Lessons From the Grand Sage: The Beasts of the Cycle
Magic suffuses the world and all things in it. Sometimes that elemental energy comes to rest in items, as we discussed last. Occasionally, those magical nodes are not metal or crystal, but living, thinking beings. There are more masters of magic in the world than just mortals.
I speak, of course, of the Natural Masters, also known as the Beasts of the Cycle. Creatures of tremendous skill that wield one of the five elements as intuitively as a wolf wields its fangs or a bear its claws.
All are intelligent, in their own fashion, and are often sought for their wisdom and ability… or as a means to test one’s own skill in the same art.
The Green – Dagfolk
(art by Dinwardo on twitter)
Also called the Firstborn of Dagma, the Dagfolk are giants that take the form of trees. They are often considered to be physical Green spirits, embodying the power of wild places. Left to their own devices, they act as shepherds to ancient forests and reclaiming sundered landscapes in the Sapfather’s name
Slow to act, but fearsome when angered, the Dagfolk are content to guard their groves against interlopers. They are most often seen in the mist shrouded forests of the Fells. Even to the Dagfolk their friendship with the Felfolk is ancient and many trace back the druidic tradition to Dagfolk tutelage.
Being tree-like, the Dagfolk focus more on the negative Green than positive. They nurture plant growth, summon mists and rains, and it is said they can even command the hills and rivers if they chose.
Body – Unicorns
(art by @ohsweetsweetie)
The mighty unicorn resembles a tall and strong war horse. One with shaggy fur complete with a beard, and a radiant horn that acts as the focus of its power. They are often found in places where life and death are balanced, and life force waxes strong – the Magoean Swamps are known to be host to many of them.
There is no greater conduit of life force than the unicorn and this makes them among the physically strongest and healthiest beings recorded. A unicorn’s horn can pierce a knight in plate clean through, or carry several of the same upon its strong back.
But it is not the ferocity of the unicorn for which it is known but its skill at the art of medicine. Short of death itself, the unicorn can cure all woes that it chooses. Most lack the power of speech, but they understand it well enough and can be persuaded to lend their healing art for a noble cause.
There exists a corruption of the unicorn, known as the nightmare. Neither living nor dead, the nightmare exists in perversion of the natural order. A sighting of a nightmare is often the prelude to an undead horde.
Mind – The Firebird
(art also by ohsweetsweetie)
Little is known of the Firebird, for its unmatched skill in Mind make it more than capable of avoiding any hunters or lore seekers from ever laying eyes upon it, let alone encountering it. So muddied is its lore, that it is unknown if there are many Firebirds, or simply one immortal Firebird.
Legend has it that the Firebird will grant a gift of knowledge to any who can acquire one of its feathers. It is uncertain if it is the feather that gives the knowledge, or if this act merely impresses the Firebird. In either case, just as its skill at Mind conceals it from any it considers unworthy, free secrets are hidden from its divinations.
There are many tales of heroes questing for or finding the Firebird, but only one is known to the historical record – the Temple Knight of Lumanox turned Emperor, Aerimus of the Rainbow. In his quest, perhaps aided by the gods, he learned from the Firebird the cure to a wicked plague besetting the Empire.
If Emperor Aerimus has peers in his success, it is not known by the scholars of the Imperial library.
The Grey – The Atuins
(art by ohsweetsweetie)
Enigmatic as the Grey itself, the Atuins are turtles of titanic size and wisdom. So vast are they that entire islands fit upon their backs, carried about as they swim through the warm waters that lap at the Telent Triple Alliance.
They appear and vanish, seemingly at will. Sometimes a particular Atuin will vanish for decades or centuries at a time, only to return as if not even a day has passed. Likewise for those that they might bear upon their backs during their disappearances.
They grow larger as they age, but seldom are particularly large specimens found. It is theorized that the Mortal Realm is but their spawning grounds, and once they come of age they leave to swim the astral waters of the Cosmic Infinity.
Seeped in the Grey, the Atuins are often sought by sages and philosophers to gain their insight into the deeper machinations of the universe. What they hear is little spoken of and often troubles them.
Spirit – Dragons
(art by ohsweetsweetie)
Dragons are known to the people of the continent. As keepers of hidden lore. As mighty protectors. As blood soaked reavers. As tragic monsters.
The pinnacle of Spirit’s art, a dragon’s very words are edged with power. Dragonfire has become a byword for unavoidable damage, but they are not limited to flame. Each dragon has a preference for a element, with ice, flame, or lightning being the most common.
Despite their tremendous size, dragons are surprisingly light, and agile in the skies. Spirit infuses their very being, down to scale and bone. A hollow dragon femur will shatter steel brought against it, due solely to the Spirit energy seeped into it.
