Hadrian's wall is haunted by dead Roman Soldiers . To cross it you must appease the dead spirits. To this end the Scotts have (ironically) enlisted a warlock to help stop the English from crossing the wall

Standing stones and druid circles throughout the lands buzz with activity. As the house of Plantaganet has never produced a child of infernal leanings before, it is rumoured that they are the true origins of the child - their infernal natural magics giving rise to the pregnancy.

The prejudice against them increases greatly, and the Great Houses are calling their Men at Arms and hiring mercenaries for the purposes of killing these unnatural beasts.

The Nobility have augers in attendance at each birth of a child, to chart his potential disposition, mystic potential and future dooms. These can be changed, but grant insight into major aspects of the child's personality and affect their schooling. Certain children have been known to be cast out to die - some of these survive and rise into firebrands.

These firebrands periodically raise small armies, meaning that each house can expect to be in at least a major skirmish once every generation.

A small dojo has sprung up in the slums of London, a festering carbuncle of orientals. These monks refuse to allow London to claim the dojo for its own and keep it filled with flowering plants, exquisitely clean and lead detached lives within. The exterior of the building shines, seeming lit from within compared to the grubbiness of the slums.

It acts as an embassy from the Jade Emperor of the Celestial East. While the Monks are regularly at court, none have seen the Monks enter or leave their home - indeed, there is no door except on a full moon.

They say that Scotsman magic is dead, their shaman's butchered in battle and wise-women hanged on the cliffside gallows of Hag's End. Since those terrible days the fog and night of Scotland have been whispered to be full of evil spirts, unseelie, and demons. Officially, the magic of England has banished all manner of Scottish devils, but the wise know not to venture alone and without charms and blessings. Especially if one has English blood in them.

Raiding parties of otherworldly Vikings have been sighted along the southern coastlines, pillaging both friend and enemy alike. Though their appearances are sporadic and seemingly unconnected, the augers suspect more nefarious purposes at work.

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>The royal Sorceror, the fearsome John D

The Giant's Causeway marches across the Irish Sea. it is above the sea far enough to be safe from errant tides and all but the highest breaking waves, but is permenantly covered in stormy night. Treacherous and dark, lightning strikes the ocean continually around it. It joins at the Isle of Man, and then continues it march onward, coming ashore at Holyhead. There are rumours of unseely things crossing to England - certainly the Rowan walled settlements of the isle are best nightly by Wights. The division of the sea in this way makes the Isle an important location, with two heavily defended shipyards of England so that crews can disembark on one side, travel by convoy to the other and take ship once more.

Across the waters on the blood-drenched fields of France, war rages ever on. The French claim English magic to be blasphemy and surround their fortresses with the charred and staked corpses of English men-at-arms. Their army is said to be protected by miracles, even angels themselves, and led by a young lady whose mouth spits flaming swords and suffers no wounds. However, tales grow of church dungeons filled to the brim with the tortured and mutilated, and prisoners whisper of French knights paying terrible prices for infernal pacts.

Undead wolves burst out of the ground by the paths at night and eat passersby. A group of men known as "The Diggers" have been assigned the thankless job of reburying any rogue undead wolves they see.

Graveyards become death-traps for those of infernal inclinations. Britain's noble dead have become restless from the panic overtaking the country, and may yet rise to defend the motherland.

The Ministry of Intelligence has begun its own efforts to defend against the Celtic hordes. Bands of cockney orphans have been enlisted to assist England's nobles as their eyes and ears, as well as spies and daggers when necessary .

Necromancy is an old profession, and much reviled as something only the common would do. While many houses consort with necromancers, they do so in secret so as not to be associated with something so.. common. Gravediggers are rarely Necromancers, strangely. Most Necromancers work with a single companion at a time; a shade, zombie, skeleton, or further awakened being such as a bloodwisp or liche as their strength permits, and further either enhance it or attempt to afflict their opponents with disease or manipulate their life force.

Jonathan Strange, Magician-in-Ordinary to the War Minister, has surrounded the coastline of England (facing Europe) with a cerulean flame a kilometre out to sea. These flames do not burn, but merely prevent serious storms from crossing their boundary.

