"Dear Magus Amisa, we discovered this missive while searching through former Prime Minister Orestes' hidden files (which, by the way, were hidden in a ridiculously treacherous pocket plane--we haven't lost any of our staff yet, but we're thinking of requesting a shield defender or two for our next foray). It details the hierarchies among giants, which presumably would be useful in making allies of them during the end stages of the war. I hope you find it useful.
--Cestus Pladius, head researcher, Academy department of concealed texts
To Orestes. May this serve you well. Ophearus. 1/14/08
I have spent several months on the Grey Moor, attempting to duplicate the research I conducted for you last year in the Dwarven Mountains. It seems that giant notions of hierarchy are uniform across their separate tribes--and that this notion of hierarchy extends deep into their worldview as a race.
Lowest among them are what I've come to refer to as "giantoids", which is the best I can do in the way of a translation from their varied and difficult to learn language. This comprises the ogres, ettins, firbolgs, verbeeg, and the like--large creatures which are clearly close relatives of the frost and storm giants of the world, but not possessing the power or elemental distinctions which so easily divide their superiors. One thing that is interesting to note is that the deformities of these creatures are looked down upon by the other races, while it is the very deformity of the fomorii which is venerated. Never expect a culture to make sense, my dear friend.
On the next level are hill giants, sand giants, and forest giants, and any other giants which are in not tied to the extremes of nature. While these are significantly larger and more powerful than their giantoid cousins, they lack the intellect of the higher orders. There is a distinction made between these two groups however when it comes to servitude, which I'll get to in a moment.
One order up from these are the giants which reside terrestrially, but in the extreme places of the world most associated with the elemental planes--in other words, frost giants, stone giants, and fire giants, though there are rumors of other more secretive races that may help to make up this rank. While stone giants seem to be characteristically resigned to their place within this hierarchy, both fire and frost giants have, as cultures, made it their business to strive toward the limits of their standing, which still resides somewhere below that of their favored masters. As a result, wars of dominance between these two tribes have often been brutal, especially since they are so vulnerable to one anothers' attacks. Today they largely live far apart, their border regions having been depopulated and reclaimed by other races.
Above these is the last sort of giants that can truly be considered giants--the storm and cloud giants. While immensely powerful, they also take pride in their ability to divorce themselves from the earth. They are the undisputed masters of the other giant races, both by power and by the honors bestowed upon them by the fomorii--or so tradition would have it. Unlike the other races, they take no slaves, but will happily obliterate any other giant who does not perform obeisance to them. Oddly, they are not malicious, but their tradition of god-given dominance gives them a dim view of the sovereignty of the lesser races.
And of course, at the top are the fomorii, who we know so very little about. The fomorii were once fairly numerous, if highly territorial and antisocial creatures, and were the first children of the Titans to walk the earth. They are marked by their dramatic deformities, and were masters of the seas and oceans. After the disastrous war against the gods which so happily littered our world with the tombs of the Titans, the fomorii were quite nearly eradicated. After the massacres which they had perpetrated, the elves allowed them to live but banished them to the deeps. Or so we've been told. We have, of course, failed to make contact with a fomorian as of yet, but we do have a lead or two.
Servitude is an interesting and surprisingly complex notion among giants, and seems to have been instituted at the very least several thousand years ago as a way to keep the hierarchies clear and provide labor and sacrifices for the higher orders. While any order may capture and enslave any sort of giant that is of a lower order, it is considered anathema to enslave a giant that is considered "on rank" with your tribe. This partially explains why the fire and frost giant wars were--at least according to very old legends--so deadly, as neither tribe was allowed morally to take prisoners. It is of course considered prestigious to enslave those giants only slightly less fortunate than your tribe, which is why one rarely finds an ogre toiling away in a cloud giant castle. And on that subject, it is oddly considered prestigious among cloud and storm giants to own fewer slaves. I'm not certain why this is, though in the particular case of the storm giant it may have much to do with their obsession with keeping their castles pristine. A gang of slovenly hill giants would ruin the beauty of their many-spired manses.
Well friend, that's all I have for now, but I'll keep you updated on our quest to find a fomorian to pull one over on. Maybe we'll find one with two asses to kiss so we can flatter him into a job. Good luck in all your endeavors, and may this land be named Neren before the new year.
A series of articles on the Eracian Empire and its surrounding provinces
Saturday, January 31, 2015
Sunday, August 11, 2013
A Survey of Talaran History and Culture
Due to recent events which began in Nalcira, this article is in need of an update. This edit will be forthcoming as soon as our agents to the region return and are extensively debriefed. --Jacob VanNuys, Imperial Corp, Rorstad, Bevin
The former Imperial province of Talar is a land set apart from the rest of the continent. Bordered by the dune wastes of Baegnolia to the north, the arid hills of Gora to the east, and rugged hills separating it from the breadbasket eastern lands of Emilia, it has developed a culture determined as much by its isolation as by its history as an abandoned colony of faraway Arad.
Topography
The southern coast of Talar is dominated by the Aral Plateau, a highland which keeps all but the strongest rains away from the province’s central regions. The plateau itself is semi-arid, and is dominated by pine and cypress forests. Below the plateau, on the coast itself, are a number of small fishing villages. Ocean trade does not extend this far east, for the most part, so there is only one dominant port, Sulafein, located southeast of Ankazir.
The central basin, the largest region of the province, is an arid, windy area. While agriculture has been successful here thanks to the rivers which flow from the Border Mountains and the Aral into the Dalma Sea, the main reason there are so many towns and cities in this inhospitable place is because the Gora-Emilia road passes through this region. Towns and fortresses sprang up here to take advantage of and help protect the route, and the road itself bends north to pass through the capital of Nalcira.
The north central and northeastern areas of Talar are its breadbasket, a lonely, semi-arid swath of land overseen by the priests of Baal in their quest to keep the land green. From the north and east, however, come the twin threats of desertification and goblinoid invasion, the latter evidenced by the line of broken fortresses not far from the Baegnolia border. One of these, Castle Kyr, is famous for it ghostly denizens, mostly the undead remnants of an Imperial regiment.
The northwest portion of the province is more a part of Baegnolia now than Talar; a rugged desert landscape, covered by shifting dunes in some places, now dominates the area. The Baegnolian desert began moving southward several hundred years ago, and monster activity in the region--as well as threats from Fiannan deserters and mercenaries during the Fiannan invasion--have regularly kept the priests of Baal and their gnomish allies from advancing agriculture in the region for many years.
