Current History

Setting: Vitaveus, Year 1350 — The Age of Fracture

Three decades ago, the world changed forever. The Torment — a horrific, soul-consuming plague — emerged in the Republic of Decus, once the pinnacle of culture, faith, and knowledge. It devoured entire cities, twisting its victims into Afflicted husks, mindless and murderous. Civilization crumbled. The Republic fractured under the weight of its own Enlightenment. Now, the Republic fights on three fronts: Against the Torment itself, clawing at the heart of the Midlands.

Against the Resolve, a cabal of mages and necromancers blamed for unleashing the plague.

And against itself, as law and faith erode, and civil unrest rises.

In the shadows of this collapse, the fallen capital city of Tor — the First Province — has become a magnet for the desperate, the brave, and the greedy. Rumors claim the lost Archmagi left behind a cure. Others seek truth, revenge, or fortune. You are among those drawn to this forsaken province — to write your own Requiem.

Choose your origin story. Align with one of the major Republic factions: The Church, Templars, Apothecary Corp, Legion, Forlorn Hope, Foundry, Consortium or VIC. Your application and quarantine visa determines where you begin — and what influence, reputation, and housing access you hold within Penitence Valley.

Reputation system is now released. Everything is earned through RP. Faction, action, and consequence will define your standing. Faction alignment, player choices, and moral standing will now deeply affect your path forward. Loyalty to Naum and his divine cause? Republic allegiance? Forlorn Hope sympathizer? Or something more self-serving? Your reputation precedes you—and will shape every door opened or closed.

Major and Minor Quests unlock access to PV amenities, different regions, deepen your reputation, unlock Major Storyline Events and unravel the province’s mysteries.

This is the quiet before the Schism. How will you shape the fall… or rise from its ashes?

Our ancestors came to these lands a millennium ago, under the behest of the One True God, the ever-divine Archangel Decus, He Who Saved Man. For it is the Archangel who sacrificed his own immortality to give to the World of Man the tools to shape our destiny. It was our forefathers divine duty to bring the world and blessing of Decus across the face of Eden as repayment to Decus’ sacrifice. We do not forget that it was none other than the Archangel who sacrificed himself for the good of all Mankind to bring to the world the Truth, and it is in debt to Decus’ gift that we, the descendants of the First City, Temple, continue to worship him as the One True God.

Our world was once a place of darkness and despair. Our ancient ancestors had lived in utter ignorance while horrid monstrosities, the Ill, ravished our twisted lands. Our homeland, known to us as the Birthplace, suffered for untold centuries at the hands of the Ill and their minions. The great creator of All That Is and Was, known to us as the Mason, had turned a callous gaze upon his creations, leaving the World of Men to fend for themselves in a world of chaos and pain.

Yet not all hope was lost, for their had been other creations of the Mason, the Archangels, whom took to watching over the World of Men in their father’s stead. And among these divine creatures one did dwell that we revere as our God and Savior, Archangel Decus, He Who Saved Man. For Decus’ compassion far surpassed that of all his brethren combined, so much so that he sacrificed his own immortality and power of creation to walk amongst the World of Men in the flesh. With the Archangel’s coming came the dawn of a new age of Man, for He had given to us the knowledge of a thousand generations.

With this new-found knowledge did the Templar emerge to forge a new age for all mankind. Sworn servants of both Man and of Decus, the Templar purged the Birthplace of all that was Ill and unjust, bringing enlightenment and the graces of Decus to all. In but a few decades, the lands of the Birthplace were transformed from blight and danger to a place of sanctuary, all in part to the sacrifice of the One True God.

When the time had come for the One True God to finally succumb to his own mortality, he had left his Children but one request; to bring forth the Truth and all of it’s blessings to the rest of the World of Men. And so did our forefathers, the First Templar, did take sail across the vast seas and oceans of our world, leaving the Birthplace forever to bring the blessings of the Archangel to the far corners of the world.

Vitaveus is the first foreign land that our forefathers brought the word of the One True God to, or so the Old tales do tell. Once a land of primitive tribes and savages, our Faith has brought to this great nation civilization, safety and prosperity; gathering all of its peoples under one flag, one nation, and One True God. Over the past millennium, faith has shaped this great land into a place that the Archangel himself would approve of. Our great and divine Church had ruled benevolently over all aspects of modern life, ensuring that our forefathers divine crusade continued on throughout time immemorial.

Until recently, our great kingdom had been on the verge of a renaissance. The ever powerful Church reigned supreme over the lands of the Venerated Republic, ushering an era of enlightenment for all men. New mechanisms harnessing the fledgling technologies of steam and blackpowder were slowly being developed all over the kingdom for the benefit of all mankind. Poverty and famine had been nearly eliminated in all but the most remote territories of the kingdom, and the Republic’s mighty military force, the Legion, assured that no corner of the land was left unprotected from would-be highwaymen and criminals.

We had believed a golden era was upon us. Sadly, we were wrong.

The Torment, the debilitating scourge that has claimed millions, struck the land like a thief in the night, quickly and silently. The mysterious plague ran rampant through territories both large and small and across all corners of the kingdom. Thousands were infected with the mysterious blight within weeks, the forsaken sickness claiming not only the lives of all it touched, but their minds as well. The afflicted, as we came to call them, were stricken with madness and insatiable rage before succumbing to death or euthanasia. In those dark days, many of us looked to the Church for salvation, clinging to the hope that our infallible benefactor would find a means to save us from the horrors of the Torment. As the world as we knew it spiraled into chaos, many of us believed that our dire situation could not get any worse.

In droves, the victims of the Torment rose from their eternal slumber, with all of the rage and unholy madness they possessed before death. Like some great leviathan, hordes of the dead rose from mass graves all across the Republic, descending upon the already weakened kingdom with unbridled prejudice. Those claimed or even wounded by the abominations shared the same fate of their assailants, losing both their sanity and humanity in mere hours.

Within months, the kingdom had succumbed to anarchy. Entire territories fell to chaos, many due to the afflicted and Tormented hordes and their murderous zeal, while others collapses due to civil disorder. The Legion did it’s best to maintain order where it could, but the Republic had quickly become a land divided. Where the plague had not struck, peasants turned marauders had. What sparse territories that could be defended from the dangers of this new, dark world became havens of safe refuge, whilst the majority of the kingdom turned into killing fields.

This day marks nearly thirty years since the dead began to walk, and our once great Republic is but a mere shadow of its former glory. More than half of the kingdom has been lost to the Torment, and creatures of legend and folklore, known to us only in stories as the Ill, have begun emerging across all corners of this tainted land. Yet even more disturbing are the tales of the great betrayers, a cult of men and women who proclaim to follow the ways of the Old and herald the word of Truth. Known simply as the Resolve, it is these forsaken souls whom have claimed responsibility for the blight that is the Torment, all in the name of tearing down the New and restoring the world to the ways of the Old. Having disappeared nearly thirty years ago after unleashing the Torment upon our mighty kingdom, whispers speak of their ilk stirring in the far western reaches of the lost lands of the Republic – no doubt preparing to deliver the killing blow to our dying people.

Yet hope, albeit fleeting, can be found even in the darkest times. Rumors have spread throughout the land of salvation waiting to be claimed within the confines of a fallen territory of the Republic; the First Province. The former capital of the Republic and eldest territory of the entire kingdom, the Province had fallen to the taint of the Torment nearly two years prior, and lays abandoned since. As unlikely as the rumors may be, laymen across the Republic speak of relics of the Old that lay hidden in the confines of Tor, the fallen capital. How or why these tales have surfaced is anyone’s guess, but the truth behind them cannot be denied; if there truly is anywhere in the Republic that such ancient, concealed knowledge may lie, it would be within the ruins of Tor.

There are but a scant few adventurous souls within this decrepit world that would even dare the trek to First Province, for the journey alone is no easy feat. Even still, brave men and women from across the land can be seen making their way towards the fallen land. Some make the treacherous trek for glory, some for treasure, and others for reasons all their own. And some, however minuscule, follow their faith, hoping beyond measure that the key to this world’s salvation lies in wait for them.

Whatever their fates may be, one thing can be certain; this world of ours is upon the precipice of outright destruction, and to sit idly by is to tip it closer to the abyss.

Praise be to the One True God, praise be to Decus, and praise be to the brave and the bold.

– Seraph Templar Eileso Saimros (deceased)

Chapter: I

It has been nearly fifty years since the first afflicted appeared within the lands of the Venerated Republic of Decus. The ruinous byproduct of the plague known simply as the Torment, the Afflicted have reduced the world of Eden into ruin. For five decades, the Torment has plagued the lands of Vitaveus, equating to nearly two full generations of the deadly scourge wreaking havoc across the known world.

Two generations worth of misery, death, and destruction; two generations worth of madness, chaos and suffering.

Two generations worth of watching and waiting as a world upon the precipice of apocalypse slide closer and closer towards the final choking breaths of existence.

Yet to truly appreciate the End of Days and the hopeless predicament the world of Eden finds itself within today, one must go back to the beginning – the origins of the Torment, of its’ victims, and of course, its’ creators. And like any truly entertaining tale, our story begins with humble beginnings; for what appeared, at first glance, to be nothing more than a simple flu evolved into something far more sinister. The Venerated Republic of Decus, the grand benefactor and superpower of the known world of Eden, paid little heed to the fledgling days of the mysterious sickness that would later become known as the Torment. Embraced within a veritable renaissance of technological breakthroughs and cultural achievements, the Venerated Church, the monolithic ruling faction of the Republic, had never known a worthy adversary for over thirteen hundred years. Dismissing the Torment as but a common illness to be extinguished easily by the ingenuity of the Republic’s top minds, little effort was put in to handling the peculiar sickness with the severity of a plague

Embraced within a veritable renaissance of technological breakthroughs and cultural achievements, the Venerated Church, the monolithic ruling faction of the Republic, had never known a worthy adversary for over thirteen hundred years.

And, alas, such pride would be the undoing of the Republic proper. When the wretched disease had truly blossomed in its unholy glory across the lands, it had appeared that the gates of Hell itself had been opened upon the face of Eden. Countless thousands fell to the Torment in the first year alone, for the sickness did not discriminate; men, women and children had all been claimed with equal prejudice. While countless millions had simply perished due to the Torment, there had been some that had survived the initial stages of the disease – and in turn, had been subjected to a fate worse than death itself. For these forsaken souls, known colloquially as The Tormented, had turned to feral beasts, blinded with madness and rage, turning upon friend and family like wild animals. Rending their brethren countrymen from limb to limb, those unfortunate to succumb to the wounds of a Tormented would in turn become afflicted with the ungodly disease themselves. And so did the propagation of the true nature of the Torment begin; thousands upon thousands of forsaken souls cursed to spread death and disease across the Republic, their weapons of destruction not the torch or the sword, but the tooth and nail.

In the early days of the outbreak, the great Church desperately scrambled to keep order in a kingdom tainted with madness. The Apothecary Corps. worked tirelessly in an effort to understand the unholy sickness. The Holy Decusian Legion and Church Templar, the two arms of the Republic’s monolithic military mighty, were dispatched far and wide across the Republic to keep order in states that were stricken with the sickness. Most all of these efforts, however, were in vain. Where the Torment did not strike directly, its effects were felt indirectly through rioting and famine. Entire cities fell to chaos. Those states and territories that could be saved were quickly placed under martial law, while most other areas were simply lost to the wake of the Torment. In a mere six months after the first outbreaks of the Torment, nearly a quarter of the Republic has been already abandoned or lost.

The following year did not bode any better; as epidemic turned to pandemic, the Venerated Church could only watch in horror as entire city-states fell to the groves of those infected with the terrible sickness. The Torment and those afflicted with it spread like wildfire through the countryside of Vitaveus. Flooding across nation and state, town and territory; millions believed it was truly the End of Days. By the time the Church could properly utilize its forces of Templar and the Legion proper, nearly half of the continent had devolved into frenzied madness. Death ran rampant through the Republic, and millions had succumbed to the chaos which ensued.

And in the midst of this ever-encroaching darkness, this time of doubt, misery and the questioning of faith, yet another revelation emerged. For thirteen months to the day that the first known reports of the Torment emerged within the Republic, a mysterious entity arose, claiming the title of the Republic’s saviors. Inconceivably, this collective claimed to be true to life warlocks and witches; Magi, straight from the tales of Old. And true to their fantastical claims, they indeed possessed the power of what could only be described as Magic. They performed feats of unimaginable power throughout the Republic; creating food from thin air with the uttering of but a few words, healing the lame, giving voice to the mute, bestowing sight to the blind, and other veritable miracles unimaginable to the layman of the Republic. Those who would dare to raise fist or sword upon them were struck down by the fires of the arcane, and as easily as simply murmuring a few words.

For thirteen months to the day that the first known reports of the Torment emerged within the Republic, a mysterious entity arose, claiming the title of the Republic’s saviors. Inconceivably, this collective claimed to be true-to-life warlocks and witches; Magi, straight from the tales of Old.

Their greatest feat, however, had not been the miracles they performed upon the crippled, nor the ease in which they dispatched their foes. No, for their greatest power had been that of a blessing and a promise, a solemn oath to any that would seek to follow them in lieu of the Church that failed them:

Immunity from the ravishes of the Torment.

And like the rider upon the pale horse, they had indeed been capable of fulfilling such a promise; for their power was so great, even the deadliest plague known to man could not pose a threat to them. And so many elected to follow these mysterious saviors, seeking refuge among their ranks as an escape from the certain death of the Torment, swearing their fealty to these demi-gods of power never before witnessed upon the face of Eden.

Yet these supposed saviors were an evasive and suspicious lot. Their customs and methods were foreign to even the most backwater citizen of the Republic. Whilst proficient in the common tongues and languages of the lands, their native language was an amalgamation of sounds and phrases that had never before graced the modern world of Eden. And most disturbing was, when asked of their names and titles, these mysterious souls would offer no customary reply - for they did not consider themselves individuals. Instead, their answer was a simple yet cryptic phrase that would forever live in infamy…

“We are the Resolve.”

Chapter: II

The Resolve. How does one introduce the story about the most destructive entity the world has ever seen? The tale of the Resolve is one of betrayal and of wickedness, something that could very well be mistaken for fantasy, if the effects of their reprehensible deeds had not still been felt to this day. What is known of the Resolve is somewhat scarce and limited, but what information that is available paints a truly horrific picture.

In order to truly understand the Resolve, one must understand the world of Eden before their arrival. Before the Torment and the arrival of the Resolve, the idea of “Magic” in its most traditional sense was largely regarded as folklore by the layman. Across the thousands of cities and villages that comprised the Republic, the concept of magic was something that very few people put any credence into. While referenced often in the canon lore and literature of the Decusian Church, the common man had no reason to believe such fantastical Old tales were true; there had been no evidence to suggest mystical and unseen powers lay waiting to be wielded by those willing to pursue them. As such, magic and the arcane had been looked upon simply as allegories to great strength and fortitude of the founding elements of the Church and society.

Across the thousands of cities and villages that comprised the Republic, the concept of magic was something that very few people put any credence into.

It was this lack of faith, so to say, that the Resolve had preyed upon, for their arrival in the Republic was met with wonder and awe. Each member of the collective, of whom only thirteen had been seen at any given time, had been a veritable master of the arcane, wielding powers only ever dreamed of. With this fame, the Resolve set out upon a show of power that solidified their reputation as miracle workers. They moved from city to city, territory to territory, performing nothing short of wonders. Where the Church had failed to devise any sort of protection from the Torment that had been raging across the Republic, the Resolve had been able to immunize those willing to follow them with but the utterance of a few words. Their acts of benevolence quickly spread through the Republic, and with each city they visited, more and more joined their ranks as willing followers. As the year 1313 drew to a close, thousands of citizens had abandoned their lives within the Republic to join with the mysterious collective, many out of simple fear of the Torment, and some out of the desire to learn a mere fraction of their knowledge of the arcane.

Of course, it did not take long for the Church to grow discontent of the actions of these mysterious magi. The act of miracles and, of course, the wielding of Magic had been the domain of the Church for millennia – to suggest otherwise was pure blasphemy. For the only known and acknowledged practitioners of magic, in the Church’s eyes, had been the founding Templar of the Decusian Church nearly thirteen hundred years past. With each sighting of the Resolve, envoys of the Church were sent to demand that the powerful magi to share their knowledge and power with the Church under pain of death. Yet each request was met with refusal, for the Resolve had no interest in acting benevolent to the Church. With their hand forced, the Church had made a bold but necessary decision. In the city of Allamarone, a bustling trade city seated in the heart of the Midlands, an entire chapter of Church Templar, coupled with a full Clergy of Inquisitors had been dispatched to stop and detain the blaspheming Magi and their heretical followers. A force of nearly four hundred men strong, the Templar and Inquisitors represented some of the most well-trained and well-outfitted soldiers the Republic could spare. Infused with zeal, the Church’s forces moved upon Allamarone like an army laying siege, surrounding the Resolve and their traveling caravan of followers with ease. Yet their lack of humility in the face of such raw and unimaginable power would be their undoing.

The act of miracles and, of course, the wielding of Magic had been the domain of the Church for millennia – to suggest otherwise was pure blasphemy.

In but one single hour, more than three hundred Templar and Inquisitors fell to the power of but a dozen and one Resolvists, all as the collected thousands within Allamarone watched in abject horror. The wonton unleashing of death and destruction upon the hundreds of assembled Templar and Inquisitor forces had been nigh unimaginable. Onlookers had gone on to describe the scene as something out of the Old texts – a truly overwhelming sight to behold and fathom. After a hasty retreat and medical triage, less than fifty men of the original four hundred would survive the ordeal.

It was with this unabashed display of raw power (of which would later become known as the Slaughter of Allamarone) that the attention of the entire Republic had been cast upon the Resolve. Capitalizing upon their infamy, they continued westward across the Republic, fleeing the more civilized and powerful territories of the kingdom all the while bringing thousands within their folds. And as 1313 faded into history, so did the Resolve. Their exodus across the Republic had brought them far west, into portions of the kingdom that were referred to as the “Blacklands”. It was here in the Blacklands that the Torment had struck most violently, mostly due to the lack of infrastructure and overwhelming Church presence. Civilization was actively collapsing in these Blacklands, as many cities and states had been overrun by the Torment months prior, and Legion and Church forces were scarce and scattered.

And as mysteriously as they arrived, they had vanished. The Resolve, with their following of faithful, disappeared into the Blacklands in those last days of 1313, never to be seen again; yet it would not be long before they were heard of again.

Chapter: III

As the Republic came to know the Resolve’s awesome and terrible power in defeating nearly two entire outfits of Church forces, the Ecclesial Authority would respond in kind; not only against that of the Resolve threat, but against any and all whom would dare even consider wielding the powers of magic and the arcane. On Paedrig’s Day of 1313, a formal decree issued by the Venerated Church’s Council of Bishops was made; magic was considered a blight against one’s own immortal soul, and any whom dared to practice it would be subjected to execution without trial or jury. In mere days, word of this decree traveled far and wide across the far reaches of Vitaveus. What would soon follow would be the literal slaughter of thousands of Republic citizens at the hands of both the Church, the Inquisition, and even the laypeople of the Republic itself. Those that were known to study the art of the arcane were slain in the streets and alleys of the Republic, often by the hands of their own neighbors.No consideration had been given to the fact that the average arcane user’s prowess over magic had been infantile at best; if one was known or even suspected of having dabbled in the arcane arts, their life was essentially forfeit. The Church, its’ Templar along with the fabled Inquisition Corps, now roiling with excitement and bloodlust over the declaration of a “crusade of this generation”, wasted no time in bringing forth “divine justice” to those that, only a week prior, had been the very people they had been oath-bound to protect and serve. Homes, farms, shops and property of suspected magic users, now simply referred to as “witches” by those of the Cloth, were burned to the ground. Those even thought to have been associated with witches – witchkindred – were often executed in the streets as well. Only when time would permit, these collaborators would be treated with what would become customary treatment of those suspected of witchcraft: crucifixion or being burned at the stake. Literature concerning the arcane had been further deemed illegal and immoral by the marauding Church forces, and it was burned in great pyres whenever and wherever it was found, with those found in possession of it suffering a similar fate. This frenzied Inquisition against magic and the arcane had reached across every corner of the Republic, lasting for nearly two months, and was punctuated in many areas with civil unrest, rioting, rampant property damage, and other collateral crimes against humanity. This period of unrest would be come to known as the “Purge of the Witchkin”.

During the horrors inflicted upon Republic citizens during the Purge, the Resolve took a grand opportunity to make their intentions well known. In each city that the cabal had made their presence within during their trek across the kingdom a year prior, those supposedly blessed by their mysterious powers of Miracles had become stricken with misfortune. Those that the collective of warlocks and witches had healed of the turned feral and mindless. Grateful souls that were cured of blindness were stricken with horrifying visions of otherworldly creatures, speaking of dreadful sights of daemons and Ill. Those that were bestowed the gift of hearing were damned with voices beckoning them to commit atrocious deeds upon their fellow man.

