Welcome to Menevyr, a world startlingly similar to our own middle ages. Mankind sprawls out over every terrain you can imagine - mountain, plain, desert, forest. Might reigns supreme, with those in possession of power ruling over those without. Politics in the sense we are familiar with are unknown, and the general idea of a ‘debate’ involves two people entering with a sword each, and one man emerging with two. Tall tales of magic run rampant; though, unlike ours, Menevyr’s stories were true. Depending on whom you heard them from.
What all people will agree on is this: three hundred or more years ago, a council of ten mages ruled with an iron fist. Unable to obtain the secret of their magic, all those outside of this small group were unable to do anything but comply with the mages’ wishes. Also the standard in these stories is that the mages simply disappeared, all at once. It’s when you ask ‘how’ or ‘why’ that things get fuzzy. Some claim they were somehow assassinated by unhappy minions in a sort of mass coup. Other say they grew bored and simply left. And still others insist that they grew too powerful, and their magic ate them from the inside. In fact, there is some truth to the last two.
The mage council of Menevyr pursued power above all else. They had tasted it through their magic, and now their already-bloated bellies craved more. While they did succeed in gaining access to the world’s magic energy, they didn’t put enough thought into controlling it. Their power began bouncing off each other, and they were becoming increasingly aware that such a concentrated mass of magic would rip apart the very world they lived in. They realized, much to their dismay, that they wouldn’t even be able to spread themselves out across Menevyr. They had long known of alternate dimensions’ existence, but until then, they had little use for any of them.
The mages began searching in secret for new homes. Shortly into the search, one had an idea that would come to shake the very universe. These dimensions were formed in a way very similar to stars and solar systems. Realms that were relatively young, in a cosmic sense, were still malleable… with the right tools. And magic was precisely the right tool. And who didn’t want to play God?
After each had located his own ‘young’ realm, the council banded together for one last group effort. Ten portals were opened, to ten separate planes of existence, each easily manipulated to suit the new owner’s whims. They passed through these portals, closing them from the other side. Unfortunately, their magic was far from perfect, and minuscule trails of magical energy still tied each of these realms to Menevyr, however loosely that may have been.
Suddenly devoid of their rulers, the people of Menevyr scrambled for a place at the head of their personal worlds. There were thirty-odd years of turmoil while wars were waged, and those with influence and strength claimed the heads of cities, nations, or even simply villages. With that taken care of, the following two hundred years were amazingly prosperous. Conflict was commonplace, but rarely did it escalate to all-out war. Such occurrences also tended to be short-lived, with peace treaties quickly ending the violence, or one side simply wearing down the other. It was truly the golden age for Menevyr.
But now, strange things are happening. People are being stricken with an odd sickness that makes them pale and extremely sensitive to the sun, while retaining their strength. In fact, they seem stronger, other than the sun… and their need for blood. Scouts report abominations, creatures mixed together to form horrid monsters that only a demented mind could dream of.
Moreover, the world has been disfigured. In the midst of otherwise healthy land, there are large patches of barren landscape. Usually no more than about ten acres in size, they’re the perfect representation of emptiness. The land is simply flat, with nothing growing on its surface. The ground is rough, but there’s never more than a foot of difference in height between any two points on that particular patch. Even stranger is the fact that it seems to always be night. One could be walking in bright daylight, but as soon as the threshold is crossed, all that can be seen is black.
Those ‘stricken’ are gathering on these masses of bleak emptiness. Safe from the sun, they fed on those foolish enough to try to hunt them in their own element. Once the humans realized that they could not beat these monsters, the things, now called ‘vampires,’ began to hunt nearby for fresh blood.
Adding to Menevyr’s worries are other strange reports. Tales that the vampires aren’t the biggest threat. Rumors of a mage’s return are spreading like wildfire, and at least one town has disappeared off the maps forever. Many are reluctant to accept these claims, but everything they know has been shattered in the last few months. Who’s to say it isn’t true?
~List Of Contents~
History
Rules
Map
Profiles
Races
Story Updates
Magic
Language
What all people will agree on is this: three hundred or more years ago, a council of ten mages ruled with an iron fist. Unable to obtain the secret of their magic, all those outside of this small group were unable to do anything but comply with the mages’ wishes. Also the standard in these stories is that the mages simply disappeared, all at once. It’s when you ask ‘how’ or ‘why’ that things get fuzzy. Some claim they were somehow assassinated by unhappy minions in a sort of mass coup. Other say they grew bored and simply left. And still others insist that they grew too powerful, and their magic ate them from the inside. In fact, there is some truth to the last two.
The mage council of Menevyr pursued power above all else. They had tasted it through their magic, and now their already-bloated bellies craved more. While they did succeed in gaining access to the world’s magic energy, they didn’t put enough thought into controlling it. Their power began bouncing off each other, and they were becoming increasingly aware that such a concentrated mass of magic would rip apart the very world they lived in. They realized, much to their dismay, that they wouldn’t even be able to spread themselves out across Menevyr. They had long known of alternate dimensions’ existence, but until then, they had little use for any of them.
The mages began searching in secret for new homes. Shortly into the search, one had an idea that would come to shake the very universe. These dimensions were formed in a way very similar to stars and solar systems. Realms that were relatively young, in a cosmic sense, were still malleable… with the right tools. And magic was precisely the right tool. And who didn’t want to play God?
After each had located his own ‘young’ realm, the council banded together for one last group effort. Ten portals were opened, to ten separate planes of existence, each easily manipulated to suit the new owner’s whims. They passed through these portals, closing them from the other side. Unfortunately, their magic was far from perfect, and minuscule trails of magical energy still tied each of these realms to Menevyr, however loosely that may have been.
Suddenly devoid of their rulers, the people of Menevyr scrambled for a place at the head of their personal worlds. There were thirty-odd years of turmoil while wars were waged, and those with influence and strength claimed the heads of cities, nations, or even simply villages. With that taken care of, the following two hundred years were amazingly prosperous. Conflict was commonplace, but rarely did it escalate to all-out war. Such occurrences also tended to be short-lived, with peace treaties quickly ending the violence, or one side simply wearing down the other. It was truly the golden age for Menevyr.
But now, strange things are happening. People are being stricken with an odd sickness that makes them pale and extremely sensitive to the sun, while retaining their strength. In fact, they seem stronger, other than the sun… and their need for blood. Scouts report abominations, creatures mixed together to form horrid monsters that only a demented mind could dream of.
Moreover, the world has been disfigured. In the midst of otherwise healthy land, there are large patches of barren landscape. Usually no more than about ten acres in size, they’re the perfect representation of emptiness. The land is simply flat, with nothing growing on its surface. The ground is rough, but there’s never more than a foot of difference in height between any two points on that particular patch. Even stranger is the fact that it seems to always be night. One could be walking in bright daylight, but as soon as the threshold is crossed, all that can be seen is black.
Those ‘stricken’ are gathering on these masses of bleak emptiness. Safe from the sun, they fed on those foolish enough to try to hunt them in their own element. Once the humans realized that they could not beat these monsters, the things, now called ‘vampires,’ began to hunt nearby for fresh blood.
Adding to Menevyr’s worries are other strange reports. Tales that the vampires aren’t the biggest threat. Rumors of a mage’s return are spreading like wildfire, and at least one town has disappeared off the maps forever. Many are reluctant to accept these claims, but everything they know has been shattered in the last few months. Who’s to say it isn’t true?
~List Of Contents~
History
Rules
Map
Profiles
Races
Story Updates
Magic
Language
