To Fell an Empire 3.0 [Medieval Fantasy/OOC/Semi-Open]

[The mages]

please do good sir!

[Nasaira]

It's just hard to find material because nobody else at this meeting is talking. I could have my character leave

[Der Kaiser Mikey III]

if i had something to do, I'd post right now, just waiting. I will totally cry if this dies, been here since not only the first installment, but QFTC itself, the original inspiration started by Damak Var

[Nasaira]

Do not despair my good friends we can save it

[The mages]

well then if you wish you could leave the Caer Aard, seriously its getting to be a HUGE drag on the story and while i agree it is important its just dragging on for far too long.

[Nasaira]

Then I shall leave

[Nasaira]

I'm making another medieval Rp based a little off of this just in case this dies, I'm putting work into but I could always use help if anyone is interested just TG me

[Annihilators of Chan Island]

You all do realize it has literally only been 2 days? Calm down.

[Annihilators of Chan Island]

I'm going to write a post about Tyler Tellegara if all the scoundrels who are active now the active players don't mind being busted by watchmen.

[Nasaira]

Oh I do but what I'm doing is a side project until things pick up again

[Mesrane]

You all do realize it has literally only been 2 days? Calm down.

Aye, we need people to post but this isn't by any means dead.

[Mesrane]

I'd love to barge in on the Tarembor party, yet I think my rather recent post makes this uncomfortably strange, is this correct?

Aren't you already there with me?

[Nasaira]

Not really a lot my character can do right now

[Conwy-Shire]

*ahem*

If you need MORE stimulus than I have provided you can always have a discussion with my character about where his son is...

[Mesrane]

*ahem*

If you need MORE stimulus than I have provided you can always have a discussion with my character about where his son is...

I'll reply soon (at Super bowl halftime)

The Superbowl stops for nothing.

[Conwy-Shire]

ha, ha, superbowl... I don't get it

[The Starlight]

Alright calm down people! It's just been like 2 days, and I am not letting this die. Sorry for holding this up as pretty much everyone is at my estate. Mesrane, you're Co-op, unless you don't want to be it. Reply for you all will be coming soon, so calm down, please.

[Mesrane]

Alright calm down people! It's just been like 2 days, and I am not letting this die. Sorry for holding this up as pretty much everyone is at my estate. Mesrane, you're Co-op, unless you don't want to be it. Reply for you all will be coming soon, so calm down, please.

Will do.

[Sil Arion]

Posted in the IC! Altogether a catchup post as I started rather late in this RP and only just finished reading through it all. Hopefully my post covers most of it in context of the Fianna Fáil, though it's a bit rough.

And here is this! A fine-polished and fully finished app. I hope it suits. Main influence is from Celtic and Irish mythology, with other major influences from the Norse and Vikings, the Mongols and Japanese, and to some extent the Arabs and Bedouin as well. I loved the idea of weaving in Arthurian myth, so it’s there too, if in smaller quantities. I also wove in bits of Roman and Chinese civilization to represent the Empire and Rathis’ impact on Clann Nessa and the Fianna Fáil. It’s also over nineteen thousand words long. Jah.

I think I might’ve gone a bit overboard on this one…

NS Nation Name:[b] Sil Arion.

[b]House Name: Clann Nessa of the Fianna Fáil.

House Banner: A yellow-gold triquetra knot on a grass-green field with a knotted border in similar style. In the very center lies a three-headed dragon in blood-red, wings outstretched, one head looking left, one forward, and the other to the right. The triquetra symbolizes their connection to the Trinity of Triple Goddesses and the One God. The dragon: their fiery spirit and blood; the left head looking to the past, remembering their heritage and ancestors; the center head looking forward at the present, fighting for life and family; and the right looking to the future in hope, raising the children of the next generation to rise above the last. Below the triquetra are the words Children of Destiny in their own tongue. As the accepted banner of their people as well, all hold great love and respect for it, and will defend it unto death. Notably, it is to be burned should it touch unholy ground or the hands of unworthy persons – these being the lowlands and outsiders.

Description of House: Clann Nessa arose as one of the first clans recorded on the ancient lore-stone within the Womb of the World where the Fianna Fáil are said to have been birthed into the world from the seeds of the World Tree Idrasill as the children of the Earth Mother, Éire, and the Forest Father, Oreionn. It is known in the centuries before Titus Rathis’ coming the Nessa emerged as leaders among the nomadic tribes that eventually coalesced into the people known as the Fianna Fáil. Great ballads and sagas from those times tell of their warrior-kings leading the way into Faerie, purifying it of the goblin and orc filth who had attacked them since the Dawn Age, enslaving their kith and kin, killing the men and raping the women, enslaving their elders and children – they and all manner of dark creatures, demons and shrikes and far worse that dwelled in the deeps beneath the earth. Of Clann Nessa was the first High King chosen, who led the chiefs of the nomadic clans which wandered the land of Lia Fáil in a great and terrible series of wars. And they hunted from the dark for centuries, and drove the evil from their lands til only they remained. This was the Dawn Age and the Dark Wars.

First to venture out beyond the Veil of mists that lay upon the land, Clann Nessa descended into the lowlands surrounding Éire. They were new to the outside world, and upon seeing the great wealth but pitiful weakness of these lowlanders, they began the tradition of raiding. The Nessa led other clans by land and water, sailing afar in their unique longboats, so stable and swift even in stormy seas. Raiding parties penetrated anywhere with water deeper than a man’s waist – ravaging and raping the lowland peoples, plundering the settlements and cities of realms near and far, taking all they set their eyes upon – little was left untouched in the period of history called by scholars the Century of Blood and Fire that preceded the rise of Rathis, the interregnum after the Elven Empire’s fall when the Faeries first emerged from the Highlands across the Misty Mountains. They were the scourge of the sea, and dreaded; as merciless as they were mysterious. Suddenly appearing, then disappearing, the only evidence being the blood and fire left in their wake. A reference to the Fianna can be found in the traditional prayers of the Faith: “And from the Faeries deliver us.” A fair few folk tales have sprung up from the old ways lowlanders tried to protect themselves – how only iron, cold and pure, or holy fire of the Faith could kill them, how Faeries couldn’t cross a threshold without invitation or cross running water without a boat, among many others.

Legends of this time also survive as threats from parents to children for misbehavior.

Historians have noted this though. For all they were a woe to the world, the Fianna hurt themselves far worse. Bloody and brutal wars between rival clans erupted innumerable times over those centuries. Many ended in one side slaughtered, with no survivors; the other, just barely making it through. Dozens of clans rose and fell in this time, the Century of Blood, as the Faeries fought each other for the treasures and riches they returned with from their raids in the lowlands. And just for the sheer sensation. Of battle, gaining glory and honor. This was the era of the when the Wild Hunt rode ceaselessly through the night when the Golden Horn sounded its haunting hail to the blood-red ghost-riders to emerge from the hidden paths every winter’s end for those hundred and more years.
It was a time of misfortune and death, tragedy and war. And great and terrible glory.

But things changed soon enough before all the world went to hell. When Rathis came to power, he set out to rule all in his sight. Like with every other land, he sent his men to conquer the realm of Faerie. They all knew of the natives’ fierceness and fearsome reputation. They thought themselves prepared.

They were wrong.

Twice did his armies fail to conquer the Fianna. Both ended in disastrous defeats, costing over sixty thousand men and immense amounts of money and material before Imperial generals ceased the attack and fell back to the Empire’s border as the disparate clans harried them all the way there.

Then a third and final time. Rathis himself came and the Nessa led the defense, knowing this would not be the same. Eowyn Everchosen of Clann Nessa was chosen as war-leader, and steadily lured in the Imperial army which had invaded their lands, using similar strategies as before. But fighting fiercer, killing in ways so cruel and unimaginable some their own wept. Yet it was working. Because, for the first time since the Dawn Age, the Fianna were united. The Imperial supply chain lay broken, their soldiers’ morale steadily falling as their fellows were slain in horrible manners, flayed and mutilate corpses displayed along the paths they took. Food and drink poisoned to cause widespread, painful and longlasting illness; officers assassinated, plans and maps sabotaged; traps laid, avalanches and rocks falling from above, and more; all bleeding the Imperial army from a thousand cuts, efforts concentrated on causing crippling but nonfatal injuries to soldiers so casualties stacked up, consuming supplies and taking time to be cared for. The Faerie became rather – good – at it. This way of war.

But then, a traitor gave away a critical piece of information – a secret way through Faerie to the holiest of holy places to Fianna. One that went to the Womb of the World where the World Tree Idrasill was rooted. Titus Rathis himself led the attack beside his greatest generals and veteran troops to either annihilate the Fianna Fáil once and for all or finally bend them to his will. A desperate defense was mounted by the Faeries, fighting unto death to protect their heritage and most holy site. But it was open battle. The Imperial forces outnumbered them, armored knights sweeping in, driving them back as the Imperial field artillery fired into from the rear of the battlefield with deadly effect as the heavy infantry held them down. They were defeated after a long and bloody battle, and Eowyn Everchosen and his fellow clan chiefs bent the knee to Titus Rathis, but swearing loyalty only so long as Rathis continued proving worthy of it, for the Fianna alone respect strength and cunning, and Rathis was that. Perhaps, sometimes a man can only understand another through crossing blades. And good steel bends – it does not break. So the Fianna followed the will of their new Emperor, and waged war in his name.

Eowyn rose swiftly among the companions of Rathis, first serving as a chosen general. Soon after, a trusted advisor, and even a close friend and confidante near the end of the grand campaign. The Faerie soldiers serving in the Imperial army earned themselves a fierce reputation: as ruthless and cunning warriors, for their incredible strength and skills in battle, no matter they were few. To enemies, they were ghosts. Nightmares. Outright terrifying to defenders when they would hear from envoys of the Emperor that, should they not bend the knee, he would unleash the Faeries upon them – those monsters in skins of men who fought as demons of fire and frost and storm, in hot battle-rages as they slaughtered their enemies and mind-chilling strategies as they planned every possible way to demoralize and defeat the enemy before battles even began, hitting hard and fast as lightning, then disappearing in a flash. The Faeries served with a distinction in the Imperial legions as chosen shocktroops and scouts, for they were sneaky, left no survivors and were extremely successful. And strong. Their Imperial comrades-in-arms often had more fear for them than respect, though not without reason.

But to the Emperor, a wild dog was still a wild dog. Strong. Powerful. But feral. And untrained. Dangerous to him as his enemies. So he ordered the Fianna to ‘civilize’ or face the consequences.

Grudgingly, the Fianna obeyed. Under threat of destruction, they slowly ceased their traditions of raiding and began to permanently settle, no longer wandering as nomads. They learned of building and architecture from the engineers in Rathis’ employ, designing and constructing the first cities in their realm. Even founding schools for their children to learn, and organized places of worship. Over a hundred years of labor with help of allied Dwarves, these would culminate in the four great city-citadels, and then the grand capital of Loch Nessa and An Tara, monuments to the height of the Empire’s glory and expertise. It was upon these cities the Fianna built their new culture and entered the world anew as civilized folk with Clann Nessa again at the head. But they have not forgotten who they were…

View on the Empire: Of questionable loyalty. They seem to seek independence from the lesser men of Pandyssium and the line of Rathis, whose blood has grown pitifully thin and weak since Titus fell. However, they have not the strength to directly face the Empire and her loyal subjects, and so cannot move alone. But it is only a matter of time til they do, lest someone persuade them otherwise…

Description of Head of House: Ard Rí na Éireann Taioseach Nessa mac Nuada Alasdair Fearfiach. Perhaps translated to outsiders best as: Alasdair Manslayer, Son of Nuada, Head of House Nessa, High King of Éire. A man grown of forty-two years of age, and stands above eight feet tall of bone, brawn, and brains. A very charismatic and charming man, dynamic and dedicated to his people and protecting them and their land who rules with a fair and even hand. He cares deeply for his family and friends. Since age twenty – when all but one of his siblings and much of his clan were killed by the ‘hundred thousand’ invasion of orcs and goblins but two decades ago – he’s had a terrifying temper when riled, like winter winds and hoarfrost. However, he’s managed to master it and wield it as any weapon, becoming a great strategist and commander, and a stronger warrior – more so than even his famed father. He is also a scholar and aesthete, as at An Tara he keeps one of the largest known libraries in the world alongside several halls of artifacts, trinkets, and trophies he and his family have collected over time in their travels. Some say of him that wisdom dwells in one eye, and wildness in the other. He is husband to Danu, Bébinn, Morgaine, and Elaine, and father of seventeen children. He earned the name Fearfiach, Manslayer, for he has slain so many men his soldiers have lost count – during the invasion, it is well-known he killed over one hundred orcs alone in a single battle when separated from his soldiers, with not but his wits to help him through the night – when he also slew the strongest of great-orcs, the skilled general and leader of the invasion: Obuirg One-eye. Thrice did they fight in the war, great and terrible duels each: the first, Obuirg lost the left horn of his telltale helm; the second, his right eye; and the third, his head. His gold-gilded skull now sits among Alasdair’s other treasured trophies as reminders of his most respected foes, his greatest glories and the lessons learned therein.

Description of Relevant House Members: The foremost family of Clann Nessa, in order by age.

Nessa mac Derg Dagda. As grandfather of Alasdair, Dagda is ancient at one hundred one years old. There is little he does not know from his travels across the world and is referred as ‘the Dagda,’ for he is venerated by all who know of him. Despite his now soft and raspy voice, all quiet to hear him speak, for his very breath is said to be wisdom. He has fought a hundred battles and survived, but has lost much of once great strength. Only two of his seven sons survive, as well as his one daughter. He is a Starchild himself, like his great-grandson, Diarmuire.

Seanóirí Nessa mac Dagda Nuada Airgetlám. Nuada Silverhand, Son of Dagda, Elder of House Nessa. He is father of Alasdair and grandfather of Diarmuire. Seventy-seven years old. A cheerful, wise and wizened old man, with a hand of silvered steel in place of the one he lost on his left when protecting his family. Very learned and worldly. He’s traveled to the far northern continent and the lands across the Western Ocean, to the Empire of Augrilac and beyond. There is no realm he has not fought in on the continent, and he remains a deeply admired and respected commander and soldier despite his age. Loves telling stories to children of his life and what he’s learned, and telling riddles and old rhymes.

