Misty Isle

The paleskinned mistfolk can be found in the island in the inner shrouded sea. Little is known about them, some say they aren't even human, but they seem to be masters of water and air magic, and have cloaked their lands in protective mists, that cover much of the sea that surrounds their island.

## Excerpt taken from “The Encyclopedia of the South” by Citadel Scholar and Professor Leonard Targomas

"*Our voyage towards the southern lands led us to the Lands of the fabled Mistfolk of the Misty Isle, home to strange clouds of fog, priestesses of air and mist, water mages and a water demon with its ghostly soldiers. What little we know of the Misty Isle and its inhabitants can be attributed to several witnesses, some being a thousand years old, with others more recent. It was Professor Alvan Nattestad who compiled all of these accounts roughly ten years ago, and I believe our findings during this voyage can shed light on some of them.*"

### History

*"Not much is known of the Mistfolk’s history. The very first written mention of the Sea of Fog and the Misty Isle can be found in the archives of a lunar temple in the Ta’lunasir city of Mar Muinne, and is dated to almost two thousand years ago. A record that is dated to only a hundred years earlier refers to the Sea of Fog and the Misty Isle with different names, as well as referring to the latter as uninhabited. Nattestad, therefore, comes to the conclusion that the Mistfolk came to be around these hundred years, with the record of this event being absent from the Ta’lunasir archives, at least as of now.*

*What we know from all other interactions with the Mistfolk is that many venture to the Misty Isle, but few come back to tell the tale. Those that did have described the Mistfolk with characteristics that belong to either humans or elves, but with some key differences, such as their skin and eye color, as well as their language and mannerisms. Thanks to a groundbreaking discovery during our expedition, these uncanny similarities and differences can finally come to light. My company and I have come to the deduction that the Mistfolk came to be when men and elves alike were corrupted by a power whose nature I will unveil on a later chapter. Since many brave adventurers and sailors have gone missing after landing on the Misty Isle, I am fairly certain that this corruptive power has not ceased and instead keeps “turning” outsiders into what we now know as the Mistfolk."*

### Mistfolk

*"As I mentioned before, the Mistfolk are of pale skin and their eyes can be a shade of yellow, blue and light grey. They are on average taller than men and elves alike. Some older individuals, described as “Elders” have been said to have markings on their chest, arms and face, whose purpose remains unknown. The individual that we were able to capture closely resembled a Ta’lunasir Elf of the Moonlight Shores, while most accounts have given them a more human-like appearance.*"

### Government

*"Although we are unaware of who the Mistfolk’s leader is or the structure of their government, we can assume that they get to reside in the large building that resembles a castle or a palace, which stands on top of the large hill at the middle of the island."*

### The Misty Isle

*"Even though thick fog shrouds it most of the time, the large Castle and the surrounding town and ports can be visible with clear skies, from both the west and the east. The buildings are made of what appears to be thick, grey stone, a material that’s not used in the architecture of their neighbors. Not only that, but there are also a lot of fishing boats and vessels sailing around the Sea of Fog. From that, it is clear that the Mistfolk are miners as well as fishermen, and perhaps their society isn’t as strange as we perceive it on the outside. The shallow waters of the Sea of Fog are filled to the brim with razor reefs, stranded tree logs and treacherous rocks that emerge out of the water. Even if one were to discount the mist that looms over this land, it is no wonder how many ships that cross this sea fail to reach their destination."*

### Culture

*"Most aspects of the Mistfolk's culture are unknown to us, although it’s safe to assume that some elements of the Ta’lunasir and human cultures have remained after their… transformation. A passage from the recovered journal of a Seagardian sailor mentions how the Mistfolk are able to manipulate the flow of water using a series of whispers and whistles, an ability whose extent we were able to witness ourselves later on. Regardless, it seems that the Mistfolk place great importance on the elements of water and mist. When we captured our unfortunate Mistman, he spat and cursed us in a queer language, and it sounded like the wind through leaves, rain on water, or the sound of stones in a brook. His voice was mesmerizing, it being as pure as winter air.*"

## Religion

*"Although I am embarrassed to say it, I do admit that my partners were less lenient with our prisoner than I was, and blinded by their zeal used methods of torture upon him. Despite my protests, our mage succeeded in making him lead us to their leader, after threats of further torture. We hopped onto a small boat, and followed our prisoner’s instructions. He led us successfully through the misty waters, using a type of magic that could manipulate both water and air. We were surprised when we found ourselves entering a large grotto. What we encountered there was nothing short of a marvel. Salamanders of a myriad colours, pristine blue waters, stalagmites and stalactites, and a cave system that could house an entire city within it. However, our sightseeing was cut short when we heard splashes and footsteps back at the entrance of the grotto. We gagged the captive and quickly hid inside of a hidden alcove. A group of Mistfolk passed by us, heading deeper into the cave. "We were led into a trap", I thought at first.*

