‘My mind is blown. I have lost all cognitive functions.’
-A traumatized Bakaran admiral.
As you can note on the map above, Bakara is situated in a rather precarious position. In the north, you have the barbaric lands of Farbrook, Greneclyf, and the most deranged dwelling of necromancers, the Dread League; directly bordering the Arcturian Order. The Order being regularly exposed to raids from the League, which is readily capable of attaining the Republic’s coast through the aquatic currents of the Icewaters.
While the first two entities (if referring to the desperate and loosely united Farbrook is a correct to be regrouped as one) may be rather reasoned with or more easily quashed in their attempts at raiding the shores of the Republic, and the Order posturing as a neutral party in the northern political scene. The Dread League, however, would offer a more substantial challenge and less sane diplomats by a fair margin.
During the past millennium, Bakara had been the recipient of a near-permanent series of raids perpetrated by the foul sorcerers of the League intended to get hold of – as some of their ilk would like to state – “willing subjects for experimentation and scientific and medical progress”. Bakara was not the sole coast the League would use to raid, but the currents leading directly south were more pliable to their sail-powered embarkations. Additionally, Farbrook’s population was less heavily clustered and more inland to act as a predominant breadbasket, and the Changelings diverging biology rendered experimentation upon them difficult – also, both having a more efficient manner at waging war than the more sedentary Bakarans accentuated the difficulty for the eager mad-scientists of the north.
These raids eventually seemed to have not sufficed anymore, and so a more lasting presence was required if medical science were to progress rapidly. A hold in Farbrook could have meant encircling the Arcturian Order, which, in turn, would divide its strength, but it would also mean the Order would have called upon all its forces and convinced regionals to form temporary defensive pacts against the invader. Bakara, though, was far enough and less defended on land for raids to be viable. Moreover, fierce debates in the Bakaran legislature and a dispute with the executive branch on the topic of plain and simple budget allocation had divided the old Republic like never before.
Of course, the Necromancers debated lengthily with each other on the more appropriate course of action. It ended with Ramana Cravan, “the Mother of Monsters”, and her right-claw Duco Leonis, “the Half-mad, Half-Genius”, decisively forcing their proposal through upon a substantial majority, enabling her to launch an invasion upon the divided Bakara.
On their own, they would have almost brought the northern coast to heel and heralded the end of the old Republic. In her endeavor, she had taken with her the dreaded Spiders – mongrels made of a griffon body with a set of spider-like limbs protruding from their side, ending each with a serrated diamond claw. The Spiders were rarely used for the arduous task of crafting such monstrosities and the tremendous skills required to preserve a hold upon these things without them running loose on the battlefield. Cravan also had brought others of her creations, like Silverbirds and Scourges. Which, while unable to use magic, were given extraordinary agile limbs and strong wings. The Scourges were said to have an aura of discomfort emitting out of them, sending their prey reeling at their very presence – also said to be able to nullify all magic around them.
The fleet of Ramana embarked as soon as the good season arrived. After one week of travel, Ramana and Duco reached Bakara but without being intercepted by a small force of Farbrookian midway through. Who then proceeded to inform Bakaran traders of the imminent assault.
And so, the two naval forces would clash not far from the northern-most tip of the continent in a battle that had mobilized the entirety of the Bakaran navy, with the addition of quickly retrofitted fishing boats to bolster the flanks. While, at first, cannons and magic rendered the League’s ships into mincemeat, the savagery on display by the League was nothing but terrifying. Boats would be levitated and hurtled toward the foe, arcane magic transforming once-proud warriors into nothing more than a glistering pile of goo (color varied) and morphing the wooden frame of the embarkations into pikes that impaled the unsuspected Bakarans. But they would resist; reinforcements were coming, and on-shore artillery was dwindling the League’s terror warfare slowly but steadily. However, Ramana’s arrival into battle with a flotilla she had purposefully dragged behind and the landing of an entire force of scourges on shore shifted the balance almost instantly.
Thinking the ordeal had been dragging for too long and to assist the deployment of the Spiders, she had also ordered for Duco to open her portable reliquary on top of the unsuspecting Bakaran beleaguered and slowly retreating naval force. Releasing trapped, mind-shackled, and heavily armed griffon and unicorn warbands captured from the Arcturian Order and the Northern Tribes. The melee would last for more hours still. The battle had started in the early hours of the morning and lasted until sunset, killing most of the Bakaran forces after hours of relentless fighting and desperate last stands. The Battle of Icy Waters, in tandem with the land Battle of the Burning Forests, had resulted in a total defeat of the Bakarans, virtually offering the north to the Dread League. However, the intervention of mercenary bands from Nimbusia and Wittenland, with the Republic spending the last remnants of its treasury and gold reserves to raise a militia to prevent at all cost the League from establishing a permanent presence in the Riverlands were able to stymie the unfolding deluge.
