Tales From The Myst Update: Touching Grass
These stories have evolved through my Sims 4 gameplay. After getting Realm of Magic, I was inspired to create a fantasy tale of legendary beings living in an epic world. The backstory below was playe...
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Warning: spoilers for Werewolf pack lore.
This is purely a text story. I wrote it as a writing exercise to fit my backstory for Morgyn and the Myst in with the new lore from the Werewolf pack. As I've said, my goal is to develop this game story without deviating too far from the characters of the premade occults as they are in game and sticking as closely as possible to the in-game lore. I was pleasantly surprised to find that my backstory could fit within the new occult lore without many changes. Here is my attempt at reconciling the two.
Mooncasters, Mages and The Myst
Morgyn Ember took his bearings as he flashed into the entryway of The Blue Moon Tavern. Seeing that the “OPEN” light was turned off, Morgyn understood this meant the mystic business was not currently in the human realm. Situated in a dimensional and supernatural crossroads, with no fixed point in time or space, the Blue Moon Tavern maintains a habit of slipping in and out of human contact at the will of its proprietor. When it is open, it's available for all who can find it. When closed, it retreats into The Twilight. Luckily, Morgyn is one of the few who can always find it whenever they want. At least, until Oberon Lazuli decides otherwise.
Morgyn gave a slight rap on the door and waited for his friend and mentor to answer. He was surprised to see a young woman pulling it open, but he was not nearly as surprised to see her as she was to see him.
“Ummm... we're closed,” she said, her voice betraying confusion as she waved a hand toward the light.
“I see that.”
“We never see anyone when we're closed. I'm not sure it's even possible.”
Morgyn smiled. “Well, it's a good thing I'm not just anyone. And, for some people, anything is possible. Is Oberon in?”
The young lady seemed to be trying to decide between slamming the door in Morgyn's face, or making some kind of stand against this unexpected intruder. She drew herself up, preparing for whatever her next action would be, until a quiet voice from behind made her pause.
“Let him in, Anaya. It's fine.”
Anaya visibly relaxed at her boss's assurance, and standing aside, let Morgyn Ember enter The Blue Moon.
As Morgyn's gaze swept the familiar barroom, a wave of nostalgia flooded over him. Even before Morgyn knew him, Oberon Lazuli had been an instrumental force in his life, even to the point of keeping him alive in his childhood. It was Oberon who arranged for his adoption to human parents. It was Oberon who mentored him as his powers manifested and guided him along the path his ancestors had laid out for him. And, it was Oberon he sought out whenever he needed insight into hidden and dark things.
Morgyn found his friend sitting at the fireplace, reading. Oberon looked up from his book. His sparkling blue eyes met Morgyn's and he waved a friendly hand in invitation. Morgyn sank into the opposite chair with a sigh.
Oberon laughed softly and spoke to the young lady still hovering nearby. “Anaya, please bring Mage Ember something strong. I think he needs it.”
“A new companion?” Morgyn asked, as Anaya made her way across the room and disappeared behind the bar. “What happened to the other one?”
“Oh, Mau is still here. Still a cat who was once a Spellcaster.”
Morgyn drew a sharp breath. Something about the comment was causing him apparent distress. Oberon pretended not to notice.
“Poor Mau has an unfortunate propensity for skunks, though,” Oberon continued. “As you might expect, it severely limits his companion-ability. So, when Anaya showed up and wanted to stay, I was open to the idea.”
The young lady in question returned with a pot of something hot, strong and soothing, then discreetly disappeared downstairs. As Morgyn sipped the concoction, he felt his equilibrium returning, somewhat. Setting his mug down, he turned to his companion.
“So. What do I do?”
Oberon arched an eyebrow. “About?”
Morgyn frowned. “You know what I'm talking about. You know everything. The people of Forgotten Hollow are trying to establish an alliance with The Myst.”
“So I've heard.”
“We can't do that.”
“Why not?”
“You know why not.”
“Ah, yes. That whole Spellcaster/werewolf war with the vampires thing.”
“It's hardly just a thing. It's history. The vampires have always been the enemies of the Spellcasters and the werewolves. We have a fairly strong alliance with Moonwood Mills. They will never accept Forgotten Hollow, no matter how sincerely Caleb Vatore tries to convince anyone otherwise. And neither will the Spellcasters in The Myst. But, to directly turn them down risks antagonizing an already touchy situation.”
“And, why do you bring this to me? Is this not a matter for The Myst, and especially the Spellcasters, to resolve... Maestri Ember?”
Morgyn started. Very few people knew his true title, and no one ever used it. No one.
“What?” Morgyn's tone was defensive as he perched on the edge of his chair.
Oberon leaned in, fixing Morgyn with an intense gaze. “It seems to me the Spellcasters created this mess. I don't look to them to repair it. At least, not any time soon. But I have to ask, how does this involve the last of The Arcanes?”
