totallynotbezerk

Basic Premis: Low-Dark Fantasy with an emphasis on realism while not specifically being historical. Players are members of a small band of free lances led by Arturia Marnhiem

The world is a cold and dark place with long winters and short summers. The two kingdoms of the Midland between the slave-civilizations of the South and the barbarian tribesmen of the North are once again at war and it seems all is fall apart at the seams. Famine and disease plagues the land and attacks by the monsters of the periphery forest are more common than ever. The kings grips on their own land is becoming loose and vagabonds and band sack the land with impunity. Professional soldiers of all type wander the land serving a legitimate cause one day and acting like brigands the next. The war is drawn out into a complex and drawn out series of raids and skirmishes. While the religious forces of the order and their quest to to purify the earth of the monsters that now came it struggle to maintain their age old neutrality.

The environment is ripe for adventurers willing to go out and claim their destiny. You have all fallen in with Freelance by name of Arturia Marnhiem. Charismatic in the sense that she plays to your common goals and is a cunning and brutal leader she leads your small band. You have all been with her long enough to know she was not always a mercenary. Her forehead bears the mark of the order and her trademark axe was clearly not made for killing men, but monsters. In the wake of as some have seen it, the end of the world, she has seen a golden opportunity to seize power for herself and by extension you her loyal servants.

The party members, you make up her most loyal and trusted servants whatever has brought you to her, you have been with her a while.

Magic exists in the world but it seems as though it is dieing. The great magicians and wizards have died out leaving only their ill-trained disciples behind and even they say that the power is seeping away. Magical items and amulets once said to be common in the distant past are now rarer than ever before, even their weak magical power being the treasure of kings and emperors.

Humans inhabit small towns and villages linked by great networks of roads cobblestone said to be built by a long dead empire from the days when magic ran like water. Among the punishment delivered by the Gods for the Old Kings hubris was the monsters. Endless in variety and horrifying nature they populate the wilds between human domains occasionally wandering outwards to attack unsuspecting peasants

The Order: Among the varied religions of the land one of the most powerful is the Order, a organization which seeks to purify the world of the Old Kings stain. The Order is a recent addition to the Midlands having arrived in missions from far across the eastern sea more than two hundred years ago. Now having fully settled and integrated after fighting a few skirmishes and small wars to establish their neutrality The Order is now fully integrated into the Midlands  It is said that when they arrived they burned the ships that carried them and no one outside the order knows if they truly came on a mission or were fleeing from something else, or even if there is an order beyond the Midlands any longer, any whom can remember the journey died an age ago. Monastic and insular in nature there fortress monasteries are practically a fixture in any large town often replacing the keeps of traditional nobility. The Order takes in orphans and lost children often those created by the attacks of the wandering monsters and trains and educates them in their ways. They are divided into three separate arms, one militants made of Holy Knights stern to purge the earth of monsters. One of scribes and artisans to study and maintain the knowledge of the past and create and maintain the tools of cleansing and one religious which maintains the spiritual aspect as well as maintains the natural arts of healing which are closely guarded secrets. The Order is highly insular with layers upon layers of of secrets which they would prefer to keep, leaving the order brands on as an outcast and is strictly forbidden, once one has has their name entered into the tome of ages they may not leave the order, even in death the still stand the long guard. The Order is also a neutral organization being sworn not to cause harm to humans except when the order itself is directly threatened. Which has done little to earn them good tidings when they have stood by while bandits have attacked helpless villages or they have been sacked by opposing armies.

The Periphery: Among the outskirts of the civilized sections of the great kingdoms are vast stretches of wilderness, by and large they are uninhabited. These vast tracks are much different from the ordinary forests which lie between human settlements. It is said that the Old Kings magic has stained the land cursing it forever. Places a man can walk through look ordinary as any woods but soon after they seem afflicted with an invisible plague which no healer can cure vomiting blood and dying soon after others suffer horrific and mysterious burns after touching strangely warm rocks. Others visit and return to normal life only to have children who die at birth strangely deformed. Other strange cursed objects and phenomena can be observed for anyone to venture into it. Monsters of all types dwell within the periphery horrible warped asymmetrical creatures left as a testament to man’s hubris. Sometimes the creatures exit the forests, either by themselves or in great packs to ravage nearby farms and villages. When this occurs the call is sounded and the great Knight-Monks of The Order ride to cleans the filth. The control of the periphery and its systematic purification is their sacred mission. The most experienced groups of Warriors of the Order occasionally make great journeys into the periphery, usually in pursuit of some great beast that has fled into its depth or some lost knowledge tucked away. Armed with well honed skills and the knowledge of ages past they among the few groups that can navigate the cursed forests with some success. Other adventurers travel into the periphery in search of the Old King’s treasure and knowledge to varying degrees of success. Largely they end in failure but the occasional party returning with even the simplest of magic items continues to entice some.

