A History of the Covenant Lands [IC Posts]

The Prophet’s Teachings:

It was a relatively peaceful morning. The slaves are labouring away in the stone quarries and logging camps to continue expanding the city of La’eka Warued. A group of Zaangor youths are laughing as they kick about an orphaned elf teen, while helpless adults look on. Then, the peace is broken as a shout rang out in the streets.

"Listen everyone! Listen, all ye who wishes to hear of the true plans of Zaang! Come down to the Church of Ashen-Zaang if you wish to hear from The Daring Prophet! It’s 3 houses down from the third Elf Shelter!" The young Zaangor cried out his message as he runs throughout the city.

Meanwhile, a gathering crowd forms at the burnt down meeting place. The Daring Prophet watches at her interested listeners as she stands on top of a pile of ruined wood.

"I shall now begin my lesson today! Today’s topic is: what truly happened? I shall start from the very beginning. The world is created by an entity called The Creator. The Creator made the races in this land, but others, such as us Zaangors, are created by Zaang. One of The Creator’s creation is called The First Man. The First Man found evil in the Creator, and he so attempted to fight It.

The epic battle concluded with The First Man being defeated. The Creator put him to sleep, as he was too powerful to completely destroy. The First Man eventually woke up again, and renames himself The Ashen King. He gathered himself a great army to fight again, but the Creator defeated his army with It’s own followers. The Ashen King was put to sleep yet again, and he will too rise again. He learnt his lesson, and that he will try again with not only a greater army, but with a cunning plan he made while hiding in the realm of death.

Now, some of you may not like this next part, but what I say is true! The Ashen King manipulated Kor, the god of war, to kill Zaang. He then convinced Nug, the god of death, to compel us to sacrifice our souls to merge Him with Zaang. He then reincarnated himself into Zaang, thus that is why He, and us, became different. I refuse to call it corruption, more as salvation that he chose us to be part of His great army to destroy the tyrant Creator.

This revelation does not undermine our nation’s fate of being prosperous, in fact it made it all the more concrete! We will join forces with Ashen-Zaang to claim the entire world one day! Perhaps even the realms beyond!"

As the cult of Ashen-Zaang spread, it was bound that one of the Elders begin to lean in on the idea as well. Elder of Cloaks, the spymaster, was particularly fascinated by this theology. When he was appointed to claim the southern lands, his battle cry was: "From the darkness of His ashes, we shall dominate all!"

Week 3: The Whitestone City
A city? A city in the desert?
That has been the rumor on everyone’s minds since the arrival of the strange caravan from the Desert Wastes. For years the caravan had wandered the Wastes, carrying on the traditions of their forefathers that had resisted the call of the Shadow King all those years ago. Long ago had they forgotten their exiled nature, finding joy in wandering the sands and residing in the few Oases they could find.
It was in their search for their next home, so they say, that they came across the dead city. Long had it been abandoned and seemed mostly swallowed by the sands. But parts of the city lay untouched, as if unseen hands took the time to keep their homes swept of debris. The city gleamed in the desert sun, built of white stone and glass. It was open, and flowing, as if built for beauty and not defense. It was the seeming antithesis to the dark city of Vax Kaggath.
As much of a topic as it was in the lower city, it was of greater importance to those within the upper echelons of Oszeth. The first issue they foresaw was they nature of their new guests. While they shared their heritage, they did not share the ideals of the city. The were caring and charitable, even forgiving to those of the city that had taken advantage of their generosity. It was sickening to see, but for the most part, they seemed harmless. It was plain to see that they had no intention of staying in the city, simply stopping by to share stories with their neighbors and stock up on supplies.
The second issue were the rumors. It seemed unlikely that anyone could have survived that long in one spot that far out in the desert. It was even more unlikely that they would be there long enough to build a city. It would need investigated. Mordith was already mobilizing troops to go and search for it, and while they were at it, they would search for other habitable areas within the wastes.

Week 3: In the Mountains of Damnation
It had been only a week, but the renovation of the monastery into a fortified outpost was almost complete. The newly raised dwarves were hard at work, though they could only do so much. They were relatively brainless, but some instinctual aspect of their heritage made them good for the labor. Allisande had converted the central reliquary into his chamber. Not needing to sleep any longer, his room contained a desk, spread with maps and various instruments, as well as a shrine of sorts.
In life, he would have considered himself a devout follower of the Creator, an instrument of divine will. He would still consider himself devout, but his allegiances had been… altered. It was all still dark, the details of his rebirth. He knew that it was the Shadow King that had guided him through the darkness and had pieced it together that it was his magic that brought him back from the dead. But what had killed him. He remembered very little of his time in Vax Kaggath, but it did not matter. He had been shown the path to salvation. Something was coming, and he would do everything in his power to stop it. Starting with this.
He looked over his handiwork, a letter to his old order. He would have to cleanse it before it could be sent. Even the newest of his order would be able to smell the dark magic from within him and that had been hidden in the ink. A compulsion. He wrote to them his location, and bid they bring a large force of their greatest warriors. He knew now that his former master’s ideology was flawed. They were the weapons of the Creator, His divine blade held within the hands of men. But he knew now that their power was not the Creator’s. The power to kill could not come from Him…
He would wait for them, and in the meantime, he would ready himself for their arrival.

Thing were progressing within Oszeth. The Shadow King’s influence spread beneath the sand like roots. Unknown to the populace, they were being prepared for war. A great war that had never ceased from the beginning of all things. A great war that had only seen a split in the power of one side. He who thought He was the victor retreated to lick His wounds while the other side fought among itself to see who the newest challenger would be.
From the highest tower of the Palace, a lone figure scanned the surrounding desert. They knew of the war and were doing their best to prepare for it. Already, they could see the great, black wall of stone taking shape near the slopes of the mountains to the east. The lands of Oszeth would extend beyond it, but its dark heart would be protected by the bleeding stones of Vax Kaggath.

The Climate of Rivellesk

The Road of Red Rime

In some of the harshest Winter Twilight years, parts of the Zendir Ocean freeze over. The only passable routes are those which hug the mainland coastline; the routes between the islands are sometimes all but unnavigable. The main shipping lane is not without its dangers, deep fjords allow for smooth sailing, but proximity to the coast is never a good idea, considering the extensive developments the Rivellians have constructed both above and under the water, together with the tritons.

