THE PROVINCE OF MIRITONIA

[Arien]

The world of Miritonia was envisioned in the beginning, to be its own game world, played as a play by post forum rp, on stand alone proboards. The opportunity to play in a more live turn chat setting, and the unlimited realm potential offered by Realms however, has encouraged me to bring the game world here, as a Province of these realms. All are free to build characters to play in the province, to build rooms for it, and to have Miritonian based characters interact with others on the Nyxian timeline here. I'll be transposing the backstory information that has already been generated for the province here, into this one central informational thread. Players may feel free to add their own as story progresses.

The basic premise for interaction between Miritonia province and, (for lack of any other known name) Nyxhaven, is that a unit of Guardians has been deployed to the island to search for, find and destroy, if possible, one of the twelve known phylactery spheres that grant Xathor the Destroyer influence on the mortal plane. These objects were scattered throughout the realms, and it has long been the mission of the guardians to remove them from this world.
 
The role play will allow for interaction between guardian characters, and characters who are made to play as Xathor’s chosen. The objective of The chosen would be to protect the sphere and oppose the guardians’ efforts where appropriate. What The Chosen look like in action, will be left up to organic role -play to determine. (Details about both of the factions mentioned here can be found further along in this thread.)
 
As a side note. It is not the intent of this role play to cause conflict and unrest to descend on Nyx isle, although some stirring of the waters will likely happen when characters from the two story worlds intermingle.  I’m hopeful that the segment of the role play that overlaps the Nyx experience remains by and large a search and recover operation, but role play will determine that outcome. The beauty of Realms however, is that story can ‘move’ locations as rooms are built to accommodate it. And so there is nothing to stop a story from starting on Nyxhaven, and moving to Miritonia province icly as tensions and hostilities possibly heat up, thereby leaving the relative peace of the island intact..
 
Nyx Pack characters are of course welcome to post into the story, but as always bear in mind that what affects one, affects all, and that this second story is intended mainly to offer an opportunity for a fresh start with characters not tied to the various games from which we have come.
 
If you are interested in playing this story, feel free to send a pm poke. A number of characters from Miritonia are already here and in play, this story premise will just serve to give purpose to their presence here. Thanks for reading along and I look forward to interacting with you in the story.

Thanks for playing along!

[Arien]

Here, in a fantastical, sprawling meeting of worlds found nestled at elevation between the peaks of encircling mountains, adventure, political intrigue, romance and enterprise awaits only your imagination to come to life.

Within this world, your options for character generation are extensive, with Human, Elf, Dragon, Avian, Hobbit, Dwarf, Goblin, Drow and Orc being playable races,along with traditional mixed bloods and Halflings of the same. There may be potential for more to develop.

The creation of Miritonia will be quite organic, with the writers having the ability to build on and expand the world with their storytelling. As such, we anticipate a fairly deep investment of interest and energies from those prepared to undertake this journey with us long term. Every tale must begin somewhere, however, and so we are providing here a very general description of Miritonia as we envision it. The dominant regions of the world are, in brief:

The Mountains- the domain of the dragons, orcs and dwarves who are often at war over territory. (Dragons on the peaks, the others in/on the mountain itself)

The Plains- fairly open lands cultivated and built up by primarily human occupants. The Hobbits also occupy the plains surface, though usually areas that dip below surfaceground level without going underground.

The Forests- Forested lands that are the primary domain of the Elves.

The Underdark- The domain of the Drow and Goblins who are often in conflict over territory.

The First Heaven- Avians reside in floating cities that hover above the world.

We have provided the bare essentials required for the growth of the world, and leave the births and deaths of new areas and factions entirely up to the players. There is something akin to an overall plot, and this is presently dictated by the existence of a Dark Unknown, who exists to give purpose to the many evil characters we will undoubtedly come across, other than simply 'being evil' for no obvious reasons. You will come across more detailed explanation of this on the posts dedicated to describing the factions of the land.

[Arien]

One of the most influential and recognizable factions that exists in the land of Miritonia, is that of The Guardians. This military and in some regards secretive Order has existed and served for seven hundred years; their mission, to preserve the balance of their world as a collection of neutral warders.
 