Nessa mac Ness Conchobair. Cousin of Alasdair. Seventy years in age. He serves as an advisor of Alasdair, and helped raise him to adulthood with Alasdair’s father, Nuada. An old man of shrew intelligence, and ruthless to his enemies, but kind to kith and kin. Helps to run day-to-day affairs for the kingdom and clan. He tries to negotiate things if problems rise, but is fine with fighting if needs be. He always puts family first. Can come across as aloof and arrogant at times.

Nessa mac Dagda Myrddin Emrys. Uncle of Alasdair. Sixty-nine years old. A famed poet and artist, and Druid, and something a philanthropist and playboy and drunken partier, but wise like his brother. Rather handsome despite his age. He once had three wives, but each died to enemies during the invasion, along with nearly all his children. Myrddin is noted as the most powerful and learned Druid since the Dawn Age, with a wrath rivalling Alasdair’s when awoken. Myrddin was given the name Emrys, meaning Ambrosius, when he managed to kill thousands of orcs and goblins by sneaking into the camp and poisoned much of the drink, then later that night leading a ritual to call a terrible storm upon them. It was then the Fianna attacked, stopping the invasion as they slaughtered every single invader in a few hours of fighting and hunting those who tried to run in fearful flight.

Nessa an Eriu Nimue. Aunt of Alasdair, sister of Nuada and Myrrdin. Sixty-three years old. A famed Priestess with rather incredible powers of healing and growing and shaping plants. She is thought to be favored by the Goddess Anand, and the Earth Mother. A gentle and wise old woman. She has a way with animals as well, and is often accompanied by several fiolara wherever she goes.

Nessa mac Lugh Setanta Cú Alasdairnn. Cousin of Alasdair, forty-seven years old. While not much of a strategist, he is perhaps the greatest living warrior in Faerie, and long battle-leader of the Oathsworn. Legendary with any weapon in hand, or just his hands alone, he helped raise Alasdair’s firstborn son and heir Diarmuire as a warrior. Famed for his terrible battle-frenzy and complete loyalty to Alasdair. He gained the name Cú Alasdairnn, Hound of Alasdair, when he accidentally slew Alasdair’s great guard-hound – a fiolara – in self-defense and swore to take its place and protect Alasdair forevermore. He is also a very skilled assassin.

Nessa an Boann Danu. First wife of Alasdair, mother of Etaine, Aine, Brigid, Airmed, and Tuireann. She is forty-five years old. A woman of renowned beauty and bravery, but humble and happy for the most part. She is very proud and protective of family. She is one of the few still counseling Alasdair for a peaceful approach to current political situation. She’s considered to be very wise.

Nessa mac Nuada Fiacha. Younger brother of Alasdair, and his only surviving sibling. Forty-one years old. An accomplished soldier and leader of men, but was struck
much harder by the deaths of his and Alasdair’s siblings. He’s wandered the world as a mercenary for twenty years now, and hasn’t once returned to Faerie, nor taking wife or having children.

Nessa mac Myrrdin Cathbadh. Cousin of Alasdair. A Druid like his father, and one of considerable power and wisdom, though thought as grim and morbid at times. He’s had a burning hatred for any outsiders since the invasion two decades ago, after losing all his siblings, his mothers, and much of his clan.

Nessa mac Conchobar Fionn. A cousin and forever companion of Alasdair, and a strong warrior, but much stronger strategist and tactician. Forty years old. He is the commander and battle-leader of the Oathsworn, the greatest soldiers of the Fianna who serve the High King and protect Faerie. He helps to run affairs at the court in the Hall of Teamhair alongside his father, Conchobar.

Nessa an Beag Bébinn. Second wife of Alasdair, mother of Creidhne, Gobniu, Luchtaine, and Fand. She is forty years old. A tough woman who was once an accomplished mercenary, but grew tired of war, now turning to pursue various crafts, especially metalsmithing, stonemasonry, and woodcarving. She’s quite severe and austere, if always fair to her friends and family. Still a strong warrior, but even-tempered.

Nessa an Igraine Morgaine. Third wife of Alasdair, mother of Agravaine, Igraine, and Tristaine. Elder sister of Elaine. Thirty-seven years old. Morgaine is a devoted Priestess of the Goddess Mórríoghain, and a past member of the all-female Glade Guard. She is an angry warrior-woman of terrifying temper and skill. And very aggressive in getting what she wants. Her and Danu don’t always see eye-to-eye, but can cooperate, especially when Elaine comes into play, as both dearly love her.

Nessa an Igraine Elaine. Fourth wife of Alasdair. Mother of Gawaine, Gaheris, Gaherith, and Galahadh. Thirty-four years old. Younger sister of Morgaine. A sickly and softhearted woman, but very lovely and kindhearted, serene, and held dear by all who meet her. She is highly honored for giving birth to four consecutive sons – an unheard of feat. But she nearly died giving birth to Galahadh, and has been bedridden for months now. She tends to take the role of diplomat in the family when issues arise, and is widely considered the finest clothweaver of shimmersilk in recent memory.

Nessa an Danu Etaine. She is firstborn daughter of Danu. Twenty-four years old. Elder twin sister of Aine. First wife of her younger brother, Diarmuire. Mother of Tamerlin. Etaine is an ambitious young woman, with a fiery spirit and sharp wit. She is a warrior of great skill, and is very close to Morgaine. She often fights beside her husband in battle, with a love of war and weapons.

Nessa an Danu Aine. She is the second daughter of Danu. Twenty four years old. Younger twin sister of Etaine. Second wife of her younger brother, Diarmuire. Presently pregnant. A singer and harper of great skill, a poet, storyteller and scholar, she is often seen as kinder than her sister. But if her temper is riled, it is something quite horribly cold to behold. Loves to spend long hours in the library reading. Very learned, despite her youth.

Taniste Nessa mac Alasdair Diarmuire Leananréalta – Diarmuire Starchild, Son of Alasdair, Heir of House Nessa. He is the heir to the throne, firstborn son sired during the Night of Nights by his father and High Priestess Gwenhwyfar in that sacred rite, and so bears the name Leananréalta. Starchild. He is an active and blessed young man of twenty-two years and shows great promise, taking after his father and family in skill and character, and in stature. He stands over eight feet tall, strongly built and swift, yet not quite fully-grown yet. Despite his apparent youth, Diarmuire is remarked as an incredibly mature and smart young man, wise beyond his years, and already well-blooded in battle. But, like his father in his youth, he is still reckless and stubborn at times. But more even-tempered, having a seeming effortless mastery of himself, serene even during times of trouble. While neither arrogant nor aloof, he is holds pride in his clan and is very protective of them and his people, knowing well what transpired two decades ago when he was but a babe. He loves spending long hours wringing his harp and singing atop the high towers of An Tara, or fighting beside his father, family and friends, and fellow soldiers. He is married to his older twin sisters, Aine and Etaine. Diarmuire has had prophetic dreams, and has what his great-grandfather, the Dagda, has called a ‘god’s-gift,’ spiritual sixth sense he should always trust. Interestingly, his cousin Setanta Cú Alasdairnn has proclaimed recently that Diarmuire will surpass all and become the greatest warrior and leader in the history of the Fianna, and show them the Way to bring back their ancient and great glory. And given who Setanta is, many people are beginning to believe this as well. Whether it is true or not, only time will tell. And Diarmuire himself, of course.

Nessa an Danu Brigid. Third daughter of Danu, eight-and-ten years old. A very kindhearted and loving girl, she is training to become a healer and Priestess of the Mother Goddess. Unmarried, as she wishes to become the High Priestess in the future. Very dedicated to the Goddesses.

Nessa an Danu Airmed. Fourth daughter of Danu, six-and-ten years old. Despite her demure and nice nature, she is training to become one of the Glade Guard, the warrior-women who guard the Sacred Glade and the Priestesses of the Goddess. She and Brigid are very close. Arimed is also the elder twin sister of Tuireann, whom she loves dearly.

Nessa mac Alasdair Tuireann. He is the second son of Alasdair at six-and-ten years old. He is the younger twin brother of Airmed. It is rumored the two will marry soon. He has something of a fiery temper and strong arm, and is quite close to his elder brother Diarmuire, whom he looks up to greatly as a growing warrior. They often train and fight together, and alongside their father and family.

Nessa mac Alasdair Creidhne. He is the third son of Alasdair, and five-and-ten years of age. Elder triplet brother of Goibniu of Luchtaine. Good with his hands, and strong, he wants to become a metalsmith, as he has no small talent for forging arms and armor already. The leader of his triplet brothers, so-called the Craftsmen, in their misadventures and many cooperative creations.

Nessa mac Alasdair Gobniu. He is the fourth son of Alasdair, and five-and-ten years of age. Middle triplet brother of Creidhne and Luchtaine. Very solid and sturdy young boy, with hands and mind well-suited to arithmetic and geometry. Unsurprisingly, he’s schooling to become a stonemason and architect, and has a dream to one day design build a new city.

Nessa mac Alasdair Luchtaine. Luchtaine is the fifth son of Alasdair, and five-and-ten years of age. Younger triplet brother of Creidhne and Gobniu. A budding
woodcarver and shaper with a small talent for Druidic magic whose artful, living creations are displayed in the entrances to the Hall of Teamhair. He feels a certain connection to trees and plants, and so is receiving guidance from Myrddin.

Nessa mac Alasdair Agravaine. He is the sixth son of Alasdair, two-and-ten years old. He has taken to the study of old lore and magicks, and is training to become a Druid under his great-uncle, Myrddin. Very serious and studious. Rather gifted with words as well, and astronomy.

Nessa mac Alasdair Gawaine. Seventh son of Alasdair. Ten years old. A very compassionate and courteous boy, who is quite strong for his age. He looks up to his elder brothers Diarmuire and Tuireann, often training with them and the older soldiers.

Nessa mac Alasdair Gaheris. Eighth son of Alasdair. Nine years old. Elder twin brother of Gaherith. A mischief-maker and devilishly clever and swift young boy. Enjoys switching places with his twin and causing trouble.

Nessa mac Alasdair Gaherith. Ninth son of Alasdair. Nine years old. Younger twin brother of Gaheris. A mischief-maker and devilishly clever and swift young boy. Enjoys switching places with his twin and causing trouble.

Nessa mac Alasdair Galahadh. Tenth son of Alasdair. Eight years old. Takes greatly after his older brother Gawaine, but has only just begun his training. He spends a
great deal of time with his mother, Elaine.

Nessa an Bébinn Fand. Fand is the first daughter of Bébinn, and eight years old. She is takes greatly after her eldest sister Etaine, with a love of war and weapons, but more even-tempered so far.

Nessa mac Alasdair Tristaine. Eleventh son of Alasdair at seven years old. A boy who wants to join all his siblings in training, but isn’t quite big enough, so he joins Gaheris and Gaherith in making mischief.

Nessa mac Diarmuire Tamerlin. Firstborn son of Diarmuire, an infant.

Court Position Request: None for now.

Seat of Power: The Hall of Teamhair, within the citadel of An Tara atop the city of Loch Nessa.

Realm Number: 2

Realm Name: Lia Fáil, named also as Éire, the Highlands and Hidden Realm, and known as Faerie by most outsiders, and the Emerald Isle a thousand years past. The native people, named Fianna Fáil by themselves, also called Highlanders, High Men, or most commonly, Faeries. There is an ancient and well-known poem written of Lia Fáil and her people, called the Circles of Nine and One. It is as follows:

Where spiraling south winds and
West waves meet misty mountains;
A Land of Sun, Stone, and dark Shadow,
Of Sky, Sand, and Lovely Sea.
A Land of Stars, Storms, and deathly Snow,
Of Steel; the Strongest Steel.
A Land of Swords awaits you where the Faeries dwell.

Realm Description: Lia Fáil is a large realm in Pandyssium, and a harsh one, but she is also one of relative abundance despite. The landscape consists a thick ring of rugged cliffs and mountains beginning on the coasts and natural borders, then transitioning to hills and the high fells, and then again to even greater mountains near the northeast of the realm, ever topped with snow. She is a land covered in mists and fog, a shroud of secrecy and protection called by the Goddesses. It is the Veil, and girdles the land. So isolated and mysterious, it is filled with strange things to the eyes of outsiders, with ancient standing stones and circles dotting the rocky hills and mountains. An island run aground, some say.

Summers are cool and winters deathly cold given the high altitudes, and all year it rains or snows, and chill mists encircle and clouds shroud the land in darkness. It is a realm of chill and damp, and the winds are never cease, a quiet rustle or a howling gale. Storms are frequent, whether just light rainfall or true thunder and lightning, almost daily, sweeping inland from the seas in summer. In the winter, great blizzards fall from the heights and sweep the lands in icy snow and frigid winds. Sunlight is a precious sight here at any time of year. But the stars, they shine ever so bright in these highlands of the world.

Forests of broadleaf trees situate themselves in the glens between the chains of mountainous features, the black ironoaks of Éire, tall and terribly strong and thick each tree, able to bend far without breaking, wide as ten men are tall and over a hundred times again that in height, winding high into the sky, branches of other trees intertwining to form aerial bridges. Golden flowers with white petals grow on their branches at winter’s end, signaling spring has come. The petals fall when summer begins, and green leaves sprout beside fire-coloured fruit – called apple-pears, which ripen swiftly and regrow during the season. In the last days of summer, their leaves turn to fire, then red as blood and their own sap, and winter has begun when the last have fallen. Fireferns crowd the floor around the massive, gnarled roots, where beds of green moss lay and little rivers of water run through small pools that beneath the trees, and from freshwater springs from below. The forests are wet and cool and dark, for the sun nigh ever shines there and mists shroud the floor while winds rustle through the leaves. Elderbushes shelter beneath the ferns, growing the famed elderberry fruits which make fine and strong spirit, and sweet jam as well. Other trees nestle within the glens, and are planted in the cities along the roads and in courtyard gardens and sprawling greens: weeping willows, lean blackash, slim silver plums, and red cherry, to name a few. And of course, Idrasill. The World Tree, its golden-glowing trunk spiraling thousands of feet into the air within the Womb of the World, stretching is great, luminescent green-leafed limbs far along the mountain-wall. It is without a doubt to the Fianna the first and greatest of all plants in the world, as firstborn of the Forest Father, Oreionn, the One God.

