~The Great Famine Rebellion, Katouiz History of the Tahl’Uruh.

The Tahl’Uruh are the least wealthy of the four great factions. Unlike their mountain-dwelling brethren, they are known for their friendliness, hearty nature, and generous hospitality. They inhabit an area known as the Green Cradle—a series of vast and fertile plateaus that encompass the majority of the Armurian continent, ranging from the North-Western coast, down around the Southern peninsula, and up the Eastern coast. The plateaus serve as the primary food supply for Armuria.

The Tahl’Uruh do not have a capital; their society is made up of farmers and herders inhabiting numerous towns and villages amongst vast swathes of farmland. Their single-storied buildings are long and built from either wood, mud brick, or stone with thatched roofing and a central fireplace inside for cooking and heat.

They have no interest in politics and war, and concern themselves with the weather and other factors that influence crop yield. Family and community are the core values in Tahl’Uruh society and are expressed through frequent social activities. They celebrate the harvests with large outdoor festivals in the summer and transform village longhouses into places of drinking, music, and dance during the harsh winter months.

Their economy relies on the export of food, animal pelts, cloth, and beer. In turn, they import agricultural tools and armaments from the Tahl’Ajanar.

Despite the Tahl’Uruh comprising multiple small communities and lacking any form of official military, they possess an efficient ability to unify when facing a threat. They use messenger pigeons to convey information among the villages, and messages can be sent across the continent in a matter of days. Their true combat effectiveness is found through their use of war beasts, namely the Maemor and the Vohl.

Maemor are four-legged herbivores indigenous to the Green Cradle. They play a crucial role in Tahl’Uruh society not only for their milk, meat, and insulating fur but also for their military usefulness. At two horses high and four abreast, a male Maemor strikes an intimidating figure. They are heavily muscled with thick fur and long horns that grow outward from their large heads. Over millennia, the Tahl’Uruh have domesticated these gregarious beasts and have become masters at herding and training them efficiently. Most villages will have at least a small herd of Maemor grazing in the surrounding meadows. They are peaceful in nature unless their herd is threatened, and a Maemor trained for war is a devastating force on the battlefield. Due to their thick fur, there is little need for costly protection. A large leather saddle is strapped to their backs, and they are ridden by three to four heavily armoured Tahl’Uruh wielding long pikes or equipped with horn bows. Maemor are used to break through lines of infantry in the centre of a battle, with the pikemen and bowmen protecting the Maemor’s flanks as they crush their way through the ranks of hapless enemies.

The Vohl are a breed of domesticated wolf, also indigenous to the Green Cradle. They assist in the herding of Maemor, protecting calves as well as the villages from predators. Vohl have lived alongside the Tahl’Uruh since the beginning of memory. Southern Vohl have fur that is black or dark brown, while Northern Vohl have grey fur mottled with white. They are long-limbed and stand almost as tall as a horse with long snouts. Their canines can reach thumb-length and they have the strength to pierce the fur and hide of a Maemor. In times of war, Vohl follow their Tahl’Uruh masters into battle. Due to their long limbs and lightning speed, they are particularly effective at dealing with cavalry, leaping high to meet necks with blade-like teeth. Their limbs are slender and vulnerable to sword slashes, so they are rarely used against large lines of infantry unless enemies are on the verge of routing. In such cases, they are devastating to already wavering morale.

Millennia ago, when the Tahl’Uruh were not yet the Tahl’Uruh but merely peasant villages, and the mountain cities were still ruled by the Mountain Lords of old, life was a cruel struggle. Villages were required to submit their harvests to their Lord’s tax collectors who came every summer with their soldiers. The farmers were told to be grateful for the protection of the Mountain Lords, the same lords who would take their daughters for their concubines. Refusal was met with brutal suppression.

A day arrived when an unnamed village elder, who had his family killed and his granddaughters sold into slavery for a poor annual harvest, began a pilgrimage of rebellion. He travelled from village to village, speaking with village elders and stoking the fires of revolt. Thus began the Great Famine Rebellion.

Like wildfire, the whispers of rebellion spread across the continent, fuelled with the resentment of countless memories of suffering. Villages hid their bags of grain in caves and their ancient barrows. The fields were abandoned, and no food was harvested. When the tax collectors came, they were met with a demand for freedom.

