AstriaS

Content Warning: Emotional themes, Suicide A Journey’s End ♪♪♪ Rain fell around a small woman as she paced along the shore near the city of Yong Ping. The night was cool, but not uncomfortably so. She was thankful for that much, at least. As she walked, she stared up at the sky, counting the many stars above. “Tiny pinpoints, unfathomably far away,” she said to herself, “Or perhaps they are deceptively close, xi?” As she made this query, she looked to her side, as if expecting someone to be standing there. She was answered by empty air, and a gust of wind. With a sigh, she tucked her hands into her sleeves, and continued walking. She came to a stop again soon enough as the darkened clouds drifted aside to unveil the full moon above. Approaching the shore, she looked up at the moon in solemn silence. She reminisced for a moment, reflecting on her life. She thought of her accomplishments and her failures briefly, but her mind focused on that which she felt the most sharply- a devastating loss twenty-some odd years past. It was a memory she never could block from her mind, and she never was able to manage or rein in her grief. So often was her mind haunted by the shadow of that one death that she never spoke of it to anyone. In a fleeting thought, she wondered if perhaps she should have shared the story. Yet, this thought she blocked from progressing. It was too late now. The woman knelt in the sand and listened to the crashing of the waves before her. She took a deep breath and drew the dagger she had brought with her, staring at the silver reflection of the moon on the blade’s surface. With stinging tears in her eyes, she took a look back at the city at her back and watched the lantern light flicker in the windows for a few moments. Three seconds… Five? Perhaps fifteen? She wasn’t quite sure how long she stared. She spent a moment more thinking about her friends before finally pulling her gaze free of Yong Ping. Once more, she stared up at the moon above, removing the pins from her hair and letting her locks fall past her shoulders. “We will be together again soon, sister.” She spoke coldly, as she brought her dagger to her chest. But she hesitated. She cast one final glance at the city. “I’m sorry.” Tears streamed down her cheeks as she felt the steel pierce her breast, a cry of pain parting her lips before she slumped to the side in final silence. As dawn broke, the body of Xiong Mei would be found by a passing fisherman, her hands still clutching the dagger piercing her heart. Her hair no longer was tied in her usual, well-maintained bun, her makeup was smeared by rain and her tears, and her bright, pink hanfu was stained with her own blood. A woman known in life for her cheerful, sweet demeanor was now an image of sadness in death. A small, folded note was found crumpled in her hands. “To my friends, Farewell. I wish you happier days than my own. Xiong Mei” So ended the journey of Xiong Mei, a troubled, sweet woman, gone before the age of forty.

Three different women send nearly identical letters to the publisher of the Norlandic paper, informing them that their surname is spelled "Camian". Perhaps three letters was overkill, but unfortunately the Camians are a petty and particular family. Otherwise, they seem to have no complaints, however, and their letters offer only compliments.

Among the encamped warriors, one woman lingered near the outskirts of the gathering. In the wake of the tremors below, she turned her gaze up to the night sky above. "I don't know that a simple quake is a message from the Gods," She mumbled to herself. "But with our recent activities, it is sure to get the King's men and the tribals into a stir. We will see, I suppose, what the fates have in store."

Alisa Camian sighed quietly as she caught wind of the declaration. "Suppose it's that time again. Well, mark the calendars," She stated offhandedly to those around her at the time. "We can expect another of these in..." She trailed off a moment to count, and then concluded, "Fifty to seventy years. That's my prediction."

From a distant mountaintop, a solemn observer watched over both Elysium and the Norlandic capital. Holding a copy of the letter in one hand, the figure turned to her companions. "The men of these lands seek conflict," The woman told the scouts behind her, crumpling the letter in her hands. "It seems the villagefolk, like the tribal neighbors, wish for battle with the king's men." She explained, pointing with a gauntleted hand towards each township as she spoke of them. "This land is ripe for the harvest. The Lord will be most pleased." The warrior concluded as she turned to look once more over the lands of Norland, the large, pointed horns adorning her helmet casting a long shadow as the sun rose over the mountains' peaks.

