Sometimes a story begins in a tavern, others begin on the streets. This story begins with
"There once was an elven scholar."
In Arcani, the land of magic and mages, there was once an Elven mage, who had lived to the last whispering sparks of his lifespan. As an old caster, he had encountered many facets of society, whether it was the dark times of isolation, when Arcani had been disconnected from the world itself, and a single island adrift in a lonely sea.
Or the blessing that a connection with Betoros had brought - for no matter how uneasy the alliance, Arcani had forever been far too small an island to be alone. He had lived through that too. So aged was he, that he had seen many ages of heroes. From the first age, to the beginning of the fourth age.
From the beginning of the century of isolation, This scholar had sought other lands, yet - he would not scout the surrounding seas, nor did he seek magics of reconciliation. He did not attempt to rejoin Arcani to the world it once knew, nor did he participate in the hidden rituals that had led Arcani and Betoros to encounter.
Instead, he sought a way to pierce into the very arcane fabric that swaddled their reality. Believing that something lay beyond it, and in that something he would reconnect to the world once again. Much to the mocking of his peers, a mocking and jeering which increased after a century had passed and Arcani had connected with betoros and then Treddleton.
His determniation remained stalwart through this however, and mocking eventually turned to silence as outside forces no longer believed him sane enough to even reconcile the difference in reality and his belief. This scholar persisted 60 years more in his act of madness, until his body crumbled from age, and like his body, his magnum opus - a lighthouse - was slowly falling under its own weight.
Driven to the brink of his final year, the scholar made one final push towards his beliefs. Though he could hardly move, he scraped his empty coffers to pay some adventurers to complete one final task and test of his lighthouse. To empower it to shoot one final spear in which to shatter the veil.
Believing his funds too exhausted to pay for quality, and the lighthouse too decrepit and dangerous to survive, the elderly scholar found himself foggily sitting at his desk. His skin drooping and eyes heavily lidded. his time would end soon, he knew this. But he found himself regretting. The lethargy. The doubts. Perhaps there was more he could have done? Yet. With the obsession that had consumed his twilight years, he could bear no regrets. Only closing his eyes in defeat.
That is... until he found a great light pierced the fog of his eyes and mind. Suddenly, as if shaking the years from his body like a tree shook it's leaves in autumn, the elven elder ran outside to witness a great sight. A glowing lighthouse beaming an unending energy. His great vision and journey made complete by an unbeliavable sight. His knees giving out from under him, as he outstretched his hands to the heavens. A blissful smile crossing his face. And. Like a torch extinguishing after one final flicker, the energy of life finally left his body in the moment of his greatest success, to the recognition of only one woman whose voice was a soft "congratulations".
All the world is a river
Unceremonious, was the death of the Elven Scholar, but more immediate was the consequence of his actions. The opening in the veil didn't lead to the inner realm of the veil, nor did it unleash the horrifying spawns of bubbles nor the other terrifying creature held within itself, but led to another ocean. One whose temperatures were different than that of Arcani. As if it existed many hundreds of miles away.
For in truth, it did. Through countless stellar calculations, and predictions - the fabric of the sky being so drastically changed implied that they wherever this place led was far away, and more likely to be on the eastern hemisphere of the Mirage, on a northern ocean. one that followed it's own rules, with numerous islands separating it between that and continent.
This connection now made, has resulted in adventurers from foreign seas approaching Arcani, but - never one to take this lying down, the ships and peoples of Arcani seeking out these peoples as well. To learn of them, their strange gods, and strange habits.
