The Winnowing

The actual fall of Euliess revolved around the discovery and subsequent "worship" of the Yaerwhyl, ancient spirits living among the artisans and creatives of Euliess. To scholars of the later ages, the resultant catastrophy was called the "Winnowing," named after the insurmountable apathy and isolation which claimed Euliess' inhabitants.
Very little definite information exists regarding the Yaerwhyl, though it is known that long before the creation of Assethei, the Dreams of Liberation, when most people desperately sought concepts and beings worthy of worship, one small group of disagreeable spirits swore loyalty to the Pale Longflesh, an outcast serpent-scholar of the west. The reason for their sudden subservience is uncertain, though it is know that they were shortsighted, obsessed solely with personal might and individualism, existing as a loose hierarchy of religious clans.
Regardless, these beings knew little of Pale Longflesh, who had himself been cast away from his brothers, bound in his own skin and drowned in sorrow. Consumed by endless solitude, Longflesh had become a myth among the ancients of Assethei, known to offer power and knowledge which, while beneficial in the short term, inevitably led to total isolation. Those afflicted by his lonely mourning were called "Candles" referring to how their immortal spirits would burn cool and alone amidst a sea of wax, unrecognisable and tragically intangible, a world lost to them.
Euliess, a nation of creative spirits built in the heartlands of Assethei's wilderness, became a natural resting place for these Yaerwhyl, their desire to connect with others transforming them into enigmatic muses for the feverous artists of the land. Taking the shape of strange lights and pale shadows, the Yaerwhyl were just one of many phenomena native to Assethei's unbound chaos. In time however, Pale Longflesh, now known by some records as the Betrayer or the Betrayed, was awake once more, his weeping saturating Euliess with an uncanny mist for centuries. In his sorrow, the Betrayer's cruel bargain rose once more, whispering through the Yaerwhyl, hinting at their true nature to those who listened to closely, seeking inspiration in their loneliness.
Captured by this bitter calling, the mad folk of Euliess accepted the contract without words or breath, their minds drawn inwards, becoming the wick which led to their newly sculpted fates. Almost simultaneously they fell into themselves, isolating further and further into their crafts, shaping and carving and crafting until their work was as clay. Their once-bright minds sharpened into a single flickering point, unable to see or hear one another, unable to stop. So Euliess fell, flooded in wax and stained in tears, its people becoming as the Yaerwhyl they had once followed.
Some of course resisted, realised what was happening, tried to flee their silenced homeland. Some called close their families, others tried to warn the city councils, but even this drew them away, led them fluttering towards the arctic lights of obsession, freezing them into singular purpose. Acts of resistance slowly melted into acts of perfecting, the meaning behind the world and one's role in it fading into the darkness, illuminated only occasionally by the confused, shining eyes of the Yaerwhyl.
And at last, as the last great tinkerer of Euliess withdrew, locking themselves away in a sinking workshop of clay and wax, did the great masterpieces of the land also fall, fading away into memory and beyond, lost in the deep fog of forgetting. When the last spire of Euliess fell, all that remained, towering around it, were candles[Euliess, The Lonely Land](location:c248d3e8-6ee3-4b5e-ab20-2011e3e85c03) revolved around the discovery and subsequent "worship" of the Yaerwhyl, ancient spirits living among the artisans and creatives of Euliess. To scholars of the later ages, the resultant catastrophy was called the "Winnowing," named after the insurmountable apathy and isolation which claimed Euliess' inhabitants.
Very little definite information exists regarding the Yaerwhyl, though it is known that long before the creation of Assethei, the Dreams of Liberation, when most people desperately sought concepts and beings worthy of worship, one small group of disagreeable spirits swore loyalty to the Pale Longflesh, an outcast serpent-scholar of the west. The reason for their sudden subservience is uncertain, though it is know that they were shortsighted, obsessed solely with personal might and individualism, existing as a loose hierarchy of religious clans.
Regardless, these beings knew little of Pale Longflesh, who had himself been cast away from his brothers, bound in his own skin and drowned in sorrow. Consumed by endless solitude, Longflesh had become a myth among the ancients of Assethei, known to offer power and knowledge which, while beneficial in the short term, inevitably led to total isolation. Those afflicted by his lonely mourning were called "Candles" referring to how their immortal spirits would burn cool and alone amidst a sea of wax, unrecognisable and tragically intangible, a world lost to them.
Euliess, a nation of creative spirits built in the heartlands of Assethei's wilderness, became a natural resting place for these Yaerwhyl, their desire to connect with others transforming them into enigmatic muses for the feverous artists of the land. Taking the shape of strange lights and pale shadows, the Yaerwhyl were just one of many phenomena native to Assethei's unbound chaos. In time however, Pale Longflesh, now known by some records as the Betrayer or the Betrayed, was awake once more, his weeping saturating Euliess with an uncanny mist for centuries. In his sorrow, the Betrayer's cruel bargain rose once more, whispering through the Yaerwhyl, hinting at their true nature to those who listened to closely, seeking inspiration in their loneliness.
Captured by this bitter calling, the mad folk of Euliess accepted the contract without words or breath, their minds drawn inwards, becoming the wick which led to their newly sculpted fates. Almost simultaneously they fell into themselves, isolating further and further into their crafts, shaping and carving and crafting until their work was as clay. Their once-bright minds sharpened into a single flickering point, unable to see or hear one another, unable to stop. So Euliess fell, flooded in wax and stained in tears, its people becoming as the Yaerwhyl they had once followed.
Some of course resisted, realised what was happening, tried to flee their silenced homeland. Some called close their families, others tried to warn the city councils, but even this drew them away, led them fluttering towards the arctic lights of obsession, freezing them into singular purpose. Acts of resistance slowly melted into acts of perfecting, the meaning behind the world and one's role in it fading into the darkness, illuminated only occasionally by the confused, shining eyes of the Yaerwhyl.
And at last, as the last great tinkerer of Euliess withdrew, locking themselves away in a sinking workshop of clay and wax, did the great masterpieces of the land also fall, fading away into memory and beyond, lost in the deep fog of forgetting. When the last spire of Euliess fell, all that remained, towering around it, were candles[Euliess, The Lonely Land](location:c248d3e8-6ee3-4b5e-ab20-2011e3e85c03) around the discovery and subsequent "worship" of the Yaerwhyl, ancient spirits living among the artisans and creatives of Euliess. To scholars of the later ages, the resultant catastrophy was called the "Winnowing," named after the insurmountable apathy and isolation which claimed Euliess' inhabitants.
