Province of Peldara

History of Peldara

Long ago, before the kingdoms of today bore their names, before the sundering, there was the Eaepeldar Empire .

Eaepeldar rose from the fertile plains and gentle rivers of the land that would one day be called Peldara, a place so abundant with grain, fruit, and timber that the ancients named it the Garden of the Gods. Here, the Eaepeldar Emperors carved out dominion, and from here their roads, laws, and armies spread until the empire's shadow touched every horizon.

For millennia, Eaepeldar stood as a beacon of order. Its temples blazed with sacred fire, its markets bustled with goods from far-off lands, and its scholars bound magic to stone and bronze. In those days, Peldara was not merely a kingdom, it was the heart of the world, and all others bent knee or paid tribute to its throne. The Voioshan Empire rivaled it, Eryndor sought to outmatch it, and the sea-kings of distant isles vied for its favor, but none could truly eclipse Eaepeldar.

Yet greatness is never eternal. As the ages passed, cracks formed in the foundations of empire. Wars with Voiosha drained its strength, and famine stalked the plains when trade faltered. The smaller states, Bal`Lordorron, Terren, even Kos and Turzel, once bound by treaties of loyalty, grew bold and defiant. The enemies of Eaepeldar circled like wolves, and at last the empire that had endured ten thousand years began to splinter.

From its ashes rose a broken patchwork of city-states, each claiming the mantle of the old ways but none able to command the loyalty of all. It was an age of chaos and ambition, when noble houses schemed, warlords carved domains from the bones of provinces, and priests quarreled over which gods still held dominion. The land bled, yet it endured, for Peldara has always been too rich, too fertile, to ever fall into true ruin. Its rivers still flowed, its fields still yielded harvest, and so men fought ceaselessly for the right to rule them.

In time, amidst the wreckage of a thousand failed thrones, a remnant endured, the Peldarian Enclave. It was born not from conquest but from memory, for its lords claimed descent from the Imperial Court itself, guardians of Eaepeldar's legacy. They gathered what fragments remained: laws carved into marble tablets, rituals whispered by aging priests, even the ruins of aqueducts and citadels. With these they wove a tapestry of continuity, saying to the people, "We are still Eaepeldar. We are the thread unbroken."

For centuries the Enclave stood, never as mighty as the empire, yet never broken like the city-states around it. Its banners became a symbol of stability, its priests keepers of the old gods. Slowly, through diplomacy, marriage, and war, the Enclave grew stronger until it was no longer a memory but a kingdom reborn. Thus was forged the Kingdom of Peldara, proud and unyielding, claiming not only its land but the very spirit of the continent's past.

But history has never been kind to Peldara for long. Its nobles bicker and feud as their ancestors once did, and foreign powers, Voiosha reborn as Yeaoshan, the seafaring kingdoms, and the restless isles, eye its wealth with envy. Some say the cycle is unbreakable, that Peldara will always rise, always fall, and always rise again. Others say that this kingdom, forged from both ruin and memory, will be the one to endure where the empire did not.

Thus, the tale of Peldara is one of memory and rebirth, of soil that forgets no seed, of a people who will not surrender their inheritance. The empire is gone, but the kingdom endures, and in the words of its sages.

They call it the Heart of the Continent, and not without reason. Peldara lies cradled between rivers and plains, its fields so wide and fertile that even in times of famine elsewhere, its granaries remain full. To approach its borders is to enter a land where the earth seems endlessly generous: golden waves of wheat, vineyards climbing rolling hills, orchards bursting with fruit. Farmers here boast that the land does not simply feed them, it spoils them.

But Peldara is not only earth and harvest. Its cities gleam with the weight of ages. Marble ruins of Eaepeldar temples stand beside bustling markets, their columns draped with ivy, their stones repurposed into homes and palaces. The people walk among these remnants with pride, for to be Peldaran is to live daily in the shadow of empire, heirs to a glory older than memory itself.

Society

The Peldarans themselves are a proud and restless folk. They prize eloquence as much as valor, for here the tongue is as mighty a weapon as the sword. A noble may duel his rival with steel at dawn and argue his cause in the council chamber by dusk, both acts held in equal esteem. Hospitality is sacred, to turn away a guest is considered a crime against the gods, yet so too is honor, and insults are remembered for generations.

At the kingdom's heart lies the capital, where the King of Peldara sits upon a throne carved from the very marble of Eaepeldar's ruins. His crown gleams not only with gold but with legitimacy, for he rules not merely by inheritance but by the blessing of the High Priesthood. The priests are guardians of the old gods, deities of harvest, justice, war, and wisdom, whose temples remain the pillars of society. To a Peldaran, to worship is not merely ritual; it is the daily proof that the line from empire to kingdom remains unbroken.

