 necrotic. A DC 14 Wisdom saving throw negates the curse. Otherwise it is permanent until dispelled. Since the curse of fragility is the source of the damage, and not the Bestow Curse power itself, this does not usually break charms.
Rebuke Curse. Each individual suffering from the Fragility Curse within 30′ takes its damage, and is stunned for 1 round. A DC 14 Constitution saving throw halves the damage and negates the incapacitation.
Healing Word (1/short rest, bonus action). The Illyrian or an ally in 30′ heals 36 hit points.

Illyrian Knight
Medium Fey
Armor Class 19 (mithral half-plate, shield)
Hit points 90 (12d8 + 36)
Condition Immunities Charmed, Sleep
Speed 30ft., fly 60ft.
Str +3 Dex +2 Con +3 Int +1 Wis +1 Cha +1
Skills Athletics +6, Stealth +5 (Advantage)
Senses Darkvision 120, passive Perception 11
Languages Illyrian, Common
Challenge 6 (2,300 XP)
Sunlight Sensitivity. The Illlyrian suffers disadvantage on attack rolls and Wisdom(Perception) checks while in direct sunlight.
Blink. At the end of each round the Illyrian has a 50% chance of phasing ethereal. At the beginning of each round the Illyrian is ethereal, it picks an unoccupied space within 10′ (or else the closest unoccupied space randomly). It rematerializes in that space. If the Illyrian takes damage from a nonmagical cold iron weapon, this property is suppressed.
Spell Immunity 2. The Illyrian is optionally immune to spells of 2nd level. The Illyrian has advantage on saving throws against all other spells and other magical effects. This is suppressed if Blink is suppressed.
Brute. The Illyrian deals an additional die of damage with its melee attacks.
Charging Leap. The Illyrian does not provoke opportunity attacks for moving near threatening enemies. If the Illyrian moves 30ft. before attacking, it deals an additional die of damage with the attack and the target must make a DC 14 Strength save or be knocked prone.
REACTIONS
Shield Bash. Trigger: As an opportunity attack or when missed by a threatened melee attacker. Melee attack 5′. +6 to hit, 8 (2d4+3) bludgeoning damage, and stunned for 1 round. A DC 14 Constitution saving throw negates the stun.
ACTIONS
Multiattack. The knight attacks twice with its longsword. It may substitute a lance attack and a shield attack once each.
Longsword +1. Melee attack 5. +7 to hit, 13 (2d8+4) slashing damage.
Lance +2. Melee attack 10. +8 to hit, 18 (2d12+5) piercing damage. Disadvantage on adjacent foes.
Thrown Lance +2. Ranged attack 20/60. +8 to hit, 11 (1d12+5) piercing damage.

Illyrian Rook
Large Fey
Armor Class 16 (natural armor)
Hit points 133 (14d10 + 56)
Condition Immunities Charmed, Sleep
Speed 40ft., fly 80ft.
Str +4 Dex +2 Con +4 Int +1 Wis +1 Cha +2
Skills Stealth +6 (Advantage)
Senses Darkvision 120, passive Perception 11
Languages Illyrian, Common
Challenge 10 (5,900 XP)
Sunlight Sensitivity. The Illlyrian suffers disadvantage on attack rolls and Wisdom(Perception) checks while in direct sunlight.
Blink. At the end of each round the Illyrian has a 50% chance of phasing ethereal. At the beginning of each round the Illyrian is ethereal, it picks an unoccupied space within 10′ (or else the closest unoccupied space randomly). It rematerializes in that space. If the Illyrian takes damage from a nonmagical cold iron weapon, this property is suppressed.
Spell Immunity 4. The Illyrian is optionally immune to spells of 4th level. The Illyrian has advantage on saving throws against all other spells and other magical effects. This is suppressed if Blink is suppressed.
Siege Monster. The Illyrian deals double damage to objects and structures.
Ruinous Slam (Recharge 5-6). Deal an additional 10 (3d6) necrotic damage to a victim of a slam attack. Roll a d6 on the table below; that value and all lower in value occur:
1: All food, drink and herbs destroyed.
2: Shield gets -1 (destroyed at +0 AC); if none, additional 3.
3: Weapon gets -1 (destroyed at -5); if none, additional 4.
4: Armor gets -1 (destroyed at AC 10); if none, additional 5.
5: 50% of potions and oils destroyed; if none, additional 6.
6: 50% of scrolls, leather goods and spells in spellbooks destroyed; if none, victim takes additional 21 (6d6) necrotic.
The victim may make a DC 16 Constitution save to prevent each row to which they are subject.
“Additional” in the table above means resolve just the listed row an additional time; they are entitled to an additional saving throw.
ACTIONS
Call Allies (1/day). The rook summons 3 Air Elementals or 3 Earth Elementals.
Multiattack. The rook attacks twice with its slam or three times with its thornbow.
Slam. Melee attack 15. +8 to hit, 14 (3d6+4) bludgeoning. This may trigger Ruinous Slam.
Thornbow. Ranged attack 300/1200. +6 to hit, 11 (2d8+2) piercing; then all within a 10′ of the victim takes 14 (4d6) piercing damage, DC 14 Dexterity save for half.
10′ Thorny thickets spring up from the ground in that radius; passing 5′ of it requires 5′ additional of movement and deals 14 (4d6) slashing damage. A DC 14 Dexterity save negates the damage, as does spending 5′ additional speed (10′ additional speed total).

