Sitting next to the Steppes, the Jorvin Empire begins at the edge of the vast grasslands and sweeps west and south. To the north it is bounded by the Ice Claw sea, which draws in to the Ice Princedoms bordering the Tundra, and at the south by the Maiden river, which rises in the Greycap Mountains and proceeds west and south to the Silver Sea. In the west the Empire peters out as it meets other kingdoms. Military resistance rather than anything else prevents further expansion. Overall the Empire runs about 700 miles from east to west and 600 from north to south.
This does not stop the Empire from claiming sovereignty over other lands, and the Emperor's voice is one of the strongest in the western kingdoms, rivalled only by the Church's leaders in its authority. A number of other states owe fealty to the Wolf Throne, or are claimed specifically as lands belonging to the Emperor. Hence the Ice Princedoms and the previous situation with Allreyd, where the king was a keen supporter of the Empire. Hence too the throne's insistence that the Jorn Isles to the north west are part of the Empire, even after the awakening of Ember the Thrice Cursed and the driving out humans from all but the most peripheral of the islands.
The Empire has the clout to make most of its claims stick, too. It raises levies of soldiers from its peasantry and nobles, imposing taxes on anyone who fails to provide troops in times of war (the revenue from this usually goes to hire mercenaries). In addition the Wolf Throne has created five orders of knights, which are invested in the capital, Gruchstadt; and are specifically committed to the Emperor's security. The Wolf Order, the oldest of them, is specifically dedicated to keeping the Emperor alive, and was founded after an assassination attempt early in the Empire's history. Other orders focus on specific threats; though the largest, the Order of the Rose, is simply a regiment of strong warriors. Privately some members will admit that the various orders are more social clubs than anything serious, but the members are also required to be elite soldiers, and to have enough money to pay for equipment of a certain quality, which elevate them beyond the reach of the common fighting man.
A fleet of ships patrols the Ice Claw Sea, ostensibly looking for pirates and is homed in the port city of Landungstadt, where the first of the Jorn refugees made landfall in the area, before there was an Empire. Now it is dominated by thick city walls and a castle to defend the ship yards whilst artificial reefs have created a hazardous channel into the port that forces ships to depend upon the city's pilots to gain access. Whether or not these measures are justified is a matter of debate, but the Jorvin Emperors have always invested heavily in defence, perhaps with a weather eye towards the land they abandoned, lest the wyrm should seek out new prey.
The Empire also draws on the services of the Wizard Families, though this is not a matter of fealty. The Families contract their services to the Wolf Throne for specific purposes, whether that's warfare, security, or simply undertaking work that requires their specialist knowledge. All nobles, mayors and burghers may hire magical assistance, and this forms one of the cornerstones of the Families power, both economically and in terms of how wizards are perceived by the public. Because they are associated with the Throne, and various Manors, even the most anti magic people tend to leave them alone, out of fear for the possible reprisals.
In terms of terrain the Empire is mixed, thick forests lie to the south, and are said to be the home of elves or dryads, though nobody can confirm that; if there are non humans dwelling in the forest, they don't advertise themselves. Their presence is more a belief, based on the condition of certain, ancient trees which are sometimes found garlanded with flowers and carved wooden tools. The east is a mixture of hills and plains, and is rich in ores, as are the Greycap mountains which provide much of the Empire's iron deposits. The west provides rich farmland, earning it the title of the Empire's bread basket, growing wheat, barley and other grains, in addition to the bulk of vegetables. Meat production is more common in the east, where the hills allow for sheep grazing, but the west is known for its pigs and oxen. The west is also rife with marshes, which are the home of mosquitoes, and of the Marsh Men, a species of near feral water dwellers who raid the nearby homes. A series of lakes sits almost in the very centre of the Empire, providing the Imperial Court with their winter palace when they withdraw from the capital.
The Empire's climate provides heavy winters, where rivers and lakes freeze thickly enough for markets to be held on the ice, and hot summers blighted with mosquitoes and storms. Spring and autumn tend towards wet but sunny, and its this mix that makes the Empire's farms so productive.
The people in the Empire draw from a number of different races and tribes. The Jorn (pronounced Yorn) are the most well known, having risen from refugees to rulers in the space of one hundred years. In doing so they conquered the other tribes, who at the time of their arrival dwelt peacable, trading with one another and only warring on occasion. They were held to their peace by the local version of the Church, which promulgated the virtues of peace and prosperity. The Jorn are a tall race, black haired and dark eyed, which contrasts with their milk white skin.
The next most prosperous people are the Gullson (pronounced Goollson), the people of the west. Strongly built with blonde hair and blue eyes being dominant in their ranks, they are an agrarian people for the most part. They have spread throughout the Empire, naturally, and can be found in most major cities, often in roles connected with the food grown in the west. The Gullson also went on to found a kingdom in the west, which has thus far resisted the Empire's attempts at expansion.
The south is populated by the Marlson, who are shorter and less powerfully built than the Gullson, but share their blonde hair and blue eyes, whilst the east is divided between the Javin (Yavin), named for the river that runs through their ancestral lands, and the Ralzad, a horse tribe that has settled in Empire, and provides them with their horses. The people here are smaller and darker than their western cousins and speak both the Jorn of the official imperial business and their own dialects, something that has largely died out in the west.
In addition to this the Empire is home to refugees, adventurers and nomads, people looking for a new home, or a quick buck. People from Sharoban, the Steppes, even the Tundra, fetch up inside the Empire's borders, admittedly something that's easier to do now that the Empire is expanding out onto the Steppe itself, in search of land for its sons and daughters. Other travellers have also made their way though, some of them quite surprising. In addition to people from Allreyd, or the Jorn Isles, and other kingdoms there are rumours of non humans who are not tied to the places where their people made the pact. These has included stories of a woman who seemed to have slightly wooden appearance, and according to reports melded with the forests with alarming ease. There are reports of cat people along the Maiden River, often working as merchants and dock workers, and the Marsh Men have been known to undertake their own mysterious journeys. These last have seldom been well received, and its rare for their journeys to be a success; there is a standing bounty on their heads in the western part of the Empire, and they are often shot on sight.
Despite this parts of the Empire prove to be as much melting pots as Sharoban, and there are ghettos in almost every Jorvin city. Integration comes harder here, the Empire's perspective on the world makes them haughty and creates barriers to outsiders. As a result ghettos are the most popular solution, one supported by the nobility and the forces of law and order. Where there aren't enough of one race to create a ghetto, they tend to end up shoehorned into an pre-existing ghetto and left to get on with it. As a result areas in cities that are nominally dedicated to one community, end up having more diversity than the areas outside them. It creates tensions however and it is not uncommon for the ghettos to see their own violence as long standing communities object to newcomers. Crimes of this nature are often overlooked, allowing the perpetrators to get away with it scot free.
Next time we'll examine the politics of the Empire, and how the Wolf Throne retains command.
Sunday, 9 August 2015
Sunday, 2 August 2015
An Aside
Hi,
This entry isn't going to be more content but rather a quick question for, the reader, to answer.
Now that the Steppes have been more or less finished off here (in the sense that I'm sure I can find more to add if I have to), I'm wondering about collecting the blog entries into a PDF to sell, at a reasonable price. Would that be of interest to you? How much would you be willing to pay, and what extra content would you be interested in seeing, to give you the chance to get something that's not been on the 'web?
I really want express thanks to anyone who's read the blog, and I hope you've enjoyed the world I've been building so far. I welcome your feedback and thoughts on what you post and appreciate your comments.
This entry isn't going to be more content but rather a quick question for, the reader, to answer.
Now that the Steppes have been more or less finished off here (in the sense that I'm sure I can find more to add if I have to), I'm wondering about collecting the blog entries into a PDF to sell, at a reasonable price. Would that be of interest to you? How much would you be willing to pay, and what extra content would you be interested in seeing, to give you the chance to get something that's not been on the 'web?
I really want express thanks to anyone who's read the blog, and I hope you've enjoyed the world I've been building so far. I welcome your feedback and thoughts on what you post and appreciate your comments.
Saturday, 1 August 2015
The Witch Tribes
The most easterly group of people on the Steppes, the Witch Tribes', or Wise People as they call themselves, lands begin where the land begins to dip away into a crater several hundred miles wide. They are a discrete group among the Steppe dwellers, taller and paler than the other tribesmen, with thick curly hair and piercing brown eyes. The other thing that sets them apart is a lineage that they claim, one that reaches back to a curious set of ruins at the heart of their shared lands.
Their legends claim that once the ruins were a city, a metropolis of magic and myth, where their traditions were born and they commanded spirits, of all sorts, to work wonders. At the heart of the city sat the Star Heart, which had fallen from the sky and created the crater in the beginning. According to the stories the Witch Tribes used the knowledge they gleaned from the Heart, which they described as a beating thing, made of stone but still functional as an organ, to raise the city with help of magical servants. Elementals, demons and others were pressed into their service, bound to tasks and punished if they failed. With their assistance the witch women grew food and banished the bitter winters. Civilisation bloomed, great houses developed as the women became powerful, and passed that power to their daughters. Puberty became significant not just as a sign of maturation but as the point where the first hexes and incantations were taught. Men were raised as labourers, scholars and soldiers but denied any form of arcane power, from fear that they would misuse it.
