The mind is its own place, and in itself
Can make a heav'n of hell, a hell of heav'n.
Can make a heav'n of hell, a hell of heav'n.
-Lucifer, Paradise Lost
It has been four centuries since the end of what most of the commonfolk call the Old War. That which the Clerisy, the theocratic core of the Imperium of God-King Justinian- He of the High Seat- calls the Great Battle, in which the fate of the world was overturned, all souls ultimately saved from the iniquity and tyranny of the Dark Lord Daigon. That which the disparate followers of Daigon call the First Martyrdom, in which the Great Archon and his servants died in the attempted fulfillment of an ideal world, ken to neither death nor limits. All know it as that near-mythic conflict which broke the realm of Nagath, and scarred the whole of the continent of Geryon beside; its aftershocks felt through the whole of the known and unknown world.
It is indeed a matter of furious debate, and within Nagath and the Marcher-borderlands to the Imperium open, repeated and sanguinary warfare as to where the truth of the matter lies. From as far west as the republic-on-the-waters Wenesiam, where all things of wealth may yet be found and the gleam of gold keeps even the Imperium at arms' length, to as far east as the Drathan Union, where the bickering wizard-lords of the Congress of Masters quarrel amongst themselves almost without end within and with their teetering Salished imperial rivals without, questions are asked without any certain answer as to the true nature of Daigon, Nagath, her conquests and adventures abroad, and the circumstances of the Old War. It is questioned if ever Daigon existed at all, or Justinian for that matter; if both were not manufactured by the Imperium's theocrats, and their antagonist thence after fetishized by their enemies and utilized by those who wished power over them in like mind and method to the Clerisy.
What sees no debate is this; Nagath, at least in the material senses of extent of border, monument and mechanic, was a power near unequaled in her prime, rendering the quickness of her doom at the hands of Justinian's fledgling Imperium all the more puzzling. Black stone and steel, earth carved and rewrought, nature at her most wild harnessed by the engineers' masterwork; even now, much of the great architecture that was left fallow in the collapse stands, and some even functions yet. Arcane artifices of war, weapons dredged from a world lost and ill-understood even by those of necessary expertise, make for prizes unmatched, and are often bitterly contested in both the seeking and reclaimation of them. Its great architecture, shrines and temples, universities and government seats, haunted by demons, ghosts, familiar gods, orphaned monstrosities of all walk and make, speak to tragedy, and terror, to great and terrible majesty now lost.
Some of that majesty is preserved or at least squatted upon, in small part, by endless interlocking tyrannies, carved from the corpse of a once-great empire as its components balkanize, its leadership splits, and opportunists move in; and in the space between, anarchy is the order of law, and the sword reigns but does not rule, for it is beholden to none. Wild orcs and trolls, demihumans and once-men, scavenger bands and beasts of the earth, and all manner of mistakes of nature or things outside it run rampant and bring great misery. Into this land of woe do the Justinians deign to penetrate now and again, and to sow slaughter and ruin on the heads of their would-be enemies; for keen is the threat that would be offered by a strong and near power in Nagath, let alone a united continent, and many the men who would give their lives in fear for those behind them, in service of those who would sacrifice them and easily.
Many are the paths of adversity, and many are its sovereignties; may they be as one, by fated hand.
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And there we are, hopefully off to a striding start. Rules and out-of-world pitch below. Let's hope to get things rolling and keep them rolling in the days to follow. A coherent worldscape is continually establishing tiself, and a pile of collabs are to follow in the next couple of weeks from now, at 4/21.
- The world is a twilit and tragic place. Its patches of brightness are for the joy of the reader, and to make all the more apparent its shadows; if that twilight is to truly give way to a fresh dawn, none can say with certainty. Sincere optimism is a peculiar and often megalomaniacal trait. Nagath, specifically, is somewhere between a balkanized Mordor of Tolkien canon and the Mordor of The Last Ringbearer; outside of its pockets of civilization, it is not a nice place, and civilization tends to come with a catch. Sometimes the catch is bad enough that you'd rather just live in the open anarchy. But when that's the case, it usually isn't an option; feudalism is a bitch.
-Writing standards are to be advanced. It doesn't have to be high art, but a willingness to work towards setting literacy, elaboration of that setting, and to type out decently long paragraph series is to be expected.
-The world is to be, as a rule, a collaborative effort through all but start of concepts and perhaps end, where each thing- character, nation, species- shapes the others in one measure or another. To this end, extensive neighborly collaboration to set up a proper worldscape and joint/collaborate posts rather than independent telephone efforts is a high priority through the entire endeavor, equal or even greater than the immediate speed of the IC. A castle built on sand is brooked by no foe, for it is its own unmaking.
-The aesthetic is low-fantasy; the power ceiling ranges from medium to high; and the average low-medium. If a theme or character would fit into a Robert E. Howard or H.P Lovecraft story, Tolkien had he been dragged through a depressive mudslick, a Warhammer Fantasy rulebook blurb, meandering gloomy philosophics like parts of Paradise Lost, or the aesthetic and tone of 70s sword & sorcery artwork with moderation of the quantity of the fantastic and a bit of modern inflection, it goes here just fine.
-Writing standards are to be advanced. It doesn't have to be high art, but a willingness to work towards setting literacy, elaboration of that setting, and to type out decently long paragraph series is to be expected.
-The world is to be, as a rule, a collaborative effort through all but start of concepts and perhaps end, where each thing- character, nation, species- shapes the others in one measure or another. To this end, extensive neighborly collaboration to set up a proper worldscape and joint/collaborate posts rather than independent telephone efforts is a high priority through the entire endeavor, equal or even greater than the immediate speed of the IC. A castle built on sand is brooked by no foe, for it is its own unmaking.
-The aesthetic is low-fantasy; the power ceiling ranges from medium to high; and the average low-medium. If a theme or character would fit into a Robert E. Howard or H.P Lovecraft story, Tolkien had he been dragged through a depressive mudslick, a Warhammer Fantasy rulebook blurb, meandering gloomy philosophics like parts of Paradise Lost, or the aesthetic and tone of 70s sword & sorcery artwork with moderation of the quantity of the fantastic and a bit of modern inflection, it goes here just fine.
-To expound further on the last paragraph of the previous section; magic and metaphysics are given their just due as immense forces that most men never scratch the surfaces of. Casual use and easy apprenticeship, definitely laid Vancian schools and spells as more than shorthand for the unimaginative and inept or a well-developed and much used class, the existence of units of casters as opposed to at maximum a Warhammer special character-style proportion of 'very few,' are all to be avoided. Scarcity is far more to that lattermost description than it is to Tolkiensian level wizard scarcity, but still.
-Tech level is thoroughly planted in the 1600s. Anachronism behind, or a bit forward in chronology but not sophistication for a certain cultural-regional standard (example: Vritraprthvirajya is based upon India and its vicinity primarily, which was no great naval power under the Mamluks, but under the Marathas acquired fantastic light ships and openly contested and defeated the British navy, and with East Asian influences, will have treasure ships somewhat in the boxy Chinese configuration in the heavy ship role) is acceptable, as the technical and social level is described as 'schizoid,' but massive mundane leaps forward and the always-disproportionate-in-effect technocracy will not be brooked. Mass production of anachronisms ala a Warhammer Empire Steam Tank or the like is also a no-no. While not every such thing must be a one off, one should expect any production runs to be limited and to be unstandardized, as one might see in a follow-on class of ship; broad similarities, but the guts are only equivalent in basis of technique, and not in schematic. It should also be said that, generally, technical and social sophistication is dictated by effective proximity to the major powers of the West or East in the Justinian Imperium or Vritraprthvirajya and closeness to their influence; these are the large arsenal-brokers. Away from them, you have technical black holes in the immediate vicinity of the Red Empire, which lags behind in a fashion alike to era contemporary China, or where geography is deeply isolating regardless of proximity by land, backwaters such as Oszbeyr in the Sour Fen will fall behind to some degree or another, in the fashion of renaissance Russia.
-As a specific technology forbiddance, mass production metal cartridge guns or other infantry-scale breechloaders and any repeater less hellishly complex than the Kalthoff repeater and those like it are a no-go by DM fiat, as is having more than middling triple digit numbers of the permitted types as even this is in excess of the number historically held by the Danish foot guard. Reasoning being; if operating under the technical level and machining prowess of this time, one were to put two and two together with expertise technically also available at the time and applied to European monarchs' hunting guns, then one will have made a one to two hundred year leap in technology from anywhere in 1600-1700 to 1800-1900. And suddenly the playing field is very different, and everyone that is not the innovator is hopelessly obsolete as soon as these hit the field en masse, even using the most dysfunctional examples like the Ferguson rifle, which was doomed mostly by a mistakenly weak structure around the overlarge screw that drops the breech and the decentralized nature of late 1700s British arms manufacture rather than material or theoretical engineering immaturity. If you can make a Kalthoff, then you can damn well make a Khyber Pass Martini-Henry or some equivalent with the much simpler know-how. A small exception to this rule is made in the case of breech-loading swivel guns, with their huge mug powder magazines, leaky chambers and thus low pressures, and similarly obnoxious manufacture to the more sophisticated and later Kalthoff. These are unsophisticated and unrevolutionary enough to abide the existence of, seeing as they are essentially point-defense weapons and bound to be low in number. Muzzle-loaders are the rule and the law of the land with small exceptions, in the interest of no runaway power and tech creep on this basis.
