The three Duchies of Bordevar hold within them more than simple livelihoods. To cast your eye across Starscar is to see ash and remember flame. To cast your eye across Heartsgrave is to see the wounds of battle and remember the pain of loss. To cast your eye across Everguarde is to see gouged earth and remember sacrifice. Weiland has lost as much as the people who would call it home.
But a home is to be lived in, and wear is to be expected. To be hardy is to be Bordevarian, and to grow anew a crop once lost is key to surviving the winter. There are seeds of action to be laid across the Duchies of Weiland, and even now there are some that show signs of sprouting.
Will they grow to be crops worthy of harvesting, or shall they wilt beneath the pressure of actionable existence?
A Spark Beneath the Ashen Hill
The eastern duchy of Weiland has long since earned its name of Starscar. While for the longest of time it was simply home to Arbington and The Lenscaster Hills, both places of hard living, it would also come to encompass The Stand and each of The Five Border Forts that dot passage into Royal Bordevar. For the longest time Starscar would stare to the east, to the foes and history that remain there, fending off invasion after invasion in the hopes that Bordevar does not continue to fall.
It would even burn for this duty.
Barely a year ago, the craggy scrublands of Starscar would turn to ash under the order of Duke Sigismund. An act that would severely hinder The Onyx Aristocracy, but would sacrifice near all the land from north to south in the process. A sacrifice that would replace deep green with suffocating grey and charcoal. The duchy would earn its name anew, beneath the hands and decisions of Heroes, all for the sake of its people and future. Neither of which would forsake such a thing as unnecessary.
The stark ashen landscape would become the marker of Starscar: key to its identity, true scars of survival shared by land and body alike. Fires that once burned uncontrollably, now reduced to manageable cinders. Bodies that once littered the land, now buried beneath The Stand. Even under the divine growth of The Wondrous Forests, the shrubs and scant few trees rise once more, now fundamentally changed; ashen and grey.
In the past Season alone, under orders from The Senate under the motion of Senator Louisoix, The Feral Fields begin to be once more revitalised. A piece of history going so far back as the Endemani people, this farmland has sat ruined and abandoned for generations, believed to be cursed or haunted. Such rumours would not phase the people of Starscar; so recent had been their dealings with the dead that dealing with yet more would pose no problem. While work has been slow, what with the ruined farmland smothered beneath layers of ash and dirt, such a thing hints at the promise of a better future - one built upon the bones and scars of the past.
Despite this, many ask themselves what a future in Stascar actually looks like.
Is the clearing of The Feral Fields truly a way to reclaim the past for the future, or will it merely dredge up yet more wounds to heal? Are the charcoal trees and ashen scrubs a blessed reminder of what was gained, or a harsh recollection of what was sacrificed? Is the past to be a thing of remembrance and memory, or is it instead best to simply use it as a tool to move forward towards the future?
Such thoughts among the grey ash of Starscar are common, but yet another surfaces atop the charcoal.
Perhaps there was something in the flames to reach for? A fire that should never have left the bellies and souls of its people. Embers that remain to be stoked and turned once more into a blaze. A fury, a wrath, a righteousness that should ignore its scars in favour of more. A heat that should radiate, and burn others alongside it.
Starscar sits before a metaphorical crossroads, its path torn between ash and ember.
Game Information
There are rumblings within Starscar that change is on the horizon. Affected by the past, both recent and historic, the people of the eastern duchy discuss what the future will become. Some argue that to embrace the ash is to embrace remembrance and sacrifice. Others argue that within embers a blaze can be stoked, and it is this fervour that will carry the torch of tomorrow.
While no major cultural changes have yet occurred, nor disagreements turned physical among the more violent members of the duchy, the people look to the heroes for guidance. Is one path worth following more than another? Are either paths worthy at all?
The Duke of Starscar and Sheriff of Arbington should expect information or opportunities regarding the future path of Starscar and its people.
In addition, The Feral Fields commission has begun, with 1 Season of work finished. The Fields are expected to be clear and begin production by the Spring Summit of 225.
Bordevarian Characters who associate with Starcar may elect to follow either of the below roleplay prompts:
“To burn something down is to create ash, and with ash we can grow anew. We should remember the sacrifice, use it in any way we can, that it won’t happen again”
OR
“Stoke the embers of our souls, let them blaze. In fire and fury we will not suffer again.”
The Middle of Your Ocean, Here I Sit
The heft of stone and endless shouting of eager labour would fill the giant chasm near Carningsfield over the Summer Season.
Local stonemasons and engineers, alongside too many labourers to name, would put coin and material to use as soon as it landed in their hands. Heroes of Bordevar, working for ambition and care of their land, would see a great dam risen between Lake Ladure and The Crystal Maw, cutting off the flow of water into the earthen rift. The dam would be considered costly by many, but the coin and Arcstone alike would appear nonetheless, and the people of Carningsfield would finally be given chance to work towards remedying the carnage amidst their territory.
Little could stop the energy of those who worked. Bright eyes, cheerful smiles, and songs to sing every day until the task was done. Muddy boots, hands or tools would barely be a hindrance. Chiseled stone would be carted and carried no matter how many it took to move it, complaints only coming from those who wanted to move more and faster. Even the presence of many moths would not bother the hard-working people of Everguarde in their ever so focused and important task.
It would not take long for the measly wooden slats, struggling to withstand the pressure of the lake as they were, to be replaced by Arcstone keystones and solid stone blocks, many layers thick.
