WA Delegate (non-executive): The Krátorum of Aelythium (elected )
Founder: The Grand Empire of Rolais
Last WA Update:
Today's World Census Report
The Lowest Overall Tax Burden in Arkonos
World Census financial experts assessed nations across a range of direct and indirect measures in order to determine which placed the lowest tax burden on their citizens.
As a region, Arkonos is ranked 13,923rd in the world for Lowest Overall Tax Burden.
|1.||The Federation of Harjan Caria||Corporate Bordello||“Satyameva Jayate”|
|2.||The Republic of Intipalla||Capitalist Paradise||“The sea is the secret to controlling the land”|
|3.||The Principality of Savarona||Corporate Police State||“We all die. But first, we live.”|
|4.||The Confederacy of Braitia||Capitalizt||“United against the Hordes!”|
|5.||The Grand Duchy of Otreidbourg||Capitalist Paradise||“Greatness through Contribution”|
|6.||The Colony of Couble Macto||Corporate Police State||“Your heritage is our heritage”|
|7.||The Republic of Segh||Father Knows Best State||“Enlightenment comes through the Zî.”|
|8.||The Republic of Rovara||Corporate Bordello||“May the Legation Cities be forever free!”|
|9.||The Commonwealth of The Golden Fleet||Inoffensive Centrist Democracy||“Unity, Discipline, Work”|
|10.||The United Kingdom of Capslvarn||Democratic Socialists||“Our voices will echo forever”|
- : The Kingdom of Brinanberg departed this region for North Ustaynga.
- : The Kingdom of Northern Bropol Hok arrived from The North Pacific.
- : The Empire of Jobra departed this region for Cynosure.
- : The Republic of Aysenia arrived from The West Pacific.
- : The Federation of Nova Rossyia departed this region for Wintreath.
- : The Federation of Nova Rossyia arrived from Western Civilization.
- : Gaygang ceased to exist.
- : The Principality of Scymira arrived from The Pacific.
- : The Principality of Ravenlight departed this region for The East Pacific.
- : The Principality of Ravenlight arrived from The East Pacific.
Arkonos Regional Message Board
The north had been silent, mourning the death of their khan, tribesmen held the corpse of Atillak and laid him before the ancestral tree, its roots spread through the earth as its great branches blocked the blue light of Avar. Shamans stood around the body, a female lopexian stood at Atillaks head, her hands lit with red fire, turning his body to nothing but ashes. Two young Nevgarni looked on as the shaman lit the body alight, their father’s ashes floating into the wind. Ulda, the younger brother, a head smaller than his brother looked to Ernac. His brother’s jagged teeth were grinding against one another and his hands had turned into balled fists. Ernac, a dull shade of grey, with very feint black dots all across his body turned around and walked away from the ancestral tree.
The khanate had fallen from its divine grace, it was shattered by war from within and invasions from out. The damned Savoset were at fault, causing the holy land, Nevgarn to fall from its status of a notable power in the frozen north. Tribes invaded and rebelled in the south, the Sargolothi expedition formed their own order to the east, and two khanates formed. Ulda, the younger took the western half of Nevgarn. Whilst Ernac the elder took the west.
Silence echoed through the khan’s hall in Kelgar, it was empty, but the throne was occupied. With a shadow sitting upon it, Ernac’s arms rested on the chair’s armrests, his feet were planted flat and firmly on the wooden foundation of the hall, and his back was straight, pushed against the throne. The door flew open, the armoured Fikrul, Atillaks most trusted general marched into the hall, shutting the door behind him. As he approached, he nods towards the young khan.
“Ernac, son of Atillak.” He kneels with one knee, bowing his head towards the khan. “I have gathered the soldiers from all over your dominion and we are prepared to stamp out the remainder of the Savoset in eastern Nevgarn.”
“Send the riders of Urwindel down, let them tear the city to shreds.” Ernac ordered the much older general whom gave a simple nod towards the khan.
“The horde shall ride.” He responds, marching out of the hall, through the door.
“Tribes have rallied to the south and they are planning to regain autonomy.” Roua tells the younger Ulda, who sat in his throne under the shelter of his yurt. “And now to the north unrest spreads as the tribe of Ur now undo their shackles. We must act!”
