Random Savage Age Stuff

[Ghostman]

The Winter King

In the cold, frigid northern lands of Kamara, where boreal lights bewitch nocturnal skies with the eerie beauty of their myriad colors, where savage tribes still hunt the mammoth and strange beasts lurk in the untrodden vastness of primeval forests, there reigns on his throne of wrought iron a tyrant most terrible. Known only as the Winter King, for his real name is affrightedly left unuttered by any who might still remember it, the exact nature of His Dread Majesty is shrouded in mystery. In grisly tales whispered by the camp-fire he is varyingly hinted at being an Immortal, a devil, a ghost or a spawn of a blasphemous union between Man and beast. The ignorant folk of more southerly latitudes dismiss him as a tall tale spun by superstitious barbarians, but better is known by all the northern peoples whose grim fate it is to live in the shadow of the Winter King.

The Winter King's realm is a dismal, fabled place known mostly through legend and hearsay. In living memory none have ventured there and returned. Outsiders only learn of the Winter King's power through the infernal envoys he sends forth to extract tribute from peoples within his reach, and through the dreaded hosts of wicked sub-humans and equally wicked Men he sends forth to raid and punish those who have failed to pay him due respects. His seat of power, so it is said, is an inaccessible mountain fortress rising to enormous heights, hidden deep in a land of eternal winter.

His might in the way of war is most notorious, as are the occult powers he commands. Reputedly, he can control weather, unleashing terrible storms and blizzards upon his enemies. Ice-devils and other northern spirits are said to answer his calls, and the artefact known as the Cauldron of the North is carried at the van of his armies. The Winter King is famed for making war during any season save summer: neither the perils of coldness, snow and long nights, nor the lack of available forage seem to hamper the march of his minions.

The Cauldron of the North

This is a mighty artefact of unspeakable antiquity. It is a huge black iron cauldron, two metres wide at the brim and balanced on three great legs, one of which terminates in the likeness of a bear's paw, another in the likeness of an elk's cloven hoof, and the third in the likeness of an owl's taloned foot. Strange chiselled runes encircle the side of the cauldron.

The cauldron is a powerful instrument of black magic. It is capable to feed an entire army with an inexhaustible supply of bitter porridge, which reinforces one against the chilling touch of winter, and grants the strength and endurance to march tirelessly across leagues of snow-covered terrain. It's powers can only be activated during winter.

In addition to the ability to feed any number of Men, the Cauldron of the North is capable to spit out Spectres, the souls of it's consumed victims twisted into malevolent apparitions. The spectres will attack the foes of the cauldron's master and inflict them with madness and terror. It can also be used for divination and the brewing of deadly poisons.

For it's powers to remain strong, the artefact's unwholesome hunger must be frequently sated by human sacrifice. First, blood must be dripped into the fire beneath the cauldron; this causes it to awaken and transforms it's mouth into a grotesque maw full of cutting teeth and many flailing black tongues. Then the sacrificial victim is thrown into the open maw, to be consumed by the cauldron. Once satisfied, the cauldron reverts it's transformation.

The Imperium

The Imperium is a mysterious ornamental staff that fell down from the sky. It is a symbol of supreme earthy authority and the object which validates the succession of Argyrian Emperors. Although made from pure gold, the staff is light to carry. It is topped by a decorative pair of raised wings, and a golden serpent is coiled around it's shaft. The item is completely indestructible.

The only people able to carry the Imperium are those who have the blood of the Imperial Argyrian dynasty coursing in their veins. If anyone else touches the staff, the serpent will become alive and bite him. All those so bitten are turned to stone. Anyone who holds the Imperium is considered the legitimate Argyrian Emperor, regardless of their standing within (or without) the Imperial family. There have been cases through history where unrecognized bastard sons have managed to become Emperors, their claim to the throne confirmed by the Imperium. It is currently unknown whether or not the staff would accept a female member of the dynasty, simply because this has never been tested.