In the mountain holds, stockpiles ran low and unrest grew. The Mountain Lords, growing nervous, slaughtered whole villages in an attempt to quell the rebellion. Many Tahl’Uruh lost their lives, and entire villages were almost eradicated, but some hid in their caves and barrows.

Starvation set in, and civil war broke out among the mountain cities, crippling the armies and leading to the collapse. The Mountain Lords were overthrown, and the villages were granted their independence becoming the fourth great faction known as the Tahl’Uruh, through the single biggest loss of life in Armuria.

Hadaran and Benemoran artificers collaborate closely on major Interlace-related research projects as well as general Interlace construction. At any given time, there are teams of Hadaran artificers in the imperial academy, hard at work creating new or more efficient designs with the artificers and mages of the empire. Existing designs are constructed through the efforts of both civilizations; structural parts of the small, military-grade Interlaces are crafted in Hadar and are made from high-quality and expensive materials imported from Halanth. Once these are completed, they are shipped to the empire where the final assembly by artificers from both Hadar and the empire is done. After passing stringent testing, the interlaces are shipped to the imperial armoury, and finally, to the battlefield.

Despite their utility, workshops do not garner the same fame and recognition among the common folk as smithies do, who view artificers and their creations with superstition. Being antisocial creatures, artificers prefer it this way. They are cloistered and tend to have a grumpy and irritable demeanour. These eccentric and brilliant creators are well-versed in the fields of natural philosophy, alchemy, engineering, and the complex art of interlacing.

Artificing workshops, both small and large, utilise space to its fullest. The workbench serves as the centrepiece of each workshop. Within easy reach of these workbenches, racks hold tools such as small hammers, mallets, files, chisels, pliers, tongs, and similar items. Cupboards along the walls are filled with an array of vials, mortars and pestles, and alembics made of copper and glass, among many other curious-looking items. Books and scrolls often sprawl across planning tables, amidst small, half-finished devices or gadgets secured in vices. Moreover, every workshop dedicates a segregated space, usually partitioned by a small wall, to house large shelves brimming with scrolls and tomes.

Walking through such a place, one might hear the gentle, high-pitched ting of small hammers, the quiet roar of small furnaces, and the rhythmic rasp and click of pole lathes, accompanied by the whistle and bubble of fluids in alembics and cauldrons. Paired with this are the gentle sounds of shuffling footsteps; apprentices burdened with rolls of parchment or tools making their way carefully and quietly through the maze of delicate instruments. The air is filled with the smells of parchment, wood, dust, and metal. Throughout the day, other, stranger aromas may waft through the space, ranging from sweet, floral scents to sulphurous and acrid odours that burn the nostrils and make eyes water.

For a Tahl youth looking to find themselves an apprenticeship, and a name, artificing holds less allure than smithing. Though not as physically demanding, the sheer volume of hours spent buried in the study of tomes or in drab lectures given by old and irritable masters is usually enough to deter most young and ambitious Tahl. In comparison to the striking image of a great sword or gleaming piece of armour produced in a smithy, the many months it takes to create just a single device, be it magically or mechanically powered, proves discouraging to most. Nonetheless, individuals of a rare and often eccentric mindset are drawn to the trade. The devices they learn to make, particularly Interlaces, possess a far greater impact in battle and warfare than any sword could achieve. This realisation often comes later, as a Tahl matures beyond youthful fantasies of heroes single-handedly changing the course of battles with just their sword.

~ Excerpt, The Halls of Hadar, The Journeyman’s Tale.

The Tahl’Ajanar are one of the four great factions of the Tahl race. They are a proud people, particularly regarding their blacksmithing, forging, and artificing. Their crafts are reputed throughout Orm as the best in all its known lands.

Aside from their pride, they are passionate and innovative. Their focus on the quality of craft ties heavily into their identity as a people. Their love for hammer, fire and anvil surpasses all other values in their society. To represent this, their city's crest, depicting a hammer and anvil, rests above the entrance gates.

