The Cloisters, The First Excursion

A collection on the recounting of the first descent into the Abyss.

From the Reconstruction Archive, 534 Sela

Documented by Magister Tyrus, The Archive

Today, “The Abyss” and all that that terrible expanse entails are commonplace in our daily conversation. Most of us have known at least one person lost to the creatures of The Abyss. Some of us have even personally encountered The Corruption that periodically crawls up from the Abyssal Scars. It is hard to believe that, ten short years ago, that nightmarish place was something most of us considered as we might consider a long dormant volcano: dangerous, certainly, but not a cataclysm one will know in their lifetime.

Indeed, prior to The Blood War, the Abyss was known only by its Scars. Measuring anywhere from twenty feet to a mile long, these jagged fissures in the earth–smelling of bile and smoke–have been a long threatening presence in Circadia. However, before the Blood War, they were understood only as dangerous geographical features which, if stepped into, almost certainly spelled out death. Of course, now we know that these Scars are not mere wounds but the only known entry points into the Abyssal landscape–a world both below us and outside of even the Gods’ purview.

The Rakes’s Decree

It is commonly accepted that the Scars widened and deepened during the Blood War. We know further that, since the Scars have expanded, the forces we call the Corruption have grown in number and frequency.

Prior to the Blood War, only very enterprising individuals ventured into the Abyss, few of them rarely returning. However, the increased presence of The Corruption, and the evergrowing threat of the Scars, neccesitated some sort of action. Odipos Rakes, while he was still High Priest of Nepheris, arranged for the first excursion party to The Abyss. Since this decree, accompanied excursions by elite Devout have become more common, and the Rakes family has ordered the mapping of the Abyss.

While the extant records are many, below is one of the most celebrated. While not the most detailed of accounts, it is, afterall, the first record of an encounter in the Abyss.

The First Descent, A Personal Account

The initial descent felt as if it took us four, perhaps five hours.

Slowly, and unable to use the abilities of our Gods, we lowered ourselves into the steaming trenches of the deep Abyss. In the utter darkness, we could see little but flickering lights rising from some unfathomable base. Squelching, shuddering sounds sometimes rippled up from the depths, but we mostly descended in the naked silence, accompanied by only our own labored breath.

The smell of the place remains difficult to describe. At times it was noxious, like bursts of acid or poisoned smog;other times it was fetid like spoiled meat or rotting grains. Very rarely, though equally powerfully, the smell was pleasantly floral, like a sundrenched meadow perfumed with heady citrus. This combination of scents, always in flux, often turned the stomachs of my comrades, and we frequently paused for bouts of horrific nausea.

When we finally alighted at the first depth, we found some solid footing. We call it the first depth, as its where we took our initial marker. It was as far down as we went, as I will later explain. While we stood on the terrain, our eyes adjusted to the peculiar dark. This was surprising in and of itself–we had assumed and prepared for a world cast in complete shadow. However, the Abyss throws off a slowly pulsing light which created enough by which to see. Fastening our rope to our entry marker, we continued.

There was little of much excitement to see, at least at first. While our cartographer was pleased to finally traverse the landscape, we had expected a bit more action. Considering that the Corruption erupts from the Scars in droves, we had anticipated a skirmish or two. Under normal circumstances, I might have been disappointed. However, my stomach still in knots from the descent, I proceeded on with some cautious ease.

And, indeed, the landscape itself held our interest. It was as though we were traversing the tunnels of some subterranean cave. This was, of course, easy enough to accept given our descent. However, the terrain was like no terrestrial cave system we had ever visited. Rather than being of rock or earth, the Abyss was slimy and fleshy to the touch–it was almost like raw, bloody offal coated in a film of mucus or blood. It was hard to keep our footing, and we frequently slid into one another. In one instance, one of our Paladins lost their balance and touched their hand to a slippery wall. The wall pulsed a bright purple and hummed angrily, jolting the Paladin with a painful shock that sent them reeling. However, when our Cleric tripped into a wall further down the way, she was nearly absorbed by the wall itself, and it took our eight hands worth of strength to recover her. When she emerged, she was covered in a silvery, glittering liquid. The liquid, which she described as midly tingling, quickly sloughed off her, no marks remaining.

In this strange landscape, we walked for roughly an hour, growing more disoriented with each step. We took frequent pauses as the very atmosphere around us drained us of energy and motivation. Frequently, our comrades were confused and claimed to see things others could not. Though we had brought rations to strengthen ourselves, none of us could bring ourselves to pause and eat. It felt too unsafe.

