MitWD Intro Lore

[An Archmage gestures, his hand moving across for the entirety of the council room he is in to see. A gathering of light coalesces out of his palm, forming into a moving image above him to project the archived recording that was sent to him just moments ago.]

[A wizened old man in a stunning array of expensive looking jewellry and immaculuately kept robes yells something inaudible to the other passengers on the ship. A sudden rumbling causes the ship to shake, causing him to stumble and grasp onto a nearby wall for support.]

"Central, this is Morandor! We are being attacked! The Antilife Shell was bypassed immediately, what are those things!? Set up the contingency spells, don't let them onboard, if they tear a whole in the vessel we'll be sucked into the aby- NO!"

[The man shields his face, runes scribing themselves in midair to form a protective field in front of him appear, as an explosion knocks him further back into a wall where he crumples. Screams from the other people onboard can be heard as he attempts to bark out another command, before everything suddenly begins being sucked offscreen. The old man grits his teeth, holding onto a railing as the field of view shows what's happening behind him. A visceral array of organs and brutality is smeared against every surface as another crewmember is holding onto the edges of the window beside him to keep from being sucked into the abyss.]

"Dyson, hold on, I'll get you! Bigby's H-"

[An ichor, oozing from the abyss creeps its way into the ship. Dripping and black, darker even than the infinite void behind. It reaches for Dyson, who screams and struggles to keep his hold on the window. Morandor conjures a metallic, towering hand which moves to swipe the ichor away, yet it simply flows through the hand, uncaring of its presence. It entombs Dyson, his skin growing pale and wrinkled, his eyes becoming sunken pits as he gasps out, all life drained from him. Morandor calls out as Dyson's corpse goes limp, letting go and flying into the abyss and disappears. Morandor's railing begins to creak, before it finally starts to give in as well, uprooting from the deck as he begins hurtling forwards, directly towards the sickly, slimy ichor and opening out to space.]

[The image goes black as he makes contact, before a bright light covers its entirety. When it fades, all can be seen behind Morandor is the vast expanse of space, and tendrils of darkness kept at bay by a glimmering barrier, shifting through all the colors of the rainbow as he floats in the zero gravity.]

"...So this is it. I see... I understand. My theory was correct. The asteroid contained an amount of energy previously unimaginable, once we got close enough to identify it, this happened."

[Morandor coughs, struggling to maintain his composure.]

"Negative energy, the fuel of the dead, those who scorn the living. It's obvious by now why the Antilife Shell had no effect. Judging by how it attacked us, I'm sure it's sentient. Perhaps it sensed the living nearby, and immediately went to investigate. If so, then its presence nearby Nemuria can mean only one thing, I fear it seeks to extinguish all life on it."

[Morandor looks off in the distance, silent. He chuckles slightly.]

"I wonder how much longer the Globe of Invulnerability will last, ten seconds? Five? The moment it goes down... Ah... Fyrmvilde. I suppose... I apologize for what happened back then. Hah..."

[The glimmering field of light begins to fade, before it vanishes. Morandor looks back to the viewers, a silent plea for someone, anyone to save Nemuria in his eyes before the smoky darkess consumes him and he vanishes from sight.]

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You have each been assigned to travel to Bricklemoor for a variety of reasons. The most prominent of which is due to the world's academics bursting into activity.

Approximately six months ago, astronomers noticed a peculiar celestial body, far off in the outer reaches of the cosmos. Enamored with this. they began studying it from afar.

About three months ago, scientists identified it as an asteroid that was nearing the planet. They managed to send a small observation squad on a vessel prepared by a joint effort of the world's nations into the cosmos to get a closer look at the celestial body, and learn more of it.

One month ago, Upon breaking free of Nemuria's gravitational pull and nearing the asteroid, the leading arcanist came upon a startling revelation, the asteroid was radiating an immeasurable amount of Negative Energy, and intent on drowning the world in a sea of dead.

One week ago, near Bricklemoor, a small meteorite from the asteroid has landed, approximately 50 miles to the West.

Perhaps you've been sent by an Arcane College to investigate the meteorite for any clues on how to stop the asteroid's possible collision, perhaps you live in the town and simply wanted to investigate the falling star for yourself, perhaps you have a goal, and require the power possibly contained within that meteorite to further that goal. Nonetheless, you are in the world of Nemuria, starting out in the town of Bricklemoor, a small hamlet that resides along the Frosted Coast. You are currently resting for the day within the small hamlet before possibly setting off to investigate the meteorite.

About 10 days travel to the east is the larger city of Lakeshore, obviously due to its location at the shore of the Sylph's Lake.

Bricklemoor is a small town, of about fourty to fifty wooden houses, near the frozen wastes barely a week's travel to the south. Snowfall envelops the region like an icy tomb as early as autumn, and preparing for the winter early is a necessity if one wishes to survive it. There are a scattered stone ruins of walls and collapsed buildings, hinting of how it was once a much larger city. There is a ruined manor on a hill, near the edge of town.

The town's buildings are mostly built near a single, wide dirt road functioning as a main street that crosses across the center of town to the other side.
Bricklemoor has the most basic of artisan supplies and suppliers, mainly blacksmiths who can make crude farm tools and weavers who make simple, rough-spun garments with few ornaments.

There is a single Inn in town, its building appears to be newer than many others, made of many logs and stone and a humble two stories tall.