Very little definite information exists regarding the Yaerwhyl, though it is known that long before the creation of Assethei, the Dreams of Liberation, when most people desperately sought concepts and beings worthy of worship, one small group of disagreeable spirits swore loyalty to the Pale Longflesh, an outcast serpent-scholar of the west. The reason for their sudden subservience is uncertain, though it is know that they were shortsighted, obsessed solely with personal might and individualism, existing as a loose hierarchy of religious clans.
Regardless, these beings knew little of Pale Longflesh, who had himself been cast away from his brothers, bound in his own skin and drowned in sorrow. Consumed by endless solitude, Longflesh had become a myth among the ancients of Assethei, known to offer power and knowledge which, while beneficial in the short term, inevitably led to total isolation. Those afflicted by his lonely mourning were called "Candles" referring to how their immortal spirits would burn cool and alone amidst a sea of wax, unrecognisable and tragically intangible, a world lost to them.
Euliess, a nation of creative spirits built in the heartlands of Assethei's wilderness, became a natural resting place for these Yaerwhyl, their desire to connect with others transforming them into enigmatic muses for the feverous artists of the land. Taking the shape of strange lights and pale shadows, the Yaerwhyl were just one of many phenomena native to Assethei's unbound chaos. In time however, Pale Longflesh, now known by some records as the Betrayer or the Betrayed, was awake once more, his weeping saturating Euliess with an uncanny mist for centuries. In his sorrow, the Betrayer's cruel bargain rose once more, whispering through the Yaerwhyl, hinting at their true nature to those who listened to closely, seeking inspiration in their loneliness.
Captured by this bitter calling, the mad folk of Euliess accepted the contract without words or breath, their minds drawn inwards, becoming the wick which led to their newly sculpted fates. Almost simultaneously they fell into themselves, isolating further and further into their crafts, shaping and carving and crafting until their work was as clay. Their once-bright minds sharpened into a single flickering point, unable to see or hear one another, unable to stop. So Euliess fell, flooded in wax and stained in tears, its people becoming as the Yaerwhyl they had once followed.
Some of course resisted, realised what was happening, tried to flee their silenced homeland. Some called close their families, others tried to warn the city councils, but even this drew them away, led them fluttering towards the arctic lights of obsession, freezing them into singular purpose. Acts of resistance slowly melted into acts of perfecting, the meaning behind the world and one's role in it fading into the darkness, illuminated only occasionally by the confused, shining eyes of the Yaerwhyl.
And at last, as the last great tinkerer of Euliess withdrew, locking themselves away in a sinking workshop of clay and wax, did the great masterpieces of the land also fall, fading away into memory and beyond, lost in the deep fog of forgetting. When the last spire of Euliess fell, all that remained, towering around it, were candles[Euliess, The Lonely Land](location:c248d3e8-6ee3-4b5e-ab20-2011e3e85c03) revolved around the discovery and subsequent "worship" of the Yaerwhyl, ancient spirits living among the artisans and creatives of Euliess. To scholars of the later ages, the resultant catastrophy was called the "Winnowing," named after the insurmountable apathy and isolation which claimed Euliess' inhabitants.
Very little definite information exists regarding the Yaerwhyl, though it is known that long before the creation of Assethei, the Dreams of Liberation, when most people desperately sought concepts and beings worthy of worship, one small group of disagreeable spirits swore loyalty to the Pale Longflesh, an outcast serpent-scholar of the west. The reason for their sudden subservience is uncertain, though it is know that they were shortsighted, obsessed solely with personal might and individualism, existing as a loose hierarchy of religious clans.
Regardless, these beings knew little of Pale Longflesh, who had himself been cast away from his brothers, bound in his own skin and drowned in sorrow. Consumed by endless solitude, Longflesh had become a myth among the ancients of Assethei, known to offer power and knowledge which, while beneficial in the short term, inevitably led to total isolation. Those afflicted by his lonely mourning were called "Candles" referring to how their immortal spirits would burn cool and alone amidst a sea of wax, unrecognisable and tragically intangible, a world lost to them.
Euliess, a nation of creative spirits built in the heartlands of Assethei's wilderness, became a natural resting place for these Yaerwhyl, their desire to connect with others transforming them into enigmatic muses for the feverous artists of the land. Taking the shape of strange lights and pale shadows, the Yaerwhyl were just one of many phenomena native to Assethei's unbound chaos. In time however, Pale Longflesh, now known by some records as the Betrayer or the Betrayed, was awake once more, his weeping saturating Euliess with an uncanny mist for centuries. In his sorrow, the Betrayer's cruel bargain rose once more, whispering through the Yaerwhyl, hinting at their true nature to those who listened to closely, seeking inspiration in their loneliness.
Captured by this bitter calling, the mad folk of Euliess accepted the contract without words or breath, their minds drawn inwards, becoming the wick which led to their newly sculpted fates. Almost simultaneously they fell into themselves, isolating further and further into their crafts, shaping and carving and crafting until their work was as clay. Their once-bright minds sharpened into a single flickering point, unable to see or hear one another, unable to stop. So Euliess fell, flooded in wax and stained in tears, its people becoming as the Yaerwhyl they had once followed.
Some of course resisted, realised what was happening, tried to flee their silenced homeland. Some called close their families, others tried to warn the city councils, but even this drew them away, led them fluttering towards the arctic lights of obsession, freezing them into singular purpose. Acts of resistance slowly melted into acts of perfecting, the meaning behind the world and one's role in it fading into the darkness, illuminated only occasionally by the confused, shining eyes of the Yaerwhyl.