Most of the tales the Tribes tell of the city suggest it was a paradise, which creates a nagging question of how it fell. Here, the lorekeepers tend to clam up and refuse to be drawn on the matter. There is of course speculation, from stories of bargains gone astray, and demons who were impossible to placate. Inevitably there are stories of men who learned magic and brought doom on the area, one more reason why the Witch Tribe men are still barred from learning even the simplest cantrip. Only a few stories tell of war and destruction, even though the ruin's stones are marked by fire even centuries after they were abandoned. The fact that each of the tribe matriarchs proudly traces her lineage, real or imagined, back to the city and that there is a great deal of antipathy between the tribes is ignored. The elaborate rituals they use to secure peace when tribes meet are similarly set aside, as are the spirits that still lurk in the ruins, keeping all humans out. So fearsome are the defenders of the ancient city that a small group of Sharoban's graduates have a yearly contest to see which of them can brave the crater and retrieve a token from the remains, in a sport called 'ruin running'. So far only a handful of the competitors have returned, and all of them barely escaped with their lives. Their reports suggest a number of powerful and inhuman creatures now inhabit the area, including a chimera that has the body of a tiger and the tail of a scorpion, and is believed to haunt the Inner Market area.
The origins of these creatures are not known, but there is some speculation that they are bound to the place, especially as they never seem to venture into the wider world.
Away from the ruins, the Tribes have fallen into a way of life very similar to their cousins elsewhere, following their herds, minding their borders and fighting small, sporadic, wars with their rivals. Moots are rare and only held for marriage reasons, or if there is a shortage of something. Even a threat from outside the area is unlikely to unite the tribes, and any alliances that are forced into existence that way perish within weeks.
The Tribes are stolidly, and openly, matriarchal. Men do as they are told and do not even occupy positions of authority during wartime, even if they are expected to be on the front line of any fighting. Women form the strategy and diplomatic groups for every tribe, and it is an established fact that they will not deal with men. Caravans who pass through Witch Tribe lands always take a woman to serve as a negotiator as a result. This isn't to say men have no influence, but it's small. It's rare for a man to get his own way and floggings of disobedient males aren't uncommon. That being said, the tribe leader is very much the mother of the tribe and she will typically take a personal interest in the men's well being. Cynics might say that this is to ensure that good matches are made, but there's little evidence for this.
The other constant is the use of magic. Almost every aspect of life is governed by ritual; the women tend to the spirits whilst the men tend to the world. Offerings are made regularly and every territory has locations rich with offered blood, bones and skulls; all to appease the spirits and win their allegiance. Where this differs from shamanism is that the Wise People do not simply ask for aid, their rituals continue long standing bargains that require the invisible world to give them aid, and which can be enforced if necessary. Women still offer their blood, and their lovers for mystical aid, and whilst the stories of men being sacrificed after successfully impregnating their wives are just that, stories, they remain and there's a nagging sensation that they have been true at some point in the past.
In their relationships with the other Steppe inhabitants the People maintain a singular face; closed, standoffish. They do not mix well with the other nomads, nor with the Arctic tribes. They may trade with Sharoban's caravans but only at a safe distance, and woe betide the ruin runners who cross their lands without caution. They have no time for Giants or Hobgoblins, and battle both groups with equal vigour.
The advice given to those who must cross the People's lands is; travel swiftly, be polite and take nothing away.
Next time, we'll turn our attention to the west and the Jorvin Empire, beginning with an overview and a small slice of history.
Their legends claim that once the ruins were a city, a metropolis of magic and myth, where their traditions were born and they commanded spirits, of all sorts, to work wonders. At the heart of the city sat the Star Heart, which had fallen from the sky and created the crater in the beginning. According to the stories the Witch Tribes used the knowledge they gleaned from the Heart, which they described as a beating thing, made of stone but still functional as an organ, to raise the city with help of magical servants. Elementals, demons and others were pressed into their service, bound to tasks and punished if they failed. With their assistance the witch women grew food and banished the bitter winters. Civilisation bloomed, great houses developed as the women became powerful, and passed that power to their daughters. Puberty became significant not just as a sign of maturation but as the point where the first hexes and incantations were taught. Men were raised as labourers, scholars and soldiers but denied any form of arcane power, from fear that they would misuse it.
Most of the tales the Tribes tell of the city suggest it was a paradise, which creates a nagging question of how it fell. Here, the lorekeepers tend to clam up and refuse to be drawn on the matter. There is of course speculation, from stories of bargains gone astray, and demons who were impossible to placate. Inevitably there are stories of men who learned magic and brought doom on the area, one more reason why the Witch Tribe men are still barred from learning even the simplest cantrip. Only a few stories tell of war and destruction, even though the ruin's stones are marked by fire even centuries after they were abandoned. The fact that each of the tribe matriarchs proudly traces her lineage, real or imagined, back to the city and that there is a great deal of antipathy between the tribes is ignored. The elaborate rituals they use to secure peace when tribes meet are similarly set aside, as are the spirits that still lurk in the ruins, keeping all humans out. So fearsome are the defenders of the ancient city that a small group of Sharoban's graduates have a yearly contest to see which of them can brave the crater and retrieve a token from the remains, in a sport called 'ruin running'. So far only a handful of the competitors have returned, and all of them barely escaped with their lives. Their reports suggest a number of powerful and inhuman creatures now inhabit the area, including a chimera that has the body of a tiger and the tail of a scorpion, and is believed to haunt the Inner Market area.
The origins of these creatures are not known, but there is some speculation that they are bound to the place, especially as they never seem to venture into the wider world.
Away from the ruins, the Tribes have fallen into a way of life very similar to their cousins elsewhere, following their herds, minding their borders and fighting small, sporadic, wars with their rivals. Moots are rare and only held for marriage reasons, or if there is a shortage of something. Even a threat from outside the area is unlikely to unite the tribes, and any alliances that are forced into existence that way perish within weeks.
The Tribes are stolidly, and openly, matriarchal. Men do as they are told and do not even occupy positions of authority during wartime, even if they are expected to be on the front line of any fighting. Women form the strategy and diplomatic groups for every tribe, and it is an established fact that they will not deal with men. Caravans who pass through Witch Tribe lands always take a woman to serve as a negotiator as a result. This isn't to say men have no influence, but it's small. It's rare for a man to get his own way and floggings of disobedient males aren't uncommon. That being said, the tribe leader is very much the mother of the tribe and she will typically take a personal interest in the men's well being. Cynics might say that this is to ensure that good matches are made, but there's little evidence for this.
The other constant is the use of magic. Almost every aspect of life is governed by ritual; the women tend to the spirits whilst the men tend to the world. Offerings are made regularly and every territory has locations rich with offered blood, bones and skulls; all to appease the spirits and win their allegiance. Where this differs from shamanism is that the Wise People do not simply ask for aid, their rituals continue long standing bargains that require the invisible world to give them aid, and which can be enforced if necessary. Women still offer their blood, and their lovers for mystical aid, and whilst the stories of men being sacrificed after successfully impregnating their wives are just that, stories, they remain and there's a nagging sensation that they have been true at some point in the past.
In their relationships with the other Steppe inhabitants the People maintain a singular face; closed, standoffish. They do not mix well with the other nomads, nor with the Arctic tribes. They may trade with Sharoban's caravans but only at a safe distance, and woe betide the ruin runners who cross their lands without caution. They have no time for Giants or Hobgoblins, and battle both groups with equal vigour.
The advice given to those who must cross the People's lands is; travel swiftly, be polite and take nothing away.
Next time, we'll turn our attention to the west and the Jorvin Empire, beginning with an overview and a small slice of history.
Monday, 15 December 2014
Tundra: Into the White
Apologies for the silence, life has rather been in the way these past few weeks...
Also, I'm playing with a slightly different format this week, do you like it?
Into the White
North of the Red Veins lies the tundra, a wild untamed plain that stretches north to the pole. A good two thirds of it is snow and ice, though the southern parts of it are covered in a thin, rough scrub land. Sharoban's scholars refer to lower, middle and upper tundra, each term reflecting how much food and cover there is there.
In the lower tundra, red grasses grow over jutting rocks in wild tumbles. In many ways there is little to distinguish the land above the mountains with that below it, except that it is more scoured by the wind and emptier of human life. Higher up snow and ice start to choke the land, transforming it into a dramatic, but harsh environment that is a struggle to survive in. At the very height of the upper tundra the ground falls away to the sea and pack ice. Few people live in the far north, it is the domain of beasts. Across the tundra, there are almost no communities, even nomadic tribes are rare and those that do spend their lives crossing the tundra are strange and clannish, unwilling to trade or communicate with anyone.
The tundra is bordered to the west by the Ice Princedoms, tiny demenses held in thrall by the Jorvin Empire, which constantly feud among themselves, and to the east by the northern Witch Lands, ruled by Yelena, Queen of the Rapturous Blizzard who has sought ascension to a sort of goddesshood for decades. Between these two features of political geography, lies a vast waste unfettered by anything but shifting borders, open to exploration and in many places frustratingly empty. Despite this there are points of interest in the great whiteness, though they are few and far between. Many lie close to the Red Veins, close enough for some shelter when the storms grow really violent.
Werewolves of the Waste
Followers of the Hunter venture into the north to kill and maim animals, safe in the knowledge they will be unmolested. The Hunter approves, the men and women who venture into the ice fields to kill are often granted his favour, including the power to alter their shape at will, becoming werewolves and werebears. The cost is their sanity, they become obsessed with the hunt and unable to relate to people as anything other than prey or potential mates. They war upon each other, battling and hunting one another with their patron's blessing. Ascended to be the ultimate predators, victory over each other becomes the ultimate prize in such an unforgiving environment.