Yet it was the mute whom had been chosen to deliver the Resolve’s true message to the forsaken Republic. Across the Republic, thousands of the misfortunate whom were blessed with the supposed Miracle of Speech raised their voices in unholy unison, their cacophony revealing the true nature of the Resolve’s deceit:

“The End is Nigh for the Children of Decus; may their Torment sew the seeds of the New World”.

The Church, its’ Templar along with the fabled Inquisition Corps, now roiling with excitement and bloodlust over the declaration of a “crusade of this generation”, wasted no time in bringing forth “divine justice” to those that, only a week prior, had been the very people they had been oath-bound to protect and serve.

Following the Church’s inquisition against witchcraft, a considerable void was left within the Republic. The Resolve, now having seemingly vanished into the frontier lands of the Western Territories, proved to have had been an unassailable force of unfathomable power. The Torment continued to ravage the Republic, with every alchemical and apothecarial treatment devised by the Foundry and Apothecary Corps proving to be ineffective. Magical practice and even research had been deemed wholly heretical, despite that the only known cures to the Torment had been that of the Resolve’s incantations of protection and magical spells of healing. With the Republic burning, it had become begrudgingly and painfully aware to the Ecclesial Authority that an understanding of magic was vital to the survival of the Decusian peoples, not simply for divining a cure to the Torment, but out of fear of the Resolve one day returning to conquer and subjugate an unprepared Republic with the super-weapon of magic, of which no match to existed within the armories of the Decusian war machine.

While it was an inarguable fact that, surreptitiously, select Chapters of Templar and cloisters of those within the Authority had been engaging in the state-sponsored study, documentation and perpetuation of magical practice for countless centuries, their prowess over the mystic arts were but a fraction of that seen on display by the Resolve. Furthermore, such work towards the mastery of the arcane arts could not be relegated to the shadows if any true progress was to be made – only a minute portion of the population had appeared to be “attuned” to be able to practically use and harness the powers of magic. Thus, the Church had turned to the millions of laypersons whom, just months prior, they had hunted with impunity for the mere speculation of practicing magic. A new bureaucracy would be required – one under the purview of the Church, but seemingly independent from its influence. This bureaucracy would walk the fine line between seeking salvation of the Decusian peoples form the threat of the Torment and Resolve while also keeping ever-in mind the lessons learned from the Act of Blasphemy, the infamous event that had been responsible for deeming magic heretical and a threat to the eternal salvation of mankind in the first place. A new faction would be thus be birthed, under the close supervision of the College of Bishops; a collaborative of enlightened minds whom would research, develop and perfect the magical arts; this collaborative would be come to known formally as the Consortium of Mages.

Magical practice and even research had been deemed wholly heretical, despite that the only known cures to the Torment had been that of the Resolve’s incantations of protection and magical spells of healing.

As 1313 came to a close, a new day and age of the Republic had come to pass. A kingdom divided, both literally and figuratively, constituted the New Republic. With the western half of Vitaveus considered Blacklands, the Eastern Baronies were but a shadow of their former self. The Church, whose favor and power had never been so solidified since the days of Old, reigned over every aspect of life with an air of authoritarianism never before witnessed. Following the Darkest Dawn, a tentative sense of order had been regained, paid for in the blood of tens of thousands of citizens. All across Vitaveus, even the most progressive Decusian reverted to their faith; for if such a thing as Magic existed, undoubtedly the other stories of Old were not folklore, but accounts of reality in the flesh.

And thus, the word of the Church had now been unquestionable. And it was with this unquestionable word that the Church did rebuild the ailing Republic, solidifying its’ control over the Eastern Baronies, shoring up the borders of the Midlands, and in but a few short years, setting its sights farther. By 1315, with the Baronies under firm martial control, the Church now focused its attention to reclaiming control over the entirety of the Midlands, intent on reclaiming absolute control over the continent by any means necessary.

Chapter: IV

Blood streamed down her face, yet she did not seem to notice. The heavy golden armor, boasting proudly the embossed emblem of the Decusian Holy Legion, protested against her fatigued body. Her arm writhed in excruciating pain, undoubtedly broken in more than two separate places. Her body pleaded with her to yield, yet her mind knew better than to concede; to stop was to die, die like the others, die like everyone else in this god forsaken world called Eden…She would survive, however she could. It was her will.

The midnight storm poured rain down upon her that had blurred her vision, yet what lay ahead of her was unmistakable. Billowing flames reached high into the heavens, licking the storm clouds in defiance, resembling an insolent child in midst of a tantrum. Despite the disturbing scene, she felt relief; for escape from this gauntlet of horrors lay just within reach. She staggered, tripped, and hobbled, nearly losing her footing in the soft mud beneath her.

Various buildings and charred rubble lay in a small meadow no more than a half mile away. What was once a small village was now engulfed in flames, the heavy downpour having little effect on the raging inferno. The scattered buildings had been nothing more than hovels and shanties, a collection of shacks that comprised one of the many humble farming communities that littered the Midlands’ rolling countryside. Now, it was naught but a graveyard; a place where the dying had bid their final farewell to the cruel land of Eden and went on to the worlds that lay ahead.

She knew this to be fact, for Legionnaire Alana Morgan, Twelfth Battalion of the Twenty Fourth Vesica Brigade, had been personally responsible in helping assemble that graveyard. For this particular village had been situated upon a stretch of land on the wrong side of the Badlands line, and thus, anything found breathing was to be considered a threat.

Considered…afflicted.

Suddenly, the screams erupted behind her again. The familiar feeling of adrenaline flooding her body returned, and she managed to increase her pace. Her legs burned with pain and her arm exploded in writhing agony, yet she continued on, for the sounds of screams quickly turned into the sounds of footfalls; footfalls closing in behind her. Terror filled her heart and soul, daring not to look back. Her entire Company had been decimated in this god-forsaken shithole, and undoubtedly, they were now behind her amongst the undying…the unliving. The cold midnight air burned her lungs, pleading her to stop.

More voices joined the unholy screams as Alana pawed at her armor, attempting to loosen it from her person. Only through her ragged gasps of breath had she begun to realize that her own guttural screams had joined the choir of voices that pursued her. Just as a frantic set of footsteps grew in volume over her right shoulder, she managed to jostle free the buckles holding her pauldrons in place; plates of tempered steel slid free from her shoulders and arms, tumbling into the soft mud below. Her pace quickened as she heard the clatter of the armor make contact with one of her pursuers, the footfalls turning to a loud tumble and labored scream of anger.

Her entire Company had been decimated in this god-forsaken shithole, and undoubtedly, they were now behind her amongst the undying…the unliving.

Sensing a momentary second of reprieve, Alana worked to manipulate the leather bindings that held her cuirass firmly to her chest, and allowed herself a quick glance behind…

Seven figures gave chase to her, sprinting at full speed. They were no more than fifty yards behind her and were gaining quickly. The moonlight did little more than illuminate their silhouettes due to the storm churning above, yet the visage was enough of a sight to strike fear into the deepest recesses of her soul. With trembling hands, Alana loosened the cuirass from her chest, shedding it off like a discarded shirt. A hopeless scream erupted from deep inside her, and somewhere, she found the strength to run even faster.

Rounding the village, she could now feel the heat of the raging fires upon her blood-soaked face, and, distantly, a sound that graced her ears like nothing else could. Approximately fifteen horses had been tethered to a large Yew tree upon the northern outskirts of the former village, and now they stood no more than a hundred yards away. One in particular had caught her eye; a sorrel stallion neighing in angered protest of the storm above. It was her Company commandant who thought it to be wise to scout the village and farm on foot, mostly as to avoid getting a mare’s foot stuck in a rabbit hole or soft patch of mud. Consequently, it was a tactical mistake that lead to the ambush and subsequent deaths of her entire company. Ironically, it may be the one thing that could save her yet.

She quickened her pace. She passed burning embers and the ruins of what were once homes. The scent of burning flesh pierced her nostrils, yet she paid little attention to it. Her voice was coarse, and her legs burned. Escape lay just in reach, and as she reached the Yew tree, her eyes locked upon a silhouette sitting with its back against the tree’s trunk. She recognized the figure as the young recruit they had picked up back in Taltha, a young teen with strawberry blonde hair and freckles lining his nose. He was assigned sentry duty in order to keep an eye on the mounts while the others scouted the meadow and farmland for the afflicted. Upon hearing Alana’s labored approached, the teen suddenly stirred to his feet. It had not taken long for him to make out the half-dozen or more figures giving her chase, and the teen stammered impotently about, his legs paralyzed in fear.

Yet Alana wasted no time. Her shaking hands grasped the leather tether of the sorrel stallion that caught her eye moments before, straining to untie it. The horse neighed and snorted, as if as desperate as Alana to leave as well. The young sentry was still petrified, unsure as to what to do. He rushed to the Alana’s side, only to be answered with incomprehensible babble and a sharp push, sending him to the soft ground below. It was only when Alana’s pursuers wailed their ungodly screams that the teen realize what was truly at hand. He scrambled madly for the nearest tethered mount, clawing at the hemp bindings with shaking hands.

A sheer sense of terror filled Alana as she manipulated the rope from the stallion’s neck, scurrying to mount the steed. To her right, the sentry fumbled with his own attempts, yet to no avail; his shaking hands had naught the dexterity to unfasten such knots in haste. The afflicted that had given her chase for more than a mile now were no more than fifteen yards away, parting the high grasses of the meadow in pursuit of the injured Legionnaire, the scent of blood filling their nostrils and frenzied lust driving their every move.

Consequently, it was a tactical mistake that lead to the ambush and subsequent deaths of her entire company. Ironically, it may be the one thing that could save her yet.

The sentry screamed, looking to Alana. He turned on his heel, making a sprint towards her, his arms outstretched in pleading terror. The grasses surrounding the Yew tree parted, and from within came spewing forth the afflicted ones; her former comrades, now mindless husks driven by one simple emotion;

Rage.

Without thinking, Alana whipped the steed to the left, striking off in a gallop. In one moment of sublime chaos, the scene had all came to a crashing climax. The sorrel stallion Alana sat upon neighed in both fright and surprise as the sky above cracked with ear-shattering thunder, all the while the screams of her former brethren coalesced into a blood-curdling rapture. Yet despite the cacophony of madness that filled her ears, Alana could make out one last distinct sound above the rest of the chaos; a gurgling, wet cry that that she would never forget for the rest of her tortured life. It was the sound of blood racing into the undeveloped lungs of a young man that would never see the age of fifteen; one that would never lay with a woman, or lay claim to his own land. It was the sound of surprise, terror, and agony.

It was the sound of death; it was the sound of abandonment.

Chapter: V

By 1320, the continent known as Vitaveus, home of the Venerated Republic, had been divided. Maps of the continent pre-dating the Torment displayed, quite proudly, a single unified nation of numerous territories and states that had stretched across one mighty landmass. By early 1320, however, cartographers had begun to paint a new picture of the Republic, a land divided not by war or political agendas, but by famine and death. Upon this map had been three boundaries, each with its own story to tell.Upon the eastern side of the continent lay what was known as the Eastern Baronies. This collection of states and territories represented the culmination of the Republic’s culture, faith, and technology, and it was from here where the roots in which the kingdom grew from centuries ago. The eldest and most influential cities in the Republic had been located on the eastern side of the continent, branching outwards from the Republic's former capitol of Tor, known colloquially as the First City.

The Eastern Baronies had been rendered relatively safe as early as 1315 by the combined efforts of the Church, Legion and Inquisition. Before the Torment, the cities of the Baronies were strong and powerful in their own rights and, for the most part, were able to contain the Torment during the early months of 1313 as well as the events following the Darkest Dawn and the Witchkin Purge. Coupled with support from the Church and Legion, the Baronies were spared much of the horror witnessed in other parts of the Republic. By 1320, life had been tolerable in these areas of the Republic, if not for suffering the authoritarian rule of the Church, overcrowding in most all of the larger Municipalities and city-states, and the occasional food shortage due to disruptions in the supply lines from the Midlands.

Most of the eldest cities in the Republic had been located on the eastern side of the continent, branching outwards from the coastal capitol of Tor, known colloquially as the First City.

Somewhere between the Western Territories and Eastern Baronies laid thin designation of land that had stretched many thousands of miles, reaching from the northern mountains to the southern coasts of the continent. This area was known as the Midlands, and it was here that the first efforts in retaking the lost lands of the Republic took place. By 1320, the Midlands were still a chaotic and dangerous place, serving as the veritable border between the civilized and safe sections of the Republic, and the Western Territories that had been hit the hardest by the Torment. Most all military units in the Republic that were not tasked with peacekeeping in the Baronies had been commissioned to the Midlands to secure a foothold. This foothold would serve as a base of operations for the grand task of exploring the Blacklands of the Western Territories, both in an attempt to recover the lost portions of the Republic as well as to hunt down the Resolve. Additionally, the Midlands served as an imperative strategical asset to the Republic, for without their workable arable land and the significant amount of agricultural products it produced, the Baronies would collapse under it's own unsustainable needs of food.

As for father west, little information concerning the fate of the Western Territories was available in 1320. Handfuls of refugees had occasionally made their way into Midlands between 1315 to 1320, harboring tales of horror and madness; where the Torment hadn’t claimed lives, lawlessness and civil unrest had. What little presence the Church and Legion had in the Western Territories prior to the onset of the Torment and the horrors that followed had been futile, as most battalions had been cut off from orders, supplies and reinforcements since the middle of 1313. The Western Territories were, essentially, a no-man’s land, a portion of the civilized world that had succumbed to anarchy, plague and chaos. Where little bastions of order did remain, they operated without the official guidance or procedure from the Church proper.

By 1320, the Midlands were still a chaotic and dangerous place, serving as the veritable border between the civilized and safe sections of the Republic, and the Western Territories that had been hit the hardest by the Torment

When asked of the Resolve, the only answer refugees of the Western Territories could ever give had been that they had gone west, farther and farther into the horizon, leaving a trail of misery and destruction behind.

Intent on both re-securing the lost territories of the Republic and to track down the insidious cult, the Church and Legion worked diligently to fortify their positions in the Midlands, and to prepare to embark on a crusade unlike the continent had seen since the ancient days of the Reclamation. By 1324, the first expeditions were made into the Blacklands of the Western Territories by battalions of both Church Templar and Legionnaires. These expeditions would continue for nearly an entire decade, yielding little gains and offering even more losses. Yet there had been some headway; for with passing year, a scant few towns and territories were retaken, the veritable frontlines slowly moved farther and farther west. Slowly but surely the campaign to reclaim Vitaveus sauntered forth, deeper into the ruined lands of the Western Territories and in to the unknown. By 1322, it had even been believed that one day Republic forces may even reach Angelspire herself; a monolithic construction seated in some of the farthest reaches of Collatia, a territory deep into the Western Territories, and for many, represented the idea that the Republic could in fact reclaim order and reel back from the edge of anarchy.

In the year of 1333, however, that belief had been crushed by a peculiar report from a collection of Republic colonies far to the east of the continent of Vitaveus, situated upon a chain of islands known colloquially as the End of the World…

Chapter: I

Nearly twenty years after the Torment had emerged within the territories of the Venerated Republic, scattered reports of curious happenings far to the east of had emerged. These reports originated from three distant territories set upon a collection of landmasses known simply as “The End of the World”, the farthest lands ever explored by Republic expeditions. Only three meager territories had been erected in these peculiar lands, mostly due to its inaccessibility from Republic forces proper. These holdings consisted of the small and humble island of New Dardain, the sprawling military territory of Ironhollow Downs, of which housed thousands of Legion soldiers, and the grand Municipality of MacArthur’s Gate, a clerical city- state that stood as the shining beacon and pinnacle of Decusian civilization within the End of the World. While seemingly irrelevant dots on a map compared to the sprawling might of the Republic’s presence on Vitaveues, the Decusian presence here in the End of the World still boasted a modest fifty thousand souls.

Since the emergence of the Torment, these territories were considered a last option for a dying Republic, a contingency plan that the Ecclesial Authority it would use to evacuate the Bishop College and whatever prominent Prelacy families of the Republic they could cram into transports in the unlikely event the Baronies had ever begun a death spiral. These three bastions of hope had stood as a last-chance scenario for the Republic, as there had never been a report of the Torment crossing the vast stretches of ocean that separated Vitaveus from the End of the World. Many citizens had not even ever heard of the existence of these distant colonies, for Vitaveus had been so massive and so sprawling that many could not even conceive of lands existing outside of it. Suppression of lands outside that of Vitaveus had also been a policy of the Church and Authority, for the End of the World contained its own mysteries; people of different cultures and races, some friendly, some hostile, and all practicing beliefs and religions far from that of the Decusian faith. Most notably of these had been the curious Kingdom of Bhaskar, whose people had looked far different than any typical Decusian had.

Many citizens had not even ever heard of the existence of these distant colonies, for Vitaveus had been so massive and so sprawling that many could not even conceive of lands existing outside of it.

In 1333, reports of odd sightings had made its way from MacArthur’s Gate to the Grand Collegiate of Bishops in Tor. Reports of peculiar afflictions of both the mind and soul, odd sightings of errant mages, and tales of unexplained deaths began to fill the occasional status reports that were ferried across the Pearl Sea. Before long, the true severity of the situation had reared its ugly head; it was believed that the Resolve, the mysterious cult that had not been seen nor heard from in almost twenty years, had returned in force, and in one of the most unlikely places in all of Eden.

The Venerated Church, facing an impossible situation upon the mainland, had come to a hasty decision concerning these newfound reports; a surge of support, comprised of the Legion, the Church Templar, the Foundry, and even the Consortium would be sent to solidify the Republic holdings of New Dardain, the Gate, and Ironhollow Downs. Thousands of faithful Decusians had been shipped across the great sea, their perilous journey marking the first days of what would later be known as the fall of the Republic.

Before long, the true severity of the situation had reared its ugly head; it was believed that the Resolve, the mysterious cult that had not been seen nor heard from in almost twenty years, had returned in force, and in one of the most unlikely places in all of Eden.

Upon their arrival in these Old Colonies, as they were colloquially referred to as by the first wave of military reinforcement send to the End of the World, the Republic forces had found themselves braving the unknowns of a land unfamiliar to them. Dozens upon dozens of Clerical and Legion Chapters, infused and supported with the magical support of the Consortium, had been sent immediately eastward from the Decusian port of entry in New Dardain and towards the fabled MacArthur’s Gate, to reinforce and hold the city-state from the rumors of a trifling Resolve threat.

What these fresh reinforcements had found there, however, was something they had surely not expected…

The reports of the Resolve had indeed been true; the cultists had re-emerged in the world of Eden, and with them, an old reign of terror had been unleashed upon a new land. Yet this time, the Resolve had seemingly grown from a simple cult into a veritable army. MacArthur’s Gate had been a literal war zone, besieged by not only the Resolve warlocks, but by the fury of Hell itself. Countless thousands of Legionnaires and Templars had fallen in their efforts to hold the Gate from the Resolve’s new unholy army, of which had been populated with mind-melting horrors of daemonic taint. These horrifying creatures of both man and beast laid a never-ending assault upon MacArthur’s Gate, nearly taking the city-state if not for the sudden influx of new reinforcements sent from Vitaveus.

Chapter: II

News of the findings within the End of the World had been sent immediately back to Vitaveus, directly to the Ecclesial Authroity, and with the utmost secrecy the Republic could muster. Abhorred by the new situation, a bold decision had been enacted by the Authority; an overwhelming surge of forces would be sent to the End of the World, to aid in the task of securing the Republic’s holdings there and to face the Resolve thread head-on. In mere weeks, numerous thousands of the Republic war-machine, consisting of everything from Templar, Legionnaires, Inquisitors and Consortium Magi were shipped off to the Gate in dizzying numbers. Yet it was further reasoned that for every Clerical Chapter or Legion Cohort sent to the End of the World, countless hundreds of laymen would be needed to support their efforts within an untamed and unclaimed landmass that the Republic held such a meager hold over.

Lotteries were soon held in the major cities of the Eastern Baronies, specifically those suffering from overcrowding and scarcity in resources. Presented with an opportunity to leave the overcrowded cities of the Baronies, countless men and women jumped at the offer to serve the Republic by making the exodus to the End of the World. Under the guise they would be assisting in the establishment of several new agricultural colonies upon island holdings in the Pearl Sea, these unknowing souls were shuttled to the Old Colonies by the thousand, only to land upon the docks of New Dardain, and forced to face the grim truth of the reality that laid before them…

Presented with an opportunity to leave the overcrowded cities of the Baronies, countless men and women jumped at the offer to serve the Republic by making the exodus to the End of the World.

…they were but cogs in a great machine, serving to stave off the inevitable slaughter of their countrymen in lands foreign and hostile through all manner of servitude and support.

