Beneath the pellucid protection of Howling Hills resides a fraction of a once grand realm, tied to the city by hallowed chains. The Elysian Fields remain a reprieve for all but those aligned with despair as Elysian, having stood as a resplendent world of positive alignment, bathed its residents and visitors in soothing energy and for some a great comforting warmth. An energy that often harms those of the opposing alignment. 

It is of little surprise to many historians that Elysian served as a meeting space for the living to reconnect, commune and recharge with their ancestors and deities. It is even less so that the grounds of such resplendent magic were quickly overrun when corruption seeped into the universe, leaving the thrones and beauty of Elysian fields as a mere echo of past grandeur.

Over the centuries leaders of the St. Diago’s Church told tales of how Elysian fell and only a portion, named “Elysian Fields” was saved. In the final days of Elysian its Innate protectors fought to hold back the remnants of their loved ones turned Aberrant - securing only a small portion. With the aid of a small envoy sent to Earth’s St. Diago’s Church, the Innate of Elysian and leaders of the church anchored the Elysian Fields to the mortal plane, subsequently protecting it beneath the Veil.

Charged with protecting the portal to the Elysian Fields, the leaders of the church ensured those with neutral or positive alignment could enter. But in June of 2024, St. Diago’s Church was destroyed, shattering the portal and consequently severing the way to the fields. All that remained was a foggy green vapor that lingered for hours.

Elysian Fields Library Tomes

"These radiant tomes are imbued with radiant power, their covers adorned with shimmering gold filigree and glowing glyphs that pulse with positive energy. Each spellbook is a repository of sacred knowledge, containing spells and hymns designed to heal, purify, and protect.

The pages, crafted from ethereal parchment, are indestructible by mortal means and radiate a comforting warmth. The contained texts appear written in a celestial script, often shifting to accommodate the reader's understanding. Some books hum with faint melodies, while others emit a soft, golden light that illuminates their surroundings.

Bound to the very essence of Elysian Fields, these spellbooks cannot be removed from the demi-plane. Any attempts to transport them to other realms result in their immediate return to their original resting place. These sacred texts are said to choose their wielders, granting their wisdom only to those whose intentions align with their holy purpose, ensuring their knowledge is never misused beyond the boundaries of the sanctuary.

While many readers often leave feeling frustrated and unrewarded, a select few are rewarded with ancient protected celestial magics. Powers such as resurrection, banishment, planar binding, warding, healing, shielding, and even abilities to manipulate sacred flames to sear the enemies of all that is 'holy' are hidden within these sacred texts. 

In addition to spells, many books include the histories of Elysian Fields. They teach that the pocket dimension was once a physical realm on a planet in a different solar system than earths, far across the cosmos in a place where 'positive energy' would coalesce and congregate. These worlds were once a host to many Intangible entities which thrived in the positive auras of these realms. When the Corruption hit the universe, planets all across the cosmos were infected at once. Elysian was one of these worlds. Thankfully, Intangibles of this world were in contact with humans on Earth who worked together to save portions of the planet in pocket dimensions such as the one these very tomes now reside in. 

In addition to the histories of this realm, the tomes also teach hierarchies of various Intangibles throughout the universe. These tomes can be read by any and all, providing insight into the roles and relationships of divine and infernal beings. However, the hierarchies are more conceptual than definitive and are meant to inspire understanding of the greater cosmic balance rather than to impose rigid structure. These entries reflect their dynamic and fluid natures, offering readers a glimpse into their ever-shifting dualities across the universe."

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[If you'd like your character to learn some magic from these tomes, please ask a DM to witness a dice roll. You may attempt this roll once a week.]

At the edge of existence in a forsaken corner of the universe, there once was a planetary system referred to as The Obsidian System. It was a realm where hope was sent to die. Shrouded in perpetual twilight beneath a red sky, it lay battered by forces unseen as cosmic horrors twisted its denizens into something less than human and more than monstrous.

No records remain of whether these dark powers were invited in or if they conquered the world by force. It no longer matters. What endures is the legacy of a civilization that built itself on cruelty and thrived on malice.

This world was not merely steeped in darkness… It was a nexus of depravity. A beacon for suffering. Deception, chaos, and unrelenting strife coiled through the realm as if they were living living things, weaving through the minds of its people and twisting their very souls. From this pit of ruin arose their greatest achievement: the Obsidian Towers.

A monolith of malevolence, the towers did not simply collect negative energy; they devoured it, siphoning malice from across the cosmos to blight the land and bleed the skies. The presence of its power was suffocating and intoxicating. The towers did not ask. They commanded.

Across the universe, various innate, intangibles, macabre, and all who worshipped the darker arts felt its pull. They sought its power, going so far as to claw their way through the fabric of reality to drink from its endless well of twisted energies. Some borrowed its might from afar; others tore through spacetime itself, stepping onto the planet's cursed soil to claim its gifts in flesh and blood. Here, they found a paradise of the profane. A sanctuary for those who had forsaken the light.

But even the damned are not beyond destruction.

[2:06 AM]

When the Corruption swept through the universe and twisted magic into something unrecognizable, the planet that bore the towers fractured. It teetered on the edge of oblivion, moments from total collapse. And yet, at the precipice of annihilation, a powerful spell was woven by the founders of the Veiled Sanctum Church in Howling Hills, Vermont. Whether it was out of reverence or fear, they salvaged a fragment of the ruined planetary system, severing a piece of its wickedness and tucking it away within a hellscape of mortal design.