There three animals completely unique to Lia Fáil. First, the great fiolara that prowl the lands, a strange omnivorous cross between a wolf, bear, and great cat – perhaps most in common with the first – with thick grey fur and a silvery mane, long fangs and a large, lean body, bigger than a grown man; Imperial scholars believe it is perhaps a cousin of the worg, but separated by time and terrain for thousands of years. Known for their cunning, strength, speed and incredible endurance in the hunt, they have also grown a fondness for elderberry jam and spirit made by the Fianna who keep them as companions. But they are still aggressive, dangerous, and devilishly good at hiding. And easily able to rip off an arm if one is not too careful. Or one’s head. For that matter, any man bitten is likely to be affected with an infection similar to, but far more vicious than rabies, feverish and often fatal – while quite difficult to treat, it can be done but swiftly, before the fever’s onset. Most fiolara make their dens in the vast network of caves and subterranean passages, waterways and lakes that extend beneath the entire realm of Faerie, coming out to hunt the majestic fianara. Like its predator, the fianara seems a strange cross, but of a horse, deer, and goat – with, again, most likeness to the first animal – yet faster still, with greater endurance than all three. Blood-red hair covers their bodies, with long black tails and manes and a slender black horn, and a greater leap than the wiliest mountain goat. Unfairly agile to the point even their natural predators have difficulty in a one-on-one chase in the forests and craggy mountains. They are also oddly omnivorous, and will scavenge meat, even eat man-flesh; hence the nickname ‘man-eater unicorns’ by lowlanders who know of them. There have been incidents of men being run clean through by the single long horn atop their heads – prey they might be, but not docile like lowland animals. Their horns, when specially powdered and treated, having exceptional healing properties for medicinal potions and the like. The eiolara rule the skies at night and in day, a bird-of-prey bearing likeness to the horned night owl and great sea eagles, and too the hunting falcons of other realms for their fast and deadly dive and very keen eyes. They can be quite big, with wingspans growing wide as a man’s height on some. They are rather prized as messenger birds if caught and trained as hatchlings, or raised in the fashion of hunting falcons for those who have the time.

Smaller animals are more like lowland counterparts, namely: mountahares, skysquirrels, songsparrows and woodmice, which form the bottom tier of the food chain given their smaller size and greater numbers. Few insects, if any at all, survive in this land of chill and rain. But there are the strong honeybees found in dry, warm caves, coming out only to find food at night, with their glowing abdomens and golden bodies and wonderfully coloured gossamer wings. Though beware their sting – it is often fatal. Also unique to the land are the wheelworms; the insects which live in summer among the leaves of the fireferns they feed on, spinning their cocoons and emerging as bellwings, beautiful butterflies, delicate looking but rather tough, given their venomous bite which can cause seizures. The leftover cocoons are gathered by the Fianna to make their famed shimmersilk garments of Faerie – as tough but delicate as the bellwings themselves.

There are a few terrain features of note. First, the Cliffs of Calamity, Aillte na Mhothair, which guard the entire coasts, a sheer rock face of grey granite wreathed in fog for many miles out to sea, and ranging into the hundreds of feet high from the waves below, lapping at the vast stretches of black sands and craggy rocks and stone pillars. The coast is treacherous to sail anywhere near without a Faerie guide. The only breaks are the four great bays and their paired city-citadels built atop the rising rocks: Loch Lurgan and An Gaillimhe, Loch Foirdhreamhain and An Fhianait, Loch Dá Chaoch and An Láirge, and Loch Garman and An Ros Mhic Thriúin.

Then, the Misty Mountains, the Bheinn Mhòr, the tallest in the realm and the known world. The Stormwall is their other common name. Their bottoms are wreathed in clouds, their bodies peaking high above, and form the greatest natural defense of the Fianna. Even for all their great strength, it is difficult to survive the crossing, for the snows are knee-deep even in summer, winds howling like a thousand fiolara and pushing you towards the side. The air is thin, and breathing the cold hard on the body. No kindling for fire exists, and no life survives here to provide food. Each step is battle, and a journey like a fighting a war unending. As no outsider knows the secret ways of Faerie, none have ever made to the Womb of the World without help from the Faerie, for it lies within the greatest heights of the Bheinn Mhòr. It is suspected by some scholars that at least two of the five dragons in the world have homes somewhere among these treacherous heights and deep caves. There are twenty-four known active volcanos spread throughout the mountains as well, though eruptions and earthquakes have been less common and devastating in recent centuries than those past.

Faerie. The underworld that stretches beneath the entire realm of Lia Fáil, extending from the mountains in the north and east near to the southern and western seas. It is a labyrinth of interconnected caves and caverns of staggering size, thousands of miles of tunnels, subterranean lakes and rivers and waterfalls into which the great roots from ironoaks on the surface stretch down into through the living rock, seeking moisture. Secret ways beneath the earth exist here, with no known end to its depth. Almost a world unto itself, large as the realm above, and more; mapping by the Fianna is yet incomplete after entire centuries of exploration. It is dark and strange. Areas of chill and heat, where sits steaming pools of molten rock flowing like the world’s blood, next to shining mirrors of frigid ice and chill mists. Towering forests of mushrooms and fungi grow in these deep places, giving the only light by their glow. But they are not the only living things in the deeps…

Within the deepest reaches of the Misty Mountains lies the greatest and tallest of all – the Womb of the World. A long-dead volcano whose head stands high above the clouds, but still warm, its center is hollow and one of the few places in all the realm that readily supports life – surely a sign of the Goddess’ presence. In this circular core of the great mountain lie the Fields of Pelhaimm, descending from the raised heights on the northern side of the mountain-wall, where the capital city and citadel of Loch Nessa and An Tara sit. Loch Nessa, a lake itself, sits at the bottom of the plain, the south end, and houses the harbor where hundreds of shallow-draft river-ships and small-craft anchor. From the lakeshore to the first wall of the city Loch Nessa stretch many miles of tiered farmfields of golden wheat, brown barley, white turnips, and lovely clover, arranged in arcing four-square grids of rotating crops, separated by highways lined with trees; small woods and clusters of homesteads dot the rising plain. Crops grow year-round here, for no winter falls in the Womb of the World beneath Irdasill, and the soil is rich, dark and damp, if thick and difficult to till even with steel-shod plows. From Loch Nessa springs the eponymous river which winds its way west through the slit in the south-portion of volcano’s mountain-wall, opposite where the World Tree Idrasill spirals into the air, its limbs stretching along the north wall. Further south and west in the realm, a system of canals and locks connect to the rivers flowing to the four coastal city-citadels.

So wide is the mountain that despite its height, sunlight can directly shine in the city, and through the slit in its side from which time is told like some great sundial. The stars are the brightest here in the all the world, so say the Fianna. Many hidden ways into Faerie also begin and end here.

Capital City: Loch Nessa and An Tara, the City of Splendor and Citadel of Kings, the Land of Neverwinter. It is as much a military and government center as for commerce and residence, home to nearly three-in-ten of all people in the land, over three hundred thousand. It is a bold, bright and beautiful city, colorful and lovely.

Her peacefulness and prosperity are well known, if very lively and filled with song and speech, the music and laughter of the Fianna Fáil. And despite their reputation as barbarians, the people in the cities of Lia Fáil have a rather above-average quality of life, and their cities reflect the centuries of nomadic tradition of cleanliness, efficiency, and good hygiene. Great triple-tiered aqueducts bring in clean water from the surrounding springs and from snowmelt high above, and copper pipes bring water to the public bathhouses and communal halls of the citizenry and nobles alike, following designs from the glory days of the Empire. A system of tall water-towers keep the pipes pressurized, so water is on tap. Storm sewers line the stone-paved roads, and solid waste is disposed of in an organized fashion, run with wastewater into great underground caverns deep down within Faerie where the phosphorescent mushrooms grow and consume it swiftly. The Faeries are not 'shit-sitters' like lesser men of the lowlands who dwell in their own dung and rotted food. Outsiders visiting will note not only do their cities not smell dirty, but in fact smell clean. If such a thing is a smell at all is up for debate by Imperial scholars.

There are three districts, each forming one of the three tiers of the half-circle-shaped city, Loch Nessa. Each tier is a formidable defense it is own right: defended by three walls, separated by three moats, fifteen yards deep and fifty wide, with the first in front – these double as canals, connecting to others through the gates and run along the avenues. A fourth canal runs behind the third wall of each tier. Towers shaped like blades – sharp-fronted and comparably thin, but jutting forward fifteen yards forward from the wall – dot the walls every fifteen yards, and stand five yards above the wall. Every third tower is a further five yards higher, deeper and ten thicker, and every ninth double that on each dimension. The twin towers of each wall’s gatehouse are double the dimension of the largest towers, complete with a triple portcullis and three heavy doors of steel-reinforced stone, and steel drawbridge. Dwarven-made bolt-throwers are found in every tower, the larger the more mounted atop, and stone-throwers as well in the largest of them. Each consecutive wall is fifteen yards higher than the one before, and fifty yards back, so leaving no blind spots. The first wall of each tier rises fifty yards above its ground. And, because of the incline of the hill and the tiered fields, siege engines are rendered rather useless except on the single approach – the winding main highway. The Fianna have spent great effort and resources on their defenses after the invasion of Titus and their 'civilizing', learning well from Imperial engineers and Dwarven stonemasons in the art of designing and building defenses. They will not let history be repeated so easily. The goblin-orc invasion of two decades ago doomed itself in discovering that fact, without even reaching the first wall. It was a most glorious slaughter.

First of the three, the Plains District. It is the lowest and largest, sitting at the base of the Hill of the King. It is home to most commerce, the markets and squares, and nearly two-thirds of the population. Business is often a clan-aligned affair, with various clans specializing and competing in different crafts. Stores and shops and smithies and the like sit on the ground level, with living quarters and offices on the three to six levels above. Thousands of families live here in these large communal buildings, and conduct their daily lives from them. Buildings are made of stone, roofed in copper, and decorated with stained glass, copper, living wood and plants. Gardens of flowers and trees, with pools and fountains, sit within courtyards nestled inside the buildings, and dozens of large and luxurious public baths are found between clusters of buildings, fed by the myriad hot-water springs. Several expansive public parks sit within this tier too, where festivals and wedding celebrations are held, and also serve as training and exercise grounds for soldiers and civilians alike. And for the playing of games. A good third of this tier is still open land. In this tier also is the Academy of Avalonne, a renowned university in the seven traditional arts and studies of the Empire: the trivium of grammar, logic, and rhetoric, and the quadrivium of arithmetic, geometry, music, and astronomy. And much more. It is here the Druids undergo some of their schooling. There are storied to be a thousand taverns and bars, and it takes an entire year to taste them all. The nightlife can get a bit out of hand at times, but it is a rather wonderful place to call home for the Faeries, and for any who can come from afar to see the City of Splendor.

The second is the Wind District. In it are the clan halls, where the noble families live with their immediate kin, and where clan meetings and feasts and like are also held. They are large and great things, each a minor fortress in its own right, and staffed by more members of the clan. Near the innermost gate of this district are also the main military barracks. A good quarter of the city's inhabitants live here, as well as the priestesses who care for the Temples to the Goddesses, which are situated throughout this district. If great are the clan halls, these are grand. Windows of stained glass depicting ancient stories and ancestors in doing deeds stand over a hundred feet high on every side to let in vast amounts of sunshine, so beautiful and radiant to light the interior and rows of pews. Flying buttresses and slender towers support the vast structures, and trees and leaves and birds and wild beasts are carved into stone, glades of blessed trees and gardens surrounding there bases, with small pools nestling among the roots. A Heart Tree – born of a seed of Idrasill, most revered symbol of the Goddesses and One God – sits at the head of every worshipping hall, its roots extending into a pool and fountain, from which holy water can be gathered and drunk for healing and blessing. Here, led by the priestesses, prayers are offered, songs sung, and ceremonies held for times birth and life and death, hope and thanksgiving and remembrance. No disputes or quarrels are allowed on these most holy grounds, for all here are family, children of the High Faen. Brass bells hang in the high towers that crown the many temples, and ring at the passing of each hour throughout the day in a lovely and rather magnificent harmony.

The last tier is the Cloud District, high above. It home of the upper nobility, the close kith and kin of Clann Nessa, and in this district’s center rises the High King's residence and greatest fortress of the realm: the Citadel of Kings, An Tara. From within An Tara, the High King rules atop the Golden Throne inside the grand Hall of Teamhair. But here is also the Hill of Tara, nestled behind the fortress, in a shadowy cleft of the mountain-wall, above even great Teamhair. In it, the most holy of holy places. The Sacred Glade. Here in the Sacred Glade is the World Tree, Idrasill, golden and glowing no matter the time, where the High King as avatar of the Forest Father Oreionn is married to the land and at midnight on the Night of Nights mates with the High Priestess, avatar of the Mother Goddess Éire, in the most revered of ceremonies: the Bloodoath Celebration held within the ancient stone circle encircled by Idrasill’s roots, where the very air is alive, thick with the old magicks. Here, the connection to the High Faen is strongest, and the curtain between the realms mortal and divine thinnest, and the world stranger. The High Priestess and her handmaidens – all virgin priestesses – care for these grounds, and are protected by the all-female Glade Guard, for only they are worthy and pure enough for this honour. Any male child conceived that night is raised a son of the King, any daughter to be raised as her own, a Priestess. However, conception is rare. But, these children are often especially blessed by the old magicks invoked by this rite, which are spectacular to behold. These children are often called 'Starchild', a revered title denoting their special closeness to the Mother Goddess due to the time and place of their birth, and their parentage.

Population: Just over one million inhabitants, but a very urban lifestyle. Given the realm’s large size, climate and terrain, settlements are few and far in between – as so few areas are suitable for permanent settlement. The population, however, has been growing very quickly in the last century since the completion of their cities and transition to a more ‘civilized’ society, despite the immense invasion of orcs and goblins two decades.

Race Composition: Mostly Men, a few ten thousands of Dwarves who dwell in deeps below the Misty Mountains and some in the Faerie cities. Several thousand Elves are spread throughout the great forests; few dwell in the cities. Elves and Dwarves are rather isolated from the Fianna; the three groups are more or less separate entities living in one land. Parties of goblins and orcs hover at their borders, but never are able to venture further inland without being hunted down like the beasts they are.