Last year was one such year. It’s been months past the season of Twilight, yet glaciers of ice continue to clog the northernmost shipping lanes. Ninnorej and Tenczek plows, ships with a rounded bow and ice-floe resistant iron hull plates have been hard at work in their ice-breaking tasks, cutting criss-crossing lines from island to island, which chop the glaciers into more mobile icebergs, which the currents can then move southeasterly into warmer waters. The Slesshelissians have also aided the task from below, using gravity magic to divert deep water currents to doing the same.

Last month, their concerted efforts met with a phenomenon first recorded in the scientific journals of Kresta En von Leithau three centuries ago. It was a solid mass of ice, flat, without elevation, unlike a glacier. It had depth, but was vertical, not wedge-shaped, and extended miles, not feet, downwards. The most notable feature of this ice was that it formed in straight lines, was rock solid, and red. Red ice.

"... this Road of Red Rime extends as far as my magic could see. It seems to have issued from the volcano of flame and frost, an impossible combination of magma and ice, both hot and cold at the same time. It has mass as if it were solid rock, igneous rock, but with the crystalline properties of ice. Shaped as shards, straight, unbreakable by conventional means, it sits over the water, bisects the sea into chords and quadrants. The central shard seems to me like a road, a supernal walkway, wider than the main thoroughfare of the imperial road. It beckons me to go, and I shall not decline…"
- From the papers of Kirste En von Leithau

Duergar Troubles:

There has been a rising issue of Duergar raiders attacking the logging camps and quarries. They have been known to kill the slaves and a few Zaangors before leaving with a few stolen materials. The Elder of Ropes, the primary slavemaster, has been fed up with these attacks, and of course, so is the ruler of the city.

Hra’an believed that a peaceful relationship could be potentially formed with the Duergar, however, the raiders have proven to be a difficult element to stage a diplomatic interaction with, so he decided that the first course of action is to properly take control of the land around the region of the attacks to better defend against the Duergar for now. Eventually, New Zaangoria will find a good opportunity for a talk with the undercity leaders concerning an amicable relationship and put a stop to the attacks, but now is not the right time.

He sent the Elder of Tongues to lead the expansion into the eastern lands. The Elder have nothing much to say of this given duty other than "I hope this won’t take too long, or be too dangerous. But I’ll try to have some of the Duergar captured, for the sake of understanding these barbarians…"

They march forth into the forest to set up patrols around the region near the base of the mountain range. The Zaangors keep watch throughout the day and night. They would even climb and sleep in the trees to hide their positions. Their efforts paid off when a band of Duergar raiders eventually come forth to try their luck in pillaging more supplies. The raiders are cornered and slaughtered. A few was managed to be captured alive, albeit badly bloodied. The Elder met with the captured raiders and attempt to study their language.

It took a while, and a couple of torture and executions to get some results. It was, however, not sufficient enough for basic communication, and so it took one or two more unlucky groups of opportunists to be defeated for the Elder to finally get an idea of common words and phrases they use so as to get a good sense of the motivation of their raids.

The Elder soon sent a messenger to deliver a message to Hra’an. It was about the Duergar knowing that an unknown army, which is the Zaangors, have passed through the passageway of the mountain that was right above the Duergar’s home. The nearby settlement of Lake Wood was found to be invaded by the army, and is now in disarray. The Duergar figured that sending raiding parties is a good idea as the outlying territory is exposed, and that stone and wood are being generated in that region.

With this knowledge, Hra’an decreed that more efficient defences are to be sent up around the outskirts of the city, especially in the border facing the mountain.

Week 2 – Malstar
To say Malstar was confused was an understatement. She’d been given a report this morning that caught her eye from just how unexpected it was. Cows….flowing downstream? Many of them. Immediately, she’d ordered several scouts to follow the river to try and ascertain what happened and who was causing it. Currently, she was walking to the Inistra’s main section.

Entering the room, she immediately began looking for Nali, the Head Researcher. Asking around proved fruitless so she began looking in every single room, entering a rather large room, the test room. As soon as she got in, a net covered her, immobilising her.

On instinct, she wriggled and writhed, fruitlessly attempting to escape, assuming some sort of betrayal. After a few seconds of not being dead, she stopped, looking around with what little she could see. Nothing. The room was empty. That thought lasted about 5 seconds before she heard a familiar laugh from above her.

"Ah, the little mouse has fallen into a trap, the dastardly villain, Nali, has the hero at their mercy, one strike and it’d all be over."

Malstar rolled her eyes and exaggerated a groan "Get this net off me, Nali, or I’ll make you work weekends."

Nali hopped down from the ledge she’d been standing on, dragging a net with her, which she pulled off of Mastar. She reacted to the weekends comment with pretend horror "You wouldn’t dare, this county must truly lost to tyranny if its leader would do that." She then offered her hand to Malstar who took it and got up.

Nali then immediately walked away while dragging the net, expecting Malstar to follow, which she does. "I asked you to solve the livestock in the river and you decide to catch me in a net…please tell me you’ve made progress…"

"What do you think I caught you with, Ella?" Nali smiled and folded up the entire net into a neat pile.

Sighing at the use of her old nickname, Malstar just asked a simple question "A net?" After a few seconds of thinking it over, Mal spoke again "I gave the head researcher a task directly…and she develops a net? A normal net?"

Nali chuckled a little "of course not, Ella, it is an improved net and not just a net." She shows Malstar over to a structure resembling a spit roast cut in half vertically, like a gate. "This is the thing I’ve been working on for the river. It’d stop anything from coming down the river."

Malstar nodded and smiled widely "good job, I’ll get some to the river." She was interrupted however by Nali, who excitedly jumped in front of her.

"I’ve already done that, Ella, they should arrive in half an hour" She was smirking widely "I did good, didn’t I?" She chuckled, almost looking like a puppy.

Malstar nodded and sighed, patting her head a little "Good job, I’ll send you a letter soon, we need to talk about something." With that, she left for her office.

Undala

The Chancellor was sitting with her head in her arms on her desk. This wasn’t uncommon, in fact it was much more common than it should’ve been. She hadn’t been planning for this position, she hadn’t been ready. Malstar was who she’d wanted to be Chancellor...her place was not in administration...

