At the fore the Riftkith-Lands were one, unsullied by the idle hands of terrene artifice. The eithuszar of the eldest recount this time in their way, when the woodland winds are right in their whistling and the bones of all the earth show through skin pulled tight: a deadwood glimmer beyond the ken of even the wizened lucerne. Theirs is a place of moth-flutters and cetonine rippling, and in those days the first were of the land and were within it, unhewn ground anon Tenya when called at last to nascent breath.
The land had not yet learned the permanence of rote eons, and as the stone will not breathe until through great labor the secret of its graven-face be laid bare, so too did the Riftkith-lands part for the thunder of the heavens. So split the chisel of the sky, whence came the first blooding of the heavens and fell as numinous rain upon the land. Earth and stone and root drank of blood spilt for names that were not their own, for this is the binding covenant of the soil which is written in hymnal rain and ink-eddies the skin of all that we were. They drink it still, keeping compact when all others have forgotten their part.
And where the thirsting of the earth was quenched there came forth Kith without end who were of the land and were upon it, knowing neither the beat of mothwings nor the days before their bones were spoilt, proclaiming with flesh-made tongues the virtue of their five-and-one shapes. Into their corners they went, for the land was all asunder, and they called themselves one by kinship of the thusz, which is of our memory, and shut their ears to its whispering. They built their houses by different names, osseous all, and in each corner where the heavensblood pooled they set their longing.
For one-and-five ages the Kith crystallized in their mazes, ramified and liquid, until from the very land there rose the voice of the heavens, which said:
“Ye hagionymphs, who have blindly risen and yourselves kin yclept in tongues your own, who are of this land fractured and mirror it in ways more one for your breaking: Of this land make something true-entire, and the corridors of your bone-houses set in pattern. Do this and return, for you are upon the land and of the heavens, and this disseverance becomes you not.”
Hearing this, the Kith rose up in their corners, rhizomatic and begemmed with their phratry. The eldest recount a right-whistling then, and an eleucresis of the dawn, and the land gathered itself in fistfuls and scratching-claws and the coils of fifty-and-ten shapes hence unreturned. By mouthfuls and wingbeats and dread skittering it became as one: a vibrant bonework where the corners of all houses are upon the land and are within it, a tower which is of our memory.
We came to dwell in our tower, the hypocotyl of the mundane, and there we remained when the heavens once ruptured knit together in love to crown our houses. There we remained still, having learned the lessons of permanence, when they opened again to a new blooding and fell beyond our patternings and bonehalls. And so we went out, for the covenant of the soil binds the land to the drinking of blood wheresoever it should fall, and ventured far until our land was vanished but for the fistfuls we bring, which are the point of puncture, maw anon Tenya. Here we remain: hoarding eldest bones lain crystalline in our fold, listening for mothwings.
The Imperial heartland: The spires and crags of Niva Pontos are but vague shapes on the eastern horizon, but even so far from the center of the Empire her highways remain crowded. The broad path teems with travelers drawn from all corners of the realm. Heavily-perfumed flood-barons swerve to avoid dour processions of Godbury monks roaming toward the capital while locals both rich and poor meander this way and that, tending to their daily errands. Each and all freeze in place at the command of a dark-armored sentinel, one of many escorting a colossal carriage down the center of the avenue.
The coach is sculpted from a single piece of deep black stone, its only visible opening a circular window on one side whose curtains remain drawn. An unmistakable relief carved above the window betrays the occupants of the vehicle: The emblem of the at-Rega Simfonya, the royal diabolists and their keepers. Travelers avert their eyes, spitting and curling their fingers into warding shapes as the edifice rolls past, conspicuously silent for such a large transport. The crowd remains still until the carriage has dwindled in the distance and the guardsmen wave them along dismissively.
So the process repeats when a new crop of wayfarers draw near. Sentries stride forward in an arc before the carriage and raise their hands in unison, issuing their command in shouts that cut through the relative calm of the afternoon.