Few and far between the werewolves never return to more populated lands once they have changed. Instead they stay in the north, indulging in the hunt, limiting their interactions with humans to the nomadic tribes, though this usually takes the form of raiding and pillaging. It is at least partially because of this that the few tribes who travel across the north are suspicious and want little or nothing to do outsiders.
The Caribou Tribes
It is not uncommon for the northern tribes, called Caribou Tribes in Sharoban, to subject anyone who wants to speak or trade with them to insist on a series of tests, which usually involves some element of daring to go naked in the snow. The official reason for this is that it allows the tribesmen to see that the visitor is one with the snow. In truth they are looking for brands and marks that would suggest a pact or service to dark gods, although even the Luminal Pantheon is viewed with distrust and their priests welcomed cautiously. This is a legacy of their dealings with the Hunter's followers. Winter presents a problem, there is barely enough light to check newcomers and tribes close their backs to the world, conscious that the long night makes them prime targets for werewolves. They also have to cope with the occasional Hobgoblin attacks, though these are rare. The Goblins prefer to stay close to their food supplies, even if they are capable of hunting far and wide to find prey; they are a cowardly species and the wide openness of the tundra is alien to them.
The tribes themselves are not farmers or even herders. They follow the caribou for the most part, but exert no control over them; not even attempting to guide their path as the nomads of the steppes do. As a result of this it can be hard for them to keep contact with other people and whilst they have a great deal of knowledge of the tundra, it is patchy. Their maps might have vast gaps in it as a result of the winding, difficult routes they've taken. Their cultures are often strange too, very individualistic with few ties to the outside world. The only commonalities are a devotion to light as a source of spiritual nourishment and the idea that the spirits of the dead travel with the tribe even after death. It isn't uncommon for children to be considered as the reincarnations of dead tribe members; though it isn't clear what the basis for this belief is.
The most important figure in the tribe, universally, is the shaman. These figures guide the tribe's steps, beholden to the spirits of light and the 'king deer', the leader of the caribou herd the tribe follows. The most skilled shamans are so in tune with their herds they read the future in the caribous' movements as they walk among them, so much a part of the herd that the deer do not shy away at their approach. Shamans are universally male; eunuchs who are chosen at birth, on the basis that they were shamans in previous lives. Often these children seem to prove the belief that they are reincarnated; apparently remembering places and people they could not possibly know if they had not lived before. Whilst the other tribe members dress drably in furs and thick wool, the shaman cuts a colourful figure, clad in garish cloth with unlikely crowns of horns and feathers to symbolise their link to the spirit world perched upon their heads.
The Winter Wolves
Aside from the threat posed by the werewolves, the other main threat out on the tundra is also lupine in nature. The winter wolves are a particular breed of wolf whiter, larger and hardier than their grey cousins. It is unknown where they originate from, but they are fearsome and merciless. Worryingly intelligent they attack tribes and the few caravans throughout the year, showing no fear of the weapons humans wield, or even fire. An attack can destroy a small tribe, or caravan, leaving corpses strewn across the snow; cruelly the wolves seldom eat everything they slay.
Some say they are the get of werewolves, born from a dalliance between one of the Hunter's own and an alpha male wolf; others believe they are simply another group who made a pact that went wrong. Still more attribute them to a mad shaman who sent the spirits of the dead into a pack of wolves, transforming them into a terrifying danger in the process. The truth may never be known, anyone who knows it is almost certainly dead and there are only so many secrets that the reborn souls of the Caribou Tribes divulge.
There is also a children's story about a wolf prince who fell in love with a mortal woman and drew her out into the tundra snows. They married and had cubs, and would have lived happily every after if it hadn't been for a wicked shaman who wanted the prince's power and kidnapped the woman in order to get it. The story says that the wolves are so fierce because they seek their urmother, imprisoned somewhere among the snows.
The Beacon and the Lake
Sitting to the north of the area most often travelled by the Caribou Tribes, the most important place within the tundra is arguably Lake Ajaya, the giant frozen lake that dominates the centre of the tundra. The lake is dotted with islands, bare pieces of rock which rise out of the ice. At the shore groups of pilgrims gather, having hacked their way through the snow and ice. Different groups come from more than one faith, though it is more common for the followers of the dark gods to make their way to the lake. It is said that one of the principal generals of the dark gods' forces in the Eclipse War was imprisoned here and the worshippers are drawn here to reverence the memory of the dark spirit. They make sacrifices on the islands, seeking to find a way to free the general from its icy jail.
The worshippers of the Luminal Gods maintain a watch house, the Beacon, at the southern point of the lake. This battered building stands tall, its light shining through the uppermost windows throughout the winter months, the fire constantly attended to keep it from shrinking or growing too much. It is maintained by the priesthood of Merida after a handful of her priests were motivated to create it when stories of the dark spirit under the ice filtered down to Sharoban. The outpost finds it hard to survive, not least because getting supplies is hard. In addition the spirit in the lake objects to their presence, sending ice warriors, gleaming soldiers made entirely of ice, to besiege it during the winter months. It is said that to die in the waters of the lake binds you to them, and more, it traps you in the demon's power. The ghastly screams that rise from the ice warriors as they fall under mercenaries' blades are said to be those of souls imprisoned in the lake. As a result the priests frequently send requests to Sharoban for assistance and the city's adventuring reputation means that even for such an unpleasant task there are willing blades to travel north with the final wood supply the Beacon receives for the winter.
It is common for the priests to bless fallen ice warriors, hoping the benediction will release them from their bondage. A slim hope, sadly unfounded in fact. The Beacon's custodian, Anya Coldheart, has concluded anyone who dies in the lake's waters is bound there for eternity. Even recovering dead bodies from the waters and cremating them does nothing to alleviate the suffering of the trapped souls; they rise again from the waters, clutching weapons that are as much part of them as their arms and legs.
Anya has invested a great deal of time trying to discover the name of the lake's prisoner, but has only been able to discern that it is an ice demon of great power. She has a theory that the prisoner was responsible for the Ice Walker that attacked Sharoban many centuries ago and has started to offer a reward for anything that might supply proof. The sell swords who venture north to defend the Beacon frequently find themselves sent further north to look for evidence to support Anya's theory.
This may be one reason for the high turnover of warriors at the Beacon, it is rare for anyone to remain there for more than one winter and most swear they will never return when they return to Sharoban. It is one thing to defend a watchtower from silent, eerie hordes of ice soldiers, quite another to risk the perpetual storms in order to find evidence for a lunatic theory most of them do not think matters. Add to that the biting cold, the threat of winter wolves and the Hunter's followers and it is perhaps more of a wonder that the staff who man the Beacon all year remain.
The dark worshippers do their best to steal past the Beacon, heading to a labyrinth of caves on the eastern edge of the lake. Here, they take the path to the lowest caves, where the air is frigid and the water freezing. Long icicles hang from the roof, animal corpses are set within blocks of ice and frozen as offerings to the demon in the lake. Even her acolytes do not know her name, though she associated with a bewildering number of the Shadow Pantheon. The purpose of the long pilgrimage is two fold, many make the journey to offer prayers or sacrifices, others to enter the waters and bind themselves to the demon in a far more intimate fashion. It is an uncomfortable fact that over half the souls that go to create the ice warriors are volunteers.
The leader of the cave community is a hermit, who has dwelt on the shores of the lake for so long he has forgotten his own name, answering only to 'Macka'. His chief function is to prepare the sacrifices for their descent into the watery depth of Lake Ajaya, binding them so they cannot change their minds and guiding them into a trance so that fear will not overwhelm them as they sink below the surface. Under his tutelage the sacrifices cut a hole in the ice and descend, letting the ice freeze over their heads. If asked what happens next he grunts and mutters something about the demon ripping the supplicants' souls free of their flesh, binding them with unseen chains.
Despite their best efforts the staff at the Beacon have been unable to find the caves the dark worshippers operate out of, whenever they get close something intervenes to turn them away. Macka claims that it is the demon in the lake but the pilgrims are not sure. Much as they would like to believe him, most of them do not believe she cares if they live or die. Nevertheless for the moment the community prospers, and without doubt something watches over them, for good or for ill.
Next time: We head east to the Witch Tribes' lands, to uncover their secrets.
Also, I'm playing with a slightly different format this week, do you like it?
Into the White
North of the Red Veins lies the tundra, a wild untamed plain that stretches north to the pole. A good two thirds of it is snow and ice, though the southern parts of it are covered in a thin, rough scrub land. Sharoban's scholars refer to lower, middle and upper tundra, each term reflecting how much food and cover there is there.
In the lower tundra, red grasses grow over jutting rocks in wild tumbles. In many ways there is little to distinguish the land above the mountains with that below it, except that it is more scoured by the wind and emptier of human life. Higher up snow and ice start to choke the land, transforming it into a dramatic, but harsh environment that is a struggle to survive in. At the very height of the upper tundra the ground falls away to the sea and pack ice. Few people live in the far north, it is the domain of beasts. Across the tundra, there are almost no communities, even nomadic tribes are rare and those that do spend their lives crossing the tundra are strange and clannish, unwilling to trade or communicate with anyone.
