Witherus the Lost

Witherus "Worldwalker" Voidin (Withervoid) is a mystic of Ancient Zhonian blood, first appearing in Eldham on April 9th, 2022.

Origins
After wandering through harsh wilds, Witherus appeared on the icy shores beyond Uzhon amidst a great and terrible blizzard. He was taken in by the Mushroomican merchant Misha Silvertongue (Stabbr8), who nursed the ragged man back to health and got him settled in Uzhon.

Over the coming weeks, the two became good friends, with Misha introducing Witherus to the customs and authority figures of Zhon. Witherus also aided the locals in the preparations for the wedding at Mt. Moss Point.

As time went on, however, it became clear that Witherus knew more of Zhon than he had let on initially. Expressing surprise and veiled concern at the various new idols and temples to the gods, as well as the ruinous state of many old Zhonish structures, Witherus asked his new friends many questions in attempts to “catch up on things”.

All evidence points to Witherus being centuries old at the least.

Moss Point Monastery
After his first few weeks in Uzhon, Witherus decided to move from his house in the city to an abandoned shack at Moss Point. The place was a fixer-upper, sure, but he made things work, and preferred the quiet and peace. Further, this home was closer to the wedding project he was aiding with, and the ruins of an ancient underground city that he held an odd familiarity for.

He hopes to rebuild Ancient Zhonish structures to their former glory, namely the great fortress-monastery atop Moss Point, wherein he would teach a new generation of Wizards of the Old Ways.

Beliefs
Here lies the recorded Truth of Creation, as written by Witherus’ own hand: ''In the beginning of time there lived Wik, the Author of Creation. He always existed, and always would. Wik gazed at the void all around him, and knew it needed to be something. So, after long thought, he Spoke. Wik created the First Letters, with them the First Words, and with those the First Language, that which he used to shape reality to his wildest imaginations, merely by speaking those words. As time went on, as an Author writes a Setting for their story, Wik spoke of the sky, stars, sun, and moon. He described the crashing oceans, the sandy beaches, the jagged mountains, the knobbled trees, flowers of every color and make. And, as an Author does to any story they write, Wik left little pieces of himself in the things he made. Over time, Wik created the Spirits. Spirits were embodiments of that aspect of Wik— of streams and mountains and trees, lava pools and caverns, mushrooms and coral, the stars and clouds— and all the personality those had— that could think and respond back to him. They possessed no physical body, but were like characters in his Great Story, and contributed to it all in their own way. He did all this, just for the joy of creation, the similar joy to a parent making their child smile, taking pleasure in every exquisite detail, from galaxies down to atoms, perfectly beautiful in its own way. Wik saw it all, and knew it was good. The Masked Lord was once a great and good Spirit, but became filled with pride, parading himself a God equal to Wik. Other Spirits joined in, and fled to the depths of the Earth, to plot in secret. These sought to create their own version of Creation without Wik in mind— but since Wik is all that is Loving, Beautiful, and True, their Realm is all that is Selfish, Boring, and Insubstantial. Worse still, Wik unveiled his greatest creations— the Humans, and other races younger, that dwelt on both the Mortal and the Spiritual Realms, and possessed bodies in both. These were not just challenges to their false authority— but insults to the attempts they made at Creation! So in their rage, they sought to Corrupt the mortals Wik made— to turn them against Him, and against themselves, and ultimately destroy the world, so their new vision could be built on the ashes. The first mortal civilizations became fraught with selfishness and violence, as the rogue Spirits, now the evil Specters, clouded the minds of mortals with wicked ambitions, and whispered the secrets of Dark Magic to the First Warlocks. Out of them were born the undead, phantoms, creepers, and other monsters formed out of corrupted Spirits, used as weapons of war. The Nether Realm became a place for these Warlocks to gather and plot, where they could more easily contact the Specters they drew power from. All this and more Wik knew, and he was heartbroken at the Spirit’s betrayal and the fall of humanity. So, speaking through his loyal Spirits, he taught the few good mortals the Words of Magic, to aid in their struggle. These Wizards, eventually the Scribes of Ancient Zhon, have practiced, preserved, and protected the Sacred Magic since the Fall. Their land was blessed as a sanctuary, warding off many monsters that plagued the world. Even after the origins of the dark mages and monsters were long forgotten, they honored and listened to the Spirits, and served Wik, keeping an eternal vigil in their fortress monasteries. But as time went on, people took the lack of monsters for granted. With safety came complacency. Belief in Wik and his values started to fade, and so did the power of the Wizards. The monasteries and great cities crumbled. The last great Wizard left on a pilgrimage, in search of a way to resurrect his dying culture— and never returned. That was centuries ago. Nowadays, the native Zhonish have assimilated with Rhineland immigrants. Their old faith is barely remembered, and little respect is given to it, compared to the New Gods introduced by the Rhinelanders. The Masked Lord has managed to use tact and trickery to masquerade as an Elder God, and although good Spirits still attempt to wake the Zhonish to the truth, the mortals interpret their dreams as Zhonus or a minor God. But one day, that old Wizard finally returns. He calls himself Witherus the Lost.''

Personality
Witherus appears a kindly soul of great wisdom and faith. Although he retains the knowledge of magic and the Spell-Tongue, and the history behind them, gaps exist in his centuries-spanning memory. He himself doesn’t remember much from his travels beyond the World’s Border.

The change wrought by the Masked Lord saddens him deeply, and he wishes the old faith reinstated.