Emoria: World-Building OOC -ACCEPTING-

Gunneh2113 wrote:Could be an NPC nation by now. Just because it wasn't when Vatienne and the Mountains of Night were warring over them doesn't mean that people couldn't have migrated there since then. Actually, it would make perfect sense that the Sildari from both mine and Dax's nations would want to go there: A war means death, and death means spirits. The more spirits that are present, the higher the connection to the Spirit Plane.

Loki wrote:

Raptorman wrote:The Mountains of Night in Detail. The Portal is below the Darktower, in it's bowels.

Question: Are those walls on the northern and southern boarders along the scale of the Great Wall of China? I'm just wondering if your nation is blocking land travel between the two continents. It would be a good enough reason as to why Plague's, Shadow's, and my races are more animal-like rather than humanoid and why the continent is mostly untamed, but it would likely mean that information between them would be somewhat choked off.

Spoiler:

Username: Blackrock
Character Name: Perun
Nickname(s): Ink-sleeve, Kinslayer.
Species/Race: Human
Physical Description: Unlike most of his fellow countrymen, Perun's tawny hair is kept short, his full beard is well-trimmed. His eyes are blue of colour, deep and intelligent. Further down a short nose can be seen, which appears to have been broken once or twice. After that, his mighty jaw follows, hidden beneath the beard. Apart from the signs of time etched on his features, mostly around the wide forehead and eyes, scars of battle can be seen here and there. A muscled neck connects his hardy face to the broad shoulders bellow. Like the rest of his people, he stands at a towering 6'6 and boasts an impressive body-build. That said, he is by far not sluggish and is quite nimble on his feet, which he uses as an element of surprise.

His clothes mirror an Arbian's way of life - plain and practical. When not dressed for battle, he wears a rugged, brown robe. A thick shirt and trousers under it, as well as a pair of sturdy leather boots. Depending on the season, either a thick cloak, made of animal skins or a masterfully sewn black mantle will complete his apparel. Depending on the mood and occasion, a sword may be hung from his belt or an axe positioned across the back. His sword, a symbol of rank and prestige, is well-made, with runes of courage and valour engraved on the blade. The scabbard is plainly decorated, with simple silver runes etched into its surface. The axe's haft is made of steel, so that it is protected from attempts to chop it and covered in leather for a better grip. The head also bears runes, again, a sign of his high standing.

Perun's battle-gear is somewhat of a legend amongst neighbouring tribes. A suit of plate armour, something which was never seen before. The Arbian people, almost isolated from the rest of the world, were knowledgeable in the art of forging chainmail, but had not advanced further than that. Recently, after some of the best smiths in the vicinity studied Perun's suit, plate has begun making its way across Arbia's elite. It is still a very rare and expensive commodity, however and only the richest can afford it. Perun has made some adjustments to his armour, removing some of the components in order to "fit in" better with his tribe. As a result, a cuirass, worn over a thick quilted shirt, protects his torso, but the tasset has been removed. His legs are protected by a thick pair of trousers, the knees are protected by flexible plates. Apart from the heavy leather boots, a pair of greaves protect the lower part of the legs. Perun's shoulders are guarded by compact pauldrons, again, made of overlapping, flexible plates. The elbows are guarded similarly to the knees and the hands by a pair of chainmail gauntlets. A large, wooden shield is strapped across his back. As a sign of status, he wears the black mantle or thick cloak mentioned above. Depending on the time of year, the leather clothes may be removed in favour of fur ones, to better ward against the cold.

Character Bio: Perun was the oldest of three sons, born in the family of Chieftain Slavin, leader of the Traki tribe. The Traki were renowned for their skills as hunters, for they lived close to the Wild Wood - an ancient forest near the south-western edges of Arbia. Perun's own line, the sons of Fanrin as they were known, were also famous in their own right. Fanrin, Perun's great-grandfather, was a master hunter and it was said that he wrestled a bear and won. The bear's head lies to this day in Fanrin's Hall. During the time of Perun, however, hard times fell on the Bear-Wrestler's king. Indrin, the second son, died at the age of four during one cold, winter night. Perun was a bright, but weak child. He spent most of his early years in bed, weathering some sickness or another; the healers doubted that the boy would leave past his seventh year. Against all odds, the child survived, but he remained a weakling. The youngest brother, Mirin, two years younger, could easily beat his older brother. Perun had no strength to wield an axe or lift a shield, he did not have the power to pull a bow string, nor did he have the endurance to hammer away at a smith's anvil all day. He lacked the skill and dexterity to craft or carve out items. In short, the boy and future-chieftain was a disgrace on his noble line.

Slavin, however, was of the new generation of chiefs, less isolationistic and more open-minded. There was no pity in him for the boy, for the Arbians are a harsh people and only the strong survive, but he also noticed his impressive mental skills. Although no hunter, warrior or craftsman, Perun easily remembered the stories and songs of old and retold them with great skill. For two years, a thought, a shadow of an idea, crept through Slavin's mind. When one day, it came to fruition. A group of traders, strangers from distant lands, passed through the village; as customary - the Chieftain welcomed them in his halls. They told amazing stories of far off countries and mysterious cultures. Of places where those frail of body, but strong of mind ruled over all. And that is when Perun's father finally decided to do what he had planned. He asked the merchants to take the boy away, to leave him in one of those strange lands, where he could learn and, if gods be willing, rule. The travelers agreed and so, at the age of fifteen Perun left his tribe and homeland behind, for, what he thought was, forever. The title of Chieftain would pass on to his brother. In truth, Perun departed in great shame, for being stripped of heritage, especially in favour of a younger sibling, is a disgrace for an Arbian. He would not be able to return, he was no longer welcomed amongst his tribe. Or so they thought.

