Fantasy The Myths of Mirthland (Lore)

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The Mirth​

Wedged between the mountains and the ocean, lay the dreary, wet marshes of the Mirth. The tall mountains keep the rain in, and the travellers out more often than not. The broad, slow rivers have torn most of this land into islands of all sizes, woven together by creeks, streams and shallow bogs. Still, there are positives to this land of fog and cold; the soil is fertile and rich, and the rivers good to cross long distances for trade. Civilisation has a strong foothold here, even if it is unkind to any that does not belong to the Mirth. Under the current king, the many island nations are united. Several islands were cleansed of monstrosities and creatures, providing harbours and safe cities to live in. But monsters are hardly the worst that threatens this semblance of stability.
Where the people are civil, studies of magics follow, and with those come the cruel minds of experimenters. Foreign nations take interest in resources, to take them for themselves, whether out of greed or envy. Where the rich prosper, the poor revolt. Yes - there lay many threats in the Mirth.

But what came to the Mirthlands was not human nor was it monster: a disease has laid claim on the bog from which it rose. A terrible plague that quickly swept along the trade routes, into the fortified cities. It starts with dark red rashes, that turn black over the span of days. Until the very skin sloughs off, leaving the tissue exposed to rot and infection. Before the week is past, a grown man will have putrefied. In the last days, even their minds decay. Unable to speak or think, before they succumb. From time to time they will escape their homes, shambling in the streets. The survivors call them husks: no monsters, but no men either.
The illness has decimated the lands in the span of two months, with no end in sight. In desperation, the people of the Mirth will call to aid for anyone that might know how to end the plague. Of course, this comes with plenty who tell the masses they have a cure... for the easy price of a gold coin. But a few might be able to truly help these cursed lands.

While in the Mirth, the disease will whittle away at your character. Your character is generally immune, but certain actions can influence that immunity. No one is truly safe from the plague. Not even you.

 

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Harrowhold and the city of Fenborough​

The Mirth is divided into a northern and a southern part by the river Vraal. The broad, slow moving waters are the main artery of trade for the Mirthlands. Along its riverbanks there are many bogs and fens, shallow waters that are rarely if ever stirred. Fenborough lends it names from these waters; build on a series of hills that lay safe above the fens. They are not quite isles, but may as well function as such for the city’s defense.
On the largest hill lays the key fortress that overseers the town: Hallowhold. On the rare clear days, it’s tall watchtowers are visible from miles away. Currently Lord Grimbare is the master of the town and its hold, but no one has seen the man for weeks. Ever since the plague took hold of Fenborough, silence has befallen Hallowhold.

Due to the harsh conditions of the bogs, and the riches that the port brings the locals, Fenborough is entirely walled. The islands are filled to the brim with tall houses, but even those can’t hold the people that want to enter. The marsh however is such a harsh landscape that the few that dare settle outside of the walls are quick to perish. Several ghost villages and ruined farms lay half sunken in the murky waters.
In their turn, the people of Fenborough are unwelcoming to outsiders. Out of a general fear of the unsafety of the world, but also afraid that the little space they have will be taken from them. Of course, that fear has been proven moot now, with many houses marked with the Eyes that Have Seen: large vertical eyes, painted in either white or red to signal diseased and deceased inhabitants respectively.

 

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On Arcana and the Soul​

In the terms of the Arcanists, magic is 'the Soul made real'. It is less clear however how one must accomplish such a feat of having their life force influence the physical world. Most ordinary people do not have the kind of soul capable of grand magic, they are limited in their uses, or unable to cast at all. For many that are able to cast something, they can only manage to do this through an object that allows them to focus their Soul. Such objects are conveniently called Foci, or a Focus in singular. The ability to use a Focus depends on whom uses it, some people never get further than a magical light, others are able to cast handy arcane spells through wands, weapons and even instruments if they so desire.

