juicy lore for éirinn
KOBIAL rises from the fertile delta at the heart of the earth. The cradle of civilisation. Sure, yes, those from the north, with their coarse pale skin and stomachs lined with dirt have the resilience to survive the most vicious winter, the power to terraform their land. This society, however, got over that a very long time ago. They were lucky, really, that the land held them so graciously - but from those dark, rich roots sprung a civilisation that would last for centuries.
These citadels are run mostly independently - in ancient times an aggressive oligarchy pushed for expansion, and while this gained them wealth and land, so much of their collective energies were dedicated to exhaustive military service that, eventually, the intellectuals within the society realised this was … actually getting them nowhere but hungry, tired, and spread thin. So they decided to tie a ribbon around their winnings, and focused instead on internal development.
they’ve collected a VAST wealth of knowledge. A formidable trading fleet, swift as the soft wind, cut foaming trails into the vast ocean. Soon they’d established links worldwide, and with a plethora of materials and a drive to learn - the shared experience and talent they soon gathered within their cobalt citadels lead to rapid development - scholarly, alchemical, technical, medical, artistic, literary. The empire that had hauled itself from the sands bathed in blood had suddenly become a passive world power - and, those old enough to remember the taste of rust, saw their people happy and spreading across the globe.
the Womb of the World - a deep artesian well that swells below the capitol - still hold some of the first magic that shaped the world. They’re the last society in which native magic is fairly common - and when amplified by this sacred liquid, those trained in magery can accomplish superhuman feats. Coveted amongst travellers, pilgrims, warriors and traders - many cast far from their homeland, knucklebones from Fate’s fist, covet gleaming vials of the water. A link to home, and a promise of power. Those who visit regularly return with some of their own - it’s rumoured to promise deep sleep - rolling the glass between your thumb and palm brings you a deep calmness, the same as the mirror surface of that endless, ancient pool.
‘Warriors’ maybe isn't exactly fair. those who seek war generally leave their land - Kobial has no standing army, no mercenary contracts - but those who seek to learn the art of blade and bow are taught. Masterful warriors move like dancers, lithe curved blades, tight, elegant bows. They rarely turn their blades on other men - but when they do, they don't do it by halves.
Famed warriors from one area of the empire - Swallows - known as Winged Men. Legend says the voice of the wind told them the secret of flight - that the first of them flew up to their mountaintop Polis and carved it from the rocks they found. Others that, one ancient hero was carried up there by a monstrous bird - when he slayed it, people rose from where its feathers fell. Others, that the first men climbed the mountain for days, and mated with the harpies they found there. It’s not, entirely certain HOW there came to be a sprawling city-state on the plateau of a huge mountain, but there is one. Every year many make the treacherous journey up, to learn how to cut men and monsters down.
Swallows specialise in siege - their armour is built with gliders, so while they can’t fly per se, they’re capable of bouncing back after being flung from impregnable walls. Their helmets are fashioned after the heads of birds - sleek, elegant, streamlined - they’re believed to be the incarnations of protective spirits, and fashion themselves as such. Generally a more defensive than offensive force - but they rarely pass up the chance to show off their talents.
Standard issue shields are mechanical - they can be carried in ether an interlocking ‘V’ formation - which is as offensive as defensive, and can be expanded for phalanx use, or to protect the injured, or, into a body length ovoid - which, though slender, provides ample protection when used by a trained soldier. In addition to this, the body of the shield is made from a kind of tempered faience. Like their armour, this is often individually patterned, with the wielder’s own patron god, or lucky symbol, or hometown, or regiment. It’s also, most definitely, luminescent. After sunset, Kobiali armies are bathed in the softest of blue glows - the light carries enough that they can fight efficiently, can scope out the battlefield together. Though this also paints a rather large target on an individual soldier, a unit working together seems impenetrable. Helmets and mail are also often patterned with this ancient glass, painting the warriors of Kobial into ghostly assailants.
service on ships is a rite of passage for most youths - isolated with a new team and cast onto the ocean, the aim is that they learn the value of teamwork and mutual respect- it, generally works - those who’ve served braid their tight hair to their scalp - one line for each year spent at sea - three is the norm, but its not uncommon to see elders with braids down to their waist, locked into their beards.
tattoos are also fairly commonplace among travellers - someone inked head to toe is a good indication of someone with a lot of good stories to tell.
Respect is always given freely - it takes a fair amount of dedication to turn a Kobiali’s heart against you. They remind themselves that their own past is blood-soaked. How can they ask forgiveness and understanding, if they aren’t prepared to give it with every step.
there’re a fair amount of native monsters - sphinx, gryphons, Roc, chimerae, harpies, sirens - its less common to find monsters that used to be human, less desperation than to the west, where the hungry eat their kin to see another dawn. Agricultural development, medicine, love and infrastructure does kinda, lead to that.
Cairûn absolutely killed the tyrant prince who was lined up to seize the throne - he’d been swayed by 50 years of service to his undying father and, having grown sick of watching the poor thrive, and as his family served meals and handed wealth to those he considered inferior, and had decided that he’d take back what he considered to be his. Admittedly Cai didn’t know this when he ran him through - he was just trying to protect his friend, but uhh… he did do that. Instead of, as Evelyn expected, Kobial being outraged… they ended up… thanking him…. owing him fealty…. their respect would be instrumental in his own later campaigns.