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Boatman
The following account comes from G'neera Irraddin, a t'skrang Boatman. A merchant
by trade, she is most active in the Serpent River's many branches, offering her services and
notable for her adventures. Her style and brilliant coloration — like a sunset over Death’s
Sea — are reflected in her cocky demeanor and arrogant posture. Don’t be fooled by the
ruffles and jaunty purple cape, her reputation is dangerous.

Garret, Troubadour, Scholar, Gentleman of Kaer Vallis, 1517TH

Following the Course

L
et it be known I never shy away from confrontation. Really. Nothing
stands in my way. Not the waterfalls of Sssik. Not swamp threshers.
Not some arrogant pirate with an orange-sailed boat. No, I'm not loud
and aggressive. I am who I am. Proudly Boatman. Proudly t'skrang. Both are the
same. Don't let the naysayers distract you! They are probably jealous of me.
I'm determined to make a Name for myself. I want a Name for myself! I want
to see more of the Serpent and beyond. Hear the water sing. Make my chaida
proud and all that. I have my own boat, you know. The Merry Claws of Barsaive.
I earned it fair and square!
Hear me. The world is mine to conquer, spices and goods to trade, haggle
and bargain, riches to flow in like fast river currents.

They are everywhere. Loud, boastful - and the stories! Always the stories!
You don't know whether to believe 'em or not. But aye, they love the water very
much. To 'em, water is a living thing!

- Na Sun, merchant of Bartertown

Growing Up with Talons (or Talents)

The water moves. The green Serpent ebbs and flows like a living thing. The
eddies, the whirlpools, the swirls, the murmurs, the singing. Can you hear its
song? Water is alive! I know it as intimately as the blood flowing in my veins. The
river calls out to me, a song that is the voice of water and the river. A rhythmic
curving in and out, like glimmering carp scales. I was already aware of it when I
was just a hatchling scrubbing the deck of Bright Fang spotless. It was Irraddin’s
favorite – she was the captain before our lahala and still felt a strong bond with
her boat. She ruled everybody's lives with an iron claw and sharp tongue. She was
one scary lahala! Irraddin made us harvest reeds, bundle them up, and repair the

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fishing nets. We sold fish for profit, amongst other things. Absolutely no rest on
the boat. Irraddin hated laziness. She didn't tolerate sloppiness and yelled at
anyone she found with nothing to do.
The water. The water sang, and I sang with it. Irraddin hated my singing at
first. Said I sang like a screeching featherless bird. Then she looked closely at
me with those beady eyes of hers as if she knew something. For a long time, she
watched me. Everywhere I went, I would see her - perched on the boat's upper
deck, puffing at her cheroot. At night, when the chores were done, and the river
water gurgled around us, I sat with the rest of the hatchlings while Irraddin and
the Council of Women sang in their reedy, earnest voices. I watched the water
swirl and ripple in concentric circles in time with the drumbeats. Dipping my
claw in, I felt the warm water shimmer. It had its own rhythm. Its own tune.

Aye, I know G’neera. Seen her cut through the water, turn on a silver;
her boat dances when she’s at the helm. We’ve danced before and we’ll dance
again. You can tell the water sings to her and runs in her veins, just as I see the
currents dance and feel it in mine.

Jennice, Captain of The Orange Cutter and merchant of opportunity

The music was in my veins. I yearned to travel the Serpent and be part
of its magnificent song. I worked my way up. Gritted my fangs. Endured the
goads, insults, and scolding from Irraddin and the other senior women. I
had to convince Irraddin I was ready to ply the river with my boat. I was still
very young then. I knew I felt the boat as much as the water. I knew it was my
birthright to have my own boat. Irraddin laughed in my face and challenged me
to complete three tasks before I could earn my place on a boat: get the spice
sticks from old Ika, a childhood rival of Irraddin, procure spider silk from the
black market and purchase candied baby swamp squid, Irraddin's favorite treat,
but apparently extremely rare. Now when I think about it, Irraddin was trying to
teach me something. That life isn't as smooth flowing as the river, sometimes we
couldn't get what we wanted. Even when my blood wanted so much to navigate
the Serpent, I needed to learn a few things before I could do so.
So, I set off on my own, using only my charisma, bluster, and bravado. I was
also a deft hand with my sword, Kissbiter. I challenged Ika to a duel, beat her
soundly and grabbed the spice sticks before her enraged clan reacted. Then
I found spidersilk - elf merchants! - and haggled my way through with sheer
praise and sweet talk. Elves love beautiful words, don't they? The last one
was the absolute worst. Candied baby swamp squid? I had to search Barsaive
upstream and down for the delicacy before I found it at a roadside stall. In a clay
pot. With a mass of black flies buzzing on top of it! I don't know why Irraddin
loved it. It smells and tastes foul!

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 Ask ten Boatmen a question and you get twenty answers. All of them are
valid and contradict each other at the same time! Training seems a hard slog.
No training is ever smooth, I tell ya! But all will tell you we ain't sailors. We
know the water better than anyone.

Itschyo Kadai Narill, Captain of The Laughing Carp

Earning My Claws
Of course, Irraddin didn't concede failure gracefully. The stone-hearted
chaikoto would never let go of a prize... not without prying her claws off with
steel pliers. Besides, we t'skrang hate to lose. She was determined to make my
life more difficult. She decided to take me under her claw. My boat remained out
of my grasp. I was furious.

It’s perhaps a little embarrassing to include such strong language in a

scholarly text. "Chaikoto" is an uncharacteristically strong term coming from
an already flamboyant and verbose people. It expresses vehement emotions
(like anger) and there isn’t a good translation to Throalic. A direct translation
is "hard-egg woman": eggs with hard shells are associated with t'skrang known
for their tough and domineering personalities. To be clear, this misses some of
the nuances which aren’t fit to repeat here.

Garret

Now, before I continue. Boatmen are not the same as Air Sailors and Sailors.
Just because you hear the word "sailor" doesn't mean we share the same talents.
Similar, but listen to me: we are different. Just because we have boats doesn't
mean we are the same! They hear the air. We listen to water. Sure, air has currents
like water and they show a certain affinity - nay, bond - with air currents. But
Boatmen are different. Sailors have their claws stuck in both worlds, traveling
over water, but reliant on air to speed their journey. Boatmen... Boatmen simply
are one with water. Nothing else. No wind. No air. Just water. And its wondrous
song. Even though Boatmen are confined to rivers, we are unique. Sure, Air
Sailors are free to move about. But they may never understand the river, and
hear the water sing as much as we do.
As Boatmen, we listen to the water. We feel it in our bones, in our veins. The
river flows through us, as a common Boatman adage says. It flows in us, through
us, and around us like a living thing. I'm sure Air Sailors and Sailors have their own
opinions regarding air and water, but for Boatmen, water is life. Sure, Air Sailors
are free to move around in the air. Sure, Sailors play with wind and water. The
river moves constantly. Yet, there is a sense of order too. It has its own pattern,
its own reason. To be a Boatman is indeed a liberating thing. You feel the water
moving with and in you, but you are grounded (what a word!). You find your

