PRINCESS-CHAMPIONS OF HYPERBOREA
A Game of Fellowship
"In the deepest matters of the Bazaar, look to love. Always."
"Hither came Oberon, white-haired, night-eyed, sword in hand, a thief, a reaver, a monster, with gigantic melancholies and gigantic mirth, to tread the jeweled thrones of the earth under his riding-boots."
"Then turn selfishness into a weapon! Make all things yours! Make other lives and dreams and hopes yours! Protect them! Save them! Bring them into the sheepfold! Walk the gale for them! Keep away the wolf! My dreams! My brother! My family! My land! My world! How dare you try to take these things, because they are mine! I have a duty!"
"Everyone here is a princess! I'm, like, the only one who's not a princess."
"Hither came Oberon, white-haired, night-eyed, sword in hand, a thief, a reaver, a monster, with gigantic melancholies and gigantic mirth, to tread the jeweled thrones of the earth under his riding-boots."
"Then turn selfishness into a weapon! Make all things yours! Make other lives and dreams and hopes yours! Protect them! Save them! Bring them into the sheepfold! Walk the gale for them! Keep away the wolf! My dreams! My brother! My family! My land! My world! How dare you try to take these things, because they are mine! I have a duty!"
"Everyone here is a princess! I'm, like, the only one who's not a princess."
STARRING
Phoe as Princess Alina Cascade of Ilumina, the Lantern
Thanqol as Princess Adila of the Watch, the Dragon
AND
Anarion as Princess Kazelia Swiftlance, the Harbinger
SEEKING TO DEFEAT
Tatterdemalion as Oberon Greymane, the Overlord
Phoe as Princess Alina Cascade of Ilumina, the Lantern
Thanqol as Princess Adila of the Watch, the Dragon
AND
Anarion as Princess Kazelia Swiftlance, the Harbinger
SEEKING TO DEFEAT
Tatterdemalion as Oberon Greymane, the Overlord
There is a snake curled around the whole wide world. Her name is Ouroboros, and she is so big that it's hard to believe your eyes the first time that you see her. You'll say to yourself, "goodness, someone built a very big wall on the coast of whatever land we're approaching!" Then you'll say, "someone built a wall to split the sea in half: this side and that side." Then you'll get closer still, and you'll see bronze scales the size of palaces, rising up out of the sea, and you'll have to sit down to take it all in - that this is Ouroboros, and her belly rests upon the sea floor while her back rubs up against the sky. Within her coils lies Hyperborea, and that a world enough to satisfy anyone.*
In the winter-time, the short days and the long nights of fur cloaks and wonderful spectacles in ice, there came cresting over Ouroboros's vast back a King. Stars fell from their thrones in the velvet dark of his eyes, and a wind from the deep vaults of winter kissed his pale cheeks. He didn't come alone! Behind him came his children, and his court, and all of his people, each one carrying their livelihoods with them. It's not my place to say where they came from, or even if they came from someplace at all, but I can say that when their King looked out upon Hyperborea far below, a fierce and jealous love woke in his cold breast, and he sighed in reverie.
He told the child he favored most, a witch of winter night, to take wing alongside him, that together they could make a survey of the world which lay beneath them. So she put on her cloak of feathers and became a barn owl, while he became the North Wind which bore her along, though from time to time he would become a great black he-eagle or a sleek-backed wolf or a wickedly handsome man, whichever suited him right at that moment. Where that wind blew the shutters blew right open and the frost's fingers crawled in; the pipes burst and the bare-branched trees moaned and cracked; the waves of the Hyperborean Sea boiled cold and furious and marched up upon the shore. And as they went along together, whenever the witch saw something beautiful and wonderful, the sort of thing that Hyperborea is wonderfully rich in, she would call her father's eye to it, and he would sigh and say, "ah, I love it," or, "ah, I must have it," and by both meant the same thing.
By spiraling paths they finally came to Argossa, the mountain whose roots bind Hyperborea together, the tree whose shining stone limbs press up against the roof of the sky; and here the witch fell away, unable to match her father in swiftness and power. About each branch of the mountain-tree the wind curled like a cat, moaning professions of ardor and desire and possession, and soon enough the King saw nesting within the highest branches the silver chariot of the Moon, with twelve gleaming mares in its traces, and he leaped right to it, his fingers tickling their flanks, his breath holding the chariot fast, for at once he loved it and meant to have it, not for its use but simply to know that it was his.
But the Moon had come to Argossa, as it did every night, to stop and have a midnight dinner with Ourania, who is queen above all other queens, who cares for Hyperborea as the gardener cares for her wildest flowers, with a light hand and a gentle word, and yet who can bear the touch of the sun and the moon when they kiss her farewell, brushing their burning lips against the back of her dark hand or upon her perfect cheek, and who knows the secret love-names of the sea and the sky. And when the King's eye fell upon her, a deep and terrible yearning yawned open within his frozen heart, fiercer and more perilous than anything that night had yet witnessed.
Yet Ourania’s eyes flashed with sudden fire, which pierced him there and held him fast, having had the knowing of him at once; for she sat in Argossa, the wellspring of her power and the turning-point of the world. At once the King became a huge and lovely serpent as fine as a treasure-casket, with wicked coils to hold her fast and close, and she became the secretary-bird and had him right by the neck. Then he was the true black dart which pierces the breast of the bird on the wing, and she was the quiver which caught the dart fast and made it harmless. Then he was the black moth which devours and consumes whatever it falls upon, and she was the night-bird which catches the moth with its song. At every turn she had the best of him, until he had to use all of his cunning and swiftness just to fall headlong down Argossa's slopes with nothing but his pride in tatters and that yearning as sharp as a knife buried in his breast.
Howling and keening he fell upon Hyperborea as a hideous gale, overturning ships and uprooting groves, snatching up anything he caught only to toss it aside many miles distant. But the wise shut their doors tight against him, and Ourania set her own southerly winds to fox him and undo him at every turn, and come the dawn he was just a man once more, shabbily dressed and run ragged in his shame and defeat, burning with the perverse desire to have precisely that which one is denied, which cannot be contented, not even if you stack the whole wide world on the other side of the scales.
And it just so happened that as he stumbled along like a blind man, undone in his self-inflicted torment, a princess came riding by with her companions, warmly cloaked and gilded in various treasures of the kingdom of Jedad, against which they had just been on campaign. Seeing the King and mistaking him for a drunk or a victim of misfortune, she told her companions that they should hold a moment and try to lift his spirits with gay jests and fine company. This was a mistake, as thinking himself the object of mockery, the King drew his blade and knocked the princess straight down, and when her companions flew to her defense, he knocked them straight down too. Then his eyes shone all full of falling stars, and in a terrible fear, the princess offered up all of their spoils as ransom, that he might straight away release her into the care of her mother, the queen of that very land. And to this, the King composed himself and said:
"No. Go and tell your mother that her daughter has cost her a kingdom. Before the day is over, I will come and take it from her. Her throne will be my throne, and her lands will be my lands. I will drive her subjects out, so that my own subjects may have a home to call their own. My name is Oberon Greymane. Remember it, for you will hear much more of me now that I am here at last, in this beautiful and beloved world."
And as he said, so has it come to pass. And now it should be springtime, the early thaw, but winter is fighting back tooth and nail, because it loves Oberon Greymane like it loves no one else, and it follows where the Riders go on their black horses, their laughter like bells chiming on a glass bridle, and no princess may stand before them, for they are the champions forged beyond the bounds of Ouroboros.
*The dragons say that beyond Ouroboros is formless night, and beyond the night, worlds uncharted. But their accounts are hardly unbiased.