-Archeotech is a sort of sidelong exception to this rule; the current operating rule is that of Laputa: Castle in the Sky fiat tech, strange geometries, rays of light, fields of energy, half cut loosely from plasma cosmology (charged matter/energy and plasma are of more import than gravity in shaping phenomena, and per pulp fictional reinditions of the 'electric universe,' are a shorter road to high material science than 'conventional' methods) and the other half from the seeming hand-down of divine devices and knowledge from on high ala the Hindu Astra weapons, particularly those that sound alike to technology out of place with the era of the texts, giving birth to ideas of preceding high civilization. Archeotech that might imitate the function of some of the banned items under this more setting-appropriate aesthetic may exist, but are to be even more hellishly scarce than the allowed ones, most likely to be plot items, battle and siege-winners in themselves to be deployed under grievous circumstances. At the very lowest level, certainly a trump card in a characters' arsenal in whatever utility the device serves. Essentially, the same rules as are applied to magic; meaningfully powerful, very scarce on world scale. Just not quite Tolkien scarce. And not to be written in and applied flippantly. This is because it IS magic, sufficiently applied as to resemble technology, in inversion of the old 'sufficiently advanced technology is indistinguishable from magic' adage.
-Tech level is thoroughly planted in the 1600s. Anachronism behind, or a bit forward in chronology but not sophistication for a certain cultural-regional standard (example: Vritraprthvirajya is based upon India and its vicinity primarily, which was no great naval power under the Mamluks, but under the Marathas acquired fantastic light ships and openly contested and defeated the British navy, and with East Asian influences, will have treasure ships somewhat in the boxy Chinese configuration in the heavy ship role) is acceptable, as the technical and social level is described as 'schizoid,' but massive mundane leaps forward and the always-disproportionate-in-effect technocracy will not be brooked. Mass production of anachronisms ala a Warhammer Empire Steam Tank or the like is also a no-no. While not every such thing must be a one off, one should expect any production runs to be limited and to be unstandardized, as one might see in a follow-on class of ship; broad similarities, but the guts are only equivalent in basis of technique, and not in schematic. It should also be said that, generally, technical and social sophistication is dictated by effective proximity to the major powers of the West or East in the Justinian Imperium or Vritraprthvirajya and closeness to their influence; these are the large arsenal-brokers. Away from them, you have technical black holes in the immediate vicinity of the Red Empire, which lags behind in a fashion alike to era contemporary China, or where geography is deeply isolating regardless of proximity by land, backwaters such as Oszbeyr in the Sour Fen will fall behind to some degree or another, in the fashion of renaissance Russia.
-As a specific technology forbiddance, mass production metal cartridge guns or other infantry-scale breechloaders and any repeater less hellishly complex than the Kalthoff repeater and those like it are a no-go by DM fiat, as is having more than middling triple digit numbers of the permitted types as even this is in excess of the number historically held by the Danish foot guard. Reasoning being; if operating under the technical level and machining prowess of this time, one were to put two and two together with expertise technically also available at the time and applied to European monarchs' hunting guns, then one will have made a one to two hundred year leap in technology from anywhere in 1600-1700 to 1800-1900. And suddenly the playing field is very different, and everyone that is not the innovator is hopelessly obsolete as soon as these hit the field en masse, even using the most dysfunctional examples like the Ferguson rifle, which was doomed mostly by a mistakenly weak structure around the overlarge screw that drops the breech and the decentralized nature of late 1700s British arms manufacture rather than material or theoretical engineering immaturity. If you can make a Kalthoff, then you can damn well make a Khyber Pass Martini-Henry or some equivalent with the much simpler know-how. A small exception to this rule is made in the case of breech-loading swivel guns, with their huge mug powder magazines, leaky chambers and thus low pressures, and similarly obnoxious manufacture to the more sophisticated and later Kalthoff. These are unsophisticated and unrevolutionary enough to abide the existence of, seeing as they are essentially point-defense weapons and bound to be low in number. Muzzle-loaders are the rule and the law of the land with small exceptions, in the interest of no runaway power and tech creep on this basis.
-Archeotech is a sort of sidelong exception to this rule; the current operating rule is that of Laputa: Castle in the Sky fiat tech, strange geometries, rays of light, fields of energy, half cut loosely from plasma cosmology (charged matter/energy and plasma are of more import than gravity in shaping phenomena, and per pulp fictional reinditions of the 'electric universe,' are a shorter road to high material science than 'conventional' methods) and the other half from the seeming hand-down of divine devices and knowledge from on high ala the Hindu Astra weapons, particularly those that sound alike to technology out of place with the era of the texts, giving birth to ideas of preceding high civilization. Archeotech that might imitate the function of some of the banned items under this more setting-appropriate aesthetic may exist, but are to be even more hellishly scarce than the allowed ones, most likely to be plot items, battle and siege-winners in themselves to be deployed under grievous circumstances. At the very lowest level, certainly a trump card in a characters' arsenal in whatever utility the device serves. Essentially, the same rules as are applied to magic; meaningfully powerful, very scarce on world scale. Just not quite Tolkien scarce. And not to be written in and applied flippantly. This is because it IS magic, sufficiently applied as to resemble technology, in inversion of the old 'sufficiently advanced technology is indistinguishable from magic' adage.
(To be codified and updated.)
Man
"You ask me why I should favor Man, beside that he is my own, and lay within my own breast? I ask ye, where else in creation will you find balance? In ratio of physique, in humors and in character, in his strengths and his failings alike, he is even. Finding quality in all measures, in all combinations. Man is the yardstick of creation, and so I belove him, for I am He."
-Quotation of Justinian to his demihuman allies; most often interpreted in chauvinist fashion.
"Man is contrary- man is not straight! Purely Shar-born, he is sown in failings and a death following life. We, Ukha-born, Krin-made rise in a life following death, for our god lives in us and incarnate forever, too strong and good for the grave ten thousand times over. We are his breath and beating heart, strong-armed and brave. What are the gifts of man? Mediocrity, for his is not a special nor uniform strength, but the fumbling weaknesses of his creator that he must excise from birth. Were Man steel, he could be beaten straight, but he is slag from the forge, and can only be cast out!"
-Quotation from the Naukada Krin, variously attributed, incarnation and era unknown.
Amongst all the peoples of Geryon and Azoth, the only one which defies singular description is Man. Existing from pole to pole, he is varied as the stars in the sky, though in subtle measures. Amongst him are found all characters, all trades and walks of life, and he amongst them. Soldiers and farmer, merchant and tradesman, priest and apostate, arcanist and witch-hater, hero and coward. Man is insufferably average and ubiquitious, and so not much can be said of him that can be said of him alone.
Demihumans
"Since there are those amongst us who are not men, but neither monsters, I ask He of the High Seat; what should we call and treat them by? For it is a cause of much consternation in these times."
"As not men, but alike to them. Is that not obvious? Why ask this question, when you have eyes to see?"
"As not men, but alike to them. Is that not obvious? Why ask this question, when you have eyes to see?"
-Justinian, answering to the Clerisy's inquiries on the treatment of demihumans.
'Demihuman' is a label that bears a certain degree of controversy. Arising from the real or perceived need to not merely separate proverbial wheat from chaff but wheat by grade, it has been variously applied and with varyingly wide an umbrella. Definitely within this class are elves, dwarves, halflings and other folk that are clearly kin to men; beyond this it is murkier.
For some, chimaera-folk such as the Bray, Gnoles, Garuda, Tshriv, Zionuk, perhaps the Sharforukak, and others yet fit within the descriptor of 'demihuman,' and very radical non-Imperial thinkers are inclined to extend it even to the alchemically derived beastmen; others, particularly those in the Imperium's mold, reject both of the latter classes as one grouping of animal-men regardless of origin and hold only the former as man's kin, albeit at arm's length.
Regardless, for simplicity's sake, here we will assume the middle of the road; that it includes mankin and civilized chimaeras, some of whom may or may not predate the Dark Lord's artifice entirely, but not savages in the breed of those one might find in certain reaches of the Kaumntok or eking out their subsistence as wild hunter-gatherers in Nagath, who shall be described as beastkin.
For some, chimaera-folk such as the Bray, Gnoles, Garuda, Tshriv, Zionuk, perhaps the Sharforukak, and others yet fit within the descriptor of 'demihuman,' and very radical non-Imperial thinkers are inclined to extend it even to the alchemically derived beastmen; others, particularly those in the Imperium's mold, reject both of the latter classes as one grouping of animal-men regardless of origin and hold only the former as man's kin, albeit at arm's length.
Regardless, for simplicity's sake, here we will assume the middle of the road; that it includes mankin and civilized chimaeras, some of whom may or may not predate the Dark Lord's artifice entirely, but not savages in the breed of those one might find in certain reaches of the Kaumntok or eking out their subsistence as wild hunter-gatherers in Nagath, who shall be described as beastkin.
Brayfolk
Children of the mud, weep not, your Goddess is watching over. Sin, of the gentle ray, the healing hand, hidden wisdom and the sacrosanct soul, who wipes all tears away. Weep not, weep not. You are born in mud, but yours is a firmament of stars; you are the silver in the waters. Weep no longer forevermore, and blossom heavensward.
-Excerpted Words of the Moon-Mother Matron, the modest and sole definite, universal canon of the Bray religion. Generally carved on stone or in staves; its full length would easily fit into a pocket book.