The Tahl’Ajanar capital is called Hadar. It is built into Horanthurn, one of the largest mountains in central Armuria. It is unarguably the grandest and wealthiest of all four of the great Tahl cities. In almost all areas of the city are found symbols of its wealth, be it the gold and silver inlays in the decor lining the walls and caverns, the colossal tapestries that hang in the vast halls depicting battles long past, or the immaculately carved statues of priceless alabaster and marble of Hadar’s great smiths, leaders and heroes. The city's halls and chambers are distinctly bright in comparison to the other great cities. Hundreds of oil lamps burn continuously throughout the city, meticulously maintained and refilled by the city’s lamplighters. The maintenance of which is, to the knowledgeable, a subtle yet stark symbol of the city’s wealth.

Hadar’s layout centres around the Grand Way, an enormous passage extending for many leagues through Horanthurn, which serves as the primary artery for all thoroughfares in Hadar. Hundreds of smaller boulevards splinter perpendicularly from the Grand Way. These smaller passages, nonetheless wide enough to accommodate ten ox carts abreast, boast cavernous ceilings reaching up to sixty feet high. Along these can be found busy shops, noisy inns housing traders and visitors and, most prominently, large smithies. The boulevards then split into avenues, narrower with ceilings thirty feet high or less. The avenues branch into smaller, quieter, streets and alleys which hide little stores, smithies, workshops, residential areas and public baths.

Smithies and workshops are the beating heart of Hadar. Smithies produce the bulk of Hadar’s exports in sheer volume. Hundreds are found scattered throughout the city. The smaller smithies are typically chambers containing a forge with manned bellows, a meagre scattering of anvils and two or three workbenches. Simple wooden racks lined with hammers, tongs, and a few other tools adorn the walls, while a crude apron rack near the entrance holds rough-leather aprons draped on wooden pegs.

The larger, more affluent smithies can barely be considered smithies at all and, rather, impress upon one the feeling of a busy factory. Well-organised layouts divided into areas of types of metalworking are common. Bellows powered by oxen are three, sometimes five times the size of their smaller hand-powered siblings that feed massive hungry forges with large volumes of air. Enormous trip hammers can be found crashing down on large pieces of glowing red metal, their giant hammers raised by groups of sweating apprentices cranking a wheel by hand or by oxen rotating a wheel. Large workstations with anvils of all sizes are spread amongst the machinery. High-quality tools hang from fine steel racks suspended from the ceilings above workbenches and along the walls. Often there is an antechamber where thick hide and high-quality aprons as well as protective eyewear hang.

No matter the size of the workshops, there are three common elements to all of them. The sound, the heat and the smells. The size of each workshop only serves to amplify these elements.

The sound of hammering is constant. Some ring light and tinny with quick uneven tempos while others emit a deeper sonorous peal that lingers between its slow and steady beats. The hammers crash down on unformed pieces of metal, half-made weapons, armour and tools. Along the walls and ceilings of most workshops, are panels of steel and hide, angled and perforated in unusual patterns. These panels cleverly deafen the cacophony of sounds so that smiths can communicate over the din. The heat that greets one at a workshop's entrance hits like a solid wall, sweltering and stifling. It aggressively elicits the skin to release its perspiration. The air becomes thick with the smell of sweat, earth, metal and an acrid sweetness all mixed together.

Apprentices move from task to task, their laboured breathing and furrowed brows betraying their struggle to adapt to the harsh environment of a mountain smithy. Many Tahl’Ajanar youths aspire to become master blacksmiths, drawn by the allure of prestige and wealth that such a position promises but few are prepared for the brutal work it entails. And, all the while the smiths hammer away, oblivious to the harsh environment, their minds on their work. For the forges must continue burning, the bellows must pump and metal must be beaten.

~ General Berculus.

The Tahl’Azuh are a faction renowned for their logical and objective approach, particularly in the realms of metallurgy and alchemy. Their society is highly organised, and driven by a relentless pursuit of perfection and optimization in their craft. Known as expert metallurgists, they are adept at refining very pure metals and creating strong, unique alloys. This dedication to their work involves improving metal purification processes and discovering new alloys and earth-based elements.

Many Tahl’Azuh spend their lives striving to smelt completely pure metals, while others focus on enhancing the strength, lightness, and heat resilience of alloys. Their culture, marked by an intellectual and somewhat aloof temperament, reveals a deep passion for metallurgy and alchemy. Discussions in these fields often become highly animated, sometimes leading to heated arguments over differing processes and theories.

The primary source of income for the Tahl'Azuh comes from the export of their alloys and incredibly pure metals. These products are renowned for their superior quality and, consequently, are priced significantly higher than those of an average human metallurgist. This pricing strategy, while profitable, means that the Benemor Empire does not rely exclusively on the Tahl'Azuh for its metals. Additionally, maintaining a degree of independence in metal production is a strategic choice for Benemor, particularly in case there ever arises a rift in the Benemor-Tahl alliance.

Feedback is crucial to the Tahl’Azuh, especially regarding the field performance of their alloys. They value insights from their diverse range of customers, from their Tahl’Ajanahr brethren, who utilise their products for forging, to generals conducting military campaigns. This feedback loop is vital in their quest for metallurgical excellence, informing their continuous drive for innovation and improvement.

Halanth, the industrial capital of the Tahl’Azuh, is a city segmented into several distinct districts, with the largest and most prominent being the smelting, refining, and alchemical districts.

Dominating these is the smelting district, a sprawling area characterised by cavernous halls echoing the relentless din of industry. Here, sweltering heat and the pungent odour of coal and molten metals fill the air. The halls are dominated by a series of massive crucibles and furnaces, each akin in size to a small house. While the furnaces are fixed to the stone floor, the crucibles, when not in transit, rest in vast, bowl-like depressions in the floor, resembling enormous scoops gouged from the stone.

High overhead, an intricate network of steel tracks interlaces across the ceiling, forming a metallic web. This track system supports numerous wheeled constructs, from which the crucibles are suspended, facilitating the transport of molten metal.

Along the walls as well as bisecting the floors of the halls, deep furrows in the stone serve as channels, ready to safely direct molten metal in case of accidental spills. Stone bridges crisscross this network of gutters, providing essential pathways through the halls and leading directly to the mouths of the furnaces.

The alchemical district is a particularly noteworthy area, distinguished by its numerous small chambers filled with glass objects in an array of shapes and sizes. Scattered among these are cauldrons and a variety of metal and wooden apparatus essential for alchemical processes. This district serves as the hub of innovation, where new chemical concoctions are created and novel alloys undergo testing. While these chemical mixtures find various applications, the primary focus of the alchemists is to experiment with formulations that could enhance metallurgical processes in any possible way.

Woven between the districts is a network of enormous tunnels, exclusively designed for the transportation of ores, metals and chemicals between the districts. Similar to the smelting chambers, tracks line the roofs of these tunnels. Here, wheeled cauldrons, laden with molten metals, transport their precious cargo throughout Halanth to various locations where they are needed.

The Tahl’Azuh maintain a professional standing army, known for its high level of organisation, discipline, and effectiveness in combat. As part of their domestic military activities, they frequently engage in joint training exercises with the Benemor military reserves. This collaboration is a testament to their strong alliance with the Benemor, under which approximately half of the Tahl’Azuh's military forces are consistently integrated into and serve alongside the Benemor military in its conquests.

I've come to appreciate their straightforwardness and consider myself lucky to call some among them friends. Their laughter, rare but genuine, resonates in a way that belies their rugged exterior, revealing the true character of this unique and enduring people.”

~ Askiti Tradesman.

The Tahl’Askorah are one of the four factions of Tahl inhabiting the Armurian continent. Known predominantly as a subterranean people, their identity is deeply intertwined with a profound cultural and religious love for stone, which is only amplified by an obsession with rare ores and gems. Their capital, Morkanas, is nestled deep within the mountains of central Armuria. In comparison to the majesty of the cities Halanth and Hadar, Morkanas is austere and cold. Its overall design is more angular and functional than decorative. The tunnel networks beneath the city are vast and sprawling forming a labyrinth that would swallow visitors who might stray too deep.

The Tahl’Askorah are renowned far and wide for their exceptional mining skills, regarded as peerless in their ability to excavate rock. They have a knack for locating veins of ore and minerals, a skill they claim is due to a lifetime in the mines. Their love of stone and mining, consequently, has resulted in them developing unparalleled proficiency in structural engineering, construction and masonry. These skills are often sought after in tunnelling and the construction of buildings and chambers within the other Tahl mountain cities. They have played an indispensable role in the architectural and infrastructural development of their realm and their allies. Part of the alliance agreement between the Benemor Empire and the Tahl requires the Tahl’Askorah to train Benemor’s elite, non-Tahl, Malkali in military engineering. Beyond their reputed skills in construction, the Tahl’Askorah cherish rich traditions in storytelling and stone carving, reflecting their strong connection with their land.