The tundra is bordered to the west by the Ice Princedoms, tiny demenses held in thrall by the Jorvin Empire, which constantly feud among themselves, and to the east by the northern Witch Lands, ruled by Yelena, Queen of the Rapturous Blizzard who has sought ascension to a sort of goddesshood for decades. Between these two features of political geography, lies a vast waste unfettered by anything but shifting borders, open to exploration and in many places frustratingly empty. Despite this there are points of interest in the great whiteness, though they are few and far between. Many lie close to the Red Veins, close enough for some shelter when the storms grow really violent.
Werewolves of the Waste
Followers of the Hunter venture into the north to kill and maim animals, safe in the knowledge they will be unmolested. The Hunter approves, the men and women who venture into the ice fields to kill are often granted his favour, including the power to alter their shape at will, becoming werewolves and werebears. The cost is their sanity, they become obsessed with the hunt and unable to relate to people as anything other than prey or potential mates. They war upon each other, battling and hunting one another with their patron's blessing. Ascended to be the ultimate predators, victory over each other becomes the ultimate prize in such an unforgiving environment.
Few and far between the werewolves never return to more populated lands once they have changed. Instead they stay in the north, indulging in the hunt, limiting their interactions with humans to the nomadic tribes, though this usually takes the form of raiding and pillaging. It is at least partially because of this that the few tribes who travel across the north are suspicious and want little or nothing to do outsiders.
The Caribou Tribes
It is not uncommon for the northern tribes, called Caribou Tribes in Sharoban, to subject anyone who wants to speak or trade with them to insist on a series of tests, which usually involves some element of daring to go naked in the snow. The official reason for this is that it allows the tribesmen to see that the visitor is one with the snow. In truth they are looking for brands and marks that would suggest a pact or service to dark gods, although even the Luminal Pantheon is viewed with distrust and their priests welcomed cautiously. This is a legacy of their dealings with the Hunter's followers. Winter presents a problem, there is barely enough light to check newcomers and tribes close their backs to the world, conscious that the long night makes them prime targets for werewolves. They also have to cope with the occasional Hobgoblin attacks, though these are rare. The Goblins prefer to stay close to their food supplies, even if they are capable of hunting far and wide to find prey; they are a cowardly species and the wide openness of the tundra is alien to them.
The tribes themselves are not farmers or even herders. They follow the caribou for the most part, but exert no control over them; not even attempting to guide their path as the nomads of the steppes do. As a result of this it can be hard for them to keep contact with other people and whilst they have a great deal of knowledge of the tundra, it is patchy. Their maps might have vast gaps in it as a result of the winding, difficult routes they've taken. Their cultures are often strange too, very individualistic with few ties to the outside world. The only commonalities are a devotion to light as a source of spiritual nourishment and the idea that the spirits of the dead travel with the tribe even after death. It isn't uncommon for children to be considered as the reincarnations of dead tribe members; though it isn't clear what the basis for this belief is.
The most important figure in the tribe, universally, is the shaman. These figures guide the tribe's steps, beholden to the spirits of light and the 'king deer', the leader of the caribou herd the tribe follows. The most skilled shamans are so in tune with their herds they read the future in the caribous' movements as they walk among them, so much a part of the herd that the deer do not shy away at their approach. Shamans are universally male; eunuchs who are chosen at birth, on the basis that they were shamans in previous lives. Often these children seem to prove the belief that they are reincarnated; apparently remembering places and people they could not possibly know if they had not lived before. Whilst the other tribe members dress drably in furs and thick wool, the shaman cuts a colourful figure, clad in garish cloth with unlikely crowns of horns and feathers to symbolise their link to the spirit world perched upon their heads.
The Winter Wolves
Aside from the threat posed by the werewolves, the other main threat out on the tundra is also lupine in nature. The winter wolves are a particular breed of wolf whiter, larger and hardier than their grey cousins. It is unknown where they originate from, but they are fearsome and merciless. Worryingly intelligent they attack tribes and the few caravans throughout the year, showing no fear of the weapons humans wield, or even fire. An attack can destroy a small tribe, or caravan, leaving corpses strewn across the snow; cruelly the wolves seldom eat everything they slay.
Some say they are the get of werewolves, born from a dalliance between one of the Hunter's own and an alpha male wolf; others believe they are simply another group who made a pact that went wrong. Still more attribute them to a mad shaman who sent the spirits of the dead into a pack of wolves, transforming them into a terrifying danger in the process. The truth may never be known, anyone who knows it is almost certainly dead and there are only so many secrets that the reborn souls of the Caribou Tribes divulge.
There is also a children's story about a wolf prince who fell in love with a mortal woman and drew her out into the tundra snows. They married and had cubs, and would have lived happily every after if it hadn't been for a wicked shaman who wanted the prince's power and kidnapped the woman in order to get it. The story says that the wolves are so fierce because they seek their urmother, imprisoned somewhere among the snows.
The Beacon and the Lake
Sitting to the north of the area most often travelled by the Caribou Tribes, the most important place within the tundra is arguably Lake Ajaya, the giant frozen lake that dominates the centre of the tundra. The lake is dotted with islands, bare pieces of rock which rise out of the ice. At the shore groups of pilgrims gather, having hacked their way through the snow and ice. Different groups come from more than one faith, though it is more common for the followers of the dark gods to make their way to the lake. It is said that one of the principal generals of the dark gods' forces in the Eclipse War was imprisoned here and the worshippers are drawn here to reverence the memory of the dark spirit. They make sacrifices on the islands, seeking to find a way to free the general from its icy jail.
The worshippers of the Luminal Gods maintain a watch house, the Beacon, at the southern point of the lake. This battered building stands tall, its light shining through the uppermost windows throughout the winter months, the fire constantly attended to keep it from shrinking or growing too much. It is maintained by the priesthood of Merida after a handful of her priests were motivated to create it when stories of the dark spirit under the ice filtered down to Sharoban. The outpost finds it hard to survive, not least because getting supplies is hard. In addition the spirit in the lake objects to their presence, sending ice warriors, gleaming soldiers made entirely of ice, to besiege it during the winter months. It is said that to die in the waters of the lake binds you to them, and more, it traps you in the demon's power. The ghastly screams that rise from the ice warriors as they fall under mercenaries' blades are said to be those of souls imprisoned in the lake. As a result the priests frequently send requests to Sharoban for assistance and the city's adventuring reputation means that even for such an unpleasant task there are willing blades to travel north with the final wood supply the Beacon receives for the winter.
It is common for the priests to bless fallen ice warriors, hoping the benediction will release them from their bondage. A slim hope, sadly unfounded in fact. The Beacon's custodian, Anya Coldheart, has concluded anyone who dies in the lake's waters is bound there for eternity. Even recovering dead bodies from the waters and cremating them does nothing to alleviate the suffering of the trapped souls; they rise again from the waters, clutching weapons that are as much part of them as their arms and legs.
Anya has invested a great deal of time trying to discover the name of the lake's prisoner, but has only been able to discern that it is an ice demon of great power. She has a theory that the prisoner was responsible for the Ice Walker that attacked Sharoban many centuries ago and has started to offer a reward for anything that might supply proof. The sell swords who venture north to defend the Beacon frequently find themselves sent further north to look for evidence to support Anya's theory.
This may be one reason for the high turnover of warriors at the Beacon, it is rare for anyone to remain there for more than one winter and most swear they will never return when they return to Sharoban. It is one thing to defend a watchtower from silent, eerie hordes of ice soldiers, quite another to risk the perpetual storms in order to find evidence for a lunatic theory most of them do not think matters. Add to that the biting cold, the threat of winter wolves and the Hunter's followers and it is perhaps more of a wonder that the staff who man the Beacon all year remain.
The dark worshippers do their best to steal past the Beacon, heading to a labyrinth of caves on the eastern edge of the lake. Here, they take the path to the lowest caves, where the air is frigid and the water freezing. Long icicles hang from the roof, animal corpses are set within blocks of ice and frozen as offerings to the demon in the lake. Even her acolytes do not know her name, though she associated with a bewildering number of the Shadow Pantheon. The purpose of the long pilgrimage is two fold, many make the journey to offer prayers or sacrifices, others to enter the waters and bind themselves to the demon in a far more intimate fashion. It is an uncomfortable fact that over half the souls that go to create the ice warriors are volunteers.
The leader of the cave community is a hermit, who has dwelt on the shores of the lake for so long he has forgotten his own name, answering only to 'Macka'. His chief function is to prepare the sacrifices for their descent into the watery depth of Lake Ajaya, binding them so they cannot change their minds and guiding them into a trance so that fear will not overwhelm them as they sink below the surface. Under his tutelage the sacrifices cut a hole in the ice and descend, letting the ice freeze over their heads. If asked what happens next he grunts and mutters something about the demon ripping the supplicants' souls free of their flesh, binding them with unseen chains.
Despite their best efforts the staff at the Beacon have been unable to find the caves the dark worshippers operate out of, whenever they get close something intervenes to turn them away. Macka claims that it is the demon in the lake but the pilgrims are not sure. Much as they would like to believe him, most of them do not believe she cares if they live or die. Nevertheless for the moment the community prospers, and without doubt something watches over them, for good or for ill.
Next time: We head east to the Witch Tribes' lands, to uncover their secrets.
Sunday, 23 November 2014
Darkness in the Crags
The mountains are home to many things, including the worship of dark gods. Though rare, it cannot be denied that the shadow of dark worship lies in pockets throughout the Red Veins. A lot is discrete, set apart from the towns and villages, secluded in caves and on crags between Giant camps, but not all. Within village lodges and town smithies, elements of the darkness can be found and even the best of intentions can be perverted to dark matters.
