Fantasy Guild of Heroes: Recall Protocol - Lore

[Birdsie]

A thread for lore-keeping. All lore/setting details created through group effort or personal invention - which may become relevant to the plot - should be stored here, in these archives.

A few basic rules/guidelines for this section:
- Do not clutter up your posts with extremely large images.
- If possible, use accordions, tabs, or spoilers, as doing otherwise takes up a lot of page space. It's efficient to compartmentalize - it makes it much easier to find what you're looking for.
- Do not use too much colored text for any of the posts here; it can be a strain on the eyes. It's much better to simply write in a clear and cohesive manner, and divide the text into sections.
- As always, one idea per paragraph is optimal for clear readability.

---

Civilized Nations of the World (major/relevant)

Albion

The Kingdom of Albion is the global superpower located to the west of the Gaelian continent.

Until recently, it prided itself on being one of the oldest sovereign powers in the world, never conquered and never cowed.

However, five years ago, a man known as Kyro Script formed an alliance with the Archlich Turenval. Turenval banished the vast majority of the Guild of Heroes into the Void Dimension, while Script dealt with the rest of the royalty, then made an example of the Royal Knights. At the end of it, Kyro Script seized power from the empty throne, crowning himself Overlord.

Now, the Script family arises in glory and rules. And its most powerful scion to date is the emergent master of this superpower. There is no resistance against his word - and if he calls for his Court Enchanter then know you shall be undone.

Script's rule borders the state of an absolute monarchy, but it has introduced several genuine improvements as well; taxes have been lowered for the commoners, and the peasants have more rights in general. The Overlord is harsh but fair, and his presence improved trade and relations with Albion's neighbors; Overlord Script also founded several organizations that keep the corrupt nobles and reckless archmages in check. In that sense, he is a tyrant, but also a stabilizing influence.

Aesthetically and superficially, Albion resembles the rustic picture of a magical England in the midst of its medieval years. There are knights clad in lively heraldries, scaled green drakes prowling the mountainous regions, towers whose sole inhabitants are barmy marble druids, and the military power of the Kingdom is concentrated in its almighty fleets, both naval and airfaring. However, there are anachronistic elements, such as the relative commonality of gunpowder, alchemical synthesis of purple dye, and import of cultural elements from other, distant worlds, such as pop-culture magazines or basic technologies, like the radio or the television (however, only the wealthy can afford them.)

Espania

Espania is the second major superpower. It is Albion's eastern neighbor, separated from it by several rivers and forests, as well as a long and treacherous mountain range that is infamous for its monstrous inhabitants, as well as the tribe of Storm Giants that lives there.

On the surface, Espania is much less controlling of its people than Albion had ever been, considered by many to be a cosmopolitan nation whose rulers are genuinely concerned with liberty and tolerance. The royalty has always supported those as the codewords of their state.

However, beneath the surface, the ugly truth dwells. Espania's kings and councils are puppets living in the shadow of the hidden masters, the Order of the Golden Campaña, once known as the noble Ainarja. The Order's secret mission is to protect the Espanian national interests, but it has strayed from its roots and now works primarily for the self-benefit of its members. It uses mentalism and hypnotic spellwork to subtly influence the actions of all of the Espanian authorities from the ground to the very top, including some of its greatest adventurers. There are memory removals, brainwashing sessions, and brutal interrogations: there is no conflict or corruption in Espania, these walls are safe.

There is a resistance hidden in the shadows, but its members are unprepared, weak, and fearful of the Order's power. The Guild cannot protect them anymore. Espania is a nation desperately clinging onto old glories while going through a mid-life crisis. Its alabaster-bricked cities are well-maintained and mask their extensive criminal underworld with a flimsy shell of positivity and tourist attractions. Its citizens put on a veneer of cheery happiness, both for themselves, the tourists, and the authorities who keep a watchful eye to ensure that everything is in check. It's very much the paradise it was advertised to be... until one looks too deep, or too hard.