As we look for new ways to introduce writers to the @auldenon rpg setting, we’ve decided to start generating various open starters and prompts for folks to interact with. These posts will take place across the vast and diverse locales of Auldenon, where your character can partake in independent adventures and meet a variety of figures who coexist with them. We invite anyone to respond to these posts in-character as we hope it’ll be an easy, lowkey, and immersive way for you, the writer, and your character to find footing within the setting. One open starter will be posted at a time, as we intend to resolve the events of each thread and want to give your writing the time and attention it deserves and allow your characters to explore and exist within the world.
This is a community effort, though– that means we also need you! If you’re interested in participating, please drop a like on this post to help give us an idea of what we’re in for!
And as always, we’re ready and eager to help out where we can. If you have questions, comments, or would like a crash course on anything related to the setting, please reach out to @aldoreth or @hazriel and we’ll see what we can do!
A brief summary of the major regions within the Empire of Asteveil, their histories, and their cultures.
NIVA PONTOS
The central region of the Empire was once a series of disparate kingdoms and estates that stretched from the southern coast of Auldenon to the foothills surrounding the Godbury Mount. The Astevei clan’s rise to prominence first as courtiers and eventually as the rulers of Niva Pontos itself, however, began an era of consolidation. Through expert political maneuvering and more than one bloody campaign, the independent kingdoms surrounding Niva Pontos swore fealty one by one and the heartland of the Empire was born.
The land itself is generally flat, with rolling hills that become more severe as one travels toward Godbury or Uhel. The forests of Godbury and Auchord give way to wide, temperate plains near the city of Niva Pontos itself, with a few large rivers running from the upper reaches toward the coast. The Empire’s characteristic floating isles are a relatively common sight, with smaller islets drifting overhead and the larger populated islands remaining fixed in place.
Decades of strong commerce and proximity to power have made Niva Pontos the most affluent region of the Empire. The roads throughout the region, carefully-maintained by local officials, are broad and smooth, allowing the bountiful harvests of the southern plains to be distributed easily. Ornate garments dyed with expensive pigments, precious jewelry, and valuable enchanted items are a common sight in the cities and even rural homesteads enjoy greater prosperity than their counterparts in other regions. While the inhabitants of Niva Pontos are considered by some of the outer regions to be effete and spoiled, they have garnered a reputation in other corners as calculating governors and capable stewards of the Empire at large.
Echoes of lost Pontos abound in the styles and architecture of the Imperial heartland, though they have been altered over time as humanity came into contact with, and was influenced by, elves and anachire. The result is a blend of fashions and motifs, most readily apparent in Niva Pontos itself where ancient buildings in the Pontic style stand beside their more contemporary counterparts.
GODBURY
The northwestern region of the Empire is home to rugged hills, deep forests in the southeast leading toward Sumarfold, and wide stretches of grassland along the Rauthite border. The Godbury Mount, a towering peak of immense significance in Tresceian doctrine, lies at the center of the region surrounded by major temples connected by smaller towns and roadside inns.
The region was established early in human history as settlers expanded further upriver from Niva Pontos, with the resulting villages near the foot of the Godbury Mount proving a popular destination for pilgrims and priests alike. Temples sprung up quickly as places of intense worship and study, while the burgeoning towns enjoyed great prosperity as a result of the constant traffic through the region.
Being so closely entwined with the Tresceian orthodoxy, the culture of Godbury came to emphasize qualities valued by the faith: Godliness, honor, honesty, and loyalty. It was their commitment to these traits that led Godbury to align itself with the nascent Astevei dynasty, seeking to ensure the continued virtue of the Empire that would follow.
Godbury is the source of many of the Empire’s high-ranking priests, with temples and abbeys officially sanctioned by Niva Pontos dotting the landscape. Unlike their brethren in many other Imperial regions, inhabitants of Godbury remain largely in touch with their Pontic roots and the pious spirit of their forebears. To the rest of the Empire, they are considered blunt, hardworking, loyal, and devout above all.
When it comes to clothing, northerners tend to dress simply, foregoing the elaborate or colorful dress of neighboring regions in favor of ascetic, functional garb well-suited to their mountainous surroundings. Holy symbols are often worn on one’s person or woven into their clothing as a measure of devotion, but the garments themselves are generally unremarkable.
