Saonedh

With neither Utempe’s great wealth nor Paakirjä’s military might, Saonedh is the least powerful of the human nations in Taresani. Having gained its sovereignty through the rebellion of a lone adventurer, Sahun Dkarit, one hundred and sixty-nine years ago, Saonedh has failed to truly gain an independent identity as a nation. Its inhabitants are barely aware of their nationality or of the identity of their king, and the Saonedhi nobility are by and large an unruly, wilful lot that would sooner go their own way five miles than the way of their king for one. Furthermore, there is a great deal of internal conflict between the Saonedhi lords, and there is hardly any national military. If these are considered, then it should be hardly surprising that Utempe is preparing to retake Saonedh soon enough, and finally abolish the feeble lineage of the rebel king.

Founding Year
Sahun Dkarit crowned the King of Saonedh Free Year 29.

Capital City
Apedh.

Geography
Saonedh sits in the easternmost area of Taresani, separated from Paakirjä by the Siirimat Gulf, with Utempe at its southwestern border. Saonedh lies on a peninsula, with most of its populace dwelling in the central areas of the kingdom. The only river of notable size is the Zorelm, flowing from southeast of the Dìreñog Forest in northern Saonedh, turning west and reaching the Siirimat Gulf with the town of Forshyn at its mouth. The Dìreñog is the only elven forest within Saonedhi borders, blanketing most of the kingdom’s northern coast and perhaps a quarter of its overall territory. As one travels east, the Dìreñog slowly diminishes into sharp, fairly prominent hills, called the Dhuzarl. The Dhuzarl are not nearly as wild and labyrinthine as the Nasvija Fells of Paakirjä and Hentölla, and though they were once a refuge for orcs during the darkest years of the invasion, the bands within Saonedh were exterminated by FY 19. The Dhuzarl Hills, moreover, are far more amenable to the growth of trees than the jagged fells, and thick growths of pine and fir obscure their shape. The Dhuzarl Hills run from eighty kilometres east of the town of Brashiv to the eastern coast of Saonedh, where they drop quite suddenly down to the shoreline. Lake Isriyt, the largest lake in Saonedh, lies in the northeast, beyond Brashiv, where its waters are fished by rustic serfs. Brashiv itself grew from a minor trading outpost, founded in an ancient village that custom says was the first Nimasthari settlement in Taresani, vital as the crossroads between the capital at Apedh, Goenka in the east, and the trade roads to Utempe. South of the Dhuzarl Hills runs a peninsula known as Armùk’s Horn, a wild and storm-blasted stretch of barrens. To the northeast of the Horn lies the easternmost city in Taresani, Goenka. The fishermen of Goenka sail far beyond the sight of land in pursuit of the richest fisheries in the known world, some two hundred kilometres south of the city. Those waters are as treacherous as they are bountiful, thick with fog and lashed by storms. All of Taresani receives extremities of climate, but Saonedh in general and Goenka in particular suffer from titanic winter storms, weeks of autumnal fog, and seemingly-ceaseless vernal rains.

The southern regions of Saonedh lift upwards slightly, providing a natural boundary against Utempe not with rivers or with mountains, but with a long, narrow stretch of land where farming is nearly impossible due to the rocky soil. The only settlement of note in that region is the saighe of Khalyt, near the coast. The only humans that regularly visit that region are noblemen during the autumnal hunt and traders moving to and from Utempe. The western shores of Saonedh are rather similar to the northern coast of Utempe, with wild fens and little stable ground. Treeless, the fens swarm with mosquitoes in the summer and are caked with ice in the winter. The town of Forshyn was built on an islet at the mouth of the River Zorelm, where (as in the case of Cutha) some of the only ground suitable for shipyards lies along the coast of the Siirimat Gulf. The main occupation of the inhabitants of Forshyn involves either fishing the shallow waters nearby, or trading with the island of Kasijerne and the ports of Sivöppa and Cutha. In the region north of the River Zorelm and east of the coast lies a sweeping land of pastures and sheep herds, the homeland of the Summer Rising. At its heart lies the looming, ancient fortress of Apedh, and the city that has grown at its feet. The fortress itself was built perhaps two thousand years ago, when the Nimastha still bore weapons of bronze. The fortress was constructed from an unknown variety of stone with a blood red coloration that has been carved into blocks burnished to gleaming. The fortress primarily consists of a barred ring, sitting at the apex of a hill at the city’s heart. The wall which bisects the ring splits its courtyard into northwestern and southeastern halves, where the Saonedhi kings maintain gardens and storehouses for the support of the fortress during a possible siege. At the centre of the bisecting wall, a tower rises for eighty metres, at the peak of which lies a room with glass windows rather than walls. However, this glass is apparently impossible to shatter. The history of the fortress’ construction is unknown, as is the nature of its materials. Today it is best known as the Curgab: in the local Nimasthari dialect, “seat.” The exact provenance of the Curgab is the matter of Nimasthari myth rather than reliable historical record: the Nimastha say that it was constructed by the wizard-warrior Arzhivlat, a figure of their more ancient myths, as both a monument to his conquest of the Nimastha and as a place to protect himself against the Barindre, who sought to overthrow him. The glass-walled chamber at the top of the Curgab’s tower now serves as the Saonedhi throne room, in which Sahun Dkarit was crowned as the nation’s first king.

Population & Demographics
Saonedh is the least populous of the nations of Taresani due to its inferior soil. Its human inhabitants, who are Zhemerau Nimastha, mainly dwell in the valley of the River Zorelm, where they cultivate rye and barley during Taresani’s long summer days. Pastoralist nomads roam the grassland between the River Zorelm and the Dìreñog Forest, and the wild people of the Dhuzarl Hills hunt and gather their food. About Brashiv there are farming villages, but they are small and do not lie beyond the horizon from the city’s walls. Similarly with Goenka and Forshyn there are fishing villages within eyesight from the walls, but beyond, the coastline diminishes into wilderness. The largest settlement in Saonedh is Apedh, as the Curgab was never infiltrated by the orcs and its people remain well-guarded against any possible threat. The southernmost regions of the nation are essentially empty of habitation, as the few nomads that once roamed those rocky plains were slain or driven out during the Great Orc-Wars. In Saonedh, there are overall two hundred and five thousand human inhabitants (though the nation lacks a census); twenty-nine thousand dwarves and eighteen thousand gnomes within the saighe of Khalyt; three thousand elves within the Dìreñog Forest; twenty-six hundred halflings, mainly concentrated in the plains north and east of the River Zorelm; three hundred half-elves, almost all of whom reside in the city of Apedh; and a negligible number of half-orcs. Fortunately for the peoples of Saonedh, there have been no orcs within the kingdom’s borders since the end of the Restoration (with the exception of a maritime attempt at invasion from across the Siirimat Gulf in FY 144, which was destroyed before it reached the shore). Of the two hundred and five thousand human inhabitants, perhaps one hundred and thirty thousand farm in the valley of the River Zorelm. Apedh has seven thousand inhabitants within the Curgab and the city immediately surrounding it.