The history of the Brayfolk- otherwise called Satyr, Faun, Ljeschi, Vānara, wild children or goatmen- for that which has been recorded, is best described as a long and admirably borne tragedy. Possibly predating the Nagathi mandate as a distinct race, and definitely as a culture, the Bray dwelt in what would become the Sour Fen, as an offshoot of the original race of men that inhabited the delta. When the Fen soured, a measure of their children were cursed with a fully bestial aspect and feeble minds, in the same fashion as that which birthed the Half-Men, but they could not bring themselves to slay their own. When the Gnoles turned upon them with hardened hearts, determined to survive in spite of the cataclysm around them, the dual disadantage of sustaining this tainted demographic and their lack of will to fight a people that had been friends saw most of the Bray driven out in an eastward diaspora, led by Mother Matron Sirona, many of whom would eventually settle in Vritraprthvirajya, others splitting off along the way.
Theirs is a culture of peaceable naturalists, healers and wild-dwellers, preferring modest settlements, modest plots or forest farming & herbalism to centralized fields, peacebond to the drawing of swords, and folk art to high architecture. Urban living for them is stifling; they avoid the cities as much as they can, for its physical confines and drowning noise, which silences the voice of nature that they claim to parse out. A minority in any Bray community, called Dùr- literally 'stubborn'- invert these tendencies, and finding themselves stifled by their prime culture, instead branch out into the symbiotic second community of watchmen, hunter-wilders, protectors and glory-winners, pitied but essential to any Bray community as their only truly martial element, ill-tempered and fierce gatekeepers to a vulnerable people. The wild even amongst the Dùr tend to strike out on their own as sellswords or act as auxilliaries in state militaries.
Inheritors of another scrap of the old Fennish religion that is now kept by the Lodge of the High Stars in Oszbeyr, they give themselves wholly to worshiping the moon goddess Sin, whose portfolio includes healing & health, fertility and natural abundance, spartan wisdoms, the Moon, and certain mysteries, the Bray are in turn blessed or cursed by a certain goatish and chimaeric aspect, their physical inhumanity varying. Horizontal pupils are universal; ungulate horns & antlers, from stag, sheep or ram or otherwise abound; digitigrade legs are not uncommon; taloned hands and furred arms are not unheard of. But on the whole, the core population is very apparently human in origin. The problem lay in their often defective children. The Bray do not reproduce cleanly or easily; a full two thirds of all children on average are born as beastkin-like geldings, called with sad reverence as 'Blooming Ones.' Weak, simple, and easily distracted little upright goats without a trace of man in them save vague build and hands, they live a life of permanent enlightened revery, gentle and well-meaning, but unsuited to more than simple manual labor & gathering work under explicit instruction or good training. An albatross around the neck of their race, a limiter on their expansion, but they cannot be dispensed with; kinslaying was and is too grievous to consider, and to speak the idea is a deep taboo.
For these characteristics, they find themselves beloved in eastern Nagath, common Bray being indispensable to frontier living and land reclamation and Dùr valued as warriors and roughneck scouts oft physically undaunted by steep or muddy terrain; commerce with their communities, usually set just off the beaten track of their human sister settlements, is regular and well-valued. In the West, they are viewed with substantial skepticism for their refusal to uniformly and unconditionally integrate into urban civilization or to give up their indigenous rites and traditions, or even to pay lip-service to the Justinian church, and in the deeper Imperium proper- though they are largely absent there- are particularly ill regarded for these reasons and certain Justinian quotations about 'separating the lambs from the goats' that have been retroactively applied to the Bray, and they often find themselves viewed as beastkin in light of the Blooming Ones. The outwardly unfriendly Dùr in particular have caused much consternation for presumptuous officials who do not know how to carry themselves amongst this unfamiliar people, leading to their being declared lawless spurners and brutes. The exception to this rule would be the Free Legion, which has come to reach out to and extend its envelope of protection over a number of the few Bray remaining in the Fen, and to engage in mutualist dialogue, thus enjoying a similar relationship as those peoples eastwards.
Theirs is a culture of peaceable naturalists, healers and wild-dwellers, preferring modest settlements, modest plots or forest farming & herbalism to centralized fields, peacebond to the drawing of swords, and folk art to high architecture. Urban living for them is stifling; they avoid the cities as much as they can, for its physical confines and drowning noise, which silences the voice of nature that they claim to parse out. A minority in any Bray community, called Dùr- literally 'stubborn'- invert these tendencies, and finding themselves stifled by their prime culture, instead branch out into the symbiotic second community of watchmen, hunter-wilders, protectors and glory-winners, pitied but essential to any Bray community as their only truly martial element, ill-tempered and fierce gatekeepers to a vulnerable people. The wild even amongst the Dùr tend to strike out on their own as sellswords or act as auxilliaries in state militaries.
Inheritors of another scrap of the old Fennish religion that is now kept by the Lodge of the High Stars in Oszbeyr, they give themselves wholly to worshiping the moon goddess Sin, whose portfolio includes healing & health, fertility and natural abundance, spartan wisdoms, the Moon, and certain mysteries, the Bray are in turn blessed or cursed by a certain goatish and chimaeric aspect, their physical inhumanity varying. Horizontal pupils are universal; ungulate horns & antlers, from stag, sheep or ram or otherwise abound; digitigrade legs are not uncommon; taloned hands and furred arms are not unheard of. But on the whole, the core population is very apparently human in origin. The problem lay in their often defective children. The Bray do not reproduce cleanly or easily; a full two thirds of all children on average are born as beastkin-like geldings, called with sad reverence as 'Blooming Ones.' Weak, simple, and easily distracted little upright goats without a trace of man in them save vague build and hands, they live a life of permanent enlightened revery, gentle and well-meaning, but unsuited to more than simple manual labor & gathering work under explicit instruction or good training. An albatross around the neck of their race, a limiter on their expansion, but they cannot be dispensed with; kinslaying was and is too grievous to consider, and to speak the idea is a deep taboo.
For these characteristics, they find themselves beloved in eastern Nagath, common Bray being indispensable to frontier living and land reclamation and Dùr valued as warriors and roughneck scouts oft physically undaunted by steep or muddy terrain; commerce with their communities, usually set just off the beaten track of their human sister settlements, is regular and well-valued. In the West, they are viewed with substantial skepticism for their refusal to uniformly and unconditionally integrate into urban civilization or to give up their indigenous rites and traditions, or even to pay lip-service to the Justinian church, and in the deeper Imperium proper- though they are largely absent there- are particularly ill regarded for these reasons and certain Justinian quotations about 'separating the lambs from the goats' that have been retroactively applied to the Bray, and they often find themselves viewed as beastkin in light of the Blooming Ones. The outwardly unfriendly Dùr in particular have caused much consternation for presumptuous officials who do not know how to carry themselves amongst this unfamiliar people, leading to their being declared lawless spurners and brutes. The exception to this rule would be the Free Legion, which has come to reach out to and extend its envelope of protection over a number of the few Bray remaining in the Fen, and to engage in mutualist dialogue, thus enjoying a similar relationship as those peoples eastwards.
Gnoles
"Blood, remember blood always! Hearken to your kith and your kin, and keep to your littermates and clanmates. In these days, where the stars hide and the truth is obscured by mist and cloud, we can count on nothing more than the rich, divine crimson that pumps steadily under our hides."
-The Sermonizing of Eckue-Har, at the last Congregation Beneath the Jaws
They come from 'tween the mangroves, out of the coiling mists of the Fen, carrying spears of leaf-bladed bog iron and wearing the bone and scaled hide of the myriad monsters they hunt. Once, they may have been men, or perhaps they might have been savage beasts, for it is evident that they share traits with each estranged cousin. Old folklore - and indeed the chronicles of Prinzes as well - recount the twisting of many of the Sour Fen's denizens being tarnished in spirit and essence by the 'Swallowing Doom' that followed the 'Great Treachery' of Justinian and his court.
They walk upright and speak a guttural, growling tongue, they fashion tools and garb, and they trade and break bread with their settled, human counterparts in the Sour Fen's foothills. At the same time, they are born in litters, they have the dark eyes of and bristling, blond fur of hyenas, and they prefer their meat raw and dripping red with 'divine juices'. Their whole existence is a reverie, an ecstatic war against the baser, inhuman nature that pounds at their skulls from their first days.
Everything from war to trade is an expression of this coherent, shared spiritual understanding, though they are loathe to divulge such to the 'shaved men' of the hills. Social cohesion, the twofold pledge of the Litter and the Clan, is instinctual to these beastmen, and each knows their place. A gnole always has a reason for an undertaking, and it is always spiritually justified.
They walk upright and speak a guttural, growling tongue, they fashion tools and garb, and they trade and break bread with their settled, human counterparts in the Sour Fen's foothills. At the same time, they are born in litters, they have the dark eyes of and bristling, blond fur of hyenas, and they prefer their meat raw and dripping red with 'divine juices'. Their whole existence is a reverie, an ecstatic war against the baser, inhuman nature that pounds at their skulls from their first days.
Everything from war to trade is an expression of this coherent, shared spiritual understanding, though they are loathe to divulge such to the 'shaved men' of the hills. Social cohesion, the twofold pledge of the Litter and the Clan, is instinctual to these beastmen, and each knows their place. A gnole always has a reason for an undertaking, and it is always spiritually justified.
