Category Archives: In-Game Staff Submissions

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The Festival of Souls and Its Traditions

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The end of Reapingdusk and the beginning of Boneharvest is a time of year that is uniquely identified Thinning Veil-300by both tradition and circumstance. It is during this time that the Spirit Realm most closely overlaps Magesta and the time when the veil separating the two Realms thins and flutters. Spirits- friendly, hungry, angry, curious, and restless- walk the world, their purposes as unique as they are. It is during this time that we are also able to experience the various imprints that inhabitants of this world have left on the world around them. These are known as Souls and they differ from Spirits, though exactly how they differ is not 100% certain.

The most popular understanding is that a soul is a kind of reverse projection of a spirit that resides in the Spirit Realm or possibly elsewhere. By reverse, it is meant that one’s spirit is the very definition of the self, which is mostly determined by how he understands himself or how he is understood by higher powers than himself. A soul, on the other hand, is the projection of how others understand and understood that spirit. These “others” are generally thought to be that spirit’s peers or lessers. During the Festival of Souls, it is our privilege and honor to be able to experience these moments in people’s lives and to remember their time on this world.

Many folks throughout Magesta have different ways of celebrating this solemn and sacred time of year. One widely practiced tradition is that of Ayslee. Started by the fae as a means of allowing the fae children created during Ayawe (the Spring celebration of Life) to pass into the Fae Realm and be taken into one of the Fae Houses there, it has also been used as a ceremony of remembrance, mourning, and celebration of the passing of our loved ones to the Spirit Realm. Dolls are made out of the dead and dying crops and plant life, and a solemn procession is made to a fire. There, around the fire, those gathered will toss their dolls into the flames and recount tales of their loss, sing songs, or simply allow grief to pass. Though originally a fae celebration, it has since become a tradition for much of Magesta as well.

In many areas, the carving of pumpkins or gourds is traditional. It is common to carve faces, protective runes, and designs into a hollowed out gourd and then to put a candle inside it and place it in a window or on the porch of your house. This tradition started as a means of keeping Wandering Jack, a thrice-cursed spirit who prowls through the world carrying a lantern made from a carved turnip away from your house and loved ones. Superstition says that if your household does not bear one of these lanterns, Wandering Jack will find you and your Spirit will be in danger of being fed to his Abyssal Hounds. Beware the howling dog, for it is said that it heralds the approach of Wandering Jack.

Festival of SoulsAround the world you can find practices that show the deep respect and even fear that Magestans have for the long dead around us. In some places, fruits, gifts, breads, are placed at shrines and altars in an attempt to welcome and honor Magesta-bound, wandering spirits and remind them of their time alive. It is also a means to try and satisfy their spiritual hunger and fill them with a sense of belonging and gratitude.

And finally, in some parts of the world, you will see the streets filled with people in costume, gallivanting and celebrating. It is said that dressing up as the various creatures wandering the earth would fool the evil spirits into thinking that you were one of them so that they would not try to take you away with them. There are also superstitions that claim that the visiting spirits could disguise themselves in human form, such as a beggar, and knock on your door during the Festival of Souls asking for money or food. If you turned them away empty-handed, you risked receiving the wrath of the spirit and being cursed or haunted.

With so many interesting traditions and experiences, it is no wonder that the Festival of Souls is such an honored and much-loved time of year. I wish you the best during these days, and hope your celebrations and traditions are wonderful.

Fervent Umi Vashgarden

Hearkin on the Run!

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Elmerton,

Boneyard of the EmancipatorYou were so very close to being able to being able to wrest the Dream Reaver completely from the control of Dreamweaver Hearkin. From what I can tell you were eight or so threads short of granting it complete freedom. As it stands, Hearkin still maintains some control over the Reaver and she will still be a problem for you and the rest of Magesta once she has time to tend her wounds.