Looming Shadows In the Frost ♪♪♪ In the far north of Almaris, snow and ice crack beneath the weight of heavy boots. Trudging southward from the frozen wastes, a party of three marched its way through the mists of the ice-covered mountains in search of civilization. And find it they did. Coming first upon the lands of the Fennic Remnants, the party made camp for a time, far from the settlement’s walls. From a distance, they observed the comings and goings of the frozen city, appearing as shadows on the mountain crests, imposed against the pale, clear blue of the northern sky. But, their interest in this place, they decided, was best saved for another time. The party’s leader next bade them to travel west. Again, they slogged across the continent’s frigid north, until this time they reached the lands of Man- the Kingdom of Norland. They passed the village of Elysium and skirted the shores of Lake Eada, past a village occupied by tribals and then, finally, reached the precipitous mountainside wall of the Norlandic capital. And while the party stared up at the oversized palace above, their ears caught a most familiar sound: the din of battle. In the area surrounding what appeared to be a lumber mill, they came upon an ongoing battle. The tribal Skanarri and the forces of Norland had locked blades, it seemed. The party leader, then, took point, and watched the battle unfold from the top of a nearby ridge. Backlit by the flaming beacons atop the walls of Varhelm, the imposing figure observed the battle in silence- a shadow amidst the white, fresh-fallen snow. As blood was spilled, bones brokens and limbs severed, the scouts did no more than this, in spite of their longing for battle. The time was not right. Not yet. As the tribals fled the battle and the Norlanders returned to their city in varying states of injury, the party leader huffed. A pyrrhic victory for the Kingdom. They watched as the Skanarri departed with the captive they had managed to obtain and then finally broke gaze from the carnage. The leader turned to address the other scouts, and a feminine voice pierced the frozen air. “These ones seem to fancy themselves warriors,” She observed in an icy tone. One of the companions was quick to respond, “Do you think our Lord will be pleased with this sport?” He queried, voice betraying a hint of concern. “They are weak. Even if the Lord does not enjoy whatever fight they put up, he will enjoy breaking them.” The woman stated resolutely, arms folded across her armored chest. “Allow the victors to tend to their wounds. We will follow the tribals. I intend to leave a message for them.”

AMENDMENT IV: Measures Against the Circumvention of Royal Law To ensure complete adherence to the laws of the Kingdom throughout all lands governed by the Norlandic Crown, the following statutes are hereby instituted, effective immediately upon the promulgation of this amendment. I. Only sworn soldiers of the Northguard shall have the authority to enforce the laws of the Kingdom. Those who attempt to circumvent this authority and conduct arrests or enact sentencing without such authority shall be charged a fine of 100 Mina. The sole exception to this is the Order of the Purifiers, who shall have the authority to exact punishments for violations of the Red Law. Repeated offenses will result in escalated consequences. II. Those landed men who are found to have intentionally obstructed the exaction of justice, either by knowingly aiding or abetting fugitives or by preventing arrests conducted by the Northguard, shall be charged a fine of 150 mina. Repeated offenses will result in escalated consequences.

Deratrys Volaren watched the messenger bird leave the Varhelm tavern, and then fly a whopping 20 feet to drop the letter in front of her where she stood in the the square. "Oh, a letter!" She said, stating the obvious before opening and reading her mail. "A family meeting? That's something to do, I guess."

