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09-16-2020, 03:15 PM
ad parvenu
FIRST SUMMER, REFUGE
The first days in a wild new land were not pleasant for the desolated remains of Humanity, but they were alive when so many others were not, and that was an outcome better than any had hoped for. So it was that the first days of the first summer of a new era were squandered in the wilds of green fields and fruitful forests, faltering in shock, grief, and awe. Despite being such a practically minded people, their experiences in the final days of their homeworld had grayed them, stained their proud craft and easy vigor with the marring shadows of loss and humiliation, and rendered them derelict vagabonds lacking a hearth or purpose.
Then came the Fomorians, a light patrol hunting the elusive Sídhe native to the area. They collided with a group of stricken Human survivors that had wandered farther afield than most, and slaughtered them to the last. One of the Fey Sídhe witnessed the attack, and their guilt from evading their hunters and thus leading them instead into the newcomer's camp brought the light elfin being straight to the Queens' camp, drawing bewildered wary looks from all who saw their passing. For all their extensive diversity, Humans had been the lone intelligent species on Syvisa, and meeting another in this new Warren had been a wildly unexpected event. Fey magic established communication, and Human ingenuity established an alliance. This new threat brought about the unity and cohesion the refugees much needed, and gave the Diarchy it's first solid cause. The remains of the old world's army became the basis for the Summer and Winter Clans, their ranks filled first by experienced regiments and then by impassioned militias, divided into the personal guards of the Seasonal Queens. The hidden Sídhe villages became scouts and informants, their people still reluctant and wary but swayed by silvertongues and the sheer size of the assembling armies.
Finally came the refounding of the Bridger Guild, a much renowned hall of the best Human architects and engineers, from masons to carpenters. Following it was the Braid Guild, harvesters split into subsets of foresters, farmers, and miners. Brilliant marble towers and high stone walls began to rise, streets paved by excess rock and tall homes made to shine replaced the weary rundown camps and tents. A fervent efficiency displayed itself as Humanity affirmed its reputation as the builders and makers of Caer Sidi.
The christening of their city, the First and Last Bastion, formalized the Diarchy and it's constitution in the new state simply known as 'The Queensland.'
carpe diem
CROWN OF THORNS
Since its founding Bastion has not ceased growing, it's citizens now counting the elegant Sídhe among their number, and travelers and envoys from the scattered holds too. New Guilds and enclaves have been established, and the towers have grown taller, looking like javelins aimed to the heavens, and the streets busier, as if rivers of people crisscross the city rather than stone roads. Bastion shows little sign of it's immense stress, being a city at the center of a war straining it's resources, but the proficiency and determination of its people paint a picture of industry and power rather than the hints of grim desperation found elsewhere.
At the center, noted as having the tallest spires, is the palace, run almost entirely by elected officials, those members of government chosen by the people, as only rarely do the Queens come away from their studies or the fronts long enough to do any ruling from the throne rather than by proxy from the field. Further out are the inner walls, protecting the interior of the city, mostly the larger housing structures, barracks, and guild halls. At the edges of the city the outer walls stretch from sea-front to sea-front, walling in the lower set homes, plazas, and markets, as well as the harbors and dockyards.
Thousands of years of the best parts of Human civilization has been pooled into this one city, resulting in the finest planned settlement in the world. Here there are choke points for every sort of breach, the best designs against sieges, the most secure and even dispersal of emergency supply caches and shelters, and incalculable secret tunnels and hidden paths. It is inconceivable that Bastion would ever be conquered, or even threatened, but even if it were this city would never be a death trap as so many Syvisan cities had become in the final days before the fall.
rigor ferrous
BULWARK OF ARGENTINE
Some form of steel, or silver, or the fabled mithril perhaps, the Sídhe brew a strong and shiny metal called dArgatnél, meaning of silver-cloud, enchanted and forged to an excellence beyond Human ability to match. Argentine, as it has come to be known, now paints the walls of Bastion. At last having freedom of space and time to call their own, the Sídhe pay their gratitude in this precious metal as much as in combat and intelligence.
Their refined tastes and shimmering enchantments complement Human construction in all the best ways, making the city seem to glow in daylight without sacrificing an inch of functionality. Bewitched wells and aqueducts pull fresh clean water into the city, and lush fruit trees line the streets with flowery breezes and juicy snacks. Delicate shapeshifting avians called hedgewings, or just hedges, have served the Sídhe for centuries, and are trained to carry messages far and wide, now lending their service to the Diarchy as well as their original handlers.