Hunters - Giants as the ultimate prize
The first case is the Vigilant Hunters Lodge, operating out of Ruda Gorod though they have small lodges and safe houses throughout the mountains. A hunters camp founded by Sven Lars Son, the Vigilants are dedicated to hunting the most dangerous prey in the mountains, from Giants to Cave Shadows and Sabre Cats. Unbeknownst to the people around them the Lodge is divided into two ranks. The lower ranks are simple hunters, trained in bow, spear and the other tricks of the hunt. The higher echelons of the group are rather different however. To enter their ranks is to take on a different calling, and embrace the Hunter. Only very specific members of the lower ranks are invited to apply for the higher tier; Sven is wary and with good reason. He was driven out by his family when his own inclination to dark worship was discovered and he is determined that nobody should know what the true purpose of the Vigilants is.
When a likely candidate presents themselves they are tested, often harshly. A ritual hunt is undertaken and the heart blood of the slain creature drunk by the initiate to test if they are the right material and to find their 'soul animal', usually a predator, something that Sven has made up as a way to ease the path into the Hunter's service for the unwary. They are tutored intensely and brought in on more and more dangerous hunts, where they are given important roles and praised for their assistance. Often the 'soul animal' is invoked as a reason for hunting, and at first there is a sense of nature to the proceedings. A wolf spirited person will be called on to hunt deer and so on. As time goes on this slips, a death is a death after all and the letting of blood and taking of life is the important part of the Hunter's worship.
The most sacred part of the Vigilant's activities are their Full Moon Hunts, which take place at night and involve either hunting humans or giants. Only the most trusted members of the Lodge are invited to partake and spend the night tracking and slaying for the sheer enjoyment of killing. To make things worse, the slain beings are ritually consumed by the hunters, to funnel their power into the hunter or into the Hunter.
At present nobody suspects the Lodge's participation in these practices; after all their public face is kind, caring and thoughtful. They act as guides for travellers and as defenders when trouble comes. This public face is part of Sven's strategy for ensuring the Lodge's survival, knowing that if the truth comes out most of the locals will turn against them. This is also informs the part of his strategy, to recruit as many locals as he can.
The Dark Makers by contrast keep themselves apart, dwelling in caves under the mountains to work their arts. Smiths and miners, they create weapons and armour, trying to make the most effective offense and defence for the wielder. The only difference is that they do so in a fashion that funnels dark power, using gifts that Baluz and Maradan, the shadow of Korvin, have taught them. This makes weapons more effective at killing, often without regard to the life of the wielder, and makes armour that is tough but demands a price. It is not uncommon for it to be 'consecrated' and bound to the wearer, making the two one. Sometimes this link grows over time, making the suit literally part of the wearer, though this is mercifully rare. They use the mountains as a place to make these twisted weapons because of the Giants. Their blood carries the magic of the pacts that made them, which the Makers unleash through their dark magics, making their creations tougher and more durable. The Makers pay handsomely for blood to quench their wares in.
The Makers have little organisation, they are largely formed of mavericks and crackpots, all seeking answers in a way that had them driven from society and their crafts and to the mountains in desperation. It is not publicly known that the Makers exist but most smiths and artisans know of someone, who knew someone whose master or apprentice's friend's cousin fled to join them. The idea of the dark forge is enshrined in the lore surrounding the working of steel, usually under the command; ''don't do this'. Their 'leader' is a woman, Elena Black Hand, whose name comes from the black gauntlet she has grafted onto her left hand. A testimony to her work, the gauntlet allows her to grip near molten metal without feeling pain.
Lastly the Cloud Shadow tribe of Giants are significant because of their own heretical ways. Dwelling in the lair of a dead dragon, the Cloud Shadow they take their name from, the tribe is ruled by their Queen and her lover, a shaman. Together they have guided the tribe in a new direction, one spurred by the discovery of a small statue at the back of the caves they call home. The image is crude but is also undeniably that of Baluz, the dark God of war and sadism. Something about it spurred them to worship it and at the Queen's command the tribe has converted to the faith. Driven on by the dreams she receives from the tribe's new patron, the Queen has started to direct a campaign against those that would harm the tribe, including the Vigilant Hunting Lodge. They have launched attacks against the neighbouring tribes, demanded martial contests from anyone who crosses their land and taken more prisoners in the past few months than in the entire decade before hand. They have even headed east to battle the Witch Tribes and out onto the frozen plain north of the mountains seeking out enemies.
Their prisoners meet a grizzly death, used as a novel way to mark borders and on the altar in front of the statue. The idea that the humans be made to fight each other is one that is slowly forming in the Queen's head, as is the idea of having her daughter battle the humans as a sign that she is as devoted as her mother. The ulterior motive, getting rid of her daughter and drinking her life essence to preserve her own is something that only rarely rises in the Queen's mind, but she and her lover are slowly preparing for the eventuality. There is nothing very novel about the way the worship of Baluz has been carried out, he is a conservative god and despite everything, rather unimaginative.
The human towns and villages have been slow to react to the Cloud Shadow's rampage, mostly because whilst they are used to Giant attacks, they have seldom been so fierce or coordinated. Used to Giants using captives as food the casual brutality the tribe exudes has also shocked them. The fact that the attacks came in winter has not helped, and whilst they scramble to mount fresh defences and build up their stocks the Cloud Shadows take full advantage. Their only advantage is that the Giant offence is not truly focused, they are fighting both humans and other Giants.
Next time: North of the Mountains
Hunters - Giants as the ultimate prize
The first case is the Vigilant Hunters Lodge, operating out of Ruda Gorod though they have small lodges and safe houses throughout the mountains. A hunters camp founded by Sven Lars Son, the Vigilants are dedicated to hunting the most dangerous prey in the mountains, from Giants to Cave Shadows and Sabre Cats. Unbeknownst to the people around them the Lodge is divided into two ranks. The lower ranks are simple hunters, trained in bow, spear and the other tricks of the hunt. The higher echelons of the group are rather different however. To enter their ranks is to take on a different calling, and embrace the Hunter. Only very specific members of the lower ranks are invited to apply for the higher tier; Sven is wary and with good reason. He was driven out by his family when his own inclination to dark worship was discovered and he is determined that nobody should know what the true purpose of the Vigilants is.
When a likely candidate presents themselves they are tested, often harshly. A ritual hunt is undertaken and the heart blood of the slain creature drunk by the initiate to test if they are the right material and to find their 'soul animal', usually a predator, something that Sven has made up as a way to ease the path into the Hunter's service for the unwary. They are tutored intensely and brought in on more and more dangerous hunts, where they are given important roles and praised for their assistance. Often the 'soul animal' is invoked as a reason for hunting, and at first there is a sense of nature to the proceedings. A wolf spirited person will be called on to hunt deer and so on. As time goes on this slips, a death is a death after all and the letting of blood and taking of life is the important part of the Hunter's worship.
The most sacred part of the Vigilant's activities are their Full Moon Hunts, which take place at night and involve either hunting humans or giants. Only the most trusted members of the Lodge are invited to partake and spend the night tracking and slaying for the sheer enjoyment of killing. To make things worse, the slain beings are ritually consumed by the hunters, to funnel their power into the hunter or into the Hunter.
At present nobody suspects the Lodge's participation in these practices; after all their public face is kind, caring and thoughtful. They act as guides for travellers and as defenders when trouble comes. This public face is part of Sven's strategy for ensuring the Lodge's survival, knowing that if the truth comes out most of the locals will turn against them. This is also informs the part of his strategy, to recruit as many locals as he can.
The Dark Makers by contrast keep themselves apart, dwelling in caves under the mountains to work their arts. Smiths and miners, they create weapons and armour, trying to make the most effective offense and defence for the wielder. The only difference is that they do so in a fashion that funnels dark power, using gifts that Baluz and Maradan, the shadow of Korvin, have taught them. This makes weapons more effective at killing, often without regard to the life of the wielder, and makes armour that is tough but demands a price. It is not uncommon for it to be 'consecrated' and bound to the wearer, making the two one. Sometimes this link grows over time, making the suit literally part of the wearer, though this is mercifully rare. They use the mountains as a place to make these twisted weapons because of the Giants. Their blood carries the magic of the pacts that made them, which the Makers unleash through their dark magics, making their creations tougher and more durable. The Makers pay handsomely for blood to quench their wares in.
The Makers have little organisation, they are largely formed of mavericks and crackpots, all seeking answers in a way that had them driven from society and their crafts and to the mountains in desperation. It is not publicly known that the Makers exist but most smiths and artisans know of someone, who knew someone whose master or apprentice's friend's cousin fled to join them. The idea of the dark forge is enshrined in the lore surrounding the working of steel, usually under the command; ''don't do this'. Their 'leader' is a woman, Elena Black Hand, whose name comes from the black gauntlet she has grafted onto her left hand. A testimony to her work, the gauntlet allows her to grip near molten metal without feeling pain.
