Factions & Magic
The Dread Elves possess the elven affinity for magic
almost as strongly as their noble kin. Yet where the
Highborn have a focus on the world around them, the
true power of magic for the elves of Silexia lies within
the mind. Even without magic, they are masters of
manipulating emotions, fear most of all. Augmented
with the power of the Immortal Realm, they are able
to strike terror into the hearts of a most resolute foe.
Their powers also lend weight to their reputation of
striking from fog and shadow, disappearing without a
trace, save for the stories left behind. More than any
of their brethren, they view magic as a military art, an
aid in battle.
In the mists of time, they rebelled against the enigmatic Saurians to become guardians of much of the world, while the ancestors of the Dwarves held the rest. Once they were a single race, yet their united rule could not endure. Even these most graceful of beings are not immune to in-fighting or betrayal. The details are veiled in allegory and myth, but it is clear a great schism rent the Elven peoples asunder, resulting in the three powers we see today.
Dread Elves are a harsher reflection of their brethren. Thesame grace, the same beauty, the same talent, yet the detachment of the Highborn turns to disdain, the caprice of the Sylvan turned to cruelty. Their skills as pirates and reavers are unparalleled; entire coastal communities have fallen to cruel blade and ingenious artillery. The survivors soon find themselves aboard slave galleys and sold to worse fate still.
Their society was forged by war, and shaped further still by an unending feud with their Highborn cousins, a conflict which began with the separation of the Elves thousands of years ago, and shows no sign of ending. Even the gods of the Elves, the holy trinities, have taken on a darker note – blood rituals are widely described by rescued captives of the Dread fleets. Whatever the causes of that conflict, its echoes linger, and with the longevity of Elves, perhaps there are still those who recall the events and maintain ancient enmities.
Fly above the fields of war,
Fly above the bones of the enemy.
Ghastly, grim and ancient Crimson Raven wandering.
From the deadly shore of the battlefields,
Protect our deeds of war and glorify our bleeding weapons,
Exalt our heroes, consume the blood of our victims,
Witness our prowess, witness our strength,
Fly above the fields of war
Fly above the bones of the enemy.
Sources I can find portray a grim
picture of the birth of the nation of
Dathen. It seems that in the First Age of
Ruin, the Highborn's Vetian provinces faced
formiddable threats from barbarian hordes
and dwarven enmity.
Many elves fled into the West, settling in
the colonies that the Pearl Throne had already
established in Silexia, and began to tame that wild
region. Yet this work made them grow resentful of
the Aldan nobles who sought to profit from what they were
building, and who had sent no aid to them in Vetia before.
Aldan's control was rejected, sparking a civil war that coincided
with internal revolt in the Highborn's home island of Celeda Ablan.
It seems that in this war the ruthless spirit of the Dread Host
was born and set forever, and the independence of their nation
secured. To this day, Daeb ships bring terror around the world.
Graduates Today we commend you to the service of the Fatherland, free citizens and true. Your time in the academy is complete, and
you leave as Legionnaire or Auxiliary - a proud soldier of the Republic, bringing great honour to your family.
Bonds you have made in these bloodied courtyards will last a lifetime, and what you do with that life is your own
inalienable right to decide. Some of you will return to your farms, upstanding citizens supporting your family. Some will
enter the politics of Rathaen. And some will join military expeditions or levy them, aiding the great might of our people to
display its unsurpassed strength and will to dominate the world. The very finest of you may even be selected to compete
to be reborn with a new name in the Tower Guard.
Whatever your future holds, whether sailor or warrior, knight or planter, trader or senator, you will never forget what
you have learned here at the academy, and you will never cease your quest for self-perfection.
Citizens of Dathen: I salute you!
The Obsidian Thrones are the very core and symbol of power of the Republic. Upon them, the three Crimson Consuls
embody the will of the Senate, a body of 9 9 elected individuals seated in the Tower of Gar Daecos in Rathaen. But
there are other key players in the Daeb's great game of intrigue, power and ambition - it appears three principal factions
dominate the politics of this land.
At the time of Sonnstahl's birth, our people suffered a terrible assault under the auspices of the first of these: the
Fatherland faction, which seeks to reclaim its lost realms in Vetia. The second, the Motherland Faction, attracts those
who desire dominion over the old Empire and the Republic's greatest enemies:
the Highborn of Celeda Ablan. Finally there
are the Slavers, often popular among the
youngest Daeb, or the most daring on the
seas. Their faction looks only to Silexia as
its homeland, and seeks to build its power
on trade... which in Dathen means slavery.
I call for you, Lord of Matter, Lord of the Senses,
Master of excess, the very essence of life,
For you are the soul of endless pleasure,
Enticing symbol of power and joy.
You are life, you are death, you are lust beyond them,
You are the day and the night of the spirit,
You only choose those who embrace the unity of the darkest delight.
You are the knowable unknown of pleasure, the pathless path to eternity,
The embodiment and the essence of our superiority.
We look for your delight and we pray you
To protect the power of Dathen.
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