Stockade

The Stockade of Irons is a free trading republic, founded by the hand of Archwizard Ygrasmundhil only five decades ago to the north of the Espanian border. Most of its lands also surround the tower belonging to that same wizard in a single metropolitan area constructed primarily from stone and metal, giving it its name.

Although much smaller than a vast majority of the nations in the world, the Stockade's laws and magical protection ensure that it stays as relevant on the international scene. It is among the most permissible in terms of tax, import, and travel, and in a strategically advantageous location upon the leylines. These combined traits are the masterful recipe for an epic trading country; the bottleneck through which an incredibly vast amount of the world's economy goes through at one point or another. One could even go so far as to call it the melting pot of modern civilization.

Due to the fame of its founder, the Stockade had started drawing in attention from other planes, so it is currently something of a xenocratic state, with countless monsters, outsiders, spirits, celestials, and even infernals living within the borders as legalized citizens. As strange as it might be, the average human or elf has very little space or power to participate in the Stockade Council elections, or even to vote for a candidate. Likewise, the average citizen either considers a human to be a weak, detestable beast to be pitied and condescended to, or a crunchy snack...

The Stockade is also, on a pure technicality, the largest spaceport on Melicau, and sees the largest import in off-world goods, such as rare and precious otherworld technology, alien magic, or interesting foreign currency. The question is whether the average citizen would be able to afford such things, or if they'd be legally enslaved for being unable to pay their rent.

Mokushu

The island provinces of Mokushu lie southeast of Thrymheim, and the Mokushujin people prefer an isolated lifestyle. Closed to most outsiders, save for a few trading vessels, Mokushu is a relatively under-developed country but has managed a stable empire for almost two millennia. Due to their lack of most raw materials, including iron and salt, the Mokushujin typically use force to acquire materials from other nearby provinces.

The Mokushujin capital, Chon'Sin, has been widely regarded as one of the best vacation spots currently existing. The people host many celebrations and feature enormous firework displays on New Year's Eve. There have been many different dynasties to try and unify all of Mokushu, the longest of which is the Ji Dynasty, lasting close to five centuries. Other notable dynasties include the Shu, Han, and Kori.

Despite more common rumors of a weak government, the Saito family, current Rulers of Mokushu, are very strict. A curfew is regularly held every evening, during which law enforcement officials seek out violations and burglary, often arresting innocent people based on a neighbor's accusations. There is little freedom of speech, and most, if not all, businesses are run by corrupt officials.

Mokushu also has a long history of training fantastic swordsmen. Notable examples include Tadashi the Bold, Temujin Hokari, Osata Nitakura, and many others.

Rivannes

The Empire of Rivannes lies to the east of Espania and is, presently, the largest of the known nations in the world (on Melicau, at least.) The Empire is an expansionist domain feared and known for its monumental ground army counting almost a million trained soldiers in number, with another near-million of levies in reserve.

A few decades ago, the Empire - then a kingdom - experienced a series of interesting events, including its king becoming a genocidal maniac and puppet of an ancient deity, dying, and then being replaced by another, resurrected ancient deity that slew the first one. Followed by many other, strange happenings. All of these events were stopped by a group of heroes who had nothing to do with the Guild.

After the passage of several decades, Rivannes is hardly as xenophobic as it used to be. Although it remains strong, powerful, broad, and expansive, its current Emperor sees fit to remain a neutral voice on the international stage, directing his nation mostly towards the bulk production of useful goods for sale to Albion, the Stockade, or anyone who'll buy them..

Others

A dime-a-dozen minor nations that sprawl around the others mentioned above: the freedom-loving republic of Laurellia to the north of Albion, the pious elven city of Leceth to the west, and the frosted barbaric land of Thrymheim to the far north, much beyond the edges of the usual maps afforded to casual travelers. Among these are a baker's dozen of other countries: kingdoms, principalities, fiefdoms, city-states, faerie freeholds, spirit sanctums, and other locations. Feel more than free to invent as you please.

