The Raven and The Bear: A Corvidae Visit to the City of Mages
A Joint Writing by Lazarian and Pragia
It would be a cool mid autumn day that the vessel Arkor would moor itself in the harbor of the River's Jewel. The bireme was in excellent repair, its pine-planked hull giving off a bright, almost alabaster silhouette over the water. Aboard the vessel would be a crew of rowers as well as a contingent of Magi of the Eleskar. First among them would be Ilsah Lethsar, Archmage of the Order of the Waters. A stocky man, the magi would nominally be the master of the small fleet of vessels that the Eleskar had begun using to traverse the river Arkor and beyond, though he served at the pleasure of the Kelskar. Today the oars of the Arkor would be used not in pursuit of far away lands, nor in the transport of stone and goods to far ports. No, today the hull would be to bring a new people to the City of Magi.
Upon mooring, the bireme was the largest vessel among the smaller trade and fishing boats, and a plank would be extended and tied down to the pier. The capital of the Republic was always a sight to behold, the only city that the Archmage would admit to being of similar stature and beauty to the Eleskar. A pair of Kelskar scouts, operating as navigators and officers of the ship, would hand a small pouch of crude silver coins: Magisterium Srebras newly minted with the face of a woman with angular features: Grand Magister Tyraal. It would be of note that her name would not appear on the coin, rather just the name "Eleskar" would be printed in their alphabet under the depiction. The guards would take the coinage, silver was silver regardless of markings, and the Eleskar were not ones to create impure things.
Today the archmage was present to see to the transport of a foreign delegation: the River's Jewel has served as a place where minds of many nations have exchanged ideas. It was a situation that the Eleskar were voluntarily not party to, as the magi found their knowledge sacred and to be sought out and deliberated rather than haphazardly shared among men from all places. It is a relic of the older times where all secrets were held only to the Magi, but such tradition would be maintained. Nonetheless, the halls of Agor'a where people may openly debate the ideas had not been visited by many outsiders.
The cooler north was not as approachable as the more temperate and lush base of the river, and the Eleskar did not have a reputation of hospitality among their neighbors, a reputation likely passed along to visiting scholars. Nonetheless, a delegation of scholars from the people of Corvus has sought the City of Magi, and the newly established and formalized Magisterium viewed it as an opportunity to curry interest from far flung peoples. It was decided that, with the ongoing strife in the lands around the city, the safest and fastest transport would be by ship, so it was thus that Ilsah was here with the best of the three ships he maintained to make an impression and provide transit.
As further collaboration continued with the scholars of Riversmouth, the Spirit-Guides of Corvus heard tales of the quiet and secretive neighbors to the North. Two civilizations, formerly unknown to Corvus. Needless to say, they eagerly petitioned the elected councils of the River’s Jewel for access to these people. The wise men of the River warned the Corvidians that the Eleskar were an inward-focusing people, wary of outsiders. Nevertheless, the spirit-guides petitioned and argued and quarreled until they had acquired an audience, as the hard-headed and stubborn people or Corvus were apt to do.
As the plank was extended down from the Arkor, the Spirit-Guides eagerly flocked around it, a contingent of twenty to thirty. They were typical men of Corvus - hazel eyes, tanned skin, and braided red beards. Adorned in grey robes with four red stripes painted from hood to foot and clasps of bronze, they looked up at the bireme with admiration. Shipmaking was not within the capabilities of the great hill-city of the south, and to traverse the wild waves upon such a creation was an impressive thing indeed. A few guards stood nearby, armed in heavy scaled vests of bronze and bearing heavy spears, red stripes painted beneath their eyes in various patterns, indicating rank or accomplishment. A translator from Riversmouth stood with this delegation, and he turned to greet the men of Eleskar.
“It is a great honor to be introduced to new men and new gods!” he called up to Ilsah, gesturing to the priest next to him (as to indicate who was speaking) as the foremost of the Corvidian priests bowed. “I am Jevan Mountainsinger, current Master Dreamweaver of this pack. I shall represent my people upon this visit. We are greatly blessed to receive such generosity from your people.”
