Fantasy Wuldir, a World of Monsters and Men - Lore

[QuestingBeast]

• Wuldir
• Altia

• Recall
  
  Recall then, the Time of Building
  
  
  (Lest we forget
  
  
  when hearth was home,
  
  
  when labor sweet,
  
  
  and no blood spilled.)
  
  
  Recall then, the Time of Losing
  
  
  (Lest we forget
  
  
  when first man roamed,
  
  
  he lost his peace.)
  
  
  See now, the Time of Toil
  
  
  (We remember
  
  
  our curse the Beast.)
  
  
  

  • Prophecy
  • Monsters
  • Peregrine Castle

  • 
    
    
    

    Heel's ForetellingOur world’s wound will surely heal,
    
    
    ’cause the Queen’ll come one day,
    
    
    and with one word from her fine mouth,
    
    
    she’ll bid our Beast to heel.
    
    
    She’s got the secrets in her heart,
    
    
    she’s bound ’em up right tight,
    
    
    and she’s got the crown o’ heaven’s claim
    
    
    curled tightly ’round ‘er head.
    
    
    The beast’ll cry, ’e’ll shout ’n’ mourn,
    
    
    but there’s nothin’ to be done.
    
    
    When Queen commands, with sure command,
    
    
    ’e’ll heed it, every word.
    
    
    “For every creature, claw, and tooth
    
    
    tempted, and sullied, made perverse,
    
    
    I demand your heart, your mind, your soul,
    
    
    to know only torment, to never find rest.”
    
    
    No, she won’t be comin’ with heaven’s fire,
    
    
    she won’t be gleamin’ like stars.
    
    
    No, she’ll be comin’ all in a mist,
    
    
    and we won’t know ‘er ‘til she’s gone.

    
    
    

    
    
    
    Notes
    
    

    • Often referred to as the Heel, the Foretelling, or simply the Prophecy.
      
    • Every morning, the Recall is chanted, and every afternoon, the Heel is told.
      
    • It assuages fear with hope, but most of the Inner Chambermen* believe it a futile hope, a superstition.
      

    
    
    

    
    
    

    
    
    
    
    *See Military under Peregrine Castle
    
    
    
    

    
    
    
  • 
    
    
    The scholars of Wuldir have categorized creatures into three wide-reaching generalities. They are the crawlers, the burrowers, and the fliers. The terms are largely used to make troops anticipate the likely battle formation, since tactics largely overlap within the three categories. The descriptions of every reported monster is recorded in the bestiary of the scholars, which is only accessible to those that may benefit from its study -- that is, the Scout Commanders, the Lionsguard, the Councilmen, and the Scholars.
    
    The crawlers
    
    are any creature found upon the surface of the earth. The four-legged creatures, the two-legged beasts, those you find underfoot, those slithering on the ground, or the ones lumbering in the forests. They are poisonous, sharp of tooth, and rarely do they approach the castle. The primary source of food for hunting Scouts are crawlers, and some less dangerous of the kind have been herded and cultivated in gated animal farms, though no beast has been tamed yet. The most commonly known among the crawlers are herds of snakes, horned hares, bonnacon, large ants, and hive wolves.
    
    
    
    The burrowers
    
    are any creature found below the surface of the earth. The scouts discovered them in the massive tunnels carved into the mountain side. The mammoth worms are most commonly the topic of conversation, as they are the closest and largest known to man. But Peregrine Castle recalls old tales of a great battle that came from beneath, wherein moles, rats, and large crickets in tandem assaulted, and that Roland and his men beat back, but at great cost.
    
    
    
    The fliers
    
    are any creature found above the surface of the earth. Up until these days, Peregrine Castle has been without trouble from this kind. Large eagles and dragons are mere silhouettes of shadow in the distance, and migrant flocks of birds travelled past, the worst nuisance a drop of feces. But now that the hordes of harpies has descended, new tactics by necessity developed to face their kind. Javelins and ballista to pierce and capture ten at a time, then bludgeoning hammers to slay them once they’ve fallen. A shield formation to prevent the harpy from snatching up the ballista on the high tower, or the net-throwers are put in place on the castle wall. Peregrine Castle refers to the harpy swarm as the greatest danger of this present age.
    
    
  • 
    
    
    Peregrine Castle
    
    

    Wildlife

    
    
    
    

    

    
    
    
    On the mountain of sharp steep rock, high walls of patched stone rise out the side. Caves riddle the cliffside, and forest awaits at the drop below. All to the east the thicket of trees extends until the mountain range bends back to swallow it. To the west of Peregrine Castle is a wide and rushing river that floods in the spring. Beyond that river are plains of wild grass often obscured by mist from the sea; snakes slither there in droves.
    
    
    

    Religion

    The men of Wuldir have no real doctrine, only they do have a storyteller, a Skald, who sits by the fire and in his deep rhythmic voice recalls their history in dramatic poetry. Old legends and tales of heroes are chanted by the storyteller as the fire crackles; these relieve the soldier's tired spirit and gladden his heart. They serve, too, as proverbs and wisdom-tales, often quoted to reprimand; for example, to the brash child is oft told, “Remember Roland’s brashness.”
    
    
    The most commonly told tale is of the hero Roland, who was a mighty warrior and repelled the burrowers when they assaulted Peregrine Castle. His crowning achievement was to make himself a diversion. He attracted the attention of the burrowers and had the cave closed in behind him, so that he could burn the whole group alive with burning oil, taking his own life in the process.
    