Ulda sat there on his throne, his temper did not flair but he remained calm, he stood from his throne, one of his arms gripping the other by the wrist behind his back as he walked out of the yurt, he was met by a gust of cold air as he looked to the thousands of tents set up below him.
“We will act Roua. One at a time, taking them all on will get us nowhere.” He explained, Roua, the general loosened her frown, putting her hands on her hips as she tilted her head to the side.
“What? Why? Why not march upon our foes all together, strike them all down at once before they take our rightful lands!” Roua shouted to deaf ears, Ulda simply ignoring her criticism of her, the khan turned towards her with a cunning smirk.
“Because I’m not like my father. I’m not impatient, bloodthirsty, or dead yet.” Ulda crosses his arms, watching as his thousands of soldier’s train in the snowy wastes, getting into formations atop horseback and practicing their accuracy with their bows as they ride by wooden targets. Ulda, a bright and pure white lopexian, the same colour as his mother turned and walked back into his yurt. “Bring me my armour, we ride as soon as we can.”
Roua, narrowing her eyes at her new liege leaves the tent. Ulda sat down in his throne, envious of Ernac’s new khanate, the potential it had. War with his brother was a matter of time, but the question was when.
The Tribe of Ur
Ibruil laughed in the northern reaches of her younger sons domain, sitting upon a seat in a fortified city. White lopexians stood in columns, armoured to the teeth in steel, these were not Nevgarni, but the people of Ur. A tribe dominated and subjugated by the five tribes of Nevgarn. Conquered over a dozen years ago by the first khan Mithrax Ibruil hated the Nevgarni for taking away their lands and homes, she gripped the armrest of the seat tightly.
“Our city was sacked by a thousand Nevgarni warriors, desecrated, our history defiled. Our swords and shields shattered as they overwhelmed us with bow and sword.” The white lopexian, now widow yelled to the soldiers in the hall who screamed her name to the roof. “My sons rule the shattered remains of the khanate that dared take our homes, now let us have our revenge!” She yelled, the lopexians of Ur chanted, the bottoms of their spears smashed into the wooden panels of the hall. The armoured soldiers marched forth, flooding into the streets of the city and marching outside the protection of its walls, to the south.
The light footsteps of another lopexian came from behind, a tall black lopexian stood beside Ibruil, his eyes focused on the horizon. “No child will take their mother betraying them lightly. Not even a Nevgarni will believe their own birthgiver decided to put them down.” He gave a feint and sinister chuckle, crossing his arms.
“I haven’t asked for your council Munzuk, return to your post.” Ibruil herself crossed her arms, her eyes focused on the armies marching on the horizon. “I do not care for such abominations, they are the son of a cruel animal.” Her hands turned into balled fists, she bit her tongue. “I will wipe every memory of Nevgarn from this earth.”
“This isn’t going to end well for you.” Munzuk stated simply as Ibruil marched back into the grand hall. “The Nevgarni are conquerors and conquer they will!” He called towards Ibruil, now warlord of the north.
Maketigum founding post
Eva stood in front of the magistrates who gazed at her with a pure look of disgust in their faces. She couldn't believe she was being accused of such heinous crimes. The crowd outside screamed and begged for her life but there was nothing they could do, she was in the Wohlstaneis chopping block after all. Eva and her family's case was presented to the judge ,it seemed they had a chance. At the end the jury made their minds, Eva looked at them, they seemed familiar but she couldn't quite put a finger on it. The jury's verdict was... GUILTY, they said at the same time. They were taken to the main forum as the crowd followed the wagons they were on. One by one, the heads started rolling. The crowd stayed silent as they watched as the decepated heads fell into a basket and got carried away. Finally, it was her time. Not wanting to live anymore, she calmly lowered her head and waited for the sweet relief of death. But suddenly the floor started rumbling. The people were startled but still brushed it off as nothing. But the floor shaked once again, this time opening a gap in the floor in front of the Bundestag. Everyone panicked as hundreds of people started running to every direction, killing many in this chaotic scenario. Two hooded figures appeared and grabbed Eva, bringing her to the sewers. Building fell as if they were made out of glass, the waves launched ships, cargo and people over the rooftops of the warehouses. The Main tower of the Neuscheltz palace crumbled, smashing everything on it's way down. The magnificent dome of the Bundestag fell into the building that symbolised Maketigum's power, leaving nothing but a pile of rubble. The once brilliant city of Dresnum got punished by it's sins.