History and Culture
In Imperial Year 307, the nation of Arad, after watching the Eracian Empire expand so rapidly, was keen on expanding itself. Its wars with its neighbors had fallen to a few skirmishes in the past years, and a trading partnership with the gnomes led them to land their ships in the deserted region west of Gora. Things went poorly from the start, as giants, goblinoids, and orcs swept out of the eastern mountains and steppes to prey on the poorly protected colonists. The military and civilian leadership soon agreed that to stay along the coast would be suicide, and abandoned their first colony, called Bakir. The colonists and their army pressed north, over the Aral Plateau, constantly trailed by monsters and bandits. They soon found a defensible but nondescript valley with an excellent sandstone quarry, and set to work constructing what is now the Inner City of Nalcira. Things began to take a turn for the better, and the new city was able to establish a trade route with the cities of Emilia as well as the gnomes to the east. Trade with Arad itself grew troublingly sparse as political troubles grew for the nation, and in 348 the colonists received a devastating message, not from their homeland, but from the Emilian navy, that Arad had entered into a devastating war with both Issha and Duvrain. Arad had abandoned their colony, and the settlers themselves were forced to continue on alone, until, in 377, an Emilian advisor suggested they contact the Empire asking for their protection and economic interest. After several years, a young new emperor travelled from Eracia to Nalcira, and made a pact with the governor there that brought Talar into the Empire--on the condition that they become very public allies of Emilia, thus helping to seal that city’s efforts to become the de facto capital of what would soon become the Emilia Province.
Most of Talar’s history since that time has followed a certain cycle--years of prosperity, followed by years of vicious monster attacks from the wastelands that surround it, followed by years of famine and rebuilding. The most famous period of war began in the year 776, when a black wave of goblinoid tribes spilled over the edges of Baegnolia, likely driven south by other monstrous tribes fleeing the expansions beginning in Nordest at the time. The Imperial army made haste in defending the border, but the only defenses available were a network of crumbling fortresses along the province’s northern border. The army was largely overrun, and one fortress in particular suffered a dark fate--Castle Kyr, where the dark divine spells of the goblins trapped most of the souls lost in battle in the fortress and the tunnels beneath it. Kyr is a haunted place to this day, and only the most foolish commander would force his men to venture there.
The arcane traditions of Arad have never truly died in Talar, and have often proven a thorn in the side for the province’s governing bodies. While elementalism is tolerated by most in its base form, and even encouraged by some researchers of the Academy, the summoning of Djinn and other spirits is explicitly illegal--and was, up until recently, highly difficult. Despite the difficulty, however, many mages throughout Talar’s history have chosen to consult the djinn and their darker cousins to gain power and knowledge.
The Talarans have always held a close kinship with the gnomes, not only because they are their closest neighbors, or because their civilization sits atop many an abandoned gnomish ruin, but also because in the difficult years between Araden and Eracian rule they took the Talarans under their wing, seemingly sympathetic to their plight. Ever since, the culture of Talar has differed greatly from other human cultures in its devotion to certain gnomish customs and foods--as well as a jealous possession of some of the more clever gnomish devices.
Current Events
As of 1109, Talar is facing a new set of challenges. The Empire’s deaf ear toward Gora cost them their farthest eastern province during the Caer deliberations, but this newfound independence has been equally problematic for the new nation. The Protectors had a strong presence in Talar, and were instrumental in rooting out illegal arcane practices within the province. With them gone, the leaders of the arcane community are in some cases less powerful than their predecessors and their rogue adversaries, and in some cases too sympathetic to the old traditions to punish them. As a result, djinn activity in Talar has tripled over the last half year, and many communities have begun to fear and reject the mages they rely on for protection. The departure of a large army--seven full regiments, even during the height of the Elven War--has left them ill-defended and relying on Fiannan mercenaries to defend their borders. The three Nalciran regiments have been released from Imperial service, but are not as well-equipped as they once were, and their Eracian colonels and generals have returned to the west. Meanwhile, the orcish tribes press harder on Gora, and the Talarans fear that it may not be long before they are forced to defend their eastern border, if not alone, then with a paltry collection of allies.
Saturday, August 10, 2013
The Nordest Colony Part I - The Expedition
A plaque in the city of Emilia, in the Plaza Campana, states that four hundred and thirty years ago, on the first day of the year, Antorio Casse left Emilia, with the blessings of the Consigliere, on the expedition that would lead him through Baegnolia and on to Nordest. This is only partially true--the Consigliere, while they agreed to send him, were incredibly skeptical about his chances of success. Talar had been an established colony of the Eracian Empire for several centuries, and no one there had made it past the deserts to their north. Monsters and storms often came out of that region, but little else. Casse, a scholar and adventurer, claimed that he had worked out two important pieces of information: that the monster tribes generally settled down for breeding and regrouping during the winter, and that the storms there followed a particular pattern that he would be able to exploit. The expedition itself had been both planned and approved only because the war with the Fiannans continued to rage, blocking off a northeastern route to the lands of Nordest, and while Casse himself was only interested in natural resources and possible settlement, the Emilian military saw some strategic value in establishing holdings east of the Empire's foe.
With or without the council's consent, Casse had the money that he needed, and with a full retinue of mules, guides, and wagons, he set out on the Emilia-Gora road while the bells of Emilia rang constantly in celebration of a new year. The first few weeks of the journey were smooth, as the group traveled the highway the Empire had laid down in very recent years. They stopped briefly in Nalcira, but continued on to Ankazir to join the road that wound up past the Dalma Sea and to Baalistan. The Plena Mazda, harsh and windswept in winter, took the first casualties from Casse's party. By the time he reached Anahran, two of his drivers and one of his farriers had abandoned the cause, intimidated by the stories they had heard from locals about the terrible desert to the north, and two of his mules had to be put down after a manticore attack wounded them severely. Further problems with the wild monsters of the plains--largely settled, but still with sparse areas along the major lanes of monster invasion--exhausted the group and killed three of the guards. The priest of Creus Casse had brought with him was sorely taxed by all the necessary healing, and he was forced to hire, at great cost, an itinerant priestess of Inanna. Azira was her name, and she proved to be a great help to Casse's expedition, though she parted ways with the explorer under odd circumstances shortly after the expedition's end.