The Imperium also has the power to awaken the Titans, the 1000 bronze statues that stand by the sides of a grand square in the capital city.

[ooc]I based the Imperium's design on two real symbols of antiquity: the Rod of Asclepius and the Caduceus.[/ooc]

[LordVreeg]

I like the feel, very mythic.  

A few questions.

How do Lamia procreate here?  How common are they?  Average age?  Social grouping?

The Ghuls sound great, but you left out their natural or favored form, though I know they shapeshift.  I'm trying to visualize them in pack format...

Are their any orders of knighthood, or just servants of the nobility?

Loved the Household Daemones.  How common are they?  Do they stay with a domicile or a household, if people move?

[Ghostman]

How do Lamia procreate here?  How common are they?  Average age?  Social grouping?

They can procreate with mortal humanoids and with various other spirits, but the offspring will always be full-blooded Lamiae. Every Lamia is hatched from an egg, which they lay only rarely. Young Lamiae are always in serpentine form and spend most of their youth in the Spirit Realm. They gain their shapechanging abilities as they mature.

Average age isn't known, and it's entirely possible that potential lifespan might vary greatly between individual Lamiae. They tend to not form groups with each other, but some prefer to surround themselves with a "family" of lesser spirits and mortals. They are very uncommon.

The Ghuls sound great, but you left out their natural or favored form, though I know they shapeshift.  I'm trying to visualize them in pack format...

I'm not sure if I should give them any "natural" form. A pack would prefer to imitate what ever form it's leader has taken, except when they have a reason to appear in different shapes. Their forms are always slightly inperfect, giving subtle clues that might reveal the masquerade. The most telltale sign would be the stench of rotten corpses, especially in their breath.

Are their any orders of knighthood, or just servants of the nobility?

There are no knightly orders. Important religious leaders may have dedicated companies of knights at their disposal, but these function in much the same way as knights under the banner of a nobleman.

Loved the Household Daemones.  How common are they?  Do they stay with a domicile or a household, if people move?

They stay in the house, as that is what they are attached to. The first thing that new inhabitants moving in will do, is reconcile with the resident Daemon. If a house is abandoned, it's spirit can linger on for ages, only leaving when barely any structures are left standing.

[Ghostman]

The Lost History of Brond

Brond was once dominated by a tribe known as the Atalans. In times now immemorial they rose to prominence through their discovery of potent sorcery, powered by the enigmatic Heartstone which plummeted down from the heavens bathed in enchanted fire. Bolstered by this gift from the gods, the Atalans embarked on a conquest to take their rightful place as the overlords of all peoples from one edge of the world to the other. They built a towering city - the glorious Atal - as their capital, and erected innumerable stone circles of immense proportions all across the lands. At the height of their power, every tribe acknowledged the supremacy of Atal; every warlord bowed his head low before the authority of it's Sorcerer-Kings.

[note]Though the Atalans were powerful, and in many ways more advanced than the present-day Brondic peoples, they were nevertheless a fairly primitive tribal society. In those days, there were no cities at all in Brond other than Atal, and while the Sorcerer-Kings extended their domination far, they also ignored large tracts of land that didn't interest them. Given time, Atal might have developed into a sophisticated civilization, but it's end came too soon for that.[/note]All of that is now utterly forgotten. No Man alive remembers the wealth and splendour of the Sorcerer-Kings, no mortal soul recalls the age of wonders anymore. Majestic monuments which once stood proudly, now crumble piece by piece amidst overgrown wilderness. Even the very name Atal is unrecognized by all save the most learned of sages, and even they know not to what it really refers. Indeed, the peoples of Brond do not wonder what befell Atal; so ignorant they have become of it's very existence. When they gaze upon those ruins which were left to stand as reminders of the past, they point their fingers in amazement and proclaim: "Surely these must be the work of giants or devils! Mere Men couldn't possibly build something that large and magnificent!" And so they go about their simple, hard lives, unaware of the history of their homelands, fearful of the nameless derelicts that linger on silently in abandoned valleys and ravines.