And at last, as the last great tinkerer of Euliess withdrew, locking themselves away in a sinking workshop of clay and wax, did the great masterpieces of the land also fall, fading away into memory and beyond, lost in the deep fog of forgetting. When the last spire of Euliess fell, all that remained, towering around it, were candles[Euliess, The Lonely Land](location:c248d3e8-6ee3-4b5e-ab20-2011e3e85c03) around the discovery and subsequent "worship" of the Yaerwhyl, ancient spirits living among the artisans and creatives of Euliess. To scholars of the later ages, the resultant catastrophy was called the "Winnowing," named after the insurmountable apathy and isolation which claimed Euliess' inhabitants.
Very little definite information exists regarding the Yaerwhyl, though it is known that long before the creation of Assethei, the Dreams of Liberation, when most people desperately sought concepts and beings worthy of worship, one small group of disagreeable spirits swore loyalty to the Pale Longflesh, an outcast serpent-scholar of the west. The reason for their sudden subservience is uncertain, though it is know that they were shortsighted, obsessed solely with personal might and individualism, existing as a loose hierarchy of religious clans.
Regardless, these beings knew little of Pale Longflesh, who had himself been cast away from his brothers, bound in his own skin and drowned in sorrow. Consumed by endless solitude, Longflesh had become a myth among the ancients of Assethei, known to offer power and knowledge which, while beneficial in the short term, inevitably led to total isolation. Those afflicted by his lonely mourning were called "Candles" referring to how their immortal spirits would burn cool and alone amidst a sea of wax, unrecognisable and tragically intangible, a world lost to them.
Euliess, a nation of creative spirits built in the heartlands of Assethei's wilderness, became a natural resting place for these Yaerwhyl, their desire to connect with others transforming them into enigmatic muses for the feverous artists of the land. Taking the shape of strange lights and pale shadows, the Yaerwhyl were just one of many phenomena native to Assethei's unbound chaos. In time however, Pale Longflesh, now known by some records as the Betrayer or the Betrayed, was awake once more, his weeping saturating Euliess with an uncanny mist for centuries. In his sorrow, the Betrayer's cruel bargain rose once more, whispering through the Yaerwhyl, hinting at their true nature to those who listened to closely, seeking inspiration in their loneliness.
Captured by this bitter calling, the mad folk of Euliess accepted the contract without words or breath, their minds drawn inwards, becoming the wick which led to their newly sculpted fates. Almost simultaneously they fell into themselves, isolating further and further into their crafts, shaping and carving and crafting until their work was as clay. Their once-bright minds sharpened into a single flickering point, unable to see or hear one another, unable to stop. So Euliess fell, flooded in wax and stained in tears, its people becoming as the Yaerwhyl they had once followed.
Some of course resisted, realised what was happening, tried to flee their silenced homeland. Some called close their families, others tried to warn the city councils, but even this drew them away, led them fluttering towards the arctic lights of obsession, freezing them into singular purpose. Acts of resistance slowly melted into acts of perfecting, the meaning behind the world and one's role in it fading into the darkness, illuminated only occasionally by the confused, shining eyes of the Yaerwhyl.
And at last, as the last great tinkerer of Euliess withdrew, locking themselves away in a sinking workshop of clay and wax, did the great masterpieces of the land also fall, fading away into memory and beyond, lost in the deep fog of forgetting. When the last spire of Euliess fell, all that remained, towering around it, were candles[Euliess, The Lonely Land](location:c248d3e8-6ee3-4b5e-ab20-2011e3e85c03) revolved around the discovery and subsequent "worship" of the Yaerwhyl, ancient spirits living among the artisans and creatives of Euliess. To scholars of the later ages, the resultant catastrophy was called the "Winnowing," named after the insurmountable apathy and isolation which claimed Euliess' inhabitants.
Very little definite information exists regarding the Yaerwhyl, though it is known that long before the creation of Assethei, the Dreams of Liberation, when most people desperately sought concepts and beings worthy of worship, one small group of disagreeable spirits swore loyalty to the Pale Longflesh, an outcast serpent-scholar of the west. The reason for their sudden subservience is uncertain, though it is know that they were shortsighted, obsessed solely with personal might and individualism, existing as a loose hierarchy of religious clans.
Regardless, these beings knew little of Pale Longflesh, who had himself been cast away from his brothers, bound in his own skin and drowned in sorrow. Consumed by endless solitude, Longflesh had become a myth among the ancients of Assethei, known to offer power and knowledge which, while beneficial in the short term, inevitably led to total isolation. Those afflicted by his lonely mourning were called "Candles" referring to how their immortal spirits would burn cool and alone amidst a sea of wax, unrecognisable and tragically intangible, a world lost to them.
Euliess, a nation of creative spirits built in the heartlands of Assethei's wilderness, became a natural resting place for these Yaerwhyl, their desire to connect with others transforming them into enigmatic muses for the feverous artists of the land. Taking the shape of strange lights and pale shadows, the Yaerwhyl were just one of many phenomena native to Assethei's unbound chaos. In time however, Pale Longflesh, now known by some records as the Betrayer or the Betrayed, was awake once more, his weeping saturating Euliess with an uncanny mist for centuries. In his sorrow, the Betrayer's cruel bargain rose once more, whispering through the Yaerwhyl, hinting at their true nature to those who listened to closely, seeking inspiration in their loneliness.
Captured by this bitter calling, the mad folk of Euliess accepted the contract without words or breath, their minds drawn inwards, becoming the wick which led to their newly sculpted fates. Almost simultaneously they fell into themselves, isolating further and further into their crafts, shaping and carving and crafting until their work was as clay. Their once-bright minds sharpened into a single flickering point, unable to see or hear one another, unable to stop. So Euliess fell, flooded in wax and stained in tears, its people becoming as the Yaerwhyl they had once followed.
Some of course resisted, realised what was happening, tried to flee their silenced homeland. Some called close their families, others tried to warn the city councils, but even this drew them away, led them fluttering towards the arctic lights of obsession, freezing them into singular purpose. Acts of resistance slowly melted into acts of perfecting, the meaning behind the world and one's role in it fading into the darkness, illuminated only occasionally by the confused, shining eyes of the Yaerwhyl.
