Ages ago, men and elves built great ships and sailed away from Mareldja
seeking a new place to settle and call home.  Eventually they came to
populate a small corner of another large continent and founded the city of
J'rel.  Little is spoken of the time before they landed and founded the
city, but there is in fact much to tell.  Before the sailors ever laid eyes
on the J'relian continent, they made landfall on a picturesque island all
alone, uncharted in the middle of the ocean.  There was a sheltered harbor
with a wonderfully deep draw that could accommodate even the largest
seagoing vessels, and much fertile land.  And though clearly the result of
volcanic activity, the steep sloped mount at the heart of the isle appeared
to be slumbering peacefully.  For a time all was well and the people
prospered, but as the inhabitants came to explore more of their new home,
they stumbled across something that nearly brought about their complete
demise.  Locked up deep inside the dormant volcano was a portal to some
tartaric realm unnamed in history.  At first it too seemed dormant, but
such was not the case.  Evil things began to slip from the portal.  Fell,
insidious creatures coming with promises of power and wealth.  Most were
aghast with the shrouded daemons, and the people were enslaved, though more
than a few went willingly into the clutches of darkness and were given the
dark gift of vampirism and taught the arts of necromancy and assassination.
For years the people were subjugated, though in time their masters grew
somewhat careless and a plot was hatched to escape the island, but that is
a tale in itself, and best told another time.
   The people rejoiced at their freedom, but some few had grown accustomed
to their bondage and had in fact made well for themselves by catering to
the whims of their cruel masters.  After the founding of the city of J'rel,
some years later, many of these malcontents were displeased with the
hardships of frontier life, and they attempted a revolt, commandeering a
ship and making a run for the mouth of the bay, but she ran aground on a
reef and was scuttled before making open water.  The rebels were rescued
from the sinking ship, but refused passage back into the city.  They were
banished forever, and slunk away, making their home deep in the blackest
part of the Great Ancestral Swamp.  Recently explorers stumbled  across
their temple, a great red ziggurat, hidden within the swamp.  Reports are
sketchy and information is very scant, as the cultists do not look kindly
upon visitors.  Or anyone else, for that matter.


    Recommended Levels: 13-17
    Group Size: 2+

  This is not a nice place folks, but the rewards are great.  Keep your wits
about you, watch your step and most importantly read everything.