The Vyrdaes are the most influential and powerful of the Guardians and are members of the innermost circle of leadership. Often operating from the shadows, their affiliation with the order is unknown to those faction interests they normally represent until circumstances require that their hand be played openly. Their tendrils of influence reach deeply into all spheres of authority in Miritonia, many serving as political advisors to leaders of other factions and races, or military commanders for the same. Many of their members occupy positions of authority in the institutions that preserve the history and cultures of the world or serve as tutors of magic at the highest levels within the various academies of magics scattered throughout the lands. The Vyrdaes, by nature of their purpose are often scattered throughout the lands, returning to Kallagrim’s Keep in secret for regularly scheduled council in which the current state of the world is defined, and appropriate corrective measures determined if needed. One member of the Vyrdaes remains in residence at the citadel, functioning as its defacto leader responsible for the management of the city. There are currently twenty five members of this inner circle of power.

The less secretive face of the faction, and the one that interacts most directly and openly with the peoples of the land are the Vyraelys, the protectors. The work horses of the Guardians, these knights, warriors and mages as well as the military commanders and the resident city politicos who lead them, all serve as the hands and feet of the Vyrdaes, putting into action the plans and resolutions made in secret council. Currently this branch numbers around three thousand five hundred strong, a full one third of the population of Kallagrim’s Keep which numbers approximately ten thousand in total. The strategic location of the Keep, and the trade with the dwarven tribes that it facilitates, has meant that the warriors of the citadel have easy and inexpensive access to some of the finest crafted weapons and armors in this world, and they put them to good use.

Over the course of half a mellenia, Guardians have arisen and fallen, met with successes and failures, but their presence has markedly affected to course of the evolution of Miritonian history. In its hours of greatest need, these heroes have always risen to meet the challenge.

Origins:

 After seven hundred years the birth of the Guardians has become somewhat shrouded in mystery, its founders almost mythical and legendary. Many who fly the standard now, wonder if the tales told of Kal Ael are even true.

The historians who pored over the ancient transcripts of the Citadel library found fleeting mention of a hero, a Dragon Knight of great power who arose as the nemesis of Xaroth the Destroyer when that dark evil descended upon the lands almost a millennium ago. It was the charismatic leadership of this dragon that brought together the splintered factions in the land in a single alliance that was ultimately able to defeat the dark magus and his cohorts after a costly and extensive world wide war. It was upon the killing, and seeming defeat of the Destroyer that the first recorded references to The Guardians as an order are found, its original constitution seeming to be solely what has come to be known as the Vyrdaes of the present day.

Gradually, over time, the influence and power of the Guardians increased, as did their numbers, and with the securing of Kallagrim’s Keep as a base of operations five hundred years ago, their place in Miritonian lore was secured. What became of Kal Ael remains the stuff of legend. Some say he was the founder of The Guardians, remaining with them only long enough to establish the mission and purpose they would follow ever after, before disappearing as suddenly as he had arrived. Others say his was the hand that slew the Destroyer, and that he was himself mortally wounded in the battle.

The truth, likely lays somewhere in between.

http://media.photobucket.com/image/knights%20and%20dragons/NVTT/Dragon_Knight_by_Makrura.jpg

[Arien]

One thousand years ago, in the land of Miritonia, the history of the Human Imperium was born, and with it, ironically, the possible seeds of its own demise and the demise of the world it occupied.

For hundreds, nay, thousands of years prior, humanity had lain in metaphoric shackles. They were a barbaric brute force, empty of magic and the inherent genetic capabilities of the elder races who often harvested the Plains for slaves with labor raids, scattering human seed into domains within this world that were not native to them. Their strength had been their intellect and ingenuity as well as their drive to be free. It was this ingenuity that allowed a human child, the boy Xathor to survive in the Underdark- to live and grow as a despised, ignored and conveniently overlooked servant in the home of the High Priestess to the matriarch. The boy became a youth, present at ceremonies of great power, keen intellect memorizing the spells and rituals that gave his mistress her power. The unknown student of a master, he bided his time until he was sure he knew enough to escape the grip of the Underdark alive, and then did so, bearing within him knowledge and power rare enough, if not unique to any plains surface human. The Power of Dark magics.


Becoming the Arch-Magistrate

Xathor emerged from a world of darkness into a life on the surface that was itself in dark turmoil. For months the teenager wandered from township to township through terrain ravaged by the battles of conquest; wars fought by the dragon Vatticus and his forces against what tribal warlords existed in the plains. He had been settled in the town of Ibbenus for almost a year, plying his service of petty magic for a fee-the town witch doctor, for lack of a better description- when Vatticus and his dragon knights descended upon that town to conquer it for annexation to his growing Empire. Cornered in battle while defending the town that had become his home, Xathor called upon the deepest reserves of the dark magic he had learned, and thus came to the attention of the emperor Vatticus.