Government & Foreign Relations
Perhaps the best way to describe Saonedh’s government is through comparison. Utempe is rather like an exaggerated form of Sraiyag Vacan’s state of affairs: the power in both nations rests solidly in their respective Royal Houses, but while House Malkerian affords a certain extent of power to the lower ranks of the nobility, in Utempe House Gemsari retains near-absolute authority, for all that the lower nobility may pretend otherwise concerning their freedom. Contrastingly, Saonedh is more similar to an exaggerated form of Drecitou. In Drecitou, House Zenali’s power is not nearly as great as that of House Malkerian, and the local Lords retain a great deal of power over their individual domains. However, House Zenali retains ultimate control through the Fivefold Oath, which binds its vassals to submit entirely to the demands of the King in the case of war against an external threat, and which gives the monarchy absolute control over both the tax system and the coffers. Conversely, in Saonedh, House Sahun has even less power. There is no unified military in Saonedh, nor is there a reliable tax system, due to the rural nature of so many of its human inhabitants. After the bountiful early days following Sahun Dkarit’s victorious rebellion, Dzumketri’s reign was one of peace, where the land was rebuilt and the Nimasthari clans were resettled. With the chaos that the Great Orc-Wars had brought, such peace was necessary of the nation was to survive. With the harmony that Dzumketri had brought, a foundation seemed to have been perfectly set for vigorous and wise successors who would fulfil Sahun’s vision of a vibrant Nimasthari nation, free of the claws of House Gemsari’s influence. However, something went awry. Krasuci reigned fairly, yet without the same visionary fire of his grandfather, instead preferring to focus on matters of mundanity and maintenance. Taim, his successor, was a useless individual who preferred to simply indulge in the frivolities that one might have expected more from the Marnic Houses in their decadence before the Fall—and, unfortunately, his reign was not nearly so brief as those of those particular degenerates. After three decades of mismanagement by his predecessor, King Urtibayn has struggled to re-establish his nation. The nobles that should be Urtibayn’s obedient vassals have instead come to prefer the flavour of independence, no matter how it might affect their nation. Even in the gossip of the low people, it is common knowledge that the blood of Sahun Dkarit and Iyergaîl has been thinned, and that its descendants seem unworthy. The Saonedhi nobility of the southwest are especially insubordinate to House Sahun, and ride across the border to share feasts and drinks with their Utempi neighbours. Some of the southwestern noblemen have even met with the Gemsari Kings, and gone unpunished by Urtibayn. In the regions around the city of Apedh, the nobility retain their loyalty to the King, though perhaps more out of allegiance to Sahun Dkarit’s legacy than out of fealty to or fondness for Urtibayn himself. With the rising tension and possibility of war between Utempe and Saonedh, it seems likely that the southwestern vassals of House Sahun will betray King Urtibayn and declare themselves for House Gemsari in the event of a declaration of war. Whether the other regions of Saonedh, with the exception of the northern plains, will turn against their Lord remains to be seen.

Of the three nations of Taresani, Saonedh likely has had the least contact with Kerlonna and, to this day, lacks formal diplomatic relations with Drecitou. Marginalised at first due to particular strings pulled by Kandirza Gemsari at the end of his life, Saonedh remained isolated as the years passed due to the economic and military superiorities of Utempe and Paakirjä, respectively. Because of the native animosity between the descendants of Kandirza and those of Sahun Dkarit, it should come as no surprise that there are no formal relations between Saonedh and Utempe. In practical terms, Utempe and Saonedh have well-established relations in economic matters. Much as it might discomfort King Urtibayn to hear it, the Utempi merchant vessels ultimately carry the lifeblood of the Saonedhi economy. Drecitoun markets for gemstones, hides, pearls, and gold can only be accessed through the medium of the Utempi traders, and only the wealth from these markets provides the White-Spear with sufficient taxes (as it lacks proper taxes on its own farmers). Furthermore, only the trade in gems, pelts, and pearls provides a cause for travel between the western and eastern regions of Saonedh. Were it not for that trade, neither the trappers of the Dhuzarl Hills nor the fishermen of Goenka would have any reason to speak with travelling merchants from Forshyn or Brashiv. The low people of Saonedh have a rather positive attitude towards Utempi traders, as they know such men are responsible for the prosperity of their people. Perhaps even more than House Gemsari itself, the Utempi traders are a danger to House Sahun’s sovereignty, as they have grown to be favoured by the people. Such tolerance inevitably leads to understanding, which will undermine the basic legitimacy and foundation of House Sahun’s reign: that it presents the sole just governance for the Nimastha people free of the dominance of the alien Marnics. Saonedh’s only official diplomatic relations are with Paakirjä, and they are tenuous at best. The Kyrateen of Paakirjä look down upon the Lords of Saonedh. In such a militaristic nation and grim culture as those of the Iseilua, the elven bloodline of House Sahun (and the fact that Krasuci abdicated in order to pursue artistic interests) are signs of weakness rather than of sophistication. The Paakirjäni on a whole have something of a distaste for the Saonedhi, but they must maintain diplomatic relations due to the economic importance of trade across the Siirimat Gulf. The Paakirjäni do not have such a disliking for the Saonedhi that they would prefer to trade by land with them, allowing the Utempi to gouge into their profits. The Saonedhi in turn regard the Paakirjäni with suspicion, and see their rampant militarism as a front for the uncompromising reign of the Lomrikyrateen. To a monarchical people, rule by the military, rather than rule over the military, seems unnatural. In Kerlonna itself, Saonedh is hardly noticed. Drecitou’s historical experiences with Taresani have truly been confined to trade with Utempe and Paakirjä’s war with and occupation of the city of Serlau. Even prominent members of the Drecitoun nobility are likely to respond, “Where might that be?” when one asks them if they have heard of the kingdom of Saonedh. The Lord of Serlau Province and the King of Drecitou will know of Saonedh’s existence, but few others will. It remains a largely mysterious place to the people of Kerlonna.