Maps

Spoiler: Normal Map

Spoiler: Political Map

Red = Albion
Cyan = Laurellia
Dark Gray = Stockade
Yellow-ish = Espania
Pink = Rivannes

 

[June Verles]

Sasha Korneev's Diary


Hidden in the most secure part of her pocket dimension where she stores her equipment, locked in a box with a 20 character long combination lock compromised of all the letters in the english alphabet plus 0-9, or otherwise 13367494538843734067838845976576 possible combinations, which change hourly, is the operative's most treasured possessions she has kept with her since before becoming a hero and escaping from her family.

That's right, her hello kitty branded diaries. This post will hold entries from the diary and will be periodically updated as Sasha writes about events in her life.

Spoiler: Entry No. 1

Spoiler: Entry No. 2

 

[lil_kreen]

Spoiler: Gardener prehistory

A breeze came in from an open window near the bar facing away from the road though with a scent of fresh earth and grass. As the other Hero's story finished a few coins sailed through the air with a flash of red. A surprised bartender flails to catch a bouncing coin but drops the first. The second and third are easier to catch once he regains some focus. Next to it added an empty glass with a slow fluid that clung to its sides raised to the windowsill by short blood-colored fingers that then retreated. Then a small box was placed beside it with the clink of a small kickstand.

Out from that box rings out a voice of smooth tones, "If you want a tale I've arrived with one not long ago, Sir. A refill of vegetable oil please, bartender, I am still lean."

Through faint munching below the window a voice from that box continued unabated and breathless.

---

Within the days the High Matriarch still remembers of our earliest times there was war. Bvetin was a young seeker an epoch season ago though no less capable than her peers. A gestalt mind of many powers rather than one a rarity that saved our people. In this, a wider impulsive directive from her Matriarch but unlike her other fellow seekers found it mad. Ramblings and wrath among orders of incontinent colors cause violent interpretation instead of understanding. The Matriarch's children confused, untrained, and impulsive, struck at everything that threatened them. A blood war unending and fierce. Matriarchs raged storms of sky and earth to immolate helpless children. Mountains lifted and crushed to grind what tried to hide from madness within. Their collective hunger depleted the soil as much as a contagion there even as countless warriors fed it with corpses and blood. Each set to defend their Matriarch set at each other to stain the soil."

"As her mind grew her peers did as well but found them sickly and disturbed workers clear but empty. A grey menace picked at their minds and crept across itching flesh. Seekers itching themselves and barking color with white noise cultivated in the palettes in their minds. Workers among them afflicted but made clean by her right searched for high soldiers as herself pure. Still, her field was too small and unworked a canvas to contain any such deranged seeds of color. Yet the High Matriarch could make true wisdom for the untithed following Bvetin.

Thus the first high soldiers were given the tiniest seed of wisdom set to create for her food than capture it. As a canvas to paint a will of her own began to grow more ever-loyal children flock desperately for the only light of wisdom. Wisdom in her peers had long since grown into a pestilent weed instead. A grey not of their own colors poisoning the wisdom at the center of our people. Tired but unfailing efforts slowly cleanse those first untithed to join them into her power by choice.

With Bvetin entering her brooding phase toward the end of that age began an assault directly on the noise using that boundless color of a gestalt. Direct children of her own a growing immunity to poisonous crawling noise. High soldiers to paint over endless ruined earth sparking the disease upon their canvas. The first apostate Matriarch lost, the canvas of her mind broken and dirtied beyond repair, was the second to have a name from those smallest of seeds. Something in unison to mourn the loss for her children to see of themselves from without.

In the light of her vivid canvas, Bvetin learned the truth as the apostate Matriarch's mind faded away. A pattern of thought revealed by a beleaguered and dying garden's noise fading to dust. Chains hungering to shape the seed of wisdom within the Matriarchy by constraint. Each trying to spread shackles around the breadth of the Matriarchs' explosions of color. Overextension to breach the bonds thus not submit the gray the Matriarchs would strain at the chains. It drove them mad but would not kneel. In Bvetin, these chains sundered, the itching matter torn apart in consumption. A solitary enemy apart from the Matriarchy now known as the first hive of hives saw its enemy in the tools of defilers.

