A Lord's Decree
The year 211: the Old City boasts some five-thousand citizens in and around its polished stone walls. Ships mill about in the bay, bringing fish from the Halcyon’s depths, sending supplies to the pioneers settling on the continent’s west coast, and embarking on the months-long journey to Garamonde in the East with dreams of the exotic fabrics and spices they will return with. Farmers and ranchers work the land many miles along the mainland valley, their corn, apples, and beef filling the old market with rich colours and savoury scents. Miners and loggers arrive to flung-open gates, eager to receive their carts of goods and transform the raw metal and rough timber into the lavish inns, churches, halls, and homes of the rapidly-growing city.
Old feuds forgotten, or at least the subject of forgetting, elves and dwarves live and work and worship among the pious people of Cairnspeak, and the steadfast and honourable militia dilligently keep the roads and walls safe from the ragtag clans of ogres and goblins that persist in the northern wilds. Villages not unlike the Bishop’s original settlement have sprung up in the lands beyond, under the protective mantle of the current lord: Yvan Kuromane.
Kuromane himself descended from a line of leaders known for their wisdom and foresight, sired by a pioneer from the original pilgrimage whose hard work and steadfast efforts spurred his community to look to him as their leader, first in spirit and eventually in title. The patriarch, Eben Kuromane, had not been a follower of Bishop Carvour’s, although associated closely with one of the young priests, Carvyn Garrous, who would go on to succeed Carvour after spearheading the lighthouse project. The two friends shaped the community together, with contrasting viewpoints that unerringly complimented one another. Although Eben’s family would retain the mantle of Lord for many centuries, Garrous died without an heir, and the church would go on to appoint new leaders once the current Bishop reached old age.
Yvan, during his time, spent his middle years haunted by the death of his wife and eldest son at the hands of a half-ogre mage, educated by his own city’s preeminent school of wizardry. Though the rogue ogre-kin was caught and executed swiftly, he would not expound upon his motive-this Kuromane took his fell action as simple racial hatred and envy, and he thereafter issued a decree that all the beasts of the northern wilderness must be exterminated immediately, lest their influence corrupt the souls of the people of Cairnspeak. 211 would be christened “the year of blackest bloodtide” by the historians of the next generation.