Concurrently, the Arcturian Order had launched its knights into the Cursed Land of the League, intending to divide the attention of the necromancer lords. However, the endeavor quickly proved unfruitful as the League had been awaiting a potential intervention of the Order. The war then turned into a defensive effort on the part of the knights, but one that was diverting more and more League forces from the main front. Near the once-known Gates of Moments, in the Land of Insanity, near the Order’s main chapter monastery of The End, one of Ramana’s students released her master’s most favorite creation, the Frostwyrms. A strange amalgamation of reptilian and insectoid organisms sporting a long snake-like body covered in armored-hard crystalline scales. As well as multiple limbs ending with razor-sharp claws able to render armor nigh useless. Those beasts were large enough to be on equal footing with any creature it may confront. And unlike the Spiders, frostwyrms were totally obedient to their master’s will, enacting all their orders with unchallenged discipline and speed.
The Order retreated as soon as these things were unleashed. However, not without losing hundreds of its warriors for the lighting strikes and expertly carried ambushes by the frostwyrms or succumbing to their frozen breath – the last sensation the victim would feel before being eaten. The bodies of the fallen was then used by the frostwyrms as a nest for its progeny. The retreat only ceased when the disciples of Cravan were unable to overcome the defenses of The End but were able to keep the Order pinned down in place for the rest of the war so they do not impede too much in her efforts.
Even though they had their claws full, the Master of the Order sent advisors to the Republic to aid its forces in methods to more effectively bring the joint menace to an end. The Master bestowed the Republic with the manner to produce magically imbued weapons and shields that, unlike the traditionally used spells, were far more deadly when in contact with “corrupted souls”. This assistance would lead to the gradual pushback of Ramana’s forces toward the coast and away from most major centers of habitation – or what she had liked to keep as being referred to as so.
And then, half a year into the war, Ramana died. Duco fled into the wilderness, pursued by an Arcturian sodality, but was never heard from again, and the End was freed of its quasi-siege. What is most interesting is the manner the self-named Mother of Monsters perished. Ramana’s death would come not from the sacrifice of a noble and skilled knight coming to meet her head-on for the last confrontation like it is so rampantly reported upon having occurred, but from the thing, she abhorred the most: politics. The excessive waste of resources her expedition had caused had earned the Mother of Monsters little support in the Council of Necromancer. In response, Cravan and her followers were put down by assassins answering directly to the League’s head, and the war was declared over. A declaration was sent in the form of a flock of carrier pigeons holding an arrow-pierced heart in a leather basket. And at the end of the arrow, a message, which upon completion of its reading made the birds detonate. Neat.
However, it is rumored that Ramana is not truly dead, as it is possible for her soul to have been preserved by the only necromancer that had not voiced his opinion on her actions nor condemned her for them. It is also said that the two had a more than positive opinion of each other. Ithrakil, also known as “the Once Lord”, is said to speak to himself at times or to some object in his proximity, but no one was able to confirm such a thing. The Once Lord is an elusive creature and prefers the isolation of his laboratory than the petty bickering and power struggles of his kin.
The aftermath of the henceforth known “Pandemonium Excursion”, also known as the War of Ruin, left the Republic in a deplorable state and on the brink of financial and economic collapse. It was under these conditions that the Hounds of the Diamond Mountains, under the rule of King Rudruk Shadowmail, then intervened to aid Bakara in its time of need. Driving off the rebelling mercenaries and taking over the remnants of the Bakaran government. The Republic was promptly made into a client-state of the kingdom, which would enable its recovery.
The takeover by the Hounds then brought the ire of Nimbusia. The Boule unilaterally elected to send its forces to liberate their equine brothers and sisters from the yoke of those “filth-ridden barbarians”. Flattering. In the First Bakaran War, the Nimbusians would be defeated, and their forces relegated to skirmishes and quick battles. For the next two decades, however, Bakara would know stability. Occupied still, but recovering and begrudgingly grateful for the king.
The death of Shadowmail engulfed the Diamond Mountains into an eight-year-long civil war, resulting in his youngest daughter, Arawilin Stormchest, inheriting the throne after defeating her four other siblings. This war had been Nimbusia’s long-awaited turning point. The Boule took advantage of the weakening of the Diamond Kingdom to readily assert control over what became an effectively independent Bakara.