The Stone Circles

The land of Brond is riddled with ancient Atalan ruins, scattered about and mostly lost to wilderness. By far the most imposing of these are the stone circles, built from massive boulders arranged like pillars to enclose a circular court, with a flat hewn stone block in the center.

Unknown to the Brondic peoples, these colossal structures were once erected by the order of Sorcerer-Kings of Atal; they were placed on carefully picked locations based on extensive knowledge of ley lines and the pathways of celestial objects. The purpose of the circles was to form nodes in an extensive network of enchanted sites, designed to gather and concentrate power on the central hub of the system - the Heartstone kept in the cyclopean citadel of Atal. In addition to powering the Heartstone, these nodes could act as relays through which the Sorcerer-Kings could direct their miracles, enabling them to project their influence across great distances. Since the destruction of Atal, this system has been broken and mostly dead. Even so, many stone circles are still active, possessed of lingering occult powers, and unexplainable things are said to happen near them. Most Brondic people shun these sites, believing them to be cursed.

The Doom of Atal

It was the folly of the Sorcerer-Kings to abandon caution and discretion as they sought ever more power. Blinded by their ambition and belief in their own infallibility, they tainted the Heartstone with corruptive magics. Slowly and gradually it begun to malfunction, drawing excess power through the network of stone circles. As it did so, it became increasingly difficult to control. The Sorcerer-Kings were alerted to this danger far too late, and were powerless to stop the process. Eventually, the Heartstone became critically charged - and disintegrated.

[note]The basic idea was for this event to be kind of a fantasy Chernobyl incident of epic proportions: something so devastating that not only could it erase a people, but actually erase the very memory of them. And it was to leave a terrible legacy that would haunt future generations for centuries to come...[/note]The immediate consequences of this disaster were extremely destructive. They were felt over vast tracts of land: all around the citadel of Atal and around each stone circle. The very earth trembled as if under the spasms of a painful illness; gaping fissures opened on the ground, swallowing people into the fiery hells beneath. The waters of lakes and rivers turned to venom, springs bubbled infernally with boiling heat, and violent whirlwinds swept forth, carrying a putrid stench. The heavens above were tainted with unwholesome vapours, as an enormous swirling vortex formed over the citadel, unleashing diabolic shapes that danced wildly to the tune of otherworldly rhythms emanating from the depthless void. Ash and blood rained in torrents down from the darkened sky and colossal bolts of lightning arced across it with deafening thunder. Trees shed their leaves, grasses and flowers withered, wild beasts and livestock were driven to mad stampedes, and Men were reduced to gibbering idiots. The maelstrom of doom expanded rapidly and unstoppably, sweeping forth from the citadel and all the stone circles, laying waste to the countryside. To the ancient tribes of Brond, it was the end of the world.

After the initial wave of destruction had subsided, the survivors were struck by a succession of terrible and unprecedented plagues, which spread like wildfire and reached far beyond the limits of Brond. The unnatural withering of plants had all but wasted the year's crops, and the winter that came was the harshest in living memory. Entire populations were utterly decimated; towns and villages were abandoned, fields were left to be claimed by the twisted forest that swallowed them, ancestral hunting lands were left to the abominable beasts which now haunted them.[note]While Atal is forgotten, some memory of the disaster still lives on. It is a vague and confused recollection though, manifest in myriad different (and contradictory) forms in the folklore and myths of the region.[/note] All societies collapsed, and Man preyed upon Man. As the land begun to slowly recover and heal, hosts of outlanders came from abroad, savage Men with blades of iron, to enslave what was left of the tribes of Brond.

Through that brutal domination, new societies were forged, and the earliest times of the now remembered history of Brond were beginning...

