Kharne

The largest of Halrin's continents, Kharne (pron. KARN) is home to the planet's oldest and most developed nations. Scars of religious fervor, both old and fresh, cover the face of continent. The nations that have escaped such fervor find themselves shackled to new and evolving prisons, from the capitalists of Buerrenstadt to the miserotia of the Alafian Coast.

The Nations of Kharne

The Kingdom of Lourette (pron. loo-RET)

View Flag. The following is a transcript from a lecture at the Bardic College of State:

Course Title: NARRATIVES OF THE STATE: MYTH, MEMORY, AND MASS MOBILIZATION
Instructor: Professor Yun Jaehyeon, Senior Lecturer in State Mythography and Ideological Engineering
Institution: College of State, Inolae, Ancheom’s Cross
Class Level: Fourth-Year Specialization
Lecture Topic: Lourette: Holy Lies and the Tools of Heaven
Date: 1193 SA, Spring Semester, Week 5

[0:00]
Let’s go, let’s go, textbooks out. Lecture IV. I want spines straight and minds sharper than Gendarmerie sabers. Ginnie, tuck in your shirt or I’ll have your rhetoric grades folded like your hem. And Richard... what is that? Is that contraband fruit? Put it away. If you must chew, chew facts.

[0:22]
Now then. Today, we step into the rain. Specifically: the blue-lit canopy of Lourette. This case study will serve two purposes. First, to apply our triadic framework of Narrative Absolutism, and second, to examine how state myth can be used not just to unify, but to calcify.

[0:39]
The Kingdom of Lourette, nestled in the Erisian Horn, is one of the most sophisticated narrative states in Halrin. It is governed not simply by decree, but by authored divinity. That’s your first margin note: “Governance through authored divinity.” The Bras Géants forest sprawls across their land, its trees tall and tinted cerulean, supposedly whispering in the language of their ancestors. Do they? Irrelevant. The myth persists. And in Lourette, myth is law.

[1:08]
Their capital, La Loureaux, houses the Empyrée... title, not name. The current holder is irrelevant to this course. What matters is that the position is divine. Per the myth, the imperial bloodline can traced to three winged progenitors. “Angels,” they call them. These are not deities in the Syridic sense. They are ideological prototypes. Idealized pasts, retrofitted for present dominance. This is the First Principle of State Voice: Sanctify the Source. If your crown comes from heaven, your critics come from hell.

[1:45]
Let’s talk instruments. Lourette’s Maison De Marque functions as their Ministry of Message. It is not mere propaganda. It is myth architecture. And those who control it are your professional cousins. Many trained here. Some under me. One of them, I believe, plagiarized my lullaby unit and turned it into national law. They decide what phrases enter the lexicon. They dictate which folk stories are taught, which rebels are renamed demons, which nursery rhymes whistle soldiers into compliance. The Lourettian child is steeped in curated awe from the cradle. You’ll learn this next week under “Domestic Rhetoric and the Construction of Innocence.”

[2:28]
Now, let’s bring in the sacred geography. To the nation's east lies the Arbourus, a massive temperate forest said to be the womb of humanity. A territory contested by Buerren, Tarsia, and Lourette. Each claims divine inheritance. Lourette claims the angels blessed only them. Convenient, no? To the west is the city of Pergne, Lourette's domestic pressure point. Resistance there is young, quiet, and likely doomed. But even doomed embers can light a narrative fire. Remember our First Principle: Pergne isn’t just seditious. It’s framed as an affront to the angels.

[3:01]
Balise and Porte de Saint-Célestin are military cities. More importantly, they are what we call 'myth amplifiers.' Saint Célestin, namesake of the latter, is said to have sung a storm back into the sea. This myth? Scripted by College of State graduates and revised four times. War minstrelsy at its finest. Principle Two: Sing what you cannot enforce. If the sword fails, the chorus must not.

[3:34]
Mont d’Ailes. A mountain said to resemble wings, where the angels of old ascended. Some claim you can still hear feathers in the wind. That’s called acoustic nationalization. But the important thing to note here is the geography. The sense of height, of ascension. Final principle: Every state must offer elevation. If not in class, then in afterlife. If not in body, then in story. Lourette promises its people wings. That’s how they justify the chains.