Lastly the Cloud Shadow tribe of Giants are significant because of their own heretical ways. Dwelling in the lair of a dead dragon, the Cloud Shadow they take their name from, the tribe is ruled by their Queen and her lover, a shaman. Together they have guided the tribe in a new direction, one spurred by the discovery of a small statue at the back of the caves they call home. The image is crude but is also undeniably that of Baluz, the dark God of war and sadism. Something about it spurred them to worship it and at the Queen's command the tribe has converted to the faith. Driven on by the dreams she receives from the tribe's new patron, the Queen has started to direct a campaign against those that would harm the tribe, including the Vigilant Hunting Lodge. They have launched attacks against the neighbouring tribes, demanded martial contests from anyone who crosses their land and taken more prisoners in the past few months than in the entire decade before hand. They have even headed east to battle the Witch Tribes and out onto the frozen plain north of the mountains seeking out enemies.
Their prisoners meet a grizzly death, used as a novel way to mark borders and on the altar in front of the statue. The idea that the humans be made to fight each other is one that is slowly forming in the Queen's head, as is the idea of having her daughter battle the humans as a sign that she is as devoted as her mother. The ulterior motive, getting rid of her daughter and drinking her life essence to preserve her own is something that only rarely rises in the Queen's mind, but she and her lover are slowly preparing for the eventuality. There is nothing very novel about the way the worship of Baluz has been carried out, he is a conservative god and despite everything, rather unimaginative.
The human towns and villages have been slow to react to the Cloud Shadow's rampage, mostly because whilst they are used to Giant attacks, they have seldom been so fierce or coordinated. Used to Giants using captives as food the casual brutality the tribe exudes has also shocked them. The fact that the attacks came in winter has not helped, and whilst they scramble to mount fresh defences and build up their stocks the Cloud Shadows take full advantage. Their only advantage is that the Giant offence is not truly focused, they are fighting both humans and other Giants.
Next time: North of the Mountains
Saturday, 15 November 2014
Born of War, the Children of Mountains
The Giants are the oldest of the pact makers. They forged their deal with the spirits of the mountains in the days after the Eclipse War, when the world was young and the thunder of those battles had only just faded. These were the days when the dragons discovered man and they resented the new race. For their part men resented the power the dragons wielded over the world. A new war broke out, the Dragon War, one where the Gods were distant, where dragons and men warred for control of the land.
The precise of details of the pact have long been lost, so gathering scholastic information about it is hard. The Giants have legends certainly, but parlaying with them to get an idea of what they believe is tricky, as enough of them consider men to be a tasty snack that would-be gatherers of their lore usually hire mercenaries for protection. Only one, Professor Griselda Angeladottir of the Jorvin Empire's Schweinestadt University, has managed to gather enough information to create a hypothesis.
Her theory is that in the days of the Dragon War the mountain peoples were particularly hard hit. The dragons claimed the mountains as their primary territory and the mining communities, vital to the development of weaponry, were ravaged by their attacks. In the face of this constant war and the terror it brought. the communities in the mountains saw their young men fall. Too many mothers buried their sons, too many sisters burned their brothers' bodies. A generation of warriors fell to teeth, claws and fire.
Angeladottir believes that eventually an inciting event occurred, an attack so terrible the towns united in the face of the dragons, but that even this failed. In desperation they turned to different methods, recruiting the men who had not been warriors to fight. This path would lead them to many different places, to the sorcerer Marius, to the spirit of Grandfather Stone Face. Whilst it is unclear how it happened, it is certain that the final ritual took place at the peak of the Red Veins' highest mountain. The bargain was struck and the remaining warriors took on the strength of the mountains, growing in size, though they did not achieve anything like the height they enjoy today. Their skins grew rougher, they became tougher, more able to shrug off the dragons' fire.
The dragons that dwelt in the Red Veins were dispatched, their names forgotten except as the names of Giant tribes (which were only ever the names they let humans know), their treasures scattered throughout the world, their lairs claimed. The new race suffered heavy losses during the battles but emerged, bloody and victorious. They were taller and stronger, and the gifts of the mountains grew with time.
Almost immediately new problems arose; the Professor points to a number of folk tales concerning clumsy and/or malicious Giants to show this. One area she has identified was that there were no women for the young warriors to take as brides. Women who had welcomed the idea of the Giants when their lives and homes were in danger had no wish to be married to one. The men were also unable to fit back in, struggling with the tools they had once been so adept with. They became seen as brutish and crude, and gossip began to spread about them. Perhaps it was inevitable that sooner or later this would take a turn for the worst.
Angeladottir's treatise points to a fire that occurred at an Autumn dance in one of the villages, Snegpik. Here, the Giants effectively declared war on their own people by setting fire to the hall where the villagers had gathered and letting it burn. In the following days this group of Giants razed the village and established their own camp, replacing too small buildings with tents of hide that could accommodate them. Word spread and other villages began to have similar problems. The Giants broke away. The most peaceful of the interactions is recorded in Ruda Gorod's lore, where they simply vanished over night.
For the most part the villagers say their ancestors breathed a sigh of relief, glad to see the back of the shambling creatures they had helped to create. The Giants speak of raids and battles as a new war shaped in the mountains for control of ore and mines, one that initially drove them back to the dragon lairs. They took the names of the dragons they had slain and began to fight back, determined to have women and animals, and secure their future. They built forges to their own size in the lairs, hunted the larger creatures to give themselves leather and made clubs out of dragon bones. One early leader is recorded as using a dragon skull as a shield, impaling foes upon its horns. The mountains descended into a long, bloody war. The villagers suffered from the power the Giants wielded and soon had to find new ways to fight them. They sent word to Marius for aid, but none came, their messengers never returned. The alliance that had been forged to fight the dragons splintered as chaos reigned. Whilst the Giants did not present the same threat the dragons did, they were still feared and because they had other motives, all too human motives, they struck fear into the hearts of men in a very different fashion. The dragons had simply been using their might to assert control of what they believed to be theirs; the Giants' grudges were personal.
Attempts to breed with human women proved fruitless, the Giants whilst not above rape, found that their seed took no hold in the women's wombs. If a pregnancy occurred it was short, there were no children and the miscarriage often killed the pregnant woman. In desperation they headed back to the mountain.
It is here that another figure enters the history, one that is reviled by one side and celebrated by the other. A woman, Alina, one of the prized daughters of the Mayor of Ruda Gorod, made her way into the mountains. She was looking for her sister, Dina, who had been stolen by the giants in the spring. According to the villagers she was captured and taken to Grandfather Stone Face, though the Giants insist she followed them up the mountain. Whichever version is true she introduced something that changed the situation fundamentally: she became the first woman to become a Giant. Whether she was forced or willingly took the burden is unknown and both humans and Giants would say that it does not matter. In becoming a Giant she saved the race, and it is said that all the Giants born since are descended from her.
The second pact also strengthened the Giants' links to the mountains. They became one with the stone, developing a sympathetic link to it. From Professor Griselda's notes there is an element that feels pain when mining is undertaken, which would explain why the Giants hate the mining so much. There are also suggestions here that the pact made the new race taller and stronger, compounding the process they had already gone through, but at the cost of their minds and their skills. The early forges they had built in the dragon lairs fell into disuse, apparently because the ways of forging became forgotten.
The pact had another downside; it bound the Giants to the mountains, making it difficult for them to leave unless they carried part of the mountains with them. Those that tried fell sick and eventually died, and as they grew older the process happened faster and faster, until the oldest of the Giants simply fell to pieces a mile from the Red Veins.
Alina became the first Queen of the Giants, forging a nation and claiming Grandfather Stone Face as her own. Owing to the longevity the Giants possessed she lived for over a century, taking lovers among the males she liked and controlling her children with an iron hand. Perhaps it was inevitable that when she died the nation would fall apart and rents soon appeared, as the Giants devolved back into camps and feuding tribes, albeit ones ruled by female because they are smarter than the males. The old lairs had never been abandoned and they became the focus for many of the tribes, just as particular mountains became the focus for others. The old names, the ones they had stolen from the dragons, came back into use. Attacks on human villages soon began anew, though now people were not carried off as potential mates but as food or as slaves to undertake 'small work', the kind of things that require skills the Giants have lost. The slaves made weapons and armour, jewellery and even clothing, as even with immense needles their captors could not understand the ways of sewing or weaving.
One tribe, the Black Fire tribe, even went so far as to enslave an entire village, surrounding it and starving the humans until they begged to serve them. The Black Fire leader went on to become the second leader of the Giant's nation, though on his death they again fell back to tribes and this proved to be last time that unification was possible. Subsequent efforts have either been defeated or short lived. In revenge the villagers eventually poisoned their overlords, sending them fleeing back to their stronghold.
For a long time the relationship between the Giants and humans continued in this pattern, and it was really only the arrival of the Six that changed it. As money for ore and stone flowed into the communities along with mercenaries and other soldiers, the situation began to change. In return for iron, the Six authorised Giant hunting expeditions, determined to drive them back enough to access mines and start to re-establish the mining industry in a proper way. This involved a number of new ideas, including the use of ropes strung with bells that Giants would trip as they approached mines and hidden pits that would slow them down. Blasting powder from the East has been used for this purpose, and as a distraction, on the advice of Professor Angeladottir. The centuries have seen a more equal balance of power emerge in the mountains, but it has taken time for this to have an effect and the gains the villagers make are constantly tested. The Giants hate the fact that they are being constrained, even if they struggle to understand how it is being done.
Within the last decade it is believed that a Giant chief, named Alina after her many times removed Grandmother, undertook a new pact at the peak of Grandfather Stone Face. She asked to be able to understand what the small folk were doing and this was granted, but a terrible price, one that left her unable to leave the mountain. She has tried to impart the knowledge to her followers but to no avail. They simply do not understand what she says. The only thing this new Alina has managed to impart is the need for unity; leading to a fresh round of tribal wars as each chief tries to stamp her authority over all the others.