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anchor in water. It's literally our lifeblood. We draw our strength from it. From the
river. From the rhythms. From its myriad songs. Hence, water governs our lives.
It's our center. And like the river, we cannot remain still. We adapt. We move. Like
the Serpent. If there is something in our way, we navigate around it.
Irraddin impressed that on me the moment she started training me. I admit
I grew frustrated. Why was she so adamant on training me? Was she jealous?
She wanted me to work with my own crew. A captain of a boat doesn't work
alone. They work together with their crew. They are the boat. I need to know my
crew as well as I know water. They are family, claw-mates! She told me too that I
needed to move like the Serpent. Flow like it, think like it. Water moves forward.
There is ebb and flow, but water doesn't retreat. It simply moves on. If we stay
stagnant, we sink. That's why even in water, we swim. We don't remain in the
same place. Boatmen move often. The Serpent never sleeps. Even at its quietest,
undercurrents churn the river bed. Water moves even under thick carpets of
water weeds. It must move.
The Boatman learns how to read the river at its various moods. Its songs
change. We navigate according to those songs. Irraddin often warned me about
things underwater like driftwood or rock formations that would snarl rudders
and trap a riverboat. Those we had to be aware of. I swam underwater to remove
branches! The water would tell us. It flows around the obstacle. There is a shape,
a form. The songs. Merry. Angry. Fast. Slow. Turgid. Swift. Blocked. Each has its
own distinct tune and rhythm. A claw-mate of mine sees water as woven colors
- but it's a very rare talent indeed. The water spirals and swirls. Every Boatman
has a different story to tell you when it comes to water. I see the songs like bright
patterns in my mind. Sometimes, I feel that familiar shiver.
You just... know it. You have that special connection.

They hate to be called pirates. They get most offended when they hear the
word. Yet, what do you call a bunch of flamboyant braggarts who think they
are merchants and still smuggle goods?

Boris Stonehammer, dwarf trader and adventurer

Adventure Awaits with Sharp Claws

It's not just raw charisma and a bond with water. You must be agile of body
and mind. You are on a boat, for the egg's sake! You also need a strong heart,
because water will fight you just as smugglers and pirates will fight you. Me? I'm
just a river merchant!
Like water, a Boatman must react quickly and move with the changes.
Adapt! And always listen!
This is my Discipline. It's what I am.
By this time, I knew how to read the river and pilot Bright Fang. I knew how
to swim and dive underwater like the crocodiles who bask with their toothy

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maws wide open on the riverbanks. And like the crocodiles, I knew the shape of
the water, the stirring of the undercurrents and learned how to breathe easily
in water. I breathed water like I breathed air. The water guided me as I swam.
I followed the patterns! I honed my combat skill, using my claws and my tail.
The tail is such an effective weapon! Together with Kissbiter, I trained with my
cousins, my crew-mates onboard the boat. I learned how to leap from heights
and land without falling, and run along the poles. The only thing I struggled with
was gauging the speed at which water flowed. Like wind, the water has moods.
Water changes quickly. I had to learn how to look at water, at how it flowed in
eddies, waves and ripples. "Be patient," Irraddin snapped at me one day. "Don't
rush into it like a sunbaked fool! For the egg's sake, LISTEN to the water!"
Under her tutelage, I negotiated with the other nialls and aropagoi living
along the Serpent and dealt with traders and merchants of all Namegivers. The
other races don't seem to understand us Boatmen and they don't share our
bond to the river and with water. However, Irraddin cautioned me not to judge
too harshly. T'skrang have a saying: Don't judge an egg by its color.
There is more to plying the Serpent River, she reminded me again and
again. No need to resort to mindless and needless violence. Protect your crew.
They are most important. Sometimes, the best kindness is to show mercy to
your opponent. That she said with a twinkle in her eye. And always remember

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to move forward. Never stay stagnant. And never bear hatred towards your
opponents. The other races, the other Namegivers, have their own purposes
and talents too.
I grew close to my crew. We worked together under the sun, steering the
boat and manning the wheel. We learned to read each other's moods. Slowly, I
learned to lead. Not just posing on the bow of the boat but understanding my
crew enough to give the right orders at the right time. The atmosphere and
mood of the boat was like the river. Ever-moving. Changeable. Jubilation from
a good fishing trip. Frustration from a snarl of underwater roots entangling
Bright Fang's rudder. The mood grew gloomy like an impending thunderstorm.
As we often say amongst our kind, we sharpened our claws and tails. We
whetted our wits.
We were ready for anything.
Irraddin's lessons proved invaluable in the end. I will explain later after this
cup of wine.
So, she promised me one more task.
One more task!

Boatmen, they call themselves. They surely talk a lot. Yet... they are not
wrong.

Na Sun, merchant of Bartertown

We call ourselves “Shivopas”, roughly “one who communes with the river”
in your tongue. Boatman is a very dwarf word. It’s technically correct but lacks
the richness of the proper term and misses the point entirely.

Corvus , Captain of Serpent’s Sword

Navigating the Serpent

My chaida often advised me not to pester Irraddin too much because she
had enough problems. She had the entire village to look after! He was wise and
kind, the only parent I knew. Unlike Irraddin, who was often hard and harsh,
sometimes downright unreasonable. He encouraged me to listen too. Part of a
Boatman is being able to listen to others. Not just water and the boat. Listen to
my crew. Listen to Irraddin. Listen to myself.
I was still very young. Brash, hot-headed, ready to fight the world (still am,
to be honest). I wanted so much to have my boat that I would do anything
just to get her. The niall maintains three boats, including Bright Fang. We are
a wealthy niall. I'd been eying The Merry Claws of Barsaive for years. It was
so beautiful. The water sang merriest when it sailed. The dragon figurehead
snarled with outstretched claws. I decided there and then it was The Merry
Claws I wanted.

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 Irraddin set me on my one last task: sail up the Serpent, to its very northern
end, to the cataracts upstream from Iopos, and ensure The Merry Claws is still in
one piece when I return. If I return.
The Merry Claws! With eager claws, I grabbed the chance.
The day before we pushed off from the river bank, Irraddin warned me
there would be obstacles during the journey with a sly smirk. She didn't warn
me about pirates. Of course, I am not afraid of pirates! Pour me some wine. Let
me tell you more.
The first part of the journey was smooth, the water flowed in gentle
eddies around the bow. The Merry Claws had her own moods too. The creak
of the decks, the thrum of the engines, the hum to tell you she's moving. It was
peaceful, serene. The water murmured softly. The sky was a bright egg-blue,
the heat rising from the earth. The smells of loam and weeds lingered in the
air, almost lulling me to a light doze. Nothing stirred, only the flapping of river
birds. I listened to the currents. It was an odd song, with a repetitive pattern,
like a series of silver fish scales. I knew that pattern. Was the river trying to tell
me something? Was there something ahead? The song-pattern grew brighter
and brighter, as if it burned like an incandescent white fire. As if the river was
screaming at me. My entire body vibrated with the song, right to the tip of my
tail. I had never heard the Serpent sing like this before. I listened hard, opening
all my senses. Listen, listen, listen.
Then they appeared.
They had a Boatman onboard, I am damned sure. Someone who knew
water and wind as intimately as I did water. I cursed myself for letting my guard
down, for almost dozing off. I thanked the River for its warning. In my head, I
could hear Irraddin laughing. Oh, how she would mock me! I would never live
the shame down. With a snarl, I slid Kissbiter out of its scabbard and stood, feet
firmly planted, on the bow. I warned my crew to stay sharp-eyed and sharp-
clawed. My deckhands readied their weapons.
Pirates. They were a mixture of humans and t'skrang. What a disreputable
clutch of ne’er-do-wells! I glared at the one single figure standing on the
incoming boat's bow. Was it their Boatman? Their captain? The boat's orange
sail ballooned out, catching the wind. I had to admit, there was some talent
there. It was cutting through the water swiftly. The boat was built for speed. A
hit-and-run then.
I won't go into details how we fought them off. Merry Claws took minor
damage. Some tiny nicks on her bow, nothing more. I was able to pilot her past
the pirate ship. We kept up a barrage of insults too. We are good at that, we
t'skrang. Our words are as barbed as talons.
To add further insult to injury, I made sure their rudder didn't work,
leaving the boat lame on water. Yes, it wounded my heart I would do that to

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a fine vessel... but I was pleased that Merry Claws was safe, and my crew was
unscathed. We slipped away from the other boat and its Boatman raised her fist
at me, shouting insults that would make a Horror weep. I would remember the
sailboat's distinctive orange sail... and her. We would have many encounters in
the years to come, some of them not as pleasant like our first. But that's another
story for another day. Oh, I took their cargo. Boxes of gems. No unnecessary
bloodshed. Cunning. Bravery. Working together with one's crew.
All Irraddin's lessons.
When I navigated my boat back to my home, I spied Irraddin standing on
Bright Fang's dragon figurehead. I swear she was grinning.