It was a task that had truly been futile from its inception, and in the following months of the ill-fated colonial surge, these Forsaken Souls had become keenly aware of their predicament. Slowly but surely, the situation within the colonies had begun to come to light to the citizens who were unceremoniously dumped upon the shores of the End of the World. Those that had been sold on the once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to help develop new agricultural colonies for the ailing Republic quickly became aware that there was much more going on in the End of the World than a simple colonization; a new war against the Resolve was being fought, one that the Republic was losing sorely – and one they had been unknowingly and unwillingly been conscripted to.

Yet despite such deception, many brave souls answered the call of their Decusian brethren. While MacArthur’s Gate held out against the seemingly endless siege of Resolve forces, the colonist forces worked to support the Republic war-efforts in every way they could. In early 1334, after having been besieged for 324 days straight, the battle for MacArthur’s Gate had experienced it is first day of reprieve. The combined efforts of the Church, Legion, Consortium and the colonial forces had succeeded in supporting a force within the Old Colonies strong enough to resist the efforts of the Resolve – for the Republic, now enforced with magical practitioners of their own, had been able to prove far greater of a match for the cabal of warlocks than they had thirty years prior. With continued support from Vitaveus, it had seemed that victory was even possible, as with every passing day, the forces of the Resolve were beaten back, albeit sometimes merely by feet, further into the unknown lands of the End of the World.

Those that had been sold on the once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to help develop new agricultural colonies for the ailing Republic quickly became aware that there was much more going on in the End of the World than a simple colonization; a new war against the Resolve was being fought, one that the Republic was losing sorely – and one they had been unknowingly and unwillingly been conscripted to.

But before absolute victory could truly be achieved or even hinted at, a cataclysmic shift of power within the Republic clergy had occurred, one that served to stop the Colonial success dead in its’ tracks. A new Archbishop had been declared by the Ecclesial Authority, and with him, a new era of misery would be birthed. Capitalizing upon the fears and doubts of many within the Church, the new Archbishop had been able to assume control of the Bishop College, the hearts and minds of many influential Prelacy families, and a large majority of the Ecclesial Authority.

And so it came to pass that Archbishop Karl Anslem’s first executive decision as the Venerated Republic’s newest Archbishop was to immediately suspend all support efforts to the End of the World. Dissenters within the Authority and all four Factions of the Republic were numerous but were quickly quelled through the application of the Authority’s Diaconate Templar, the clergy’s personal army of specialized shock-troops. With the stroke of a quill, thousands of Republic military along with the supporting Colonial effort had been left to fend for themselves – cut off from any future reinforcement or aid from Vitveus.

Thus began the era of the Great Abandonment.

Chapter: III

“The Legionnaires went ahead, first breaching the exterior gate, then climbing over the rock, rubble, fallen trees and charred bodies that had served to block the main roadway into the town proper. I along with half of the remaining forces of the three-hundred and fifth Templar stayed behind as to ensure they were not flanked while making their way into the town. From the exterior, Subodh looked ghastly; fires ravished the rooftops of nearly all the huts and shanties, and the big cherry trees that lined the north and east sides of the settlement were up strung with the corpses of the fallen – hundreds by my count. It looked like Hel on earth.”

“We held our ground as the Legionnaires cleared the way. There wasn’t any resistance. The Colonial cohort followed them. You could say by this point we were desperate for help, and those colonists had some mettle to them, and with the majority of our forces re-assigned to MacArthur’s Gate, we didn’t have a lot of options left. Once the Colonial forces made their way in to the village safely, I and the 305th followed up the rear, ensuring that we were not attacked from behind.”

“I first noticed the construct I have been tasked to write this statement about immediately after making my way into the center of the city from the western gate. From the horizon, it was impossible to see – at the time, I thought it was just due to smoke obscuring its view. Now, looking back, I am sure it was witchery cloaking it from view outside of being directly atop it. The constructs themselves towered a good three, perhaps four stories above the tallest building in the village, and they appeared to be crafted from a dark stone that looked unfamiliar and ancient. The construction took the form of a pair of towers, with an open space between them large enough to fit three wagons wide. At the base of each tower was amassed the remains of dozens, if not hundreds, of both Bhaskarians and Decusians. They looked fresh – perhaps only days old, but they were in bad sorts; many appeared to have been in various states of dismemberment and mutilation.”

“As we stood in awe of the sight before us, we were set upon by the enemy unprepared. I personally witnessed four Templar fall to the hands of the Resolve’s foot-soldiery in under a blink of an eye. Whatever obscuring magic had kept us from being able to observe the towering monolith had seemingly also concealed the Resolvist swordsmen. More than five dozen of the ambushers had been lying in wait for us, and even with our numbers of more than a hundred, we were sorely outmatched. Despite this, we managed to hold our own through the intial ambush and managed some semblance of a defensive line, no less than fifty feet from the base of the construct. As we tried to fight our way out of the square and retreat, I bore witness to the construct reacting to the scene at hand – for every Decusian whom fell, activity began to stir between the two towers of the construct – as if a fierce wind began to pick up, isolated solely between the two towers. As more of our Colonials, Templars and Legionnaires fell, the swirling activity between the towers grew with intensity, until light and colors materialized out of thin air.”

“I had then managed to make out the visage of a hooded figure at the foot of the tower, coalescing from within the swirling wind and materializing colors. Behind the figure, the outline of a beast – of whose size and proportions that I still to this day dare not fathom more than a glancing thought of – began to take shape. It was then that I had come to realize the purpose of the tower constructs – it was undoubtedly a magical gateway of some sort, not unlike those I once observed a Consortium Arcanist summon, only much, much larger. Yet where the gateway led, I dare not venture a guess, lest I may lose whatever vestiges of sanity I have left within my shattered psyche.”

“Before I could even utter a word of warning to the others around me, Seraph Landcaster and a dozen of the 305th sprung into action. I recognized a few of them from around Ironhollow – they had been following around the Seraph for weeks prior, ever since his arrival in the Downs, and they revered him like the second coming of Decus. They moved with purpose, making a hole through the Resolve swordsmen and toward the construct. Somehow, against all odds, they made it to the foot of the gate, and without a moment’s hesitation, threw themselves into the maw.”

“Immediately after the Seraph and his men breached the gate from our side, I, along with many, had been knocked to the ground in a gust of wind and blinding light emanating from the construct. It was then I heard it. We all did – the howl of the beast. It was unnatural, feral, and overtaken with rage. It is my solemn duty to attest that I believe the being to have been Daemonic in nature, and that it had been the Resolve’s intention to lead us into the village to help facilitate the creature’s entry into our realm through the slaughter of wholesale slaighter of faithful Decusians. If it were not for the actions of the Seraph and his brave fellows, I cannot fathom what may have happened if the beast were to have had walked through the gate.”

“Under pain of death, I admit to the council that I, High Inquisitor Aeneas Eleutherios’, had then led a full-scale retreat from the village of Subodh. Moments after our remaining forces had made their way out of the village, what felt like a massive earthquake shook the entire peninsula. In the calamity of the situation, I was knocked unconscious. I awoke hours later to my brethren pulling me through a meadow surrounding the outskirts of Niranjan, which we had later found to be completely abandoned…”

“…and so on and so forth.”

The Consul raised his head up from the statement before him, casting his gaze upon the assembled souls with a callous, cold look. Methodically, he folded his hands over the yellowed parchment, awaiting a response. He cast a harsh look upon the assembled two hundred or so Bishops in attendance, seated upon ascending concentric rows of thrones in a semi-circle around the dais he stood upon. The Consul's gray eyes moved to each one of them for a fleeting moment, as if challenging them to speak up. Satisfied with the assembled silence, the Consul took the Inquisitor’s report had had been reading from, folded it once, and returned it to the brass strongbox that had been used to transport it to the Ecclesial Council for dissemination.

After a long moment of stunned silence, a wavering voice reverberated through the Eccesial chamber. Bishop Erasmus’ accent bore a thick Volgen slur, the words emanating from his weathered lips shaky and unsure.

“A Daemon then. Is this what the Inquisitor claims in his statement, Consul? Can it be true?”

The Consul adjusted his monocle and stole a look to the far end of the auditorium chamber – to the general direction of the elder Bishop’s throne arrangement - before speaking.

“The only Seraph known to have been physically present for the events in Subdoh was that of Seraph Landcaster. As the Authority dictates, the testament of an ordained Seraph is needed when concerning such sensitive matters – the word of a simple Inquisitor is not sufficient evidence to make a ruling in this matter. And for good cause, my excellency - I've no reason to believe the ravings of an obvious madman.”

Bishop Erasmus nodded politely, lowering his gaze.

“Whatever “beast” was witnessed by our forces in the old colonies was no doubt parlor tricks. Smoke and mirrors by the Resolve – or even more likely, at the hands of Consortium Apostates breaking rank the moment they tasted a bit of freedom from Republic rule.”

A voice from one of the lower seated rows, this time delicate and refined, broke the momentary silence. A Bishop from Nemus, by the name of Aristarchus.

“And only twenty-seven souls of this Inquisitor's patron Clergy are accounted for, Consul?”

What could be interpreted only as a stifled sneer appeared briefly across the Consul’s chiseled face. He drew a long breath, and then submitted his reply.

“Twenty-seven, aye your excellence. Of which eighteen remain alive as of today. All of them properly incarcerated for the time being, as mentioned in my brief prior to the Inquisitor’s read testimony. As I explained earlier, it is the will of the Archbishop himself that these fellows are inspected by the Diaconate, and perhaps even the Garden, for fear of heretical thought and tainted souls. No doubt these men, including the Inquisitor, have been through much in their time in the Old Colonies, yet such incoherent and false ramblings concerning Daemons and the occult simply -cannot- be excused, even when made by those suffering from the mental traumas of war.”

Aristarchus brought a slender hand to his bottom lip, running the tip of his thumb across it. The bishop’s eyes darted to and fro, a nervous look filling them. A few long moments of silence filled the chambers. After what seemed like an eternity, the Consul nodded to himself, gathering his assembled materials. Standing from the throne he had been situated upon, he had looked upon the assembled bishops with little sign of reverence. He spoke yet again, this time with forcefulness.

“It is the conclusion of the Consul's office that the College disregards, in its entirety, Inquisitor Eleutherios’ sworn statement concerning the happenings in Subodh. He was obviously under significant duress during his time within the Old Colonies, and his testament is evident of such. Notwithstanding is he and his men’s disobedience in returning to Vitaveus after the Authority’s direct order of non-contact with the Republic proper. The Inquisitor is tainted with madness, as were his compatriots, and they were all driven to abandon their duties in the End of the World when word reached them of temporary suspension of Colonial support. Which I may remind you, has saved countless thousands of gold in the last month alone…”

The assemblage responded with a few hushed whispers and ramblings. The Consul continued.

“It is the Consul's opinion, and coincidentally that of the Archbishop's office, that this Republic has lost sacrificed enough lives in the pursuit of fallacies and fairy tales. Whatever “beast” was witnessed by our forces in the old colonies was no doubt parlor tricks. Smoke and mirrors by the Resolve – or even more likely, at the hands of Consortium Apostates breaking rank the moment they tasted a bit of freedom from Republic rule. There is no proof that any arcanist upon the face of Eden, not even the Resolve cultists, possess the power to traverse realms and summon forth the Dae’. To even suggest that a mortal could hold such power is blasphemy! We have sacrificed far too much in the name of old superstitious tales of mystical artifacts that bend the powers of both Heaven and Hel - it is time that we put the Old Colonies behind us, once and for all.”

The Consul looked across the College of Bishops once more, and without another word, turned towards the council exit. His footsteps reverberated upon the marble floor of the hall and across the sprawling center dais, accentuating the stammering point he had made moments prior. Making his way across to the other side of the auditorium, he continued his pointed remarks.

“Our work in the Old Colonies is over. It is time to focus on the wellbeing of our Republic rather than expending resources halfway across the world. MacArthur’s Gate has, and will always be, a fool’s errand, and -as- -we- -all- -know-, the Archbishop nor the Authority tolerate fools gladly. With that said, it is of the opinion of this Consul that any future returning members of the Colonial efforts in the End of the World are never given such a platform as we have been forced to entertain in this unsavory business with High Inquisitor Eleutherios.”

More hushed whispers. The Consul craned his neck back towards the College of Bishops, as if challenging them to speak up in defiance. Satisfied that there was no argument, the Consul continued. As his free hand reached out towards the doors of the auditorium, a voice arose from the sea of silence. It was soft, yet rang of confidence, coming from somewhere far in the upper-echelons of the auditorium seats.

“Consul, I beg of thee, a final question?”

The Consul stopped in his tracks, gritting his teeth. Taking a moment to adjust his monocle, he turned. Nearly in unison, the assembled Bishops followed suit, craning their necks to acknowledge the new voice. Far in the top rows of the auditorium, reserved for the lowliest and least important clergymen of the College, stood a middle-aged man of average height and import. From initial appearances, he bore the look of a humble man, foregoing many of the elaborate trappings, baubles, adornments, and jewelry of his brethren clergymen, and instead opting to ordain the simplest standard trappings of a Templar, save the identifying tunic and cape of his proper station of Bishop. He had undoubtedly been a serviceman once, his posture exuding a confidence that can only be earned in battle, complete with a stony expression that exuded humility but also demanded recognition.

The Consul wavered slightly at the sight of the Bishop yet regained his composure quickly.

“Yes, my excellency?”

The words were prompt and spat out quickly. The Bishop replied.

“The Seraph in the Inquisitor’s report. Is there any news concerning his fate?”

The Consul shifted in place. His gaze averted towards the ground for a moment, attempting to stifle a sneer, at last recognizing the Bishop of whom had asked him the question.

“No, your excellency. Your so-…ahem…Seraph Landcaster remains absent without leave.”

Bishop Johan Landcaster kept his stern, stoic expression. He had already known the answer the question he had posed – his own flesh and blood had been named in the Inquisitor’s report as being responsible for closing the Resolve’s summoning gate, no doubt sparing thousands a fate worse than death, and he no doubt met his untimely demise right there and then in Subdoh. Yet his question was not for his own sake, but more so for his assembled brethren – in the gathering of the hundreds of Bishops that now sat within the auditorium, he had wanted to pique every one’s attention to the fact that not only had his very own son had been regarded as a hero in the Inquisitor's sworn statement, but that a Seraph of the Decusian Church had still been unaccounted for. His strategy has worked; nearly all his fellow clergymen had now looked upon him with curiosity. Taking advantage of the moment, Bishop Landcaster moved towards the auditorium isle, and descended the stairs to the floor. He rubbed his chin pointedly, feigning a moment of pondering thought – in truth, he had rehearsed this moment for days, and rubbing his chin had helped calm his nerves.

The Bishop paused for a moment as he approached the auditorium dais, looking upon the portrait that lined auditorium’s far wall. The scene depicted Archangel Decus extending his outstretched hands to a gathered assemblage of men and women. The scene dated back centuries, and this take upon it had been more than a hundred years old itself. It was truly a masterpiece in every sense of the word and looking upon it had always instilled within the Bishop a sense of reverence and spirituality. Prying his eyes away from the work of art, his eyes rested back upon the Consul. With renewed vigor, his next words came out as softly as his original inquiry, but with enough volume to ensure that not a single world was misunderstood by the assembled clergy.

“And of the Garden’s Assets, Consul? Did they return to Vitaveus with Inquisitor Eleutherios’ men? Have they reported their own findings as to what is happening in the Old Colonies?”

The Consul physically reeled. A ruckus enveloped the chambers, the assembled Bishops surprised by the accusation.

“Wh..what are you talking abo-…”

``Before I could even utter a word of warning to the others around me, Seraph Landcaster and a dozen of the 305th sprung into action. I recognized a few of them from around Ironhollow – they had been following around the Seraph for weeks prior, ever since his arrival in the Downs, and they revered him like the second coming of Decus.``

The Bishop interrupted, bridging the gap between he and the Consul across the dais. He gave the Consul no time to think, hammering him with another question, his tone of voice now becoming louder and more accusatory.

“There are still those that serve the Church without question, Consul – those that would report when even the Authority steps outside of its’ purview. ”

The Bishop clenched his fist, now standing face to face with the Consul.

“Answer the question. Has the Garden been opened without the College’s knowledge? Has a Tender been commissioned without approval? Have we turned so far from Decus that we now openly wield the tools of the enemy without so much as an acknowledgement given to the ruling council of this very Authority we claim to hold over this Republic!?”

The Consul fumbled with his materials, parchments spilling to the floor. He turned quickly on his heel, moving towards the auditorium exit, intent on escaping…

…only to be brought to his knees with a swift elbow to the kidney by Bishop Landcaster. Surprised gasps filled the chambers as the Bishop grabbed the back of the Consul’s crushed velvet tunic, pulling his slack, lithe body up from the marble floor, turning him to face his brethren Bishops. The clamoring of plate mail and the unsheathing of swords reverberated through the auditorium as four heavily armored Diaconate Templar rushed forth from their guard positions on either side of the auditorium, moving in to intervene. Unphased, Landcaster unsheathed a stiletto from beneath his own chainmail tunic, placing the tip beneath the Consul’s chin – the Templar guards stopped in their tracks, uncertain of their next move.

“Answer me, Consul. Answer the College. In the name of your savior, in the name of the Archangel, speak truth, lest I bloody the floors of this Chamber, so help me Decus.”

The Consul shrieked, kicking his feet about. Cowardice consumed him, and he began stammering.

“U..Uh…Unaccounted for! The Tender is presumed dead…lost with the others!”

The Bishop at last pushed the Consul away, sneering in disgust. Clamoring outrage washed over the auditorium as the assembled Bishops reacted to the outrageous news. The four Diocanate Templar rushed over the Consul’s aid, blades drawn and pointed in the direction of Bishop Landcaster. Two of the Templar had even made steps towards Landcaster in an ill-conceived notion of attempting to arrest him – which they had immediately reconsidered as the assembled College of Bishops shouted them down in anger.

“It is not the right Archbishop to authorize the release of a Tender upon any lands of Eden without express approval of the College, Consul! You would have us believe that the Archbishop is convinced that MacArthur’s Gate is a worthless stack of stone and mortar in the ass-end of the world, yet he sends a certified Diabolist and a coven of Witches half-way across the world there for no apparent reason!?”

The Consul squealed as the Diaconate Templar ushered him to the exit. His voice came out in a scratchy squeak, barely audible over the roaring clamor of the auditorium chambers.

“You question the Archbishop, Landcaster!?”

The audacity of the Consul, even when faced with the chaotic and dangerous situation before him had somehow emboldened the Bishop. Taking an armored fist to his chain-mail tunic, he pounded his chest three times in a traditional Templar “psych-up” technique and then raised his voice to near shouting-levels, making his final enamored plea to the assembled clergy.

“My brethren, I ask of thee: why has the Garden been commissioned by the Archbishop without regard to our Holy Sacrament? The Garden Tenders and their accursed progeny have always been, and shall always be, options of -absolute- last resort. To use them with such blatant disregard to our own moral convictions and Ecclesial rules is nigh blasphemy. And I ask further, my brethren, why are we so hasty to dismiss the word of an Inquisitor of our Faith – the very vanguard of our Republic against the taint of heresy and evil? Why have we have abandoned our forces in the End of the World just when they had begun making progress against the forces of the Resolve, all under the guise of our efforts being misguided and futile? No less than a year ago, we assembled here in this very chamber to send thousands of our brothers and sisters to face to keep our mortal enemies from obtaining the Relic enshrined within MacArthur’ Gate. We have sacrificed thousands in the name of the Old Texts, out of fear of what may become of us all if our enemies acquire the Doctrine. I ask of thee, my brethren, when did we lose our faith in the founding principles of what makes us Decusians? When did we turn from the lessons of the One True God!?”

The roaring clamor of the auditorium was now at a fever-pitch. Bishops young and old joined in on the fervent cries that carried forth within the hall – cries of blasphemy, treason, heresy intertwined with shouts of honor, duty, sacrifice and diligence. Dissenting voices screamed at one another, some citing Decusian scripture while others called them superstitious fools. While the assembled College was far from a unanimous voice, Landcaster had accomplished more than he had possibly hoped for. Doubt had been cast upon the actions of the new Archbishop, and from this doubt, opportunity for change would soon blossom. For many within the Authority had been opposed to the Archbishop’s decisions, yet few dared speak out for fear of retribution. Finding the opportunity to cast doubt upon the Archbishop’s intentions with his anonymously received tip about the Garden had been Landcaster’s original plan, yet once he began talking, he could not help himself to go further. Reminding the College of the Doctrine had been hasty and reckless and would undoubtedly label him as a zealot – none the less, it had incensed the College to a fervor that he had not witnessed in years.

Bearing witness to the chaos erupting around him, the Consul scrambled to the auditorium exit, Diaconate Templar at his side. Bishop Landcaster allowed him to take his leave, for his point had been made – there were those that had questioned the Archbishops motivations as of late, and they would not go quietly into the dark of night.

