Four Doors
Four Doors

Four Doors

Four Doors

Realm of Svantovit of the Slavic Pantheon

Location: Outlands / Ringlands

The Four Doors is a well-fortified realm nestled snug near the Chronepseum in the Outlands. Now, that’s a place with a tale or two to tell, and all of them from the future. It ain’t no modest shrine or hidden alcove; we’re talkin’ about a massive temple compound, so big it’d make your eyes water.

The whole temple-burg is wrapped up in a wooden stockade, which towers scores of feet high. It’s not your average picket fence, but a formidable barrier that screams, “Keep your bone-box shut and tread light.” It’s like a fortress, standing stoic against whatever the multiverse decides to chuck its way. And given some of the neighbouring realms—Gzemnid’s beholders, Ilsensine’s illithids—that’s perhaps a good shout.

Inside, there’s this colossal wooden idol of Svantovit, dominating the place. It ain’t just for show—this is where the power communes with his proxies and petitioners. It’s said the idol’s more than just wood and craft; it’s like it’s alive, brimming with Svantovit’s essence. And when it speaks, you best listen, ’cause the deep rumbling words ain’t just wind.

Now petitioners here, they’re a rum bunch, mostly soothsayers and diviners, all steeped in the art of seeing what’s yet to come. Yes cutter, imagine what a burg is like where almost every berk is a soothsayer! They spend their days and nights unraveling the threads of the future, peering into the murky waters of what’s to be. It’s like they’ve got one foot in tomorrow, and the other foot in the day after, always seeking the dark of what’s around the corner.

But—and there’s always a but, ain’t there?—while Four Doors is a beacon for those seeking insights and predictions, it’s not all hunky-dory. Delving into the future, that’s a risky game. Some of these bashers get so tangled in what they see, they lose the plot of the here and now. There’s also the ever-present risk that some other high-ups who don’t like berks meddling in the future might take offence. Every so often a soothsayer goes missing, and all the others start pointing their dowsing rods at the Norns or Chronepsis, or some other blood with a vested interest in keeping the future dark.

But perhaps lucky for the soothsayers, that wooden idol, while it’s a sight to behold, can be more cryptic as a sphinx. The advice and prophecies it dishes out? They’re not always as clear-cut as you’d like.

Source: Alex Roberts, Jon Winter-Holt

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