A Catnip Plantation Production
Light thinks it travels faster than anything but it is wrong.
No matter how fast light travels,
it finds the darkness has always got there first,
and is waiting for it.
The history of Anur is shrouded in darkness. There may be those who will dispute this. They will tell you that the world of Anur is a world blessed by light, and that the sunlit lands of Irre are all that there is, aside from the damned regions beneath the earth. Make no mistake, they are fools, deluded by their faith and made complacent by their false order. But long before there was light in the sky, far away from the reach of mortals, the land above was dark and barren, and there was only the world within the bowels of the earth. It was there that life began, somewhere in the dark, born from the mud and shade, the earthen blood and the depths of the undersea. Stem and spore, sinew and scale, we all lived in tranquil stasis amidst the glowing rivers of earthen blood and the endless caverns of the underworld. Death treaded lightly and time itself slumbered during that forgotten age.
Then it came, from far above the world. The ceiling of the world itself cracked open, leaving the underworld exposed to the sky for the first time, and from it descended a great sphere of swirling flame. The Everburning Skyfire made itself known to us, and though many shied away from the forbidden flame and fled deeper into the bowels of the earth, others sought to explore the new world that had been opened to them, claim it, conquer it. The forerunners of the Six Tribes left their origins forgotten somewhere in the dark and spread across the lands above, the surface of the world, which would in time come to be known as Irre, the Blessed Realm. However, not content with the new territories they colonized, these peoples sought to subject all of the Blessed Realm to their will, along with all of their competitors. A bloody millenium followed. Menai, Alfari, Dvarda, Fereni and Vantyrae, the beings that had come from below, waged vicious wars against each other, each seeking complete dominion over the Everburning Skyfire, for they believed truly that whoever controlled the Skyfire would earn the divine right to reclaim all of Irre.
This violent stasis, however, would not last. It could not last. A thousand and one harvests after the beginning of the Great Strife that followed the Descent, the Nine Kingdoms stood dominant over the land, locked in a stalemate that had lasted centuries. The solution would soon present itself, however. Many claim to this ley that it was revealed to the Lords of the Nine Kingdoms by the whispers of the Skyfire itself. A ceremony was performed, and the Everburning Skyfire was thus sundered. From it were created the Nine Flames of Anung, one for each of the Nine Kingdoms, legitimizing their right to rule their own territories on the Blessed Realm. They were joined by the sixth tribe, the Enkala. The endless bloodshed then ceased, for the Nine Lords were now truly, and by divine right, equal in standing and in right. Following this event, the hollow that connected the surface to the underground sealed itself with a rumble, as if rejecting that new order, and so our ancient home was left buried somewhere in the dark.
Not all members of the Six Tribes swore fealty to the Nine Kingdoms, however. Many a time, independent nations attempted to rise up and establish a territory of their own, but the tyrannous Lords, justified by their dominion over the Nine Flames of Anung, invariably cannibalized these upstart kingdoms, establishing their own rule with an iron fist and incredible violence. Of course, the Lords were not immortal, and the Nine Kingdoms were not invincible. In the following centuries, some of them would fall and others would rise, the Flames of Anung changing hands with the passing of the harvests, though their number was, and ever would be, nine. In time, the power of the Flames of Anung summoned another Skyfire, a true Skyfire, shining bright above Anur and casting its rays upon the land, blessing the realm with holy light. So they said. Despite all of these gifts, however, there were many who were not content with the rule of the Nine Flames of Anung and their holders. They did not believe an ancient relic should grant dominion over the land, and so, they sought their freedom somewhere in the dark. Led by the Vantyrae, these members of the Six Tribes went on a Great Exodus across the Ebony Sea on the largest fleet that Anur had ever seen.
Seven long harvests would pass as the brave sailors waited, their vessels gliding over the Ebony Sea. Beset by famine, disease and great and terrible monsters come from the depths of the blackened ocean, many did not survive. Out of over three hundred ships, only twenty would make it. To where, you ask? The Faram Anur, or the Far Land in the ancient tongue of the Six Tribes, known by many names. The Coldlight Archipelago, the Abyssal Chain, the Promised Isles. A place far away from the grasp of the Nine Flames of Anung and the Skyfire that they summoned. A land with no blazing light in the skies, a land shrouded in darkness, where mysteries lay hidden and strange creatures dwelt. Where kingdoms would rise and fall with the ebb and flow of the tide. Millennia have passed since then. Completely cut off from the Blessed Realm of Irre, the inhabitants of the Coldlight Archipelago have largely forgotten their origins once again. Now their descendants find themselves in a dark land filled with untapped potential for adventure. Secrets can be found all around you, traveler, and as always, the truth lies somewhere in the dark.