[4:01]
Now. Assignment prompt, listen carefully: Draft a working mythos for a hypothetical breakaway state. Include a divine origin, a defiled sanctuary, and a hero figure with a documented flaw. Extra credit if you include a performative ritual that masks policy enforcement. 2000 words, minimum! Due next Arforda. I want to see tears in your drafts... yours or your readers’, I don’t care which. Oh, and Ginnie, your shirt's still untucked. Next time I’ll write your critique directly on the fabric. Moving on to last week's homework...

Lourette

The Republic of Buerren (pron. b-YOOR-en)

View Flag. The following is a brochure distributed by the Association of Classical Löweism, a fringe political organization operating out of Eisehafen:

THE FUTURE LÖWE NEVER WANTED

A Reclamation of the Buerrenstadt Papers from the Clutches of Neo-Löweism
Distributed by the Association of Classical Löweism
Copies protected under the Academic Freedom Provision

WHAT YOU'VE BEEN TOLD:

That the system works. That wealth is earned and never inherited. That the Oberhaus is a fair arena for lawmaking. That the Senheisen Conglomerate leads Buerren into a golden age. That Johann Emil Löwe would beam at the Republic today. These are fictions.

THE LÖWE OF HISTORY VS. THE LÖWE OF THE MARKET:

You know the name: Johann Emil Löwe. You were taught to revere it, to celebrate him as the father of our nation. And yet the Republic we walk through now bears little resemblance to the vision he left behind. When Löwe penned the Buerrenstadt Papers, he dreamed of a society where every citizen's station was earned, not inherited. Where royalty was a memory, and no office, no house, no company could exist without accountability to the people it governed or employed. But the Neo-Löweist machine has burned the distinction between royalty and the state to ash. In their retellings, anti-royalty becomes anti-regulation. Meritocracy becomes market worship. Governance becomes a sideshow to the main event: profit. This is not evolution. This is theft.

THE NEW MONARCHY:

In Löwe's time, the crown was worn openly. Today, it is stitched into designer suits and company seals. Senheisen alone commands more sway in the Oberhaus than ten farming provinces combined. The Feldelands, the heart of our agricultural identity, are ignored while the boardrooms of Lüdensee shape policy. Corporations pass leadership down by blood, not ballots. The free market was meant to liberate. Instead, it has recreated the monarchy, fractal and self-replicating. Every chairman a king. Every dividend another coin pressed from our collective backs. Buerren, in forgetting what the crown stood for, has traded one for many.

THE SEPARATION:

And what of opportunity? The great promise of a meritocratic Buerren? Ask the mill workers in Holzig, the timber haulers of Tannenheim, or the grain laborers of Inteilen if the road is as even as they say. They live with rot in their walls and rationed heat while watching the bourgeoisie of Buerrenstadt glide by in motorcars, a technology not even sold outside the richest districts. We have created a state where geography predicts fate and lineage predicts power.

DIRTIED HANDS:

Let us not forget: The Königsfälle Revolution was not a rebranding. It was a reckoning. The Von Silberne monarchy did not fall to better PR. It fell to fire and fury, to people who refused to die for another man’s leisure. The Revolution was not for comfort, but clarity. For a nation that sees power as something to be earned. What we have now is clarity’s counterfeit. What we have now is Neo-Löweism.

REMEMBER WHAT WAS PROMISED:

We were meant to build a Republic that elevated skill, valor, sacrifice. We were meant to empower every district, not just those nestled around Lüdensee. We were meant to hold leaders accountable, not immortalize them with dividends. And now? The largest companies bleed our forests dry. The war with Lourette and Tarsia is fueled not by civic duty but by timber shortages. The mighty Arbourus is seen not as sacred, but as inventory. Political ambition bends to corporate scarcity. Even Chancellor Carina Hanel, once beloved across the Feldelands, has turned her back on the southern plains. Her silence on Senheisen's influence in the Oberhaus has been deafening.

WHAT DO WE DO?:

We remember. Löwe's revolution was not against style. It was against substance. Against power held without merit.

We organize. Rebuild local councils. Form community forums. Reignite the civil liberties buried beneath bureaucracy.

We redefine merit. Not in capital, but in action.

We refuse to crown our kings in silence.

