Changeling History

For months, signs and portents had been pointing to a dangerous time coming to the County of Golden Twilight and Radiant Dawn.

First, vague dreams and visions came to the seers. Tinged red with blood, they showed indistinct scenes of battle on the fields of the county.

Soon enough, the sense of dread spread throughout the land, even to those without the gift of foresight. Doors and windows were locked and double-checked at night. Folk hurried from from place to place as if afraid to get caught out in a storm.

Then the visions of the seers became clearer. A portal, opened from lands of great darkness, spewing forth creatures with dripping fangs and eyes filled with blood lust. At their head, a villain of old, once thought banished for good. A second portal, shining with bright light. No troops come from here, just a sense of strength and hope.

Defenders of the realm made ready their weapons and armor. Sorcerers laid protective wards wherever they thought it would help. A few of the common folk left town, preferring the risks of the road over getting caught in the coming battle.

In the final days, the seers saw what seemed to be the fate of the realm. They saw the opening of the gates, followed by widespread chaos and destruction across the whole realm. Was the enemy defeated? It seemed so…but at what cost?

The moon was dark on the night that the portal opened. Just as in prophecy, monsters poured forth from the darkest realms of the Dreaming. But the county was not unprepared; they had taken the visions of the seers to heart and planned as best they could. What forces could be assembled were in place to fight the invaders, but this was only meant to delay them. Elsewhere, others from the county, strong in magical ability, were gathered to open the other portal. The count and countess remained in their hold to coordinate…and to do their best to preserve the realm in the face of the prophesied destruction.

The battle was joined. At heavy cost, the invaders were held in place just long enough for the portal to be opened, blasting forth bright moonlight.

Slowly, those who were left regained to their senses. Instinct drew them to Summergold, which had been preserved (though not unchanged) through the chaos of the battle. From here, the fae took stock of what was left of the realm. All the other freeholds had been lost, though some hoped that Winterhaven might still exist in the Near Dreaming close by. Most of the Dreaming lands of the county had been changed so much as to be unrecognizable and all of it but Primrose would need to be tamed once again. Many kithain had also been lost. Some were surely dead, as their fall in battle had been witnessed before the Firchlis came. Others were missing, perhaps killed, perhaps drawn into deeper lands of the Dreaming or, like the landscape, changed beyond recognition by the force of the storm. Upon seeing the devastation, some of the survivors left to start again in a more stable realm. Landed nobles who had lost their bales in the storm were recalled to the higher courts, esteemed for their part in defending the county and waiting for new lands to rule.

As those who remained began to pick up the pieces, the seers of the county were once again haunted by frightening visions. This time, though, the visions did not show Golden Twilight, but another realm far to the south.

The place they saw in their visions was the Barony of Greening Leaves. The folk there had been dealing with problems of their own. The realm itself labored under a curse that had repeatedly driven its rulers mad. For years, the land had been saturated with banality and Glamour was very scarce. Those few fae who chose to call the place home struggled against long odds.

Then, suddenly, things seemed to turn around. Though banality was still strong through the mundane realm, Glamour returned explosively with the eruption of a volcano in the dream realms. The energy of creation was plentiful again. The duchess, who had previously made her distrust of the residents of Greening Leaves clear, accepted their plan for self-rule. For the first time in a long time, there was hope.

It was short-lived. The eruption of Glamour that at first had been received with such relief did not stop. The raw energy and chaos of the Dreaming continued to pour out, making the surrounding lands more and more unstable. Slowly, acre by acre, the land was being swallowed up into constant, swirling chaos. Seers in both realms made dire predictions of what was to come though their visions showed the danger, there was no hint of a way to halt the eruption.

Emissaries were sent from Golden Twilight to Greening Leaves, not to attempt to save the unsavable, but to lead as many of the fae living there as were willing to come back to Golden Twilight before Greening Leaves disappeared utterly into permanent Firchlis. Perhaps from the shattered remnants of the two realms a new, stronger home can be built.

The survivors have mourned their dead and said goodbye to all that was lost. Now they are faced with the task of re-taming their land and rebuilding the community. The past is gone, wiped away by the scouring wind of the Firchlis. It's time to move forward. The call has gone out for those with a stout heart and a sense of adventure to come to Golden Twilight to help with the rebuilding. It will be a challenge — but where there is challenge, there is also opportunity.

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