Demons
"These sad creatures, born of the effluence beneath creation or attending the empty workings of heaven's footpaths, are deserving of our pity and our sympathy, not our scorn. Forgotten by the maker of the world and by mankind, who amongst you would not be driven to envy, desperation, crooked-mindedness, in their shoes? What sin is there to deal with them in right mind and order, without evil intent or result? I can claim neither innocence nor guilt, for by my deeds there is no crime."
- Testimony of 'Jeorg,' arch-heretic of the Cult of the Hand and the Hidden Door. Judged guilty and burned at the stake by the Clerisy for consorting with infernal powers.
In the spaces about the world, above and below, there dwell beings and consciousnesses that are distinctly unalike to mortals. Both revered, despised and ignored throughout history, largely differing in makeup and personality between subclasses, and given many names and titles, all have nonetheless been called under the singular appellation of 'demon' at one point or another. For all share in the fact that they are ungodly spirits in the sense of being lesser to the divine, but still not born of or to any conventional fleshly life.
Be they the star-blooded Ouranos that are said to administrate the outer heavens in the fashion of workmen, bureaucrats and astronomer-calculators, or the pitch spawned Abaddon who once dwelt in the primordial dark before creation and now rest brooding at the bottom of all things, or all those inbetween and aside- man spawned fiends feeding off the ichor of Tartarus' effluence to become more than they are, be they Asuran in character or otherwise, the fiery demons of the Pit that keep watch over and violently oppose the resentful dead with lance and lash, or the bargaining squatters both once and never-mortal in the upper and middle reaches of Tartarus that are called Miftah or Demons of the Key both for the doors of knowledge they unlock and their singular desire to return to the mortal world- all are quite alike in that their substance is never in ordinary flesh, and their minds always bent crooked one way or another beyond the conventionally living.
For the latter part one finds the reason for their often figuring as great figures in legend and drama, as it does not do for them to do or be little. Even the Ouranos, though alleging themselves as servants to the artifice of the Silent God, are haughty and ill attentive to mortal intruders; the demons of the Pit, even as glorified wardens, are faultedly vain, boastful, and eager to inspire awe & terror through their abilities and knowledge. Almost all are bargainers and boon-givers in disadvantage or at whim, and almost all are inclined to domination within their own spheres as much as situation allows for them to be. So it is that only fools and the wise consort with demons of any breed, to their doom and dividend respectively; midwits, for what they do know, know better than to try to go beyond mortal ken.
Be they the star-blooded Ouranos that are said to administrate the outer heavens in the fashion of workmen, bureaucrats and astronomer-calculators, or the pitch spawned Abaddon who once dwelt in the primordial dark before creation and now rest brooding at the bottom of all things, or all those inbetween and aside- man spawned fiends feeding off the ichor of Tartarus' effluence to become more than they are, be they Asuran in character or otherwise, the fiery demons of the Pit that keep watch over and violently oppose the resentful dead with lance and lash, or the bargaining squatters both once and never-mortal in the upper and middle reaches of Tartarus that are called Miftah or Demons of the Key both for the doors of knowledge they unlock and their singular desire to return to the mortal world- all are quite alike in that their substance is never in ordinary flesh, and their minds always bent crooked one way or another beyond the conventionally living.
For the latter part one finds the reason for their often figuring as great figures in legend and drama, as it does not do for them to do or be little. Even the Ouranos, though alleging themselves as servants to the artifice of the Silent God, are haughty and ill attentive to mortal intruders; the demons of the Pit, even as glorified wardens, are faultedly vain, boastful, and eager to inspire awe & terror through their abilities and knowledge. Almost all are bargainers and boon-givers in disadvantage or at whim, and almost all are inclined to domination within their own spheres as much as situation allows for them to be. So it is that only fools and the wise consort with demons of any breed, to their doom and dividend respectively; midwits, for what they do know, know better than to try to go beyond mortal ken.
Topographic/Geographic
Political
Nagath is a big country/region, with player eyeball estimates ranging from Western Europe to Eurasia in size, and a fair range of geography. The visible topography is a guide, but not a completely strict rule; as there's little distinction between reasonably arable green areas and desert as opposed to the fertile riverside & the Fen, aridity ought be informed by what's around rather than the uniform tan-brown. As long as it doesn't fly in the face of logic, use your discretion here and it'll get sorted out.
Political
Nagath is a big country/region, with player eyeball estimates ranging from Western Europe to Eurasia in size, and a fair range of geography. The visible topography is a guide, but not a completely strict rule; as there's little distinction between reasonably arable green areas and desert as opposed to the fertile riverside & the Fen, aridity ought be informed by what's around rather than the uniform tan-brown. As long as it doesn't fly in the face of logic, use your discretion here and it'll get sorted out.
Justinian Imperium
The foremost power on Geryon for four hundred years, nominally the unity of a thousand crowns under one, that of the God-King Justinian, He of the High Seat. Formed in response to Nagath's aggressions and imperialist expansion on the secular level, and her real and alleged atrocities & crimes against nature in the theological realm, Justinian allegedly emerged to oppose Daigon from humble, common origins, infused by a spark of divinity by means undivulged, and which even the Clerisy, his theocratic servants and direct attendants, has only so much knowledge of. All this to restore and permanently enseat Justice with sword in hand and eyes unblinded, to banish the stain of sorcery from the world, and to see no good man's name ever forgotten by his descendants, so that humankind may survive and receive the grace of God unseen and faraways. Of this descriptor, it may certainly be said that there are a thousand crowns within one realm, but their effective unity has been a matter of variance and debate.
In spite of its near-unseen divine monarch and absolute power vested within him, the Imperium is a decentralizedly aristocratic affair. At its pinnacle is Justinian; unacting, power symbolically flowing down from him. Below him is the Clerisy, priest-attendants and speakers of the high Law, who are placed over all crowns in virtue of their representation of the One, and administrators of many bishophric counties and occasional duchies. Then, the aristocrats, blue-blooded men dating back to the original royal and noble lines that confederated beneath Justinian and those raised to peerage after, whose material interests are often the prime driving force between the Imperiums' politics in spite of clerical rhetoric overlaid above them. The professional military men- be they state or personal retinue- follow next, as physical enforcers of the Law, the standing army waxing and waning in scale with times of war and peace, and the personal retinues. The commonfolk rest on the bottom, as source to labor and levy be they serf or freeman. And below even they lay those nonhumans allowed to exist, though in persecution; elves, dwarves, halflings, the like, whose waning devotion to Justinians' cause and its expediencies in the aftermath of the Old War and their real or supposed subversive activities against the crowns.
Further confusing the matter are what could be described as the unilateral organizations- those who act in the name of the Law, from outside of this conventional pyramid of power and organization. These include small and professional state-sanctioned organizations such as the Castigati, witch-slayers and demon-hunters sworn to the extermination of Daigon's physical legacy and memory in totality, to flagellant lay-preachers, mercenary free bands, army factionalists acting for or against the peerage, and vigilante mobs from the common folk in imitation of one or all of the former parties. Some are with the Crowns, others against; some are for Justinian and the restoration of his seemingly bound hands to power, and others decry his contemporary existence as an invention of the Clerisy. All are unique in that they are often especially independent in action, and so plots, coups, and peasant wars are orders of the day, or decade, within the Imperium.
The Imperium's mandate is best described as a tablature of steel commandments left to rust; it has long been asked whether it will survive, and to what degree. But in four hundred years, it has not faltered with finality yet. Only time will tell.
The foremost power on Geryon for four hundred years, nominally the unity of a thousand crowns under one, that of the God-King Justinian, He of the High Seat. Formed in response to Nagath's aggressions and imperialist expansion on the secular level, and her real and alleged atrocities & crimes against nature in the theological realm, Justinian allegedly emerged to oppose Daigon from humble, common origins, infused by a spark of divinity by means undivulged, and which even the Clerisy, his theocratic servants and direct attendants, has only so much knowledge of. All this to restore and permanently enseat Justice with sword in hand and eyes unblinded, to banish the stain of sorcery from the world, and to see no good man's name ever forgotten by his descendants, so that humankind may survive and receive the grace of God unseen and faraways. Of this descriptor, it may certainly be said that there are a thousand crowns within one realm, but their effective unity has been a matter of variance and debate.
In spite of its near-unseen divine monarch and absolute power vested within him, the Imperium is a decentralizedly aristocratic affair. At its pinnacle is Justinian; unacting, power symbolically flowing down from him. Below him is the Clerisy, priest-attendants and speakers of the high Law, who are placed over all crowns in virtue of their representation of the One, and administrators of many bishophric counties and occasional duchies. Then, the aristocrats, blue-blooded men dating back to the original royal and noble lines that confederated beneath Justinian and those raised to peerage after, whose material interests are often the prime driving force between the Imperiums' politics in spite of clerical rhetoric overlaid above them. The professional military men- be they state or personal retinue- follow next, as physical enforcers of the Law, the standing army waxing and waning in scale with times of war and peace, and the personal retinues. The commonfolk rest on the bottom, as source to labor and levy be they serf or freeman. And below even they lay those nonhumans allowed to exist, though in persecution; elves, dwarves, halflings, the like, whose waning devotion to Justinians' cause and its expediencies in the aftermath of the Old War and their real or supposed subversive activities against the crowns.
