Beringia, the sinking kingdom.
First, you get the gold. Then you get the power. I could care about the women, I’ve had the men in the palm of my hand since I was 17.
Memoirs of Wealth, excerpt
The Patron Saint of Beverages, Hang-Overs, Regrets
Known as the Witch-Queen of Togaille, the White Lady, and the Liche Elfbane.
If you wake up in a field of green grass, looking at a woman of flesh and steel. Be glad, you are dead. If you wake up covered in blood and shit, be gladder still. For you are alive and your time is not yet come!
Cowardly maggots! Bow your thrice cursed heads and thank the goddess that you still draw unworthy breath!
Many claim him to have been of their own, be they mages or clerics, thieves or warriors. Such was the legacy of Atal, the Wise Councilor.
I walk a lonely road
The only one that I have ever known
Don’t know where it goes
But it’s home to me and I walk alone
Be it salt, wheat, silk or gold, money is money lad.
‘The bigger the brain, the smaller the heart. What do wizards know of faith?’
From this day forth, let this Kingdom be free from the tyranny of the gods and their chosen!
King Mapother IV quoting Provost Layton Frost
A composite calendar devised by magi based on the movement of the stars rather than the movement of the moon or the sun.
Maybe you should go find Outsiders, your kind isn’t welcome around here…
The manor on the hill? No one wants to live there…
The Repository of the victorious dead…
A land of witches and evil magic, a pox on it!
Darak One-Eye, from the Book of the Black Rose
Go forth to war my son, and be absolved of your transgressions.
St. Acre the Just, Confessor General
Born of an age of superstition and ignorance, the Council brought order to life and death.
A wasteland, a vast expanse of ogre infested, nightshade choked swamp…
The Via Mortus is not a faith so much as a collection of superstitions propagated by sorcerers, necromancers and con-men.
Father Pourvoi, Trinitine Priest of Lusankya
The food that eats you back.
Creatures of nightmare, the thankfully rare Mesnoi have unique form and attributes. Only one Mesnoi at a time will ever be "encountered".
In appearance, a Mesnoi resembles a walnut-sized chunk of freshly-roasted red meat from some uncertain yet familiar, edible animal. The insidious creature camouflages itself quite appropriately whenever it can, by slowly making its way amidst feast tables and trays of roasted meats.
Once eaten by the unsuspecting, the Mesnoi sinks down to the stomach, reforming if chewed, and begins to lap up the gastric fluids, digestive juices, and bile that it craves, like a sponge.
The Mesnoi carrier will experience mild to severe stomach pains during this time.
After a few hours of this (this is the only time that the Mesnoi can be purged with magic, or other mundane means), the Mesnoi transforms into its true form inside its victim, that of a miniature, once more walnut-sized, pot-bellied, devil-horned, snake-tailed imp. This horrid little creature then begins to chew and eat its way out of the victim from the inside out with its tiny, razor-sharp teeth, like a rat forced to do so via torture.
The victim almost always dies a slow, agonizing death. That much is certain. The devilish imp then exits its victim and begins its seventy two hour existence of mischief and malevolence, until it once more turns back into a hunk of roasted meat with the movement capabilities of a snail.