Not one to let opportunity pass him by, Vatticus lured the youth into his service with the promise of power and greatness. Training would be provided in the arcane that he had not yet mastered and access provided to the finest imperial libraries; all of this, if he would agree to use his magic, and his humanity to help secure the Dragon’s place as accepted emperor of a largely human empire. Xathor agreed, his mind churning out plots that saw his own advancement and empowerment, a process that he intended would end in the claiming of the throne for his own someday-but this was not to be.

Twenty years later at  the height of his prime and power, and poised finally to strike at the hand that had nurtured him, Xathor, then the Arch-Magistrate of the Empire saw his prize slip away in the rebellious uprising of the plains humans. The human Lucien was named Emperor and the new Human Imperium established. When it became evident that Vatticus had been over run and slain, Xathor, in an act of self preservation abandoned his post and slunk away to recalibrate his plan to accommodate the new reality.

 
The Emergence of Xathor the Destroyer

For three hundred years the Imperium grew and thrived, the sad echoes of its tumultuous formation fading eventually with the passage of time and short mortal life spans. Those few within the Empire’s borders of the racial longevity to even remember the Arch-Magistrate, presumed him hundreds of years dead, nothing having been seen or heard of him from the time of the battle. They were to be proven wrong. Xathor had never lost sight of his purpose, his thirst for power insatiable. For it he would give anything, and he had given up his soul. Xathor reappeared, a Lich and an unknown to the living human generations, to wage war against the Imperium with his horde of dark minions- among them an army of undead under his control. Unlike most other Liches, Xathor’s soul was housed not in one phylactery, but twelve; twelve shimmering orbs, scattered and secreted throughout the known world before ever he had made his return, and thus he loomed a menace, a seemingly unstoppable, unkillable force, set to take over one kingdom and then possibly, a world. It was only the rise of Kal Ael, and the allied armies he led to battle against the Destroyer, that prevented the achieving of his goal. Even his power, faced by the combined resources of an entire world, was no match. The end come in an instant of tactical retreat-a repeat it seemed of his first disappearance. Lost in the fog of war, the truth of the fate of the great nemesis remained unclear and stories of his death abounded. Such would be natural, given the absence of further assault. Power..he needed more power; enough that even everything this world could throw at him, would not deny him his prize. They would all kneel before him.

 
Xathor the Ascended.

Seven hundred years later, in the present day, Xathor the Destroyer is but a tale told to scare the children into behaving, and a chapter in the history lessons learned in the school room . As shadowy as the myths and legends of his greatest nemesis Kal Ael are, even more so are the myths and legends told of this once great Terror. But time has been his friend, and this day and hour finds him Ascended..a spirit, still lusting to control and destroy the world that eluded him. With no body to sit upon the throne, his essence reaches out, seeking those of equally dark passions and lusts to be his hands and feet. Ascended he may be, but his soul sings a siren’s song from 12 shimmering phylacteries seeking his Chosen. He will live his dream through them.

Until each and every orb is found and destroyed, ending him forever, they remain a pathway-a means of communication to his non corporeal essence for those whom are fated to find them. Until they are destroyed Miritonia will never rest in peace.

Someday, he will find the hands that can do, with his help, that which he was never able to do himself-and the world will pay the price.

http://media.photobucket.com/image/dark%20mage/qala77/Geminimage.jpg

[Arien]

And so the Tyrant fell. Emperor Vatticus cowered in his palace while the enemy pounded upon the gates. He watched as his city burned... and cursed the humans for their ingenuity. He had been so blinded by his own superiority... that he had never seen them building up their armies. He hadn't recongized their actions for what they were. On the horizon, he saw his Grand Magistrate's tower aflame. With his magic gone... and his slaves in revolt... Emperor Vatticus returned to his solitary throne and let the flames consume him."
-Theodas Telvitticus, Imperial Historical Scholar


Ever since overthrowing their slave-master Emperor Vatticus, the Human Imperium has found itself having difficulty in overcoming the racial tensions arisen from their time of bondage. Racism against those of non-human or half-human heritage is rampant, most especially throughout the far-flung reaches of the Empire. While the Imperial City is far more accepting and progressive... there has been very little effort given to convincing the rural communities dotted across the land to give up their pretenses.

