
I really loved Adventure but I wanted to go through space so once once I'm done adding fantasy stuff I will make a giant update that would just be map that space stuff new races for outer space spells I do have to do that somewhere in like a month or two but I might have to take a small Hiatus for a little bit
Played | 12 times |
Cloned | 0 times |
Created | 21 days ago |
Last Updated | 8 days ago |
Visibility | Public |

Coordinates | (478, -1917) |
Tucked within a hushed corner of Baldur’s Gate’s Lower City, the Shrine of the Suffering honors Ilmater, the Crying God of endurance, compassion, and martyrdom. The shrine serves as a spiritual and physical refuge for the city’s destitute, offering food, shelter, and healing without judgment. Brother Hodges, a devoted strongheart halfling priest, oversees the shrine alongside his adult children Hansen and Sissa. Their constant presence—dispensing coppers for ferry tolls, bandaging wounds, or simply listening—has earned them deep reverence from the city's struggling masses. Though humble in construction, the shrine is quietly sustained by anonymous donations from nobles, merchants, and common folk alike, all united by a shared belief in Ilmater’s mercy. Amid Baldur’s Gate’s greed and violence, the shrine remains a rare sanctuary of selfless grace.
The shrine is a squat structure of weatherworn stone, its rough façade cracked but lovingly scrubbed clean. A modest symbol of bound hands—Ilmater’s holy emblem—is carved above its low archway, faded by time but still legible in the flickering lanternlight. The surrounding square is crowded with threadbare blankets, cookfires in makeshift braziers, and the quiet murmurs of those sheltering beneath the open sky. The air smells faintly of broth, smoke, and damp wool. Within the shrine’s open interior, a worn wooden altar is flanked by rows of simple benches and chipped votive candles. Brother Hodges, broad-smiled and gentle-eyed, moves with surprising energy, while Hansen hauls a soup pot and Sissa tends a sick child by the altar. Warmth lingers here—not from hearth or sun, but from compassion incarnate.