Economy
Of the three nations in Taresani, Saonedh has the smallest economy, both in absolute terms and in proportion to the size of its population. Internally, the only significant flow of goods would be from Goenka to Brashiv, bringing pearls to be sold at Drecitoun markets in Serlau and elsewhere. The rule of House Sahun has failed to establish a proper tax system such as the tributes of grain that Drecitou, Utempe, and Paakirjä use, or the universal military conscription which functions as an equivalent “tax” in Sraiyag Vacan and Ishkula. Instead, regional vassals of the King simply demand a grain tribute from their particular serfs, and use it for themselves to establish a stable store of food in their region. While Utempe has well-built roads in the manner of the Marnic Federation, Saonedh has packed dirt trails at best, which become buried in snow in the winter and muddy during the spring melt. Of the four major settlements in Saonedh, Brashiv is the most economically important: in the late spring, the market there begins (lasting until mid-autumn) as the trappers and miners of the Dhuzarl Hills bring pelts and gems, fishermen from Goenka bear great heaps of pearls, and the prospectors of the River Zorelm carry gold leaf refined from the mud of the river bottom. Even then, Brashiv cannot compare to Tsrin in either the size of its markets or the number of its merchants. The other three towns of Forshyn, Apedh, and Goenka go largely ignored by the Utempi, as they simply do not merit the travel necessary to reach them. The port at Forshyn, however, sees a fairly brisk pace, as Saonedhi vessels cross the Siirimat Gulf and trade with the Paakirjäni city of Sivöppa throughout the warm months. Due to taxes on goods travelling through Utempe, it is considerably more profitable for the Paakirjäni and the Saonedhi to trade with one another directly than to do so through Utempe. The nobility of Paakirjä have a similar demand for furs, gems, and pearls from Brashiv as the Drecitouns (though of course their demand is far less in volume), and until recently mercantile shipping across the Siirimat Gulf was a brisk trade. Since the resurgence of orcish activity in the Nasvija Fells, and the consequent increased danger of travelling the road between Sivöppa and Hakeli, the trade across the Siirimat has become rather diminished compared to its previous condition. If the orcs are driven back, the trade will quickly revitalise, but if they are not, lasting economic damage could be done.

The agrarian regions of Saonedh are concentrated mainly in the river valley of the Zorelm, where about half of the nation’s human population is concentrated. As Saonedh is somewhat farther north than Utempe, wheat does not grow quite as well there, but rye and barley, the mainstays of agriculture in Taresani, flourish in the mud of the Zorelm’s banks. There is also fairly fertile soil around Brashiv (which was likely established in that location for that exact reason), and it remains far enough from the eastern coast that it is not constantly lashed by storms. South of Brashiv and the River Zorelm, the soil becomes increasingly inhospitable as it grows rockier and thinner, until, about twenty kilometres from the border, it simply becomes incapable of supporting stable communities. Halflings alone wander that stony plain, harvesting the hardy berries growing amidst the rocks and fishing from freshwater streams and lakes. Along the western coast, the obstacle to agriculture is the opposite of the border: rather than the soil being deficient in fertility, it is over-abundant in it. The western fens are a daunting place for agrarian undertakings, as the native reeds and wetland flowers rapidly swarm up and choke the rye and barley during the long days of summer sun. Furthermore, there are few stretches of solid ground in the west that would provide a proper foundation for a farm. Along the eastern coast, rain and wind come so frequently that it is to the detriment of growing things. The trees there are hardy, gnarled things, and only huddled shrubs and dune grasses successfully cling to the eastern beaches. The seemingly-ceaseless rain washes fertility from the soil, leaving the earth pale and sandy compared to that of farther west. Finally, the Dhuzarl Hills are simply inappropriate for farming. The needles fallen from the pines and firs poison the soil to any growth except that of evergreens, and in many places the soil is thin enough that the rock of the hills juts into the air. There have never, in recorded history or in the folklore of the Nimastha, been attempts to cultivate the Dhuzarl Hills. Therefore, the valley of the River Zorelm and the region about Brashiv in many ways is an “island” of agriculture, beyond which is mostly mere wilderness. North of the River Zorelm, sheep are herded across rolling grassland and occasional stands of hardwood forest. Cattle are not well-suited to the thinner grasses of Saonedh, though goats can be raised fairly well. Lastly, particularly robust ponies are well-established in Saonedh, and are used more for pulling wagons than carrying riders. Saonedhi pony stock is so resilient that the Utempi nobility have crossbred them with Marnic warhorses to produce some of the strongest horses in the known world.

