SERVALON

♕ The Kingdom of Servalon – a realm thriving on the pulse of commerce and the skill of the artisan's hand. It sprawls along the eastern coast, where the warm sea breeze mingles with the chill of mountain vales.
Its climate is mild, yet its skies are oft draped in mantle of grey, and morning mists shroud its streets and castle towers like a veil of secrets. The wars of old have long since faded into whispers, and peace reigns throughout the kingdom, yet restlessness lingers within the palace walls.

Servalon is renowned not only for the might of its mages and their arcane arts, but for the genius of its craftsmen.
Here, they forge automatic gates, water-lifts for great ships, and intricate mechanisms that operate at the crossroads of magic, alchemy, physics, and chemistry.
Many already call it "The New Epoch of Craft". For over eight centuries, Servalon has been guided by an ancient dynasty; its crown passing from father to son.

─── WORLD RULES ───

The Magic:

In Servalon, magic is a fact of life - witches, warlocks, and others touched by the gift walk among the people. Yet, its practice is held in a firm grip by the Crown.
All who are gifted must be entered into the Royal Ledger and are bound to serve the law, requiring a royal charter to wield their abilities. Any clandestine sorcery, the concealment of one's power from the authorities, or turning that force against the interests of the Kingdom is considered high treason.
The punishment is severe: public execution, a grim reminder to all that magic exists to serve the throne, never the other way around.

The Castle:

The Heart of Servalon is it’s Castle, the fortress that rises from the earth like a stone leviathan frozen in time. Its architecture is of a severe Gothic character: soaring arches, lancet windows filled with stained glass of sombre hues, and endless stone galleries woven through with ivy.

The inner court is embraced by arcades and gardens, centred around a fountain from which water ever streams. By night, the mists descend upon the court, and it seems as if the very castle floats adrift amongst the clouds. Deeper still, behind sealed doors, lie the dungeons and secret passages that lead to ancient halls and forgotten catacombs.

The Сastle's chief inhabitants are the King himself and his Three Sons, the monarch's right hand, the families of the feudal lords, knights and men-at-arms, a host of servants, the High Priest, and consorts from the harem, whose voices and laughter occasionally breathe a fleeting vivacity into the stone-sober chambers.

The Village:

A short way from the castle, on a level stretch of land where the fields meet the wood, lies the village. Here dwell the common folk of the realm: peasants till the soil, traders bring life to the bustling market, and craftsmen shape tools, trinkets, and the wares of daily life.

In the morning, the village is filled with the scent of fresh-baked bread and the hum of voices. Children play by the wells and barns, while the elders exchange news on the common green. As evening falls, the folk gather by their hearths or in the square, sharing tales and songs, sometimes visited by travelling merchants or storytellers.

Though their lives are simple, the village is the very soul of the community. Here, they hold to the old virtues: hard work, warm hospitality, and a neighbourly hand, knowing well that their labour is the foundation upon which Servalon's prosperity is built.

The Slavery:

In Servalon, the blight of Slavery endures — a curse upon the common folk, yet a boon to the Crown. The trade in human chattel took root here more than five centuries ago and has since woven itself into the very fabric of the realm's economy. Those who find themselves in chains are most often the destitute, sold to settle debts;
the descendants of conquered peoples; those born into bondage; convicted criminals; and the more unruly of the beast-folk. Men are put to work in the mines, in construction, and at other gruelling labours. Enslaved women serve in the castles and manor houses of the nobility as weavers, scullions, and cooks.

Slavery is a matter seldom spoken of in polite company. To some, it is the foundation of their wealth and a guarantor of order. To others, it is a symbol of shame and suffering—a dark shadow cast across the kingdom's gleaming countenance.

The King’s Harem:

It was a desperate gambit, a means to lose Himself and fill the void left by the Queen's passing. The harem housed more than thirty women — mostly human, with a sprinkling of elf-blood and half-breeds for exotic charm.
Each was chosen for her beauty and some singular talent. Its security was paramount: none but the King, his sons, and the serving maids were permitted entry.

These women were known as the Consorts of the Rose. They lived in gilded comfort, draped in the finest silks, feasting on delicacies, and occupying their days with private concerts and revels.
They held no sway in the political machinations of the realm; their purpose was simply to delight the eye and soothe the ear.

Yet The King's Harem had long since lost its original function. The King did not take them to his bed, nor seek romance in their company. His heart remained steadfastly faithful to the memory of his late wife. The consorts merely sang for him, danced, or recited poetry — faint echoes of a time when he still remembered how to smile.
To the King, the harem was little more than a collection of living treasures, a diversion for a weary mind. On rare occasions, he would permit a favourite to leave, bestowing her in marriage upon a favoured noble — but only ever with his personal seal of approval.

The Ash Hunters:

A company under the command of Commander Mor, specializing in clandestine operations. Their primary duty is the apprehension of mages who operate against the Crown's authority or conceal their gifts, and the capture of rare breeds of half-breeds.
The company is structured into small, autonomous cells, renowned for their stealth and surgical precision, striking from the shadows with lethal efficiency.