And at last, as the last great tinkerer of Euliess withdrew, locking themselves away in a sinking workshop of clay and wax, did the great masterpieces of the land also fall, fading away into memory and beyond, lost in the deep fog of forgetting. When the last spire of Euliess fell, all that remained, towering around it, were candles[Euliess, The Lonely Land](location:c248d3e8-6ee3-4b5e-ab20-2011e3e85c03) around the discovery and subsequent "worship" of the Yaerwhyl, ancient spirits living among the artisans and creatives of Euliess. To scholars of the later ages, the resultant catastrophy was called the "Winnowing," named after the insurmountable apathy and isolation which claimed Euliess' inhabitants.
Very little definite information exists regarding the Yaerwhyl, though it is known that long before the creation of Assethei, the Dreams of Liberation, when most people desperately sought concepts and beings worthy of worship, one small group of disagreeable spirits swore loyalty to the Pale Longflesh, an outcast serpent-scholar of the west. The reason for their sudden subservience is uncertain, though it is know that they were shortsighted, obsessed solely with personal might and individualism, existing as a loose hierarchy of religious clans.
Regardless, these beings knew little of Pale Longflesh, who had himself been cast away from his brothers, bound in his own skin and drowned in sorrow. Consumed by endless solitude, Longflesh had become a myth among the ancients of Assethei, known to offer power and knowledge which, while beneficial in the short term, inevitably led to total isolation. Those afflicted by his lonely mourning were called "Candles" referring to how their immortal spirits would burn cool and alone amidst a sea of wax, unrecognisable and tragically intangible, a world lost to them.
Euliess, a nation of creative spirits built in the heartlands of Assethei's wilderness, became a natural resting place for these Yaerwhyl, their desire to connect with others transforming them into enigmatic muses for the feverous artists of the land. Taking the shape of strange lights and pale shadows, the Yaerwhyl were just one of many phenomena native to Assethei's unbound chaos. In time however, Pale Longflesh, now known by some records as the Betrayer or the Betrayed, was awake once more, his weeping saturating Euliess with an uncanny mist for centuries. In his sorrow, the Betrayer's cruel bargain rose once more, whispering through the Yaerwhyl, hinting at their true nature to those who listened to closely, seeking inspiration in their loneliness.
Captured by this bitter calling, the mad folk of Euliess accepted the contract without words or breath, their minds drawn inwards, becoming the wick which led to their newly sculpted fates. Almost simultaneously they fell into themselves, isolating further and further into their crafts, shaping and carving and crafting until their work was as clay. Their once-bright minds sharpened into a single flickering point, unable to see or hear one another, unable to stop. So Euliess fell, flooded in wax and stained in tears, its people becoming as the Yaerwhyl they had once followed.
Some of course resisted, realised what was happening, tried to flee their silenced homeland. Some called close their families, others tried to warn the city councils, but even this drew them away, led them fluttering towards the arctic lights of obsession, freezing them into singular purpose. Acts of resistance slowly melted into acts of perfecting, the meaning behind the world and one's role in it fading into the darkness, illuminated only occasionally by the confused, shining eyes of the Yaerwhyl.
And at last, as the last great tinkerer of Euliess withdrew, locking themselves away in a sinking workshop of clay and wax, did the great masterpieces of the land also fall, fading away into memory and beyond, lost in the deep fog of forgetting. When the last spire of Euliess fell, all that remained, towering around it, were candles[Euliess, The Lonely Land](location:c248d3e8-6ee3-4b5e-ab20-2011e3e85c03) revolved around the discovery and subsequent "worship" of the Yaerwhyl, ancient spirits living among the artisans and creatives of Euliess. To scholars of the later ages, the resultant catastrophy was called the "Winnowing," named after the insurmountable apathy and isolation which claimed Euliess' inhabitants.
Very little definite information exists regarding the Yaerwhyl, though it is known that long before the creation of Assethei, the Dreams of Liberation, when most people desperately sought concepts and beings worthy of worship, one small group of disagreeable spirits swore loyalty to the Pale Longflesh, an outcast serpent-scholar of the west. The reason for their sudden subservience is uncertain, though it is know that they were shortsighted, obsessed solely with personal might and individualism, existing as a loose hierarchy of religious clans.
Regardless, these beings knew little of Pale Longflesh, who had himself been cast away from his brothers, bound in his own skin and drowned in sorrow. Consumed by endless solitude, Longflesh had become a myth among the ancients of Assethei, known to offer power and knowledge which, while beneficial in the short term, inevitably led to total isolation. Those afflicted by his lonely mourning were called "Candles" referring to how their immortal spirits would burn cool and alone amidst a sea of wax, unrecognisable and tragically intangible, a world lost to them.
Euliess, a nation of creative spirits built in the heartlands of Assethei's wilderness, became a natural resting place for these Yaerwhyl, their desire to connect with others transforming them into enigmatic muses for the feverous artists of the land. Taking the shape of strange lights and pale shadows, the Yaerwhyl were just one of many phenomena native to Assethei's unbound chaos. In time however, Pale Longflesh, now known by some records as the Betrayer or the Betrayed, was awake once more, his weeping saturating Euliess with an uncanny mist for centuries. In his sorrow, the Betrayer's cruel bargain rose once more, whispering through the Yaerwhyl, hinting at their true nature to those who listened to closely, seeking inspiration in their loneliness.
Captured by this bitter calling, the mad folk of Euliess accepted the contract without words or breath, their minds drawn inwards, becoming the wick which led to their newly sculpted fates. Almost simultaneously they fell into themselves, isolating further and further into their crafts, shaping and carving and crafting until their work was as clay. Their once-bright minds sharpened into a single flickering point, unable to see or hear one another, unable to stop. So Euliess fell, flooded in wax and stained in tears, its people becoming as the Yaerwhyl they had once followed.
Some of course resisted, realised what was happening, tried to flee their silenced homeland. Some called close their families, others tried to warn the city councils, but even this drew them away, led them fluttering towards the arctic lights of obsession, freezing them into singular purpose. Acts of resistance slowly melted into acts of perfecting, the meaning behind the world and one's role in it fading into the darkness, illuminated only occasionally by the confused, shining eyes of the Yaerwhyl.