Illyrian Denizens

There aren’t actually great 5e stats to use for enchanted fairy fey noble critters.

We’ve got the pixie and the sprite — good start — and the satyr etc. But: nothing that I can just whip out and use for the wild hunt, or a fey swordsman, or a faerie princess.

The drow listings aren’t bad, but they’re not great either; they are thematically all darkness and poison, when I want charm and psychic and radiant and thorns.

So: let’s talk about these “unaligned” “eladrin” type fey, as though they were a faction, just like demon or devil.

First: what unifies them? Whats their hook? Fey can, after all, mean a lot of things.

I’m going to say:

1) They’re fanciful. They should be overwrought, wonderland, madness. I had been going to reflect that in two ways: firstly, I wanted them to change into fanciful chimeric creatures; a pig with wings or a fish the size of a horse says wonderland to me. Secondly, I want to theme them after card- and board- game pieces, like the Queen of Heart’s cards.
I listed this first, and I’m actually having great luck with this theme… but frankly, it might not be necessary.
My faerie are no longer necessarily shapeshifters. I’ll hold that in reserve. I liked some of the forms I came up with, so maybe I can do some different monsters for that.
2) They’re not solid. They’re hard to land a blow on, slippery, and changeable. They stand in two worlds. I’ve wanted to do something with Blink Elves since 4e; now’s the time. I also like the Rakshasa’s spell immunity, though they’ll need a trimmed down version. The touch of iron suppresses both — but magic weapons won’t cut it.
3) They have only the best gear, and you can’t have it. Fairy Gold means I can outfit them with elven cloaks, elven boots, mithral chain, even oathbows. They work in the hands of elves beneath elven moons. The sons of Adam and the suns of Cathule are a different matter!
From this: fey can generally faerie fire and detect magic once per short rest. They can create food and drink and creation once per long rest, generally requiring multiple simultaneously cooperating. Their gear is the semi-permanent result of these powers.

I want a good spread of CRs, while I’m at it. I’ve listed some reference monsters at the same power level similar to what I’m going for. Let’s say:

The peontry aren’t statted; they’re farmers and craftsfolk, but basically just commoners with Illyrian traits (fading, magic resistance,  innate spellcasting).
The fool (CR 1) are the maddest Illyrians, dangerous capering simpletons whose infectious laughter makes mortals do dangerous things. Quite deadly in packs. Analogous to the ghoul, dryad or harpy.
The knave (CR 2) is a general-purpose ruffian. They’re rough around the edges and destructive, in addition to appealing to various emotional states in mortals. Analogous to the azer or berserker/druid/cult fanatic/monk/priest, nothic, or wererat.
The page (CR 3) is a general noble-born fey courtier. They’re sweet-voiced envoys and graceful dancers. They practice riding, hawking, and fencing. They’re broadly skilled and, frankly, somewhat boring. But tough and well armed. Analogous to doppelganger, knight, kuo-toa monitor, werewolf or wight.
The red bishop (CR 6) is a magically potent foe; difficult and slippery to pin down. It focuses on movement and attack. Analogous to drider, kuo-toa archpriest, mage.
The stag knight (CR 6) is the straightforward martial equivalent of the bishop: it focuses on leaping charges. Analogous to cyclops, hobgoblin warlord, invisible stalker, wyvern.
Finally, the rook (CR 10) is a fey elemental against whom few can stand. It is deeply tied to the land, fearsome in its anger and immensely strong, fast and tough. Analogous to death slaad or deva, maybe stone golem.