Status of Races: Both the Elves and Dwarves are respected allies, friends even, and treated as equals and when they come together. However, other humans are often looked down upon, literally and figuratively, as they are viewed not just as outsiders, but as weak, worthless, ignorant and stupid in compare to the wise and worldly Fianna Fáil. While they once had respect for other men under the first rule of House Rathis, the lowlanders have fallen far since then, as shown by the reign of Silus. For the remaining races, any orcs and goblins in sight of the border are actively hunted and killed with bitter-cold steel, the latter especially; they even make sport of it, as entertainment and training for young and old, men and women alike. Their hatred for those barbaric and cruel creatures borders on fanatical, but it is a cold and icy thing – in centuries before, and very recent history, orc and goblin invasions stole and raped their women, enslaved their elders and young and ate their babies whilst the warriors were away. Indeed, the Faeries have long and unforgetting memories. And while the Fianna Fáil are not ones to act too rashly, they will certainly kill any and all orcs and goblins they come across given time and motive.

Edit: Apparently I had to split it into three parts so it fits. Wow.

[Sil Arion]

Majority Religion: The Fianna do not adhere to the false religions of lower men. As should be expected, they follow their own traditions. The Elven and Dwarven populations follow their own native religions as well. There are no worshippers of the main two faiths of the Empire in this realm, lest they be travelers and traders from the lowlands.

The majority religion is worship of the triumvirate of triple-deities, the Faen, of whom Éire is first and foremost, who rules the cycle of life and light in the world and emerged from the primordial chaos to give birth to Lia Fáil. Her first aspect is Éire, principal and most beloved deity, the Mother Goddess who represents motherhood and nurturing, whom is prayed to for compassion and fertility and also embodies the concept of Mother Nature and the seasons and the veiling mists. She is the gentler side of nature, the peaceful, regenerative aspect. She is also Banbha, the Crone who guides the dead to the afterlife with her ever-lit lantern, and represents wisdom and is prayed to for guidance, especially at times of death or despair. Then, Fóla, the Maiden who protects maturing children and is prayed to for them to survive to adulthood as they enter the world.

The second trumivirate is Mórríoghain, the three war goddesses who are kin to the first and are also called the Furies. Mórríoghain, Lady of Battle, is first, and youngest of the three sisters – the brutal war-maiden who is utterly without mercy and bears the blade – she oversees martial honour and skill at arms when battle is joined and foes meet face-to-face. She curses weaklings and cowards and those who break their word, those without honor. Second is Nemain, the Dark Huntress, middle sibling and matron of warcraft, whose chosen weapon is the bow and governs strategy and cleverness of the mind – ruthlessly intelligent in deceiving, disrupting and dividing the enemy – and attacks without warning in ambush from the shadows. Nemain despises the stupid and the ignorant and lazy, and those who blunder into battle. Thirdly, Anand, the Mystic Woman, eldest of the three, who rules over magic as matriarch, using arcane arts to attack foemen and protect the Faeries in battle by shaping the forces of nature into enshrouding mists and storms, wildfires and avalanche, and helps in healing and medicine. She is harbors a hatred for evil spirits and undead, and calls upon all warriors to destroy them.

Last, the three Fates, the triplet sisters of Fea, Cailleach, and Beira. They weave the fates of mortals, and assign a unique destiny to each individual to fulfill in time. They appear together as a maiden, a mother, and a crone, but they seem to switch places and names as seasons change and time passes. They are the most mysterious and otherworldly of the goddesses, but their teachings and signs still hold great sway. For at any moment, should one of the Fianna Fáil fail to be their best, their String will be cut, severed from the tapestry, and so will die an ignoble and most dishonourable death. As such, they are as feared as they are respected, though not as popularly worshipped in the same sense as the two other trinities.

The Fianna also believe lesser spirits of nature dwell in all things, and that all things are living, even stone and metal, for all things age and change in time. They call these Fae, for lesser kin of their Goddesses. Most nature spirits are feminine in aspect, a select few being male, though to no specific part of nature does one gender dominate. The Fianna pray to these smaller spirits when they touch their dwellings, or are near them, or simply wish for their help and cooperation. A wanderer might pray to the river Fae he drinks from to nourish his body and not poison him. A warrior prays to the spirit of his spear to stay sharp and strong and strike true his enemy’s heart. A wife, to the Fae of the clouds to bring gentle rain for her crops at Loch Nessa. Small offerings are sometimes made to these spirits in exchange for prayers answered, or as a boon for a boon, as well as to the High Faen, the Goddesses. In ancient times, elaborate sacrifices of slaves, animals, and worthy enemies were made on holy days, but over time the Fianna developed a different understanding of how to worship the Faen – simply through song and dance and living life as intended.

There is also a single God they pray to, the one male Faen. He is the Forest Father, Oreionn, the Green Man and Consort King of the Mother Goddess, and male lover of all the female High Faen who represents the warlike, unpredictable side of nature – violent, vicious, unforgetting and unforgiving. And destructive. But only a destroyer in that he continues the circle of life and death, giving way for rebirth by destroying the old world with icefalls and fires, floods and storms, volcanic eruptions and earthquakes. He is at once burning with harsh hatred for outsiders, for the worthless, the weaklings and cowards, and is filled with cold contempt for lesser beings, apathetic to their plights as he cruelly and coldly concocts schemes to make them suffer and die. But he protects his own fiercely, his children, the Faeries, like a father fiolara, for he is prideful, and has power equal to the Mother in the world. Getting his attention is believed to be at once a great honour as a risk to one's life, for Oreionn is as likely to bless one as kill. Or curse horribly. Only the High King is always blessed – who is avatar of Oreionn – as the Everchosen. It is through his power the High King can call the Wild Hunt with the Golden Horn, the great war-party all the clans are oathsworn to answer since ancient times. At midnight, the horn sounds its high-haunting cry, and the entirety of Éire goes silent – not a creature stirs – for all know that the ride of the Wild Hunt has come, and blood and fire will reign on the lowlands of the world. His name is spoken with equal fear and awe, even by warriors. Oreionn also is believed responsible for planting the first and greatest of trees, for he is progenitor of all plants and so the World Tree Idrasill as well, which yet lives to this day after many millennia and is the very same tree from which the first Fianna are storied to been birthed from its fallen fruit. For all he is God of Destruction, he is also the Father of the Forest, patron of nature, which provides shelter and sustenance to all animals beneath the stars. Like with the Goddesses, trees are considered the closest connection to Oreionn, holy symbols of his will. As such, the forests are treated with utmost care, the Fianna protecting them with their lives. Trees, as givers of life, cannot be crafted into things that take lives – as such no weapons of war are made of wood. Though the Fianna are rather clever – ships are technically not weapons of war, after all. As such, wooden ships are acceptable to them, so long as they have no ram built into their hull.

Oreionn is dies each year come winter when the last leaves fall and the Mother sleeps. He is reborn in spring when the first flowers bloom. He is at once God of Death, and Rebirth.

Of note is the Fianna view it as sacrilege still when they see lowlanders using weapons having hafts of wood. Or seeing warships with rams constructed by outsiders. For each and every one is from a tree that was killed to make a weapon of war. While they can control their temper when seeing such things, it certainly does not detract from their belief that all lowlanders are ignorant, stupid, and unworthy of life until proven otherwise. In war, they will take time to – undo – and teach enemies of these mistakes.

Ten holidays are celebrated, eight annually and one special rite every fourth year. First, Imbolc marks the beginning of spring, halfway between the winter solstice and vernal equinox, then the vernal equinox itself, called Flowerspring, when all is in bloom. Beltainn marks the beginning of summer halfway between the vernal equinox and summer solstice. Then the summer solstice itself, Midsummer Morn, when sun is at its height. Lúnasa marks the beginning of the harvest season, halfway between the summer solstice and autumnal equinox. The autumnal equinox follows, known as Colourfall, when the all leaves to turn colors of fire and blood. Lastly, Samhainn marks the end of the traditional harvest halfway between the autumnal equinox and winter solstice. Finally, the winter solstice, Midwinter Eve, when night is longest and stars shine. A ninth holiday is celebrated every four years, the Day of Days, which is inserted between Imbolc and Flowerspring, on the last of the cold days. It marks a most special time of remembrance, thanksgiving and prayers for the future, but has also at times has led to raids in their highest spirits at the expense of their weaker neighbors. A tenth holiday occurs later that very day; the Night of Nights, when that sacred and secret ceremony between the High King and High Priestess is held beneath the World Tree. The ten days leading up to the Day of Days is the Golden Week, and is a time of rising spirits and festivities as the Fianna gather at the Womb of the World for the Bloodoath Celebration in the name of the Nine Goddesses and One God. Golden Week also hosts the Games of the Goddesses, where thousands of men and women compete for glory and honor in a multitude of traditional Faerie sports which reflect their preoccupations as soldiers.

There are also the Nine-and-One Canons, reflected in the number of goddesses and single god of the Fianna – these laws oft generalized as the Ten Tenets. They are central to their culture, and define who they are and act as guidelines to their philosophical practice: the Way of the Warrior. The Ten Tenets are as follows: worshipping the Nine Goddesses and One God alone, bowing never before false idols, taking not the names of the Nine and One in vain, remembering the holy days and keeping them holy, wearing the armor, speaking the Faerie tongue, defending oneself along with one's family, contributing to the welfare of the clan, rallying to the High King when summoned, and raising one's children in the Faerie ways. In order to retain their heritage in the face of outside influence of the Empire, the Fianna place high value on rigorously carrying out the Tenets in a daily manner. The Way of the Warrior is their primary philosophical practice, from which the Tenets are derived, but it is not a way to fight as many foreigners seem to believe. But it does rule over everything in the life of the Fianna. It cannot be described for it isn’t fully understood, but it is constantly reinforced as ‘both the walking path and knowing the path,’ implying it is not only doing what is right, but knowing what is right to begin with. In doing so, Fianna never truly lose a fight, argument, or come off worse in a situation. One always does something that furthers a goal, brings one closer to understanding, or otherwise help a cause.

It is a way to make the best of life, and can be said it is the way to live properly, with honor. A moral path. Sometimes it appears counterintuitive, but it is frequently stated that no man or woman, elder or child among the Fianna claims to know the Way. When Fianna think on the Way, they enter a state of meditation and honest mind, where if asked questions, proper answers come automatically and instinctively. In this way, it can be interpreted as a primal, natural way of things, focusing on feeling before thoughts and actions.

Traditionally understood is that to kill without need is not of the Way. But what precisely is a need?

The Ninety-Nine Tales and the First Story accompany the Tenets. The First Story is that of the Weaving of the World by the Earth Mother, and its seeding by the Forest Father, and then making of men – and of the Creation War before time began, when the High Faen walked the earth and battled the dark things from beyond the world who coveted the Faen’s creation. It was then the Earth Mother sacrificed much of her strength to build the Walls of Night beyond the sky to protect her children, and now must rest often within the earth, which is what winter is.

The Ninety-Nine Tales are from the Dawn Age, tales told of the first Fianna who walked the new world and the wisdoms they learned in that time when mortal men were closer to the Goddesses and One God; it was a time of naming and shaping the world to the wills of the High Faen.

As with many faiths, there are fanatics. These are the Faire Bháis, Death Watch. They are the firmest believers in the old ways, wishing to again raid across the continent, scourge the seas. To ravage and rage, rape and pillage the lower lands, take all they desired and show the world again the meaning of the terror that is their name and sacrifice worthy enemies and treasures to their High Faen. They look for any reason to for quarrel with outsiders, and pray to the Goddesses to give them that. At the Day of Days, when the chiefs meet at An Tara, their proponents always start a fiery debate that oft comes to blows, urging the High King and fellow clan chiefs to take back their history and do their ancestors proud. They are the ones who began the independence movement a few decades ago beginning in the reign of Emperor Silus the Inept, crying 'Why bend the knee should we, Children of Destiny, to weak and lazy lowlanders?!' And their kin are coming around to this viewpoint. Even the High King agrees, for the oath taken by Rathis’ bloodline is broken. Now, it is only a matter of means...

Description of Culture and People: Not without reason, the people of Lia Fáil are called High Men, for they are above many others in stature and stateliness and are both long-lived and long of memory. In their own tongue, they call themselves the Fianna Fáil, which variably means Warriors of Fate, or perhaps more accurately, the Children of Destiny. Tuatha Dé Éire is another name they have borne for centuries, People of the Goddess Éire. It is as much a statement of their ancestry as it is their religious beliefs, that they are descended of their Mother Goddess. And their beliefs are not without reason, for they are a blessed people in their eyes. Their most common name in the outside world, Faeries, comes from their language and roughly means ‘of the Faen’ or ‘descended of Faen.’

Men of Lia Fáil stand tall at seven foot and are broad at the shoulders, a fair few topping eight foot among the nobility and royalty, with women just above six-and-a-half feet and slim at the waist. Oft the Fianna Fáil outweigh lesser men by a half again and more, lithe and well-muscled as they are. Fair is their skin, their complexion clear and golden-hued despite the little sunlight their land sees. Their eyes are a shining emerald green, as the forest leaves and stormy seas, and their wavy, wild hair worn long, colors of fire and blood, all red and gold, swaying beside their pointed ears. Men and women alike braid stained-glass beads and shimmersilk strips into their hair, and men are cleanshaven. It is perhaps no wonder they are considered beautiful as elves, but with a wildness to their presence. Yet proud, majestic. Like some great predator on the prowl. With a rather unique appearance in respect to much of Pandyssium, the Fianna Fáil are rather easy to identify – something they certainly take pride in. For their bloodline runs true and overrides all are others they have bred with, which they've taken as yet another sign of their superiority. Though, an outsider might note the traces of purely elven features in their face, the telltale ears easily noticed – but take care in mentioning such a thing.

Notable is their very martial and still nomadic nature, from before the rise of Rathis. The ancient Fianna lived and thrived on war, seeking conflict and attaining glory through conquest. But following the end of Rathis’ conquest, many Faerie warriors would become wandering monster and bounty-hunters and mercenaries, selling their services to the highest bidder. This mercenary trend became a part of the culture for centuries now, and many in the world see them as little else. However, while mercenary work is a primary means of income for the Fianna, there are a wide assortment of other occupations they typically take on which have developed over the centuries since their ‘civilizing’. Many Faeries now earn a living as metalsmiths and woodcarvers, clothweavers and stonemasons, engineers and architects. Most return to their homeland after journeying abroad for some years, then toiling away in their workshops and smithies, or tilling the harsh land as farmers as they dedicate themselves to their pursuits. Others work what might be considered ‘domestic’ jobs, tending bars and running shops, as well as working as doctors and cooks. Despite the wide array of professions they take, every Faerie is battle-trained with bow and blade from childhood and they can band together into an army on short notice.