Culture
Saonedhi cultural norms are really quite similar to those of Utempe, as there is little variation on one side of the border and the other. However, compared to the cultures of Kerlonna, the standards of the Nimastha seem positively alien at times. Honesty is valued as perhaps the highest virtue of their culture, and shortly after that comes emotional control. Perhaps the only cultural trait that differentiates the Saonedhi from the Utempi is that Saonedhi are far less interested in foreign cultures compared to prosperous Utempi. Since Saonedh has had a long and troubled history concerning is border with Utempe, and since the people of the kingdom have had almost no direct contact with Kerlonna, this characteristic should come as no surprise. While all of Taresani is an insular and withdrawn place, the Saonedhi epitomise this. Many Saonedhi peasants have likely never even heard any form of the Marnic languages, and regard Tsrintek as the language of sophistication, while Sydääkut would be an exotic tongue of mystery. With such insularity, a natural sense of superiority tends to follow. The Nimastha in general, and the Saonedhi in particular, have a deeply rooted but poorly articulated feeling that they are “special” in the world, and that they are the measure of all others. Despite their poor soil, their wild climate, and their ignorance of Kerlonna, the Saonedhi carry within them a near-unassailable sense of cultural pride. This ingrained sense of superiority was truly the main cause of the Summer Rising. The Nimastha following Sahun Dkarit were ashamed that their people had needed the aid of foreigners from beyond the Pale Sea, and it conflicted with their fundamental worldview. Therefore, they sought to blame House Gemsari rather than themselves for their “failure,” and made war to better defeat their own humiliation. The Saonedhi themselves rarely understand this fully: most simply resort to the pretext that House Gemsari was oppressive, rather than truly examine their own cultural hubris. Even the Utempi do not often grasp the nature of this Nimasthari nationalism, instead assuming that Sahun Dkarit was “merely” a rabble-rousing ruffian. The Saonedhi, in truth, do not learn the Marnic languages or concern themselves with Kerlonna because they do not have any interest in them. They do not consort with Drecitouns because they think themselves their betters. This same “savage arrogance” was once noted by the classical Amvidric historian Tuveñka, in his greatest work, Accounts of the Unification: “But beyond the settled fields of the Tlankuram hung only the Injili, treasuring the bones of their fathers, and the wild men of the north. And for all that we may speak of the sea-people for their overweening pride, they cannot match the hubris of the northern horseman. Only those who do not know the world see it to be their hunting ground.” What Tuveñka wrote concerning the forefathers of the Parumya tribes is almost exactly applicable to the Saonedhi.

As an extension of their insularity, the Saonedhi do not often think of the nonhumans as worthy of their attention or interest. The saighe-dwellers are, themselves, isolated, and thus the two groups get along quite well by mutually ignoring one another. The halflings, meanwhile, are allowed to wander as they will, and in fact are not treated with the same occasional prejudice that they may face in Kerlonna. This is not because the Saonedhi have any particular fondness for the halflings, but rather because they do not see them as in any way involved in their society, and thus have no reason to harm them. Elves are regarded as beautiful and mysterious, however, and Nimasthari isolationism does not quite apply to them. There has long been a sort of “elven mystique” in Nimasthari and especially Saonedhi culture, due to the fact that Sahun Dkarit himself was accepted by the people of the forest and married into their race. As a result, it should not be surprising that in many ways half-elves are accepted and even celebrated among the Nimastha. How much of this is native, and how much was introduced during the benevolent eighty-two year reign of the half-elven Dzumketri, is unsure. However, half-orcs are completely rejected by the Saonedhi, as they represent only the worst aspects of the Great Orc-Wars, and of the pollution of their glorious solitude. As an extension of their isolation, the Nimastha are almost unyieldingly conservative. Innovation is often identified with “foreignness,” and any Nimasthari elder will spend a great deal of time examining an innovative idea or action in the worst possible light. New things are unwelcome because they suggest that the old order was flawed—and, by extension, that there is imperfection in the seclusion of the Saonedhi. To any inhabitant of Kerlonna, a blanket refusal to welcome outside influences or new ideas is madness, but to the Nimastha, it is downright instinctive. This should not be misconstrued as meaning that the Nimastha absolutely will not accept innovation. If it is clearly better to change than to follow the old ways, the Nimastha will adopt the new course of action without complaint. They are not, on the whole, a foolish people, after all. Sahun Dkarit himself was greatly innovative in his variety of tactics used against House Gemsari, and no elders on his side objected to such creative thinking. However, curious and inventive people rarely feel that they “fit” in a Nimasthari village, and often become adventurers rather than follow the ways of their parents: no matter how inventive or traditional they are, any who battle with orcs are treated with respect and celebrated by their people. Adventurers in Nimasthari culture are often treated with both deference and mystification, as they are so often radically different from the societal standards.

Laws in Saonedhi culture are regarded as memorials, of a sort, to the Barindre who established them long ago. Unlike the Iseiluaan Sykkin, Saonedhi law is not separate from governance, but it remains mainly unwritten, and polycentric rather than codified. There are extensive laws governing matters of agriculture and currency, as well as established rates of barter exchange. Consequently, the Nimastha avoid the tendencies towards disagreement and occasional violence that mark other bartering cultures which lack such standardisation. In general, the Nimastha frown upon violence that sheds blood, but tolerate mere fistfights from the young men, especially during the winter when they are inebriated and with an excess of time on their hands. Storytellers are deeply respected, perhaps because of their ability to keep the people occupied during Taresani’s long winters, and the rich oral tradition of the Nimastha stretches back more than four thousand years. Nimasthari music is notable for its lilting, playful melodies and sophisticated rhythms, to which dancing is considered a natural accompaniment. Unlike the people of the former Federation, the Nimastha see little divide between music of the nobles and music of the low people, and thus one can hear the same music in the halls of the Curgab that one might find fifty miles away in a village of shepherds (though with the obvious difference of the music in the Curgab being more skilfully performed). The nobility mark their status not in brightly coloured clothing, as dyes are difficult to obtain in the economically isolated nation of Saonedh. Rather, one can recognise the nobility by their jewellery, which they treasure and pass through their lineages. Silver is cheaper in Taresani than on mainland Kerlonna due to the incredibly productive silver mines of northwestern Paakirjä, meaning that most merchants of at least moderate prosperity will have pieces of silver jewellery. Nimasthari nobility mark their status instead with gold jewellery, which is far more expensive: other than the deposits of gold found in the River Zorelm, the bulk of gold in Taresani is imported from Drecitou by the Utempi. Emeralds are the most frequently found gems in the Dhuzarl Hills, and the Saonedhi nobility can sometimes be found to prominently wear emerald stones upon necklaces or rings in order to display (or flaunt) their loyalty to House Sahun. Merchants form the smallest social class in Saonedh, with the nobility and low people coming afterwards in increasing order of size. Within Saonedh, people of the River Zorelm regard themselves as the most sophisticated, due to the high population and relative wealth of the region. Most Saonedhi from beyond the river valley share this attitude, such that most Saonedhi noblemen aspire to gain land along the river to increase their social status. Lastly, within their own homes, the Nimastha love bright light and colours. What few dyes can be found in Saonedh are used on sheets of cloth that are hung from the walls, with rich ochre, crimson, and pale blue hues. The home of a Nimasthari nobleman is a bright and cheerful place, with numerous torches, hanging sheets in a veritable rainbow of colours, and traditional carvings.

