Evernia Part 1: The Elves and the Dwarves

Elves and Dwarves, Dwarves and Elves.  Evernia.

Most of the Southern Mountains rise up close to the Sea of Storms, sheltering Nerath and the Thousand Kingdoms from the Sea of Storms.  Evernia, on the very eastern end of the Southern Mountains, is the exception to this rule - a large land of rainforest and rivers on the south side of the Great Mountains.

Evernia is dominated by the World Tree.  This massive tree towers above the rest of the rainforest, often looking more like a small, greenery-covered mountain than a tree.  It is old beyond measure, scarred with burns from ages past, and with a root system that stretches throughout Evernia.

It also is, according to legend, the origin of all elves and the source of all nature magic.

The World Tree shelters Evernia from the worst of the Sea of Storms, and on its massive boughs the elves once grew the Nine Cities of the World Tree, which eventually joined to become Evernia City.

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Long ago, when the Elves had recently emerged from the World Tree and were growing the Nine Cities, the World Tree let them know it was under organized attack.  The leaves whispered of an army of blades, and the branched creaked with the marching of metal-shod boots.

The elves ventured down from the World Tree and looked for this menace, but while they scoured Evernia from the sea to the mountains, they found no army.  They climbed the mountain and explored the plains of what would eventually become Nerath, and even set sail over the Tranquil Sea to explore the land beyond - the land that would eventually become the Thousand Kingdoms.  The threat, however, was never found.

After the Nine Cities were well established, many elves who did not want to live in the cities ventured down into the forests, creating small villages in the canopies of the (relatively) lesser trees of the rainforest.  While most of the forest grew on the roots of the World Tree, the forests also extended up the south side of the Great Mountain, enjoying the plentiful sunside on the southern slopes.

Here the ground was dirt over stone, rather than over the World Tree's roots, and once settled, the Elves observed that they were not alone.  During the night, short creatures would emerge from the ground, cut the trunks of trees away from the trees' roots, and carry those trunks into their holes.

Their curiosity piqued, the Elves met some of these short creatures, and eventually befriended what they called "Dwarves".  In time, the Elves learned that the Dwarves lived throughout the Southern Mountains, digging out great halls or rediscovering those of centuries past.

The Dwarves taught the Elves the secrets of metalcraft, and the Elves taught the Dwarves the secrets of magic.

Things were good, for a time.

Yet this time of harmony inevitably came to an end: As the Elves learned just how extensive the dwarven tunnels were, they realized that the army attacking the World Tree was doing so from below - generations of dwarves had been mining the roots of the world tree for wood.

Other trees came and went, but the World Tree was sacred, it was the origin of Elves, their protector, and the source of their life and magic, all in one.  This was sacrilege.

And so the elves waged war on the Dwarves, using their magic and their new steel weapons.  The Dwarves defended themselves, using their steel and their new magical knowledge.

But more than the skill, tools, or numbers of the combatants, the war was decided by battleground - the Elves could never conquer or keep any of the underground dwarven outposts, any more than the Dwarves could occupy the arboreal villages and towns of the elves.  Moreover, the Elves never were able to conquer a single dwarven hall, and the Dwarves never so much as set foot in the Nine Cities.

Eventually the conflict reached a stalemate, and the elves, realizing their vengeance on behalf of the World Tree would never be complete, instead offered a peace treaty to the Dwarves - never touch the roots of the World Tree again, and we will forgive your past transgressions.

The dwarven halls, one by one, eventually accepted the peace treaty.  In time, additional treaties were made: Elves would be allowed in the Dwarven Halls beneath Evernia and allowed to monitor the World Tree's roots in exchange for a continuous supply of wood. Dwarves were given free access to the Nine Cities in exchange for building fortresses on the Southern Mountains to protect  Evernia against the human tribesmen in the north.  Elves taught the Dwarves the secrets of boat-building in exchange for a cut of any dwarven crafts sold overseas  (though this turned out to be fiasco, as dwarves became notorious for sea-sickness).  Dwarves built tunnels linking the Elves in Evernia with their brethren in forests far away, in exchange for elvish help altering their native fungus to produce usable wood and light.