A ship appears in the horizon. There is no one at the beach but it can be faintly heard some saying "NEW LAND, CAPTAIN I SEE NEW LAND". In the afternoon the ship finally reaches the beach. A boat with 6 sailors arrives at the shore. The captain eagerly jumps from the boat mumbles something in Latin, gets on his knees and starts praying. The crew follows his lead. The captain gets up
C: "The land we were looking for!"
S1: "Sir this might not be new land, and even if it, what makes you so sure there aren't already people in here?"
S2: "Do you really want to come back to-
The sailors look at him, surprised.
C: "No one will dare say that name again. That wasn't home, it was just a distraction and now it is just a memorie and it will stay like that until the end of days. UNDERSTOOD?!"
The crew nods.
C: "Good. Now go call the others"
S3: "Yes sir"
Description: Maketigum is a coastal nation known for its wine, olive oil and diary products. It's culture is similar to the polish and Austrian during the middle ages. It is heavily influenced in architecture and sculpture by the Classical era.
Although once influenced by religion, the government remains atheist, but religious activities are permitted by the government.
History: During the second elven war (773-768 BTF) some sailors arrive at this land after fleding from their home, engulfed in chaos. After being granted permission by Kostua, the sailors and their families disassemble the ships and create a small settlement which grows, through generations, until it become the metropolis of Dresnum. Upon the fall of the Kostuan empire, Dresnum no longer had imperial protection (as well as restrictions) so it faced an economic crisis with barbaric tribes sacking the city. With all these tragedies falling over Maketigum, General and Senator Wilhelm Wohlstan (founder of the Wohlstan family) declared a dictatorship and dissolved the Senate to better handle the problems in 3 ATF. After the great earthquaque of 17 ATF, The Wohlstanies declared another dictatorship from 17-21 ATF, to rebuild Dresnum.
Politics: The nation is led from the Bundestag in Dresnum, by the High Senate. Maketigus adopted a greek democracy, as everyone on the crew of the first ships to arrive in this land had a vote on important decisions as long as they were men. Although it might seem like the High Senate rules the country, but actually it's members are just puppets controlled by the oligarchs, being the Wohlstan family the "royal family" with absolute power and incredible wealth.
Interesting facts: The nation brags about it's brilliant philosophers and scientists, as the capital is a knowledge hub. It's also known for its enormous harbour which receives ships from all over the continent. Nothing really happens in the countryside but there are plan to build a brand new city in the interior to prevent pirate raids, which are very common.
No Home Like Zelinsburg
Jorick’s heavy-footed march, which he had maintained for miles now on the western road, slowly gave way to a relaxed shuffle as on the horizon the walls of Zelinsburg grew into view. As he drew closer and closer still to the city the road picked up in traffic, dozens of merchants and yeomen farmers moving to and fro, and his adventurous solitude was finally over in a cacophony of hundreds of traveling men and women.
Coming to a halt Jorick decided to rest for a moment and catch his breath, moving to the side of the road in order to allow a large horse-driven cart to pass. As the wagon moved on he turned to steal a look at the occupants, watching from behind the small slits in his helmet as a few armored men sat inside. They had the look of mercenaries and Jorick sighed at the thought, warmed by the knowledge that the city had remained much the same since the last time he had visited it.
Oh, it’s been months now, hasn’t it? He thought. Quickly he turned back around and looked to the horizon; on the border of where the woods and fields met the sky, the towers of Zelinsburg were now plain to all. The sight was soothing and the weary knight was filled with resolve, grateful to have been back in the bastion of civilization after his long journeys throughout the northern countries. It was not that these places he visited were wicked or without common humanity. No, that was not quite it at all, but Jorick’s compulsion to travel was soon met with an even greater desire to rest. Yet it was very true that there was no place like home, and his spirits had begun to rise yet again from the very first step he took into the rolling fields of County Zelinsburg.