    
    Besides that, so far as the supernatural goes, Peregrine men believe there are three womanly spirits called the Fates that survey the men's souls in battle. The warriors that show brave self-sacrifice in war are marked to die, and the Fates take them across the Ancient Fog to live forever in Paradise, where the stomach is ever full, and the hand never rises.
    
    
    

    Military

    The Lionsguard commands, the Council judges, the soldiers hug the walls, the yeoman signals, and the machinists operate the mounted weapons. All men must serve except those who hold a monopoly on a particular craft or invention and have yet to have an equal in skill or anyone able to mimic their new weapon’s creation process. The women and children are taken to the catacombs below the castle when night falls.
    
    
    Chambermen: The term used for those that guard the inner chamber when the Harpies strike. The Lionsguard is at the door, and gives commands to the troops using the signal fire in the Center Tower. The Scout Captain, the five Councilmen, and the Head Scholar reside in the chambers, protected from harm -- even held in higher priority than the women and children -- because they are too valuable to let die.
    
    
    

    Daily Life

    When the castle knows reprieve, the children are let loose to play as they labor. No man is idle, all are either preparing for the night when harpies come, sleeping in shifts, or working on the forge or in the fields. There are always women caring for the wounded and managing the stores of grain and food. They fetch water from the rivers with scout and soldier escorts, but only during midday. The gate closes two hours before sunset, and is not opened again until day breaks and the sky’s all blue.
    
    
    

    
    
    
    
• Altia
  
  Altia, sweet Altia, how bitter are your roots!
  
  
  Once your branches brightened green in spring,
  
  
  now winter's shadow comes to roost.
  
  
  Poor, poor, sweet Altia, you've forgot how to rain,
  
  
  No droplets spread sweet, no morning dew's sprinkle,
  
  
  Your meadow's bleak black, your mountains refrain.
  
  
  Your virtue is guilt; reward giv'n to vice,
  
  
  Your laughter's made tears, all for Queen and dark fears.
  
  
  Bear the pain, sweet Altia!
  
  
  Smile past; it can't last!
  
  
  Black bleak meadows and ice rib rivers,
  
  
  they'll melt and bloom, so hold fast.
  
  
  

  • World
  • Magic
  • Hierarchy

  • 
    
    
    What Once There Was:
    
    
    Under the sane Queen, the land prospered. The fields yielded increase, joy was in the spirits of nature. Dancing and laughter echoed in the halls, throughout the world. As it was said in those times, our blue blood sings.
    
    
    What Yet There Is:
    
    
    Now that the Queen's sanity has broken, fear permeats every corner. She sees through the sun's eyes, and what brings her offense is any fae's guess. Perhaps you placed the wrong color flower on the counter, or perhaps you looked up at the sky a bit too long. The queen needs only name the crime, and discipline falls on the accused.
    
    
    Even so, the fields are green and the grain grows high. The ocean sparkles with water fresh, and the flames dance friendly across the grass. Beauty to the eye, however, gives little solace for the mind poisoned by fear.
    
    
    Nonetheless, for all their sorrows, the Fae never question their Queen. It is in their nature to agree she reigns supreme.
    
    
    
    
    
    
    
  • 
    
    
    
    
    
    
    The men call it magic, but the name's not quite right. First Tongue might be antique, but as a term it works, or it might.
    
    
    Magic is negotiation. Sometimes it takes a soft word, sometimes it takes a sock. In worse times, it takes a life. Not with mortal words is it spoke, but with the words from the heart, from the spirit, these influence, magic they invoke.
    
    
    The way of the Fae is to touch with their heart, to see the inside and with it take part. The words that they speak aren't the words that are heard; it's the thoughts from inside that connect, that are sure.
    
    
    For instance, the flame, if it grew more hot, in Wuldir the fire would be given some rot. In Altia, the fae, with silent words taught, would ask it politely, and for that they receive some reward more specific, more right for their needs. Flame-strands for their feet, or warmth for their face, sometimes a companion is all they seek. In any case, that's their way.
    
    
    Unlimited power is not by all got. Only the Queen may shake the earth. The common Fae, with bare hand alone, would not likely gain more than small favors like a little bright light or a fresh gust of wind. The elements are lazy, and not quick to please. Sometimes some convincing may be in need.
    
    
    And from Altia to Wuldir, some things aren't as easy. The world is quieter, the life less lively. So if a Fae were to ask for a favor, they'd need to be louder, and pay a cost greater.
    
    
    
    
    
    
    
  • 
    
    
    Thy Queen has made a fool of thee;
    
    
    she's got you in her grasp.
    
    
    And she's bound to keep her home in thee
    
    
    'til the hundred years are past.
    
    
    
    
    The positions of great power run in cycles. While the rest may govern itself, from the queen alone all authority derives. She holds in her council the Creatures that rule the forces of nature; the Great Eye that brights the day and closes for night; the Monkey's drool that rivers flow from; the wind from Sloth's sleeping breath.
    
    
    And the Queen herself is counted among the Creatures. The weather is bound to her mood, the earth to her will.
    
    
    Yet, she cannot hold power forever. Every hundred years is the Queen's reign ended, and her scepter passed to the next in line, the Named, the Princess.
    
    
    The Queen alone can name her heir, and what reason she has is hers alone. By merit, by love, by coincidence, all these and more can make the Naming, since no one rules over the Queen.