In addition to the general misconception that all Faeries are mercenaries, they are also considerably more sociable than many may expect. As long as individuals speak their mind and say what they mean, honour their word, accept a meal when offered (as an offered meal was a great compliment for a nomadic society that ofttimes lived hand to mouth), looks them straight in the eye (or the eyeholes of their helms when armored), takes off their boots when entering their home, pays their debts, fusses over their children, never makes a pass at a Faerie of the opposite sex (unless the individual plans to become part of their culture), and respects the elderly (as any who has reached such an age would be an exceptional warrior), anyone who encounters a Faerie beyond the battlefield is unlikely to be harmed.

The Fianna Fáil place little importance on birthplace or citizenship – all are born free, with neither serf nor slave to be found anywhere – and so have no official ‘state’ as understood by national politics. Faerie society is a meritocracy, where rank and status mean nothing in comparison to one’s actions and achievements. Faerie clans are led by chieftains – usually senior members of the clans chosen for their wisdom – and the loose affiliation and cooperation between them was the closest the Fianna have to a standard government; the clans and their chieftains are all subordinate to the High King, the one individual recognized as sole ruler of the Fianna and the nearest parallel for a proper head-of-state. In keeping with their aversion to a centralized government, the Fianna also have few offices for their leaders to occupy, and most business in Lia Fáil is conducted at the nearest bar or diner, usually over drinks. However, since the invasion of Rathis, there has been development of some centralized government, given a need to organize public works like road maintenance, city management and national defense. The Hall of Teamhair at An Tara in Loch Nessa serves this function.

While the Faeries hold a general dislike for hierarchies, and hold little interest in ranks, they are exceptionally cooperative when in battle. Their signature individuality is set aside in the pursuit of a common goal, and the Fianna will do anything to achieve that goal. When drawn together as an army, they easily settle into an informal command structure, arranging their priorities on outcome rather than personal ambition, and it is this flexibility that contributes to their widespread success as mercenaries.

Some outsiders have questioned how it is, with a cultural dislike for hierarchies, that the Fianna still have nobility – calling it contradictory, hypocritical even. Perhaps, though, it is not. Nobles in Faerie society are expected to be just that. Noble. High and above everyone else in abilities and achievements, and they have rarely failed to meet that bar, no matter its height. There responsibilities are similarly weighty. That is to say nothing of the expectations for royalty, and the High King himself.

Inheritance is typically through the eldest son, but has developed differently from lowlands cultures. Traditionally, the role of leadership of a clan, and the realm, is eased into. As such, there is at once an elder of the clan, a grandfather, who was once head himself, then the head, who is father of the son, who is heir and is training to take up his father’s role. This has served well in stabilizing Fianna society in recent centuries, and in times of trouble.

Gender means little in Faerie society, and there is scarcely any distinction present in their language. Males and females are on equal footing, although they often take different roles. Faerie men are all expected to be experienced soldiers, and are responsible for training their sons to be the same. Females are expected to have the same martial skills as males, and are responsible for the training of daughters. They are also expected to be able to cook, and care for any young children and their home if the men are away. But if they have no dependent children, females will fight side-by-side with the men on the battlefield. In accordance with this mentality, the desired Faerie female is not so much beautiful or graceful – even if they are – so much as strong and enduring in body and spirit. In fact, the word for ‘delicate’ is a common insult among Faerie women. To imply that a Fae-woman is delicate, a poor mother, or a bad fighter is a sure way to start an unwanted confrontation. When a Faerie is down on their luck or in need of a place to stay, it is expected of his kin and neighbors to give them sanctuary and offer a meal, whether that individual was a common soldier or the High King himself. This state of mind also extends to businesses. It was also common for Faeries to offer support to their fellows in dangerous situations, even if they were not familiar with the individual on a personal level; simply being of the Fianna was the only pre-requisite for assistance.
As the Fianna are a conservative people, it is not uncommon for individuals to amass sizable fortunes. While most put their faith in banking practices, a large portion is still invested in armor and weapons when available. Jewelry is rarely worn, though it is to be plain and functional when it is. Even betrothal tokens from suitors are portable, easily converted into money in case of emergency, and unimpeding in combat. Any worn rings with gemstones are set in a shallow, rub-over setting so as to be easily worn under gauntlets. Faerie jewelry usually features as a belt, collar, or bracelets of precious metal. Earrings and long chains are avoided, due to the possibility of being caught on something or, in the case of earrings, being violently pulled out. It is said that if an individual were ever to come upon a Faerie who was removing their earrings and binding up their hair, it is definitely a good idea to move away.

In direct opposition to their infamy as a ruthless enemy, the Fianna cherish family and shower affection upon those they love and care for. In their society, marriage is expected to be life-long and usually takes place shortly after one turns sixteen-years-old. A marriage itself was usually a private ceremony between only the two involved, where they entered into a legal commitment by reciting a traditional pledge, translated as follows: "We are one when together, we are one when parted, we share all, we will raise warriors." These vows could be exchanged in person, or in a simple letter. Though the ceremony itself was private, following the wedding, it was customary to celebrate the new couple's union with drinks and festivities among family and friends. These can become quite large and loud celebrations the kith and kin involved. The High King’s weddings were notably – lively. Despite the importance placed on chastity and fidelity prior to marriage, a partner who acted unfaithfully during a long separation would be forgiven so long as any child that resulted from the indiscretion is raised together by the couple, as the Faerie bloodline always runs strongest. In certain rare circumstances, such as abandonment or a failure to live up to responsibilities, partners could divorce one another with a declaration they were ‘a broken love.’

Somewhat true to their reputation as barbarians, polygamy is fairly common, but more out of necessity than any debauchery, as there are typically far more female children than males – sons are rare and precious. While a majority of commonborn men have only a one wife, nobles typically have two or three wives. Four is not unheard. The High King himself has four, perhaps five if one wishes to include the High Priestess. That he also has seventeen children, eleven sons and six daughters, is something incredible, and has brought his wives and him great honour. Marriages also serve to strengthen the bonds between clans, and smooth over old feuds in some cases. Marriages with outsiders have become partly accepted in the days since Rathis, as the child will always be of the Fianna in blood and spirit. Men who marry outsiders often have a Faerie wife already, so the foreign wife can better learn her responsibilities and adapt to the Faerie way of life. Homosexuality among men is unacceptable, but among woman is something of a grey area – as when the men are gone, who will they have as companions? More impartial Imperial scholars believe this to have been emulated from the fiolara of Lia Fáil, for when the males are away hunting, the females will stay together and keep each other company.
Perhaps more detestable to outsiders is the acceptance and practice of incest among the Fianna. As Fianna marry for love, if one loves their brother or sister, they will marry and bear children.

When a couple chooses to bear children, they are an integral part of Fianna families. When conceiving, if the firstborn is a son, parents will usually wait until the boy's eighth birthday before having another child so that by that point the boy will be old enough to accompany his father on hunts and into battle, beginning his five years of military and survival training until the age of thirteen. In these years they learn to wield the traditional weapons of the Fianna, to hide and hunt and hike, run and ride, sprint and swim, climb the crags and craft traps for predators and prey alike, and to forage and cook food from anywhere in the wild. It is at this time children also learn the Four Foundations that ensure survival: the bow and blades, the belts and bowl. But above all, they learn their body and mind are the greatest of all tools – taught through intense physical training in unarmed fighting and acrobatics, and in growing awareness of oneself and environment, and always planning ahead in life. It is this time children begin developing immunity to several of the poisons they will learn to use as weapons, gradually administering them in non-lethal amounts; the Last Kiss of the Faeries, the Mother’s Cry, and Tears of Blood especially. This is also when children begin inoculations against various deadly diseases found in their homeland, and abroad. If the firstborn is instead a girl, the couple will often try for a son soon after. While girls tend to stay with their mothers until marriage, a family with only daughters will train them in the same manner as they would a son. Both girls and boys learn their earliest lessons from their mother, meaning that her own fighting prowess is critical; the pledge to raise warriors in the marriage vow is a joint commitment, and it is the job of a parent to prepare their children to train the next generation. Elders educate children with their ideals of loyalty to clan and the High King, on honour and discipline, courage and respect for their heritage. At the age of thirteen, children of both genders face their secret rite of passage, where their skills and spirit are tested and they are declared adults in Faerie society. Family bonds are a large part of Faerie culture, and as a result, they felt much more comfortable around each other than they did around outsiders; Fianna often seem very severe and silent, and somewhat twitchy.

Families are typically of a man and his wife or wives, and three to twelve children. Of note, the typical family in recent decades has grown in size, now ten or more children living to maturity. A number of families descended of a common ancestor make a clan. Though there are hundreds of surviving clans, some are more famed
and respected, and have many younger, lesser, or smaller clans descended of them. Clann Nessa is one of these, often called ‘foremost of clans,’ a reflection of the High King being first among equals as ‘chieftest of chiefs’.

The Faerie tongue is rather – unique. It has more terms of insult than any of the more widely spoken languages. But whereas most races choose insults that are based on parentage or appearance, the majority of Faerie pejoratives are concerned with cowardice, stupidity, laziness, dull conversation, or a lack of hygiene. It reveals the preoccupations of their nomadic warrior culture where personal qualities are of utmost importance, faces are often masked, and a clean, efficient camp is crucial to survival.

They have a telltale accent as well, breathy and light, and exotic, as they speak in an almost singsong way – a lilting melody of speech. Their language is a complicated thing, involving not merely sounds, but all the body, where a subtle change in tone and posture might alter the entire meaning of a sentence – it is fluid and subtle, and agglutinative in forming new words with a very flexible vocabulary. Sounds of words reflect their meaning, the understanding of concepts and things, such that names for feelings like ‘anger’ and ‘hatred’ are harsh and sharp in sound, while ‘love’ and ‘hope’ are smooth and soft. Their word for ‘evil’ is said to taste like bile in one’s mouth, dark and disgusting and all-consuming of one’s senses and spirit. It is rarely spoken word after all. Despite a thousand years, it has changed little. Yet no outsider has managed to learn much of it, let alone speak it. The script is flowing, the glyphs all slender curves and sharp corners like a blade, or waves on the sea – a reflection of the spoken word. It is more easily understood in a basic sense than speech. They also have a secret, silent language, spoken with the fingers, gestures, and posture – which can and often will accompany speech. It is this silent language that makes them appear twitchy around outsiders – for they are actually speaking to one another, just not in a way anyone else can understand.

Of note, the Fianna have no word for ‘hero,’ believing that being ready to die for one’s loved ones and beliefs is a required part of life and not worth a separate word.

Tattoos in the shape and style of leaves and flowers, the winds and waves, the stars are popular, oft in gold ink, some in red and orange or white. These reflect various things: valorous exploits in life, the death of an enemy, the birth of a child, marriage to one’s lover, hopes and dreams for the future, favorite things in the world, etc. But always they are bright, bold, beautiful and true, and usually incorporate words and phrases from their language in its flowing script.

After death, if one lives truly by the Ten Tenets and follows the Way, a Faerie’s soul will go to Farfalla, the Halls of Honor above the sky where they will reside for eternity with the Nine Goddesses and One God and all their ancestors, kith and kin who came before them. Farfalla parallels the heavens of other religions. As Fianna understand their bodies to be only tools for doing deeds and passing wisdom, their burial traditions are markedly different from other cultures. Cremation is preferred, as once their souls pass into Farfalla what becomes of their bodies is believed ultimately irrelevant, so long as it reenters nature, the cycle of life and death and rebirth – it is their belief too that the life of each and every true Fairie will be immortalized by the High Faen in the sky as stars upon death. So too is this done to prevent their dead from being reanimated by enemies. Ashes of the dead are often spread by kith and kin at places they frequented and favored in life though, and has become something of an informal tradition. Also, Fianna who do not live by their ideals are considered to be ‘soulless’; someone who was ignorant of their heritage and thus had no place in the Holy Halls. The state of being ‘soulless’ is considered a fate worse than death in their community. What happens after death to these persons is unknown, but believed to be beyond mortal understanding in its dark horror.

But, it is reflected in something else. Their belief in a hell. It is not a place on the spiritual plane above the sky, but a physical place. In this world. In this realm. It is Belbreidh. The Iron Prisons. Belbreidh is also the term for a type of punishment by the Fianna, rumored to be more terrible than death itself, and is used as a deterrent to prevent attacks against them, and as revenge on those who betray their trust. When a traitor is captured, or an outsider kills a Faerie, they will be killed in the most unimaginable and cruel way as possible. The legend of Belbreidh stretches back to the rise of Rathis, to the first ever traitor to the Fianna, and the terrible fate that one suffered. Part of this most terrible fate is that the traitor was unnamed – the most severe punishment any can undergo, for it makes one soulless. Following is a famed quote that sheds light on this belief:

“Well. Perhaps I can enlighten you, Lord [blackened], Lord [blackened]. We believed the faithful execution of revenge is one of the primary reasons we, as Faeries, still exist. If anyone is found guilty of murdering a fellow Faerie, we believe it important for them to learn there is a fate worse than death in this world. Lord [blackened], you tell us you fear not to die. But how do you see your death? If you believe death at our hands will be merciful and humane, I fear your expectations are sorely lacking. And I guarantee you will be given plenty of opportunity to recognize just how wrong your expectations are. Once you have learnt how the Faeries exact their revenge, you will beg us to kill you by any means, no matter how painful. However. We will not give that luxury. We may not believe in heaven, but we believe in hell. For hell in this galaxy does exist. And it is in the hands of the Faeries. The wrath of High King Alasdair and the Fianna, along with the dark arts, has created something truly – detestable. You will know it well.”
– [blackened], warning enemies of the Fianna of their destiny

Curses revolve around three beliefs and fears: ‘stars and stones,’ believed to fall to the earth during the death and rebirth of the world and cause great destruction; ‘hell’s bells,’ whose ring mark the beginning of the end when the Walls of Night are broken; and ‘empty night,’ for when the stars have fallen, the moon shattered and sun quenched, the Walls of Night lain broken, the sky is dark and full of terrors as dark things are loosed from beyond the world to ravage the realms as they did before the Dawn Age, when the High Faen walked the world and fought for its very survival.