Speculatio

Speculatio Decusian Fides

…a lengthy and modern examination into the origins of Decusian religious creed and beliefs, circa 1290 by one Thomas Augustus.

The tale of the founding of the Republic, and more importantly, the faith that guides this mighty empire is a story best prefaced by exploring the canonical history of Eden and its shadowy early days. From hopeless beginnings to the dawn of a kingdom unrivaled, the tale of the Decusian Faith spreads across a period no less than fifteen hundred years in the making, one filled with both hardships and victory. By examining our history and origins as a people we may find the reasons as to why our fore-fathers were so fervently bound by honor and faith, both in their spirituality and of their fledgling kingdom.

Canonically speaking, the origins surrounding the formal birth of the Decusian Faith as a true religious creed has its beginnings traced back to the sinister days of The Old, specifically, during the first ten thousand years the world of Eden had existed. In this time of The Old, it is said that man first appeared upon the world of Eden. Little could be said about these barbaric and uncivilized precursors to the modern-day man. Uneducated and scattered, they roamed the lands of Eden with the other beasts that inhabited the world. As described in cannon, primitive men were nothing more than directionless husks of flesh and muscle simply existing within the lush landscapes of Eden. While ignorant, they were considered to live and exist in bliss, for they knew no natural predator, nor sickness, nor suffering.

Following the actions of the Thirteenth Archangel, as detailed in Creationis, the Decusian story of creation, a cataclysmic event befell Eden. Overtaken in darkness, the lands were populated with what were known as the Ill; all manners of diabolical creatures of whom sought to inflict pain and suffering upon that of mankind. From what can be collected from early literature of the Decusian faith, the most sinister of the Ill were described as powerful creatures whom resembled men but were quite different from their brethren. It is said that these creatures had the power to raise the dead, were stronger and faster than any human man, and had gained their nourishment by consuming the flesh and blood of living humans. These beings were by far the strongest of any creature that roamed the ancient lands of Eden, yet they were also intelligent and cunning; instead of hunting early mankind to extinction, they opted to enslave them instead. Fearing reprisal from early man, the Ill thinned the population of humanity through large scale murder, ravishing through women and children alike with feral tenacity and callous hands. Diminishing humanity into more manageable of a number, the populous of humanity was reduced by nearly half, assuring free reign by the Ill and their counterparts. This period is referred to at times as The Great Culling.

For time immemorial, humanity served as slaves to these beasts of darkness and despair. Yet it is during these early days of slavery and anguish that the ancient man began to develop his own culture and understanding of the world. Language developed among slave camps, and ancient man slowly but gradually made the transformation from primitive beast to a thinking creature. Forced to sustain themselves as well as serve to the pleasures of their masters, early man learned simple agriculture and other domestic trades out of necessity. It is further speculated, although quite cautiously, that early man also emulated and learned from their masters, learning things such as language and aspects of Ill culture. This idea, of course, is quite unpopular with the Church, explaining its lack of acceptance in most scholastic circles.

It is said that these creatures had the power to raise the dead, were stronger and faster than any human man, and had gained their nourishment by consuming the flesh and blood of living humans

At some point during this epoch of enslavement, an unprecedented event occurred; a single slave known in early texts as Randamus successfully killed an Ill slaver in a public display of defiance. This singular act is notable for two reasons; first, before Randamus’ act, early man is described to be a pacifistic creature, unaware or incapable of inflicting harm upon their brethren or even the Ill. Secondly, the subsequent execution of Randamus turned him into a martyr for the human race, as his execution spawned a half century of revolution against the oppression of the Ill. While detailed information of Randamus apart from his name and purported deed is practically non-existant, the ideology and martyrdom that surrounds Randamus and the rebellion that followed is an artery of modern day Decusian Faith. The idea that, despite facing certain death free will cannot be is a strong pillar in which the Decusian religion is founded upon, as easily seen in later works that the martyr Randamus referenced. Following the revolt of Randamus, ancient man fought against their Ill slavers for decades. Early texts show us that their efforts were mostly fruitless, however; as one popular text notes, ‘for every Ill that could be felled, ten-fold men fell to their dark powers’. On the verge of extinction, humanity was facing a losing battle. That is, until the Day of the Coming.

It is gathered from ancient lore that during the Day of the Coming, a spiritual entity from the Heavens themselves came to the desperate please of humanity in their most dire time of need. This entity, an Archangel, was the embodiment of purity and good. A creature of immeasurable brilliance, the Archangel possessed the form of a man, yet beheld wings of white feathers and armor of brilliant craft and design. This herald of light beheld a name which would live on in the world of Eden and in everlasting reverence; Decus. It was even said that some early men offered their worship to this ambassador of Heaven; however, such attempts were quickly dismissed by Decus himself. The Archangel, as he himself explained, came to humanity’s side as a humble servant, not as a deity or an idol of worship.

A creature of immeasurable brilliance, the Archangel possessed the form of a man, yet beheld wings of white feathers and armor of brilliant craft and design.

Upon arriving upon Eden, Decus took humanity under His guidance and tutelage. The Archangel explained his arrival in the Realm of Mortals as a precursor to a bright, new future for mankind; one that he has personally foresaw in a heavenly vision following Randamus’ rebellion. From Decus’ teachings, early man learned that these ecclesial creatures, the Angels, had existed in a different realm of existence. This place of peace, harmony and everlasting bliss was known as the Heavens. It was out of compassion that the Arch Prelate made the decent from the Heavenly realm into the Realm of Mortals in a desperate effort to keep them from being extinguished from the annals of life itself. This compassion was punctuated by the immeasurable sacrifice Decus had made when venturing forth from the Kingdom of Heaven; for He had forfeited His own immortality to save the vestiges of humanity, as by stepping foot upon Eden, he was subjected to the same rules and laws that governed the realm of mortals and men.

Ancient cannon states that Decus had bestowed upon early mankind a plethora of knowledge and teachings. The ecclesial liaison sharpened not only the minds of the human rebellion, but their proverbial swords as well, bestowing upon them techniques and technology unfathomable to early man. Metallurgy, carpentry and blacksmithing proved to turn the tides of the war with the Ill; where early man had initially used simple tools and weapons crafted of wood and rock to rebel against their former masters, they now employed the use of metal weapons and armor. It is even said that the knowledge of magic, in its most pure and Divine form, was bestowed upon mankind at this time. This profound renaissance of militaristic tactics, technology and enlightenment, tempered with the historic oppression of the Ill, caused a forced evolution of mankind. From the remaining vestiges of early mankind and by the guiding hand of Decus, the modern-day Decusian was born.

As early mankind evolved into the modern-day Decusian, enlightenment spread across Eden, and war against the Ill began to turn in humanity’s favor. Before long, exceptional men and women rose to assume the mantle of leading this new era of humanity. These talented souls were recognized by Decus from his visions as the instruments in which would bring forth salvation for the human race. Gathering together these exceptional few, Decus saw to it that a foothold was to be established in the heart of Eden, a revered place that would serve as the staging point of re-taking the world from the hands of the Ill. This hallowed place came to be called Temple, and its’ founding citizenry, the Templar. It is believed that Temple is the first true organized “city” of humanity, and due to its’ significance in Decusian culture, is a revered and sacred idea.

Upon the founding of Temple, the Templar ventured forth across Eden in righteous conquest. Spreading the teaching of Decus far and wide, the Templar trained the willing and ready, recruiting the most exceptional into their own ranks and setting forth the rest to continue humanity’s rebellion. These Templar quickly assembled into the commanding force of the human war effort. Masters of both combat, science and even magic, tales are still told to this day of the Templar being able to call forth powers normal men could only dream about. Amongst their powers granted to them by Decus was the ability to heal wounds by simple touch, to call forth surges of bravery in the most shaken of soldiers, and to even smite the Ill by simple spoken word. Before long, the war against the Ill was won, and humanity reigned as the supreme lifeform of Eden.

The ecclesial liaison sharpened not only the minds of the human rebellion, but their proverbial swords as well, bestowing upon them techniques and technology unfathomable to early man,

Yet with this great victory came great sorrow; for upon completion of their war against the Ill, the Archangel had succumbed to his own mortality. Decus’ passing marked the end of an epoch and the beginning of a new dawn for humanity. The Templar, still regarded by their fellow men as the chosen of humanity and rightful leaders of mankind, took to ascribing humanity’s victory to Decus’ intervention. In detailing the deeds and qualities of the Archangel, a collection of merits were attributed to the Archangel’s character. These virtues, known as the “Sacred Eight”, would come to be the fabric of morality that the Decusian faith would be later based upon, and are as follows:

Honesty, which is the human quality of communicating and acting truthfully and with fairness, as best one is able. It is related to truth as a value.

Compassion, which is a sense of shared suffering, most often combined with a desire to alleviate or reduce such suffering; to show special kindness to those who suffer. Thus compassion is essentially empathy, though with a more active slant in that the compassionate person will seek to actually aid those they feel compassionate for.

Valor, also known as fortitude, is the ability to confront fear, pain, danger, uncertainty or intimidation. It can be divided into “physical courage” — in face of physical pain, hardship, and threat of death — and “moral courage” — in the face of shame, scandal, and discouragement.

Justice, or a condition thereof, is the ideal state of humanity: a morally-correct state of things and persons.

Honor is the evaluation of a person’s trustworthiness and social status based on that individual’s espousals and actions. Honor is deemed exactly what determines a person’s character: whether or not the person reflects honesty, respect, integrity, or fairness.

Sacrifice, the term used to describe the idea of selfless good deeds for others. Sacrifice is the concept of a direct relation between one’s virtues and their status within society.

Spirituality, in a narrow sense, concerns itself with matters of the spirit. The spiritual, involving (as it may) perceived eternal verities regarding humankind’s ultimate nature, often contrasts with the temporal, with the material, or with the worldly. It is the idea in which mankind stays true to their belief in themselves and the Sacred Eight.

Humility is a quality or characteristic ascribed to a person who is considered to be humble. A humble person is generally thought to be unpretentious and modest: someone who does not think that he or she is better or more important than others.

The Templar would go further in their proclamations. In their eyes and interpretations not only did Decus show them the path to their worldly salvation, but their otherworldly deliverance as well. The Templar proclaimed that, by adhering to the Sacred Eight qualities that defined the Archangel, humanity could ascend from the fabric of the reality following their mortal death, and live life eternal once more in everlasting tranquility within the realm of the Kingdom of Heaven itself. This idea became known colloquially in canon as “Ascendance”. These two guiding principles, the Sacred Eight and Ascendance, would become the foundations of the Decusian faith proper.

Popular with early peoples, these beliefs spread across the newly liberated ranks of mankind like wildfire. The evolution of these beliefs followed a natural course of action; the Templar, shepherds of early faith and interpreters of the life and deeds of Decus, would come to govern early mankind in earnest. From these early days came the birth of the Venerated Church, honoring Decus for his sacrifice by devoting their lives to adhering to the Sacred Eight. And thus, a people were born; the Decusians. In time, Decusian faith would come to revere Decus as humanity’s true and rightful (dead) God – for so revered was Decus to humankind, not death nor the fact that he was a creation of the Mason would deter them from worshipping his memory and quality. And so is the story of the Decusian religion; a faith whom reveres a dead Angel as mankind’s rightful God, whom turn their back to the the supposed true creator of the Universe, the Mason, and whom devote themselves to a moral code that shall allow them to live life ever-lasting within the Kingdom of Heaven.

The Venerated Church

The Church of the Venerated Republic is the largest, most influential and oldest faction within the Decuisan Republic. It is the veritable heart of the Republic, and through its will, the empire serves. Due to the inherently ecclesial nature of the Republic, the Decusian Church has always served as not only the most powerful element of the Republic when compared to other factions of the kingdom, but has also fulfilled the role of governing the Republic. From formulating and enacting legislation to wielding supreme authority over fellow factions of the Republic proper, the Church represents the soul of the Republic in every sense of the word. No other presence, faction or organization within the Republic can compare with the influence the Church wields in shaping both culture and society.

While often looked upon as a singular, monolithic establishment ,The Decusian Church is actually a collection of several sub factions and independent orders, all of which fall under the ultimate rule of one of the two branches of the Church itself; the Clerici Sacris, known commonly as the Sacred Clergy or simply “The Clergy”, and the Templar Veneratione Honorantur, known as the “Venerated Templar or simply “The Templar”. These two independent branches form a patchwork that is the Venerated Church of Decus, the singular most powerful force within the Republic. The unifying agent of the two branches of the Church is the ruling caste of the Republic itself, which is comprised of the College of Bishops and the Venerated Archbishop, the supreme ecclesial member of the Church proper. The College of Bishops serves as the Archbishop’s governmental cabinet and council of advisors, and is comprised of four of the most senior members of the Clergy and four of the most senior members of the Templar. The Archbishop, whom is considered by all rights the foremost leader of the Republic, serves the Church and the Republic until death, where a new Archbishop is appointed by the College. Whilst much crucial deliberation and decision-making is left to the hands of the College, the Archbishop retains final veto authority over all final rulings that concern the Republic, thus making he and his office the most supreme power within the empire.

No other faction is as closely linked with the ruling government of the Republic as is the Church. It is a widely known and accepted facet of life that the Church is ultimately responsible for how the Republic is governed and operated. The Decusian Senates, of which can be found in nearly every major territory of the Republic, handle the majority of all governmental proceedings for the nation. An innumerable amount of Senators, whom are appointed from both the Clergy and the Templar, task themselves with the day-to-day operation of all Republic business. In some circumstances, such as more sparsely populated territories, the Republic Foundry is often utilized to handle the general governance of an area, but only under the watchful gaze of the local Templar garrison or Clerical congregation.

No other faction is as closely linked with the ruling government of the Republic as is the Church. It is a widely known and accepted facet of life that the Church is ultimately responsible for how the Republic is governed and operated.

In circumstances dealing with the most crucial decision making in regards to the Republic, the Summus Conventus, or High Assembly is utilized. The High Assembly is regarded as the most powerful Senate within the Republic, and is seated within Tor, along with the College of Bishops and Archbishop. The Summus Conventus is primarily responsible for the legislation and enactment of decrees that affect the Republic at large, of which are voted upon and deferred to the College of Bishops and the Archbishop to make final judgement upon.

To the layman, the Church is an imposing force that propagates sermon and faith with a zealous creed, backed up by the might and power of the second largest military force in the Republic, the Church Templar. Closer examination of the faction reveals, however, that two separate and independent branches of the Church exist to fulfill the needs and demands of the Decusian Republic. The Clergy comprise priesthood of the Church, and exists to perpetuate faith through doctrine. The Clergy in itself is made up of all traditional clerical roles, such as priests and deacons. These men and women comprise the orthodox ideal of “people of the cloth”, often serving as one of innumerable roles within the many churches, cathedrals and ecclesial establishments that populate the Republic. A Council of Bishops are tasked with the overall command of the Clergy, of whose numbers range from the hundreds to thousands depending on various circumstances. The Council of Bishops is furthermore responsible for the appointment of Clergy members to the Republic Senate.

The Templar is the militaristic aspect of Church. They are, essentially, an army bred and raised by the Church to further propagate the will of the Clergy. The Templar itself provides the Republic with services such as overseeing military engagements, providing general security to Church assets, and the planning and execution of military endeavors that do not necessitate the use of the Venerated Legion. Members of the Church Templar are trained and educated completely independently from the Republic’s standing army, the Venerated Legion, and are often instilled with specialized knowledge, zealous faith and more unique equipment that produces a warrior suited for the specific needs of the Church. A council of Warbishops command and oversee the Church Templar, and like the Council of Bishops, also appoint members of the Templar to serve within the Republic Senate. Generally speaking, the Clergy and the Templar branches work independent of each other, yet retain parity of authority in regards to rank held among the their respective branches. A senior Clergymen, for instance, retains the authority to command less-senior Templar in circumstances that would be deemed sensible.

The Templar is the militaristic aspect of Church. They are, essentially, an army bred and raised by the Church to further propagate the will of the Clergy.

Castes The need arises in any organization paramilitary force for it to play host to specialized groups that further serve its needs. Thusly, various sub factions, or castes, exist within both the Clergy and the Templar to tend to these needs. Castes adhere to the rank structure of the Church hierarchy, yet normally retain their own independence from the traditional branches of the Clergy and Templar. Normally, a high-ranking member of either branch is assigned to the general administration of a caste, and oversee it in the manner of a political office or position.

Castes of the Clergy exist for specialized needs of the Church that require the more delicate touch of a man of the cloth, as opposed to the brash force exuded from those of the sword. Examples of specialized castes traditionally administered by the Clergy are as follows:

Venerated Apothecary Corps: The Apothecary Corps exist to administer the research and study of diseases, the advancement of medicinal breakthroughs, and the general handling of plagues and pandemics within the Republic. They are considered a non-military force, and thus, are classified under the ranks of the Clergy.

The Diaconate Templar: An elite form of Templar requisitioned for the use of the Clergy in matters of security and protection, the Diaconate Templar consist of the only true military unit administered by the Clergy. The role of the Diaconate Templar are to ensure the private security of important Clergy members and their families. To an extent, the Diaconate Templar are also used to aid the Apothecary Corps in emergency situations.

Circle of Illumination: The Circle of Illumination can be considered a more philosophical branch of the Church, specializing in the upkeep and study of religious relics concerning that of the Decusian religion. They maintain the Citadel, the grand library of the Republic, and are often touted as lore keepers and historians.

Similarly, the Templar utilize various Castes to fulfill specialized needs and roles. Some examples of Templar Castes include:

Templar Expeditionary: A rather archaic caste, the Expeditionary is comprised of specially trained Templar forces designed to work abroad and outside of the formal reign of the Republic and its holdings. They were traditionally used to administrate and oversee the forceful indoctrination of other cultures into the Republic, with the aid of the general clergy, and the Legion. While still in existence, the modern-day Expeditionary is utilized to assist in matters relating to the policing of Republic territories of the farthest reaches of Vitaveus, where a consolidated Church presence may be few and far between.

Venerated Inquisition Corps: The Venerated Inquisition is one of the eldest Castes of the Templar and Church proper, and exist to hunt down and exterminate all things considered evil and blasphemous in the name of the Venerated Church. They are an elite caste whom were traditionally assigned to the extermination of anything regarding to be “Of the Ill”. In more modern times, the VIC has been responsible for the capture or execution of those suspected of witchcraft, and in recent years, have worked closely with the Consortium in identifying and bringing to justice rouge magic users within the Republic. The VIC is infamous in their tactics and methodology, and often cited in historical ecclesial literature as being ruthless in their execution of doctrine.

Creatonis: I – III

[Creationis, I:1] In the beginning, there was only darkness.

[Creationis, I:2] All that existed in the time before Men and this world as we know it was an expanse of nothingness, a veil of shadow black as the darkest silk.

[Creationis, I:3] For millennia did this nothingness exist, a sea of darkness as still as a pool of tar that reached as far as the eye could see and the mind could perceive.

[Creationis, I:4] This great nothingness is known to us simply as the Void.

[Creationis, I:5] Within this great Void does the story of Creation begin.

[Creationis, I:6] One fateful day, many millennia ago, the Void was rustled with a fervent uproar.

[Creationis, I:7] For countless centuries, the Void stirred most violently and unexpectedly, as water disturbed by a thrown stone.

[Creationis, I:8] From this turbulent torrent of activity did the first life in our great Verse truly begin.

[Creationis, I:9] While we, the remaining vestiges of mankind, look upon the blessing of new life as a glorious miracle, the creations birthed from the great void could hardly be considered blessed or holy.

[Creationis, I:10] These creatures, the first true life in our great Verse, were dark and evil things that reveled in the darkness they considered home.

[Creationis, I:11] And so was the first life of our Verse born, dark children of the Void’s endless night.

[Creationis, I:12] Existing only to indulge in that which was not.

[Creationis, I:13] Their existence was as bleak and as dark as the shadows which had birthed them.

[Creationis, I:14] These wicked things are known to us as the Ancients.

[Creationis, I:15] The Void was a comfortable home to its dark children.

[Creationis, I:16] For many, many years, the Void was still and silent as it was before the birthing of the Ancients.

[Creationis, I:17] The Ancients drifted for centuries within their boundless black sea, content to simply exist in silence and solitude.

[Creationis, I:18] But one day the winds of change blew through the Void yet again, molesting the dark stillness the Ancients called their home with a viscous prejudice.

[Creationis, I:19] From this agitation came a new creation, one far different from the Ancients…

[Creationis, I:20] This creation was light, the opposite of dark.

[Creationis, I:21] This light took the form of a great orb of fire, which the Ancients came to know as the Flame.

[Creationis, I:22] This Flame stood defiantly against the darkness of the Void, illuminating it with zealous radiance and casting its light upon that which knew only darkness since the dawn of time.

---

[Creationis, II:1] The Ancient ones were immediately loathsome of the Flame, for its light had shone through all but the thickest shadows of the Void, its brilliance threatening their very existence.