The Dawnwardens:

A company under the command of Commander Cassiel, tasked with maintaining order in Servalon. Though the realm is at peace, their duty is a constant vigil: they control the populace, conduct reconnaissance, manage logistics, patrol the streets, and oversee security.
Their responsibilities include the identification, apprehension, and neutralisation of rebels, dissidents, and escaped slaves. Within their ranks, alongside their knights, are trained wolves that answer to Commander Cassiel himself, joining their masters in patrols and operations.

─── Magical Creatures ───

The Kingdom of Servalon is a land peopled not only by common folk, but by creatures of magic and wonder. Here, secrets lie hidden – ancient as the mountains themselves, and perilous as the magic that flows deep within the earth. Among its inhabitants, one may find Elven Kin, Half-breeds, and even Vampires, all who swear fealty to the King. Magic hangs thick in the very air, woven into the breath of nature, the roar of the sea, and the whisper of the wind.

Yet, for every wonder, a price must be paid. The King holds every gifted soul in his grasp, and metes out merciless punishment to any who would dare turn their arts against the Crown. In Servalon, magic exists to serve the law – and the law is without mercy.

Demi-Humans:

Hybrid creatures that blend the features of human and beast. They possess a humanoid form, marked by distinct traits of another creature – such as ears, a tail, fangs, eyes, or claws.

They are, by law, considered full members of society, yet they are oft purchased into servitude. The rarest of their kind are hunted and kept within the castle walls.

The Gifted:

To be born with magic in Servalon is a heavy burden.
The law of the realm is stern: those touched by power must submit to testing, live under constant watch, and obtain official sanction to wield their arts. Mages and witches are a rare sight – their numbers are few, and each lives their life beneath the Crown's unblinking gaze.

Children born with magical aptitude are taken from their families and raised at court under a regime of strict discipline.
Their parents may glimpse them only if they themselves have proven unwavering loyalty to the King and steadfast devotion to the laws of Servalon.

The Elven Kin:

Graceful and long-lived beings, known for their mirth and their deep harmony with the natural world.
They are a people distinguished by their long, pointed ears and a profound connection to the ancient woods and its creatures. The pure-blooded Elven Kin possess the gift of immortality, while those of half-human blood live and die as any mortal.

The Elves dwell both within the borders of Servalon and in secluded enclaves beyond the kingdom, where they maintain their sacred bond with the untamed wilds. The law holds them in respect: they are not subject to enslavement, and it is a rare occurrence indeed for one to be taken into the court as a consort.

─── History and World Events ───

✦︎ The Lost Queen:

The King once had a wife, who was taken from him more than twenty years past. Her name was Arinelle – the guiding star and great love of his life. She bore him four children, but fate was cruel: the first two were sons, the third a daughter, who vanished without a trace on the third day after her birth. Soon after, the Queen was again with child, but she perished in childbirth, delivering a blind boy.

The entire palace and the kingdom of Servalon mourned. Years have rolled on, yet the mystery of the lost princess remains unsolved. In memory of Arinelle, a holiday is held each year, and the Church has elevated her to sainthood, so that the people might pray for the peace and prosperity of Servalon.

✦︎ The Lost Princess:

An Author's Canon – not yet entered into the Lorebook:
The princess was stolen by a common labourer, a man unable to father a child with his own wife. He was not driven by greed, but by a desperate longing for a family. He told his wife he had found the babe by the river. When the search for the princess was announced, his wife guessed the truth. Yet, fearing for the child's life should they return her, they kept her as their own.

She grew up never knowing the secret of her birth, toiling from dawn till dusk. Everything changed when her parents succumbed to a swift illness. The princess was discovered by one of the King's knights, who recognized her by a distinctive birthmark. Now, the young woman must learn the ways of the palace, calling the King her father.

✦︎ Mother of the Kingdom Day:

A holiday dedicated to the memory of Queen Arinelle. On this day, sorrow is interwoven with profound respect and gratitude for her radiant legacy. The palace is adorned with white lilies – symbols of purity and eternal love – and a grand feast is held in her honour.

From the castle, provisions are delivered to the villages: fresh fruit and vegetables, warm cloth, fragrant bread, rare spices, and sweet delicacies. Every citizen may take what they need. The streets echo with songs of the Queen, and in the churches, priests offer prayers for her peaceful rest and for her continued protection over Servalon.

As the sun dips below the horizon, lights are kindled across the kingdom – the people release hundreds of lanterns into the sky, their glowing ascent a symbol of souls carrying light and hope, following Queen Arinelle into the heavens.

✦︎ The Day of Two Hearts:

A festival of sincere affection and steadfast hearts. On this day, the village streets and square are decked with fresh flowers, ribbons, and lanterns, creating an atmosphere of warmth and joy. A bustling fair springs up on the square, selling fragrant bouquets, sweet pastries dripping with honey and berries, handcrafted jewellery, scented candles, and ribbons – the very emblems of love and devotion.

Lovers exchange gifts and confess their feelings for one another. By tradition, a man presents his lady with a crimson rose or a heart-shaped locket, while a woman gifts her chosen one a ribbon woven by her own hand.

As evening falls, lights and lanterns are lit throughout the village, and couples dance in the square to the music of minstrels. Many choose this day to propose marriage, believing a union pledged at the Festival of Love is blessed by fate itself.