The region is yours!
Is "Harmony of the Seasons" the end of your mission tree, or is it one of those that unlocks more missions when you complete the "final" one?
What are your plans now that this phase of unification and conquest are over?
That is the end of Pelomar's tree, but Eordand get its own full tree. The plans are to consolidate, catch up on institutions, and get ready to start expanding into the unknown.
As was always the favourite,
Pelodard, the home of the Oathsworn and site of the Fey embassy, will remain the capital of a united Eordand.
Chapter Five: Harmony's Rebirth
1496-1517
Atop the library ruins, Sakflor, Eordand, 1505
Gentle care, the utmost respect and an open mind. With all these in her thoughts, Knarwen lifted the ancient book onto the table. The stack that sat beside her desk was made up of those in the best condition, sealed away in airtight vaults deep below that had not been breached in the intervening millennia. She stared at the cover, which was made of cracked and hard leather but which still bore the inlaid image of some kind of being halfway between a reptile and an Elf.
Was this an image of a creature that really existed, a story written for Precursor children, or merely symbolic of the contents?
She took out the bronze toothpick-like implements the excavators had provided her and gingerly lifted the cover with them. To her dismay, the first page was unreadable. The ink on the paper had faded, and the paper in turn had wrinkled and discoloured, making it impossible to dinstiguish words from blank space. Perhaps magic could extract something, but she was no druid. She sighed and sat back on her chair, wondering if this was a futile exercise.
"Your majesty," one of her guards said, almost startling her. For a moment, she had forgotten she was not alone. She was not foolish enough to be completely alone, but that did not mean she could not lose herself in her work. He continued, "a petitioner is here, from the guild of metalworkers."
She gestured to the guard and he bowed, before opening the flap of her tent.
A Tuathak entered, a sight that would have been unthinkable in Sakflor in the days when it had been known as Arakeprun. Spring would never have risked the withering of their endlessly blooming groves by the mere presence of one so infused with Autumn. Though, it did seem as though the opposite was happening in this case. The Elf had skin of a healthy yellow colour that seemed almost to be on its way to green, and while his clothes and hair were still done up in the strict Autumnal style, someone had slipped a flower into his belt. Knarwen thought it cute. Perhaps he had a local Selpheregi sweetheart.
After the initial exchange of formalities, he got straight into business, as she would expect
"The architects are asking too much of us," he said, "we cannot reforge some of the metals used in the construction of the great buildings of this city, and those we can are in short supply. Iron is too rare to bury in the structure of a building, and bronze does not have the strength they require."
"What would you ask of me?" Knarwen asked.
"I have heard the newcomers are clad in iron armour, so surely they have a plentiful supply," he said, "as you still hold veto on trade with them, if it would please you, could you negotiate a trade for their iron?"
A difficult question. Knarwen had heard countless similar petitions for the strange and plentiful foreign goods, and denied most of them. It was still too early to understand exactly what they were offering. Eordand was united, was self-sufficient, and the elvenoid arrivals no doubt sought to extract its secrets in lopsided deals. If given a foothold, their mere presence might disrupt the harmony her father and grandfather had fought for.
In the scheme of things, reconstruction was not the reason she would open free trade with them.
"I will speak to the architects," she said, "and ask them to rework their designs so that they need not so many rare resources for structural strength."
They would not like that, but some sacrifices had to be made. The secrets of the past were still long lost to them, so they could only make do with what they had.
"Thank you," the petitioner said, before backing out of the tent with his head bowed.
She sighed and pulled up the next book. This one had a sturdier cover made of something that was like wood, but shimmered in the light and was hard to the touch. If it had once been wood, the elements of centuries had not touched it since. Opening it, she was shocked to find the pages in much the same state, sealed in some sort of rigid stasis. The pages were filled with writing, but it was completely indecipherable, not even matching anything she had seen from ancient documents.
"I can help you with that," came a quiet, frazzling voice.
The sound of her guards drawing their blades was simultaneous with her startling, as she spun in her chair to face the wispy and cloaked form of an ancient Elf. After collecting herself, she held her hand up to the guards.
"Why are you up here?" she asked.