Then it came, from far above the world. The ceiling of the world itself cracked open, leaving the underworld exposed to the sky for the first time, and from it descended a great sphere of swirling flame. The Everburning Skyfire made itself known to us, and though many shied away from the forbidden flame and fled deeper into the bowels of the earth, others sought to explore the new world that had been opened to them, claim it, conquer it. The forerunners of the Six Tribes left their origins forgotten somewhere in the dark and spread across the lands above, the surface of the world, which would in time come to be known as Irre, the Blessed Realm. However, not content with the new territories they colonized, these peoples sought to subject all of the Blessed Realm to their will, along with all of their competitors. A bloody millenium followed. Menai, Alfari, Dvarda, Fereni and Vantyrae, the beings that had come from below, waged vicious wars against each other, each seeking complete dominion over the Everburning Skyfire, for they believed truly that whoever controlled the Skyfire would earn the divine right to reclaim all of Irre.
This violent stasis, however, would not last. It could not last. A thousand and one harvests after the beginning of the Great Strife that followed the Descent, the Nine Kingdoms stood dominant over the land, locked in a stalemate that had lasted centuries. The solution would soon present itself, however. Many claim to this ley that it was revealed to the Lords of the Nine Kingdoms by the whispers of the Skyfire itself. A ceremony was performed, and the Everburning Skyfire was thus sundered. From it were created the Nine Flames of Anung, one for each of the Nine Kingdoms, legitimizing their right to rule their own territories on the Blessed Realm. They were joined by the sixth tribe, the Enkala. The endless bloodshed then ceased, for the Nine Lords were now truly, and by divine right, equal in standing and in right. Following this event, the hollow that connected the surface to the underground sealed itself with a rumble, as if rejecting that new order, and so our ancient home was left buried somewhere in the dark.
Not all members of the Six Tribes swore fealty to the Nine Kingdoms, however. Many a time, independent nations attempted to rise up and establish a territory of their own, but the tyrannous Lords, justified by their dominion over the Nine Flames of Anung, invariably cannibalized these upstart kingdoms, establishing their own rule with an iron fist and incredible violence. Of course, the Lords were not immortal, and the Nine Kingdoms were not invincible. In the following centuries, some of them would fall and others would rise, the Flames of Anung changing hands with the passing of the harvests, though their number was, and ever would be, nine. In time, the power of the Flames of Anung summoned another Skyfire, a true Skyfire, shining bright above Anur and casting its rays upon the land, blessing the realm with holy light. So they said. Despite all of these gifts, however, there were many who were not content with the rule of the Nine Flames of Anung and their holders. They did not believe an ancient relic should grant dominion over the land, and so, they sought their freedom somewhere in the dark. Led by the Vantyrae, these members of the Six Tribes went on a Great Exodus across the Ebony Sea on the largest fleet that Anur had ever seen.
Seven long harvests would pass as the brave sailors waited, their vessels gliding over the Ebony Sea. Beset by famine, disease and great and terrible monsters come from the depths of the blackened ocean, many did not survive. Out of over three hundred ships, only twenty would make it. To where, you ask? The Faram Anur, or the Far Land in the ancient tongue of the Six Tribes, known by many names. The Coldlight Archipelago, the Abyssal Chain, the Promised Isles. A place far away from the grasp of the Nine Flames of Anung and the Skyfire that they summoned. A land with no blazing light in the skies, a land shrouded in darkness, where mysteries lay hidden and strange creatures dwelt. Where kingdoms would rise and fall with the ebb and flow of the tide. Millennia have passed since then. Completely cut off from the Blessed Realm of Irre, the inhabitants of the Coldlight Archipelago have largely forgotten their origins once again. Now their descendants find themselves in a dark land filled with untapped potential for adventure. Secrets can be found all around you, traveler, and as always, the truth lies somewhere in the dark.
What is this, then, that you have stumbled across? Is it an epic swashbuckling adventure for you to embark upon? Is it yet another bog standard medieval fantasy roleplay? Is it, perhaps, the next big thing? For the first two questions, well, yes and no - and I certainly hope so for the third! Welcome to Somewhere In The Dark, a new fantasy project created by yours truly. Rather than an ordinary story-driven roleplay with a predetermined path, or an open-ended sandbox game, however, I decided to try for something different. The idea behind this project is to have the world of Anur serve as a backdrop on which anyone can run their own adventure, with their own rules and lineup, as long as they are able to catch the interest of other players. Essentially, rather than a place for discussion about a singular story, this thread is to serve as a hub where interested parties can discuss adventure and character ideas, make interest checks and work out details together. With this in mind, I have left much of the lore, geography and details of the Coldlight Archipelago open-ended so that players can contribute to the worldbuilding in a way that better suits their stories. However, in the interest of creating a proper framework for this, I've fleshed out some more of the world and its mythology and core concepts. If you are interested, then please, continue reading and I'll see you at the end of the journey!