Culture within the Imperium is an amalgamation of many differing cultures which arose out of the slave camps and farming villages across the Great Central Plains. Although some influence from the eastern nation of Eltriese have managed to seep their way in during the course of trade... the fashions and stylings of the Imperium are very utilitarian and spartan by comparison to most.

Still recovering from the first attacks upon their lands by the Bastard-God (Xathor), Emperor Kaele Rhendorian has agreed to open positions throughout the Imperial Army to any and all willing to wield a blade: man or woman, human or elf, and anything beyond or in-between. His actions have made the outlying communities very nervous, and some speak of dissent. Still, his policies have proven very popular with those living in the city... and the army has grown exponentially in size since the new ruling was put into effect.

The Human Imperium, on the whole, has shown itself capable of great things... both terrific, and terrible. So long as one sticks to the more cosmopolitan regions of the empire, they are likely to be welcomed and responded to warmly. But venture into the back woods... and one will find themselves trudging through the cold, bitter cloud of a people who would rather keep to their own.

[Arien]

Kallagrim's Keep is located on the western base of Kallagrim's Impass, a ridge of jagged mountains famed for it's supposed impossibility to navigate. A large wall rings around the semi-circle shaped city, a single large gate the only way in and out of the layered citadel. The gate gives way to the high street, a long, wide avenue that branches off into smaller streets that allow one tonavigate the housing district that is the purpose of the city's ground layer. Here the majority of the population is confined, living in homes of moderate size and comfort throughout, and there seems to be no clear distinction between richer and poorer districts. Residents congeal in small courtyards throughout the collection of domestics to trade wares, and shops are present sparingly throughout to cater to those requiring basic living essentials.

A popular spot is the Inn of the Keep, a large tavern and boarding house which enjoys a thriving income from those who stay to visit the marketplace, and its lax rules regarding drinking and smoking make it a favourite with the locals. A less liked establishment is the Sleeping Silver which, as the name suggests, is a more lavish and expensive inn, where those too civilized to rest among the riff-raff taste fine wines and discuss politics.

The economy of Kallagrim's Keep is based largely on Kallagrim's Market, which is composed of the entirety of the citadel's second tier. Blacksmiths, tanners, tailors and more can be seen calling for the attention of the milling throngs of shoppers who wade in and out of the stalls and booths, drinking in the exotic sights of rare silks and foreign luxuries, the tempting smells of fine meats roasting on spits. Opportunists haggle with merchants from all over the world, some spending days in search of ancient artefacts or rare artwork. If it can't be found in Kallagrim's Market, there is a strong possibility it doesn't exist.

The third citadel tier is completely walled and ceiling'd off from the outside, a towering stone fortress dumped on top of a functioning city. Within the corridor-connected buildings of this lofty level are the Guardians. The collective towers and keeps house the Guardians' many armouries, entire buildings devoted purely to the purpose of housing the racks upon racks of swords, maces, shields, breastplates and Gods-know-what-else. Training facilities are a common feature, specific locations devoted to the tutoring of newcomers and the advancement of initiates respectively. A large, tall spire rises from the east of the city, containing board and facilities to teach and practise the casting of spells utilised by the Guardians' mages, while a cluster of towers in the west houses the common soldier. The tallest peak, rising from the very centre of the city boards the officials of the city, most of them amongst the highest echelons of the Guardians themselves, with a large chamber at the very top of this tower to act as a conference room. Important decisions regarding the city are oft made here, for the betterment of the population or the Guardians themselves.

Due to the heavy Guardian presence and their vigilant uphold of the city's laws, crime is very rare. Steep fines are given for offences such as fraud or thievery, with those caught in public brawls often executed on the spot by the city guard. The efficiency of the law, however, may be due to its relative lack. Free trade is legal, even encouraged, and materials and substances outlawed elsewhere can be found displayed in plain sight.

Kallagrim's Keep is regarded as a sovereign city-state, between the fringe of the Empire and the various settlements in the eastern mountains. Often is the Keep requested to aid a nearby Dwarf clan drive the greenskin menace back to a safe distance, often choosing to do so in exchange for promising Dwarvern warriors to serve the Guardians, and always surplus treasures and resources. The Empire takes little interest in the Keep, though neighbouring cities are always eager to trade with the thriving citadel.