In the winter-time, the short days and the long nights of fur cloaks and wonderful spectacles in ice, there came cresting over Ouroboros's vast back a King. Stars fell from their thrones in the velvet dark of his eyes, and a wind from the deep vaults of winter kissed his pale cheeks. He didn't come alone! Behind him came his children, and his court, and all of his people, each one carrying their livelihoods with them. It's not my place to say where they came from, or even if they came from someplace at all, but I can say that when their King looked out upon Hyperborea far below, a fierce and jealous love woke in his cold breast, and he sighed in reverie.
He told the child he favored most, a witch of winter night, to take wing alongside him, that together they could make a survey of the world which lay beneath them. So she put on her cloak of feathers and became a barn owl, while he became the North Wind which bore her along, though from time to time he would become a great black he-eagle or a sleek-backed wolf or a wickedly handsome man, whichever suited him right at that moment. Where that wind blew the shutters blew right open and the frost's fingers crawled in; the pipes burst and the bare-branched trees moaned and cracked; the waves of the Hyperborean Sea boiled cold and furious and marched up upon the shore. And as they went along together, whenever the witch saw something beautiful and wonderful, the sort of thing that Hyperborea is wonderfully rich in, she would call her father's eye to it, and he would sigh and say, "ah, I love it," or, "ah, I must have it," and by both meant the same thing.
By spiraling paths they finally came to Argossa, the mountain whose roots bind Hyperborea together, the tree whose shining stone limbs press up against the roof of the sky; and here the witch fell away, unable to match her father in swiftness and power. About each branch of the mountain-tree the wind curled like a cat, moaning professions of ardor and desire and possession, and soon enough the King saw nesting within the highest branches the silver chariot of the Moon, with twelve gleaming mares in its traces, and he leaped right to it, his fingers tickling their flanks, his breath holding the chariot fast, for at once he loved it and meant to have it, not for its use but simply to know that it was his.
But the Moon had come to Argossa, as it did every night, to stop and have a midnight dinner with Ourania, who is queen above all other queens, who cares for Hyperborea as the gardener cares for her wildest flowers, with a light hand and a gentle word, and yet who can bear the touch of the sun and the moon when they kiss her farewell, brushing their burning lips against the back of her dark hand or upon her perfect cheek, and who knows the secret love-names of the sea and the sky. And when the King's eye fell upon her, a deep and terrible yearning yawned open within his frozen heart, fiercer and more perilous than anything that night had yet witnessed.
Yet Ourania’s eyes flashed with sudden fire, which pierced him there and held him fast, having had the knowing of him at once; for she sat in Argossa, the wellspring of her power and the turning-point of the world. At once the King became a huge and lovely serpent as fine as a treasure-casket, with wicked coils to hold her fast and close, and she became the secretary-bird and had him right by the neck. Then he was the true black dart which pierces the breast of the bird on the wing, and she was the quiver which caught the dart fast and made it harmless. Then he was the black moth which devours and consumes whatever it falls upon, and she was the night-bird which catches the moth with its song. At every turn she had the best of him, until he had to use all of his cunning and swiftness just to fall headlong down Argossa's slopes with nothing but his pride in tatters and that yearning as sharp as a knife buried in his breast.
Howling and keening he fell upon Hyperborea as a hideous gale, overturning ships and uprooting groves, snatching up anything he caught only to toss it aside many miles distant. But the wise shut their doors tight against him, and Ourania set her own southerly winds to fox him and undo him at every turn, and come the dawn he was just a man once more, shabbily dressed and run ragged in his shame and defeat, burning with the perverse desire to have precisely that which one is denied, which cannot be contented, not even if you stack the whole wide world on the other side of the scales.
And it just so happened that as he stumbled along like a blind man, undone in his self-inflicted torment, a princess came riding by with her companions, warmly cloaked and gilded in various treasures of the kingdom of Jedad, against which they had just been on campaign. Seeing the King and mistaking him for a drunk or a victim of misfortune, she told her companions that they should hold a moment and try to lift his spirits with gay jests and fine company. This was a mistake, as thinking himself the object of mockery, the King drew his blade and knocked the princess straight down, and when her companions flew to her defense, he knocked them straight down too. Then his eyes shone all full of falling stars, and in a terrible fear, the princess offered up all of their spoils as ransom, that he might straight away release her into the care of her mother, the queen of that very land. And to this, the King composed himself and said:
"No. Go and tell your mother that her daughter has cost her a kingdom. Before the day is over, I will come and take it from her. Her throne will be my throne, and her lands will be my lands. I will drive her subjects out, so that my own subjects may have a home to call their own. My name is Oberon Greymane. Remember it, for you will hear much more of me now that I am here at last, in this beautiful and beloved world."
And as he said, so has it come to pass. And now it should be springtime, the early thaw, but winter is fighting back tooth and nail, because it loves Oberon Greymane like it loves no one else, and it follows where the Riders go on their black horses, their laughter like bells chiming on a glass bridle, and no princess may stand before them, for they are the champions forged beyond the bounds of Ouroboros.
*The dragons say that beyond Ouroboros is formless night, and beyond the night, worlds uncharted. But their accounts are hardly unbiased.
HYPERBOREA
Hyperborea is flat, and bounded on every side by Ouroboros, the world serpent who holds her tail in her mouth. From its heart grows the mountain Argossa, the stone-tree whose veins are shot through with living jewels. Nestled among its branches is the palace of High Queen Ourania, who holds authority over the kingdoms and domains of all Hyperborea. At noon she has tea made ready for the sun, at midnight she has a very late dinner made ready for the moon, and it is for this reason that the clocks of Hyperborea must by necessity be clever enough to know when to take a break themselves while the charioteers of heaven talk with their hostess about what they have seen on their journeys.
Hyperborea is blessed with a rich tapestry of cultures, all sorts of talking folk, an embarrassment of natural resources, and an abundance of magical princesses. Living magic flows through Hyperborea much like blood through a body, and in this metaphor, Argossa serves as the heart; the aesthetics of tapping into that magic differ from kingdom to kingdom, but crystals are a very popular choice. (Indeed, “laser” weapons, generated by magic crystals, are a common sight in certain parts of Hyperborea.)
The default of government is the matriarchy. This may have something to do with the fact that the High Queen is ageless as the hills and has a vital role in caring for Hyperborea's magic; queens are therefore seen as partaking in the authority of the High Queen, and (sometimes quite literally) focal points for their kingdom's magic. This means, then, that there are, as aforementioned, an abundance of magical princesses in Hyperborea.
Naturally, being a princess comes with expectations! The ideal princess is vital and strong, overflowing with the fecund Blood of her people; she is brave and steadfast, proving her Courage on the battlefield; she is eloquent and sure-footed, displaying her Grace before all; she is clever and truly observes the world around her with common Sense; and she possesses the Wisdom to distinguish wicked action from virtue. Their education commonly combines combat and survival training with academic study of Hyperborea, and every princess is expected to both be a champion of her people on and off the battlefield and prepared to take on the burdens and responsibilities of rule, should she be called to do so. Who launches raids into enemy territory for the glory of their lineage? The princess. Who attends feasts and galas in order to socialize with foreigners they may one day count as equals or rivals? The princess. Who drives off monsters, helps rebuild in the wake of natural disasters, and acts as an aspirational ideal for their citizens? The princess.