He wasted little time with resuming his gait, pressing on quicker than before as he was eager to reach the city gates. His rest could wait until then. He began to see the banners of the city streaming from the tops of the guardhouses; the crowned golden lion on a field of sable the symbol of the territory’s comtial ruler and his family. It was a quick reminder of who was firmly in control of the city, although Jorick was familiar enough with the city to know that that wasn’t entirely true. The guilds, mercenary companies, rogue bands of sellswords sans charters, patricians, freemen landowners, the steadholder and rival nobility all constantly intermingled in the complex web of society that comprised Zelinsburg. The constant ebb and tide of the merchants and nobles against the backdrop of an increasingly hostile world meant that the burgh, for all the love Jorick had for it, was rarely a truly welcoming place.
Yet for people who call the county home, either the burghers who live in the city their entire lives, or men like Jorick who were born and raised along the periphery of the county, Zelinsburg remained the center of their lives. All commerce went through the city, either physically or influenced by the presence of the artisan guilds. It was said that the only place the merchants lacked authority was in the fields themselves, where the ancient nobility held rights and privileges they were reluctant to surrender. Yet they busied themselves with horse-breeding and quarreling, and it was rare for one of the barons to really look beyond the borders of his liege’s realm and consider his world as a whole.
Jorick paused for only a moment as he reached the gatehouse. Hundreds of burghers and peasants passed him by, either heading deeper into the city or out into the countryside. He was almost entirely consumed into the crowd and would’ve been invisible if not for the armor he wore. He glanced up at the towers and nodded in approval, continuing on into the city.
Foundation of Khadak
Banks of the River Nun
Osrei stood looking at the sun as it hung and whispered a small prayer to Hiron, god of the sun. “Blessed be the light that touches these lands. Hallowed are our desires for a lasting peace. Divine is your wisdom.” A common prayer in the Tephir faith honoring the three principles of Hiron, the God of the Sun who was revered in the pantheon. A small bridge with a platform in the middle had been constructed over the last week on the Nun to provide a place for the Sepat of Khenefer and Osrei who was Sepat of Heirophal. The two city states had been locked in a bloody war over farmlands for the last two years. Neither side had the upper hand until the Battle of the Reeds occurred three months prior in which the Sepat of Khenefer was killed and his army thoroughly routed. His successor the new Sepat had immediately sued for peace rather than risk a costly siege of his city that would certainly have spelled economic doom and the loss of life of many innocents. Thankfully Osrei and his people in Heirophal didn’t desire a siege either. So here they were preparing to sign a pact of alliance that would seal the two cities together in perpetuity in a new Kingdom.
“Rei you really shouldn’t stand there brooding on such an exciting day.” The voice was so familiar and welcomed. Even when chiding him lightly Erei always managed to come across lovingly. Osrei’s wife was his partner in all things, be it on the battlefield or in the halls of power in Heirophal. She was intelligent, graceful and one of the most kind hearted people he knew. A great day it had been when she agreed to marry him.
“You’re right Erei, today is a day to be happy. Perhaps this peace will work and we can focus on our prosperity rather than the killing for a change.” Osrei said looking once again from his wife to the platform. A stone table had been brought in and on it were the scrolls which would be signed to signify the official end to the war and the establishment of the Kingdom of Khadak. Heirophal, the seat of Osrei’s power would serve as capital while the financial center would be at Khenefer due to its position at the mouth of the Nun.
A small procession dressed in the light blue robes of Khenefer approached the bridge from the opposite bank. Osrei took a deep breath, his golden robe of Heirophal glistening in the sun. Fires were being lit as the darkness would soon come and then the revelry. Osrei could make out Sepat Ezena led his delegation forward and Osrei did the same. They had met on the battlefield at the Battle of the Reeds and several occasions before that. Ezena was not a man to be underestimated as his rise to power in Khenefer had been swift and the more likely successors to the previous Sepat had all stepped aside. He would remain in Khenefer as the Sepat of the city while Osrei was being elevated to the newly created position of Heritep or King. Osrei’s brother Zeteres was to become the new Sepat of Heirophal.