The following two decades are a mystery to most and Perun refuses to speak much of them. He lived amongst other cultures and traveled to distant lands, but as the years passed, his desire to return home grew ever greater. And thus, twenty winters after the boy had left, the man returned. Tall, muscled, grim - bearing the scars of battle, with a suit of "magical" armour. And when this stranger claimed that he was Perun, son of Slavin, all were left speechless. Not surprisingly, the welcome was less than cool. In the years following Perun's departure, his father had grown weak and soon departed from this world. Mirin assumed the mantle of Chieftain and had led the tribe since then. The younger brother was a fine Chief, he was strong and brave - and he ruled with a firm hand, there was no doubt that he would continue the family's line of mighty leaders. But this was not enough for Perun, for he knew that there was no place for him in this new tribe. The most he could hope for was to settle down as a hunter on the outskirts of the settlements and spend his time in the deep forests. Perun desired power, he desired leadership.

Not long after his arrival, the upstart challenged his brother. He called upon an ancient tradition - a Podbor (A selection or choosing, in the Common tongue). A fight between the two pretenders, a fight to the death, the winner would then assume leadership of the tribe. Mirin had grown proud over the years and he accepted his brother's challenge without second thoughts. This proved to be his downfall. The frail boy had grown into a skilled warrior. His strikes were quick and powerful, his shield-arm swift and unrelenting. After a fierce fight, Mirin was disarmed and left at the mercy of his brother. Their tribesmen watched in silence, as the fate of the tribe was decided. Many thought that Perun had become weak-willed over the years and was not a true Arbian. He proved them wrong. He looked at his sibling and simply said: "In Arbia, the strong rule". After that, without much delay, he killed his brother then and there. That is when he earned the name "Kinslayer". For while once a part of Arbian life, over the years killing a family member had grown increasingly rare and frowned upon. The tradition was on the side of the victor, however and he took the title of Chieftain for himself.

During the following years Perun earned the respect of both his tribe and their neighbours. From his journeys he brought many things, stories of amazing cities and peoples; knowledge of far-off lands; even keepsakes from these strange places. But above all, he brought ideas, new ideas, fresh ideas to the rotting Arbian way of life. Perun introduced the concept of formations to his tribesmen. For the Arbian warrior combat was an individual affair, combatants would fight independently from each other, proving their worth in single combat with the enemy. The new Chieftain noted that this was foolish, that men were like a bundle of sticks - weak individually but unbreakable as a whole. The Shield Wall made its way into the Trakian's battle line. The spear too, saw wider use, for it gave these groups of men an advantage over the foe. Perun also insisted that a simple bow and arrow could be used to great effect on the field of battle. This was seen as cowardly and dishonourable by both friend and foe, but it soon became a common practice. Finally, the Chieftain insisted that the songs and stories should be recorded on paper, so that they could better withstand the test of time. The Arbians had no alphabet up until then, instead they used runes to detail important events. Perun changed that, by representing the sounds of the Common tongue with a modified version of the Arbian runes. After that he began writing books, about the history of the tribe, of his kin and of his homeland. In the beginning, only he could enjoy the fruits of his work, but as time passed the number of people willing to learn these "solid" words increased. Men from other tribes came as well and they brought their new found knowledge back home. As of now, the number of literate individuals in Arbia is still relatively small, but it is ever increasing and most villages can now boast at least one "word-wise". With these actions, Perun became known as "Ink-sleeve", but few have the courage to say that in his face. Only one ever dared to mention it and the Cheiftain once again proved that he could wield the axe as well as the quill.

Perun grew into a wise, but harsh ruler. As the winters passed he came to understand that layer upon layer of tradition, that had lasted a millenia could not be undone in such a short time. He instead focused his attention on rising a knowledgeable child, one that would continue his father's legacy. He found a woman and married, he now has two sons. And while failures have left their mark on his resolve, he still believes that his people would one day stand united.

Age: 49
Gender: Male
Occupation: Chieftain
Skills: Perun is proficient with both axe and sword, wielding each with much skill. He also uses his shield to great effect, both for attack and defense. While skill with an axe is a must for any Arbian, his sword techniques he has learned abroad. This gives him an edge in his homeland, as sword wielding is reserved only for the wealthy and, thus, has few practitioners. The Chief is also a good hunter and is proficient in the use of the bow, but he never uses that for battle. He can read and write, something unheard of from where he hails and is familiar with a few foreign languages. Apart from that, his travels have provided him with some insight into other cultures and he has knowledge of places and events that were long thought to be merchant's legends.

World-space:

Arbia

Geography:
Arbia is a land of deep forests and harsh winters. Enclosed by mountains and the Talonian Ocean, it has been almost cut off from the rest of the world. To the west and south, narrow passes wind their way through the snowy mountains. While to the north-west, a mighty chasm lies and beyond it a barren landscape as far the eye can see. And, finally, to the north and east lies the endless ocean, from where ships rarely arrive. The climate is harsh, with a long, cold winter gripping the land in its icy fingers for most of the year. The summers are short and cool, which means there is little room for agriculture. There are two main rivers, both of them originate from the mountains and flow into the Talonian Ocean. The first, Drin, springs from the Beli (Whie in Common) Mountains that are located in the west. The river makes its way through the Arbian landscape, then bends southwards as it flows into the ocean. The second, Mat, also originates from the Beli Mountains. It begins its course in the south-western parts of the mountain and follows a fairly straight path towards the Ocean. The land is heavily forested, 80% of the landmass is covered with woods, which provide one of the most valuable Arbian commodities - timber. Roads are unheard of, dirt paths are few and far between, most lead to the only real Arbian city - Water Town. In addition, wealthier tribes maintain paths leading to their settlements, but those are far from the paved roads a proper town might enjoy.

Society
Due to the geographical features, there is no centralized form of government. No capital, no common language, no laws. Each tribe has its own dialect, history and form of government - in most cases, this is the Chieftain or a council of elders. There are two kinds of tribes: nomadic and sedentary; in addition to a third, that is somewhat of an exception.

