The Monasteries of Old Redpalm

Virdwelian instructors often warn their initiates of the importance of studying the tragedies of history, so as not to repeat them. Among the populace of Virdwel, no event is more well known than the strife of Old Redpalm. Early in the second nocturnal era it was the most bustling metropolis throughout the western regions, known for a wealth of celebrations and revelry. The city's expansion was documented to be so rapid and unchecked that tents would appear in the streets overnight and visitors would use immature cropland as a place to set up temporary hovels. This issue became so rampant that structured housing was eventually secondary to makeshift shelters.

This depravity grew to a state that bile and urine saturated the alleyways and the sensible foundation of Redpalm was muffled under the veil of degenerates that lived for their next indulgence. The affluent were robbed, the ill left to their demise. All the while, authorities from the capitol were not in a position to send trained forces to quell the disturbances due to a political quarry overseas. Over two years the reputation of the bygone cityscape turned as rancid as the air it harbored. Laborers sought work elsewhere, academics abandoned what few institutes had been established, and a vacuum of order brought lawlessness to an all-time high.

Intervention came directly at the hands of Ao'di. She cared not for the pleas of downtrodden commoners, rather her act of salvation to this day remains a curiosity. One week into trade season locals were sobering up due to claims of repetitive night terrors. Then acts of arson swept the city so abruptly that smoke clouded it from end to end, not dispersing until the next dawn. Smolders covered the ground like fresh snowfall, and for the first time in a long while a different odor permeated the air. All but a select few buildings were torched through, leaving behind cobblestone rubble and nine distinct establishments. Nine of the most trafficked inns and taverns now stood as ash-stained remnants of a city gone sour. There are no records of witnesses that survived the event.

Commoners no longer trek the roads of these antiquated ruins. The now weathered havens have turned dusty and damaged, but clergy devoted to the will of the goddess visit these sites so as to show penance for the hubris of their ancestors. Bushels of wheat and herbs are carted from Grainhelm to these taverns, some to be used for ritual matters and the rest left as harvest offerings. Now, eras later, their signs and names are long lost to time, but farmers know well of the monasteries of Old Redpalm.

Virdwel

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Monastery