History, as told in the Holy Alliance of Ysval

Ysval is a nation born of guilt, which accounts for their fervent piety. It was forged by survival, which gave it a sense of community. It was built around bonfires, which made it love the light.

Founded by bereaved war refugees, in time it grew into a stout, expanding community, which withstood centuries of conflict and hardships to become a beacon of hope in the cold night.

The Exile
The youngest realm of Valerna, Ysval only came to be after the First Null War, when misguided dragonbonded began a cult to the Null and unleashed destructive forces into the world. After the Null was stopped thanks to the sacrifice of many dragonbonded, and of the Dragonbond itself, its worshippers were hunted down across Valerna, their cabals purged and their members banished or executed in every city and every realm.

A caravan of survivors of these purges, a sorry group of former cultists with shattered faith and broken dreams, fled to the North, which remained practically unsettled and uncivilized at the time. They established precarious settlements, barely protected from the cold and the wilderness, with no hope of survival. Yet survive they did, perhaps by a hidden wish to live, buried under all the self-loathing, or by the simple, stoic realization that they could not fall further. Whatever the reason, they were able to erect some farmsteads, even build families, and soon the rumor spread among other cultist survivors - there was a community in the North where their kind could stay safe. Other caravans followed, and soon the exiled built a society, which gradually turned the harsh winterlands into an environment fit for human life. There, these survivors of the Null War remained secluded, hidden not only from the Valernians’ vengeance, but also from their own guilt - for not even the cultists had realized just how destructive their crusade would be, how harmful for the world. They were frightened for their lives, surprised by their defeat, and shocked by their own deeds - but most of all, thankful for their survival despite everything. They turned to a simple life, a daily struggle for survival in the harsh north, and strove to forget their faith, their fanaticism of the past, and look forward, to rely on each other, for it was the only way to stay alive.

During these first years, the settlements had no common name or unified identity; in fact, they avoided adopting one, for their only binding thread had been their rejected, dark faith. Many homes and villages disappeared after a sudden famine, or a surprise attack by Hymr giants from the Fogwood. But some settlements withstood their trials, and grew into small dock towns; small and scattered, but stubbornly clinging to life.

Ysval
The largest town of this first era, which gradually gathered and absorbed dozens of families, farms and fishing clans, was called Ysval, ‘the Blessed Dale’ in the local dialect. While all settlements had been ruled by town councils and family heads, Ysval appointed an overlord, known as a Duk, which would mediate disputes between clan leaders and allow the towns to work together. The first Duk was Hallan of Ilden, a respected neighbor, who had been but a boy during the exile from the Null Wars. He had seen his people grow from lost outcasts to prosperous settlers, and he shared this sense of accomplishment with the other clan heads, galvanizing them into one proud, hopeful community.

Hallan’s tenure was short lived - he was already nearing seventy when he assumed leadership - and he did little to enforce any authority; most of his rule consisted of visiting towns and checking for everybody’s welfare. His most important contribution to Ysval’s history was his peace mission into the Fogwood, in which he personally led a group of farmers and their families, to show their open hands to the Hmyr giants and ask them to leave the settlements alone. Most Hmyr clans were impressed and moved by the Ysvalians’ straight approach and daring openness, and some even promised to help them settle the frozen lands. By the giants’ source magic, the hard soil became fertile ground, and precarious townships grew stable and peaceful. In return, humans gave smithing, advanced farming and other tools to the giants, who didn’t really need such things but respected the smaller people’s fairness and hard-working disposition.

Of course, some Hmyr clans rejected the alliance, particularly the Greygoats of the upper Fogwood, and still raided the most isolated towns. But other towns managed to grow almost as large as Ysval, and they remembered it had been Ysval which pacified the North and made the truce with the Hmyr. Thus, they began to look up to Ysval as their senior city; the leader of their unofficial confederation.

Thus the former ramshackle communities truly grew into a healthy, unified region; and when Hallan of Ilden died, loved and respected by five generations of descendants and a dozen towns under his rule, he left behind a legacy of blossoming towns, expanding families, and a burgeoning realm.

Farming and Fishing
Ysval’s first civilization, before the soil became friendlier and farming easier, had revolved around fishing, and virtually all settlements in the region stood near the Dreamsea. After the alliance with the Hmyr, most farming settlements continued their reliance on fishing and seafaring, and the first Ysvalian farmers remained accomplished sailors. While irrigation and seeding allowed the Alliance to expand inland, the economy flourished in the coast, and the realm made its first contact with Allarian and Náhuinn traders. Rumors began spreading about the sea peoples of the North, which gladly traded in fish, logging and surprisingly abundant farm produce, with anyone.