It was nearly a month into winter when Casse passed the provisional Ft. Ibn and headed into unknown territory with roughly half the number of men and women he had employed when he set out. Passing over the windswept region of enormous dunes, Casse swiftly named the region Baegnolia, an Emilian word meaning "land of sand dunes". Though this would prove to be a misnomer before he left the region, he kept it on all of his maps, saying that his "original impression of the land was more important than accuracy--that the harshly dry and windy land I first rode into is how I shall always remember that place." Dust storms struck almost immediately, but Casse was prepared, using the charts he'd assembled based on records from Ft. Ibn and Castle Kyr to skirt around the edge of the storm. His good luck would not continue, however, and in another week's time the group had only traveled fifty miles. While Casse had been correct about the fact that the monster tribes went to ground during this time, this was less true for the solitary and terrible creatures that lurked in the interior of the desert. An encounter with a basilisk killed all but two of the expedition's remaining guards and the priest of Creus, and another attack from a family of cockatrices took no lives but destroyed much of the party's provisions. They were now on very scant rations, and were forced to learn a few things about hunting in the desert.
A few more weeks passed, and the group came to the badlands of central Baegnolia, where they became lost in the maze of box canyons and deep valleys that cover that most maligned region of that province. Their going was slow, and Casse began to worry that the expedition would not make it through the desert to the promised land he had already dubbed Nordest which he expected to find to the north. The party began to despair, and it was only the guidance of Azira that held them together. Meanwhile, as their hunting skills improved, they soon found themselves pursued by a group of hobgoblin scouts. Soon, an entire tribe of hobgoblins was on their trail, and only Casse's projections saved them. He veered the party into the path of a sandstorm, fatiguing the group and killing all but their last mule, but throwing the army of monsters off of their trail.
Little is known about the following month, as Casse would not speak of it during his life. Some of his men became convinced he was leading them on to their death (with good reason), and a mutiny took place. When all was said and done, only Casse himself, Azira, and two mule drivers were left alive. The mule itself they were forced to eat, their best hunters having died or deserted. During this period of time, however, they moved at incredible speed away from their deserters and dead, desperate to leave Baegnolia behind. Though how far they traveled in actuality is debatable, the small group covered several hundred miles in the matter of one month. They soon passed over into the tortured lands of the north, the last leg of their journey through the desert, and though the survivors of the expedition have said that this was often the most grueling part of their voyage, there were few monsters and no storms so late in the winter. Casse forced the group to press on as Azira taxed her spells to keep the group fed and strong rather than healthy. Soon the group began to notice some odd things about the region--here and there, where sand had been parted by wind, they found the remains of old roads, signposts in a language they could not read, and broken weapons as well as signifiers of everyday life. These signs were sparse, but they gave Casse hope, and he began to believe that the culture he believed lay to the north had retreated from a growing desert, leaving behind artifacts and relics. Years later he would learn that many of the weapons he saw were of gnomish, elven, and what seemed to be ancient Eracian make. It was not until the formation of the Imperial Archaeological Society that many people gave thought to this odd coincidence.
Finally, two and a half months after leaving Emilia, Casse ascended from the desert, crested a rise, and looked down onto the arid grasslands of southern Nordest. It is said that he sighed with relief when they left the desert behind, but his hopes of finding a civilization would not be realized for several more days of travel.
Friday, January 4, 2013
Daoine Island, Seat of the Fianna
Daoine Island, a tiny and somewhat isolated island in the middle of the Danna Sea, is one of the oldest continuously inhabited places in the world. During the Sojourn, the journey which the ancient elves took across the world's face to learn its every secret, Daoine was a resting point and the site of a temple to Gaia. Abandoned when the fair folk moved to the west to make room for the younger races, it remained a landmark and waypoint for elven druids and mages in their travels. During the Fomorii-Fiannan war, which took place during the Titans' Scouring, the Fiannan people of the region were reduced to a tiny fraction of their population. However, a fortuitous meeting between Illiarus, an elven druid and scout who root-traveled to the highly attuned pines of Daoine and Orima, a scholar of the Fianna led to a grand alliance between elves and men in the region.
After the war ended in defeat for the Sons of Aether, those not slain by other gods were interred beneath the earth in great spires of stone which the elves crafted to hold them in eternal slumber. Places highly attuned to the worship of Gaia were selected by signs and visions across the world, and the temple at Daoine was one such site. Orima, who had been renamed Oghma, which means holder of knowledge, received a vision foretelling that in the far future those of ill intent would try to tap the power of the spires for their own ill gain. As such, when he was named Archdruid he placed his seat of power on the island. It has been the first haven for the druids and a place of immense power since that time.
During the reign of the Eracian Empire, Daoine was never discovered or invaded despite Emperor Martius III's excessive reward for its capture during the Annexation of Fianna, and many sunken ships across the Danna hold scrips of intent to invade the sacred place. Until the spring of 1109, no person not of elven, fae, or Fiannan blood had set foot upon the island's ground; however when a group of adventurers rescued the long-lost Erinn, the elven girl fated to be the next archdruidess, and brought her to the island Erinn dispelled the wards, and they remain dispelled until the time that it becomes necessary to raise them again in defense of Daoine.
Today, after many years of obscurity and separation from both men and elves, Daoine has again taken its place as an important center of magical and political power. From this island, the young Erinn, trained by the spirit of Oghma himself, leads an alliance between men, elves, the fae races, and even dwarves which despite its loose affiliation and recent creation now rivals the effective power of the Eracian Empire. In Summer of 1109, she announced the formation of the Fenians, an organization of mages, warriors and druids who would work to protect the Fiannan people and act as foreign agents, placing most of her inner circle within its ranks. In Autumn, she began casting her Fenians out like leaves on the wind, looking for potential allies, enemies, and interests across the continent.
Daoine itself is ruled by the Archdruidess, and is administrated by a cadre of Elders, ancient elves who have maintained a vigil over the site since before the Nerenean War. Daoine itself is superior to the four great groves of the mainland, though each of the Archdruids and Bards for those groves has a vote in many matters, especially political and religious ones.
After the war ended in defeat for the Sons of Aether, those not slain by other gods were interred beneath the earth in great spires of stone which the elves crafted to hold them in eternal slumber. Places highly attuned to the worship of Gaia were selected by signs and visions across the world, and the temple at Daoine was one such site. Orima, who had been renamed Oghma, which means holder of knowledge, received a vision foretelling that in the far future those of ill intent would try to tap the power of the spires for their own ill gain. As such, when he was named Archdruid he placed his seat of power on the island. It has been the first haven for the druids and a place of immense power since that time.
