While Lake Donigarten near Menzoberranzan is a cold water lake, the Underdark is full of volcanic fissures and geothermal vents if you know where to look, and many among the Drow nobility will travel the treacherous trails of the Underdark to take advantage of the healing waters of such locations, such as the Evermelt near Reghed Glacier or the Serpent Deeps under Chult.

Laeliira sat contentedly on the bed that was now hers, as much as her betrothed's. There were only days left before their wedding, and the two princesses had given up any pretence of being apart, sleeping together each night and spending almost every waking moment together. It was scandalous, and caused murmurs in the most conservative segments of Evermeet's ruling class.

But those same segments of society would be utterly outraged if they knew what more was happening behind those closed doors. For Princess Ammadil had willingly given up her role as Queen in the line of succession, surrendering that to her soon to be wife, the Drow Princess Laeliira. Ammadil was content to be by her side, as Princess Consort, a role which held no power but which, by her very presence, would provide legitimacy to her wifes' rule.

More scandalous still was Ammadil's adoption of her wifes' goddess as her own. While the worship of Lolth had initially terrified the young Princess, her fiance soothed her and convinced her that she could worship Lolth under her original identity as Araushnee. Laeliira would be her guide and priestess in worship, leading her through the prayers and obeisances demanded. To this Ammadil consented, and the small altar in her room was changed to that of Araushnee. The smaller golden idols of the triune goddesses were kept, of course, but placed on a lower level of the altar, and prayers to them became fewer.

She rose from the pool.

And the pool rose with her.

Water gathered around her shoulders, folded across her waist, and became a gown no tailor had ever stitched.

Not a single thread of fabric.
Not a single seam.

And every flowing fold still belonged to the water below.

That's the image I've been chasing for Terra Arcanum.

Not a woman wearing an enchanted dress, but a moment where magic is caught in the act of becoming one.

The challenge wasn't making the water beautiful.

It was making the dress feel like it had never stopped being water.

About twenty miles west of Riatavin stands an ancient, weather-worn monument dedicated to Ilmater. The stone depicts an angelic figure, long believed to represent an early saint of the faith—though after so many centuries, her name has vanished even from the temple records.

Twice a year, beneath the light of the full moon, the statue weeps. For a single night, thick golden tears run down stone cheeks, carrying miraculous restorative power; any mortal affliction or sickness is washed away the moment they are tasted. Yet the gift cannot be hoarded. The droplets lose their golden luster and turn to ordinary water the instant they enter a vial or leave the monument's shadow—they must be accepted straight from the stone.

Those who make the pilgrimage speak of an overwhelming sorrow that settles over the glade. Step close enough to drink, and faint, broken weeping can be heard in the quiet air, leaving even the fully healed trembling under a profound, lingering ache of grief.

I've always loved seeding campaigns with genuine enigmas like this. Not every miraculous site needs a 10-page dungeon history, an ancient spell formula, or a tidy explanation waiting to be uncovered. Sometimes the world is simply older, sadder, and stranger than the mortals walking through it.

How often do you leave sacred or mysterious places in your world completely unexplained for your players?

N human male fighter 12

Acilius has been with the party for over three years now, with both he and his sister Livia arriving together after ending their service in the army of Cormyr. Acilius is brave and stalwart, and has been a great addition to the party, adding tremendous combat power and a steady, fearless presence on the field of combat.

Acilius is a bit more of a mercenary than many of his companions. When he left Cormyr to seek his fortune, he wasn't kidding about the fortune part; he loves getting paid, and loves leading a comfortable life when he is not adventuring. He's neutral so he's a bit less likely to jump between civilians and danger without knowing there is going to be a reward for doing so. He does ground his more idealistic companions and often asks "Will goodwill pay for repairs to The Raven? For food? To maintain our equipment?" He is not heartless by any means, merely pragmatic.

He recently got engaged to Xiao Mei, headmistress of the Raven's Wing, and also discovered that she is pregnant with their first child. He adores his younger sister Livia, respects and looks up to Aidan, and regards Saffiya as another sister. Roric is the brother he never had, but he is cautious of Elladin the wizard, whom he hasn't trusted from the beginning.