GAME INFORMATION
Boatmen serve aboard countless
riverboats on the Serpent River. Not
every crew member is a Boatman, but
Boatmen make the best officers and
captains on the river. A Boatman must
know the river, their crew, and their
ship; but many Boatmen also have
a fierce desire to know a little about
everything else too.
Important Attributes: Charisma,
Dexterity, Willpower
Karma Ritual: The Boatman sits
alone in silent meditation preferably
near a river or other body of water
for several minutes, picturing in their
mind’s eye their riverboat cruising
through the current at the start of a
long journey. The adept envisions a
journey they hope to make one day,
imagining scenes of this journey, including the risks and perils, and how their
training and skills might help make the journey a safe one. The ritual is complete
when, half an hour later, the imagined journey ends safely.
Artisan Skills: Rune Carving, Wood Carving
Note: Boatmen in Barsaive are primarily t’skrang. They don’t have a
connection to air as Air Sailors do, instead being connected to water, particularly
the coursing water of the river system. Sailors straddle both worlds, traveling
across the seas and rivers, but relying on wind to speed their journey. Air

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Sailor, Boatman, and Sailor are treated as the same Discipline for meeting
requirements. Air Weaving, River Weaving, and Sea Weaving are treated as the
same talent for meeting requirements.

Boatman Changes to Air Sailor

Half-Magic: The Boatman uses Half-Magic for knowledge of riverboat
designs, recognition of different types of riverboats, commonly river trade
routes, and riverboat crew complements. It may also cover the maintenance,
repair, and construction of riverboats (this does not include fire engines).

Talents and Abilities

Novice Tier
Free Talent: Air Sailing becomes Pilot Boat* or Sailing* (player’s choice).
Novice Talent Options: Unarmed Combat replaces Distract, Read River*
replaces Navigation
Karma: The adept may spend a Karma Point once per round on any action
while on board a riverboat.
First Circle: River Weaving replaces Air Weaving, Swimming* replaces Wind
Catcher

Journeyman Tier
Journeyman Talent Options: Swift Kick replaces Air Speaking
Sixth Circle: Disarm replaces Air Dance

Master Tier
Thirteenth Circle: Windborne Speed is called Riverborne Speed, but otherwise
works as described on page 22 of the Companion.

Sailor Changes to Air Sailor

Half-Magic: The Sailor uses Half-Magic for knowledge of ship designs,
recognition of different kinds of ships, common sea trade routes, and ship crew
compliments. It also covers the maintenance, repair, and construction of ships.

Talents and Abilities

Novice Tier
Free Talent: Sailing* replaces Air Sailing
First Circle: Sea Weaving replaces Air Weaving
First Circle: Swimming* replaces Wind Catcher

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166
 Gauntlet
The following document is a transcript of a conversation I had with a human Gauntlet
Named Kelim Telaar. There’s almost a palpable aura around him, somewhere between
serenity and the moment of calm before a Badlands antlion erupts from the earth. Though
wrapped in cloth, complex, luminous runes could be seen covering his hands. By request, I
caught up with him overlooking a cliff near Jerris shortly after dawn. He beckoned for me
to sit by his side, looking out over the canopy of the Liaj Jungle. It was clear this place was
special to him.

Garret, Troubadour, Scholar, Gentleman of Kaer Vallis, 1517TH

Fist of the Elements

H
ave you witnessed the power of a Gauntlet for yourself? It is not
ordinary, it is authoritative. It is not mundane, it is extraordinary.
Our power is of the elements but channeled to be so much greater.
As magistrates of the natural order, it is our charge to destroy that which would
ravage our world. To that end, we strike as if the fist of the Earth. As I’m sure
you’ve heard, we are known for striking down our foes with a single blow.
You want to know how that is possible? So truly, you don’t know… For
anyone who has seen what I can do when empowered by my knowledge of the
elements would never forget! Like seeing a Horror for the first time, my strike
tests your mettle on an instinctual level. Like a predator to prey, every muscle in
your body, every thought in your head, screams… run.
I am the perfect weapon—not because I can defeat you with a single blow
—but because I can take everything you can throw at me. I am the Earth, a
steadfast boulder rolling your way. You may cut me, you may bash me, you may
even try to slow me, but when you tire—I am the avalanche that tramples you. I
am the waterfall that drowns you. I am the unstoppable force. I am the fist of the
elements. I am their Gauntlet.

To become a Gauntlet is to get lost in the elements and patterns but be

reborn anew. You must lose yourself in the eternal essence of the elemental
forces. You must let go of your mortal trappings and accept you are but a leaf
in an autumn forest, a drop of water in the sea. Only then can you begin to
understand the insignificance of your existence within the scope of the Earth
and the impartiality of nature.

Omen the Upstart, elf Gauntlet

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 I will never forget the first time I laid eyes on a Gauntlet. Watching an adept
of the Discipline fight is like watching people stand against the tireless current
of the Serpent River. There is nothing you can do to slow them, let alone stop
them. And, if you don’t run, the flood washes away any adversity in its path.
Omen showed me the way. She showed me here, at this place, several
years ago.
Marching down the grassy hill, the heavily cloaked woman relentlessly
pursued the last of the Mischievous Seven, a network of kidnappers selling
off impoverished children from Jerris. Omen caught up with them on the cliff
just over there. With nowhere else to run, they could only hope their numbers
would aid them in a fight.
Only one of them had the sense to jump.
She marched inexorably, concealed by her thick, dark cloak, an apparition
of promised violence and retribution. The kidnappers set a hasty ambush,
drawing her in with crossbow fire while others readied to flank from behind
those tall rocks. Bolt after bolt did nothing to harm, slow, or even distract her.
They only stripped her of her shroud, revealing a brilliant blue armor made
of living crystal infused into her skin. The reveal was stunning, but only for a
moment, as nothing prepared them for what came next.

I am a living weapon, tirelessly honing my fighting abilities and rooted to

the elements of our world. I move as water, fluid and effortlessly. I am filled with
the fire of life, raging and radiant. My skin is plate armor, ore richly veined.

Damarion the Dune Hammer, dwarf Gauntlet

Omen’s first strike landed just under the beak of a lunging t’skrang
swordsman. Her feet rooted into the ground just as her fist rose like a geyser.
The sheer force against the forward moving attacker shattered his spine with a
series of cracks and pops. His head was nearly ripped from that chain of bone
and smashed into that large protruding stone overhead. It didn’t stop there.
Her fist continued through stone and t’skrang alike. What little remained was
twisted and mangled.
From my perch in the crow’s nest, I saw the last of them, a once mighty troll,
leap from the cliff to escape Omen. The fall was further than the troll hoped.
Pleading for help, he landed on our airship with a sharp snapping sound as
bones in both legs cracked. From overhead, a barrage of rock and stone rained
down from overhead immediately after with Omen in its midst. The rock slide
crashed into our airship, sending us off course and bouncing us off the cliff.
I thought she was a Passion incarnate! Knocked from my perch, I found
myself covered by debris on the deck as she walked calmly toward me. I guess
her work with the kidnappers was finished.
That’s how I met my master, my teacher, Omen the Upstart.