“Blessed be the light,” Osrei said as the two delegations reached the table.
“Blessed be those it touches,” Sepat Ezena responded. The two were not close in age, Osrei was but thirty-one while Ezena had to be nearing sixty if not older.
“Shall we end this war and bring about a lasting peace?” Sepat Ezena said offering for Osrei to take his seat first. He nodded and did so. The proceedings were relatively quick as the treaty was read aloud for all those gathered to know that the war was to end and the city-states were to merge to create a Kingdom. Heirophal was the beneficiary of this outcome more so than Khenefer in terms of raw political power but in truth Khenefer would also benefit greatly in the economic sense as stability returned to the area.
After the signing the festivities began and the people celebrated the formal end to the conflict and the creation of the new Kingdom. Already a new palace was being built in Heirophal to accommodate the new position of Heritep along with a place for the new government to sit and advise. This was to be an experiment that would hopefully persuade other city-states and people nearby to join the fledgling Kingdom. Osrei was unsure if Sepat Ezena was genuine in his desire for peace or to be apart of the new Kingdom but for the betterment of both their cities and the surrounding lands this needed to work. Another internal war would only delay the greatness that could come from both cities by generations. Neither Heirophal or Khenefer could stand a long siege by one another and recover.
The Kingdom of Khadak had been created. The cities of Heirophal and Khenefer were to be united and their people standing together to face the darkness. With the guiding light of Hiron and the life waters of Tephis the Kingdom would prosper as long as it stood united together.
The Beginning of the Dawn
First Expansion After Foundation
Halls of the Tephir Temple, Heirophal
It had been some time since the foundation of the Kingdom of Khadak on the banks of the River Nun, an event that had ended a war and brought together the city states of Khenefer and Heirophal. An event that had been etched into stone as a monolith was erected on the banks. Days of jubilation had filled the streets of Khenefer while those in Heirophal had been busy at work clearing out the old artisans quarter following a fire nearly a month prior. The people of Khenefer tended to be wealthier due to their position at the mouth of the Nun River which afforded them the ability to tax any trade coming into the river from the coasts or out of the river.
One of the first orders of business had been to establish contact with the neighboring city states and informing them of the conclusion of the war along with the establishment of the Kingdom. Interest had been shown by the two neighboring states of Apion and Tjaru. The city state of Apion which was slightly north of Khenefer had considered aligning itself with them in the war against Heirophal but overtures from others convinced them that neutrality was the way forward. Now they had responded to the requests by Heritep Osrei to join the fledgling Kingdom of Khadak for the betterment of their people.
In the Tephir Temple
The structure was several stories tall and carved from stone. Truly one of the most magnificent sights in the city. Some would say the best sight was the Nun River and many would be inclined to agree, though some like Osrei, who’s faith guided his life would say the Temple took that top spot. Regardless they complimented one another beautifully as the Temple was situated on the banks of the Nun with the rear of the Temple opening right up to the river itself to allow a small pool to form with a statue of the Goddess Tephis in the middle of it, half submerged with water flowing out of a small pot she held in one hand and a clutch of reeds in the other.
It is with the guiding light that our people came to this land and it is with the guiding lights of Hiro that they shall prosper here. Given the life waters by Tephis to grow the wheat that feeds not just our people but now the people of Khenefer as well. It is through this light that the Heritep was wise enough to realize our Kingdom and our nation. In the light…
The sound of the Arch-Priest was drowned out by the introduction of the Sepat Aneb who had arrived in the city the day prior and a meeting here had been arranged as the Temples of the Tephir Pantheon were sacred and neutral in all matters.
“I trust your travels were fair Sepat,” Osrei said extending his arm for the other to grab. The greeting was normal for those relative rank or respect and while Osrei was now Heritep of Khadak it was a new position and one that would need time to be seen by the regular Sepats as not merely their equal.
“They were indeed Se… I mean Heritep.” Aneb said slightly slipping up in terms of greetings. For him it was a new name to call Osrei. They had known one another for the better part of two decades, though not always as friends.