Morgyn gripped the arms of his chair as Oberon continued.
“The Spellcasters created a bit of a problem, overreaching with their limited knowledge of magic, creating both vampires and werewolves. The rivalry has existed for ages and is undoubtedly violent and intense. It will not be easy to resolve. But what about you, Morgyn Ember? You who are the Last of The Arcanes. The Arcanes, who are the progenitors of all magic. The Ancients. You, Maestri Morgyn Ember. You are not a mere Spellcaster. So, what does this all mean for you?”
Morgyn's voice became strained. “When my people knew they were a threatened race, they imparted magic to humans. The human Spellcasters... made... mistakes.”
“I would call that an understatement. Their inability with Untamed Magic resulted in vampires who attacked them. Their need for defense resulted in werewolves who have difficulty controlling their animal instincts. And on top of all that, they destroyed the Magic Realm... originally the home of The Arcanes and the source of their own magic. Yes. I would say they made some mistakes.”
“If we had not given them magic, none of this would have occurred.”
“True.”
“But then, the magic would be dead.”
“Also true.”
Oberon refilled their mugs, then sat back in his chair, thoughtfully watching the steam drift above the rim of his cup.
“You are in a unique position, Morgyn Ember. You are Arcane. You are not a Spellcaster, even if your strongest alliance and identification is with them. If the Spellcasters in The Myst can't accept Forgotten Hollow, then that is certainly their privilege. And, if the residents of Moonwood Mill never accept the people of Forgotten Hollow, so be it. But never forget... you are not one of them. Never forget who you are.”
Oberon took a slow, careful sip of his drink before continuing.
“Besides, a position of neutrality from someone with great power can be a great advantage if all involved should collectively face a uniquely different threat. Then alliances become much more desirable.”
“Threat? Like what?”
Oberon smiled. “As I told a certain ambitious vampire, that remains to be seen.”
Morgyn was about to press Oberon about his visit with Caleb Vatore, when a strong odor assailed his nostrils, making him gag.
“Oh, my...what?” Morgyn choked, his eyes watering.
Oberon cringed. “Mau.”
As the Spellcaster turned servile cat proudly traipsed through the room to his supper bowl, the rancid smell of skunk wafting behind, Oberon and Morgyn retreated to the outdoors for some fresh air.
“I should work on a reversal for that curse,” Morgan commented, between coughs.
“I wouldn't bother. I have a feeling he likes it this way. Besides, I'm not sure it would change his affinity for skunks, and I'd much rather bathe a cat. But Morgyn?”
“Yes?”
“A very supernaturally strong deodorizer would be greatly appreciated.”
This is purely a text story. I wrote it as a writing exercise to fit my backstory for Morgyn and the Myst in with the new lore from the Werewolf pack. As I've said, my goal is to develop this game story without deviating too far from the characters of the premade occults as they are in game and sticking as closely as possible to the in-game lore. I was pleasantly surprised to find that my backstory could fit within the new occult lore without many changes. Here is my attempt at reconciling the two.
Morgyn Ember took his bearings as he flashed into the entryway of The Blue Moon Tavern. Seeing that the “OPEN” light was turned off, Morgyn understood this meant the mystic business was not currently in the human realm. Situated in a dimensional and supernatural crossroads, with no fixed point in time or space, the Blue Moon Tavern maintains a habit of slipping in and out of human contact at the will of its proprietor. When it is open, it's available for all who can find it. When closed, it retreats into The Twilight. Luckily, Morgyn is one of the few who can always find it whenever they want. At least, until Oberon Lazuli decides otherwise.
Morgyn gave a slight rap on the door and waited for his friend and mentor to answer. He was surprised to see a young woman pulling it open, but he was not nearly as surprised to see her as she was to see him.
“Ummm... we're closed,” she said, her voice betraying confusion as she waved a hand toward the light.
“I see that.”
“We never see anyone when we're closed. I'm not sure it's even possible.”
Morgyn smiled. “Well, it's a good thing I'm not just anyone. And, for some people, anything is possible. Is Oberon in?”
The young lady seemed to be trying to decide between slamming the door in Morgyn's face, or making some kind of stand against this unexpected intruder. She drew herself up, preparing for whatever her next action would be, until a quiet voice from behind made her pause.
“Let him in, Anaya. It's fine.”
Anaya visibly relaxed at her boss's assurance, and standing aside, let Morgyn Ember enter The Blue Moon.
As Morgyn's gaze swept the familiar barroom, a wave of nostalgia flooded over him. Even before Morgyn knew him, Oberon Lazuli had been an instrumental force in his life, even to the point of keeping him alive in his childhood. It was Oberon who arranged for his adoption to human parents. It was Oberon who mentored him as his powers manifested and guided him along the path his ancestors had laid out for him. And, it was Oberon he sought out whenever he needed insight into hidden and dark things.