In matters of architecture, however, Godbury excels. The most ancient temples ringing the foothills of the Godbury Mount have been repaired and added to over time, becoming towering monuments adorned with statues and reliefs of the gods and their exploits, as well as the prominent saints and heroes of the faith. Each temple is a unique labor of love maintained by a throng of dedicated acolytes and masons, and echoes of their work can be seen throughout the region: Roadside inns maintain walls of carvings detailing popular myths, town squares are overlooked by stately buildings bearing the gods’ likenesses, and even the most humble farmer keeps an effigy of their favored god at their doorstep.
HAEMATHIA
The second region to take up the Asteveil banner and the first kingdom to culturally distinguish itself from its neighbors, Haemathia carries a long and storied history in its own right. Situated in the drainage basin to the south of Uhel, the region has historically been blessed by bountiful harvests that attracted opportunistic settlers who were dissatisfied by the growing influence of elves and anachire in Niva Pontos. These homesteads eventually banded together and officially established the realm of Haemathia, proclaiming themselves the heirs to the ways of lost Pontos.
In many ways, the attitudes of Haemathia are similar to those of Godbury, albeit more secular than religious: The historical values of old Pontos are revered and outside influence is met with mistrust and hostility. This worldview extends to the art and architecture of the region, which are consistent with the most ancient structures in Niva Pontos. To the dismay of many, this lends some legitimacy to the Haemathians’ claims of having preserved Pontic culture against the forces of change.
The kingdom’s early efforts to establish itself as the true successor of Pontos were seen as a provocation by its more influential neighbor, leading to the Hegemonic War between the two regions ca. 250 PC during which the Haemathian armies were decimated by the forces of Niva Pontos (who, it should be noted, included no small number of the very elves and anachire the Haemathians resented.)
The terms that ended the war were restrictive and rendered Haemathia a vassal state of Niva Pontos in all but name, ensuring that it would never regain the same level of prominence. In the intervening years, the region stagnated as it continued to cling to the ways of old Pontos. Efforts to modernize the kingdom were made after the formal establishment of the Empire but were met with mixed success, leaving the region a more traditionalist, more impoverished echo of its ancient counterpart.
Today, the language and architecture of Haemathia are the region’s most distinctive features. Large, square structures dot the landscape, supported by ornate pillars. The citizenry dress with none of the finery of Niva Pontos, preferring a more old-fashioned and neutral style, and the accent and phrasing with which they conduct their business are considered quaint– if not outdated– by the rest of the Empire.
UHEL
Uhel, roughly translated to “the high place” in the old dialect of the Olenfolk, is a region overlooking the sheer cliffs that border Vranir. Originally settled by the first clans to separate from the Host of King Olen, Uhel boasts a sizable population of Olenfolk and the influences of Vranic culture are apparent in all facets of life.
A rocky region situated high above the Rrelash Floodplains to the north and Haemathia to the south, Uhel stretches from the cliffs along the edge of Vranir to the foot of the Godbury Mount. It is home to the Empire’s most expansive quarries and deepest mines, providing the raw materials for everything from construction to enchanting.
Villages in Uhel strike an uneasy balance between the architectural styles of the Olenfolk and their Pontic counterparts. Entire settlements are constructed along cliff faces or over mountain passes, connected by a continuous series of walkways and bridges that unite the township in a way reminiscent of Vranir’s renowned megastructures.
Once an independent series of chiefdoms, Uhel fell victim to Imperial expansionism in the wake of the Hegemonic War. Opportunistic clans on the border of Haemathia took advantage of the conflict to pillage the small settlements along the border, drawing first the attention and then the wrath of the Empire. The disparate clans posed little threat to the united forces of the Empire and were quickly conquered. The edicts that followed were far less restrictive than those imposed upon Haemathia and were largely limited to imposing Imperial language and currency upon the region. Local leaders remained in place after being administered an oath and promising periodic tribute to the Empire, allowing Uhel’s insular clan-based society to continue without further disruption.