Finally, I stopped and commanded we ought turn back. Though the cartographer protested lightly, we agreed that we were growing increasingly weary and confused.

It was then we heard the sound.

In the darkness, it emanated forth like a skittering rodent might cry out from a dark alley.

We paused, readying ourselves for an attack.

The sound came forth once more, this time clearer. Perhaps it was my own confusion but, at first blush, I thought it sounded familiar. Very strangely, the sound reminded me of an adult woman attempting to masquerade her voice as that of a young girl–singsong, but unsettlingly, inappropriately so. The voice being made seemed too small for the throat in which it originated. Perhaps this is why the noise sounded like shrill giggling and, perhaps, captivated by the noise, this is why we did not simply run.

When the thing poured itself forth from the dark, we had no time but to stagger back. Like the Corruption we had seen in Circadia, the thing was adjacent to a human being while also starkly monstrous. In this instance, the creature seemed to be little more than an amorphous, flowing pile of whitish, malleable flesh. As it billowed forth, it emitted the strange giggling peal; we caught glimpses of a toe or a finger or a tooth, but such glimpses were lost quickly as the shifting flesh reshaped itself into a less and less distinctive pile of features.

Extending what might have been a limb, the creature paused and, if it is anything like a sentient beast, regarded us. At that moment, the creature came into sharper relief.

Long, greasy strands of brown hair sprouted from what might have been its face. Two holes that might have been a nose gasped air, with great effort, in and out. A pinkish, crooked gash let slop forth an indelible tongue.

“Is it,” our Cleric whispered, “human?”

At this sound, the creature turned towards the Cleric; the Cleric, of course, stood a few inches behind me. I felt myself weaken as I became caught in the creature’s gaze.

And this is what captured my horror most. That creature’s eyes. Bulging out from the creature’s pale, shifting flesh, the dozen or so eyes appeared nearly human. By that I mean, I could see whites and pupils and a shape that was round. But, set against the mottled white skin, the eyes protruded from the creature’s body like yellowed boils. These eyes looked beset by irritation or disease, and they moved ceaselessly. I felt, sickeningly, that if you reached out to poke one, it might burst immediately, gooey and formless like a broken egg yolk. Bulging out from the creature’s flesh, the eyes roved and searched until, suddenly, their direction aligned. With a singular, piercing scream, the creature, now looking entirely at me, lunged.

In good truth and faith: I have no recollection of what happened after that moment and my return to the surface. I know that I was knocked unconscious by the creature’s forceful blows, and I know my comrades must have carried me up the ascent. When I awoke, I awoke in my hospital bed. And my comrades who survived… well, whatever happened down there has cast upon them a permanent silence, as well as a deep loathing of the light. To date, they show no signs of recovery.

At least my brother and father have their first map.

Pilar Rakes, Paladin of Beodhen

Glossary

The Abyss-A place seemingly both under and outside of Circadia, the Abyss is a largely unknown landscape of unparalleld danger.

The Corruption-The strange creatures that originate in the Abyss, The Corruption enter Circadia from Scars and attack individuals they encounter mercilessly; The Corruption have no singular appearance, but are instead unnatural forms horrific to behold.

Curious what the Corruption might look like? Check out some inspiration on our Pinterest board.

The First Descent-A famous excursion into the Abyss that ended in tragedy. While its leader, Pilar Rakes, survived the encounter with his health, the other party members–Adona Lionhardt, Petula Myrcelle, Willis Harks, Genuine Fanton, and Stephan Hayes–emerged totally and irrevocably changed and harmed.

Odipos Rakes-The former High Priest of Nepheris, Odipos was the individual who arranged for the first formal descent into the Abyss

Pilar Rakes– A highly respected Paladin of Beodhen who led the first descent into the Abyss; Pilar still leads occassional excursions

The Scars-Sometimes called Abyssal Scars, these strange fissures in the ground lead into the Abyss. These are the only known entries into The Abyss. The Scars grew in number and size during the Blood War, though they have always existed.

The Rakes Family-A family of wealthy nobles, most Devout among the Rakes are followers of Beodhen and/or Nepheris; the Rakes family is connected with the Abyss. Odipos Rakes, the current patriarch, ordered the first excursion, and his eldest son, Pilar, led it. Odipos’s younger son, Devon, is one of the most esteemed cartographers in all of Circadia and maintains maps of the charted Abyssal landscape.

