PrinceCon 39 Wrap-up and Postscript

Wrap-up

In the long time gone before times, a great and terrible empire rose up that cast all under its shadow. Those that were deemed unworthy by the rulers of the empire were hunted and ruthlessly exterminated. Just as the final dominion of the empire was assured, a desperate band of mystics, shamans, clerics, wizards, magi and scientists gathered together and called forth a power from the beginning of the world, a force to change the world and reshape the darkness into a place where people could start fresh, a new world free of the rules of the empire.

Whether they did not understand what they unleashed, if something went wrong, or if the empire found them as they completed their work, we will never know, for what came next was the Night of No Stars. It is impossible to say how long this lasted, some say one night, some say forty, all that is certain is that afterwards the world was changed beyond recognition and nothing and no place was safe.

Since the time of our grandfather’s grandfathers we sheltered in Idyllican Valley, trusting in the Laws of Salvation to protect us from the terrors of the wastelands. We learned to deal with each other, to celebrate the differences between human, dwarf, elf and hobbit, bound together in survival. But then disaster came upon us and we were driven forth. More than forty thousand people lived in the Valley, but when the mountains erupted in fire, we were decimated and only a remnant of a remnant escaped alive. Four thousand refugees left our home, wandering in the wastelands chasing the dream of safety to the west.

Many died of starvation, many more from the monsters we met in our travels. Our heroes, the strong, the wise and the clever, led us in fighting off the terrible creatures sent by Sitriph, helping us learn to accept the horrific changes we endured as the magic of the wastes washed through us. Some found ancient temples of knowledge to give us understanding; others found strange allies that once we would have feared.

We thought we had reached our final end when the Shroud Wall, that enigmatic white mist that had come over the land during the Night of No Stars, was about to sweep us before it as we huddled in the enigmatic structure of the ancients. Most of our heroes were away breaking the power of the villainous Army of Salvation and clearing the sanctuary of Sitriph for us, but we could not reach those walls we had struggled so to find.

But at the last moment, the strange machines were deciphered and we were able to be magically transported into the catacombs of Sitriph! Even as the Shroud fell over us, our heroes put forth an ultimate effort, several of them falling as they did so, to reinforce the walls and keep us safe. Almost half of the refugees had died on the march, but between the survivors, the allies that joined us, and a collection of animals saved by the Gaians, we packed Sitriph to the very brim.

And well for us all that we did so, for when the Shroud had passed on, all that had been was gone. The world was clean and new, our walls had turned into mountains surrounding us like a mothers arms, what was once endless sea now plains and forests ready to be repopulated. It may be that some others survived in other shelters; we must reach out and find a way for us to shape this fresh world into the world we wish our children to live in.

Postscript - Distant Emergence

The new world is at peace. The credits have rolled. We fade to black.

The sun dawns over the horizon onto a lush field of wildflowers. A light breeze blows slightly and causes the wild colors of the flowers to dance. A long twisted ceramic box juts from the earth at an odd angle. It is laced profusely with white threads. A large black tree protrudes from one side of the box and odd plants sprout from its surface as if stone is as good a medium as earth.

All is calm. The wind stirs lazily on the spring morning. Suddenly a faint sound can be heard coming from within the box. It grows steadily louder until its eerie song can be recognized as flute music.

The music seems to coalesce into the spirit forms of two warriors. Each ghost bears the mark of two mountains with a key between them, the symbol of the Idyllican Valley. The primordial energies of the field seem to latch onto the spirits and flesh seems to form about the lost souls. One warrior is clothed in the flesh of a great bear possessing long claws. The other man is transformed into a large black bull with long pointed horns. Using claw and horn, they pry the lid off easily. The original locking mechanisms had turned to ash under the influence of the wild magic of The Shroud.

A young elf sits up slowly and the two creatures help him stand. His wrinkles were washed away along with the old dead world. He blinks at the light of the new dawn and sets the odd flute to his lips once again. Through the wood, bone, and glass of his flute a soft melody rises as he exhales into the mouthpiece next to the image of the golden bough, the symbol of Samedhi. More spirits emerge, such as a young dwarven child, a hobbit beggar, a human blacksmith, an elven wizard woman and too many more to count. They were the ones caught in the collapse of the Idyllican Valley. As each emerges their spirits are wrapped in flesh of one kind or another. They wore bodies of uncorrupted animals such as snakes, birds, and insects, and other stranger things. Those odd ones were legendary things described as living more than a thousand years before even the Age of Wonder. They all wore their new bodies like a favorite set of clothes.

They gathered in the emerging dawn light and in the shadow of the single twisted tree and talked with each other until they saw the radiant elf standing alone on the sarcophagus. They all quieted and Magistrate Nicholai Zed spoke. His young voice was strong and powerful yet oddly melodious as he spoke to the menagerie assembled before him.

“Thank you all for bearing with me. First let me say you are all look…wondrous. We have all seen our share of destruction and death and for that I must apologize. But the time for destruction is over. We are all reborn to go forth into this virgin land and shape it into a true paradise. Let the gods see they have spared us for a grand purpose. Come here to this stone ‘ship’ of salvation. Let us all embrace as brothers and sisters. Let us all hear each others' voices, for this is not my world nor is it yours. It is ours. Let this box be our council table and this tree be our roof, for this is a dawn of the greatest age yet.”

The talk began. The voice of the mole was no less heard than that of the elephant or the even the fiery drake. The sun grew high and then started to descend in the sky and none of them hungered. The elf added his voice and they all listened. With their discussions nearly over, the sun set over the first council in the reborn world. Their silhouettes mingled and moved in front of the red glow over the western horizon.

Fade to black again.

PrinceCon 39 Summaries & Run Recaps: