Storyline

 

The House of Brightwyna

 

The House of Brightwyna are human-deer descendants of Cernunnos. Their lineage pulsed with ancient forest magic, and their antlers, which grew in elaborate spirals and patterns unique to each individual, were considered living symbols of wisdom and heritage. The House was founded deep within the cradle of an ancient mega caldera, a place of breathtaking desolation where the air shimmered with toxic vapours. Most who dared enter perished within hours. But the House of Brightwyna, over centuries, evolved a rare immunity, their lungs adapting to the sulphur-laced mists and their bodies imbued with resilience unknown to outsiders. Though isolated, the House of Brightwyna was far from idle. They were the greatest artisans of golden torcs the world had ever known. Forged in volcanic heat, each torc was a masterpiece. The finest pieces were said to resonate with the wearer's bloodline, awakening dormant abilities or ancestral memories. These torcs became coveted by kings, warriors, and mystics across the realms. Among them, one ancient torc stood apart, it was said to grant its bearer the power to understand and speak with any living creature. But envy festers where beauty flourishes. The neighbouring human tribes, driven by greed and suspicion, feared The House of Brightwyna’s growing influence. During the brutal War of Torcs, these tribes unleashed a genetically-modified virus designed to survive in the caldera’s hostile environment. The House could not withstand this engineered plague and it fell swiftly. The caldera became a tomb and the ancient torc was lost in the chaos; its fate unknown.

 

Brightwyna

 

Brightwyna is the sole known survivor of the House of Brightwyna, a living relic of a lineage thought long extinguished. Their antlers mark them as heir to the sacred bloodline of Cernunnos, yet Brightwyna no longer lays claim to titles or thrones. Instead, they walk a solemn path as a psychopomp, a guide between worlds. It is their sacred duty to escort newly deceased souls to the afterlife, cradling their final breath with reverence and tenderness. Brightwyna’s home lies nestled in a grove shrouded in perpetual twilight. There, they tend a fragrant garden of everlasting honeyed daffodils, each bloom enchanted to release a beguiling fragrance. Those who inhale their sweet scent soon find themselves helplessly ensnared by Brightwyna’s spell. Within their stone sanctuary lies an extensive collection of votive statues; gifts left by the departed and those who still dream of the dead. Brightwyna is also a gifted diviner, known for their rare and haunting practice of dendromancy. In this ritual, Brightwyna enters a trance state, often beneath the open canopy of a sacred tree, drawing forth visions from the land itself. Using bark, leaves, petals, lichen, and sap, they scatter organic matter onto raw canvas. The materials fall guided by the deep will of nature, forming patterns that answer the questions Brightwyna dares to ask. These paintings, ephemeral yet charged with insight, offer glimpses of futures both near and far, joyous and grim. Brightwyna has lived for centuries, untouched by time’s ordinary decay, yet their heart has known love only once. That love came in the form of the trobairitz Comtessa Beatriz de Dia, whose soul Brightwyna was tasked with escorting to the underworld. The moment their eyes met across the liminal veil, something ancient and aching stirred in Brightwyna’s heart. Unable to bear the thought of her vanishing into silence, they pleaded with her to sing song after song in rich Occitan verse. And so, Beatriz sang. Her voice wove through the dark like a thread, suspending her passage to the underworld with each note. For a time, Brightwyna believed they had tricked fate itself. But even songs must end. And when Beatriz finally passed beyond the threshold, Brightwyna wept. They have not fallen in love since.

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