The Cloisters, The Strange Pursuits of Rodney McQuinn

An account written on the appearance of Magicians with mention of the Philosopher’s Stone.

From the Reconstruction Archive, 533 Sela

Documented by Magister Ashwise, The Cloisters

For those of our generation, The Blood War saw unparalleled levels of death and destruction. While many are quick to blame the Gods and their followers on this, it can not be overstated that some of the most horrendous violence had nothing to do with the Gods themselves. Indeed, many opportunists took the ample chance and fell upon the weakened lands and people of Circadia.

The Witches of Blackbird Hill are perhaps among the most infamous of wartime scavengers, but they are far from the most nefarious. Whatever your opinion may be on witchcraft as a practice, the Blackbird Hill lot were little more than carrion crows descending upon an available feast. We may find it a desecration of the fallen, yes, but they no doubt find it an appropriate recycling of resources. Or so I’ve been told.

In any event, some of the most senseless and greedy acts were committed by otherwise mundane people divorced from magic of any type. One of the most notorious being Balyn the Butcher.

Balyn the Butcher and the Massacre at Wexly Pass

Balyn Crawford was once a cattle farmer from the low country at Plymore. He inherited the farm from his mother and her father before her. The Crawfords were known for sturdy herds of healthy, docile cattle; they distributed leather, meat, and dairy widely to any number of merchants. Balyn Crawford mostly kept to himself, with his wife and two sons playing equal part in the upkeep of the farm.

Unlike many other farmers, Crawford was uniquely situated at the outbreak of the Blood War. His family had never followed the Gods and, by their account, had amassed considerable land and worth without Divine favor. Prior to the war, Balyn had been proud of this, frequently dismissing the Devout of neighboring towns as “lazy” and “incompetent save their gods.” As violence among the Gods and Devout broke out, Balyn became more confident in his gloating.

Indeed, the braggart was perhaps not entirely without foundation. Many common farmers found themselves and their families pulled towards their Divine allegiances. Many crops and livestock were diverted towards feeding the war effort. Some lands were entirely destroyed by battles. And, of course, many fields lay fallow as their tenders abandoned growing for the war and failed to ever return. All the more disastrous trade routes became fraught and deadly. Merchants and traders stopped traveling to remote areas such as Plymore.

Amidst all this, Balyn and his family sat cozily from their lands, chuckling at the good fortune of following no God. Prior to war, Balyn had served as an unlikable but respected farmer; during the war, as food became increasingly scarce, Balyn and his farm were precious necessitites, particularly for the tiny villages in his immediate proximity.

Balyn’s Greed and a Terrible Tax

Another man might have measured out kindness to his fellows, but Balyn was shrewd and self-interested. He drove up prices on his goods, selling the worst of cuts at the highest known marks. When the leaders of the surrounding villages demanded (and later begged) his pity, he struck icy bargains: he would supply meat, dairy, and leather at more reasonable prices, but they would surrender their arable land to him. Should they want to work it for their own good, they would pay him a hefty tax.

The villages had no choice, and the two hundred or so people who relied on the Crawford farm for food found themselves working Balyn’s newly acquired land. However, their landlord was not content and continued to demand increased goods. After a few months, the meager crops they grew failed to match the increasingly burdensome taxes Crawford took.

A Meeting with Balyn

After a year of the Blood War, the largest of the villages, Wexly Pass, populated by some hundred people, found the situation unlivable. Malnutrition and frustration flourished at equal pace. Wexly Pass was a village that had long favored Steramestei, and, due to their continued misfortune, even the Star Lady had been uncharacteristically generous in her blessings. However, dreams don’t fill bellies, and the villagers decided something must be done.

A group of three Wexly Pass leaders organized a meeting at Crawford’s farm. In no uncertain terms, they stated that Crawford’s avarice would cause the death of many and in short order. They asked that he immediately alleviate them of his demands and provide food to the growing number of families going without.

According to eyewitness accounts, Crawford laughed and slapped the table in front of him. “You and what army? Do tell!” he howled, mocking the villagers’ belief in the “all but useless” Steramestei. The villagers retreated in defeat–a simple coup over Crawford, at least in their small number, seemed unlikely. With his wealth, he had hired a group of mercenaries to protect his property.

However, some weeks later, Crawford found himself without pay from Wexly Pass. He sent a scout to demand the taxes, but the scout returned empty-handed. The scout reported further than all of Wexly Pass was barricaded with thirty foot staked fences, including the land Crawford had claimed. Clearly, the inspiration of Steramestei meant something.