The Haunted Lands

The legacy of the Atalan disaster lingers on. Even today, regions such as Galarain and the Golden Kingdoms have not truly recovered from it, though their inhabitants are almost completely ignorant of the lands' history beyond a few centuries. The area closest to Atal is now a blighted waste known as the Haunted Lands, though no proper border for it exists. It is a hellish nightmare realm where the tainted powers that unmade Atal continue to hold sway. The whole area is plagued with rampant disease and pestilence. Plants and animals are twisted to odd, abominable forms which become more and more unwholesome the closer to the ruined city one ventures. The sky is covered in a mass of unnatural cloud of dull gray, becoming gradually darker toward Atal, where it swirls around the cyclopean tower of the citadel in a wild maelstorm. The rivers and lakes are filled with sickly, murky water that does not cast a reflection. The wilderness is ranged by terrible monsters that hunger for more than merely the flesh of their victims, and travelers find themselves troubled by strange noises and lights, stalking phantoms at the corners of their eyes which disappear as soon as attention is directed at them. Ghosts, devils, strange abominations, indescribable horrors, dark magicians and other such menaces are said to be attracted to (or spawned from) the Haunted Lands. The ruins of Atal itself are haunted by the most sinister and ferocious ones of them all.

Tainted, too, are the people who inhabit the area. There are countless little hamlets and villages in the Haunted Lands which no one has ever attempted to chart. These places are isolated backwaters in poor condition, often little better than ghost towns. They are made up of old and crumbling buildings, surrounded by unkempt fields and dark forests that creep ever closer. The people are degenerate inbreds, unwelcoming and wary of strangers. They often display a variety of disturbing ailments and mutations. Stories in the peripheral lands hint at even more unsettling things; children that are born as misshapen monstrosities and locked in cellars where sunlight never reaches, or given as offerings to sinister beings that lurk by night in the moonlit glades of this tortured land.

Besides illnesses of the flesh, it is known that sanity is sorely lacking amongst the inhabitants. Rambling madmen and village idiots are common sights. Moreover, the entire population seems to exhibit if not quite insanity, at least an odd and disturbing mentality. As with all things in the Haunted Lands, the vices of the human population begin as barely noticable in the ill-defined frontier that fails to mark it's beginning, becoming gradually more pronounced toward the center. The population itself becomes increasingly sparse as the ruins of Atal draw near. At some point, one ceases to see even the tiniest of villages, as the land becomes an untamed wilderness home only to wild beasts and the occasional crazy hermit.

Most outsiders think of this land as wholly lawless and void of political organization. This is not quite so: the outer reaches of the Haunted Lands are home to a number of noble lords - or at least, people who fashion themselves as such - in addition to the peasantry. Many of these self-appointed lords are little more than bandit princes and exiled knights with petty ambitions. They live in their small, vulgar "castles" and extract harsh taxes from the surrounding homesteads. Many are given to unspeakable habits of cruelty. Such overlords are more often than not the only protection the peasants have against brigands, rival nobles and worse, unmentionable things that lurk in the wilderness. Even men of noble pretensions are not safe from the influences: insanity and ills of the flesh are found among them, often to the discomfort (or peril) of such poor travelers who end up seeking shelter in some dark manor.

By far the most fear-inspiring thing about the Haunted Lands is that the vile influence it bears on it's inhabitants seems to be contageous. All those who enter this land are in risk of being afflicted, and that risk becomes greater the longer one stays and the deeper within one ventures. There is no protection against this contamination, nor a remedy, and leaving the Haunted Lands will at best only slightly ease the symptoms.