Nomadic

Many tribes live a nomadic life, usually in the northern areas. The climate there is colder and the snows rarely melt. In those harsh lands, equally harsh men hunt for food, eking out a living amidst the wastes. Other nomads prefer to lead a life of marauding, typically raiding one another or their more settled down neigbhours. And others simply degrade into highwaymen, stalking the empty roads and relying on banditry. In a nomadic tribe, the chieftain is usually the master hunter as well, as that is the only source of food and thus, the most respected position. Elders act as advisors, but they do not occupy a position of power. They are considered old when not being able to hunt anymore and thus, unneeded in the day-to-day activities of the tribe. When it comes to marauders or bandits, the strongest man is considered the leader of the tribe or group. And he keeps that position until being replaced, one way or another.

Sedentary
Others have become sedentary, content to leave near the woods that provide both food and trading goods, in the form of timber. These tribes are usually better developed and, naturally, bigger than their nomadic brethren. It is not unheard of for two or more tribes to band together, in order to better protect their territory, something impossible in the frozen north. And there is a reason for that joining, for the more aggressive nomads find such settlements a lucrative target for attack. Regularly they raid villages, in hopes of stealing food or clothing and often enough they succeed. As such, those tribes who hold lands are often powerful enough to defend them, or at least - able to push back the invaders. Here, the position of chieftain is hereditary, in most cases, unless the future chief is not suitable. The qualities needed vary - the future leader may be a great warrior, which is a respected vocation as warriors defend the tribe; a master hunter, another position of equal respect; or a master craftsman, another honourable and respected calling. A chieftain will usually step down once he is no longer able to hunt or fight, passing on the position to his son. This is an important part of Arbian life and it symbolizes the passing of the old and coming of the young. As these tribes are home to more people, roles are usually specialized. For example, a warrior may solely focus on his training; or a hunter solely on stalking his pray. Goods and commodities are fairly distributed amongst the tribe, as everyone makes or acquires something that is needed by someone else. That is why laziness is not tolerated and those who cannot contribute to the growth of the tribe are cast out or, in more savage ones, outright killed.

Times are changing in Arbia, as over the last three or so centuries the climate has grown increasingly softer. The long winters are still there, but the summers have become warmer and are slowly pushing back the cold. This has led to the appearance of farming-focused settlements around the banks of rivers. A new trend, to be sure, but it seems to be growing more successful and popular with each passing year. At first, many thought that this was a foolish idea, how would these warriors forsake their training to work the land? It seems that a balance has been found - the men work during the summer and hone their skills during the long winter months. The climate allows for hardier crops to grow - wheat, barley, oats, hops. This, in turn, has brought new food and drink to the table: bread, ale, porridge and so forth. This also led to larger interest in trading, as the tribes who had no access to these commodities wanted to acquire them. The "landworkers" (as they are known), in turn, desire furs and timber, which they cannot produce. All of this, has brought the Arbians closer together and blood-feuds and the like are rapidly decreasing. In these settlements, elders are usually more respected than normal and they are usually the ones in charge of the tribe. This is owed to the fact that these older men have seen and experienced things that may be of paramount importance regarding the harvest. What should be done when the snows begin to fall earlier? What is this disease that is plaguing the crops? And other such.

Water Town
And finally, there is one more group. In the east, where the Talonian waters touch the frozen Arbian soil, between the rivers Drin and Mat, raises a city. Perhaps the only settlement in Arbia worthy of that name. Its wooden walls are high and its defenders many, but the men of Water Town are not warlike. They are adventurers, explorers and great seafarers. Their hunters do not prowl the woods, but instead catch their prey amongst the waves. Their ships often travel to distant lands, along the shore and as such, the people living there are far more knowledgeable than the average Arbian. Things here are different than those out in the wilderness. Goods are not distributed amongst the population, they are, instead, traded. If a fisherman was to desire some bread, for example, he would go to the baker's and offer his catch in return for a loaf. This has lead to some disparity between the inhabitants as some are, naturally, more well-to-do than others. Leadership is also a different matter. Instead of one young and strong leader, or a council of meek elders, there is a group of leaders. A Captain of the Guard, who is responsible for the defense of the city, as well as keeping order within it. A Captain of the Ships, who oversees the comings and goings of the sea-borne vessels. A Chief Trader, who is responsible with keeping trading honourable and fair and to punish any violations. And finally, a Master Builder who is tasked with managing the buildings within the town. To give permissions to build new ones and maintaining the old. And while this is regarded with much suspicion by other tribes, it has proven a simple, but effective way to manage the fledgling city.

Way of life
Arbians respect strength above all, the warrior is at the top of society. He is the embodiment of the land, harsh and unforgiving, he protects the tribe and honours its name. Sharing equal prestige is the hunter, for he leads a battle with the land every day. Every beast slain and every encounter survived is a proof of a man's worth. Another respected position is that of the smith. For while a warrior uses the axe to defend the tribe, he would have no axe if not for the smith. The Arbians recognize this important role and pay respects to it, a master smith is often more valued than a group of warriors. Woodcutters are also well-regarded, for it is said that the first Arbian tribes were nothing more than small groups of woodsmen.

Another common misconception is the status of women. While most would assume that the uncivilized and, often, downright barbaric Arbians would treat women as property, the truth is far from that. Women are respected for it is they who give birth to the new generation of warriors, healthy lads and lasses who must continue the family line. While not unheard of, females rarely become warriors or hunters, they instead busy themselves with household needs - sewing, cleaning, cooking and other such. In a house, all must respect the woman's wishes, for she is the mistress of the home and the one responsible for its well-being. There is even a saying: "As forlorn, as a house without a woman", which quite accurately expresses the importance of females in Arbian society.