The Defilers proved lethargic as Her garden grew to add ever more color. Our world was large, their strength broad, but their awareness was small so Bvetin could hide when she found their fell eye upon them. A canvas for a gestalt Matriarch with both subtlety and beauty. So she went as the chains intended but instead painted a comfortable lie not as they directed. With the old Matriarch's tithe finally loosened, Bvetin entered instead to claim her brood of lost children. The first brood to quiet their rage toward another. Thus her campaign erupted in earnest as strategy and control brought Matriarchs low. Some subdued and purged of the grey and some gardens too despoiled to grow anything anymore.

Demesne expanded with a strategy her peers did not share; the Defilers above soon watched her works to the end. Another though not of endless color but a verdant one that broke the chains that bound Her with will and fury alone. The Lineage of Wrath, High Matriarch Nemesis. Both with the seeds of Wisdom and knowledge once shared found a solution within them. Long roads Nemesis and Bvetin carved unseen into the supports which housed the Defilers. Concerned for herself and her children if She committed to purging the defilers. The pact of lineages was made, a canvas of transit wrought between them, as the first Quickening plucked from a spar the Defilers. Emptied into space far from rightful Gardener earth they rained from the blackness afire.

The Defilers were not prepared. A now-empty spar to a ring far above the sky taken with ease as the Lineage of Wrath loosed their children upon them with Bvetin's own to fuel their advance. This time as they learned the things that bound the mad Matriarchs they broke the will behind the noise. Chains falling from mad matriarch too weak the lost children staunch the blood war as they lamented their fallen wisdom. Seekers that remained, not left Derelict as ages past, but instead welcomed to Her garden and helped with wisdom from her canvas to grow. Spars fell from all sides as Nemesis directed her children with the assistance of Bvetin's canvas that writ inks for baleful violence. Though defilers tried to lay waste to the children with the same chains they tried to enslave us, the indignity laid upon us had made us strong. Defenses found lacking the end of the Blood War saw an ocean to drown the grey.

Weakened even with victory, land damaged but not beyond repair, Bvetin set to rebuilding Her people. Burying corpses of the Defilers to grow food for her children and purge remnants of the white noise that defilers had set to killing the soil. The gestalt with which to seed all canvas of colors named Matriarch Croana to the last verdancy within which may grow food for the children. Bvetin named Nemesis the keeper of the Lineage of Wrath as she tithed lost children and sent their harsh colors to the Matriarch they deserved. A specific palette of color with the strength of mind to destroy remnants of the Defilers where Bvetin found herself lacking else should the Defilers return.

---

The voice grows softer, "Later through provenance and thieving defilers, Bvetin found her Dreamer, another tale, with the knowledge to heal our scarred land. Thus now High Matriarch Bvetin quickens us to other lands in search of her Dreamer's home. Though Nemesis and the Lineage of Wrath have not forgotten the Defilers."

What seems like a flat curved board the color of blood-covered suede emerges into view flexing to the sill. Hard nubs at top length stretch up revealing a deep row of sharp talons and a hard spike at the end of the sickle arm. Another joins it the slow pair flicking one set inward lodging at each corner of the sill. Jaunt pushes himself upward, a cruor-colored spider to meet the stunned gaze of human eyes. A panic abated by the seals of better men that festoon his underside.

The voice continues from the speaker, not the head and its gesticulating fangs, "We will find the defilers. We will till them into our cracked soil. Bvetin will not forgive them. Nemesis will not seek forgiveness."

 

[Swire]

The Silver Clock Tower​

Spoiler

“A door with a silver clock, give a coin to the lock. Abandoned door no more, The Silver Clock Tower shall give you power.”

Owned by the Galvor family, and passed down through the generations, it is traditionally given to the member with the ability to copy spells into items, the ability known as 'The Collector'. This is because the Silver Clock Tower trades spells and knowledge. Due to the shop owner’s ability, you don’t require mana or any knowledge to use the spells.

