Post by ThreeDawg on May 8, 2015 11:21:15 GMT -5
((Quick edit: most recent iteration of map oi57.tinypic.com/juclg0.jpg it's still quite old. Need to move provinces about))
The Northlands:
- The Coalition of the North:
- {The Kingdom of Svarjhold.}
- SMALL ISLAND NORTH OF SVARJHOLD = NAME/CREATE
- SMALL ISLANDS WEST OF HJINGARD = NAME/CREATE
- SMALL ISLAND NORTH OF BARATHIA = NAME/CREATE
- SMALL ISLAND NORTH OF ------ = NAME/CREATE
- SMALL ISLAND NORTH OF ------ = NAME/CREATE
- SMALL ISLAND SOUTH OF MERNAUSTADT = NAME/CREATE
- {The Freeholds of Aleksland.}
- {Atannar.}
- {Gortland = CREATE/TURN INTO PROVINCE.}
- {Hjingard.}
Hjingard is a province dominated by a seasonal tundra. Winter months are harsh and unforgiving, but warm winds bring heat and in the summer months, melting snows on the eastern Fjinngaar Mountains into fast flowing rivers that reach out to the sea. These rivers and winter melt combine with the relatively warm weather to create farmland that can grow hardy crops.
While the farmlands can support grains, they grow short and are unprofitable as a food crop. Instead a regional crop, the Hoar - named for its greyish white colour - is grown. Hoar makes the most of the minerals brought down from the Fjingaars, growing quick starchy nodules that are exposed to the warmth of summer. The crop hardens with age, growing late and dense with sugars that cause it to hang low. It is at this point Hoar is harvested, although a few fruits are always left on the plant. Late in the season, the Hoar fruit turns golden and if opened reveal a cache of seeds that are extremely poisonous for consumption by most races. Gold Hoar, as this form is called, is left in the field to drop to ground where it will be buried in winter snow and form the next harvest.
Fields exist specifically for Gold Hoar. The seeds are pulled away and the lightly poisonous fruit is distilled for up to two years to form a commonly drunk and very strong alcoholic beverage known as Hoar Frost.
Pastures of hardy cattle can exist year round, although regular migrations to warmer southern plains, to the river regions kept relatively clear of snow or down to drier coastal areas are often necessary.
Forests of vibrant evergreens exist along the mountain slopes, where water flows year-round into semi-frozen glacial lakes. Natural reservoirs that are the source of the summer rapids during the melt. The water keeps the ground soft, for the most part, and trees keep the snow from the ground. So called Bvarjmen exist up in these mountains, bands of tribal warriors distantly related to the Svarjholders to the north, Bannorn to the south and the lowland Hjinborn. - {The Citadel Islands of Al Zafir.}
- Al Zafir Island - The Larger of the Two Islands:
A Cartographers nightmare, the Island of Al Zafir is the property of one of the world's largest guilds of Magi. They share the name of their island and are known as the Zafi. These islands are exceptionally hard to find, often not appearing where they should on the map - the flicker out of existence regularly at night, only to appear somewhere close by. The first test of the Zafi is finding the islands.
The islands themselves are cold and unforgiving, extinct volcanic slopes that taper down into lowlands. Heavy snow falls smother all life in the winter, only for it to spring up again when the shows partially melt in summer. Temperatures remain cold year round, and snows are common even in summer. At least, that is what most people see.
In truth, the islands of Al Zafir exist partially out of phase with this world. The real world islands are empty, save animals and plants, with but ruins of ancient Al Zafir City at the base of an inactive Volcano on the larger island (Named specifically Al Zafir by most). You wouldn't be the first to think the Zafi were a lie. Illusions and traps both magical and physical act as a test for potential Magi. All of their abilities are tested, and failure often means they are forced to return or die. Those who pass the tests discover the greatest secret of the magical world, a grand city that exists outside of the normal world.
The climate is pleasant, flowers bloom in grasses where only snow lay before. Trees reach up to the sky, which is dominated by grand towers that flow elegantly into the sky - some of them even floating. Rich hues of orange and a light cream are the dominant colour, although purples and blues dominate the lower portions. There are no walls, only smaller buildings at the city's edge and a single road that leads towards the city.