And at last, as the last great tinkerer of Euliess withdrew, locking themselves away in a sinking workshop of clay and wax, did the great masterpieces of the land also fall, fading away into memory and beyond, lost in the deep fog of forgetting. When the last spire of Euliess fell, all that remained, towering around it, were candles[Euliess, The Lonely Land](location:c248d3e8-6ee3-4b5e-ab20-2011e3e85c03) the discovery and subsequent "worship" of the Yaerwhyl, ancient spirits living among the artisans and creatives of Euliess. To scholars of the later ages, the resultant catastrophy was called the "Winnowing," named after the insurmountable apathy and isolation which claimed Euliess' inhabitants.
Very little definite information exists regarding the Yaerwhyl, though it is known that long before the creation of Assethei, the Dreams of Liberation, when most people desperately sought concepts and beings worthy of worship, one small group of disagreeable spirits swore loyalty to the Pale Longflesh, an outcast serpent-scholar of the west. The reason for their sudden subservience is uncertain, though it is know that they were shortsighted, obsessed solely with personal might and individualism, existing as a loose hierarchy of religious clans.
Regardless, these beings knew little of Pale Longflesh, who had himself been cast away from his brothers, bound in his own skin and drowned in sorrow. Consumed by endless solitude, Longflesh had become a myth among the ancients of Assethei, known to offer power and knowledge which, while beneficial in the short term, inevitably led to total isolation. Those afflicted by his lonely mourning were called "Candles" referring to how their immortal spirits would burn cool and alone amidst a sea of wax, unrecognisable and tragically intangible, a world lost to them.
Euliess, a nation of creative spirits built in the heartlands of Assethei's wilderness, became a natural resting place for these Yaerwhyl, their desire to connect with others transforming them into enigmatic muses for the feverous artists of the land. Taking the shape of strange lights and pale shadows, the Yaerwhyl were just one of many phenomena native to Assethei's unbound chaos. In time however, Pale Longflesh, now known by some records as the Betrayer or the Betrayed, was awake once more, his weeping saturating Euliess with an uncanny mist for centuries. In his sorrow, the Betrayer's cruel bargain rose once more, whispering through the Yaerwhyl, hinting at their true nature to those who listened to closely, seeking inspiration in their loneliness.
Captured by this bitter calling, the mad folk of Euliess accepted the contract without words or breath, their minds drawn inwards, becoming the wick which led to their newly sculpted fates. Almost simultaneously they fell into themselves, isolating further and further into their crafts, shaping and carving and crafting until their work was as clay. Their once-bright minds sharpened into a single flickering point, unable to see or hear one another, unable to stop. So Euliess fell, flooded in wax and stained in tears, its people becoming as the Yaerwhyl they had once followed.
Some of course resisted, realised what was happening, tried to flee their silenced homeland. Some called close their families, others tried to warn the city councils, but even this drew them away, led them fluttering towards the arctic lights of obsession, freezing them into singular purpose. Acts of resistance slowly melted into acts of perfecting, the meaning behind the world and one's role in it fading into the darkness, illuminated only occasionally by the confused, shining eyes of the Yaerwhyl.
And at last, as the last great tinkerer of Euliess withdrew, locking themselves away in a sinking workshop of clay and wax, did the great masterpieces of the land also fall, fading away into memory and beyond, lost in the deep fog of forgetting. When the last spire of Euliess fell, all that remained, towering around it, were candles[Euliess, The Lonely Land](location:c248d3e8-6ee3-4b5e-ab20-2011e3e85c03) revolved around the discovery and subsequent "worship" of the Yaerwhyl, ancient spirits living among the artisans and creatives of Euliess. To scholars of the later ages, the resultant catastrophy was called the "Winnowing," named after the insurmountable apathy and isolation which claimed Euliess' inhabitants.
Very little definite information exists regarding the Yaerwhyl, though it is known that long before the creation of Assethei, the Dreams of Liberation, when most people desperately sought concepts and beings worthy of worship, one small group of disagreeable spirits swore loyalty to the Pale Longflesh, an outcast serpent-scholar of the west. The reason for their sudden subservience is uncertain, though it is know that they were shortsighted, obsessed solely with personal might and individualism, existing as a loose hierarchy of religious clans.
Regardless, these beings knew little of Pale Longflesh, who had himself been cast away from his brothers, bound in his own skin and drowned in sorrow. Consumed by endless solitude, Longflesh had become a myth among the ancients of Assethei, known to offer power and knowledge which, while beneficial in the short term, inevitably led to total isolation. Those afflicted by his lonely mourning were called "Candles" referring to how their immortal spirits would burn cool and alone amidst a sea of wax, unrecognisable and tragically intangible, a world lost to them.
Euliess, a nation of creative spirits built in the heartlands of Assethei's wilderness, became a natural resting place for these Yaerwhyl, their desire to connect with others transforming them into enigmatic muses for the feverous artists of the land. Taking the shape of strange lights and pale shadows, the Yaerwhyl were just one of many phenomena native to Assethei's unbound chaos. In time however, Pale Longflesh, now known by some records as the Betrayer or the Betrayed, was awake once more, his weeping saturating Euliess with an uncanny mist for centuries. In his sorrow, the Betrayer's cruel bargain rose once more, whispering through the Yaerwhyl, hinting at their true nature to those who listened to closely, seeking inspiration in their loneliness.
Captured by this bitter calling, the mad folk of Euliess accepted the contract without words or breath, their minds drawn inwards, becoming the wick which led to their newly sculpted fates. Almost simultaneously they fell into themselves, isolating further and further into their crafts, shaping and carving and crafting until their work was as clay. Their once-bright minds sharpened into a single flickering point, unable to see or hear one another, unable to stop. So Euliess fell, flooded in wax and stained in tears, its people becoming as the Yaerwhyl they had once followed.
Some of course resisted, realised what was happening, tried to flee their silenced homeland. Some called close their families, others tried to warn the city councils, but even this drew them away, led them fluttering towards the arctic lights of obsession, freezing them into singular purpose. Acts of resistance slowly melted into acts of perfecting, the meaning behind the world and one's role in it fading into the darkness, illuminated only occasionally by the confused, shining eyes of the Yaerwhyl.