An Arbian's way of life is not easy. Regardless of vocation, they all get up early, before the sun shines. The woman is the first to get up, she lights the fireplace, prepares breakfast and wakes the other members of the family. The meal is plain, but nutritious, to prepare for the long day of work ahead. If the man is a warrior, he sets off towards the Warrior's Hall, where skills are honed and axes are sharpened. Hunters depart towards the forest, their farewells are grim, for there is great chance that they may not return. In groups of two or three, they descend into the wooden depths. Craftsmen travel to their workplace, which may be in a separate building (wealthier tribes will have specialized workshops), the Warrior's Hall or, most commonly, the neighbouring room. Woodcutters also journey to the forest, where they spend a day of back-breaking work. The woman remains at home, along with her daughters, she teaches them how to take care of the house. As well as preparing supper, mending clothes and sewing new ones. Depending on their age, boys are either left to freely roam around, playing their games and going off on "adventures" in the settlement's surrounding areas. Or they accompany their father, brother or other close kin while they work. They may also be sent as apprentices to learn a different vocation, it depends on the father's wish.

When the sun sets and night falls, one by one, the men return. Some, sweaty and bruised from the day's training. Others, bearing freshly-killed prey, warm furs or skins and, perhaps, a trophy from a fearsome beast; their son happily running besides them. With an axe laid to rest on the mighty shoulder, the woodsmen return, bearing timber with which to chase away the cold. The craftsmen return as well, pleased with what they have wrought, or perhaps - eager for the new day to come, when they can carry on with their work. The women greet their husbands and sons, they take their clothes, order them to wash and clean themselves, and command the daughters to prepare the table. When all is ready, they sit down and eat - tales are told, gossip is shared, advice is given. Afterward, the family goes to sleep, for they need to get up early tomorrow. Hunters will usually spend some time preparing the catch, chopping and cutting; they will then join their wife in bed. Not all nights are so peaceful, however. There are times when the man will not return, when, in his stead, his comrades arrive. With grim faces they will say: "Mistress of the house, there will be no man in your bed tonight, for The Highest Lord has taken him. May Sokol safely guide his soul to the halls of your ancestors". No commands will be given that night, no gossip will be shared, no stories told. Arbians are harsh and no tears will be shed, the woman will sit by the fire and tell the children what has come to pass. And if they were to cry, she would harshly whisper: "Do not weep!". Such is the dark possibility that all Arbians must expect.

And in the morning, the cycle repeats itself - there is little time for rest, for most every day is a fight against harsh Arbia. On the seventh day of the week, however, no training is held, no hunting is done. Instead, the men spend time with their families or feast in the Chieftain's Hall (for the Chieftain must be ready for guests on that day). Food and drink for the feast is provided by the host. Who in turn receives it as a tribute from those who live under his rule. The young spend time together, dancing and singing and it is during those times that couples are matched. This is the only short respite most can hope for, as on the next day - things start once more, another six, long, harsh days.

Religion
While most tribes greatly differ from one another they all, surprisingly, share the same myths and legends. These are the embodiment of Arbian wisdom, traditions and, in some cases, history. They are passed on from one generation to the next, in the form of tales or songs. Arbians value these stories greatly and before a boy has the right to call himself a man, he must first demonstrate his knowledge of them. There are four deities in the Arbian pantheon - The Highest Lord, who rules above all; Sokol, The Wacther of Roads; Strela, The Hunter and Voin, The Warrior. Below is listed a common Arbian tale, that deals with the shaping of the world:

Once, when Time was young, many winters ago, there was blackness and nothingness. But even in the deepest of black, there is light and this light was Bel, the Light Orb, the Sun. And he waged war against the Dark and resisted, for many long days. When one day, another came into being, he that we refer to as The Highest Lord, the Creator. He was mighty, as mighty as any of our warriors and wise, wiser than any elder to have walked this land. And he wandered in the dark places and all shadows looked at him in awe and all bowed low in respect. And one day his journey brought him out of the Dark and into Light and it is then that he first laid eyes on Bel. And Bel spoke:

"Hail, oh child of neither Light or Dark. I am Bel and this is my domain. What bring thou here? Seek you a boon? One of power or knowledge?"

And The Highest Lord replied: "Nay, oh shining Bel. I seek not power, for I am mighty indeed and I seek not knowledge, for I know a great many things. I merely pass through thine realm as a traveller, not a seeker. "

"And pass thoust shall, but a gift I will give. Thou hast no need of knowledge, of power? Then I give the greatest gift of all: to craft; to bring being into nothingness, to bring Light into the Dark."

And with that Bel the Light Orb gave The Highest Lord a spark everlasting, to kindle with it the flame of being. And the Lord departed, spark in hand. And he journeyed to a dark place and declared: "This shall be my realm". And he set about creating the world and he laboured long and hard to bring it into being. But Dark was jealous, for he wanted all to remain veiled by shadow. And he sent his shadows to destroy The Highest Lord's works. But he was brave and strong of will and he did not give up his holdings easily. He waged war against the darkness and what they destroyed he wrought again. And this cycle continued for many long years. But the Creator grew tired and weary, for his strength was being spent and he came to understand that he could not fight and shape alone. And in that moment he drew his sword and from it brought forth an ally. And this is how Voin, the Warrior, came to be. And he bent his knee and swore to serve. And with new found strength the two set about shaping the world. The Highest Lord would toil upon creation and Voin would ward his Lord from the Dark. And for a while, all went well. But Dark was full of wrath and he summoned forth a great host of beings black and with that host he descended upon the Creator's domain. And he brought ruin on it. The Highest Lord was enraged and with Voin by his side he journeyed to Bel's domain, as he had done so long ago. And he spoke:

"Bel, oh Orb of Light who stands idle! Thou gave me power to shape, but forgot to warn me of the price I had to pay! And pay I did, for my strength and youth I spent on creating and rebuilding what was destroyed, only to see it destroyed again. Call you this a gift? I spit on it!"

But Bel was haughty and he replied: "Thou cannot comprehend what it is to wage war against the Dark! For I have fought and resisted, since the Beginning. When the three of us, brothers - me, Time and Dark parted ways. Long before thou came to be! And thoust dare spit on my gift?! I take it back!"

"Bel! A gift given cannot be returned, or have you fallen so low? So petty?!"