Balyn Becomes the Butcher

Crawford was enraged, and his cold heart shivered all the more frozen. He gathered his mercenary group and, leading the charge, set out to Wexly Pass.

The village’s gates did not hold. Things that occurred remain among the ugliest accounts in all Circadian history, and the Massacre at Wexly Pass is a grim story told, in detail, in many other archives. Suffice to say, there were no survivors. The tales we know were recounted directly by Balyn and his mercenaries.

Today, Wexly Pass serves as a memorial to the fallen villagers. It was erected by the Clergy of Kasamei and Steramestei and stands as a somber, eerie condemnation of greed in the face of hardship. Few visit Wexly Pass, remarking on the creeping nightmares that descend upon any who visit.

Justice Writ Heavenly

Balyn remains alive. To the casual reader, this might be surprising. However, as Wexly Pass was Blessed by the Star Lady, Steramestei meted out his judgment swiftly and mercilessly.

Even now, Balyn is held in an unknown jail–he thrashes in his sleep, attempting to wake himself from the endless nightmare with which Steramestei has punished him. It is said that, through her nightmares, he is forced to relive the violence that he has done in an endless cycle. He would be driven mad, some say, were it not for Steramestei’s purview over Madness itself. If Balyn’s heart is of mere earthly ice, Steramestei’s heart is frosted by the unforgiving coldness which garlands the circling heavens.

But where are Magicians in all of this?

Balyn was, after all, an ordinary man who did extraordinary wickedness.

While it is important to be aware of the evil that simple folk can do, it is equally important to understand the strange history of Wexly Pass in order to fully appreciate the Magician Rodney McQuinn.

The Strange Pursuits of Rodney McQuinn and the Philosopher’s Stone

Rodney McQuinn was a rather odd young man who, among other things, fancied a young lady or three at Wexly Pass. A Plymore commoner out of Wexly Pass’s neighboring village, Hardwick, McQuinn traveled weekly to Wexly.

While there, McQuinn was known to dazzle the locals with magical tricks. He would conjure immaterial flowers from the air, change the color of rooftops, and swirl the well-water until it frothed jewel-tone bubbles. Indeed, the parents of the young ladies he fancied might have been less generous with their patience had McQuinn not kept the village’s young children occupied for hours.

McQuinn’s Mystery Tutor

It was widely assumed, of course, that McQuinn was a Devout of Opix or Steramestei who was given to using his magic for frivolity rather than things of a practical nature. However, McQuinn offered no such worship. He kept it a secret unto himself, but McQuinn was a Magician of the simplest kind. Since boyhood, he had been interested in Magic and, at some point in his young adulthood, he had come under the tutelage of a most skilled teacher.

By age 20, McQuinn could bring forth illusory flowers and birds and, by age 22, he had some minor control over the movement of water.

Prior to the Blood War, this meant little, of course. Followers of Opix and Mynair were much better at the control (and even some creation) of water, and McQuinn’s dalliance were no more than entertaining.

McQuinn’s Professional Development

However, as the Devout left for the war, McQuinn found himself frequently asked after. In the absence of ranking Devout, villagers still needed streams diverted for irrigation or flood waters removed from homes. While any such action caused him a great deal of effort, McQuinn was a local handyman of sorts. The mundane chores gave him the opportunity to practice, and he continued to hone his abilities.

As things became dire with Crawford, however, McQuinn’s meager abilities were less and less needed. Villages became insular and former customers could no longer pay. McQuinn charged little for his services, but many who might have formerly asked for his work abandoned their farms and took to gathering their foods wholly from the woods. (“After all,” one woman stated, “Crawford hasn’t yet thought to take what we don’t grow.”) While a bit sad, McQuinn retired from his odd jobs and returned to, in his copious free time, reading the tomes his absent master gave him.

A Return to Wexly Pass

Which brings us to Wexly. McQuinn and his family, who had many a friend in Wexly Pass, were among the first in Hardwick to hear of the massacre. Rodney McQuinn and his three brothers quickly rode their horses to the small village. None of the McQuinn’s will speak on the carnage, but, apparently, Rodney McQuinn had his own sort of awakening.

His oldest brother Osric reports his younger brother stated:

“What is the point of the Gods’ Magic if it cannot protect against the harms Mortals do without it? Mortals should learn to arm themselves, free of the Gods, with Magic.”

