Officially this is an organization for people who had direct ancestors who fought in the Returner’s War. It is a quaint historical society.
The Pillar of Zech is a quasi-Masonic secret society that exists throughout the continent of Laurentia. The goals of the Pillar are the active promotion of the Seven Princely Virtues (courage, honour, independence, intelligence, integrity, piety and revenge) across the world.
The Brotherhood’s goal was to preserve traditional Eshal practices and customs, with emphasis being placed on the belief that every member of the tribe mattered and that to ignore his rights and contributions, would result in the Clan collapsing.
Deep within the cold northern ranges live a reclusive tribe of Keirn with knowledge though long lost to the ages. The Fajro Mmang’i roam the frozen wastes with an ancient knowledge glinting in their eye.
The Guilds of Antioch are the most important social group in the region. The Guilds have replaced the Clan as the central social organization of society. Each Guild Head (or representative) meets with the Guild Council to determine laws and policy of Antioch.
Wytchwolde-Under-Ash, once a great Thorpe, was razed to the ground by the ruthless, and truth told more than slightly deranged, Porcelain Princess and her henchmen, the Purifiers. When the flames had at last subsided, and a kaleidoscope of swirling, dull-gray ash choked the sky, nine hundred acres of old growth iron spruce, black larch and weeping birch, was burned to utter cinders, along with the entire coven of witches comprising the Sisterhood of the Silver Teat.
Now, centuries later, the forests are somewhat re-grown, and the town of Foolswater stands where Wytchwolde-Under-Ash once did. It is said that even to this day, one can still find ashes in the otherwise potable well-water of this village. Once a year during the Winter Solstice, the “Ash-Wind” comes to Foolswater, a suffocating black cloud that passes quickly but leaves dead birds and animals in its wake, darkening the trees, and staining the sky with black snow. The inhabitants of the village know better than to be caught outside during the day-long Ash-Wind. Everyone is locked snugly inside, singing old hymns that curse and re-curse the burned witches who once called this place home.