Kallagrim's Keep began its existence as an Empire outpost, connecting the fledgeling Empire to the Dwarf clans beyond Kallagrim's Impass, and making trade possible with the mountainous people. As the Empire spread out across the plains, gaining power and influence, the Keep was left abandoned, and for decades trade with the eastern Dwarf clans ceased. It was the Guardians who claimed the decadent Keep for their own, and set about rebuilding and expanding the outpost into a powerful fortress within the mountain side. They began to charging those wishing to travel through Kallagrim's Impass in exchange for accompanying guards to defend against Orc raiders, and soon merchants from the Empire were eager to make the journey to acquire Dwarvern wares which sold richly throughout the Imperial territories. The Guardians were able to draw recruits from the travelling parties, enabling the growth of the Keep to include a marketplace, and make regular patrols throughout Kallagrim's Impass to ensure the road was kept safe for travellers. In exchange for a reasonable tax merchants of every sort began to set-up shop in Kallagrim's Market, many applying for permission to build homes for their families in the nearby plains within walking distance of the Market. Kallagrim's Keep closed it's borders to the influx of immigrants as the ever-growing city threatened competition with neighbouring Imperial cities for resources, the construction of a great wall around the city a final act of sovereignty to the Emperor who had been pushing for the Keep to rejoin the Empire that had forgotten it, noting the wealth such a thriving trade-settlement could bring to his treasury. Kallagrim's Keep now stands resolute upon the mountains of Kallagrim's Impass, a home to those who fly the Guardians' banner, provider of food and shelter to thousands of citizens. Orc raids have all but ceased on the nearby mountain Impass, Dwarf clans allowed to thrive and squabble between themselves. Without the Keep Dwarven craft would be all but non-existent to the wider world.

http://img-fan.theonering.net/rolozo/images/sotomayor/Minas_Tirith.jpg

[Arien]

Almost forgotten on the eastern fringe of the plains Empire, can be found the Human city of Griffinmoor, so named for the griffins that once lived on the peaks of the bute that arc in natural, wind blasted rock formations over the run down mining city below. Situated on the west bank of what is left of the Plains River, a once sturdy city wall is now crumbling, and in some places clearly patched with less substantial masonry, though some attempt at guard is mounted there, it seems by mercenaries for hire, whose intent may be to prevent the capture of the city and what functioning mine remains.

The city gates spill open into the grimy heart of the dilapidated marketplace, where vendors are as likely to be wearing a weapon as an apron, and silver can be made by any willing to risk their lives as a Goods Guard. In a destitute city every good is a luxury, be it food, clothing or weapons and armor. Those with access to these items hold power and those without beg, steal or kill to get it. For this reason, life in this outpost is among the most dangerous in the plains Empire, and the most segregated by class, which is evidenced by the city’s demographics.

On the outskirts of the market place and at the head of the main high road into the city proper, can be found the only Inn and Taproom that remains open in the city. The Griffin’s Nest has become a den for open prostitution, gambling and hard drinking, for the impoverished masses, while also providing in some of its smaller private dining rooms for hire, an atmosphere more comfortable for those with gold to secure it. Operated by the largest remaining stakeholder in the mine, the Inn is the only constructed community gathering place in town and is the heart of what social life remains in the beleaguered city.

While fortunate enough not to live in the compressed conditions of a more developed city, the scattering of mining homesteads and farms dotted about in the shadows of the bute are little more than hovels. Seven years into a drought, the land yields little, and the mines yield less- neighbors are more likely to raid each other’s territory than lend a helping hand. Those too poor to own even these destitute deeds, are compacted into the city slum, a collection of make shift shacks that have sprung up under the protective arch of the bute on either side of the high road to the mine. Life here, is selfish and savage and stands in stark contrast to the far more comfortable living in the forts and manors of the wealthy few who remain. These more elaborate, if still run down homesteads are perched high above the city proper in the nooks and crags that were once home to the griffins, well out of reach of the crime and desolation festering below.