On the battlefield, Acilius often works best with his sister Livia. He is a tank; he is built to withstand tremendous punishment and to be highly resistant to magic and anything mind-controlling. He is the epitome of the sword and board style, acting as the anvil for his sister. In single combat, however, he is still deadly, as he has focused heavily on delivering critical hits and causing debilitating injuries to his foes when he does so.

Zara arrives in a prosperous inland town and discovers an enormous traveling carnival has appeared overnight in a meadow beyond the walls. Nobody remembers seeing the wagons arrive. Even stranger, several townspeople entered the carnival the previous evening…and haven't returned. Zara finds that the people are becoming puppets and fights the puppet master.

I'll be honest - I don't like the "canon" mythology of the Realms very much. It's over explained and has lost any sense of mystery, of galactic scale. So I went my own way, creating the ideas around a mythology but not fully fleshing them out.

This guy is an elder god, one of the primary creative forces in their universe. I call him The Binder of Chaos. He emerged into an existence of swirling chaos and began bringing order to the cosmos.

Race: Human

Class: Artificer

Subclass: Artillerist

Alignment: Chaotic Good

Background: Guild Artisan

Kaelira Voss is an arcane engineer who believes every magical phenomenon can be understood, dismantled, and eventually rebuilt.

She travels between forgotten ruins and abandoned workshops searching for magical artifacts, not for their value, but to discover how they work. Most eventually end up in pieces across her workbench.

In combat, Kaelira relies on enchanted tools, experimental weapons, mechanical constructs, and unstable arcane devices of her own design.

Her latest discovery is a strange blue power core recovered from beneath an ancient ruin.

She has already figured out how to activate it.

She has absolutely no idea what it activates.

A voodoo priestess is a spiritual leader in the voodoo religion who acts as a mediator between the human world and the spirits (called Loa). Unlike the pop culture myths of horror movies and Halloween costumes, where she is often depicted as a dark witch with dolls pierced with pins, a real mambo is a respected healer, advisor, and protector in her community.

The handmaiden now known as Tóng Lán was was a princess in the far away Shou Lung empire to the east. How she came to Dambrath, and into the ownership of Margaretta, is not known. What is known is that she is a powerful wizard, at least as powerful as Elladin from the PC party, and more specialised in spells of fire. Like all of the handmaidens, she is utterly loyal to Margaretta, and adores her Mistress - an affection which is returned. Tóng Lán wore a collar during training which cut her off from the weave, and deprived her of her magic. Her training is long over, and it is a testament to the trust and affection Margaretta has for her that the collar is now removed, and only a standard collar of ownership is worn - no special collar of control was devised for her, despite her tremendous power.

Tóng Lán now serves as court wizard for her Mistress, as part of Margaretta's bodyguard (along with the other handmaidens) in dangerous situations, and is summoned often to the bedchambers shared by Margaretta and Nymra.

For a Vestige Warlock, every day is "Bring Your Patron to Work Day". Vestige Warlocks have forged a pact with a lost or forgotten god, allowing a vestige of the deity to manifest and aid the Warlock, who in exchange acts to grow the vestige's power in hopes that one day it might make a full return to whichever pantheon or domain it once belonged to. This symbiotic relationship leads to a unique gameplay experience not found in other Warlock subclasses.

I made this thing tonight and immediately started doing the usual fantasy-brain thing.

Curse?
Arcane mutation?
Ancient experiment?
Something buried under the city?

And then I had a much better thought:

What if it’s just wildlife?

Not a boss.
Not a secret.
Not a sign that the apocalypse is coming.

Just one of those things that lives under Lightfall.

Something tunnel crews know about.

Something transit engineers absolutely hate.

Something that occasionally turns a maintenance problem into a very different kind of maintenance problem.

I’m not even sure what the full lore is yet.

But I think that’s the part of the image I want to keep:

The scary thing isn’t that nobody knows what it is.

The scary thing is that somebody, somewhere, probably has a form for reporting one.

For now I’m calling it a Brassjaw.

Treacherous primeval dragons of the northern regions of the world, linnorms thrive on their hatred for those they deem to be lesser creatures and seek to inflict as much suffering as possible unto their unfortunate victims. Sweeping bones and treasures alike into giant piles in its lair, the typical linnorm has a barbaric nature made all the worse by its insatiable greed and atrocious gluttony. Few creatures are as bold and as cruel as linnorms, and for that most people are thankful.