However, you should know that it was smart to let her live- for now. Members of the Hearkin line have been cursed to serve the Gatekeeper and simply killing them will not remove them from their posts. Doing so would only have triggered a contingency that would have undoubtedly turned the Dream Reaver against you completely, and her command would almost certainly have been to destroy you. You must devise a way to remove her from her post and strip her of her connection to both Brimm and the Gatekeeper, similarly to the way you managed Lt. Hearkin. The sooner you can do this, while she’s more vulnerable, the better.

I will do what I can to help,

Minister Tellah Forgedheart

Elmerton to Host Gauntlet Run

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Denizens of Elmerton,Running_the_gauntlet

Thank you for hosting the Warden’s Gauntlet Run in which several runners will be making the second check point in their race on the 7th day of Boneharvest.  Mistress Skye has recommended Elmerton as a checkpoint specifically for the unique ability of its inhabitants to interfere and present highly defensible and deadly obstacles for the runners. As our contestants have been told that you are exceedingly hostile and aggressive, they will be very vigilant and will be looking to gain the upper hand in making it through the Gauntlet. It is in your best interest to to defend one another to prevent any unfortunate incidents during this event, and we are interested in seeing which of our runners survives the night.

Neither participation nor aloof observation offers guarantee of safety from any of the contestants or their pursuers. 

-Warden Lyrissa

 

A Howl in the Night

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A howl echoed across the land, so loud it seemed to shake the trees and the stars around the full moon. But this howl was not full of rage like most people have heard; it was a call full of longing and welcome. Those werewolves created by the Great Alpha heard this call and headed towards it, and even some of those not created by the Great Alpha were stirred to investigate the source. I, Matrius, was also moved by this howl, and decided to see what was happening. This is my account.

In a clearing not far from the town of Elmerton, standing before a bonfire, stoic and waiting, was Palgar, brother of Renwar of House Lav’Endros. I managed to find a well-hidden spot in order to see what was happening. I may have great ties to the moon, to be sure, but trying to explain that to a group of confused and hungry werewolves; well, I was not going to take that chance. Little by little, werewolves from across Irvanshire entered the clearing. Some came in pairs and others in small groups. Still others came alone. I recognized that most of the pack that had aligned themselves with the White Wolf were present, but there were a great many werewolves from other packs as well. As the clearing filled up and the trickle of werewolves entering the clearing slowed, tensions, and hackles, began to rise as the territorial creatures vied for space in the crowd. All notice of Palgar seemed to be lost in the throes of chaos until he raised his arms as if to spread a calm over the clearing. The ruckus calmed and eventually the clearing became utterly silent while everyone turned his or her focus to Palgar.

“My family,” he began, his voice ringing throughout the clearing. “Thank you for answering my call. To those of you whose creation was not by my hand, I bid you welcome. I am Palgar. I am known as the White Wolf, and I am the embodiment of the Great Alpha.” Some murmurs rippled through the clearing, but were quickly silenced. “However, I am not the Great Alpha that many of you have been recently aware of. The rage that has blinded me for decades has been purged from me, and with that, I have found a new clarity. I have discovered a longing to help our kind become more than mindless animals that kill without regard for hunger or for sport, but a true cross between human and wolf. The werewolf needs a place in this world, free of fear from not only those that would hunt us, but from the fear, rage, and bloodlust that runs through our veins. For, though we come from different packs, we all share this curse, this disease, but it is my hope that this shared ailment will come to create a strong bond between us. It is my goal to help those of us who wish to control the monster within and embrace the wolf to do so – and to find a family in the meantime.”

Some among the gathering of werewolves and men howled or cheered hopefully, while some scoffed and scorned his message, calling him blinded by hope and optimism. Still others lay silent, curious as to what else Palgar had to say.