Further confusing the matter are what could be described as the unilateral organizations- those who act in the name of the Law, from outside of this conventional pyramid of power and organization. These include small and professional state-sanctioned organizations such as the Castigati, witch-slayers and demon-hunters sworn to the extermination of Daigon's physical legacy and memory in totality, to flagellant lay-preachers, mercenary free bands, army factionalists acting for or against the peerage, and vigilante mobs from the common folk in imitation of one or all of the former parties. Some are with the Crowns, others against; some are for Justinian and the restoration of his seemingly bound hands to power, and others decry his contemporary existence as an invention of the Clerisy. All are unique in that they are often especially independent in action, and so plots, coups, and peasant wars are orders of the day, or decade, within the Imperium.
The Imperium's mandate is best described as a tablature of steel commandments left to rust; it has long been asked whether it will survive, and to what degree. But in four hundred years, it has not faltered with finality yet. Only time will tell.
The Marches
The farther-flung vassals, member states, disparate warlordists, border princelings and military commissions of the Justinian Imperium. Often formed up by or with a component of Nagathi ethnicities, influenced or interbred by and with the peoples of the Imperium. Most all are within the uplands and along the mountains delineating the border, they keep the peace and act as the first line against enemy incursions, as well as as a cultural buffer against 'degenerate Nagathi influence' into the deeper Imperium. Monster culls, punitive expeditions and border patrol are all within their purview, and they are most often left to it save in those rare times where the Imperium is fully roused and state troops are brought in to reinforce the line.
The farther-flung vassals, member states, disparate warlordists, border princelings and military commissions of the Justinian Imperium. Often formed up by or with a component of Nagathi ethnicities, influenced or interbred by and with the peoples of the Imperium. Most all are within the uplands and along the mountains delineating the border, they keep the peace and act as the first line against enemy incursions, as well as as a cultural buffer against 'degenerate Nagathi influence' into the deeper Imperium. Monster culls, punitive expeditions and border patrol are all within their purview, and they are most often left to it save in those rare times where the Imperium is fully roused and state troops are brought in to reinforce the line.
Mount Azoth & Daigon Zul: Before Daigon had ascended to his prime in rule over the unnamed principality that would one day become Nagath, and give its name to this entire subcontinent of Geryon itself, it is said by some apocryphal accounts that he traveled in the farther eastern lands, where the Drathans and the Salished incessantly spilt blood of man and beast alike in the great wars of wizards & priests. Certainly, the name of his capital and the redubbed mountain about and into which it was built would lend a degree of legitimacy, or at least stand testament to an interest in the sorcerous orient by the late Great Archon; Zul is a word meaning 'high place' in abstract, or that is as far as it may be translated to the common tongue, and Azoth the name by which the world goes in the East. So it is that monument and mount would be respecitvely rendered as Daigon Most High and Peak of the World; truly the humblest of monickers, even for one bent on world dominion.
Now, for all the grandeur of this statement, the city and the high fortresses of the mountain lie in utter ruin, described by one Western historiographer as 'an empty jumble of leaning spires, broken walls and shattered domes, inhabited only by corpses and demons.' Certainly, this is an apt description, for the complex of Daigon Zul and the whole mountainside- and the great stretch of dry waste, ashen field and drowning pitch-marsh surrounding- are so universally hostile to nonnative life as to ward off all claimants. Not once has any warlord or successor-claimant to Daigon's seat tried to claim it; none that have lived, to say the least. For it is here that the wildest and most dangerous monstrosities dwell, the most unpersonable demons, the legacy of Daigon's shadowed works. Such was the tumult and turmoil of Daigon Zul's twice-falling, now frozen in time, that it was described as 'the city of disarray and the crown of chaos, microcosm of that land's fall into disorder, into an empire of ataxia,' and has long evoked pity and tragedy in the minds of men even in the hostile West as gravestone to a great folly of mankind.
It is strange then that this 'crown of chaos,' long still and quiet, seems to stir after centuries of silence. The foul inhabitants in its midst, mangled beasts and chimaeric mistakes of alchemic science, have become all too much livelier and more aggressive, ranging farther and longer from their dens.And shadows seem to watch from her shattered ramparts, pillars great and looming.
Now, for all the grandeur of this statement, the city and the high fortresses of the mountain lie in utter ruin, described by one Western historiographer as 'an empty jumble of leaning spires, broken walls and shattered domes, inhabited only by corpses and demons.' Certainly, this is an apt description, for the complex of Daigon Zul and the whole mountainside- and the great stretch of dry waste, ashen field and drowning pitch-marsh surrounding- are so universally hostile to nonnative life as to ward off all claimants. Not once has any warlord or successor-claimant to Daigon's seat tried to claim it; none that have lived, to say the least. For it is here that the wildest and most dangerous monstrosities dwell, the most unpersonable demons, the legacy of Daigon's shadowed works. Such was the tumult and turmoil of Daigon Zul's twice-falling, now frozen in time, that it was described as 'the city of disarray and the crown of chaos, microcosm of that land's fall into disorder, into an empire of ataxia,' and has long evoked pity and tragedy in the minds of men even in the hostile West as gravestone to a great folly of mankind.
It is strange then that this 'crown of chaos,' long still and quiet, seems to stir after centuries of silence. The foul inhabitants in its midst, mangled beasts and chimaeric mistakes of alchemic science, have become all too much livelier and more aggressive, ranging farther and longer from their dens.And shadows seem to watch from her shattered ramparts, pillars great and looming.
The Claws
The Claws are so named for two reasons; one, for the jagged spires of rock and obsidian glass that seem to mark every lowland and crown every peak, beyond the bounds of the natural. Two, for the heinously deadly and predatory wildlife that stalks the region, a closed circuit of almost universal carnivorism that defies ecology and understanding, inhabited solely by those beings who find its barrens and semi-active volcanism to be agreeable. Once home to the great and ever-expanding backbone of Nagath's most centralized mines and military industries, and built to scale, it is now a long streak of abandoned fortresses & yawning empty foundries, lost to almost all parties. But 'almost all' is not 'all;' it plays host yet to the black dwarves of Clan Black Anvil, who occupy many boltholes along the mountain range and the Heart of the Forges- the greatest of the dual mine-foundry-complexes in the range - and to those beasts and orcs which find themselves either as slaves or as free savages, beating and feasting upon the beasts of the earth and one another in equal measure. For those others who would try to make guests of themselves in the range, and without aid from its established inhabitants, they do not find themselves welcome for long.
The Claws are so named for two reasons; one, for the jagged spires of rock and obsidian glass that seem to mark every lowland and crown every peak, beyond the bounds of the natural. Two, for the heinously deadly and predatory wildlife that stalks the region, a closed circuit of almost universal carnivorism that defies ecology and understanding, inhabited solely by those beings who find its barrens and semi-active volcanism to be agreeable. Once home to the great and ever-expanding backbone of Nagath's most centralized mines and military industries, and built to scale, it is now a long streak of abandoned fortresses & yawning empty foundries, lost to almost all parties. But 'almost all' is not 'all;' it plays host yet to the black dwarves of Clan Black Anvil, who occupy many boltholes along the mountain range and the Heart of the Forges- the greatest of the dual mine-foundry-complexes in the range - and to those beasts and orcs which find themselves either as slaves or as free savages, beating and feasting upon the beasts of the earth and one another in equal measure. For those others who would try to make guests of themselves in the range, and without aid from its established inhabitants, they do not find themselves welcome for long.
The Broken Coast & the Blackwater
The Broken Coast, set on the southern shores of Nagath and straddling 'round the Sour Fen, makes up one of the greenest areas in Nagath, though hardly a hospitable one. While often referred to as a single region, there is a certain diversity between the marshy foothills extending before Rotwatch and the temperate rainforest along the Blackwater; as a result, it is just as often that they are subdivided. The Broken Coast proper is a mild mirror of the Fen proper, though 'mild' is a relative term. Biting insects, evil creatures and foul terrain still predominate for the largest part, diferring mainly in scale and number and the potency of their varieties. Bald-stoned waste from inside the Fen's outermost lip eventually gives way to uneven green again, spilling over into a new stretch of hills and swamp, where the Justinians still maintain a March of sorts. It is rough, humid, and unmoderately hot & cold. Yet livable.
As one moves on towards the Black Water, a buffer of nutrient-poor bog and choking thorn & vine give way to moss-swaddled temperate rainforest on the western coast. These misty groves would maintain a certain ominous beauty, were it not for their danger. Vampiric huntsmen of the Sanguine Alliance besides, the region is marked by lurking wolves without fear of men- so-called wargs, speaking hearth haters inclined to begrudge and to cause fear and confusion for travelers, though rarely predating directly- and other far less benign lurkers in the trees and underroots, vampires degenerated by overindulging malfeasance into animalistic forms. On the eastern side, the same damp temperate terrain applies, with greater development of human settlements and agriculture, and hills reach further up into the mountain slopes and peaks, where the children of Kain have established themselves townships and mines, cutting into the mountain for all that which shines to satisfy their dilettante tastes. The south gives way to sandy shore and cliffed coast, while the north is both the resting place for the dead city of Agrat-Thul- the home and holdfast of Vampirism in Daigon's time- and for the new cities, built from quarried stone out of the east and well-isolated from potential incursion, save through the border with the neighboring Kingdom of Oszbeyr.