Osric claims his brother was “basically raving as one struck by Steramestei.” On their trip back to Hardwick, Rodney continued to ramble to himself, repeatedly claiming that “the Philosopher’s Stone is the answer to all this.” That night, reportedly, Rodney packed up his things and made for the cities. His family has not seen him since.

The Puzzling End

Rodney McQuinn is something of a folk hero, and local Circadian theaters all have their own rendition of his tale. Certainly, McQuinn’s sentiments echo that of many of contemporary Heretics, and even the steeliest of Devouts sympathize with the story.

However, McQuinn’s Magic, and the Magic of all Magicians, should not be relegated to romance. The practice of the Magician, however Heretical, is complex and all but unknown. Afterall, Magicians didn’t emerge in number until shortly before the Blood War. If their magic is anything like that of Witches, it is potentially dangerous to the world around us. If it is not, well… who is to say?

Sadly, McQuinn never left note of where he learned the fundamentals of being a Magician. That remains a story, for now, unknown and all the moreso worthy of earnest pursuit.

Glossary

Balyn the Butcher-A cattle farmer responsible for the murder of some 4 dozen villagers

Kasamei-Steramestei’s sister, she is the celestial goddess associated with passage and death

Magician- an individual who can do minor acts of magic without the Blessing of a God and without using witchcraft

Opix– A fallen God, they are associated with chaos, change, and minor weather events

Philosopher’s Stone-a Magician’s item frequently referenced by known Magicians

Plymore-a remote valley area populated by small villages including Wexly Pass and Hardwick

Steramestei-the goddess of dreams and stars, she is known to be equally kind or cruel when provoked

Rodney McQuinn-a known Magician from the small village of Hardwick

Wexly Pass-A village that was the site of a massacre; it remains an uninhabited memorial

The Cloisters, On Dangers New and Old

An account written in retrospective consideration of Witches.

From the Reconstruction Archive, 533 Sela

Documented by Magister Tyrus, The Archive

As we slowly move ourselves from the long-cast shadow of the Blood War, we enter a time of introspection on our place as Mortals and Devout. Prior to the Blood War, our generation had not experienced such widespread violence nor constant danger. We, of course, know of the Great Wars of the past, where both Mortal and God alike fell, sometimes at one another’s hands. But it is quite a different matter when one experiences a War directly rather than from a dusty sheaf of parchment. The Falling of a God is not something most Mortals see in a lifetime, let alone the Falling of several.

Violence was the currency of the Blood War. But the violence of the Gods and their followers was relegated to (mostly) agreed upon places far outside the largest centers of habitation. While those living at any and all Godscross sites were ordered to evacuate, many found their hometowns and cities largely untouched by the physical warfare. (Interrupted trade routes and supplies notwithstanding.)

Incidental violence, however, was quite a different matter. Indeed, the Blood War provided ample chance for opportunists to make themselves known. Chief among these are the Witches which remain perplexing to even the most astute of scholars.

The Witches at Blackbird Hill

Obviously, witches have been in the world as long as any other type of Mortal. Despite their long term habitation, however, comparatively little is known about them–little outside, of course, their application of “magic.”

Witchcraft remains hotly contested. Leading theorists continue to posit it as a siphon, wherein witches siphon divine magic that has manifested in the Mortal Realm. This process significantly weakens magic, but, through unknown communal processes, witches are able to amplify their gathered power.

Superficially, there seems to be little wrong with this. As historian of Circadian magic Aljera Rodrasma once wrote, “on the surface, witchcraft seems no different than the work of opportunistic scavengers feasting on an available corpse.” However, at both the processual level and the personal one, witchcraft seems, at best, dangerous and, at worst, immoral.

Various theorists of witchcraft and other magics generally see witchcraft as a corrupting magic. Arcanical ethicist Colm Vaspid claimed, in his seminal text The Environmental Ethics of Witchcraft, “it is not simply that Witches are diligent scavengers. While some may operate within this limited scope, greater witchcraft is inherently corrupting. Witches pull from the very fabric of the land and use its threads to stitch their own forms of magic. You may ask, how is this any different than divine magic? Systematic study of areas devastated by witchcraft indicate their withering and general declining environmental health. This is not a coincidence.”

Beyond the (debated) environmental effects of witchcraft, witches themselves have a predisposition towards violence. For reasons still unknown, large incidences of death often attract Witches who seemingly siphon expelled arcanical energy from the land. In ancient history, this gave Witches the moniker “carrion birds,” as they would descend upon sites of massive death.