[Creationis, II:2] Their home had been invaded by an intolerable presence, and thus they sought to remove it.

[Creationis, II:3] For centuries did the Ancients attempt to destroy the Flame, yet their efforts were in vain, for the Flame only grew stronger with every failed attempt.

[Creationis, II:4] In their desperation, the Ancients bid their most powerful and eldest kin to sacrifice themselves in a grand ritual, one that would create a great tool that could be used to craft a new home for their kind; a realm of shadow and darkness that the Flame could never pierce.

[Creationis, II:5] And so did the strongest and wisest of the Ancients take part in said ritual, combining their powers to create the great tool that would create them a new home…

[Creationis, II:6] And so came into being was the one known to us as the Mason.

[Creationis, II:7] The Mason had been a powerful creature, one born but for a single purpose; to craft the Ancients a new home.

[Creationis, II:8] With his immeasurable powers, the Mason manipulated the Void, rending it in half. In one half, he placed the Flame, and called it the Verse.

[Creationis, II:9] The other half he filled with shadow and darkness, and called it Hel. It was here that the Ancients fled, forever abandoning the Flame and the Mason, leaving their servant to perish to the Flame’s light.

[Creationis, II:10] But as the ages had past, the Mason did not perish.

[Creationis, II:11] In fact, he thrived. As years turned to decades, decades to centuries, and centuries to millennium, he had grown drawn to the Flame, mesmerized by its beauty.

[Creationis, II:12] Over time, the Mason was transformed by the Flame. It would bestow wisdom upon him, and showed him virtues such as love and empathy.

[Creationis, II:13] In time, the Mason grew to love the Flame, vowing to serve it and its needs until the end of everything.

[Creationis, II:14] And thus, the Mason had a new purpose.

[Creationis, II:15] And so did he tend to the Flame.

[Creationis, II:16] Heeding its call, the Mason once again took up the mantle of creation.

[Creationis, II:17] With his great power, he again ripped the Verse in half.

[Creationis, II:18] In one half, he left the Flame and its Verse, and in the other, he crafted a home to live within.

[Creationis, II:19] This home he called the Heavens, and from there, he tended the Flame.

[Creationis, II:20] The Heavens were a beautiful place of light, devoid of the shadows that populated Hel, and was a fitting tribute to the glory that was the Flame.

---

[Creationis, III:1] For time immemorial, the Mason existed in his palace of Heaven, content that he had brought order to the Verse.

[Creationis, III:2] Yet as the centuries turned to millennia he grew discontent, for the Ancients had long abandoned him, and the Mason became lonesome.

[Creationis, III:3] For having only the solace of Heaven was a lonesome existence, and he yearned for companionship.

[Creationis, III:4] Yet the only spark of vitality in all the Verse had been the Flame, and nothing else.

[Creationis, III:5] One day, the Mason conceived a great and wonderous plan; a plan that would bring him closer to the Flame.

[Creationis, III:6] The Mason would share his love of the Flame with the Verse by creating others that would bring him kinship and come to love the Flame as he did.

[Creationis, III:7] And so did the Mason draw from the power of the Flame to create once more, creating creatures that would be a fitting tribute to their birthright.

[Creationis, III:8] Hundreds of these creatures did he create, and he named them Angels.

[Creationis, III:9] They were everything he had hoped for; beautiful and animated, compassionate and wise, and they tended the Flame and enlightened the Mason in the mysteries only beings born of the light knew.

[Creationis, III:10] For the Mason had been the spawn of both Light and Dark, and while he loved the Flame greatly he could never know the full embrace of its' warmth.

[Creationis, III:11] And so did the Mason recognize that a few of the Angels he had created stood out from their brethren, exemplifying every aspect of the Flame that they so cherished.

[Creationis, III:12] Full of radiance and glory, they possessed not only the abilities of their kin, but the power the Mason himself wielded; the power of Creation.

[Creationis, III:13] A dozen of these Angels existed, and the Mason bestowed upon them names of his own choosing, and came to know them as Archangels, the strongest of their kind.

[Creationis, III:14] He tasked these twelve with the duty of bringing order and purpose to the other Angels and becoming the stewards of Heaven.

[Creationis, III:15] For millennia, the angels and the Archangels tended to the Flame, loving it unconditionally.

[Creationis, III:16] As the Archangels grew, so did their powers, until one day they were wise and strong enough to fashion their very own creations.

[Creationis, III:17] And so did the Archangels create, drawing from the Flame as the Mason had before them.

[Creationis, III:18] Their creation was that of Eden, a massive, living orb that drew sustenance from the Flame.

[Creationis, III:19] Upon this orb they divined forth many more creations, such as plants, beings that grew and fed from the Flame’s light.

[Creationis, III:20] They also created animals, beings that fed from the plants.

[Creationis, III:21] Their most prized creation, however, was that of a creature that could learn to love and appreciate the Flame as much as they had.

[Creationis, III:22] Into this being the Archangels instilled the potential for all of the virtues that the Flame had imparted to them.

[Creationis, III:23] They crafted them to feed from the plants and animals, forever reliant on the Flame’s light to give them sustenance.

[Creationis, III:24] They gave them intelligence and the ability to communicate, in so that they could praise the Flame amongst one another.

[Creationis, III:25] The Archangels named these creatures Man and loved them dearly.

Creationis: IV – VI

[Creationis, IV:1] And so did all life in the Verse live in harmony and bliss, content in admiring the Flame and its’ glorious incandescence for time immemorial.

[Creationis, IV:2] But after what could only be counted as eons, the Mason again stirred with discontent; for his most beloved children, the Archangels, sought to tend to their creations of animals, plants and Men rather than convene and parlay with the Mason, leaving their father to reign over the Heavens in lonesome solitude.

[Creationis, IV:3] This had made the Mason loathsome, and as the centuries passed, he turned away from the Archangels and their machinations, seeking to travel the currents of the Verse for solace from his antipathy.

[Creationis, IV:4] In time, the Mason had even forgotten the love and embrace of the Flame itself, and was nearly consumed by his animus and lonesomeness, until he was stricken with a great epiphany.

[Creationis, IV:5] The Mason would design a new progeny, a Thirteenth Archangel, one that would know only love for him, and not of the Flame and its’ power of creation.

[Creationis, IV:6] And so, with his great and powerful tools of creation, the Mason would take not from the Flame to make, but instead stole from the shadows of Hel in so that his child would never lust for the Light over he.

[Creationis, IV:7] And so, with a blackened heart and the darkness of Hel itself, the Thirteenth Archangel was crafted by the Mason’s hand. This would become known as the Prime Hubris.

[Creationis, IV:8] The Thirteenth was different than Her kindred Archangels, for Her skill was pale and sickly as harvested ivory, and Her wings bore a shade black as the longest, darkest night.

[Creationis, IV:9] Yet the Mason had been successful, for She loved Her father more than anything else in the entire Verse, and to the Mason’s eye, she had been the most beautiful creation he had ever wrought into the Verse.

[Creationis, IV:10] The Mason, elated with his new creation, summoned all the Archangels to Heaven to gaze upon his design, for he was eager to share his work with his kin and family.

[Creationis, IV:11] And so did the Archangels come in haste, beckoned as they were, for their father had been absent from the palaces of Heaven for so very long.

[Creationis, IV:12] But when the Angels had returned to Heaven, they did not share their father’s elation, but were instead overcome with disgust.

[Creationis, IV:13] For where the Mason had seen beauty within the Thirteenth, the Archangels could only perceive wickedness; they had looked upon their Sister with revulsion, mortified that their father would look upon such a creation with adoration.

[Creationis, IV:14] For the Archangels had known that the Thirteenth was not like they, for She was not born of the Flame, but of the darkness of Hel.

[Creationis, IV:15] And this appalled and terrified the Archangels, blessed as they were to be Children of the Flame.

[Creationis, IV:16] And so, the Archangels insisted their Sister be cast from the Heavens, to be destroyed and discarded to the shadows of Hel, for fear that She would taint the realms of Heaven and Eden with blight and defilement.

[Creationis, IV:17] But the Mason cherished the Thirteenth so much that he could not bear to cast Her away, and so did he bid Her to live with him in solitude, within the farthest corners of Heaven, away from Her brethren who would look upon her with disdain and call for her ruin.

[Creationis, IV:18] And so, the Mason was content for time immemorial, secluded in the farthest reaches of heaven with his daughter, lonely no longer

---

[Creationis, V:1] As the eons came and passed, a dark force had begun to stir within the Thirteenth Archangel; the essence of Anger, a vice of which had never been known to that of Heaven or Eden.

[Creationis, V:2] Having faced the scorn and ridicule of her kindred Angels, the Thirteenth began judging them as flawed and broken creations, unworthy of Her own love and empathy.

[Creationis, V:3] For She could never forgive Her kin for insisting her destruction, even despite her father’s great and unconditional love.

[Creationis, V:4] And thus, Her Anger would turn to Loathing, and from Loathing, Pride; a vice in which the Thirteenth reveled in, learning to scorn her brethren Archangels, and seeing them as lesser to She in every way.

[Creationis, V:5] For it had been the Mason himself whom reassured Her for eons and eons that She was even more glorious and graceful as Her brethren born of the Flame, and that She was beauty incarnate to behold.

[Creationis, V:6] And so Pride had consumed the Thirteenth, and would in time stir even a darker, more sinister vice within her shadowy soul; a vice that would be come to known as Hatred, and that of which claimed dominion over the Thirteenth

[Creationis, V:7] This First Hatred is known to us as the Prime Hatred, and the Thirteenth delighted in its’ company.

[Creationis, V:8] The Prime Hatred would soon consume the Thirteenth, becoming part of Her very essence, and would drive Her to wish ruin upon everything that had worshiped or drew life from the Flame.

[Creationis, V:9] So zealous was Her hatred of the Flame, the Thirteenth would come to even loathe her own creator, the Mason, touched by the radiant incandescence as he was.

[Creationis, V:10] And so, one fateful eve, the Thirteenth denounced Her brethren and father, and would abscond from her place within the Heavens, abandoning the realm of the Archangels and The Mason for the sanctuary and shadows of Hel itself.

---

[Creationis, VI:1] The Thirteenth’s exodus from Heaven had saddened the Mason beyond words could ever communicate. [Creationis, VI:2] His most beloved creation and child, the Thirteenth, had abandoned him, much like the Archangels had prior.

[Creationis, VI:3] The Mason knew that the Thirteenth would not survive long within the confines of Hel, for She was young and filled with ignorance and nativity; She would find no safe harbor amongst the Ancients or their domain, even having been created from their stolen shadows of Hel.

[Creationis, VI:4] Yet as heartbroken as he was, he could not face the expanses of Hel in search of his daughter, for it was the Ancients domain, and he had been cast off by them so many eons ago.

[Creationis, VI:5] And it was known to the Mason that he would know great pain for intruding upon the Ancients within their sacred home if he were to pursue his daughter into the depts of Hel.

Vitaveus: Western Territories

Kaduraas

Geography

What was once a land of towering trees and fertile soil is now a landscape brought under flame and blade. Kaduraas now exists as a desolate land, a scar upon Vitaveus and a reminder to its people. Kaduraans huddle to the husk of a few standing outposts under the purview and ever watchful eye of the Venerated Republic, yet to do so is futile - Kaduraas is nearly completely lost to the horrors of the Torment. One of the last of these veritable bastions for humanity found within this once beautiful land is Antongrad. All roads from the West lead through Antongrad, and it acts as not only a beacon of hope from those trying to escape the hellish expanse, but also as a reminder that the Venerated Republic will stand in defiance of even overwhelming odds, until the very last man alive.

History

Kaduraas was one of many territories under the ancient rule of the Collatian Dynasty, standing tall for centuries before the might of the Venerated Republic struck down its heretical teachings and those who would spread them in the hearts of men during the Reckoning. Much of the teachings of the Kaduraan people have been put to the flame, as many of their works were deemed blasphemous and highly heretical by the Clergy of the Decusian Faith. Due to this, what little has survived the flames is solely found in the form of oration and the memory of the spurned. One rather infamous tale that is often shared is the betrayal the Kaduraans suffered at the hands of the Teramer people. For it was the Teramerians who gave the Republic safe passage, fed and armed their Templar with Collatian iron, and allowed them take to blade and flame to the Kaduraan people completely unhindered. Because of this wretched betrayal, Kaduraan and Teremerians still hold ill will against one another, despite such treachery having been wrought centuries ago.

Kaduraas had once been a fertile land, settled between Teramer and Collatia proper, with abundant forests ranging from taigas to wet tropical uplands. However, the once-bountiful territory has been reduced to ashes in many places, the ending years of the Reclamation having used it for countless front-line battles and skirmishes. In many places, even hundreds of years later, the earth itself is still scorched for miles upon miles, with vegetation, trees and plant-life seemingly refusing to grow back in silent protest of the thousands of gallons of blood spilled upon the cursed soil. In modern times, the concentrations of population in Kaduraas spotted the map of the territory, namely settled around it's various rivers and waterways where at least a semblance of nature has been able to grow back.

Traditional Kaduraan people are a lithe and wirey bunch, with dusky skin and darker pigments of hair, with brown to green colored eyes. However, many of the Kaduraan people are of mixed blood, interbreeding with those from the East that now occupy their once proud nation; a nation that was reduced to nothing more than ash and dried blood long before the Torment ever came to be. The few larger Municipalities that existed in the territory prior to the Torment were merely alive due in part to their Republic garrisons they held, of which were heavily fortified with the means of sustaining themselves inside. Everything from crops and livestock were often grown and raised within these walls, while metals, medicinal supplies and religious goods were brought in through heavily guarded caravans. Life was uncomfortable even within these walls, as everything was rationed to its registered citizenry. Those wayward fools who passed through such garrisons often had to give up a great deal of wealth to even purchase a mere piece of stale bread from those who already have too little to even feed themselves; thus, Kaduraans are often looked upon with a sense of scorn in these modern times.

Prior to the Torment, magical practice was heavily conducted by the Consortium in Antongrad, one of Kaduraas' largest cities. Antongrad Auditorii are considered to be some of the most blood thirsty and unwavering representatives of their cause in the entirety of Vitaveus, and many believe that the recruits that the Consortium melds into these battle-mages were sent to Kaduraas as their power, temperament and sheer natures would lend them to be executed in any more civilized areas of the Republic. Local Templar Chapters and Legion cohorts within Kaduraas were extremely distrustful of this Circle, believing such wildcard magi could easily stray from the Flame and bring about their ruin from the inside on behalf of the Resolve, yet the Church's power within this blighted territory has never been anything more than a fleeting presence. Due to this rather unique circumstance magi of Kaduraas find themselves within, a certain sense of infamy is enjoyed for any that claim to hail from Kaduraas, for magical users hailing from territory are often considered extremely well versed, practiced, powerful and above all else, dangerous. Of special note is the rather peculiar tendency of these infamous magii and magickin to adopt the ways of the sword as well, which had led to the concept of the Kaduraasian Warlock - a terrifying stereotype of a well-versed mage of whom is also adept in sword-fighting.

Torment

The current hellscape that is Kaduraas now lends itself to have been scorched not once, but twice, due completely to the spread of Torment and early efforts to control it. Kaduraas has now been literally brought to the Flame; for it is here that the Republic had tested many of its’ newer technological achievements, to include artillery, cannons, and heavy ordinances in an effort to rate their effectiveness against the Torment. Currently, the Torment is at a critical apex in Kaduraas, with less than a dozen strongholds and Municipalities of Republic forces standing firm against the plague.

The only true portion of Kadurass that is firmly held by the Republic is that of Antongrad and the road to it. A fortnight's ride into Kaduraas from it's southeastern borders, Antongrad stands as an island within a veritable sea of madness and chaos. Somehow, against all odds, Antongrad still stands, and currently represents the only known habitable stretch of Eden within the Blacklands of Kaduraas.

Points of Interest

The Murderfields

The fields between Antongrad and the Godspine are known as the Murderfields; a vast expanse of charred nothingness. The road Eastward from Antongrad to the Midlands cuts right through the middle of this desolate and macabre plain, leading those who have made it this far out of the West and further into the arms of the Republic. It was here that the Venerated Apothecary Corps, backed by the Templar and Inquisition, took to their prototype use of pyrotechnics and flamethrowers, setting ablaze every settlement and village from the Godspine to the walls of Antongrad - infected or not. Even today, as the winds sweep the charred hills of the Murderfields, they at times still carry with them the ashes of the dead, choking the air from the lungs of those who would dare walk its wastes.

Antongrad

Surrounded on all sides by ruin and scorched earth, Antongrad acts as the passage and last checkpoint before reaching the only path safe enough through the Godspine, of which is heavily guarded by Legion forces. Those who make the journey to the City of Skulls as it is colloquially referred to as are greeted with the visage of all those who have attempted to befoul and curse the last bastion of the Empire. Piles of skulls flayed of their flesh line the sturdy and foreboding walls of this city and serve to cast their judgemental gaze upon those who dare enter. Westerners must pass through Antongrad if they are to attempt the roads eastward into the Midlands. Of recent note is that these travelers must be ever mindful of their possessions, as many are searched for any heretical material that they may smuggle East into the Imperial heartland - no doubt due to orders of traumatized Legion officiants whose grips on reality are beginning to fade.

Inspirations and Influences

Bulgaria, Romania. Traditional example names such as Naiden, Ignat, Rada and Lyubov are common for those hailing from Kaduraas.

Murandesh

Geography

Nestled between the Tempest Ocean and the Eternal Range lies a land full of dense, tropical forest and murky swamps known by the indigenous people as Murandesh. This region is roughly 200,000 square miles in size, kept fed and lush by the many rivers and deltas produced by runoffs from the imposing mountains. The 3,000 miles of coastal territory that is plagued by many ships brought to ruin by the unwavering storms and hurricanes of that given credence to the Tempest Ocean’s namesake.

Due to the hostile environment brought on from the Tempest Ocean, and the lowland climate of Murandesh, the only true season within the Western Province is hot seasons and hurricane season, forcing many of its native inhabitants to reside on the Eastern side of the Amawrak River.

History

The Murandai is a name given to the indigenous people of Murandesh by themselves as a whole, and the only translation Decusian scholars can assert it to is simply: “The People”. These people, although slightly different from one another in their sub-cultural ways, hold very similar appearances anatomically, and also see themselves as children of a single set of gods; due to this they trade openly with one another, at least until recent times. Due to the invasion of the Venerated Republic, the relationships between the various cultural groups that make up the whole body of the Murandai have been in a hard place, due to each group having their own political views on the encroachment of Republic on their long held lands.

As a collective whole, the Venerated Republic view the inhabitants of Murandesh as primitive sacrilegious creatures, due to their lack of developed city infrastructure, primitive beliefs in paganistic entities, the lack of written lore, and finally the open practice of cannibalism as a societal right. Many people from the lands East of Prodai and the Eternal Range view the indigenous people from Murandesh as just above the status of animals, useful for nothing more than manual labor.

However, upon closer review, these people have a rich culture that is unique to its people and not experienced elsewhere in Vitaveus, or in Watanga, the turtle whom we live on the back of, according to the Murandai.

Torment

The Murandai simply view the torment as an “outlanders curse”, a boon of their false man god and his conquerors to bring the true people to their knees, as they are forced to harken the calls of the grand witch, Decus. Due to their cultural views on magic, they see no difference in the Resolve and the Republic, to them, they are one in the same, both figuratively and even culturally. As many in Murandesh only speak local obscure languages and dialects that vary between tribal bands, they have no true grasp of the “common tongue”, therefore, Republic and Resolve even lexically sound the same, therefore are in context, the same. This is further supported in their eyes as members of the Consortium, bearing numbered robes and the Venerated banners of the Republic utilize the evil of magic at their very whims, against the indigenous people of Murandesh.

The VIC have made numerous attempts to seize the region and to purge the more nomadic bands, however, due to the harsh environment, weapons and armor made of iron are highly susceptible to rust, along with the difficult terrain in which the Republic has struggled with topographically mapping and developing a sound large scale assault on such a mobile, reclusive and minimalistic group. As the VIC struggle with these indigenous people, they also have to battle the efforts of the Torment; the Du’Mela and Lani tribes view this as the Republic is losing its control over its magics, and the Mother Goddess turning their physical embodiments of witchery and sin, against their creators.

Points of Interest

Amawrak Rainforest

The Amawrak Rainforest, named after the great river which runs through it, covers most of the Amawrak Basin in Muradesh. This tropical rainforest holds the most-varied species of plants, animals, and insects found within Vitaveus. It is so verdant with undiscovered life, that explorers may easily walk from their expeditions with a new creature or plant named after them.

The dense foliage of this rainforest hides many secrets, and it is unwilling to give them up. Ruins of ancient civilizations lay buried beneath silt and tangled vines. Great deposits of precious minerals hide beneath the trees. This rainforest also holds the highest number of unindoctrinated tribes throughout Vitaveus; a number estimated to be about 67. Many Decusians have attempted to bring our faith to these heretics, but none have ever returned.