The Great Races of Anur
The Six Tribes The six races that inhabit the Blessed Realm of Irre and the Nine Kingdoms therein are collectively known as the Six Tribes. They are the dominant races of Irre, and have been so for millenia. With the exception of the Enkala, they can trace their origins back to the forgotten underworld beneath the surface of Anur. In addition to their dominion of the Blessed Realm, they have also come to inhabit the Faram Anur after arriving there at the conclusion of the Great Exodus and settling down on the newly discovered lands. |
 Menai The Dauntless The Tribe of Menai constitutes the most populous race on Irre, and a close second on the isles of the Coldlight Archipelago. The jacks of all trades, they are athletic and strong, and while they are not the most powerful or advanced race, they are known for being resourceful and determined. A Menash male stands at about 6 feet on average, while a Menash female is usually about 5 feet 6 inches tall. Their skin color varies, but tends towards darker tones, as does their hair, while their eye color tends towards lighter tones. They don't have any significant distinguishing features compared to the other races, though some might say this in itself helps to tell them apart. Menai normally last 50 to 70 harvests. |  Alfari The Graceful The Tribe of Alfari consists of the self-appointed keepers of nature, wise and meticulous in their endeavors, as well as extremely nimble and agile. Surprisingly, their civilization is fairly advanced in terms of technology, albeit not to the level of the Dvarda, and tends more towards harmony with the natural environment instead of exploiting it. A male Alfar's height averages to about 6 feet and 2 inches, while an Alfar woman tends to stand at 5 feet 8 inches. Their skin varies between pale tones of pink and tan, and their eyes are always clear and bright. Their pointy ears, slender shapes and pale hair serve to set them apart from the other tribes. They live about 100 to 120 harvests. |  Dvarda The Impassible The Tribe of Dvarda is known for their hardy men and women, who are very stubborn and resilient. In a curious paradox, the Dvarda are the most technologically advanced race on the face of Anur, with the most talented engineers and metalworkers of the land at their sole disposal, yet their society is also the most traditionalist one, rigid and stern, allowing for little mobility. A Dvar man will generally measure up to 5 feet even in height, while a female Dvar will instead be about 4 feet and 6 inches. Their colors all have a tendency towards oranges, browns and reds, though their eyes may have brighter shades instead. They are set apart by their short and stocky figures, as well as their thick hair. A Dvar's lifespan is roughly 40 to 60 harvests. |
 Fereni The Whimsical The Tribe of Fereni is known for the cunning and the surprising insight of its members. Fereni are free-spirited and playful creatures, and not physically imposing in the slightest. Though they are the least advanced civilization of Irre, Fereni don't seem to care, preferring to live in the open wilds. An average Feren has a height of about 4 feet 6 inches, whether male or female. Their skin color ranges from a pale beige to a dull dark brown, their hair can be one of many unusual colors, and their eyes have a glow of their own. These eyes, as well as their pointed ears the vestigial insectoid wings on their backs, serve to identify them. Unlike the Alfari, their ears point outwards, not upwards. Their wings sometimes afford them the gift of flight, though this is rare. Fereni are quite long-lived, lasting 180 to 200 harvests. |  Vantyrae The Hollow The Tribe of Vantyrae is the only one to have completely departed from Irre during the Great Exodus. Despite being very scarce, the Vantyrae are widely seen as dangerous, on account of their strength and speed, as well as their dark hunger, for they require flesh and blood of living creatures to survive. Despite this savagery, Vantyrae society is quite formal and aristocratic. A Vantyr is about as tall as a Menash on average. Their flesh is very pale, and their hair will be an almost white golden or an intense shade of red, brown or black. Their bright red eyes give them away when they try to hide among the other tribes. Some of them also possess bat-like wings, along with the gift of flight. A Vantyr can technically live indefinitely, though murder or starvation inevitably cuts their life short. |  Enkala The Luminous The Tribe of Enkala is the very youngest of the Six Tribes, and the only one not to have originally emerged from the underworld, instead arriving to the Blessed Realm alongside the Nine Flames of Anung. They are quite rare, both in Irre and in the Faram Anur, tending to join the societies of the other races rather than form their own, and their natural beauty and charisma helps with that. An Enkal, whether male or female, will generally stand at about 6 feet and 4 inches tall. Their flesh is chalk white, while their hair and eyes tend towards darker colors. Enkala possess silvery crystal halos that crown their heads, which glow softly with ethereal light. This, along with the large feathery wings on their back, which endow them with the gift of flight, makes them unmistakable among the Six Tribes. Enkala are among the most longeval races on Anur, living up to 500 harvests. |
The Far Ones The Six Tribes arrived at the Promised Isles after the Great Exodus, but they were not the only ones to inhabit them, nor the first. Four other races had settled the archipelago long ago, and though their meeting was largely peaceful, tensions between the two groups reach high at times. These four races that were the sole sovereigns of the Faram Anur before the Great Exodus are known as the Far Ones. |