The Fey creature, a spirit of knowledge and history that walked the halls of the library she was camped atop, offered a smile like a parent seeing a child's first attempts at art.
"I sensed that you had seen a cipher yet unknown," it said, "we can translate it together, if you would tell me of your own life."
The ethereal Elf's ears flicked unnaturally, another giveaway that it wasn't merely the spirit of an ancient come to teach their descendants. It always asked for knowledge in exchange for its help deciphering the lost knowledge of this library, and the excavation team were under strict orders to not give it anything unless approved by the druids, for who knew what it might do if over-fed, or what it intended to do with what it learned.
"Return below, I will call upon you if I so wish it," Knarwen said.
The Old Man of the Archive bowed and descended into the floor.
After it had left, Knarwen sighed and closed the ciphered book in front of her. If she was going to be pestered by that thing, perhaps she ought to take a break first. She stood up, stretched her arms, and marched out of the tent with her guards following behind her.
The library was half-buried in the ground, as was so much of the city. During the Ruin the ground must have opened up, or been buried under collapsing hills, or any other number of reasons in the intense magical destruction. If she had been standing there two thousand years earlier, she would have been stood in the sky itself, the streets unimaginably far below. As it was, it was only few storeys drop to where the streets bustled with traffic.
From above, she could see the work that was going into the restoration. Unstable structures were being reinforced, or even rebuilt when the architects understood the construction. To do so without thought would leave Sakflor looking ramshackle, but she had ordered that everything be treated with proper consideration to aesthetic.
Support structures were made up intricately carved columns in the Precursor style, damaged frescos that could not be repaired were replaced with bronze moulds of the greater Fey lords, the halls of the restored buildings were filled with the greatest works of art from around Eordand. There stood great spires now, those buildings that had been rebuilt using some of the more mysterious tools dug out of Precursor relic sites around the nation, with dozens of mundane buildings built around them like copies in miniature, like little emblems that Eordand reached for the greatness that had come before, and might reach it once its people learned how to truly match such power.
And Knarwen was confident they would. With harmony blossoming across the nation and the Fey at their back, anything was possible for the future.
Excerpts of the writings of Knarwen I, from Annals of Oaths, a compilation of the writings of the Oathsworn, published in Isobeltir, 1828
It was a cool spring morning. I was atop the Gathgob Lighthouse ruins when I saw sails cresting the horizon to the south. They were strange vessels with square sails emblazoned with a symbol of the sun and, according to the Caamasi who went out to greet them, crewed by Elf-like people with brown skin and rounded ears. It was apparently a tense exchange, but eventually they sailed north without landing on our shores.
For too long we have been isolated from the world, thinking that we alone survived the Ruin. Now it is clear that is far from the case. I need to make myself ready for my ascension to the throne and what new challenges await us if these strangers return.
The fall of the Summer and Spring Courts has seen the embassy at home overflowing with newcomers. As my father cares far more for running the Rigak than entertaining our friends from the forest, it falls to me to see that they are comfortable. Organising a party with Nereids, Living Storm Elementals and a pit of Living Mud is no easy task, but it is fun to find out what they really enjoy.
Eliminating all nations of a particular court allows you to invite their influencers.
The stress of running things does seem to be getting to him. A few nights ago he awoke screaming loud enough that all of Pelodard could hear him. When the servants and I made it to his room, he claimed it was just a nightmare, but asked about Captain Ewandil. Oddly, we weren't able to find the Captain anywhere, and several of my friends in the embassy have been muttering about the Unseelie Court since then.
Though they are the leftover remnants of an empire that fell to Ruin, the relics that litter our lands are still worth studying if only so that we can avoid the same mistakes. Now that we are close to united, they aren't being hoarded any more. I've been working with Aunt Seronna on organising proper infrastructure in the Caamasi lands to have the discoveries there traded out across Eordand. I wonder if the strangers are here to seek out such secrets as well.
Those ambitious folk in Iadth have fallen upon themselves, perhaps as they now recognise my father's title as Champion of the Fey. Though we are not intervening directly, we are offering our blessing to any great Sonad who might arise and return Iadth to the fold.