The class of magic casters that require Foci, are in circles of the Arcane indicated with the title of Magi Minor. This does not mean that they cannot be formidable in what they cast, but moreso that their are dependent on a thing in the physical world to cast their magic through. Wihout a Foci, a Minor cannot cast any magic at all. Their Soul is simply not able to materialise in the real world without such a gateway.

The class that most commoners know as magic users, are in arcane circles referred to as Magi Major. These magicians can cast spells using words, symbols or other such temporary Foci for their spells. They are able to cast out their souls through memorisation of a ritual or routine, which can take as many varied forms and shapes as magic itself. Magi Major cannot be separated from their powers, and their varied way of casting makes them unpredictable. They most often are the scholars of magic, theorising and advising. Some however take a different approach and exercise their abilities more often; as the most elite soldiers in the ranks of empires, or legendary monster slayers. In any way, the Magi Major should never be underestimated.

There is however, a class of Magi so elusive, their are the subject of myths and whispers only. The Magi Imperior. Magi that can cast with solely their will. Their very thoughts can be realised in the world without so much as a blink. The few that are said to belong to this class are disputed however, with most speaking of a misconception before arcanists took a more scholarly approach. The eye witnesses that claimed to see Magi Imperior, were not the most trustworthy, and there is no proof that they cast spells without ritual. A silent gesture or motion could easily be missed. Thus it seems that they will forever remain in their stories, disputed and unconfirmed.

Being a mage is a terribly dangerous affair; one has to play with the capabilities of their own soul to do so. Not many have character they can expend, let alone life. Casting too zealous in too narrow a time span, can easily extinguish the light of a soul. The greatest feats of magic carry with them the risk of death, but even minor spells weaken the unprepared mind. The path of the arcane leads to power, but this can only be reached through care, patience and restraint.

 

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True Monsters​

Hostile and aggressive beings can be found all over the world, there is no doubt about that. But a True Monster is identified by it's dark soul. The most evil of creatures tend to turn monstrous, although some kinds of creatures are more dispositioned to this than others. Even humans can make terrible monsters if their soul is just dark enough. The process is a slow, steady decline. In essence, when one becomes a monster, the entire soul is cast out from it's immaterial plane and merged with the physical. A monster has no sense, no reason, not a speck of light that would flow forth from a sacred plane of spirit. But a whole soul is a powerful thing, and this power needs to go somewhere. Thus it twists the body in whatever way it sees fit to wreak the most havoc, for evil wants only one thing: more evil.
There are very few that could destroy a monster, and a monster needs to be destroyed for it to die. Since the soul can't be severed - like it would for any normal creature's death - a monster needs to be dissected and carved away so much that the individual parts can't live. Once life is rendered impossible, the soul will retract from the material and flee back into immaterial. This event is called the Fade, and is very dangerous in its own right.

To flee the material world, an Evil Soul must shed a lot of it's force, since its darkness is what left it cast out. This force then lingers and affects its surroundings. It tends to look for other souls to cling to the most, and if this other Soul is not strong enough to resist the evil it will corrupt them, and thus continue the cycle of evil. A strong soul however, may cauterise the evil, and take the force into itself. Thus a strong soul will become stronger from facing evil.
This event of Fading is why many still attempt to slay monsters, as it is a promise of power. Wise men would know that this seems little more but a double edged blade: if one does succeed in defeating a true monster, one still has to overcome the evil it has shed on them. Very few are able to return from slaying a monster, and even fewer return a better person.

Of course, True Monsters are not the only things that haunt the common folk. Just like how a wolf preying on a deer is not evil, but survival, there are many creatures that naturally prey on human beings. The obvious example here being wolves. But there are other such creatures, like the Lamia, that seduces sailors and feeds on them. The wyvern that snatches cattle for their young. The hags, that enjoy the meat of children. None of these are True Monsters, but many will call them that, and to most the difference is too little to matter. Only those that have faced both and lived, know just exactly how far apart they truly are.