Ysvalians also retained their appreciation for the bonfire, the gathering of neighbors and warm camaraderie in the cold night. All this, added to the simple lifestyle and the humble prosperity, attracted the first pint halfling immigrants, which had lived as nomadic artisans since their appearance in the Dreambleed. Ysval was, for the first time, a place where pints could stay and remain, which would appreciate their gift for simple, well-made tools, and for modest yet mouth-watering dishes.

The quiet and sudden proliferation of pint communities and businesses all across the realm led to an unnoticed, dramatic shift in Ysvalian culture. The plain joy of halfling food and hospitality, the comfort of their supplies, and their very presence, reshaped the people’s values and expectations from city street to farmstead. Now, the reward for hard work went beyond company and satisfaction - there was good food and simple, little pleasures waiting afterwards. Pints eased the workload with their caring toolcraft, and inspired the heart with their delicious cuisine. Soon, no Ysvalian remained who could remember, or even imagine, a life without the pints.

Still, not all contact with new peoples could be expected to benefit the realm. Sikaria, the realm of the Blue Elves, had risen in the Northern Sea only a few decades before Ysval, and their experiments with marine life had bred terrible monsters that threatened Ysvalian fishing and in fact affected the ocean’s natural balance itself. Ysvalians knew these sea monsters collectively as ‘whales’, for they resembled actual whales in size, and became adept at hunting them to protect their shores, their sailors and their very livelihood. During this time, whalers became as common, and as necessary, as farmers and soldiers; more so when pint kitchen-masters found ways to use whale meat, grease and oils, and even their scales, to create new tools, armor, and unheard-of delicacies.

Galadyn
During the realm’s first decades of existence, people of the Alliance had prided themselves on their rejection of organized faith. They had seen their own cult come close to destroying the world, and had endured the consequences of fanaticism after their defeat, their hearts left bare, with a gaping void where their faith had once stood. The new realm had left religion far behind, and good riddance. Still, they came from believers, even if they had reneged from their faith; and their culture had been founded by pious people. They had been raised for worship and devotion, even if they had been taught no faith to devote themselves to.

At first, Ysvalians focused their piety on fellowship, demanding an almost religious dedication to cooperation and community service. A pious individual, a blessed individual, was one that would stay humble, toil the fields, check on their neighbors and open their home for guests at dinnertime.

The whaler captain Galadyn of Hyrda, a simple sailor from a fishing town near Ysval city, was one such individual; a simple community man, pious and dutiful. He had no family, and when not on a sea voyage he kept to his small hut on the coast; living by himself, but providing assistance to anyone that asked for it. He remained just as gentle and unassuming as captain of the whaler ship Skylight, with which he hunted sea monsters during five moons out of each year. He remained humble as he returned home with stores of meat, scales, bone and fat for trade, and having made the seas that much safer for his people.

One day, the Skylight was chasing a particularly cunning and large creature, now remembered as Firewake, which had led Galadyn’s ship out of all known or safe waters. Finally within sight of the monster after weeks in pursuit, Galadyn ordered his whaling boat lowered, and set to the hunt with his five most trusted crewmembers. But right as they readied their harpoons for a first volley, a storm unleashed upon the seas - one that surprised everyone, for there had been no sign, no single warning of it. The sky went dark in an instant, and the seas became an ominous pass of rising and falling water walls. Unfazed by the weather, Firewake took advantage of the storm to ram and capsize the Skylight, and Galadyn was forced to watch as his ship was lost below the massive waves. Then his own small boat was thrown into the air, and he was plunged into the lightless depths.

When Galadyn came to, he lay on the coast between the Dornat and Ysval dukedoms. The five crew that had been with him on his doomed boat lay by him, all alive, impossibly delivered from the swallowing storm and brought to dry land, hundreds of leagues from their shipwreck. He couldn’t understand what had happened, but his crew all remembered - he had saved them. They all had distinct memories of their captain swimming to keep them afloat, keeping them alive and warm with a strange, inner light, as they drifted to the land. Galadyn remembered none of it.

After the loss of the Skylight, Galadyn turned to a wandering life, as far from the coast as possible, trading in manure for farming towns inland. He remained humble, denying the miraculous rescue story, but also willing to help anyone that asked. And as he visited town after town, he discovered he did have some kind of healing power; sick children got better much faster than possible, wounds closed at a single, accidental brush with his hands. Galadyn’s manure cart became a welcome sight everywhere, and then a legend; and a few townspeople chose to leave their homes behind and walk behind him. Galadyn had asked for no followers, but those that traveled in his wake started displaying light powers similar to his. The blessing of healing and protection spread, just like Galadyn’s contagious devotion to assisting others.

