The Joint-Kingdom of Menidon

“Bonds Stronger Than Blood” The words etched on each minted coin from the Dweor holdfasts of the Menidish Mountains. This phrase rings true in the Joint-Kingdom of Menidon which was forged in a time of war and strife, where the survival of two peoples relief solely on their cooperation.

The Dweor of Baraz and the Men of Aradur had always had good terms with one another; the dwarves provided good steel and a steady supply of gold, while the coastal city of Aradur provided a thriving hub for trade in the region. In the later centuries of the SE, long after the collapse of the Nacian Empire, the ducal lords and merchant republics now ruling that land joined arms and sought to wipe out their main trade competitor, the Dweor of Baraz.

An army of some five thousand marched towards the mountain hold, led by a council of bankers and nobles funding the campaign. Immediately, the progress was halted for the remnants of Nacia; harsh weather in the mountains delayed the advance, and supply trains were poorly managed. This gave the Dweor enough time to send emissaries to Aradur, to beg the council of burgomasters to send aid. The council agreed to shelter the Dweor if Baraz fell, but refused any military support, as the fledgling trade city was garrisoned by a small militia which was rather poorly equipped.

Feeling defeated, the Dweor of Baraz fortified their keep and prepared for the worst. When the dukes and merchants arrived, the Dweor seemed doomed, for they had only two thousand volunteers equipped with generation old gear. By miracle, a single councilman, Tybalt the Brazen, arrived with a host of peasants numbering near ten thousand armed with billhooks and spears. Tybalt had resigned from the council in protest of the lack of aid to Baraz and went through the countryside rallying the common folk to his cause.

At the sight of this huge army, the merchant lords broke off their mercenaries, leaving the duke lords with half their strength for the battle. The Dweor rushed from their battlements and joined Tybalt, swiftly routing the diminished army and winning the day.

In retrospect, Tybalt was dubbed the Brazen for two reasons; first, he would have been imprisoned and tried by his own people for taking so many peasants away from the harvest season, which could have starved the country, second, he led an army of sick, old, young, and even some women. Tybalt’s entire army was a bluff, and the enemy fell for his deception. Even with greater numbers, Tybalt lost nearly a sixth of his army in battle, due to their lackluster equipment.

Tybalt returned to Aradur with his and the Dweor army, and strongarmed his way back into the council, swiftly removing his opponents and replacing them with men loyal to his cause. With the new burgomaster council, Tybalt signed the Treaty of Menidon, which combined the two kingdoms into an elective monarchy, of which he won the vote.

Since then, a council of one hundred, fifty Dweor and fifty Men, have elected their kings for life, always ensuring kings are picked by character and not race, though a bag of coins has been known to persuade some councilors.

The Wolf in the Vineyard, House Vandarian

Dating back centuries, House Vandarian has ruled the Vine Marshes of Nacia since their birthing as a cadet house of the imperial family. Stewards and masters of statecraft, the patriarchs of Vandarian are as powerful and ambitious are they are wealthy.

From their palatial home at Laprisil, wine and gold flow from the port, as well as the roads connecting to the other major cities of the isle.  Once their castle was to the western border, though it sunk into the marsh in a severe storm, trapping and killing near half the living member of the family at that time.

Now their leader, Rollo the Bloodless, makes his way to the capital to meet with the newly appointed king, Lucan. Rollo is wise beyond his years and was treasurer to the king’s father, Cato. Rollo’s visit brings both relief and fear, for the memory of Achea is still fresh in the minds of the common folk and nobility alike. A tale few dare speak…

 

Hadrian I “The Great”

The noblest of any rulers of the world, Hadrian was a warrior like a raving berserker, a poet of silver tongue, a statesman with the golden touch, and above all, the founder of the Nacian Empire.

Born the youngest bastard of the Erastrian king Adémar III, Hadrian was never destined for greatness. His father was a terrible ruler, and the last of his line. Adémar sunk his treasury into grand building projects left half complete and wild parties which lasted weeks on end. After his assassination, the very same noblility who killed him were entrusted with his harem of lovers and children. All were slain, save Hadrian and his mother Dulia, a revered figure in Nacian history. Bribing her way through the kingdom with jewelry given by her dead king, she ensured her son’s survival and exceptional education.

By his sixteenth birthday, the young man had amassed a sizable host of mercenaries and courtiers, all while the Erastrian Kingdom collapsed to ash. Hadrian was a bearded man, though he never had the sizable frame of his father. Of average height and size, Hadrian was no less fierce or brave in battle. Hadrian arrived on the southwest of Yennen, where he conquered the small village of Nacia, and declared himself imperator. Hadrian granted new land rights to noble and commoner alike, securing key support for further conquest of the region. A just man, Hadrian also established a codified law which rivaled the bureaucratic level of his ancestors the Erastrians. He completed great works of architecture in his capital, such as a new aqueduct and a new library some thousands of books full. By his death in the year 66 2E, Hadrian was 75 and left a great number of sons to continue his dynasty, which to this day enjoys the title of king in the new Nacian Kingdom.

This is the first in the series describing each of the Nacian Imperators, let me know what you guys think below in the comments and be sure to subscribe!

Clan Silverscale, Lords of Sea and River

To the eastern coast of Yennen, the barbaric descendants of the ancient Dradanian chiefdoms rule and reave along the shores.  Seafarers and smiths, the Silverscale overwhelm with lightning strikes and superior equipment, as well as ships able to withstand both open ocean and the shallow beds of rivers. Their unique name stems from reports given by their first coastal village victims, who described them as fishmen swimming from the sea bathed in steel. Hence, they are the Silverscale, wrought in protective armor like that of the banner they carry into battle.