Religion
As noted before, there is little cultural concordance between the peoples of Taresani and Marnic-descended lands. One of the clearest manifestations of this has to do with how they regard the land. In Marnic cultures, the land is regarded as something to be treated with care, worshipfully treated in Yärnate’s name, and managed wisely. However, at the same time, it is regarded as simply what it is: the earth. However, among the Nimastha, the earth is not merely anything, but is itself an immanent spiritual presence. Likely connected to animistic beliefs in primitive peoples of Kerlonna, the Nimastha literally regard the earth and living things as sentient forces that were given souls by the creator deity, Gysim. As a result, their activities that interact with the land are heavily ritualised. The first ploughing in spring may only be done by a priest, and at high summer animals are sacrificed so that their blood may bring about the fruiting of the orchards. During spring and autumn, during the height of activity in the fields, in a Nimasthari land one can hear the farmers intoning prayers addressed to the soil they work as they go about their day. Ritual music is played at times to summon rain or banish the frost, and after autumnal harvest, mead is sprinkled upon the fields to reward and thank them for their gift of grain. The festivals and holy days of the Nimasthari native religion are intimately tied into the cycles of the earth. With the strong variation in daylight between summer and winter that one finds in Taresani, the solstices and equinoxes have naturally assumed a vital role in their culture.

The rituals of the winter solstice are perhaps the most dramatic, and certainly the most intoxicated. Upon the dusk of the hibernal solstice night, great heaps of brush are set ablaze, and continually fed until dawn the next day. “Ice demons” are built from snow, then happily decapitated by the children, their chilly heads tossed into the fires. The priests distribute mead and fruit wines to all, symbols of the past year’s fruitfulness. Supplicants kneeling in snow banks sing to the vanished sun, summoning it to return and warm the world once more. Drums measure out an even pulse, driving the festivities through the night. At daybreak, the ecstatic celebrants weep (perhaps attributable in part to their inebriation) and prostrate themselves before the eastern horizon. On the vernal equinox, the ritual is begun instead at midnight and ended at noon. Children dance through the fields while women gather flowers and work them into wreaths. The priests, arrayed in white, carry a sacrificial lamb from the pastures to the fields, where it is washed and sacrificed upon a stone, its blood smeared upon grass and shaken along the edge of the fields. On the aestival solstice, the festivities begin at dawn and end at dusk. Rather than fire, water is the central substance of that solstice: it is carried in skins from rivers and from lakes, and serves as a libation for the sacrificial bulls, who are slain upon the same stone that the lamb died upon, their meat and organs fed to the people. Water rinses the blood from the stone, and dirty faces and hands are washed clean. Finally, as the sun sets, the people mournfully call out to the sun their hope that it will return after its long rest. On the autumnal equinox, festivities begin at noon and end at midnight. Rather than sacrifice animals, they pour barley and rye flour into an open flame and spill libations of water and honey, intoning their reverence for the gods, for the earth, and for the sun. On the autumnal equinox (so they believe), the spirits of the dead that are not yet reincarnated travel back to the world, where they might cause mischief, or leave unusual gifts for the living.

The temples of the Nimastha are easily identified by their being built upon raised earth. An artificial hill is raised by the efforts of the local villagers, and atop the hill they construct a longhouse. In larger settlements, these are built from local stone, while in most other places they are just made from lumber. An altar is placed at the end of the hall, over which are set wooden carvings depicting the major deities in their respective poses. Benches run along the wall, and in the centre there is an aisle down which the priest proceeds during rites. Low-burning fires swing from small dishes, where particular herbs are incinerated to produce incense and clouds of smoke which alter the senses and the mind. A Nimasthari ritual is a primeval thing: from the femurs of ceremonially hunted deer, the priests craft great flutes to sound out in the name of the gods. The people intone dirge-like chants, ringing against the walls. Terror and bliss seem palpable on the air. Certainly, it is far removed from the peaceful reflections that one can find among the followers of Cagas Guapran.

The two scriptural religions, Sahullam and Cagas Guapran, have nearly no establishment in Saonedh. Missionary efforts from Kerlonna rarely come to Taresani, and almost never to Saonedh. However, a notable exception exists to this, with the figure of King Urtibayn himself. It seems that twenty-three years ago, a lone ahuspa went on a harrowing journey from his home in Shekin, crossing the Akulap Sea to Sraiyag Vacan, making his way to Drecitou, and finally reaching Taresani, after having been pursued multiple times by devotees of the Marnic Cults that wished for his death. When he arrived in Taresani, he left Utempe, prosecuted by the royal opposition to the scriptural religions, and arrived finally in the city of Apedh. There, he began to preach in the streets, and rather than be driven away by royal mandate, he was summoned to the Curgab. There, Urtibayn of House Sahun (then not yet the King of Saonedh) found himself deeply moved by the ahuspa’s words and by his conviction, and within several months he had declared himself ta’Ullami. Urtibayn has done what he can to cultivate the spread of Sahullam among his own people, though the wide language barrier between ta’Ullami scripture (mainly in the tongues of Idroslekh) and Saonedhi speech constrains this.

Language
The humans of Saonedh are all Zhemerau Nimastha, and consequently have a steep linguistic divide between themselves and the Iseilua, as well as a milder divide with the people of western and central Utempe, who speak Sanriat Nimasthari languages. Saonedh is so disunited that it may come as a surprise to foreigners to hear that it, at least, maintains a common language for trade and diplomatic matters, in order to avoid the confusion of dialect. However, this common language is not a Zhemerau language. Instead, Tsrintek, the language of the city of Tsrin and of House Gemsari, is the language of governance in Saonedh. Doubtless this would have been galling to Sahun Dkarit, but it is a matter of pragmatism. Utempe is a vital trading partner for Saonedh, and it is an asset to be able to speak directly with the Utempi merchants rather than have to pay a translator. Even the processes and declarations of the royal court at Apedh are done in Tsrintek, simply because it is universally spoken by the Saonedhi nobility. The adapted form of the Marnic alphabet, introduced by House Gemsari, is also used by the Nimasthari nobility to convey messages. One can divide dialects in Saonedh between two groups: river-dialects, and meadow-dialects. The former are spoken by the peoples dwelling along the River Zorelm or in the western fens about Forshyn, and seem to stem from a common ancestor. They are also fairly uniform, the only variations between them consisting of word use rather than of grammar and phonemes. The meadow-dialects, on the other hand, are made up of the rich variety of Zhemerau languages spoken on the plains north, south, and east of the river valley, and are far more diverse. The people of the River Zorelm tend to think of themselves as sophisticated and wealthy compared to the “outlanders” beyond, and consequently look down upon the manners of speech found on the plains. Noblemen from the plains often attempt to cultivate an accent that one would find along the River Zorelm (similar to how rustic Drecitoun noblemen attempt to disguise their provincial dialect when speaking with city-dwelling lords). Due to the elven ancestry of House Sahun, a number of words from Ghiñêsraf were introduced to its members’ manner of speaking, such that in the city of Apedh, one can occasionally hear (albeit quite debased) elven expressions and words.