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 Lose what ego you have and embrace that which you take for granted. To
understand the elements is to open your mind beyond mortality, beyond time
as you know it, beyond the purview of Namegiver existence. I do not know the
answers you seek, but I know you have questions. Not all who wander are lost.
Join us and we will find answers together.

Omen the Upstart, elf Gauntlet

A Namegiver’s Curiosity
In the beginning I had many questions for Omen. While she told me much,
there is only so much our words can express. We deal in powers older than
our words and greater than our understanding. What I know is our origins are
rooted in the earth, the water, and the wood. Any Gauntlet can feel that! It is
something we innately know. I think of it as the Earth’s way of claiming us and
letting us know we belong close to her.
Omen told me the trees don’t ask where the soil comes from. Water doesn’t
ask why it flows. Fire doesn’t question its purpose. The elements are timeless to
us. We, on the other hand, live short lives. We want to believe there is meaning to
our existence, that we are significant. What if we were never meant to find our
answers? What if we were meant only to seek them? Herein lies the conundrum
of the Gauntlet, the inspiration to our curiosity.
We are of two minds, a timeless elemental force and a mortal Namegiver.
Every memory, every experience I have known is through the lens of a Namegiver,
an adept. My knowledge is limited by the perspective of a creature who needs to
eat, sleep, and find shelter. It is limited by a life led at the whim of emotions and
the pressures of a community.
But that is only part of who I am now! I survived, I am a Gauntlet. Now I seek
a more complete picture of my existence and the world around me. The need
to understand consumes me, it motivates me, it pushes me forward. That need
only grows as my power grows. Like the elements, my existence is consumed by
serving my purpose. Having burned as fire, I can tell you such an alignment is
both a blessing and a bane.

To learn what it means to be stone, to understand the element’s power, it’s

pattern, is to master it! We are not as strong as stone. We shatter stone.

Roogeh Moonlow, ork Gauntlet

Living with Two Minds

To lose yourself in the patterns of our world is to give yourself to those
patterns as much as it is to take from them. To burn, to drown, to be buried.
The pain experienced as a Namegiver is intolerable! In that moment something
must change. To become a Gauntlet, you must adapt, you must transcend your

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mortal trappings and become an avatar of the elements themselves. Fire does
not burn itself. Water does not drown. Dirt doesn’t breathe. Wood isn’t pained
by the loss of a limb. You must transcend and grow into something greater.
We learn to ignore pain. In our test of worthiness, we must become one with
the elements or die. They do not know pain. We plant our feet and commune
with the ground beneath us, taking its durability as our own. We remove our
minds from the Namegiver pain and tap into the timeless existence of the
elements. The current of the river never ceases. The flow of lava cannot be
turned aside. They continue until they have run their natural course. In battle,
we will these thoughts to the forefront of our mind. When we fight, we are the
elements around us and we see the world as such.
Eliminating self-doubt is one of the greatest advantages we have against
our foes. We are calm and measured while our enemies are tense, struggling to
master their nerves. We revert to our training instinctively without the weight
of indecision or the concern of loss. We forget the concept of fatigue, wielding
the elements as extensions of our own limbs, leaving heavy weapons to tire our
rivals. Foregoing thoughts such as the pursuit of perfection and the judgment of
others to muddy only the minds of our enemies. Emotions and a heavy mind are
only a weakness in battle and ours to exploit.
When asked about our connection to the element of air, I can’t help but
laugh! For all our talk of the elements, we have no connection to the air! I like to
think it is because the first Gauntlet was an obsidiman, but no one truly knows.
Others say it is because the air is ever-changing—like fickle words, they mean
nothing without action. We are like granite, forged of the Earth, sturdy and
unmoving. I’m always impressed when someone listens so carefully as to ask
that question.

Balmuth, the oldest obsidiman Gauntlet

Forged of two minds, we view the world differently than a Namegiver alone.
In our test of worthiness, we are flooded with observations collected since the
beginning of time. As Namegivers, so much of what we experience feels limited
compared to the breadth and depth of the experiences we perceive through
the elements. They do not wonder why the deer grazes or the beaver makes
a dam. Each new life that takes root doesn’t surprise them, they simply do not
care. They are emotionless. As a Namegiver, you know we constantly pursue
meaning in our lives. Namegivers attach emotion to everything, from Naming
pets to favorite stories. We create meaning even where there is none, tell tall
tales around the campfire.
We think, not so much as a blend of the two minds, but as one trying to
understand the other. It is a constant learning process, but one that taught us
to tap into the strengths of each mind when the other is a hindrance. While the
elements empower us in battle and protect us, the Namegiver mind inspires

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us with feelings of love,
anger, sadness, and
joy. Can you imagine a
life without emotion?
I can, as the elements
know nothing of such
things. They exist as
utilities. Even survival
becomes trivial without
individuality, as it is
merely a preference
to the unknown. Our
emotions and how we
react to them create
individuality. Would
you choose to exist if
you had to live without
emotions—feelings?
Sadly, there are
tales of Gauntlets who
lost their minds trying
to deal with the burden
of so much knowledge.
I have been told that
most who do not survive their initiation die from insanity. They lose the mental
battle, unable to adapt and forever buried or burnt alive in their mind. Leaving
only a shell of a body behind, their mind is lost to astral space. Some survive
only to have a perverted understanding of how nature works and our place in it.
Decisive action is admirable when it is favorable to you. It is painful, destructive,
and cruel when it isn’t.

Madness is a real problem among Gauntlets. There aren’t enough of us to

look after each other, especially if one loses their mentor. We are too powerful
for even one of us to go rogue. Most who are driven mad do not survive our
initiation. Occasionally, one does and they are scarred by the process. They
appear calm, confident, and in control of their abilities. They are also insane
and likely ready to commit atrocities in the name of nature.

Tenus, obsidiman Gauntlet

With two sets of memories, we must frequently question our thoughts. Our
knowledge of the elements gives us a sixth sense similar to touch but greater.
We innately feel the world more deeply around us. Through my feet on the

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ground, I can feel the density of the Earth below. I can smell the trees ready to
bud. Sitting, I can feel the faint flow of water and the occasional falling rock from
the cliff. We call it terrene, or to terrene one’s surroundings.
Our thoughts are also more difficult to process, leaving us prone to
obliviousness or even slow to act at times. Having a new sense as strong as a
dog’s nose, can be distracting. As vigilant magistrates, we must not let our sense
of terrene or the vast amount of information in our heads be used to cloud our
judgment. Omen taught me to practice meditation, both to free my mind and
improve my focus. Finding clarity is as much about letting your mind wander as
it is about focusing on one sensation. To breathe out, you must breathe in. We
are blessed with greater awareness. Yes, it can be distracting but it is a gift.
Earth’s Magistrate
Our reputation as a force to be reckoned with opens many doors. When it
doesn’t, we have no problem breaking them down.
Sometimes force is the only common language.
There are many places where Horrors still lie.
As abominations, they exist only to destroy
and further damage our world and its denizens.
Though, they are not the only creatures that
ravage our lands. All too often Namegivers
do as well.
Namegivers wage war for supremacy,
killing and enslaving one another for gold, power,
and prestige. We are not merely natures’ explorers and
investigators, but its magistrates. Namegivers live short
lives rarely concerning themselves with the long term
consequences of their actions on our world. We
are given the power to judge what threatens this
world—its survival—and destroy it.