During the reign of the Eracian Empire, Daoine was never discovered or invaded despite Emperor Martius III's excessive reward for its capture during the Annexation of Fianna, and many sunken ships across the Danna hold scrips of intent to invade the sacred place. Until the spring of 1109, no person not of elven, fae, or Fiannan blood had set foot upon the island's ground; however when a group of adventurers rescued the long-lost Erinn, the elven girl fated to be the next archdruidess, and brought her to the island Erinn dispelled the wards, and they remain dispelled until the time that it becomes necessary to raise them again in defense of Daoine.
Today, after many years of obscurity and separation from both men and elves, Daoine has again taken its place as an important center of magical and political power. From this island, the young Erinn, trained by the spirit of Oghma himself, leads an alliance between men, elves, the fae races, and even dwarves which despite its loose affiliation and recent creation now rivals the effective power of the Eracian Empire. In Summer of 1109, she announced the formation of the Fenians, an organization of mages, warriors and druids who would work to protect the Fiannan people and act as foreign agents, placing most of her inner circle within its ranks. In Autumn, she began casting her Fenians out like leaves on the wind, looking for potential allies, enemies, and interests across the continent.
Daoine itself is ruled by the Archdruidess, and is administrated by a cadre of Elders, ancient elves who have maintained a vigil over the site since before the Nerenean War. Daoine itself is superior to the four great groves of the mainland, though each of the Archdruids and Bards for those groves has a vote in many matters, especially political and religious ones.
Friday, December 21, 2012
A Bedtime Story for Erinn
Erinn shivered in the narrow, barely lit alleyway, thought it was not cold in Cordillera in the spring. She had had another close brush with a group of armed vigilantes, hunting any and every "elven spy" they could find. Now she was hiding out, and as always the only comfort she could turn to was the warm voice of Oghma, first Archdruid of Fianna and a friend to many elves in his time.
"Oghma," she whispered quietly, "you told me about how the war with the Fomori started yesterday. It was very sad. Did things ever get better?" Erinn had no need to talk aloud to the presence within her head, but it had a way of making her feel less alone, drowned out some of the quieter, more disturbing noises of the city's massive slum.
Oghma smiled. Erinn did not know exactly how she knew that he was smiling, but she did, just as she could picture his weathered and ancient face, just as it had been ten millennia ago, when he had walked the earth as a man. "Relax, child," he said, "and I will tell you the story of just how things improved, and perhaps you will understand why I am here, inside your head, rather than passed on to a new life." Erinn, nestled between two crates, a burlap sack covering her from feet to nose, tried to tell herself that she was safe, that no one would find her here. Instead she felt a spell spring to her hands, found herself whispering its words. "There," Oghma said, "a ward for you. I cannot do that often, but rest easy this night." Erinn settled down, warm in her makeshift nest, closed her eyes, and listened to the Keeper of Wisdom's words roll across her mind.
Fianna was gone, we were no more, we had come to an end. Many moaned that we had followed the whispered voice of Danna, had followed the high paths from the west and south into this land, wished that they had never seen the sea they were singing praises to only months before. The great ones had been killed in the many battles I told you of--Arawn, Carach, Three Fingers--and though they had traded their lives dearly for some of the greatest and most fearsome of the Fomorii, well, their competent fighters and sorcerers were the match of ten of our best mortal warriors. I had come to Daoine, sure that I was needed on the front lines and just as sure that someday, one of the tribesmen of the east, or the halflings and gnomes of the south, or even the benighted barbarians from out of the west, would come upon the mountain of scrolls I had assembled and learn who we were. Perhaps give a prayer to Danna when we had become silent. At the time it was a wonder even to us, who you think of as the Ancients. There we found ruins, and we would come to know that they were built before the Titans' children set foot in the world, by your people, Erinn.
I recall vividly to this day what an oddly dark night it was when I rowed ashore in my longboat, but it seemed fitting at the time. I would learn later that it was a lunar eclipse, a night which is auspicious for secrets and magecraft, and little else. It was both magic and secrets that I found then, though, so I suppose it was appropriate. I found an ancient cairn, its designs and carvings worn but more delicate than anything a Fiannan hand had ever crafted. I began to dig beneath it, burying the scrolls and tomes I had brought with me, trying desperately to keep the tears in my eyes rather than on the already salt-weathered parchment. It was then I heard a voice, very close.
"Tell me, human, if you have that many secrets to hide, why did you write them down in the first place?"
I started, turning about, and I saw an impossibly slender--and quite frankly, beautiful--figure sitting on a piece of ancient stonework. Moonlight seemed to shine on him, though as I mentioned there was none. His silver hair was braided, and his dark eyes looked amused. His long and pointed ears betrayed him to be what we called the Ellyl--an elf. Attempting not to seem completely taken aback, I set the tome down, smiled wryly, and explained to him exactly what I was doing.
His name, I learned, was Illiarus, and he had come to Fianna on an errand from his goddess, whom he called Gaia. He told me that she was the mother of the elven races, and the grandmother of both my own and the Titans' progeny who had ravaged our lands. I explained to him, in return, that the Fiannans, unlike our brethren whom we had left in the south and west so many years ago, venerated a lady, a fair mother named Danna. He smiled a knowing smile and led me about a mile away, off to the north. Funny, Daoine is a very different place these days, and there is something rather in the way of the spot that Illiarus took me. What he showed me was a column, covered in names and images, all of which belonged to the mother of our world. I began to sense the point of the discussion long before he reached the name, the image, the sacred symbols which had been given our seers in dreams, of Danna herself. Our mother, it seemed, was theirs.
"Orima," he said, for that was my name then, "I am what you would call, in your language, a druid--a wise one of the forest. Our mother, Gaia, tasked us long ago with protecting this world as best we could. She gave us the task of striving to create a balance, a pleasant harmony, and that is all but gone these late years. The pride of Patrus and the ruthlessness of Sol have brought this barbaric crusade which seems to have no purpose but to halt change with a blood payment." It is worth noting that I had no idea of what Illiarus was talking about. I had not met an elf, and goodness knows I had not met an Eracian. The Titans themselves had little need to walk in our lands, as their most brutal and capable children the Fomorii were in little need of assistance in their massacre. "As I was saying," Illiarus had continued, "I didn't come here to look over this old ruin. I came here because it was easy, because the trees of the west still mingle their roots with those of this old temple. I intended to craft a boat, or shift into a seal, and find my way to mankind's leaders. But now it seems I have a guide. Perhaps you can give me some hint as to how your leaders might feel?"