For the moment it looks as if there is a stalemate in the Red Vein Mountains; mining will continue as will Giant attacks. Sharoban will continue to support the villages and towns, if only because they need stone and metal. For their part the Giants are incapable of doing anything to leave the mountains for any length of time and Sharoban seems to be the extent of their range. The city has been attacked in the past, usually by small groups of warriors who have followed caravans back to Sharoban's gates.
Next time: Step back into the dark as we consider the Red Veins and the dark gods.
The precise of details of the pact have long been lost, so gathering scholastic information about it is hard. The Giants have legends certainly, but parlaying with them to get an idea of what they believe is tricky, as enough of them consider men to be a tasty snack that would-be gatherers of their lore usually hire mercenaries for protection. Only one, Professor Griselda Angeladottir of the Jorvin Empire's Schweinestadt University, has managed to gather enough information to create a hypothesis.
Her theory is that in the days of the Dragon War the mountain peoples were particularly hard hit. The dragons claimed the mountains as their primary territory and the mining communities, vital to the development of weaponry, were ravaged by their attacks. In the face of this constant war and the terror it brought. the communities in the mountains saw their young men fall. Too many mothers buried their sons, too many sisters burned their brothers' bodies. A generation of warriors fell to teeth, claws and fire.
Angeladottir believes that eventually an inciting event occurred, an attack so terrible the towns united in the face of the dragons, but that even this failed. In desperation they turned to different methods, recruiting the men who had not been warriors to fight. This path would lead them to many different places, to the sorcerer Marius, to the spirit of Grandfather Stone Face. Whilst it is unclear how it happened, it is certain that the final ritual took place at the peak of the Red Veins' highest mountain. The bargain was struck and the remaining warriors took on the strength of the mountains, growing in size, though they did not achieve anything like the height they enjoy today. Their skins grew rougher, they became tougher, more able to shrug off the dragons' fire.
The dragons that dwelt in the Red Veins were dispatched, their names forgotten except as the names of Giant tribes (which were only ever the names they let humans know), their treasures scattered throughout the world, their lairs claimed. The new race suffered heavy losses during the battles but emerged, bloody and victorious. They were taller and stronger, and the gifts of the mountains grew with time.
Almost immediately new problems arose; the Professor points to a number of folk tales concerning clumsy and/or malicious Giants to show this. One area she has identified was that there were no women for the young warriors to take as brides. Women who had welcomed the idea of the Giants when their lives and homes were in danger had no wish to be married to one. The men were also unable to fit back in, struggling with the tools they had once been so adept with. They became seen as brutish and crude, and gossip began to spread about them. Perhaps it was inevitable that sooner or later this would take a turn for the worst.
Angeladottir's treatise points to a fire that occurred at an Autumn dance in one of the villages, Snegpik. Here, the Giants effectively declared war on their own people by setting fire to the hall where the villagers had gathered and letting it burn. In the following days this group of Giants razed the village and established their own camp, replacing too small buildings with tents of hide that could accommodate them. Word spread and other villages began to have similar problems. The Giants broke away. The most peaceful of the interactions is recorded in Ruda Gorod's lore, where they simply vanished over night.
For the most part the villagers say their ancestors breathed a sigh of relief, glad to see the back of the shambling creatures they had helped to create. The Giants speak of raids and battles as a new war shaped in the mountains for control of ore and mines, one that initially drove them back to the dragon lairs. They took the names of the dragons they had slain and began to fight back, determined to have women and animals, and secure their future. They built forges to their own size in the lairs, hunted the larger creatures to give themselves leather and made clubs out of dragon bones. One early leader is recorded as using a dragon skull as a shield, impaling foes upon its horns. The mountains descended into a long, bloody war. The villagers suffered from the power the Giants wielded and soon had to find new ways to fight them. They sent word to Marius for aid, but none came, their messengers never returned. The alliance that had been forged to fight the dragons splintered as chaos reigned. Whilst the Giants did not present the same threat the dragons did, they were still feared and because they had other motives, all too human motives, they struck fear into the hearts of men in a very different fashion. The dragons had simply been using their might to assert control of what they believed to be theirs; the Giants' grudges were personal.
Attempts to breed with human women proved fruitless, the Giants whilst not above rape, found that their seed took no hold in the women's wombs. If a pregnancy occurred it was short, there were no children and the miscarriage often killed the pregnant woman. In desperation they headed back to the mountain.
It is here that another figure enters the history, one that is reviled by one side and celebrated by the other. A woman, Alina, one of the prized daughters of the Mayor of Ruda Gorod, made her way into the mountains. She was looking for her sister, Dina, who had been stolen by the giants in the spring. According to the villagers she was captured and taken to Grandfather Stone Face, though the Giants insist she followed them up the mountain. Whichever version is true she introduced something that changed the situation fundamentally: she became the first woman to become a Giant. Whether she was forced or willingly took the burden is unknown and both humans and Giants would say that it does not matter. In becoming a Giant she saved the race, and it is said that all the Giants born since are descended from her.
The second pact also strengthened the Giants' links to the mountains. They became one with the stone, developing a sympathetic link to it. From Professor Griselda's notes there is an element that feels pain when mining is undertaken, which would explain why the Giants hate the mining so much. There are also suggestions here that the pact made the new race taller and stronger, compounding the process they had already gone through, but at the cost of their minds and their skills. The early forges they had built in the dragon lairs fell into disuse, apparently because the ways of forging became forgotten.
The pact had another downside; it bound the Giants to the mountains, making it difficult for them to leave unless they carried part of the mountains with them. Those that tried fell sick and eventually died, and as they grew older the process happened faster and faster, until the oldest of the Giants simply fell to pieces a mile from the Red Veins.
Alina became the first Queen of the Giants, forging a nation and claiming Grandfather Stone Face as her own. Owing to the longevity the Giants possessed she lived for over a century, taking lovers among the males she liked and controlling her children with an iron hand. Perhaps it was inevitable that when she died the nation would fall apart and rents soon appeared, as the Giants devolved back into camps and feuding tribes, albeit ones ruled by female because they are smarter than the males. The old lairs had never been abandoned and they became the focus for many of the tribes, just as particular mountains became the focus for others. The old names, the ones they had stolen from the dragons, came back into use. Attacks on human villages soon began anew, though now people were not carried off as potential mates but as food or as slaves to undertake 'small work', the kind of things that require skills the Giants have lost. The slaves made weapons and armour, jewellery and even clothing, as even with immense needles their captors could not understand the ways of sewing or weaving.
One tribe, the Black Fire tribe, even went so far as to enslave an entire village, surrounding it and starving the humans until they begged to serve them. The Black Fire leader went on to become the second leader of the Giant's nation, though on his death they again fell back to tribes and this proved to be last time that unification was possible. Subsequent efforts have either been defeated or short lived. In revenge the villagers eventually poisoned their overlords, sending them fleeing back to their stronghold.
For a long time the relationship between the Giants and humans continued in this pattern, and it was really only the arrival of the Six that changed it. As money for ore and stone flowed into the communities along with mercenaries and other soldiers, the situation began to change. In return for iron, the Six authorised Giant hunting expeditions, determined to drive them back enough to access mines and start to re-establish the mining industry in a proper way. This involved a number of new ideas, including the use of ropes strung with bells that Giants would trip as they approached mines and hidden pits that would slow them down. Blasting powder from the East has been used for this purpose, and as a distraction, on the advice of Professor Angeladottir. The centuries have seen a more equal balance of power emerge in the mountains, but it has taken time for this to have an effect and the gains the villagers make are constantly tested. The Giants hate the fact that they are being constrained, even if they struggle to understand how it is being done.
Within the last decade it is believed that a Giant chief, named Alina after her many times removed Grandmother, undertook a new pact at the peak of Grandfather Stone Face. She asked to be able to understand what the small folk were doing and this was granted, but a terrible price, one that left her unable to leave the mountain. She has tried to impart the knowledge to her followers but to no avail. They simply do not understand what she says. The only thing this new Alina has managed to impart is the need for unity; leading to a fresh round of tribal wars as each chief tries to stamp her authority over all the others.
For the moment it looks as if there is a stalemate in the Red Vein Mountains; mining will continue as will Giant attacks. Sharoban will continue to support the villages and towns, if only because they need stone and metal. For their part the Giants are incapable of doing anything to leave the mountains for any length of time and Sharoban seems to be the extent of their range. The city has been attacked in the past, usually by small groups of warriors who have followed caravans back to Sharoban's gates.
Next time: Step back into the dark as we consider the Red Veins and the dark gods.
Friday, 7 November 2014
The Mountains
The western most tip of the Red Vein Mountains lies two hundred miles from Sharoban. They run east to west and measure 2000 miles in length and 100 in width. The tallest peak, Grandfather Stone Face, rises a good seven miles at its highest point and only slightly shorter at its 'shoulders'. The mountain has particularly significance for the locals, serving as a navigation point as well as having a mystical significance, which has led a group of wizards from the Jorvin Empire to come out to study the mountain's energy. No mining or foraging takes place upon its flanks, and the paths up it are approached only with caution. The weather is tempestuous around the peak and it has a reputation for wild creatures. Wolves and bears are said to inhabit the slopes.
And then there are the giants.