Now, the Hyperboreans are, by and large, quite singular in the way they wage war: with such bountiful natural resources available to every kingdom worth the name, conflicts are more personal and impulsive, with a focus on raids, humiliation of one's rivals, and counting coup over conquest and slaughter. An aspiring princess-champion might lead a band of companions into a rival country, find their queen's cattle herd, disarm and subdue the herdsmen, and then seek to prove her cunning and skill by driving the whole herd home without being caught - and were her pursuers to catch her, the ensuing melee would likely be to first blood and the ransom of anyone on the losing side who didn't leg it quickly enough. Arms and armor are expressions of one's own persona more than simple tools of violence, and death by simple misadventure is more likely than death on the battlefield.
RIDERS
The Riders are from beyond Ouroboros, and wherever they came from must be very cold indeed. They bring winter with them where'er their roving takes them: the howling gale, the blinding blizzard, the ice that bursts the pipes, and the chill that touches blood and bone alike. If their King cements his rule over Hyperborea, it will- to steal a turn of phrase- be always winter, never Ridersmas. As a general rule, they are cruel and domineering (though perhaps because of the influence of their king), and love to possess pretty things, especially if someone previously [owned or dated] them, delete as applicable. And, unfortunately for Hyperborea, they are dangerous and skillful combatants.
Their hair is white as snow and their eyes are deep night, full of wheeling alien stars. Their liveries are blue and black, and their weapons hum and sigh disconcertingly in the hand. They are cold as ice to the touch, and their teeth are the fangs of the predator. Their laughter sounds like silver bells being shaken on a glass bridle. Their beauty is terrible, their terror is beautiful.
Other than that? They really are just people, and it's not impossible to imagine a future in which they form a vital part of Hyperborea's rich tapestry. The trick is figuring out how to thaw their frozen hearts, how to teach them friendship, and how to not be subjugated and have your treasures stolen in the meantime.
Their King, Oberon Greymane, has overrun a kingdom entire, imprisoned its queen and turned the beautiful Castle Thessia into an ice-bound fortress from which the Riders issue forth on their many raids against the rest of Hyperborea. This would all be worrying enough, but worse is the fact that, ever since his arrival in Hyperborea, he has sent messages to the High Queen daily, which veer wildly between threats and flirtations. After all, Riders do enjoy owning pretty things, no matter their opinions on the matter.
OBERON GREYMANE
The Heart of Winter. The Robber King. The Shadow Dancer. King of the Riders, first over Ouroboros's nigh-impassable back, handsome and quick to laughter, yet covetous and arrogant in equal measure. Has an uncomfortable amount of Hot Dad Energy. If he usurps Ourania’s throne in Argossa's branches, you won't need a weather forecast anymore: snow upcoming for the next seven hundred years.
Agenda: Ultimate Power. Hyperborea gets colder by the day. Riders go where they please, seeking beautiful things to steal and carry off to their king, humiliating every champion who dares stand up to them. Soon, if not checked, Oberon will feel confident enough - and potent enough - to challenge Ourania’s champions directly, and then there shall be winter without end.
Army: The Organization. Your average Rider isn't a threat to a Princess-Champion at all. Again, they're mostly just people, if an alien people. No, his army consists largely of his children, the princesses (and prince) of the Riders, equal to any challenge he sets before them.
General: Princess Azora Howl. Presently most favored of Oberon's children, Azora Howl is the foremost witch of the Riders, and maintains her position as her father's second-in-command by tactical use of her siblings and the careful unraveling of various protective spells wrapped around Hyperborea and Argossa.
Weakness: The Dolorous Song. Sing before him a song that makes him weep. Undo his justifications and self-confidence, make him feel regret and shame for what he has done, leave him a tired and friendless old man, and his power will melt like the spring thaw. Complications keeping Thanqol from speedrunning Fellowship: the composition and appropriate performance of such a song, as well as getting him to stay and listen after the first performance clotheslines him. Yes, I am singing Hadestown lyrics right now and you can’t stop me
THE FELLOWSHIP
Let me just stop you here a moment. Most princesses, most champions of Hyperborea? They're busy. There are repairs that need to be made after those terrible winter storms, their homeland needs them to stand up to these brash new outsiders (but our princess will totally win, their people say, unlike all those other ones), and in short, they have their own problems. They just haven't looked up and realized that their problems are all the fault of the King of the Riders, and that this problem is too big for any one kingdom to handle alone.
That you're part of the Fellowship instead of being at home means something. It means that someone - maybe you, maybe your mother, maybe the witches of Hecatia - knew that if you didn't do something to stop Oberon Greymane, then all of Hyperborea would fall. Or it means that you've already got skin in the game, you've already been defeated by the Riders before, your kingdom is still in the grip of winter instead of turning to spring's thaw. Maybe your mother even swore fealty to or made an alliance with the Riders, and you've gone renegade because it's the right thing to do, rather than the easy thing. Heck. Maybe you're even the first princess who lost to Oberon Greymane, the one who made a terrible mistake by trying to be a good samaritan.
By Hyperborean standards, you're already a pretty impressive fighting force, being three different Princesses in alliance with your retinues and your treasures. This isn't unprecedented by any means, though! Team-ups are a classic tradition of the Hyperborean saga, and you can probably rattle off stories about three-Princess teams- just be aware that when you roll in people are going to notice the fact that you're in a team-up. Heck, it might even be enough to let you stand up to those dastardly Riders!
The standard gameplay loop for this game will likely be fighting over Sources of Power, trying to keep them out of Oberon's clutches while also making daring forays into Rider-held kingdoms to free them of his control. Remember that taking a SoP will allow you to erase one of the Overlord's stats, while the Overlord taking a SoP allows him to add another stat to his sheet. There will also be episodes like "the Crystal Gala" and "the Riders took our little siblings hostage!" and "the Dueling Championship you must not let the Riders win." Probably also "secret date night with your new Rider girlfriend which Oberon must not find out about."
Hyperborea is flat, and bounded on every side by Ouroboros, the world serpent who holds her tail in her mouth. From its heart grows the mountain Argossa, the stone-tree whose veins are shot through with living jewels. Nestled among its branches is the palace of High Queen Ourania, who holds authority over the kingdoms and domains of all Hyperborea. At noon she has tea made ready for the sun, at midnight she has a very late dinner made ready for the moon, and it is for this reason that the clocks of Hyperborea must by necessity be clever enough to know when to take a break themselves while the charioteers of heaven talk with their hostess about what they have seen on their journeys.
Hyperborea is blessed with a rich tapestry of cultures, all sorts of talking folk, an embarrassment of natural resources, and an abundance of magical princesses. Living magic flows through Hyperborea much like blood through a body, and in this metaphor, Argossa serves as the heart; the aesthetics of tapping into that magic differ from kingdom to kingdom, but crystals are a very popular choice. (Indeed, “laser” weapons, generated by magic crystals, are a common sight in certain parts of Hyperborea.)
The default of government is the matriarchy. This may have something to do with the fact that the High Queen is ageless as the hills and has a vital role in caring for Hyperborea's magic; queens are therefore seen as partaking in the authority of the High Queen, and (sometimes quite literally) focal points for their kingdom's magic. This means, then, that there are, as aforementioned, an abundance of magical princesses in Hyperborea.
Naturally, being a princess comes with expectations! The ideal princess is vital and strong, overflowing with the fecund Blood of her people; she is brave and steadfast, proving her Courage on the battlefield; she is eloquent and sure-footed, displaying her Grace before all; she is clever and truly observes the world around her with common Sense; and she possesses the Wisdom to distinguish wicked action from virtue. Their education commonly combines combat and survival training with academic study of Hyperborea, and every princess is expected to both be a champion of her people on and off the battlefield and prepared to take on the burdens and responsibilities of rule, should she be called to do so. Who launches raids into enemy territory for the glory of their lineage? The princess. Who attends feasts and galas in order to socialize with foreigners they may one day count as equals or rivals? The princess. Who drives off monsters, helps rebuild in the wake of natural disasters, and acts as an aspirational ideal for their citizens? The princess.
