Chapter One: The Star and the Sylvan Sea
Posted: Wed Mar 11, 2015 7:25 am
On winter's solstice during the Yuletide an event happened which few at the time remarked. Far overhead a flaming star streaked across the night sky.
A Saexen farmer saw it first as he wended his way home from the tavern tankard in hand. Raising his tankard in cheery greeting he continued to his warm bed. On it roared across the sky as it flamed like some dragon of old.
In Laeon they saw it, in their stone castles dotting the countryside and in Yiren too where it was taken for a bane-sidhe by the sound it made.
The Halfling folk of Kenten thought it a firework given by Ei, god of fire.
What the Orcs on Gothrak thought no one knew or cared to ask.
Too low in the sky for the gnomes of Gwyln to see they heard a hissing only and were, thereby, perhaps the first to mark the event with foreboding.
In Dwarvenholme the dwarves looked speculatively at the flaming star as they well knew the quality of iron it perhaps had and their palms tingled.
In Meylond they neither saw nor heard the star but to the north in Avelyon the elves saw it and a shadow fell on their hearts as they saw it plummet into the eye of the Great Maelstrom.
In Scandenland and Angland they saw it too but briefly only as it passed from sight and into the sea.
For a time after the Great Maelstrom swallowed the star nothing happened but then, at the spring equinox, seafarers began to bring tales to the ports of the world of a mist rising over the Dragon Isles. Few listened at first, giving it no more heed than they would tales of sea monsters and mermaids.
The stories persisted however and grew more alarming for though the mist seemed just a mist by the time of the autumn equinox it covered the whole of the Great Maelstrom, the Dragon Isles, and the ruined lands of the Old Wraithen Empire.
It has even begun to lap at the eastern shores of Angland and to explore the mountain ridges there. In the north the mists have begun to flow through the straights between Angland and Scandenland and down to the edges of Caerton. Where the mists go silence follows.
It is Yuletide once again and you find yourselves aboard the good ship Sylvan Sea captained by one Harylth Galway. It is night and the common room below deck is lit by a single lantern. About the remains of dinner our story begins. The Captain sits back expansively in his chair at the head of the table while you and your comrades, sharing the table with him, sit round it too...
A Saexen farmer saw it first as he wended his way home from the tavern tankard in hand. Raising his tankard in cheery greeting he continued to his warm bed. On it roared across the sky as it flamed like some dragon of old.
In Laeon they saw it, in their stone castles dotting the countryside and in Yiren too where it was taken for a bane-sidhe by the sound it made.
The Halfling folk of Kenten thought it a firework given by Ei, god of fire.
What the Orcs on Gothrak thought no one knew or cared to ask.
Too low in the sky for the gnomes of Gwyln to see they heard a hissing only and were, thereby, perhaps the first to mark the event with foreboding.
In Dwarvenholme the dwarves looked speculatively at the flaming star as they well knew the quality of iron it perhaps had and their palms tingled.
In Meylond they neither saw nor heard the star but to the north in Avelyon the elves saw it and a shadow fell on their hearts as they saw it plummet into the eye of the Great Maelstrom.
In Scandenland and Angland they saw it too but briefly only as it passed from sight and into the sea.
For a time after the Great Maelstrom swallowed the star nothing happened but then, at the spring equinox, seafarers began to bring tales to the ports of the world of a mist rising over the Dragon Isles. Few listened at first, giving it no more heed than they would tales of sea monsters and mermaids.
The stories persisted however and grew more alarming for though the mist seemed just a mist by the time of the autumn equinox it covered the whole of the Great Maelstrom, the Dragon Isles, and the ruined lands of the Old Wraithen Empire.
It has even begun to lap at the eastern shores of Angland and to explore the mountain ridges there. In the north the mists have begun to flow through the straights between Angland and Scandenland and down to the edges of Caerton. Where the mists go silence follows.
It is Yuletide once again and you find yourselves aboard the good ship Sylvan Sea captained by one Harylth Galway. It is night and the common room below deck is lit by a single lantern. About the remains of dinner our story begins. The Captain sits back expansively in his chair at the head of the table while you and your comrades, sharing the table with him, sit round it too...