The receiving archmagus would nod, speaking in his tongue to the interpreter, though his own grey eyes would regard the Master Dreamweaver closely. “The pleasure is the Magisters’, Master Dreamwalker Jevan. Archmage Ilsah of the Waters welcomes the sons of Corvus to the northlands.” Ilsah would respond, welcoming the contingent aboard. It was tradition among the Eleskar to use first names alongside titles, as family names were typically little more than identifiers beyond the house of the Grand Magister. These men seemed more wild than is typical for the magi, though gruffness ought not be interpreted as simplicity, a mistake the Eleskar have already made in their contacts with the Machaka and evolving internal relations with their Kelskar. The use of armed men was simply not present aboard the ship. Perhaps as a sign of naivety, arrogance, or trust, one could never know in which proportions. Nonetheless, the magi present would admire the craftsmanship from afar. “It is a twelve day’s rowing upriver to the city, there is ample space below if you prefer.” he would advise
It would end up taking only ten days to reach the City of the Eleskar, the currents not being as fierce as expected. The river banks did not have onlooking peasants, and beyond the occasional dirt path which runs along the bank, few indications that the region was even inhabited would be present. Rather, the sons of Corvus would spot the masonry walls of the city, it's simple towers rising above the local treelines of the endless forests of the region. Indeed, as the Arkor approached, it would also see stone walkways before and behind the walls, the entire bank lined with a half dozen piers and wharves for coming and going vessels. There would be one other ship presently moored, the Talkor being cleaned of river scum by attentive commoners. Upon docking, the Archmage would be the first to leave the vessel, instructing the dock workers to tie it down thoroughly, as it would not be leaving back downriver for a time until their guests were ready.
From the perspective of men entering the city from the considerable docks, they would see many buildings of white and tan stones, all hewn and cut into precise blocks and stacked, sometimes even lofted with a second story. There seemed to be considerable organization to most of the city, soot-producing smithies and shoppes being kept near the walls, while much of the inner city consisted of impressive housing with looming aqueducts. Truly the amount of opulence on display would be appropriate to a tour aiming to impress, with natural vines and shrubs lining homes. Such a notion, however, would be challenged by the sidelong glances the people were giving them. The Eleskar were a people of pale complexion with a mix of dark and fair hair. Slightly taller than average and with hawkish facial features, their eyes would be suspicious of their visitors. The contingent of men of the cloth would begin to see more men of similar stature to them, wearing robes and carrying around baskets full of small disks of a tanned material, looking similar to a caked bread of some sort. The backbone of society was the provision of her people with food created from their own will, provided by the magi.
Finally, the contingent would reach the most massive structure of the city, a behemoth of cut stones arranged in a sloping ziggurat capped with a hall. “This is the Grand Scriptorum of the Eleskar, I will be taking you up to converse with the council of Magisters, merely a formality as a greeting.” There would be many men working in the lower levels, their hands slowly moving in complex forms as a soft violet glow would fill the halls. The visitors would be led to the upper levels, reaching a flat top with small gardens running along it. Here men in robes would be debating in open amphitheaters, the area surprisingly loud for how astute and opulent it would appear.
A large pair of doors would open for them to a circular room, the stone turning to a near mirror polish upon entering. There would be concentric circular steps leading down to the central landing, with one chair higher than the others directly opposite the entrance, and seven others spaced evenly to either side, circling the center. The high seat would be occupied alone, a young woman sitting in it with her hands on its arms. She was wearing a purple robe, the only one seen as they moved through the city, and a laurel of glowing purple flowers would adorn her head. All the other seats would be empty, though each one would have a name carved beneath it. She would wait for the scholars to enter, her voice obviously small, but carrying through the room excellently, in a surprisingly eloquent verbage of the Corvidae with only some mispronunciations. “Welcome, Sons of Corvus, to the Eleskar, the realm of the Dreamers. I am Tyraal Eleskar. What do you seek to learn of our people?”
Jevan paused, taken aback with surprise. It was unusual for a stranger to greet them in their own tongue - either she was supremely educated, or the influence of Corvus had spread far beyond their previous understanding. Judging by from what they had seen so far, it was likely the first.
