The Mourning

The nation of Cyre was once the heart of the kingdom of Galifar. The Last War took a heavy toll on Cyre and its citizens, as the nation became a primary battleground where the Five Nations crossed swords. But no one was prepared for the disaster that struck in 994 YK. Accounts of the Mourning vary. Some say that a blinding light engulfed the battlefield near the Saerun Road. Others say that dead-gray mists rose in the capital city of Metrol and spread from there. Within the space of one day, the nation of Cyre had been engulfed in a wall of mist, and anything caught within the mists was horrifically transformed.  Over a million Cyrans were killed on the day of Mourning. Those who survived were soldiers fighting in enemy territory, those living on the borders who were able to flee from the advancing mists, and those few who were able to escape the interior through magical means. On 20 Olarune 994 YK, the nation of Cyre ceased to exist. The Mourning threw Khorvaire into a state of shock. Who could unleash such power? Was this a weapon, and if so, when would those responsible issues their demands? Were the borders of the lingering walls of mist stable, or could they expand at any moment? What was to be done with the Cyran refugees surging into every adjacent nation?  Fear of the Mourning ended the war. But all those questions remain unanswered. Breland opened its borders to refugees, and Prince Oargev serves as de facto ruler in the area now called New Cyre. Despite its grand name, New Cyre is little more than a vast refugee camp. Other refugees scattered across Khorvaire; some are treated with pity, others with suspicion or anger. And fear of the Mourning hangs like a shadow across Khorvaire. Could it happen again? Is this how the world ends?
THE MOURNLAND A wall of dead-gray mist surrounds the remnants of Cyre. Beyond the mists lies a land twisted by magic, a wound that will not heal. The blasted land is strangely transformed. In some places, the ground has fused into jagged glass. In others, it is cracked and burned. Broken bodies of soldiers from various sides litter the landscape-soldiers whose dead bodies refuse to decompose. The Mournland is a vast open grave. In that horrific landscape, vile magical effects linger, and monsters mutate into even more foul and horrible creatures. Magical effects continue to rain upon the land as storms that never dissipate. Stories speak of living spells-war magic that has taken physical form, sentient fireballs and vile cloudkills that endlessly search for new victims. And angry ghosts continue to fight their final battles. The only thing predictable about the Mournland is that nothing is predictable; any sort of monster or horror could lurk within its borders. And yet it also holds the wealth and treasures of an entire nation, along with the secrets of House Cannith and everything else that was left behind. It's dangerous. It's mysterious. But it's also a dungeon the size of a nation, with opportunities for those brave enough to enter the mists.

Conflict Type

War