And at last, as the last great tinkerer of Euliess withdrew, locking themselves away in a sinking workshop of clay and wax, did the great masterpieces of the land also fall, fading away into memory and beyond, lost in the deep fog of forgetting. When the last spire of Euliess fell, all that remained, towering around it, were candles[Euliess, The Lonely Land](location:c248d3e8-6ee3-4b5e-ab20-2011e3e85c03) around the discovery and subsequent "worship" of the Yaerwhyl, ancient spirits living among the artisans and creatives of Euliess. To scholars of the later ages, the resultant catastrophy was called the "Winnowing," named after the insurmountable apathy and isolation which claimed Euliess' inhabitants.
Very little definite information exists regarding the Yaerwhyl, though it is known that long before the creation of Assethei, the Dreams of Liberation, when most people desperately sought concepts and beings worthy of worship, one small group of disagreeable spirits swore loyalty to the Pale Longflesh, an outcast serpent-scholar of the west. The reason for their sudden subservience is uncertain, though it is know that they were shortsighted, obsessed solely with personal might and individualism, existing as a loose hierarchy of religious clans.
Regardless, these beings knew little of Pale Longflesh, who had himself been cast away from his brothers, bound in his own skin and drowned in sorrow. Consumed by endless solitude, Longflesh had become a myth among the ancients of Assethei, known to offer power and knowledge which, while beneficial in the short term, inevitably led to total isolation. Those afflicted by his lonely mourning were called "Candles" referring to how their immortal spirits would burn cool and alone amidst a sea of wax, unrecognisable and tragically intangible, a world lost to them.
Euliess, a nation of creative spirits built in the heartlands of Assethei's wilderness, became a natural resting place for these Yaerwhyl, their desire to connect with others transforming them into enigmatic muses for the feverous artists of the land. Taking the shape of strange lights and pale shadows, the Yaerwhyl were just one of many phenomena native to Assethei's unbound chaos. In time however, Pale Longflesh, now known by some records as the Betrayer or the Betrayed, was awake once more, his weeping saturating Euliess with an uncanny mist for centuries. In his sorrow, the Betrayer's cruel bargain rose once more, whispering through the Yaerwhyl, hinting at their true nature to those who listened to closely, seeking inspiration in their loneliness.
Captured by this bitter calling, the mad folk of Euliess accepted the contract without words or breath, their minds drawn inwards, becoming the wick which led to their newly sculpted fates. Almost simultaneously they fell into themselves, isolating further and further into their crafts, shaping and carving and crafting until their work was as clay. Their once-bright minds sharpened into a single flickering point, unable to see or hear one another, unable to stop. So Euliess fell, flooded in wax and stained in tears, its people becoming as the Yaerwhyl they had once followed.
Some of course resisted, realised what was happening, tried to flee their silenced homeland. Some called close their families, others tried to warn the city councils, but even this drew them away, led them fluttering towards the arctic lights of obsession, freezing them into singular purpose. Acts of resistance slowly melted into acts of perfecting, the meaning behind the world and one's role in it fading into the darkness, illuminated only occasionally by the confused, shining eyes of the Yaerwhyl.
And at last, as the last great tinkerer of Euliess withdrew, locking themselves away in a sinking workshop of clay and wax, did the great masterpieces of the land also fall, fading away into memory and beyond, lost in the deep fog of forgetting. When the last spire of Euliess fell, all that remained, towering around it, were candles[Euliess, The Lonely Land](location:c248d3e8-6ee3-4b5e-ab20-2011e3e85c03) revolved around the discovery and subsequent "worship" of the Yaerwhyl, ancient spirits living among the artisans and creatives of Euliess. To scholars of the later ages, the resultant catastrophy was called the "Winnowing," named after the insurmountable apathy and isolation which claimed Euliess' inhabitants.
Very little definite information exists regarding the Yaerwhyl, though it is known that long before the creation of Assethei, the Dreams of Liberation, when most people desperately sought concepts and beings worthy of worship, one small group of disagreeable spirits swore loyalty to the Pale Longflesh, an outcast serpent-scholar of the west. The reason for their sudden subservience is uncertain, though it is know that they were shortsighted, obsessed solely with personal might and individualism, existing as a loose hierarchy of religious clans.
Regardless, these beings knew little of Pale Longflesh, who had himself been cast away from his brothers, bound in his own skin and drowned in sorrow. Consumed by endless solitude, Longflesh had become a myth among the ancients of Assethei, known to offer power and knowledge which, while beneficial in the short term, inevitably led to total isolation. Those afflicted by his lonely mourning were called "Candles" referring to how their immortal spirits would burn cool and alone amidst a sea of wax, unrecognisable and tragically intangible, a world lost to them.
Euliess, a nation of creative spirits built in the heartlands of Assethei's wilderness, became a natural resting place for these Yaerwhyl, their desire to connect with others transforming them into enigmatic muses for the feverous artists of the land. Taking the shape of strange lights and pale shadows, the Yaerwhyl were just one of many phenomena native to Assethei's unbound chaos. In time however, Pale Longflesh, now known by some records as the Betrayer or the Betrayed, was awake once more, his weeping saturating Euliess with an uncanny mist for centuries. In his sorrow, the Betrayer's cruel bargain rose once more, whispering through the Yaerwhyl, hinting at their true nature to those who listened to closely, seeking inspiration in their loneliness.
Captured by this bitter calling, the mad folk of Euliess accepted the contract without words or breath, their minds drawn inwards, becoming the wick which led to their newly sculpted fates. Almost simultaneously they fell into themselves, isolating further and further into their crafts, shaping and carving and crafting until their work was as clay. Their once-bright minds sharpened into a single flickering point, unable to see or hear one another, unable to stop. So Euliess fell, flooded in wax and stained in tears, its people becoming as the Yaerwhyl they had once followed.
Some of course resisted, realised what was happening, tried to flee their silenced homeland. Some called close their families, others tried to warn the city councils, but even this drew them away, led them fluttering towards the arctic lights of obsession, freezing them into singular purpose. Acts of resistance slowly melted into acts of perfecting, the meaning behind the world and one's role in it fading into the darkness, illuminated only occasionally by the confused, shining eyes of the Yaerwhyl.
