Fearsome horsemen from the plains, they raid, trade, and run.
The Pegorans are an ancient culture of people that have left their unique marks upon the world.
Prowling the wild seas of Acqua like the ravenous raiders that they are, these militant priests of Holy Jove are sworn to their sacred mission of destroying the unbelievers and infidels wherever they may be found on the open ocean.
Scents of ages past and scents of the zeitgeist. A guild of perfumers.
"I walked through the poor’s quarters, and my eye was not harmed. All functional, and simple, and crude, made on the whims of fate and delivered by immediate need.
I walked through the merchant’s quarters, and my eye was bored. Pretensions where nothing backed them, striving for appearance without substance, evidence of changing wealth, too much only began, too much never finished.
I walked through the place where the powerful lived, and my eye was tired. Too much of attempted beauty turned hideous, and a lack of taste was made worse by willing lackeys.
But then I’ve seen the treasure of the city. A cathedral, that was part of the sky, columns, and arches to carry the weight of the world, shapes to let your mind fly along, and ornaments to stop by. A place to ponder, to be pleased to be alive, to accept suffering, and to realize your mistakes. This is a place I could learn from."
The mightiest champion of the Great Empire had a vision, a vision that his heirs still follow…
The Azure Lions Company is a mercencary company of some repute. With the motto of “Strength of Arms, Body, and Spirit”.
‘‘We are the Lords Of The Straits, Rulers Of the Sea, and the very ocean acknowledges us as Her children! Men of Pan-Kor, nothing sails on the waters without acknowledging our might !’’
“He is the Astral Harvester, the Lifegiver, the Sun King. Without him, the world is naught. And we, the members of his Divine Church, serve only at his command. It is by this holy order that we convert the universe.”
- Exarch Hardulph Symphorian
Not only a faith but a state, the Imperial Modoals are the largest force in the Continent. Can they hold their position as the Sectarian Wars begin?
"Hear, O Servant of the Just One! Hear and stand ye before him, the Celestial Judge! Hear and write: ‘Thus speaks the Great Lawgiver, before whom the world shall be tried, the one that is just and righteous beyond all - I am the Law. I am Dalraaen.’"
-The Didache of Law
The worshippers of the Celestial Judge have kept peace and law for a thousand years. When they see great injustice across the Continent, what can they do but fight?
“And into World they cast him, deep below, beneath stone and water and flame. In World’s Heart, doth gape the Peccant Maw, yet starved as the hunger grows unabated. Terror, irony, horror, farce! That which ends all is trapped beneath all.”
-The Tale of the Maw, “The Enslavement of the Devourer”
An ancient cult, the Vautuans worship their god with zeal. Chaos is their sacrament, death their prayer. Will the followers of the Gaping Maw free their god and destroy the world?
“Don’t be a Yak.” A common Ocadian saying.
"Let their bodies be consumed, so that their souls may be healed" (Consumption 1-1)
If you wake up in a field of green grass, looking at a woman of flesh and steel. Be glad, you are dead. If you wake up covered in blood and shit, be gladder still. For you are alive and your time is not yet come!
Considered to be misshapen freaks or demonic menaces by the superstitious, these many-armed people dwell as outcasts on the fringes of human society, abused and reviled.
A History of The League of Fox
A series of letters concerning Thurgul, his followers, and the High Priest Yannuzar.
Few men truly know the Earth Children and their enigmatic rulers, the Loresingers. These keepers of ancient secrets are among the greatest allies, and the most subtle enemies, that humanity could ever know.
Black Sword is a private military corporation, a company hired as security or to supplement governmental military forces. In Black Sword’s case, it is to supplement their special operations forces.
The mists of the northlands are as incessant as the cries of the crows or the everpresent boughs of the multitudes of elm, oak, and yew.
A culture believes that souls are recycled. One child gets half of a soul, another child gets the other half. However, this means that with each passing generation, the amount of soul in the child will become less and less (Through division)until their culture will die in the future because of their soulless offspring.