Gauntlets are an abomination!

They are thugs who ruthlessly bully
their way through our cities. They think
they can come and go, doing whatever
they please, with no concern for our
laws or arbitration. Those monsters
leave a wake of destruction wherever
they go and should be punished.

Montis Thrule, dwarf bureaucrat

of Throal

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 That responsibility is something we do not take lightly, it our purpose, our
duty. Our connection to the elements allows us to funnel their power through
our bodies. We mold it through our will, altering our limbs to root into the
ground for leverage, burn hot like fire, or to strike with the weight of a crashing
tide. When a conversation cannot solve the problems that pain this world,
sometimes the fist is the only way through.
As a Gauntlet, I have countless memories through the elements that suggest
actions are futile. Earthly things run their course and expire in time. Life is short
and meaningless. Armed with these thoughts, this knowledge, it is no longer
enough to just act. There is no merit in correcting aproblem only for it to rise
again. You must make change with every deliberate action. Otherwise, what’s
the point? There is a root to every problem. There is a sickness that festers,
causing pain. The Gauntlet doesn’t serve as mere herbs to soothe pain. We are
the flood, Earth’s own agents of change.
What first started as a manipulation of wood, water, earth, or fire, grows
into a gestalt power greater than the sum of its parts. The elements we wield
like weapons in battle are plainly visible for some Gauntlets. Other Gauntlets
conceal their elemental strength into deceptively powerful attacks. Each is
taught by their mentor as there are not many of us to cross paths with. Many
fortify themselves in heavy armor, while others, like me, prefer to travel light and
look less intimidating. Our fighting prowess isn’t graceful, it is overwhelming.
What we lack in finesse we make up for in incredible power.

I devote myself to training my body so I can hone my abilities, but truly,

our power is in being a conduit for the elements and mastering our ability to
commune with the Earth. Our greatest tool is introspection and meditation. It
allows us to clear our mind, eliminate doubt, and to wield our power beyond
the limits of our imagination.

Wanderer, human Gauntlet

The Flow of Information

Gauntlets learned to commune through the elements to one another in a
meditative process we call flow. We convey large amounts of information to
one another through a mix of shared feelings and thoughts. It helps us clearly
communicate the problems we are dealing with and what we have learned so
far. To flow with another Gauntlet, both meditate near one another with a bare
hand or foot sharing common ground. Flow comes naturally to any Gauntlet
with a proper mentor. Each night, Omen and I rested under the stars, our
thoughts communing without effort. It becomes as natural as our nightly flow
with the elements. At rest, our bodies commune with their patterns.

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 The ability to flow with one another leads us to strong friendships, as we can
truly understand one another. In my apprenticeship, Omen taught me to cherish
the time we spend together and to celebrate each Gauntlet I meet. To pass up
the opportunity to flow with another Gauntlet is to miss out on a glimpse of a
lifetime. It feels like adding a lifelong friend to your memory in a short time. We
also learn vicariously of the other Gauntlets they’ve met, though only glimpses
at best.

GAME INFORMATION
Gauntlets turn their bodies into living weapons, enhancing their abilities
through force of will and pursuing a single, perfect attack. They can be self-
reliant, but seek to experience the world and reflect on those experiences,
opening their minds to deeper mysteries within.
Important Attributes: Perception, Strength, Willpower
Karma Ritual: The adept kneels or sits with skin directly in contact with
the earth or stone. They extend their senses, feeling the world around them.
Feeling the earth, fire, water, and wood around them. The adept narrows their
focus over the next 30 minutes to a single point, a single moment. When the
time is up, a shard of the ground leaps into the air and the Guantlet rises, strikes,
and destroys it with a single fluid motion.
Artisan Skills: Body Painting, Rune Carving
Half-Magic: Gauntlets use Half-Magic for knowledge of the elements,
different unarmed fighting techniques, and which prominent unarmed
combatants shaped someone’s fighting style. They also use it to resist fatigue,
distractions, and similar expressions of willpower and endurance.
Purifier Talents and Abilities

Novice Talent Options: Awareness, Battle Shout, Danger Sense, Etiquette,

Fireblood, Item History, Maneuver, Mystic Pursuit, Wilderness Survival, Wood
Skin

First Circle
Durability 7
Discipline Talents: Avoid Bow, Body Control*, Thread Weaving (Gauntlet
Weaving), Unarmed Combat, Wound Balance

Second Circle
Defense: The adept adds +1 to their Physical Defense
Discipline Talent: Deliberate Assault*

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Third Circle
Karma: The adept may spend a Karma Point on a Recovery test.
Discipline Talent: Steel Thought

Fourth Circle
Defense: The adept adds +1 to
their Mystic Defense
Discipline Talent: Studied
Counter*

Journeyman Talent Options:

Astral Sight, Cold Purify,
Evidence Analysis, Fire Heal,
Iron Constitution, Lion Heart,
Resist Taunt, Spot Armor Flaw,
Steely Stare, Waterfall Slam

Fifth Circle
Elemental Stance: After
actions are declared for the
round, but before any are
taken, the adept can spend
1 Strain to use Elemental
Stance. They gain +2 to their
unarmed Attack test, unarmed
Damage test,Physical Armor,
or Mystic Armor. The adept
can only make one Attack test
in a round where this ability is
used.
Karma: The adept may spend
a Karma Point on any unarmed
Damage test.
Discipline Talent: Earth Skin

Sixth Circle
Defense: The adept adds +2 to
their Physical Defense
Discipline Talent: Temper
Flesh

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Seventh Circle
Bonus: The adept gains +1 Recovery Test per day.
Discipline Talent: Crushing Blow

Eighth Circle
Defense: The adept adds +2 to their Mystic Defense
Discipline Talent: Focused Strike*

Warden Talent Options: Blood Share, Burning Vigor, Defensive Posture, Life
Check, Lion Spirit, Matrix Sight, Relentless Recovery, Resist Pain, Vine Armor,
Vital Strike

Ninth Circle
Pattern Infusion: The adept performs an eight-hour ritual to draw on
their pattern, strengthening it and infusing it into their physical body. The
manifestation of the ritual depends on the adept and how they choose to
use their pattern. Infusing it into their hands may cause glowing runes on
the surface as they anticipate or engage in combat, while similar runes could
exist across their body if their pattern is used defensively. Each adept’s ritual
is unique, based on their training and personal philosophy. Some travel to a
location where the barrier between worlds is weak, a location of great power,
one of personal significance, or that supports contemplation and introspection.
The ritual is often performed as the last step of becoming a Warden, but may be
done at any time. After the ritual, the adept takes 1 Blood Magic Damage and
chooses one of the following effects: +3 to their unarmed Damage tests or +3
to their Physical Armor. The adept can perform this ritual again to change their
bonus or remove it entirely.
Karma: The adept may spend a Karma Point on any active defense test (e.g.,
Avoid Blow, Resist Taunt, Steel Thought, etc.)
Discipline Talent: Critical Hit

Tenth Circle
Defense: The adept adds +3 to their Physical Defense
Bonus: The adept adds +1 to their Mystic Armor
Discipline Talent: Unflinching Fortitude

Eleventh Circle
Defense: The adept adds +1 to their Social Defense
Karma: The adept may spend a Karma Point on any unarmed Attack test once
per round.
Discipline Talent: Spirit Strike

