A myth of the wilds between Thornmire and Nuelhiem
Long ago, before the rise of Ciliren’s towers and before Zindariel was swallowed by mist, there lived a mortal druid named Myrra — a wanderer of the wilds between Thornmire’s alpine woods and the tundras of Nuelhiem. Though human by birth, her soul was bound to the land, and the land, in turn, whispered to her.
The gods did not choose her. The Weave did.
When an unnatural imbalance swept across Eryndor — crops rotting mid-bloom, rivers freezing in midsummer, animals fleeing as if death walked behind them — Myrra sought answers. Her journey led her deep into the Scar of Vaelor, where elemental magic writhed and pulsed with ancient hunger.
There, amidst floating ruins and whispering winds, she encountered something old and dying: a fragment of the dead god Myrkul, whose essence clung to the broken ley lines like frost on bone. He offered her a pact — not of servitude, but of sacrifice.
In exchange for her mortal life, Myrra would be bound to the seasons themselves. She would hold back the entropy threatening Eryndor… but only as long as she remained part of the cycle.
She agreed.
The Cycle of Myrra
From that day, Myrra was no longer wholly mortal. Each Winter Solstice she awakens — beautiful, ageless, and powerful. Her hair is white as new snow. Her voice is the howl of wind over the tundra. She spreads frost, preserves the balance of life and death, and watches from afar.
But with each passing day toward Midsummer, her power fades. Her body twists and withers. Her eyes grow dim. By Highsun she is the Waning Crone — veiled in shadow and regret, hiding in sacred glades or lost ruins, avoided even by beasts.
Signs and Omens
The First Snowfall — When the first snowflake falls, Myrra has awakened in her youthful form, heralding winter’s arrival.
The Storms of the Scar — When the floating rocks of Vaelor flash with stormfire in summer, Myrra resists her fading — fighting the chaos she once quelled.
The Crone’s Moon — A silver full moon ringed in ice near the end of Nightal signals harsh judgment. Myrra will punish the arrogant and reward the humble.
Places of Power
The Waneheart Glade — A secret, frost-kissed grove where Myrra is said to rest in her crone form. Only druids and madmen dare seek her in summer.
The Snowcircle (above Nuelhiem) — A ring of ice-crusted standing stones where the first snow always falls. Local goliath shamans leave offerings there in deep winter.
The Myth in the Modern Era
In rural human duchies, Myrra is whispered about in winter lullabies. Halfling farmers in Talvereth leave cider and root vegetables by frost-rimed shrines, praying for short winters and long springs. Gnomish scholars — especially those from Clockspire and Gleamspire — argue she was not a druid at all, but a proto-elemental, or even a failed fey ascendant.
Some believe Myrra still watches over the land, ensuring the cycles of nature persist. Others see her as a cautionary tale of sacrifice — a reminder of the cost of meddling with forces beyond mortal comprehension.
But all agree: encountering Myrra in summer is an ill omen. If seen in her crone form, legend says she curses with a glance — withered crops, long sickness, frost where none should fall.