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Mohammadens do no magic.

>>24142350
>women's guilds prepare for war
Versimilitude ruined

>>24143567
Rather, a golden age is currently taking place in the Mohommaden World. Great advances with science and earth and alchemy have been made, and are used to enrich the lives of those within the Mohommaden Caliphate.

>>24143584
>
The Worshipful Cluster of Nurses and Doctors Assistants? The worshpful company of weavers?

They say that Mohammedans do no magic, but this is not true. While magic is strictly proscribed and its practitioners put to death, beyond the watchful eyes of the imams the old ways flourish and find their way into respectable rites and customs. Even in the bustling marketplaces one can find, albeit with some difficult for those without connections, all manners of potions, charms, and amulets for sale. And it is said that no ruler goes a day without consulting a soothsayer or captured jinn in secret.

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The Djinn watch from their invisible world, and wait with envy. For now, they are eclipsed, and the worlds of man are beyond their reach, and as it has been since the time of Solomon, their only way to the material realm is at the whim and beckoning of fools. Still, they wait, and whisper to each other, in words of smokeless fire.

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Mark isn't really sure how he ended up here, but he's really cold and wishes he had a shirt.

It is said that those that know the secret of casting cold iron are being picked off one by one, their bodies found floating down the river, their tongues cut out. Neither winter court nor summer court take the credit, though they wish that they could.

Somewhere north of Cornwall is a farmer named Robert. With his wife, he has two sons, and a daughter.

They will soon have a poor harvest.

The incipient Black Prince is attended at all hours by his mother's golems, and regularly by John D. What neither of these two entities know is that the boy is also attended by daemons, whispering vile blandishments into the ears of one too young to speak or even understand, the speakers hidden from those around. Thus far his inherent purity of spirit protects him from the words worming their way into the unformed depths of his mind.

There is an edict in Byzantium, dating from 880 by the Emperor that no bodies shall be burnt, and all graveyards, and the contents therein, are Imperial property.

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It is regrettable that Cardinal Richelieu hasn't been born yet.

The realm's two strongest Houses, the Montarons and the Xzars are at one another's throat constantly. Each is embroiled in a constant state of war, sending nearly unending floods of armsmen and retainers at the other. This leaves the rest of England untouched by design of the two houses as they drive one another further into ruination.

Mordread has risen from his deep tomb in Glastonberry, riding a great dragon and seeks to raise an army to become king!

In Ireland, the fabled spear of Cú Chulainn, Gáe Bulg, has been found.

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The old ways of the North seem to again take hold and the Danes rally again, under the banner of the Gallows King as he styles himself. Christian men find themselves strung up from trees, one eye plucked from their heads as the Danes spread, and ships report raiders upon the seas.

Saint Ephiphenous of Rye was such a holy man, that upon the time of his death,a great light was seen by many illuminating the chapel where his corpse was lain, a great crowd gathered, for the corpse had been cooked by the light. A sermon was given to the crowd and at its ending the priest picked up the two thigh bones and made the sign of the cross, all those who behold the sign were cured of their illness, weather it be blindness or lame, and those who had the palsy or angered guts did vomit forth thier illness in the form of serpents and many legged toads that fled the sight of man and raced into the nearby swamps.

Meat will turn bad if you keep it out too long.

>>24142350
>waits and lusts after the child

REALLY

THAT'S THE BEST WAY YOU COULD WORD THAT

HONESTLY

>>24144038
Y'know, I read that, but since there were a bunch of mildly interesting posts, I decided not to. But now that that cat's out of the bag...

The terrible sorceror, John D wishes to gift the child with his namesake.

>>24144050
>Meat will turn bad if you keep it out too long.
>>24144038
That is exactly how I meant it.

Rowan and other magical woods are farmed. As sovereign against wights and spirits and evil witches, these are incorporated into every structure in part, along with cold iron. While they do not grant complete immunity, most beings will simply move on in search of easier prey.

I do not give a single shit about anything else in this thread.

OP, I would like to subscribe to your newsletter.

>>24144407
Uhm, thanks. There are a bunch of these in suptg, try New Jhelom. I forget the rest, it's been a while since I've done it.