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So it is written, that our children may know

All seemed calm. Clear skies had promised a clear night and a bright morn the next. Though it did not last, I shall always hold the memory dear because I fear I will never again enjoy the warm summer night, without trepidation that the fires will come again.

The sun did not set, though it sat heavy and fat on the hills beyond Panachel. Instead the fattened flame grew larger, exploding as a Wizards orb might in the heat of battle, though the light it gave off cast no shadows but the light itself. I turned back toward the great house, my duty to ensure the safety of my liege, the sovereign elect of Aramand, and surely this was the work of whatever Thrace of Shadow ruled in Vasch this day. Possibly, though not likely an attack on our borders. As I turned toward the greathouse, I saw, what I saw cannot be explained. The house sat at once much larger than it ever has been before though I dismissed this as being closer than I thought I had been to it. Then I ran toward it and found that, in fact I was much further than I had truly been from my destination. I found myself running for days it seemed and as I ran toward my goal I watched the sky combust as if the clouds were kindling.

The fiery clouds roiled and multiplied striking out randomly with lightning purple like royal vestiges. When I arrived at the house I found the guards, once armed with staff of ice, frozen in solid blocks, leaving the home undefended. Inside the ever burning torches spewed fire across the ceiling of the home. Mages poured from the antechamber beginning to cast water across the ceiling. Some began to scream and water poured from their mouths as they drowned. The water poured from all of the holes In their flesh and vanished as it hit the stone floor. One still stood water erupting from the tip of a wand, and his eyes as blue as the fiery clouds, the shadows he cast bright and terrible. He extinguished the fires eating at the roof, and turned to me. I did not know the name of this man, though I was aware of his employ in the service of the house and the sovereign elect. I screamed in shock as he turned his wand on me and pinned me to the wall with spikes of ice, before pulling a keen dagger from his belt, and jabbing it in and out of his arms and neck, falling to the floor as purest water poured from his wounds as if from a fleshy decanter.

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The Darkest Veins of Vasch is a D and D 4e campaign set in the Country of Panachel, set two months after the spellplague. All Player Character races are permitted. All Classes are permitted with the exception of Arcane classes. Hybrid Arcane classes are permitted.

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Aspects of this world are thankfully borrowed/inspired by several sources. Bedlam and Avelin in name only are products of the WOTC DM help Chaos Scar board.

The names of several towns are inspired by Major Spoiler’s Critical Hit podcast none of Rodrigo’s amazing flair exists.

The chaos Scar as well as any 4e references are products of WOTC, and I use them, happy that someone did the hard work for me already.

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