As the centuries past by, the Elves and the Dwarves grew closer and closer.  The Nine Cities connected themselves, and the new Evernia City was home to countless elves and dwarves.  Similarly, the dwarven metropolis of Roothome, directly beneath Evernia City, became host to a mixed population of elves and dwarves.

Things were good, for a time.

Of course, the human tribesmen to the north, living on the mountains and the plains, did not stay tribesmen forever.  While the elves and the dwarves enjoyed their harmony, the humans built an empire to the sun god on the backs of elephants: Nerath.

(Part 1 of 2)

Saint Orianna and Tieflings

The blood sacrifice of the Nerathi Emperor by his children was an event that brought a new race into the world: Tieflings.  Not a true race, but humans warped by a demonic pact, the souls of their entire bloodline sold for an alliance too foul for words.

While many tieflings were changed by their own choices, including the Nerathi Imperial Family and those who became tieflings in separate pacts, the pacts were enacted through bloodline, not per soul.  In the initial pact, not only did the Imperial Family become tieflings, but so did every bastard who had Imperial blood in them.

While the Royal Tieflings, as they were known, fought against Evernia and the Alliance, and were mostly wiped out by the awesome power of the dragons, the bastard sons and daughters scattered to the wind, overcome by changes they never asked for.

Most Tieflings today are the descendants of those bastards, though some Royal Tieflings survived (and given the longevity of the Imperial Family, potentially still survive), and some Tieflings are kin to lesser magistrates who performed similar pacts.

In the years since, it has been noted that the tiefling curse is spreading, after a fashion - any child of a tiefling, regardless of the other parent, is born a tiefling - it is not blood, like elves, half-elves, and humans, but rather a question of the dark contract: The entire bloodline, however attenuated, has its souls owned by the forces of hell.

Or so it was, until less than a century ago.

Orianna, as the story goes, was a holy cleric of Sol Almae who tried to exhort her fellow tieflings to do good acts.  She travelled from town to town, but all tieflings knew that no matter their actions in the world, their souls were damned to hell for eternity regardless.  And so the tieflings lived their lives for sin and pleasure, not unlike their Imperial ancestors.

Orianna, after great efforts, became frustrated with the unwillingness of her kin, and decided to seek out the root of the problem - the contract of the demonic pact itself.

She threw herself into hell with an old scroll of the Empire, and brought the burning light of Sol Invictus against the infinite legions of hell.  So strong was the power of the sun and so true her convictions that she was able to burn her way to the demonic contract, and through the power of Solis Incindia, she burned the scrolls to ash.

There is, alas, no way out of hell, and she remains trapped there, doing battle with the demonic host for eternity.

That is what the Church of Saint Orianna teaches.  That Orianna was a saint, and that she sacrificed herself so that the souls of all tieflings were free.  Free to go to heaven or hell, based on the actions and virtue of the tieflings themselves.

The Church of Saint Orianna asks Tieflings to do good in the world, to live good lives, and keep Orianna's sacrifice from being in vain.

In the world today, the Church of Saint Orianna is popular among the growing population of tieflings in Nerath, and is one of the main forces helping rebuild Nerath after the devastation of the Great War.  Smaller churches exist wherever Tieflings go, and are generally encouraged by the authorities to help keep tieflings out of trouble.

There are, of course, dissenting views - in particular, there are a variety of holes in the story the Church provides, and some people say that so-and-so knew Orianna, and she was not like that at all.  However, even those who criticize the Church's description of Orianna recognize that the Church of Orianna is a vitally needed force for good in Nerath.

(The Church of Saint Orianna is, of course, theologically related to the worship of Solaris.)

The History of Nerath and of the Great War

On one side of the Sea of Tranquility, north of the Southern Mountains, is the Republic of New Nerath.  It is a land stained by its history.

Over a hundred years ago, most of that continent was ruled by the Nerathi Empire.  It was an empire by humans for humans, and it grew from a small seed in the center of the continent to an mighty power forged with sorcery and steel.

At the Nerathi Empire's height, it ruled over the riverlands and the plains, from the Sea of Tranquility to the Necklace in the East.  After a series of unsuccessful wars with Evernia, its southern neighbor, the Empire turned its sights across the Sea of Tranquility to the Thousand Kingdoms.

The Thousand Kingdoms, while individually hardened by centuries of strife, lacked any collective response to the Imperial invasion, and within a few years, Nerath had obliterated the coastal kingdoms, and colonized several cities along the shore.