Within this dimensional sanctuary, the Obsidian Towers endure. They persist in shadow, hidden yet accessible to those who know… to those who seek. A refuge for the wicked, a gateway to the abyss. 

To this very day, the Obsidian Towers still serve as a universal hub for the vile and hedonistic. If power is what you crave, the towers may very well call to you. Are you strong enough to endure their lessons?

The Hall of Black Baccara is an ancient structure located deep beneath the Rosenthorne Cemetery. It is a place of eerie beauty and profound dread, its name derived from the lush red roses that grow from the soil and the obsidian stones that map out the Halls. The resident flowers are known as Black Baccara Roses. Said to bloom from the blood-soaked soil, their petals blossoming as a remnant of tragic love story and death that haunt the halls. Legends claim that for each rose, a soul claimed by the hall has found reunion in death. Should one wish to pluck a rose, they find its thorns drawing from the blood of the harvester. If the blood is not that of The Macabre or one with an essence that understands the meaning of true love, the Roses will wilt and die. No one knows as to why the roses favor some over others. Perhaps a mystery to be uncovered.

The ancient Halls are more than just an archaic structures, but a historical entity unto itself. The former home of Count Thorne and his beloved Bride Rose. A historical couple that carved out the halls as a sanctuary for The Macabre in the early years of the Howling Hills Settlement back in 1796. Now, they are left pulsing with an unsettling magic that causes a dark aura to linger about the place. A scar left behind by the rich history of tortured love and divine judgment that once purged the Macabre from their sanctuary so long ago.

Now a days, the halls are a place where the macabre nobility and denizens that prefer the dark gather together among themselves. Those who have called the halls home for a long time, remember the lingering history of the fateful day the Church of Golden Light lay siege to the Halls. Though few speak of such dark times, many sworn to secrecy for fear history will repeat itself. Some outside of the noble bloodlines have uncovered fragments of the centuries of forgotten lore, but many are left with questions about what dark secrets remain to be uncovered.

(OOC: Should someone wish to rp a macabre noble of the Black Baccara Bloodline. Please submit a Lore Ticket. This is an option!)

The heart of the Halls is known as the Tomb of Sorrows, a grand chamber of white obsidian beauty tainted with an ominous atmosphere. At its center hangs a coffin, suspended in mid-air by black silver chains. This coffin is said to obtain the spirit and body of the Former Count of the Halls of Black Baccara. Forever clutching the ashes of his beloved Countess Rose. Though, none have dared desecrate his memory by trying to open the coffin to find out. Not that it can be so easily opened. Those attempting to touch it find themselves thrown back a few paces and it remains heavily warded against magical interference.

Throughout the hall, whispers tell of the Sister of Mercy, a creature once entombed within a similar suspended coffin. She was once a member of the Church of the Golden Light, a zealous faction that hunted and destroyed beings of the macabre and all of those who exist outside the natural order of life and death. She had once been entombed by Count Thorne himself, imprisoned for the murder of his beloved Bride Rose. Once bound by enchanted chains and powerful runes that took his very life to create. Now the Sister of Mercy roams free, her where abouts unknown. The Enchanted Chains and coffin carved with powerful runes now missing. What fools had released her into the world?

The Hall of Black Baccara to this day welcomes all that wish to seek refuge and peace from the world of Judgment. Where a dark aura may linger, it also call to The Macabre with a promise of safety and untold history that is damned to be forgotten lest someone uncover the truth of what happened here.

In the late 1800s, a group of The Alluring, sought refuge beneath the waves as the world above fell into chaos. These water-dwellers fled to the large lake near Howling Hills and established Maris Sanctum. Though far from the ocean, The Alluring believed in Poseidon as their protector, seeing him as the god of all waters, be they lakes, seas, or oceans.

Though the Sanctum was located in a freshwater lake, the supernatural energies surrounding Howling Hills allowed sea and freshwater creatures to coexist, blurring the lines between these environments. The Alluring believed that Poseidon’s reach extended to all bodies of water due to these mystical forces, and thus, they maintained their devotion to him, trusting that he would protect them in their new sanctuary just as he had in the oceans.

At the heart of Maris Sanctum lies the Temple of the Depths, where the Council of the Tides once governed. This temple served as the center of spiritual and political life, where The Alluring worshiped, made decisions, and safeguarded ancient relics within the sand cave halls. They believed the magic of the lake carried Poseidon's blessings, allowing them to thrive even far from the ocean's depths.

Nearby lies Old One’s Seal, a sacred graveyard where The Alluring honor their dead by offering both sea and freshwater life. The Maris Residential Community, crafted from shells, debris, and remnants of shipwrecks, houses the families of The Alluring, while Maris’s Maw, a secret chamber shaped like Poseidon’s head, is where intimate rituals and new life are celebrated.

Cultural life flourished in the Clamshell Theater, where The Alluring gathered to perform and celebrate their rich history. For rest and healing, they visited the Geothermal Springs, where the warm waters were believed to carry Poseidon’s healing touch, offering comfort and rejuvenation. Here, the magic of the lake was strongest, and The Alluring believed it was a sign of Poseidon’s continued guidance, even in these distant waters.