[Ghostman]

[ooc]It seems that everyone and their turtle is adding awesome pictures to their posts nowadays, so I'll give it a try too. Now I'm presenting a kingdom, a religion and a supernatural warrior order. Hopefully nothing too cliched. :-p Valaria and the Sibyls could use some more fleshing out, but I'm kind of exhausted for ideas ATM. If you've got any suggestions or inspiration to share, please do![/ooc]

Valaria

Nestled between the jagged peaks of the Charon and Anticharon mountain ranges in northwestern Euria lies the rugged homeland of the Valari people. Chiselled with countless valleys, gorges and ravines, isolated from the outside world by cyclopean ranges punctured by narrow passes, Valaria is a veritable fortress shaped by nature. It is a land of raw, austere beauty. While agriculturally lacking, Valaria has rich deposits of copper, electrum, iron and gold. The bounty yielded by it's mines is legendary, enough so as to rouse greedy foreign warlords to attempt crossing the mountains from time to time.



The Valari are a hardy and reserved people, isolationist by nature and suspicious of strangers, but inclined to honesty and respectfulness once their trust has been earned. Holding a somewhat spartan outlook on things, Valari abhor weaknesses of the flesh and mind, and hold honour as an ideal to be upheld proudly - in face of death, if need be. They are great lovers of wine, which they import and consume in excess quantities. They are divided into tribes, but unified under the overlordship of the Daereid dynasty, which has reigned over Valaria with unrelenting determination for better part of two centuries now.

In ancient times the Valari ruled a mighty empire that dominated much of northern Euria. It's capital was the fabled city of Valarium, now a cursed ruin. Valaria is famed for the Sentinels, a military-religious order of blind warrior-mystics. The native religion of the Valari is the Cult of the Snake-Goddess.

[ooc]It's a mountain land, inspired by the Caucasus and the Balkans. It's supposed to conjure an impressive, even menacing athmosphere, but steering away from the typical "gothic" look.[/ooc]

Cult of the Snake-Goddess

The religion of the Valari is a strange blend of animism and monotheism: On the one hand, all earthly things are believed to be possessed of an animating spirit. On the other, they admit that all existence springs from a singular, ultimate divinity manifest in the form of the Snake-Goddess. The goddess, being both a Creator and a Destroyer, gives life and also takes it back. All souls are spawned from the womb of the Snake-Goddess, and into the womb they must return.

The fate is organized as a mystery cult, treating knowledge of divine matters as secrets to be hidden from laymen, revealed only to the members of the inner circles. Only women are eligible to be initiated in the deepest secrets, thus they alone make up the priesthood. These oracle-priestesses are referred to as Sibyls, and enjoy high station within Valari society. They allegedly possess talents for divinatory sorcery, in the manner of other Eurian oracles. A different circle of mysteries is open to men, leading them down the path of becoming Sentinels, blind warrior-mystics sworn to defend the faith and guard it's secrets from outsiders.



The multitude of the common faithful, though not privy to the mysteries, nevertheless partake in the cult by making offerings by the idols of the Snake-Goddess, found within temples and upon public squares throughout Valaria, and within the cult enclaves in foreign cities. Under the instructions of the Sibyls they must observe a myriad strange rites and ceremonies, performed when the stars are right. The most important of these ceremonies is the Long March, held every four years at midsummer. Great throngs of worshipers gather in the temple-city of Ascaria where they purify themselves with sacred water streaming from the blessed fountain which stands before the marble-hewn facade of the Supreme Temple. At the signal given by the Sibyls, they form into a grand procession which then carries on a three days' journey, arriving at last to the great idol of the Snake-Goddess, erected on the sacred Tarcessian Hill. Upon this utmost sanctuary the pilgrimage culminates in communal prayer and sacrifice.

[ooc]I admit I'm a sucker for ancient Mediterranean influences. The Snake-Goddess was inspired by these sculptures from Minoan Crete. The big procession thing was inspired by the Elysian mysteries.[/ooc]

Sentinels

The Sentinels are a famed order of Valari warrior-mystics. They ritualistically blind themselves; gouging their eyes out, they sacrifice their vision in order to awaken mystical senses beyond the ken of ordinary people. These abilities of precognition and eyeless sight, once mastered, combine with their rigorous martial training to produce some of the most formidable warriors to walk beneath the Suns.