The crowns are those royal fey who command even greater powers. The example crown is the CR 14 Dream Lord. Sort of a vampire-y solo type, but slightly lower.

The Iron City of Dis, Gehenna, Celestia

The Paul Dini Superman cartoon was pretty good. I’ll explain.

Darkseid is a DC comics villain. I’ve only really seen him in the Superman cartoon; I mean, he’s in the DC universe but I’m only so informed. He’s the God-King of Apokalips, the hell-world. He leads armies of flying parademons and hovering dragon tanks. He gives the cartels Apokalipsian technology and they do heists for him, he opens Gates and makes clean getaways. He has a sexy, sexy bass voice. He tries to turn Earth into blasted and buring Apokalips. It’s visually striking.

That’s what The Iron City is like. It’s a fucked up colonial post-industrial amoral society, using teleport gates and spanning worlds. There are haves and have-nots, and the haves are 10 challenge ratings higher than the have nots, and get their rocks off rubbing that in. They have steel, and magic, and curses, and germ warfare, and techno music, and a utilitarian philosophy and the full resources of a constellation of worlds.

They grant their servants guns. Their gunpowder is powered by the dead; it’s made of people. It doesn’t work in direct sunlight, so they blacken the skies in front of their armies first; oil fires, storm summoning, whatever.
They grant their servants other spirit-powered tricks, too; a form of cheaply forged black spirit-mithral that’s hard as nails but, wouldn’t you know it, thirsty for blood sacrifice to keep it running. They have imps in bottles, and possessed jewelry, and drugs and poisons.
Actually, they’re a lot like D&D classic drow!

Their armies are three, at least: whatever local militia is available, the actual literal devils in the MM, and then the dead and damned of a dozen worlds; zombies, ghouls, wights. The graves open up and vomit forth. Then they get issued rifles.

They want souls for all of their technology — really, all of their everything. Their walls are made of the dead; their swords and armor, their carriages, their meals. It’s all fresh and tortured, not  because the dead deserve it, but because the Iron City demands it.

They conquer. They pick a world, they establish a beachhead, they harvest the world. This can go fast if the resources are easy to extract, or agonizingly slowly, if the resources are renewable.
People are a renewable resource.

They don’t really want you to sign over your soul; they want to make the world worse, they want to fill it with greedy shortsighted people,  and most of all they want to conquer Heaven, because their goals are directly opposed.

They’re based out of the titular Iron City, a planar metropolis called Dis whose wards cover multiple worlds via large, stable gates. With checkpoints. It turns out that Cathule isn’t actually in conjunction with Dis — rather, the Black Roads cut from Cathule to a hellscape called Gehenna, which conects to Dis.

Gehenna: the sky is writhing worms. The earth is poison and serpent trees. The undereorld is an infinite labyrinth. It is permanently locked in conjunction with Dis, Celestia, and Cathule, and absolutely brimming with Abyssals. That last is the fault of the Celestials or of the Iron City; each blames the oher, but the act which converged Cathule and Gehenna was a mighty working that the Celestials disrupted, opening the rift, and so now it is a multisided war through which unfortunate mortal souls often wander.

So: let’s say you’re a pretty normal guy. You die near a church. The priest says the words. Likely you don’t even go to Gehenna, but go straight to one of the Heavens, because there’s a nice celestial waiting who can guide a Black Road therr. Or maybe you do wind up in Gehenna, but you’re on a list, there’s an honor guard looking for you already, and they’ll get you out of there.
Maybe all this is true, but in life, you weren’t so nice. You’re basically not going to fit in in paradise. Now, maybe that’s not a problem: paradise can absorb a certain amount of not-a-team player. But maybe they’re full up, or maybe you really put the crimp on an angelic project, or maybe you were just in the wrong place, wrong time.
A lot of spirits shelter in Gehenna until the winds of that place unmake them. Another larva grows. Others take shelter in the labyrinths. Others are eaten by the hungry dead, the abyssals, or (and here wd get to the point) seized by the slavers of the Iron City.