This was interrupted by her secretary knocking and then coming into the room, putting some papers on her desk "You’ll find this interesting, ma’am." Before Undala can even ask her to remember to use her first name in private, she was already gone.

Curious, Undala opened up the file, quickly reading through it. It was a report on the results of a diplomatic mission to a nearby land. She smiled a little to herself "Lucy! I could kiss you right now! You just saved this train wreck of a day!!! Drinks on me after work!"

Undala then made her way to Malstar’s office just as she got back. She saluted Malstar, who immediately sighed and flicked her forehead "No saluting, remember, you are my superior now."

Undala pouted a little as she look at Malstar "but I wanna...." She pretended to be like a child as she then walked into the office as she pulled Malstar with her, who sighed more.

"Dala, please refrain from doing that...it’s hard enough dealing with Nali when she’s not with you."

Undala smirked and nodded "as you wish, Ella. Business it is. I need you to expand the defence of our lands to the west and the east, the local governments have signed a deal with us. They are being incorporated"

Malstar looked surprised but excited, hugging Undala and running to the desk to write an order, giving it to her secretary and giving her orders. She then walks to a closet, getting her armour out "Help me out, Dala, I’m taking command of a legion."

Undala nodded and started putting the armour on her "You will be going? For any particular reason?"

"To see if I can, but we are going to keep it secret and I’m using my own personal guard instead of a normal legion. I can’t have this getting out, I’ll become a target and put our new territory in danger" She sets out once she’s suited up.

Leonus

Leonus was looking over several reports, always at work. "Come in!" He said before the officer had even knocked on the door. A spy came in, passing him a note "truly? Invasion of Lakewood, we must request the Marshal to dispatch a legion at once! It is an isolationist society, we won’t have many more chances to improve their opinions of us."

He then got up and addressed the spy again "after that, dispatch orders to get nearby spies into Lakewood, we need to know what’s happening before we commit troops to a fight."

Next, he went back to his desk, writing and writing in order to document everything currently known about the invasion.

Leslisia

Leslisia got her orders as soon as she got back into the barracks, causing her to sigh. "Nobody unequip anything, we’ve got orders. Outside, 5 minutes." She headed out and, surprisingly, Ordinus wasn’t badgering in her ear about some minor mistake or another. He stood at the head of the column as she inspected it before taking the banner of the legion and starting the march to the South. She knew other legions were going East and West but she had no idea why, seeing as the information was need-to-know.

She wasn’t exactly looking forward to the march. For some generals, it might’ve been the lack of information, not knowing whether this would be a defense or a seige or even knowing much about her own legion. However, for her, it was the fact she had to march next to Ordinus for several days with next to no respite. She often found herself thinking the same thought over and over. How did he manage to anger Malstar so much as to demote him instantly? The answer is almost immediately given to her in the form of some sexist or racist or really just any sort of xenophobic or classist comment.

Kurusawa: Week 3

Hiroshi paused outside the Emperor's throne room and checked over his armor. He buffed out a spot with his sleeve. It would not do to be less than perfect when greeting one's lord. Taking a deep breath, he pushed the doors open and entered the room. The room was impressively large, decorated in the delicate, spartan style preferred by the people of Kurasawa. A few paintings hung on the walls, and there was a vase here or there, but by and large, the room was empty.

Two guards, dressed in the ceremonial armor of the samurai stood, one to either side of the door. Across the room, at the opposite end, the Emperor sat, his throne also flanked by samurai. Slightly behind and to the left of the Emperor sat his wife and the remainder of the Imperial Council behind them. Hiroshi approached the throne and bowed deeply and respectfully.

"My lord", he said.

The Emperor waved his hand, indicating that Hiroshi should rise, which he did. "Speak to me, Hiroshi, my most trusted general. Tell me what is happening in my Empire."

Hiroshi cleared his throat. "All is well, Majesty. The people are happy and everything is in order."

"And the expansion?"

"All is in readiness, Majesty. On your command, we will proceed with the invasion of the southeastern province. We anticipate no resistance."

Very well, proceed."

"Yes, Majesty."

Hiroshi bowed deeply again and left the presence of the Emperor. He hurried back to his horse and started the ride back to the front.

The Emperor turned to his council, seeking their opinions. Though he was the ruling hand, he knew the wisdom in seeking the advice of others. They nodded reassuringly, knowing, as did he, that expansion was necessary if the Empire was to thrive. The southeastern province was fertile land, perfect for growing rice and other essentials. It would be a good acquisition.

But still, the Emperor was concerned.

Post 1: The Betrayal
The Commander of the Guard

Marching west was uneventful. Either the Wind's Whisper Company has been successful in fighting off the brigands or the sheer power of the Lady's Dance Company was enough to keep them far away from the old imperial road. They have already met with The Moon's Grace Company before crossing the border with Southcove and now that they arrived at the second meeting point, they had to wait for the Earth's Spear Company to rendezvous from Northcove. Strangely, there had been no sign of Southcove’s army as they freely marched on enemy lands. He noticed that the Lady of the Eleven was getting tense as she noticed one of the scouts returning. She was intrigued by the lack of opposition. "I will meet with the scout, milady" the Commander of the Guard said as he quickly rode to meet his man without waiting for her reply. His mind was on something else and he needed that space away from his army to think about his next move. However, he was thrown off balance by the news. They would not be meeting anyone from Running, as the massive army sent to save the Imperial Senate was ambushed and decimated by none other than Unilith, who have been very quiet up to now! This obviously ruined his plans… There was no time to wait. He rode back with the scout, as calmly has he possibly could, given the situation. With his mind elsewhere, he completely ignoring his companion’s word about the diplomatic mission. As soon as he reached close enough to the Lady, the Commander ispoke with a strange smile "Unilith did Running like they did us before", he takes out his sword, the fine metal reflecting the sun’s light as if signalling an incoming attack. The camp suddenly broke into chaos, as others followed his action. But then it was when it happened… As the Commander was ready to strike down the Lady herself, the ground shook violently…


Post 2: The Earthquake
Event: An earthquake shakes the land. Its epicenter is in the desert to the east.
Overseer of the Roads

After the political earthquake, a real one shook the old lands, but the Overseer of the Roads felt strange about all of this. As an Archdruid, his faith was on the spirits of the lands, but he had never met a spirit that would shake the ground like that. The truth is that, even though the earthquake did cause a lot of damage and deaths, re-building would not take too long. However, it almost felt like a symbolic godly act when the land shook, almost as if the land itself felt the "political earthquake"… "Could Avencia have returned?" he wondered for some moments. The fact is that, the old empire collapsed under the pressure and this was the last drop. The Covenant was no more. After taking Running as if it was candy from a child, Unilith took advantage of the destruction of Windrise by a massive wave consilidade their graps on the Old Eastern Lands. Rumours were quick to spread, blaming the mages from Unilith for the earthquake. But the Overseer felt it was from further away, maybe even from something darker… And now, the news of the Lady of the Eleven’s assassination and the mysterious disappearance of the Mouth of the Land. It seems like there is another earthquake coming, but this time brewing inside the Confederation itself.