“Blessed be the light that guides,” Osrei responded with a smile. His feathers fluttered gently in the breeze that was coming in from the Nun. “I appreciate that you accepted our offer to come to Heirophal. I know Sepat Ezena sends his regards as well. Have you and your people considered the offer to join Khadak in a union?” Osrei asked. With the establishment of the Kingdom the balance of power in the area had clearly shifted in Khadak’s favor and the offer to peacefully join would be something welcomed by some but too heavy a tonic to drink. Where Apion under Sepat Aneb stood was somewhat clear but there would likely be some negotiating to be done.
“Blessed be,” Aneb returned in kind, grasping Osrei’s arm. “My people have considered and we are unsure if joining is the best option. Subjugation isn’t what we desire.” Aneb said. His look was genuine in terms of concern.
“Subjugation is not what awaits your people. They would become my people and I would become their Heritep. You would remain Sepat and other than some minor taxes, levying of goods and a common defense in times of need little overall would change.” Osrei knew that Aneb had been told all this by the emissaries but perhaps he needed to hear it in person. By the gods he wouldn’t have believed he would be Heritep or that Khadak would exist if someone had told him just a year earlier. The struggle for survival can be all encompassing when one is in the middle of it.
A silence filled the space between them and the Arch-Priests’ voice once again became clear.
It is due to the Gods that we are here, their wisdom brought our people into being and it is through their love and affection that we remain. Through our darkest times at the hands of the Savoset we looked to our gods.
“In good faith I will take this to my people and within one week of returning to Apion I will have your answer Heritep. I thank you for the hospitality and the offer presented. I pray to Sereth for her wisdom and to Hiron to light the path.” With that Aneb stood, bowed and then left the Temple. His entourage all bowed as they departed as well. Osrei remained staring at the fountain statue of Tephis.
Darkness brought into one’s heart cannot be so easily expelled. Unity is through our belief that we work with the gods to make this world a better place. We are the custodians of the Flames of Hiron and as long as they burn like the sun and the waters flow we shall know peace.
As the people began to file out of the Temple, Osrei lit a candle by the statue of Hiron and then he too departed. The streets were bustling as traders came and went, artisans were about, people shopping and working. To the left the old artisan quarter was starting to resemble a place in recovery as scaffolding and stone were set for new buildings. The old had been burned away in a fire that claimed a chunk of the city and many of its inhabitants. That event is what caused Osrei as Sepat to gamble everything in the war against Khenefer at the Battle of the Reeds. The gods had chosen them that day and a blessed kingdom had emerged.
A week later and the word had come, not by a common emissary but a procession from the City of Apion led by none other than Sepat Aneb. Their people had agreed to join Khadak in good faith and as a member in the fledgling Kingdom. The common protection and economic gains had been what tipped them into favor with joining. At the same time word came from the City State of Tjaru that they might be more interested in joining the Kingdom of Khadak but that their Sepat Tatenen would like to meet in Khenefer which he viewed as a more neutral position than Heirophal. Osrei had reluctantly agreed.
The City of Intipalla part 1
Surezkia’s Tylos Puppet
The boat creaked and rocked side to side gently, as the twelve Da-Piscos rowed down the narrow river. I sat near the rear, as I was far too young to help with manning the boat’s many stations, but my Capac rested to my left. He stayed close to me, fearing that I could be snatched up by one of our fellow travelers, or worse taken by slavers, and sold into servitude to a wealthy House in the city. “We’re nearly there.” My Capac said softly, gesturing for me stand, and follow him to the front of the boat.
I stood, and began to follow, holding onto his hand as we passed the exhausted Da-Piscos, who’d began slowing down their rowing. “Why are they chained?” I asked, unaware of their position in life.
My Capac chuckled, turning his head to me, “They are of lower station my Capac, and intend to earn their freedom through work, than through the whip.” He said, turning back around, and looking down at one of them, “I believe these ones are from the north, some of the last we’d received from our-“ He stopped, before turning back, “You know the rest.” He said with a faint smile.
When we reached the front of the boat, my Capac handed the Captain a small purse, before patting him on a shoulder, and exchanging words. He then turned to me once more, “Down the ramp.” He said, directing me to my left, where a sailor was placing it down. I walked down it, followed by my Capac, and two fellow men, both armed with spears, and bronzed blades on their waists. I didn’t recognize the men, but they appeared to be friends, so I ignored them.