This was particularly apparent during the Blood War. One group of Witches, called The Witches at Blackbird Hill, became notorious for their continual appearance during the Blood War. After a great battle, they would arrive. They are documented as an unusual site: a hoard of a dozen of so witches, wearing white gowns and flower garlands, armed with bronze sickles. They would float across the battle field, seemingly “harvesting” the air as they, laughing and singing, claimed to draw forth the very souls of the dead.

While this may be unseemly, to all but the most vigilant follower of Kasamei it is questionable if it is immoral (assuming their claims of reaping are even true). However, a known and significant contingent of Witches create violence and death to harvest their own powers: rather than waiting to scavenge a place of touch by death, they instead commit heinous crimes in the name of attaining power. The Hyrnedhnai, Mynaira, and Toto have been particularly victimized by such atrocious strategies.

All of this aside, a Witch on their own is no great threat to even a newly minted Devout. Their power is weakened through its process necessitated dilution. However, Dagna Lionhardt has warned against underestimating Witches. In a statement before the High Council, the Paladin stated, “A Devout is like a Lion, and a Witch is like a hyena. On their own, they are easily torn asunder by the lion. But, as their numbers mount, the lion must consider its nearest escape.”

But what of newer dangers?

These are themes explored in the following accounts:

The Strange Pursuits of Rodney McQuinn

An account of Magicians and the Philosopher’s Stone.

The First Excursion

An account of the first descent into the Abyss.

Glossary:

The Blood War– The upheaval in the pantheon started with Hyrnedhna’s murder of Mynair, resulting in the fall of T’rer, and the ascension of Behoden and T’zyri.

Dagna Lionhardt– A well-respected Paladin of Beodhen who has long fought against Witches

Kasamei– A celestial goddess associated with the natural cycle of life and death

Lionhardt– A longstanding Great Family in service to Beodhen.

Witches– magic users who seemingly channel magic by siphoning it from the landscape; the specific nature of their powers is unclear

The Cloisters, An Account of Changes in Faith

Some are busy worshipping the Gods. We are busy writing about them.
– Magister Pyrvain, The Cloisters at T’Gyr

The Cloisters at T’Gyr

The world of Circadia is an old one, and the histories span thousands of years of interaction between the Mortals and the Gods. Luckily, an order of archivists, The Magisters, has committed to assembling important accounts in The Cloisters at T’gyr. While often imperfect and frequently biased, these accounts are the most comprehensive histories of Circadia.

In Zealot, much of the in-game information, particularly teasers and background lore, will come in the form of these accounts. All players should assume ready access to these history books but should know that the writers may have had their own biases in the writing of the accounts.

An account of how Myr’naianesa of na’Malriel became the High Priestess of Nepheris. Mention of the Red Spring family.

From the Reconstruction Archive, 532 Sela

Documented by Magister Tyrus, The Cloisters at T’gyr.

As is known, the Blood War shifted Mortal and Godly allegiances considerably, though much of this shifting was done under the consequences of the war itself. Afterall, pressure from victorious forces hardly aligns with genuine disavowal of a long-held faith and much more closely parallels the necessities of failure. The reorganization of The Pantheon, of course, expedited declarations of “new” faith, and even Fallen Gods generally understood the defection of followers.

Nonetheless, there were Devout who genuinely found new faith during and after the Blood War. These accounts are held as testament to the Power of the Devout and, in matters of faith, the helplessness of Gods.

One account involves the controversial Red Spring family.

Hyrnedhna’s Red Spring

Prior to the Blood War, the Red Spring clan were ardent followers of Hyrnedhna. Oral traditions generally claim they had followed the Goddess since her ascension some 200 years ago. Indeed, the historical Red Spring matriarch, Deirdre Red Spring of Connath, is said to be the first Devout of Hyrnedhna who grew claws and antlers, marking her considerable place in the Goddess’s esteem.

While not all Devout of Hyrnedhna have been warlike, certainly, the Red Spring clan set the gold standard for warriors of the Goddess. Nearly every Red Spring (of note) has been a Paladin, and, during early skirmishes with The Corruption of the Abyss, they were among the most fearsome.

