Tuatha

Tuatha Dé Dúlra (The People of the Land)

Summary

Founded in the distant past, before Sundren's establishment of a nation, the Tuatha de Dula follow in the steps of their ancient teachers in their quest to understand, repair and nurture the mystical underpinnings of the land they have grown to love. Although all are welcome to participate in the fellowship, few are trusted with the deepest secrets of the Tuatha, sacred mysteries that the wisest of druids, shamans and sages still seek to unravel.

Individual outlooks among the Tuatha vary, from the cool indifference of some Sylvanites to the crusader-like fervor of Mielikki's Forestarms to the fascination with the destructive phase of the cycle that compels some members to chase after the likes of Talos and Umberlee. Yet a single sacred calling unites them: the land of Sundren is a focal point on the face of Chauntea, its ley-lines thrumming with sacred power since corrupted. It must be healthy and whole. Anything that corrupts the cycles that keep it so must be neutralized and given to the land to reclaim. On this, there can be no compromise.

Origin/History

The name Sundren came in with Mundus and his Thayan counterparts, but the land itself existed long before its discovery and exploitation. Even before the orcs and gnolls built their savage civilization, say some, another people roamed the land. Their footsteps carved the vales; their sleeping-places formed caves cut deep into the earth, and swales where forests could grow strong and tall. These people are the Tuatha Siúd a Bhí, and legend says it is they who seeded the virgin forests that would become the Mossdale and Viridale. They, whose touch infused the land with magic. They, who lifted a few feral humanoids out of ignorance and first taught the ways of the shaman.

Scholars tend to scoff at these myths, and until recently evidence has been scant. However, as the Year of Wild Magic passed and the Valley's most drawn-out period of upheaval began, one truth became clear: this slice of ground nestled between the mountains of the Spine was something exceptional. Its forests grew taller and thicker than the soil should permit. Its farmland, small in area, could still feed a nation when free of disease. Its mountains held deep veins of adamantine and mithril, the rarest of metals, and a new wonder unique to the Valley. The settlers called it Sundrite, and it would one day cause the city of Sundren to take flight like the Netherese citadels of old. But how had all this come to be?

The surviving teachings of the Tuatha Siúd a Bhí, passed word-for-word from generation to generation, tell of gleaming lines of power obvious to all who can See, points where Mystra's Weave and Chauntea's body cross and exist in harmony. These ley lines are a symptom and a symbol of Sundren's inherently magical nature, say the teachings, and can make the land a wondrous place for plant, beast and man. But these teachings also warn of the potential for abuse, and of the symptoms – storms that rage without ending, groans and shudders from within the earth, the wilting and corruption of wildlife. Signs that the land is badly sick.

So the Tuatha passed these teachings, and existed in quiet harmony with the Valley, even as settlers built their first cities. When the Bloodmaim waged their first war, slaying the three Harbingers at the Shaharan Hills, the Tuatha watched. When Icewind Dale shuddered at the touch of corrupt magics, the Tuatha send some of their own to the resulting conclave, advised patience, and watched. When the Coterie stole Genum's Cube, and the forces of darkness unleashed a captive avatar of Shar, the Tuatha shifted ley lines away from the chaos and watched. When the Necropolis seethed with undead, when a good man fell to another and when the Lord of Bones was finally reborn, the Tuatha watched. And even when the city of Sundren tore itself from the land to escape certain doom at the hands of the Bloodmaim host, the Tuatha salvaged what they could of broken and wilted ley lines, and watched.

It was, however, the events of the Second Sundering that would eventually prove to the Blessed that there was no more room for the patience of the elder ones. Without action, overt and deliberate, the corruption of the ley lines would continue, the land would fester with sickness and blood-curses, and all they had sworn to protect would decay, die and rise anew as a parody of itself. Chauntea Herself could be threatened by the corruption of such a focal point of magic and life.

The first point of awakening came with the demise of the Grove. Although the Tuatha had watched and approved of the Keeper's activities, and those of the Faerie Queen and her court, and even those like Stormheart and the Son of Storms – the fall of the Grove was a shock. Virulent plague swept what had once been their most powerful and stable line of power off the map, and replaced it with pulsing vileness that began to corrupt the forest for miles around. The Tuatha acted in secret to contain the damage, yet there was no denying this had been a loss for them.