The Temple of Light Era
By the time of his death, Galadyn’s cult numbered in the hundreds, and they worshipped him as a Saint. The five crewmembers he had rescued from the storm, known henceforth as the Delivered Five, built a church around his life and teachings - even though he had never taught anyone - and wrote his thoughts and miracles in a tome, known as the Book of Galadyn. Thus came the Galadyan Temple of Light, and the Five imparted the knowledge of inner light upon those devout enough to continue Galadyn’s work.

Galadyan miracles seemed like a confirmation of Ysvalian values: they proved that devotion to community did bring actual, manifest power. Everyone in the realm adopted the Galadyan faith, and the Temple reached every town and city, becoming the official religion, philosophy and law of the Realm, which changed its name to the Holy Alliance of Ysval.

In many ways, the Galadyan faith wasn’t a change but a continuation of Ysvalian culture, the next step of the realm’s piety, its religious dedication to community. The Temple’s most important contribution was not a new or different philosophy, or even the confirmation that it could manifest into actual magic power. It was the possibility of sharing that power, of healing people, of carrying magic light from town to town, and even teaching others the ability to use the light in turn.

Soon, there were Galadyan priests in every town, imparting the blessings and comfort of light magic upon their neighbors, and teaching Galadyn’s sacred tenets to the people. What Ysvalians had once done out of necessity or survival, they now did out of Galadyan fervor.

The reborn Holy Alliance established five great temples of Galadyn, one in each of the five largest towns in the realms, each representing one of the Delivered Five. Thus, the realm was likened to that crew, which had been rescued from the raging storm, from the cold abyss, by Galadyn’s selfless light. The Five Cities became the new structure of the realm, and their dukedoms took political and economic responsibility over every other town and farm in the realm.

To protect the new Alliance, the Temple organized the first knightly orders - elite fighting societies, consisting of chosen warriors with some affinity to the holy light. Each city had its own regiment of knights, which drew away wild monsters, made the roads safe, kept crime to a minimum and guarded their people from invasion. Under the protection of the knights and the guidance of the Temple, the realm ushered into a new era of seemingly unending peace and blessings.

The Blood Geas
But to the East, the Tyverian Empire loomed. It had already been grand and powerful by the time the first Ysvalian settlers lighted their first fires in the frozen coast, and now that the Alliance had grown rich and prosperous, the Empire turned its sights West. The Blood Empress was nearing the end of her rule and her life, and wished to regale her subjects with a war of conquest as her parting legacy.

A bloody conflict ensued, Tyveria longing for the fertile lands to the northwest, Ysval desperate to defend its home against this hungry onslaught. But what the Blood Empire had perceived as a small, primitive speck of a nation, turned out to be much more. The power of Galadyan Light was a surprising match for blood sorcery, and Ysvalian teamwork contained Tyverian ferocity. What should have been a quick and easy victory threatened to become a drawn-out, tiresome war of attrition. Tyveria could not abide such a stagnant conflict, and the Blood Empress admitted defeat of a sort - retreating from Ysvalian territory forever in return for a tribute in human lives. The Alliance, knowing it was the weaker side in this war, agreed to the terms; but it was a harsh blow, and the bitterest of victories.

The agreement, known from that point on as the Blood Geas, established peace and cooperation between Ysval and Tyveria, in return for Ysval sending the third child of each family to live in the Empire as a blood serf to the maghyri. Thousands of parents cried for their children, forcibly taken to be raised as Tyverian subjects, never to return home. The first decade after the war is still remembered as the River of Tears, on account of the endless stream of children and youths being sent to work in the Empire. Ysval could not reject it; it was enforced by a blood pact between the Blood Empress and the Duks of the Five Cities, and powerful magic ensured compliance.

The Blood Empress died shortly afterward, her successors far weaker and less fearsome than her; Ysvalian families began to have less children, and the River of Tears slowed down to a trickle. Yet the Blood Geas remained in effect, an eternal reminder of humiliation and defeat for the otherwise proud and happy Alliance. The Ysvalian population drastically dwindled, as no family dared have more than two kids. But every so often, a third child was born whose parents could not hide from Tyverian collectors, and the old wound bled again. It never fully closed.