The mountains are home to a number of tribes of the creatures, each of which clings to a territory, usually around a particular peak. Grandfather Stone Face, however, is divided between a number of tribes, each of which controls a section of the mountain. This arrangement came about because of a bloody civil war fifty years ago, where a struggle for control of the tribe that controlled the mountain led to it shattering into a number of smaller, mutually hostile, tribes. They share the mountain, frequently war against each other and make life difficult for anyone who wishes to climb the peak. The summit is particularly fought over: a tall standing stone on the top is held to be sacred by the giants and is believed to be the site of the pact that created them in the first place. A group of elders actually tend the stone and keep out of the way when trouble starts, as their days as warriors are over.
War is the natural state of the Giant tribes, against each other, against the towns throughout the mountains, and against the monsters that also call the Red Veins home. They are extremely territorial and violence is to be expected when entering their lands, especially if you go close to their shrines, which are always central to their domains. In turn, the borders of different domains are marked by large cairns or other markers. Ignorance is no excuse, and even the most bitter of the humans dwelling close to the mountains does not fault the Giants for their way of marking their territory and will warn against taking them lightly.
These things are just facts of living in the mountains.
The chief industries within the Red Veins are mining, stone quarrying and trapping, with a small amount of forestry and furs , though the trees that grow in the mountains are only slightly stronger than the ones that grow out on the steppes. They are sufficient to construct basic buildings and stockades, and these form the basis of the towns that cling to the edges of the mountain range. Few grow larger than hamlets and villages, though the town closest to Sharoban, Istoynt has begun to construct stone walls and a keep, in part because of the money it has earned trading iron ore with the city, and in part because there are enough people flocking there that the mayor, Bolaslav Blackhead, fears that the number of citizens in the town will attract the attention of the Giants or worse.
There are a variety of mines in the mountains, though tunneling is seen as slightly safer than open cast mining. The latter tends to attract the attention of Giants if carried on too long, and stone quarrying carries similar dangers. Adventurers and mercenaries are welcome here as the mine and quarry owners are always looking for sentries and guards to protect their workers. The pay is not particularly high; most owners prefer to pay in board and lodging with bonuses for Giants slain. Mines within the mountains attract less attention, whilst the Giants do not like their mountains being cut into for reasons that the miners do not understand, they can do little to stop it,. Iron is the most common product of the mines, but there are other veins too, notably silver and tin. Sapphires and rubies are frequently found too, though their quality is usually poor and only attract middling prices. Higher quality gems are usually sent west to the Empire, in the hopes of getting more money.
Mining is a dirty, unpleasant industry. The mines are small and cramped. Many of the miners are children or teenagers, who go on to to operate the smelters and forges when they become too big to work the mines. The profession is open to both men and women, with the latter particularly valued for their ability to find their way into small spaces. Most mines are considered to be haunted, owing to the number of deaths that inevitably occur within them. Small rituals are enacted to appease the ghosts, usually taking the form of small food offerings and salt. Most mines have a small statue of an androgynous figure by the entrance where the offerings are left.
Iron is blessed as it leaves the mines, to make it ready for the road and to protect it from Giants, who often raid the ore stocks and carry off the mountain bounty. More practically, this is another job that mercenaries undertake in the mountains, and they are always in demand, partly because there is a high chance of death.
The people of the mountains are a mixed bunch. Some of them are slight and dark and are believed to the descendants of the original settlers, who made the pact. Other groups have moved in since, from nomads who have settled to people from the western kingdoms and even a few runaways from the Witch Tribes in the eastern parts of the mountains. There is a great deal of intermarriage and families are composed of many peoples. Whilst it is frowned upon by outsiders multi-parent families are not uncommon, though they usually arise from deaths in the family. There is an expectation that widows and widowers will be supported by the rest of the family and the larger community. Marriage is seen as a public commitment rather than necessarily a matter of love or even lust. This being said, it is not that uncommon for sexual relations to occur between a widow or widower and the spouses they marry after their primary partner has died.
The mountains are noted for their smoked meat, goat's cheese and fish which are seen as delicacies elsewhere, but the locals smoke food simply to preserve it. They also drink goats milk, which they ferment with berries to create a strange, sickly liquor.
Besides Istoynt, notable towns are Ruda Gorod, a prosperous mining that has successfully negotiated a peace with the local Giants, though the price has been high. Krazny Mill sits beside a waterfall and smelts the ore its mines provides. Important landmarks at the western end of the mountains include Utyug Ozero, a lake with red water, and the Charodei Rok, believed to be the historic home of an enchanter, Marius. A mysterious figure there are many stories that concern him, including some that name him as the father of magic and the creator of the pact with the mountain spirits that created the Giants during the Dragon War.
Next time: Giants, lots and lots of Giants!
And then there are the giants.
The mountains are home to a number of tribes of the creatures, each of which clings to a territory, usually around a particular peak. Grandfather Stone Face, however, is divided between a number of tribes, each of which controls a section of the mountain. This arrangement came about because of a bloody civil war fifty years ago, where a struggle for control of the tribe that controlled the mountain led to it shattering into a number of smaller, mutually hostile, tribes. They share the mountain, frequently war against each other and make life difficult for anyone who wishes to climb the peak. The summit is particularly fought over: a tall standing stone on the top is held to be sacred by the giants and is believed to be the site of the pact that created them in the first place. A group of elders actually tend the stone and keep out of the way when trouble starts, as their days as warriors are over.
War is the natural state of the Giant tribes, against each other, against the towns throughout the mountains, and against the monsters that also call the Red Veins home. They are extremely territorial and violence is to be expected when entering their lands, especially if you go close to their shrines, which are always central to their domains. In turn, the borders of different domains are marked by large cairns or other markers. Ignorance is no excuse, and even the most bitter of the humans dwelling close to the mountains does not fault the Giants for their way of marking their territory and will warn against taking them lightly.
These things are just facts of living in the mountains.
The chief industries within the Red Veins are mining, stone quarrying and trapping, with a small amount of forestry and furs , though the trees that grow in the mountains are only slightly stronger than the ones that grow out on the steppes. They are sufficient to construct basic buildings and stockades, and these form the basis of the towns that cling to the edges of the mountain range. Few grow larger than hamlets and villages, though the town closest to Sharoban, Istoynt has begun to construct stone walls and a keep, in part because of the money it has earned trading iron ore with the city, and in part because there are enough people flocking there that the mayor, Bolaslav Blackhead, fears that the number of citizens in the town will attract the attention of the Giants or worse.
There are a variety of mines in the mountains, though tunneling is seen as slightly safer than open cast mining. The latter tends to attract the attention of Giants if carried on too long, and stone quarrying carries similar dangers. Adventurers and mercenaries are welcome here as the mine and quarry owners are always looking for sentries and guards to protect their workers. The pay is not particularly high; most owners prefer to pay in board and lodging with bonuses for Giants slain. Mines within the mountains attract less attention, whilst the Giants do not like their mountains being cut into for reasons that the miners do not understand, they can do little to stop it,. Iron is the most common product of the mines, but there are other veins too, notably silver and tin. Sapphires and rubies are frequently found too, though their quality is usually poor and only attract middling prices. Higher quality gems are usually sent west to the Empire, in the hopes of getting more money.
Mining is a dirty, unpleasant industry. The mines are small and cramped. Many of the miners are children or teenagers, who go on to to operate the smelters and forges when they become too big to work the mines. The profession is open to both men and women, with the latter particularly valued for their ability to find their way into small spaces. Most mines are considered to be haunted, owing to the number of deaths that inevitably occur within them. Small rituals are enacted to appease the ghosts, usually taking the form of small food offerings and salt. Most mines have a small statue of an androgynous figure by the entrance where the offerings are left.
Iron is blessed as it leaves the mines, to make it ready for the road and to protect it from Giants, who often raid the ore stocks and carry off the mountain bounty. More practically, this is another job that mercenaries undertake in the mountains, and they are always in demand, partly because there is a high chance of death.
The people of the mountains are a mixed bunch. Some of them are slight and dark and are believed to the descendants of the original settlers, who made the pact. Other groups have moved in since, from nomads who have settled to people from the western kingdoms and even a few runaways from the Witch Tribes in the eastern parts of the mountains. There is a great deal of intermarriage and families are composed of many peoples. Whilst it is frowned upon by outsiders multi-parent families are not uncommon, though they usually arise from deaths in the family. There is an expectation that widows and widowers will be supported by the rest of the family and the larger community. Marriage is seen as a public commitment rather than necessarily a matter of love or even lust. This being said, it is not that uncommon for sexual relations to occur between a widow or widower and the spouses they marry after their primary partner has died.
The mountains are noted for their smoked meat, goat's cheese and fish which are seen as delicacies elsewhere, but the locals smoke food simply to preserve it. They also drink goats milk, which they ferment with berries to create a strange, sickly liquor.
Besides Istoynt, notable towns are Ruda Gorod, a prosperous mining that has successfully negotiated a peace with the local Giants, though the price has been high. Krazny Mill sits beside a waterfall and smelts the ore its mines provides. Important landmarks at the western end of the mountains include Utyug Ozero, a lake with red water, and the Charodei Rok, believed to be the historic home of an enchanter, Marius. A mysterious figure there are many stories that concern him, including some that name him as the father of magic and the creator of the pact with the mountain spirits that created the Giants during the Dragon War.
Next time: Giants, lots and lots of Giants!
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