Among the ranks of the white wastes and the endless seas of Plincy roam the hovercraft of the infamous religious mercenaries, Isbjörnarna. The side of each craft is emblazoned with the logo of a striking polar bear: claws extended and fangs bared.
There are three things, each sacred and bearded: Moon, Monks, and Moss. All connected. Tied together by the Monks of the Bearded Moon, an old order of healers, mystics, bearers of the secret knowledge, and inheritors of the Bearded Moon's gifts. Theirs is a sect full of mystery and bound by ritual.
The birth and life of a god through the long ages.
Two cultures at war.
They will serve up the Light to appease their dark gods.
The Mad Pope is a wandering mercenary. He is very well deranged as he considers himself to be the pontiff of the dominant faith. His robes are tattered, his mitre has seen better days and there are surely lice in his long ratty beard. What sets him apart from most addle-pated would be holy men is that he has armor under his robes and carries a large crossbow and several one-handed swords. While many would discout him as just another lunatic, for some reason, he inspires others around him and has demonstrated the ability to lay on hands and heal the wounded.