Return of the Dragonbonded
The centuries after the Blood Geas were a numb, mourning time for Ysval. The prosperous community went on, with little to trouble it beyond the sudden reduction of its numbers and the pain of the Blood Geas. Pints kept on steadily providing hope and small joys to their neighbors. Hmyr retreated to their hills and woodlands, coming to Ysval’s aid only when called or sought. The Alliance saw little war, its knights clashing with snow orcs from the Frozen Wastes or highwaymen in the lawless borders, and keeping hmyr raiders and Nwoda pirates at bay. Time passed measured in Red Moons, with dragon attacks being the only thing that reminded Ysvalians of their former, overriding struggle to survive. Whaling and dragon defense became the most dangerous, noblest callings of a people that did not know what to do with its hard-earned peace, alongside a loss so overwhelming that the light failed to heal it.

The Temple of Light, having no greater threats to rally the people against, focused on domestic policing, and began watching over the neighbors’ shoulders and judging their individual devotion. Some thought the Alliance had stagnated, and moved for a change of leadership; minor clashes among Duks, or between a Duk and their Yrls, became increasingly common as the decades went by. The Knights of the Raven, one of the most active orders because of its closeness to the deadly Frozen Wastes border, maintained that the Alliance had grown complacent and hypocritical, and even spoke against the Holy Temple. Two small rebellions were easily quelled by other orders, but the unease spread.

Then, during the Last Red Moon, some Ysvalians established dragonbonds.

It was the jolt that Ysvalian society had been needing for centuries; unexpected, inspiring, and yet so ominous because of its association with the Null. Some pessimistic priests warned that it was not good news in the least; but the people still cheered when Oryan, the eldest son of beloved Holy Duk Ysea, flew over the Alliance on a mighty dragon’s back. Nobody could put their finger on it, but there was a feeling of elation, of a new beginning. Then of course it was revealed that the Null was in fact behind it, and all Ysvalian dragonbonded joined others like them to stop a new Null invasion. Oryan distinguished himself among those dragonbonded that fought and defeated the Second Null Invasion, and he became the leader of the new Dragonbonded Covenant, to the delight of all Ysvalians, and to the chagrin of some who wanted him to succeed Ysea as Holy Duk.

The Cracking of the Alliance
Despite his detachment from Ysvalian politics, Oryan proved to indeed be the new injection of life and hope everyone was expecting. It became known that he’d been secretly helping Ysvalian blood serfs to escape Tyveria and return home clandestinely for decades; now, as the new dragonbond changed the face of realms and relationships across Valerna, he tried to ride the wave of change and openly renegotiate the Blood Geas.

The new Blood Emperor rejected his plea, but Oryan didn’t falter, and sought to solve the matter on his own. He and his old friend, the Raven knight Sergyan of Mord, used a powerful spell, binding the strength of a Nullborn creature through their light powers, and using it to break the magic that enforced the Blood Geas. Most saw Oryan as a hero for this, even the greatest hero in the history of the Alliance; but many others saw him as a traitor, using Null magic, breaking a centuries-old lawful pact, and risking war for it. Oryan was ready for these accusations, and for the guilt that he himself felt about his actions. But he was not ready for his friend’s betrayal.

During their mission, Oryan discovered that Sergyan had gradually moved the Raven Knights across the border for decades, forming a new pact with the alliance’s oldest enemies - the snow orcs and Sjóda dwarves from the frozen wastes. They called his new alliance the Gellanor League, intending to make it into a single, truly united power in the Northerlands. And they had built it behind the Alliance’s back for a half century. In fact, Sergyan had only agreed to help Oryan break the Geas in the hopes that Tyveria would go to war for it, allowing Gellanor to take the Alliance unaware, clear out the decadent Temple of Light and take over Ysval with their new friends.

As Oryan returned, haunted by the events he had set in motion, Ysvalian society was shocked by the loss of the Raven Knights, and the first schism in Alliance history. The Holy Duk quickly ordered the wandering Reinknight order sent to man the city of Vaden, securing Ysval’s last bastion in the border with the newly founded Gellanor League. But there had never been such division among the Five Cities, at least not on this scale. The people, long numbed by peace and used to the bereavement of the Blood Geas, saw its end not with relief, but with fear. For the first time in centuries, they questioned their own unity. New dissident voices arose, not openly against the Temple or the Duks, but indeed calling them to review their ways and search within their own hearts. Had the path of the Alliance been the right one? How had this happened?

And what everyone feared the most was indeed true: the maghyri realized the Blood Geas was broken.

Tyveria was coming.

War of the North
It was the worst time in the history of Ysval. It claimed more lives than the first Tyverian invasion, proved more destructive than any Red Moon, and it led to the breaking of the Alliance. And it all was born of the noblest, purest intentions.