More importantly, however, the rise of Sundren City was not without cost, a cost unseen to most of city's shining knights and soldiers. Like a hammer striking a plate of pottery, the expulsion of arcane power twisted and severed many important connections that had given the land its life. Grimly, the Tuatha surveyed the land where the city had risen, and found no signs of life. Where reclamation should have taken over, the first stages coaxing weeds and tiny rodents to live, there was only blackness and the lingering sensation of brokenness. The Second Sundering had earned its name.

Even in revelation, the Tuatha acted with the caution of their ancient teachers. Small supply dumps grew into larger ones; informants settled into new cities and took up normal jobs; the Awakened creatures that patrolled the forests shifted to new territories, away from feral and half-mad fellows that would attack anything that moved. And for the first time in generations, the Tuatha would reach out beyond their own circles to court the young, the impetuous, the wanderers and adventurers. The time for silent watching had passed; the time for action had come.

Objectives

All else dims in comparison to the struggle for Sundren's soul. If the Black Hand were to stop threatening the health of the land, to stop corrupting the ley-lines, the Tuatha would gladly step aside and let them dominate the cities of Sundren. If the Exigo would cease plundering without regard to the sustainability of their actions, and listen to the wisdom of the Tuatha, they might even be counted as allies. However, at present, the Exigo are viewed with cool hostility by the Tuatha, as are their Thayan counterparts. The Black Hand earns enmity much worse – the activities of the new Blood God's vampires and the presence of the Citadel of the Seven on the largest focus of ley-lines in the entire valley earns them a quiet loathing from the Tuatha. Individual reaction may vary, but as long as the health of the Valley is threatened, the Tuatha will rarely see these factions as anything but enemies.

A necessary part of maintaining the Valley, beyond returning those that sicken it to the earth or to dust, is educating those that remain. Here, individual attitudes vary even more dramatically. Some see the settlers of Sundren, and even of Icewind Dale, as a malign influence that deserves to be chased out. Others cherish the lives and works of the good races, claiming that these can be valuable parts of the natural cycle – that cities are hives for humans, and a good city is a blessing to the land instead of a curse.

Ranks

Acolyte
Spéir
Talamh
Seer
Fáidh
Blessed of the Siúd
The Airgetlam

Base of Operations

The Tuatha view the centralized nature of the old Grove as a weakness, rather than a strength. It permitted a single stroke to demolish all organized activity on the part of nature's children for more than a year, and in the process created a great and threatening corruption. Thus, the Tuatha operate in small packs, or even in solitude. They are rarely found far away from a convergence of ley-lines, however; these places are not only sacred to the Tuatha, but important to sensing the health of the land. Shrines at these points, as well as nearby allied temples, offer shelter and supply to their more overt members.

Leadership

Avara the Blessed:

One of the oldest Tuatha, second only to the passed Palindras, Avara has seen the valley's growth in its entirety. Some among the Tuatha even say that she knew Mundus when he first came to the valley, and brokered a truce with his Hands. No one is exactly sure how old she is, but she has been the firm roots of the Tuatha since their beginning, and is the current Airgetlam. She teaches with wisdom and patience, and has insight into the ley that is surpassed by none.

Greagrios Whiteflame:

A former warrior of Silvanus, Greagrios is one of the younger Tuatha to lead. He has forged himself willpower over a lifetime of training, meditation, and battle against the corruption of the ley, and is the leading energy behind its health. He is knowledgeable about a great deal of lore behind the Tuatha, but guards it sternly if the acolyte is too easy-going and relaxed. If the Tuatha had a battle commander, it would be him, as he lead the fight against the forces of corruption and darkness.

Unfortunately, this aged warrior of the Tuatha fell in the heart of the Black Citadel, pushing his apprentices forward to destroy the Nexus heart that beat within.

Julandias:

A peaceful man, known for his large oaken frame, Julandias has been called the most peaceful and the most temperate of the Tuatha. A former follower of Eldath, the goddess of quiet places, he cares for the land's health and life more in the traditional role of a druid.