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.
Thursday, June 30, 2016
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 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.
Monday, June 27, 2016
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.
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.
Tuesday, June 21, 2016
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 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.
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.
This is the blog for the Aeyona setting. Sort of a catch-all place for putting all the bits and pieces of the setting.
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