✵ GENESIS ✵
In The Beginning...
There is much talk of how things began, a bang, a flower, a single tear. Those who walk the earth, and even those who flirt along the planes great beings tread, all know that in this world, there are but 12 powerful beings. The Twelve have created everything from whims and feelings, creatures from the mighty to the small.... The walkers of the world had come to know these beings, these gods by name or by the very thing they lord over:
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Rebirth
Love
Wisdom
Compassion
Fertility
Sun
Chaos
Hunt
Harvest
Death
Passion
Moon
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These were laborious gods. Some electing for calm observation and assisting those whispering a prayer to them, while others were booming, boisterous and destructive. As their creation ran amok dealing with the precarious balance between predestination and free will, the gods observed, developing their own sophisticated relationships.
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✵ The Foundation of Lu’Mina ✵
In the early days...
When those brave souls first came by wing and by sea, when the gods made the world new, the prominence that overlooked the sea was soon scaled and tamed by all sorts of creatures. The dwarves that dug the mines to find the ores to make the tools, the humans that brought grit and sweat to build the city, the elves that brought refinery, knowledge.
For a time, these folk remained divided in tribal kingship or chiefdoms, until the regional duchies became unified under one Kingdom. The monarchy set their seat and capital in the mountainous city that scraped the heavens, and they strove to build the city further. For a while, the city depended on hunters and tradesmen who brought food and wares by the sea, but with the growing population, soon this became unsustainable.
The spirits of the untamed wilds of the Primoria Tangle agreed to cut back, so the habitants could turn it into the lands for farming, also known as The Calm Lands. This effort was essential for the survival of the people, garnering the help of friendly neighbors. With the aid sent by the Empress of Hoshukyo, the remaining low swamp land turned into rice paddies, which she then left in the care of Lu’Mina.
After this, The King of the Fae himself stomped down the boundary, leaving deep hoof prints for the city and the farm to grow no further into the forest, setting Lu’Mina’s official borders.
✵ The Dark Age ✵
Deep below the mountain, a house of Drow had also made their home, and with the Kingdom of Lu’Mina long established, the conflicts kept arising. Wars were waged, treaties made and broken, and debates over who laid claim to what added to the unrest caused by other chaos though the realms. While Lu’Mina dealt with its own war, the neighboring kingdoms and factions were also warring with each other, or dealing with civil wars. These trying times led to a dark age, characterized by forces from the abyss marching on the city constantly, while the capital pushed and maintained, burning brightly the firebird of their banner, to eventually rise from the ashes.
✵ The Moon Renaissance ✵
With these Dark Ages raging upon the land, the gods grew unhappy with their creation and with each other. Weary of the general conflict, Oberon the Moon god, plucked a monolith from the heavens and hang it over the lands, and in the days leading to his zenith month he issued a daunting warning: He’d wipe clean the Slate, and the only land that would remain untouched would be the Titan's Waste to the south. He had the mercy to let those who were faithful to escape and be spared. Lu’Mina, a society which always looked to Oberon for balance and judgment, fled to the south, evacuating to the safety of the sands, while the Moon pursued his quest to right the wrongs of mortals and gods.
The watchful god was patient, until the time came to begin his purging. With great celestial power, he sent the monolith into the city crumbling what was once a tall and proud mountain. By a matter of fate, Oberon’s heavenly mission would be halted, and legend has it, he buried his godly tool in the belly of the flattened mountain to contain the spread of destruction, vanishing in an instance of second thoughts for terrible actions wrought.
With this cataclysm avoided by means kept veiled, the people started to migrate back home, rebuilding on the mound that was once home and soon making it home again. Through the winter months they pushed again, and soon their city stood proud once more, shorter but not defeated. Despite the cold and the snow, the city soon bloomed with green and life, rising once again from the ashes.
After the longest darkest winter, it was announced through the lands that Lu’Mina and the Quae’Mira, long time allies, would unify as one faction consisting of Fae and Merfolk alike, all under one flag. Ruled by The King of the Fae, now King to the city and his ever watching mother, Queen Ketsui.