And at last, as the last great tinkerer of Euliess withdrew, locking themselves away in a sinking workshop of clay and wax, did the great masterpieces of the land also fall, fading away into memory and beyond, lost in the deep fog of forgetting. When the last spire of Euliess fell, all that remained, towering around it, were candles[Euliess, The Lonely Land](location:c248d3e8-6ee3-4b5e-ab20-2011e3e85c03) around the discovery and subsequent "worship" of the Yaerwhyl, ancient spirits living among the artisans and creatives of Euliess. To scholars of the later ages, the resultant catastrophy was called the "Winnowing," named after the insurmountable apathy and isolation which claimed Euliess' inhabitants.
Very little definite information exists regarding the Yaerwhyl, though it is known that long before the creation of Assethei, the Dreams of Liberation, when most people desperately sought concepts and beings worthy of worship, one small group of disagreeable spirits swore loyalty to the Pale Longflesh, an outcast serpent-scholar of the west. The reason for their sudden subservience is uncertain, though it is know that they were shortsighted, obsessed solely with personal might and individualism, existing as a loose hierarchy of religious clans.
Regardless, these beings knew little of Pale Longflesh, who had himself been cast away from his brothers, bound in his own skin and drowned in sorrow. Consumed by endless solitude, Longflesh had become a myth among the ancients of Assethei, known to offer power and knowledge which, while beneficial in the short term, inevitably led to total isolation. Those afflicted by his lonely mourning were called "Candles" referring to how their immortal spirits would burn cool and alone amidst a sea of wax, unrecognisable and tragically intangible, a world lost to them.
Euliess, a nation of creative spirits built in the heartlands of Assethei's wilderness, became a natural resting place for these Yaerwhyl, their desire to connect with others transforming them into enigmatic muses for the feverous artists of the land. Taking the shape of strange lights and pale shadows, the Yaerwhyl were just one of many phenomena native to Assethei's unbound chaos. In time however, Pale Longflesh, now known by some records as the Betrayer or the Betrayed, was awake once more, his weeping saturating Euliess with an uncanny mist for centuries. In his sorrow, the Betrayer's cruel bargain rose once more, whispering through the Yaerwhyl, hinting at their true nature to those who listened to closely, seeking inspiration in their loneliness.
Captured by this bitter calling, the mad folk of Euliess accepted the contract without words or breath, their minds drawn inwards, becoming the wick which led to their newly sculpted fates. Almost simultaneously they fell into themselves, isolating further and further into their crafts, shaping and carving and crafting until their work was as clay. Their once-bright minds sharpened into a single flickering point, unable to see or hear one another, unable to stop. So Euliess fell, flooded in wax and stained in tears, its people becoming as the Yaerwhyl they had once followed.
Some of course resisted, realised what was happening, tried to flee their silenced homeland. Some called close their families, others tried to warn the city councils, but even this drew them away, led them fluttering towards the arctic lights of obsession, freezing them into singular purpose. Acts of resistance slowly melted into acts of perfecting, the meaning behind the world and one's role in it fading into the darkness, illuminated only occasionally by the confused, shining eyes of the Yaerwhyl.
And at last, as the last great tinkerer of Euliess withdrew, locking themselves away in a sinking workshop of clay and wax, did the great masterpieces of the land also fall, fading away into memory and beyond, lost in the deep fog of forgetting. When the last spire of Euliess fell, all that remained, towering around it, were candles[Euliess, The Lonely Land](location:c248d3e8-6ee3-4b5e-ab20-2011e3e85c03) revolved around the discovery and subsequent "worship" of the Yaerwhyl, ancient spirits living among the artisans and creatives of Euliess. To scholars of the later ages, the resultant catastrophy was called the "Winnowing," named after the insurmountable apathy and isolation which claimed Euliess' inhabitants.
Very little definite information exists regarding the Yaerwhyl, though it is known that long before the creation of Assethei, the Dreams of Liberation, when most people desperately sought concepts and beings worthy of worship, one small group of disagreeable spirits swore loyalty to the Pale Longflesh, an outcast serpent-scholar of the west. The reason for their sudden subservience is uncertain, though it is know that they were shortsighted, obsessed solely with personal might and individualism, existing as a loose hierarchy of religious clans.
Regardless, these beings knew little of Pale Longflesh, who had himself been cast away from his brothers, bound in his own skin and drowned in sorrow. Consumed by endless solitude, Longflesh had become a myth among the ancients of Assethei, known to offer power and knowledge which, while beneficial in the short term, inevitably led to total isolation. Those afflicted by his lonely mourning were called "Candles" referring to how their immortal spirits would burn cool and alone amidst a sea of wax, unrecognisable and tragically intangible, a world lost to them.
Euliess, a nation of creative spirits built in the heartlands of Assethei's wilderness, became a natural resting place for these Yaerwhyl, their desire to connect with others transforming them into enigmatic muses for the feverous artists of the land. Taking the shape of strange lights and pale shadows, the Yaerwhyl were just one of many phenomena native to Assethei's unbound chaos. In time however, Pale Longflesh, now known by some records as the Betrayer or the Betrayed, was awake once more, his weeping saturating Euliess with an uncanny mist for centuries. In his sorrow, the Betrayer's cruel bargain rose once more, whispering through the Yaerwhyl, hinting at their true nature to those who listened to closely, seeking inspiration in their loneliness.
Captured by this bitter calling, the mad folk of Euliess accepted the contract without words or breath, their minds drawn inwards, becoming the wick which led to their newly sculpted fates. Almost simultaneously they fell into themselves, isolating further and further into their crafts, shaping and carving and crafting until their work was as clay. Their once-bright minds sharpened into a single flickering point, unable to see or hear one another, unable to stop. So Euliess fell, flooded in wax and stained in tears, its people becoming as the Yaerwhyl they had once followed.
Some of course resisted, realised what was happening, tried to flee their silenced homeland. Some called close their families, others tried to warn the city councils, but even this drew them away, led them fluttering towards the arctic lights of obsession, freezing them into singular purpose. Acts of resistance slowly melted into acts of perfecting, the meaning behind the world and one's role in it fading into the darkness, illuminated only occasionally by the confused, shining eyes of the Yaerwhyl.