The order of the Sentinels was originally founded as temple-guardians for the Cult of the Snake-Goddess. Their task was to protect the temples and shrines - and the famed treasuries of these - from thieves and desecrators. This is still one of their duties, but the order has throughout centuries expanded and taken up other roles. Many Sentinels now act as the personal guards to major Valari noblemen, partake in wars to defend their homeland, escort the Sybils where ever they travel, and perform missions assigned to them by the order. Amongst the Valari they are regarded as holy men, treated with much reverence and respect. It is believed that when the last Sentinel falls, Valaria itself will be no more.

The process of becoming a Sentinel is lengthy, secretive, and not always successful. Warriors-to-be are sent to one of the fighting schools hosted by major temples while still in boyhood. They are then put through several years of brutally tough training, knowing no world but that within the walls of the fighting school. On the brink of adulthood they must face a number of tests, and the best few of them are selected as Sentinel candidates. These candidates are initiated in the mysteries that prepare them for the trials ahead, while the rest of the trainees become ordinary (though remarkably well trained) warriors either in service of the order, or join a mercenary company.

Despite best efforts to ensure that each Sentinel candidate is fully and sufficiently prepared before taking the decisive step, some fail to awaken the esoteric senses. Rendered truly blind till the end of their days, such failures make cautionary examples to aspiring Sentinels.

The Sentinels fight in many ways and with many weapons. Each school has developed it's own unique, traditional combat style, usually emphasizing a particular weapon. Sentinels variously make use of spears, staves, swords, sabres, axes, bows, javelins and flails. They protect themselves with maille hauberks or scale cuirasses, helmets and greaves, and usually carry round or oval shields. Some of them train in mounted combat.

[ooc]Sentinel training is pretty extreme; death probably culls the weakest of each generation. They're supposed to be a bit Spartan-like in that aspect. Anyway, I wanted to create a warrior 'class' that has some supernatural powers, but I wanted to keep it subtle. Nothing over the top like flinging lightning bolts.[/ooc]

[Elemental_Elf]

I really love Valaria, it sounds like a great place to visit!

 A few questions:

What kind of population are we looking at? The whole area has a Greco-Mordor feel to it and with its tribal nature, I can't see there being a massive population... However I could be wrong.

How many people go on the Long March? Do people just leave their farms and head out on this March? What is sacrificed at the end of the March?

[Ghostman]

Thanks for the reply E_E! :)

What kind of population are we looking at? The whole area has a Greco-Mordor feel to it and with its tribal nature, I can't see there being a massive population... However I could be wrong.

The whole of northwestern Euria is pretty rustic and mottled with patches of untouched wilderness. Valaria also has rocky hills and mountains a plenty, so it's obviously not very densely populated. They do have some cities though. The temple-city of Ascaria is bustling, as is the yet unnamed capital. Each tribe rules it's own territory from a fortified settlement. The old tribal identity is slowly fading though, as the iron gripped rule of king Daereus is calming the fires of tribal feuds.

How many people go on the Long March? Do people just leave their farms and head out on this March? What is sacrificed at the end of the March?

It is thought proper that all Valari (other than slaves) partake in this pilgrimage at least once throughout their lives, though many are those who go as often as they can. Rural communities usually have arrangements where their members take turns traveling to the temple city, so that the farms are not left untended.

Sacrificial offerings are mostly domestic animals such as ducks, geese, pigs, lambs and goats. Wealthy nobles sacrifice bulls or exotic beasts. The sacrifice is mostly communal, so that an entire family or clan can present a single animal as an offering on behalf of all it's members - including those who are not actually present. The flesh of these animals is cooked or roasted and eaten in a grand feast after the ceremonies.