And their shouting tore the darkness and it was great and fearsome. And all shadows wavered in fear; Dark watched on from his black domain. And it said that Time himself stopped to witness this clash. In that fateful moment, another voice was heard. Powerful and deep, for this was Voin and only he, The Warrior, had mustered the courage to address those greater than he.

"My Lords! Please! You waste your strength, for the real enemy lurks yonder!"

He pointed towards the darkness and then there was silence. For what he said rang true. And Voin spoke again:

"Bel, you who shine brightest! Give my Lord an army and we shall drive back these beings of shadow!"

And Bel replied: "Thou speak the truth, swordling. And fools we are to argue thus. Creator!" and he turned to the Creator once more - "Thou received a boon from me once, false as it may have been, I now grant another. Behold!"

With that Bel let out a fearsome roar and from him sprang countless warriors, bright and shinning. And at the head of this host stood The Highest Lord. And with his warriors and Voin by his side, he waged war on Dark and his armies. A long, terrible war - so long that is said that Time himself cannot remember when it began and so terrible that even our greatest fights cannot even begin to rival it. But in the end, the Creator was victorious. And Dark was cast down and fled in shame, beyond the lands of Time. And The Highest Lord set aside his arms and armour and journeyed to his former lands. And it is there that he once again brought the world into being and this time it stood complete. Bel was full of joy and he commanded his warriors to stand guard over it. And to this day they stand, the countless bright dots in the sky, which we call stars. But Dark was not defeated, full of malice and hate, he still sought to bring ruin and darkness. The Creator once again journeyed to Bel and spoke:

"Bel, brightest of stars! Thou hast given me two boons and now I seek a third! Much strength have I spent in creating my world and I seek to preserve. Thoust hast given me warriors, but they are not enough. I beseech thee, watch over my creation! Shine upon it with thine light, so that it may forever be warded against the darkness."

And Bel replied: "Two boons have I given, I now grant a third. I shall stand watch over what thee hast wrought. But a duty is best shared and I tell thee: for half a day shall I stand guard and shine upon the world. But I must rest, for I have grown meek and old. And when that time comes, thou shalt take my place and keep vigil. When my power is greater I shall stand guard for longer and when it diminishes, thou shall remain steadfast and resolute. Dost thou agree?"

The Highest Lord agreed. And Bel took a part of his own majestic self and from it wrought a fortress for the Creator. And when Bel departs from his duties, during what we call the day; The Highest Lord takes his place, standing on his throne inside the silver fortress that we call the Moon. And during that time, the night, he protects us from the creatures of darkness. And it is said that, when Bel finally regains his strength and can stand guard for a full day, the Last War will be waged. More terrible than any that has been waged before and one of the brothers will die and either Light or Dark will reign supreme. And it is told that we, The Highest Lord's creations, will play a part in that war and that our actions will determine the outcome.

The Highest Lord is the mightiest of all, father and creator of both god and man. But he is an uncaring lord and his children must fend for themselves in the harsh world below. He himself, lives in the silver fortress that is the Moon, ever watchful against the darkness beyond. No prayers are directed at him and no gifts offered, for he does not desire nor care for them. And it is said, that when he deems that a person's time has come, he blows his horn and calls them forth, so that he may bolster the number of his troops. Voin is the patron of warriors and is said to give courage and daring on the field of battle to those he deems worthy. It is customary for warriors to offer a gift to Voin before they enter battle, hoping to receive a boon. Strela is the patron of hunters and the woods and it is to him that many pray. If the catch has been bountiful, hunters will offer a tribute of meat as thanks; if it has been poor - they will offer a bone instead, hoping for more prey next week. Woodcutters will also offer a tribute of timber to Strela, as an apology for taking from him. And Sokol is the Watcher of Roads, to whom travelers pray. When one must set out on a journey, they will offer a tribute to the god, in hopes that their trip will be swift and safe. He is also the gatherer of souls and when The Highest Lord blows his horn, Sokol must guide the soul to the fortress of silver. It is a dangerous journey, for many believe that shadows will try to prevent the arriving of the new warrior, and the Watcher must guide his wards through these obstacles.

Allies: None at present.
Enemies: None at present.
Governing Body: There is no centralized government, each tribe has its own sets of traditions and laws. Once a year, during the summer, a Subor (gathering or meeting, in the Common tongue) is held. During which, tribe leaders meet and discuss border disputes, trade agreements and other such. Young men look for suitable women, traders ply their wares and tournaments take place. This is as close as the Arbians have come to a government of sorts.

Spoiler:

. : Origins of the Thendári : .
Long ago, twenty-six families of the Tawarwaith separated themselves from the Five Clans of Taurë Arda, the Forest Realm. At the time, the Five Clans were forming a general consensus and agreement to unite under a common government. The twenty-six families openly opposed the idea, holding that centralization would stifle creative thinking and growth as a race. They reasoned that it was better to remain as a loose confederation and allow their differences to remain as such, for variety, they said, was the catalyst for growth. These ideas were met with hostility, for there had recently been many small wars between the Five Clans, and all longed for peace and unity. In the end, the twenty-six families decided that it would be best for them to leave and begin afresh in a new land. Their country would be different from the union of the Five Clans, and over time, perhaps, their separate paths would one day cross, and the twenty-six families would be proven right. Thus leave they did abandoning Taurë Arda, and for this they were named Avari, the Unfaithful. Much debate was made over the direction in which they ought to set out, but in the end they said: Let us follow the path of Anor the Day-star, that its light may guide us to our new home. And so they departed, into the west.

The Avari journeyed long and far. West they set out, and west they went, on and on and on, until at last the land ended and they found themselves upon the farthest shore, looking out upon a glassy sea, watching Anor the Day-star sink below the horizon, signaling the end of their journey. Here we will find rest, they said, and they made homes for themselves among the vast forests west of a spine of tall mountains, and they called that land Annûn, Sunfall.