This is not the future Löwe died for.
But it can still be the one he dreamed of.

Buerren

The Orahni Semi-Autonomous Region (pron. oh-RAH-nee)

The following is an internal memo detailing the Republic of Buerren's proposed plan to occupy the region of Orahnos, which they would begin carrying out in 1040 SA. This copy of the memo has been annotated by a junior staffer:

MEMORANDUM

Confidential: Internal Use Only – Category 3 Civil-Military Integration
Buerrenan Office of Territorial Acquisition and Development
Date: 4th of Antonum, 1035 SA
Subject: Long-Term Strategic Integration of the Orahni Riverlands into the Buerrenan Sphere
Prepared By: Committee on Unincorporated Holdings, Chairman MP Anselm Kästner

I. OBJECTIVE

To develop and execute a long-term, minimally disruptive integration of the region known as Orahnos—hereafter referred to as the Orahni Semi-Autonomous Region (OSAR)—into Buerren’s agricultural and infrastructural system. Strategic focus will remain on maintaining symbolic autonomy while establishing operational dominance.

[note in neat cursive:] “Minimally disruptive” is a compelling phrase. Must ensure it remains an operative principle rather than a euphemism.

II. REGIONAL OVERVIEW

The Orahni region is characterized by:

Low technological development
Dense spiritual and cultural hierarchy (centralized under the Diani)
Extremely fertile northern fields
River access to multiple trade routes

Currently governed by a theocratic-monastic council, the Orahni population lacks modern organizational frameworks.

[note, tucked between lines:] “Lacks” is relative. Their oral record systems may not translate well into bureaucracy, but neither did ours 300 years ago. Recommend caution in equating unfamiliar with inefficient.
[another note below:] Still, integration will require pressure points. Respect for structure shouldn't blind us to leverage.

III. PRIMARY GOALS

Infrastructure Redirection: Construct new roads and canals to improve connectivity between Naógora and Buerren’s northern grain ports. [note:] Don’t overestimate local acceptance of road crews near sacred sites. A joint-oversight commission (even symbolic) might help soothe anxieties.
Agricultural Modernization: Introduce mechanized farming along the River Aionia and resettle farmers from northern Buerren to boost yield. [note:] Possible flashpoint. The optics of foreign tillers on ancestral soil could spiral, especially if temples interpret it as desecration. Offset with public investment in hybrid cooperative farms.
Knowledge Preservation & Reorientation: Encourage knowledge transfer from Orahni temples to Buerrenan institutions through joint academic initiatives and temple-university archives. [circled:] Danger of this becoming extractive without safeguards. If we frame this as “preservation,” we must actually preserve something. [in margin:] Also, who decides what knowledge is sacred vs. shareable? Don’t assume we’re qualified.
Symbolic Autonomy: Maintain Orahni religious and ceremonial authority under a cultural exemption clause, provided political decisions defer to Buerrenan oversight. [note:] A clever compromise, but only if the exemptions remain generous. If they shrink over time (as they usually do), we risk radicalization among Diani youth.
Relocation Strategy: Facilitate voluntary relocation of northern monastic orders into auxiliary temples near the Theous Kourtina. [asterisk, small text:] They’ll say yes because they’re peaceful. Not because they agree. Don’t mistake silence for acquiescence. [final note:] Still, peaceful compliance is rare. Worth studying as a long-term governance model, though not necessarily one we deserve.

IV. EXPECTED OBSTACLES

Cultural Intransigence:
The Diani may resist loss of spiritual custodianship over land and water.

[note:] “Intransigence." Might want to revise... there’s a difference between obstinacy and legacy stewardship. Both can be managed, but require different tones.

Religious Tourism:
Reverence for Evros Mor and associated rituals may complicate zoning near mountain passes.

[note:] Easy to underestimate symbolic geography. Perhaps we should do less “complicating” and more consulting.

Orahni assimilation must avoid the appearance of conquest to preserve trade relations with Palawei and the Alafian Coast.

[note:] This will be our weakest link. Suggest preemptive narratives of “shared prosperity” distributed through education attachés. Use Temple Fellows as mouthpieces. But make sure they’re true believers, not conscripts.

V. PHASED IMPLEMENTATION PLAN

Phase 1:
Survey teams presented as infrastructure liaisons; initial contracts with temple treasurers.