“I have seen a path of death for us if we do not change. There are many out there who have and will take the sword to us, simply because we are werewolves, with no regard to our human personage or our lives. And I say this has to stop now. We shall form a new pack, here and now. Those of you that wish to stay, I welcome you as my family. Those of you that wish to go, I hope you live long lives, but I wish that you will come to see that this is the best way for us to survive, to grow, and to become stronger than any werewolf has ever been alone. However, it is not my intent to use this power to ravage and kill, but to defend our family and protect the land that has given us this gift. Those that leave will not be hunted by us, but do not think that you will be allowed to prey upon us; you will quickly find that to be your last mistake in this world.”

The words were barely out of his mouth when a huge monster of a werewolf started charging towards Palgar, snarling, a vicious howl half-formed on his lips. He attacked with blinding speed, but was met halfway by Palgar and thrown violently to the ground. As the wolf lay pinned and struggling beneath the hand of Palgar, the latter sighed and bowed his head and muttered something under his breath. Within seconds, the werewolf had turned back into a large man. Palgar bared his teeth in a solemn snarl and said reprovingly, “Leave. Now. I will not kill you, unless you try to attack me or my family again. Then I will remove you like a healer removes a canker.”

As the large man stomped out of the clearing, followed by several snarling, snapping werewolves, Palgar turned to the others. “There has been far too much killing and death. Let our new path change those ways, and possibly change those that think of us only as cursed creatures. Now is the time to choose. What path shall you walk from this time forth?” The air seemed to clear suddenly and many of the werewolves slunk away from the clearing, howling as they made their way back to their own territories. However, there were a few who stayed close to Palgar and the fire.

I must admit, I was stunned to see how many remained – werewolves are generally not creatures that can be reasoned with. However, it was at that point that I started to notice something different about Palgar- a slight golden glow that seemed to be coming from him. I was so puzzled by this, I almost missed what Palgar said next.

“My family, we have much to do. But I shall watch over and guide you. I shall always be here to help and protect you. As a pack, we need to be strong together. My time is nearing its end here. With my passing, I shall share with you what was given to me. I hope that it helps you all as it has helped me.”

It seemed that everyone gathered could now see the golden glow around Palgar. It became stronger and took shape in the outline of a wolf. With another howl full of warmth and longing, Palgar turned and walked into the darkness of the night, his golden wolf form lingering behind him, gazing at all those gathered there. The golden, wolfish outline grew and circled the gathering before lying down and engulfing the entire pack, myself included, in its glowing form. As the glow slowly faded, I was filled with the knowledge the pack would need in order to begin its quest for control. And though Palgar’s form seemed to have disappeared into the night, we knew that when they have need of him, the Great Alpha will be there.

Families Displaced in Great Frostwood

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Reports from the Great Frostwood indicate that soldiers clad in orange tabards displaying the spear and crook of the warmonger known as the War King have been displacing communities there.  Towns surrounding the Frostwood are getting increased traffic from migrants, straining their own ability to operate and feed their citizens, despite this year’s bountiful harvest.  When approached for an official statement, House Windlock, under whose jurisdiction much of the Great Frostwood falls, reports that no one is being forced from their homes, and anyone travelling under their own volition are welcome to do so pursuant to the internal migration policies of the Kingdom of Irvanshire.

Strange Migrations

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Irvanshire,

You’ll never guess the surprise that befell me several weeks ago. As I was on the edges of my compound, patrolling for poachers and safeguarding the wood, I stumbled across several wood trolls making a beeline right for me. As I fight defensively, I drew my blade and awaited their attack, but, surprisingly, they proceeded to run right by me! Flabbergasted, I continued to patrol my lands and discovered several other groups of wood trolls doing the exact same thing! They all appeared to be heading north, but kept looking behind them to the south, as if worried that something was following them.

Since then, other colleagues of mine have reported similar findings all over Irvanshire. The common connection seems to be that they are either migrating or fleeing north. As a researcher of all things natural, I encourage anyone with any information at all about these strange occurrences to make contact with me via letter or seek me out at my lodge in The Great Frostwood in person. I eagerly look forward to any responses at all. Keep your eyes sharp!