Their current lord, Casimir, sets his sights on the last visages of the old kingdoms, waiting like a fatted calfs in the field, unaware of the wolf in the woodland. Ambition guides the young king and he moves to rally his people to conquest. To his north, the Silver Elves of Geladhithel are weak, brought down by years of economic depression and ineffective leadership. To the eastern coast, the rich land of Nacia is but a pond’s length away, the Lion of Nacia now but a tamed cat. If Casimir succeeds in his quest for power, the whole waters of Yennen and the world shall be swarmed by the banner of the three silver fish.

Physical Copies of The Sword to Unite now available!

The soft cover copies of The Sword to Unite are finally available from this link here, be sure to order your copy and leave a review on amazon or any of the other websites linked. This physical version of the book is 462 pages long and includes two maps, one full page, and another spread, as well as three of the coats of arms previously seen on the website. It has been such a tremendously awarding experience to see the book finally for sale, and I hope you all enjoy it!

The Official Map of the Book!

Here it is, the full map of The Sword to Unite. This map uses roughly fourteen separate maps finally combined to show the whole world of Morthwyl, Yennen, and Erastrius. It is my hope I’ll be able to make specific blog posts about different areas of the map, their geography, history, and culture.

On the four corners, the artist has placed the coat of arms of a few of the most important kingdoms and households, including Crawe, Thorne, The Eternal Dawn, and The Nacian Empire.

It has been such an incredible experience to see the change in my ideas for the book and the maps throughout the process of writing the book. It feels like a real accomplishment to finally see it done in such detail and design. This map, as well as the poster, will be available in full resolution in the future. Be sure to leave a comment and like, and don’t forget to subscribe for more content!

 

The Official Poster of the Book!

Check out the new poster for The Sword to Unite. Set in the city of Wulfstan, the capital of Lorine. Seen on the docks are Cedric and Olaf, the captain of the city guard. In the background, Adalgott’s Palace. The stone jutting out of the castle is the rock on which Adalgott prescribed the first codified set of laws in the north. To the sea, the ancient lighthouse of Stormwatch Keep, which has guarded the city against coastal threats for thousands of years.

As an author, it is such an incredible experience to witness a scene I wrote transmuted onto art. During my first posts on WordPress, I never would have imagined I would be able to release my book onto Amazon, it has been such an incredible experience which I’m so glad to have shared with my subscribers! For me, art has always played such an important role in my writing, it’s a bit of an odd confession, but I’ve always had a soft spot for the classic although somewhat cheesy animated style of the original animated version of The Lord of The Rings. Knowing a piece of art, such as film or painting, comes from a passion one has for the literature it originates from has such a huge impact on me.

This has been such an incredible life experience, one which I think has shifted my focus on writing for life, if for the sake of passion. Again, thanks to everyone whose supported the blog, wouldn’t be here without you.

-Peter

 

 

The Lion Of Nacia

Disgraced, exiled, and beaten, the Nacian Empire stands on a final leg. Forced to flee from their homeland of Nacia, the Imperators have ruled an island off the coast of Yennen, a pale substitute for the vast tracks of land they once held dominion over. Barbarian tribes in service to Nacia overthrew their benefactors, who had grown weak and reliant upon foreign arms. The tribes became civilized and proclaimed themselves the Duxdoms, an insult to the heritage and name of the lion.

Though the benefits of empire have faded from the grip of Nacia, the problems cling like a foul disease. The nobility proves ineffective, growing fat in their countryside villas. The people are broken in spirit, and the army lays in disarray. The fleet of Nacia has deserted, meaning no reclamation of the homeland can even be thought of.

The current king, as the title imperator has been lost to time, is a young man named Lucan, second in line to be king, without an empathetic trait or simple charm in his character. His people dub him, Lucan the Unloving, and for good reason.

The Lusani Elves, Dwellers of the Forest

Between Lorine and the rest of the north, the Lusatine forest cuts across the landscape like a knife. The roots of the forest are deep and filled with a rich history of heroes and songs. None dwell there save the Lusani Elves, born and buried in the vast network of vines and branches. Few have seen such folk and even fewer live to tell the tale. A xenophobic people, they protect the forest from those who would harm it.

The Kingdom of Lorine’s powerful merchant guilds once tried to cut a swath through the land, in order to secure timber and a new trade route to the north. The expedition was never to be seen again. For centuries the Lusani have not cared for the politics of the world, but now, as evil once more awakens from slumber, the elves of the forest cannot leave their fate to chance. The drums in the woods begin anew, and the rangers and bowman take up their arms once more. Led by Queen Joanne, a girl rumored to be no older than fourteen yet fierce in her authority, the elves shall stand against the coming tide.

 

Don’t forget to like and subscribe for more content. Coming soon: a fully detailed map of the world of Yennen.

The Golden Court of Evrand

A light, defiant to the shadow around it. The lake city of Evrand has stood as a beacon for the elvish kin since the Age of Glory. Built by the great king Rohiel, it was the vanguard in the war against the demons. Crassus Baal, the deceiver, had clouded the human and elven kingdoms in shadow, and the land fell into civil war. Rohiel cried out to the god Duwel, lord of cloud and sky, and begged for the salvation of his people. Duwel answered, and commanded the Elf King to erect a massive lighthouse at the center isle of Lake Evrand. Rohiel did so, and when he had laid the last stone, Duwel descended in a cloud of flame, and kindled the lighthouse, driving back the darkness that plagued the land.

Since this time, the Golden Court has been a safe haven for the elves, one of the last three kingdoms of the Hlútrian, the proper name of the elves. Duwel’s people are few and far, often selling their wise words or sharp steel, reduced greatly in status from the days of yore. The Golden Court intends to reclaim what was stolen, to once more, be the beacon of light and hope in a dark and hopeless world.