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Jourat

Year 200 of the Crimson Maelstrom, 1000 ES, Whiteroll (12th of Locus)

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Across the continent of Jourat, an expansive landmass with islands dotting its coasts, is the remnants of an ancient curse upon the people that reside there. Called the *Maelstrom*, in honor of its first appearance, it is a powerful mystical effect. That first incarnation is known as the *White Maelstrom* - a mass of intense winds and Sun-blocking clouds that left behind a world where humans and first-men now had magic, and an coast wracked by volatile sea storms. 200 years later came the second storm, the *Green Rains* - which drenched the world in magical liquid emerald that birthed the creatures of myth and legend into the world. Most recently, 200 years ago, was the *Crimson Lightning* maelstrom - a night of black clouds, howling winds and red scars across the sky. Its coming left behind no appreciable changes but shared with its brothers the act of heralding in a period of great unrest amongst countries and peoples.
The first of these unrests birthed the country of **Belahm**, where this story begins. Each of you have received a letter from the famed *Owl Oracle*, delivered personally by her knights: disturbingly eerie and quiet individuals in feather-designed splint-mail wearing face-blocking helmets styled like owls. The letters request you meet at a location with needed provisions for a dangerous journey, rations, and your most prized possession - specifically the first possession you think of when this question is read. Although in good hands with the Knight, you set off with some trepidation. There are dangerous in the woods of the world, whether they be conniving fey, rampaging goblinoids and beastkin, or stranger things whispered of at campfires and made of nightmares...

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