And while it might appear otherwise, they are acutely religious, and spend time in prayer every day, observing the world and divining the wills of their goddesses and god from the stars, the sea, the signs of nature. It is unlikely they will do anything of great import without good omens, such as making war or setting a marriage, or entering an alliance…

Description of Economy: Theirs is a small but robust little thing, more self-contained than expansive. However, they do maintain a large merchant marine, and with their knowledge of the seas and stars they often arrive far ahead of other ships, ensuring high profit and good business as favored transporters and traders. They have come far from their ancient days as simply plunderers, but their economy would likely collapse without the need in the world for so many Faerie mercenaries.

Good mines are few and precious, small and rare, and producing only poor quality iron ore, and some copper and tin despite the veritable labyrinth of subterranean cave networks and underground lakes and rivers known as Faerie. Though, they have strong stone for building in abundance. The only cropland they have are the tiered fields of the hills, which are greatly valued and closely cared for so they needn't rely on the products of outsiders. A deplorable thought for certain.

Great game though is to be found in the forests and the mountains, but are hard to hunt for only tough animals alone survive, and all the creatures in the land are cunning and strong. It is perhaps no wonder they do not keep livestock, as it is wrong in their eyes to enslave the Goddess' creatures and take them from their natural home only to slaughter them. They only hunt wild animals, but have formed a symbiotic relationship with the native fiolara over time, much like the domesticated dog of the lesser men, if far larger. They're oft as much family as clansmen. The native fianara is partly domesticated as well, the equine beasts being used as mounts and draft animals. Fish swim in limitless numbers off the rocky coasts in the deep waters there, and migrate up and down the rivers during the year, and form the larger part of their agriculture beyond the farms at Tara. Recent efforts proved the eiolara make a most excellent messenger birds, given its fast flight over long distances and exceptional memory, though they’re not always as reliable as a mounted man due to their temperament.

Their transportation system is something special for such rugged terrain and harsh land. Since dirt roads collapse too easily and wear away swiftly in the wet and windy climate, highways are cut directly into the sides of the mountains since the coming of Rathis, marvelous bridges in the Imerial style connecting the far sides of the fells. But these roads are still treacherous, winding, sharp-cornered; designed so the Fianna can easily divide and destroy any invading armies in the future. Standing stones guard the ways, marking every mile, with inns about a day's journey apart by foot. These inns also have stables for messengers to switch mounts, so they may travel a greatest speed. A system of locks and canals and rivers connect Tara to the outlying four city-citadels on the coasts, allowing bulk transport of goods from the capital directly to the sea and vice versa. They do not export goods overland if they can help it. However, there is also the underworld of Faerie, and the secret paths through that labyrinth which only they know.

The Fianna Fáil tend not to import many goods as they make most all they wish to have, stubborn as they are, and typically look down on crafts of lowlanders, seeing such things as inferior and beneath their own in quality and purpose. Some outsiders and scholars have remarked on this as base stupidity, as if the Faeries started to import raw ore in bulk, they could quite quickly outfit a great deal more of their mercenaries, rather than relying of poor natural resources. The Fianna do still enjoy experiencing new things though, and exotic things at that, and so search for new knowledge and ideas, especially books of old lore. They still bear a certain love for treasure and trinkets, and trophies too.

• Exports: Sleek and comfortable shimmersilk garments, alongside exotic and expensive dyes. Warm and weatherproof clothing of lithe leather and fine fur. Elderberry wine, black ale and honey mead. Wonderfully crafted ships ranging from great and tall for the open seas to short and small for shallow rivers; all are known to be very stable and swift and longlasting. Strong rope, expert maps of the continent and seas and of the stars, and reliable compasses. Quality paper, books and writing utensils. Engineering instruments and surveying tools. Scented soaps, solid and liquid for clothing, body and hair alike. Most significantly though, medicine, potions, surgical tools, healing herbs, and tomes and recipes for treating injuries and illnesses.

o On occasion, arms and armor of special commission for great friends. And poisons for clients of a more clandestine nature. One might also say they export warriors – many Fianna adventure the lower realms for years at a time, serving as bodyguards and mercenaries for those who can afford, or have gained their friendship and faithfulness. Some even are employed as assassins – such was how the Rathis Emperors of old used them, in addition to their roles as elite guards loyal to the throne alone.

• Imports: Spices, olives and cooking oil, books and ancient scrolls, nuts, citrus fruits, and exotic things. They still have a love of fine gems and precious metals and anything that might be seen as treasure or a trophy. They are fond of giving as gifts trinkets they collect from abroad.

o Perhaps even more so, they have a love of stories, and rumors and riddles. A visit to any tavern that has a Faerie at its tables will often render one a great deal of things learned about the world, near and far.

Major Settlements: These are the four of cities and their central citadels that sit upon the rocks at the four great coastal bays of the Realm: Loch Lurgan and An Gaillimhe, Loch Foirdhreamhain and An Fhianait, Loch Dá Chaoch and An Láirge, and Loch Garman and An Ros Mhic Thriúin. The design of these settlements are copied from Loch Nessa and An Tara, but on a smaller scale. Each of these city-citadels is inhabited by around a hundred fifty thousand of the Fianna. As the climate and terrain are perhaps not the most friendly in all the world, Faeries have kept vast stores of foodstuffs and supplies in case of famine, disease or disaster. This has proven prudent of them in the present when faced with war as well, or sieged by enemies they cannot immediately defeat.

[Sil Arion]

Military Description: They fight primarily as light infantry and cavalry, specializing in guerilla warfare and sudden strikes, ambushes and assassinations and scouting and spying. They have a fondness for night attacks, for the Fianna see well in the dark. They are expert riders of the native fianara, training their fiolara as attack beasts and hunting hounds, and eiolara as message-carriers. While all are raised in arms, and this reflects well in training for war, professional soldiers are all in employ of the High King – these be the Oathsworn. Overall, the Fianna rely heavily on knowing their enemy, in composition and position, and choosing the time and terrain of battle. Of note, their sense of honor is not the same as lowlanders – to do everything and anything one can to achieve victory and give all of oneself – such is honor. To the Fianna, any stratagem is viable. Following, they still have a habit of torturing enemies and prisoners, for only the weak and helpless would surrender, be captured or fail to escape. Headhunting of worthy foes remains fairly popular too; boiling the flesh from the skull and dipping it in molten gold for display. And, to a lesser degree, another tradition has continued since ancient times: the consuming of foes slain in combat, drinking their blood and feasting on their flesh. The Faeries see this as a sign of respect (as opposed to the corpses of weak and unworthy foes being left to rot), since they are believed to then absorb the strength and cunning of their enemies’ body and spirit like any other animal or plant; too, as honoring the memory of that last glorious battle between Faerie and foemen.

Though, it’s not quite seen the same by outsiders…

During times of peace, many of the professional soldiers are allowed – if not outright encouraged – by the High King to serve as mercenaries in the outer world, for its gains their people money, glory, and keeps them sharp. There have been a few times in recent history when neighboring nations have hired the entire Faerie standing military as mercenaries to win their wars for them. Including the Faerie navy. This is how they earned another name for themselves: the Gallóglaigh, ‘wandering warriors,’ those elite mercenary men who journey from job to job fighting for any outsider who will pay their price. However, the Fianna will no longer fight themselves as they once did centuries ago. Employers take heed, for should a Faerie find themselves set against one of their own in a job, they will view the contract as forfeit. And they will be most displeased…

Reputation and strategy are not their only strengths though. Their steel is highly regarded for its quality despite the poor iron available; the metalsmiths of Faerie are very gifted in their craft, having refined their technique over the centuries after absorbing and adapting the abilities of all the peoples they’ve had contact with. Faerie metalsmiths often spend several weeks in shaping weapons, and many months when making armor – great effort is expended in shaping each piece.
Faerie armor is as famed for its lightness and comfortable form-fitting shape as it is the dark colour and unique look. Nearly black, with patterns of rippling waves flowing through the sea of steel, pierced by little crystals that shine like stars. It is likened to a second skin – amusingly, their word for ‘armor’ literally means ‘skin-of-steel’. And it reflects those qualities in form and function. Bending, but not breaking; so very thin, but tough, and almost as durable as any Dwarven arms or armor, but much more mobile. Modeled after the body of its wearer, it mimics their musculature and features. Plates are fitted with leather straps and silken cord, overlapping slightly and covering all the body but the insides of joints, and small sections of the neck and groin; overall a very organic and exotic appearance. Their armors are often engraved and embossed with symbols of their family and clan, glyphs and images telling stories of their achievements, or bearing nature motifs of the wind and waves, the sea and sky and stars, trees and vines and flowers, and the native beasts and birds of the land. The helm is perhaps the most distinctive: the fearsome war-mask bearing likeness to a face, but one at once twisted in an image cold contempt and maddened rage, with draconic wings sweeping back like long ears from the wing-claws gripping the eyeholes, then meeting atop the centerline to form a slim crest shaped in the likeness of a dragon. That mask has long been burned into the memories of men living in the lowlands. For when the war-mask comes on, the earth lights afire and is drenched in blood.

It is rumored the Faerie cast old magicks of blood sacrifice and faerie-fire in forging their steel. But as no outsider has lived to tell the tale of its crafting, it remains only rumors.

However, armor of Faerie steel is not as omnipresent as outsiders believe. Many Fianna have not access to it as iron is rare in their realm; blades and bows of steel take priority so all are armed. However, they craft lookalikes of black leather, which, while not as protective, is still adequate armor. Of note, the leathers are also worn beneath the steel armor by those warriors who have it, as it is designed to attach; everything is also worn over padded under-armor and garments of silk, which are quite effective in their own right against bladed weapons and arrows, and provide more depth in defense for absorbing force.

Regardless of armor type, Faerie craft is always longlasting. Sets are often handed down for generations, refitted for one’s children, and their children’s children. Due to the engravings, the stories told on the armor’s surface, they are considered a living memory of dead loved ones, a legacy and lineage, and are treated with great care and respect. Names of past wearers are carved into the inside of the helm, and years they bore that armor. Unsurprisingly, Faeries will go to great lengths to retrieve the armor of their fellows who fall in battle, even unto death; should an outsider be found to possess even a single piece without explicit permission – well – they will not be gentle in obtaining it.

Their bows are almost equally renowned and feared. Compact and recurved things of hollow steel that take incredible strength to draw. Their power is unsurprisingly enormous, only Dwarven arbalests being comparable. Using their infamous Black Shafts, the all-steel killing arrows, Faerie archers are known to be able to knock a full-grown and well-armored man off his feet at a hundred paces – over two hundred yards. To say nothing of the wound one would be dealt. There have several instances when arrows will shoot clean through less-protected troop, even pierce another further back. Thick and heavy shields of layered steel, leather, linen, and wood are one of the few suitable protections against Black Shafts – though one best be wearing armor still, as arrowheads are often poisoned with the so-called Last Kiss of the Faeries – a small wound swiftly turns fatal, and one is dead in a few heartbeats. While less deadly, the lighter flight arrows have a range beyond many – shots on the battlefield can hit past two hundred fifty paces – over five hundred yards, and still wound less-armored men. Or kill the unprepared and unlucky. This power comes at a price though. Faerie archers, while devilishly strong, cannot fire so fast as some, particularly the master longbow archers of the elves. Steelbows are tiresome to draw, even with a lifetime of training. Children start training using downsized versions, and work their way up as they age to adulthood, growing into the bow.

Of note is their technique in bowmanship, and mounted bowmanship especially. When all four legs of their mounts are in the air, they release their held breath and loose the arrow – allowing for a very accurate and stable shot. The Oathsworn, the professional soldiers of the Fianna, are particularly adept at this. They are able to nock, draw, aim, and loose an arrow in a single swift and smooth motion – and so shoot a silk shred swinging in the wind from fifty paces, a typical contest among warriors.

Blades of the Fianna typically come in two types, both slender straight swords, the slightly curved edge a subtle leaf shape; one is longer, the other shorter. Both can be borne in one or two hands, but best for two and one, respectively, to wield them best. They slash and stab almost equally well, and will swiftly slip into gaps in armor and slice off limbs in skilled hands, and are meant for use mounted and on foot. Blades are usually forged as a pair, sibling swords made for one soldier. Every adult has these two blades, which are ever at their side or within reach. The Fianna are also rather fond of axes, haft and head all of steel, oft of the light one-handed variety, good for hacking, grappling, and throwing; though heavy two-handers are also popular when a Faerie warrior faces well-armored foes, with a thorn opposite the blade and spikes on top and bottom. All-steel spears are also used, in two forms: a heavier and longer thrusting spear, and shorter and lighter throwing spear. Both are balanced well enough in size and shape and weight to take the other’s place if needs be. A number of smaller blades are also common, ranging from needle-like impaling implements to all-purpose knives for hunting, dining, throwing and soldiering alike.

The Fianna have recently developed a circular shield as well, made of steel with a center boss, and backed with layers of padded silk and leather. Several different straps and cords are attached for various grips. It is like their armor: light and thin, but tough and durable, able to catch heavy war arrows and block many blows and still stay together. It has proven quite effective, and is repadly gaining popularity among the soldiery of Faerie. Two types are in effect: a smaller one worn when fighting with their bows, and a larger one for melee, often borne on the back when not in use. The edges are always sharpened. In practice, the shield is as much a weapon as any sword and shield, and are engraved like any armor of the Faeries. Many shields are modified by veterans to include sheaths for small blades.

Strengths/Weaknesses: The warriors of the Fianna are stronger in arms and fleeter of foot than many others, having the endurance and killing strength of men, and the mettle and keen senses of elves. Taller, with longer reach, more massive, they wield their great war bows of hollow steel, piercing through plate armor at a hundred paces, an impossible feat for lesser men with lesser bows – even Elven marksmen and Dwarven arbalesters have difficulty replicating such at fifty paces – a mere hundred yards. Their skills with blades are similar to behold, only the Elves, Dwarves, and most skilled of Men as peers. The Faeries are experts in ambushing, suddenly striking then slipping away into the shadowy forests, mists and underground ways – to hit hard and fast then disappear is their way. Often they can disrupt, divide and destroy larger and heavier equipped forces than their own, and their fighting style gives them a flexibility and fluidity few might match. They have a large number of highly experienced and heavily equipped professional troops in their army and navy, and excellent leaders, more so than most given their martial traditions, despite a smaller population. Overall, the Fianna are very cooperative and communicative in battle, and present a united front. Standing soldiers are regularly rotated in reserve so they might spend time with their families and rest – then they return fresh, ready and earnest.