Those Pegasi liberators rapidly turned the Republic into their own client-state with the promise of independence “until Bakara could stand on its own against the barbarian threat”. The Hounds would quickly prove to have been better overlords than the segregationist and slave-owning Nimbusians. And so, independentists took up arms, and armed groups rose all across to fight off their Pegasi enslavers – groups that were supplied by the vengeful Queen Arawilin, which was also secretly funded by the River Republic.
As the conflict extended into a decade, the expanses of the conflict and occupation simply became untenable to the Boule. However, none wanted to take the blame for the decline of the Nimbusian economy and the tremendous loss of life and prestige the occupation engendered upon the represented cities. The conflict of interest between the Boule’s members, coupled with the unwillingness to abandon Bakara, had led to a political deadlock with no end on the horizon. A situation worsened by the growing discontent of the military toward the conduct of these distant politicians. Which gripped the latter into a paranoid state in fear of being overthrown.
And so, the decline of Nimbusian power and its entrenchment into its own beliefs led the Bakarans to evolve the fighting into open warfare. The Bakaran ended up waging a full war of independence that was only interrupted by the Griffonian Empire’s Eastern Crusade of Emperor Grover II. The supplies of weapons and equipment provided by Arawilin and secretly by the River Republic had ceased completely. And with Nimbusia having taken the brunt of the fighting alongside Salt Lake, it finally permitted Bakara to regain its independence and full sovereignty over its land.
The actions of the Griffonian Empire would lead the nations of the Riverlands to sign a collective defensive agreement in Coltstream and thus forming the River Coalition. Even under the auspices of this defensive treaty, and to prevent the catastrophe of the past decades to reiterate itself, Bakara brought for itself a powerful, fast responding army (though it was later made into regional militias under a nominal central command) and rebuilt a substantial naval presence. The new Bakaran Naval Force rivaled the one the Republic possessed by all metrics. The Navy, already a mark of pride of the Bakarans before Ramana’s gamble, was made into a national symbol of defiance and strength. The memory of those brave sailors that had first stood against the Calamity all these years back was turned into a thing of legend and retold and reimagined many times over. The books are mostly meh.
In the subsequent years, the Republic kept its naval force up-to-date with the advances made outside the Riverlands and updated with the improvements made available by the collaboration of their fellow coalition members, Nimbusia – pressured by the River Republic and the Salt Lake State – and the Kingdom of Wittenland providing impressive shielding magic.
As time passed, the Admiralty fell into laxity, commissions for high-ranking officers having been turned into a more prestige-bound series of positions than a properly meritocratic military force. Commissions are offered to the highest bidder and the League’s failed attempt has been relegated to an almost myth.
***
‘What did you think of my brief retelling?’
‘Good, if a bit weird in places.’
‘Weird? Just weird? You only think of the scourges and frostwyrms as being an odd thing?’
‘… Myes. I experienced worse during the early days.’
‘Like the-’
‘I know what you will say, but no. It is and will always remain obfuscated from your ears, sister. Well… maybe in the future. I don’t know.’
Disappointment crept in, but she did not demand further. ‘So not uncomfortable about the whole modified creatures thing?’
‘A little. But the thing I do not understand is why the south of their foul peninsula? There are those tribes that could be an easier prey and, frankly, nobody would have been more strategically sound.’
‘You know when you are on a leisurely walk in the castle and have two doors in front of you, and you chose-’
‘The door on the right.’
‘But the left door leads you to more and better opportunities for a better and more enjoyable walk.’
‘Yes, but I live here. Why would I be conflicted about this?’
‘I think you are failing to understand where I am going with this…’
‘Celestia… I think you are the one failing to understand I was jesting.’
‘I fully comprehended… I was just distracted with work-related thoughts…’
‘Excuse me for that. Really.’ Luna took on a sarcastic tone. ‘And also it’s not me who has gotten her mind dulled after a millennium. So I advise you show the same I did to the thing in your skull – just for… hmm… how would you say it?’
She smiled. ‘Good points?’
‘Yes! Perhaps I have wrongfully judged you.’
Luna returned back with the same tone. ‘Well, at least you understood… Didn’t you?’
‘No.’ Celestia put her right hoof on Luna’s hair in a joking manner. ‘By the way, how did you get all this information on the inner working of the League? I doubt you would have gone there yourself,’ said Luna, putting away Celestia’s hoof.
Celestia did not answer.
‘Right...?’
‘It was a nice stay. A bit humid and replete with bad odors, but a nice sojourn it was.’
‘I am not speaking of the League of Toilet Cleaners but the Dread League!’