Now, the Hyperboreans are, by and large, quite singular in the way they wage war: with such bountiful natural resources available to every kingdom worth the name, conflicts are more personal and impulsive, with a focus on raids, humiliation of one's rivals, and counting coup over conquest and slaughter. An aspiring princess-champion might lead a band of companions into a rival country, find their queen's cattle herd, disarm and subdue the herdsmen, and then seek to prove her cunning and skill by driving the whole herd home without being caught - and were her pursuers to catch her, the ensuing melee would likely be to first blood and the ransom of anyone on the losing side who didn't leg it quickly enough. Arms and armor are expressions of one's own persona more than simple tools of violence, and death by simple misadventure is more likely than death on the battlefield.
RIDERS
The Riders are from beyond Ouroboros, and wherever they came from must be very cold indeed. They bring winter with them where'er their roving takes them: the howling gale, the blinding blizzard, the ice that bursts the pipes, and the chill that touches blood and bone alike. If their King cements his rule over Hyperborea, it will- to steal a turn of phrase- be always winter, never Ridersmas. As a general rule, they are cruel and domineering (though perhaps because of the influence of their king), and love to possess pretty things, especially if someone previously [owned or dated] them, delete as applicable. And, unfortunately for Hyperborea, they are dangerous and skillful combatants.
Their hair is white as snow and their eyes are deep night, full of wheeling alien stars. Their liveries are blue and black, and their weapons hum and sigh disconcertingly in the hand. They are cold as ice to the touch, and their teeth are the fangs of the predator. Their laughter sounds like silver bells being shaken on a glass bridle. Their beauty is terrible, their terror is beautiful.
Other than that? They really are just people, and it's not impossible to imagine a future in which they form a vital part of Hyperborea's rich tapestry. The trick is figuring out how to thaw their frozen hearts, how to teach them friendship, and how to not be subjugated and have your treasures stolen in the meantime.
Their King, Oberon Greymane, has overrun a kingdom entire, imprisoned its queen and turned the beautiful Castle Thessia into an ice-bound fortress from which the Riders issue forth on their many raids against the rest of Hyperborea. This would all be worrying enough, but worse is the fact that, ever since his arrival in Hyperborea, he has sent messages to the High Queen daily, which veer wildly between threats and flirtations. After all, Riders do enjoy owning pretty things, no matter their opinions on the matter.
OBERON GREYMANE
The Heart of Winter. The Robber King. The Shadow Dancer. King of the Riders, first over Ouroboros's nigh-impassable back, handsome and quick to laughter, yet covetous and arrogant in equal measure. Has an uncomfortable amount of Hot Dad Energy. If he usurps Ourania’s throne in Argossa's branches, you won't need a weather forecast anymore: snow upcoming for the next seven hundred years.
- UNQUESTIONED KING OF THE RIDERS - like it or not, by the ancient codes of Hyperborea, the queens of Hyperborea have to treat Oberon as a peer, and no Rider would ever disobey or question an order from their King. (SoP: Castle Thessia)
- WINTER'S PANOPLY - some of the things he carries are undeniably from places that are not Hyperborea, and others are wonders that he has stolen from the kingdoms of Hyperborea and turned to his own ends: the abhorrent wonder-knife Yearning/Echidna, the unbreakable ribbon-spear Pearlion, the black eclipse-bow Blinding, the rippling night-cloak Kthos, the writhing blade-tattoos of Ynloc-Athera...
- MASTER OF SHAPES AND SEEMINGS - he can, at a whim, become a howling gale, a great grey wolf, a child, a giant, or you, even. Those night-filled eyes never change, but he can lay a spell upon you such that you don't notice until it's too late...
Agenda: Ultimate Power. Hyperborea gets colder by the day. Riders go where they please, seeking beautiful things to steal and carry off to their king, humiliating every champion who dares stand up to them. Soon, if not checked, Oberon will feel confident enough - and potent enough - to challenge Ourania’s champions directly, and then there shall be winter without end.
Army: The Organization. Your average Rider isn't a threat to a Princess-Champion at all. Again, they're mostly just people, if an alien people. No, his army consists largely of his children, the princesses (and prince) of the Riders, equal to any challenge he sets before them.
General: Princess Azora Howl. Presently most favored of Oberon's children, Azora Howl is the foremost witch of the Riders, and maintains her position as her father's second-in-command by tactical use of her siblings and the careful unraveling of various protective spells wrapped around Hyperborea and Argossa.
Weakness: The Dolorous Song. Sing before him a song that makes him weep. Undo his justifications and self-confidence, make him feel regret and shame for what he has done, leave him a tired and friendless old man, and his power will melt like the spring thaw. Complications keeping Thanqol from speedrunning Fellowship: the composition and appropriate performance of such a song, as well as getting him to stay and listen after the first performance clotheslines him. Yes, I am singing Hadestown lyrics right now and you can’t stop me
THE FELLOWSHIP
Let me just stop you here a moment. Most princesses, most champions of Hyperborea? They're busy. There are repairs that need to be made after those terrible winter storms, their homeland needs them to stand up to these brash new outsiders (but our princess will totally win, their people say, unlike all those other ones), and in short, they have their own problems. They just haven't looked up and realized that their problems are all the fault of the King of the Riders, and that this problem is too big for any one kingdom to handle alone.
That you're part of the Fellowship instead of being at home means something. It means that someone - maybe you, maybe your mother, maybe the witches of Hecatia - knew that if you didn't do something to stop Oberon Greymane, then all of Hyperborea would fall. Or it means that you've already got skin in the game, you've already been defeated by the Riders before, your kingdom is still in the grip of winter instead of turning to spring's thaw. Maybe your mother even swore fealty to or made an alliance with the Riders, and you've gone renegade because it's the right thing to do, rather than the easy thing. Heck. Maybe you're even the first princess who lost to Oberon Greymane, the one who made a terrible mistake by trying to be a good samaritan.
By Hyperborean standards, you're already a pretty impressive fighting force, being three different Princesses in alliance with your retinues and your treasures. This isn't unprecedented by any means, though! Team-ups are a classic tradition of the Hyperborean saga, and you can probably rattle off stories about three-Princess teams- just be aware that when you roll in people are going to notice the fact that you're in a team-up. Heck, it might even be enough to let you stand up to those dastardly Riders!
The standard gameplay loop for this game will likely be fighting over Sources of Power, trying to keep them out of Oberon's clutches while also making daring forays into Rider-held kingdoms to free them of his control. Remember that taking a SoP will allow you to erase one of the Overlord's stats, while the Overlord taking a SoP allows him to add another stat to his sheet. There will also be episodes like "the Crystal Gala" and "the Riders took our little siblings hostage!" and "the Dueling Championship you must not let the Riders win." Probably also "secret date night with your new Rider girlfriend which Oberon must not find out about."
HYPERBOREAN ETYMOLOGY
The name Hyperborea was intentionally chosen, or else retroactively became meaningful, or both. In the classical Greek tradition, it meant the land beyond the North Wind, an idyllic paradise beyond the world we know. Our Hyperborea is a land beyond the ordinary world, a paradise of merry wars and benevolent verdancy, and the North Wind - in the form of the King of the Riders - has finally arrived.