The city is home to arguably the world's most renowned Magi, all gathered on one place to experiment, share knowledge and provide tutoring for the lucky few who pass the island's tests. The libraries of Al Zafir stretch almost endlessly, the buildings seemingly cavernous on the inside yet thin on the out. Life here is paradise to some, but for those who shun magic it would be hell itself. The arcane powers of Creation Inertia pervade the very air, can be tasted in the water and provide flavouring for the food the magi eat. Daily training can be seen in the various courtyards, magical displays lighting up the city even throughout the night. Species nor ethnicity matters not to these Magi, so it is common to find Elves and Avareen flitting about a myriad collection of Humanity. Rare is an Orc - the magic they would perform and the magic of the city would turn their skin a sickly Green, scarring their lineage forever more in the eyes of other Orcs. All of these people have one thing in common, the moment they step foot into Al Zafir they throw all of their old ties away, they no longer can call themselves members of a faction or race, they are now known simply as Zafi. They don elegant grey robes to keep the cold outside the phase away, take up a crystal-headed staff that symbolises their new people and never return to their old unless under mission from the Council of Zafir - the ten most prominent Magi who tightly control who goes out (it is also said they control who comes in). - Al Makir Island - The Smaller of the Two Islands:
Al Makir is just as barren and unforgiving as Al Zafir, although this island is completely abandoned by organic sentients. There are no Out-Of-Phase Cities upon Al Makir, rather there is simply an ancient ruinous complex - and a small village. A mystery to the world, to everyone, this village is the sole home of the Zafi'an Automata. Here they sit, in their fresh reality, newly awoken from their century old slumber. Even the Zafi have forgotten about this experiment, conducted by a mad sect of their Magi. Now the Automata have constructed a number of wooden vessels, and many are ready to set out upon a journey that will take them away from this lifeless island of ruins and mystery.
- Al Zafir Island - The Larger of the Two Islands:
- {The Taylie Tundra.}
Endless. The first word that comes to mind when one witnesses the Taylie Tundra for the first time. A largely open land of sparse tree cover, stone hillocks and tundra grasses.
Witches. The second word that comes to mind, especially when one first sees the Burned Men. Strung up on wood, the Burned Men are the remains - often flayed, prior to burning - of male Humans who wander into the Tundras. Their legs are spread wide, their arms tied together and held high over their naked bodies. This grim sign is all any local needs to see in order to stay away, far away. For the Taylie Tundra is host to the Taylie'an, a cult of Sorceresses that burn men alive in the name of their God, Mar'jiah - the Distant Fire - and a co-group known as the Forgotten Sons. Exceptionally Sellswords, if a little cruel and rapacious - but they get the job done, and provide 'safety' to those who precariously inhabit the Tundra.
Cities are none existent, towns are rare and villages are scarce. Few people dare inhabit this region, even if it is fit for farmland or pasture. The burnt-out husks of Homesteads dot the landscape, a reminder of those who failed to colonise the region. These often go hand-in-hand with the Burned Men effigies. A solitary exception to this rule, Keier Mogrhain, exists somewhere in the Tundra. Few but the Witches and Sons know of its location, and few but the Witches leave its walls. It stands tall and forboding in the side of a mountain, the single entrance is a long bridge that leads out to a small town at its base - where the Sons live. While many witches live in this Fortress, most remain isolated in the Tundra. They live a solitary life, for the most part, until they require something of their Sisters or Sons - or wish to bring back a mate, where they will give birth and help raise a daughter - or abandon a son. These Witches tend to live in small Homesteads, not unlike those few honourable peasentry that survive in the Tundra, particularly they have a fondness for caves. Reminds them of the stone halls of home. - {Haelstrom = RECREATE/PART OF TAYLIE TUNDRA.}
- The Empire of Partivia:
- {Partivia.}
- {Synadria.}
- {Lucretia.}
- {Verentia.}
- {Barathia.}
- {Cantaria.}
- {Sal 20, Maormer = CREATE.}