 Madren The Enduring Upon arriving at the Abyssal Chain, the Menai were surprised to find a people not unlike their own, but culturally different and much better adapted to the lightless lands, resisting the cold and able to better see in the dark. The Madren are no less advanced than their counterparts from Irre, but their society revolves around warfare significantly more, owing to their conflicts with the Vilden. A Madir man or woman is about as tall as a Menash, but in contrast with them, their skin color is a pale pink or tan, while their eyes tend more towards darker shades. Much like the Menai as well, the Madren have no particular distinguishing features like the other races of Anur do. In general, they live about 60 to 80 harvests. |  Vilden The Indomitable The usual rivals of the Madren for the dominance of the Faram Anur, the Vilden are not a race, per se, but rather a collection of creatures evolved from various species of beasts originally hailing from the underworld that have developed a tight knit, diverse and complex culture around their shared wild heritage and their revelry in combat, among other things. As such, their height varies wildly, as does the color of their skin, fur and eyes, along with their usual lifespan, leaving little to be said about them as a whole. Despite the lack of unifying characteristics, usually when you come across a Vilde, you will be able to tell simply by looking at the various animalistic traits they present, including fur, antlers, trunks, claws and cloven hooves. |
 Sylven The Nourishing The guardians and preservers of the natural world in the Coldlight Archipelago, the Sylven are a race of plant-like men and women with a penchant for dwelling in groves and creating beautiful gardens. Peaceful in demeanor, they are nonetheless fierce when defending their lands. A Sylf, male or female, goes up to 6 feet and 6 inches in height, making them the tallest of the great races of Anur. The texture of their bodies varies between skin, pulp, bark and leaf, with foliage creating the illusion of hair on their heads. The colors of their appearance are most often split between greens, blues and oranges, with the occasional purples or browns in between. Much like the Fereni, the Sylven typically last 180 to 200 harvests. |  Shayit The Mischievous Self-absorbed and chaotic, the Shayit are the tricksters of the Promised Isles, content to wreak havoc, lead travelers astray or simply play innocuous tricks. Because of this, they have little interest in forming their own societies, though there are a few Shayit enclaves here and there in the mountains of the Faram Anur. A male Shay will stand at 5 feet and 10 inches on average, with 6 feet and 4 inches being the norm for female Shayit. Their skin color varies wildly, generally some dark shade of red, blue or green, with purple, pink or black being seen occasionally. Their hair color can be quite unusual as well, and their eyes have a glow of their own. The chaotic nature of the Shayit causes their lifespan to vary quite wildly, ranging from 50 harvests to a staggering 300. |
The Blessed Realm of Irre
The Sign of Rising was followed by the Great Strife, a thousand and one harvests where the world above was engulfed in an all-consuming war for control of the Skyfire. As city-states and petty kingdoms cannibalized each other much like the creatures and clans of old, greater states began to rise and fall, culminating in the formation of the original Nine Kingdoms. Strongest among these was the Vanna Tyrash Anur, the great Vantyrae Empire, ruthless and glorious. In response to its complete dominance over its opponents, the other tribes began to coalesce into blocs capable of stopping its advance. The three Great Mountain Kingdoms of Vothrall, Erethrum and Mythrasir allied themselves to fight for the Tribe of Dvarda. The Fereni and the Alfari formed Titania's Covenant in the deepest forests. And the Free Duchies of Ankh-Herazad saw the Menai of the plains and deserts unite in order to stave off annihilation. Amidst the apparently sempiternal stalemate that ensued, a deal was struck and the secret ceremony was performed by the Lords of the Nine Kingdoms, sundering the Skyfire into the Nine Flames of Anung. This, along with the sealing of the underworld, marked the end of the Great Strife.
With the end of the Great Strife came the Rule of Nine, the age that the peoples of Irre continue to live in, for there shall ever be Nine Kingdoms, controlled by the Nine Lords bound to the Nine Flames, and though these powerful, divine relics have changed hands on occasion, leading to the rise and fall of great empires, their number shall ever be nine. It was in the first century of the Rule of Nine that the True Skyfire was summoned to cast its holy light upon all of the Blessed Realm, and with its coming the Vanna Tyrash Anur collapsed, leaving its Flame and its treasures ripe for the picking. A few centuries later the Great Exodus would begin and the greatest of fleets would sail across the Ebony Sea towards salvation. But time in the Blessed Realm did not stand still, for there were many who remained behind, worshiping the Skyfire and the Nine Flames and their holders. The lands left by those who sailed beyond the horizon would be welcome holdings for those loyal to the Nine Lords, and history would continue moving, devouring the weak as it favored the strong.
But that is another story.
