The Hidden Land is the name used to speak of a city that once stood in the Middle Ages. It was formerly a land of great prosperity, bustling with travel and trade from all directions. But now, the king who once ruled has passed away, leaving behind only desolate architecture to be looked upon with pity. The people have turned to religion as a balm for their souls, placing their absolute judgment in the hands of the clergy. The clear skies of the past are now veiled behind a dense pall of mist. The meadows around the castle, once in full bloom, have transformed into a bed of white thorns—bitterly cold and unyielding. The squirrels that once swung freely from the branches must now cower deep within their burrows to escape the nightmare above.
The servants of the crown vanished with the turning of a turbulent era, leaving behind nothing but crumbling relics once revered by the populace. Whispers among the folk attribute this to the lingering curse of a war waged a century ago. Yet the priests hold fast to the belief that the people can still live happily within these high walls so long as they return their faith to God, praying for the Almighty's hand to sweep away the pestilence. Meanwhile, plague doctors exhaust every means with all manner of remedies, for many a villager falls stricken by the venomous blight of the Black Death. Nearly every soul suffers in starving desperation, and the badges of the Knights of the Round Table—once guardians of the citadel—no longer carry any weight.
The villagers long for a sacred beacon in which they can place their trust and faith. To their eyes, only a man of God, a figure wielded with divine authority, can unleash them from the depth of their sorrows.
"Our home shall rise to grandeur once more, just as in days of old." Such is the solemn vow of Father Ismayah Sereza.
The city of Caslette was once comprised of numerous administrative quarters—provisions, military, medical, commerce, and more—according to a mapped account left behind by a mysterious chronicler:
"Enclosed within majestic, sweeping circular walls stand countless dwellings of the people, bustling markets, taverns, and many a domain. Four gates divide the cardinal directions, partitioning the knightly corps into four orders—East, West, North, and South—each commanded by a guardian of its respective city. Marked at the very heart of the city stands a castle atop the hill, towering proudly as the sovereign's grand seat and residence. Raised high upon an earthen mound, it looms over the humble homes below. Beyond the slope of Caslette's walls lay open meadows and tall, splendid apple trees, serving as a playground for the young."
Yet those very meadows have melted away into makeshift shacks for the displaced. From a kingdom of former glory, it is now cloaked in the freezing chill of pestilence—a bitter leftover of war that leaves food scarce and hearths cold. It has led the people to suspect that God may have decreed the end of Caslette's mortality. From this moment forth, the once-joyous city draws inexorably closer to its final curtain... beyond all shadow of a doubt.
Welcome to the tale of the lost city known as "Caslette or Castletia" a city swallowed whole and erased from the pages of history during the 12th to 15th centuries.