Peldara's society is steeped in hierarchy, but it is not without opportunity. The nobility still hold vast estates, lords of villages and valleys, but merchants have carved out their own influence in the great river-markets, their caravans stretching as far as Kos and Yeaoshan. Scholars, too, are highly regarded, for knowledge of law, history, and magic binds the realm together as firmly as any army.

Ah, but the armies of Peldara are no small thing. Born from the discipline of empire, drilled in the arts of both sword and formation, they march in gleaming ranks, though their commanders are often as ambitious as the kings they serve. To ride beneath the banner of Peldara is to carry the weight of centuries, for every soldier is told that he marches in the footsteps of Eaepeldar's legions.

Peldara is not without its shadows. Its nobles feud endlessly, their rivalries older than the kingdom itself. Corruption seeps into its courts; bandits haunt its forests, some claiming descent from fallen houses. And though its people speak of unity, old divisions remain, between noble and common, city and countryside, priest and merchant. Yet despite these flaws, the kingdom endures, as it always has, because the land itself seems to insist upon survival.

To outsiders, Peldara is a land of contradictions: ancient yet thriving, noble yet quarrelsome, devout yet worldly. To its own people, however, there is no contradiction at all. They are heirs to an eternal legacy, guardians of a torch that has burned since the days when Eaepeldar ruled the world.

Races:

• Humans (Dark-skinned Peldarans): The majority population. They are farmers, soldiers, priests, and merchants, deeply tied to the land. Peldarans are considered the archetype of the Enclave's people: eloquent, proud, and devout.
• Dwarves: Living in fortified river-hill towns and within the older Eaepeldar ruins. They provide craftsmanship, masonry, and smithing, especially for temples and military arms.
• Halflings: Thriving in rural river valleys and trading towns. Halflings are trusted merchants, innkeepers, and caravan leaders, often acting as neutral parties between human noble houses.

Religion in Peldara

The Church of Light and Dark

In Peldara, religion is not just faith, it is identity. The Church of Light and Dark holds supreme influence, shaping law, culture, and even war. Every child grows up knowing that the Sacred Cycle, the eternal balance between Light and Dark, life and death, order and chaos, is the heartbeat of the world. To live without honoring both sides is to invite ruin, for Light without Dark stagnates, and Dark without Light consumes.

Temples dominate both countryside and city skylines. In villages, they are modest shrines where farmers leave grain, fruit, or wine to ensure good harvests. In cities, they rise as grand marble sanctuaries, blending Eaepeldar ruins with newer construction, their walls covered in frescoes of gods walking among mortals.

The Pantheon of Light

Worshippers of Light focus on order, protection, fertility, and justice. These gods are beloved by farmers, mothers, and kings.

• Ra, Lord of Light: God of justice, truth, and the sun. His priests are judges and magistrates, keepers of law and ritual purity.
• Isis, the All-Mother: Goddess of magic, healing, and fertility. Her temples are filled with priestesses, healers, and midwives.
• Osiris, the Lawgiver: God of resurrection and the afterlife. His priests preside over burials, embalming, and funerary rites.
• Horus, the Great Sphinx: God of war and divine protection. Soldiers dedicate their blades to him before marching to battle.
• Bennu, the Phoenix: God of rebirth and renewal. His followers focus on cleansing, festivals, and the eternal turning of the Sacred Cycle.

The Pantheon of Darkness

The gods of Darkness are not shunned but respected, for without destruction, nothing can be reborn. They are feared, but their role in the Sacred Cycle is vital. Their temples are quieter, filled with incense and shadows, where priests murmur prayers for safe passage into death.

• Set, Lord of Chaos: God of storms, fire, and upheaval. His priests bless warriors, rebels, and those who seek change.
• Anubis, Guide of Souls: Psychopomp and protector of the dead. His priests wear jackal masks during rites of passing.
• Apepi, the Serpent of Chaos: God of corruption and entropy. His worship is controlled tightly, but offerings are made to keep his wrath at bay.
• Ammit, the Devourer: Judge of the unworthy. Her priests oversee trials of oath-breakers and criminals, their sentences often final and bloody.

Priestly Orders (Himsa & Serks)

The clergy is divided into Himsa of Light and Himsa of Darkness, each with their own hierarchies, but both under the authority of the Caliph.

• Himsa of Light act as healers, protectors, judges, and teachers.
• Himsa of Darkness tend the dead, guide souls, and oversee destruction and renewal rituals.
• Serks are senior priests, advisors to nobles and the Shahanshah, mediating between Light and Dark factions.