Developing Gannag has been an entertaining exercise. The people of Sidpar, no matter whether Peitar or Caamasi, have all been of great help during my work in planning the growth of the city. The latest fashions from Pelodard and the depths of the Domandrod are being brought to life here, making one's connection to the Fey demonstrable through one's dress, and then traded out across Eordand.
It will not be long before Aunt Seronna is fully integrated into the Rigak's administration. It's something that's been a long time coming, as both my forebears have proven that our we have upheld our oaths and are the rightful rulers of all of Eordand. Her family have done their own duty as guardians of the Summer Ward, and ought to be rewarded for it.
Free and instant integration, due to having cores on all of their territory.
A ship docked in Sakflor earlier today, the strangers returned. I was lucky enough to arrive just as they had finished working out the translation magic, and greeted them as the Banoghar of Eordand, daughter of the Ard-Falt of the Ard-Rigak of Eordand. They were a strange mix of people, including Elves with pale skin, elvenoid people with round ears, apparently called Humans, and a handful of tiny folks called Halflings and Gnomes. Their captain invited me aboard, and I took a moment to marvel at the fascinating artwork he displayed in his cabin. He claimed to represent the Empire of Anbennar, the greatest nation in the world.
In return, I told him of Eordand, the greatest nation in all of the known world, forged from the unity of the seasons and the servants of the Fey. With my father's recent declaration of the formation of the Ard-Rigak of Eordand, we must surely be a match for any of the other survivors of the Ruin that dwell beyond the sea.
Though we cannot claim to hold all of Eordand proper at present, the misguided seasonalists have been pushed to the very fringes, and will surely come around in short order. A new age of golden harmony is upon us, one that all should be allowed to participate in.
I have been joining the meetings of the Ard-Falt, as my father is doing his best to teach me what I need to learn to rule. He is especially focused on the potential threats these newcomers, who call themselves Cannorians, represent. We must be ready to fight, he says, and we need to build an economy that can match the sorts of weapons and devices that they have displayed to us.
Eordand has three distinct groupings of missions. The first two rows relate to fighting specific nations (so depending on how said nations do, some might never be completed), and then after that is a short tree focusing on economic development.
In my opinion, we are entering a time of Spring. This should be a time of growth and renewal, not of preparation for war. We have endured the long Winter of separation from one another and the Fey, and the even longer separation from the rest of the world. Focusing our attention on the vibrant future is what we really need to be doing. Though he disagrees with me, he humours my interjections to the council. I might yet still win him over.
Below those is main mission tree, completing the consolidation of Eordand and expanding beyond it. The central column varies depending on your religion. Obviously, there is still even more beyond this. Eordand has a very long mission tree.
Despite the unification, we still dwell in Pelodard, though it little resembles the isolated woodland fortress that wooden carvings show us. The city has grown around the Fey embassy, and it is only natural that the Ard-Falt would choose to seat himself here to maintain the crucial connection to our Fey lords.
Pelodard actually has the worst bonus in my opinion, as yearly absolutism is useless right now and still not that important for late game. If it had been max absolutism, that would have been good. Since we were already in Pelodard, I just took the extra points. Play an Eordand game yourself to see the other options.
After all, it wouldn't do to keep the Uncrowned Queen waiting. She was the one who gave my father permission to name himself Ard-Falt and anointed his authority over Eordand as a whole. As we knelt before her, she asked me to approach, and so I did. Being in her presence was one of the most enchanting moments of my life, as I could not tear my own eyes from hers. I had no fear, even though since then I know she could have spirited me away as a gift from my father to the Fey, and gazed at her as she whispered her words to me. "Look beyond Schism's End"
With two objectives done, we get access to the strongest Fey influencers.
After such an encounter, the mundanities of ruling the nation are almost nothing. Securing the tolls of the Sarmadfar against the increasing number of Cannorian ships is dull but a necessity to keep them from profiting too much from our mutual lack of familiarity.
I have advised my father for years to see rapprochement with Iadth, and the end of their civil war and the rise of the Skyseeker lords finally gives us a chance to do so. Though they do not yet knell to the Oathsworn fully, the path to full integration into Eordand like Trimgarb is open to them.