History
Ages ago, the Nimastha dwelt in what is now northeastern Drecitou, and incarnate gods ruled them, children of the major deities that ruled over hill and plain. However, the earthly gods were lost, and stone giants drove the Nimastha from Kerlonna. Though the Nimastha landed on the western coast of what is now Utempe, Saonedh was the first region of Taresani secured by the Nimastha during their invasion four thousand years ago, and in many ways it can still be considered “the most Nimasthari” of the three human realms on the island. Their myths state that Brashiv was the first Nimastha town in Taresani, and that it was the site of the coronation of the first Barinde, Tsrin, who later led the war against the Iseilua to glorious victory when he overwhelmed a host of the enemy in the south, using great magic to tear them asunder and create what is now Lake Mùàdza in Utempe. In ancient times, glorious Barindre rode to war against each other and against the pale Iseilua for the favour of their gods, and they raised monoliths to apprehend the motions of the heavenly realms and the seasons of Eidzymà, the Tree of All Souls. Twice the Marnic Federation (or, as the Nimastha know it, the “Land of Peaceful Gold”) attempted to overwhelm Taresani with the strength of its mighty legions, but storm and sword had driven the legionaries back, or into the grave. However, the golden age of the Nimastha crashed into ruin and grief with the arrival of the orcs two centuries ago. The Barindre were eliminated one by one as the orcs pursued the Nimastha across the land, as if they were wolves toying with their game. None could withstand the orcish onslaught: Iseilua or Nimastha, human or nonhuman, all fell before the ravening monsters that had come from beyond the eastern sea.

In FY 1, tales began to spread into what is now Saonedh from the southwest, where the orcs were even more numerous. They were strange tales, but they burned brightly with hope. A man had come from beyond the Pale Sea, they said, a prince of the Land of Peaceful Gold. Behind him came fierce warriors (and this was most surprising to the Nimastha, for they had thought the Federation a gentle country where no man could raise his hand against another), and he bore both treasure and grain for the people of Taresani. This prince, Kandirza, called his family “House Gemsari”, and together they managed to expel the orcs from the southernmost coasts of Taresani. Though many among the Nimasthari low people thronged to Kandirza for the bread that he brought, there were others who drew back, and looked upon him with fear, for they saw in him the gleam of conquest, and the ambition to overwhelm their people as the Marnic Legions had never done: through peace rather than war, and the wheat-loaf rather than the sword. Through his genius of war, the Thorns were created—intrepid adventurers who delved far into the wilderness where the orcs lurked and hunted them as orcs hunted men—and the Turisatic Legion, once made up of deserters from the Federal Legions of Marnoz, soon began to receive recruitment requests from across southern Taresani. Even some of the Nimasthari nobility (or what was left of it after the greater number of its members were destroyed in the early years of the invasion) bowed before Kandirza and called him their Lord. In the northeastern lands of the Nimastha, the Turisatic Legion did not march, for there were not enough orcs to merit the journey, but the Thorns grew plentiful as they sought orcs across the plains, upon the Dhuzarl, or in the depths of the Dìreñog. Some grew wealthy, both in material goods and in fame, for their skill in destroying the invaders, and they became the heroes of lays and embellished folktales that spread across Taresani. To this day, their names are legendary: Dorykai the Fair, a woman who swore eternal vengeance against the orcs that raped her and, in defiance of Nimasthari custom, dressed as a man and slew a hundred orcs with her bare hands; Jàgil of Brashiv, a half-mad hunter who served the orcs he slew as feasts to the villagers under his protection, always assuring them that they merely ate venison; the Little Knife, a mysterious halfling whose features were perpetually obscured by the orc-skull which he had fashioned into a helmet, and who slew orcs by cutting their hamstrings and leaving them to slowly burn to death, as they had slain his caravan; and many others.

And of the Thorns, one achieved such fame that even Kandirza grew pale at the mention of his name: Sahun Dkarit. The younger brother of a Barinde and born in the full light of the two moons, Sahun was the most valorous and cunning of their number, who himself declared that he had slain over a thousand orcs in his life. His feats are each a tale in themselves, and his descendants treat their recounting as other people treat scripture. He garbed himself in the skinned hide and clothing of a drokne and led an entire raiding band into the waiting arrows of twenty fellow Thorns; he stole from a black dragon’s hoard and deceived the wyrm into thinking the orcs responsible; he disguised himself as a helpless woman before an orcish chieftain, and as the chieftain pulled down his leggings to rape “her,” Sahun disembowelled him with a hunter’s knife; and he fashioned a leather vest from the ears that he cut off of orcish heads, to name a few of his endeavours. The low people cheeringly proclaimed him to be Ñaorendhus, the righteous god of war, in human shape, while the orcs feared him alone among the hundreds of Thorns that hunted them. As the years passed, Sahun’s fame magnified, even as Kandirza Gemsari built his fortress of Tsrin and began rendering himself “King Kandirza” in his proclamations.

It became public knowledge that Sahun Dkarit spoke of House Gemsari with contempt, calling them debauched foreigners who only aided the Nimastha in order to enthrone themselves as their masters. Kandirza offered to meet Sahun in person and negotiate, but the Thorn rejected the outlander’s offer, suspecting treachery. As Kandirza’s proclamations began to reach beyond Tsrin and the Turisatic Legion and instead affect the Nimastha directly, Sahun and the Thorns that followed them travelled across the land, attempting to spark sedition against the outlander’s authority. However, in the lands nearest Tsrin, the natives disbelieved the tales of Sahun’s exploits, and they rejected him, for their protection had come not from Thorns, but from the disciplined legionaries that had served Kandirza Gemsari. Disgusted by their complacency and obedience towards the interloper, Sahun abandoned the southwestern Nimastha, instead riding northeast and renewing the war against what were left of the orcish bands.

