Githyanki Therapy: Signs of Past Apocalypses

What is Githyanki Therapy?

This is the act of posting a mad and beautiful idea on the internet, bonus points for posting it in such a way so that others can participate and/or post their own mad and beautiful ideas.

Githyanki Therapy is usually something I do after I have taken part in some kind of stupid-ass internet argument…

But not this time! I have been saving the drama for my mama.

Yesterday I tweeted: “I think any good D&D world has weathered a few apocalypses.” 

So in the comments or in your own blog posts linked back to this one, let’s show sign-posts of a world’s end, of climactic, often arcane relics and ruins that show the layers and epochs of a fantasy world.

Ruined Witchtowers – Once the proud towers of Tiefling witchlords, when they ruled the world at the head of devil armies led by warlock-generals now they are ruins whose broken parapets touch the clouds while their under-layers reach into the hells. Some say the towers were destroyed during a skirmish of the Blood Wars, other scholars say a sect of Bahamutish Paladins who send their greatest warriors into the hells laid siege to the towers with small elite holy teams.

Arkton – a small town built in the shadow of a cyclopean ship, nowhere near the sea. Scholars who study the ship say the greater part of it is buried in the ground and that its crash landing from the star-sea ended the Reign of Dragons.

The Hand – In the middle of a desert is The Hand, a festering hand cut off at the wrist, the size of the Tiamat Cathedral’s five grand doors. It is often covered in flies or cultures who peck at it. Those who can deal with the unholy smell and watch it have said the fingers and palm flex from time to time, as if only recently chopped off from whatever deity’s limb it came from.

 

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8 thoughts on “Githyanki Therapy: Signs of Past Apocalypses

  1. I’m usually a bit light on ruins. I write poems and tales of legends of the creation of the world and the early days (ala Silmarillion) for the players. anything more than a “simple” +1 sword or item like a Ring of Protection +1) generally has a name and a legend attached that the players can discover. As I am a tad stingy with magic items anyway, it makes the ones that find more special and enhances the feel of the world.

  2. Well, there is the Ring of the Elemental Lords that played a huge role in one of my campaigns. It served as a pearl of power for most Magic-Users. For elves, it was also a RoP +2. For a family of the royal family of the lost kingdom of Vallendor it added an additional +3 to saves vs. elemental magic and caused targets of the wielder’s elemental spells a -5 penalty and allowed some other powers.

    When one ofthe players found out he was distantly related to the Kings of Old, new avenues opened up and the party organized to retake the fallen kingdom.

    Part of the ring’s construction was a shining gem, invisible to non-elvan eyes believed to be one of the Shards of Morning. This tied into one of the creation myths, the Lament of the High Ones, that is the Archangels the rulers of the elements and the fall of their brother Sammiah who became the Dark of the Moon. After his fall, the fifth lord, who controlled the element of magic that binds the other four elements together, tried to destroy the sun by freezing it. War broke out as the Four tried to defeat him. Finally, Ana, the One, stepped in and all five bowed to His might. He set the Sun back in her motion but the frozen rays of her corona shattered and fell to the Earth. And they are imbued with the magic of the first days and shine with power to the bright eyes of the elves, the One’s First children. But the eyes of the other races, they are are unseen.

    That’s a very abbreviated version of the lay that also ties into my myths of the creation of the races and the Fall of Sammiah. I get very verbose, but Tolkien is my guide. 🙂

  3. In the desert to the east of Kalesh is a hedge of cyclopean black monoliths, jutting out of the earth like so many broken ribs of something unspeakably vast. An inhuman wall to divide two sides of something that no one remembers anymore. In their shadows the monstrous watchmen still prowl.

    In the Great Desolation to the south, crashed rusting iron vessels lie on the plain, like the discarded shells of odd mollusks, their interior crawling with oblivious ghouls, shipwrecked survivors from an aeon before seas changed place.

    In the deep and far places one can still find the Unborn metal men that the gods built to wage war on the Chaos Below.

    In the Lost Library, the great humming Keeper with a glowing face still recites names and missed return dates in its lonely alcove.

    Men is young and the world is old. Burned by many fires, drowned by many floods.

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