As they pushed inwards, however, the Thousand Kingdoms formed a desperate Alliance, and drove the Nerathi forces back to their coastal strongholds.  There the Nerathi held, besieged on land, but freely resupplied by the Imperial Navy.  In time, the Alliance's forces melted away, returning to their own lands.

Realizing that Nerath could well mount a fresh attack if the Thousand  Kingdoms remained disjoined, the leaders of the Alliance undertook the journey to the Storm Isles, and signed a treaty under the watchful gaze of Leximundi herself, the demigod of Law.

They returned with an  agreement that if Nerathi forces ever passed a day's march beyond their current cities, the entirety of the Thousand Kingdoms would rise up in campaign for a year.  This lead to the Second and Third Nerathi Wars, both of which left Nerath with only its colonial cities.  Those cities grew rich with trade, but not was not enough for Nerath.

Unable to expand into the Thousand Kingdoms or Evernia, the Nerathi Empire lost its momentum and turned inwards.  A series of uprisings were successfully suppressed by the ageless Imperial Family, but this showed their vulnerability.  Their subjects could not be trusted...

...and so the Imperial Family found a new source of power.

The Emperor was assassinated by his own family, sacrificed to dark spirits, and the Imperial Family sold the souls of its entire bloodline for raw demonic power, and a treaty with the netherworld forces.

(The bloodline, of course, was by no means restricted to the Imperial Family itself - as could be said by many a royal house, the Imperial Family left no shortage of bastards throughout the Empire, and all of these were transformed by the Infernal Pact as well.)

Those affected by the pact had their bodies warped into something no longer human, becoming the first Tieflings.

Once again, the Empire was engulfed in turmoil, as local magistrates either sold their souls and the souls of their family, or were deemed disloyal to the new ways and forcibly put down.  Soon, there were those with Power, and those without.

The rest of the world watched in horror and trepidation during this infernal orgy of blood and  sacrifice.  Evernia strengthened its borders, while the colonists on the other side of the Sea of Tranquility disavowed their former kinfolk, and sought common cause with the Thousand Kingdoms.

War started again with the Nerathi Empire turning its newfound power against Evernia, smashing Evernia's mountain defenses, and waging war deep within the heartlands of Evernia itself like never before, steadily gaining ground, steadily sacrificing the citizenry of Evernia to the darkest of powers.

The colonial cities renamed themselves "The Pure Cities" to differentiate themselves from the Nerathi Empire, and opened their coffers to buy mercenaries from the Thousand Kingdoms.  The largest single fighting force in recorded history set sail from the Pure Cities, and opened a second front, attacking the heartlands of the Empire in a bid to deprive Nerath of food.

What they found, however, horrified them - the rich fields and riverlands of Nerath were tainted and poisoned.  Corpses rotted in the fields while stray demons preyed on the surviving peasantry.  Even the sky was the wrong color, and soldiers reported seeing frightful faces twisting into existence overhead.

By this point Evernia had been pushed back to the Sisters: Evernia City and Roothome, its two capital cities.  Overcrowded with refugees, the Sisters could not survive a siege for any amount of time, assuming they survived the initial assault at all.

Instead, the High Lords of Evernia, elven and dwarven, cast a mighty spell that froze the two capital cities of Evernia in time.

Cheated of their prize, the demonic armies of Nerath pushed back north and fought the Purity Alliance.  In a massive battle that lasted for days, the two mightiest armies in recorded history spilled so much blood that sailors on the Sea of Tranquility reported the sea itself turning red, a current that stretched  from the shores of Nerath to the Teeth and beyond.

Maybe it was the tainted blood flowing south to the Isles.  Maybe it was the diplomatic connections made by the Alliance during their visit to Leximundi.  Maybe it was that the dragons saw in Nerath a threat that they could not abide.

Accounts speak of the sky darkening with dragons, of lightning and of fire, and of storms on the Sea of Tranquility.

In the end, the dragons burned their way from the coast to the capital of the empire, and then onwards to the demonic Nerathi army.  The result was the two hundred league long Dragonscar, a thousand demons sealed by draconic magic throughout the land, and the utter obliteration of the Imperial Family and those who had gathered around it.