The moment my father came to me, took off his crown of golden thorns, and presented it to me, I was stunned even if I knew that would come eventually. He said that the fact that Uncrowned Queen had called upon me was proof enough that I had the right to rule. He said that he was tired, exhausted by the effort of running the nation, and that one with the gift of youth and the energy of Spring was what Eordand truly needed at this moment. I could hardly turn him down, as every beat of my heart told me this what I needed to do.
I made my first appearance as Ard-Banrag to the great assembly of druids in the halls of Pelodard Palace. There were cries of shock and outrage that a woman might by the Champion of the Fey, but the loyalty of the Queen's Redcaps that followed me into the chamber proved that I had her favour. Representatives of all seasons were present when I renewed my own oaths to the Fey, and they too restated their own oaths of loyalty to my dynasty.
The great project of my reign, if I do nothing else, must be to see us beyond Schism's End, as the Uncrowned Queen requested that I do. There is no better place to begin than in Sakflor. The ancient city can only be maintained through the magical devices left from before the Ruin, but even they had begun to break down over centuries of mindless usage. Though we still cannot replicate such feats, we can bring in tools from the other Precursor sites across the lands.
Arakeprun/Sakflor province starts with a debuff, representing the fact that it is hard to maintain Precursor structures with only minimal understanding of their function.
We must come to a reckoning with our past. The Precursors, our own ancestors, brought about the Ruin and their own annihilation, and yet we still cling to the remnants of their magic. The Fey have taught us a better way, yet to completely discard the art and science of the past would be a waste. Though we must be careful studying it, we must be even more careful that these Cannorians, also eager to learn of the Precursors, do not take our own past away from us.
Now that era of peace has come, the cities are flourishing. No longer do they need to hide behind walls in fear of seasonalist raids, nor have their populations conscripted to battle. Pelodard is filling with farmers and other rural folk seeking audiences with the Fey for the benefit of their homes, often resulting in them staying and finding work, while Sakflor is blossoming with arts and architecture as the brightest minds in Eordand come to work on the reconstruction.
Conflict still lingers, sadly. The remaining isolated members of the Taigan Order, a most vicious assembly of druids still fighting in the name of the long-dead Immarel Winterswrath, are being tracked down and eliminated by the Redcaps. It is truly a shame that they cannot be reasoned with, but soon their embattled people will know the warm embrace of Summer.
I have settled into Sakflor, and it is here I have found the continuation of the Oathsworn. The Spellseers are a powerful family, and only getting stronger as investment pours into the city. Keeping them onside will serve well to prevent power from splitting between Sakflor and Pelodard. They might be Selpheregi, but they were among the first to convert when the city fell and have fully embraced the other seasons. Ibban himself is a decent Elf, able to match words with me in court as effectively as he matches blades in the practice yard. I trust that our child will be just as skilled as we are.
My greatest interest has always been the Gathgob Lighthouse. It is a marvel of architecture to have survived the Ruin, and unearthed texts and ancient stories saw that it once lit the way back to Eordand as it was visible even from the other side of the ocean. Restoring its power will make the golden light of Eordand shine across the world like a beacon of civilization.
While digging through the ruins of a library in Sakflor, its books sadly lost to decay, the explorers caught sight of an old Elf walking the corridors before disappearing through a wall. I was curious, and joined the search. While I feared he might be hard to find, the ethereal Elf was actually eager to talk. His words were hard to understand, speaking in a dialect that seemed several steps removed from our own, but it soon became clear he knew a great deal about the ancient past, and all he asked in return is knowledge about the present state of the world. Already, scholars have begin setting up the library to try and decipher his words and build a picture of what wonders he has seen.
The old man is an example of a powerful Influencer. He has some incredible bonuses, and this one in particular I feel might need a nerf. An easy route to 100 innovativeness right here, on top of some other buffs that are excellent so long as you time it right where your only power spending is tech/ideas.
The last remnants of Autumn offered their surrender recently. Their first offer was to give up their independence but retain some measure of autonomy for worshippers of Autumn. Though I was tempted, I am still firm to my oaths. Seasonalists are not be tolerated. They surrendered to conversion after a brief campaign, ending the last independent realm in Eordand.
