Creating a game world from scratch is one of the most fraught undertakings that any GM can consider, and this post is mostly a chance for me to self-indulgently reminisce about one that I started over a decade ago.
When 3rd Edition D&D launched, I wanted to create something new, and so the Feldenglas chronicle was born. It traveled with me through my remaining college semesters, evolved during my years working at the Games Workshop headquarters in Maryland, and reached culmination in its own annihilation and apotheosis in the summer of 2005. Here's a piece I wrote back in 2008, when 4th Edition prompted me to look at this world with fresh eyes:
Our home is a thriving place. The barony of Feldenglas is
situated on a bright and shining bay. We have a wise baron, rich
countryside, and growing trade influence with the other baronies.
Castle Feldenglas sits perched at the heart of our town, atop a pinnacle
of rock scorched in ages past by some great conflagration. The Church
of Ea is ever-vigilant for the safety of men’s souls, advising spiritual
purity and promising heavenly reward.
How would the Cardinal
react, I wonder, if he knew that this world had already died once? How
would he reconcile his doctrine of the ascendance of the mortal soul
with the truth of the world’s reincarnation?
Would his faith
be shaken, I wonder, if he knew that Merciful Ea was at the heart of
the world’s destruction? Few have heard the truth, but I know that Ea,
Lord in Heaven, betrayed his celestial brethren and claimed the world
for his own. When he was stricken low, the world was unmade. The words
were spoken, and where once there was one, there is again many. Now,
eons after the fall of Lord Ea, these mighty lands of Cae Lyndyr are
still being reborn.
Beyond the villages and fields, the
primordial world is still grinding itself together and apart. The race
of men carries on unconcerned, and while alliances rise and nations
fall, the naïve forests and tall young mountains seethe with the
reincarnated memories of their timeless heritage. Beyond the sight of
men, the wild is both young and vibrant, and unknowably ancient.
Though merciful Ea may protect us from the predations of infernal
sorcerers, it is simple country wisdom that keeps us safe from the fae
folk. Bowls of milk beside the back door, or fresh loaves of bread at
roadside shrines, or even a copper coin tossed into a sacred well. Only
the most arrogant or foolish would call these superstitions. I have
seen fields become fallow, cows dry up, and children stricken with the
ague in villages where the proper offerings are not made. I have known
men to return from their travels with tales of beautiful elf-maidens,
and women to birth children with distant sight and strange gifts. With
my own eyes, I have beheld a wagon driven by one of the Neisse, laden
with crafted goods so clever that no mortal hand could ever duplicate
them.
In many hidden places, the memories of the ancient
world linger on. Sailors bring tales of ruined empires, outlandish
people, and places where sorcerers declare their hellish allegiances
without fear of reprisal. Some claim to have seen giants in the hills,
or conversed with the dead on moonless nights. The narrow reality of
the city streets and temple walls cannot explain the mysteries and
wonders discovered by those with the courage to look beyond the
palisades. The songs of the Gods have given these lands new life, but
it is the toil of mortals that will shape it for ages to come.
The
Feldenglas Chronicle is a game that has gone through numerous
incarnations. It was originally conceived in the Fall of 2000, when
Wizards of the Coast launched D&D 3rd edition. Initially a gritty,
medieval, low-magic setting, the world was plunged into an apocalyptic
war between the Heavenly Hosts of Ea and the Infernal Minions of the
Nine Lords of Hell. The first chapter in the story ended with one of
the player characters becoming the primary antagonist, opportunistically
grasping at the remains of the barony of Feldenglas and setting it up
as an infernal bastion. The remaining members of the party managed to
secure safe harbor for the refugees of the so-called Saint’s War, ending
the story on a wonderfully ambiguous note.
The second chapter
began in the winter of 2003, featuring a majority of new players and
characters. As the story unfolded, the characters learned that Ea was a
traitor to the other Gods, and had stolen the world from them and
remade it in his own image. As Ea prepared for the final battle that
would prove to himself his own superiority, the heroes found a way to
force him to become bound to his mortal form. They were then able to
kill him. In the singularity of Ea’s destruction, the world was again
unmade. The other Gods were awakened, and Ea’s arrogance and betrayal
were forgiven. The story ended with the Gods preparing to sing their
songs again.
Now, Cae Lyndyr is reborn, and with it the Barony of
Feldenglas. It will continue to have a more historical flavor than
most D&D settings, roughly corresponding to 12th-century Europe, but
it will be heavily tinged with the Mythopoetic. There are
superlative places that are clearly more than their mundane
counterparts, like faerie-paradise forests, or mountains twelve miles
high, topped with eternal winter. Mythic, supernal elements are
present, but they will often be at odds with human civilization, by
accident or design. The player characters are almost always be human,
but Wizards are no longer unheard of, Clerics may serve deities other
than Ea, and fathers may pass heirloom Neisse-forged swords to their
sons. The emphasis is on exploration and wonder, conflict between
the rational and the supernal, and the burdens and responsibility of
those who are willing to truly begin to see the world outside their own
front door.
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