The Broken Coast, set on the southern shores of Nagath and straddling 'round the Sour Fen, makes up one of the greenest areas in Nagath, though hardly a hospitable one. While often referred to as a single region, there is a certain diversity between the marshy foothills extending before Rotwatch and the temperate rainforest along the Blackwater; as a result, it is just as often that they are subdivided. The Broken Coast proper is a mild mirror of the Fen proper, though 'mild' is a relative term. Biting insects, evil creatures and foul terrain still predominate for the largest part, diferring mainly in scale and number and the potency of their varieties. Bald-stoned waste from inside the Fen's outermost lip eventually gives way to uneven green again, spilling over into a new stretch of hills and swamp, where the Justinians still maintain a March of sorts. It is rough, humid, and unmoderately hot & cold. Yet livable.
As one moves on towards the Black Water, a buffer of nutrient-poor bog and choking thorn & vine give way to moss-swaddled temperate rainforest on the western coast. These misty groves would maintain a certain ominous beauty, were it not for their danger. Vampiric huntsmen of the Sanguine Alliance besides, the region is marked by lurking wolves without fear of men- so-called wargs, speaking hearth haters inclined to begrudge and to cause fear and confusion for travelers, though rarely predating directly- and other far less benign lurkers in the trees and underroots, vampires degenerated by overindulging malfeasance into animalistic forms. On the eastern side, the same damp temperate terrain applies, with greater development of human settlements and agriculture, and hills reach further up into the mountain slopes and peaks, where the children of Kain have established themselves townships and mines, cutting into the mountain for all that which shines to satisfy their dilettante tastes. The south gives way to sandy shore and cliffed coast, while the north is both the resting place for the dead city of Agrat-Thul- the home and holdfast of Vampirism in Daigon's time- and for the new cities, built from quarried stone out of the east and well-isolated from potential incursion, save through the border with the neighboring Kingdom of Oszbeyr.
Sour Fen
Past the swamps of the Broken Coast and the Blackwater rainforest, there lay a deeper stain upon Nagath. That would be the Sour Fen. Once the delta breadbasket of eastern Geryon and a jewel of Nagath, then a March under the Justinian's brief occupation, and then an all-drowning fen ringed by a bowl of acrid stone as the region choked, clogged by silt, swallowed up from below as if the whole region had been undermined by churning sinkholes. Most often this is blamed on the so-called Doom of the Fen, when the Imperial-Fennish peace summit was slaughtered, possibly to the last, by hardliners in Justinian's court, and a curse laid thereafter upon those who transgressed the now nameless holy ground in so doing. On that foundation was built the Tower of Dawn-Brought Truths, an obscurity to modern historians, though one of the sole standing remnants of the Marsh. Most all the rest was swallowed whole by the marsh, to briefly churn back up in one place or time or another, before once again falling beneath the effluent filth.
Still, even here man manages to survive. The Kingdom of Oszbeyr formed from the remnants of the old Fennish and the Justinian settlers, intermingling into more or less one people beneath a modest crown, annointed by the local cult of astrologer-naturalists, the Lodge of the High Stars. Beyond the realm of men, the Gnoles and a scarce few of their old foes of circumstance the Brayfolk eke out spartan lives, largely beneath the stars and no other roof but trees' branch or simple yurt. Life in the Fen is a matter of subsistent cunning, as there may be no more naturally dangerous place in the whole of Nagath- outside the old ruined capital- than the all-claiming Sour Fen. All that makes life difficult on the Broken Coast makes itself known all the moreso in the Fen. Its sicknesses are viler, its flora more wild, fauna greedier and ever-devouring all efforts when not kept at bay. It is hard-back peoples that choose Fen life, but whether the Fen favors them or or they have merely escaped its notice- for indeed the Fen lives, so the superstition goes- no one truly knows.
Past the swamps of the Broken Coast and the Blackwater rainforest, there lay a deeper stain upon Nagath. That would be the Sour Fen. Once the delta breadbasket of eastern Geryon and a jewel of Nagath, then a March under the Justinian's brief occupation, and then an all-drowning fen ringed by a bowl of acrid stone as the region choked, clogged by silt, swallowed up from below as if the whole region had been undermined by churning sinkholes. Most often this is blamed on the so-called Doom of the Fen, when the Imperial-Fennish peace summit was slaughtered, possibly to the last, by hardliners in Justinian's court, and a curse laid thereafter upon those who transgressed the now nameless holy ground in so doing. On that foundation was built the Tower of Dawn-Brought Truths, an obscurity to modern historians, though one of the sole standing remnants of the Marsh. Most all the rest was swallowed whole by the marsh, to briefly churn back up in one place or time or another, before once again falling beneath the effluent filth.
Still, even here man manages to survive. The Kingdom of Oszbeyr formed from the remnants of the old Fennish and the Justinian settlers, intermingling into more or less one people beneath a modest crown, annointed by the local cult of astrologer-naturalists, the Lodge of the High Stars. Beyond the realm of men, the Gnoles and a scarce few of their old foes of circumstance the Brayfolk eke out spartan lives, largely beneath the stars and no other roof but trees' branch or simple yurt. Life in the Fen is a matter of subsistent cunning, as there may be no more naturally dangerous place in the whole of Nagath- outside the old ruined capital- than the all-claiming Sour Fen. All that makes life difficult on the Broken Coast makes itself known all the moreso in the Fen. Its sicknesses are viler, its flora more wild, fauna greedier and ever-devouring all efforts when not kept at bay. It is hard-back peoples that choose Fen life, but whether the Fen favors them or or they have merely escaped its notice- for indeed the Fen lives, so the superstition goes- no one truly knows.
The Bay of Teeth
Not a part of Geryon, but of the continent Azoth, the Bay of Teeth and Zar Dratha with sits upon its mouth is the heart of the Drathan Union, the loose confederation of wizard-lords of the tradition of Othman Dratha who is their namesake that so often seizes Western minds on the matter of both ancient and modern arcana. An oasis of mud-flats in the midst of the wastelands of ash immediately surrounding and the Red Desert neighboring, it has long been a hub of trade and intellectual pursuit in the East and maintains an image and actuality of opulence, in spite of the disrepair of the lower classes and the uncomely nature of some of its subsistence industries, such as the grub-farmers and their invertebrate proceed, a pragmatic substitute for meat. In recent times, however, Zar Dratha has been largely closing itself to commerce from the West, with only a limited number of vessels given clearance to continue the long route through and little information making its way out up to now. Whether this is a matter of plague, political turmoil, isolationist withdrawal or or a round of doomcrying hysteria, cannot be said for certain. It can be said without doubt that there is upset in the house of the wizard-lords.
Not a part of Geryon, but of the continent Azoth, the Bay of Teeth and Zar Dratha with sits upon its mouth is the heart of the Drathan Union, the loose confederation of wizard-lords of the tradition of Othman Dratha who is their namesake that so often seizes Western minds on the matter of both ancient and modern arcana. An oasis of mud-flats in the midst of the wastelands of ash immediately surrounding and the Red Desert neighboring, it has long been a hub of trade and intellectual pursuit in the East and maintains an image and actuality of opulence, in spite of the disrepair of the lower classes and the uncomely nature of some of its subsistence industries, such as the grub-farmers and their invertebrate proceed, a pragmatic substitute for meat. In recent times, however, Zar Dratha has been largely closing itself to commerce from the West, with only a limited number of vessels given clearance to continue the long route through and little information making its way out up to now. Whether this is a matter of plague, political turmoil, isolationist withdrawal or or a round of doomcrying hysteria, cannot be said for certain. It can be said without doubt that there is upset in the house of the wizard-lords.
Short, out-of-world definitions of states, per the GM's take of it. Less to chew on than the Places blocks or individual character sheets. Format PC-NPC status/originator if originally PC sheet/rough international power ranking.
Justinian Imperium: NPC, great power
Holy Roman Catholiphate central europe blob. Comprised of an exceptional number of statelets and criss-crossing crownlands, with a few large ones ala Brandenburg or Austria, all subject to the nominal autocratic rule of God-King Justinian, who does very little ruling. Sleeping giant tendencies; high technical potential, miserly noble procurement sharply stops any rise to said potential, vaguely huge area on and offmap. Dysfunction, decentralization and corruption imported & exacerbated from the Holy Roman Empire, late Rome proper, and the myriad large Islamic states. Tends to be too wrapped up in itself to throw its weight around; occasionally bullies other Westerly states or launches punitive expeditions into the nearer Nagathi states. Theocracy is fanatical and prone to misinterpretation of quite spartanly written passages and quotations. Aristocracy pays outwardly fanatic lip service to the former while faithlessly looking out for their own material gains and preservation of the status quo. The military, comprised from noble retinues, legion-like state formations and levied peasant conscripts alike, is a frequent wildcard. The human common folk live their lives and weather the storm of all this. The nonhuman commonfolk weather things worse. And 'unilaterals' of many classes- witch hunters, flagellants, mercenaries, vigilantes, peasant rebels, ideological purists,- make things more chaotic for everyone by acting on their own authority, whether granted from above or self-acquired, to do what they will. Justinian is sad. Sad.
