Moonfolk and The Emperor of The Moon

The moonfolk are the de-facto ruling class, and have been for as long as most people can remember. There are few who can remember how it had happened, how the world had fallen beneath the shadow of the moon, how these strange pale folk had risen to power. What we know now is likely little more than propaganda, and should be taken with a grain of salt. We're pretty sure they come from the moon, they claim to have lived there a long time, but we have no idea how they got here, if they can return, or how many of them there really are. We know they are biologically immortal, able to live for thousands of years, and we know that almost all of them are highly capable spell casters. At first, it seems they had individually risen to power within their respective nations as powerful advisers and commanders, wielding their prodigal magics for the benefit of the local king or baron., but when the Moon Emperor revealed himself, they all swore fealty to him, and so each nation weakened by internal strife, fell rapidly under his domain. This last part, is whispered history, passed down in hushed bed time stories while nobody is listening.


Magic has been heavily licensed since the mage rebellion 60 years ago, when a desperate terrorist by the name of Esterdarrei the Black, unleashed a spell which destroyed an entire city, killing half a dozen moonfolk who had gathered for a conference, and hundreds of regular citizens. The entire landscape for a dozen miles in every direction was twisted and scarred by the magical backlash from the spell, and ever since, the law has made it virtually impossible for a commoner to become a licensed magic user.

Those who are reported as magic users tend to simply vanish, those in power having decided that it would be simpler if they just disappeared than to deal with the mess of convicting them. After all, everyone agrees mages are dangerous. Some, in mad, hushed whispers, would tell you of factories filled with mages, all casting spells, repeatedly, until they drop of exhaustion, sometimes even dying on their feet. Some might whisper about some great machine, some massive magical contraption that these imprisoned mages are powering.

But those are the whispered words of malcontents. All of this has been done in the name of safety, in the name of law and order. In the name of peace. Everyone knows mages are dangerous.