Regards,

Arados Holfax
Woodwarden of The Great Frostwood

Stay Awake- Don’t Close Your Eyes

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I will not lay me down to rest.

My heart beats quickly in my chest.Artist's Rendition

I sit at night in bed full dressed.

For in my dreams, it waits. It waits.

My eyes betray me- Dream takes O’er

Clouds of rank breath o’er me pour

Claws pierce my body spilling gore

That used to be me. That was me.

I will not lay me down to rest. I will not lay me down to rest. I must not lay me down…

Disturbing, isn’t it? This was a poem written by one of my constituents before he was found dead in his bed a week later. The frightened expression on his face and extensive internal bleeding perplexed his family and healers throughout the city- especially since there was minimal external damage (a spiraling bruise was found centered over his heart). His closest friends, when asked, said that he had been plagued by awful nightmares recently- especially ones in which a primal, clawed beast stalked him relentlessly before shoving its claws through his chest and killing him. The strangest thing about these dreams seemed to be that he stayed asleep through his dream death longer than most people do. Most people, for example, will wake up before they die in their dreams. However, this young man claimed that he saw himself die at the hands of this intelligent hunter in his very vivid dreams. Sadly, these strange dreams weren’t given much consideration until after his death. Since then, there have been at least a dozen or so people in Hatchport alone who have come to me relaying hauntingly similar dreams.

There have been several deaths recently that have very similar circumstances (all with spiraling bruises left on their bodies) and whose families have relayed similar concerns about nightmares, and it is my belief that this will continue to happen. I believe that we have a killer on our hands that is able to move, and kill, through dream itself. I will be taking pains to investigate the kingdom and stop this, so if you have information or have witnessed either these nightmares or know someone who has, please send information to me as soon as possible.

-Tellah Forgedheart

Minister of Hatchport, Irvanshire

Ritual Sites Animated by Tshukurka

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Elmerton,

in the wee hours of the morning on the last night of Stillbreeze, I passed through your town as part of a normal patrol. I was witness to something I thought you should be made aware of. I had been looking at the ritual spot that had been created in front of the Allegiant Hall when I heard someone approaching. The rattle of bones and the putrid stench of the recently dead made it apparent that whomever was approaching was doing so with a group of undead. I backed into the shadows and kept watch.

Two men with the mark under their left eyes that identified them as a Remeika came and stood in front of the site. Calling out to the Exiled One and using power directly borrowed from him, one of the men said a series of incantations and cut his arms, bleeding profusely over the site. Finally, he cast an extremely powerful summons to rise and serve his Master and the ground beneath him trembled and broke as a creature similar to the Grave Elementals, but created from the bones and objects of the site, crawled out and stood before him.

The necromancer looked over his creature appraisingly and then ordered his whole group to follow him. I followed them quietly and watched as the same thing was repeated at the ritual site between Lower Cabin and the entrance that leads to the Southern Woods.

After both his creatures had been raised, he gave them instructions to seek out the Guardian, Azareth, and kill him. The creatures lumbered away and the necromancer looked to his companion saying, “If it hadn’t been for him, all three would have been completed with ease.”

With that, the necromancers and their group of undead walked out of town. I sent word as quickly as I could to some of the other Waywatchers in the area, so I doubt they made it very far. However, all the same, it is likely that this Azareth is in trouble and I thought you should know about it.

-Waywatcher Bosk

Declaration From the Sons of Alaric

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To our friends and brothers and sisters in arms in Irvanshire:

Greetings. My name is Special Agent Atwater. I am a former scribe and scholar who joined and fought with the Sons of Alaric after my family was killed by the undead creations known as Ultimates. The Sons wish to clear the air a bit and keep everyone informed of our activities and overall mission. I will break this up into simple numbered points.