I could have vassalized them, but why would we ever collaborate with the seasonalists?
Some Autumn worshippers still linger, with the druids of Iadth struggling to root them out of their corners. We have taken authority over the territory, in my name as the Ard-Banrag of Eordand, so that we can do their work for them. Each failure of theirs is more incentive for them to accept the new state of things and kneel to me.
Okay, I should have invaded as well them but I wanted to go for reconciliation for the Peitar. I'm trying to reduce their development to get them to accept vassalization.
Kneel like the Peitar of Strutmar, who have joined us in the greater harmony of Eordand now that Winter is no longer a threat. The Winter Ward is secured, and the Truearrows will forever be its guardians.
Both the the Hibernal Crusade and Schism's End will leave their scars on the lands of Winter for a long time, but the Snecboth are a hardy people. They will survive, and the lessons of Winter will combine with those of the other seasons to produce something greater than the whole. One day, we will have need of them once more, for Winter is an equal part of us all.
Trading is increasing in volume with the Cannorians, and they have recently offered a shipment of devices they call 'guns', which seem like miniature cannons. Their demonstrations have shown that bronze plate is no protection against their shots, and insisted that it is not magic nor a relic of Precursor power. I have already insisted on acquiring more of these, and given orders to train the military in both how to use such weapons and to find ways to survive when faced with them. We no longer have a need to fight each other, so we must look to our future foes.
For a political marriage of convenience, Ibban and his family have been very convenient and accommodating. Their investments have spread beyond Sakflor and across Eordand, making the Spellseers one of the more prominent of the noble families. I am no fool, and I know that their debt will come calling for me sooner or later, but if they dare ask too much then they will have to face the Uncrowned Queen and justify themselves to her.
I must take great care, as for all the blooming that we have enjoyed the nation still stands on a precipice. If I overindulge the Cannorians, they may start seeing us as fools to part with our treasures. If I listen to the more extreme voices in the clergy calling for the end of physical seasonality it could lead to another schism. If I do nothing, we lose this opportunity to get ahead in a changing world. I need to take everything into consideration.
Unearthing the past and learning from the mysterious Fey of the library has seen a surge in young mages eager to follow the teachings of the old empire. This is another place where I must be careful, lest they call upon the same magic that brought the Ruin, so I have tasked the druids with watching over them and making sure their studies align with the Fey's commands for harmony. One such bright magelight was skilled enough in conjuration that I commissioned them to summon up a great feast of dishes from all corners of Eordand, enough to finally convince the Skyseekers that they are best served under the Oathsworn's authority.
With all Peitar united, it is time to lay out the future. Each of the tribes, now noble houses under the Ard-Rigak, must keep to their oaths and ensure that there is no temptation for the Snecboth, Tuathak, Caamasi or Selpheregi to turn away from harmony. The Truearrows will guard Winter, the Skyseekers Autumn, the Swiftswords Summer, and we Oathsworn will watch over Spring and ensure that this present era of growth does not lead to resurgence of Spring heresy.
Some continue to insist that we do something about the physical state of our brothers and sisters. They say that their nature as mutants warped by Seasonalism means that if allowed freedom they will eventually stray back into heresy. I renounce these ideas, for harmony in my eyes does not mean forcing all to become alike. What means might we even take to transform them, or are my loyal clergy suggesting they be erased entirely? This will not happen as I live.
As we have all Eordan cultures as accepted this doesn't have mechanical impact, but it sure is thematic. I'm not taking it just yet, though.
If not for the work of the Selpheregi, would Sakflor now be a flourishing beacon of architecture and beauty unseen in centuries? If not for the Caamasi trading with our new distant contacts for their strange and exotic goods would Elchos have become the great hub of trade that it now has? The Tuathak and Snecboth, their rivalry now discarded, fill our ranks with hardy and disciplined warriors ready to march into the unknown. We cannot lose this harmony in diversity we have achieved.