The Lines of Lodderdiem, Huron and the Kingdom of Aria: a generation ago Alamand Lodderdiem seized the crown of the Kingdom of Aria from the previous regents. Before his usurpation Alamand Commanded the King’s northern army and served him well in battle bring much of the northern lands into the fold and impressing many of his former barbarian enemies into his forces. Alamand seized the throne due to a number of factors, the first being that while the old King Lugft Huron had been sickly for more than a decade and had left more than a dozen male heirs and equally as many bastards all of which were fighting a secret war over control of the succession. Using his already significant political clout and military might Alamand personally slew the King Lugft in his chambers and has tracked down and killed every one of his direct heirs although rumors remain that his bastards still walk the cursed earth. A league primarily of the old southern lords formed a hasty coalition to combat the Usurper and were promptly bested at the Battle of Verukend. While the coalition was broken over the bloody handed kings knee and organized resistance was promptly defeated many of the lords had to brought to heel by force. The Bloody Handed King’s army was spread thin to consolidate his gains. Alamand is now an old man but his mind and blade are as said to still be as keen as the day he turned them against his former master.

News of the civil war and Aria’s weakened state has drawn it into war with its age old enemy the eastern kingdom of Volacia.

The Wallenstien Dynasty, and The Great Stag: For as long as anyone can remember the Wallenstiens have ruled the Eastern Kingdom. They trace their line to the very end of the Old Kings reign, when their ancient primogenitor Armbrust von Wallenstien banded together a group of fighting men to ward off the newly created hordes of monsters. At the peak of their power they controlled nearly all of the midlands from sea of the east to the sea of the west their control was uncontested for nearly a century. The Wallenstiens had been taken by the sport of Monster hunting seemingly since their inception long before the Order arrived in the midlands. The great danger and practical fighting skill required made it the ultimate allegory for man on man combat, in many way it often surpassed it. Translated literally the Volacian term for king is 'Grand-Slayer' Eleven generations ago, that title and the line was forever changed. The Regent of the day Makulem von Wallenstien and his finest huntsmen tracked were called out to face a great and terrible beast. The Great Stag was said to have stood on three legs more than three times the height of a man and subsisted entirely upon a diet of human flesh. The Stag, as legend told hunted its prey through a combination of stealth, misdirection, inhuman cunning and terrifying speed. Able to mimic human speech nearly perfectly. It is said that its voice would mimic that of the one the person trusted the most.  Small children and peasants were often lured out into their fields or isolated places by the voices of their mothers or wives. Only to be impaled by the Stag's horn and carry into the wilds to be found as a rotting mostly eaten corpse several days after. Hunting parties were sent after the beast and soon became its latest victims. After several were lost to it and many outlining communities had been ravaged by the beast it then fell to The Crown Slayer and his armsmen to dispatch the threat. Using slaves imported from the south as bate after many attempts the Armsmen managed to wound the Great Stag a feet no other hunting party had managed. Tracking it by its own foul smelling ichor they followed the beast into its lair in the Periphery. A twisting network of caves littered with human remains in which time seemed to move differently and one could often find himself strangely turned around is where The Great Stag made its home. Leaving his son and the majority of his hunting party outside the cave Makulem led his most skilled Armsmen inside the cave. Once inside they found the beast began to pick them off one by one until only half their number remained. Makulem had stolen himself well for the coming slaying and instructed his men to do the same. When he heard the voice of his own son calling out to him Makulem knew it to be a trick of the Beast. As the legend goes he took up his sword followed the sound of the voice, torches snuffed so as not to discourage the Stag. Strangely he heard his own voice as well of that of his son, a strangely warped echo. As he came within reach of his heirs voice he lashed at with his sword. And, to his shock heard the cry of his own son and not the beast at all. At that moment the true beast lept from the shadow and impaled the Grand Slayer upon its horn. The Kings sword clattered to the floor in front of his disfigured son. With only one hand remaining usable the son took up his fathers sword and lashed out at the great Stag Mortally wounding it. As the King and the Stag fell to the earth both dieing the Stag spoke with its true voice and cursed the son and all his line to the same wounds his father struck on him. The Son emerged from the cave with his face slashed horizontally cheek to cheek across the bridge of his nose and his hand severed from the webbing of his thumb across the palm of his hand from where he had tried to shield himself. And when the new king sired his own young, the curse bore true and his heir was born with a mark across his face and a crippled left hand deprived of fingers. And his son was the same and so it has been for eleven generations. The Curse does not show on every son of the Wallenstien line, only the true heir who is chosen seemingly at random without respect to order of birth much to the chagrin of their older siblings. One such sibling took the rivalry too much to heart. He threw away the name of Wallenstien and took upon himself the name of Huron. He then married a peasant and revolted taking the half of the kingdom and the land's army with him splitting Volacia into two kingdoms More than a dozen wars of reunification have been waged in the seven generations since Huron turned on his brother and all have ended in stalemate.