These bands of Iron City slavers need supplies; raw materials, warm bodies, warm food. Nothing useful grows in Gehenna, and the supply chain from Dis is too long. Now we understand the colonies in places like Cathule: they service the reaping bands, which harvest what dead they can from those same worlds and their neighbors.

Hell isn’t just one place, but it sure is badly managed. The Celestials are right when they say a paradise awaits the faithful, but getting there can be real expensive.

Giants and Elementals

My post on Aaqa and Imix notwithstanding, let’s talk giants and elementals.
In Cathule, the giants arose in pretty much the multitude of forms in which we now know them — Storm, Sea-cloud (as cloud giants but fishier), Stone, Fire, Frost and Thorn (as Hill Giant but covered in brambles, which they wear as shirts, and with a slight plant affinity).
The lesser giants — trolls, ettins, even the vorish ogres and ogre magi  — were elven experiments bred from this stock. Generally stone giants or thorn giants, eager for glory, though rare strands tracing lineage to fire, frost, thunder or lightning happen!

So we have one of the First Races — one of the more easily overlooked, based on how far they’ve fallen — with a strong elemental character. And we’ve got elementals, in the form of Efreeti and Djinni. Surely also we have a plane of (or set of four planes of) air, earth, water, etc?

Meh.

Aaqa absorbed my need for air and, truth to tell, water. And even earth.
Imix my need for fire (north) and ice (south) and death.
Okay, my earth plane is weak (well, I could always cheat and use Cathule itself), but I’m not sure I need it. We can just say that elementals are the spirits of the Roads incarnate — usually a green road spirit when called up needs a frame; they’re subtle creatures made of the will-to-be and so don’t need much to turn that matter over there into a blob and start following orders.
So: you neither summon nor conjure elementals. Technically, you just evoke them, spinning power into a rough concept of “wanting to be”.

This means my elementals aren’t 100% extraplanar. But it also means I don’t need a place for them to just, like, hang out. They hang out in the animist backdrop behind the world: until conjured (… or whatever) they aren’t a thing. And then they are. And then they aren’t again.

It also means I need all sorts of other kinds of elementals; why not a sugar-candy elemental, a spice elemental, a pile-of-dead-wasps elemental, a hot fat elemental, a uranium elemental, a tesla coil elemental?
Short version: there totally are; they use the stats of solid/liquid/gas/energy elementals until I get off my duff and write them. Which is what the presented ones are.

There’s less here than I thought when I started writing: I don’t feel compelled to include The Plane Of Foo when my Paths structure gives me a cheap and easy way to include a Demiplane of Foo or even just The Chamber of Foo, and the contents of that room can just be a thing, not a member of the taxonomic class Elemental.

Many fey — looking at you, sprite — are the same. Will-to-be, making a little fairy body.

Aaqa and Imix

Let’s talk djinni and efreeti.

They hate each other, are elementally themed, and as both are middle-eastern derived, share cultural similarities. Okay so far as that goes; let’s keep digging.
The djinn are air-aligned in D&D, and actually I have a hard time separating them from Bralani, who are Eladrin and thus super-elves. Both have a whirlwind power (though I thought djinn actually transformed — nope!). Bralani aren’t in 5e, so I have to stop comparing them now.
My point: I’m gonna stick ’em in a blender and co-identify them.

The Djinn hail from Aaqa, the eye of a great cone-shaped storm-cum-mountain whose frustrum-peak is a great churning sea, whose walls are an infinite downwards convecting avalanche, whose floor is an endless, flawless blue sky, and whose center is a vertical, streaming fountain from infinity, slowly filling in the overhead sky with the sea.
First, some laws: fluids are drawn in (towards the base of the everpresent glowing salt-sea “Fountain”) and towards the sea-filled tip (“up”, from the point of view of visitors), while solids are drawn out and towards the infinite rim (“down”, emphasizing spiral motion — there is no attractive point at the “base” of the Fountain; they form the Walls of the great infinite cone of Aaqa). Massive solid objects emphasize the horizontal, rotational component (and so prove more stable), and exert a gravity on their surroundings, causing fluids to reorient. Small objects spin lazily away easily once broken off (for instance: dust and sand are easily disposed of). Both solids and fluids are somewhat sticky and accretive over short distances, so harmonious aeolian rocks, rain-catching lotus-moons, barnacled cloud-whales, constructed moss-galleons or chaotic whitewater moons can prove extremely stable, rotating the Fountain and allowing solid visitors to interact with slower-flowing, orientation-sharing water on the topside (the water’s gravitationally-sticky “underside”) of the body.
Beyond the Wall, there is no space — only an infinite upwards torrent of jewel-like sand, falling to the rim

