how did you end up here? like, seriously

Hello there! I'm Yuri. Long time dreamer and aspiring writer trying to motivate myself to finally get words down! Be it in the form of worldbuilding or just random snippets.

I only found out writeblr exists this week, so seeing this blog is for lore surrounding the countries I'm currently working on why not join in on the fun?

About me:

I'm a north-European cis woman in my late twenties with a love for D&D, fantasy and most things Japanese. I don't read enough, but I love spending my time homebrewing my own worlds and doodling my own characters. I'm currently in the process of writing my own elven language as well as an ancient celestial. Please don't ask me how that's going because I'm definitely not a linguist like Tolkien.

My favourite genres are fantasy, magical realism, science fiction and japanese fiction, though I'm open to anything!

Current Wips:

When I Close My Eyes If it were up to Yuki she'd rather just dream her life away. Since the death of her mother it's been hard to stay motivated, but even harder to find normalcy in her life. With her dad mostly at work and her grades being just fine it seems to her it's easier to just ignore reality. When one day her friend and classmate Sadzuki asks her to follow her to an abandoned wishing shrine, Yuki decides to tag along. Hoping to find motivation to write her entry for the upcoming writing contest she ends up making a single wish: To get to know her main character better before the deadline comes at the end of summer vacation. Little does she know, the trickster god of the forgotten shrine is desperate for new followers. And he's willing to take things quite literally.

Akira Akita Masago is certain: the death of his best friend Akira was not suicide. Having found his friend's body in his apartment some months ago, the former baseball player struggles to find his footing in life. This changes abruptly when he stumbles into Akira's younger sister Yumiko. Promising her to find her older brother's killer, the two set out on the case together, going over the steps he took before his alleged suicide. As secrets he didn't know his friend had come to light, Masago may eventually have to ask himself if answers are really all he's looking for.

Aasimar as a race date back as far as the arrival of the new gods. Back then their existence stemmed solely from relations between the gods and mortals, the former party being much more present on the mortal plane than they are today. With the chance of closer connections being greater it wasn’t unheard of that gods would take mortals as their partner. This, in turn, resulted in celestial offspring.

This celestial offspring would, in most aspects, look completely normal. They often took more after their mortal parent in traits, but their appearance would have something otherworldly to it, be it through having silver hair or eyes of gold. They would also often have a connection to magic. Many were either born a sorcerer or had a greater capability to learn magic. Other than that, this is where their connection to the modern aasimar ends.

Most aasimar born nowadays are considered children of Erlum, the god of peace, light, the sun, summer and harvest. As a contrast to his wife Ertys' cambions and perhaps also inspired by her, Erlum would eventually bless followers who served him well with the mark of the celestial, which they would then display in their next life. It is said he did so as a nod of to his first champion, a celestial born child of a god and a mortal.

Aasimar marked by Erlum are born with attributes portraying their connection with their god. These are most often metallic in appearance, such as golden hair or bronze freckles, but can also generally be a natural hair or skin colour differing wildly from their parents. Alongside this they gain an array of abilities such as summoning light, holy energy or even wings.

Children of gods and mortals also do still exist, though they have now taken much more after their blessed counterparts. Nowadays they are often the result of relations between risen gods and mortals. The risen gods, once mortal themselves, often struggle with leaving their mortal lives behind. Many may spend time on the mortal planes through avatars. As long as they do not directly interfere with the lives of mortals sexual relations are not forbidden, but the god is not allowed to care for any offspring resulting from them.

Cambions arose in unfortunate circumstances. Being the result of a contract signed out of greed or loyalty to the wrong gods, their initial appearance was marked with a mixture of disgust and hatred. Many born with the infernal mark were either outright killed or prosecuted. Others were banished to leave their home countries, left to wander without ever truly finding a place to belong.

Without fault of their own many of these cambions found themselves travelling from place to place, and as they did many would find solace in gods not involved in their initial cursing. It is in this way that large groups of these people would eventually find themselves in the neutral nature of the goddess Ertys.

Ertys, the mother of the night, moon, stars, divination, winter and death, brought a certain measure of confidence to these displaced individuals. Her path, in contrast to her domains, was one of healing and enjoying the moment whilst learning to accept the future. Her followers were often incredibly skilled magicians, capable of divination and foresight, and in her methods the cambions found a path forward. Naturally their devotion would not escape her notice.

Though it isn’t certain exactly when, Ertys would take a liking to her cambion followers specifically. Some tales point to a cambion woman by the name of Gialynne, who would foretell and eventually chose her own death for the survival of her family. It is said her act of selflessness moved the goddess to soothe her scarred soul, in turn making her the first celestial cambion as a sign of gratitude. Whether or not this is true remains unknown.

