The Isle Of Shadows

The Isle of Shadows

In the land of Weeping Treden, south of the Ancient City of the Ruby Lions and east of the vile and poisonous marshes where the cobra-men live, there is a valley where a long-ago battle was fought between gods, men and Exalted. Only Sidereals and a few gods remember it, and none even remember the cause for the massacre, but the great amount of death caused a shadowland to appear, for the nature of Creation to bend and twist to the aspect of death.

The beings of the eldritch battle-graves wander the hills, known as the Black Horde, refighting their ancient battle every night, having been reduced to dancers in an endless grim fandango. The ghosts seem to have forgotten the purposes and the rosters of the respective armies... one ghost might be on one side one night, while the next time the sun sets, he wears a uniform of a different army. As people who live in the nearby town of Three-Winds-on-the-Hill die, their ghosts join the evergrowing-Horde, helping re-enact the tragedy of several millenia ago. Sometimes, a ghost escapes the powerful call of the endless night battles, and wanders away into the Underworld. Many of them are still around in form or another, having never gained Lethe.

The Black Horde has been sent ghostly delegates from the First and Forsaken Lion to join his forces, but they were killed, mistaken for enemy forces by both sides. The Deathlord, knowing the Black Horde to be at least 10,000 ghosts, perhaps even several hundred thousand (no one has been able to do a proper census), has debated sending one of his own Abyssal servants, or even going himself to Weeping Treden to add the Horde to his Legion.

The region of Weeping Treden is named such for the Lady of Tears, a ghastly Haunt giantess who appears ever year, at twilight in Ascending Fire, and showers a small clearing in salty tears that make your skin pale and translucent. The people of Three-Winds-on-the-Hill stay away from there. Those bathed by the sadness of the Lady of Tears cry in the presence of jade, and laugh in the presence of hungry ghosts. The crying giantess is only one haunt found throughout Weeping Treden

The reason for the strange phenonoma of Weeping Treden and the Black Horde, is due to The Mark on the Isle of Shadows. Is he a Deathlord? None of the other Deathlords will answer that question, giving only silence. Is he a Ronin Sidereal, escaped to the Underworld to hide himself from his peers? Is he a No-Moon sorceror who has rejected the Wyld? Is he some leftover remnant of the First Age Solars? Whoever he is or whatever he is, The Mark is a sorceror of incredible power. He lives on the Isle of Shadows at the center of the Shadowland, living not in a tower or a fortress, but in a horrible realm made of darkness given solid form. The Mark himself appears as a handsome but older man, in a bejeweled gown of red silk. Somehow, The Mark draws power from the continual battles of the Black Horde, and the other Haunts (or are they enslaved ghosts?) of Weeping Treden. Their anger, their rage at their opponents feeds him and keeps him well sated. He happily adds to their numbers, spending his days on his Isle of Shadows, in his palace of darkness.

A rogue Abyssal, Crawling Stillborn Churl of the Second Birth, serves The Mark, in exchange for protection from her former master, the Silver Prince. The people of Three-Winds-on-the-Hill are kept in fear of leaving the area by the Churl, and fear the sight of her shaved scalp, riding to their town on a horse made of blue flames. Three times now in the past year, she has come and taken a child from the villagers, then reminded them that to leave the area means to join the Black Horde and their endless battle. Last time she visited, one farmer noticed the face of his taken daughter on the Churl's soulsteel gore-maul, screaming in terror. He killed himself that night, and joined the ranks of the Black Horde.

Originally, the people of Three-Winds-on-the-Hill settled in Weeping Treden when the shadowland was small, contained inside the Isle of Shadows, the clearing of the giantess and a valley where you could see the Black Horde fight. They had been refuges from the cruel atrocities of the Bloodied Icon in Drebb, where the zealous Order of the Jug had siezed control of Drebb's civil government, and were demanding insane and oppressive laws upon the entire populace. The people of Three-Winds-on-the-Hill, as long as they remained watchful of ghosts, and did not travel to the Isle, were safe. The Mark's power, having reached a breaking point, caused it to grow many times larger about twenty years ago. The Black Horde activities now surrounded the town, although the villagers nor their crops were ever harmed, to try leaving was madness, because by the time the sun set, you would be in the middle of their activities, where the Horde would barely register whether they fought ghosts or mortals. This land-locked Three-Winds-on-the-Hill, cutting them off from the Guild caravan routes. More than a few brave young women and men have tried over the pass two decades to leave on swift horses, to bring in some help, but none have ever returned. With the Churl now as intermediary, all who tried to go further than their fields would be found in the center of town, their skulls smashed by her gore-maul.

Not all is lost, however. Harrol Black-Fin, a Lunar Elder of the West, seems to have some not-fond memory of a First Age interaction with The Mark and has sent a pack of Nain-ya to Weeping Treden, to find weaknesses in The Mark's power and to ruin whatever plans he has. Harrol can only wave dismissively when asked what The Mark is, and tells the young Lunars they must discover it for themselves, and trust that Luna will guide them to the answer. To assist, he has sent them several crews-worth of Hulica, the cannibalistic pirates and raiders who make up the Black-Fins violent tribal following. The Hulica have made an encampment in a marsh outside the shadowland's borders, from which the pack may make excursions into Weeping Treden, avoiding the nightly battles of the Black Horde using their shapeshifting abilities. The people of Three-Winds-on-the-Hill were once nomadic refugees, and several of the pack consider if they can be snatched out of The Mark's grasp, they can be broken and remade into a vigilant and mighty people.

The last element of Weeping Treden that is easily forgotten is the Place of Shimmering Voices. A powerful Solar Manse that has escaped destruction due to formidible defense powers and controlled by an over-intelligent spirit which is bond by oaths to serve the Solars, it sits in the rocky hills north of Three-Winds-on-the-Hill, only a few miles from the edge of the shadowland. It is disguised as a rocky glen, it's entrance a small waterfall that fills a cool swimming hole. Decades ago, children would go to the Place of Shimmering Voices, where they would swim and play, and sometimes hear the babbling but pleasant voices that come from the waterfall. Sometimes, the children would hold conversations with the cheerful voices, The spirit has gotten lonely, and a few of the "children" in the village (now grown adults) are watched using the Manse's powerful weapon systems. If the Churl, The Mark or any power were to threaten it's "friends", they would find themselves held off for a short time by the Manse's defense abilities. The Place of Shimmering Voices, even though a mighty construction, has limited power and can do very little remotely for any extended length. Interestingly, these same children would make excellent Solar Exalted, and the godling of the Manse has mail-bombed the UCS's and Lytek's offices with letters of reccomendations for Solar Exaltation.

(I think the Place of Shimmering Voices (and it's mail-bombing attempts) might make it a good place to start off a mass-exaltation Solar game, where the PCs are those villagers who made friends with the Manse as children.)

--KingLeon