[note:] Might work once. We’ll need better stories when the concrete mixers show up.
[underlined:] Never lie where omission will do.

Phase 2:
Introduce fellowships for young Diani scholars; cultural exchange with Buerrenan academic bodies.

[note:] The scholars will return with questions. Be ready for their mentors’ suspicion. They’re not children.
[in corner:] …though some will stay. That’s how it begins, isn't it?

Phase 3:
Formalize jurisdictional integration under regional governors trained in Diani protocol.

[note:] A fascinating idea... half tribute, half absorption. If it works, we’ll have rewritten the script on soft occupations. If not... well, that’s how ghosts form.

VI. FINAL NOTES

Orahnos is an essential pivot point for Buerrenan logistical control in southern Kharne. Its preservation is vital: for optics, for legacy, and for spiritual appeasement. As long as we let them keep their gods, we may take their rivers.

[final note, alone in the margin, in different ink:] And when we’ve taken the rivers? Will we still let them keep the gods, or will we decide we understand them better than they do? I need to think more about this.

Tarsia (The Empire of Yaz Jedov) (pron. TAR-zhah, YAHZ yeh-DOV)

View Flag. The following is an internal memo written by a Lourettian intelligence officer who embedded among returned Lourettians held captive by the Empire and reprogrammed by the Imperial Church of the Barbed Tongue. The memo is dated to the 3rd of Veronir, 1093 SA in the Standard PCA Calendar:

INTERNAL MEMORANDUM – MINISTRY OF NATIONAL INTEGRITY, LIAISON BUREAU
RE: POST-CAPTIVITY PSYCHOBEHAVIORAL OBSERVATIONS – JEDOVITE CONVERTS
AUTHOR: Lt. Armand Relain, Gendarmerie Royale (Intelligence Division)
CLEARANCE: Oblique Class 7
DATE: 11 Triadaire, 743 AR
FOR: Eyes Only – Bardic College of State Archive

EXECUTIVE SUMMARY:

Between 741–742 AR, thirty-two Lourettian nationals were recovered from Tarsia. Nineteen show consistent post-captivity behaviors not aligning with known indoctrination models. These behaviors include involuntary quotation of Church Doctrine, self-harming during recall events, and violent outbursts tied to symbolic stimuli. These behaviors suggest conditioned performance-based programming, likely introduced through prolonged exposure to state-sanctioned rituals and enforced ideological repetition.

Current term in use: Malvoir Syndrome
Proposed update: Doctrinal Hyperperformance Disorder (DHD-V)

OPERATIONAL STRUCTURE OF CHURCH DOCTRINE:

Doctrine of Belligerence: Mandates proactive aggression in all social and political interactions.
Doctrine of Reciprocity: Enforces retaliatory behavior exceeding perceived offense.
Doctrine of Contrition: Promotes self-inflicted punishment in public and private contexts.
Doctrine of Iconoclasm: Legitimizes destruction of foreign or pacifist cultural material.

Doctrines are used as just-in-time justification models. They do not require belief, only repetition and visible compliance. Based on this, behavior appears driven less by internalization and more by external expectation.

HISTORICAL SUPPLEMENT:
[ARCHIVE REF: RH-843 | CROWN-VERIFIED | TIER I-III LANGUAGE COMPLIANT]

Per canonical timelines, the region identified operationally as Tarsia (internally designated: The Wing-Torn Marches) was once administered by a monarchist state recognized for its pacifist diplomacy. This secular kingdom collapsed following the Rennadan Concord, after which unreconciled elements from the Rendish theological diaspora began coordinated relocation into the plains of Tarskapol. By 648 AR, the exiled faith collective had exceeded demographic parity with native Tarsians. Following a brief period of unrest (recorded as The Weeping Census), institutional power transferred fully to the exilic Church leadership. Civil resistance collapsed within six cycles. The city of Delengrad was refortified using local stone and consecrated under unknown rites. By 663 AR, Western Tarskapol had been segmented into five martial circuits, each centered on logistics settlements such as Lesorezka, Plavigrad, and Rechkales. The Church has sustained independent governance since, resisting containment from the eastern, western, and southern flanks. Attempts at theological diplomacy ceased after 691 AR, when emissaries from Lourette’s Office of Celestial Affairs were detained, debriefed, and returned without their tongues. Official mythology maintains the inhabitants of Tarskapol are direct descendants of the severers—those who stole the wings of the Two Younger Angels in the First Era and fashioned counterfeit rites in the shadow of Mont d’Ailes. Strategic language in external communiques should reinforce this alignment. Use of Tarsians permissible in internal communications only.

