Unremarkable Town

In the simple countryside of the Faelind Republic lies a town very few have ever heard of, known by the locals as Pendleton.

An unremarkable town, with remarkably unhappy inhabitants, the few hundred humans who live here are not the kind of folks you would want to surround yourself with — though it is hard to blame them. Their days are filled with long hours of hard labor, dealing with crooked officials, and drinking copious amounts of alcohol in order to cope with their lot in life.

On top of all that, they had just endured their several month duration in The Rignant Crag Citadel. Each year's Second Winter brings out Spirits and Monsters alike that claim the Wicked Woods as their home.

This massive forest several times the size of the entire Republic of Faelind also surrounds Pendleton on its Northern, Eastern, and Southern sides. This means that during these months the inhabitants must trade in their few hard earned silvers for shelter and sustenance inside the fortified Citadel, lest they attempt to fend off the supposed heathens themselves.

Needless to say, their treatment inside the walled city is inhumane and still staked with peril: undercutting rations, poor sanitation, burglary, abuse from nobles and nights alike— all of these afflictions accost the peoples of the Five lower agricultural towns that reside East of the Fortress— Pendleton being the furthest East and therefore the worst off by proximity to the Wicked Woods.

This unfortunate cycle keeps the poor in poverty, and the rich in power, these forces are further supported by the isolated nature of the region. The Rignant Crag Mountains have one tenuous trading route going straight through the citadel, cutting off any trade the Five towns might muster should they find the means.

But alas, all is not lost. The citizens will begin to return to their villages the morning after the Hibernal Winter Solstice, which is just moments away. This is the time where the sun streaks the shortest path through the sky and leaves the longest, most powerful night.

So tonight, we are in for a surprise, for there are eon long plans coming to fruition right before our eyes.

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It is a good thing to note that The Wicked Woods is home to thousands of non-human creatures of various races and levels of intelligence, but almost all are viewed as vile and beneath humans.

This inability to make a distinction between these different monsters is dangerous, but the refusal to learn the differences between the Astral Spirits that float between realms and the Monsters that must also deal with them the same as humans is deadly.

Due to Pendleton's proximity as one of the three eastern border towns to the Wicked Woods, Hauntings are incredibly common. This refers to the mixing of the Dark Spirits or other types of Astral creatures in places near or with humans, often ending with several harmed.

We will meet one such creature soon, it is known as a Boggart. Boggarts are a type of spirit that are bound to lay lines and other magical borders both created and natural. It is not uncommon for a low-tier bogart to possess the body of... say a black cat and take up residence upon a building, creek, or field.

These creatures can grow their strength through the manifestations of different emotions: fear, hunger, rage, or more benevolent emotions like joy, catharsis, and love. However, a spirit of any level is not something to scoff at. While a Bogart may take the form of a cat, it can still unleash vicious astral attacks that the common human can withstand no better than a metal blade or serrated claw.

In the Faelind Republic, these Hauntings are largely undealt with in the poorer countryside, which is similar policy among the many nations of this Continent. Fear is a very powerful tool for the corrupt, and where miseducation resides the Crictien Sect often holds the most power.

Crictiens believe that any non-human creatures are spawned from the devil and should be cleansed through death. They also uphold the magic ascension system that is implemented through schools in each of the countries that pay patronage to them through donations, land, and political power.

These systems of power have had a chokehold on this land for as long as anyone can remember, but something ancient and far more powerful is beginning to stir. This is a time of reckoning, and not just in Pendleton or the Faelind Republic for that matter, but the entire world.

The stirrings in the freezing whirlwinds tonight whisk two hooded figures into the Warped Woods, heading to the long-abandoned barn once belonging to the family of the Supreme Leader of the Crictien Sect. The world is about to meet what has been recorded in ancient holy texts as a Monarch class monster. The world is about to meet its Mercy.