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Twelfth Circle
Defense: The adept adds +3 to their Mystic Defense
Bonus: The adept gains +2 Recovery Tests per day.
Discipline Talent: Patient Resilience*

Master Talent Options: Aura Armor, Champion Challenge, Chilling Strike,

Elemental Walk, Ethereal Weapon, Second Chance, Soul Aegis, Vital Ward

Thirteenth Circle
Pattern Manifestation: As a Simple action for 4 Strain, the adept fully
manifests and strengthens their pattern in their body, amplifying the visible
effects from Pattern Manifestation. All attacks made with Body Control gain
one of the following keywords: Earth, Earth - Metal, Fire, Water - Cold, or Wood.
Additionally, the adept gains +3 to unarmed Attack tests, unarmed Damage
tests, Physical Armor, and Mystic Armor (this does not stack with the bonus
from Pattern Infusion).
Defense: The adept adds +4 to their Physical Defense
Karma: The adept increases their Karma +1 Step to a d8.
Bonus: The adept adds +1 to their base Initiative Step.
Discipline Talent: Stone Skin

Fourteenth Circle
Defense: The adept adds +4 to their Mystic Defense
Bonus: The adept adds +2 to their Mystic Armor.
Discipline Talent: Vicious Wound

Fifteenth Circle
Defense: The adept adds +2 to their Social Defense.
Bonus: The adept gains +3 Recovery Tests per day.
Discipline Talent: Shatter Will*

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178
 Shaman
The following account comes from "Sunshadow", a reticent human Shaman who lives
in Landig Woods. They hail from a remote village, but dislike being in closed confined spaces
and so spend most of their time isolated from it. A loner and wanderer, they are happiest
exploring the wilds. Shamans are rare and their perception of the world is often confused
with Elementalists and Nethermancers, but they are very different.

Garret, Troubadour, Scholar, Gentleman of Kaer Vallis, 1517TH

Living Between Worlds

I
am Sunshadow. That's all you should know.
Why Sunshadow? See the forest and see how the light lances through
the leaves. See the shadows in between? I am sun and shadow. I walk in
light and I hide in the shadows. Light and dark. Dark and light.
I am Sunshadow. That's all you should know.
We are not "barbarians" nor "noble savages".
Listen to my story, to my truth, scholar, and judge for yourself.

Muttering to animal spirits. Mystics. I see them wandering about the borders.

Varian, human trader of Eidolon

Learning to See
I grew up with the songs of our wolf brothers and sisters in the air. Don't
look so surprised, scholar. Animals are our companions, our kin. They are not the
mere "pets" of you town dwellers. They walk with us on the path.
A pack was friend to my village, shadowing us as we moved through the trees.
Accompanying us while we hunted. As a child, I ran with them. Played with their
pups. Howled with them at the full moon before we chased prey through the
forest. I understood their howls. They had their own language. The pack spoke
to me and I understood them. They appeared in my dreams. In the dreams, I ran
as a wolf, four-legged and sleek. The undergrowth was our shelter. The grassland

Shamans are like us in so many ways. They listen to the trees and stones,
aware of their surroundings. They see animals as their allies.

Elenial, elf Elementalist from Glenwood Deep

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was our hunting ground. I saw things too. Shimmering forms of animals and birds.
They wove around me. I was young then, amazed and awed by such beauty. I could
hear them. I could understand them.
One day, Old Hawkclaw, the Shaman of our village, summoned me to his hut
and told me I would succeed him. He would soon pass into the astral land. Time
was slipping like sand through his fingers. He wanted to teach me everything.
Without hesitation, I accepted. My life as a Shaman began.
Hawkclaw was old and wise. He taught me how to listen to the forest. How to
understand every root, plant, and tree. How to walk with the animals that make
the forest their home. They are our kin. They are family. Part of the connections.
I quickly learned every track, every paw print, every birdsong and rustle. It was
in my blood. I was the forest. I was the wolf. I was the bear. I was the raven. I was
everything.
I learned to become one with the trees, walking in the shadows, a hunting
wolf. It was then I found my Name. I am sun. I am shadow. I walk in light and
shadows. Flesh and spirit. I am both.
It makes you uncomfortable when I talk about shadows. Why? If you walk in
balance with nature with the beast spirits, you need not fear the shadows. And no,
we are not Nethermancers. I see the fear on your face. They walk with death. We
walk with life. There's a difference. Do you understand, scholar?

This old Shaman I'd met once told me once that everything is alive.
Plants. Mushrooms. Rocks. Even the root in your soup. Life, he told me, is all
interconnected. Meshed together. Fate too. I certainly didn't believe him. Not a
single bit.

Boris Stonehammer, dwarf trader and adventurer

Honoring the Past and Knowing the Land

Hawkclaw brought me on journeys where we learned the songs of the
land. Herbs, roots, berries, wild vegetables. Running deer to soaring eagles. We
administered healing to those who needed, counsel to those who wanted, and
guidance to those who desired.
The world is connected, we are just part of the whole. Imagine the stars in
the sky. We are just one of those dancing lights. "We bridge the land and the sky,"
Hawkclaw told me over the open fire. "We cannot turn our eyes away from the
land, because we are part of the land." Everything has a spirit, a life. Every living
being! They are our allies. Animals. Plants. Spirits. They are everywhere, we need
not fear them. They are part of the world and us. We are connected, joining the
threads together. We weave them fearlessly and with joy. Hawkclaw spoke frankly,
honestly. Rapt, I listened to his strong voice, learning everything.
You might think this superstition, but for Shamans it is very real. Our beings
call out to the land and the sky. Our ears listen to many voices: spirits and creatures.

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When we draw the symbols on our faces, they are not just circles or shapes. When
we cast spells and rune stones, they are not just made of stone or bone. They are
not just "spells". They contain the very essence of life. They are imbued with it.
They remind us of the life around us. The beast spirits are our companions. As I
am drawn to wolves, I could call on winter wolves to help me. A companion walks
besides me now, a white wolf with blue eyes like a winter's clear sky. Dawn is my
friend and my guide.
I was not surprised Hawkclaw had a wolf companion. A storm wolf who sat
beside him, a silver-grey presence. Hawkclaw was sickly as a child. The storm wolf
appeared one night when he battled a frightening illness of the lungs. The wolf
growled, Hawkclaw told me, and the illness fled. Such was the power of the wolf.
Hawkclaw taught me to look within. I talk about walking between light and
shadow. I learned about myself, how I straddled between worlds. I am either. I am
also neither. I grew comfortable with who I was. Even when I ran with the wolves,
I was wolf. Not male. Not female. I am also a pattern joining with other patterns,
motifs.
Hawkclaw and I had different styles of doing things. His feet were firmly
planted on earth. His patterns were of the here and now, of the solid and tangible.
I... I just wanted to keep moving. Light, shadow, constantly shifting. We had
arguments later. We disagreed. It was then I realized I had to move on. One day,
like the branches of a tree, our paths would diverge.

All Shamans love nature. We respect nature. We want balance in the land.
We find our allies around us. Some of us are drawn to animals, others groves of
sacred trees. Some of us too are drawn to other Namegivers who walk the land
with us. They are part of nature, of the patterns. To destroy it is an offence. A
violation. A pox to people who ruin it!