Stories of the Blessed Realm |
The Birth of Arcana  The knowledge unearthed by the Menai would eventually turn into the foundations of what is now known as Arcana, the eldritch disciplines. Under the guidance of the oldest and wisest of scholars and scientists in what is now known as the Free Duchies of Ankh-Herazad, the Menai created academies, guilds and ancient laboratories all across the dunes and plains for the furthering of their research and the development of new techniques to exploit the ever-growing gifts of knowledge. Alchemy, Sorcery, Divination, Spiritry, Convocation and other such arts are now known by many scholars across the world, but it is still known by all that the Menai are the true savants of those ancient mysteries, each holding the potential to become a master. |
The Curse of Depredation  It was only during the Great Strife, after the rise of the Vanna Tyrash Anur, that the peoples of Irre received an answer from the Vantyrae. As Emperor Midrash the First devoured a still-living Alfar champion in front of his troops, he explained to them the Curse of Depredation, that most ancient dark hunger that haunted and elevated his kind. Midrash spoke of how in antiquity the Vantyrae had suffered from widespread famine in the dark and turned on each other, feasting on their own kind to survive. In the heights of despair that the crisis brought, they found that they had not only gained sustenance, but also the strength of their victims. Their essences combined, the Vantyrae were greater beings than before, but their hunger only grew in turn. Far and wide across Irre, the tale of the despotic Vantyrae's dark hunger and the essence-devouring power that it brought struck fear into the hearts of people, ultimately leading to the stalemate between the Nine Kingdoms and the end of the Great Strife. |
The Soul of the Mountain  The purple standard clashed against the black and gold banner as the armies of Schehiran met the armies of Mythrasir on the field of battle, at the foothills of the mountain. Though the Dvarda had the advantage of higher ground and the better armor and weaponry, the creative use of Arcana allowed the Menai to overcome their foes, pushing the armies of Mythrasir higher and higher with each victory. Before long, the capital of the Mountain Kingdom was surrounded, and an all-out offensive was launched. The Dvarda fled into the tunnels, but the King Under the Mountain would not allow the purple standard to fly over the ramparts of Mythrasir. In anger he called to the mountain itself for aid, and the mountain did answer. As the Dvarda were led to safety, the invaders were faced with quakes, landslides and collapsing tunnels. Thousands died, leaving the armies of Schehiran crippled. In time, the foothills were reclaimed, a peace was negotiated, and the other races of Irre learned that to challenge the Dvarda in the mountains was folly. The King Under the Mountain taught his people, and those of the other Mountain Kingdoms, how to sense through the earth, read minerals and force stone itself to submit to their will. Such was the power of the tribe of the mountains. |
The Gift of Phantasmata  Of course, there were those who did not see kindly to this. The Alfari saw this as an affront to their rule and an unsanctioned advance upon their territory. The feuds between Alfari and Fereni were long and plentiful, and to this ley some of that ancient grudge remains, but there once came a time where all such petty concerns were set aside. During the Great Strife, the Vanna Tyrash Anur set its sights upon the deep woods and one of the land's mightiest armies marched upon them. As the Alfari rallied their forces to fight a doomed war, the High King of the Fereni made an offer: he would send his wisest advisor to stop the scourge of the Vantyrae. Should they succeed, then the Alfari would never dispute the ownership of Ferenhome again, and come to their aid if the Vantyrae were to ever return. Seeing this as a way to buy some time at worst, and at best a solution, the Alfari accepted. The High King's wisest advisor was, in fact, a young Feren by the name of Bakeen Valack, who led the Fereni's greatest warriors. But they did not fight the Vantyrae head on. What happened then is not well known, but the soldiers of the Vanna Tyrash Anur found that as they stepped into the forest, their minds seemed to play tricks on them. Soldiers became lost in the woods, or were frozen in place by frightening visions, or were tricked into firing arrows at each other by unseen hands. Regardless of whatever truly happened on that night, the advance of the Vantyrae was halted, and the Alfari held their end of the bargain. In gratitude, they formed Titania's Covenant with the Fereni, fighting as one against the Vanna Tyrash Anur and anyone else who dared threaten the woods. In time, rumors spread of a gift held by young Valack known as Phantasmata, the power to manipulate sense and sight, to create false truths and mirages. In time, all of Titania's brood would learn this art and become all the greater for it. |
The Song of the Wild  In desperation, they turned to their elders for guidance, and the elders would provide. In an act of what seemed to be mindless sacrifice, they went into the deepest of woods all by themselves, promising to find salvation within. At first the Alfari held fast to the hope they had placed on those old men and women, but then a harvest passed. Then another. Despair once more claimed the race of slender forest-dwellers, who could see only pain and suffering in their horizon. But five harvests after their departure, the elders returned to their people - four of them were dead, but one yet lived, and the creatures that followed in his wake seemed to obey his every command. The elder said that, on the verge of giving in to hunger and despair, he had found enlightenment where the others had found only death, and taught his people to commune with the beasts of the wild through song, serene and ethereal. With the aid of the beasts, the Alfari reclaimed their forests and the surrounding territories, and became a force to be reckoned with in the land of Irre. Their bond with nature was made manifest and set in stone through that ancient pact made between man and beast, signed with the blood of the elders and the fading dreamlike notes of a long forgotten song. |