Holy Roman Catholiphate central europe blob. Comprised of an exceptional number of statelets and criss-crossing crownlands, with a few large ones ala Brandenburg or Austria, all subject to the nominal autocratic rule of God-King Justinian, who does very little ruling. Sleeping giant tendencies; high technical potential, miserly noble procurement sharply stops any rise to said potential, vaguely huge area on and offmap. Dysfunction, decentralization and corruption imported & exacerbated from the Holy Roman Empire, late Rome proper, and the myriad large Islamic states. Tends to be too wrapped up in itself to throw its weight around; occasionally bullies other Westerly states or launches punitive expeditions into the nearer Nagathi states. Theocracy is fanatical and prone to misinterpretation of quite spartanly written passages and quotations. Aristocracy pays outwardly fanatic lip service to the former while faithlessly looking out for their own material gains and preservation of the status quo. The military, comprised from noble retinues, legion-like state formations and levied peasant conscripts alike, is a frequent wildcard. The human common folk live their lives and weather the storm of all this. The nonhuman commonfolk weather things worse. And 'unilaterals' of many classes- witch hunters, flagellants, mercenaries, vigilantes, peasant rebels, ideological purists,- make things more chaotic for everyone by acting on their own authority, whether granted from above or self-acquired, to do what they will. Justinian is sad. Sad.
The Marches: NPC, secondary/minor powers
See above, only regarded as more superficially 'backwards,' sometimes actually so, and less closely observed, while being effectively independent as long as they toe the right lines. Think Bohemia to continue the HRE comparison, Hungary in the early Dual Monarchy, or any old loosely done master-vassal relationship. Keep the opposite sides of impassable Justinian's Crown and the Godspine Mountains secure, ensuring the infeasibility of penetrating the Imperium through the single land pass out. Tend to have to fend for themselves unless things get bad enough that they're getting run roughshod, at which point the Imperium proper will deign to step in.
See above, only regarded as more superficially 'backwards,' sometimes actually so, and less closely observed, while being effectively independent as long as they toe the right lines. Think Bohemia to continue the HRE comparison, Hungary in the early Dual Monarchy, or any old loosely done master-vassal relationship. Keep the opposite sides of impassable Justinian's Crown and the Godspine Mountains secure, ensuring the infeasibility of penetrating the Imperium through the single land pass out. Tend to have to fend for themselves unless things get bad enough that they're getting run roughshod, at which point the Imperium proper will deign to step in.
Vritraprthvirajya: GM/PC, Senor Herp, great power
Near and far eastern cultural hodgepodge of grafted-together autocracies- Indo-Iranic, Indian, Indo-Greek/Byzantine and far Asiatic in Kuzyan, Bhaskara, Elladas-Bakt and Ỵāṇ respectively, subethnicities to possibly follow, plus demihuman peoples- in bizarro mirroring to the human supremacist vassal blob Imperium, yet all linked to a very much more active central government. Said government consists of once-man demons in the so called Circle of Kings, who exist as a ruling class above the ruling class that snatches up the best of the best of the young generations to be groomed for ascension into their numbers. Could be considered to take inspiration from Ganishka's Kushan or a lower fantasy Falconia, and from the general smorgasbord of pulp fantasy Orientalism, and a take on the conception of the earliest possible absolutist proto-fascism. Life is quite nice relatively and objectively speaking from top to bottom as long as you toe the right lines. But there are a great number of lines, and the state is in everything, everywhere, to such a degree that there is little if any black market as opposed to tightly legalized control of what would exist within it, and its ideology of Asuranism is unitary and all-consuming; it is to make all men kings, scorning fate and gods, but reality being what it is, not all can be crowned all at once, and regardless all must go forward with the greatest vigor regardless of position, in lockstep and the control of the next man up the pecking order. 'Coils and chains,' so it goes.
This is the personal creation of one essentially unknown young page of Daigon- himself a 'nature or nurture' experiment in fostering the qualities of rule and intellect- who self-ascended on the eve of Daigon's death, then presented himself to the remnant groups as one of the various shadow-viziers of Daigon with a more coherent plan than 'martyrdom RIGHT NOW' or 'carve out breakaway demesne;' grit teeth, bite bullet, and flee East while drawing the Justinian lines longer and longer 'til they can be repulsed and efforts to reconquer & rebuild can be made. This was a largely successful endeavor, but never as successful as it needed to be. Reasons range from; apocalyptic dark age collapse, the ebb and flow of individual ambitions, breakaways resulting, the immaturity of government hundreds of years ago now past, the shortage of mortal and immortal manpower, and a particularly ill-fated personal union/dual monarchy arrangement with the Naukada Krin. All led to the current state of a state with a quite large core territory, a wide sphere of influence, robust infrastructure, and a mature bureaucracy & military, yet wrestling with intrigue and an ever-enemy in the Kaumntok currently compromising said core territory's security. Even with a demigod leader as a trump card and a class of similar superhumans, they and the former in particular cannot be everywhere at once and do not number enough to ensure victory without cunning, popular will and coherent logistics. So ensues a wait-and-see ethic on the part of said living trump card and lots of fluid border conflict.
Near and far eastern cultural hodgepodge of grafted-together autocracies- Indo-Iranic, Indian, Indo-Greek/Byzantine and far Asiatic in Kuzyan, Bhaskara, Elladas-Bakt and Ỵāṇ respectively, subethnicities to possibly follow, plus demihuman peoples- in bizarro mirroring to the human supremacist vassal blob Imperium, yet all linked to a very much more active central government. Said government consists of once-man demons in the so called Circle of Kings, who exist as a ruling class above the ruling class that snatches up the best of the best of the young generations to be groomed for ascension into their numbers. Could be considered to take inspiration from Ganishka's Kushan or a lower fantasy Falconia, and from the general smorgasbord of pulp fantasy Orientalism, and a take on the conception of the earliest possible absolutist proto-fascism. Life is quite nice relatively and objectively speaking from top to bottom as long as you toe the right lines. But there are a great number of lines, and the state is in everything, everywhere, to such a degree that there is little if any black market as opposed to tightly legalized control of what would exist within it, and its ideology of Asuranism is unitary and all-consuming; it is to make all men kings, scorning fate and gods, but reality being what it is, not all can be crowned all at once, and regardless all must go forward with the greatest vigor regardless of position, in lockstep and the control of the next man up the pecking order. 'Coils and chains,' so it goes.
This is the personal creation of one essentially unknown young page of Daigon- himself a 'nature or nurture' experiment in fostering the qualities of rule and intellect- who self-ascended on the eve of Daigon's death, then presented himself to the remnant groups as one of the various shadow-viziers of Daigon with a more coherent plan than 'martyrdom RIGHT NOW' or 'carve out breakaway demesne;' grit teeth, bite bullet, and flee East while drawing the Justinian lines longer and longer 'til they can be repulsed and efforts to reconquer & rebuild can be made. This was a largely successful endeavor, but never as successful as it needed to be. Reasons range from; apocalyptic dark age collapse, the ebb and flow of individual ambitions, breakaways resulting, the immaturity of government hundreds of years ago now past, the shortage of mortal and immortal manpower, and a particularly ill-fated personal union/dual monarchy arrangement with the Naukada Krin. All led to the current state of a state with a quite large core territory, a wide sphere of influence, robust infrastructure, and a mature bureaucracy & military, yet wrestling with intrigue and an ever-enemy in the Kaumntok currently compromising said core territory's security. Even with a demigod leader as a trump card and a class of similar superhumans, they and the former in particular cannot be everywhere at once and do not number enough to ensure victory without cunning, popular will and coherent logistics. So ensues a wait-and-see ethic on the part of said living trump card and lots of fluid border conflict.
Naukada Kaumntok/Red Empire: NPC, The Nexerus, great power.
Half Mongol Empire and half dynastic China and her tributaries with the resulting implications- backwater, raiding, pillaging, a Son of Heaven, a divine mandate- only as inhabited by orcoids, wild beastmen and weirdcore fantasy demihumans & disfigured human chattel, ruled by a caste of standardized-morphology red orcs, the Naukada, and their living god the Naukada Krin. The Naukada are the result of a dead man's switch of Daigon's devisement; he encoded within his own flesh the alchemic stuff to spawn one final batch of homonculi- the culmination of all the animal men and orc things preceding them- from his dead flesh, or ashes as it turned out, to really stick in the craw of Justinian and his enemies in general even postmortem. This worked out as a smashing success, beside that it made his own servants and successors' lives very, very difficult. The Naukada literally rose out from the inland sea now called Lake Ukha after their maker-god, tearing out of mud wombs to scour the battlefields for arms and make war on the men of the West while bringing the disparate inhuman forces into line. A very spartan truth, although original accounts of such are essentially unknown and unverified, even if theories matching it are bounced around.
Mythologically, Ukha- a usurper deity very thoroughly derived from a genetically memorized though garbled Daigon- sought to bring the creations of the original maker of the world, Shar, into line, after first 'slaying' him (engaging in fervent atheism) and creating the beastkin to worship him (serve as homonculus-janissaries.) Ukha failed and died as Daigon did, and his form 'a twisted mass of all animals to ever walk the land or fly the skies or swim in the sea' (a human timebomb of artificial life communicated through allegoric imagery) was burnt to cinders. The ashes fell on Lake Ukha as is factually true, and the sea flooded with the blood of men and beasts (so as to provide biological energy to the gestation process) but instead upraised Naukada Krin, the Third God and First Orc, who proceeded to lead the beastkin to slay the greatest of the armies of Men and then raise those slain in battle in his own likeness. The Red Orc-Naukada breed emerged from those who stained themselves with blood in the Krin's name and devoted themselves utterly to him, and the rest- called Balor, 'green,'- from those who ate themselves sick on manflesh as the beastkin did. Conceptually correct in that the rest emerged from Daigon's seeking the platonic form of the Red Orcs through his preceding works-in-progress, chronologically inaccurate and fanciful otherwise.