And in the process of time, through perilous ages and years of glory, when their language changed and they began to serve the Light, the Avari changed their name from Unfaithful back to the Forest Folk. In their new language they became the Thendári, and their land, which had become a great island, was Irrihyánë, Sunfall as before, but their proper home they now knew as Aendrel, named for their graditude and their debt to the Spirits.

. : The Avari Transgression : .
Shortly after finding and settling their new home of Annûn, the Avari naturally took to their old ways of exploration and discovery, always searching their minds and their surroundings for things new and wonderous. They communed with the animals, they spoke with the trees. They drew wisdom from the rivers, the soil, and the stars. They came to worship the Day-star for its guidance and its life-giving power. They sought to engage with all things, great and small. Over the course of many years, they began to develop a skill for touching spirit to spirit and soul to soul. Meditation and ritual developed, and soon they discovered untold pools of wisdom beyond the earth, beyond the sky. To the pursuit of this wisdom and power they bent all their finest thought and skill. Eventually they said, Let us band together and find out once and for all whether the heavens will open for us. So a great ritual was prepared, wherein the greatest of the twenty-six families of the Avari would combine their strength and reach for the stars. They should have known better. In the end, though they succeeded, what came to pass was nothing they could have imagined.

The great ritual lasted for three days. Symbols were drawn in the earth and filled with blood. They danced unceasing, they chanted mystic words to focus their minds and unify their purpose. Herbs and flames and sweet-smelling smoke were everywhere. The most skilled voluntarily took herbs and lay down upon inward-facing altars to be struck unconscious. More blood, more chants, more smoke. In the final act, suddenly there was as it were a great draft in the sky above, levitating the altars and pulling the flames some distance into the air. All sound ceased as the world was sucked somewhat into the sky, like an upturned cup pulling on the surface of the water. In the following moment, all came crashing down again with force that put out the flames, sundered the altars, and broke elven bones. A screech of wrath was heard from the sky, and the Avari knew true fear.

"Death, hold back your hungered grasp!!" commanded a voice like the crash of many waters, the rush wind on the mountains, and the boom of thunder. "Dead, restrain your wand'ring feet!! Planes, maintain your sund'ring veils!!"

The Avari cowered prostrate, their faces to the ground, fearful unto death, not knowing what the terrible words might say or mean. Again the voice came, this time directed at the Avari, in their own language.

"Forest Folk, Unfaithful! As children walking by the mighty sea, you know not where you tread. Now your questing minds have taken you farther than is meet for your spirits to dwell, and you have wrought you know not what. Heaven's veil is torn, and death and dead do beg my leave to give them rein o'er flesh and bone. And more than this, in time there will be more who seek power or rumors of the same, twisted and hungered souls grasping for they know not what but greatness. This and more you have caused through folly and excess and ignorance and lust. For your transgression you must spend your lives to keep the rend which you have made. The future of your kind is forfeit."

The Avari remained immobile, unable to do aught but lie as dead to hear and understand what final words the speaker said. But suddenly and unexpectedly the voice became less harsh. "O Unfaithful, how rightly and yet wrongly were you named. Do not fear; your plight is known, and even now your future is not dark, surrendered though it be. You will not be left to fester in your trespass. I will send you one to guide your steps, one whom you have already known, and yet have not. He will teach you how to keep the veil.
"Now renew your hearts. The Forest Folk again I name you. Grow in strength and peace, and let your spirits rise and shine, and last until the world's end."

Then the voice departed, and the elven minds could take no more, but fainted there on the ground into a deep and dreamless slumber.

. : The Age of Illumination : .
The Avari awoke to a great light, brighter than the sun, situated in their midst. None took thought for how long they might have been asleep; their minds were overpowered by the recent events, and now by this golden star that had descended to earth. The star coalesced into a shining form, twice as large as any elf. The Avari were speechless, fearing to say aught lest they trespass further against these new and awesome revelations. So they waited, and the bright figure spoke.

"Thendári...." The male voice was soft, resonant and yet not deep. Where the previous voice had been terrifying, awesome, powerful, glorious, transcendent, this shining voice was comforting yet clear, penetrating fear and inspiring deeper thought in troubled minds. Though the Avari did not understand the language, the words were such that the meaning was understood. The elves knew that he had called them by their new name. "Do not be afraid. I am Alos, Lord of Light. Again the elves understood without knowledge. The Highest has sent me to you, to teach you how to keep the veil. Before we begin, I would learn your name. Though the Highest knows it, I do not. Come, speak and make yourself known to me." Though the language held no plurality, it spoke to each at once and inspired courage in their elven hearts. One by one, after a long and fearful pause, they began to speak their names before Alos, and Alos kept them all in memory, for when once the light shines upon a thing, then ever after is that thing remembered.

The coming of Alos ushered in a new age for the twenty-six families, who so revered and loved Alos that they kept their new name in his language, and they became Thendári. The Thendári sat with Alos among the mountains and heard what he would teach them. Of the nature of the Spirit realm; of the attributes of the Rift, as it had come to be known; of the duties required to tend and guard it. It was the thendári responsibility to let nothing pass from their world into the Spirit realm, and to let nothing from the Spirit realm enter into their world. Over time Alos instructed them in many things, until the Thendári were thoroughly able to tend and guard the Rift. Then Alos left them for a time, for he must tend to his own as well as the elves. But Alos was not aggrieved, for light seeks ever to shine in its abundance upon a new place, a new being, a new thing. It had been too long since Alos walked the invigorating terrain of the Material.

During Alos's absence, the Thendári carefully and zealously did nothing but tend their duty. Their daily lives meant little to them, and all hastened for their turn at the watch, to practice what skills they learned. Afraid of failure, they fervently bent themselves to the task. This went on for two decades, until the elves became more confident. Then Alos returned and found them faithful, and he was very pleased, and praised them for their diligence.