The Blessing of Firelight  In time, the pious Enkala found their place as advisors, leaders and spiritual guides all across the Blessed Realm. Everywhere but in the Vanna Tyrash Anur, that is, for the Vantyrae saw that the Enkala had the gift of flight and had grown jealous. They began hunting down the tribe of the sky, using their dark curse so that they may absorb the essence of the Enkala and take the gift of flight for themselves. It was a dark time for them, but the Enkala had seen that while the other kingdoms of Irre displayed their ownership of their Flames proudly, the emperor of the Vanna Tyrash Anur kept it hidden, for his people could not stand the touch of such pure firelight for long. In retaliation, the winged ones sought advice from the flames themselves, and learned of another rite, the Summoning Ceremony. The Nine Brides and their children gathered in the place where the Skyfire had once stood and performed a sacrifice in order to appeal to something that slumbered far beyond the sky itself. In response to the suffering pleas of the children of the sky, another Skyfire, a True Skyfire, appeared on the horizon, far above the land where no mortal could reach it. The presence of the True Skyfire and the firelight that it cast upon all of Irre led to the near immediate collapse of the Vanna Tyrash Anur and drove the surviving Vantyrae to hide away in the dark corners of the world, unable to return to the world below that had been sealed away, but unable to take to the skies with their new gift or live in the world of the surface. In time this would lead them to plan the Great Exodus, where they would be joined by all those discontent with the tyranny of the Nine Flames. The Flame belonging to the Vanna Tyrash Anur was claimed by the Enkala, who gifted it to the Fereni so that their rule would be no less legitimate than that of the Alfari. And lastly, those Enkala that yet lived after the hunting of their kind and the sacrifice during the Summoning Ceremony found themselves changed, endowed with the ability to manipulate firelight like no other race on the face of Anur could. Thus endowed, the tribe of the sky would never again fear oppression, for the SKyfire itself now stood with them. |
The Far Land and the Underworld
The land that the Six Tribes arrived in at the end of the Great Exodus is known by many names. To the Six Tribes, immigrants from the land of Irre, it is known officially as the Coldlight Archipelago, so called for the gentle azure glow of the flora of the isle of Veraden, fundamentally different from the radiant firelight, which guided the wayward sons and daughters of the Blessed Realm to safe port. However, it is also known by the Alfari and Fereni of the woodlands as the Faram Anur, or Far Land in the ancient language, after old myths born during the early Sign of Rising regarding a distant shore, out of reach of the wicked, where the land was lush and the shining forests were free from the rule of beasts. The Vantyrae call this region the Promised Isles, as they represented a safe haven free from the tyranny of the True Skyfire, where they could stand outside of the shade and their winged kin could stretch their wings and take to the skies again. And the Far Ones, original inhabitants of the Far Land, know it as the Abyssal Chain, as the Sylven originally rose up from the depths of the earth only to find that their new home was suspended above a dark, watery abyss that would later be known as the Ebony Sea.
The Far Land, unlike Irre, is a place where firelight does not stream down from the sky. There is no Skyfire to pierce through the darkness, leaving the isles a sunless place. The dark environs are lit up only by the firelight produced by the dwellers of the land and by the coldlight emitted by the bioluminescent flora of the isles. Strange creatures abound in the dark corners of the earth, but by and large, civilization has flourished, first by the hand of the Far Ones, who were later joined by the wanderers of the Six Tribes. Though there are tensions across the land, amidst the Far Ones, in the ranks of the Six Tribes and between the two groups of races, a relative peace rules over the land. Though localized conflicts are not infrequent, there is nothing quite on the scale of the Great Strife that tore apart the land of Irre thousands of harvests ago. Kingdoms rise and fall, but history marches on.
The history of the Coldlight Archipelago is, much like that of the Blessed Realm of Irre, long and bloody, it is in a sense not quite as eventful as that of its sister continent. There was no Descending, no Skyfire, no Sundering Ceremony. The dwellers of the dark found their way to the surface on their own, wandering through the winding tunnel systems that connect the Promised Isles to the underworld. First of these were the Sylven, ancient keepers of lore and shepherds of the Far Land, who nourished the surface and rendered it suitable to play host to the civilizations to come. Next were the Vilden and the Madren, ancient rivals whose conflicts poured out onto the surface as they arrived. Last of all came the Shayit, beings of earthen blood and firelight who are rumored to have extensive civilizations underground, but whose presence on the surface is scarce. The four races populated the isles, each more or less claiming a quarter of the region for themselves and quarreling over territories or keeping to themselves in the millennia to come. Then the Great Exodus occurred, and the children of Irre arrived. Thousands of harvests have passed since then.
