The Story So Far...

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Kilaana
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The Story So Far...

Postby Kilaana » Fri Jan 01, 2016 12:22 am

Foreword:
Some of the events outlined below will occur during the course of the server's history. Please treat this knowledge as OOC (Out Of Character) as far as possible when you are reading this post. If you choose to play an Impilturan local, you are highly encouraged to spend some time getting to know our setting well enough before undertaking such a role.

You are welcome to make use of the below information to decide what kind of character you wish to play, and his or her goals during their time in Impiltur.


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The Story So Far....

1361 DR - Eleint

Impiltur has barely managed to recover from a hard winter, the first of many since a decade ago. But while the chill winds still blow, the people of Impiltur are a resilient lot, living this far north. They prepare themselves for Highharvestide, but the year's diligent sowing would give way to a less than mediocre harvest. To compensate, food has been imported from Telflamm and Sembia, and with it, travellers of all occupations and intent have also arrived. Drawing stares and mumbled greetings, foreigners to this insular nation should quickly learn that while the locals are reserved and sometimes brusque in their ways for good reasons, their love of national folktales is only surpassed by their long and jagged history. Whilst the seeds of unrest have already been planted years ago by several royal deaths, some none too accidental, tensions between royalists and republicans are inevitably coming to a head.

The infant King Imbrar II lies sick in his cot from a lung infection that never seems to go away. Prematured at birth, it was a blessing that the child survived when even his older brother, Imphras V, is plagued by a wasting disease with ever-slimming signs of recovery. It seems as though the royal line would be cursed with a weak constitution, but who can tell? Queen-Regent Sambryl wields the scepter in his stead, though much of the day-to-day administration is left to her Lords of Council and their Heralds. A scholar and patron of the fine arts; the Queen, while being no great beauty, is admired by her people for her wisdom and foresight. More is the pity that she prefers to rule away from the public eye, but many attribute this to her old age.

It is said that the unenviable task of finding a cure for Imbrar II's sickness has fallen to the hands of Council Lord Idriane, a female paladin of Ilmater, a most gentle and soft-spoken of Triadic Knights. The search is still in its early stages, with a few select wizards pulled in on an advisory counsel. One of them has suggested that a cure component could be found in the ruins of the Citadel of Conjurers - an anti-toxin that could be gleaned from the corrupted wastes. Still others claim that the same component could be gathered from the higher reaches of the Earthspurs, where flora and fauna have adapted to the icy cold.

Impiltur's crowning jewel, the historic city of Sarshel - once built on the prosperity of Damaran bloodstone trade, is now a shade of its former glory. But while enthusiasts of the city's rich history and architecture proclaim its eternal beauty, shops and homes with their facades barred and locked have been appearing more frequently. Those who leave, make their way south for the newer, larger city of Dilpur or neighbouring Hlammach, touted the nation's financial capital - where the waters bring in warmer winds, food from the sea and a greater chance to mingle with society at large. Others prefer to remain, these would be the families who can claim ancestries going all the way back to the royal line. Eager to fill in the gaps are the new wealth - merchants, scholars and every sort for whom money can afford them a place in Impilturan society.

The dwarven trade wagons have always been a welcome, if an occasional sight, to Impiltur. The ones who descend from the mountains make it a habit to do so during peak trading seasons, carrying with them precious ores and minerals that would bring in profits to warrant the arduous journeys. These clans are different from those of Torg mac Cei's, whose reputation for cruelty and a narrow-minded, distrustful view of non-dwarven peoples have been the reason for his clan's increasing isolated rule in the Earthfast Mountains. A rumour runs rife among the dwarves that a new tunnel in the Earthspurs has recently collapsed, revealing the telltale greenish veins of raw bloodstone. Whoever gets their hands on these would see the kind of fortune that once built half of the human northern empire, and bring fame and fortune to that lucky dwarven clan. Whether or not this is true - for the two dwarven scouts that returned were somewhat delirious with their find, raving unintelligibly - remains to be seen, and what would happen if this word reaches human ears?
“How long is forever, Rabbit? ...Why, Alice, sometimes just one second.” ― Lewis Carroll, Alice in Wonderland

Kallian | Delorwyn Lle'quellas | Wilhemina Alencar | Zalika Maszim Zartusht

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Kilaana
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Posts: 698
Joined: Mon Sep 14, 2015 8:26 am
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Re: The Story So Far...