Morgyn found his friend sitting at the fireplace, reading. Oberon looked up from his book. His sparkling blue eyes met Morgyn's and he waved a friendly hand in invitation. Morgyn sank into the opposite chair with a sigh.
Oberon laughed softly and spoke to the young lady still hovering nearby. “Anaya, please bring Mage Ember something strong. I think he needs it.”
“A new companion?” Morgyn asked, as Anaya made her way across the room and disappeared behind the bar. “What happened to the other one?”
“Oh, Mau is still here. Still a cat who was once a Spellcaster.”
Morgyn drew a sharp breath. Something about the comment was causing him apparent distress. Oberon pretended not to notice.
“Poor Mau has an unfortunate propensity for skunks, though,” Oberon continued. “As you might expect, it severely limits his companion-ability. So, when Anaya showed up and wanted to stay, I was open to the idea.”
The young lady in question returned with a pot of something hot, strong and soothing, then discreetly disappeared downstairs. As Morgyn sipped the concoction, he felt his equilibrium returning, somewhat. Setting his mug down, he turned to his companion.
“So. What do I do?”
Oberon arched an eyebrow. “About?”
Morgyn frowned. “You know what I'm talking about. You know everything. The people of Forgotten Hollow are trying to establish an alliance with The Myst.”
“So I've heard.”
“We can't do that.”
“Why not?”
“You know why not.”
“Ah, yes. That whole Spellcaster/werewolf war with the vampires thing.”
“It's hardly just a thing. It's history. The vampires have always been the enemies of the Spellcasters and the werewolves. We have a fairly strong alliance with Moonwood Mills. They will never accept Forgotten Hollow, no matter how sincerely Caleb Vatore tries to convince anyone otherwise. And neither will the Spellcasters in The Myst. But, to directly turn them down risks antagonizing an already touchy situation.”
“And, why do you bring this to me? Is this not a matter for The Myst, and especially the Spellcasters, to resolve... Maestri Ember?”
Morgyn started. Very few people knew his true title, and no one ever used it. No one.
“What?” Morgyn's tone was defensive as he perched on the edge of his chair.
Oberon leaned in, fixing Morgyn with an intense gaze. “It seems to me the Spellcasters created this mess. I don't look to them to repair it. At least, not any time soon. But I have to ask, how does this involve the last of The Arcanes?”
Morgyn gripped the arms of his chair as Oberon continued.
“The Spellcasters created a bit of a problem, overreaching with their limited knowledge of magic, creating both vampires and werewolves. The rivalry has existed for ages and is undoubtedly violent and intense. It will not be easy to resolve. But what about you, Morgyn Ember? You who are the Last of The Arcanes. The Arcanes, who are the progenitors of all magic. The Ancients. You, Maestri Morgyn Ember. You are not a mere Spellcaster. So, what does this all mean for you?”
Morgyn's voice became strained. “When my people knew they were a threatened race, they imparted magic to humans. The human Spellcasters... made... mistakes.”
“I would call that an understatement. Their inability with Untamed Magic resulted in vampires who attacked them. Their need for defense resulted in werewolves who have difficulty controlling their animal instincts. And on top of all that, they destroyed the Magic Realm... originally the home of The Arcanes and the source of their own magic. Yes. I would say they made some mistakes.”
“If we had not given them magic, none of this would have occurred.”
“True.”
“But then, the magic would be dead.”
“Also true.”
Oberon refilled their mugs, then sat back in his chair, thoughtfully watching the steam drift above the rim of his cup.
“You are in a unique position, Morgyn Ember. You are Arcane. You are not a Spellcaster, even if your strongest alliance and identification is with them. If the Spellcasters in The Myst can't accept Forgotten Hollow, then that is certainly their privilege. And, if the residents of Moonwood Mill never accept the people of Forgotten Hollow, so be it. But never forget... you are not one of them. Never forget who you are.”
Oberon took a slow, careful sip of his drink before continuing.
“Besides, a position of neutrality from someone with great power can be a great advantage if all involved should collectively face a uniquely different threat. Then alliances become much more desirable.”
“Threat? Like what?”
Oberon smiled. “As I told a certain ambitious vampire, that remains to be seen.”
Morgyn was about to press Oberon about his visit with Caleb Vatore, when a strong odor assailed his nostrils, making him gag.
“Oh, my...what?” Morgyn choked, his eyes watering.
Oberon cringed. “Mau.”
As the Spellcaster turned servile cat proudly traipsed through the room to his supper bowl, the rancid smell of skunk wafting behind, Oberon and Morgyn retreated to the outdoors for some fresh air.
“I should work on a reversal for that curse,” Morgan commented, between coughs.
“I wouldn't bother. I have a feeling he likes it this way. Besides, I'm not sure it would change his affinity for skunks, and I'd much rather bathe a cat. But Morgyn?”
“Yes?”
“A very supernaturally strong deodorizer would be greatly appreciated.”
