About Xanthoria

  We didn't always live in Xanthoria. Decades ago, when the grandparents of our elders were the warriors, acolytes and apprentices, our ancestors lived the Old World. Now our elders, sitting in the corners of the tavern or shivering in the corners of their steadings tell tales the tales they heard as younglings; of the wonders that could be found there but their tales inevitably turn dark as they remember what they heard of the Skulde. No two stories are quite the same, some say they were invaders, some that they were rebels who arose from within. Most say they were human but a few maintain they were other, elder races or horrors. There are those who claim they were punishment, sent by the gods to smite humans for their hubris or a magical accident gone wrong. We believe these stories because there are those who still walk among us that that carry the mark of the Skulde.

Xanthoria is a harsh, hard land, but in most ways it is like the Old World. Most, but not all. The most immediately obvious of those differences is the Iron Pillars. They are usually found on prominent headlands throughout the country, although they can appear anywhere, and are completely smooth, completely impervious. There is a tradition of priesthood, the Iron Priests, who have risen up around them and who bear witness to our most important vows. Most people consider stumbling upon an Iron Pillar in an unknown place a portent of great change, and make a warding sign, or mutter a prayer, hoping against hope that the change will be for the better.

When we arrived in Xanthoria, desperate to escape, we found the Elder Races of legend, the Firstborn, had fled here before us. But before even the Firstborn, there was an even more ancient people. Ruins are peppered across the lands. Some, near the oldest settlements are considered largely safe, now, but most are filled with traps and considered haunted and full of dangers.

Although life in Xanthoria is tough, we are tougher. In the area around where we first landed we have a zone called The Havens. This comprises several larger settlements with roads running between them and regular trade routes. However, the further you go away from The Havens, the rougher things get. There is a zone where you have mid-sized settlements, mostly striving to grow and become stable enough to become part of The Havens, then smaller and smaller circles, some barely more than three huts and a family or two. Even further out you have nomad clans who follow the herds that they hunt. Our merry band will begin in a mid-sized Circle, Fallax, a town striving to become a Haven, but not sufficiently stable that it is certain it will make it. 

The style of leadership across Xanthoria is as varied as the type of settlement. Fallax has an overseer, appointed for seven years, who wears an iron crown. In common with most overseers, ours is appointed for a seven year term which can be extended if the people and the overseer both wish to continue. In other places they have something approaching a nobility, with powerful families and the leader of the most powerful being the de facto ruler. In others there are elected councils and the councils elect a mayor. In others petty chieftains squabble for power. In the smallest circles, the head of the family is in charge.

In all but the most far-flung places, we have Wardens. They function as soldiers, guards and militia. Their writ runs throughout the land but the smallest circles and nomad tribes probably never actually see one. Most are tied to the community of their birth, they keep the peace, patrol the lands around it, have families, and are the first line of defence. 

As mentioned above, Xanthoria is not quite like the Old World. Although some of the Elders claim that the Skulde are a punishment from the Gods or from magic run awry, most agree that their grandparents told them that magic was practised by charlatans on the gullible. Here it is rare and dangerous, but none can doubt it works and it is truly powerful. Likewise people honour the Gods, and most believe that the Gods listen and reply. There a sceptics and doubters, far fewer miracle workers than magicians, but there are certainly those who have felt the touch of a god in their lives.

Continuing in that theme, we are not alone. The firstborn remain here. Elves, dwarves and more populate the remotest places of the land. Mostly they live in fierce isolation but they are rumoured to don disguises and pass among us from time to time. Monstrous beasts live in the wildest areas and in the deepest, darkest forests, the darkest, deepest lakes and rivers truly horrific monsters can be found.