Agnarr the Storm Lord

A sleeping god

The Plane of Storms is the consciousness of Karana, the Rainkeeper, governed and made manifest by his will. As Karana meditated, he slid deeper and deeper into the dark of his own mind. Out of the swirl of his memory came a pair of eyes, a nose and a great white beard. A huge face laughed, rose up and swallowed his consciousness, leaving only the sneering face of Agnarr.

What Agnarr is

Agnarr is a semi-physical embodiment of the raging, uncontrollable storm. Every storm, natural or otherworldly, is part of him, and he can raise and command any kind. He stands for the chaos and doubt that had troubled Karana even in sleep, and the will that animates him is the same force that has kept Karana asleep so long.

Mount Grenidor

He rules from the Bastion of Thunder, which hovers inside an immense volcanic mountain, Mount Grenidor, above a “silver blanket of perpetual storm,” its snowy upper reaches lost in the storms above. Storm giants live almost everywhere else in the plane. Impassable ridges run down from the mountain’s peaks and split the rest of the plane into three regions, and the giants’ tribes are always at war with one another, their bodies and homes shaped by the land they live in.

Desert, forest and lake

To the north lies Krendic, the Desert of Chaos: dark brown stone polished smooth by endless wind, with rock obelisks, scraggly cactus-like plants, a storm giant tent camp, and an old circle of standing stones in the east. To the west is Renidar, the Forest of Tears, whose huge branches form bridges big enough for giants. Its trees vanish into fog above and below, stormriders live in the canopy, and near an enormous stump storm-wrecked trees lie in chaotic heaps. Across the plains, rivers run down from the mountain to a great lake, with shipwrecks on its southern shore and a giant settlement on stilt-piers along its northern shore, where one ornate house marks the leader’s residence.

The exile on the shore

Without Karana keeping the balance, the plane came apart. In less than a month the storm giants wrecked nearly all of the Bastion’s furniture and tapestries. Lightning set the forest of Calidor ablaze, and only the downpours that followed saved it. The stormriders hid deeper in their woods.

Askr had been the Rainkeeper’s servant. Now he sat in a rocky hollow by the shores of Larquin, an outcast in the waterlogged southern caves, wearing a golden medallion that he knew was somehow the key to rebalancing the storms. He was afraid to go back into the Bastion, and he felt he had failed his master in a way he could not even name. If Agnarr were banished, Askr might be able to wake the Rainkeeper.

Askr in his cave

In person Askr the Lost is less dignified than his story. He points drunkenly at the cave exit and complains about “the foul denizens of destruction outside… pillaging, plundering,” says he is lucky to have survived and that nobody can stop them, and that is why he is still stuck there with his potions.