Amawrak River

The Amawrak River is the greatest river of Muradesh and the largest drainage system, by volume of its flow, of Vitaveus. The total length of the river, measured by its headwaters in Sulastas to the Tempest Ocean, is at least 4,000 miles. The vast basin it runs though holds the most tributaries and widest floodplains of Vitaveus.

According to heretical tribes of the Murandai, Murdadesh was once as dry and arid as its neighbor Prodai. During a particularly dry season, these ancient people prayed to whom they believed to be their great creator, known as Whakikoero, for relief. Their prayers were answered by the appearance of the great serpent Amawrak. The serpent burrowed into the earth, causing great tremors, and created passageways to channel rainwater from the raging storms of Sulastas. From these crevices sprung a deluge of freshwater, which gave rise to the fertile marshes and forests of Muradesh.

Inspirations and Influences The Amazon Rainforest. Purutu, Taruca, and Amaru are common for those hailing from Murandesh

Niunas

Geography

The vast swamps of Niunas stretch seemingly without end, from the western deltas of the loosely labeled province to the Eastern end pressed against the Godspine mountains. There is little variation in the terrain as you enter Niunas and walk its expansive floodwaters and murky bogs. For most of the summer, Niunas is ravaged by hurricanes from the Tempest Ocean. During this terrifying season, the entirety of the region is flooded well past the point of being remotely habitable, uprooting most of the swamps vegetation and trees out into the rolling waves of the Tempest Ocean. Nemus, one of the only infamously known provinces in the entire territory, is situated geographically in an area that is able to endure the seasonal storms, but at a cost to those on the outermost fringes of the province.

History

Niunas isn’t a land of any particular people, cultures or creeds, mostly due to it's inability to be fully habitable. It does however boast a curious bit of trivial history, as it is named after the Old Collatian word for rage. Due to the terrifying storms that plague most of the warm months that Niunas experiences, along with the lack of any formidable soil to build upon as the deltas quickly give away from the hurricanes, this territory has never truly been a place for a people to reside for any permanent stretch of time. However, if someone is attempting to flee the efforts of Republic law, Church agents or everyday rivals and loan sharks, Niunas represents something of a hidden gem, as many of its habitable areas are in fact nigh impossible to reach without a bit of luck and a whole lot of nefarious know-how.

The province of Nemus, home to a city sharing the same name, rests against the Godspine Mountains and is a hotbed of criminal minds and scoundrels avoiding the oversight of the ever-watchful Church. Its original inhabitants and founders are thought to have been Collatian dissidents who sought to escape the potential persecution of their native homeland and the Collatian Dynasty, and to do so, threw caution to the winds and attempted to hide within the treacherous Stormborne Swamps. Due to this shared ancestry and ancient hatreds, traditional Nemus culture is a haphazard amalgamation that combines aspects of the Old Dynasty with common practices passed down from thieves and cutthroats who've historically dealt in some of the most illegal acts throughout Vitaveus. However, due to the literal erasure of any vestige of Old Dynasty culture from the face of Vitaveus by the hands of the Republic, it is seemingly impossible to separate customs and traditions derived from ancient Collatia from that of the practices and culture passed down by the criminal element that has permeated through its' society. For this reason, Niunasians as a whole are considered the worst of the worst in terms of Decusian ilk, and are detested, distrusted, and considered tainted from birth.

The city of Nemus itself is pieced together by countless hundreds of docks branching out from a central focal point, colloquially known as “The Heart”, where the first outlaws established themselves against and alongside the mountain face. The further one finds themselves from The Heart, the newer the inhabitant most likely is, and their knowledge of the inner workings of the city and its unspoken rules more apparent. Newcomers to Nemus rarely last long, and those that do survive only because they listen and adapt to the terms of the cities people quickly. As a city of thieves, miscreants, and human trash, Niunas’ economy provides no real commodities or resources for trade, and thus, the people of the city often reach out into the East towards territories such as Ghaenthgrand for precious resources and at times, luxury goods.

Torment

The Torment exists in small pockets throughout Niunas, however whatever creatures that may be affected by the horrifying disease are usually prone to the elemental forces that continually besiege the territory and its’ peoples. Due to the storms continuously sweeping in from the coast, much of the Torment blight is quite literally sucked out into the Tempest Ocean. Therefore, much of the territory, especially around Nemus, is largely unaffected by the disease. However, despite the relative safety one may find from the Torment, Niunas is absolutely rife and rampant with its own threats, of which that have only increased exponentially since the arrival of the scourge. Decusian presence has been completely and thoroughly pulled out from all but the fringe borders of Niunas, resulting in the traditionally lawless territory sinking further into decadency. Niunas is therefore a territory nearly completely devoid of the Republic's influence, and thus, is considered one of the most dangerous places in all of Vitaveus.

Points of Interest

Stormborne Swamp

The thick ichor of this swamp’s bogs and marshlands cover the entirety of the territory for countless hundreds of miles. For a decent part of the year, the swamp itself is a dangerous trek through predatory waters too dense from algae, vegetation and swirling mud. However, in the last months of summer, the storms of the Tempest Ocean pick up to cataclysmic levels and flood the swamps of this region; any poor soul caught between Collatia and Nemus best pray to Decus, for their chances of surviving are negligible at best.

Nemus

Pushed deep and back into the Eastern edge of the Province, nestled up against the Godspine, lies the notorious city of Nemus. It is home to the offspring of Collatian dissidents and outlaws who found the natural protection of the swamp from justice. In modern and recent times, much is unchanged, as those who choose to live in Nemus are nearly all criminals or ne'er do wells who fled their respective homeland territories for the “don’t ask, don't tell” mentality of the famed criminal city. It is said that those who don't wish to go through Antongrad and the Kaduraan Pass for legal reasons opt for guides and routes from Nemus smugglers in dangerous expeditions through the Stormborne Swamp. However, word to the warning, you may lose your coin or your life just as quickly on this route as any other out of the West, for these folk are a conniving, wicked lot.

Inspirations and Influences

Brazil, Rainforests, Everglades. Traditional example names such as Itzcali, Cadmel, Eadrich and Ctialee are common for those hailing from Niunas.

Prodai

Geography

Prodai, though a desert climate, once held a wealth of forested lands that hugged the southeastern edges of its mountain barriers. However, over the generations of expansion on behalf of its ancient priest royalty and their great architectures to venerate their wretched, pagan gods, they had exhausted these natural resources completely, which resulted in many of their civilizations and cities to become empty husks where life once thrived. The sweltering desert landscape has swallowed up these ancient places, burying them beneath the hot Prodain sands as time has taken its toll. The Prodai region is predominantly flat at its center, becoming more pronounced as you reach the foothills along the mountains that encompass almost all of its border. Almost in the center of this barren waste is a massive scar that plunges deep into Eden and stretches further than the eye can see; its depths craggy and torn, and one false step could be the undoing of any mere mortal foolish enough to get close to its edge. Boasting the largest territorial claim of any region within Vitaveus, Prodai's legacy is as lengthy and large as it's vast, rolling deserts.

History

Historically speaking, Prodaen people had been long isolated due to the lack of horses or mule-like animals in their region to help them overcome the vast and towering mountains that surround their desert lands. Due to this, ancient Prodaen society had to internally rely on their own lands to further their development of civilization. Initially, this was not of concern to the Prodaen people, as their populations were easily manageable; however, as population levels grew, the demand for more resources grew in tandem. Herein lies the conflict that slowly reduced by all accounts a once thriving empire into a ghost of its former, ancient glory.

The ancient rulers of the Prodaen people, considered “God Kings” by divine right and mandated as such by the priesthood of their society, sought to expand their cultural influence by building over their predecessors and erected great architecture that would stand well beyond their reign. These grand projects, which served as vain tributes to themselves, saw to a mass commitment of an already dwindling supply of natural resources and manpower. For every one of these towering effigies built, a ritual of sacrifice would be conducted, taking the labor-force who were conscripted to build such marvels and murdering them en-masse as a tribute to whatever mad machinations the God Kings had worshiped.

The laypeople of Prodaen society eventually revolted against their God Kings, resulting in a bloody coup that would last years. In the midst of this violent and prolonged rebellion, the Venerated Republic visited its war machine upon the territory's borders, bringing with it their Holy Reclamation. Like a hot knife carving through butter, the Republic made quick work of those who would stand against them, be it those loyal to the God Kings, or the revolutionists who see to overthrow their former rulers. Hundreds upon thousands of Prodaen people were slain in the conflict of subduing Prodai, and the Reclamation efforts within the territory would last nearly a decade - the longest sustained campaign of Reclamation the Republic would ever wage. When the dust had finally settled in Prodai, those who would remain were brought to heel before the Venerated Republic, either working predominantly in the countless salt mines that would later become the primary export of the region, or becoming conscripted into the vast armies of the Legion to replenish the staggering losses it sustained in attempting to subdue the region.

Torment

Since the emergence of the Torment, Prodai has become embroiled in a separatist movement founded on ancient cultural beliefs that have become reinterpreted by the indigenous people. Technically, the Torment has not overtaken Prodai in earnest, mostly due to the natural borders that block easy travel as well as the sprawling deserts that are the hallmark of this territory.

Curiously, for many true-blooded Prodaen people, the Torment isn't looked upon as a plague that affects them, but one that has been called forth by the old, dethroned God-Kings to plague the Decusians and their false angelic God. They believe that the Torment to be retribution for the subjugation of Prodai. As such, numerous pockets of the territory has become unsafe. Public executions, murder mobs and lynching have all become commonplace in this region, and have only been exacerbated due to the dwindling Republic presence in the form of Legion and Templar military units. This separatist movement, formally known as “The Luella”, has now reached a level of organization and sophistication previously thought impossible for a rebel group operating within Vitaveus, and has amassed a large guerilla force that has repulsed many of the smaller Legion outposts of the region due to their inability to guard the Province as the Torment threat calls their attention elsewhere. Content on simply keeping the region contained as of the present, the Republic has thus declared Prodai as Blacklands, despite that it is lost more to revolution rather than the Torment threat.

Points of Interest

The Great Maw

This scar into the depths of Eden is revered by the people of Prodai, but for what reasons has been lost to time. Up until the arrival of the Venerated Republic, Prodean God Kings would ritualistically sacrifice one of their children into this large canyon-like crater upon their ascension to the throne. Today, many Decusian followers left abandoned in Prodai, particularly members of the Clergy, have been executed by being tossed into the Maw as an homage to the Old Ways.

Kobo

The largest city in Prodai, Kobo is positioned at the eastern end of the Great Maw, nestled against one of the few freshwater sources in all of Prodai. It is here where the heart of the territory was founded and built, with countless temples spanning the desert, all stained in a rust-like color from ages of shedding blood upon their sandstone bricks. Nearly all of these temples were brought to utter ruin by the Venerated Republic after the conclusion of the Recalamation, with churches to Archangel Decus having been erected in their place. In proper cyclic form, the Luella have now taken to dismantling these Decusian churches and cathedrals as well, working to reestablish the horizon of Kobo with the silhouettes of countless dozens of temples to the old God Kings.

Inspirations and Influences

Ancient Persia. Traditional example names such as Ahman, Srivan, Aida and Shana are common for those hailing from Prodai.

Sulastas

Geography

The southwestern territory of Sulastas is nestled between uninhabitable Niunas and the ravenously tribal province of Murandesh. On its Eastern edge, the Godspine begins to taper into a large pass leading into Ghaenthgrand; this pass, known as Roenhelm’s Gap, has been the site of many conflicts through the centuries by both the Sulastains and the Ghaenthens. The region is filled with vast jungles with thick canopies made primarily of Kapok trees, which produce a plant fiber that is highly regarded for its ability to be weaved into tapestries and other materials that need to be light, yet durable. The raging storms from the Tempest Ocean only really impact the coastal region, making travel through the interior of Sulastas less hostile than its neighboring territories. Yet make no mistake, Sulastas is a dangerous land even before the onset of the Torment, mainly due to threats of all kinds hiding within the thick canopies of the vast jungles that make up the majority of the territory.

History

Sulastas was the second to last of the Collatian Dynasty territories to fall during the Decusian Reckoning, and held some of the largest hold-fasts within the western territories. The natives to the region, known as Sulastains, primarily built their settlements among the faults of the Godspine Mountains. Though most Sulastain lands are dense jungles, very few ancient people inhabited them, instead opting for settlement in the Godspine faults. These uninhabited jungles did serve a purpose to early Sulastains however, acting as a major source for cotton, lumber, and exotic animal products ill found anywhere else in all of the Old Dynasty - and thus making the territory keenly valuable to the Collatians. Apart from that, Sulastain ancient society was primarily agrarian, with their peoples having developed a terrace farming technique to utilize the mountains and their exposure to the sun to cultivate plants such as corn, squash and wheat.

Traditional Sulastains themselves are a short and lithe people, and number among the shortest people in all of Vitaveus. Their skin is of a deep brown complexion and their eyes boasts a wide range of greens and browns. They often dressed in fine loose garments, made from the fiberr of the kapok trees, and wore thick coats and hats to keep warm at the higher altitudes of their homeland. Sulastain people also boast a wide array of body modifications, taking bones, rocks or precious stones, and placing them through their nostrils, ears or even their foreheads. Sulastain society was caste-based prior to the Reckoning, with a scholarly caste at the top of the food-chain, followed by the warrior caste, the trade caste, and lastly, the bound caste.

Sulastas at one point boasted the largest slave market in all of Vitaveus, and settlements and villages from territories such as Ghaenthgrand made up a large part of their ancient slave force. Before the Reckoning and their eventual downfall, Sulastas really consisted of one export: slaves. It is for this reason that the Republic had taken a rather violent and prejudicial hand to Sulastas during the Reclamation, wholly in part to the Decusian belief of slavery being a cardinal sin. It is estimated that less than fifteen percent of Sulastain bloodlines survived the Decusian Reclamation

Torment

The Torment has fully consumed this province in it's entirety. Pockets of Tormented cysts have been reported throughout the jungles, which has put a stop to the fiber production from the region since early 1320. Roenhelm’s Gap has become a massive quarantine point as of 1340, when a anarchist plot to bring the disease further into the heart of the Midlands was thwarted; however, these diabolic agents in a last ditch effort brought damnation upon the pass, spreading their sickness and infecting the surrounding area. Due to this, Sulastas is considered through and through Blacklands, and little effort has been made to reclaim it in the near thirty years since the emergence of the Torment.

Points of Interest

Itzamaatl

One of the largest cities in Sulastas, Itzamaatl was a hotbed for trade and cotton production in per-Reclamation times. At one point, due to its central location along the Godpsine in Sulastas, Itzamaatl acted as the trade center for the entire territory's slave markets, with travelers from all over what would later become known as the Western Territories traveling there to take part in the auctions. Upon the arrival of the Decusians during the Reckoning, these slave markets were razed to the ground and turned into nothing more than piles of rubble. Nearly all of the former slave masters of Itzamaatl were systematically rounded up and ritualistically executed by Decusian forces following it's capture by Templar forces. Due to this, Republic sentiment amongst the laypersons of Itzamaatl, which consisted mostly of the ancestors of freed slaves, had tradtionally been exceptionally strong for a Western Territorial holding. Unfortunately, this good-will and sentiment was not enough to keep the city safe, and since as early as 1322, Itzamaatl has been lost to the Torment, with tens of thousands of Afflicted that still roaming it's streets to this day.

Chat’tumal

Once a large slave territory, Chat’tumal is now a ruin reclaimed by nature, and haunted by those who died there long, long ago. During the final days of the Reckoning, a slave revolt took place within the territory, the enslaved seeing the Decusian invasion as an opportunity to strike out against their retreating and weakened masters, in an attempt to free themselves from their wretched bonds. When the slaves revolted, they took to slaughtering everything in their sights that was not bound in irons, killing everyone in their path in so that none were left alive to raise a hand upon them again. Upon the arrival of Decusian forces to Chat’tumal, some of the most battle-hardened commanders of the Republic forces were even left in awe from the savagery they had witnessed upon entering the territory, and had immediately declared Chat’tumal to be uninhabitable for future Decusian purposes. Many to this day think Chat’tumal to be haunted, believing that the foul souls of the slavers still roam its' ruins, looking to exert dominance over the living once more.

Roenhelm’s Gap

Named after a famous Ghaenthgran hero of ancient lore, Roenhelm’s Gap is the only passage through the Godspine into Sulastas from Ghaenthgrand. At one point this pass held impressive fortifications that near-rivaled that of the Angelspire herself, however, today it stands a shadow of its former glory. It is the only element of Republic power within the entire region, and serves solely to protect entry into Ghaenthgrand from the ruined territory of Sulastas.

Inspirations and Influences

Peru, Tropical Rainforests. Traditional example names such as Xoc, Akna, Ah-mun and Nakon are common for those hailing from Sulastas.

Teramer

Geography

Teramer lies against the Northwestern edge of Vitaveus, butted up against the cold and dreadful Caddoch Sea and the Tempest Ocean. Its shores are an anomaly to many that first land upon them and gaze towards their ebony colored sands. The most devoted of Decusians believe that these sands are stained with the sins of Teramer’s inhabitants, of whom taint the very lands they walk upon. The winds from the Caddoch Sea, coupled with the currents of the Tempest Ocean bring with forth a harsh and perpetual rain that turns to ice and snow from Warmwind to Dewfall. Trees are minimal in the lands of Teramer, and thus, wooden effects and trinkets are prized as gifts strictly for those who bear a higher status amongst Teramerian society. Most of the settlements, cities and villages within Teramer are nestled within the Southern reaches of the province, pushed up against the Godspine Mountains. Teramer is a brutal, unforgiving land, and its' spawn possess personalities much the same.

History

Historically speaking, the people of Teramer, known as Teramerians, are a stout and hearty people of light colored hair and very fair skin, with shorter limbs and stocky frames. As a whole, their communities were nomadic with centralized settlements that they had gravitated towards during the harsher snow seasons. Their clans and tribes had taken to herding elk and reindeer, of which provided them with a vast quantity of hides and meats, and are the main resource they thrived off of alongside mining communities that exist along the southeastern borders and the Godspine Mountains. Teramer’s hills are still rich with iron deposits, and as such, most of their settlements were formed out of rock and iron, as the scarcity of wood is saved for more ceremonial effigies and for people in positions of power and recognition. Trade in the past was conducted with the people of Kaduraas prior to the Reckoning, but now, post-Torment, the landscapes of Kaduraas are a ruin and its surviving people now despise those of Teramer for imagined betrayals.

Traditional Teramerians remain closely knit in modern times, with a singular cultural identity, no matter how far away its members may travel from the Southern settlements. Be it of their own devices, or to simply lead the herds further north in the warmer months, Teramerians are still a part of the Clan no matter how far they may travel from Teramer’s black sands. They are a matriarchal people, their clans structured around the All-Mother, the eldest woman in the clan who also bears the longest lineage of Teramerian offspring. A common Teramerian saying is “From the womb bears our lineage, and to it we give homage”. This simple phrase sheds light upon the Teramerian stance of the All-Mother and her importance to the Clan’s wellbeing; acting as both the giver of life and the rule of law for the clans as they interact with one another.

While largely independent in the years leading up to the Reckoning, Teramer fell for a time under the purview of Collatia, acting as one of many subjects that greased the cogs of the ancient Western power. Due to their smaller population they were easily routed and brought into the heretical dominion by the larger and more imposing nation. Due to their limited natural resources, Collatia demanded exorbitant amounts of hides and pelts from the Teramer herds, along with working some of the Southern settlements into exhaustion for their iron deposits to fuel their city-state. At times, Teramerian settlements would act as the scapegoats for the Collatians, of whom would reave and raid these settlements of their livestock, iron stores, and even of women if they felt their demands were not being met to fuel the already engorged bellies of the Dynasty. These acts, of which compiled over many generations, would leave a lasting impact upon the Teramerian people, of whom would ultimately look for any opportunity to see themselves one day looking down upon Collatia as it fell into the sea.

When the Reckoning began and the armies of the Decusian peoples descended upon the lands of the Collatian Dynasty, a better staging point for their naval forces was sorely needed. Traversing large cohorts and legions across the Godspine would have seen a vast number of their forces dwindled before setting down upon Collatia due to its hazardous peaks and harsh winters. Teramer offered a place for the Decusians to sweep down upon their heretical foes in the name of their God and Savior, and to do so from a staging point that offered little resistance to their efforts; for small bands of nomadic people such as the Teramerians would be easily quelled if they attempted to rise against the Republic. What the Decusians had not been prepared for was that the fact that the Teramerians quickly, and almost fervently, warmed to the Decusians occupation and arrival of their massive armies.