The problem was clear, without the Mouth of the Land and with no news from the Commander of the Guard from the west, it was up to him, the Overseer, to re-group and take action. As the Guardian of the Library noticed, the northern ports lost most of their fleet during the earthquake and, with Goldport lands already split by Cloudspire, the North Trade Alliance would not last long. On top of that, it seems like Cloudspire's allies did answer their call for vassalage, swearing allegiance to the new heir. It would be a matter of time until the Old Western Lands would be under one ruler again. But the Foundation, hopeless with its allies in ruins, the rescue army obliterated, and the Imperial Senate shattered by the claim of the throne, was just there for grabbing. It was clear that those lands were spoils for the taking, in a free for all run to gain more land, more power and more leverage in the new political landscape. And so he gathered all the available forces, pushing the recruitment as far as he could and launched a full scale invasion of Foudation, hoping to reach the old capital itself.

Post 3: Peace of ashes
Event: War in the Old Lands has simmered down, and it's mostly cold now. Your position on both coasts, along with your neutrality in the war, has set up the Marches to be a hotbed of espionage and defection.
(The one councillor)

Everything was going much better than he had planned. Since the Archdruid made it to Guardian of the Library, he worked hard to get the elven tribes where they should be: at the Center of the Covenant. The earthquake was godsend and he would be sure to praise the spirits by building a magnificent city to the spirit of the Sun, maker of light and fire, scorcher of earth and the bringer of ash.

All it took was the Margrave’s one mistake: electing him to the council. Presumably taken by Foundation spies, he provided the perfect excuse for retaliation, which the Overseer of the Roads, Archdruid of the Land, successfully carried, claiming most of the Old Senate’s lands before Cloudpire could react. But he saw to it that the Margrave would be nowhere to be found… Strangely, he is yet to receive news from the Commander of the Guard. Having seen the military skill of the Overseer, it was clear that hiring the veteran of the Imperial Council Guard wasn’t a military sound choice, however, he was loyal to his contract and the rumour was that the Lady of the Eleven, Archdruidess of the Moon, was targeted for assassination. He was impatient to hear about what happened…

The Mouth of the Land… Now, that was a stubborn human noble that has always distrusted him. Walking down the Margrave's palace, he could tell that the old man had been right all along, since he was now rotting in the dungeons. Finding where he was hiding the Imperial Senate’s spies just made him a traitor, maybe even a scapegoat Lady’s assassination…. With the Master of the Guilds taken away by the Appraiser of Arts to build his new city he, the Guardian of the Library, stood alone in the Confederate Council, where is quickly declared a state of emergency, declaring himself The One Councillor for the Confederacy of the Eleven Marches, the Convenant’s Gate, Northvale and Foundation or... the Elven Empire as he fancied it in private.

The Wind’s Whisper Company did a good job on those brigands, but he still had some sahuagin and lizarkfolk under his pay. All that was missing now was to send them against the Marches themselves. Those beasts were sure to get themselves killed and take some of the other Archdruids with them… He would not let the unrest brewing after the rumours of the Lady’s demise be a problem.

As he entered the palace's meeting room, he looks at the archage of Unilith and the heir to the Imperial throne. Neutrality payed off very well, with all the spies and defectors running loose at Covenant’s Gate, he knew of both their secrets, and the military prowess shown by the Overseer at the eastern front was a statement that these two couldn’t ignore. A new era was afoot for the Empire, which would now be led by the triumvirate made up by the Magocracy of the West, the Kingdom of the East and, pitting them against each other them, the Central Elven Confederation. Further to the power sharing, Foundation’s lands would be split: Unilith would get Fireheart and the Council lands, Cloudspire would get Foundation’s coastal lands and Stillbourne and the Marches would get Willowvale and Foundation.

The Politics of Rivellesk

The Tsunami

There were three whales atop where the village of Avala used to be. It was a small village at the edge of one of the smaller satellite islands of Hetvmik. Fishermen, and also weavers of fishing nets, made up its small community, no more than sixty or seventy adults in total. A massive tidal wave, nearly fifty feet high, had crashed into the southwestern island coasts of Rivellesk. The Hetvmician sea-priests had detected its impending arrival, but the scale of the tsunami was such that its force could only be mitigated, not prevented. The weather wizards would later go on to explain how the tectonic plate of the western half of the continent as it slips under the Scorching Sea caused a catastrophic seismic shift whose wave shoal hit the Rivellian islands with a magnitude not previously seen before. While many villages have been completely washed away, what is even more concerning is the loss of hundreds of ships and craft of all sizes. Even for hardy sea folk, this was a death toll that people feared to tally. No one wanted to dig under those whales.

Hetvmik and Vodspitz

Marczhaal Vailennor of Hetvmik arrived at Vodspitz castle, face as black as thunder. His initial purpose was already a serious one, one that concerned the honour of Hetvmik, but that purpose was overtaken by a larger crisis that had affected the island folk of all Rivellesk. Count Delmark, aging castellan of Vodspitz, hurried down to his audience chamber to convene a hasty court session even as the mighty Marczhaal stormed into the great hall.

"More than two thousand dead, and twice as many missing. We’ll require Vodspitz’s coffers to open up. And resettlement on the mainland until the affected islands are habitable again."