The economy of Griffinmoor was and is entirely based on the mine that is excavated just to the North of the bute. Discovered 200 years prior, the ore prompted a gold rush that saw the city grow by leaps and bounds into a prosperous mining city. Countless fortunes were made and lost until the vein gradually began to lessen its yield and only the foolish, the desperate or the most idealistic remained in the town, hoping that luck would strike twice in the same place. Fortunately for one such, a single new vein was found, yielding a pitiful but steady enough stream of ore to keep the mining town on its legs, though much enfeebled. Demand for work outstripped supply, forcing wages down and laborers to compete with each other for the right to even enter the mine for that day’s pittance, placing the power and control of the city’s wealth in the hands of the few who paid dearly to the rights to the vein.

This peculiar combination of geography and circumstances makes Griffinmoor the most savage and lawless city of the plains Empire. Some semblance of order is maintained by bands of mercenaries hired to see to the security of the mine and all other assets under the control of the mine stakeholders, including the Inn, the Blacksmith and the Armory. Their methods are brutal, however; those deemed guilty often killed outright. There is currently no sheriff or jail in town.

Griffinmoor lays on the fringe of the Empire, the last city along its eastern boundary and about two days march from the sovereign city state of Kallagrim’s Keep. Relations between the cities are tense at best, travelers to and from the Keep often finding themselves waylaid by beggars, con men or highway men spilled out of the desolation that is the imperial city. Leaders of the Empire have paid little heed to the requests of the Guardians that law be brought to the city, in part as some means of keeping a punishing pressure applied to the prosperity of the Keep for their refusal to re-enter the Imperial fold. Little direct trade goes on between the two cities, save for the trading of goods for gold that takes place between the wealthy of the city that remain, and the tradesmen for which the Keep is renown. The city could, in most respects, be deemed simply ‘The City the Empire Forgot’

http://www.wallpaperpimper.com/wallpaper/Games/Final_Fantasy_XI/Final-Fantasy-XI-45-IPHI29BT4M-1024x768.jpg

[Arien]

Following the Telavarian ridge west from Kallagrim's Impass will eventually lead to Xanavon, a great canyon carved out between two high cliffsides. After a fatal fall over the edge the cliff, one would find themselves swallowed by the currents of the strong river which flows between the two-hundred foot-high ridges, and carried towards the Great Lake some few hundred miles to the south. Rising from the cliffs on either side of the canyon are two great towers, connected by a large bridge crossing the canyon. The foundations of each tower are strong and wide, but as one climbs higher the outpost becomes more and more dilapidated. Neither ceiling is whole, having crumbled in years long past, and broken staircases leave the top most floors inaccessible. The outpost is still intact enough to serve its Imperial purpose however; overlooking the Telavarian ridge and allowing the Human Empire early warning against oncoming Orc hordes.

The origins of the towers are unknown, but they are believed to be dated back to the formation of the first plains Empire led by the Dragon Vatticus. The flawless craftsmanship, and the fact that the towers still stand, suggests they are of Dwarven make, and some historians theorize that the Dwarves, ironically, used it to overlook the plains Empire and give the then united Dwarf kingdom early warning should the Tyrant's armies ever march on the Telavarian ridge. Following the fall of the Tyrant and the rise of the Human Emperor Lucien, the Dwarves may have deemed it safe to abandon the outpost, but it is more likely that Xanavon was sold to the Empire with the promise of security.

The stronghold's lone claim to fame is the Battle of Xanavon, the eleven-day-long siege where the allied armies of Miritonia were able to defend the towers from the forces of Xathor the Destroyer, giving the Dwarves time to converge on the Telavarian ridge and mount an effective resistance against what otherwise would have been their certain doom. It was during this siege that the towers suffered irreparable damage, and though their current state suggests some spirited attempt at restoration, Xanavon will forever suffer the scars of that great conflict.

Since the Guardian occupation of Kallagrim's Keep, Xanavon has been an Imperial responsibility. A regiment of militia remains constantly stationed at the outpost, ready to defend the ruins to the last man. The great bridge is rigged with Dwarvern black powder casks, ready to blow the only crossingthrough Xanavon sky-high and hinder the progress of any invading enemy. Attached to the casks are a number of bright flares which would surely catch the eye of any of the nearby Imperial settlements to the west, even those on the towers surrounding the Imperial Capital would discern the bright burst of light so far away. 

Over the last month or so, Xanavon has been silent. An unusual circumstance that has reached the attentions of the Guardians at Kallagrim's Keep, who will likely meet to ponder their role in the outpost's near future should trouble of some sort be discovered afoot.

[Arien]