As a result of these curious physics, many stone islands acquire a spray of sea, giving them an appearance of clouds, and naturally occurring fountains are common. They also acquire hardy plants and clinging vines, which can deal with the curious properties of Aaqa and thrive: colorful succulent orchids, olives, oranges, and beautiful hanging air mosses. The animals favor bioluminescent floating cteids, cephalopods and other flying marine life, as well as brightly colored birds.

The torrent is 100% super toxic glowing seawater, dealing 1 point acid damage per round immersed to non-natives and 1d12 damage if consumed. Actually, so is the rim-oriented falling water near the Wall, in addition to running the risk of being crushed between its grinding boulders or deafened by the noise. However, by letting any sea water stand in a vessel made of the natural stone or plant life, it will form pure, clear water and sparkling float crystals, which usually fade and sink over the next d6 days.
An infinite latticework of tributaries — some glowing, some freshwater — aggregate lazily towards The Fountain; forming infinite rivers or coalescing out of miles of mist or forming from a particularly violent spring in The Wall.
The gardens, cloud-cities, palaces and gardens of the Djinn are here, where stone meets sea or where sky meets stone.

Their needs are few; their culture ancient; their pleasures vast. Some hermits of their people attain such understanding of the nature of the universe that they are called Wind-dukes or Noble Lamas, and are said to be inheritors of a great worlds-shaping power.
They claim to be the first giants, and it is true that there are many storm- and cloud- giants here, living on and within the Fountain or the Sea. Empyreans share the gardens of the Djinn. The Djinn sail the skies and waters of Aaqa, knowing the secrets of where it enters other worlds along misty shores or where ancient roots drink from it and they may dock beneath strange skies. They trade, and accept peaceful visitors, and are content in the ever-changing rhythm.

The Ifrit of Imix are pretty much the opposite of this. In every way.
D&D’s efreeti are already plenty cool. They have society, they keep slaves, they have superpowers and allies and you don’t have to feel badly for killing them.
The only think I want to change about them is to give them a link to the Djinn and a reason to be so sybaritic.
So: they dwell on a near tidally-locked world called Imix, stuck on the sun-facing pole, towards the red giant they’ve triggered spiral descent towards to avoid evernight. At the anti-helion of this sun is the Netherstar, the hole in the sky through which their sun’s life fitfully bleeds. The blackened landscape the solar flares illuminate once per century is the haunt of the Nightgaunts, lords of darkness and death.
At the aphelion lie the fields of fire, where the sundrinking salamanders roam.
At the vast, tropical borders where the sun never sets lie the lands of the ifrit: the cities of brass and the blasted, irradiated wastes between them. This is where their sultans plot for ever more power, scheme and make war, take slaves and plumb the riches and secrets of many worlds using the powers purchased from their allies in the City of Iron.
Their needs are infinite: their sky and their world is dying, their civilization founded on infinite excess, their souls traded long ago. Their markets are cosmopolitan and their guards omnipresent, the underclass of offworlders constantly on guard against kidnap and slavery, but the riches of kings available.
Further south, lie a belt of mountains contested between the giants of fire and the giants of frost; during half of every solar year — centuries in length — they invade the lands of the other and eke out a living in lands suitable to their needs, with sunrises and sunsets; during the other half the balance shifts and allies from their respective side prevail, the weather shifts, and the belligerents retreat to their fortressses and fastnesses.
Then the dark frozen lands of the south, where the weak sun rises around the horizon weak and fitful, where the snow still falls, to the frozen plains the frost giants hold.
Then, beyond the glacial peaks that hold the storm, the lands ever beneath the gaze of the Netherstar. The riches of the world-that-was scatter this plain ringed by glassy spires, haunted by Nightgaunts and their night-armies.