*Our mage used all of his powers and was able to cast a protective field that would shield us from unwanted eyes, at least for a short time. We followed the Mistfolk deeper into the cave, and we found themselves in a huge chamber, larger than any I’ve ever seen in my life. This subterranean shrine was filled with hanging vine and trees with red leaves growing emerging from the floor of the cave. In the middle of it was a creature that I fail to describe with words. It resembled a huge toad, the size of at least 20 horses. Its face was unlike that of any toad, instead looking more like a human’s skull, only covered by a thin layer of skin. Two giant, wrinkly hands were protruding from its body.*

*The Mistfolk laid out three prisoners of their own race in front of this Demon. After examining them closely, it snatched them with its hands and devoured them as the prisoners screamed and begged for mercy. After it was done, it spoke in a strange tongue, and began singing with a voice that sounded like it belonged to a beautiful woman. Three men dressed in fancy robes and wielding staves with exquisite gems on them (we believe that these could be either their priests or court sorcerers) began dancing and chanting alongside it. This song… it still hunts my dreams. It matches perfectly with the Mumak legend of a song echoing across the lake, a legend that is more than a thousand years old. This Demon... it was no other than the mythical Raksasa, the Demon of Song, with its maiden priestesses who would lend it their voice!*

*After its song ended, it opened its mouth and clouds of mist started flowing out. The moment that happened, we scurried out in panic, and I managed to take a last, frightened look behind me. It was then that I finally noticed that there was a fourth prisoner, chained to the wall. The mist had almost completely engulfed the room, and only the prisoner was still visible. Although some of my companions claim that my mind was playing tricks with me, it was clear as day. This dark skinned warrior, chained to the wall… the longer I looked at him, the paler his skin got. Our theories were true. The legends were true as well. Before leaving the grotto, I took my dagger and slit our prisoner’s throat. This -no doubt about that- was the God of the Mistfolk. The God of Transformation, the Father of the Mistfolk, who could only be satiated by the taste of human flesh, and in return would lend his children the powers to control the mist and the waters in order to protect their lands.* I still can't figure out the reason that our prisoner led us to their sacred grotto. *I wonder if it wasn't a trap, as I initially thought, but perhaps it was a call for intervention, a call to be freed from the tyrannical shackles of this primordial creature that ruled over his people. It's impossible to know, and all we can do for the time being is ponder about it.* "

### Foreign Relations

*"Almost all interactions between the Mistfolk and the outsiders are unanticipated, and it seems that the Mistfolk made a pact with the toad-like demon Raksasa, and in turn they protect their lands and their secret with fervor. The Mistfolk seem to be self-sufficient, as contacts with the outside world are nonexistent. The only way for this to be reserved is through the death of Raksasa, and the elimination of the treacherous fog that surrounds the Misty Isle. But who’s to say that the Mistfolk wouldn’t be able to cast it back again? Truly, there’s still so much we don’t know about these elusive people.*

*After this chapter, I will write down accounts that spoke of the Mistfolk, accounts which I mentioned at the first chapters."*

**The following excerpt was written in the journal of a Seagardian sailor:**

*"Misty Isle? No one goes there. Not unless you want to drown. Razor reefs will cut your ship to splinters, and that's if you can even get that far through the damn mists. Even on the clearest day it seems to come out of nowhere, soon as you get with eye sight o' the place.*

*Ol' Derrig says he's been there, but these days he spends more time in his cups than on the waters. Says he was out on a whalers ship, chasing down a right big bastard. They had the hooks in 'em, and it was bleeding something awful, but this boy was big. Big 'n' mean. Dragged that ship straight toward the isle. That ship never came back, that's a fact. But Derrig says he washed ashore. On Misty Fucking Isle.*

*Now here, if you pardon my pun, is where the story gets foggy. Sailors that get in wrecks seldom come back alive, and when they do, well, y'know how it goes. Anyway, Derrig says he washes ashore. Says the island don't look like it belongs in them there seas. Says he walked the beach until he saw these pretty structures, look like none made by the hands o' men. Almost as if they had been grown out of the rock and trees around them. He also says he met 'em. One of them mistfolk.*

*Derrig said they got a strangeness to 'em. The way they look. The way they move. Uncanny like. Not like normal folk. Slow. Deliberate. He says the one he saw came over to him. An old man, an elder. Had markings on his face. He looks at Derrig, and looks back to the town. Beckons Derrig to follow. Brings him just outside the place, right at the walls, to small dock where a little wooden boat was floating in the water. Motions to get in. Derrig does. Now the next part sounds like nonsense to me, but he says the old man leans down, and whispers something under his breath. Derrig swears he wasn't talking to him. He was talking to the water. And wouldn't you know it, the boat starts moving. On its own! Takes him right back to our dock it did. But that's he says, and he's in his cups more than on the water."*