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Since then, Nerath has been in a slow process of recovery.  Most of Nerath has returned to normal, particularly now with the help of the templars of Saint Orianna, but the Nerathi have not regained anything close to their former glory.  Even the geography has not recovered - the Dragonscar and the Swamp of Souls are the two  most obvious blights, but many other areas were permanently transformed during the dark days of the Great War.

Nerath is now theoretically ruled by the Republic of New Nerath, originally a puppet government created by the Pure Cities after the war, and now the only organized governance over most of Nerath.  The Republic benefits from its trade with the Pure Cities and Evernia, but is prevented by its constitution from building the armies necessary to assert control over all of Nerath.

Nerathi was once dominated by humans, but after the Great War, many of the humans perished.  Between the creation of the Tieflings by the Infernal Pact and the post-war influx of non-humans from the Thousand Kingdoms, less than half of Nerath's population is human.  But perhaps this is for the better - the world has seen the unrestrained ambition of humans once, and once was more than enough.

The Star of the Seasons

In the sky, there are the five Travelers.  They are stars, that, for reasons best known to themselves, do not stay in a steady position relative the the rest of the stars.

Of the five Travelers, many take irregular routes, but the best known one is the Star of the Seasons, which does nothing more complicated than circle the world.

It is known as the Star of the Seasons  because where it is relative to the sun determines the season.

During Winter, it is positioned between the world and the sun, even going so far as to meet the Sun in the sky during midwinter.

During Summer, it is position opposite of the  Sun, and blazes the brightest.

During Spring and Autumn, the Star of the Seasons near the dawn or near Sunset.

On a theological level, the Star of the Seasons is the patron of time, of the calendar, and, in some cultures, the patron of crops.

The Floating Continent

The Floating Continent is exactly what it sounds like - a continent, roughly circular, floating over a league in the air.  It is cold and desolate, with windswept plains, and frigid rivers and lakes.

The Floating Continent flies erratically throughout the sky, though it tends to remain at least somewhat close to the axis of the world.  It is believed to be over 200 leagues in diameter, judging by its shadow - few people have attempted to map the continent from end to end, and none of them have returned.

Civilization on the Floating Continent barely exists.  Aside from the difficulty of actually reaching the floating continent, due to the erratic motion of the continent, supplying a colony on a regular basis is difficult, let alone gaining anything from trade.  Other difficulties also exist: The erratic motion occasionally leads to cold nights for weeks on end, or long, blazing days that wither the crops as much as they burn the skin.

To make matters worse, most mortal races suffer from a lingering curse on the Floating Continent - nausea and vomiting are not uncommon upon reaching the Floating Continent, and even after a recovery from that, most colonists find themselves beset by a constant lethargy.

Despite all of this, some colonies have persisted in surviving, mostly by being entirely self-sufficient.  These include a number of monasteries and religious retreats, and a few colonies that cling to life, some outlasting the states that spawned them.  Much more numerous, however, are the ruins of failed settlements, wiped out decades ago with no-one at all the wiser.

Of those explorers who do survive and spend word back to the surface, there are stories of mythical monsters and colossal bones littering the landscape.  Rumors that the gods live upon the floating continent in a golden city have, however, remained just that.

Scholars have a pretty good idea of where the Floating Continent was before it lifted into the sky - on one side of the isthmus between the two main continents, the coasts of both continents describe arcs that match closely with the Floating Continent, to the point that some scholars wish to rename the Sea of Tranquility to something related to the Floating Continent.

To most people, the main effect of the Floating Continent is that it occasionally blocks the light of the sun for about a day or so as it passes overhead.

The Wandering God

The Wandering God is an entity that, for whatever  inscrutable reason, wanders the roads of Aeyona in disguise.  It has worn many faces, and has been recognized while pretending to be many types of traveller, from pilgrim to beggar to merchant to travelling prince.

While the Wandering God can look like any traveler, what allows the Wandering God to be recognized is that is consistently uses its magic and power to reward those who are good to it, and punish those who mistreat it, generally in proportion to the kindness or mistreatment in question.