Their journey had been uneventful, although the spirit-guides had been tremendously sea-sick for much of the duration, due to the entirely new experience. They had been quite impressed by the Land of the Magisters, as the Riverlanders called it. Unlike Corvus, which was a sprawling and incoherent jumble of workshops, markets, and homesteads strewn across the broad plains, Eleskar was neat, ordered, and pristine. The rural areas of the region showed few signs of inhabitation, aside from infrequent footpaths. The urban area, on the other hand, was heavily developed, with orderly paved roads between carefully placed districts. The Guides assumed that whatever government ruled this place was much more powerful and autocratic than that of their home, to order men to live and organize themselves in such a way.
There were a few things of note, as they were guided through the city. The first was the skeptical looks and frowns of the citizens as they passed by - apparently, these men were skeptical and distrustful of outsiders. Not entirely unreasonable, considering their proximity to the Demon’s Den, but certainly unusual for the Corvidians, who were very open to other peoples and cultures. But perhaps, living in such prosperity and order, the Eleskar had no need for the gifts and secrets of other men. Regardless, the stares did not dissuade the Spirit-Guides all that much - as far as they could tell, few outsiders were allowed past these sturdy walls. Like the Riverlanders, these people were pale-skinned, though their features were sharper, and with darker hair intermixed throughout the population.
The second thing of note was the absence of a prominent military force. There were a few men of Eles patrolling the walls, but their equipment was rudimentary and poor. Armor of bone and stone-tipped spears - a bizarre contrast with the impressive development elsewhere. In Corvus, every third man would at the very least be in the auxiliary forces. For such a city to have such a weak force was...concerning, in their minds. Though they would not voice such a sentiment - that would be quite impolite.
But the third, and most important of all, was
magic. What these people took for granted was unexplainable and astounding to the guides. The Four revealed themselves through natural disasters and the weather, speaking through vague omens and unpredictable acts. Whatever god or spirit watched over the Eleskar acted with direct influence - men conjured bread from nothing through mere whispers and motions and moved stones with their minds. Such direct divine providence was terrifying and awe-inspiring, with a few of the Spirit-Guides labeling the God of the El’es as the most powerful spirit they had witnessed.
The leader of these people was a young woman, dressed in a purple robe with a wreath of purple flowers atop her head. Jevan assumed that this was likely a hereditary position, akin to the government of Penithel - it would be odd for such a young woman to have amassed the wealth necessary to command such a position like in Corvus.
The lead spirit-guide bowed deeply to a single knee (as was the custom of the spirit-guides), the small host behind him following his lead. The few soldiers with them opted not to bow, raising clenched fists in the typical military salute.
“Greetings, mighty Tyraal.” he said, looking up to the vast high seat of the throne. “We merely sought to witness the wonder of Eleskar, of which we heard from the River’s Jewel. We come bearing tidings of friendship, trade, and shared knowledge, should such things appeal to your majesty. There is much we could learn from this noble city...and a few things that it, perhaps, could learn from the sons of the Wolf.” he finished, standing tall and proud.
The Grand Magister would nod. She knew that she personally would not be as impressive as her people’s achievements to these visitors, but she was pleased by the level of courtesy shown by the visitors, more than what is usually presented in this chamber. “Please, rise men of the south.” She had dismissed the Magisters for this meeting, her chamber of advisors being directed to manage the standardization of their many texts among other plans which her people were undertaking. Such a move was also an assertion by the young leader that she would personally see to the meeting of cultures. Though she was a voracious reader and one of the keenest minds of her people, her resources regarding Corvan culture and language were incomplete observations primarily from the Riverlands.
