Campaign of the Month: April 2013
Myyth Realm: Legacy
Lady Sorceress of Dunkeld
Encountered: Kingdom of Dunkeld, Verland (MRL#6 Revelations)
A beautiful woman, Mhari tends to dress in soft white robes and holds her long lavender hair back with an intricate gold circlet. Her eyes are a brilliant violet that burn with an inner intensity and fierce intellect.
Mhari is the twin sister of King Marcan and remarkably powerful in her own right, as well as exceedingly beautiful. She lacks, however, the subtly and diplomacy of her brother – preferring straight talk over bubbly words, which is, perhaps, a result of her lack of social interaction due to rigorous studies. Whereas Marcan is the extroverted face of Dunkeld, Mhari is the introverted brains. Although she has no lack of suitors because of her stunning beauty, Mhari finds no logical reason to entertain romance when her time is better spent performing research.
Campaign Note: Mhari and Marcan believe themselves to be the last of their people – a race of humans from a forgotten empire called Cambria. They survived thousands of years drinking the waters from a sacred basin to Allod beneath the Citadel.
Death: The sorceress sacrificed herself to cast a spell that allowed the Seekers to pierce the Veil and recover Pollock’s soul before the revelations destroyed Dunkeld.
I am Mhari, sister of Marcan, and we are the last of our people. We have endured for thousands of years because of Allod’s sacred waters, which are held in a basin within the All God’s most holy of temples beneath this Citadel. Our race was the Cambrians and our vast empire known as Cambria. We were cousins to the other great empire of our day: the Balsherians. As the Balsherians toiled, merging technology with magic, we – the Cambrians – perfected the three spheres: faith, logic, and the arcane. But as we delved into the mysteries of reality, we found a singular truth in creation that binds all things: the All God, the Creator, Allod. The Balsherians scoffed for their science had negated the gods and they had built vast machines. Then came the dark times, and the demons, and the war. The Balsherians fell but the grace of Allod kept the hordes from Cambria. All we had to do was accept Allod and follow the way of his word. We built his temples and enjoyed his blessings but, as time passed, we forgot his teachings. In the twilight days of our empire, one of Allod’s last priests – a monk named Miliel – came to our father and warned him that Cambrian hubris was dooming the empire. Our father said it was too late, though he did send us here, to the holy city once known as Qoth, to seek sanctuary in Allod’s last temple. And so we have remained for these thousands of years, drinking of the All God’s sacred waters, extending our lives indefinitely, all the while lost to a past and dismayed with the present. Imagine our surprise when Deacon Merle arrived in our flourishing city, saying he is a prophet of Allod and spreading notions to undermine our society. Was he a true prophet? Was he misguided? Was he a pawn of some manipulative evil? My brother did not know and he panicked for if the sacred waters should be corrupted, or taken, then we will cease to be. In this I know my dear brother was more concerned for me than for himself. But the revelations have begun, as foretold by Miliel so long ago. Which means the end is drawing near because we – the last of the Cambrians, blessed and chosen children of Allod – murdered his prophet and damned the world for Dyanys, the Death, is soon to follow.