The Kingdom of Mist is a Changeling Fief and part of the larger Kingdom of Albion, known by mortals as England.
Overview[]
Though its official title is Kingdom of Mist, this region is known by many other names among both Kithain and mortals. The Summerlands, the Land of Apples, the Kingdom of Scrumpy, Glastonia, and the West Country are but a few of the local names for this enchanted land. Its strong ties to legends of Camelot and Avalon are perhaps what it is best known for, but there is more to this area than the visitor sees at first glance.
The name of this kingdom dates back to the time of the Sundering. Even as the rest of the world broke with the Dreaming, as the trods became obscured and whole freeholds were being swallowed up, the West Country's ties between the people and the fae remained strong. Even as the two worlds pulled apart, Glastonia remained whole... more or less. While in other areas trods disappeared completely and gates to the Dreaming shattered like falling icicles, much of the Land of Apples was engulfed in strange mists. While many of the places the fae cherished elsewhere lay far from human settlements, in Glastonia fae and mortals lived side by side, drinking from the same wells and observing the same festivals. Some nodded, and said that the mists were the land's way of sorting out what was fae and what was not.
In time, the mists receded, leaving behind a land forever changed. Lakes, islands and glades vanished, and tragically, few noted their passing. It was not until much later that the true power of the mists was realized: During the time they clouded the landscape, they worked a powerful magic on all who lived there, causing them to forget that many of these places ever existed. Many now sec these mists as the same force that clouds changelings' memories of Arcadia.
The Shining Mists[]
From time to time, the mists are sighted in the West Country, and their arrival always means that reality is about to go on hold temporarily. Those who have seen the Shining Mists from a distance describe them as a warm, humid, indistinct cloud, stirred by a light breeze scented with apple blossoms. Pale colors shimmer and dart around within the Shining Mists, almost hypnotically. Those who lose their way in a mist-shrouded area usually remember only wandering briefly in, then finding their way out again. Some return hours or days later, some not at all. It has been speculated that these unearthly mists form a kind of temporary gateway to Arcadia, the Shadowlands, or the Umbra. Some who return from the Shining Mists remember vague visions of the past or future, but most recall nothing at all. Whatever the mists' cause or meaning, most residents of the Kingdom of Mist are neither surprised nor worried when swirling clouds are seen on the horizon. The mists are as much a part of the land as are the hills or the streams, and those who live here wouldn't have it any otherway.
The Two Courts[]
The queen and king of the Mistlands are among the only rulers in the land who still observe the changing of the seasons as the fae did in centuries past. Though the current rulers are sidhe, commoners maintained the tradition of the "two courts" throughout the Interregnum, despite the fact that with each passing year, fewer neighboring kingdoms observed this ritual. Since the kingdom's founding in 1544, two rulers have always reigned; one Seelie and the other Unseelie, The Seelie monarch rules from Beltaine to Samhain Eve, while the Unseelie ruler holds sway over the winter months from Samhain to Beltaine Eve. Though in most cases the two rulers act as king and queen, during those periods when both rulers were male (or female), they have been known as king (or queen) and consort.
Crop Circles[]
In recent years, a strange phenomenon has occured in fields throughout Britain, and recently in America as well. Strange circles and patterns have appeared in fields of grain, with no apparent cause. Some claim UFOs are the cause. Others see signs from one or more deities in the circle. Those Sleepers who study the works of ceremonial magicians of the past and present wonder if the figures drawn with mathematical precision in the fields of the West Country may not portend the work of ancient sages. Scientists have attempted to discover what causes this phenomenon, but as yet they have made no progress.
Nor are they likely to. The whole crop circle craze was started one summer night when Fellowship Hall played host to several pooka. After much drinking and laughing (and not a little mocking of an Order of Hermes mage of mutual acquaintance), several highly inebriated mages and changelings decided to have some fun. The results have been recorded in every tabloid and New Age journal in Europe and America, and many have taken up the challenge to produce fanciful designs in fields across the world. Apparently the fad has ended, for no new circles have been found lately in the area. Or are they simply waiting for the interest to die down so they can do it again?
