On May 16, we're launching the Atlas of Legendary Places, a PDF collection of 13 original settings created by professional authors and artists using the alpha Deck of Worlds. These locations and lore will become available for the first time since 2022, when they were released to the backers of the Deck of Worlds Kickstarter as the Microsetting Lorebook.
This excerpt features The Basin That Weeps, with lore and story by Alina Pete and illustration by Tiago Souza. The lore has been edited for length. Where the Mist Eats the Land appears in its entirety. Pick up the Atlas of Legendary Places on May 16 to learn more about the history, ecology, and culture of The Basin That Walks.
Art by Thiago Sousa
The Lore
Fifty feet high, The Basin That Weeps is so named due to the condensation that streams down it like tears. Though the Basin is impressive and mysterious, most pilgrims journey here to see the Prophetic Snails.
These iron-shelled creatures are found everywhere in the caldera. At unpredictable intervals, the Snails will form into herds of up to 10,000 individuals and spill across the caldera in a great “dance.” The patterns they create are said to spell out prophecies that are always true. It is unfortunate that to interpret these patterns, one must rely on a hermit.
Drawn from many lands, the hermits all claim to be able to decipher the patterns of the snail’s dance. Travelers are cautioned to be wary, however, for it is rumored that only those with the right spark of madness can truly find meaning in the patterns.
Where the Mist Eats the Land
by Alina Pete
“Friend”, said a voice from the shadows.
I frowned. No one in this gods-forsaken pit was anyone I’d trust, and the smell coming from the shrine-turned-hovel made me disinclined to stop and chat. But… I needed information.
The pause was all the invitation the hermit needed. They scrabbled out of their den and stood unsteadily before me, wrapped head to toe in rags and wearing an improbably bright cape that used to be a prayer flag. It was impossible to tell what gender or even species this person was.
“Friend. For a drink of spirits, I will read the snails for you.”
I nearly left in disgust. The hermits who interpreted dance of the Prophetic Snails
were supposed to be holy, god-touched clerics. This person would make the filthiest beggar in my village look sensible!
It was the eyes, I suppose, that convinced me. One of the only things visible through their wrappings, the hermit’s eyes burned with a frightening intensity. They were mad, to be sure, but there was something powerful lurking under the waters of that madness like the drake-sturgeon of my home waters. And like those sacred fish, this thing offered me my desires, if I was worthy… or a curse if I was not.
I handed over the last of my whiskey and regretted it instantly as the aged and finely oaked liquor was guzzled down like dockside gut-rot.
“Awful!” The hermit said, turning on their heel and staggering away.
I was too incensed to move for a time, and the hermit was nearly over the next ridge when they turned back and looked my way. Once again, I felt the weight of their eyes like a blow.
“Well. Come on, come on.” They said. “The dance has already begun. Do you want me to read for you or not?”
I scrabbled after them, almost stepping on one of the razor-sharp snails in my haste to catch up. Before, it had been difficult to catch a glimpse of the famed creatures; their shells were the same color as the stone, and the few I’d seen had been hidden in the waters near the Basin.
Now, they were everywhere.
The light from the pools glinted off their shells, making a field of oligochaete stars against the caldera’s blackness. Like the stars, they seemed uncountable.
“Ask your Question!” The hermit’s voice startled me from my reverie.
I hesitated.
“Ask!” They shouted.
“I… where can I find a cure for my beloved’s illness?”
“Hah!” The hermit said. “Surprisingly practical. Usually it’s all lost heirs and failing empires. Right. Let’s see what they have to say. I’ll warn you! They may not answer your question, now or ever.”
“I ask for nothing more than a chance.”
They threw back their head in a cackle. “Those that ask for more are truly mad!”
Behind this ragged figure, the snails went through the slow, stately motions of the dance, forming spirals and whorls that encompassed the landscape. The wonder of the intricate patterns was enough to rouse even my skeptical heart, but I despaired of them making sense to any mortal.
I had to trust the hermit…
They stretched their arms to embrace the sky, and a surprisingly light melodic voice, completely unlike that I’d heard before, left their throat.
Two, and two, and two again
The bird and the serpent will rise
Find the place where the mist eats the land
At the third hour, under the blood moon
Find the flowing stair, or hope’s demise
Atlas of Legendary Places goes on sale May 14!
About the Artist
Tiago Souza (he/him) is a Brazilian concept artist based in São Paulo. He started his career as an illustrator in 2013 and now he’s focused on environment concept art and visual development for games.
About the Author
Alina Pete (they/them) is a Cree artist and writer from Little Pine First Nation in western Saskatchewan. They are best known for their Aurora award-winning comic, Weregeek, but they also write short stories, poems and RPG supplements, and their work has been featured in several comic anthologies.