With the Blood Geas broken, the Tyverian Emperor had no choice but to invade Ysval, under pressure of the maghyr houses, which already were mostly against his rule. Approached by Sergyan of the Ravens, and his son, General Siegard, Tyveria entered a pact with the Gellanor League, agreeing to hold Ysval between two fronts. Allaria came to the help of its Northern friend, which helped Gellanor to convince Sikarian mercenaries to join their invasion. Vampyri and ogerron marched into Ysval from the east. The North border was overrun with snow orcs and frost dwarves under the raven knights’ command. Sikarian deepships, and their trained monsters, engaged Allai sailors, gnomish warships and Ellari wizards at sea. Thus the War of the North began.

It had mostly two scenarios; the North Front, where Ysval itself stood against the combined Tyverian and Gellan invasion, and the Sea Front, intended mostly to distract and delay Allarian fleets from reaching Ysvalian coasts through the Dreamsea.

The North Front was a resounding defeat for Ysval, which in less than one season was ready to yield to the combined forces of their enemies; having taken Dukke and Vaden, Tyveria sent a letter, demanding Ysea surrender the territories already conquered, and establish a renewed, stronger Blood Geas with the new Emperor. It only required Ysea’s signature. Some witnesses and envoys still maintain she considered signing the letter. But Oryan and a few valiant troops, led by General Odrim of the Kite Knights, had infiltrated and retaken the city of Vaden, holding the Raven Knight leaders hostage. Lord Sergyan allowed himself to be caught to allow his son, Siegard, to escape back into Gellanor. Meanwhile, Reia the Kindler and her militia stopped Gellanor’s invasion of Armme, turning the combined Sjóda and Orlar forces away with a dazzling Galadyan spell, when the city’s Knights had already been defeated. Their leadership hostage, their onslaught forced back, Gellanor was ready to offer a truce. But Siegard rallied his people on the other side of the border, leading the armies of the Frozen Wastes into a desperate offensive to rescue Lord Sergyan and lay waste to the Alliance. Oryan confronted Sergyan, offering his freedom and friendship back, and the two companions agreed to ride to meet Siegard and stop this senseless war.

What none of them realized was that Allaria had managed to break through the Sikarian blockade, and qirin wardens started pouring into the battlefields, forcing both sides to stop fighting. The Dragon Queen herself met with the Blood Emperor and forced him to negotiate peace with Ysval, letting him know war with the North meant war with the West, too. The Blood Emperor held quick conference with Holy Duk Ysea, agreeing to retreat in return for a pardon for the city of Dukke and its Aurox Knights, which had already been talked into joining the Empire. Ysea agreed to these much more reasonable terms, and Tyveria began retreating from Ysval. But then Siegard’s forces crashed through the border, striking at the Tyverian army in outrage for its betrayal; this made the Blood Emperor turn on his former allies, setting upon them the forces he had mustered against Ysval.

With Tyveria’s about-face, Gellanor had no chance of victory. The last engagement of the North War, the Battle of the Redfrost, saw Siegard’s forces caught in a pincer between Ysvalian defenders and Tyverian troops. Siegard himself would have died in the battle, were not for Oryan and Sergyan, who confronted the Blood Emperor at the last moment. He agreed to retire Tyveria, but killed Sergyan during the fight. This was the last blow of the war, and the army of Gellanor retreated back into the Frozen Wastes, humiliated, swearing eternal vengeance against both Tyveria and Ysval.

A Wavering Flame
After the war, Ysval was weaker than ever, struggling to pick up the pieces. Victory had come at a great cost. The Raven Knights had seceded from the Alliance forever; the tribes from the Frozen Wastes had united under the single, threatening banner of the Gellanor League; and the city of Dukke, with its Aurox Knights, had defected to Tyveria. Not to mention the thousands of Ysvalians dead during the conflict. And then, great plague spread across Ysval the following year, as its lakes and riverbeds had become thick with rotting bodies. Again, only the strength and stalwart stubborness of the Holy Temple saved the Alliance in the war’s aftermath.

But even the Temple had been wounded this time, with voices rising against its absolute control of Ysvalian life after the loss of Dukke and the Ravens. Dissident priests called for a new Temple, and new ways to read the Book. Traditionalists chose to harden their stance, becoming stricter than ever.

Oryan left the Alliance, his actions mostly honored, but reviled by some, to become the Magister of the Dragonbonded Covenant. Ysea declared her intentions to propose her adopted daughter, Yali Yssenda, as a candidate to succeed her, once the girl comes of age. Many fear this will further destabilize the Alliance.

Yet, despite the doubt and difficulties, or perhaps because of them, Ysval has never been more focused or unyielding. The community stands, the people endure, despite the worst two years in memory. The Blood Geas is broken. The lost Ysvalian children are returning. Now, more than ever, Ysval is a land of promise, of struggle against hardship; a lone beacon of light in the bleak winter.