*This is a piece of fictional lore that I've chosen to create to give my time in Landmark more meaning. Players are welcome to adopt this story as part of their own role-play in game, and expand upon it to include their own origin world/claim world tales! I've done my best to include what limited existing game lore there is, so as to be as inclusive as possible to varying play-styles.Thank you & enjoy! Lumeria, The In-Between "Let me guess." An indistinct old man rambles at you as your head spins, the pair of you somehow suddenly sitting perched on the edge of some loud, unreal, ancient-looking spire. "It was dark, and the world was spinning. A moment ago you were someplace familiar, where your every day made sense. You were home, and for better or worse, it was YOUR universe. You knew the rules. You knew the places, the land, the stars, the peoples and creatures. There were systems for you to follow, and you followed them through your every day and your every night. It might not have felt that way, but a moment ago, your life was simple. "And then, the twinkle of that light blue crystal in your hand was the first thing that sparked some awareness. Its soft, pulsing, other-worldly light is still warm in your palm, isn't it. "Did you pick it up? Did you trip on it stepping out of bed? Did it fall on you from somewhere, was it given to you by someone...where did it come from? I imagine, you cannot remember in this moment, as the world still spins and your stomach still clenches from the vacuum of that darkness. "Next you knew of course, I wager, that chiming, vibrating sound overwhelmed you, and suddenly, you were here. "Well. Welcome, traveler." The old man gives you a wry, sad grin. "You are NOT home." He sighs and scratches his head wearily for a moment. "Fact is, you may never find home again. It's best to accept that now, dear friend, for I can tell you in my aimless decades here that the pursuit of that which was, will only eat you alive. Send you vacant and gutted into the chaos caverns, where far too many wayward travelers devolve into slaugs, or worse. "No, it is best to accept what is, and survive. "Let me tell you about your new world. "First, it is not one world, like you knew. Where the universe was seamless, and only one set of rules governed the ways of things. This place, if it can be called that, is known by its longer term inhabitants as Lumeria. We Luminaries came, like you, much by accident to this pocket of life. "(And those that sought to come here and abandon the reality they'd known, well, be wary of them. Madmen & Fools.) "But to point, Lumeria is not one place, one land. It is none and all. On the surface, it is a cluster of impossible continents and copies of them, like one might find in a skipping dream. But mostly, it is the In-Between. Here you will find pocketed links to other places, other worlds unlike you can imagine yet, coming from your limited life. "Do not mistake these pockets as stable portals. Do not settle in a familiar nook and decide you have found a trick to get home. "Yeah, some folks do that, thinkin', it's all right-end-up again, world's where it's supposed to be, and power to em'. Pity and humor to them, clinging to what they know. But all the same. Step one toe out of the pocket and it could go. Poof. Then where are they? You? Pfft. "The pockets do not last. They are not stable. They are like echoes. Windows at best. The only constants in this In-Between are confusion & change. "Oh, and the exploding fungi. Nasty things, burn like, well, I'll be polite since you're new. Just, you hear something ballooning up nearby you run, take my word. "That said, this place could be worse. Dangers are rare. Don't climb and fall, won't be any to help you. Avoid the slaugs and whatnot worse, that live down, way down in the chaos caverns. Only the desperate & treasure junkies head down thataways anyhow. "Oh, and be wary, each new pocket you find yourself stepping into. Every last one, the rules change, as if made by different gods. I've seen up be down, and big be small, and creatures and villains from near every storybook I read as a child, and... well. Just you be wary." For a moment the old man pauses, and shifts his gaze at the now setting sun, frowning. "Bah. Nightfall. Lastly, then. Some basic tips. Since you're clearly new. "Ain't no coin. No real economy, not enough stability for it. Trade comes and goes, but as things shift in and out, it's hit or miss as far as fortune seeks. Some folks are kind, some play games to take you for your worth. Nothing's ever truly free. "Ain't no proper food as there's not much for game. I know you hear the birds, and things, but like I said, echoes of the In-Between. Meat comes from lucking out in a 'pocket before it poofs. There's some indigenous plants that can be cooked, that won't eat you, but well, guess that brings me to that other bit about this world not really being a world. "See, you sit here long enough, poke around long enough, you'll find you can poke near anything you want or need into existence. Some older Luminaries call it 'power of the dream,' but I wager it's just some seepage of science into your bones as you go. Dig a bit, learn how to transform dirt into things of use. Maybe make a pocket of your own... if it can be called that when it doesn't really go anywhere. "Yeah, there are some places that don't pop in and out. Like these spires. Older pockets sometimes linger long. I found some ruins once, and an old road that seemed perma- scarred across an island like this.. oh, of 'course. "That crystal there. The one in your hand. The one that got you here. It's how best to get around. Thumb it. Think of where you'd like to go. You get used to the drop, and the dizziness. Promise. "Just don't waste your time trying to think yourself home. Here is home now. Make yourself a life & friends if you can. Safety in numbers. More like sanity in numbers, really. Speaking of. 'Fortune find you." In a zip of light and sound, you see the old man thumb his pocket and vanish, leaving you alone beside the echoing, glowing spire. You cannot help but feel a bit adrift, in the unfamiliar dusk. "Welcome indeed."