"Of course, it shall be so." Count Delmark signaled to his seneschal to make the necessary arrangements. The recent expansions mainland afforded the luxury of accommodating the thousands of displaced folk making their way to the peninsula proper. There should be space for all to settle, for now.

"And now, the reason I came in the first place." His mailed fist thumped the oaken table, and opened to reveal a fine luminous, iridescent necklace that looked as if it were made of suspended water droplets. "The Slesshelissan queen’s necklace, recovered from the Jolly Squall." The tension in the court was so thick it could be cut with a knife.

A knife that appeared seemingly out of nowhere in the form of Sir Tarent Cliognier, Knight Commander of the Order of the Spire.

The Factions of Rivellesk

The Knights of the Spire

In the Covenant years, the government of Rivellesk was entirely run by the empire, from its seat in Vodspitz. The count, the military, the bureaucrats formed the court, but invited the chiefs of the various islands to also share a seat in the court, appointing them barons, and treating them as vassals. The sea barons were content with this arrangement. What was slightly less palatable was a subsequent decree. The empire saw it fit to reinforce its militaries all over the continent with its knights. Ennobled by the emperor himself, these knights were to serve as advisers, generals, mediators, sometimes spies, in the lands they were deployed to. Sometimes their stint was a short one of a few years, in others, they stayed their entire lives in those nations, without ever returning home. Notable was their vow of celibacy; they served only one purpose: king and country.

The knights who served Vodspitz were given the name the Order of the Spire (the Ordo Spitz). While they did some good in protecting the lands from the enemies of Rivellesk, they were largely a tolerated nuisance when they tried to make themselves useful on the islands proper. Fully armoured knights had no place in sea battles and trade disputes, nor did their more constraining values sit well with the easy going ways of the island people. The legendary duel, a friendly match, between the Marczhaal of Tenczek and the Knight Commander a century ago. Both men had fought for hours, evenly matched, with no end in sight. The Spire knight had hewn away most of the Marczhaal’s defences, but the legendary constitution of the Tenczek made him indefatigable. Close to striking his final blows, the knight raised his greatsword, and then ground to a halt, immobilised. It seemed that the ocean-magic of marczhaal’s cutlass had rusted the knight’s armoured joints into place, disabling his ability to move.

The lost years saw the withdrawal and disappearance of all the empire’s leaders and forces, including the knights. The Order seemed doomed to be relegated to a page of forgotten Rivellian history. Then two months ago, the Vodspitz’s castle mausoleum saw a terrible commotion. One of the central tombs opened, the sarcophagus within came alive. The priests were summoned, foul necromancy was feared, but the mummy made no hostile moves. Unwrapping itself, the newly revived person of the Knight Commander from a century past, Sir Tarent Cliognier, was found underneath the shroud cloths, with no memory of how he died (if he indeed died, for no wounds nor decay were discovered on his person) nor any explanation for why he should be found within the mausoleum, when all connected to the empire had vanished without a trace.

The Discovery of Malgeri:

Hra'an was taking a walk amongst the skull garden besides his Fort when The Elder of Cloaks sneaked up to him.

"Brother, I would like to offer an advice."

"What is it, Cloaked Brother?"

"With the issue of the Duergar causing trouble, I advice sending out scouts to observe them, and also to explore the further regions. We do not know if there may be similar nations that wish to harass us."

"Yes. Do send your Spies to investigate the outer lands." Hra'an says as he caresses a skull of a fallen Zaangor.

Soon the assistants of The Elder of Cloaks are sent on their way to explore the regions outside, and report back in a couple of days. Soon, there was a discovery of a nation towards the North-West of New Zaangoria.

Further scoutings reveal that it is called Malgeri. It is very well defended, with wooden walls being built in the outer borders, with fully built stone walls further back. The guards that stand watch appears to be of the human race.

Hra'an decided that this nation is also something to be careful of. The way it is set up looks quite formidable. Future diplomacy attempts is to be considered.

As for now, it is decided that a Horde is to hold land nearer to this nation. This is to ensure that any raids from that nation are well defended against, and that more new buildings for the slaves and Zaangors can be built. So the Elder of Thoughts is appointed to lead an army to claim the land towards the North. "Let's soon have a meeting with our lovely neighbours!" was his battle cry.

Soon, the land further in the North-West was taken. The slaves that were brought along were put to work to chop down trees and build wooden walls and ditches with spikes as defence, while also setting the area for future buildings for the slaves and Zaangors.

Notable Peoples of Rivellesk

The Mystery of Ser Tarent Cliognier and the Slesshelissan Queen's Necklace

"Are you insinuating that the Count had something to do with the loss of Queen Lisshilin’s necklace?" Ser Tarent Cliognier challenged. A deadly silence fell over the entire court. Even Court Delmark was speechless.

"I am optimistic that a better explanation of its discovery in The Jolly Squall than the most obvious one exists," answered Marczhaal Vailennor steely.

"Send for the diviners then." Cliognier signaled to one of the court’s functionaries.

"Hetvmik brings her own as well." Vailennor turned. At the entrance of the great hall stood a female triton, accompanied by who appeared to be a human priestess of the Seamother.

"The answer lies in who you are, Ser Tarent," came the liquid voice of the triton seer, a Tidemother, "Or more specifically, who you used to be."

"Please, lead us to the mausoleum." The priestess spoke up on behalf of seer as she led her by the arm for support.

As many as could file into the south chamber of the crypts below the castle followed them down. No one had been into this chamber for decades. The cavernous walls were covered in bas relief depictions of the important personages of the empire. The east chamber was where they had found Cliognier, presumed dead and buried, then revived, a mystery no one had been able to explain thus far.

"Tidemother requests that you open this one." With a mighty heft, Cliognier slid open the slab -

- and found himself staring at the perfected preserved body of the queen of Slesshelissa, her royal necklace of command around her neck.

"A simulacrum. Both the body, and the necklace." The Tidemother spoke a few syllables and touched the corpse, which immediately turned into water, leaving only the burial gown and jewelry behind. She slumped over the bier, as if her magic had been drained out of her, and both her priestess and Vailennor rushed forward to prop her up.

"The real question is, why was the empire making clones of all of us?"

The Shaking Ground:

It was another peaceful day. The Eastern camp is developing nicely. With the new housings and a newly built logging camp, the walls and spiked ditches of the Eastern border have been a good deterrent from further raids by the Duergar.