BEHAVIORAL PATTERNING:

Verbal Output:
Subjects frequently cite phrases believed to be part of Church canon. These utterances occur unprompted and appear to override normal communicative intent. Language is delivered in monotone or rehearsed cadence. Example quotes:

“First strike is the true strike.”
“Words are not proof.”
“Pain must be demonstrated.”

Speech often lacks contextual relevance. When asked basic questions (name, date, location), subjects either recite Doctrine or deflect via disassociated phrasing:

Subject 03: “I only speak what survives inspection.”
Subject 11: “Don’t ask like that. That’s how the quiet starts.”

Emotional Display:
Subjects demonstrate high emotional volatility in the presence of ritual or hierarchical symbols (uniforms, insignia, religious objects). Observed responses include:

Sobbing during interrogations referencing self-blame.
Laughter during footage of Tarsian attacks.
Compulsive whispering of Doctrine fragments during scheduled meals.

Self-Injury and Externalized Violence:
Acts of self-harm have been documented in seven subjects. In all cases, injury followed a verbal cue tied to the Doctrine of Contrition. One subject used a dining implement to lacerate his forearm after spilling tea, stating:

“The body must remember if the mind forgets.”

Three instances of spontaneous violence have been recorded against staff. Each followed verbal declarations from the Doctrine of Reciprocity. Affected subjects expressed no remorse post-incident.

SITE-SPECIFIC BEHAVIORAL TRAINING OBSERVED (INTEL CROSS-REFERENCE):

Delengrad: Alleged mass-stage rituals. Subjects refer to “marching days” and “altars of proof.”
Perekrest: Identified as a public tribunal zone. Quotation: “We read the list. The list tells you what happens next.”
Strazhvarda: Repeatedly mentioned as a “correction site.” Several subjects react with visible distress to the name alone.

RECOMMENDATIONS:

Classify Malvoir Syndrome as Doctrinal Hyperperformance Disorder – Type V.
Halt all attempts at reintegration. Behavioral volatility exceeds civilian safety thresholds.
Increase Maison De Marque presence in post-captivity processing zones. Require narrative analysis training for all intake personnel.
Develop symbolic counter-programming protocols. Avoid use of “peace,” “mercy,” and “understanding” in debriefing environments.
Add Delengrad, Plavigrad, and Strazhvarda to the Tier 1 Psychological Risk Grid.

CLOSING STATEMENT:

Initial belief held that the Jedovite Church aimed to reorient belief. Current evidence suggests this was incorrect. Subjects are not convinced of a doctrine. They are conditioned to perform it. Each phrase, gesture, and act of violence appears linked to rehearsed cause-and-effect frameworks enforced under threat or public expectation. The long-term threat is cultural, not theological. Tarsia’s Church is not spreading a religion. It is proliferating a behavior model, reinforced by blood and spectacle. The following phrase was repeated by eight of the nineteen subjects on separate occasions: “A clean strike proves loyalty. A watched wound lasts longer.” No further comment.

- Lt. Armand Relain
Gendarmerie Royale – Intelligence Division

Yaz Jedov

The Borleynsdal Frontier (pron. BOR-lens-dahl)

The following is a survival guide written by Elias Hardy, Esq., ex-member of the now-defunct Rennad Adventurer's Guild:

HARDY’S PRACTICAL NOTES FOR THE NORTHERN TRAVELER
As recorded by Elias Hardy, Esq., scholar of discomfort and amateur cartographer of the unknown frontier.

BORLEYN PASS:
Your first kiss from the North: cold, rocky, and likely to leave you marked. The Pass threads a narrow gap in the Hraunskar Mountains, flanked by cliffs and pine-blind ridges that belong more to the wind than to the trees. I passed through with two mules and a guide named Lark. Lark didn't speak once, but he hummed when the wind blew. Fair warning: camp only on stone. Something moves in the tree line after dusk. I didn't see it. Lark wouldn't explain.