1. Supreme Commander Alaricson is still not with us. The grief he felt when commander McConell died hit him very hard. We have tried to contact him, but so far we have failed. In his stead, General Tunney from the Terl Ayre branch has been called back to be Steward Commander until he returns. We have also called back Special Agent Fisher, who has been promoted to General.

2. Making sure Project Deadman (PDM) never returns is still our top priority. With Garland and Sebastian dead and, as far as we know, the beacons destroyed, it would be highly unlikely that PDM would be able to return, though loose ends still exist. We know that Garland’s son Dedrick is still alive, and we have heard rumors of a book that not only explains how to create the serum that is needed, but the proper incantations and other scientific means for creating the beacons to power PDM creations, as well as the full process to create “Perfects” and “Ultimates.” Anyone with any information on this should contact us immediately. You will be rewarded with coin and/or training.

3. The Sons are also still hunting vampires and actively seeking out those who supported them in their latest “Game” that claimed countless lives.

4. We also support Bosephus Blackgate and his clan in their fight against Rebekkah Sky and her clan in the Blackgate war. We have been supporting Bosephus with food, money, and weapons for months. We now have agents and other troops below ground to support them. We consider the fusion of regular humans and shadows in accelerated birth pits to be an abomination, and it must be stopped.

5. We have no statement on the Gatekeeper at this time.

We hope this clears things up. The Sons of Alaric may not be as publicly active as we once were, but we are working tirelessly to ensure that evil will never triumph.

Thank you for reading this.

The dead may rise from their graves and they may walk, but as long as even a single agent draws breath, they’d better run.

-Special Agent Atwater

The Evernight in the Boneyard

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The Sacred Boneyard of Aegus the Emancipator. Sounds grand, doesn’t it? Well, after having heard about this place being debated about for the last few moons and after having had a particularly vivid dream about it, I decided to go see it in person. I spent a week or so getting to the Bay of Murmurs and then, because its location wasn’t precisely specified, it took me another few days to actually find it (about 35 miles SSW of Battlekeep- not quite on the shore as I was led to believe). I was a little surprised to actually find it (and now owe my guildmate 2 gold for losing our bet), but there it was- almost exactly as I saw it in my dream.

I entered through the ornate gateway and immediately I was overcome with a sense of peace and tranquility. It was in that graveyard that I faced the awesome Sacred nature of Death in all its purity. I walked among the gravestones for a few hours (it is that big!), some of which were hundreds or even thousands of years old, and contemplated what it meant to be here and alive amongst these hushed and peaceful bodies.

Darkness came more quickly than I was expecting and I found myself unable to find my way to the exit. I walked further and eventually it became so dark that I could see absolutely nothing. I’m afraid I lost my head a little and began to run carefully down what seemed like a path.

After an indeterminate amount of time, things began to get a little lighter and my pounding heart started to slow down to near normal. I looked around and found myself in a part of the graveyard that… well, just didn’t make sense. In fact, as I continued my search, I found that I was in an entirely different place. It was warmer and wooded, and the smell of the air was different. Additionally, the dozen or so gravestones in the area were not surrounded by a stone wall or any sort of gate. After wandering for a bit more I met a man named Byron who told me that I was in the town of Elmerton- a small township in the Fiddlehead Hills- over 600 miles from where I had been. He tried to reassure me over a cup of strange tea made over a modest campfire that this was not entirely unexpected and that he had been working with another man to create a pathway through the Evernight Forest (Yes, you read that correctly: The Evernight Forest) and that it looked as though one had been tentatively established- even if it did bring a bit of the other side through. “Oops!” he said in a tone that barely masked his glee.

I was unnerved to say the least and didn’t wait around to hear much more. I thanked Byron for the tea and took my leave that day to head back home. It seems, then, that this peaceful graveyard exists simultaneously in two different places and that all this has to do with the Evernight Forest and a strange bearded man and his unknown accomplice. The next time I go searching for legendary sites or people, please remind me not to.