The region's inhabitants are seen as coarse and resilient by the Empire at large, and they cling tightly to their Olenfolk customs. Honor is paramount in Uhel, and any slight against one’s character or prestige demands recompense. Duels, both lethal and otherwise, are a common practice for honorably settling disputes, as are tests of skill or intellect. Likewise, the region’s common styles of dress and art reflect their old traditions: heavy cloaks and garments of simple, martial severity are the favored style and piles of charred offerings smolder outside of temples until the soot can be used to darken each home’s threshold. Meticulously-metered poetry is the favored means of recording true events and myths alike, and the two often blend further into each other with each telling until the boundary becomes impossible to discern.
RRELASH FLOODPLAINS
Named after the River Rrelash that runs from the Godbury Mount to the coast of Srathas, the Floodplains are home to several large rivers and tributaries that swell in the summer and drain into a number of small lakes and ponds as the water recedes. The land slopes gradually downward the further east one travels, leading eventually to the steep cliffs of Vranir and the rainforest of Srathas beyond. Since its soil remains wet nearly year-round, the region has proven a reliable and productive source of certain crops including berries, taro, and rice. As a result, agriculture remains a profitable endeavor and the harvests of Floodplains frontiersmen are relied upon to sustain the neighboring regions of Uhel and Godbury.
The Rrelash Floodplains are considered an isolated backwater by much of the Empire, far north enough to be beyond the immediate concern of the more influential regions and carrying enough Nsoni influence to be practically alien to outsiders. The recent rise of the Heir in the border settlement of Menath’vha has only contributed to this sentiment, leading many to dismiss the region as little more than a dangerous marsh.
Despite this reputation, the Floodplains are an old and integral part of the Empire. Little by little, what was once a scattered collection of independent farming communities submitted to Imperial rule in the interest of maintaining their trade relations with the principalities of Uhel– jeopardized by the Imperial conquest of that region after a brief and bloody campaign– and gaining protection from marauders flowing into their lands from Vranir.
The art, attitudes, and customs of the Floodplains are deeply influenced by the region’s heavy Nsoni population. Perfumes and incense are fixtures of many villages across the region, as are the quirks of ilseiss architecture: Tall, narrow doors and windows adorn the buildings that line the paths, scented smoke coiling lazily from censers suspended above each threshold. The citizenry go about their business wrapped in drab, simple garments and a veritable mist of fragrance, with brightly-colored markings carefully applied to their throats and arms.
AUCHORD
Situated between Exted and Sumarfold, the province of Auchord remains a foreign and mysterious realm to much of the Empire. Large portions of the land are concealed by the dense forests native to Sumarfold, which make travel a confusing and potentially dangerous venture should one wander beyond the major towns and groves at the region’s edge.
More familiar than most with the elemental rifts of Sumarfold, Auchord has historically enjoyed fair weather and unnaturally fertile soil brought about by their close proximity to the climate-shaping magic of the rivtenya. A small sect of mages proficient in this art have existed for many years since receiving instruction from the court of Aphoset, but the distance between Auchord and the rifts limits their influence over the land.
Magic and astronomy are common pursuits in Auchord, which has styled itself after the courts of Sumarfold with expansive libraries in each city housing esoteric knowledge and a long line of philosopher-sovereigns steering affairs with a stern hand. Stately observatories and greenhouses line the streets, illuminated in strange colors by captive ghost lights. With mundane concerns such as agriculture managed through arcane means, an appreciation for all things opulent has taken hold of the Chordian populace. Though the study of arcana is a frequent path, citizens find themselves free to pursue any path they please. The result is a vibrant region of artists, scholars, and craftsmen that revel in the strange and grandiose.
Intricately-embroidered garments and hands covered in colorful tattoos are as synonymous with Auchord in the rest of the Empire as tales of travelers lost to the woods or mistrustful rumors of dark magic at work beyond the treeline. The style carries clear influence drawn from the lavish fashions of neighboring Sumarfold and Exted, but remains unique and distinctive. As a result, Chordian garments are sought after by the upper crust of Imperial society as symbols of status and erudition.
BARLOVIA ISLAND
The largest of Auldenon’s islands, Barlovia is a sprawling, sleepy expanse of meadows that rise in a series of plateaus as one travels further inland. Small hamlets dot the lower reaches, while Imperial fortifications and boroughs loom in the mist that covers the upper levels.