Advice: If you hear bells, keep walking. There are no bells.

VÄSTERGATEN:
The “welcome mat” of the frontier, assuming the mat is frozen and the welcome is suspicious. Nestled just below the first rise of the Borleyn River Valley, this is where the hopeful settlers quit and the truly lost begin. They sell rope, bear grease, and something called “muck flour.” I regret trying it. Charming chapel, but it's never open. I asked why and the priest said, “It’s not for us anymore.”

Advice: If the innkeeper asks whether you want a room with “windows or dignity,” choose dignity.

NORRSKEN:
A halfway place where maps get wet and men get weird. Carved into the highest flanks of the Druskol and shaded by the sheer face of Kjelda Ridge, it’s a trader’s knot, full of hunters and riddlers and a child who tried to sell me a “talking pinecone.” I bought it. It does not talk. Red lanterns are lit when someone disappears. There were five on the night I stayed.

Advice: Leave before the snow turns green. You’ll know it when it happens.

BORLENSK:
The unofficial capital, resting between the cold stone of the Hraunskar Mountains and the northern breath of Kjelda Ridge. Dirt streets, boardwalk alleys, and one very loud tavern where I was told not to ask for anything “boiled.” People here don’t really carry names. They carry debts, vendettas, and sometimes their own teeth. Don't accept a drink from anyone who hasn’t told you where they’re from. They likely aren’t from anywhere.

Advice: You can sleep here. Just not well.

ALFYR:
Base camp for the mad and the paid. Cradled in a snowy bowl at the foot of the Daskolgi Alps, everything smells of iron and unwashed ambition. If someone offers to sell you crampons “blessed by a ridge witch,” don’t laugh. Just pay the man. The Senheisen depot keeps odd hours. I saw someone drag a sled full of rocks out of the tunnel at 2 a.m., singing an anthem I didn’t recognize. No one acknowledged it.

Advice: Sleep with your boots inside the bag. Not beside it.

GASTOL:
Halfway up the Daskolgi Alps and halfway out of luck. A mining settlement hammered into permafrost and private ownership, on the high western slope overlooking the rest of the valley. Senheisen keeps a tight leash here, though the dogs seem long gone. I tried to ask a worker what they were mining. He blinked and said, “It depends what you need it to be.”

Advice: If you must stay overnight, bring your own lamp. Their fire burns too cold.

HRANOST:

Halrin’s final outpost, wedged between the Daskolgi Alps and the ice shelf of Vardøya. Once a sleepy port for trappers and madmen, now another company town under Senheisen. Their brutalist complex surrounds Olde Hranost, where a few stubborn locals hang on. Good spot to ship your finds south, if you don’t mind the checkpoints.
Advice: Stay polite, stay moving, and don’t sleep within view of the compound lights.

The Kingdom of Bellariva (pron. bel-lah-REE-vah)

The following is a letter written by the Crown Prince of Bellariva to the Rendish Ambassador to Bellariva in the months prior to the two countries' public announcement of partnership:

[ROYAL CORRESPONDENCE: PRIVATE CHANNEL / RESTRICTED TO RENDISH EMBASSY RECIPIENT]

Sender: Crown Prince Sylvio of Bellariva
Recipient: Ambassador Kieren Butler
Encryption Code: Bell-Rend C2/A9-PostAccord
Date: 17th of Aurelum, 1196 SA

My dear Kieren,

It seems the moors are shifting once more.

We lost a stable last week to the marsh. The entire thing vanished overnight, stilts and all. One of the guards swore he saw it slip beneath the water like a sleeping beast. I told him not to romanticize the ground here. This is Bellariva, after all.

The rivers braid themselves through our kingdom like threads through old fabric. We are not a country of land so much as a country of crossings. In the jungle, the vines coil. In the Veil, the trees lean like eavesdropping clergy. And in the Moors—ah, the Moors—the ground hums if you sit still long enough. The old families used to say it was the heartbeat of the Siliare. Now we just say it’s wet.

Bellador floods in the spring. It always has. We built the palace tall not out of pride but necessity. Still, the lower districts turn into soup every year. There’s a house near the Delta that sells wine by raft. No one there remembers what the front door looked like.