In Free Year 19, just as Sahun sent out word that he had finally exterminated the orcs in the lands of the northeastern Nimastha, Kandirza declared the creation of the Kingdom of Utempe, consisting of all lands in Taresani south of the Veesat River and below the Nasvija Fells. At the same time, he was crowned King of Utempe, and placed a bounty upon the head of Sahun Dkarit, accusing him of “fomenting chaos and rebellion against House Gemsari.” Hunted by assassins who sought House Gemsari’s favour, its gold, or both, Sahun fled deep into the Dhuzarl Hills, alternately aided and tracked by the Thorns he had once known as comrades. Beyond the edge of civilisation, Sahun spent ten years surviving from game he hunted, occasionally seeking refuge in an elven village, at other times nestled in a hill cave. During his long exile, he befriended the elves that sheltered him, and in particular caught the eye of Iyergaîl, an unmarried young elven woman of one hundred and twenty-four years at the time of their first meeting in FY 21. He visited her often in her home village, learning of her people and of their own struggles against the orcs. Iyergaîl was much taken with Sahun’s tales of his days as a Thorn, and her admiration soon developed into affection. In the winter of FY 24, during a seasonal residence, Sahun asked the permission of Iyergaîl’s village to marry her, which they gladly granted to such a stalwart enemy of the orcs. He married her in an elven ceremony in the summer of that same year, and in the winter of FY 25, she gave birth to his first son, whom he gave a Nimasthari name: Dzumketri. Alternating between raising his son and visiting his wife during the cold months, and granting them the independence so vital to elves during the warm months, he would later say that those were the happiest years of his life. Iyergaîl gave birth to their second child, a daughter, in the spring of FY 29, and she was given a name in Ghiñêsraf: Sàŋyi. After a decade of his exile, however, Sahun’s joyous isolation was ended when he met three Nimasthari villagers hiding in the Dhuzarl Hills. He spoke to them kindly, and they recognised him as the fabled Thorn who had spoken against the Utempi reign. They told him of all that had transpired during his exile: the foundation of Paakirjä and the confrontation between the Lomrikyrateen and Kandirza, as well as the fact that Kandirza had grown far older in the space of ten years. Sahun was fascinated by this, and by news that the bounty on his head had been lifted out of the widespread assumption that he was long dead. But what drove him to action was the news that oppressive and heavy taxes hung upon the heads of the communities in the northeast due to their strong support for the presumed-deceased Thorn, and that the legionaries in the service of House Gemsari ran roughshod over the rustic Nimastha of the northeast, whom they regarded as ingrates due to their lack of support for House Gemsari.

The Summer Rising began in Smatämro of FY 29, while Iyergaîl remained with Sahun’s children in the Dìreñog Forest. Sahun Dkarit rode across the region, finding old friends and testing their loyalty by requesting that they join his cause. Raising his banner—the uplifted crescent of the ancient Nimastha—above the Curgab, he rapidly gathered an army with but one purpose: to shake off the chains of the Utempi reign, and to depose Kandirza Gemsari. The Nimastha of the northeast proclaimed him the Twice-Thorn: first against the orcs, second against the invader-king Kandirza. Sahun himself sought redress for the crimes he felt House Gemsari had committed against him, and he agitated the Nimasthari peoples to war. No single army unified behind Sahun Dkarit as the Turisatic Legion stood behind Kandirza. Rather, a confederation of tribes and former Thorns answered his call, attacking legionaries, sabotaging messengers in the service of the King of Utempe, and executing Utempi tax collectors. This Summer Rising quite abruptly ended when Kandirza sent out a peace offering to Sahun Dkarit, paying a ransom equivalent to the bounty offered for Sahun’s head a decade before, as well as offering all territories beyond the Qithnòrv Forest, the Kodhrap River, and the port of Cutha. Though Sahun had hoped that Kandirza would not relent and that he would have ultimately caused a great Nimasthari rebellion against the Gemsari reign, he wisely chose to agree to the King’s terms. Sahun, from the lands provided, created a new kingdom, which he named Saonedh, after his home village which had been destroyed by the orcs long ago. On Fourth Rigvarneu of Farudei, Free Year 29, Kandirza officially recognised the new kingdom of Saonedh, and the Summer Rising ended in truth.

Sahun established the city of Apedh, about the Curgab, as his capital, and was crowned in Virkoli Yatimturri. Establishing an economic system for Saonedh was his greatest challenge: though he wrote to the Lomrikyrateen of Paakirjä requesting food aid, he was pointedly ignored. Eventually, he chose to establish economic (though not diplomatic) relations with Utempe, bringing about considerable monetary gains from the sale of gems and pelts that are found in abundance in the Dhuzarl Hills. In FY 45, Sahun Dkarit finally died in earnest, at the age of sixty-eight. His descendants, rather than carry the surname “Dkarit”, honoured their ancestor by taking on his first name as their House name after his death. His half-elven son, Dzumketri, would hold the throne for the next eighty-two years before his abdication at the age of one hundred and two. During his long reign, Dzumketri married a Nimasthari noblewoman, Lranje of House Duulem, fathering two sons named Krasuci (FY 54 – 175) and Tsevar (FY 60 – 184). Following the line of succession, Krasuci married Zymarua of House Jecoi, and fathered one son, Ikrant (FY 77 – 175). After his father’s abdication, Krasuci gained the throne, which he held from 127 to 149 before abdicating at the age of ninety-five. Ikrant, by that time, was already seventy-two, and chose to abstain from taking up the White-Spear, instead passing the throne to his son by Bàsorle of House Inrunes, Taim (FY 110 – 181), who ruled for thirty-two years until his death. Taim himself did not marry, and instead the throne passed to the great-grandson of Tsevar, Urtibayn (FY 135 – present), who retains the White-Spear to the present.