Though there is no cycle in the sky to aid in the tracking of time, the Sylven long ago developed a method of timekeeping that is prevalent to this ley in the Coldlight Archipelago. A light-cycle or ley consists of four quarters during which the light conditions of the isles change according to certain phenomena. During the first quarter or waking, the isles are dark save for the faint azure and verdant light of the flora that can be found all across the archipelago. As the next quarter, or striding, rolls around, the isles are bathed in a dim blue glow that seems to originate from everywhere in the sky at once, a gentle light that does not burn or blind but dims the shadows of the darkened land; in addition, the bioluminescent flora seems to reach a greater brightness at this time of the ley. The third quarter, tempering, is more or less equal to the waking, but leads into the fourth quarter, slumbering, during which the wildlife closes off and there is no light to be seen naturally in all of the archipelago. After the slumbering, the light-cycle repeats itself and the next ley begins with the waking. Each quarter consists of six hours, making leys twenty-four hours long. Approximately every thirty leys a thick fog envelops the entire isles only to fade away after a few hours, a phenomenon known as the blanketing; subsequently, thirty-ley cycles are known as blanks. Ten blanks make a harvest, as it is how long it takes for the Sylven crop cycles to reach their conclusion. A hundred harvests make a century, and ten centuries are a millennium.
Perhaps one of the most notable things about the underworld beneath the Promised Isles is that it is absolutely ridden with the ruins of mortal kingdoms and ancient civilizations that met an untimely end or received nature's swift and sudden condemnation. Abandoned castles, lost cities, solitary spires and silent necropoles can all be found if one ventures into the darkness under earth and sea. In fact, one of the most mysterious and feared phenomena known in the Far Land is that known as reclamation, wherein the earth would exert an alien will of its own and split open to swallow palaces, cities and even kingdoms, letting them sink to lakes of earthen blood or the bottom of enormous chasms, or burying them under soil and stone. No one knows the truth behind this dreaded reckoning, and many powerful lords live in constant fear of being the next to face the wrath of the earth. In truth, when the weight of the blood shed upon the land by a tyrant or the regrets left behind by the people who have passed grows too great, the world intervenes, taking the offending realm unto itself to cleanse the land. But such things are not for mortals to know.
To the North lies CYRNA, THE THUNDERING ISLE, so named after the frequent thunderstorms that assault the place. This phenomenon is not tied to the forces of nature or some ancient curse that befalls the small isle, but rather the result of the frequent arcane experimentation that takes place on the isle, as it is the home of the Consortium, an academic community that stands as the spiritual successor of the ancient Menai universities of the old world, where people of all races and walks of life are welcomed to initiate themselves into the study of Arcana. Though many flock to the isle for this reason, few remain, as the environment seems hostile to those who aren't yet apprentices of the eldritch disciplines. Be that as it may, everyone holds the Consortium in high regard for the impressive stock of magical artifacts and archived tomes of knowledge it has accrued over the harvests.
Northeast is HARUSH, THE YEARNING ISLE, known as such for the dozens of jagged peaks that rise up into the horizon, as if yearning for the sky. Harush is a hostile environment, full of rugged terrain and flowing rivers of earthen blood. But the Dvarda have made their home here, carving mines deep in the mountains to gather the riches of the underground, often joined by Madren, Menai and the occasional Vantyr. The Shayit are also most frequently seen here, as this is the environment where they are most comfortable, and it is rumored that the mythical kingdom of the Shayit lies somewhere underneath Harush. Though the tension between the Shayit and the other inhabitants of the isles is high, the city of Avernus, erected above the Boiling Lake, serves as a neutral zone of sorts where the various races of the area, as well as any visitors, are allowed to trade and mingle freely.
To the Southeast one can find TERADEN, THE SUNDERED ISLE, which is split into two by the great river Letharion, thus earning it its name. The Sundered Isle is home to the Vilden League, a community of beastly folk of all sorts which have settled the lush forests of Teraden. In the center of the isle, spread across both sides of the Letharion, is the city of Bridgeby, an important terrestrial and maritime trade hub in the area which is inhabited primarily by Menai, Vilden and Alfari. In the southeastern corner of Teraden is the formerly powerful Vantyr kingdom of Valroc, recently fallen into strife after a violent coup, which in the past could trace the lineage of its rulers back to Midrash the Great of the Vanna Tyrash Anur.
In the True South, there is SIDERAT, THE SHIVERING ISLE, almost completely uninhabited. The only settlement on the isle is the lonely seaside town of Enkelion, sole enclave of the tribe of the sky in the Far Land. Built by the Enkala to be a safe haven for their kind, the town subsists off of farming, fishing and trade with the nearby Bridgeby. Ironically the Shivering Isle is widely regarded as one of the most dangerous places to be in the whole archipelago, as further inland is an enormous cavern widely rumored to be the hideout of a dangerous group of bandits, the lair of an unseen beast, or quite simply cursed for the ages. None who have ever ventured nearby have returned, earning the isle its grisly reputation.
