What is it?

To the average person, it wasn't anything at all...at first. The average person was already a superstitious, uneducated and often poor lower-class citizen from whatever part of Acadia they lived in. Daily life was farming, serf labor, and small comforts clung to dearly. Ambition included having one's own home, a farm, or a business. Most didn't dream that big. When the reality of ordinary life can mean a deadly illness, starvation, or war, the concerns of reality altering events are so far removed only the direct effects concern you.

This changed over several years, however. Villagers superstitions became more firsthand. Instead of hearing from a cousin's cousin that a dead family member's grave lie empty, and the local shepherd on the edge of town vanished shortly thereafter, these tales became more and more real. Farmers found cattle beheaded, disemboweled by what appeared to be gigantic claws, strung up in trees like confetti. Young boys spoke sheepishly of beautiful women in the forest the likes they'd never seen, naked, with amber skin braiding wildflowers in each others' long, leafy hair. At first mothers scolded their children for peeking at their neighbors. When the boys descriptions matched that that no pock stricken villager could possess and some went missing...the forests became off limits. Myth after myth carried more weight than they ever had creeping closer to the lives of the lowborn.

To scholars, it was the day the very laws of reality shifted. This wasn't a subtle change, either. In large cities where universities exist, hourglasses suddenly stopped flowing according to the hour of the day. Sundials were set up with hourglasses that could be witnessed to flow at different rates. Mixtures that once could be reliably combined with heat and pressure ceased to function as expected. The few practitioners of little magic that existed within large empires became strange either with rabid success or mystifying failure. Once solely the purview of educated men with years upon years of learning and practice, wizened sages serving kings failed to produce any effect noteworthy of a petty street magician. Many were accused of fraud, and summarily executed for failure or because it was believed they were faking to avoid duties. This subsided quickly, but many gallows hung gnarly old bodies the following weeks. As the phenomenon became more widely known, many rulers had their applicators of magic either dismissed or put to the task of figuring out what had happened.

After some years, the conclusion wasn't unanimous but circled around a figure known, at the time, in the city-state of Vazothema. Artemis Frye was his name, and his folly, true or not, became myth. The details change with the source and the telling, but generally share a common theme. Artemis Frye was a mage, a necromancer, a sorcerer, a soothsayer in service to the King of Vazothema. He wasn't a court fool, or a conjurer of cheap tricks but held real power. In an era when a person who could enchant a trinket that might help fight off a fever was held as a true man of magic, Artemis could call down lightning from the clouds and turn a man to ash. Frail, aging, and jealously guarded of his secrets, his adult years were spent in strict and secret service to the king as he conquered neighboring city-states. No stranger to conflict, Artemis spent many years early in his service foiling assassinations, sometimes more frequently for himself than the king he served. But Artemis was never satisfied, babbling on incessantly to anyone who would listen that this world was not the only one and he would prove it one day.

Well, he proved it. The rules changed because they were not Acadia's rules. Theories abound, but the theme is clear: Artemis stole something from the gods. Something valuable. Something powerful. Vazothema existed for roughly, by scholarly count, three days after The Fall. On the last day, the king penned a letter he sent by horse with orders to ride non-stop until it reached his half-sister, married to a vizier on the other side of the world. The letter is what most common theories about the fall are based on.

When did Acadia's name change?

Officially, nearly five hundred years before present-day. For many years, "Maer Duhn" was a name whispered by the clergy who had altogether stopped hearing any response from their gods. "Maer Duhn" meaning, "More Lands" but is commonly confused by less educated in the ancient tongue of the Taleshi as "Cursed Lands" leading many from outside the lands to sound quite foolish when using it as a disparaging comment. After the Vizier Assad bin Talesh became aware of the letter and presented the information to the crown Prince Moussadi bin Cal Cadeshi the local temples became immediately engrossed in deciphering every detail, eager to figure out why none of their prayers had seemed to illicit any reaction of any sort.

The prince and temple leaders composed their own attempts to contact King Veric van Vazoth, but the letters were returned. Within a few days of the letter arriving in Talesh, the entire city-state of Vazothema and large chunks of surrounding city-states were gone. The final event that cemented The Fall in history had happened.

What We Know Today

What exactly Artemis Frye did is still highly debated by scholars, priests, and mages of every stripe. What is known for certain is that his actions completely sundered the boundary between whatever world or reality Acadia was before and other worlds. How many other worlds and to what degree is still uncertain. Magic existed somewhat before, and some records of mythical beasts and legends existed, although the proof was debatable. That's no longer the case, and its common knowledge that these things are quite real now, even if they are grossly misunderstood by common folk.

The world itself is still largely being remapped, with subtle and sometimes drastic changes being noted. One notable but poorly understood instance of this change is The Wilds. Areas where men seldom tread, or are not well known seem to harbor an odd quality that confounds distance and direction at times. When mothers warn their children not to go too deeply into the woods or they risk losing their way forever, they're not just trying to keep their children safe from misadventure of a natural sort. Well understood boundaries of forests may indicate the breadth to be several leagues across, but hunters travelling the full length have noted following a compass due north and crossing twice that before reaching the end only to circle back around the edge in half the time. The interior doesn't always hold true either, with some hunters claiming to witness groves of ancient oaks so old that they could swear a saw has never touched them as long as man has lived.

