Sinverland guards the north-west territory of Emperiat, held between the mountains and the unconquered West, just far enough south from icy Galhma to keep the Winters reasonable. It's a semi-forestal, semi-mountainous land marked by very mild heat and very snowy cold.

Note: While the Sinver live directly south of Galhma, a foreboding chain of the infamous mountains divided the two peoples, allowing them to develop separately and form disparate cultures.

Art, music and finery are the trades of the Sinver. Bright paintings and marble sculptures dance across the streets of Sinverland. The old knightly orders have long-since traded out war-ready armor for decorative bejeweled shields, and their swords have been engraved with gold. The craftsmen learn to carve intricate rings before they learn to forge horseshoes. The wealthy and royal across Torivian have taken to hiring Sinver bards to entertain their courts.

Little of what Sinverland provides is "necessary," per se, but the Sinver would argue that the world would be all the lesser without it. It is a land in a renaissance born from excess.

(That said, they do have some very strong trade routes set up to maintain all this wealth, backed by a trove of natural resources to pay for it, and the empire certainly would feel their absence.)

Current Sinverland is known for it's high society. It's a place of expensive art, noble farces, and fine wine with a hint of poison. Power is divided into two sectors: money, and popularity. Knightly orders exist, yes, but only as a game for dashing young nobles to play. The Sinver do not fight with weapons, but with words and with wealth. They are the traders, noblemen and politicians of the world.

But this was not always so. Countless years ago, the men who would become Sinver were brutish invaders. It began with a small, powerful culture of warriors: the Kret. Like a lion charging at it's prey, Kret poured into nearby nations centuries ago. They ruled everything they touched.

The names of those lands they conquered are barely remembered today. Each new victim was quickly absorbed into the Kret culture. The Kret's tongue assimilated words from the languages of the same men they made war on, just as the Kret's faith grew by accepting fragments of defeated religions, and the Kret's scholars learned from foreign records. The great irony is that they accepted as much from their "vassals" as the vassals did from them. The various cultures fused seamlessly over the years. They eventually adopted a new name for themselves- Sinver, meaning "united." The conquered lands and the Kret had already merged in spirit, but the new title made it official. They were one.

The society slowly shifted as much as the name. They put down their swords, and took up their quills. Sinverland became a society of thinkers, not killers. They kept the aesthetic of knights, without the practice of violence to back it up. They learned to regret that when Emperiat came.

---

The war to overtake Sinverland was long- they had become too proud to simply surrender peacefully to the growing empire. The Sinver outnumbered the Emperiat troops two to one. At least, they did at the beginning. Troops in gold-painted armor lined up out in the open, wielding swords more decorative than effective, practically daring the invaders to charge in. But pride comes before the fall, and Sinverland's pride was great.

While some still hold a secret grudge for their loss, most are untroubled. The new unification has brought peace, and with peace comes trade, and with trade has come overflowing coffers. The old Kret warriors might have kept fighting, but these men are no longer warriors. They are content to continue their more modern, more civil lifestyle, now under the banner of Torivian.

Of course, it's not all perfect. With that surge in wealth and industry has risen a new class of merchants, more powerful politically than ever before. Merchant princes, as they have come to be called, are slowly amassing a treasure trove of money that threatens to rival that of the nobles. It has reached the point that the nobility is starting to look weaker than their new counterparts. Before his death, the good King Anderis was attempting to smooth things over.

Now the tension has resumed in absence of his wise council. While the Nobleman wear shining clothes and throw exclusive parties, the merchant princes counter them with even more extravagant outfits and even wealthier parties. No words are spoken openly, but in the land of Sinverland, none are needed; a war between the new wealth and the old nobles is being waged quietly, through passive-aggressive insinuations and subtle displays of superiority.

The king's sterility has not helped matters.