In the north, the Salamanders summon showers of flame, metals and gems, great boiling streamers slowly killing the sun. Sometimes from the south in the sky, a nightgaunt will break through the wall to die in the sun, boiling off soot, death and skittering shadows, also killing it.

The Djinn and the Ifrit connect when Imix and Aaqa first went into convergence. The Ifrit discovered how to tunnel into Aaqa, bursting through The Wall and rading monasteries, harnessing cloud whales to war zeppelins, and constructing battle moons whose orbits would allow raiding parties. While repulsed and their tunnel flooded, the attack repeats itself again and again: the core of Imix is somehow the peak of Aaqa, and connection between the two worlds undeniable.

A Deep History of Cathule

In the beginning: no-one knows for sure.

Wreckage exists of a first world, unimaginable in its scale and scope; places and names and concepts long forgotten. All that is left of it are ruins, ancient workings, and the Abyssals, creatures of its elder order. Recorded history runs deep with flaws as a result of this apocalyptic forerunner, ever present but opaque.
This is called the First Age, the Age of Darkness, or the First World.
The first recorded event of the First Age is the Daemonomachy, war eternal between the survivors of that first age, all against all.
The ruins and relics are sometimes sorted into  categories:
* Forgotten, ancient First Age structures seeming to predate even the Abyssals.
* Abysian, those relating to the Abyssal demons themselves, sophisticated magical ruins.
* Nemesian, those relating to the Abyssals after the coming of elves, gnomes and giants; fortress-temples, specifically designed for executing war against humans but built crudely, hurriedly, by lesser hands.

In Cathule, the first historians are the mortal races: the gnomes, to toil in the earth, the giants, to make war, and the elves, who claimed the right to rule all and stole the Wild Magic, and were doomed thereby.
The mortal rise to power is marked first by a war against the remnants of the First Age and then, during the relative peace this produced, their wars against each other, various disasters, and ultimate dissolution. The arc of these empires is called the Second Age, its beginning marked by the fall of the Nemesian Temple, its ending by the fall of Illyria.
Sometimes the second age is called the Age of Twelve Crowns, for the rulers of these races:
* The three elven crowns of the sister-empresses of forested Illyria, sea-girt Yaralay, and great Fymory
* The six chiefs of the Giants Ordning (Storm, Sea-cloud, Mountain-stone, Frost, Fire and Thorn)
* The three doomed seats of the the gnomish governors of desert Kytheros, swampy Labriluthal, and gloomy Carapath
* Later, the stolen crown of the Carpathian Dragon

The elves were self-assured, self-indulgent and sybaritic to their core. They embraced the Wild Magic, destroying Yaralay in the process, and enslaved the other races. Their nobility, which survives through the Fomori line, traces its lineage to a small set of common ancestors.
The giants were as they are: fractious, temperamental, violent. Their chieftans were those who could maintain an alliance long enough for recognition from their neighbors, but  forming loose alliances around a racial core from time to time, bue title changed hands frequently or, truth be told, was more stylistic than politically accurate.
The gnomes were crushed and crushed again: by the giants, by the elves themselves, by dragons, by deific ascension, by the mysterious departure of the Kytheroi. Their holds and halls are fallen now, with no halls dating back to the second age.
This was an age of growth and of exploration; of executing the war against the Abyssals to every edge of the map, and of arts and magic. Great legions of explorers were sent in each direction, few-to-none of which returned. Explorer-houses were founded and bred: adaptable stock of infinite potential. Humans, exiled from the empire to find what lay beyond and return.

The elves found, or were given, the wild magic. The three sisters drank deepest of the well of power, and all of their attendants and gentry following. Yaralay was overcome by the Everwinter and lost, but Illyria and Fymory were unscathed and multiplied in wonder.
The Giants were imbued by their elven masters with this power, too, and it warped them. Peace was shattered as the giants rebelled, out of the elves’ control. The physically stronger and quicker breeding giants were opposed by the sophistication and skill of the elves; a losing action for the slower-breeding side. The giants quickly refilled their losses with large litters of lesser giants: ettins, trolls, all touched by wild magic and eager to seize more. The elves of Illyria bred available stock into the vor, a giant- and fey- blooded warrior race, and armed and fielded armies of them against their foes.

Which was the downfall of the second age, and the dawn of the Age of the Vor, as they shared alignment with neither their elven masters nor their giantish foes.

