The Amber Dome
Not since the city of Catun sealed itself within an orb of flame glass have I seen such a spell cast. It is the work of only the most desperate and frightened of souls, to lock yourself away at the mercy of chance and the honor of men. I will follow these events closely, for unlike Catun, these poor souls have some semblance of a chance to survive.
The Festival of the Grove was supposed to be a night of revelry for the village of Woodcreek, the beginning of a new season for the lumber town. Though locals and travelers from across the Shardlands celebrated in earnest, darker forces operated while they planted new trees and the children played. No one expected the doom that loomed over the town to befall its oblivious population.
Stolen from a sacred site to Lady Death, cursed coins originating from the First Men's ancient past were traded in the shadowy alleys of Woodcreek. These Monothic Relics fetched a small fortune in Golden Gazers with The Gray Underground's merchants, a network of black market traders operating illicitly across Haven. As the festivities ended and the traders dispersed with the dawn, they solidified the curse's hold on the town.
As the divine curse began to root itself, the first of many began to fall gravely ill. First fell the children, the young and the soon to be grown; Second fell the elderly, the venerable and decrepit; Last fell the adults, the strong and healthy. As sickness consumed the town, Shardholm's Vanguard discovered its source: a set of Monothic Coins stolen from within the Hillgrove Mausoleum outside town. What was worse, they suspected one of their own had done as his greed consumed all common sense and reason. Their confrontation only made his guilt more apparent, and thus they lashed their traitor in chains and stripped him of rank and honors. Nothing the Grovetender's Guild and their wise druid leader, Lowbark, could do seemed to stave off the illness for anything more than a few short hours. Three children had died by the dawn of the second day. Many more were following close behind them, and in utter desperation, the master druids of the Grovetenders proposed a terrible solution.
The town of Woodcreek would be frozen in time, sealed away in an amber tomb of Primal Life. Preserved and protected until Shardholm's Vanguard could hunt down these cursed coins and return them to the Hillgrove Mausoleum. By blood and honor, the Captain of the Vanguard swore his men would atone for this atrocity. Whether it would take a year or a lifetime, they would return with salvation for the people of Woodcreek. The sun rose on the third day, and they left the town dejected and crestfallen as druidic chanting filled the woodland air. A great shimmering dome rose from the earth, swallowing the village in an orange glow of strange magical energy. A sound like rolling thunder echoed off the hills as it solidified as the orange miasma became like translucent stone, sealing those within away from Haven and time itself. There they would remain utterly trapped until such time as the Monothic Coins were returned to their home, thus breaking the curse and lifting the amber spell.