THE PRETTY PRINCESS PRINCIPLE
If there is a disconnect between the way your playbook describes a move or gear option - heck, even the tags - and your vision of being a pretty princess, your vision always gets priority. Just signpost the change and if it causes any problems, that's on me to bring up. Fellowship was designed to be generic player-detailed fantasy, and it needs tweaking to bring it in line with a strong and consistent vision.
HYPERBOREAN WARFARE
This is shamelessly lifted from Princesses of the Universe, but it's a solid concept: fighting to kill isn't particularly appropriate in-genre. So we might as well make it part of your cultural expectations: that of course you run away once your schemes have failed, that of course when you have someone at your mercy you gloat and take them prisoner rather than run them through, that of course the laser blast won't kill you. The dramatic flipside, naturally, is that losing a battle sucks because everyone knows you lost, and that's a loss of prestige and honor for your kingdom, plus all the emotional drama that comes from feeling like a failure.
This also allows for feuding kingdoms and suspicion from other princesses without turning the setting into Game of Thrones- yeah, we're at war, which means our champions are trying to one-up each other and prove our kingdom's legitimacy, with face and honor at stake, not that we're throwing an entire generation of our people into a meat grinder.
Now, the Riders might try to kill you! It would be very rude, and they'd try to do it when nobody was looking, but they're not from around here and not killing people does not come as naturally to them. Still, they'd be swimming up against the narrative current, so if a Rider happened to stab you in the back, you'd almost certainly survive. It'd just be painful and dramatic and the kids watching at home would be wondering whether they actually got you, but of course they didn't really.
Because of this, you should revise the +BLOOD Finish Them to "when you seek to overpower them or beat them down, roll +Blood." More "I throw them around until they do that dramatic but futile attempt to get up" or "I wrestle them into submission," less "I STAB THEIR FACE." It runs the risk of overlapping a little with +SENSE, but I think we'll get the hang of the difference.
RIDERS
In Jenna Moran's Nobilis, the Riders (or Excrucians) are from outside the universe (check) and want to unmake it (not so much check). One of their "types" has the motivation that they love you, or rather, some ineffable essence of you that they want to free by destroying everything else about you.
I changed their motivation somewhat; destroying all of existence is a bit bleak for a magical princess tv show. But a selfish, rapacious love of all the beauty and wonder within this world, which they will jealously hoard or bury under snowdrifts when their star ascends? That works wonderfully. The connection to winter is a personal flourish. It fits, I think. Comparisons to the Wintersmith are apt, and they have shades of that world's elves as well.
Your average Rider is a civilian, who (coldly, beautifully, longingly) has an actual job of some sort. The Riders you'll be fighting, though? They're the King's children, or his royal guards, the handful of Riders who signed up for this job of fighting magical princesses. So, to sum up: deep night-studded eyes and white hair, not okay to punch immediately. Wearing the King's armor and pointing swords at you and laughing evilly? Totally okay to punch. Though it’ll be tough, and they might just punch you back!
THE OVERLORD
The natural foil for a world of princesses is a DILF. No, I am not taking constructive criticism.
If we were playing Under Hollow Hills, he would be the Nightmare Horse: dangerous, alluring, sensual, genial until you realize you're too close and he holds you fast. Appearance-wise, equal parts Geralt of Riva and Lee Pace's Thranduil, with eyes like the first night you were out in real wilderness. Also the Big Bad Wolf, at least symbolically, sometimes literally.
If all of Hyperborea united against him, he'd lose, no question. I don't think that's going to happen unless your characters make it happen, and you'll be fighting his kids and their attempts to divide the kingdoms every step of the way. Also, if you ran into him, he'd probably stop to have a pleasant conversation and be, like, the Cool Dad of your various adversaries, while still being capable of beating you down without breaking a sweat if you tried to stop whatever he was there to do.
If I was him, I would justify myself by saying: imagine that a friend invited you over for dinner, and when you arrived, you discovered that they had a lost van Gogh painting! And they were using it as a plate for slices of pizza while watching TV! Wouldn't that make you horrified? Wouldn't you take it away from them? Wouldn't you clean it off, hang it up in your house, and treasure having it? Something that beautiful deserves to be owned by someone who appreciates it properly. (But owning it is the important part, even if you never give it a second glance, because you know that you love it and it is yours.)
THE HIGH QUEEN
A confluence of inspirations: Princess Celestia, regal and supernal and associated with the heavens; Queen Angella, a mentoring figure who requires others to go forth while she remains in her locus of power, despite fears that the task will consume them; the Summer Lady, a figure of obsession for the King of Winter, the brilliant counterpoint to his endless winter night.
Why doesn't she go forth and kick a bodacious amount of ass? Because her power is connected intimately to Argossa, the axis mundi, and leaving would mean several steps down in power level, putting everyone at risk. Okay, why doesn't she make all the other kingdoms work together to beat the Overlord? As long as the Riders play by the same rules and customs as everyone else, rules and customs she had a direct hand in establishing, direct alliance-forming and action against their kingdom will set a precedent that will destabilize her legitimacy as High Queen in the long run - the other queens will be thinking, "if Ourania decides she doesn't like us, she'll make everyone else team up against us, too!" Then everything gets messy. There's probably a point where everyone will see the danger they're in and unite, and according to the laws of drama, that point is definitely past the point where the Riders can reasonably be stopped.
So it's just you, whatever guidance Ourania can provide, and whatever princesses you can convince to join you in the war, usually by fixing the problems that the Riders have already caused for them. If you fail, winter forever. No pressure or anything!
(Side note I'll throw in here: if you're having trouble imagining Argossa properly, imagine one of those massive-trunked baobab trees, except it's not wooden, it's stone, and its leaves are jewels, and yet it is alive. It is both the omphalos and the world tree. Yes, and.)
FUN AND TONE
When I tried writing for this, I quickly found out that this game has the potential to be a lot of fun. If something's cool I can just throw it in. Crossbow? Why not a crystal-powered laser crossbow! Should Princess Azora Howl have the ability to command shadows just because she's a witch? Hell yeah, why not! It's like giving myself permission to be gleefully, fecklessly inventive; throwing the doors wide open, but in a way that builds on creativity rather than has me trying to figure out the Right Thing to Write.
If this game is anything, I hope it's fun.
Similarly, the general tone I'm trying to hit is "yeah, you'd let your preteens watch this," with a side of "kids can actually handle a whole lot" - you can get drunk, kiss each other, bleed on-screen, bicker with each other, and suffer terrible loss, but we're not likely to kill characters off (particularly not graphically), the villains are generally selfish and cruel but not vile, and love and friendship can conquer even the sorceries of Azora Howl and Oberon Greymane. Even if you get stabbed and left to die by Morgina Fang, someone will come along to save you at the last second. "Redemption arc" is a possibility for any antagonists you make the effort to befriend, but it'll involve having to own up to hurting others. And now that I've said that, watch as we somehow dive right into "the Riders blew up an entire kingdom, and your sister was still on it when it exploded!"
GM PREP
So, Raz! What steps are you taking to combat GM burnout for this game?
I’m glad you asked! The delay between announcement of concept and delivery has allowed our best fox scribes to compile episode ideas. My own organizational style for this game is inspired heavily by Thanqol’s own experimentation in our currently-running Masks game: episodic by design, leaning into the intentional source materials (She-Ra, MLP but with more Adventure, CMWGE).
What this means is that I can throw you directly into situations (instead of trying to make a sandbox, which I am. less good at), I can get weird and improvisational and focused on providing an EXPERIENCE instead of getting hung up on accuracy and seeming cool and like I know how real things work, and I feel like I’ve got a handle on the core gameplay loops here.