The vor turned the tide of the war in favor of the elves, proving adaptable, numerous, and fierce. The giants who had pressed almost to the silver gates of Fymory now found themselves broken before their new foe. But the masters of the vor, the elves, had made a terrible error in their rampant use of the wild magic. A plague of madness began in Illyria, which swept through elf and, to a lesser degree, vor. Illyria fell, many of its cities vanishing, and the hardy, well organized and masterless vor swore they would not bend the knee again. The moon was created at the same time as the vanishing of Illyria.

The Age of the Vor was a bloody and a dark one. Only the elven kingdom of Fymory still stood; the Vor made war on themselves and on the giants, and on all of the other creatures of the earth. During this time, they also made war with the young kingdoms of men, creatures whose empire arose to note in this age from across the great desert, claiming descent from those legions of the twelve crowns who had crossed the desert to explore and war on the abyssals but never return. Called the Khuf for the desert through which their traders came, the difficulty of executing war against one another eventurally turned crusading vorish warbands to peaceful trade-routes, and the khuf-men settling in Kytheros, Lazhar, Lyrica and around Carapath, territories far-flung from vorish centers of power.

Until the revelation of Thrane, the end of the Age of Vor, the beginning of the Age of the Church.

The Age of Vor ended after the Thranish Uprising and the martyring of Ilmater the White Rose, in which slaves of the Khufic God-king threw off their bonds. The battles began in every corner of the empire simultaneously, almost overnight: creatures of numinous light appeared to servants, slaves, mamluks, beggars and laborers. They told the people what their birthright could be, and told them of the worlds beyond this one, and the rewards that awaited them in those worlds. They armed them with iron and bright steel. They trained them. They carried messages across impossible distances, brokered alliances, and provided supply lines.

The Vor and, separately, the elves found their councils split between aiding Khuf or Thrane or maintaining neutrality. Many vor found themselves driven by honor and trade agreements to oppose Thrane, or selling their service as mercenaries to the Thrann. Elves of Fymory found themselves consulting, crafting magic or selling support to human groups through varied ambassadors, despite stated neutrality.

The superior sorcery of Khuf was ultimately no match against Thrane. Its princes of the church established its center at Kytheros and declared themselves the hands of the celestials on earth. The center of Khuf quickly rallied around a cluster of Nemesian citadels which had proved impregnable during the Vorish Crusades, and allied themselves with the Iron City, a group of world-spanning beings opposed to the Celestials, declaring a shadow-war against Thrane.

The Thranish were not content to merely conquer the Khuf. After establishing a gentle growth of trade, peace and plenty, their princes turned jingoistic. Remembering a history of war, oppression, immorality and use of the wild magic, they declared war against the clan-chiefs of the vor and their supposed shadow-masters, the elves of Fymory.
They executed this war over great distances from their centers of power, with dwindling resources and morale. The death knell to Thrane was the battle at Fymory’s gates itself: duplicating the feats of he sisters, the queen of Fymory retreated with the core of the Fomor and their lands to a faerie realm on the far side of the moon, shattering the lands and dealing a dolorous blow to the church.

This, according to some, ended the Age of the Church and began the Modern Age: the farflung colonies of humanity maintain a trade relation but not a political unity; the nations of elves, vor, giants and gnomes are shattered and uneasy in the face of growing human concerns.

This is, broadly, the ecclesiastical history of the elves and of Thrane. It’s likely impossible, however, as Khufic history — albeit easily swayed for political ends — does not place the creation of the moon as late in history as do the Thranish. And the presence of humans on other worlds, not based on an elven-gnomish-giant breeding project or diaspora, also casts doubt on that origin.

Fymory, Illyria and Yaralay

These are the core of the elven heart. They each ended badly, and pretty much nobody’s happy about it, though their kingdoms be storied in legend and song.

Before the first age, the elves lived alone and in peace in a paradise called Arvandor. This was the garden of the world tree, and they were its tenders, led by three sisters courageous, wise and strong.
But the breaking of the world came. The elves followed their queens down the branches of the world tree away from Arvandor, and have never been able to return.