Barlovia is known as a quiet isle, serving as an inconspicuous and efficient nexus of Imperial bureaucracy. The settlements lining its lower regions tend to be peaceful fishing villages, merchant ports, or farmsteads, none of which operate with any particular urgency. Time moves slowly on Barlovia and its inhabitants are untroubled by the outside world.
Barlovian fashion differs little from the styles of Niva Pontos, albeit constructed of cheaper materials and half-hidden beneath thick cloaks that ward against the rain and fog. Likewise, religious practice on the island seems to borrow from Exted, with each citizen revering the spirits and deities that most directly impact their own lives. However, the innumerable cults and webs of intrigue that define Exted are noticeably absent on Barlovia.
EXTED
If Godbury styles itself as the moral center of the Empire, then Exted has fast come to represent its heart and passion. The rocky shores and verdant plains are home to innumerable small towns, linked by narrow roads that spread like cobwebs from the major cities near the region’s center. The Ethtine cling tightly to their ways and customs even in the face of Imperial efforts to homogenize culture within its borders. Indeed, the freedom to keep to their traditional way of life was among the terms struck when Empress Herachia rode to the capital of Lepris armed with her chalice.
Ethtine culture is something of an anomaly, having developed in relative isolation for most of human history. The result is a shockingly vibrant and broad-minded region whose practices seem all but alien to foreigners. Inhabitants of Exted tend to eschew organized religion, with individuals instead electing to worship a particular deity or group that holds personal significance, essentially creating their own personal pantheon of gods, saints, and minor spirits. Small cults dedicated to these figures are commonplace, each with their own unique rites and practices.
In keeping with the Ethtine fondness for small, tight-knit groups, secret societies flourish in the region. Membership in one or more of these groups is common and associates make their affiliations known through a variety of symbols ranging from distinctive jewelry to secret gestures or phrases. Conflict between these hidden groups is inevitable, though, and intrigue has become a fact of life in Exted. Indeed, plain aggression and outright warfare are frowned upon as barbaric; unseen schemes are the method of choice for dealing with one’s opponents, whether political, social, or economic.
A stunning blur of color and motion belie the turbulent undercurrents of Exted. Citizens dress in many layers of colorful, flowing garments accented with the characteristic jewelry and cosmetics of their secret societies, banners and flags of all shapes and colors line the streets, and the disparate cults hold frequent festivals dedicated to obscure spirits. As a result, many of the more conservative regions tend to view Exted as a province of libertines and heathens. Despite this reputation, though, the vibrance and passion of Ethtine culture have quickly left the region’s mark on the Empire as a whole.
Hazriel halted as though mutt trailing over the wind commanded her so. But it was the accusation’s meaning that had her exasperated laugh delightfully coast from her chest as she turned back to Kat.
“Believe me, social polarities championed by humans are at the bottom of my list of things to entertain.” Her ton akin to that used with a delinquent juvenile, truth still shone through with a pointed distaste for the accusations that Kat pondered aloud. Hazriel’s face pulled into a sour pout or sneer, obscured by the darkness it was hard to see, but the energy unmistakably roiled off her in offence to the other woman’s ruminations.
Another flash of amber sparked with an eye roll under her hood, as though the effort of explaining took a toll on her emotional and mental space that wasn’t even worth it. “Even the most well-read books hide secrets between their lines. It doesn’t mean the narrative isn’t visible. Why do you think people read and re-read books until the end of their days?”
She let the rhetorical question die out in her air of indifference as she shifted her weight to be more readily open. Patiently waiting as she watched the strings of shadow burrow their way into her funeral bed, she picked at her darkened nails to free them of the muck in the meantime.
Her attention was caught once again by the disturbed surface of the dirt. And though she knew the night obscured her, she raised a platinum brow with typical disapproval, the kind that used to make her siblings cower with terror because they read between the lines etched into her forehead. “These are quite the accusations, might I say? Fanciful ones at that, considering the evidence. So, perhaps books aren’t what you need to worry about, but mirrors instead.”
“Ah, now, what do we have here? Justice? An apology for such scrutiny at this time of night?” Hazriel mercilessly boasted as she knew beneath the ground did indeed lay a hound. “I’m even willing to accept a simple admission of lack of respect or tact.”