Dzumketri and Krasuci led Saonedh well, ruling justly and often seeking the advice of Iyergaîl, who dwells in Apedh to this day. However, both abdicated long before true old age was upon them, out of distinct desires. Dzumketri, after having reigned for a human lifetime, was keenly aware of the fact that most outsiders identified him with the Saonedhi nation. At one hundred and two, he likely had at least another eighty years to live, and after two human lifetimes of direction by one man, the people of Saonedh would likely have been thrown into chaos when he finally died. Therefore, Dzumketri surrendered the throne to his son, Krasuci. Krasuci did not reign for nearly as long as his father, and abdicated after twenty-two years. The reason for his abdication was that he was, at heart, an artist, not a king, and he disliked the constant political manoeuvring required of him. Rather than continue an occupation for which he had a distaste, Krasuci renounced the throne and departed Apedh for the Dìreñog Forest, where he died twenty-six years later, a celebrated poet among the elves of his grandmother’s village. However, Taim was not so great a ruler as his predecessors. He was fascinated by the trappings of his station rather than its substance, and when it came to matters of state, he was notorious for “seeking the advice” of other noblemen that did not precisely have the nation’s best interest at heart. Furthermore, his long lifespan meant that such an incompetent reign lasted for thirty-two years before Taim finally died, having refused to abdicate to his deathbed. Urtibayn, the present King of Saonedh, has only a bare measure of Iyergaîl’s elven blood, and though he is not a fool like Taim, he simply lacks the same excellence that marked Sahun, Dzumketri, and Krasuci. He is growing old, and it remains to be seen if he will pass the White-Spear to his own son, or to some other member of House Sahun that is less expected.

Today, Saonedh is a backwater country, with few resources except the gemstones and pelts flowing from the Dhuzarl Hills which continue to draw Utempi merchants. Meanwhile, House Gemsari, the old enemy of Sahun Dkarit and his descendants, has become entrenched into Utempi society, and married into the Nimasthari population. Utempe is rich, while Saonedh is not. The Turisatic Legion is strong, while Saonedh lacks a unified military. The Utempi kings are strong and energetic, while Urtibayn simply maintains the nation more as a placeholder than a true king. As Utempe prepares for war, it remains to be seen how Saonedh will respond to this new threat. Perhaps House Sahun will manifest some new genius. More likely, though, House Gemsari will finally crush its old opponent, and regain the lands it lost in the Summer Rising long ago.

Military
When Sahun Dkarit first rebelled against the reign of Kandirza, he faced the highly disciplined and seasoned Turisatic Legion, established from both deserters from the Marnic Legions and recruited Nimasthari warriors. Rather than gather an army and face the Utempi legionaries directly on the field of battle (which would have been an ill-fated adventure), Sahun went forth and began instead warring with the tactics that he had learned as a Thorn. He recruited rebellious villagers, gathered former Thorns that had been his allies, and called for resistance from the Nimasthari nobility that were disloyal to the Marnics. Sahun’s followers fought the legionaries whenever they had the advantage, as in forest ambushes or under the cover of night, but pitched battles did not occur during the Summer Rising. After the Summer Rising abruptly ended, Sahun Dkarit made what could perhaps have been his only notable mistake: he chose not to establish a national military, instead leaving such matters to his vassals. Unlike Kandirza or the Lomriiskyrateen, Sahun lacked true military experience. He was an adventurer, not a soldier, and though he understood charisma and leading the people, tactical matters of the army seem to have been beyond him. Dzumketri, too, seems to have missed the critical point of establishing a national military. Certainly his father did not teach it to him, and his mother came from a people without any understanding of “armies.” Due to the lack of a unified military, each regional lord must establish his own group of warriors to protect his particular lands. The only soldiers that directly serve House Sahun are those that patrol the Curgab and Apedh, and they are all recruited from that same area. Most soldiers in Saonedh do not even wear uniforms, and are simply identified by the fact that they wear leather or scale armour and carry weaponry. Lacking a unified military, Saonedhi soldiers necessarily differ in tactics.

The worst aspect of the disunity of the military is that Saonedhi lords, as with those of Drecitou, sometimes go to war with one another. Drecitoun lords can afford that: it is permitted by the Fivefold Oath, and they are constrained by the King to unite and forget their grievances in the event of external threats. However, internal conflict in Saonedh is extremely damaging to both its stability and its relationship with Utempe. Merchants and the low people are protected by law from being attacked, yet some Utempi traders will inevitably be discouraged from entering Saonedh if the lords about the main highway are using it to move cavalry. Furthermore, if the ostensible vassals of House Sahun are so consumed with warring with one another than with the possible threat of Utempi invasion, King Hauraza of Utempe could easily take advantage of that by using internal conflicts in Saonedh to form alliances with treacherous Saonedhi lords. The Paakirjäni, naturally, regard the civil wars of Saonedh with contempt: they could easily overwhelm Saonedh in a year, if they wished it. Though King Urtibayn has expressed a wish for greater internal unity in Saonedh, how he means to attain that is a mystery. Blood feuds have become well-established between the various noblemen of Saonedh, and the government simply lacks the revenue to recruit entirely new military forces. It would take nothing short of military genius—which Urtibayn clearly lacks—to anneal the recalcitrant Saonedhi lords to House Sahun’s purposes. However, there remains another possibility that could save Saonedh from defeat. If a charismatic leader could utilise Sahun’s tactics of multifarious insurgent war against the Utempi invaders, there is a distinct chance that it could confound the legionaries quite effectively. After all, such tactics were used during the first war against the legionaries, and it decisively led to Sahun Dkarit’s victory and his establishment of the kingdom. To use such tactics would necessarily involve resolving the blood feuds and petty grievances between the Saonedhi noblemen in the face of Utempe’s greater threat. However, the chances of achieving this are slim. House Gemsari has long since lost its reputation as the malign family of decadent foreigners scheming to enslave the Nimastha, as it has proved itself instead to be a fair and just body that has brought great prosperity to its subjects. The most likely course of events will be Utempe’s eventual, and absolute, defeat of Sahun Dkarit’s descendants.

The Kings of Saonedh
I.	Sahun Dkarit, r. FY 29 to 45. II. Dzumketri of House Sahun, r. 45 to 127 (abdicated). III. Krasuci, r. 127 to 149 (abdicated). IV. Taim, r. 149 to 181. V.	Urtibayn, r. 181 to present (198).