The sisters brought with them the wild magic, out of the doom of thr first age. No one really knows the form of it save the three sisters themselves, and at this point nobody’s talking. While the Fomor still benefit from Fymory’s draught, it is an echo of her personal power, and even her nobles were told the import of the rites in which they had participated only after participating — they do not know the nature of their exposure. The societies were built around harnessing it; their cities were bathed in it and powered by it. But the three queens discovered some means by which they could suffuse their very beings with it and transcend all limits, and it is to this we refer when we speak of the wild magic.
It is sometimes called a well, and so let us say that they drank of it, metaphorical though that may be.

Yaralay drank first, in the second age: the boldest and most curious of the sisters, her empire was at the still-verdant tip of the world, nestled in the roots of the world tree which she still tended and guarded. It was she who found the Wild Magic and she who instructed her sisters in the way and she who drank deepest and she who was first lost. The eldest, she was called the Raven Queen for her love of the north and her skill in war.
The day she drank, her palace ruptured as the roots of the world tree sought to find her. And she sought to find it, growing and changing, becoming the incanation of earth power, Qhlu, that had slumbered in the tree through fire and madness. She spoke not with her own voice but buzzing choruses and her sisters became afraid of her and the doom of lost Arvandor: they charged the Frozen Legion beseige her home, girt it with ice, and that the Sea-cloud chip at the roots of her land until it sank. Though they lost the world tree and Labriluthal in the bargain, they were able to contain their sister and mourn her loss.

And so Yaralay did sink and was sealed, leaving the sea elves who turned away to survive, without homeland but bearing the mark old magic.

It is said that Qhlu still dreams of her once-people, and that the queen Yaralay is still within the communion as the sender of gentle rains and good harvests. Others whisper that one does not become a god by accident: for some prupose did Yaralay invite the Green Dream and she executes this purpose still.

Then, Illyria, which fell before the vor at the end of the second age. The queen of Illyria drank of the wild magic in the moments before the fall, betrayed by her creation and her art. The witch-queen sought to retreat and, it is said, did so: she created the moon as a portal to her new realm and passed beyond it, trapped in the faerie lands with her court and all those struck by the full moon light in the moment of its creation.
Plagues and madnesses issued from anyone who entered her palace for a century, though she had sent many of her people away — knowing the fate of Yaralay, she had hoped to spare them, but virulent wild magic cannot be yoked. This created the bacchae-madness, the many fey, the gnoll and other beastmen from those unfortunate enough to be exposed.
This also created the first of the Elflands, Illyria. The borders of Illyria are misty and unstable, and quickly lead to shifting green realms, though its relative stabilility is sought after in the Further Reaches of faerie. Though dangerous, mortals may visit Illyria and the Reaches and, so long as they give no offense, return. The road is unreliable; often visitors are confused or maddened, cursed or stricken or otherwise marked by their journey, but they may leave. The archfey of Illyria may not; they are of the land and each ruler and realm grow together.
Each of the realms is patchwork and different, but tends toward forested dales and hidden glens, glades and brambles and rolling fields. Fairytale castles dot the land, and weather reflects mood. It is a place of wonder and enchantment.

And so Illyria was become a land of Vor and then Men, its rucked borders becoming Berlaine and the green elves its survivors.

The other Fairyland has a grimmer character, and is if anything even more strongly opposed to Vor and Man. At the catastrophic end of the fourth age, the armies of Thrane had pressed once more to the unconquered gates of Fymory. The Fomori, weared by ages of war and by their designs turning against them, aided their queen in a final deep draught of the wild magic and a final doleful working. Their lands were removed wholly from the world to beyond the moon and the Princes of the Church and their armies with them; they were seized by irresistible sorcery and warped to the will of the queen of the realm.
This second world was a thin night-dappled paradise, made with better-forgotten knowledge from lost Illyria as a weapon and as a trap and as a palace for the Fomori. The Fomor now dwell in a misty land of pines and cypress, in endless gardens and lakes and mansion-houses, served by the warped and maddened beasts that had been men. The Lords and Ladies bide their time and welcome visitors from other courts who might oppose Thrane and men more generally, courting Iuzant and the Iron City, envoys from Imix and Illyria, and other stranger more distant realms. They are pale and drawn, inhuman and even the least of them shaped by their forbidden sorceries.
They control the borders of thus nightmare realm strongly,  allowing through a few dreamers for tortured sport, and any who enter feel the mists of the place drawing at their bodies and minds in a strengthened form of the Doom of Illyria.
It is a place of fear and horror.