The Golden Lands

Ïarnï | EE-arn-ee |

adjective

1. Other, a person or group of people intrinsically different from and alien to oneself: No one knew where the Ïarnï came from, speaking in a foreign tongue.

noun

2. A person or group of people who have additional internal organs and brain structures that allows them to work magic far more easily and effectively than other humans: The Ïarnï placed their hands on the damaged leg, magically binding and healing the wound.

The Ïarnï

The Ïarnï are human beings. Internally, there are some additional structures in the brain. There is also a small organ where the appendix is found on most humans, although it is not connected directly to the digestive system.

The primary difference between the Ïarnï and other humans is their enhanced capabilities for magic. While some very talented humans can do minor and limited magical workings, the Ïarnï humans can tap into their strength, stamina, and willpower, to work impressive magics.

Some Ïarnï, talented in the Healing Arts, Apothecary Magics, and Alchemical Processes, have had miraculous abilities to repair wounds and create medicines for the sick. These talents can also be used for evil, as they can be twisted into means to torture, maim, and kill people. Ïarnï Pestilences of Power have been loosed in war, spreading plagues deadly and infectious. Their poisons are subtle, specific in effect, almost always fatal, and have no antidotes. Only the most talented Ïarnï can stop or negate the effects of a diabolical draught of death.

Other Ïarnï have shown talents in the Arts of War. While they are known for their ability to create temporary Energy Shields, capable of deflecting dagger, arrow, and even sword thrusts, their offensive capabilities cannot be understated. They can rain down Magical Bolts on the most armored of opponents, killing or wounding many in a summoning of Power.

Perhaps the most insidious magic of the Ïarnï is their ability to cloud human minds. They have been known to wipe every memory away from someone. They can be more selective, erasing specific groups of memories, although this can lead to madness, as the subject's brain tries to reconcile inconsistencies. Even worse, the Ïarnï are able to plant thoughts, subconscious triggers, and other mind-controlling magics. The poor subject might have no idea that they are subconsciously planning to assassinate some important person.

There are rumors of Ïarnï who could call down Lightning from the sky, or create Vortices of Deadly Winds, but those are mostly myths and legends. For every positive effect of their magics, you can be certain that they are just as capable of using their magics for harm.

Ïarnï genetics tend to be recessive, so some families can appear to be fully human, incapable of magic, for generations. Occasionally, those families birth a child where the Ïarnï blood runs strong, and they are capable of casting magics. These children are often abandoned and banished out of fear.

The Oppressive Times

For centuries, non-magical humans and Ïarnï lived in separated communities, ill at ease with each other. Skills with magic make no difference in the usual human failings and evils. The only difference is that the Ïarnï have an advantage when it comes to their interactions with humans unable to use magic. There have been uncountable skirmishes, conflicts, battles, and wars (hot and cold). Only the much greater numbers of non- magical humans, compared to those with Ïarnï powers, has limited the scope of Ïarnï ambitions.

Two centuries ago, that balance changed dramatically. Disparate groups of angry Ïarnï gathered together silently, plotting and planning for years before erupting across the Golden Lands. In a swift coup, they took control everywhere, using foul magic, mind control, and more to gain power and control.

Their rule was Harsh and Oppressive. They used non-magical humans as slaves and toys, killing those who would oppose them. There were other Unspeakable Horrors in those days, and this Chronicler shudders at the horrors she's studied from those Oppressive Times.

It took sixty years of careful planning and preparation to strike back. There were a few Ïarnï who were ashamed of their kins' evil, who assisted in the Bloody Rebellion. In the end, most of the worst Ïarnï were killed, their heads severed from their bodies, and burned in retribution. Many of the rest were imprisoned or exiled. Nevertheless, too many of the cruel, vicious, and nasty Ïarnï went underground or into hiding, attempting to blend in with the non-magical humans they'd recently ruled.

There were Purges and Trials when someone suspected of being Ïarnï was identified. Some of these Ïarnï were those who'd helped in the Bloody Rebellion, on the side of their non-magical kin. Most of them were killed anyway, in an uncontrolled thirst and need for vengeance. Many innocent humans were also accused and executed; some Nobles did this deliberately, as a way to rid their Duchies and Baronies of troublemakers and rabble-rousers.

In the end, the numbers of Ïarnï were greatly reduced. They vanished from the Golden Lands; they weren't gone, but they were afraid to give any hint of their true nature. Much of their Lore and many of their Libraries were burned. Possession of an Ïarnï Treatise on magic became a serious criminal offense. The abilities of the Ïarnï to create dangerous magics were radically curtailed.