After this formative period and its mythologizing, the Naukada Krin proceeded to eternally and literally reincarnate- or else, the Red Orcs continually saw its leaders claim to have reincarnated from him, more conservatively- and lead the Naukada and their vassals to conquer all of central Nagath and the fertile river valleys running throughout it, waging war on those they believed to be the creations of Shar (Justinian humankind for the most part) and integrating those that were believed to be of Ukha (beastkin and Daigon-preexisting demihumans) while halting further Justinian land forays into those parts of Nagath behind them. And generally making a nuisance or worse of themselves. Briefly, Asurishvara sought and gained the friendship of one of Naukada Krin's incarnations, leading to the union of the Naukada Kaumntok and Vritraprthvirajya, but after a long series of disagreements on how to run a campaign frontline, an occupation authority, or how cautious or rash to be in strategy, this ended in severe violence during the Night of Bitter Chains at the furthest extent of advance, the Vigil Tower. Each denying the others' divinity- the Krin naming Asurishvara as a bothersome man and no more, Asurishvara calling the Krin as naked emperor to savage tinker toy men- Asurishvara drew steel and mortally wounded the Krin in combat, while the Krin's servants raced to inform his forces, and both armies turned on each other. Captives were taken, and slaves were made of them; united Nagath fell apart overnight; and the dying Krin's delirious bemoanings, including that of all men being 'Shar's traitors,' led them to their current state of 'no man can be trusted.' Thereafter, the Kaumntok wilted somewhat in many respects in their isolation, but is far too deeply rooted for anyone to remove.
Half Mongol Empire and half dynastic China and her tributaries with the resulting implications- backwater, raiding, pillaging, a Son of Heaven, a divine mandate- only as inhabited by orcoids, wild beastmen and weirdcore fantasy demihumans & disfigured human chattel, ruled by a caste of standardized-morphology red orcs, the Naukada, and their living god the Naukada Krin. The Naukada are the result of a dead man's switch of Daigon's devisement; he encoded within his own flesh the alchemic stuff to spawn one final batch of homonculi- the culmination of all the animal men and orc things preceding them- from his dead flesh, or ashes as it turned out, to really stick in the craw of Justinian and his enemies in general even postmortem. This worked out as a smashing success, beside that it made his own servants and successors' lives very, very difficult. The Naukada literally rose out from the inland sea now called Lake Ukha after their maker-god, tearing out of mud wombs to scour the battlefields for arms and make war on the men of the West while bringing the disparate inhuman forces into line. A very spartan truth, although original accounts of such are essentially unknown and unverified, even if theories matching it are bounced around.
Mythologically, Ukha- a usurper deity very thoroughly derived from a genetically memorized though garbled Daigon- sought to bring the creations of the original maker of the world, Shar, into line, after first 'slaying' him (engaging in fervent atheism) and creating the beastkin to worship him (serve as homonculus-janissaries.) Ukha failed and died as Daigon did, and his form 'a twisted mass of all animals to ever walk the land or fly the skies or swim in the sea' (a human timebomb of artificial life communicated through allegoric imagery) was burnt to cinders. The ashes fell on Lake Ukha as is factually true, and the sea flooded with the blood of men and beasts (so as to provide biological energy to the gestation process) but instead upraised Naukada Krin, the Third God and First Orc, who proceeded to lead the beastkin to slay the greatest of the armies of Men and then raise those slain in battle in his own likeness. The Red Orc-Naukada breed emerged from those who stained themselves with blood in the Krin's name and devoted themselves utterly to him, and the rest- called Balor, 'green,'- from those who ate themselves sick on manflesh as the beastkin did. Conceptually correct in that the rest emerged from Daigon's seeking the platonic form of the Red Orcs through his preceding works-in-progress, chronologically inaccurate and fanciful otherwise.
After this formative period and its mythologizing, the Naukada Krin proceeded to eternally and literally reincarnate- or else, the Red Orcs continually saw its leaders claim to have reincarnated from him, more conservatively- and lead the Naukada and their vassals to conquer all of central Nagath and the fertile river valleys running throughout it, waging war on those they believed to be the creations of Shar (Justinian humankind for the most part) and integrating those that were believed to be of Ukha (beastkin and Daigon-preexisting demihumans) while halting further Justinian land forays into those parts of Nagath behind them. And generally making a nuisance or worse of themselves. Briefly, Asurishvara sought and gained the friendship of one of Naukada Krin's incarnations, leading to the union of the Naukada Kaumntok and Vritraprthvirajya, but after a long series of disagreements on how to run a campaign frontline, an occupation authority, or how cautious or rash to be in strategy, this ended in severe violence during the Night of Bitter Chains at the furthest extent of advance, the Vigil Tower. Each denying the others' divinity- the Krin naming Asurishvara as a bothersome man and no more, Asurishvara calling the Krin as naked emperor to savage tinker toy men- Asurishvara drew steel and mortally wounded the Krin in combat, while the Krin's servants raced to inform his forces, and both armies turned on each other. Captives were taken, and slaves were made of them; united Nagath fell apart overnight; and the dying Krin's delirious bemoanings, including that of all men being 'Shar's traitors,' led them to their current state of 'no man can be trusted.' Thereafter, the Kaumntok wilted somewhat in many respects in their isolation, but is far too deeply rooted for anyone to remove.
Note on factions: If one falls to inactivity or in the lack of a return, a faction will revert to NPC status if necessary, to be controlled by the GM and other players until the original player returns. Run concepts by publically to start, in-depth with one or both the two GMs initially, before bringing a sheet in progress into public view.
Faction Name: [The definite, official title of your state or organization.]
Alias: [Everything else. Variants, nicknames, bywords, slurs.]
Government Type: [Factions PC or NPC generally range from Nagathi successor states to warlord realms, pocket dictatorships, petty kingdoms, violently acquired feudal demesnes, cults of influence, or individuals of power established in the bleak spaces on the fringe of civilization, in the ruins of the last one. Generally anti-villainous to straight villainous spectrum, with a bit of anti-heroism. This does not, however, mean the characters will view themselves as such.]
Faction Species: [Custom species allowed. Run by GMs for concepting & approval. Ideal but not obligatory format is; Faction Species header, individual hider-headers, descriptions inside. Subraces or ethnicities go in subhiders.]
Species Descriptions: [Legacy section. Included simply because someone might want to break it up like this, although I wouldn't.]
Territory Details: [Settlements and their organization & general location, geography, order of industry.]
Faction Religion/Ideology: [Religious or secular ideal(s) that motivate the state and its people, or at least despotically preside over them.]
Faction Description: [Elevator pitch. Is likely doomed to redundancy with one or more of the other sections, but still necessary to get into the frame of 'this is it in a nutshell.']
Faction History: [Flesh out your surrounding and the wider world to a degree as you go here. Initially, this should be just the basics, and your manifest of 'this is what I want to have happened.' Later, after collaboration between players, it will hopefully resemble an actual excerpted timeline of relevant events.]
Important Characters: [From the start, this is more or less bound to be individuals leadership and not too much else. Given time, it should also include recurrent perspective characters.]
Relations to other Factions: [Include off-maps and NPCs if or as relevant; include even currently irrelevant player factions to whatever minor degree you can conceive a connection by, by trade route or sphere of half-informed local thought, if only to have the formatting of that nation relation done for later.]
Faction Name: [The definite, official title of your state or organization.]
Alias: [Everything else. Variants, nicknames, bywords, slurs.]
Government Type: [Factions PC or NPC generally range from Nagathi successor states to warlord realms, pocket dictatorships, petty kingdoms, violently acquired feudal demesnes, cults of influence, or individuals of power established in the bleak spaces on the fringe of civilization, in the ruins of the last one. Generally anti-villainous to straight villainous spectrum, with a bit of anti-heroism. This does not, however, mean the characters will view themselves as such.]
Faction Species: [Custom species allowed. Run by GMs for concepting & approval. Ideal but not obligatory format is; Faction Species header, individual hider-headers, descriptions inside. Subraces or ethnicities go in subhiders.]
Species Descriptions: [Legacy section. Included simply because someone might want to break it up like this, although I wouldn't.]
Territory Details: [Settlements and their organization & general location, geography, order of industry.]
Faction Religion/Ideology: [Religious or secular ideal(s) that motivate the state and its people, or at least despotically preside over them.]
Faction Description: [Elevator pitch. Is likely doomed to redundancy with one or more of the other sections, but still necessary to get into the frame of 'this is it in a nutshell.']
Faction History: [Flesh out your surrounding and the wider world to a degree as you go here. Initially, this should be just the basics, and your manifest of 'this is what I want to have happened.' Later, after collaboration between players, it will hopefully resemble an actual excerpted timeline of relevant events.]
Important Characters: [From the start, this is more or less bound to be individuals leadership and not too much else. Given time, it should also include recurrent perspective characters.]
Relations to other Factions: [Include off-maps and NPCs if or as relevant; include even currently irrelevant player factions to whatever minor degree you can conceive a connection by, by trade route or sphere of half-informed local thought, if only to have the formatting of that nation relation done for later.]
Current Discord here.