Suddenly, the ground begins to shake. It started as a slight vibration, which eventually led to sleeping Zaangors to fall off from the trees as it began to turn into an earthquake.

"Aahh!! What is going on?! Zaang, help us! We need to report to Hra’an!" The Zaangors screamed as they try to figure out what is happening and are trying to avoid being crushed by the recently built wooden buildings. A couple of Zaangors try to round up the slaves, while the rest ran up to The Elder of Tongues’ tent to ask about the situation.

"This is preposterous! How do I know what to do about this great shaking! All I can say is pray to Zaang that it ends quick!" He screamed at the gathering crowd.

There was a prayer session outside the tent, and a couple of minutes later, it stopped shaking. "Thank Zaang for the gracious Hope he gives unto us!" Cried the leader of the session.

The news of the sudden earthquake was brought to Hra’an, and he returned a message back to his Advisor. "This is a very troubling event. We too felt the vibrations from the ground. It is discovered that those who are in the Western region does not feel the ground shaking, and so it must be that it is within the Duergar Mountain that is the cause of this. A few Spies have been dispatched to investigate the city within the mountain. Please be ready for any attack by the Duergar, for this is a mysterious enemy."

Two Spies are indeed sent in to investigate. They passed through the Eastern Camp without bothering anyone, and they climbed the mountain before entering into the tunnel where the passage through was. It was remembered that the passage is pretty large, with side passages that are clearly carved with iron supports. The Duergar are still dwarves after all.

The Spies each pick a passage to cover more ground, and in case one of them got trapped. They traveled through the tunnels deeper into the mountain, and they finally arrived at the hollow interior where the city is.

There the Spies found a disturbing revelation. The Duergar are gathered around a collapsed stone statue of a massive Duergar head that is in the middle of the carver city. Some of the Duergar are worshiping it, while some are busy clearing away the rubble. The Spies can't help but feel that the sight is highly suspicious, and quickly reported back the finding.

Hra'an then send a message again to the Elder leader of the Eastern Camp. "It is a disturbing theory that we the Council have come upon. The Duergar is suspected to have not only caused the shaking, but that they are trying to create a giant made out of stone. We believe they are summoning a physical form of their god, but we can't be sure until further investigation can be made. We ask of you to continue hastening the development of the land, and continue your study of the Duergar tongue. May Zaang bless your efforts. - Hra'an."

Week 4: The Quaking Sands
Riots had broken out in the lower city. The damage from the earthquake had been minor, compared to the magnitude of the event itself. The city itself seemed to have been rocked by its foundations. At its worst point, many looked to the Palace, expecting it to crumble and fall. Thankfully, no substantial damage occurred, and even most of the Lower City was spared, thanks to the late Civic Works Councilor’s housing project.
Still, many citizens were left paranoid, and the more zealous among them cried out that it was the work of the Great Desert Wyrm.
"Qhaanh comes for us all!" the doomsayers would warn, stirring up the fears of the people. "For too long we have spat in the face of the Desert King! He comes to wipe his land clean of our blasphemy!"
These impromptu rallies ended in one of two ways: either the crowd would be stirred to action, taking to the streets to violently spread their newfound prophet’s gospel, or they would find it in their hearts to end the poor fool’s life quickly. The latter became more prevalent once the guards stepped in. A good few demonstrations were held in the Inner city, with the ringleaders and doomsayers of the first few rights meeting the ends at the end of a rope.
The council had more pressing things to deal with than the rioting, however. While the city had been left structurally untouched, many of the workcamps near the Oszethite Wall had been swept away in the aftermath. Some of the remaining workers had been sent to the northern province to help uncover the camps and search for any survivors before they became lost to the sands. A few soldiers that could perform basic divination magic had been sent to lead the efforts, helping to uncover supplies and recover lives.
Within a few days, a few camps had been reestablished, though only about half of the initial workers survived the disaster. The Wall was well on its way to completion, stretching from the eastern province through this one to create a blockade between the two mountain ranges.
While things were well underway, the council thought it best if an envoy were sent to the east. This was no ordinary earthquake, and it was thought best if they discovered its origins, so they would know if they must prepare for its return. With construction almost complete, they also thought it prudent to introduce themselves to their neighbors. They would no longer be hiding in the Wastes.