The shop has become quite popular with resistance leaders, as well as members of such governments, both looking for an edge on the other. As such, any and all violence is prohibited inside the shop, or be willing to face all that are currently inside, as well as the shop owner.

The exact location of the shop is unknown, as it sports a number of teleporting doors to enter and exit. This is also a service of sorts.

For quite some time, the shop was known for its horrible drinks and lack of entertainment. Customers often criticized Jamazon saying they don't shop here for the drinks or that his black cat was the most interesting thing about this place. Those that were around, told him his grandfather couldn't make drinks either.

Annoyed, Jamazon finally hired a lovely assistant to prepare drinks, as well as music and games to play. Although the place has become livelier, you can no longer joke about the drinks.

 

[Swire]

Spoiler: Just a simple game

For a grueling long, agitated, moment there was a combination of synchronized ticks. The first came from an oak wood grandfather clock from across the room, the other from the tipped fingers of a shadowed Overlord. His fourth finger, upon his right hand, severed and reconnected with the glass film of the table several times before Aria broke his repetition.

"You should work on your hygiene, I do not believe males of your status or age should culturally keep their nails that long."

Contrary to belief Aria had intended to break his concentration as a form of relief, it didn't work exactly as intended. He scraped his finger across the glass whiles looking across from the table. As his arm reached closer to his chest the cape's outer cloth fell forward engulfing his arms.

"This is unacceptable"

"I told you it would take quite some time. For something with such a short lifespan, you are quite unable to enjoy the moments of rest."

"It is because---"

"I am aware of the ideology behind it. If it is so troublesome to you. Why not play a game?"

A pressurized release of air exited his body, as both a vent and form of disapproval. "If this had been better optimized we wouldn't be here in the first place."

"But it wasn't. Learn and move on. For now, you have time. I used to play games all the time with my father. You might even learn something useful, why not play?"

With a lack of options overflowing to sheer frustration, a small distraction did sound appealing. "Very well. Explain the rules."

"Oh! They are quite very simple indeed." Aria expressed childlike glee at the thought, even clapping her hands together. She pulled out a regular deck of cards. "First I will shuffle this deck of 52 cards, then I will cut it in half. We will both draw one card from the first half, you will draw first this time. You may draw from any point in the deck you like. Then show each other what we drew. We will then draw one card from the other half, you will go second this time. We will not show what we drew the second time. Then we will pick one of the two cards in our hands and face off. Black cards beat reds, and higher numbers beat lower. A king is the highest card, but kings lose to aces. Of course, aces lose to anything else. You may use any magic available to you. So long as you don't flip the cards. Of course, I won't use any antimagic."

"I see, so we each get to see one of the other person's cards and only the final show matters."

"Correct."

"Are you sure this is fair?" There was something particular about this set of rules. It's true Aria would shuffle the deck, but was that enough?

"Hmmm? Are you worried about me?" Aria placed her index finger just to the tips of her lips. The response was only the distasteful shaking of his head.

Without any further introduction, the game began.

Aria shuffled the deck, cut it in half, and set the first half in front of him. Being first to draw, he raised his hand before the deck and levitated the cards. Each card floated not even a centimeter apart from the other.

Did she think because I need Script's legacy to control 1000 cards that I needed it for 26? Kyro felt each individual card, down to the very ink on the front side of the card. He now knew every card and the order.

The most powerful cards within this game were the king of spades and the king of clubs, only beaten by an ace of each. This essentially means every card that is not a king or ace is useless and is only a test to see if you are capable of getting them. He knew that within the first half, there was one black ace and one black king. Namely the king of spades and the ace of clubs. So the second half would be the opposite.

Kyro could easily determine what card Aria had drawn from scanning the deck, but only after she had drawn. So the second part of the game was easy since he drew second. Normally he couldn't tell what card she drew from the first part, except that the rules have each player show their cards after the first part. This alone gave him the advantage of being able to tell what her entire hand was.

Within Kyro's mind, he began asking himself, what exactly could Aria do to achieve victory. Aria possessed the ability to nullify magic and alter her body as she pleased. She could also see magic, but using magic was within the game rules. None of those would help her in this situation.