Modern celestial cambions come in two types: those whose souls were from the curse born that had their infernal ties severed, and those who were blessed by the goddess as a token of gratitude for their service in a past life. Both are brought into the world through reincarnation, and remain mostly indistinguishable in life, but differ in that the former will be reincarnated as a cambion forever, whereas the latter may lose their blessing in a future life.

Due to their celestial nature, cambions of this kind differ largely from their curseborn cousins. Whereas curseborn cambions portray the typical combination of horns, red to blue coloured skintones and pointed tails, celestials appear more feylike. They frequently have no tails, appear more faun-like, have skins like starry skies, or even feathered hair only.

Reincarnation is an integral part of life on Globa Attica. While gods do create new souls, most living beings have lived previous lives, a fact only very few remember. Due to this the phenomenon is not actually widely known about amongst the populace. As the gods don’t tell the living of the afterlife, it being a place for the dead only, beliefs on what comes after death vary widely. Some may believe or know reincarnation takes place, others merely believe in a heaven for the departed. As it has in our world, these differences in belief have on occasion caused conflict.

An example of a civilization that is aware of their continuous reincarnation cycle are the elves of the feylands. As their god, Aettyn, stopped making new souls thousands of years ago, all elves stem from the same cycle of rebirth. This means that their population can never truly grow past a certain number, and children are often born as fast as their elders perish.

While reincarnation is involuntary for the elves, as they often cannot reach the afterlife other souls can, other races are always given a choice. Some chose to stay with their gods for some time, serving as champions or aids in their domains. Those who stay (semi) permanently are often considered saints in the living world, and their depictions may be found in the temples, shrines and churches of the god they serve. This doesn’t mean elves cannot become saints, but doing so means cutting off their ties to Aettyn, an action that often causes the elf in question to be shunned from their society.

Many will never know of reincarnation taking place amongst them. Though the concept exists, it is most frequently a tale for the storybooks. Because of this, and the occasional belief in an afterlife, resurrection spells have been crafted and taught for centuries. As these spells are uncommon and frequently difficult to perform, it's not considered out of the ordinary that such a spell may fail when attempted. Most of the time, however, this is not due to a lack of skill of the caster, but due to the soul of the departed already having moved on.

Instead I'd like to talk a bit about the birth of Meredyl and her first mage. It's going to be a bit generic, but I'll probably expand upon this later.

The tale of the birth of the goddess Meredyl is fairly well known. Details have varied a bit over time, but all versions end with her being born from a thornless rose plucked by her parents. From her birth more roses would shed their thorns, eventually giving way to the ritual of Meredyl as it is used in marriage today. Then, however, it started a movement that would change the use of magic forever.

Those who witnessed the blooming and shedding of the roses the day of the goddess' birth were said to suddenly gain the ability to cast magic. The connection their abilities created inspired Meredyl to create her first threads of the weave, and with it she would grant many more the chance to study and control magic. While many were not initially a fan of this idea, those who witnessed her birth and pledged loyalty to her were unavoidable.

Among her followers of that time was someone whom we now only know as 'the first mage of Meredyl'. Tales of his journeys are many, somehow having survived the age of destruction, and described him walking the earth to spread her word by planting roses and sharing his abilities with the common people. As he travelled, Meredyl would be able to lay the foundation of her weave wherever he planted his roses, and when he died, she invited him to join her in her domain for as long as he wished to.

But I've also come to the realization that I didn't start this blog to be noticed. I came here to ramble about my world and build it brick by brick. So what if no-one can see my process?

Colour plays a fairly big role in most cultures on Globa Attica, this in large part due to their place in religion. Some nations even abide by the concept of family colours, a smaller part of them even implementing it in their coming of age ceremonies. Suffice to say the symbology of colours is strong. Be it from the idea of royal or noble colours, to others associated with accomplishments in life.

The first concept of this originated from the 'lords of colour'. These 'lords' were people who laid claim to certain ways colour dyes were produced, allowing very few to use it. In a similar vein schools, clans, and even entire religions would associate themselves with certain colours or colour groups. Some of these would be sponsored for their colours by a lord of colour, others would merely buy out the rights to use them permanently.

In current society the idea of owning colours is still present in a limited amount of countries. Most have abolished the practice, being spurred on by the advancements in colour production in recent years, but those that do mostly still assign a spectrum of colours to the noble classes. In rare occasions rulers may assign the use of colours to people as a method of knighting them.

My last memory of my mother was of her sad smile as she hugged me good-bye.