For the Decusian invaders were not seen as enemies to Teramer, but as royalty blessed themselves by the Gods, for they sailed upon large ships far beyond anything the Teramerians could have ever imagined. Instead of rebuking these conquerors, they instead opened their lands to them along with their mines, offering the Republic a means of supplying itself on the front-lines of its Holy War as well as providing a vital staging point that would play a pivotal role in striking down the Western Collatian serpents. As the Western nations fell under the Legion’s and Templar’s swords, many of the Collatian Old Dynasty vowed to pay vengeance upon the Teramer people for their insolence and perceived betrayal.

In more modern history, the Venerated Republic would continue to maintain its outposts and over-watch of the province, taking full use of the mines and the deep reserves they offered in iron and precious minerals. Due to the region being home to the Warbishop Naum Alexandrov himself, Teramer boasts a large Inquisition presence within the capital city of Aleksandrov, named after the Bishop himself. In fact, Teramer is responsible in providing to the Republic upwards of twenty-five percent of the Inquisition’s yearly recruits, whom are regarded to be some of the most physically conditioned and imposing men and women throughout the entire known continent of Vitaveus. Due to Alexandrov’s ascension to one of the highest stations in all of the Republic, Teramerians regard him as a figure of high regard (and at times, even legend). Because of this fanaticism, Teramerians are fiercely dedicated to serving the Church in whatever martial capacity they can, be it through the Inquisition, Templar, or even the Apothecary Corps. It is said that nearly all of Teramerian youth culture is fixated upon this facet of life, so much so that formal education in Teramerian is often neglected to favor that of physical conditioning, martial training and other related disciplines.

Becoming One with the Flame

The introduction of burning the dead is something new to most inhabitants of Vitaveus, however, its roots stem from Teramer culture long before the time of the Torment. Due to the permafrost that takes to most of the soil in Teramer, bodies were ill suited to be buried, due to inevitably being summoned forth from the cold ground within a couple years of being interred. This natural act of resurfacing the dead no doubt brought many contagion and disease upon the locals in Teramer. As such, no one is buried in the entirety of the territory, their bodies are burned en-mass when enough of the dead pile up within their honored walls to offset the cost and rarity of lumber; coal is often used to propel the flames where wood may be in short supply, or the dead number many lowborn or criminal folk.

As of late, this practice is now widely used to dispatch the dead in other parts of the Republic, and given a much more symbolic meaning as the fallen is said to be returning to the Flame from which man once came.

Torment

The Torment is a problem for all, and although it is not as prevalent within the settlements dotted about the landscape in Teramer, it has however seeped within the soil and the wildlife, where droves of reindeer herds and elk farms have been brought to disease and ruin. Farming and the impact to the Teramerian wildlife has left an impact on the already small population of Teramer, and due to this rampant and deadly disease, many have taken to becoming refugees in other lands, daring to trek over the Godspine and the Republican ramparts that dot it to find safety within its embrace. The people of Teramer believe the Torment is a curse placed upon them by the Old Dynasty of Collatia for their role in their ultimate demise at the hands of the Decusians, however, those Teramerians who leave their homelands to other parts of the world are quite shocked to see that this sentiment is also shared by others outside of Teramer’s lands, albeit somewhat rarely.

Logistically speaking, nearly 70% of Teramer is currently considered Blackland and lost to the blight of the Torment. Only the most southeastern villages of Teramer that line the foothills of the Galehorn mountains, along with the mega-city of Aleksandrov, remain “held” by the Republic, and only because of the fierce fanaticism of the zealot Teramerians that still serve the Republic. Venturing any farther than a day's ride from the Galehorn is a fool's errand, with those embarking on such a quest never being seen nor heard from again. The remaining holdouts of Republic power within Teramer suffer from nightmarish conditions, and are subjected to constant and harrowing battles against the afflicted and Tormented whom roam the Western Territories in great, unmitigated hordes. Not surprisingly, however, is the unbridled and near-psychotic lust that many Teramerians hold in regards to their current forsaken predicament.

Points of Interest

Muldr Mine

A large mine within the Galehorn Mountains, Muldr Mine was a major excavation site known for its mineral deposits that became a vital operation for the Republic post-reckoning. The mine however became abandoned sometime after 1313, when the Torment began to ooze forth across Vitaveus, bringing death and suffering to all it touched.

Aleksandrov

The largest Municipality within Teramer, Aleksandrov is home to the largest Decusian Cathedral and subsequent Templar and Inquisition garrisons in the entire region. Due to being built into the face of the Galehorn peaks, it remains a vestige of power within the Western Territories and Blacklands of Teramer proper. Of particular interest to those from both Teramer and tourists is that it is also the birthplace of Naum Alexandrov, Warbishop of the Venerated Republic, hence the origin of this impressive stone and iron city’s namesake. His prestige is so well regarded in Teramer that many large wooden statues are erected in his honor and image along the rolling hills and in town squares.

Inspirations and Influences

Black Sand Beach - Iceland, Siberia, Russia. Traditional example names such as Artyom, Konstanin, Sasha and Nikita are common for those hailing from Teramer.

Vitaveus: Midlands

Drolund

Geography

Gray skies perpetually hug the rolling fields of Drolund, as tall wheat fields run the landscape as far as the eye can see. The hardy climate that sits at a cool temperature year round provides a decent amount of rainfall for this province of the Venerated Republic, the large stocks of wheat grown by the Drodain people feeding them for eons. The region is almost split in two as a saddle forms off the Godspine and cuts right through the heart of the province. On Drolund’s easternmost edge is the beautiful and vast Good Sea, the largest body of water on the continent of Vitaveus.

History

Historically, the Drodain people were farmers first and foremost. The large swaths of land provided them with an ample bounty of wild grasses, that over time, they had learned to cultivate and germinate through ancient methods of agriculture and horticulture. To this day, Drolund breads are prized throughout the Republic, as their stocks of wheat and grains have brought a vast bounty of sweat and delicious breads to all corners of the known world. This reputation Drolund possessed in its' early years had not been to it's benefit, however. Ostenam, a neighboring region and long time bitter rival, spent much of its formative years raiding their neighbor Drodain of their hard earned cultivation.

Due to the constant threat of the Osteins, the Drodain of the Drolund Plains were forced to take up martial practices to defend their farmlands. Initially their efforts yielded armies of impressive size. When the legions of the Venerated Republic arrived within Drolund when the Reckoning had finally reached their lands, the Drodain were no match for the overwhelming might that the Decusian faith brought to bear upon them. In defeat, the Drodain surrdenders to the Decusians after only two years of resistance, solidifying their position as a major grain production power to feed the well oiled Republican war machine.

Torment

The Torment is in a frenzy within this region, and the Venerated Republic along with the Apothecary Corps is doing everything it can do to stave off the threat of losing one of its largest grain producers for its Empire. Those of the Drolund fields that still inhabit the region have moved most of their efforts to the Eastern edges of the territory, taking shelter around the Good Sea and the Bloody Basin. It is within these areas one will even find whispers of anti-Western rhetoric, with some whispering about the sudden and violent spreading of the Torment being a plot of the Osteins to try and remove their ancient and long-time rivals without fear of being branded as seditionists to the Republic. For it is quite curious that the Torment is so deeply entrenched within Drolund as opposed to its neighboring territories, a fact that leads many to believe foul play beyond that of normal means of the plague spreading. Due to the violent outbreaks of Torment across Drolund, Westerners who sometimes make it safely through the Godspine find no quarter within these foul lands. Some are even hung along the winding roads of Drolund as warning to other foreigners and wayward migrants that the Torment is at a fever pitch within Drolund. Yet others interpret this message as something else; perhaps a warning to the Osteins that the Drodain trust none but their own in these trying times.

Points of Interest

Bloody Basin

This large body of water is home to a peculiar site for many to witness for their first time. Eden itself is molded around it as though a massive object once fell here, but what is more intriguing is that the rich iron deposits and minerals deep within the hard stone floor of the basin cause a bleeding effect of rust to emerge at the edges of the water where the rock and lake converge. This effect is where its namesake takes place, as the shores look like they run red with the blood of thousands.

Kaduraas Pass

This pass that breaching from East to West is a major point of traffic for those who official pass through the region on the good graces of the Republic. It is famous in modern times for being one of the last places that the legendary Resolve and their forsaken followers were observed before disappearing into the Western Territories nearly thirty years ago. The pass is lined with outposts and towers that are manned by Legion forces, and of late, have become bolstered as the efforts to beat back the Torment into the Western Territories have failed. People who pass through the checkpoint must reach the next in a series of stops within a specific allotted amount of time stamped on their passage writ due to the area being notorious for illicit activity such as smuggling, human trafficking and more; not to mention the specter of the Resolve. If these times are found to be forged or altered, travelers are often simply executed in the street, with Republic forces citing the offender of having been in league with the Resolve. If times prove to be tardy by an unreasonable amount, the offending traveler traditionally would be set back to Antongrad for questioning and interrogation. However, in such dark times as these, these offenders are often executed as well, solely due to hysteria involving infiltration by loyalists to the Resolve. It is for this very reason many colloquially call this place, the “Mad Dash Pass”.

Inspirations and Influences

Midwestern United States. Traditional example names such as Colborn, Cade, Kimberley and Nara are common for those hailing from Drolund.

Ghaenthgrand

Geography

Those who have traveled the Shimmering Plains of Virrenul will tell you that the grasslands go on forever. Indeed, whether on horseback or foot it is hard to imagine the sprawling plains coming to any sort of end. Yet end they do, as does Virrenul, when it runs up against the Broadwater, which at over 500 miles in length approaches even the mighty Red River in length. If you should chance to cross the river, as the pioneers did long ago, you will find yourself in Ghaenthgrand, the territory which lies at the center of Vitaveus. The Shimmering Plains may end at the Broadwater, but the majority of Ghaenthgrand is dominated by such grasslands and prairies. Save for the west and the south, most of the territory is a vast expanse, broken only sporadically by rivers and forests. This abundance of land only makes what lies further into Ghaenthgrand more breathtaking.

Situated along the northern border of the region rests Goodsea, which is Vitaveus' largest inland body of water. It is fed from sources all over central Vitaveus but within Ghaenthgrand the greatest of those sources is the Broken-Hearted River, one of Vitaveus' great rivers alongside the Red and Broadwater rivers. Goodsea is composed of freshwater and the lake is approximately 38,0000 square miles in surface area and is a central feature of not only Ghaenthgrand but the entire region. Amidst Vitaveus' flatlands it must seem unique, but the truth of the matter is that while it may be the largest inland body of water, it is not the only one within Ghaenthgrand's borders. One-hundred miles to the northeast one may also find the Lake Volg, another large lake in central Vitaveus. Lake Volg is the terminus of the Broadwater and connects to Goodsea via the Wise Canal, the longest of three channels connecting central Vitaveus' four largest lakes.

Despite these features it would be fallacy to claim that Ghaenthgrand is all plains, rivers and lakes. The Godspine Mountains, Vitaveus' tallest range, compromise the western border of the territory, and along with the Godspine comes foothills and boreal forests. Southern Ghaenthgrand is also bordered by rocky highlands; Roenhelm's Valley (better known as the Cauldron) is the southernmost point of Ghaenthgrand and a part of the Eternal Range, a sprawling series of mountains which continues for over 800 miles to the southeast.

As is the case with most of the territories in central Vitaveus, the majority of Ghaenthgrand's citizens live near the lakes. There are certainly towns and even small cities in the foothills and backlands, but the northeastern portion of the region is far more densely populated than the southwest. Those settlements that aren't near the lakes or the fertile midlands are nearly always a stones throw from the banks of the Broken-Hearted River or one of its tributaries. One such town, perhaps the largest of all the backland towns, is Raven's Bridge. It is opportunely located at the fork where the Broken-Hearted River is joined by Katrina's River, one of its many tributaries. Roughly 300 miles southwest of the Goodsea, Raven's Bridge (and indeed all the settlements in the southwest) are considered off the beaten path. Still, the placement of Raven's Bridge makes it something of a regional capital for the villages and hamlets in the area. Such a designation has brought prosperity to it, and along with that prosperity Raven's Bridge has steadily grown over the years.

While Raven's Bridge may indeed be the central town of the southwest, Hegvard is the true territorial capital of Ghaenthgrand. The largest settlement in the territory, Hegvard lies on the shores the Goodsea. Citizens of the eastern territories might share a good laugh when the people of Ghaenthgrand call Hegvard a harbor town, but the truth of the matter is that the title is every bit deserved. Goodsea is perhaps the best source of transportation and food in the region and allows the residents of Hegvard to do business with both Drolund and Ostenam. Access to Volgen via the Wise Canal and Lake Volg further supplements Hegvard's mastery of the region. Hegvard also sees a fair amount of traffic from travelers; the road west leads through Drolund to the Angelspire Traverse, making the settlement a prime stopping point for both those on their way to the western territories or those heading back east.

Depending on their journey, those same travelers often pass through Steelferry as well. Situated some 250 miles east of the capital, this tiny town rests along the banks of the Broadwater at the edge of the Shimmering Plains. The town gets its name not only from the lumbering chain ferries which it operates for those crossing the Broadwater, but also for the majority of its clientèle; Steelferry's barges are often frequented by fresh Legion platoons on their way west. Though the ferry may be what the village is known and named for, in truth it survives off of what most towns in northeastern Ghaenthgrand survive off of; miles and miles of fields. Perhaps the best of such fields can be found in the Rathyn Expanse, the fertile tract of land between Goodsea and Lake Volg. Some 160 miles northeast of Hegvard across the waters of the Goodsea one can find the town of Fieldstone, the seat of power in the Rathyn. Though not as large as Hegvard, Fieldstone served as the capital of Ghaenthgrand until the road west was forged through the territory. Soon after it was outgrown and replaced, though it still likely holds honors as the wealthiest town in Ghaenthgrand due to the value of the surrounding land. Its counterpart, across the Expanse on the shores of Lake Volg, is Tills.

History

Ghaenthgrand is unique to Decusian culture, as it is a territory that was sparsely and thinly populated by native peoples upon the arrival of Decusians to Vitaveus. When the first explorers set foot in what was to become Ghaenthgrand and made their way to the shores of Goodsea, you can imagine their incredulity. The year was 477 AS and Arkhess was being settled, while intrepid sailors were already mapping out the meandering shores of the northern Yultac territory. The Goodsea was unexpected, unplanned for, and many had no explanation other than the fact that they were standing upon the beaches of Vitaveus' west coast. It was a rumor dispelled with further exploration, but the seed had already been planted and already people were talking about the sea in the west.

And so came the pioneers, slowly at first, and then in droves. By 525 AS a full-fledged settlement effort was underway. Those with nothing to lose crossed the Shimmering Plains in Virrenul, which at times proved rather inhospitable, but the majority came from Volgen to the northeast. Many settled on the shores of the lake there, and it was these people who gave the Goodsea its name, claiming it held all the benefits of the Pearl Sea to the east with none of the dangers. One such group was led by Martus Rathyn who, newly wealthy from his land in Volgen, led his family southwest in hopes of even greater success. He discovered it on the shores of the Goodsea when, in 528 AS, he founded a settlement he would call Fieldstone. Drawing others to his banner, Rathyn's town grew and soon became the defacto provincial capital of the Ghaenthgrand region. Eventually all the surrounding lands came to bear his name as well, and the Rathyn Expanse was heralded as a success that many pioneers of Vitaveus hoped to emulate.

Still, some were not content simply to reach the lake and pressed on into the territory, following the shores of Goodsea and eventually the banks of the Broken-Hearted River southwest. Perhaps the best known was Katrina Yudoras, who in her youth had been a High Deacon of the Decusian Church and a member of the Circle of Illumination. Though she had since retired from the clergy she continued with the research that had propelled her through the ranks of the church, convinced that the mountains to the west held religious relics from centuries past. Along with a contingent of pilgrims she followed the Broken-Hearted River southwest until, in 542 AS, reached the confluence of the Broken-Hearted River and what would come to be know as Katrina's River. There she died of natural causes. Without her leadership the pilgrims faltered. One half of the group decided that with Katrina's death so ended their mission and at that site they founded the town of Raven's Bridge. A smaller second group, led by one of Katrina's outspoken pupils named Walther Roenhelm, continued south along Katrina's River and up into the mountainous valley which came to bear his name. Roenhelm's Valley would eventually take his life and the lives of many of his followers, and though it still draws adventurers those in Ghaenthgrand have all but written it (and Walther Roenhelm) out of history.

The latter portion of the 6th century brought a radical shift in population to Ghaenthgrand. Many of the territory's current towns were already in place, but settlers were also startling to look west to Drolund. Though it was many years before passage through the Godspine Mountains would be opened the Republic was already thinking of such prospects and in 568 AS started their work on the road west through Ghaenthgrand. Nearly every settlement on the great road grew as a consequence, including a well-to-do town called Hegvard on the banks of the Goodsea. The road proved so prosperous that Hegvard soon became the largest town in the region. Still, most states and districts within the territory continued to operate independently for the next 180 years as the Republic spread throughout Vitaveus. What few decisions concerning Ghaenthgrand as a whole continued to take place in Fieldstone until the official proclamation of the Republic in 749 AS. With Ghaenthgrand's declaration as a territory the capital was moved to the more centrally located Hegvard.

Aside from some mild rivalry between Rathyn and Hegvard, Ghaenthgrand has continued to prosper throughout the years.

Torment

Ghaenthgrand has been spared many of the horrors of the Torment, undoubtedly due to most of it's territorial holdings consisting of powerful Prelacy Parish estates and baronies of whom had been able to weather the initial outbreaks with ease. Ghaenthgrand continues to remain stalwart in the face of the Torment, although since the 1320s, numerous patches it's sprawling grasslands have been claimed by new construction - namely in the form of temporary camps, settlements and relief villages for displaced Republic citizenry from both overcrowded Municipalities in the Baronies as well as evacuated Townships in the Midlands.

Points of Interest

Chapterhouse of the Knights of the Walls Throughout history the prosperous and fortunate have always had a desire for exclusivity, and in Ghaenthgrand those men are found in the Rathyn Expanse. Amidst the sprawling crops and field walls there is a fort where, for all practical purposes, none has a reason to exist. This is the Chapterhouse of the Knights of the Walls, the headquarters of a fraternal organization comprised of influential Prelacy men from all over central Vitaveus.

Such chivalric orders have existed in many different forms all throughout the Republic. Though holding no power in any official capacity, they tend to draw membership from powerful people in society and in that regard the Chapterhouse of the Knights of the Walls is no different. The group claims to have been founded by Martus Rathyn himself in 530 AS, though due to their unnecessarily secretive ways this cannot be confirmed.

Much of the clubs traditions and practices are a secret, members rarely speak openly of their involvement, and access to the Chapterhouse is forbidden to anyone but full members. Still, it is hard to point to anything malicious about the group and indeed “the Walls”, as they are colloquially called, are often associated with charitable works in central Vitaveus.

Principle Falls & Katrina's Tears

The Principle Falls can be considered the headwaters of the Broken-Hearted River. At the falls three rivers which flow out of the Godspine Mountains come together before plunging over a sheer cliff face in a 75 foot drop. Though quite a site, the falls are rarely visited due to their secluded nature. Evidence suggests this may not always have been the case; rough stone steps have been carved into the cliffside leading from the base of the falls to the peak. Who did this or why remains a mystery, but they seem to predate any settlements in the region.

Stranger still are the similarities they bear to other stone carvings that can be found some 220 miles to the southeast. Katrina's River is not the only geographical feature to bear Katrina Yudoras' name. On its way out of the foothills to join the Broken-Hearted River in the north, Katrina's River passes through a series of lakes that have come to be known as Katrina's Tears. The lakes, collectively much smaller than Goodsea or Lake Volg, are serene, out of the way places that are rarely visited. Again, this was not always the case; stone steps can be found carved into lakeside bluffs and many of the lakes even possess wreckage from what might have been crude stone tables. That such remnants can be found without any trace of actual settlements is a perplexing mystery and one still unanswered to this day.

Roenhelm's Valley

High up in the Eternal Range, at the northernmost tip of the mountains, there is a place that few venture. It is a valley, some 3800 miles square in area, secluded by a craggy rim encircling it. It is called Roenhelm's Valley, though Ghaenthgrand locals who speak of it (if they speak of it at all) simply call it the Cauldron.

Though rumors passed on by explorers and scouts had circulated, the area did not truly come into focus until 542 AS, when Walther Roenhelm led a group of pilgrims up into the Eternal Range and then down into the auspicious valley. There was no word for several months until a quarter of Roenhelm's party returned, bringing with them morbid tales of the valley. It was a wonder some of them had made it out alive, for nearly all of them seemed to be afflicted with some type of unknown flux. Fatigued and weary, they took as many as three months to recover from the strange sickness. Though those who tended to the refugees never fell ill, their patients were clearly afflicted with something; in addition to more common symptoms such as headaches and nausea, many lost hair, fingernails and teeth. Even more had strange rashes or discolorations near their armpits, throats and groins.