Ilsah would introduce his leader to the Master Dreamweaver. It was a title that inspired a romantic and spiritual notion in the Grand Magister, her understanding of the Spirit-Guides was that they held similar views to the Eleskar that abstract concepts were the secrets of gods and spirits which men needed to wrest from their grasp. “Jevan, your tidings are received warmly. It is rare that an outsider willingly seeks out our home, and you may stay for as long as you wish with the Magisterium’s Blessing.” she would declare, something that Ilsah would bite his tongue upon hearing, the archmage not quite understanding why his leader has so drastically varied from the traditional allotments granted to outsiders. “Our libraries are yours to read through, and our magi will be more than willing to engage with your people in discussion of knowledge and faith, myself included. However, the teachings of the arcane are held sacred, and we simply cannot convey such teachings to outsiders, I hope that you can understand that the teachings of the Violet Queen must be kept to her people.” she would elaborate, adopting a very intent pose, leaning forward.
“I must say, it is fascinating to have men from so far in this chamber, but you may speak freely of your observations of our City, a foreign perspective is not often received. I am curious about your homeland, as to my knowledge not a single mage has made it further south than Avnelin.” She would signal to the guards at the door, and a scribe would quickly enter with a stack of papers, a wooden stylus, and a bottle of ink. Though there was still much for arrogance among the Eleskar, their current leader was much less certain of their superiority, and their recent failings has made it clear to her that there were many deficiencies in her home which she was blind to.
Jevan cleared his throat.
“I respect that your most sacred traditions are secrets to be locked away. We would not dare tread on holy grounds, nor pry our fingers into matters between you and whatever gods your people worship.” he said respectfully, nodding his head. “Thank you for your splendid hospitality. The sons of Corvus are charged with deciphering the blessings of other men and their gods, however far they may be strewn across the many lands. We shall stay until our curiosity is filled - no longer than a few seasons, surely.”
He paused, thinking for a moment.
“Corvus...is a great city. In some ways, similar to yours, and yet in many ways, not alike in the slightest. It is to the far South - over two years travel from here on land. The city is set on a great hill amidst vast plains of wheat and grass, with a thousand sprawling herds and tents surrounding it. There are few trees around, much unlike here. But enough of the geography of the place. Our people number in the thousands, spread broadly across the rural areas and the crowded city alike.
We worship the Four Aspects. Vennon, god of War. Jacnon, god of Work. The Crone, god of Wisdom. And the Crow, the god of the Wild.” he said succinctly, explaining it as they did to the children of their culture.
“A god for war?” Tyraal said curiously, raising her eyebrow in surprise.
“Yes.” Jevan said, almost excitedly. He had been one of the War-Priests when he was younger, accompanying the soldiers and giving the morning rites. Some of the guards with them grinned, finding her question rather amusing. “Vennon, the Wolf. The Father of the Bloodred Pack. The Many-Fanged Conqueror.” he continued. “Though do not confuse him for a Black King, the gods of the Demon’s Den. War and death are not what we glorify. In whole, it is a dreadful and bloody affair. But bravery, strength, and power - those are things to be admired, respected, and striven towards.”
He paused, looking around for guards or other nobles, hidden in the pillars. Delivering criticism to another ruler was potentially a great diplomatic mishap, though the Corvidians were known for being blunt at times.
“Do I have permission to speak with absolute honesty? To offer the sharpest truth from the depth of my soul? It may not be something you wish to hear.”
“It is my duty to my people to see to the concerns that they do not see, Dreamwalker. I take no offense to our failings, though I am sure that my council will find it so after I relay it to them.” she would say evenly, leaning slightly forward as to listen. Indeed, there were the home guards who were rarely seen, only a handful within the chamber however, their violet tabards dark even in the lit room.
“Very well then, your highness. Eleskar is a magnificent city, but even the smallest child of Corvus would ask this question: Where are your soldiers, oh great Tyraal? What men walk upon your walls and guard your streets at night? Is your seclusion so great that none dare approach? Does your god itself protect you from thieves, bandits, and enemies? I spotted...perhaps a hundred warriors. I mean no offense, Queen of the Eles, but should the fighting army of Corvus throw itself against these walls, the city would not withstand it for a month. Not that we should ever do such a thing, but…”
He trailed off.
“A thousand fighting men make their homes in Corvus. Equipped in thick Soulstone armor, raising sharp and sturdy spears, training day and night for the battles yet to come. And with them, we impose our will on those who defy us, or those are not strong enough to protect themselves from the dangers of this world. It is our right to do so, as the chosen of the gods. Your people are numerous, proud, and wise. The populace is healthy, educated, and clever. Far more so than my people, and I have no shame in admitting such a thing.”