To the Southwest lies VERADEN, THE LUMINOUS ISLE, ancestral home and cherished land of the Sylven, which they began to share with the Alfari, the Fereni and the Enkala after their arrival at the end of the Great Exodus. The isle is for the most part peaceful, covered in lush vegetation which bathes the isle in coldlight, earning it its name. The isle is home to the most sacred location of the Sylven, the Illumina Forest, which holds the largest collection of luminescent flowers in all of the Promised Isles and is widely regarded to be one of the most beautiful sights in the region. The underground retreat of Arboris can also be found here, the sacred waters of its myriad lakes rumored to possess healing properties.
Finally, to the Northwest is TREGAL, THE SERENE ISLE, called such by the thick blanket of snow that covers the isle harvest-round, giving it the appearance of a serene white land. Despite its moniker however, Tregal is anything but peaceful. It is home to the great strongholds of the Madren, who are frequently at war with the Vilden that have made their home in the boreal forests in the northern part of the isle. As such, the pristine white snow of the isle is often stained with blood. Tregal is one of the more inhospitable isles in the Faram Anur, but even then, some of the hardier folk of the Six Tribes have managed to make an abode for themselves on the snowy plains and peaks, such as the Dvarda and the Vantyrae.
Stories of the Far Land |
The Omen of War  There was once a time when the Madren were nearly wiped out. Not by their beastly foes, but by a pack of monsters risen from the depths of the underworld which threatened to consume their entire civilization before they set their sights on the rest of the isles. Though by no means weak, the Madren were not yet truly enlightened in the art of combat as they were now, and lacked the power to fight back against these creatures. But before the final blow could be dealt against them, a mysterious figure arrived, a warrior priestess known as Sigrun, who taught them how to fight back. She decreed that no Madren warrior would be caught without their weapon, and they learned to bond with their chosen arms and summon them in times of need. She declared that their steel would have no paragon, and thenceforth they learned to create such precious and powerful weapons that not even the finest Dvar blacksmith could replicate them. With these newfound gifts, the Madren drove back the monsters and rebuilt their towers and halls. Sigrun's name faded into legend, but the teachings she imparted upon the Madren have never been forgotten since. |
The Mirage of Brimstone  One ley, a wandering Madir revealed to the Dvarda that this was not the result of a curse, or the attack of monsters, or even the action of toxic fumes from the depths. It was, in fact, the work of the Shayit, the dwellers of the underworld. For as long as the Far Ones had lived on the surface of the Abyssal Chain, most people with any sense or instinct of self-preservation had steered clear from the isle of Harush due to the tales told of the horned folk, who could manipulate the desires of mortals or drum up their deepest fears and manifest them in vile mirages that boggled the mind. He furthermore relayed that he had once conversed with an elderly Shay woman, who had told him that her people had learned these tricks from the Boiling Lake itself. In the millennia that followed, Shayit became a more common sight, though their reputation as mischievous tricksters remained. |
The Law of Howling  Some of the travelers that observed the bloodbath from a distance later returned to the safety of Veraden, primarily the Alfari. Upon questioning their Sylven benefactors about those fearsome shapeshifting warriors, the green folk of the groves spoke to them about the history of the Vilden. They were not, like the Six Tribes or the other Far Ones, a singular race - rather, they were the survivors of several different broods of creatures that had banded together in the darkness of the underworld to survive from whatever it was that had wiped out their corresponding kin, be they monsters, disease, disaster or simple hunger. And it was in the lightless bowels of the earth itself that they communed with the creatures of the deep, receiving in turn the revelation of the strength hidden within their beastly blood. With this newfound power, the Vilden banded together for the survival of their kind. Bound together by the law they found in the depths, the Vilden continue even now to carve a space for themselves in Anur. |
The Bounty of Life  In the long harvests that followed, many would ask how the Sylven were able to create such a lush haven, and how it hadn't been attacked by the other civilizations on the isles. The Sylven would always respond the same way, telling the story of how their ancestors cared deeply for the flora and fauna, first of the underground forests where they dwelt, and then of the forests they created on the surface. Such devotion eventually yielded an unexpected reward as the wildlife revealed hidden secrets to the shepherds of the isles. The Sylven learned how to bestow vitality upon living creatures and even tamper with flesh and root alike. This allowed them to create the beautiful groves and gardens of Veraden, as well as lurking beasts and deadly traps to be set upon intruders should the sacred forests be desecrated. It is thus that the isle has remained protected for so long. The gifts of mother nature have continued to serve the Sylven well since then, and their sacred retreats have been kept pristine. |
Hey! If you've gotten to this point, that means you're almost there! You've already gotten through all of the heavy worldbuilding and lore I've included in this project. Up next are only a few clarifications, out of character considerations, and requisites for participating in this project, along with some examples. They'll be included in the next post, as this one's gotten too big for NS. See you at the end!