She was always sad to leave me, but that day in particular she seemed reluctant to go, as if part of her knew it was the last time we'd be together. Maybe if I'd known myself I'd have fought harder for her to stay. Instead I hugged her back as always and made her promise to come back soon.

But she never did.

Before I knew it I was on the streets, kicked out of auntie's house as the news of her death spread. People celebrated it. 'The witch was dead and the evil overlord was gone!' they'd shout. 'The hero had saved the land and now all could finally return to normal!'

They made her out to be an evil woman.

I knew better than them, of course, but when you're in a tough situation it's hard to listen to even your own reason. In a short period I'd lost the one person who'd show me warmth and the roof over my head. I was confused. I was hurting.

And so, like the others, I hated her.

I was lucky enough that no one knew we were related, she'd done her best to keep that knowledge from the public, but naturally I got in trouble anyway. People who once kept their mouth shut were now happy to retaliate to my kind. Somehow I managed to live through it, but not all cambions were as fortunate as I was. Still I had to experience the pain of discrimination and slander her legacy had left me.

Somehow, though, having come to terms with everything over the years I'm convinced my mother was a beautiful woman.

She wasn't too tall, her pale skin having a pink undertone that spread to her horns, gentle freckles underlining her large yellow eyes that were contrasted by long black hair framing her round face. Like myself she was a celestial cambion, carrying with her a knowledge and air of mystery that only a blessing of Ertys could grant someone.

When I was younger I was convinced she was a fairy for some time, a walking personification of the night sky, and as she'd play me piano I'd often loose myself in the movement of her hands on the keys. The melody she'd play always left me with a sense of sadness, most of the time it'd lull me to sleep, only to find her gone by the time I'd wake up.

I still dream about it a lot: Me sitting in her lap as she plays me that melody again. But, ass she gets close to the end, I find that I'm the one playing it. My mother is gone, and in her place I'm the one who has to carry on playing by myself.

At least, that used to be the case, but now I often find Danny sitting next to me, staring at me with her green eyes full of wonder.

The birth of Meredyl, and the subsequent creation of the weave, brought a large amount of new power to the world. Its creation was well intentioned, but the destruction it would cause in its wake remained largely unforseen. Many mortals fought for influence as their power grew through it, but so did the gods that resided over them. Due to the ease at which magic could be cast gods gained further connections to their followers, as did they gain the ability to further bless souls who served them well. Originally this merely created new roles for mortals to serve: Clerics and paladins became the norm for worshippers over the original warlock class, and those who did their job well could receive boons of power. Eventually, though, this would also kickstart the creation of the first corrupted race with the fall of Bjenn.

Bjenn was, originally, a fairly merciful god as texts describe him. He presided over both the domains of harmony and protection, and had gained a large following spanning multiple countries in a relative short amount of time. His already questionable methods would grow more and more corrupt as his power grew with the creation of the weave, however.

As his alignment shifted, so did the intentions of his followers and the nature of his blessings. Those under his blessing would eventually give birth to children of odd skin with horns and tails of netherfire. The original response to this was vile, with children either killed or exiled. As his corruption grew, however, so did the amount of children of netherfire. Eventually, no other humanoid would be born amongst his following, and Bjenn fell from grace.

His corruption wasn't the only one, with gods warring amongst themselves for power and balance as their new world slowly started to crumble. Cursing each others' followers to gain the overhand was common practice, from which some races further split apart. There are a handful of species thought to stem from this conflict, namely the voiceless Kenku and the Kobolds, whose existence has persisted untill today. These wars, however, were far less corruptive as the overuse of magic would turn out to be.

With more power the use of elemental forces boomed. Their use was convenient in a pinch, destructive in war, and would overrule large armies quickly. Not many could cast spells of this nature on a great scale, but some mages were exceptionally powerful, tapping into the very elemental planes to access this power. This didn't prove problematic until eventually rifts between the planes started forming, infecting our home plane with elemental forces and corrupting those who had abused their forces, and eventually giving rise to the genasi. In contrast to the Cambions, however, this was not seen as a curse, but instead proof of one's immense magical prowess. Genasi climbed ranks easily due to their looks alone, and emboldened by their visage, would further drain the magical energy and weaken the veil between the planes.

Which then brought into motion the appearance and growth of deadzones.

While initially worrisome, the existence of deadzones was largely seen as merely an inconvenience and a weakness of the earth. As life in the areas grew brittle and the people in it died of illnesses that seemed incurable, people fled or persisted out of stubbornness. While the effect of these deadzones was unavoidable, what no one expected was the way it would affect fey races that lived in it's vicinity.