Week 4: The City of Bones

It had been almost a week since we had left the safety of Vax Kaggath in search of the fabled Whitestone City. I travelled alongside the troops, assigned with navigating the Wastes and recording our journey and findings for the Histories of Oszeth. I had spoken extensively with the leaders of the caravan that had witnessed the City’s splendors, and they assured me that if we were to travel to the north-east, we would not be able to miss the white spires the jutted from the sand.
I was beginning to lose hope. Many miles we had crossed and was had yet to see anything among the dunes. The sun beat down on us, and I saw many murderous glares coming from the soldiers. Oddly enough, it was a disaster that gave me the break we needed to find our quarry. A great earthquake shook our camp, sending many of us to the grounds, and a few of us were lost to the shifting of the sands that followed. While the rest of the troops excavated themselves from their camps, I came across something. The sands had parted to reveal a path of wide stones, polished smooth by time.
After an altercation that almost ended with my head being prematurely separated from my person, I was able to point out my findings to the captain. While none of the men had very nice words to say about me, they were appeased that there was now a clear direction to take. It was a day’s march down the desert road that lead us to seeing our first glimpse of the city.
It was breathtaking. High into the air rose four spires of polished white stone, curving inwards towards a central point. They came nowhere close to touching each other, but the impression it gave was like the ribs of some great beast that had been lost to the sands. A soldier nearby said it reminded him of teeth, though I would rather do myself in than meet whatever might have teeth that large and pointy.
The city itself was of the same white stone and seemed as if it were built by someone who was not inclined to plan ahead. Great plazas and high towers were abundant, and walkways appeared wherever they were needed, sometimes hanging in the air to connect one tower to another.
We walked through the streets of the Whitestone City’s outer districts. I could see wonder even on the war-hardened faces of the soldiers. It was not until we reached the city proper that problems began.
Screaming, and then a bustle of activity. The forward scouts had returned, and one of their number was gravely injured. Upon reaching the border of the great spires, an arcane field materialized where he stood, causing him great pain. I did not get to see the man, but I was told that he dies in the infirmary tent not long after he was brought there. The curse of the spire’s became a topic of much discussion. Word was sent, via hawk back to the city for someone who could help us deal with this problem. We set up camp at the outer edges of the city, not wanting anyone to wander to close to the spire’s border.
The next day, I awoke early to a soldier telling me to meet the Captain in his command building. An expert had come to aid us in our problem. Rubbing the sleep from my eyes and the sand from my uniform, I entered and was shocked to see Councilor Ravelt conferring with the Captain. She listened intently to the problem, and after noticing I was there, she and the Captain listened to my reports and opinions about the issue.
I escorted Councilor Ravelt, or should I say, we were escorted by a small group of soldiers, to the border. She spent a good deal of time standing just before the field, muttering to herself and making notes in the sand with a long staff that she had brought with her. After she was satisfied with whatever decision she had made, she called us all to her. She sent the soldiers to collect things for her. Random items, it seemed to me, but she spoke with such authority that none of us dared to question her.
I was the first to return, having been sent to collect an empty inkwell and a stack of pristine paper. Even then, she had already cleared a large area in a nearby courtyard. A lectern had been found, upon which I placed my items. The other soldiers filtered in and I became to put together what was happening.
Taking a knife, she opened her palm, bleeding into the inkwell until it was almost full. Using her "ink" she scrawled things in script I couldn’t decipher unto the paper. Using her staff, she drew a complicated pattern into the sand, laying the parchment at specific points. When she was satisfied, she began to intone something. It was also in a language I did not know, though with what came next, I would not dare inscribe those words if I knew them.
Even in the brightest part of the day, the shadows lengthened around her, coalescing into a great shadowy beast. It twisted and turned upon itself, seeming to have no substance to its form, but it was massive just the same. Its great talons rested on the ground before her, causing the sand to stir as if each hand was a small cyclone. They stared into each other’s eyes for some time, communicating beyond words. Then it took to the skies.
I hope to live many more years, and in those years, I hope to never again see the likes of this creature. It screamed as it twisted in the wind, its maw filled with teeth as red as blood. It turned and circled the spires, eventually smashing itself into the field. We could all see the light from the city’s magic fighting against it, but the evil it contained was too strong, and the once invisible dome that protected the city shattered like glass.
The magic of the spire’s seemed to cause the beast pain too, but Lady Ravelt simply laughed at her triumph, even as her creation began to fade into nonexistence. The city was won, and without combat, but I fear many of us will be having nightmares about this day for months to come. We will soon be exploring the inner city, but for now, we celebrate the founding of Vax Nazrix, the City of Bones.
-Salanio Menelaus the Warrior Poet

Week 4: Within the Halls of Vax Nazrix
Alsobeth stepped casually through the ancient halls of the innermost structure of Vax Nazrix. The city must once have been a great seat of learning, as they pooled much energy into the construction of a grand library. The architecture was a thing of beauty and much of the literature within remained untouched by the elements thanks to the protection of the Spires. The bones of long dead scholars littered some chambers, hinting at the dark fate that befell the city.
After the Council had received the missive from the expedition, the Councilor’s curiosity could not be contained. She worked her magic to step directly into their camp, scaring a watchman nearly out of his skin and setting the troops abuzz with whispers of dark magic. If only they knew.
It wasn’t long after their search of the inner city that they discovered the place to be completely abandoned. And after that, it was only a matter of time before the Grand Witch of Vax Kaggath fell in love with the City of Bones. Naming herself Regent of the city, and surrounding province, she set about making herself at home within the library’s halls. Her first order was to begin excavating the outer city. The sands had done everything in its power to erase the city, but its magic was too strong.
The upper chambers of the tower were well furnished, obviously housing great mages and scholars of the past. She would be happy to continue her studies and experimentation her. It was in one of these chambers that she encountered an unexpected visitor. While he kept himself out of sight, she knew his voice well. He had taught her everything she knew about magic, including the darker arts in which she excelled.
Her skin crawled as the Shadow King spoke. He congratulated her on her victory and her resourcefulness in overcoming the barrier. It was no small feat, what she did, and she had earned the title she had claimed for herself.
She was relieved that he was not here to rebuke her for being so bold. He even seemed pleased. Their conversation turned to her place in Vax Kaggath. She could not very well watch over the treasury from here, and she was far to attached to her new home. Alsobeth agreed that a change would have to be made, but she would not be giving up her place on the Council.
She appointed another, with the King’s blessing, to take her place as the Councilor of Trade and Treasury. A former student of hers, as ruthless and conniving as her master. An elven maiden by the name of Vesrynn. Her discussion concluded with the creation of a new Council seat. Her new home made her the perfect candidate for Councilor of Historical Preservation and Arcane Research.

Week 4: Changes in Oszeth
Many changes had occurred in Oszeth within the past few days. The finalized construction of the Oszethite Wall was cause for celebration. The great black structure could be seen from the rooftops of Vax Kaggath. Along with that, steady communication and trade had been established with the new city of Vax Nazrix.
The new Councilor of Civic Works had his hands full with managing the workforces necessary to enact his next project. He proposed a road to Vax Naxrix, allowing for safe passage through the Wastes. A conventional road could be lost to the sands, but his road would not. He would carve a tunnel beneath the dunes, leading straight through the stone to each city. The tunnel would be safe from the elements and reinforced to withstand earthquakes greater than the most recent.
With all in favor, construction began, and another project was brought to his attention. With another Councilor added to the mix, the throne room could no longer contain all the members. With Alsobeth in Vax Nazrix, that wasn’t a huge problem, but she would need to be represented somehow.
With more clever ideas, Talak simply moved the thrones around, giving Alsobeth’s old one to Vesrynn, and installed a large mirror of polished stone in place of another throne. This mirror would be enchanted so that Alsobeth could project herself into the Council Chambers and still take part in the various meetings required of her, regardless of her self-proclaimed nobility.
It was also Talak’s pleasure to announce that his labyrinth beneath the city was complete and would now serve as the city’s prison. Those who were not executed were to be released into the subterranean tunnels, where the Councilor’s could magically watch them struggle to survive the treacherous traps and terrible monsters that had been released. The elven sorceress inquired as to the fate of those who stumbled upon the entrance.
Talak believed their fate was punishment enough for not leaving well enough alone.