There are stories of famine-stricken farmers sharing their last food with a stranger, only to awaken the next day to their fields full of ripe crops.There is the story of a nobleman being late to the king's ball on account of helping a peasant whose wagon had broken down, and thus avoiding the bloody coup taking place at the ball. There is the story of a prejudiced innkeeper refusing to rent a room to a tiefling, only to have his children transformed into tieflings.  There is the story of the travelers who were set upon by an owlbear - one tried to distract it to spare the others, and when the owlbear caught her, instead of eating her, it carried her to a hidden stash of long-forgotten treasure.

And there are many other stories in the same vein.   Some may be fictional, some are verified as true.  Some might be happenstance, others definitely involved miracles.  People interpret the stories differently, but almost everyone agrees that the Wandering God exists, regardless of which stories actually involved it making an appearance.

While temples to the Wandering God are rare in  cities, on roads and the wilderness there are many wayshrines, each one providing shelter for settlers, and often containing donated items to help the desperate and needy.  The wayshrines range from a small cave neatened to drain better, to huts of mud and thatch, to even structures of carved stone.

It is considered good luck to leave a shrine better than you found it, and bad luck to take something from a shrine that you do not truly need.  Similarly, it is considered extremely unwise to prevent someone from taking shelter in in a wayshrine, to hurt or rob someone in a wayshrine, or to impede their journey forth from wayshrine.  To do so would invoke the wrath of the Wandering God, and the next traveler met may well be your last.

The Wandering God is venerated by travelers as a patron of good fortune, hospitality, and safe travels.  Those involved in the hospitality industry, such as innkeepers, generally have at least some token venerating the Wandering God, if mostly to encourage traffic.

Bandits have a superstitious dread of angering the Wandering God, and most comfort themselves by assorted practices - always leaving those they rob with enough to continue the journey, being polite and courteous, never making the first violent move, helping whoever is seen having trouble on the road, or whatever makes themselves comfortable with their choice of vocation.

Whether or not they are specifically concerned with the entity, just about everyone has respect for the power of the Wandering God.

The Storm Isles

Far to the south, uncomfortably close to the Boiling Sea, are the Storm Isles: A series of highly volcanic islands drenched in constant rainfall and frequent hurricanes. Two gods inhabit these islands: The Great Dragon-god of Earth and The Great Dragon-god of Sky, along with their plentiful demigod children, the dragons that are the children of those demigods, and, of course, the Dragonborn themselves, the humanoid mortal creations of those powers.

The lands themselves are rich in a surprising amount of tenacious plant-life. The constant rain and volcanic ash provide nutrients both for a well-rooted trees and forests of seaweed, which in turn provide the environment for other local creatures. The local populations consumes large amounts of seafood (fish, whales, seaweed), and consider land-based food something of a delicacy, one well worth trading for.

The dragonborn constitute the majority of the island population, mostly living in cities carved into the sides of volcanic overhangs. This protects their cities from the worse of the erosive effects of rainfall, and protects them from the frequent lava flows. The dragons themselves are also said to use volcanic caves, though some rumors say that the children of the Great Dragon-god of Earth have been seen erupting out of the volcanoes themselves.

The Storm Isles are famed for their ceramic production, both in terms of artwork, but also in larger, more practical pieces, including high-end armor and weapons, along with certain types of work tools. Glassworking is another specialty, with the dragonborn famed for creating larger, clearer, stronger panes of glass than anyone else in the known world.

Trade with the Storm Isles is perilous but rewarding. Human traders use specially crafted ‘turtleboats’, and ride the currents down to the islands. The trip back is trickier, but is made directly north from the center of the islands, where the currents pulling into the Boiling Sea are at their weakest - the turtleboats put up their stubby fins and ride the winds back north. Neither passage is particularly pleasant, as in addition to the storms, the turtleboats seal all their occupants inside for over a week.

Most travelers balk at the journey, but outside of trade, the Isles provide an unique opportunity to talk with the reclusive and civilized metallic dragons, whose incredible longevity provides a window into the past, and a way to leave messages for the distant future. Many treaties are often read to the dragons, to avoid confusion hundreds of years down the road, and sometimes entire diplomatic meetings will unfold under the watchful eye of the metallic dragons, or even before Leximundi herself, the golden demigod of laws and agreements.

Orientation

Hello everyone!

This is the blog for the  Aeyona setting.  Sort of a catch-all place for putting all the bits and pieces of the setting.