As the years passed, Alos taught the Thendári the key to the door of Light. The wonders that the elves beheld in Alos's realm left them forever seekers and upholders of the Light. Since Alos must keep charge of his people, called the Araltári, and the Thendári both, Alos eventually set up his throne near the portal atop the highest mountain in Annûn. Naturally this became the center of government for the Thendári. Twenty-six elders were elected to stand before Alos and represent the growing numbers of thendári. Palaces and a great temple were constructed around the mountain's crest. The mountain was named Irishana, the Mountain of the Sun, for the elves' language was changing, growing more like the language of the realm of Light. Thus passed the golden Age of Illumination. And at last, when the thendári language was complete, they changed the name of their land from Annûn to Irrihyánë.

. : Origins of the Sildári : .
It was during the Age of Illumination that a new creature appeared on the great island of Annûn. None knew its origin--and if Alos knew, he did not say. At first the thendári thought it was an elf, but it was soon apparent that it was not so. This creature was more muscular; it walked differently; it grew hair on its face, and its ears were rounded. And there was one more difference. Over the course of years, even as more of these creatures were discovered, first one and then others died. Not of blade or bow or beast, but of their own accord. The thendári marveled even in their sorrow for a life expired so young. Elven lives took thousands of years to end, and no thendári yet had tasted death. Taking pity on these new creatures, this new people, the Thendári set about to gather them together and help them grow. For they said, It may be that they die of yearning, having no place or people to call their own. At first the elves brought them to their forests, but the new people were not at home among the dense trees and multitudinous plants, the sounds of myriad birds and beasts, the dusky shadows of day and the pitch black of night. The Thendári, wasting no time, took them instead to a new land, one of hills and rivers and uncomfortably open spaces. The new people immediately reacted with pleasure and approval. By this time, the new people were reproducing, and the elves taught them to make clothes. Wondering how they might further lend their aid, they sought guidance from Alos.

Alos said that while elves were beings of Material, Water, and Earth, the new people were products of primarily Spirit, Light, Material, and Shadow. He elaborated further that the thendári had become something different from other elves, that Spirit had been added to their being, that they were in fact immortal. As for the new people, Alos knew not why their mortality came so soon, but he did know that it was a part of who they were. Not knowing whether their kind had a true name, let alone what it might be, Alos called them Sildári.

. : The Fall of Ander : .
As the Age of Illumination progressed, the Sildári multiplied across the eastern face of Annûn, or Irrihyánë as some were beginning to call it. The Sildári did barbaric things, killing beasts and eating them, or marring the ground with instruments of sharpened stone, and other things any elf would find horrifying. Alos guided the Thendári to understand, however, so the elves merely observed as time went by. With the elves to supply them with tools and knowledge, the Sildári grew strong at an alarming rate. Spurning the elves' languages, both the old from Taurë Arda and the new from Alos, the Sildári formed their own speech, calling themselves "man" and "woman" and "humans." The humans began to build dwellings of brick and stone. The elves began to watch more and more with a horrid fascination as the human civilization emerged. By this time, few elves could stand the human lifestyle, and the peoples remained almost completely separate. At last, the humans combined themselves into a nation, and they named it Mandor, but the elves could only pronounce it as Ander.

Now, unbeknownst to all, the humans had a special power because of the Rift, and they thought it normal that they were able to hear the whispers of spirits, or ghosts, as they called them. The humans explored this ability, and they began to believe that the spirits were deceased family coming back from their second life. Then, two decades after the formation of Mandor, the humans began to construct an enormous tower. For they said, Let us rise higher and call our to the high spirits, to hear their wisdom more clearly and do them service, and they will make us great. So the tower grew higher and higher. When the Thendári found out and commanded them to cease, the humans became angry and chased them from their land with violent agression unlike anything the elves had experienced except from the most wild and dangerous of preying beasts.

Then Alos was roused in indignation, and the Thendári saw in their minds a second Rift, and this they would not allow, no matter the cost. In one day the elves rose up as one, arming themselves for battle, for where humans fought with knives and stones, elves knew well the use of blade and bow. There would be no second Rift. The sildári mortality would be visited upon them sooner even than their natural course. And so it was. The humans were massacred and routed before the teeming army of agile elven warriors. One battle after another, each one a vicious slaughter and bloody pursuit, drove the humans out of their land and east, toward the sea. In the madness of combat, over months and months of war, the elves thought to drive them to their deaths and drown their transgression in the waves. But humans are strong, and their will is stronger. Fleeing to the sea they carved crafts for themselves and escaped. It is said that some even swam to cross the sea.

The Thendári watched them go, safe in the knowledge that escape had not saved the Sildári from their mortal fate. Ander was no more.

. : The Paladins of Aendrel : .
From bloody stain of the Ander massacre, the defiled land and thendári required an age to recover. During the first few years, the Thendári returned to their forests, having to cross field after field full of blades, bodies and blood. It was a long, slow, gut-wrenching journey. The elves left the land to the birds, the beasts, and the forces of nature. Over time, through desolation and dearth and the slow march of fauna, the land began to heal. The hearts of the Thendári, however, still burned with guilt, despite their justified cause. Alos took pity on their suffering and, for a time, allowed Araltári through the portal to commune with the troubled elves. This lit two caves with one lamp, so to speak, for it had been far too long since the beings of Light last had a chance to commune with the Thendári. The Araltári had a chance once again to feel fulfillment in the dance of creativity, and the Thendári were brought out of their dark reverie, into the light of renewed wonder.

With the race of Light-dwellers, the Thendári relived the joy of a kindred nature, for the hearts of Thendári and Araltári are each a perfect complement to the other. From the communion with Light, the Thendári relearned virtue and the value of sharing. Spending time with the Araltári, the elves of Aendrel were consumed by a passion for others, to reach out and connect with the world around them. The time of isolation was over.

This was the day Alos had been waiting for. Yet it was not so simple as the elves thought. The Thendári had forgotten what the world was like. Alos knew the nature of a world without light. It was a dark and cruel place. The elves would need to protect and be protected. Outside their homeland, they would need strength and courage as well as passion and light. And the undying Thendári must not desert their post before the Rift.

