Player Principles

Make the Invasion Personal

Consider how Haven’s invasion of Fanewick deeply impacts your character. Let these details inform what they want and what they’re willing to do to get it. Everyone has lost a loved one to the Witherwild or the Serpent’s Sickness, and more are dying by the day. Consider how the growing conflict caused your character to act in ways they aren’t proud of, or transformed personal truths they once believed were unshakable.

Treat Death with Importance

Taking a life should not be done without consideration, desperation, and consequences. As your character journeys, they should remember those they’ve lost and those they’ve slain, allowing each death to affect their choices in the future.

Embrace Vulnerability

Find your character’s humanity and showcase it whenever you can. They should be as vulnerable during quiet moments as they are vicious during violent ones, opening up to their allies even if they close themself off to everyone else.

The Weeks of Day and Night

The day and night cycle occurs weekly, meaning the sun rises for an entire week before setting into a nighttime of the same length. This has an impact on everything from agriculture to trade, as many merchants refuse to travel through the night. But this cycle doesn’t just affect Wicklings, it’s dictated how Fanewick’s wondrous ecology has evolved. Days and nights are accompanied by entirely different natural soundscapes as Fanewick’s nocturnal denizens sleep through the long days and stalk the woods in times of darkness while their diurnal counterparts sleep. The plants similarly live on this strange day-night loop, and many live out their entire life cycles in a week. Sun rose vines make a thorny ascent to the top of the tree canopy over the course of the week, only to wilt under the light of the moon. Conversely, night bloom, a bioluminescent flower that emits the smell of burnt sugar and decay, only blossoms when evening falls, illuminating patches of forest—a godsend to anyone forced to travel in the dark.

The Serpent’s Sickness

The plague sweeping across Haven spares no one. Since the initial outbreak, Haven officials have worked tirelessly to quarantine those in the early stages of the disease, but this effort has done little to stop its spread. Due to the rarity of crimson lady’s veil, many citizens began to carry or consume all manner of flowers and snake sheddings in an attempt to protect or cure themselves.

In the initial stages, victims are afflicted with a hacking cough laden with dust that resembles powdered bone. Then a scaled rash erupts across their skin, cracking their flesh in a unique and painful pattern that resembles a snake’s skin. Not long after, the victims’ bodies harden until their organs solidify and cease to function. The final stages of the Serpent’s Sickness is so quick that many transform into statues where they stand, leaving all of Haven a cenotaph to a once-great power.

Lady’s Veil

These small flowers grow in patches of sun throughout Fanewick. For every ten thousand blossoms of white-petaled flowers, one blooms a unique and vibrant red. These flowers have long been used in herbal teas across the region, with the crimson flowers holding a place in specific ceremonies. Even so, they were only foraged until the Havenites discovered crimson lady’s veil—the only known cure for Serpent’s Sickness.

Thus, the Haven Army invaded Fanewick and began cultivating the flowers on massive farms that have overtaken the region’s bogs. Though the theft of the Reaping Eye has created an indefinite growing season, the red flowers remain just as rare, and Fanewick is permeated by a sickly sweet smell as the Haven Army races to mass-produce a cure for the Serpent’s Sickness.

The Witherwild

This corruption, empowered by the endless spring, is spreading throughout Fanewick. Some believe the overgrowth began in the forest, while others claim it sprang from the bogs. But no matter its origins, this flourishing malignancy induces horrific changes and massive growth on anything it touches, transforming them into Withered beings. Plants spring to life with a desire to consume all around them. Animals grow to immense proportions, with onerous dispositions to match their exaggerated teeth, tusks, and claws. Even harmless creatures that were once hunted for food have become dangerous and formidable adversaries.

When a person is corrupted by the Witherwild, either from a purposeful attack or accidental harm (see the upcoming “Corruption from the Witherwild” section), they are transformed. They become a nightmarish hybrid—their body warped and intertwined with plant or beast. The Witherwild slowly replaces the personality of its victims with the same drive to consume exhibited by the rest of the corrupted Fanewick. Though the Withered may retain a semblance of who they are for a time, they eventually face the final loss of their personhood. Some Wicklings believe the Withered are gifted this power by Nikta’s wrath to drive the forces of Haven from Fanewick and return the Shepherd’s Reaping Eye.