As told by the Dowager Countess
It is tale told in the quietest tones, in the closest guarded rooms, with doors bared and the fires stoked. It is a tale of terror, a tale of fear, a tale of death of innocence, a tale of a lost and confused god. This is the tale of Myra Lyca. Millenia ago, this world of ours had a different name, a name now lost in time and magic. It was a world where the ancestors of most of you lived tribal natures, whether they be human, gnomes, elves or dwarven-kind. This world had many gods, as many as the tribes that that roamed the land.
One of these gods was Myra Lyca. His people were numerous and strong. They held dominance over the continent that is now called Galia, before it became home to the Izon Supremacy and their Gods. He was a cheerful and generous god and his people loved him greatly. Myra Lyca and his people lived in peace and, in a tribal way, prosperity. They were advancing beyond their tribal state and starting to build towards what we would now call a ‘democracy’. Every one of his people had a say in the direction of their fledgling nation and no one person ruled over them all.
Myra Lyca was so happy with his people, that he decreed that on every full moon, he would visit each and every family, removing illness and blessing their home with gifts and longevity. How could he do this? Well, dear listener, that was well within the power of the Gods back then. It is said that your Gods now are a shadow compared to the Gods of old. Oh, what’s that? Oh, you ask about the Gods of the Supremacy? Now that is a conversation for another day dear, and one I feel may unsettle you.
Now, where was I? Oh yes… Each full moon for a generation Myra Lyca visited all of his children, keeping them safe from disease, ensuring good harvests and creating exquisite gifts from silver for the children. His people were happy and envied, and Myra Lyca felt proud of his work.
Then, came the day of ‘The Arrival’, and our world changed forever. For the first time, your ancestors saw dragons and the raw power of magic as the Izon people arrived. Unfortunately for Myra Lyca and his people, their home was the center of ‘The Arrival’. Myra Lyca strived in vain to defend his people and protect them from harm, but his power was not sufficient to ward them against the wild magic that had been unleashed by ‘The Arrival’. Driven nearly mad by feeling the deaths of his people, Myra Lyca howls of pain were heard around the world. In panic for the well being of their own children, and I would say with fear, the rest of the original gods of this word did not come to his aid, leaving Myra Lyca to watch as the last of his people were swallowed by the magic of ‘The Arrival’.
It is said in those moments, his sanity broke and was lost forever. Legend has it that a great power amongst the Izon saw what had occurred reached out and saved the last of Myra Lyca’s people in a bubble of time forever. The legend further says that most of the essence that was Myra Lyca was drawn into that time bubble to nurture the last of his children for all time evermore.
What we all know dear listeners, is the tale that scares you all as children, that keeps you praying to your gods, and your doors and windows bared on the full moon, the tale of Myra Lyca. The spirit that roams the world and strikes on when the moon is full. The spirit that howls as it tears apart your neighbor, your landlord, your father. The spirit that spreads an incurable disease in the survivors of its attacks. This is the spirit of Myra Lyca. Wear your silver jewelry, grow aconite around your house, keep your fires well stoked, this may all help, one never knows….