This was a setting introduction for a campaign that never happened called Reinhold and the order of the sun.
Some moments exist in time, just waiting to happen. Completely frozen in stasis by some sort of powerful force. Like a train who’s conductor has yet to pull the throttle.
Some such moments are of great importance but others are far more mundane.
The Capitol city of Reinhold, Eclipse, exists in such a moment, Countless travelers, vagabonds, and holy men journey to see Eclipse’s Shimmering white metal towers that aim to pierce the sun itself and Winter festivities around the colder months of the year.
Inside this tiny frozen bubble, children sit, frozen in the streets with smiles and hints of laughter on their face. Guards Litter the streets on their daily patrols and attempt to keep the peace. Bakers, With arms outstretched hawking wares and pastries made of cinnamon and peppermint.
And behind closed doors in the Palace, the Holy Vessel of the sun sits on his throne, surrounded by his advisors and family, all telling him what to do and how to live.
The vessel stands up from his throne, the palace around him eerily silent as it sits in it’s frozen state. He has wandered these halls for what has felt like an eternity, waiting for something to happen, for someone to come, But every single day that he wanders to the gates nothing changes, nothing stirs. The World is Dead.
It has been that way for as long as he can remember, and yet every “day” he wakes up, sits on his throne and sees the same faces, frozen in place.
What is a man to do? What is a child to do when the entire world around them dies in a single instant. The Solar Festival of the Winter’s Sun refuses to pass, refuses to move along. The sun, a grim reminder of what the world was, sits in the same spot every single moment of his waking breath tormenting him, taunting him, beckoning him.
It sits, Frozen but warm, Blinding yet soft, and Strong yet sorrowful.
A child of 6 years walks through his kingdom’s streets as it sits in the same place it always has.
He looks up to the sky, Towards the one form of solace in his life at this point. The one thing in his life that always changes, that always moves. His eyes settle on the Glimmering Rift in the sky and the whistle that echoes through its heart.
The Belmont's Garden 