The Lost Peninsula
"Our expedition began with a sturdy oaken cog from Aleth, with a seasoned crew of 80. Weather was fair as we sailed along the Mor Breizh, with no incident rounding Kab Kurunenn. As we saw the white cliffs and the towers vanish behind us, the skies turned a sickly shade of orange. The men claimed it was an omen of ill-portent, but we kept sailing, following the Dark Winds, black tendrils crossing the skies like the gashes left from an infernal whip. We should have turned back. We sailed onwards, resupplying at Tevenn Du, its black, choking smoke ejecting high into the heavens. We lost several of our sailors to a Formorian press gang, and were forced to take on some of the green-skinned brutes to make up the difference. We followed the Darkwind past the glowing waters of Finfolkaheem, the enchanting songs of the sirens, ending in the deaths of several more sailors as they leapt overboard to their deaths. The beasts of that accursed place were not sated, and launched an attack on the ship itself. Our Formorian crew beat back the attack, but at great cost. The captain ordered us to sail onwards, despite losing half our number, maddened by some unknowable goal. I saw him whispering, muttering to himself as we entered the Mor Marv, its dark waters as smooth as unmarred glass, reflecting the endless stars above us. Day never came as we sailed beneath that still blanket of stars, the tendrils of the darkwind blotting out the light above us. A dark mass formed on the horizon, a rolling mass of grey stormclouds and impenetrable mist. The mirror-sea grew rough as a the waters and winds whipped themselves into an unseasonable frenzy. Though it was mid-Summerrule, men froze to death at their posts and the deck was filled with ice and snow. We sailed through this wintry hell for 3 days. I wish that I could have taken joy when the rocky cliffs of the Peninsula finally loomed before us, their jagged faces silent to our struggle. But I could only curse them."
Letter salvaged from flotsam near Sluis
Geography
The Lost Peninsula is a remote region, located somewhere on the far Northeastern banks of the Mor Marv. The area is deep within a pocket of Faewylde, and consistent navigation to its shores is exceedingly difficult, passing through dangerous regions and unstable pockets of reality. The immediate approach to the Peninsula is frequently blocked by a large snowstorm or thick Feth Fiada. Those who do make it through this barrier finds themselves dangerously close to submerged rocks or dashed against the bald-faced jagged cliffs that make up the innumerable inslets and fjords of the rugged coastlines. Small villages dot the shores of these secluded harbours, the main Bediz population centers of the region.
Those who brave the treacherous voyage find the interior of the region no more hospitable. The terrain is dominated by jagged mountains of stone and ice, vast dark forests and frozen canyons. Legends tell of impossible geographic features, like fields full of pillars of ice, massive trees the size of cities and pockets of idyllic summer existing in the uncharted region. To date, the interior remains largely unexplored.
Localized Phenomena
The Lost Peninsula is locked in a perpetual Winterrule, with a layer of snow commonly blanketing the ground. Severe blizzards and icestorms are common across the region, forming suddenly and lasting for long stretches. Despite the perpetual winter, there are periods of localized thaw that allow for some agriculture and infrastuctural repairs. A persistent layer of Feth Fiada is often found here.
The Gaoithe Sidhe are incredibly vibrant here, the coloured auroras of the winds illuminating the light sky with ribbons of light.
History
The Lost Peninsula was once considered part of Bedouar, referenced by Imperial scholars but with little direct contact. It is considered to have been subsumed by Faerie during the first Bleed.
This region quickly fell under the control of the Erlking, in some variants of the legend within a single night, although this is a point on contention from scholars. Surrounded by a rolling wall of fog, the Erlking swept across the Western Realms under defeated at the Battle of Tours. Before him, the Bediz of the Lost Peninsula fled on their longships, raiding coastal territory before eventually settling in Normandi. The invading forces retreated to the Forest of the Erlking, and all contact was lost with the region.
In the years that followed, the Erlking re-established dominance over their holdings in the Mists, and raiders from the Peninsula launched attacks along the coastlines and rivers of the Western Realms, assisted by the Arkane of their sovereign before vanishing back into the fog. The most notable of these raiders became the Normans, the Fjallkonaned and the Formorians, all of whom settled throughout Alvez. The resilience of these populations, and assistance from the Tuatha de Danaan of Emain Ablach has done a good deal towards mitigating further attacks, which still occur to the present day. The difficulty in launching a counterattack has prevented the problem from being dealt with conclusively.
Alternative Name(s)
The Northlands, Kaldtsted
Type
Peninsula
Location under
Owner/Ruler
Comments