[Elemental_Elf]

Thanks for responding to my question, Ghostman! :)

One more quick question: (if this bugs you I can stop  :D )

This Grand Feast that ends the day's festivities, who gets to eat what? I can imagine the Nobles would be dissatisfied if they brought a bull and were given a plate of pork. I'm equally sure a peasant group who brought a Pig would be delighted to feast upon the flesh of a roasted Bull... So how does the process of decided who gets what decided, and by who? Further, does the clergy take a percentage of the sacrifices, as a fee for their services?

[Ghostman]

Oh I'm not feeling bugged at all. I find these questions very useful since they direct my attention to details that I hadn't thought about :)

The pilgrims eat at least a chunk of their own offerings. Those who have made a generous sacrifice tend to share much of it with others. There is a kind of an informal pecking order at work, as the people higher up the social ladder are allowed first picks of leftovers. In general, all sharing is conducted in a friendly athmosphere, as it would be ill mannered (and, it is believed, invoking bad luck) to bicker over sacred meat in such a holy place. Any meat that isn't consumed by the pilgrims goes to the Cult's priesthood.

[Elemental_Elf]

Oh I'm not feeling bugged at all. I find these questions very useful since they direct my attention to details that I hadn't thought about :)

The pilgrims eat at least a chunk of their own offerings. Those who have made a generous sacrifice tend to share much of it with others. There is a kind of an informal pecking order at work, as the people higher up the social ladder are allowed first picks of leftovers. In general, all sharing is conducted in a friendly athmosphere, as it would be ill mannered (and, it is believed, invoking bad luck) to bicker over sacred meat in such a holy place. Any meat that isn't consumed by the pilgrims goes to the Cult's priesthood.

Ah, much more civil than I feared! :)

Quick question on the Imperium, how is it stored? Does the Emperor just walk around with it, and even sleep with it? If a small Argyrian boy touches the staff while it is in the hands of the (living) Emperor, does the boy become co-Emperor or does the rule only apply when the current Emperor dies? What about if the current Emperor is slain at the hands of a rival, who then picks the staff up and claims to be emperor, would he be allowed to ascend?

[Ghostman]

Quick question on the Imperium, how is it stored? Does the Emperor just walk around with it, and even sleep with it?

The item can be safely handled by anyone when fully wrapped in cloth, but touching it in that manner doesn't bear any influence on anyone's claims to the throne. The Emperor always keeps the staff nearby, even when he's not actually holding it. Imperial bodyguards protect not only the Emperor, but also the Imperium, pretty much around the clock.

If a small Argyrian boy touches the staff while it is in the hands of the (living) Emperor, does the boy become co-Emperor

That would be a very unusual (and extremely unlikely) event to take place. No one really knows what would happen, but it's likely that the boy would be bitten (unless he's close enough a relative). There has never been anything like a co-Emperor in recorded history.

What about if the current Emperor is slain at the hands of a rival, who then picks the staff up and claims to be emperor, would he be allowed to ascend?

In the eyes of law he would be the new Emperor. The Imperial family is rather large though, and there would be many within it who would see this as an opportunity to try and garner support for a coup. And there would be others who would seek to cut his reign short by more subtle methods. Such is the nature of Argyrian politics; that no Emperor can hope to survive long without loyal swordsmen and poison-tasters by his side :ninja:

[Wensleydale]

Can Knights rise into the nobility? Is there much movement between social classes? What kind of person would likely become a squire?

Loving the daemones. Are they present in houses outside Euria? Say if a Eurian family moved elsewhere, would a daemon come with them? If an old daemon is exorcised and a new one brought in, but the old one stays around and tries to attack the house, what would happen? Would the two fight, or...?

[Ghostman]

Greetings Wensleydale

The exact mechanics of Brondic societies may vary a bit, but generally it's difficult to change one's standing - from lower to higher, anyway. To become a noble, one would need to possess a good amount of land (and probably cattle, too) and gain the recognition of other nobles or a monarch. Knights are certainly in better position to achieve this than most other freemen, as they have opportunities to earn spoils and glory in wars.