Each day would see stone stacked atop stone, ordered and directed by the mouths and minds of those who envisioned their placement. Metalsmiths from Weiland Township, ever the proudest of their trade, would see great iron slats forged and installed - to be the arbiters of what water may freely pass from Lake Ladure. There would be no gaps, no leaks, not even a drop of water that would be able to pass without permission through this structure.
As the days turned to weeks, and the weeks to months, the crenellations of the dam would stand well above the land around it. Its appearance would rival the fortresses that stand in Starscar, less than half their size but no less impressive in make and purpose. Filing a space dozens of meters wide and yet more long, a marvel of stone that would see its worth paid in full.
The dam itself, so large as it would be, would finally and literally bridge the two sides of Everguarde together again. Sturdy enough to allow two large carts to travel side by side across its top, and well paved thanks to the foresight of its creators, a great and massive boon for those that had found travel from Weiland difficult since The Maw’s appearance. Trade would once again come to, and easily leave, Carningsfield and beyond.
The final day of work, where the final stone would settle into place, would be overseen by an assortment of Priors, and even some few Shardcircle Passel researchers. The Priors would give a great prayer atop its tallest point, their voices echoing through the deep ravine of The Maw behind them, granting them all the more presence for it. As the prayer ended, and the work would finally be complete, all present would cheer so loud that even residents of Weiland Township swore they could hear it when asked.
Finally, after so long and after so much concern and worry, the first step towards the healing of Everguarde’s wound would be made.
Game Information
The completion of this project of great stone, a massive dam between Lake Ladure and The Crystal Maw, would see some of the damage done to Everguarde finally mitigated. This dam, large and strong due its Arcstone foundations and heavy stone blocks, would function not just to halt the flow of water into The Maw, but also as a wide bridge across the ravine, once again allowing easier travel through Everguarde.
This travel, by the nature of encouraging trade and movement of goods, has resulted in a slight taxation boon for Weiland.
The creation of the dam, and further information around its effects on The Crystal Maw, has been included within The Shardcircle’s Passel Research from this past Season.
A great topic of conversation around the dam has been its name. While its creators had argued back and forth over what to call it, eventually the decision to not name it would carry the greatest votes. The naming of the dam would be left to whoever takes the mantle of Duke of Everguarde, whensoever such a Title becomes available. Such is the request of the people of Carningsfield.
Sickness Is a Place Where No One Can Follow
Thricefield is a place on the small side of a hamlet, perhaps far enough to not even be called a hamlet. A friendship between three families lead to their farm houses being built in shouting distance of one-another. Which, in turn, led to a tavern to celebrate marriages. Which, in turn, led to a church to honour funerals. These things led to a half dozen other farm houses, a shared granary, and the other minutiae repeated time and time again in the worked fields of Heartsgrave. Eventually the land became notable enough that its management gained Noble attention in the form of House Hallowmere, whose cadet branch built a manor nearby to overlook the fields and their common folk, the sigil of an open book on deep blue flying confidently over Thricefield.
But to walk the streets of Thricefield in the Autumn of 225 would bring forward a very different sight. Empty wind blowing down from the Manor and its mountains no longer compete against the giggle of children or the mutterings of oxen. The clatter of abandoned doorways are deafening in the absence of good conversation. The oppressive silence of dereliction hangs heavy.
The people of Thricefield are hidden away in basements, the cellars, and in one great huddle in the granary. First they felt unwell, their eyes bloodshot and their throats hoarse with cough. Then they panicked; their tears were blood and their minds lost in the pink mist. Then they fled the light, hiding away in rooms and places that were vast and dark. This far from the eaves of The Weald, the simple people of Thricefield didn’t know what reaper stalked among their township before its ichorous scythe had already swept across them.
Their priest had no solutions, a simple woman of Lumos and the fields. Their merchant had no ideas as this was not a bickering of coin or distance. Their Noble protector was wracked with fear, illness sweeping through his household the same as those beneath him. By the time someone in Weiland Township heard tale of the Bleeding of Thricefield and knew what it meant, it was far too late for the people there.
As the Autumn Summit draws near a barricade can be found on Modwyn’s Way where the small rutted track leads from this thoroughfare to abandoned Thricefield. In the distant fields there is a scattering of other camps where guards from Weiland and Arbington stand watch, stopping greedy looters from breaking the quarantine and ensuring those ravens that take wing from Thricefield find only arrows for their winged trouble. Representatives from the Sheriff make their way to the Hallowmere manor, hoping to meet with the Noble administrator, but find the same death here, only clad in finer clothes.
Blasserstreit has come to Weiland and while knowledge of the disease has forestalled its spread, how it reached its cancerous claw this far from The Weald is a mystery most unsettling.
Game Information
An outbreak of Blasserstreit in south-western Heartsgrave has destroyed the small town of Thricefield. While a full investigation has not been conducted, there are currently no survivors. While Thricefield was not a large settlement, its grain was of considerable worth, both in Weiland and abroad. As such all Farm investments in Heartsgrave and Everguarde will find they have produced more this past season as the market wants for Heartsgrave wheat and barley.
Currently there is no knowledge of how the disease reached Thricefield without passing through larger townships to the north.
There will be additional information and decisions for the Duke of Heartsgrave, Sheriff of Weiland, and Senator of Weiland.
Further reading at Winds of the World - Autumn 225