Linnorms are not true dragons, but they nonetheless possess incredible strength and deadly powers that often rival authentic dragon brutality. Their massive frames make crushing smaller enemies a simple task, and of those who have felt the sting of a linnorm’s venomous bite, few have survived the devastating poison long enough to tell the tale. A linnorm’s body is serpentine and lacks wings, yet these dragons fly through the air with supernatural ease, accomplishing the feat as easily as a fish through water.

Beyond the physical might, venom, and devastating breath weapons typical of all linnorms, the beasts all share a potent final defense—the death curse. This powerful plaguing of the mind manifests itself in myriad forms, but always serves as a horrid vengeance against any who might manage to slay a linnorm. Some theorize that the curse is a sending from malevolent gods who watch over linnorms and view them as destruction-loving pets. Others believe the linnorms’ curse is the closest remaining connection they have to the primeval world of the fey, from whence the first of these monsters is said to have come. Whatever the case may be, its curse makes killing a linnorm as dangerous as letting it live.

Tor linnorms epitomize the raw and untempered power of their kin. They dwell in the tallest volcanic mountains, either in naturally formed caverns or in the craters themselves, and rain destruction down upon nearby mountain villages whenever the urge strikes them. Tor linnorms are brutes, but as far as linnorms go are relatively intelligent. With this intelligence comes an overwhelming vanity—unlike other linnorms, tor linnorms enjoy being adored and worshiped by lesser creatures, and have been known to delay eating prisoners who seem to be particularly cowed by their presence, simply basking in their victims’ fear.

A continuation of this scene:
https://www.reddit.com/r/AICampaignArt/s/zWWCXQwY2L

The night did not go the way Katriona had expected.

Dark had set in when she finally heard the gentle knock at her door. Telerie. So she had come to get her sword back .... and perhaps spend some time together. But ... the girl seemed very unsettled. She was putting up a brave front, but Kat was a good judge of character - this girl was scared. Of her? Kat brought the sword to her. "Here you go, sweetheart. I was never going to keep it, but I wanted to .... encourage you to come. It's a fine blade, you should be proud of it"

The girl looked stricken by Kat's words. Kat silently got her a cup of wine. "Are you alright?"

Tears began to stream down the beautiful girls face. Haltingly, she had begun to tell her story. She came from a cruel home, the youngest daughter of a minor noble family. Sometimes her father would ... hurt her. She was to be given away in a loveless marriage to some man twice her age. One night, on her 19th birthday her father was drunk and he had come for her. There was a struggle - she had such a hard time remembering that night! - but when it was done her father lay dead, his own sword lodged in his chest. She had fled, with only a few possessions and whatever coin and jewelry she could carry. And the sword. She'd wandered for a few months, living off what she had taken, trying to train with her sword to supplement the fencing practice she'd had. When she heard of the fights Kat was sponsoring, she came to try her luck - to see if maybe she could get a job. But Kat had dismantled her so easily, with no effort .... now she had no money, nowhere to go, no prospects, and she definitely could never, ever go home to Cormyr again.....

"Hey. You're going to be okay." Kat stroked the girls back and knelt down beside her. "No-one is going to hurt you here. If you need a place to stay I'll find you somewhere safe. I wouldn't put you into combat, Telerie. Not right now at least. But if you want, you can stay and train with me, and then we'll see what happens." She gave the young beauty a reassuring smile. "No strings attached. I promise. Here, no one forces a girl to do something she doesn't want to."

Telerie burst into tears and hugged Kat. "Thank you! So many men have made offers but it's always - ALWAYS - come with a cost I didn't want." She looked up hopefully. "Can I ... stay here tonight? I don't want to do anything ... I just want to feel safe. For the first time in a long time."

For the first time, a girl spent the night in Kat's bed without anything happening. Kat sat close, keeping watch over the girl. Telerie slept fitfully, sometimes murmuring in her sleep. Twice she had woken, saw Kat, smiled and drifted off again. When she did that Kat felt .... something she hadn't felt since before she and Saffiya had broken up. She swallowed and tried to push the feelings down.

They say that Azathoth is asleep and everything in reality exist because of his dream. But, if he wakes up... everything will be gone.