ART
MUSIC
Warriors (Extended) - where this pitch began.
Lost in Thoughts All Alone - JOIIIIIIIIIN IN THE TALE, IN THE BLIIIIIIGHT, OF CONQUEST AND LIESSSS
You'll Play Your Part - wow princessing is a lot of responsibility huh
My Odyssey - on the other hand, it's also as awesome as all get out
You - a love song for the Robber King
Bad Apple!! - and an anthem for his children
Ivory Steeds - it's too late. they're here.
PATCH NOTES
- High Queen name changed from Celene to Ourania (cf. Jack Problem)
- Shy, frightened Meina Glint changed to badass, hyper-vigilant Eska Glint
- Pacifist woobie Caspian Fleet changed to bratty twink Cassian Fleet
- Riders no longer capable of hypergeometric vore
- Fixed Greymane/Whitemane inconsistency in favor of Greymane
- Overlord Stat changed from invincible swordsman and dancer to panoply of treasures
- Overlord Weakness added
- Art added
- Propped up a cardboard box with a stick and wrote "FREE ANGST FOR FLUFFY PONY" on the side
The name Hyperborea was intentionally chosen, or else retroactively became meaningful, or both. In the classical Greek tradition, it meant the land beyond the North Wind, an idyllic paradise beyond the world we know. Our Hyperborea is a land beyond the ordinary world, a paradise of merry wars and benevolent verdancy, and the North Wind - in the form of the King of the Riders - has finally arrived.
THE PRETTY PRINCESS PRINCIPLE
If there is a disconnect between the way your playbook describes a move or gear option - heck, even the tags - and your vision of being a pretty princess, your vision always gets priority. Just signpost the change and if it causes any problems, that's on me to bring up. Fellowship was designed to be generic player-detailed fantasy, and it needs tweaking to bring it in line with a strong and consistent vision.
HYPERBOREAN WARFARE
This is shamelessly lifted from Princesses of the Universe, but it's a solid concept: fighting to kill isn't particularly appropriate in-genre. So we might as well make it part of your cultural expectations: that of course you run away once your schemes have failed, that of course when you have someone at your mercy you gloat and take them prisoner rather than run them through, that of course the laser blast won't kill you. The dramatic flipside, naturally, is that losing a battle sucks because everyone knows you lost, and that's a loss of prestige and honor for your kingdom, plus all the emotional drama that comes from feeling like a failure.
This also allows for feuding kingdoms and suspicion from other princesses without turning the setting into Game of Thrones- yeah, we're at war, which means our champions are trying to one-up each other and prove our kingdom's legitimacy, with face and honor at stake, not that we're throwing an entire generation of our people into a meat grinder.
Now, the Riders might try to kill you! It would be very rude, and they'd try to do it when nobody was looking, but they're not from around here and not killing people does not come as naturally to them. Still, they'd be swimming up against the narrative current, so if a Rider happened to stab you in the back, you'd almost certainly survive. It'd just be painful and dramatic and the kids watching at home would be wondering whether they actually got you, but of course they didn't really.
Because of this, you should revise the +BLOOD Finish Them to "when you seek to overpower them or beat them down, roll +Blood." More "I throw them around until they do that dramatic but futile attempt to get up" or "I wrestle them into submission," less "I STAB THEIR FACE." It runs the risk of overlapping a little with +SENSE, but I think we'll get the hang of the difference.
RIDERS
In Jenna Moran's Nobilis, the Riders (or Excrucians) are from outside the universe (check) and want to unmake it (not so much check). One of their "types" has the motivation that they love you, or rather, some ineffable essence of you that they want to free by destroying everything else about you.
I changed their motivation somewhat; destroying all of existence is a bit bleak for a magical princess tv show. But a selfish, rapacious love of all the beauty and wonder within this world, which they will jealously hoard or bury under snowdrifts when their star ascends? That works wonderfully. The connection to winter is a personal flourish. It fits, I think. Comparisons to the Wintersmith are apt, and they have shades of that world's elves as well.
Your average Rider is a civilian, who (coldly, beautifully, longingly) has an actual job of some sort. The Riders you'll be fighting, though? They're the King's children, or his royal guards, the handful of Riders who signed up for this job of fighting magical princesses. So, to sum up: deep night-studded eyes and white hair, not okay to punch immediately. Wearing the King's armor and pointing swords at you and laughing evilly? Totally okay to punch. Though it’ll be tough, and they might just punch you back!
THE OVERLORD
The natural foil for a world of princesses is a DILF. No, I am not taking constructive criticism.
If we were playing Under Hollow Hills, he would be the Nightmare Horse: dangerous, alluring, sensual, genial until you realize you're too close and he holds you fast. Appearance-wise, equal parts Geralt of Riva and Lee Pace's Thranduil, with eyes like the first night you were out in real wilderness. Also the Big Bad Wolf, at least symbolically, sometimes literally.
If all of Hyperborea united against him, he'd lose, no question. I don't think that's going to happen unless your characters make it happen, and you'll be fighting his kids and their attempts to divide the kingdoms every step of the way. Also, if you ran into him, he'd probably stop to have a pleasant conversation and be, like, the Cool Dad of your various adversaries, while still being capable of beating you down without breaking a sweat if you tried to stop whatever he was there to do.
If I was him, I would justify myself by saying: imagine that a friend invited you over for dinner, and when you arrived, you discovered that they had a lost van Gogh painting! And they were using it as a plate for slices of pizza while watching TV! Wouldn't that make you horrified? Wouldn't you take it away from them? Wouldn't you clean it off, hang it up in your house, and treasure having it? Something that beautiful deserves to be owned by someone who appreciates it properly. (But owning it is the important part, even if you never give it a second glance, because you know that you love it and it is yours.)
THE HIGH QUEEN
A confluence of inspirations: Princess Celestia, regal and supernal and associated with the heavens; Queen Angella, a mentoring figure who requires others to go forth while she remains in her locus of power, despite fears that the task will consume them; the Summer Lady, a figure of obsession for the King of Winter, the brilliant counterpoint to his endless winter night.
Why doesn't she go forth and kick a bodacious amount of ass? Because her power is connected intimately to Argossa, the axis mundi, and leaving would mean several steps down in power level, putting everyone at risk. Okay, why doesn't she make all the other kingdoms work together to beat the Overlord? As long as the Riders play by the same rules and customs as everyone else, rules and customs she had a direct hand in establishing, direct alliance-forming and action against their kingdom will set a precedent that will destabilize her legitimacy as High Queen in the long run - the other queens will be thinking, "if Ourania decides she doesn't like us, she'll make everyone else team up against us, too!" Then everything gets messy. There's probably a point where everyone will see the danger they're in and unite, and according to the laws of drama, that point is definitely past the point where the Riders can reasonably be stopped.
So it's just you, whatever guidance Ourania can provide, and whatever princesses you can convince to join you in the war, usually by fixing the problems that the Riders have already caused for them. If you fail, winter forever. No pressure or anything!
(Side note I'll throw in here: if you're having trouble imagining Argossa properly, imagine one of those massive-trunked baobab trees, except it's not wooden, it's stone, and its leaves are jewels, and yet it is alive. It is both the omphalos and the world tree. Yes, and.)
FUN AND TONE
When I tried writing for this, I quickly found out that this game has the potential to be a lot of fun. If something's cool I can just throw it in. Crossbow? Why not a crystal-powered laser crossbow! Should Princess Azora Howl have the ability to command shadows just because she's a witch? Hell yeah, why not! It's like giving myself permission to be gleefully, fecklessly inventive; throwing the doors wide open, but in a way that builds on creativity rather than has me trying to figure out the Right Thing to Write.