All to say, it was unsurprising that, on the advent of The Blood War, they mounted mighty force in support of Hyrnedhna. When the Goddess raised up arms against Mynair, they were certainly among the number making move against the Sea Maiden and her creatures. While it is unknown if they were present for the slaughter of Mynair, it is certain they were on the regular field of battle. And, indeed, when Beodhen declared singular war against Hyrnedhna, they marched at her side. Most impressive given that some of the Red Spring were but mere teenagers during the Blood War.

However, the Red Spring clan underwent a true change of Faith during the war. The specific event precipitating this is unclear, however it coincided with the incidental Mortal casualties caused by Hyrnedhna’s campaign. While Beodhen, then the Prince of Beasts, may not have spared too much thought for such losses (it cannot truly be said), the protection of his (self-proclaimed neutral) loyalists–Nepheris, Kasamei, and Steramestei–offered protection to those civilians in contested territories. Seeing the casual bloodshed caused by Hyrnedhna, who has only ever allied herself with the natural world, the Red Spring family in its entirety denounced the Goddess and defected to Beodhen’s side.

The Red Springs’ Choice & Hrynedhna’s Wrath

While this defection came as a surprise to many engulfed in the heat of the violence, those aware of the Red Spring leaders were sympathetic: the Red Springs had long served as the intermediaries between Hyrnedhna and the common folk. Their role, historically, had been to empathize with Mortals and, as Hyrnedhna’s Devout, ask the Goddess to consider how her actions might impact them. This was especially important when Hyrnedhna’s creatures–the Hyrnedhnai–threatened the livelihood of Mortals.

As the Blood War raged, Hyrnedhna spared the defectors no mercy: of the thirty or so Red Spring family members involved in the war, at least a dozen were killed by Hyrnedhna personally. However, the Red Springs fought ferociously for Beodhen and were the key combatants in a number of decisive battles. When the war ended and Beodhen emerged victorious, he offered the Red Spring family his highest Blessing and immediately welcomed them into his Court.

The Red Springs remain powerful today, and it is widely supposed that Vanya Red Spring, a daughter of the patriarch Alexei, would have been promoted as Beodhen’s High Priestess and Mortal Consort, but her ascension was blocked by the Lionhardt family in favor of their own (and decidedly platonic) line.

Such is a story of genuine change of Faith catalyzed by the Blood War and, more specifically, the actions of a God failing the Devotion of a Mortal. In this case, the change resulted in considerable new power given to Beodhen by Mortal Devout.

The case of Myr’naianesa, High Priestess of Nepheris and Mynair, is a bit stranger.

Myr’naianesa, Beloved of Mynair

Myrna, as she is commonly called, is a well-known and well-regarded lifetime follower of Mynair. In fact, prior to the goddess’s death, Mynair, the Sea Goddess, favored no Mortal more than she did Myrna–Myrna’s formal name, Myr’naianesa, is an old Circadian name, bestowed to her by Mynair, that means “beloved of the seas.” While Mynair lived, Myrna served as her constant companion, and it is said that she was told secrets kept from even Beodhen himself.

For this reason, after Mynair was slain, it was assumed that Myrna would announce her allegiance to Beodhen. As Mynair’s attendant, Myrna had long been a presence in Beodhen’s court and was roundly liked by followers of Mynair, Beodhen, and their allies. After Mynair’s death, and during the war itself, Myrna went into hiding with many of the surviving Mynaira. Myrna was not even present when Kasamei presented Mynair’s corpse to Beodhen. It is unknown what Myrna did during the war, but generally assumed that she was secreting away precious artifacts Mynair had left behind.

However, when the Blood War ended Myrna was invited warmly to Beodhen’s hall. A lavish but solemn feast was held in Mynair’s memory, and Myrna and some ranking Mynaira were the guests of honor. At this point, Beodhen had already claimed and offered Blessing to most Mynair Devout and Mynaira. They had, in turn, thankfully accepted his Blessing. Towards the end of the formal toasts, Beodhen made a grand announcement: he asked Myrna, as the former High Priestess of Mynair, to accept his Blessing and join him as High Priestess of Beodhen. He assured her that, as High Priestess of Beodhen, he would allow her to serve as High Priestess of Mynair simultaneously–a ranking High Priestess of a former God was something no Pantheon leader had ever formally condoned, and the offer marked Beodhen as more ecumenical than his predecessors. Most of the banquet guests looked on eagerly and applauded Beodhen.

One guest, Beodhen’s brother, the God Nepheris, maintained a neutral expression. Nepheris had in fact suggested the match to his brother: Myrna as High Priestess, allowed to serve both the Pantheon and a Fallen God, would set a precedent that might cool the tempers of Devout whose Gods had been displaced during the Blood War. Set on the romantic backdrop of Beodhen and Mynair’s relationship, it seemed, Nepheris mused, ideal.