The dock before us was small, but packed with activity. Hundreds of foreign traders, and local traders bickered over prices, or over the strongest slaves on display for all to view. I was taken back, but had little time to observe for myself, as we reached a small dirt road, where a small cart sat with four strangers standing nearby. My Capac shook one of their hands, with a faint grin, before turning to me and crouching, “This is where my part of your journey ends,” He said, turning his head to the gentlemen around him. “These men will bring you to father, do as they say, don’t ask questions. Am I understood?” He said, placing his hand onto me.
“Of course.” I said quickly.
He smiled, before standing up, and picking me up from the waist, “Stay safe brother.” He finished, placing me into the cart, and closing the door. I heard some muffled words, before the cart began to shake forward...
Da Pisco – Avernian slaves from the isles of Pisco. Many are laborers, and chose to work their way to servitude. Usually if they’re able to survive their hard lives to up to 10 years they’re given the choice of being servants to their Savoset betters.
Capac – Members of the same family refer themselves as Capac, which translate to brother, or kinsmen.
A Peaceful Transition
There’s always a little picture that someone takes their eye off of to look at the big one.
The Westreach Mountains, south of the Blacklight Empire
The bell was tolling midnight as Violet ran. The shrill alert of a raven came from somewhere off to her left, and she skidded under a hedge, her breath sharp and tight in her chest. Not until she saw the bird fly away did she scramble back to her feet and resume her own flight. She was running away from everything she'd ever known.
When the raven-hooded soldiers had shown up in the mountain-top town of Kestrelstrommen with their trained crows, very few of the townspeople had so much as spoken to them. Kestrelstrommen was al-- had always been closed toward outsiders. Violet supposed that wasn't the case anymore. They were given a room at the inn, and fed, but that was about it. The next day, they'd started preaching in the middle of town, but it didn't seem like anyone took notice. The second day though...
Her father had been one of the first to start acting oddly. His continual smile faded from his lips, and he left for work without so much as a word to Violet. She'd expected at least a scolding for neglecting to keep her cloak off the floor, but there was nothing. Then her mother, who sang as she spent her day cleaning and tending to chores around the house, stopped. It was like someone had snapped their fingers. She at least, still spoke, but her words didn't make much sense. "Violet, I am so glad your father has accepted Kraai. Things will be so much better in Kestrelstrommen now."
It spread quickly after that. A week after the soldiers came, it was as if they'd grown up in town, the way everyone was talking to them. No one seemed to realize the difference in themselves. It scared Violet. She'd decided to leave, saying she was going down the mountain to Scymira to visit her aunt, but she was stopped at her door, and again at the edge of the village by her neighbors who warned her about 'the dangers of such a journey'. They bodily barred her way, and she was forced to return home. And then, tonight...
She'd heard her parents talking to someone downstairs after she went to bed. She snuck to the edge of the hall and peered down. One of the soldiers was there. "... is very strong-willed. I believe she should come with us and be taught the word of Kraai from the priests." Horrified, she'd recoiled and fled. Gathering a few things she just couldn't leave behind, she'd bundled them into a blanket and jumped from her window to the oak in the backyard. From there, she'd just run, fearful every time she saw a dark-colored bird of any kind.
Fortunately, though, it now looked like they'd given up the chase. They couldn't have had any way to tell where she'd gone after all, and the road was clear ahead. By sunrise, she could see the rooftops of Scymira ahead. As she rounded the last bend in the road, though, her step faltered. She veered unsteadily off the path and dropped to her knees in the grass.
All across Scymira, raven flags flew.
A Peaceful Transition: Part 2
It had taken Violet all night to edge around Scymira and continue on to Windrise. Scymira was a larger city, but Windrise was where the region's local militia was based, and Violet had decided during the night that the militia was her best bet.
Now, as the sun was nearing its zenith, Violet trudged in to the militia's main hall. Between her bedraggledness and general state of fatigue, it didn't take much for the sergeant at the front desk to make the judgment that whatever she needed was serious. "Wait here, miss. I'll get the Commander."