His voice darkened, and his eyebrows furrowed.
“But every last man, woman, and child could be stamped out in a few moments, should the Hesukar of Skras Tor arrive on your doorstep. Should the Nirari tribes turn to cruelty, should barbarians from the night sweep in, should raiders crawl in from the banks of the rivers. It is a dangerous world out there.”
Tyraal would keep an uninflected countenance as she listens to the words of the Spirit-Guide. She was not an adept politician yet, her concern would creep onto her face as the man spoke of more dire times. “I see… In times past, we have raised forces, our Kelskar have often kept us aware of coming threats, but we have not had reason nor will under Agor’a to consign our men into the soldiery. Such things have deprived generations of potential knowledge before, and taking up arms has often been the refuge of the tragic few that avoid the teachings of the magi.” She would explain simply. “I would figure as much, as times before, we would hold behind our walls and muster the forces needed to repulse aggressors, but as your people are keenly aware, our contributions to proactive fighting have been limited at best.”
She would take a few breaths, murmuring to the scribe in Eleskari her own notes, she was concerned about how to convince her council to concur with the notions brewing in her mind. “The men of darkness indeed come, their foul magics leveraged to warfare. Perhaps we ought to learn to do similar.” she would consider darkly, openly. “Where the power to move stone may lead to tall towers, it may also lead to the descent of them upon those who would threaten our prosperity. I am aware of your Godfists, do you perhaps imagine a unit of armored magi being capable of similar things?” she would continue to muse, a dark spirit of creativity floating about her words.
Jevan put his hand on his chin for a few moments, thinking.
“Seeing as your words can compel your god Agor’a to raise stones, I would expect that they should be able to compel him to hurl them as well.” he said, clearly liking the idea. “A clever thought, your highness. It is certainly worth looking into! And if I may, I shall offer one piece of consolation - it is far easier to defend a city than it is to impose your will on others. If this is Eleskar’s sole flaw, it is hardly a fatal one.”
A smirk would run across Tyraal’s face for a fleeting moment “As much as I would wish it, and as much as the magistrate agrees, there are notions of us assembling forces to demonstrate our might upon Skras Tor, some even stupid as to propose to do so single handedly. As long as the magi rule, there will be limited interests in martial pursuit.” obviously such considerations have been brought to this very chamber. “I must ask, what material do your kind use to forge their weapons? It is unlike our native Copper, and similarly unlike the hardened stone of the Riverfolk.” She knew of iron, of course, not that the Kelskar were capable of sourcing such material within their realm, but wished to project an aura of cluelessness.
“This,” Jevan said proudly, gesturing to the thick scale vests of the guards, “is Soulstone. The blessing of the Four Aspects. The single gift that set us apart from uncivilized men, that brought us forward into enlightenment. All of the divine, working in conjunction, whispered this secret into the mind of Cavon, the First Spirit-Guide. Among all the cities of the South, Corvus alone has mastery of its creation and usage.
The Grand Magister would raise her eyebrows at this, her understanding limited of such things. “Indeed, it is of the divines. Material has, unfortunately, been the limiting factor in any martial advancements we would need to make. There have been many exotic materials found further north, but their secrets remain unfound by us. Simply put, many of our magi are more interested in cerebral pursuits than practical ones, as of late.” she would say regretfully “I would love to discuss the intricacies of our faith, for there has been much scholarship in our ranks on the subject, and perhaps this tapestry of the divine has more gaps than we have found.”
“And I would be honored to listen. The Four Aspects are the gods of Corvus, but they are not the only spirits that reside in the Dreaming World. Each city has their own divine protector - even those of our enemies. In our city, we have a great wonder - the Temple of a Thousand Pillars. Hundreds of shrines, dedicated to every worthy and noble god, so that we may have them look upon our city with favor. If your highness would not mind, please - tell us your ways, so that we may learn.”
And so they did. Such were things in the Enlightened City and the Lands of the Wolf.