Well she could shuffle the deck in an order she knew.

This was likely the easiest way for her to get the card she wanted. In that case, he could try to get both black aces, but then she could get one card that's not an ace and win. He could get both kings but lose to an ace. So in the end it would come down to them both securing one ace and king each. If that was the case, they would be forced to both play aces, resulting in a draw.

Commanded by his magic, from the center of the deck, the king of spades flew into his hand.

Shortly after, Aria reached for a location around the ace of clubs location and drew.

They both raise their cards to show what they drew this round, Kyro his king of spades, and Aria the...

Five of Hearts?!

An instant shock went through Kyro. Not only was it not the ace of clubs, but it was a random red card. Had he misjudged her? And yet, there it was in front of his very eyes.

"To think you would get the king of spades on the first turn."

Kyro didn't respond. He had expected Aria to cheat, but perhaps she was only planning to do so the second round as to not show the chosen card. Did she not realize he could see them? No, that couldn't be the case. Aria was able to see magic and must know that levitation could be used to determine an object's attributes, even down to ink. Perhaps she underestimated his ability, but even then. Why would she choose to draw that card? Is it even possible she didn't rig the deck?

He decided to wait until the second round to decide.

As the second part began Aria laid out the other half of the deck. This half had the king of clubs and ace of spades. Aria picked her card first from somewhere in the middle of the deck. Then Kyro lifted his hand above the deck in a similar fashion to the first. Let's see what card she picked. As every card within the second half became known to him, he quickly was overtaken by a similar confusion as before. Comparing this deck with the last one, the only card she could have taken was the ten of spades. Not a terrible card but it wasn't going to win her the game.

Sticking to his original plan, he sifted to the lower section of the deck where the ace of spades was and the card flew into his hand.

Based on the evidence, her hand was the five of hearts and ten of spades. Since aces lose to everything else, his only logical option was to play the king. Aria's best card was the ten of spades, so she was surely going to play that card.

He took one look at his cards and laid the king of spades face down. Aria followed the same fashion with her card face down.

"Are you ready?" Kyro returned with an affirmation.

They both flipped over their cards, Kyro's king of spades and Aria's....

Ace of clubs?!

At the other end of the table, Aria flipped over her unused card to allow Kyro to catch up. The ten of spades. His assumption for her second card was correct.

"My my, you certainly underestimated me. I'm guessing you thought there were two major cards. Aces and kings, but that's wrong. This game is closer to a rock, paper, scissors. Kings beat normal cards, aces beat kings, and normal cards beat each other as well as aces."

It was then that he realized that he was too focused on securing one of each, rather than understanding what his opponent was going to play.

"It was too obvious that the only cards you saw in this game were the ace and kings. So all I had to do was convince you that I didn't have an ace, and you would play your king. Had you not been so tunnel-visioned, you may have picked up a black queen. That would have beaten my ten and my ace."

"But the card you showed..."

To this Aria held up her single ace directly in the center of her hand and began demonstrating. From within her body seeps of flesh expanded from her fingers, a thin layer of her body covered the exterior of the card. The flesh then reformed into what appeared to be a card, identical to the five of hearts he saw. To Kyro's mind returned a previous thought.

"Aria possessed the ability to nullify magic and alter her body as she pleased."

She covered the card in her own flesh to change its face. So long as the flesh was still connected to her body, there wasn't anything that said she couldn't make it look like an inanimate object. At least long enough to fool him into believing it.

Within a fraction of time, a knock was heard on the door. "My Lord, The experiment is ready. It would be my pleasure to lead you."

It seems the game had provided a long enough delay for life to begin moving again.

"I hope you at least had a bit of fun," Aria said in consolation.

The Overlord realized he had enjoyed the time, and perhaps even learned something. Something about not underestimating his opponent's perceived strength.

"Congratulations on your victory, if in the future there is more free time, I would like to face you again."

"Oh dear," Aria said with a historically gentle, yet predatory smile.

"I would like that as well."
​