What it is:
The boundary around the Evergild fae lands isn’t physical—it’s magical and atmospheric. It started as a ritual or spell meant to contain the Evergild’s influence and separate them from those who did not follow their path. It was a choice to seal themselves off, slowly and gracefully, rather than a war or revolution.
Why it matters:
It wasn’t built in violence, but in forgetting. As the boundary grew, so did the mist and the fading of memory. The Shrouded Fens emerged as a consequence, not a punishment. Nature responded to imbalance, not with aggression but with quiet resistance: mist to obscure, silence to dampen magic, distance to dull influence.
Where Marshby fits:
Long ago, Marshby Cross sat on the edge of a shared world — a borderland between fae lands and the free realm. It was never meant to be more than a waypoint: a few homes, an inn, a trade post. But that made it perfect — neutral ground. People passed through. Stories were exchanged. There was no strong claim.
The fae, perhaps in the early Evergild period, attempted a boundary spell to contain their gilded realm — but did it badly, or without consent.
Marshby sat near the casting site. The spell altered the land permanently and the fens spread from there.
Old Foss’s role:
Years later, Foss found it—not by sight, but by feel. He sensed the wound in the land. The stillness of the rosemary, blooming where it should not. He didn’t cast spells. He just marked the place, an offering to memory. A cairn already existed—placed by others over time as they travelled past. Foss only added the rosemary.