‘We have a League of Toilet Cleaners?? I don’t remember approving its formation. You did?’
‘Guild, league, or this union thing – what is the difference? And as if I had the time to know how this world works. And why would there not be one? I came back to some weird stuff, why not this?’
‘Our citizens are quite the creative bunch, indeed.’
‘“Creative” is quite a heavy word for what I have seen.’
‘Creative to a fault is more appropriate. Agreed?’
‘I won’t argue twice.’ She lifted both her eyebrows and then rested them back. ‘Anyways, how did you gather the information?’
‘From a helpful sorcerer that likes to talk with members of the Order. He never stated his name. But from the prisoner he would release out of pure enjoyment, he was a nice fella that would offer nice cakes and a cool, soothing voice. It’s for verbatim, by the way.’
‘Was?’
‘It has been a couple of centuries since he was last seen by the Order. Maybe he is here. Maybe he is in Griffus still. Who can say? It’s not like he has left clues that would work toward anything.’
‘As long as he stays quiet.’ Luna took a look at the map – at least, what seems like one – Celestia provided. ‘What is the name of this island? Greencliff?’
‘Close; Greneclyf. The same error I used to do, and definitely learned the exact pronunciation!’
‘I swear names have gotten more complicated.’
‘I beg to differ. It is just that you are too stubborn to learn them properly,’ she joked.
‘It’s not my labor to learn them by heart,’ continuing in the joke. ‘Plus, is it my fault most are named according to a similar foundational word?’
‘Hmmm… Quite. Yeah, I guess you do have a point. I have something ready for you on this island ’
‘I always have the best poinst when someone deign to listen… And why not… this forgotten island and not the… Sunstriker’s Clan, for instance? As a random choice I impatiently want to learn more about,’ she smirked.
‘Why not?’ she humorously replied.
‘Outstanding retort!’
‘Had quite some time to perfect it further.’
‘On the topic… go to that whatever thing you have. You need to go. You have to go. You are required to go. You-’
Celestia nudged Luna a little, got up, and left without saying a word but clearly smiling on the side.
Money speaks first; consequences are second
‘War is good for business. Peace is good for business. There is always a way to make a good profit.’
-Some businessgriff.
The mystery of how Changelings made their way onto that forgotten island on the fringe of civilization is… well… a mystery. They themselves barely remember those days. And for generations, the inhabitants of the island lived mostly in isolation from the rest of the world. With only the disparate tribes of Farbrook having anything coming close to an amicable relationship with them. However, even in their isolation, the Changelings were suspected to have ventured outside their home for some purpose or another. There is no evidence of them having influenced the world in the manner you might expect – how much many would like to claim so. And if they did work for their interest, it was surely for their immediate protection and for the long term; their reported level of technological development speaks for itself. It is stagnant, with little to nothing related to even a spec of significant development making itself manifest out of the island. Even so, some sparse reports came that… Greneclyf has a modern navy. You may wonder how such a technologically backward state was capable of accessing such marvels of nautical technology. Ease your concerns and wonder no more!
It had all begun with a dispute between the many tribes of the island over a tenuous succession “crisis”. See, many monarchs ruled their individual hives on Greneclyf. And since times they themselves forgot of, the clans would elect a High-Queen or High-King to rule the island as one. Typically, it would have been an easily resolved affair, but that time around, ambitious dynasts were abound, and the ancient title was highly sought after. Knowing these conditions, a member of one of these clans and accompanied by a cadre of loyal followers had decided – by his own volition – to force the other clans into choosing his sister as the new High-Queen in a rather unconventional manner. He was assured no war would occur on the island over the issue of succession, for it was not (and still is not) the way of their people. Instead, the throne would be chosen over, to never-ending talks about old laws, precedents, some ancient feuds, and sometimes about who is to blame for the food tasting bad. All – except for the last – he could not stand.
What this dastardly genius decided to do is simple: to set sail toward the continent and blend themselves into the local populace. Via charm and guile, they made their way through multiple griffonian financial institutions and industrial firms to gather and divert enough funds toward financing the deposit required by the Skyfallans and Aquileans to begin constructing the future navy. All in less than five years. How could they divert this much funds without even being caught by our Griffon friends? Well, it is said that some anonymous rich benefactor has offered them with more of what they required. A tall, hooded figure with a metallic voice, according to later tales.
In short, it all went well, but as the prospect of guiding those ships toward Greneclyf reared its head, the brother and his accomplices decided on kidnapping unicorns to run the engines. Of course, as per the Greneclyfian tradition of non-violence, the kidnapping was done through an offer for intrepid unicorns in need of money or adventure to join them in their voyage to lands exotic. And Haukland and Aquilea were the perfect spots for these eager individuals.