Healers and surgeons of the Faeries are highly skilled as well. This comes not only from centuries as mercenaries who suffer innumerable injuries and illnesses in the field, but also from a great deal of experience in – experimenting – on the body, through torturing enemies and traitors. Adult troops are immune to most of the very poisons they use, and inoculated against several deadly diseases found in their homeland, and abroad; smallpox, bloody flux, greyscale, and measles, among others. The Faeries take it very seriously when they suffer casualties, and do all they can to minimize them. For all they are warriors, they like any other people hate to lose loved ones.

Their reputation is another strength of theirs. Few wish to face such frenzied and fearsome foes, for surviving an attack of the Faeries is often worse than being slain in battle by them. There is nowhere they will not hunt you, nowhere they will not pursue if one gains their ire, for they can and will survive nigh anywhere in the world one might run to escape them.

Perhaps it is not surprising they have no allies to speak of at present.

While appearing tough and difficult to fight, they are not at all invincible, as Rathis proved centuries ago. The Fianna cannot stand long in an open, pitched battle, and have little staying power, as many troops wear only their lookalike leathers and silks. None use polearms, pikes or thick and heavy shields, for their size and clumsiness is detrimental to their strengths and strategies. Should they be forced to fight on an open field, survival would be difficult to attain, let alone victory, as most soldiers are unable to form and fight in deep and solid formations like pike-blocks or shield-walls. Facing heavy cavalry in such an engagement has proved disastrous in history unless the Fianna were mounted themselves, or had arrayed hidden traps and defenses beforehand to waylay their foes. They also lack any kind of field artillery to support them. Protracted offensive sieges are difficult to pursue, especially when faced with well-trained and equipped enemies behind high walls with ample supplies.

However, they are rather – gifted – at finding ways around such things. And defensive sieges are another matter entirely, given the natural terrain, climate, and
frankly awe-inspiring defenses of the four city-citadels and the capital. The orc-goblin invasion two decades ago discovered that the hard way.

While the Fianna themselves are very cooperative and united amongst themselves in battle, the Dwarves and Elves of the realm are not quite so. While they will defend themselves, they will not answer any call to war by the High King or the Faeries unless the realm itself is under dire threat and their territories and peoples are at risk.

Of the Fianna, there are the Druids and Priestesses, who assist in the fighting when war comes, calling on the forces of nature in ancient rituals, prayers to the High Faen, the Nine Goddesses and One God to bless them and guide them to victory with good omens, veiling mists and shrouding storms as they search out the enemy via scrying spells, and help heal the wounded and sick with medicine and potions. The Fianna benefit well from their expertise and their casualties are typically significantly lower than other mannish armies when going to war.

Due to their telltale black arms and armor, silvery-grey hooded cloaks, and their dark reputation and fighting style, the Fianna are oft called by outsiders the Warriors of Shadow, Mistmen, or Stormcloaks. Or simply ‘demons’ or Faeries. They bear these names with pride. When the Wild Hunt is called by the High King, they become the Riders of Oreionn, Dark Hunters and Huntresses, the Dearg Ruadhri – the ghost-riders atop blood-red nightmares and accompanied by their spectral hunting hounds.

• Total Numbers: Thirty-six thousand men.

• Navy: A standing navy of twenty elite tall three-masted galleys, called dragonships among the Fianna, and the Black Ships by outsiders. Each are fitted with telltale black lateen sails and a hundred oars apiece, arranged in two banks of twenty-five per side, with an upper outrigger for the larger top oars which require two men. The outrigger also acts as a bulwark of sorts during battle. Nominal total of two hundred fifty men, plus six officers, all well-trained and experienced; one hundred fifty oarsmen, fifty sailors, and fifty marines per ship. The lattermost are reinforced as needed. The fifty marines are heavily armored in Faerie steel in preparation for battle, as they are all Oathsworn armed with the typical paired swords and steelbow, and various other weapons: handaxes and heavy two-handers, larger thrusting spears and light throwing spears – the lattermost which are also ammunition for the bolt-throwers. The hundred upper-bank oarsmen are armored in leathers, and bear bow and blades. The fifty sailors and fifty lower-banks oarsmen are most lightly armored in silks, but still bear bow and blades. A dozen dwarven-made bolt-throwers are mounted along each side, with two stone-throwers amidships and an elegant aftercastle raised to the stern atop a quarterdeck. Despite their armaments, these ships remain very swift and seaworthy, and able to outmaneuver any ramming galley constructed by outsiders. While fast under oars alone, they are indeed faster under sail alone. And as any Faerie ship, the hull and masts are made of one tree, a single piece of living ironwood, grown and shaped with care and sacred magicks by the Druids and Priestesses over lifetimes. Once fully grown and shaped, the wood is carefully slit in places so the red sap can be spread over the entire black hull to proof it against water, wind and fire, borers and sea-scum – making maintenance significantly less expensive and time-consuming in the future, and further increasing a ship’s seaworthiness, strength and speed. And giving it a sheen like dried blood. Ten more of these dragonships are held in reserve. A standing force of ten smaller dragonships – two-masted and only fifty oars – is also in commission. Only one hundred men crew each, and armed with eight bolt-throwers. These serve mainly as scouts, escorts and messengers under sail. Primary means of ship-to-ship combat are missile fire followed by boarding operations, which are notoriously brutal and bloody. And often over with very quickly. Night attacks are preferred, for the advantage of surprise as much as terrifying the enemy. A variable number of Priestesses and Druids can be found on any ship, helping to care for the living wood and guide the captain and crew, and bring blessings of the High Faen upon them when at sea and in war.

o Total standing force of thirty warships with total standing crew is just over six thousand soldiers. Another ten warships and three thousand are rotating in reserve. The marines are all Oathsworn.

o If needs be, a few hundred fat-bellied galleons, great tallships commissioned as merchantmen can be pressed into service, able to bear into battle hundreds of soldiers. Several hundred longships also, small, but sturdy; equally able as oceangoing or river craft, capable of carrying a few dozen men, but these are transports, not warships, canal barges and fishing boats for the people in peacetime. The crews of these ships can be levied as well, but remain uncounted, as the economy would suffer some for it.

• Army: There is a standing army of six thousand soldiers. These are the Oathsworn, the Gallóglaigh, elite male warriors who have sworn blood-oaths of unfailing faithfulness to the High King, to serve with strength and honor and courage in defense of the realm and obey his every order. But it is an oath in both ways, for the High King is oathsworn to fulfill his obligations in being a warrior and ruler worthy of that loyalty, and to only give orders he would obey himself. There is a great deal of trust shared between the Oathsworn and the High King, and amongst themselves as well, and have very high morale and an indomitable spirit. Emulating the old Imperial legions of Rathis, the standing Oathsworn are divided into six chapters of one thousand led by captains, each divided further into ten companies of one hundred led by commanders, and then ten squadrons of ten led by sergeants, with various specialist roles interspersed throughout, such as surgeons and doctors and dedicated craftsmen; this division is more informal though, designed first to facilitate ease of organization. Leadership positions are given to those who would fill the role best. Two chapters are quartered at the capital, and one in each of the four smaller city-citadels. The Oathsworn are well-armed and armored in the distinctive steel of the Faeries. As elite professional soldiers, they wield all the weapons the Fianna forge for war: each bears the steelbow and several quivers each of killing arrows and flight arrows and assorted poisons, the paired blades, a few handaxes and a heavy two-hander, a longer thrusting spear and a number of lighter throwing ones, steel shields large and small, and other blades. To carry all this, and their regular supplies, each keeps a few fianara; one for riding into battle, the others as a pack animals and extra mounts when on the march. The war-mount is usually armored in layered steel, leather and silks like themselves. Many take their favored fiolara into battle as attack beasts and hunting hounds on campaigns. Unsurprisingly, they have a very varied and – dynamic – fighting style. Their tactics reflect this, and like the navy, battles are often bloody and brutally short. If victory cannot be achieved quickly, they will swiftly retreat, regroup, and approach again the situation with a different strategy. The Oathsworn can fit themselves and fight fairly well as light or heavy infantry or cavalry; in tighter, closed formations for shocking melee assaults up close; or broad, open formations for skirmishing missile attacks at range, or anything in between. Whatever works best. There are also the Glade Guard, the all-female counterpart of the Oathsworn, a group of warrior-women who dedicate their lives to guarding the High Priestess and all other Priestesses of the Goddesses, and guard too the Heart Trees and the Sacred Glade of An Tara, and within, the World Tree, Idrasill.

o Total standing force of six thousand professional soldiers. Another three thousand are rotating in reserve. These are all Oathsworn. The Glade Guard are far fewer in number, high hundreds, but are always active.

o Around another eighteen thousand can be called upon in times of war as levies, who would be nonprofessional soldiers, more lightly armed and armored, but still skilled and experienced fighters; they are a martial people, after all. In the event of a defensive siege of one of their cities, many more could be called to fight off invaders for a short time, though likely less experienced and equipped. In times of utmost trouble, the Elves and Dwarves of the land might lend their strength the defense as well.

Other: Jah?

RP Sample: Hah. http://forum.nationstates.net/viewtopic.php?f=31&t=322985

Did you read everything?: Yes!

Time Zone: Central!

#TFAE3.0

[Annihilators of Chan Island]

Military Description: They fight primarily as light infantry and cavalry, specializing in guerilla warfare and sudden strikes, ambushes and assassinations and scouting and spying. They have a fondness for night attacks, for the Fianna see well in the dark. They are expert riders of the native fianara, training their fiolara as attack beasts and hunting hounds, and eiolara as message-carriers. While all are raised in arms, and this reflects well in training for war, professional soldiers are all in employ of the High King – these be the Oathsworn. Overall, the Fianna rely heavily on knowing their enemy, in composition and position, and choosing the time and terrain of battle. Of note, their sense of honor is not the same as lowlanders – to do everything and anything one can to achieve victory and give all of oneself – such is honor. To the Fianna, any stratagem is viable. Following, they still have a habit of torturing enemies and prisoners, for only the weak and helpless would surrender, be captured or fail to escape. Headhunting of worthy foes remains fairly popular too; boiling the flesh from the skull and dipping it in molten gold for display. And, to a lesser degree, another tradition has continued since ancient times: the consuming of foes slain in combat, drinking their blood and feasting on their flesh. The Faeries see this as a sign of respect (as opposed to the corpses of weak and unworthy foes being left to rot), since they are believed to then absorb the strength and cunning of their enemies’ body and spirit like any other animal or plant; too, as honoring the memory of that last glorious battle between Faerie and foemen.

Though, it’s not quite seen the same by outsiders…

During times of peace, many of the professional soldiers are allowed – if not outright encouraged – by the High King to serve as mercenaries in the outer world, for its gains their people money, glory, and keeps them sharp. There have been a few times in recent history when neighboring nations have hired the entire Faerie standing military as mercenaries to win their wars for them. Including the Faerie navy. This is how they earned another name for themselves: the Gallóglaigh, ‘wandering warriors,’ those elite mercenary men who journey from job to job fighting for any outsider who will pay their price. However, the Fianna will no longer fight themselves as they once did centuries ago. Employers take heed, for should a Faerie find themselves set against one of their own in a job, they will view the contract as forfeit. And they will be most displeased…

Reputation and strategy are not their only strengths though. Their steel is highly regarded for its quality despite the poor iron available; the metalsmiths of Faerie are very gifted in their craft, having refined their technique over the centuries after absorbing and adapting the abilities of all the peoples they’ve had contact with. Faerie metalsmiths often spend several weeks in shaping weapons, and many months when making armor – great effort is expended in shaping each piece.
Faerie armor is as famed for its lightness and comfortable form-fitting shape as it is the dark colour and unique look. Nearly black, with patterns of rippling waves flowing through the sea of steel, pierced by little crystals that shine like stars. It is likened to a second skin – amusingly, their word for ‘armor’ literally means ‘skin-of-steel’. And it reflects those qualities in form and function. Bending, but not breaking; so very thin, but tough, and almost as durable as any Dwarven arms or armor, but much more mobile. Modeled after the body of its wearer, it mimics their musculature and features. Plates are fitted with leather straps and silken cord, overlapping slightly and covering all the body but the insides of joints, and small sections of the neck and groin; overall a very organic and exotic appearance. Their armors are often engraved and embossed with symbols of their family and clan, glyphs and images telling stories of their achievements, or bearing nature motifs of the wind and waves, the sea and sky and stars, trees and vines and flowers, and the native beasts and birds of the land. The helm is perhaps the most distinctive: the fearsome war-mask bearing likeness to a face, but one at once twisted in an image cold contempt and maddened rage, with draconic wings sweeping back like long ears from the wing-claws gripping the eyeholes, then meeting atop the centerline to form a slim crest shaped in the likeness of a dragon. That mask has long been burned into the memories of men living in the lowlands. For when the war-mask comes on, the earth lights afire and is drenched in blood.

It is rumored the Faerie cast old magicks of blood sacrifice and faerie-fire in forging their steel. But as no outsider has lived to tell the tale of its crafting, it remains only rumors.

However, armor of Faerie steel is not as omnipresent as outsiders believe. Many Fianna have not access to it as iron is rare in their realm; blades and bows of steel take priority so all are armed. However, they craft lookalikes of black leather, which, while not as protective, is still adequate armor. Of note, the leathers are also worn beneath the steel armor by those warriors who have it, as it is designed to attach; everything is also worn over padded under-armor and garments of silk, which are quite effective in their own right against bladed weapons and arrows, and provide more depth in defense for absorbing force.

Regardless of armor type, Faerie craft is always longlasting. Sets are often handed down for generations, refitted for one’s children, and their children’s children. Due to the engravings, the stories told on the armor’s surface, they are considered a living memory of dead loved ones, a legacy and lineage, and are treated with great care and respect. Names of past wearers are carved into the inside of the helm, and years they bore that armor. Unsurprisingly, Faeries will go to great lengths to retrieve the armor of their fellows who fall in battle, even unto death; should an outsider be found to possess even a single piece without explicit permission – well – they will not be gentle in obtaining it.