Long live King Fintan Ogma the First.
Long live Queen Mother Ketsui.
​✵ The Mists Exodus ✵
Lu’Mina finally lived in times of prosperity, but it was just a matter of time until the fortune wheel gave a spin. On a frightful night, a mysterious fog extended over the land, without a message or a warning. What at first seemed like a normal occurrence on a cold early morning, turned out to be a gruesome herald of despair. Horrible sounds of death came from the mists, and those who couldn’t leave the fog didn’t return.
In desperation, Lu’Mina citizens once again fled the city, but this time they had to leave a lot behind. The human city of Glenarm took in the refugees escaping the deadly mists, beginning a new era of strife and complications.
Glenarm’s ban on magic, and the reluctance of the human population to accept the myriad of races coming into the city, turned the integration of Lu’Minans impossible, forcing them to change their magical ways, and conceal their true appearance in order to survive.
The people of Lu’Mina had no other choice but to deal with the repression, for they had nowhere else to go. But Glenarm had its own demons dragging, and one fateful day, a lich came, pushing everyone, Humans, Fae, Merfolk alike towards Galena, the elven city, while the Lich leveled the coastal city of Glenarm.
​✵ The Galena Period ✵
Back in the days when the elven king was simply known as King Eren, Galena welcomed the exiled royal family of Lu’Mina into his city, strengthening their alliance, and giving Fintan Ogma the chance to re-group his army, and Ketsui to re-organize their citizens.
Both parties knew this was a temporary measure, but it was still unclear where Lu’Minans would relocate. After a while, rumors reached the port of Almdalir, and eventually Galena. The terrible mists were receding, giving Fintan and Ketsui an opportunity to go back, but there was a problem, the land was ridden with strange Blood Beasts.
With Eren’s sanity decaying, making diplomacy difficult, the royal family of Lu’Mina had to be decisive. Without enough ships to transport his army back to Novus, Fintan seeked the aid of the mage’s guild in order to open a portal, who would take them all back to Port Valcos. After days of arcane struggle, the army of Lu’Mina and their allies reached the port and slowly marched towards the Capital.
The alliance between the rulers or Lu’Mina and Eren the Mad King of Galena still stands today.
​✵ Reclaiming of Novus ✵
Upon returning, old residents found the realm overrun with red creatures called Blood Beasts. Monstrous creatures that only crave destruction, hard to look at, and harder to dispose of. But, the returning citizens were determined, and wave after wave, pushed back the beasts, culling them to return things to a safer status.
Once the capital city of Lu'mina was reclaimed, people bore witness to decades of overgrowth despite being away for just a short time... Trees flooded the streets, vines consumed the buildings and all together the old city looked like a glorified city.
When Fintan’s army finally got to the Royal palace, they found hiding in the belly of the castle, what was once recognized as Passion, the beloved goddess of the fae, in a decrepit and corrupted state. The only clear recourse to those brave enough to face her was to destroy her. The Fae King himself, her own champion, was who struck the killing blow but to the detriment of those with him. From all the fallen during that battle, a soldier rose from the dead, carrying sordid whispers of the true essence of the Blood Beasts, and speculations about the now fallen goddess. A lot of questions were left unanswered… if the Goddess of Fae was dead… What did that mean for her beloved creatures and their immortality?
​✵ The Grand Chaos Tournament ✵
Some Gods have paid visits while others have been silent to prayers and woes. Sylan and all her chaotic nonsense, imposed a trial on the world at large.
"Send your bravest and finest! They will fight in a Grand Tournament to prove who is fittest and who is most deserving of mercy" The options were: Win or your land will befall to a blight, gift of a new face among the pantheon... an unnamed spreader of pestilence.
For a month warriors from all around, Titan's Waste, Hoshikyo, the northern mountains, and reaches beyond the known map, all came, answering the call, gathering on the shores of Valcos.
The roster dwindled fight after fight, until the remaining few contended against each other, in a grand display hosted by Sylan herself.