I had no idea what my leaders thought. I had no idea what leaders were still alive, or if there was an army. If there were even children. For a week it had been only myself, the sea, and the last works of the people of Fianna. I must have had an odd, and hungry look in my eyes when I turned to face the elf, given the expression on his face. I couldn't read it at the time, mind you, but I've had some experience deciphering the expressions of the Fair since then. "What do you wish to ask them?" I said.
Illiarus smiled. "We'd like to know if they would be receptive to help. We have an army waiting on the moor, but we've been very careful not to impose on other civi--"
The elf stopped short then. I had fallen, in my filthy clothing, onto the ground before him, had grasped the folds of his robe with my mud-encrusted hands, and I began to weep. I will never forget how grateful I was to him for looking down on me, not with pity, but with sympathy, and even a kind of kinship. I still don't understand it. He lifted me up, and said, "Then we will fight on your behalf against the children of the Titans. Come, have you ever travelled by root and stone before, brother? I suppose not. But there is always a first time."
And that is how things began to get better, Erinn. I will tell you more tomorrow. Go to sleep now, child, while the wards still hold.
"Oghma," she whispered quietly, "you told me about how the war with the Fomori started yesterday. It was very sad. Did things ever get better?" Erinn had no need to talk aloud to the presence within her head, but it had a way of making her feel less alone, drowned out some of the quieter, more disturbing noises of the city's massive slum.
Oghma smiled. Erinn did not know exactly how she knew that he was smiling, but she did, just as she could picture his weathered and ancient face, just as it had been ten millennia ago, when he had walked the earth as a man. "Relax, child," he said, "and I will tell you the story of just how things improved, and perhaps you will understand why I am here, inside your head, rather than passed on to a new life." Erinn, nestled between two crates, a burlap sack covering her from feet to nose, tried to tell herself that she was safe, that no one would find her here. Instead she felt a spell spring to her hands, found herself whispering its words. "There," Oghma said, "a ward for you. I cannot do that often, but rest easy this night." Erinn settled down, warm in her makeshift nest, closed her eyes, and listened to the Keeper of Wisdom's words roll across her mind.
Fianna was gone, we were no more, we had come to an end. Many moaned that we had followed the whispered voice of Danna, had followed the high paths from the west and south into this land, wished that they had never seen the sea they were singing praises to only months before. The great ones had been killed in the many battles I told you of--Arawn, Carach, Three Fingers--and though they had traded their lives dearly for some of the greatest and most fearsome of the Fomorii, well, their competent fighters and sorcerers were the match of ten of our best mortal warriors. I had come to Daoine, sure that I was needed on the front lines and just as sure that someday, one of the tribesmen of the east, or the halflings and gnomes of the south, or even the benighted barbarians from out of the west, would come upon the mountain of scrolls I had assembled and learn who we were. Perhaps give a prayer to Danna when we had become silent. At the time it was a wonder even to us, who you think of as the Ancients. There we found ruins, and we would come to know that they were built before the Titans' children set foot in the world, by your people, Erinn.
I recall vividly to this day what an oddly dark night it was when I rowed ashore in my longboat, but it seemed fitting at the time. I would learn later that it was a lunar eclipse, a night which is auspicious for secrets and magecraft, and little else. It was both magic and secrets that I found then, though, so I suppose it was appropriate. I found an ancient cairn, its designs and carvings worn but more delicate than anything a Fiannan hand had ever crafted. I began to dig beneath it, burying the scrolls and tomes I had brought with me, trying desperately to keep the tears in my eyes rather than on the already salt-weathered parchment. It was then I heard a voice, very close.
"Tell me, human, if you have that many secrets to hide, why did you write them down in the first place?"
I started, turning about, and I saw an impossibly slender--and quite frankly, beautiful--figure sitting on a piece of ancient stonework. Moonlight seemed to shine on him, though as I mentioned there was none. His silver hair was braided, and his dark eyes looked amused. His long and pointed ears betrayed him to be what we called the Ellyl--an elf. Attempting not to seem completely taken aback, I set the tome down, smiled wryly, and explained to him exactly what I was doing.
His name, I learned, was Illiarus, and he had come to Fianna on an errand from his goddess, whom he called Gaia. He told me that she was the mother of the elven races, and the grandmother of both my own and the Titans' progeny who had ravaged our lands. I explained to him, in return, that the Fiannans, unlike our brethren whom we had left in the south and west so many years ago, venerated a lady, a fair mother named Danna. He smiled a knowing smile and led me about a mile away, off to the north. Funny, Daoine is a very different place these days, and there is something rather in the way of the spot that Illiarus took me. What he showed me was a column, covered in names and images, all of which belonged to the mother of our world. I began to sense the point of the discussion long before he reached the name, the image, the sacred symbols which had been given our seers in dreams, of Danna herself. Our mother, it seemed, was theirs.
"Orima," he said, for that was my name then, "I am what you would call, in your language, a druid--a wise one of the forest. Our mother, Gaia, tasked us long ago with protecting this world as best we could. She gave us the task of striving to create a balance, a pleasant harmony, and that is all but gone these late years. The pride of Patrus and the ruthlessness of Sol have brought this barbaric crusade which seems to have no purpose but to halt change with a blood payment." It is worth noting that I had no idea of what Illiarus was talking about. I had not met an elf, and goodness knows I had not met an Eracian. The Titans themselves had little need to walk in our lands, as their most brutal and capable children the Fomorii were in little need of assistance in their massacre. "As I was saying," Illiarus had continued, "I didn't come here to look over this old ruin. I came here because it was easy, because the trees of the west still mingle their roots with those of this old temple. I intended to craft a boat, or shift into a seal, and find my way to mankind's leaders. But now it seems I have a guide. Perhaps you can give me some hint as to how your leaders might feel?"
I had no idea what my leaders thought. I had no idea what leaders were still alive, or if there was an army. If there were even children. For a week it had been only myself, the sea, and the last works of the people of Fianna. I must have had an odd, and hungry look in my eyes when I turned to face the elf, given the expression on his face. I couldn't read it at the time, mind you, but I've had some experience deciphering the expressions of the Fair since then. "What do you wish to ask them?" I said.