The Norlandic Kingsmoot A Brief History Dated 3rd of the Deep Cold, Year 33 of the Second Age Contents: I. Preface II. The Kingsmoot III. King Eirik, the Great IV. King Donovan, the Bastion V. King Javier, the Undefeated PREFACE The tradition of Kingsmoot is one with a history dating back to Norland’s earliest Kings. It is a practice that has come and gone over the centuries, being both invoked and denounced many times over, depending on the political circumstance of the time. This text is not intended to make an argument for or against the tradition, but rather to give a brief history of the Norlandic Kingsmoot, as well as an overview of the three most notable Kings elected by moot. Additionally, though there is a degree of political tension- even to this day- regarding Kingsmoots of old, the author has endeavored to provide a purely neutral account of events. It should be noted, however, that due to a combination of historical revisionism, and inherent political biases of past historians, there are few sources that are entirely factual and unmarred by politics. Additionally, much of what is written herein has been abridged for the sake of brevity, and as such may lack a number of details. THE KINGSMOOT Throughout its storied history, the Kingsmoot has taken many forms, but always with the same goal: the election of a new King to the Norlandic Throne. Some Kingsmoots of old saw votes cast by the citizenry, others by Chieftains of the Norlandic Clans, and others still solely by the Ruric Chieftains. In most cases, however, the Kingsmoot has taken the form of what is commonly called the Rurics’ Moot. In this style of moot, the votes are cast by the members of the three Ruric Clans, Eiriksson, Edvardsson and Freysson, and nobody else. Regardless of who cast votes, however, the traditional proceedings are the same: those who intend to cast a vote gather in the great hall or other suitable venue, those who wish to nominate themselves do so, and finally, a verbal vote is conducted. Tradition states that the man who wins this vote is then declared to be King. However, this has not always been a stable transition, and has been known in the past to even erupt into violence. Whether due to ideologies, rivalries, or other external factors, there have been many Kingsmoots remembered for the political tension they created. Perhaps the most notable of these controversial elections was the Moot of King Eirik in 1539 FA, the results of which fomented the troubles that sparked Beowulf’s Rebellion a number of years later. Often, it is this potential for chaos that has led some Kings to forego the process of the moot, in favor of passing their titles directly to an inheritor, as has been the practice since King Caedric’s Reformation in 1764 FA. However, it is worth remembering that, despite the potential for discord, the Kingsmoot has also elected some of the most successful and storied Kings in Norlandic history. KING EIRIK, THE GREAT Eirik, the second son of the Herald, took the throne in Seahelm following the death of his elder brother, King Edvard I. The first King to be selected by moot, Eirik’s was a tale of both greatness and controversy. Most known, perhaps, is Eirik’s surrender to the Empire of the time. Stuck in an unwinnable war of his predecessor’s making, Eirik was left without alternatives, and made the decisions necessary to ensure the continued prosperity of his people. Among Eirik’s achievements as King, none are remembered nearly as well as his talent for affairs of state. The skill with which he navigated the political landscape of his time has rightfully earned him a reputation as perhaps the best diplomat and statesman in the Kingdom’s history. It is for this reason that he became revered in the Red Faith as the Paragon of Governance and Diplomacy. Under his reign, the Norlandic people relocated to the city of Nyrhold, where they remained for the remainder of his rule. Though it is claimed by some that Eirik banned the practice of the Red Faith, there is no written evidence available at the time of this writing to substantiate this. The longest-lived King in the entirety of Norland’s history, Eirik passed away at the venerable age of 103. KING DONOVAN, THE BASTION Donovan is perhaps the most storied King in all of Norland’s history, renowned for leading the Kingdom to its greatest historical victories at the First and Second Siege of the Krag. With his predecessor, King Artyom Eiriksson, incapacitated by poor health, the moot that elected Donovan was held in most dire times. Between a leaderless administration and the ravages of an ongoing war with the Dwarves threatening to consume the Kingdom, Norland was left precariously at the precipice of ruin. But Donovan, undeterred, endeavored to collect what means he could to defend his city and his people. With what remained of the Kingdom’s depleted funds, Donovan hired mercenaries to supplement his forces and reinforced the Krag’s defenses in preparation for what would become his most legendary achievement. Through two sieges, heavily outnumbered, King Donovan and his soldiers stood strong and repelled the invading Dwarves. Despite incredible odds, Norland and the Krag stood unbroken. For his exploits, Donovan has been honored in the Red Faith as The Bastion, the Paragon of Defense and Valor. KING JAVIER, THE UNDEFEATED Successor to Artyom Eiriksson, King Javier is remembered most prominently for his military exploits and skill as a commander of men. Already renowned among the Norlandic people for his deeds in the War of the Grudges, Javier was elected nearly unanimously by the Kingsmoot. Throughout his reign, he became known for his many victories in a great series of bloody wars and rebellions. By the time of his abdication in 1638 FA, Javier had remained unbeaten through every conflict he had seen, and thus earned the title by which he is most commonly known; Javier the Undefeated. During his time as Norland’s King, many regarded him as the finest King that had ever ruled, while others viewed him with bitterness and distaste. Most prominent among his detractors were Clan Edvardsson, whom the Eiriksson King had personally slighted many times throughout his reign in his attempts to keep them away from the Norlandic Throne. Though his legacy remains controversial among certain groups even in the modern day, Javier Eiriksson is still considered among the most successful Kings to ever rule the Norlandic people, and rightfully so. Authored by, Mera Camian, 33 SA

Sylvia Camian prepares a special batch of Camian mead for the eventual celebration of a new King. As well as various sorts of unpleasant exploding or otherwise deadly things, just in case the need arises for violent protest.