Morningstar Deerskin, windling Shaman

A Myriad of Perceptions
My first quest was not what I expected. It was like and unlike what I had
learned from Hawkclaw. I ran with wolves in my dreams. Yet for my quest, I flew
from my sleeping body, light as a bird in flight. Scholar, have you ever enjoyed such
freedom? The astral land spread forth before me, crisscrossed with lights. They
represented not just living creatures. They are living things with each individual
spark a pattern, a life. These living things too walk between two worlds. I was not
just wolf in the quest. I chewed cud as a mother elk heavy with young. I swam
the cold currents as a silver trout. I soared as an eagle scanning the land. I leapt
up as a fierce buck and I heard wolves howl as they ran as a pack. I recognized
them instantly, my heart pounding, because they were the pack I ran with as a
child. Now twenty strong, they pursued me relentlessly. The white wolf joined the
chase, flanking me. It was then I realized my beast spirit companion. A winter wolf

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of considerable size. Her coat the color of early snow. A protector, she calmed the
wolves and kept them at bay. We ran with the pack and frolicked on sweet grass.
As the moon rose, we howled as one. She often arrived in a flurry of snowflakes.
Yet I never felt cold nor danger around her. I gave her a name: Dawn.
Slowly, I learned the craft. Old Hawkclaw was a patient teacher. Not just seeing
the astral land. Living between worlds, straddling and crossing between them.
The astral land was not just the beautiful hunting ground of the wolves. It was
more. I saw things that might shock some. Spirits can be as mean spirited as any
living being. Hawkclaw taught me how to steel my thoughts, be firm, because beast
spirits can be capricious. Selfish and mischievous, like us, like all flesh and blood
beings. Hawkclaw said kindness was more a powerful tool than cruelty. There are
some summoners who use force. Hawkclaw despised such people. To him, they
violated the trust and balance of life itself. As Shamans, we seek balance. We walk
with beast spirits as companions. We do not break that bond, that promise.
What, scholar? Insect spirits? They are abominations. They are perversions.
All Shamans loathe them.
I learned how to dance and recognize the patterns. Every living thing has
a pattern, a certain motif. The wolf moves with its own pattern. See the trails it
weaves through the forest. They glow like a shimmering - what do you call them?
- tapestry. Seeing and knowing the patterns is part of how we cast our spells.
Shadows are part of these patterns. They are a union of light and dark.
We don't see the future as some think we do. The future can't be told. The
patterns are always shifting. We feel the vibrations, like shivers down our backs
or prickling on our necks. We catch only glimpses. We can change a little of it, shift
some threads, but that's our limit. We see life patterns, but we don't manipulate
them as a singer would with their harp. This knowledge of patterns, the walking
between light and shadow, flesh and spirit, is what gives our magic life. The
patterns are our magic. We are driven, shaped and are continuously changed by
it. The patterns form our very identity.
We are not like Elementalists. We may share the same awareness of the
world around us. We may experience the same joy of speaking to spirits. Yet,
Elementalists do not know spirits as we do. We speak with spirits, not at them.
We speak with spirits and animals, and we are them when we slip into their
consciousness, seeing through their eyes. Does an Elementalist do that? Do they
feel the rush of joy when you bound across the plains on four legs or soar in the
sky on wings? Can they walk through the forest, stealthy as a hunting cat, nose to
the ground? Can they? Do they understand the pure elation of being part of the
patterns?
Let me repeat. We don't treat spirits like servants. We don't do that. Spirits
are not our servants nor do we bind them to servitude. That's not the way of the
Shaman.

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 We are not like the Nethermancers
either. They walk the path of blood and
bone. They play with the trappings of
death. We focus on flesh and movement,
and life. Even though we share the same
gift of walking between the worlds,
Shamans celebrate life. Of the blood in
our veins. Of the air we breathe. Of the
earth we walk. Can a Nethermancer
feel the pulse of nature in the bones?
No. It's not right and it treats the spirit
like a tool, a means to an end. Like an
Elementalist, the Nethermancer binds
souls to do their bidding. Something
Shamans do not and will not do.
Dawn, my wolf companion? I know
her pattern and she knows mine. When
we walk together, our strands merge.
I am her, she is me, we are both. It's
not domination. It's such a foul word..
It's walking together. Companionship.
Trust. Consent. We trust each other.
There is no need to demonstrate power.
I walk as her, aware of the cold, immune
to it, fearless. I understand her, as a
living being, as a person. We help each
other as friends would. That's the sum
of my magic, scholar, if you are curious.
I am not saying this because I
am proud. Far from it. This is what I
am. What a Shaman is. Everyone has
a part to play in the great web. Even
Elementalists and Nethermancers. We
all have our own gifts. Every Namegiver
has their story to tell and their path to
walk. Sometimes the paths intersect.
Sometimes the paths diverge. I am sure
you understand, scholar.
I am humbled and honored to be
part of this dance of life.

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 There are many Shamans who detest cities and towns. They can't live in
them. They loathe being inside a building. Yet there are also Shamans who are
drawn to the city and consider it home. Beast spirits dwell in cities too. They thrive
in the streets and the gutters. They soar in the same sky. We love our creature
comforts, our soft warm beds and a roaring fireplace. They love sleeping under
the stars and feasting on wild roots. Me? I wouldn't eat that thing straight from
the ground. Give me hot stew over bitter woody nonsense anytime.

Rockwalker, human Shaman

Wanderer of the Land

I see you have not yet fallen asleep, scholar. Let me finish my story.
Hawkclaw is now long gone. I speak of him as a beloved teacher and mentor.
He passed quietly in his sleep. I felt him leaving, a bright light flickering like a
candle in the wind. That moment he breathed his last, I heard the cry of a hunting
hawk in the sky. In the distance, a wolf's howl broke the silence, singing a dirge to
an old friend. Sorrow filled me, tears running down my face.
I knew Hawkclaw would want me to continue as he taught me. I would wander
the land so I could learn more and help in any way I could.
With my companion by my side, I left the village, promising to return once I
did what I needed to do. The village pleaded for me to stay. I wasn't Hawkclaw. I
couldn't deny my love for the wild. I love the forest more than the village. The light
and shadows are part of me. The spirits and animals are part of me. I have nothing
to fear. You with your comfortable bed and cup of hot wine, you won't understand
the joy of fresh sweet berries in your mouth and the cold water of the river!
So I walked with shadows and the sunlight on my back. I wandered along the
rivers and streams, following their paths, living off the land. I observed things.
I became a wanderer. Oh yes, some of my village said I had wanderlust, that I
couldn't stay still. Not even sitting down, no! I wanted to walk, to run, like a wolf.
To feel the earth on my bare feet. I saw many things. The many traders who plied
through the woods and mountains. The boatmen who shouted and yelled at one
another as they navigated down rivers great and small. I even crossed the Aras
Sea. So much water and the sailors who guided their ships with wind and their
will!
There are some dangers traveling as a wandering Shaman. Not all places
are safe nor were dealings with other Namegivers always friendly. We are living
on such a diverse land! We have our own needs and demands. Sometimes, like
wrong threads, we clash instead of dance together. I fought with bandits, scaring
them away with wolf howls that echoed and echoed. Sounded as if a huge pack
surrounded us. The beast spirits protected me, snarling at them. The bandits
dropped their weapons and ran for their lives.
I fought even the invae. The perversions that lurk in the darkness. I recognize
certain patterns now. These patterns like dark sticky webs now warn me of

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danger. Dawn serves as my eyes and my ears, guarding me from further harm.
She shields me from cold, her fur warm and thick. Her bite protects me. Her howl
brings aid.
So, what am I saying? Listen to the patterns. Listen to the stories. Perhaps one
day, you will understand how connected we are.
This is my story, scholar. This is my path. Take it as you will.