Cities & Sites[]
Bath[]
A gathering place for the rich, the infirm, and vacationers since the time of the Romans, Bath remains popular among modern travelers. The reputed magical properties of its healing waters have drawn pilgrims from all over the Isles and the world. Where the ancient Britains saw the work of the goddess Sulis, Roman conquerors saw instead the familiar face of Minerva, goddess of wisdom. Legends tell that Shakespeare's King Lear once came here to take the waters, and older legends still connect the Bard's aging king with older tales of Lyr, a sea deity. This age-old struggle between forces of order and formal wisdom with those of sensuality and a wisdom older than words has left its mark on the city and the stories that celebrate it. Clearly, the waters of Bath have stirred the imagination for centuries. But what do modem supernaturals find in this society town in the West Country?
It is said that the modem city's architects knew of the magical properties of the land, and sought to focus its energies through complex figures and runes enscribed into the Earth through the circles and crescents that make up the modem city's streets. But despite apparent attempts to codify and control the wild energies of the waters that give Bath its name, despite the veneer of polite society frosting the salons and parlors along its gently curving streets, the inherently sensual nature of the place shines through.
- See also Fellowship Hall
Glastonbury[]
Glastonbury stirs the imagination, even in those unfamiliar with fae history. Its ties to the Arthurian legends as well as other ancient British and Irish tales, its rich Christian history and, more recently, the modern annual festival of music and arts have kept the town and its environs rich in Glamour as few other places are. Glastonbury owes some of its privacy to the British public transit authorities, for while most "sights" are serviced by daily trains from London, travelers who wish to reach Glastonbury via public transport must first take a train from London to Bath, a bus from Bath to Wells, and finally another bus from Wells to Glastonbury. Unlike Stratford-upon-Avon, Glastonbury has managed to avoid drawing a constant stream of tour busses, and not a single fast-food restaurant or high-rise hotel mars the high street. The throngs that come to the arts festival, drawing performers from across the globe (and producing a flood of Glamour as well) each June camp in nearby fields, and most travelers during less busy seasons stay in the abundant bed and breakfast homes. Glastonbury's residents prefer it that way. While improved transportation and accommodations might draw more tourist money, the effect it would have on the spirit of the place would be irreparable. And that is something that the supernatural denizens of the area will not allow to happen, not when Glastonbury is possibly the most potent magical spot in Britain.
Tourist Glastonbury[]
In many areas, the coming of Christianity brought with it a new kind of Banality, which forbade the notion of things fae. But in Glastonbury, the old, the new and the eternal have managed to meld together into an area rich in Glamour and story, where people of diverse faiths and philosophies have been able to come together in peace... most of the time. The initial establishment of the abbey provoked conflicts between the Wyck ofthe area and the Christian missionaries, though in time the two groups came to live in peace. The destruction of Glastonbury Abbey was commanded by King Henry V III, as a result of his break with the Catholic Church, and it is notable that this was the result of politics between mortals — not disputes between the Awakened. Barring problems with Tremere vampires, the supernatural denizens ofthe Vale ofAvalon have kept the peace longer than even the stones remember.
Glastonbury Tor[]
Glastonbury Tor is a terraced hill rising up from the surrounding countryside. Its presence can be felt for miles around, just as its imposing shadow falls over the fields and streams of the land at its base. A tower is all that remains of a small chapel that once stood atop the Tor, and in modern times sheep and New Age pilgrims are the only ones likely to be seen on its banks. Some smoke or light incense in the shelter of the tower at the summit, but most find the atmosphere of the place itself heady enough without further stimulation.
Chalice Well[]
At the foot of the Tor, a walled and landscaped garden surrounds one of the most famous wells in the Isles. Believed by ancient Christians to flow with the blood of Christ, the Chalice Well was supposedly the final resting place of the Holy Grail. Local legends state that the initial struggle between the pagan people of the area and the Christian missionaries ended when a chalice filled with the blood of one of the Wyck was placed at the bottom of the well. Modem scholars now attribute the water's ruddy color to iron deposits deep underground, but the variety of tales linking the well to blood magic are enough to give one pause. Other traditions tell that the goddess Brigid left her bag of healing herbs buried in the ground near the well, and that its power continues to infuse the water with healthful properties.
Those who have seen the passing of the years, such as Megan of Bride's Lodge, claim that the well itself has no innate magical powers beyond the slight dweomer possessed by anything which has been the subject of so many dreams and legends. The water is healthful, but no more so than that from any other well in the area.