The last hundred years have been relatively quiet, until recently...

The Tale of King Alandor

He was a courier, at first, during the Revelation of the Subversive Ïarnï, starting in one Duchy, then spreading to four more, including Blackwater Valley. The Ïarnï, with their magic, rituals, bindings, and incantations, fought hard, even as they claimed they were good subjects of the Golden Lands. There were some surprising discoveries, including Lady Kathrÿn, Duchess of Kërst, a respected member of the Council of Nobles, who fled before she could be tried.

Alandor proved to be a surprising tactician, and Lord William took him as an aide. Before long, Lord William was letting Alandor run the planning, because of Alandor's intellect, thoughtfulness, and mercy. There was no need for outright slaughter, as Lord Samuel and many of the others called for. Young Ïarnï children could be spared, if they grew up never learning of their heritage. Elder Ïarnï could be isolated, allowed to finish whatever life they had left, in peace. Some Ïarnï were pardoned, allowed to continue their life on an endless parole, under strict supervision. Some were sent into exile, scattered in distant lands. Many, the troublemakers and criminals, were tried, convicted, and imprisoned for their actions.

Queen Harmony Knighted Alandor for these efforts, which further angered the Council of Nobles. Lord Samuel was the loudest, clamoring for his own Knighthood. (He's never gotten it.)

While Alandor's actions reduced the intensity of the fighting, the remaining Ïarnï were the most stubborn. They resorted to cunning acts of terrorism and subterfuge to strike back. The Council of Nobles, lathered into a blood rage, struck hard, ignoring Sir Alandor's and Lord William's pleas for a tempered response.

On the night of the Blackwater Betrayal, the Ïarnï of the Kërst Clan, living and lurking in Blackwater Valley, worked a powerful, previously-unknown magic, sending their enhanced people to slaughter most of Lord Samuel's troops. Assassins poisoned four of the Council of Nobles, grievously wounded Lord Samuel and seriously hurt four other Lords and Ladies.

If Sir Alandor had not been in Queen Harmony's tent, trying to warn her of the Ïarnï forces moving to capture her, she would have died. Sir Alandor turned the assassin's poison-dripping blade, giving the Queen time to run her sword through the vile rogue. The two of them fought back-to-back, killing off seven others, to give them time to escape to safety.

Lord William was apologetic for not being there for Queen Harmony, but his protective guards had been cleverly lured away by foul magic.

When the Betrayal was finally undone, and the Kërst Clan extinguished, Queen Harmony granted Sir Alandor the Duchy of Kërstholme, a peerage that elevated him to the Council of Nobles. For once, Lord Samuel, still bedridden from his wounds, could not speak back.

The land grew quiet. The Ïarnï went into hiding, as many people, hidden Ïarnï, vanished from their villages and towns. This was the beginning of the Lull, when it seemed peace had been restored.

To celebrate, and because they were in love with each other, Queen Harmony asked Sir Alandor for his hand in marriage. He agreed. Lord William was eager and honored to be the Officiant of the Civil Duties of Marriage and Enthronement, raising Sir Alandor to be King Alandor, the Queen's Consort. Princess Melody was born the next year, and both of them chose Lord William as the Protector Uncle for her, an honorary responsibility as a beloved part of their extended family.

Four years later, the Lull ended, unsurprisingly in Blackwater Valley. The Ïarnï were back, claiming the Duchy as their own. The battles were fierce and difficult, with the Ïarnï striking from the shadows, with deadly magic and masterful tactics.

King Alandor insisted that the Queen remain at the Castle, far from Blackwater Valley, under the protection of Lord William and his specialized guards. Queen Harmony agreed that this was the best for Princess Melody, but that she would be at King Alandor's side. Given that she was the Queen and he was the Consort, that was how it had to be.

From the beginning, the Final Battle was far harder than the Betrayal. The Ïarnï, with nothing left to lose, threw everyone and everything they could muster into the fight. Even though Queen Harmony had wisely chosen to increase the size of her army, with specific training, and armed a few of them with the few magics she had left in the Royal Armory, the tide turned against them almost immediately. The non-Ïarnï sorcery that the Golden Lands had on hand was feeble and almost insignificant against their onslaught, but King Alandor was a miracle worker, deploying the Queen's forces with an almost-prescient insight into the Ïarnï tactics.