Illiarus smiled. "We'd like to know if they would be receptive to help. We have an army waiting on the moor, but we've been very careful not to impose on other civi--"
The elf stopped short then. I had fallen, in my filthy clothing, onto the ground before him, had grasped the folds of his robe with my mud-encrusted hands, and I began to weep. I will never forget how grateful I was to him for looking down on me, not with pity, but with sympathy, and even a kind of kinship. I still don't understand it. He lifted me up, and said, "Then we will fight on your behalf against the children of the Titans. Come, have you ever travelled by root and stone before, brother? I suppose not. But there is always a first time."
And that is how things began to get better, Erinn. I will tell you more tomorrow. Go to sleep now, child, while the wards still hold.
Wednesday, October 24, 2012
Myths and Beginnings Part 2: The Sentinels of the East
This is a letter I recently received from Druidess Dierdre. I thought the Elders might find it of interest, as even Oghma did not know this story.
--Archdruidess Erinn
Dearest Erinn,
I heard a story recently that I thought you'd find interesting, from Halura. [Note: Halura Ironheart is Head Artificer of Gora] Gina and I have been trying to get her to talk about gnomish history and culture as much as we can, and we actually got a creation myth out of her! Sorry ahead of time if this is something the Voice of Oghma knew, but I thought it better to be safe than sorry--and better to send you a letter now than to try and remember all this for months.
So, from the way she tells it, the gnomes once had a single god, apparently with a name that has been lost or was secret. Halura doesn't know it, and there aren't gnomish priests anymore. According to Halura, the gnomes had been around about as long as the elves, and when the Titans began planning to make races of their own, the god wanted to teach the gnomes everything he knew that they could understand. So he split himself up sixty-four pieces (I don't have any idea why this number is important), and imbued his greatest servants. They became known as the Shapers, and they taught the then-barbaric gnomes a lot of what they're famous for, as well as agriculture, music, and love, but I'll get to that in a little bit.
When the Titan Wars started, and both sides started looking for allies, they went to the gnomes, but the Shapers refused to join. They started to worry that the gnomes were going to become a target, and when it looked like the Fiannans weren't going to hold out anymore (you and your old friend know all about that part), they convened and made a decision. They decided they'd given all the knowledge of their deity to the gnomes, and it was time for them to spread their divinity around in a way that would make the gnomes less of a target AND give them powerful weapons and defenses. Eight of them, a tight-knit family of crafstmen, musicians, and farmers, were aghast at this plan, thinking it would make the gnomes a godless people. So they departed west and took eight clans with them. I can't say what happened to them, the story doesn't follow them beyond that.
I told you the other day about our meeting with the Imperial operative Ganz, and Halura, and her steward Davian. We're getting ready to head for Gora now, and this story came up because it's related to the Leviathan creature I told you about. A large number of the Shapers decided to become Sentinels, monstrously powerful creatures that were really a kind of incredibly powerful artifact. Not only was there the Leviathan, but there were two others, though one is destroyed and the other lost now. Actually, I think Halura was holding on to some information about them, but I doubt it's important to our mission anyway. The point is, a large number of the Shapers sacrificed themselves to imbue these massive creatures, and most of the other ones became spirits, or incredibly powerful magical defenses. Halura seemed a little puzzled on this, and she said it's one of the great mysteries of her race that they don't quite know what happened to all of their old demi-gods.
Anyway, I thought you might like to hear this story, even if it's not terribly complete. I'm sending it out by courier from Nalcira, so by the time you get it I should be back in Talar. Please send us something to let us know what you'd like to find out from the Talarans, once we've solidified our friendship with Gora. I won't let Gina see this, she always makes fun of me for sending such long-winded letters--but I thought you could use something to read. I hope you're not too awfully lonely, with all the Fenians out in the world and no one but sages and Elders to keep you company in that drafty stone hall! If it weren't for tradition, we'd build you a proper palace, you know.
Be well, Erinn. I really do miss you, and I'm looking forward to going to Kerg's gathering this midwinter with you and Gina, and maybe some of the others? I'd love to meet some of your and Gina's friends from the war, too. It was a long thirty years of fighting, and I missed out on practically all but a week of it! I'm rambling on now, so I will write you again when I know more about the Leviathan.
With love,
Dierdre
This is a letter I recently received from Druidess Dierdre. I thought the Elders might find it of interest, as even Oghma did not know this story.
--Archdruidess Erinn
Dearest Erinn,
I heard a story recently that I thought you'd find interesting, from Halura. [Note: Halura Ironheart is Head Artificer of Gora] Gina and I have been trying to get her to talk about gnomish history and culture as much as we can, and we actually got a creation myth out of her! Sorry ahead of time if this is something the Voice of Oghma knew, but I thought it better to be safe than sorry--and better to send you a letter now than to try and remember all this for months.
So, from the way she tells it, the gnomes once had a single god, apparently with a name that has been lost or was secret. Halura doesn't know it, and there aren't gnomish priests anymore. According to Halura, the gnomes had been around about as long as the elves, and when the Titans began planning to make races of their own, the god wanted to teach the gnomes everything he knew that they could understand. So he split himself up sixty-four pieces (I don't have any idea why this number is important), and imbued his greatest servants. They became known as the Shapers, and they taught the then-barbaric gnomes a lot of what they're famous for, as well as agriculture, music, and love, but I'll get to that in a little bit.
When the Titan Wars started, and both sides started looking for allies, they went to the gnomes, but the Shapers refused to join. They started to worry that the gnomes were going to become a target, and when it looked like the Fiannans weren't going to hold out anymore (you and your old friend know all about that part), they convened and made a decision. They decided they'd given all the knowledge of their deity to the gnomes, and it was time for them to spread their divinity around in a way that would make the gnomes less of a target AND give them powerful weapons and defenses. Eight of them, a tight-knit family of crafstmen, musicians, and farmers, were aghast at this plan, thinking it would make the gnomes a godless people. So they departed west and took eight clans with them. I can't say what happened to them, the story doesn't follow them beyond that.