Soon, Violet was ushered in to a small office. Commander Charlon was a pristine image of a military hero, and Violet nearly forgot what she was here about as she tried not to stare. Thick, wavy hair fell in long locks past his shoulders, and there was a perpetual battle that rippled under his tunic as body and his uniform fought over the shape of his muscles. It wasn't his fault that he'd never gotten the chance to actually do any heroing.
The region around Scymira was such a backwater with no natural resources to speak of, that as long as the farmers and shepherds that lived there sent their taxes down the mountain, the videos militia was never needed. As the old empire crumbled, Scymira was just... forgotten. Eventually, Scymira forgot the outside world too. The militia patrolled the roads, fought highwaymen, kept the wolves at Bay, and that was it.
As Violet poured out her story of the last few days, Commander Charlon's eyes hardened. "You're not the first to bring us tales of these raven-worshippers, but we had no idea that things were this bad." He stood and raised his voice so that the soldiers outside his office could hear him clearly. "Officer of the Watch! Prepare two squads for movement. We are marching to Scymira!"
Two days later...
Commander Charlon rode into Scymira at the head of his soldiers. the streets were quiet, the shops were open, but the townsfolk were standoffish. He swung down off his horse at the front steps of the mayoral residence, a two-story grey brick structure that had seen better days. He knocked at the front door. The mayor, a short, thin man who mostly matched his house answered the door himself. "Charlon!" he said in his creaky voice."What a surprise! I wasn't expecting a visit. Come in, come in!" He ushered him into a room just off the main hall, which was filled with minor trophies of office that the mayor and his predecessors had been awarded over the years, mostly by themselves or their lackeys on the council.
Commander Charlon coughed. "Your Honor, I've been getting reports of strange newcomers in the area. They're worrying some of your constituents. Have they been giving you any trouble?"
The Mayor shook his head. "Indeed not, Commander! They've been no trouble at all. But if it will help, I can certainly arrange a sit down with me and you and them and we can discuss what they could do to alleviate the fears of our neighbors?"
Charlon nodded. He wanted to get a look at these men himself. "That is a fine idea. When can we do it?"
"Why, right now, Commander, they're in the other room. If you'll follow me?"
People of the Bay
Alorran Founding Post
In the cold, crisp night a wooden galley painted gold, creaking in the waves lazily drifted towards a shore painted a black that was near identical to the ocean below. The only separation from the two merging was the hazy blue reflection from the moon on the ocean. While the water seemed to almost be glowing with light, the land remained untouched by the moon’s light. Once closer, an orange light that illuminated the rocky shores became visible. Lazily dodging the few jutting rocks, the galley anchored in a bay. At the mouth of a river flowing into the bay, sat a large town quarried out of stone. From the galley a few rowboats were lowered to the calm water and the sailors paddled towards the town. Greeted by the friendly nightlife of the town, the sailors took board an inn after their long journey from Trecaster.
In the morning they set out to explore explore the local area to expand the reaches of the Carhasian crown but in the end abandoned their quest to settle for a peaceful life upon the calm and shimmering bay. Not too far away from the old town, the Carhasian women built an outpost on the bay. Not too long after it became a small farm. Soon a tavern was built as a marry place to gather. A year later more houses would be built, some larger to compensate for the Carhasian local leaders and some smaller for the few artisans that had moved in. After this more buildings would be built, and soon a temple built with the local style of architecture was built in the center of the village giving host as a sanctuary for the sisterhood. By then elves began moving to the area en masse mixing the Miradian, elvish, and Carhasian cultures into a new culture of humble, yet graceful architecture. After a decade the village became an organized city state named Llorraine after the local forest. The town had towers spiraling above the tree line with stone roads snaking between the cluttered buildings. A makeshift port had been built on the waterfront, directly parallel with the old temple. By then, the Carhasians grew accustomed to living among men, but the female superiority remained as a remnant in their new found society. It was then a few decades later after official roads had been built between Marida and Llorraine the city lines merged at the bay. While trees and greenery had separated the towns in many spots, the people thought of themselves as one. It wasn’t long before the began referring to themselves as Alorrans. A name to which they called themselves people of the bay.