The typical squire is a son of a well-to-do freeman - likely himself a knight or some other kind of warrior. He owns at least some basic equipment (probably a simple helmet, shield and sword given by his father) and is sent to serve as a squire for a knight. He should be a young man in good health, ambitious and brave. Though becoming a knight might not be his own choise, it is a career that society would encourage/pressure him to pursue.

The internal borders of the Spirit Realm are hazy, so spirits (such as Daemones) can be found outside their "native" regions, though in lesser numbers - and they generally become wholly absent once you get far enough away from those lands. The Household Daemones do not follow people though, as their attachment is to places. It's certainly possible that two Daemones start fighting over a house (the one residing in it would want to protect it), though this would be a truly rare event. To mortals getting caught in the middle of the fight it would probably seem like a haunting. Barring interventions, the stronger spirit would eventually overpower the weaker one and drive it away or even destroy it.

[Elemental_Elf]

The item can be safely handled by anyone when fully wrapped in cloth, but touching it in that manner doesn't bear any influence on anyone's claims to the throne. The Emperor always keeps the staff nearby, even when he's not actually holding it. Imperial bodyguards protect not only the Emperor, but also the Imperium, pretty much around the clock.

I presume this cloth is made from the first materials known to the Empire?

That would be a very unusual (and extremely unlikely) event to take place. No one really knows what would happen, but it's likely that the boy would be bitten (unless he's close enough a relative). There has never been anything like a co-Emperor in recorded history.

Hmm an ambivalent answer, I like it! However, given your answer to my third question, there's little doubt that a co-Emperor would not be long for this world... :ninja:

In the eyes of law he would be the new Emperor. The Imperial family is rather large though, and there would be many within it who would see this as an opportunity to try and garner support for a coup. And there would be others who would seek to cut his reign short by more subtle methods. Such is the nature of Argyrian politics; that no Emperor can hope to survive long without loyal swordsmen and poison-tasters by his side :ninja:

I love it! Absolutely byzantine and absolutely cool! So are there different palace/court factions? Nothing formal but perhaps one or two allied houses that oppose the expansion of another alliance of a few houses, and vice versa? Like how the Duke of Suffolk and his allies opposed Cromwell and the Boleyns during the reign Henry VII of England?  

[Ghostman]

I presume this cloth is made from the first materials known to the Empire?

Uh, not sure what you mean here. Just about any piece of cloth would suffice, so long as it's large enough to cover the staff whole. Of corse there is an "official" cloth for times when the Imperium needs to be handled by someone other than the Emperor (which is always one of the Imperial guards), a square-shaped sheet made from silk and finely embroidered.

I love it! Absolutely byzantine and absolutely cool! So are there different palace/court factions? Nothing formal but perhaps one or two allied houses that oppose the expansion of another alliance of a few houses, and vice versa?

Byzantine politics is definitely my goal here. I have to admit though, that I have not yet figured things out enough to give you a detailed answer.

What I can tell so far, is that there are many powerful noble houses which have always tried to meddle with Imperial succession. Instead of passing the throne to the eldest son, the Emperor has the right to name his heir from amongst his family - it is almost always one of his sons, but he also could choose a brother or a more distant relative (it is not a written law but a tradition that the heirs be male, so an Emperess is theoretically possible, though unlikely). The nobles will of corse have differing views on who would make the best heir, and they will promote their favorite candidate as aggressively as they dare.

Moreover, the Imperial lineage is so spread out that it is divided into several branches. A new Emperor could potentially arise from any of these, and historically different branches have held the throne through some periods of time, only to lose it to another. So they are effectively dynasties. The branches tend to entertain close relations with particular groups of nobility, forming close ties via business and marital arrangements. Such ties ensure the support of powerful allies if a prominent member of the branch finds an opportunity to make claims on the throne.

It goes without saying that since the interests of the noble factions clash, they tend to expend much effort undermining each other's schemes.