Postby Kilaana » Fri Jan 01, 2016 2:06 am

1362 DR - Year of the Helm

News has fallen over the court that Imphras V of the Heltharn Dynasty has finally given his last breath. Poor wretched man, some say, for such is the disease which wracked the former King that left him bedridden and a great liability to any visitor to his chambers. Much must be said for the man himself that even his footmen would flout orders to bring him his nourishments in hopes that it would make a difference. But it is a dreary and rain-filled morning on the 21st of Eleasias that a procession set out on its journey to the Hill of Tombs located in the rocky slopes north of Hlammach. A few scholars have noted this unusual request laid out by the King before the weakening began; known as Thatchskull by the local farmers, the site marks the burial grounds of some of Impiltur's earliest kings. Beginning with the death of King Tharaun I in the Year of the Wild Roses (269 DR), the southern side of this peak saw the construction of the first of a dozen hidden tombs that over the following two-and-a-half centuries would house the remains of the last monarchs of the ruling Mirandor Dynasty, Impiltur's first. The subject of many a tale and superstition, the name Thatchskull is enough to deter many a treasure-seeker who refuse to parlay with the vicious and malevolent hauntings that have kept the Hill of Tombs intact of its riches.

The Merchant's Council in the city of Phsant in nearby Thesk sends 100 orc-kin warriors to meet the Tuigan horde led by the barbarian Yamun Khahan. Remnants of an army left by the Zhentarim, some question King Azoun of Cormyr's decision to initiate allied forces which include the dwarves of the Earthfasts, known for their secrecy and isolation, the Dalesfolk, the Sembians, and the Centaurs of forest Léthyr convinced by Princess Alusair. The war effort is a success, in which the orc-kin emerge as heroes for their savagery against the Tuigan.

In Sarshel, the year seems to welcome even more new wealth despite the withdrawal of a prominent Thayan magnate, judging by the opening of several establishments in town in a space of no more than a year - a master locksmith's shop run by a courteous halfling named Perry Quietfoot together with his business partner dubbed the 'Master of Illusions', Noal Dagar; the Sailor's Star, run by a young prince-of-the-sea whose roguish looks have set tongues wagging of who the next fair maiden shall be to win his heart (and some say, his riches); Raledem's Antiques, whose owner is as eccentric as the location in which the shop resides in. By the end of Uktar, the Heltharn Theater has seen a sudden revival of interest by the recent arrival of a new producer from the Vast, who has already secured a lucrative opportunity with Averyn Thainn of Midrikaul along with the Pale Bard - a moon-elf named Dhovainithil - and a young Chessentan harpist Marcellus Heldeion.

But not all is fortuituous, as hill scouts from Songhall have reported summer stirrings of a hobgoblin menace that has gathered over a valley deep in the mountains where the source of a great river known as the 'Dragon's Maw' can be found. Reports say that a mining expedition led by an aged Dwarf known only to some as Hroin was responsible for this disturbance. Not a twentyday later, a flight of white-throated needletail swallows were seen rising in haste from their cave-borne nests, flying high towards the east, heralding an upset of nature's balance in the very hills where the expedition took place.

A tale around the fire of a legendary shield created by the Felimar dwarves has scholars at Songhall and bards at every tavern scrambling to rewrite history - for word has come from that sacred place of learning that the Shield is no longer fiction but truth, unearthed by Jerek, a paladin of Sune, along with the Sharaan bard Nathaniel Askovar and the halfling locksmith Perry Quietfoot, under direction from notable scholar Orin Tyrson who has since then made waves in the Songhall community for this discovery. Significant indeed is this find, for if the Shield's ability to fend against the Weave then everything that is known thus far about the Felimar clan must be more than meets the eye.

In secret enclaves and hushed corners, the 'Year of the Sun', as some call it now draws to a close. Fortune-tellers are quick to array their gems in an effort to ward off what is foreseen for the new year... though some would welcome its fate with open arms. As surely as the sun rises to fill each day with warmth, so does it fall - to give way to the moon's ascent: only in darkness will the light of the moon be seen truly, where far below the starlit skies of Selune, Impiltur must prepare for the inevitable fading.
“How long is forever, Rabbit? ...Why, Alice, sometimes just one second.” ― Lewis Carroll, Alice in Wonderland

Kallian | Delorwyn Lle'quellas | Wilhemina Alencar | Zalika Maszim Zartusht


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