GAME INFORMATION
Shamans are spellcasters who specialize in the magic of life, spirits, and
animals. They live in two worlds and can see the connections and patterns
between living beings and astral. Their relationship with spirits is different than
other spellcasters, seeing them as companions and partners. Much of their magic
focuses on their allies, who they often see as their “pack”. Shamans prefer natural
and open spaces, but some adapt to urban life.
Important Attributes: Perception, Willpower
Karma Ritual: The Shaman walks a circle, then a square within that circle
and sits in the middle. They extend their senses and calls for an appropriate beast
spirit to the area. The spirit appears outside the circle and approaches slowly,
pausing at the circle until the Shaman beckons it in. It materializes when it crosses
the square and touches the Shaman’s outstretched hands. Once permission is
given, the Shaman scratches and grooms the spirit until 30 minutes has passed
since the beginning of the ritual when it leaves the circle and departs.

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 Artisan Skills: Dancing, Tattooing
Half-Magic: These adepts may use half-magic to recognize different animals,
animal tracks, and abnormal behavior among animals and creatures. The Shaman
may make a Perception-based Half-Magic test to detect the presence of beast
spirits within 30 yards. The difficulty for detecting the beast spirit is the spirit's
Mystic Defense. If the test succeeds, the adept can sense the presence of the beast
spirit and use spells or talents, such as Spirit Hold or Spirit Talk, to communicate
and interact with it. The gamemaster can choose to make the test on behalf of the
adept at any time, as this innate sense is always active.
Shaman Talents and Abilities

Novice Talent Options: Animal Bond, Animal Training, Avoid Blow, Climbing,
Creature Analysis, Enhance Animal Companion, Navigation, Standard Matrix,
Stealthy Stride, Tracking

First Circle
Durability 3
Free Talent: Standard Matrix
Free Talent: Standard Matrix
Discipline Talents: Awareness, Patterncraft, Thread Weaving (Shamanism),
Spellcasting, Wilderness Survival

Second Circle
Defense: +1 Mystic Defense
Discipline Talent: Astral Sight

Third Circle
Karma: The adept may spend a Karma Point on a test to Summon or interact
with a spirit.
Discipline Talent: Spirit Talk

Fourth Circle
Defense: +1 Physical Defense
Discipline Talent: Danger Sense

Journeyman Talent Options: Animal Companion Durability, Animal Talk,

Anticipate Blow, Borrow Sense, Call Animal Companion, Enhanced Matrix, Safe
Path, Spirit Mount, Steel Thought, Tenacious Weave

Fifth Circle
Free Talent: One of the adept’s free Standard Matrix talents is upgraded to an
Enhanced Matrix.

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Pack Leadership: The adept performs a 30 min ritual, then Names and places a
drop of blood on up to Shamanism rank allies, marking them and taking 1 Blood
Magic Damage for each ally. The blood forms into a personal glyph of the adept
until the next sunrise which can be detected astrally.
When the adept casts a spell with the Pack keyword, they can spend 1 Strain
per target to affect up to all Named targets within the range of the spell. The adept
does not have to affect all eligible targets. The adept must pay one additional
Karma Point per target if the spell has the Binding keyword. This is one casting
of the spell, despite the number of targets affected. Using this ability replaces
the normal number of targets for the spell and extra threads cannot increase the
number of targets.
Karma: The adept may spend a Karma Point to gain the benefit of an extra
thread woven for Increased Effect on a spell with the Binding or Spirit keyword.
This does not require weaving an extra thread or count against the adept’s
limits for extra threads.
Discipline Talent: Summon (Beast Spirits)

Sixth Circle
Defense: The adept adds +2 to their Mystic Defense
Discipline Talent: Willforce

Seventh Circle
Bonus: The adept adds +1 Step to their Initiative.
Discipline Talent: Lifesight

Eighth Circle
Defense: The adept adds +3 to their Mystic Defense
Discipline Talent: Lion Heart

Warden Talent Options: Armor Mount, Armored Matrix, Banish, Blood Share,
Bloodhound Form, Dispel Magic, Eagle Eye, Hold Thread, Orbiting Spy, Tiger
Spring

Ninth Circle
Spirit Pact: The Shaman performs an eight-hour ritual which summons a
powerful Named spirit and seals a pact with the spirit in blood. Each ritual
is unique, often handed down and sometimes adapted to their personal
philosophy. Shamans typically learn the spirit’s Name from their instructor, but
others search for particular spirits. The spirit acts as the Shaman’s patron and
take their role seriously, often watching over an unbroken chain from mentors
to students. The ritual is often performed as the last step in becoming a Warden,
but may be done at any time. After the ritual, the adept takes 1 Blood Magic
Damage to seal their pact.

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 From then on, when the Shaman summons any spirit, they choose an
additional power the spirit possesses for free, and gain an additional success
when summoning and negotiating for services. Additionally, summoning Named
spirits does not require an additional success if the Shaman knows the spirit’s
Name.
As long as the Shaman is respectful and never demanding or coercive of a spirit
(including entering a Contest of Wills), the spirit generally offers better terms
in negotiations. If the adept breaks this taboo, they lose the benefits of the pact
and must perform the ritual again with the Shaman’s
Named spirit patron and atone by performing an
appropriate service for the Named pact spirit. It
can be dangerous, but shouldn’t be foolhardy
- enough to show the adept is devoted to
and honors their pact and its history, not
simply treating it as an inconvenience
when it gets in the way. If the identity of
the wronged spirit is known, the Named
spirit typically has the act performed on
behalf of said spirit.
The Named spirit is aware of the
circumstances of the broken pact through
the blood magic connection - the Shaman
can heal this damage when the pact is
broken, but this severs the relationship
and it may be difficult to find a new
patron. If the Blood Magic Damage is
carried through the new ritual, it does
not need to be paid again.
Karma: The adept may spend a Karma
Point on Recovery tests.
Discipline Talent: Summoning Circle

Tenth Circle
Defense: The adept adds +2 to their
Physical Defense
Bonus: The adept adds +1 to their Mystic
Armor.
Discipline Talent: Spirit Covenant

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Eleventh Circle
Defense: The adept adds +1 to their Social Defense.
Karma: The adept may spend a Karma Point to gain the benefit of an extra
thread woven for Increased Range on a spell with the Pack or Spirit keyword.
This does not require weaving an extra thread or count against the adept’s
limits for extra threads.
Discipline Talent: Lion Spirit

Twelfth Circle
Defense: The adept adds +4 to their Mystic Defense.
Bonus: The adept adds +2 Steps to their Initiative.
Discipline Talent: Concise Casting
Master Talent Options: Animal Leadership, Chameleon, Echolocation, Effect
Pattern, Netherwalk, Resist Pain, Shared Matrix, Unflinching Fortitude

Thirteenth Circle
Spirit Fuse: The adept performs an eight-hour ritual and summons the Named
spirit they forged a Spirit Pact with. This ritual reaffirms and expands the pact,
with a piece of the spirit’s pattern becoming part of the adept and part of the
adept’s pattern becoming part of the spirit. The adept gains an additional
success on all Binding and Spirit spells and can imbue a spell with the power of
their pact as a Free action for 1 Strain, adding the Spirit keyword.
Defense: The adept adds +3 to their Physical Defense
Karma: The adept increases their Karma +1 Step to a d8.
Bonus: The adept gains +1 Recovery Test per day.
Discipline Talent: Ancient Bonds

Fourteenth Circle
Defense: The adept adds +5 to their Mystic Defense
Bonus: The adept adds +2 to their Mystic Armor.
Discipline Talent: Soul Aegis

Fifteenth Circle
Defense: The adept adds +2 to their Social Defense.
Bonus: The adept adds +3 Steps to their Initiative.
Discipline Talent: Spliced Weave

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