In time, a sufficient number answered the call, and they then set course to the island. The rest of the contract was not paid, and the company in charge of shipbuilding declared bankruptcy without being able to identify the culprits shortly thereafter. With the chaotic nature of the continent in the wake of the Revolution and reeling from years of corruption, no actions were undertaken to take back those ships from their unknown buglers.
In the matter of ammunition, the Changelings met with an eager arms dealer on the shores of Skynavia. The unicorns wanting to leave were permitted to go, but for some reason, many remained. And the cabins, afterward, were very noisy at night. Surely from one of those spells, they are known to cast. At any rate, the travel proceeded smoothly, and a few shells were gifted in amazing conflagration to the benighted sorcerers along the way.
Finally arriving at Greneclyf, the brother presented his deeds to the gathered council, and his sister was sworn in as the new High-Queen of Greenclyf – continuing the 800 years-old line of the Leahamn Dynasty. The kidnapped crew was offered the possibility to remain with their new Changeling friends, but most took the monetary promise and were taken to Bakara to regain their land. Now, a small community still lives on the island, teaching the Changelings their language and giving the newly chosen queen, Gytha, the additional hope to open her country to the world for the friendliness those outsiders showed.
Books were written about this adventure and were classified as “fiction” by the many publishers instead of “autobiography” the authors insisted upon…
Fuck you, Clancy.
***
‘Who is this Clancy?’
‘A moron.’ She mumbled unintelligible words for a brief second.
Luna fixated Celestia for a few seconds, awaiting for an elaboration that would never come. ‘So… care to explain further?’
‘He’s a bitch.’
A shocked expression drew itself on her expression. After many a consideration, Luna continued. ‘Ah! Okay… He is a… uhh… the son of an ill-bred canine. Neat, neat… Not flattering for the Hounds, but sure why not. Nothing more on this mysterious individual?’ she insisted.
‘His existence alone warrants the extermination of this world and the opening of the gates of Tartarus.’ Not even sounding a little bit sarcastic.
‘WOW! Alright.’ Luna took the papers. ‘I will change the subject… This,’ she gave a close look at the notes, ‘Gytha.’ Luna checked again. ‘Yes, Gytha. She seems like a nice block. Her brother is…’ she hesitated, ‘… a peculiar individual. Those Changelings seem different than ours. And equally isolationist… Well, not so much. Have any expeditions been sent to retrieve the lost hardware?’
‘Too expensive, Luna! Come on, work this mind of yours! Eyr doesn’t throw wealth at random. “Eyr is not a socialist”,’ she took the tone of a proud and assured individual.
Luna did not question who Celestia was referring to. ‘I mean, they must be incredibly expensive, so it will pay itself just in value – right?’ What is a socialist again? she thought.
‘Yes… But, the Empire and others do not exactly have the resources for some ships. Plus, they may be made of metal, but it is still metal – it still rusts.’
‘Hm… Maybe Twilight and her clique can retrieve the ships for our fleet with their friendship powers… thing. You know what I am referring to.’
‘Brilliant!’
‘Yeah… I will let you decide on it. I don’t really care. I don’t feel like learning about the working of modern ships – the old ones were already a pain as they were. And I wasn’t the one that was robb-’
‘I was not robbed, Luna!’ She had made sure not to heighten her voice. ‘That low-life, run-off, reprobate did not-’
Luna grabbed her sister’s head between her two hooves. ‘Sure, sure. You were tricked, right?’ Letting loose of Celestia.
Celestia approached Luna and whispered in her ear. ‘I don’t want to talk about it. Maybe later.’
Luna laughed. ‘Ha-ha! Take your time, I don’t want to hard-press you. Seems like… an interesting story. He-he. And who knows, maybe I will be inspired to write a one thousand page book about it.’
‘Randomly chose that number, huh?’
‘Myes. Also – why this one was so short?’
‘Try to write about some forgotten island a continent away and tell me where it will take you. Plus, it is not like many exciting things might have occurred other than the quite dull line of succession. They had twenty queens with the same name succeeding each other – you know? I bet the Griffons will envy this when the knowledge becomes more widespread,’ she laughed to herself.
‘I don’t doubt. Like I don’t doubt there was some hint of prejudice in your text. There was some amazing potential to write about the misadventures of Griffons. Even if imaginary.’
‘Based accusations? I thought you were better than this!’
‘I am a mare of many mysteries…’ She paused. ‘Like Clanc-’
‘Shut up!’