And at last, as the last great tinkerer of Euliess withdrew, locking themselves away in a sinking workshop of clay and wax, did the great masterpieces of the land also fall, fading away into memory and beyond, lost in the deep fog of forgetting. When the last spire of Euliess fell, all that remained, towering around it, were candles[Euliess, The Lonely Land](location:c248d3e8-6ee3-4b5e-ab20-2011e3e85c03) around the discovery and subsequent "worship" of the Yaerwhyl, ancient spirits living among the artisans and creatives of Euliess. To scholars of the later ages, the resultant catastrophy was called the "Winnowing," named after the insurmountable apathy and isolation which claimed Euliess' inhabitants.
Very little definite information exists regarding the Yaerwhyl, though it is known that long before the creation of Assethei, the Dreams of Liberation, when most people desperately sought concepts and beings worthy of worship, one small group of disagreeable spirits swore loyalty to the Pale Longflesh, an outcast serpent-scholar of the west. The reason for their sudden subservience is uncertain, though it is know that they were shortsighted, obsessed solely with personal might and individualism, existing as a loose hierarchy of religious clans.
Regardless, these beings knew little of Pale Longflesh, who had himself been cast away from his brothers, bound in his own skin and drowned in sorrow. Consumed by endless solitude, Longflesh had become a myth among the ancients of Assethei, known to offer power and knowledge which, while beneficial in the short term, inevitably led to total isolation. Those afflicted by his lonely mourning were called "Candles" referring to how their immortal spirits would burn cool and alone amidst a sea of wax, unrecognisable and tragically intangible, a world lost to them.
Euliess, a nation of creative spirits built in the heartlands of Assethei's wilderness, became a natural resting place for these Yaerwhyl, their desire to connect with others transforming them into enigmatic muses for the feverous artists of the land. Taking the shape of strange lights and pale shadows, the Yaerwhyl were just one of many phenomena native to Assethei's unbound chaos. In time however, Pale Longflesh, now known by some records as the Betrayer or the Betrayed, was awake once more, his weeping saturating Euliess with an uncanny mist for centuries. In his sorrow, the Betrayer's cruel bargain rose once more, whispering through the Yaerwhyl, hinting at their true nature to those who listened to closely, seeking inspiration in their loneliness.
Captured by this bitter calling, the mad folk of Euliess accepted the contract without words or breath, their minds drawn inwards, becoming the wick which led to their newly sculpted fates. Almost simultaneously they fell into themselves, isolating further and further into their crafts, shaping and carving and crafting until their work was as clay. Their once-bright minds sharpened into a single flickering point, unable to see or hear one another, unable to stop. So Euliess fell, flooded in wax and stained in tears, its people becoming as the Yaerwhyl they had once followed.
Some of course resisted, realised what was happening, tried to flee their silenced homeland. Some called close their families, others tried to warn the city councils, but even this drew them away, led them fluttering towards the arctic lights of obsession, freezing them into singular purpose. Acts of resistance slowly melted into acts of perfecting, the meaning behind the world and one's role in it fading into the darkness, illuminated only occasionally by the confused, shining eyes of the Yaerwhyl.
And at last, as the last great tinkerer of Euliess withdrew, locking themselves away in a sinking workshop of clay and wax, did the great masterpieces of the land also fall, fading away into memory and beyond, lost in the deep fog of forgetting. When the last spire of Euliess fell, all that remained, towering around it, were candles[Euliess, The Lonely Land](location:c248d3e8-6ee3-4b5e-ab20-2011e3e85c03) revolved around the discovery and subsequent "worship" of the Yaerwhyl, ancient spirits living among the artisans and creatives of Euliess. To scholars of the later ages, the resultant catastrophy was called the "Winnowing," named after the insurmountable apathy and isolation which claimed Euliess' inhabitants.
Very little definite information exists regarding the Yaerwhyl, though it is known that long before the creation of Assethei, the Dreams of Liberation, when most people desperately sought concepts and beings worthy of worship, one small group of disagreeable spirits swore loyalty to the Pale Longflesh, an outcast serpent-scholar of the west. The reason for their sudden subservience is uncertain, though it is know that they were shortsighted, obsessed solely with personal might and individualism, existing as a loose hierarchy of religious clans.
Regardless, these beings knew little of Pale Longflesh, who had himself been cast away from his brothers, bound in his own skin and drowned in sorrow. Consumed by endless solitude, Longflesh had become a myth among the ancients of Assethei, known to offer power and knowledge which, while beneficial in the short term, inevitably led to total isolation. Those afflicted by his lonely mourning were called "Candles" referring to how their immortal spirits would burn cool and alone amidst a sea of wax, unrecognisable and tragically intangible, a world lost to them.
Euliess, a nation of creative spirits built in the heartlands of Assethei's wilderness, became a natural resting place for these Yaerwhyl, their desire to connect with others transforming them into enigmatic muses for the feverous artists of the land. Taking the shape of strange lights and pale shadows, the Yaerwhyl were just one of many phenomena native to Assethei's unbound chaos. In time however, Pale Longflesh, now known by some records as the Betrayer or the Betrayed, was awake once more, his weeping saturating Euliess with an uncanny mist for centuries. In his sorrow, the Betrayer's cruel bargain rose once more, whispering through the Yaerwhyl, hinting at their true nature to those who listened to closely, seeking inspiration in their loneliness.
Captured by this bitter calling, the mad folk of Euliess accepted the contract without words or breath, their minds drawn inwards, becoming the wick which led to their newly sculpted fates. Almost simultaneously they fell into themselves, isolating further and further into their crafts, shaping and carving and crafting until their work was as clay. Their once-bright minds sharpened into a single flickering point, unable to see or hear one another, unable to stop. So Euliess fell, flooded in wax and stained in tears, its people becoming as the Yaerwhyl they had once followed.
Some of course resisted, realised what was happening, tried to flee their silenced homeland. Some called close their families, others tried to warn the city councils, but even this drew them away, led them fluttering towards the arctic lights of obsession, freezing them into singular purpose. Acts of resistance slowly melted into acts of perfecting, the meaning behind the world and one's role in it fading into the darkness, illuminated only occasionally by the confused, shining eyes of the Yaerwhyl.
And at last, as the last great tinkerer of Euliess withdrew, locking themselves away in a sinking workshop of clay and wax, did the great masterpieces of the land also fall, fading away into memory and beyond, lost in the deep fog of forgetting. When the last spire of Euliess fell, all that remained, towering around it, were candles.