Despite this power, the dragons bear a curse, laid upon them by a long dead dark god. It is a madness that gnaws at their mind – a lust for domination, gold, and devastation. Some are born lost to the curse; others succumb to it over time. Others never fall at all. But it is felt by all their number. At its worst, it saps them of their intelligence and renders them little more than ravening beasts.
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Lessons From the Grand Sage: Cultural Studies (The Felfolk)
Celdos reveal, your grace.
To the north and east lays a land caught between rolling mountains and the storm tossed sea. A place of gray skies and mist shrouded forests and endless flowing rivers and springs.
This place is known as the Fells, and its people are called the Fellish, or the Felfolk. Since time immemorial they have dwelt in that ancient land. Even their tales cannot give a name to any home they had before it.
In its last century of life, the Empire launched numerous wars against once-friends. The Year of Burning Boughs. The Siege of Long Winter. But first and most ferocious of all was the Conquest of the Fells. Though it was never complete, the claws of the Empire raked deep furrows into flesh and bark.
Historically, the Fells was made up of twenty four or so realms. The borders and names change. Some have kings. Others princes or chieftains. Some are confederacies of tribes pulled together by common bonds. These realms fought each other as much as any outsider.
Currently, a third of these realms are occupied in some way by Magnians. Some have been fully colonized; others are ruled by the Marcher Kings, formerly the lords of the Empire’s borders.
Culture varies wildly across such a space, but there are constants to the churning chaos. All Fellish realms recognize the bard and the druid as cultural touchstones. The terms may be foreign, but they describe something known.
Bards are Mind mages and keepers of lore and songs. It is said that poetry sings in Fellish blood like no other and bards are the greatest proof of this. They travel the Fells, bringing news to distant corners and being gladly fed and housed by all, from the lowest peasant to kingly halls.
Druids are Green mages who barter and bargain with Green spirits on behalf of the Fellish people. Any village worthy of the name has a druid to attend to it. Some watch over the beasts of the wilds; others ensure the health of a region. Their wisdom is considered sacrosanct, scorned only by fools.
Abroad, the Felfolk are known for the crafts of loom and woodcarving, most of all the latter. When a great tree falls, it is considered a solemn duty to ensure that none of its beauty leaves the world and so great care is given to ensure its wood is used in gorgeous words. Fellish lutes, harps, and flutes are some of the finest on the continent for this reason – as well as their great war bows.
We could spend a year and a day in study of the Fells, but the candle draws short now.
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The people of the Fells, the Felfolk, are renown for two arts. The first is poetry – the bardic tradition finds its roots in the misty woods of the Fells and the only minstrels properly called a Bard are Fellish.
The second is woodworking. The trees are ancient and beautiful, and carvers take care to make every plundered branch or fallen tree into something as gorgeous, so that no net beauty is lost in the world.
Lona is a wood carver of some renown within the Fells. Oak and beech, yew and juniper, elder and silver birch – she knows the trees of her homeland down to their very grain. The crwths of bards, proposal spoons for lovers, carved idols placed upon Dagwos’s altars. All these and more she has crafted with hand and knife.
But her finest work was made for her lover, Aderyn. Aderyn’s mentor, a Dagfolk by name of Hynfwr Onn, gifted her a branch from his boughs. With love and skill Lona carved it into a bow of ash, a practical gift that would ensure her lover never went hungry – and a token of safety in a darkening world.
(art by dinwardo on twitter)
More than the races of Men and Elves make their homes in the ancient woodlands. Among them, tending to the forests like shepherds to a flock, are the first born children of Dagma the Sapfather. They take the God of Plants name for their people – the Dagfolk, giants that resemble humanoid trees.
The Dagfolk often take the form of trees native to their birth groves. For Hynafwr Onnen, who sprouted in the mist-shrouded woods of the Fells, he takes the shape of a great Ash tree.
Hynafwr Onnen – Grandfather Ash in the Fellish tongue – is an elderly Dagfolk, renown for his far sight and sage wisdom. Well known locally, he often takes part in Fellish ceremonies and festivals, and bears the markings and totems to prove it.
Like all of his kind, he is strong in the ways of the Green and gladly takes on apprentices from local villages, druids seeking to deepen their bond with that which sprouts and spreads roots.
Among his students was the half-Kwaychan druid Aderyn, whom he saved from the wolf attack that slew her parents when she was a baby. It is unusual for anyone to start their tutelage so early, but Aderyn prospered under the boughs and branches of the Grandfather.
Nationality: Fellish (Dagfolk)
Magic Speciality: Grandmaster of the Green