Thought lost for hundreds of years, the Lost Isle of Concendia reappeared during the early decades of the Era of Beasts. A mist-like shroud off the Coast of Cantike started to recede and, as it did so, the edges of the lost Island began to appear, revealing a land verdant and covered in beautiful mountains and deep forests, but bearing the scars of an ancient war between the mortals and Sylvaneth who has once both called this paradise home, living in perfect harmony with each other.
As the shroud receded many forces sought to penetrate towards the heart of the island, to lay claim to this new territory, uncover its secrets and claim whatever lost treasures had been hidden for so long.
During their explorations they encountered the spiteful Sylvaneth who once kept the island safe as well as the other forces who knew full well what the uncovering of the ancient land meant.
Where once mortals and Sylvaneth had lived on the Isle in peace and harmony, that had been shattered by what the tree-folk saw as a brutal betrayal. The Sylvaneth and mortals shared much in their centuries of harmony – resources, learning and most all art. Yet the mortals discovered there was one thing which they could never fully understand and that was the spirit song of the Sylvaneth. Yet many tried to emulate it in sculpture, poetry and music. None came close to the magnificence of that sacred connection.
Frustration became obsession and in that obsession the words of the Dark Prince took hold. From those early whispers came a cult dedicated to Slaanesh, but there were no orgies of excess in this cult, only a desire to create something to truly match the spirit song. For decades the cult festered, secret, but ultimately harmless.
All that changed when one composer claimed to have created a masterpiece of music that truly would reflect the ancient bond that all Sylvaneth shared. At the Great Amphitheatre, a concert was to be held where the work would be unveiled for the first time. Even those involved in performing the piece had never played together.
The music that was played was a masterpiece yes, but it was not one of harmony, more it was a discordant sound that was both deafening and destructive. Any mortals who heard it were permanently damaged, if not killed outright, but to the Sylvaneth the sound was one of pure malice. Trees and tree-folk were shattered by the sound, blasted into kindling. Flowers withered and died.
Thinking this was an act of betrayal, the Sylvaneth lashed out, destroying the Amphitheatre and taking the souls of all those involved in the music, so the sounds would never be heard again. A war of extermination began, with the Sylvaneth intent on wiping every mortal from the island for their heinous act and there was nothing the innocent majority of the mortal population could do to convince the Sylvaneth otherwise.
Attempts to destroy the music met with failure for the mages of the tree-folk and all recognised that if the stolen souls of the composer and the musicians was ever taken by an enemy, it would cause great destruction. So they sacrificed the entire island, conjuring a spell which would contain the music and the captured souls, creating a mist that would consume the island so that it would never be discovered again, draining the magic from every arcane device and natural beauty to power it.
Yet no spell can last forever, and eventually – having consume the magic of the island – the spell started to recede. Followers of Slaanesh sought to claim the spell for themselves, while the Sylvaneth sought to restore the spell before the music could be released. In the end, however, it was the Flesh-Eater Courts of King Alfonso’s Cracklebone Court who claimed the trapped soul-spell, creating for themselves a palace to the south of the island and claiming the island with the noble intention of perserving its beauty, even as their foul influence began to see the trees around their newly erected palace start to wither. The Soul-spell, known as the Discordance that Splinters would be kept as the ultimate deterrent should any seek to challenge their mastery of the island.
To the north of the island lies the corrupted Vine Great, now held by daemons of Grandfather Nurgle, seeking to destroy this once-verdant land.
To the west lies the ancient mortal city of Apuovia, a largely-stone-wrought metropolis where most of the mortal lived their lives before the war. Ancient crumbling buildings have been ripped asunder by the Wyldwood trees summoned by the Sylvaneth as they attacked the city. A large cemetary exists in the east of the city, including a section given over to “the lost” – empty graves for those musicians who performed the song of discordance and whose bodies were never recovered.
At the island’s heart is “The Echo” of where the Discordance that Splinters was once held. Eerie sounds can still be heard in the vicinity, which play tricks on the senses and mind. Some speak of profound visions, others of painful hallucinations. Some claim that chaos-corrupted banshees of slaanesh wander the area, trying to give voice to something they have long-since forgotten and lashing out at any they cannot share their song with.
