Tritania, the Hidden Gem of Nacia

To the south of Vindorium, capital of the Nacian Kingdom, the Tritanian Peninsula thrives with culture and learning unparalleled to any lordship of the realm. Their sigil in the brown rabbit, representing quick wit and a creature common to their many fields and forests, as well as three mountains, to signify strength and fortitude as well as the three-pronged defense surrounding their city. The sun represents the enlightenment and purity of their folk.

Tritania has always been close to the court of their liege lord, often filling the role of steward, marshal, or close advisor, due to their superb education and gregarious nature. Publius, the current lord of Tritania, serves as Lucan’s steward and sees to the day-to-day running of the kingdom, as well as all foreign affairs. A man shrewd as the rabbit of his pendant, Publius is determined to keep Nacia unified in the face of adversity, which now comes from across the sea.

Publius has a host of loyal knights as well, notable amongst them is Sir Andreas of the Lockedwood, a grizzled war veteran both brave and cunning on the field. He saved Tritania and possibly all of Nacia from a southern invasion which landed in his homeland when he was but a lordling without knighthood to his name. The Merchant Princes of Krivich intended to flank around the south of the isle and march directly to Vindorium, choking the capital from the rest of the nation. They came with five thousand lightning fast lancers, to show their navy was mighty enough to support cavalry. This took their army directly through the Lockedwood in Tritania, where Andreas, in command of only five hundred mounted militiamen, seized the day.

Andreas ordered a chain stretching nearly four hundred yards to be secured deep in the Lockedwood. Andreas then took his detachment of cavalry and rushed forward from the woods, charging directly at the Krivich host. The Princes thought him mad, and so, copied the order to charge. In the moment before the horses broke upon each other, Andreas sounded for retreat and led his men back into the forest. The Krivich horsemen gave chase, but soon lost sight of Andreas’ smaller, more versatile army, but nevertheless, they charged forward at a blazing speed.

The Krivich host charged directly into the chain, sending men flying from their horses who shattered like waves upon rocks as they struck the hard steel. Many fled, while others were pursued by Andreas’ army and slain. Andreas forced the complete removal of Krivich forces of the south and was knighted by the king at that time, Cato, taking the sigil of an oak tree with a golden chain locked around its frame.

 

 

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!

Nacian Death Poem

Weep not for the dead

For they are ones who cannot

Weep instead

For the living who still bear this mortal toil

Let rather your prayer to the dead

Be in your actions

In the strain of the hand against the plow

The eye against dim light of candle

The mind in the whirlwind of thought

Let your life be the prayer to the dead

-Poem by Justinian the Younger

This is the first in a new series of poems done to promote the second book I am currently working on, I hope you all enjoy

-Peter

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.

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.

The Black Elk, Zelphie

The ancient enemy to Atruitas, the fallen son of Erastrius, and the worshipper of the Black Elk, The Kingdom of Zelphie is a force to be reckoned with. The second of the kingdoms born from the Great Collapse, Zelphie lived in unity with Atruitas, often fighting alongside one another to repel foreign invaders, but no more. King Rogbert, now nearly ten generations ago, renounced his holy vows to Matuar, God of the Sea, and proclaimed loyalty to the Black Elk, a powerful and ancient being of the Zelphine Forest.

Upon hearing this, neighboring Tanaria took up arms against Zelphie at the behest of Atruitas, to purge the lands of this new cult. Rogbert ordered his men replace the image of Matuar’s trident with the Black Elk’s eyes upon their shields, proclaiming that the forest would soak up the sea. Rogbert met the Tanarians on the field, and won a stunning victory, sending the faithful running.

With this victory, Rogbert purged the land of Matuar’s priests, and tore down their holy sites, erecting new lodges with black antlers upon their altars. Since this time, Zelpie and Atruitas have been locked in a holy war, the Elk against Matuar.

A Toast to Domovoi, God of Hearth and Home

A toast to the guard of the hearth!

A toast to the one that makes his mark

On the fields so ripe

And press so full

A toast to the god of wine!

The little man

So clever and so drunk

With unkempt beard

And locks of gold

Let’s raise our glass to him

So that our glass might always brim!