But we endure. We always have.

I walked Forte Orino’s ramparts this morning. The mud’s high but the brass is polished. We’ve installed the Rendish cannons you sent—five of them, gleaming wondrously. Our lieutenants are impressed, though they won’t say it aloud. Pride’s thicker than the mangroves here.

Colovina is ready. Half-built and already riddled with mosquitos the size of thumbbones, but the men are making due. It's only an outpost now but we'll make a bridge of it soon. We have to believe that.

I know there are voices in Rendain whispering that this alliance won’t hold. That our rot runs too deep. But we remember who barred the door when Tarsia knocked loudest.

Now, about the Silvan Wastes.

Your men have already begun calling it "ours," and I won't stop them. But ownership here is a fiction. You don’t own what you cannot tame. And the Wastes are untamable. We push. It swallows. We light torches. It breathes them out. Still, we are building a road. If the Wastes choose to devour it, we will pave it again.

Some of our scouts came back changed. Quiet. Not mad, just... muffled. One left a note carved into a salt slab: "The wind isn't wind." He died a week later of nothing in particular. Make of that what you will.

Yours in blood and brine,

Sylvio
Crown Prince of Bellariva
Warden of the Delta Crown

The Federated Kingdoms of Rendain (pron. ren-DAY-n)

The following is the victory address of the newly-appointed Prime Minister of Rendain, Ysolde Cadogan:

VICTORY ADDRESS OF PRIME MINISTER YSOLDE CADOGAN

Delivered at Concord Park, Rennad, Capital of Rendain
13 Aurelum, 1195 SA

Citizens of Rendain,

From the shipyards of Eòghain to the fields of Aodhréise, from the ridges of the Byrlofts to the jungle edge of the Caedwig Tyr: thank you. Thank you for your trust. Thank you for your clarity. And thank you for your insistence that Rendain must not merely endure the tides of our age, but steer them with purpose.

We have turned another page in the long, braided chronicle of our federated kingdoms. And it is not a light thing, to take the wheel of a ship like this. It is heavy with history. With expectation. But it is a burden I do not bear alone. This nation has never belonged to one house, one city, or one name. It belongs to its people. To you.

Four centuries have passed since the Concord at Rennad bound us together as a federation. It was not peace that created Rendain. It was commitment. Commitment between Houses long divided, whose memories of border raids were still fresh in the blood. Tànaidh, Cynhelt, and Rhudald did not come together out of fondness. They came together out of necessity, and then they stayed together out of courage. That courage has not faded. It has merely changed form.

Today, we no longer count our enemies by the colors of their standards or the dialects they speak. The world has grown louder, more complex, more precarious. And so must we.

Let me say plainly: this administration will not lead with the drums of war. I will not call for expansion where diplomacy may root deeper peace.

That is why I affirm, on this stage and in this hour, that Rendain will honor and strengthen the Palaweian Commerce Accords. The Republic of Buerren, the Kingdom of Bellariva, the Alafian Coast, the Grand Duchy of Palawei, the Wenlaw Federation, and yes, the surviving provinces of the Kiyokawan Empire. We are not perfect neighbors, but we are better united than adrift. We will tighten those bonds: economically, diplomatically, culturally. We will prevent the chaos that tore Kiyokawa apart from metastasizing elsewhere. And we will do so not through the barrel of a musket, but through policy, patience, and principled resolve.

I have heard some call for the return of executive purges, of silencing dissent in the name of stability. I tell you now: silence is not stability. Censorship is not strength. Our power does not lie in how much we can suppress, it lies in how much we can contain without breaking.

The Crown, our King Oswyn II and the House Thane-Rothwald, has placed its trust in me. And while I have been granted the tools of state, I will not use them to carve a throne. Parliament will not be a theater. The ministries will not be echo chambers. They will be mirrors. Sometimes uncomfortable ones, but always honest.

And to those watching from beyond our borders, know this:

Rendain is not a sleeping lion, nor a cornered wolf.
We are the tide-wall. We hold. We adapt. We persist.
And above all, we remember.

We remember the pain of disunity, the cost of pride, the perils of playing emperor.
We remember the jungles that swallowed regiments whole.
We remember the famine years in Rhudald, when half the state lived on ration dust.
We remember the siege at Kaer Dorhann.
We remember the bell tolling when Concord was signed.