I told you the other day about our meeting with the Imperial operative Ganz, and Halura, and her steward Davian. We're getting ready to head for Gora now, and this story came up because it's related to the Leviathan creature I told you about. A large number of the Shapers decided to become Sentinels, monstrously powerful creatures that were really a kind of incredibly powerful artifact. Not only was there the Leviathan, but there were two others, though one is destroyed and the other lost now. Actually, I think Halura was holding on to some information about them, but I doubt it's important to our mission anyway. The point is, a large number of the Shapers sacrificed themselves to imbue these massive creatures, and most of the other ones became spirits, or incredibly powerful magical defenses. Halura seemed a little puzzled on this, and she said it's one of the great mysteries of her race that they don't quite know what happened to all of their old demi-gods.
Anyway, I thought you might like to hear this story, even if it's not terribly complete. I'm sending it out by courier from Nalcira, so by the time you get it I should be back in Talar. Please send us something to let us know what you'd like to find out from the Talarans, once we've solidified our friendship with Gora. I won't let Gina see this, she always makes fun of me for sending such long-winded letters--but I thought you could use something to read. I hope you're not too awfully lonely, with all the Fenians out in the world and no one but sages and Elders to keep you company in that drafty stone hall! If it weren't for tradition, we'd build you a proper palace, you know.
Be well, Erinn. I really do miss you, and I'm looking forward to going to Kerg's gathering this midwinter with you and Gina, and maybe some of the others? I'd love to meet some of your and Gina's friends from the war, too. It was a long thirty years of fighting, and I missed out on practically all but a week of it! I'm rambling on now, so I will write you again when I know more about the Leviathan.
With love,
Dierdre
Saturday, October 13, 2012
Myths and Beginnings Part 1: Deities and their Children
The lands surrounding the Aster Sea, including the Empire itself, are home to people who worship a number of pantheons, as well as the shadows and remnants of fallen deities. Following is an incomplete description of how these gods are related, revealed in a document found and analyzed by a young scholar of the Imperial Academy of Magic, circa the seventh month of ER 1109.
[Editor's Note]This transcription is to be brought for review before the High Council of Magi with the approval of executors Aerth and Amisa. This excerpt of a transcript, written by a Bevinan scribe around 350 ER, was only recently located, magically concealed within the Academy tower itself. It seems that, like so many other things, this knowledge was intentionally hidden, more than likely by a Nerenean mage or scribe. Why it was concealed is open to speculation, though I would imagine it was deemed unacceptable in that it shows a link between the Elven gods and our own, as well as brings attention to the Titans.
--Abigail, apprentice to Magus Aerth
[Handwritten note] Young Abigail has been tasked with unearthing concealed knowledge both within and without the libraries of our capital. This speaks greatly to her strengths, and she would be highly embarrassed were I to tell you of her greatest accomplishment of scholarship. Needless to say, expect more texts, and greater insight, from my young apprentice.
The story of our world is said to have begun some half a million years past, with its adoption by a goddess named Gaia. How long it toiled without the aid of deities before that is a question that will, I would imagine, never be answered. It is hard to say what the Elven priests themselves know of their prime deity, but from what has been passed down to mankind, we know that she joined with Aether to give birth to the oldest of the Titans. Aether passed away from this world, but Gaia chose to remain a mother to our world, rather than leaving it in the hands of her children. After a number of years, the Titans, who had now flourished in the world and its higher planes, expressed to her a desire to create life. Gaia responded by asking them to bide their time, and it was then that she brought forth the race of Elves, who were to be responsible to the world as a whole. They would inherit not only the justness and beauty of their deity, but they would also receive mysteries from her that no others would. The Titans were jealous, but knew better than to speak out against their parent, lest they be denied the right to create.
After the Elves had been allowed to flourish and spread, the Titans were permitted to create life of their own. These were, primarily, the giants, the goblinoids, and some say the orcs. Certainly there were others, though no one is certain of their nature as they no longer survive. During the time of these creatures' flourishing--and incessant wars with the Elven races--a god named Caelum came to Gaia, and together they birthed the pantheons of what we now prosaically call "gods". Caelum, it came to be known, was a child of Aether by another deity, and he brought with him his brother Zurvan, who chose to remain within Gaia's spheres and bring forth his own children. Zurvan, though of an older generation, is considered an equal of Patrus, the head of the Eracian pantheon, as he himself brought forth the more fractious Araden gods.
The inception of the human deities was not well chronicled through the first generation, and there is much debate on the parentage of Hespera, though the most agreed-upon scenario is that she was born to a Titaness of high order and a "wandering god" much like Aether. Patrus, son of Gaia and Caelum, went on to become the patriarch of the Aster Palace and as such the highest lord of the Eracian peoples. It is said that he had many brothers and sisters, though a great number of gods perished in the latter wars with the Titans.
Conflict began between the Titans and the gods when Patrus and Ahura convened to create their own race--humankind. Most texts record this as taking place roughly eleven and a half thousand years past. The humans themselves were far better at cooperating with other races, at using tools, and at governing themselves than the more chaotic giants and their servants, and within a mere millenium began to overshadow the older races. The Titans, and their leader Sol, responded by demanding that the humans give over a portion of their knowledge and land to the Titans' children. Ahura, embroiled in his own conflicts with his brother Ahriman, relented and sent his own people into the wastelands south and west of the Aster Sea, but proud Patrus flatly denied their request, saying that mankind's innovations had only begun, and that the races better able to adapt would be the ones to flourish in the company of Gaia.
The Titans' characteristically bombastic and furious response to this was a series of bloody wars, with the ultimate goal of razing the Aster Palace--an entire plane of existence--to rubble. At the same time they marched their children to war against mankind, and it is known that the Elven races rushed to intervene, displaying Gaia's displeasure with her older children at such bellicose action. The Aster Palace itself was assaulted by an immense number of Titans, yet the gods and their lesser servants were able, after much attrition, to fend off the Titans. This success was largely due to the assistance of the defector Alessi, whose sense of justice caused her to defect to the side of the gods when the giantkin began their massacres. Ultimately, the Titans themselves were slain, or perhaps exiled, and their lineage no longer has any noticeable affect on our world.
[Editor's Note] Little else of the rest of this treatise is of any use in our research, as it goes on to detail rites and sacraments which are largely known today. What remains striking is what is omitted--there is no mention of Fianna, of the Besens, or of the gnomes' god or gods or lack thereof. More importantly, the existence of the Spires was clearly unknown by the ecclesiastical class during this time period, but at the same time far more was known of the elves than in recent generations. We were certainly aware that misinformation had already been spread by the Nereneans by this time--after all, it started immediately after colonization--but this gives us more hints as to what had been obscured when, and to what extent. With perseverance, many more such documents will find their way into the hands of the Academy.
