[CrownClown]

The Holdfast of Venturian's First Tear Introduction   Ye Seasonal Queens who reign over Caer Sidis, take note of these words: We, the Alvirs, have made these mountains, covered by the perpetual blanket of snow, our abode and stronghold since the dawn of time and from here we record the history already forgotten by many, and we will do so until our last breath, until the last beat resounds in our hearts. Don't take us for naive, but don't take us for malicious either, we are like the indigo eagle that flies over our house: gentle with friends and implacable with enemies. Our city is named after the noble ancestor of our race, Venturian, the Bringer of Frost, long gone with his dragon brethren. We are surrounded by high walls, so white that they seem to glow even during a blizzard, even if much of what once boasted opulent glory has become cemeteries and ruins where evil lurks and the dead roam in eternal suffering. Our forges burn day and night, our skill in the art of creating magical artifacts is unparalleled, and our hammer is unerring. As the sun rises day after day, we fight the abominations created by the miasma, that rise from the tomb of Karmadul, The Cursed, and contaminate the mountain beasts, our blood welling up for our pride and the sake of Caer Sidi.      Government So that our descendants can see the light of tomorrow, the most venerable elders of the city form a council and jointly rule our people for ten years, when a new council is formed. Even after the end of their duty, elders carry the title of Sages with them. Every year at the end of the Festival of the Firmament, they renew their vows before the citizens and mark the Stele of Promise with their blood so that the flame of hope is kept alive, and they do not fall into the ruse of evil and corruption. About us We, the Alvir, or snow elves, as the outsiders call us, were created from the icy breath of Venturian, that we might endure the biting cold, though the heat drains our strength; our hair is white and soft, like the silk of the weaver spider, our eyes are the color of amber and perfect for the dark of the long winter, our arms are covered in delicate jade scales. As a race we are united, and we value family and friends. For us loyalty, honor, friendship and courage are inalienable virtues. We love good food and good wine, we call a good host a brother. The numbers of Venturian   55.570 Alvir 2.520   Humans     To this day, Venturian holds 58,090 souls.  The goods of Venturian Natural goods Moonlight Silver (resource for magical reagent) = 1 point Gold                                     = 1 point Iron Ore                               = 1 point Gems                                   = 1 point Processed goods Metalworking = 2 points Magical Reagents = 2 points The frigid mountain air has long punished us, limiting our livestock and crops. So we have lived on the blessings that the mountain gives us: from the gold that moves the world's gears to moonlight silver, similar to what the peoples of the plains know as mercury, whose quality as a magical reagent allows us to create magical items, which we trade with the people of the plains in exchange for supplies. From time to time, the land presents us with good quality gems, as if the Venturian spirit still watches over us. Darkness constantly knocks at our doors and there is little time to unravel the mysteries of the arcane, but in these difficult times our masterpiece flourishes, in the runes we deposit our effort, each rune carries with it the intention of its forger and, being engraved with the moonlight silver, those inexperienced can wield the power needed to overwhelm their enemies if able to satisfy the runes' thirst for mana, that will slowly destroy them, rendering them useless. You will notice on the seal of this parchment the rune so that only Your Majesty can read these words. Final considerations We swear by our future to never kneel before anyone but our patriarch Venturian, but we await your consideration, sending this unofficial application so that our bonds become strong, so that we survive the dark cloak that will once again be thrown over us. May the mighty winter bring upon you a fruitful spring. Sincerely Balvuir il Kanul, chief scribe on behalf of the Council of Venturian's Last Tear