It is through such cooperation that the experimental corps came about. Equipping and training our Autumnal warriors with guns purchased by Summer merchants and tinkered with by Spring scientists, while also experimenting with irregular warfare among our dispersed Winter population proves that all the seasons are needed to truly embrace the wider world.
We cannot allow ourselves to languish in isolation. The Cannorians tell tales of Aelantir being empty and ripe for their plunder. The Fey would not let us sit idly by as our fellow survivors fall to foreign settlement, so we must reach out first and claim these resources for the defence of Eordand, the Fey, and wider Elvenkind.
The expense is great, between the wealth funnelled into the newly blooming cities and the cost of restoring ancient Precursor structures like the Gathgob Lighthouse, but it is something I am willing to turn every mind and body in Eordand towards.
In hindsight I should have saved as many annexations as possible until I had embraced the two institutions. The debt isn't unmanageable, but it is getting worrying.
We are building something new. The Empire was powerful, for sure, but it was unbalanced. It is only thourgh the teachings of the Fey that we have found the harmony we need to wield such power safely. Each step towards reclaiming the past must be seen through the lens of all four seasons, but once we are done, we will be even mightier than them.
I'm not sure if this in the Steam version or just Bitbucket, but Ruinborn get their own unique army reforms now, based on which culture group they are. Our other option is a naval one, shared with the Kheionai, but that doesn't really suit us. This one doesn't help us that much either, at least until we unlock artificery.
We invited a few groups of Cannorians to a great celebration of the Fey in Elchos, and they seemed shocked when the Kraken first arose around their boats, an enormous Fey beast that was twice the size of their largest vessel. I had called upon it to demonstrate the strength of the Fey to our guests, and it seemed to do its task of reminding them that we are no mere tribe of blind worshippers, but true servants of a higher power.
The Kraken is a powerful Summer influencer that gives you a free flagship specced for combat, with the downside of it being slow (though not as bad as it looks, if I understand the modifier correctly. Early Carracks have a base speed of 6 so this is only a ~16% reduction). Sadly you can't repeat it to get a fleet of Krakens.
I stand atop the Gathgob Lighthouse, the horizon flickering with light as each sweep of the great magelight passes across it. If I peer, I imagine I can see distant shores. An endless desert filled with worms, a hungry jungle, an eternal storm, cities with towering temples, mountains that scrape the skies. Was this what the Precursors saw when they stood at the peak of their power?
Such power is ours, and yet jealous Cannorians already seek to take it for themselves. Gnomish explorers have petitioned for access to the Lighthouse, having been drawn to it like moths to a flame. These secrets are not for them, not yet. We do not understand ourselves how the Lighthouse works, as all our effort so far has been merely rebuilding what was already here. Maybe we can call upon the Fey to answer such questions, but they will exact their own price. Either way, through the toil of research or the price of a question, we will one day reach these heights.
With the Lighthouse as their guide, our own brave Elves take to the seas to find out what truly lies out there. The Kraken will lead the way, ensuring that no explorer from distant lands thinks us weak. The Spring of Harmony's Rebirth is over, and now we enter the Summer of Exploration.
To be continued…
Vote
The Spring of Eordand has come, birthed from the Winter of the Schism's End. Now is the perfect time to look to the future, to decide how Eordand will grow as the new arrivals begin to make their mark on Aelantir. Will the focus be inwards, on ensuring the nation keeps in good health and stability, or will it be outwards, investigating the new ideas and opportunities the Cannorians represent?
Administrative – Ruling Eordand drove Pelodan XI to exhaustion. It is far too much for any one monarch to control by themselves, so we must forge a new administration for our new nation.
Innovative – A whole new world has opened up to us, with much to learn and much to discover. We must be ready to adapt and reforge Eordand so that it might survive this change.
Diplomatic – These Cannorians may be friends, or they may be foes. Either way, we must be ready to deal with them diplomatically and assert our place in a wider world than we ever imagined.
Court – Though the work of the Oathsworn has unified Eordand, there are still many factions in the royal court with their own agendas. Affirming their oaths to the nation and Fey will do much to keep our politics stable.
(Aristocratic is also a Spring idea group, but cannot be selected as we would have too many military ideas)
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