#war chronicle notes

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Marvels of Norzelia, Vol. 15

I, Marko, began this journey to explore every corner of Norzelia.

Unfortunately, that dream is yet unfulfilled.

I trekked through forests, traversed deserts, sailed up rivers, and scaled mountains. I rode horses at times, and soared atop the backs of hawks at others. But even still there were peaks beyond the mountains, and a sea of sand as far as the eye can see.

Norzelia is a land without end. And so my dream may end at that—a dream.

Even if it does, I have no regrets.

I learned so much about Norzelia in my travels. I’ve seen both its wilds and cities, and met countless people who call this realm home.

My journey was full of discoveries and inspiring moments. I wrote this diary to convey the incredible things I was blessed to witness with my own eyes and how those marvels made me feel.

I believe that someday, another traveler will pick up my journey where I left off. They will fulfill my dream of seeing every corner of Norzelia.

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Marvels of Norzelia, Vol. 14

I happened upon that village by mistake while lost in my travels.

When I saw that everyone’s hair was the color of roses. I realized that I must be in the Rosellan village. I had thought it to be a mere rumor until then.

At first, they were wary of me—no doubt because I was an outsider—but when they learned that I had been wandering the wilderness for days and was moments from collapse, I was immediately welcomed into their midst. They even prepared a bed and hot meal for me.

I stayed in that village for a brief spell and eventually befriended the Roselle therein.

I am not a follower of the Goddess, but I know Her Teachings claim the Roselle tried to seize the realm’s salt as their own. As such, I held a regrettably bad opinion of the Roselle, despite never having met them... But those villagers were kind and proud. They welcomed a complete stranger like myself with open arms. I fell absolutely ashamed of my rash assumptions.

I won’t reveal the location of their village nor the identity of its occupants.

I do not intend to criticize the Goddess or Her followers, but at the same time, I do not believe that the Roselle should be unilaterally condemned as sinners.

I pray that a day comes when the Goddess’s faithful and the Roselle can live together in peace in our fine realm, and Norzelia will be all the better for it.

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Marvels of Norzelia, Vol. 13

At the southernmost reaches of the realm, the waters of the Norzelia River rage over the Great Falls. The waterfall spills over a cliff so large, it looks as if it has rent the very world in twain. Beholding the Falls makes one keenly aware of just how small humans are, and gives one the sensation they have traveled to the ends of the earth. One can take not a step further, but only watch as the waters tumble down, down, down, until they disappear. No one knows for certain what lies beyond the Great Falls, though legend says there is naught but barren wasteland.

And we have only legends to go off of, for none who have ventured past the Falls have ever returned. Even I have no way of discovering the truth. The path ends here, and I have exhausted my supplies I must put this place behind me and return to Norzelia. To civilization.

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Marvels of Norzelia, Vol. 12

There is no sight in the realm as impressive as the Hyzantian capital. After braving the vast desert, the first thing a visitor to this great city sees is a wall so huge, it does not look like it could have been made by human hands: the Goddess’s Shield.

Pass through the gate and you will emerge into a thriving metropolis of believers. Just beyond the streets lies the huge, calm waters of the Source. Unbelievable as it may seem, the city and the wall encircle the entirety of the great lake where all of Norzelia’s salt originates.

In the center of the lake towers a mountainlike statue of the Goddess, an enduring symbol of the Holy State’s faith. Indeed, after beholding how Hyzante could not only survive in the middle of an inhospitable desert, but thrive, even an unbeliever such as myself started to think that statue might actually be the Goddess incarnate.

In the palace in the city’s center lives the hierophant, who they say hears the voice of the Goddess of Salt Herself. I imagine such a voice would be just as majestic and calm as the city She watches over.

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Marvels of Norzelia, Vol. 11

The Ministry of Medicine is an impressive institution for the pursuit of life and magic situated in the Hyzantian capital. Here, pioneers in the fields of magic, medicine, and healing use advanced research and experimentation to investigate the mysteries of life itself.

They use their findings to benefit believers, healing grievous wounds and curing hitherto incurable diseases for countless patients, and increasing the population’s overall health and life expectancy. They believe their research to be part of their Goddess’s divine blessings.

A ministry researcher I happened to meet told me: “There is no miracle panacea in this world, but we like to think nothing is impossible.” Whether her boundless optimism was due to her faith in the Goddess or in her own ability... That was not something I—neither a researcher nor a believer—was fit to judge.

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Marvels of Norzelia, Vol. 10

Situated at the edge of the Hyzantian desert, the Citadel of the Sands is the Holy State’s first line of defense. It has been the site of countless battles throughout history, including the vicious border skirmishes of the Saltiron War. Due to its importance, one of the Saintly Seven has always overseen its command. After the Saltiron War, Minister Sorsley Ende assumed the position and began the work of developing the Citadel into a trading post. To think that a place that has witnessed so much bloodshed could transform into a peaceful hub of commerce... Life truly is full or surprises. Perhaps that is why, though Hyzante rarely gets visitors from other lands, here I often catch glimpses of people whose providence I cannot discern. Or perhaps it is only in my imagination...

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Marvels of Norzelia, Vol. 9

Dear reader, I must apologize, for I cannot describe this location in any detail, both for my own safety and your own peace of mind. Pray forgive me. You see, the locale in question is home to an unlawful tournament, hosted by...well, someone whose identity is a secret best left alone. It was pure happenstance that I found myself paying a visit to this underground arena. The matches are all bloody battles, and spectators take great joy in wagering large sums on which combatant will emerge victor.

The entertainment here is truly a matter of life or death, and attracts an avid audience of highborn, wealthy patrons. You may recognize a face or two in the crowd... But it is best you forget whomever you think you see. Too much curiosity in a place like this is apt to get you killed. Of course, dear reader, you are free to doubt my account as you like. Indeed, your life may be happier if you choose to believe there is no such place where the rich gather to enjoy such a violent, deadly pastime.

[triangle-strategy-notes]

Marvels of Norzelia, Vol. 8

Up the Norzelia River and past a handful of craggy mountains lies the Aesfrosti capital. Despite the blizzards off swirling about it, the city itself is orderly and well maintained, and the people who swell there spirited and undaunted. But working together, they have managed to thrive in one of the most inhospitable places in the realm. It is this fortitude that has allowed Aesfrost to grow into a nation to be reckoned with.

Aesfrost’s Ironstone was carved out of a rocky mountainside—which is unusual, but fitting for a land with countless iron mines within its borders. It functions as both a castle and an iron factory.

Skilled artisans in the Grand Duchy are brought to the castle, where they mass-produce ironworks and engage in technological research. Thanks to an enormous forge as large and as hot as the mouth of a volcano within the castle, they are able to create huge quantities of ironware and weapons on a daily basis for Aesfrost’s pride and joy, the Blackirons.

Upon the castle’s ramparts is arguably the crowning achievement of Aesfrosti ironworking: a gigantic bell, larger than the largest dragon. I cannot even begin to fathom how they managed to create such a beast. Each day, the bell tolls the time for the people of the capital. It is so loud, it can be heard all throughout the mountains, and it has been been known to trigger avalanches on distant slopes.