A more studied and profound effect occurred with magic itself. Skilled mages of both genders didn't exist commonly before The Fall. Now, while still largely viewed with disdain, suspicion, and fear, the study of magic has developed more swiftly over the last several hundred years. While the average practitioner may be lucky to conjure the most basic spout of flame, the truly skilled exist. While a few of these noteworthy mages have been men, commonly called mages or specifically 'wizards' they are rare. Before The Fall, only men practiced magic, and it was largely paltry by Maer Duhn standards. Since The Fall, in certain circumstances women are born with more magic ability than the most studied average wizard. These Sorceresses are both feared and prized, hunted, and sometimes outright executed at the revelation of their ability. A commonly held misunderstanding by common folk is the reason for The Fall, and all the horrors it brought, was the great Artemis Frye being seduced by an evil Sorceress who tricked him into betraying the gods and destroying the world as they knew it. Despite being patently inaccurate, the various temples and universities do nothing to combat this myth. They do occasionally hunt down potential Sorceresses for their own ends and those in the employ of governments, rulers, and great institutions are no less feared, but at least are left alone and given a healthy amount of respect and distance. Anyone who uses magic is often watched closely by those who don't, especially if they appear to know more about magic than the typical village herbalist or temple priests. Practicing magic in Maer Duhn carries the weight of Artermis' actions for everyone, and for good reason. Anyone that could potentially do something similar is worth keeping an eye on. Even males don't escape this judgement, capable wizards are so much more rare they often go unnoticed unless they make themselves apparent.

Finally, while all the consequences may not be fully understood for many more lifetimes, there are a few other common consequences known to nearly every man, woman, and child under the skies of Maer Duhn:

• The Old Gods, the gods that existed prior to the fall...are gone. Or cut off. Whatever the case, they don't answer prayers directly in any way anymore. The most devout and high ranking temple members and priests used to be able to predictably pray, often as a congregation, for minor improvements in their lives. This included praying over the ill, crops, and the like with the occasional miracle being performed. A priest may have healed a blind man, or fed a village with the little grain left over from a rotting silo without it running empty. Since the fall, several newer religions have largely grown in popularity as their faithful have begun to produce both these wonders and more. This has lead to wars between the faithful of the Old Gods and religions that 'produce results.'
• Humans are not the only peoples in the world anymore. While legends of fey folk existed before, they're walking around now. Villages have had contact with tribes of elves in their local forests, dwarves from deep beneath the earth have begrudgingly traded with miners who dug into the wrong tunnel. One amusing story comes from a miner who 'tunneled in' on a dwarf king in his bath only for the two to stare at each other for minutes before screaming and running in opposite directions, the dwarf's bare ass disappearing around the threshold and the miner shitting himself before scrambling back up the tunnel to the foreman. Thankfully this resulted in the two becoming fast friends, and is sole reason the dwarf-human settlement of Dervan exists. Largely still self-segregated, you can find plenty of either race milling about above or below ground in various employ and trade. Many other examples exist, as many disastrous as friendly. The politics of these other species is not well understood by men of any station or country.
• The Reckoning. A short time after the letter from King Vazoth to Emelia of Talesh was delivered, the skies above the entire western hemisphere grew dark and thunderous, with great red sheets of lightning splitting the sky for thousands of miles. At the peak of the tremendous event, a cataclysmic earthquake split the ground for hundreds of miles around the city-state, swallowing the entire thing and huge chunks of land surrounding it into a great green and foggy chasm. Scholars documented glass breaking and buildings damaged as far away as the sea shores at the edges of the continent. Neighboring city-states have sealed the area, working together to build a gigantic wall around it, giving it miles of berth on every side. The other side of the wall is poorly understood, with the city-states commonly replacing execution with 'banishment beyond the wall' as a punishment. Occasionally some scholar or mage will try to drum up interest in an expedition, but have so far only managed to never be heard from again.
• Things that go Bump in the Night. Along with the superstitions and magic, came the monsters. The dead can rise as well as attract the likes of ghouls and ghasts of all sorts. Hideous beasts roam the wilderness, often outmatching any lone man or small band of inexperienced traveler. Warding off ghosts, felling monsters, and guarding merchants has become a lucrative, if not an exactly safe, profession. Scholars have notably chronicled an increase in these phenomena over the years, rather than a decline. This has some leaders concerned about the long-term consequences of The Fall, and what it may mean for the future of Maer Duhn.
• Life Goes On. Regardless of the very consequential changes to the world around them, the average person must still eat, wants a family, and has a field to till or some other labor to perform. Most peasants are so far removed from how the world was only few hundred years ago they have never known anything different. They nail horseshoes to the eve of a house to provide good luck, bury corpses deep, and attend whatever temple is in their village with the same fervor as they would have before The Fall. To them, the path is the same, only ever more dangerous and difficult whether they are aware of it or not.