The Maps of Myrist: The
The Bastion of Thunder is located in the Plane of Storms, hovering within an immense volcanic mountain that rises above the silver blanket of perpetual storm that coats the land below. The highest reaches of the snow-covered fortress disappear into the gray ether of upper stratospheric storms.
The bastion can be reached from the base of the mountain, through caves and tunnels that guide one up through the mountain core. Inside, the mountain is hollow, extending deep beneath what can only be assumed is the Plane of Storm's surface. A vortex of air and debris spins within the hollow core, creating an eternal windstorm. The inner walls of the mountain are at the mercy of the maelstrom of debris, and though battered, somehow maintain their integrity. The energy generated by this vortex is used to keep the Bastion of Thunder suspended in the middle of the great cylindrical mountain.
The bastion appears to be a natural construction made of stone, its surface blasted perfectly smooth by the endless current of sand and rock particles driven by the astral winds. The tower in the center of the fortress looks as if it were made of a tree or some other vegetation that has been reshaped in an ingenious manner.
A light from one of the upper turrets indicates the location of the old hermit. It is there that Karana is thought to be sleeping.
Many planar creatures – servants of the realm and servants directly under the divine master himself – are plentiful throughout the bastion, maintaining the chaos that is erupting all around them. Among these amazing, odd creatures is a species comparable to the giants of Norrath, though unlike the latter, they are not a creation of The Warlord. The Taarid, Satuur, Kuraaln, and Volaas are each avatar embodiments of a particular meteorological element. Their task is to conduct storm systems of all environmental classifications. Ranging from the scorching dust and sand storms of the desert to the calm, cool drizzle of a temperate spring rain, these avatars exist as representations of the elemental phenomena they embody in both appearance and temperament.
The giants, though chaotic, are not hateful. Any aggression they show toward the mortal trespassers of this divine plane arises not out of spite, but from their duty to maintain the chaos that has enveloped the plane while Karana has been asleep.
As would be expected, the bastion itself, being subject to the giants' chaotic endeavors, is in a perpetual state of disarray. Most of the furniture has been destroyed and much of the walls and floors are covered with water, blackened char marks, broken stones and torn tapestries. The once immaculate towers have fallen into disrepair without the governing balance of The Rainkeeper.
Reigning Deity
Karana, The Rainkeeper
In his physical manifestation, The Rainkeeper appears to be an elderly human with a slow step, a small limp, and slightly hunched over a gnarled staff of oak. His beard and hair are long and white, draping down over his plain brown robe. His knowing blue eyes are hazed, like oceanic globes eternally shrouded in the silvery blanket of the storm. His gaunt, almost gray flesh is haggard and wrinkled – revealing age almost timeless in its depth. Wise beyond comprehension and profoundly meditative, Karana, The Rainkeeper is the consciousness and embodiment of the Plane of Storms.
Coherent, calm, and almost docile – within reason – Karana's consciousness brings about a very pleasant, inhabitable nature to his realm. Rainfall is gentle and steady; delicate zephyrs softly wash across the plane like warmed silk against the flesh; silvery veils of fog beautifully roll down the mountainsides and hover within the deep valleys.
However, like old mortals of the prime, he is weary and requires rest – oftentimes falling into seemingly timeless bouts of slumber, lost to a bottomless fountain of thought. It is during these meditative slumbers that the chaos of weather is borne and the cycle is fulfilled. Storms rage in freezing maelstroms of ice and heavy, bitter rain that stings like the bite of a rabid beast; winds roar like the bellowing voice of a madman, toppling the mightiest of oaks or the sturdiest of stone towers; the swirling fog grows dense and impenetrable, leading many to their deaths in the great chasms and valleys below.
Today, as the mortals breach the barrier of the astral realms, The Rainkeeper slumbers. Unfortunate would-be heroes who enters Karana's domain will only find boundless chaos and nature's merciless wrath.