If this game is anything, I hope it's fun.
Similarly, the general tone I'm trying to hit is "yeah, you'd let your preteens watch this," with a side of "kids can actually handle a whole lot" - you can get drunk, kiss each other, bleed on-screen, bicker with each other, and suffer terrible loss, but we're not likely to kill characters off (particularly not graphically), the villains are generally selfish and cruel but not vile, and love and friendship can conquer even the sorceries of Azora Howl and Oberon Greymane. Even if you get stabbed and left to die by Morgina Fang, someone will come along to save you at the last second. "Redemption arc" is a possibility for any antagonists you make the effort to befriend, but it'll involve having to own up to hurting others. And now that I've said that, watch as we somehow dive right into "the Riders blew up an entire kingdom, and your sister was still on it when it exploded!"
GM PREP
So, Raz! What steps are you taking to combat GM burnout for this game?
I’m glad you asked! The delay between announcement of concept and delivery has allowed our best fox scribes to compile episode ideas. My own organizational style for this game is inspired heavily by Thanqol’s own experimentation in our currently-running Masks game: episodic by design, leaning into the intentional source materials (She-Ra, MLP but with more Adventure, CMWGE).
What this means is that I can throw you directly into situations (instead of trying to make a sandbox, which I am. less good at), I can get weird and improvisational and focused on providing an EXPERIENCE instead of getting hung up on accuracy and seeming cool and like I know how real things work, and I feel like I’ve got a handle on the core gameplay loops here.
ART
MUSIC
Warriors (Extended) - where this pitch began.
Lost in Thoughts All Alone - JOIIIIIIIIIN IN THE TALE, IN THE BLIIIIIIGHT, OF CONQUEST AND LIESSSS
You'll Play Your Part - wow princessing is a lot of responsibility huh
My Odyssey - on the other hand, it's also as awesome as all get out
You - a love song for the Robber King
Bad Apple!! - and an anthem for his children
Ivory Steeds - it's too late. they're here.
PATCH NOTES
- High Queen name changed from Celene to Ourania (cf. Jack Problem)
- Shy, frightened Meina Glint changed to badass, hyper-vigilant Eska Glint
- Pacifist woobie Caspian Fleet changed to bratty twink Cassian Fleet
- Riders no longer capable of hypergeometric vore
- Fixed Greymane/Whitemane inconsistency in favor of Greymane
- Overlord Stat changed from invincible swordsman and dancer to panoply of treasures
- Overlord Weakness added
- Art added
- Propped up a cardboard box with a stick and wrote "FREE ANGST FOR FLUFFY PONY" on the side
THE FOLLOWING IS MY GIFT TO YOU; CHANGE, STEAL, OR DENY ANYTHING AND EVERYTHING AS SUITS YOUR CHARACTERS.
So I've noticed that one thing that Fellowship can struggle with is a sense of context and place. Therefore, I've come up with a bunch of places that probably will be in Hyperborea, pending any player intervention. (Which is important; if, say, Phoe wants to tell me that I've fallen for cunning lies about Devilhome, or if Anarion wants to replace Jedad with pyramid-haunted Serethia, or Thanqol informs me that he’s gonna be the Princess of the Ridgeback Mountains, it's vital that you be able to do so without worrying about treading on my toes.) Also, this is in no way an exhaustive list; it's just what's sprung forth from my head up til this point. Hyperborea is large and wonderful enough that "oh, yes, there's a marvelous kingdom we haven't mentioned yet just beyond the horizon" is always a possibility.
Jedad is a desert kingdom that hugs the coastline of the inner Hyperborean Sea. As one of the laws of Hyperborea is that all places must be fruitful, even Jedad is bursting to the seams with resources: in this case, the sands of Jedad produce a multitude of spices when ground, filtered or steamed. The banks of the rivers are lush and verdant, and generally the heat never rises above "a good excuse to sit around, fan yourself, and share cold drinks." The Queen of Jedad has a magic ring that allows her to command the djinn of the desert, which saves tremendously on construction costs. Veils are ubiquitous, for important fashion reasons. Further south, the volcanoes can be dangerous if not treated with respect and careful planning, but the rare ores and fire crystals found within make mining operations worth the expense.
Deep Hollow is a city mostly situated within a crevasse. Note that I say mostly: it is a city of mushrooms, which means that it is constantly expanding beyond the lips of the crevasse. The fashion is to wear wide hats and traveling cloaks, which means that a citizen of Deep Hollow, standing still, may be mistaken at a glance for yet another mushroom. They make mushroom ciders, truffle cakes, mushroom pies, mushroom steaks, and little mushroom snowglobes. Even the lamps of the city are bioluminescent mushrooms. You'd think that the people of Deep Hollow would be taciturn and dour, but they're actually very friendly, and have a thriving poetry slam community (as long as you like sonnets about mushrooms).
The wide plains of Rowan are renowned for the herds of wild horses that graze there. The people of Rowan, on the other hand, are renowned for their rivalry with the wild griffons of the mountains, who like nothing better than horse sandwiches. They are a proud and contentious folk, who are not at all encroaching on any other intellectual property involving somewhat Anglo-Saxon horse riders. If you need a fine steed, perhaps even one of the famed pegasi, you'd best go to Rowan.
Feloria is a bucolic farmland, the breadbasket of all Hyperborea. It has the widest variety of flowers grown in all of Hyperborea, and its festivals are fine excuses to eat until you're stuffed, to wear a multitude of flower crowns and garlands, and to end up kissing someone you didn't expect to. It's also a popular place to retire, oddly enough; it's easy to disappear among the hills of Feloria, open up a small farm, and live in contentment for the rest of your days, if that's what you really want out of your old age.
Hidden deep within Feloria is Hecatia University, the most prestigious community of witches in all of Hyperborea. Initiates spend half the year serving as village witches across Feloria, and half the year attending classes in the spell-cloaked, ivy-choked halls of Hecatia, learning how to wield magic responsibly and with flair. Being educated at Hecatia is somewhat scandalous for a princess, given the perception that the University's oath of care and service to the common folk, sworn upon graduation, conflicts with a future queen's duty to care for her nation first and foremost - but witches are known for being stubborn, and if you're the kind of person who belongs at Hecatia, you'll run away from your kingdom before you let anyone else tell you to forget about your gifts.
Axonia is a verdant, overgrown jungle, dotted with ancient ruins from some civilization from the dawn of time. The current ruling regime is made up of dryads, naturally. It's one of the more dangerous parts of Hyperborea, full of monsters and exotic insects - not to mention dinosaurs! It's even illegal to go plundering those ancient ruins - which just makes them more appealing targets for aspiring champions. Rumor has it that the Temple of the Jade Serpent is deliberately designed to be an appealing target, full of devious traps, and that every time a princess-champion makes it away with the treasure at the temple's heart, the dryads put in a new treasure and reset the traps.
Hobling Keep is the heart of goblinkind in Hyperborea. A sprawling labyrinth of tinkers and alchemists, Hobling Keep is ruled by the Goblin Queen, one of the most trusted advisors of High Queen Ourania. If you want to find the most cutting-edge magitech in Hyperborea, it'll be in the bazaars of Hobling Keep. It's rumored to be impregnable, were the Goblin Queen to lock the gates and raise the walls to Siege Mode - but only a rampaging dragon could possibly pose such a threat!