Wearyall Hill[]
Said to be the site where Joseph of Arimithea (a merchant uncle ofJesus Christ) planted his staff in the ground, producing a thorn tree, Wearyall Hill has long been revered by Christians. But before and since, its more ancient ties to the land and its people have been known to the changelings and their allies.
Local legends claim that the tree will burst into bloom in the presence of royalty. In truth, there was a time when the tree would bloom in the presence of true royalty, but it had less to do with the crowns on their heads than the blood that pulsed in their veins.
The origin of the legend comes from the fact that the tree is attuned to the land and its most ancient guardians, the fae. Some say that it was planted from a cutting brought from Arcadia, while another variant of the legend states that it was a gift from the local sidhe ruler to a magician who traveled from a far-away land more than two millennia ago. Since the Shattering, the tree has grown more sensitive to the presence of Glamour, as it has ebbed from the world.
The royal line of England once carried the blood of the fae, but since the throne of England was assumed by foreigners who held no true connection to the land, that blood was lost. Although over the ages many rulers from abroad have come to govern England, in the past those who governed the land formed a connection with it, whether through the ancient marriage or other, long-forgotten rituals. However, the Germanic house of Windsor (nee Saxe-Coburg-Gotha) bore none of the fae blood, and dismissed the warnings of those who asked that they bind themselves to the land. The ancient thorn therefore senses no connection between modern royalty, the land or the fae, so the tale of the tree blooming in the presence of royalty has been dismissed as just another old supetstition. Others claim that in the presence of the true high king of Britain's changelings, the tree will burst forth in a shower of chimerical blossoms. Nary a bud has been seen on the tree of late, and it is whispered that this does not bode well for the changelings nor the land.
Glastonbury Abbey[]
In the heart of town sit the ruins of Glastonbury Abbey, destroyed by the soldiers of King Henry VIII when he broke all ties to the Catholic Church in the 16th century. When messengers brought word of the approaching army to the abbey, a formidable force soon assembled there. Verbena mages from the hills joined with the un-Awakened clergy and their Celestial Chorus brethren, and changelings and spirits converged on the site. The abbey was a special place, a sacred space whose power transcended lines of religion (despite the efforts of some of the clergy who dwelled within). But shortly before the arrival ot the king's soldiers, Abbot Richard Whitting, one of the many assembled, whose life's work was dedicated to the teachings of Christ, addressed the crowd. Though he saw only the mortal seemings of those before him, he recognized both familiar and unfamiliar faces in the crowd. He was deeply moved by their devotion, but he knew that no good could come of opposing the king's wishes. Retribution was not theirs to mete out, he insisted.
Reluctantly, the crowd dispersed, watching in silence as the company of foot soldiers stormed the ancient place. And the abbot was drawn, quartered and hanged atop the Tor. Though they did not interfere, many of those who had gathered that day vowed that they would never allow pain such as this to mar the spirit of the land again. And if the soldiers had some trouble burning the place down, surely they blamed their ill luck on the evil spirits and fairies of the place. Perhaps they said the same for the indistinct shadows that haunted them at the edge of their vision for weeks and months to come. And if many among that company died within a year of their experience in Glastonbury, surely that was not unusual for soldiers in those days.
- See Also The Glastonbury Compact
Freeholds & Hangouts[]
Stonehenge[]
See the article Stonehenge
Avebury[]
For some reason, Avebury hasn't attracted the flocks of tourists that her sister circle of Stonehenge has. Both are located not far from Salisbury. Both are sites of tremendous magickal and historical importance. Both have been the sites of moots, revels, and rituals, but Avebury remains relatively unknown while plastic Stonehenge sno-globes can be found in shops for miles around. Admittedly, Avebury lacks the majestic "hanging stones" of Stonehenge, but the circle itself extends far beyond that on Salisbury Plain.
While the "power" lying just below the surface at Avebury might not be equal to that of Stonehenge, it is comparatively untainted by disbelief, disappointment, and development. Here, local Kithain still gather to talk, stargaze, and mark the turning of the seasons, and tell to tales of days long past.
Locals[]
The smallest ofall the Albion Kingdoms, the Mistlands have kept many of the traditions alive that other kingdoms have forgotten over the years. The practice of the two courts, presiding over summer and winter respectively, has been observed here faithfully for centuries. Commoner and sidhe, Seelie and Unseelie, the ruling pair is like two sides of one coin, which is just as it should be.
References[]
- CTD. Isle of the Mighty, pp. 39-45.