Also commenting from the hermit hut, the elderly Alisa Camian read over her own copy of the declaration. "So we're doing Orcs and Dwarves again... Didn't we just have one of those wars?" She wondered aloud, taking a moment to try and recall. "Mm, I suppose that was sixty-some odd years ago, wasn't it. Nevermind I guess; This seems about on time. Still, what a hassle."

Sylvia Camian, Norlandic death-trap specialist, spent her day designing an extra large mouse trap, making sure to add big spikes to her sketches for the sake of making it look deceptively more dangerous.

Mera Camian made a point of studying the moves to the Ferryman Slide in her free time, in preparation for future victories.

Sylvia Camian nodded in a approval. "It's good to continue our friendship with them. They are a wise people, and good scholars." Xiong Mei wondered if this meant she was now qualified to practice law in Norland as well. As such, she made a point of making a quick note in her notebook to inquire about the subject with someone.

AMENDMENT III: Dishonorable War Conduct In light of atrocities of war committed in the Duchy of Elysium, and in respect to the slain noncombatants, the following decree outlines those acts which, when committed by any soldier whether he be Norlandic or foreign, must be punished in accordance with the standards of morality and the Father’s Tenets. I. The Targeting of Noncombatants: Those who are found to have assaulted or coerced with force unarmed or surrendering noncombatants will be sentenced to a branding and One Elven Day’s worth of indentured servitude to the Crown. II. The Slaying of Noncombatants: Those who are found to have slain, for any reason other than self-defense, unarmed or surrendering noncombatants will be sentenced to death by public beheading. III. The Targeting or Slaying of Religious Figures: Those who are found to have assaulted or coerced with force clerics of any Faith, outside of self-defense, will be sentenced to a branding and One Elven Day’s worth of indentured servitude to the Crown, unless an extradition of the accused is granted. Those who are found to have slain such an individual will be sentenced to death by public beheading, again unless an extradition is granted. IV. The Targeting or Slaying of Children: Those who are found to have, for any reason other than imminent threat of death, targeted, abducted, assaulted, coerced by force, or slain a child will be sentenced to death by way of public beheading.

The High Keeper scoffed in disgust. "There is only one fate befitting those who target noncombatants and, even worse, children," She hissed, immediately beginning to draft a document.

The High Keeper briefly considered making some remark about what she had just read, but upon opening her mouth to do so realized she was in an empty room. "Well, it was good reading at least," She said, writing down a couple good phrases from the document to steal for her own writing in the future.

The Bannermen of Clan Camian It is ever a grim event when sense and good faith fail to maintain peace between the nations of the world. Saddened though we may be, however, Clan Camian declares its full and wholehearted support for our Kingdom in this time of conflict. A slight has been dealt by the enemy’s hand, and so it must be redressed. We shall, as is tradition, raise a levy of bannermen to fight alongside the Northguard. May the Father’s Light guide their path, and may Bjorn guide their blades. TO PROSPECTIVE BANNERMEN The Armor of Clan Camian The Bannermen of Clan Camian are expected to be men and women of piety, honor and loyalty. We will not accept bannermen who are not of the Father’s Faith, and we will not accept the dishonorable. Those who wish to serve under the banner of Clan Camian are to report to High Keeper Alisa Camian, or her granddaughter, Mera Camian. Signed, High Keeper Alisa Camian, Chieftain of Clan Camian OOC: To join Clan Camian’s bannermen, contact me on discord (AstriaS#4670) or irp.

Mera Camian thrust her fist into the air. "Finally! I thought ve vere never going through vith it. Iron from Ice!"

Mera Camian began riling up the populace with a degree of jingoistic pride unseen in Norland in nearly half a century.