A sweet laugh rang out cruelly from her lips. Clearly, the elf was entertained by the foolish manner in which they had just exchanged words. “Whenever the tax collector comes around to report his missing dog, someone should remind him drink and anger don’t mix well.”
"But are you so read that the pages are torn, spine tattered, and covers fading?" Kat inquired rhetorically, in a low tone.
"A lack of respect or tact would imply that I meant to have any from the beginning," She snickered from beneath the hood. "They have their time and place, absolutely, but it grows tiresome when required in one's occupation daily, and quite frankly, who will give a shit out here? It is only us, and if either wished to strike, it would have happened by now."
Kat shook her head slowly as the amber-colored gaze drifted to the distant treeline, leather-clad shoulders lifting in a dispassionate shrug.
"Justice? Not interested. An apology? Hardly. Makes no difference to me what is buried here or the reason for doing so. Could be a dog, a manwhore, former lover, racist prick— all the same to me." The gloved hand danced in the space before her as Kat spoke, shifting with each word in natural motions.
"People, on the other hand, now that is more of an interest. From an innocent standpoint, most of the time. There was a charge in the air earlier, after I first approached, a...shadowy one. Most like to keep that under wraps, yet you were unphased when I displayed my own. Not the usual reaction and curious still...almost as if there were air of familiarity here. Strange, I do find it."
Third day of the Year of Still Tides, now celebrated as a holiday across the Empire.
Parents:
Empress Herachia ul-Gyremnon per-at Exted Astevei and Lord Consort Jirhane of the Godbury Mount.
Marriage:
Wed Lady Consort Degnea of Bether on the hundredth day of the Year of Tame Isles.
Children:
General Thalea of the Rose Tower, born on the 207th day of the year of Pale Fire.
Nilosse, Castellan of Whithere, born on the 340th day of the year of Broken Stone.
Acchos, born on the 92nd day of the year of Root and Brick.
A Brief Biography:
For the first two decades of his life, Orimaeon was instructed by the Empire’s greatest minds in subjects ranging from mathematics and astronomy to law and philosophy. These were coupled with extensive lessons from his mother and father on the practicalities of ruling and the finer details of the Tresceian faith.
In the Year of Crossed Valleys, Orimaeon ascended the throne at the age of 27 after the sudden death of Empress Herachia. He inherited an Empire at peace, and his shrewd stewardship led the realm to continued prosperity even as he dedicated large sums of coin to the arts and magical research.
Shortly thereafter, in the Year of Tame Isles, Emperor Orimaeon wed Lady Consort Degnea of Bether atop the first floating isle to be successfully steered and developed by imperial magi. This isle would soon come to house the mobile portion of the imperial palace.
In the decades that followed, life in the Empire remained stable under Orimaeon’s leadership. He fathered three children, the eldest two of which have since assumed positions of authority in the imperial military and administrative sectors in preparation for an eventual vacancy on the throne. Following a thwarted assassination attempt in the Year of Sallow Feathers, the Emperor became increasingly reclusive, relying more and more heavily on the council of Paerarchs to govern effectively.
Seeking to follow his mother’s example and bring new lands into the fold, Orimaeon launched an invasion of the neighboring nation of Entari in the Year of Bent Spokes. Support from Syldor was quick to arrive, drawing the conflict into an uneasy stalemate which has become a blemish on the Emperor’s name.
“Conventional wisdom and the odd personal encounter both hold that all fae are known by two names, similar in composition but vastly different in meaning and significance. The first of these is the name by which they are known to the greater world, referred to by the fae themselves as a Blindname. Barring an exceedingly rare exception, the Blindname is traditionally used for the purposes of introductions and interactions with the mortal races. The second name, and the one from which the Blindname is derived, is an abstract account of the fae’s lineage and hue known as a Bindname. These are a series of layered metaphors describing the history of an individual’s ancestry, typically only able to be parsed by other fae who are well acquainted with that peculiar dialect. While not as all-powerful as the fabled concept of a true name, Bindnames are nevertheless guarded carefully in interactions with mortals, as much for the sake of privacy as that of tradition.”