[Neatly printed note] Dear, this old text is most enlightening, if not particularly well-written! When this came to my desk I did some further analysis and came to the conclusion that this text was obscured around 450 EC, around the time that relations began to sour permanently between Eracia and the Elves. I spoke directly with Aelethindra herself in Terescu last week, and she confirmed for me that it was around that time when a great deal of hostility began being directed toward the Elven enclaves in general, and the Dipolomatic corp in particular. In the meantime, I've passed information down the line to Evenard that the agents of the Imperial Corp should all be briefed on Nerenean cipher language, and be trained to recognize such code out in the field. Keep up the excellent work, Abigail, and remind that old goat Aerth to bring you something nice to eat every once in a while!
--Amisa
[Editor's Note]This transcription is to be brought for review before the High Council of Magi with the approval of executors Aerth and Amisa. This excerpt of a transcript, written by a Bevinan scribe around 350 ER, was only recently located, magically concealed within the Academy tower itself. It seems that, like so many other things, this knowledge was intentionally hidden, more than likely by a Nerenean mage or scribe. Why it was concealed is open to speculation, though I would imagine it was deemed unacceptable in that it shows a link between the Elven gods and our own, as well as brings attention to the Titans.
--Abigail, apprentice to Magus Aerth
[Handwritten note] Young Abigail has been tasked with unearthing concealed knowledge both within and without the libraries of our capital. This speaks greatly to her strengths, and she would be highly embarrassed were I to tell you of her greatest accomplishment of scholarship. Needless to say, expect more texts, and greater insight, from my young apprentice.
--Aerth, Magus Primus of the Imperial Academy of Magic
The story of our world is said to have begun some half a million years past, with its adoption by a goddess named Gaia. How long it toiled without the aid of deities before that is a question that will, I would imagine, never be answered. It is hard to say what the Elven priests themselves know of their prime deity, but from what has been passed down to mankind, we know that she joined with Aether to give birth to the oldest of the Titans. Aether passed away from this world, but Gaia chose to remain a mother to our world, rather than leaving it in the hands of her children. After a number of years, the Titans, who had now flourished in the world and its higher planes, expressed to her a desire to create life. Gaia responded by asking them to bide their time, and it was then that she brought forth the race of Elves, who were to be responsible to the world as a whole. They would inherit not only the justness and beauty of their deity, but they would also receive mysteries from her that no others would. The Titans were jealous, but knew better than to speak out against their parent, lest they be denied the right to create.
After the Elves had been allowed to flourish and spread, the Titans were permitted to create life of their own. These were, primarily, the giants, the goblinoids, and some say the orcs. Certainly there were others, though no one is certain of their nature as they no longer survive. During the time of these creatures' flourishing--and incessant wars with the Elven races--a god named Caelum came to Gaia, and together they birthed the pantheons of what we now prosaically call "gods". Caelum, it came to be known, was a child of Aether by another deity, and he brought with him his brother Zurvan, who chose to remain within Gaia's spheres and bring forth his own children. Zurvan, though of an older generation, is considered an equal of Patrus, the head of the Eracian pantheon, as he himself brought forth the more fractious Araden gods.
The inception of the human deities was not well chronicled through the first generation, and there is much debate on the parentage of Hespera, though the most agreed-upon scenario is that she was born to a Titaness of high order and a "wandering god" much like Aether. Patrus, son of Gaia and Caelum, went on to become the patriarch of the Aster Palace and as such the highest lord of the Eracian peoples. It is said that he had many brothers and sisters, though a great number of gods perished in the latter wars with the Titans.
Conflict began between the Titans and the gods when Patrus and Ahura convened to create their own race--humankind. Most texts record this as taking place roughly eleven and a half thousand years past. The humans themselves were far better at cooperating with other races, at using tools, and at governing themselves than the more chaotic giants and their servants, and within a mere millenium began to overshadow the older races. The Titans, and their leader Sol, responded by demanding that the humans give over a portion of their knowledge and land to the Titans' children. Ahura, embroiled in his own conflicts with his brother Ahriman, relented and sent his own people into the wastelands south and west of the Aster Sea, but proud Patrus flatly denied their request, saying that mankind's innovations had only begun, and that the races better able to adapt would be the ones to flourish in the company of Gaia.
The Titans' characteristically bombastic and furious response to this was a series of bloody wars, with the ultimate goal of razing the Aster Palace--an entire plane of existence--to rubble. At the same time they marched their children to war against mankind, and it is known that the Elven races rushed to intervene, displaying Gaia's displeasure with her older children at such bellicose action. The Aster Palace itself was assaulted by an immense number of Titans, yet the gods and their lesser servants were able, after much attrition, to fend off the Titans. This success was largely due to the assistance of the defector Alessi, whose sense of justice caused her to defect to the side of the gods when the giantkin began their massacres. Ultimately, the Titans themselves were slain, or perhaps exiled, and their lineage no longer has any noticeable affect on our world.
[Editor's Note] Little else of the rest of this treatise is of any use in our research, as it goes on to detail rites and sacraments which are largely known today. What remains striking is what is omitted--there is no mention of Fianna, of the Besens, or of the gnomes' god or gods or lack thereof. More importantly, the existence of the Spires was clearly unknown by the ecclesiastical class during this time period, but at the same time far more was known of the elves than in recent generations. We were certainly aware that misinformation had already been spread by the Nereneans by this time--after all, it started immediately after colonization--but this gives us more hints as to what had been obscured when, and to what extent. With perseverance, many more such documents will find their way into the hands of the Academy.
[Neatly printed note] Dear, this old text is most enlightening, if not particularly well-written! When this came to my desk I did some further analysis and came to the conclusion that this text was obscured around 450 EC, around the time that relations began to sour permanently between Eracia and the Elves. I spoke directly with Aelethindra herself in Terescu last week, and she confirmed for me that it was around that time when a great deal of hostility began being directed toward the Elven enclaves in general, and the Dipolomatic corp in particular. In the meantime, I've passed information down the line to Evenard that the agents of the Imperial Corp should all be briefed on Nerenean cipher language, and be trained to recognize such code out in the field. Keep up the excellent work, Abigail, and remind that old goat Aerth to bring you something nice to eat every once in a while!
--Amisa
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