On a world called Mag Mell there roams a man by the name of Norchug Mot Losiat. Most just call him Chuggie, and he is one of four primordial plagues who’ve walked the land since the world was young. Within him lurks a deep, elemental thirst that gnaws at his mind constantly. He can drink a river dry. He can drain water from the clouds. He can even tear the moisture from living creatures for miles around, because Chuggie is the embodiment of Drought.
Centuries ago, Chuggie discovered that the intoxication of alcohol could dull the thirst. In a moment of drunken frustration, he placed a curse of permanence upon himself, and has wandered in a stupor ever since. With a spinning head and a boozy eye, he rambles through the land looking for a place where he might kick off his boots for a moment’s comfort.
Atop his elongated head are five bone-white horns, cleverly disguised as a hat. Across his chest hangs a looped chain, linked into his ribcage. At the end of the chain hangs an anchor in the shape of a woman. Oh, he might pick up a bone dagger here or a goat face purse there, but the horns, chain and anchor are part of him, never to be divided.
Mag Mell is a wild world, and few can survive long outside the safety of a city. It is a world with a twisted past and a mad future.
A world of Mischief, Mayhem, Want and Woe.