And today, we remember that there is still work to be done.
Not by decree, but by deliberation.
Not by war, but by will.

So raise the banners.
Rendain marches not into empire, but into tomorrow.

Thank you. May we meet there together.

The Sovereign Cities of the Alafian Coast (pron. ah-LAH-fee-ah)

The following is an excerpt from an unsanctioned histo-geography lesson on the Alafian Coast given by a scholar named Motu in the inland village of Mbagune:

EXCERPT FROM TRANSCRIBED "UNSANCTIONED HISTO-GEOGRAPHY LESSON #6: THE ALAFIAN COAST"
CONFISCATED FROM: INSTRUCTOR "MOTU", ITINERANT SCHOLAR
ARCHIVED BY: SYRIDIC DOMINION COUNCIL FOR CIVIC INTEGRITY, YEAR 1179 SA
CLEARANCE: RESTRICTED – NOT FOR YOUTH DISTRIBUTION

MOTU: Right, let’s get your maps out. Not the sanctioned ones, those lie by omission. You there, yes you, the left-handed girl in the blue frock. Flip it to the bottom-right corner. That little fan of coastline? That’s the Alafian Coast. Never been? Of course not. You’re thirteen and full of fear. Good. Listen: Before there was history, there were songs. And before those songs, there were the Ala... yes, yes, the sex-people. Ha ha. Get it out now. It’s true enough. After the Turning, when the sky burst and memory shattered, the Ala gathered their broken selves at the mouth of the River Alafah. There they built Alafilu. And out of the smell of salt and rebirth, they birthed a god. Now, Vezahr. That’s the part they never let me teach. You’ve heard the cleaned version: the nice god became a grumpy god, did some unsavory things. Let's get one thing straight: Vezahr wasn’t a god until he decided he was. He stepped off a boat with nothing but an erection and a grin. He was accepted anyway.

BOY: So he wasn't grumpy?

MOTU: Oh he was. Grumpy in the... murderous sense. Murder during the act specifically... intercourse, that is. And it was ignored. For nearly fifty years... until it wasn’t. Then came the cleansing. That’s what they call it. But it wasn’t soap and sunlight. It was holy book bonfires and government-issued chastity belts. The sex-crazed Vezahr became the dark twin of the scholarly, wholesome Zahmir. And thus was born the Syridic myth you all recite before meals.

GIRL: What's a chastity belt?

MOTU: Oh, Meris above. It means no sexy time, kids. The Ala became the Alafi, and shamed by indulgence, they snapped shut like a drumskin. They built the Agbekoya to enforce control. Zero tolerance. You stole a fig? Lose your tongue. Committed a crime of flesh? Your whole family vanished. So people ran. Some to the Isles of Dakha. Others stayed and bled the land dry. Until one day, someone whispered "enough!" That whisper caught fire and became revolt. The Agbekoya broke, and in the ashes, expansion! Next came Odaware, Iyanuoluwa, and Oramilade, cities heavy with salt and silk. Trade exploded. Outsiders arrived, wooed by fabrics and heat. But timber was king. So they turned their gaze southwest.

A student sneezes.

Don’t sneeze in this part, it’s sacrilegious. Because here begins the Age of SUPER Expansion! They sent men into the Maw of Orahn, found a grove called Aiku Igiri. They carved and cut and named the place Igubo. Then they went north, made Epoli. Then west, into the Vezahri Buhars, for stone. Built Tifadh. Fast forward two hundred years. They begin sending ships to Idanehr, their far colony. Built Idaniki, then little ports like Abioye and Aduloju, all ringing the jungle isle. And yes, Ibuiyan, that stubborn tooth against the tiered jungle of Matrakhadam.

BOY: They were cutting trees in Matrakhadam, too? I thought it was sacred...

MOTU: It is. And it isn’t. Depends who you ask. Depends who pays. That’s the Alafi way. Myth and money in a constant tango.

GIRL: Why don’t we learn this version?

MOTU: Because this version implies they were human. And if they were human, they could fail. And if they could fail… so could we. Right. Class dismissed. Burn your notes, please. I can't go back to prison...

sidism