The Children of Hra'an:

It had been months since The Elder of Visions and Hra'an have slept together. There is already rumours of this, but it is kept very hushed, and even considered to be slander amongst the common Zaangor. As The Priestess developed visible signs of pregnancy, she spends more of her time within her sleeping chamber in the Temple of Zaang to avoid being seen by the gossiping public.

As the new season rolls in, the issue of her child soon birthing cannot be ignored. And thus Hra'an's Spy Master, who secretly returned to the Capital after placing a decoy Spy to act as the Elder, visited him one day to discuss about it.

"How long, Brother, will you continue to ignore the birth of your son?" The Master Rogue asks quietly to Hra'an within the Leader's private chambers.

"I have told her to abort the child, but she refused. I feel she is growing more distant from me. Despite her disobedience to me, I can't bring myself to order a miscarriage to be brought to her. What do you think I ought to do?"

"I propose that you make the child your heir. I understand that you desire for your Advisors to appoint the next leader with the best qualities, but the people admire you, and if you have the child as your heir, your respect will continue on to them."

"No, it must be through an election that the leader is appointed. The people deserve to be led by a capable leader."

"Brother, if you refuse to make the child your heir, they will have revenge in the future. They will your destroy the reputation you have gained from your people. Don't make the Nation fall apart so soon. This is the best way, as assassinating the child will be obvious to our Sister, and she will hate you more."

"Fine, I shall consider your proposal. For now, once the child is born, I request that you take them to a family that you trust can take of them well. Sister have duties to attend to in the Temple, and it will give a bad image if The Priestess has a child running around in the Temple. Sister will be allowed to see her child every once in a while, so use your expertise and help her secretly watch her child at a distance."

Soon enough, the Elder of Visions fell into labour, and it was revealed that a batch of two babies, one male and one female, is born. The Elder of Cloaks did as he was ordered, and secretly brought the babies to a Zaangor couple to take care of them, and he continues to spy to make sure they are doing a good job.

As this was happening, The Elder of Books was sent to lead a Horde to take over the North-Eastern region. "Listen, you psychotic warriors. There may be nothing to fight with other than the usual forest beasts, so don't expect me to give a rousing battle speech or anything. Let's just carry on and claim the forest."

Week 4 - Leslisia

Marching for days with Ordinus was...a nightmare. Constant chatterings that could get him locked up if we were back in Insomnia and just his whole attitude were grating on one's mood. This was nothing compared to what they found as they crested a hill on their final day of marching.

Lakewood, now a well defended city filled with...birds? They were too late, but who were these peoples? They'd scouted all around and never found anything like this race. Now noticing how bad it would be to be seen with a legion in front of a city, Leslisia forces all her troops back with only herself walking forwards with a white flag to signify a wish for a talk, her most trusted subordinate looking out for any shenanigans Ordinus might pull.

Her heart was pounding but she kept her composure. Everything was too much how the Horde were like...a little less...methodical and far more primitive looking, though she resolves that's probably her humanity-based bias. What would she say? Would they just kill her? Do they know what a white flag means? They seemed to keep slaves so they might subject her to that.

Try as she might, she couldn't help her hand from shaking just a little, barely noticeably, as she approaches the city, hoping that she doesn't end up like Lakewood...

Undala

Why were there so many refugees? Even in an invasion, so many people wouldn't run...how bad would it be? Was the entire city destroyed? She couldn't help but have one intrusive thought...Why didn't they stay and fight as we did? We fought for 10 years and they just get it for free? She smacked herself to keep that thought away. We accept everyone...we went through hell but we shouldn't force everyone through it with us...

Instead of stay on this toxic line of thought, Undala instead started crafting orders, using her practiced writing skills that she was working on. Writing had never been her strong suit, neither had words...that was Malstar's job and she'd done so much better during the occupation. But she'd resolved to do better, to live up to Malstar's expectations and keep her creation growing and growing, a way to pay back for the efforts she'd put in for all of them.

Refugee tents outside of the city but away from anything important, away from the industry that would be unhealthy for them. She selected an area and got some guards and a complex of tents to house them. She also started getting the preparations ready for their integration into the Directive, the first big test of the system put in place for this sort of situation...and the first test of the people to accept these new arrivals...how many would react like her first thoughts?

That's a thought for later, she guesses, sending off the orders and then lying down on top of her desk to nap, as she did when she was stressed and overworked...which was always. For now, preparing a separate section of a province for them...to the West of Insomnia...the southern half.

Two legions were already being sent North West, so there should be a lot more space for the population, hopefully that would work, it had to...or people would be suffering in squalor.

Perhaps they should separate another province...the far south could use that, it'd be easier to manage them and develop them as they need specifically, instead of treating them as one big province. She'll do that once she wakes up, for now...napping.

Imala

"Finally! Some work that isn't some idiot getting a detail wrong!" Imala got out of her seat with a bright smile on her face. Development! Choosing her to do things! An invasion, so a new person to set up diplomatic relations with! Granted, they might be hostile but one can only help..." She started rambling, as always. Despite being the most calm and responsible normally, months of no meaningful work had coiled her like a spring, finally unleashed as she started running around the room, collecting supplies before sitting down, smiling.

She started writing orders, activating and reorganising certain divisions, preparing the entire Administra for the influx of work that would likely be coming in and to deal with the current orders from Undala. The practiced act of writing orders and handing them out calmed her down, though it was obvious she was excited.

She worked non-stop for several days, writing so much that every single small detail was written out, only delegating jobs to people who wouldn't be bothered from dealing with everyday work, especially those working on citizenship sections and the mundane departments. However, she did take a few from the citizenship sections to talk to and educate the refugees about the system and helping explain many separate parts of their entire system.

What little protests there were in the department to the refugees were quickly opposed by the rest of the department, sparking a debate and wasting an entire day of work as the staff went through the entire problem with the others and they slowly but surely convinced them of the usefulness of these people after the moral argument failed.

Thankfully for the dissenting opinions, no one went to fetch a guard as much of the debate could've been seen as treasonous and thus the dissenters may have been sent to prison for a while before being demoted a little as punishment.