All watching, waiting with bated breath to see who would be the lucky nation to win salvation and dodge starvation. Through a very close match, that honor was bestowed on Novus, while the winner was taken to parts unknown with the goddess.
Other lands were sent home with their fallen, with a blight waiting for them. Lu’Mina, Valcos, and the Primoria Tangle were spared, and although the residents returned to mend their overgrown world, Sylan’s favor damaged the relations of Novus with neighboring, more unlucky lands.
​✵ The Mysteries of the Twelve ✵
As if overnight, in a fury of building and the crazed speakings of a trusted man of construction, the new temple was carved out into the mountainside of the port. This man spoke of exact plans, delivered from the gods themselves: gone was the temple of equal standing, their new temple was to have three wings, one of a trifecta of division. Upon its completion, three statues emerged at the forefront of their wings.
It was soon a bit more clear to whom and in what way the wings belonged to: A wing for Helios the sun god, a wing for Oberon, the moon god, and one for Sylan, the chaos god.
Devouts to the twelve, curious to these developments, tended to the space, until a spring festival, all collected to pay homage to the goddess of fertility, Amaranth.
Amaranth, who had been one to whisper her graces upon prayers and assure her presence in these times, ignited such faith in people, another statue appeared in the temple overnight. As people laid offerings and their hopes for the warming season, Amaranth promised it was now her who kept watch over the Fae folk. Amaranth spoke of her sister Passion, as leaving her in the state she was found was a mercy... A cryptic hint to darker times among the gods... With one baneful glare across the temple to her dark sister's idle, she receded back into her own, leaving a bouquet of hibiscus and lilies to adorn her pedestal.
The gods would not answer the faintest of pleading or the most thunderous of ritual! The Twelve do not so willingly oblige the prayers of the world... What has happened to those who keep watch over the various creatures and functions of the realm?
​✵ The Curator Wars ✵
In the midst of the warm days of summer, a terrible incident marked the beginning of Novus’ last ruthless war. The explosion on the local market not only caused material loss, but a tremendous life loss that still haunts it’s habitants nowadays. With unclear petitions, the group later known as the Curators launched a relentless attack against Novus. No city was forgiven.
Bringing a cryptic magic unknown to the mage guild, and technologies unregistered in the commerce guild, the Curators had the upper hand. With superior weaponry and metallic contraptions, the Curators made sure to keep Novus in constant state of terror.
As alliances between sworn enemies were forged to fight the foreign menace, the Curators implemented spies in the most conspicuous places, always staying a step ahead. The leaders of the strongest opposition groups were targeted and neutralized one by one, making sure no real resistance could be organized.
With an almighty blast of the warhorn, The Curators left their desert camp and headed towards The Tangle. The rumors spread far and wide, and they headed for the Tangle Camp, to raze it first. With battering rams, drones and ... something so large the common folk couldn't manage to stutter it from their mouths before they ran off to cower.
But after so many failures, and many lives lost, the resistance of Novus grew wiser, and planned an ambush which would put an end to the invasors’ threat. Although the local army won the war, the Curators weren’t going to fall without a big boom. Over the years that the war lasted, they infiltrated little by little explosive charges all around Valcos and Lu’Mina, a blast that was triggered the moment their largest contraption was decommissioned.
The people won the war, but it didn’t feel like a victory, especially as the whispers of one of the Curators getting away trickled through the gossip channels.
​✵ Today ✵
Lu’Mina and Valcos were heavily damaged during the war, camps and squats sprouted around the main cities as the population struggled to survive with the limited resources available in the post war.
The resentment left behind by the results of the Grand Chaos Tournament, made it difficult to receive help from the neighboring nations, forcing King Fintan into a diplomatic tour to build back the bridges Sylan burned, and boost trade, while Queen Ketsui rules in his place.
In the Tangle Camp once razed by the Curators, another settlement has brought life again to that side of the forest, called Uniade Caid.
Despite the reconstruction going painfully slow, the economy is taking off again. People feel safe in the streets, and other than the sporadic conflict, peace reigns in the lands.
But for how long?