Perhaps more disturbing than their unusual malady were the stories they told of their journey into Roenhelm's Valley. With their words they painted a picture of a dusty basin hardly able to sustain life. The plants that grew in the rocky soil were withered and stunted. They had seen no animals save for the dogs and mules they had brought with them. And as they traveled deeper into the valley they claimed Walther Roenhelm himself became more and more disconnected from the reality of their situation. He claimed that Katrina Yudoras was speaking to him from beyond the grave, leading them onward to the site upon which they would build a monastery and unlock the secrets of Ascendance. Unwilling to follow Roenhelm's apparent delusions any longer, the small splinter group left in the night. They were not pursued.

Despite the ill portents, the tale of Walther Roenhelm and his Decusian monastery live on, drawing desperate men and women from all over Vitaveus to the Cauldron. The Venerated Inquisition Corps has organized missions in 591 AS and 688 AS to put an end to the persistent sacrilege, though each group eventually returned empty-handed.

The valley remains unsettled and any who venture into it seem to contract the strange malady that afflicted the original refugees. Most recover, though some die suddenly years later to a vicious wasting disease with symptoms identical to the original flux. The Church has quietly declared the area forbidden, though there is no effort in place to stop people from entering. Even if there was, it seems to be a moot point; most who enter seldom return.

Inspirations and Influences

Anglo-Saxon, Camelot - Arthurian Legend. Traditional example names such as Theobald, Baldric, Bella and Anabel are common for those hailing from Ghaenthgrand.

Heston

Geography

Heston is nestled between some of the most vibrant and beautiful Provinces within the Midlands and Eastern Baronies, which in turn forms a interesting and breathtaking array of landscape features that bring Heston its unforgettable charm. Large yew trees encroaching from Athaerun, the rolling hills of poppy flowers from Virrenul, and some of the beautiful freshwater springs that run from the Godspine itself all lend themselves to the splendor that Heston claims dominion over. The dales of Heston are something to be admired in the summer and the fall, as the colors change and the vegetation is still in full bloom. The largest quantities of exports such as potatoes, cabbage, onions and tomatoes come from the various agricultural Townships and occasional Municipalities of Heston, which makes the territory critically important to sustaining the Republic with fresh food supplies.

History

Heston is a region that has long been settled by some of the first men to walk Vitaveus. Although the region is named Heston, the people from the region do not call themselves in some sort of variation of the name, as Heston simply implies “from the bushwood enclosure”. They are in essence like the Republic itself, a melting pot of mixing cultures from the surrounding regions, which in part played a vital aspect in their assimilation to the Venerated Republic at the time of the Reckoning. Natives of Heston are often known for their reserved but tempered response, while some may argue that their mannerisms border on the behavior of laziness and lackluster enthusiasm, especially when it comes to the hustle and bustle of cities such as Greatport.

Historically, the peoples of Heston showed an affinity and admiration of the natural world, and as such some of the more rural areas of the territory had been rife with all manners of paganism and earth-based worship. When it came to the Reckoning however, Heston was conquered in but a few short months. So notorious was the quick assimilation of the region into the Decusian empire that tales still speak of the weak-willed nature of the native peoples, with sayings such as “people from Heston have yellow bellies and lead in their shoes“ being commonplace. These sentiments are easily misguided and far from the pulse of what the people of Heston are like in reality - for many rumor that the pagans of Heston were such in tune with their earthly roots, they had foreseen the arrival of Decusians long before they ever stepped foot upon Vitaveus. For this reason, they opted to preserve the beauty of their lands rather than stain them red with the blood of the fallen in a futile attempt to resist the inevitable; indoctrination by the Decusian war machine.

People from Heston look like an amalgamation of Aedaens, Easterings, Virrenians, and Athaerians; their skins ranging from sunkisses to pale, brown eyes to light blues and greens, and even blonde hair to raven black. Their settlements were typically small and built in naturally open spaces as to bring little disturbance to the natural world; using mud and stone to erect buildings with thatched roofs. In modern times, however, sprawling development of large cities has taken rise, yet a consideration to aesthetics as well as impact on the local environment has always guided any sort of development within the territory. Inexplicably, Heston has retained much of its' grandeur while also bearing home to some of the largest populated areas west of the Baronies.

Torment

Paganistic groups from the dales have made public attempts to thwart and push back the efforts of the encroaching Torment from more caustic and problematic Provinces like Aedenshyr, Virrenul and even Redholme. However, these practitioners of the Old are no members of the Consortium, and as such are deemed apostates, no matter what good intent them seem to serve. Consortium Circle members have been operating within the dales for a while now, and suspect that these apostates were supported by the Moorwick circle in Virrenul, which subsequently saw to the destruction of its members by the Church and its more devote Auditorii. This in turn as made the pagans who are trying to stem the tide of the Torment hostile to Republic interference, afraid that they may do more harm than good in trying to bring them to the Flame, as the world around them is coming closer to going up in flames itself. Do to this flagrant disregard to Decusian laws and culture, as well as the significance of the territory in terms of pure agricultural worth, the Church has focused a significant effort into flooding Heston with Legion and Templar forces; not because of the Torment, but to systematically eradicate any and all whom would promote or harbor the pagan groups and their wicked magics from the face of Vitaveus. Much to the dismay of many in the higher echelons of the Legion and Church leaderships, tens of thousands of soldiers have been committed to chasing down what amounts to less than a few thousand practitioners, and as a result, has turned Heston into a modern-day witch hunter's paradise.

Points of Interest

d’Abre Cour

The manor of a once wealth and powerful Prelacy family who held large dominion over Heston, d’Abre Cour sat amidst the rolling poppy fields as they breached out of Virrenul and into the dales. The owner of the manor, a Prelacy family with the surname of Comberstack, began to make attempts to tax goods both exported and imported into the region to assist with the efforts of the Republic in keeping order within the post-Torment territory. However, these efforts were a front, and the Comberstacks were funneling the money to pay for their lavish tastes in heretical literature. When a local Templar Chapter heard word of the Comberstack's deceit, the Chapter seized their lands, and executed all those even associated with the Prelacy family, to include hundreds of serfs.

Coquelicot

A small but bustling city resting halfway between the border of Redholme and Keluben, Coquelicot was named after the rolling poppy flower hills that reach into the Province and part around the settlement in a beautiful perimeter display. This settlement is well defended compared to many of the much smaller hamlets that dot the landscape, as the people of Heston make every attempt to not disrupt the growth or natural beauty of Eden; a view expressed very differently from their neighbors to the South in Aedenshyr, who pride themselves on modern advancements in machine and steel.

Inspirations and Influences Celtic and Gaelic. Traditional example names such as Bryn, Rowan, Gwyneth and Morgan are common for those hailing from Heston.

Ostenam

Geography

Coniferous trees paint the landscape of Ostenam, with rocks and the forest floors covered in thick coats of lichen. The air is thick with fog that rolls through almost year round, only breaking when the Flame reaches the highest points in the sky. The landscape of the region begins to slope into a lowland when pushing further East away from the Godspine Mountains and the Galehorn Mountains that give Ostenam its sturdy Western backbone. Strong waterfalls off the Godspine fall into the province and form the many rivers that cut through the middle of Ostenam, making their way South by Southeast and forming many of the lakes on their Southern border, including the famous Lake Volg. While mostly unsuited for large-scale agricultural use, the region of Ostenam is important to the Republic primarily for its' mass production and easy transportation via. waterways of lumber. The majority of Ostenam's population hubs are situation around the shores of Lake Volg, but other notable cities can also be found at the base of the Godspine as well.

History

Ostenam is one of three nations that, until the arrival of the Decusian Faith and the Venerated Republic, was embroiled in constant skirmishes and raids to establish itself the rightful power within Vitaveus among its rivals: Volgen and Drolund. Though not concerned with establishing an outright Empire, the nations of Ostenam, Drolund and Volgen all conspired to exert exclusive rights of rule throughout the region, with their key goals being to establish a form of taxation for both currency and valued good, along with rights to land claims and wild game within the regions. This drive originates from an ancient period of warring tribes that once converged to a singular people, and for many who first visit each of these Midland provinces, the vestiges of these ancient cultures seem one in the same at face value.

The ancient people of Ostenam were a pale skinned and dark of hair and eyes folk. They remain among the tallest people within Vitaveus, and their frames are usually bulky and big boned, and native Osteins still retain much of their pale skin and dark hair identifiers. Their size however should not dismay someone from thinking they are no more than mere cumbersome bulls, as the people of Ostenam have a rich history of being some of the best hunters and trackers to stalk Eden. Their ancient culture is one of seldom words, and to share such tongues with folks even if a mere single word is a sign of respect in their eyes; “No prey hears its stalker,” as the Osteins (Aws-tee-nhs) say in regards to their shortness from outsiders.

When the Republic entered the Ostenam during the Reckoning, they had their hands full in dealing with the local populace as their guerrilla tactics proved to be a nuisance to their larger forces and their garrison positions, harassing them at every cost. What seized the region for them was not just their enduring presence or their might in large scale battles, but a single military stroke of luck that saw the thane of an area known as Tills brought to the sword by a small group of Legionnaires who sought revenge for their brethren in battle after being displaced from the bulk of the Legions forces in Ostenam. By breaking through the sentries in the dead of night and slaying the thane in his sleep, the Osteins took this as a sign that they had become prey to an apex predator, the Republic, and agreed to bend the knee to the conquering Decusians on their war path. To this day, the near mythical tale of how Ostenam's armies of thousands were brought to heel by but a handful of Legionnaires is cited ad nausea in basic training of all the branches of the Republic's military programs.

Post-assimilation, Ostenam found a niche within the Empire quickly. Their capability for conducting quick and brutally effective raids, along with their gifted talents in tracking, saw to their people as being highly regarded among the Legion and Templar. Ostenam itself never possessed a true religion of its own, and thus were able to be adopted into the Decusian faith with little resistance. As such, little of traditional Ostenam beliefs remain today.

Torment

The Torment is an interesting beast when it comes to the territory and provinces of Ostenam. On one side, the fringes of the territory are being slowly encroached upon by its manic death and destruction from the farmlands of Drolund. On the other, near Volgen, the Lake is showing signs of Torment, where schools of fish are washing ashore in malformed and misshapen husks. Tills, for example, is now being supplied most of its waters through aquifers produced by runoffs of the Galehorn Mountains, however, the disease has shown up in pockets around Tills, where some of the outlying villages have been quarantined or outright eradicated. Despite this, Ostenam remains strong and more than 80% of the region is still inhabitable. Yet while the Torment does not claim this land, another menace does. Reports of neopaganistic activity, situated mostly in the western edges of Ostenam, are commonplace. Some even believe that the uncanny prosperity Ostenam has seen in resisting being wholly consumed by the Torment is due to the dark and ancient magics perpetrated by these blasphemous heathens.

Points of Interest

Tills

Along the rivers that feeding into Lake Volg and the Goodsea, Tills is a major logging and ferry junction for the bulk of the Republics lumber production throughout the Midlands. Along with serving as the home to countless lumber mills and ferries, Tills also claims to be the base of operations for one of the most important military academies for the Venerated Republic, the Republic Citadel. It is here that many of Inquisitor and Templar forces whom operate in more clandestine operations on behalf of their Empire hone their skills and temper their wit, far from the distracting influences of the Eastern Baronies. The training here is brutal, and it is not uncommon to hear of countless deaths occurring due to it, as troops here can often spend years within Tills and the surrounding regions learning advanced survival skills and training in tracking techniques often taught by the descendants of local Ostein peoples.

Inspirations and Influences

Tarkine Forest, Australia. Traditional example names such as Isaac, Arlo, Harper and Evie are common for those hailing from Ostenam.

Volgen

Geography

Volgen is a moorish highland with barren crag-like hills that roll into the Freemantle Range, where the breathtaking Prelate’s Peak resides. It is butted up against the First Province, along with the mountains that border it and Arkhess; to its Northwestern border is Ostenam, along with ones of its largest exporters, Yultac, where most of their wool trade is sent. Within Volgen are a few streams and rivers, but Volgen boasts some of the largest and most abundant bodies of water throughout its Province, the largest of these being Lake Volg.

History

Volgen is one of three nations that, until the arrival of the Decusian Faith and the Venerated Republic, was embroiled in constant skirmishes and raids to establish itself the rightful power within Vitaveus among its rivals: Ostenam and Drolund. Though not concerned with establishing an outright Empire, the nations of Ostenam, Drolund and Volgen all conspired to exert exclusive rights of rule throughout the region, with their key goals being to establish a form of taxation for both currency and valued good, along with rights to land claims and wild game within the regions. This drive originates from an ancient period of warring tribes that once converged to a singular people, and for many who first visit each of these Midland provinces, the vestiges of these ancient cultures seem one in the same at face value.

The Volgen people, once known as the Volgs (Vol-g-z) were a chiefdom clan based group of people who have established their presence within the crag-like highlands on the Eastern end of the Midlands. This region gives little in the form of fertile soil, and as such, most of their harvests come from much more heartier plants that are indigenous to the region and wild growing. Their main form of nourishment that provided them with sustenance were the moor-headed sheep that are still abundant throughout the region. The Volg throughout ancient history, well before the arrival of the Decusian faith, began to domestic these sheep for their benefit. What ancestor they may have shared with the common sheep in the Eastern Provinces today is no doubt lost from breeding, but none the less, Volgen remains known for it's livestock.

Due to the nomadic needs and grazing patterns of these sheep, historically Volg people could not pen them in and thus, early Volg developed a nomadic lifestyle solely; many of the herdsmen and rangers of the Volg spent months away from their hearth and home just to maintain their flock. It is a lonely business for such folk, but they were not without the faithful company of some notoriously famous companions: the Volgen Retriever. This stout and wire-haired beast with a broad but short snout was undying in its loyalty to its handlers, who had grown up along sides these four legged hounds since man the first men walks Vitaveus. They make for great flushing dogs and hunt in packs that seem to indoctrinate their handlers into the pack hierarchy at the apex position. Today, they are not only used to help range in the sheep, but also as Legion sentries, guard dogs and even as pedigree show dogs among aristocratic Easterners of the Prelacy.

When the Reckoning took hold of the territory of Volgen, the men and women of the Volg quickly became favored for their extensive knowledge in animal breeding and herding techniques, their hounds becoming quickly integrated into the Legion and Templar forces to act as force multipliers. This importance laid upon their prized hounds brought the Volg people a greater sense of purpose, and hopes to eventually crush their rivals, which became a reality as they bent the knee in homage and absolute fealty to the Venerated Republic without so much as a few months worth of resistance

Torment

The Torment remains a major issue within the region, which isn’t anything new for those living in these dark times. However, the Volg people are beginning to become restless. When The First Province fell, many of it's former inhabitants had begun to flock to the other territories within the Baronies. However, many chose to evacuate further west, namely to that of Volgen. This influx of refugees has put a damper on the herds of sheep the territory is famously known for, as poaching has become a rising threat to the herdsmen and their flocks. The final nail in the coffin for many within the territory has been the contamination of Lake Volg, where many Municipalities and townships are seated around. Thus, many whom reside in these affected cities and villages have begun to blame the refugees that have flocked to their cities and towns for spreading their sickness to the waters, tainting their fish and soiling their water - resulting in a very xenophobic and sometimes violent reaction to newcomers.

Points of Interest

Lake Volg

This lake rests as a natural border between Ghaenthgrand and Ostenam, on its westernmost limit. Many of the settlements and cities that the Volg people inhabit are dotted around these lakes; the harsh terrain of the region makes it hard for transporting goods, particularly their prized wools to surrounding nations of the Republic. These lakes and their waterways allow for the Volg people to transport their stocks by boat, however, the trip has become tumultuous, as Lake Volg has become contaminated with the Torment. Fish wash ashore in amalgamated husks, and ferrymen have reported seeing large creatures surfacing from the watery depths to swallow men whole.

Inspirations and Influences Yorkshire Moors. Traditional example names such as Albert, Victor, Brea and Fiona are common for those hailing from Volgen.

Yultac

Geography

Yultac is beautiful in all measure of the word; lush green rolling hills, ancient birch trees, and bountiful waterways feeding into the Caddoch Sea from both the Galehorn Mountains and the Lake of Volgan all bring out the natural beauty that Yultac has to offer. This highland territory offers steep plateaus that cut down into valleys and rolling hills that increase in scale as they move Westward against the Galehorn Mountains. Settlements and trade posts litter the countryside, and all roads lead to the North, where the Port of Dwindain resides, the beating heart of the territory proper.

History

The Yult people of the Yultac highlands were traditionally a pale flesh people with lighter colored hair and eyes of blue and greenish hues. Compared to the size of other Midlanders, they were slightly shorter build with a coarse hair. Many joke of their excessive body hair, and a common phrase in the Midlands is “a Yult would sell you the hair on his back if it meant an extra copper.” The Yults were a people gifted in trade and commerce, and the early development of their written and spoken language which spread like wildfire throughout the Midlands pre-arrival of the Decusian war-machine is indicative of this.

During the Reckoning, some resistance was give among the Midlands to the conquests marching upon their homes. The ancient Yults, however, saw the invading Decusian forces as an opportunity to bring about wealth and prosperity to their fiefdoms by opening their borders freely to the Imperial machine, welcoming it with open arms, unlike many other early peoples of Vitaveus. The Yults were also a faithless lot, and as such, had no qualms with taking on the religious and ritual practices of an invading force if it means that further trade can be conducted to better suit their needs. As such, the Decusian faith was embraced with open arms, and all effigies to paganistic practices within less-enlightened provinces of the territory were toppled with little more than a stifled yawn.

Due to the historical wealth and abundance associated with the region throughout history, many members of the Clergy lavish the opportunity to be sent to the region, as it is far from the eyes of Redholme and Tor, and the Yult traders have no issues with lining the pockets of established church officials in order to get extended favors and indulgences.

The Yultish Language

The Yult people were one of the first to develop a standardized writing system along with a pattern of speech that borrowed from many of the surrounding Midland tribal groups and fiefdoms. Due to their extensive trade networks and this development of a common writing system, their language began to spread to the surrounding territories; those who wished to trade with them found the language similar in ways to their own, and quite easy to pick up, borrowing on a similar lexicon of tones and patterns. Furthermore, as many of the surrounding fiefdoms lacked a writing system, relying on oral traditions and recollection, picking up the Yultish writing system only bolstered the capabilities of communication within the Midlands; for both its own politics and religious practices, but also its trading efforts with surrounding regions.

Torment

The Torment is beginning to make its way into the Northern reaches of the Midlands, and even though these cases are few and far between, what has hurt Yultac most is that the other surrounding regions are suffering heavily from the Resolvist plague. This has placed a heavier burden on their trade routes, having to take extra measures to protect their traders, caravaneers, and any perishable imports they’ve come across. Provinces like Ghaenthgrand have all but cut trade ties with the Yultian border cities, as their plight with the Torment on the Western front has brought them on the brink of calamity and destruction. Due to all this, many less reputable or skilled traders have been forced to uproot their shops and coteries for better commercial opportunities elsewhere in Vitaveus.

Points of Interest

Port of Dwindain

Resting on the Northern edge of Yultac, this port city is the major economic seat of the Yult people and the Republic efforts in the Midlands. During the Reckoning, Port Dwindain was used as a staging point for Imperial forces, as it is the last port on the route West along the Caddoch Sea and its deadly squalls that capsize smaller vessels.

Edring’s Monolith A large black obelisk that stands almost squarely in the middle of the Yultac province, Edring’s Monolith has been given its moniker for its unfortunate circumstances. Many Inquisitors who have actually looked upon the stone have felt a sense of dread and unease, claiming it something foul from a time long forgotten. However, as legend and folklore may have it, a foolish and shrewd trader by the name of Edring held no belief in such preposterous things many years prior to the Decusian assimilation of Yultac. As the stories say, to show those in his employ that there was little to fear of such a stone, Edring attempted to carve his name into the obelisk, cementing a message that it was his shrewd trading prowess that should be feared and whispered about, and not some old rock. Those who watched said that when Edring hit his chisel and hammer against the smooth stone, the man turned into a cloud of red mist, never to be seen again. To this day, the Monolith remains untoppled, seated squarely in the middle of a ridiculously large and walled-in containment area that has been patrolled and guarded by Inquisitor Clergies for centuries.

Galehorn Mine

The Galehorns provide the Midlands with an extravagant amount of minerals and metals that prove vital to both trade and the lifeblood of the Venerated war machine. The Galehorn Mines, named after the very mountains they plunge deep into, have long been abandoned, ripped of any value that Eden once provided. It is now home to many Western refugees, forced to live within the abandoned passages as they’ve little elsewhere to go. Due to this, crime has spiked dramatically along the Galehorn, and thus, many have begun to cite further anti-Western sentiments.

Inspirations and Influences

Ireland. Traditional example names such as Maxwell, Douglas, Ainsley and Kenna are common for those hailing from Yultac.

Vitaveus: Eastern Baronies