By the third day, the slaughter on both sides was terrible to behold. The numbers on each side were half what they were to begin, but the fighting raged on. King Alandor offered a truce to parlay, but the poor courier earned an arrow through his brain in the attempt. The Ïarnï were all in — they would not surrender, they would not compromise, and they would not be denied.

Four days later, the Ïarnï magic faltered. Gaps opened in their defenses, allowing Queen Harmony's forces to rush in and gain the upper hand. Death was everywhere, bodies lay where they'd fallen, food for the scavenging beasts that openly circled the battlefields.

King Alandor offered a truce again, as men, women, and children of the Ïarnï were dying in waves of desperate, doomed attacks. This time, the Ïarnï relented, offering to meet King Alandor in the middle of the battlefield. Queen Harmony counseled him not to go. Queen Harmony ordered him not to go. He refused, and had her gently restrained so that she would not be the one walking into one last possible Ïarnï treachery.

King Alandor stood proudly in the sunlight, his armor gleaming, as he offered terms to the Ïarnï spokeswoman. She spat at him, then waved her hands in a mystic pattern. In a moment, they were both dead by her foul magics.

Queen Harmony screamed and collapsed, ordering her troops to show the Ïarnï no mercy. She commanded that their treacherous and vile people must be excised from the Golden Lands, completely and totally. That is what her army did. When it was finally over, only one in eight of her Army were standing. The Ïarnï were all dead, their cruel heads chopped from their venomous bodies.

The Queen's guards recovered the shriveled and desiccated body of her truest of loves, King Alandor. When she returned to the Castle, King Alandor was buried in the Parëtheliën Garden, next to Queen Harmony's parents. She declared a Month of Grieving, which turned into five years for her and Princess Melody.

The Current Crisis

The Council of Nobles has been divided of late, especially in the last six months. A small majority have been pressing Queen Harmony to be more active and decisive about minor troubles here and there — things that, frankly, Queen Harmony insists the local authorities (Dukes, Barons, Knights, and other Important People), the men and women in charge of the given region, deal with.

Rumors of Ïarnï subversion, sabotage, and other treacherous acts, seemed just that — rumors, difficult to verify, vague and general accusations, often rooted in petty differences and feuds between clans and families.

That changed three months ago, when Lady Ööraea, Lord Samuel's wife, vanished from Blackwater Valley, apparently taken by Ïarnï terrorists. Lord Samuel vowed that he would not bow to (or even reveal) their demands, as he would hunt down and kill them all, regardless of their insistence that they would kill his wife first. Hope grows dim for the beloved Lady Ööraea, as search parties and bounty hunters have failed to turn up any evidence of her, or even that she still lives. They have sadly started looking for a grave.

Two months ago, a lone assassin, intent on taking the life of Queen Harmony, was caught by one of Lord Samuel's agents, at the gates of the Castle itself. The villain swore that they were not alone, and that Queen Harmony and Princess Melody would feel the revenge of the Ïarnï. Little more was learned, as the foul killer swallowed their deadly poison, leaving behind a pouch full of gems, an ensorcelled dagger, a map to an abandoned safe house, and a long list of unanswered questions.

When the Council of Nobles convened in private session, other Nobles revealed four more assassination attempts against their families, including one that managed to grievously wound the Duke of Grasseau. Lord Samuel and the small majority of others insisted that Queen Harmony must go into a small, safe enclave within the Castle, separated from Princess Melody, so that they couldn't both be killed in one dastardly attack.

When Queen Harmony, Princess Melody, and Lord William, among others, protested, the Council of Nobles held firm, insisting on this until the “danger had passed.” There were also grumblings that Queen Harmony had not remarried, leaving the Golden Lands without a King Consort and without the possibility of another heir. While these grumblings may have reached the Queen, no one would dare say so in her presence, or even admit to saying so.

And thus, it has come to pass that, for the last six weeks, Queen Harmony has been watched and protected in her quarters, with her only access to the sun in the walled and guarded Parëtheliën Garden. Princess Melody has been watched and guarded in another protective enclave within the Castle, away from her mother. Lady Ööraea is presumed dead, there are rumors that others in Lord Samuel's family may be poisoned, and the Duke of Grasseau remains bedridden and weak.

New rumors race around the Golden Lands with each new messenger that comes to the Castle — which is why Lord Samuel and the Council of Nobles have issued their ultimatum to Queen Harmony.