Myr’naianesa’s Startling Reply

Myrna, however, shocked the feast’s attendees. Politely, she refused the Blessing of Beodhen: she stated that, even if Beodhen’s wartime passions were true, she doubted the integrity of his ascension to the head of the Pantheon. It is said that even mild-mannered Kasamei gasped (while Steramestei laughed), as Myrna explained that her Devotion would always be primarily to Mynair and the Mortals Mynair so loved.

As Beodhen started to fly into a rage, Myrna then turned to the Prince of Contracts and publicly committed herself to Nepheris. She announced that, while she would maintain her Devotion to Mynair, she would commit herself to a God on the Pantheon as, she concluded, all those still worshiping a Fallen God ought do. It is hard to tell if Nepheris was surprised or merely pleased, but he immediately designated Myrna as his High Priestess (simultaneously, and generously, retiring the ancient Odipos Rakes). Even Steramestei and Verine, enjoying the show, were speechless.

Of course, Nepheris and High Priestess Myr’naianesa set an important precedent for worship in the Reconstruction: their union is one that has certainly normalized not only worship of Fallen Gods (though it remains mild heresy) but also the political power of High Priests of these Gods. Even Beodhen, who has remained adversarial towards Myrna and her public embarrassment of him, begrudgingly admits that they are to credit with the post-war conversion of many Devout.

Along with the defection of the Red Spring family, Myrna’s story remains a significant bit of Blood War history. It has, of course, inspired many artists, and there are more images and poems of Myrna than any other current High Priest. While romantics claim her action was done out of a long hidden love for the God Nepheris, shrewder Devout suspect that her allegiance was hewn from a standing scheme concocted with Nepheris–the impetus behind such a strategy remains a mystery.

Myr’naianesa’s exact role in Nepheris’s life is now subject to much speculation, but, when he alights, she lives in residence with him, and they have been openly affectionate with one another. She has taken no Mortal companions.

Glossary:

Alexei Red Spring– Patriarch of the Red Spring family, Alexei died during the Blood War, by Hyrnedhna’s hand.

Beodhen– the King of Beasts who deposed the former King of the Gods, T’rer, and defeated Hyrnedhna during The Blood War.

The Blood War– The major war of the current age. The Blood War resulted in the upheaval of The Pantheon: Hyrnedhna’s murder of Mynair resulted in the start of the War and the eventual ascension of Behoden and T’zyri.

Deirdre Red Spring of Connath– The first Matriarch of the Red Springs, Deirdre is a near legendary figure who popularized worship of Hyrnedhna. Connath, her birth place, maintains a memorial to her.

The Fallen Gods– Gods who once were on The Pantheon and, for whatever reason, were removed from it. There are many Fallen Gods, but very few are still recognized by worshippers. Currently, only Hyrnedhna, Mynair, Gu’labir, Opix, Verine, and T’rer are recognized Fallen Gods.

High Priest– A God’s most stalwart advisor and leader of their Mortal assembly of Devout and layfolk alike. There is only one High Priest per God.

Hyrnedhna– Wild Goddess of Nature’s untamed aspects. A Fallen God.

Hyrnedhnai– Hyrnedhna’s creatures and beastfolk that blur the boundaries of human and non-human. They live outside of Mortal civilization.

Lionhardt– A longstanding Great Family in service to Beodhen.

Mortal Consort– Closest ally to a God, oftentimes a lover or lefthand chosen from the ranks of Mortals. A Mortal Consort may or may not be a High Priest.

Mynair– The Goddess of the Waters, slain by Hyrnedhna in a bloody campaign that ravaged Circadia.

Myr’naianesa– the High Priestess of Mynair that now also serves as Nepheris’s High Priestess after she spurned Beodhen.

Nepheris- The God of Contracts, bound to facilitate both the Pantheon and the Mortal World, brother to Beodhen and nephew of Verine.

The Pantheon– The ranking Gods whom Mortals worship, The Pantheon controls Divine Power. The structure of the Pantheon shifts every few hundred years or so.

Red Spring– A longstanding family of Devout formerly in service to Hyrnedhna, now among the foremost followers of Beodhen.

Vanya Red Spring– High ranking Devout of Beodhen and daughter of the Red Spring Patriarch, Alexei.