Askaia is an island kingdom of cats, The Cat Returns style. The Askaians burn so much catnip-laced incense that the whole island is wreathed in smoky mist, with beautiful glass towers rising up out of the haze. The princesses of Askaia, notably, can become catgirls through a magical girl-style transformation, because opposable thumbs are a superpower in their own right.
Speaking of dragons, of course Hyperborea has dragons! They haunt the highest mountains in all Hyperborea- save Argossa itself, tallest of all- the Ridgeback Mountains. Rumor has it that the mountains themselves are the back of the mother of all dragons, but only the Paladins of the Red Monastery know for sure. Guarding the mountain passes with their halberds and peerless martial arts, the Paladins keep overconfident champions and foolish gawkers from disturbing the hidden rites of the dragons. Or, according to rumor, from plundering their extravagant hoards. To gain access, you have to pass their trials of character and virtue.
When it comes to truly wild parties, you have to go underneath Hyperborea to Devilhome to really cut lose. It's a 24/7 revel down there among the paper-masked, black-furred devils of Hyperborea, who were banished beneath the earth aeons ago for breaking the original chariots of the sun and the moon; or shattering one of the horns of the mother of dragons; or some other unspeakable crime of passion and strength. Their Grandmothers can still break the unbreakable, fetter the unfetterable, jump over Argossa in a single bound, and otherwise perform deeds that are by definition impossible. The trick is impressing them enough to gain their respect, let alone their attention. If the Riders hadn't shown up, the Overlord would probably have been from Devilhome...
So I've noticed that one thing that Fellowship can struggle with is a sense of context and place. Therefore, I've come up with a bunch of places that probably will be in Hyperborea, pending any player intervention. (Which is important; if, say, Phoe wants to tell me that I've fallen for cunning lies about Devilhome, or if Anarion wants to replace Jedad with pyramid-haunted Serethia, or Thanqol informs me that he’s gonna be the Princess of the Ridgeback Mountains, it's vital that you be able to do so without worrying about treading on my toes.) Also, this is in no way an exhaustive list; it's just what's sprung forth from my head up til this point. Hyperborea is large and wonderful enough that "oh, yes, there's a marvelous kingdom we haven't mentioned yet just beyond the horizon" is always a possibility.
Jedad is a desert kingdom that hugs the coastline of the inner Hyperborean Sea. As one of the laws of Hyperborea is that all places must be fruitful, even Jedad is bursting to the seams with resources: in this case, the sands of Jedad produce a multitude of spices when ground, filtered or steamed. The banks of the rivers are lush and verdant, and generally the heat never rises above "a good excuse to sit around, fan yourself, and share cold drinks." The Queen of Jedad has a magic ring that allows her to command the djinn of the desert, which saves tremendously on construction costs. Veils are ubiquitous, for important fashion reasons. Further south, the volcanoes can be dangerous if not treated with respect and careful planning, but the rare ores and fire crystals found within make mining operations worth the expense.
Deep Hollow is a city mostly situated within a crevasse. Note that I say mostly: it is a city of mushrooms, which means that it is constantly expanding beyond the lips of the crevasse. The fashion is to wear wide hats and traveling cloaks, which means that a citizen of Deep Hollow, standing still, may be mistaken at a glance for yet another mushroom. They make mushroom ciders, truffle cakes, mushroom pies, mushroom steaks, and little mushroom snowglobes. Even the lamps of the city are bioluminescent mushrooms. You'd think that the people of Deep Hollow would be taciturn and dour, but they're actually very friendly, and have a thriving poetry slam community (as long as you like sonnets about mushrooms).
The wide plains of Rowan are renowned for the herds of wild horses that graze there. The people of Rowan, on the other hand, are renowned for their rivalry with the wild griffons of the mountains, who like nothing better than horse sandwiches. They are a proud and contentious folk, who are not at all encroaching on any other intellectual property involving somewhat Anglo-Saxon horse riders. If you need a fine steed, perhaps even one of the famed pegasi, you'd best go to Rowan.
Feloria is a bucolic farmland, the breadbasket of all Hyperborea. It has the widest variety of flowers grown in all of Hyperborea, and its festivals are fine excuses to eat until you're stuffed, to wear a multitude of flower crowns and garlands, and to end up kissing someone you didn't expect to. It's also a popular place to retire, oddly enough; it's easy to disappear among the hills of Feloria, open up a small farm, and live in contentment for the rest of your days, if that's what you really want out of your old age.
Hidden deep within Feloria is Hecatia University, the most prestigious community of witches in all of Hyperborea. Initiates spend half the year serving as village witches across Feloria, and half the year attending classes in the spell-cloaked, ivy-choked halls of Hecatia, learning how to wield magic responsibly and with flair. Being educated at Hecatia is somewhat scandalous for a princess, given the perception that the University's oath of care and service to the common folk, sworn upon graduation, conflicts with a future queen's duty to care for her nation first and foremost - but witches are known for being stubborn, and if you're the kind of person who belongs at Hecatia, you'll run away from your kingdom before you let anyone else tell you to forget about your gifts.
Axonia is a verdant, overgrown jungle, dotted with ancient ruins from some civilization from the dawn of time. The current ruling regime is made up of dryads, naturally. It's one of the more dangerous parts of Hyperborea, full of monsters and exotic insects - not to mention dinosaurs! It's even illegal to go plundering those ancient ruins - which just makes them more appealing targets for aspiring champions. Rumor has it that the Temple of the Jade Serpent is deliberately designed to be an appealing target, full of devious traps, and that every time a princess-champion makes it away with the treasure at the temple's heart, the dryads put in a new treasure and reset the traps.
Hobling Keep is the heart of goblinkind in Hyperborea. A sprawling labyrinth of tinkers and alchemists, Hobling Keep is ruled by the Goblin Queen, one of the most trusted advisors of High Queen Ourania. If you want to find the most cutting-edge magitech in Hyperborea, it'll be in the bazaars of Hobling Keep. It's rumored to be impregnable, were the Goblin Queen to lock the gates and raise the walls to Siege Mode - but only a rampaging dragon could possibly pose such a threat!
Askaia is an island kingdom of cats, The Cat Returns style. The Askaians burn so much catnip-laced incense that the whole island is wreathed in smoky mist, with beautiful glass towers rising up out of the haze. The princesses of Askaia, notably, can become catgirls through a magical girl-style transformation, because opposable thumbs are a superpower in their own right.
Speaking of dragons, of course Hyperborea has dragons! They haunt the highest mountains in all Hyperborea- save Argossa itself, tallest of all- the Ridgeback Mountains. Rumor has it that the mountains themselves are the back of the mother of all dragons, but only the Paladins of the Red Monastery know for sure. Guarding the mountain passes with their halberds and peerless martial arts, the Paladins keep overconfident champions and foolish gawkers from disturbing the hidden rites of the dragons. Or, according to rumor, from plundering their extravagant hoards. To gain access, you have to pass their trials of character and virtue.
When it comes to truly wild parties, you have to go underneath Hyperborea to Devilhome to really cut lose. It's a 24/7 revel down there among the paper-masked, black-furred devils of Hyperborea, who were banished beneath the earth aeons ago for breaking the original chariots of the sun and the moon; or shattering one of the horns of the mother of dragons; or some other unspeakable crime of passion and strength. Their Grandmothers can still break the unbreakable, fetter the unfetterable, jump over Argossa in a single bound, and otherwise perform deeds that are by definition impossible. The trick is impressing them enough to gain their respect, let alone their attention. If the Riders hadn't shown up, the Overlord would probably have been from Devilhome...
THE OLD ARCHIVES