The twenty-six elders of Aendrel wished to send out ambassadors, merchants, artisans and musicians, and ordinary folk out into the rest of Emoria, but they must not travel alone. Thendári must stay together, and they must have the power to protect themselves from untoward encounters and unknown dangers. Alos promised to supply that power. From that day forward, he decreed, all who were willing may learn the ways of light and justice, to be armed and armored with the gear and focus of Light.

Those years became known as the days of Alos's Forge, for Alos himself took silver and steel and gold brought by the Thendári, and he crafted metal into armor and blades of such strength and such brightness as would put to flight the devices of Shadow. For while Alos cherished the Thendári and wanted them to grow and thrive, he had another purpose for training them in the arts of war. The Shadow was spreading, as ever it was wont to do. The world was growing darker by the year. Through the Thendári, Alos finally had a chance to balance the scales and drive the darkness back beyond its own borders. He had prepared and planned for this chance, and he did not intend to waste it. Alos's Forge glowed bright in the light of his craft.

When at last the Thendári were ready to reach out to the rest of Emoria, Alos revealed the results of his and willing thendári efforts. Elves garbed in green, wearing weightless white armor and wielding bright blades. Paladins for the Light. Their armor was made of isildin, a new metal of steel, silver and Light, extremely lightweight and yet harder than steel, and it was trimmed with gold. Isildin, too, were their blades--masterfully crafted, double-edged longswords--glowing with the essense of Alos's element. Some of the paladins were to augment each group of traveling thendári, providing protection and a tie-post to Alos. The rest would be sent on assignments of their own. Alos made no claim on the pursuits of their lives outside of their quests, requiring only that they remain true to the Light. The paladins quickly came to embody the spirit of Aendrel in the minds of the Thendári, becoming an emblem for their kind.

And at last the Thendári emerged from Irrihyánë, and encountered a whole new world. They won little fame or renown among the peoples of Emoria in those days, for they felt subdued and overwhelmed, and they kept a low profile. Nor did they feel ready to face their elven kin of Taurë Arda. The expeditions eventually became little more than a mass exploration. Maps were drawn and journals were kept. The influx of information returning to Aendrel was staggering. It was a time of great discovery; stories and legends were brought back to Aendrel, slowly at first, then in a constant stream. The tales of that age are without number.

One group at a time, the Thendári returned to Irrihyánë, back to the comfortable isolation of the forests of Aendrel. But they were neither downcast nor idle. Their thought was now bent toward the organization and study of all that they had discovered. So for a time once again the Thendári faded from the minds and histories of Emoria. But the Thendári Paladins were not to be kept hidden under the woodland shadows. Their desire was to do the work of Alos, and much of it there was to be done. More secretly now, Alos sent the paladins on missions for the Light, but the tales of their exploits are hidden, and few besides themselves know where their deeds end and those of others begin.

. : The Rise of Äm : .
When long had Vatienne been great and mighty among the nations of Emoria, it is said that elves in shining armor were granted an audience before the Emperor and the Papus together. Then was told the story of the Thendári. Of their path from Taurë Arda to Annûn. Of their trespass of the Spirits, the Rift and their responsibility over what they had wrought. Of their massacre of the sildári and the fall of Ander. They expressed the thendári remorse, and they offered the Vatienniens, descendents of the sildári, a chance to return to their homeland in friendship and welcome.

At first the Emperor and Papus had little notion of what the elves were speaking about, but before long it became clear that they spoke of Mandor, the lost land of their fathers. They remembered that name. Yet even as wrath boiled up at the recongition of their old enemy, the rest of the elves' words settled into their hearts. And the humans remembered, too, their gifts and their God. Allowing their Lord's teachings to wash all bitterness and vengeance from their minds, the Papus forgave the Thendári on behalf of his people, in the name of Sanctus Unus, and the Emperor expressed his delight that old enemies should become friends.

That same year, a colony of Vatienniens was established on the western half of Irrihyánë. Soon after, to commemorate an official alliance, the Emperor awarded the elves of Aendrel an allocation of land within the very city of Vatienne. While the Thendári constructed a castle and planted a garden there in Vatienne, the human colony on Irrihyánë multiplied as humans were born and Vatienniens immigrated thence. When the place was large enough, the land was officially dubbed New Vatia.

It was not two centuries, however, before New Vatia rebelled against the Vatienne Emperor's control. By sheer force of numbers, it was impossible for Vatienne to enforce its rule over New Vatia. It was the Papus who supplied the solution. A treaty was drawn, that if the humans of Irrihyánë would stay true to their God, then they were free to live independent of Vatienne supervision, for their Lord's spirit would forever bind their hearts and purposes together as one. The humans of Irrihyánë agreed, and they changed the name of their land accordingly. Calling it after the spirit of their God for a testimony to future generations, they forever sealed their pact, and named their land Äm.

. : The Age of Spirit : .
When Aendrel was wise and Äm was young, a great peace and harmony settled over the face of Irrihyánë. The Sildári came once again into their own, feeling their gifts of the Spirit magnify in proximity to the elf-guarded Rift. As the culture of Äm began to distinguish itself from Vatienne, the ties remained strong between the now three nations--Vatienne, Äm, and Aendrel. Ritual and ceremony returned and integrated itself, but it was kept pure by the humans's much greater experience in matters of Spirit, as well as by a greater willingness to respect the counsel of the Thendári and of Alos, the Lord of Light whom the Thendári served.

Indeed, if anything, the Sildári religion expanded into the minds of their Thendári neighbors, for the Spirit Plane was very real to them, though they could not commune with it as could the Sildári. So time went on, and an age of peace and of Spirit ensued. Learning from one another, Thendári and Sildári grew and developed together in strong accord.

. : The Zeal of Alos : .
((This will bring us to the present, telling more about my paladins and how Thendári are getting to know their old elven kin again, among lots of other ventures. must PM Kathryn.))