Their bows are almost equally renowned and feared. Compact and recurved things of hollow steel that take incredible strength to draw. Their power is unsurprisingly enormous, only Dwarven arbalests being comparable. Using their infamous Black Shafts, the all-steel killing arrows, Faerie archers are known to be able to knock a full-grown and well-armored man off his feet at a hundred paces – over two hundred yards. To say nothing of the wound one would be dealt. There have several instances when arrows will shoot clean through less-protected troop, even pierce another further back. Thick and heavy shields of layered steel, leather, linen, and wood are one of the few suitable protections against Black Shafts – though one best be wearing armor still, as arrowheads are often poisoned with the so-called Last Kiss of the Faeries – a small wound swiftly turns fatal, and one is dead in a few heartbeats. While less deadly, the lighter flight arrows have a range beyond many – shots on the battlefield can hit past two hundred fifty paces – over five hundred yards, and still wound less-armored men. Or kill the unprepared and unlucky. This power comes at a price though. Faerie archers, while devilishly strong, cannot fire so fast as some, particularly the master longbow archers of the elves. Steelbows are tiresome to draw, even with a lifetime of training. Children start training using downsized versions, and work their way up as they age to adulthood, growing into the bow.

Of note is their technique in bowmanship, and mounted bowmanship especially. When all four legs of their mounts are in the air, they release their held breath and loose the arrow – allowing for a very accurate and stable shot. The Oathsworn, the professional soldiers of the Fianna, are particularly adept at this. They are able to nock, draw, aim, and loose an arrow in a single swift and smooth motion – and so shoot a silk shred swinging in the wind from fifty paces, a typical contest among warriors.

Blades of the Fianna typically come in two types, both slender straight swords, the slightly curved edge a subtle leaf shape; one is longer, the other shorter. Both can be borne in one or two hands, but best for two and one, respectively, to wield them best. They slash and stab almost equally well, and will swiftly slip into gaps in armor and slice off limbs in skilled hands, and are meant for use mounted and on foot. Blades are usually forged as a pair, sibling swords made for one soldier. Every adult has these two blades, which are ever at their side or within reach. The Fianna are also rather fond of axes, haft and head all of steel, oft of the light one-handed variety, good for hacking, grappling, and throwing; though heavy two-handers are also popular when a Faerie warrior faces well-armored foes, with a thorn opposite the blade and spikes on top and bottom. All-steel spears are also used, in two forms: a heavier and longer thrusting spear, and shorter and lighter throwing spear. Both are balanced well enough in size and shape and weight to take the other’s place if needs be. A number of smaller blades are also common, ranging from needle-like impaling implements to all-purpose knives for hunting, dining, throwing and soldiering alike.

The Fianna have recently developed a circular shield as well, made of steel with a center boss, and backed with layers of padded silk and leather. Several different straps and cords are attached for various grips. It is like their armor: light and thin, but tough and durable, able to catch heavy war arrows and block many blows and still stay together. It has proven quite effective, and is repadly gaining popularity among the soldiery of Faerie. Two types are in effect: a smaller one worn when fighting with their bows, and a larger one for melee, often borne on the back when not in use. The edges are always sharpened. In practice, the shield is as much a weapon as any sword and shield, and are engraved like any armor of the Faeries. Many shields are modified by veterans to include sheaths for small blades.

Strengths/Weaknesses: The warriors of the Fianna are stronger in arms and fleeter of foot than many others, having the endurance and killing strength of men, and the mettle and keen senses of elves. Taller, with longer reach, more massive, they wield their great war bows of hollow steel, piercing through plate armor at a hundred paces, an impossible feat for lesser men with lesser bows – even Elven marksmen and Dwarven arbalesters have difficulty replicating such at fifty paces – a mere hundred yards. Their skills with blades are similar to behold, only the Elves, Dwarves, and most skilled of Men as peers. The Faeries are experts in ambushing, suddenly striking then slipping away into the shadowy forests, mists and underground ways – to hit hard and fast then disappear is their way. Often they can disrupt, divide and destroy larger and heavier equipped forces than their own, and their fighting style gives them a flexibility and fluidity few might match. They have a large number of highly experienced and heavily equipped professional troops in their army and navy, and excellent leaders, more so than most given their martial traditions, despite a smaller population. Overall, the Fianna are very cooperative and communicative in battle, and present a united front. Standing soldiers are regularly rotated in reserve so they might spend time with their families and rest – then they return fresh, ready and earnest.

Healers and surgeons of the Faeries are highly skilled as well. This comes not only from centuries as mercenaries who suffer innumerable injuries and illnesses in the field, but also from a great deal of experience in – experimenting – on the body, through torturing enemies and traitors. Adult troops are immune to most of the very poisons they use, and inoculated against several deadly diseases found in their homeland, and abroad; smallpox, bloody flux, greyscale, and measles, among others. The Faeries take it very seriously when they suffer casualties, and do all they can to minimize them. For all they are warriors, they like any other people hate to lose loved ones.

Their reputation is another strength of theirs. Few wish to face such frenzied and fearsome foes, for surviving an attack of the Faeries is often worse than being slain in battle by them. There is nowhere they will not hunt you, nowhere they will not pursue if one gains their ire, for they can and will survive nigh anywhere in the world one might run to escape them.

Perhaps it is not surprising they have no allies to speak of at present.

While appearing tough and difficult to fight, they are not at all invincible, as Rathis proved centuries ago. The Fianna cannot stand long in an open, pitched battle, and have little staying power, as many troops wear only their lookalike leathers and silks. None use polearms, pikes or thick and heavy shields, for their size and clumsiness is detrimental to their strengths and strategies. Should they be forced to fight on an open field, survival would be difficult to attain, let alone victory, as most soldiers are unable to form and fight in deep and solid formations like pike-blocks or shield-walls. Facing heavy cavalry in such an engagement has proved disastrous in history unless the Fianna were mounted themselves, or had arrayed hidden traps and defenses beforehand to waylay their foes. They also lack any kind of field artillery to support them. Protracted offensive sieges are difficult to pursue, especially when faced with well-trained and equipped enemies behind high walls with ample supplies.

However, they are rather – gifted – at finding ways around such things. And defensive sieges are another matter entirely, given the natural terrain, climate, and
frankly awe-inspiring defenses of the four city-citadels and the capital. The orc-goblin invasion two decades ago discovered that the hard way.

While the Fianna themselves are very cooperative and united amongst themselves in battle, the Dwarves and Elves of the realm are not quite so. While they will defend themselves, they will not answer any call to war by the High King or the Faeries unless the realm itself is under dire threat and their territories and peoples are at risk.

Of the Fianna, there are the Druids and Priestesses, who assist in the fighting when war comes, calling on the forces of nature in ancient rituals, prayers to the High Faen, the Nine Goddesses and One God to bless them and guide them to victory with good omens, veiling mists and shrouding storms as they search out the enemy via scrying spells, and help heal the wounded and sick with medicine and potions. The Fianna benefit well from their expertise and their casualties are typically significantly lower than other mannish armies when going to war.

Due to their telltale black arms and armor, silvery-grey hooded cloaks, and their dark reputation and fighting style, the Fianna are oft called by outsiders the Warriors of Shadow, Mistmen, or Stormcloaks. Or simply ‘demons’ or Faeries. They bear these names with pride. When the Wild Hunt is called by the High King, they become the Riders of Oreionn, Dark Hunters and Huntresses, the Dearg Ruadhri – the ghost-riders atop blood-red nightmares and accompanied by their spectral hunting hounds.

• Total Numbers: Thirty-six thousand men.

• Navy: A standing navy of twenty elite tall three-masted galleys, called dragonships among the Fianna, and the Black Ships by outsiders. Each are fitted with telltale black lateen sails and a hundred oars apiece, arranged in two banks of twenty-five per side, with an upper outrigger for the larger top oars which require two men. The outrigger also acts as a bulwark of sorts during battle. Nominal total of two hundred fifty men, plus six officers, all well-trained and experienced; one hundred fifty oarsmen, fifty sailors, and fifty marines per ship. The lattermost are reinforced as needed. The fifty marines are heavily armored in Faerie steel in preparation for battle, as they are all Oathsworn armed with the typical paired swords and steelbow, and various other weapons: handaxes and heavy two-handers, larger thrusting spears and light throwing spears – the lattermost which are also ammunition for the bolt-throwers. The hundred upper-bank oarsmen are armored in leathers, and bear bow and blades. The fifty sailors and fifty lower-banks oarsmen are most lightly armored in silks, but still bear bow and blades. A dozen dwarven-made bolt-throwers are mounted along each side, with two stone-throwers amidships and an elegant aftercastle raised to the stern atop a quarterdeck. Despite their armaments, these ships remain very swift and seaworthy, and able to outmaneuver any ramming galley constructed by outsiders. While fast under oars alone, they are indeed faster under sail alone. And as any Faerie ship, the hull and masts are made of one tree, a single piece of living ironwood, grown and shaped with care and sacred magicks by the Druids and Priestesses over lifetimes. Once fully grown and shaped, the wood is carefully slit in places so the red sap can be spread over the entire black hull to proof it against water, wind and fire, borers and sea-scum – making maintenance significantly less expensive and time-consuming in the future, and further increasing a ship’s seaworthiness, strength and speed. And giving it a sheen like dried blood. Ten more of these dragonships are held in reserve. A standing force of ten smaller dragonships – two-masted and only fifty oars – is also in commission. Only one hundred men crew each, and armed with eight bolt-throwers. These serve mainly as scouts, escorts and messengers under sail. Primary means of ship-to-ship combat are missile fire followed by boarding operations, which are notoriously brutal and bloody. And often over with very quickly. Night attacks are preferred, for the advantage of surprise as much as terrifying the enemy. A variable number of Priestesses and Druids can be found on any ship, helping to care for the living wood and guide the captain and crew, and bring blessings of the High Faen upon them when at sea and in war.

o Total standing force of thirty warships with total standing crew is just over six thousand soldiers. Another ten warships and three thousand are rotating in reserve. The marines are all Oathsworn.

o If needs be, a few hundred fat-bellied galleons, great tallships commissioned as merchantmen can be pressed into service, able to bear into battle hundreds of soldiers. Several hundred longships also, small, but sturdy; equally able as oceangoing or river craft, capable of carrying a few dozen men, but these are transports, not warships, canal barges and fishing boats for the people in peacetime. The crews of these ships can be levied as well, but remain uncounted, as the economy would suffer some for it.

• Army: There is a standing army of six thousand soldiers. These are the Oathsworn, the Gallóglaigh, elite male warriors who have sworn blood-oaths of unfailing faithfulness to the High King, to serve with strength and honor and courage in defense of the realm and obey his every order. But it is an oath in both ways, for the High King is oathsworn to fulfill his obligations in being a warrior and ruler worthy of that loyalty, and to only give orders he would obey himself. There is a great deal of trust shared between the Oathsworn and the High King, and amongst themselves as well, and have very high morale and an indomitable spirit. Emulating the old Imperial legions of Rathis, the standing Oathsworn are divided into six chapters of one thousand led by captains, each divided further into ten companies of one hundred led by commanders, and then ten squadrons of ten led by sergeants, with various specialist roles interspersed throughout, such as surgeons and doctors and dedicated craftsmen; this division is more informal though, designed first to facilitate ease of organization. Leadership positions are given to those who would fill the role best. Two chapters are quartered at the capital, and one in each of the four smaller city-citadels. The Oathsworn are well-armed and armored in the distinctive steel of the Faeries. As elite professional soldiers, they wield all the weapons the Fianna forge for war: each bears the steelbow and several quivers each of killing arrows and flight arrows and assorted poisons, the paired blades, a few handaxes and a heavy two-hander, a longer thrusting spear and a number of lighter throwing ones, steel shields large and small, and other blades. To carry all this, and their regular supplies, each keeps a few fianara; one for riding into battle, the others as a pack animals and extra mounts when on the march. The war-mount is usually armored in layered steel, leather and silks like themselves. Many take their favored fiolara into battle as attack beasts and hunting hounds on campaigns. Unsurprisingly, they have a very varied and – dynamic – fighting style. Their tactics reflect this, and like the navy, battles are often bloody and brutally short. If victory cannot be achieved quickly, they will swiftly retreat, regroup, and approach again the situation with a different strategy. The Oathsworn can fit themselves and fight fairly well as light or heavy infantry or cavalry; in tighter, closed formations for shocking melee assaults up close; or broad, open formations for skirmishing missile attacks at range, or anything in between. Whatever works best. There are also the Glade Guard, the all-female counterpart of the Oathsworn, a group of warrior-women who dedicate their lives to guarding the High Priestess and all other Priestesses of the Goddesses, and guard too the Heart Trees and the Sacred Glade of An Tara, and within, the World Tree, Idrasill.

o Total standing force of six thousand professional soldiers. Another three thousand are rotating in reserve. These are all Oathsworn. The Glade Guard are far fewer in number, high hundreds, but are always active.

o Around another eighteen thousand can be called upon in times of war as levies, who would be nonprofessional soldiers, more lightly armed and armored, but still skilled and experienced fighters; they are a martial people, after all. In the event of a defensive siege of one of their cities, many more could be called to fight off invaders for a short time, though likely less experienced and equipped. In times of utmost trouble, the Elves and Dwarves of the land might lend their strength the defense as well.

Other: Jah?

RP Sample: Hah. http://forum.nationstates.net/viewtopic.php?f=31&t=322985

Did you read everything?: Yes!

Time Zone: Central!

#TFAE3.0

Your three posts put my own app to utter shame. No, seriously, I'm now positively embarrassed at how short my own application feels. Well done!

To answer your first question: yes, yes you have gone overboard.... want to be friends to the Imperial Heartlands?

[The Starlight]

Your three posts put my own app to utter shame. No, seriously, I'm now positively embarrassed at how short my own application feels. Well done!

To answer your first question: yes, yes you have gone overboard.... want to be friends to the Imperial Heartlands?

Back off, he's mine!

And Sil, accepted, as long as you're sure you can handle that many chars. And that our houses become besties!

[Conwy-Shire]

I won't be able to post by the end of the day; so if Mesrane, Starlight or Nasaira want to drag my character and escort along; the escort is 30 men who prefer to fight on foot but ride to get where they need to be ('search' dragoons - without the muskets). Also I think it's best if you don't drag the daughter into the streets and leave her at the Estate...

[Ghondra]

So what have I missed so far?