The foundation of the Tahl’Askorahn economy is based primarily on the export of metal ores. They also export their skills and labour in building and excavation. The vast majority of exports are to the metallurgists of the Tahl’Azuh. Additionally, they export ore and gems across the world, the Benemor Empire being their largest overseas customer.

The Tahl’askorah are distinguished by their exceptionally direct communication, a trait that is remarkably pronounced even within the inherently straightforward culture of the Tahl. Known for their lack of social eloquence, they are often perceived by their brethren, and the rest of the known world, as blunt, impatient and ‘unvarnished’ as the Tahl’ajanahr like to put it. They disdain what they call 'verbose' use of language, finding it pretentious and unproductive. However, this brevity in speech does not extend to discussions in their areas of expertise; they are known to become quite loquacious when discussing the finer points of topics like masonry or construction.

Relations between the Tahl’Askorah and the other factions, in particular the Tahl’Azuh and Tahl’Ajanar, are complex. They are often fraught with mutual disdain, a sentiment most pronounced among the nobilities. The Tahl’Askorah regard their brethren as frivolous and soft and see themselves, ironically, as the more humble, honest and hardworking of the Tahl. Conversely, the Tahl’Azuh and Tahl’Ajanar tend to regard the Tahl’Askorah as simple, dogmatic and ‘lacking mental flexibility’.

Their religious beliefs align at their core with the broader Tahl mythology. However, they place significant importance on a particular section of the religious mythos. Given that the caves were a crucial sanctuary that saved the Tahl from annihilation, mining and excavating transcend mere professions, rising to the status of virtuous and sacred activities. This reverence, however, is juxtaposed with a deep-seated fear of the ocean, which in their beliefs, is still considered home to the monsters banished by Olen.

The Tahl’Askorah do not maintain a professional standing army. In their culture, each citizen dedicates an hour daily to combat training, conducted in groups who train in shifts. This rigorous daily regimen, along with a lifetime spent mining and hauling heavy stones, has honed them into the physically strongest fighters among all Tahl factions. Instead, when the call to battle arises, eligible citizens arm themselves with weapons and armour stored in their homes, which they are legally required to maintain year-round.Their signature style of combat involves large shields and powerful overhead swings with war axes or war hammers, often decimating the front lines of any opposing force and, as a result, severely undermining the morale of the remaining enemies.

The gods were dismayed at this and so they created Olen. With stones from the mountains, they crafted his bones; with the soil of the plateaus, they moulded his flesh; with the salt water of the sea, they filled his veins; and with the grasses of the hill country, they wove his hair. His eyes were formed of sapphires from the mountain’s hidden depths, his teeth were carved from the purest marble. The heart of Olen was a gift from Kyrallassa, the great sea serpent. Finally, his mind was formed from the saliva of the gods. Thus, Olen was one of god, earth and sea.

The gods commanded Olen to rid Armuria of the wild beasts that belonged in the darkest reaches of the ocean. So Olen wrestled the beasts back into the oceans where they sank to the bottom fighting and tearing at each other. And the gods were pleased.

For a time there was peace. But Olen was moulded part god, and his desire for creation was strong, thus he began to reshape the land. He carved out the great rivers Haldtun and Soldtun that flowed from the mountains, stretching to the north and south. With his fists, he struck the mountains, creating great caves. Using his nails he raked the plateaus creating soft soil where plants began to grow. And the gods looked on and wondered.

And once his labours were finished, he gathered clay, rock and weed and fashioned from them the first people of Armuria. He baked them in the great mountain fires and cooled them with the water of the ocean and he breathed life into them and named them Tahl. Angered by this, the gods commanded Olen to destroy the Tahl, but Olen refused, pleading with them to spare his creations. The gods, fearing that Armuria would return once again to wildness and violence ignored his plea and cast ice over the mountains to freeze the Tahl and sent fire over the plateaus to kill the land. Olen cried out in dismay at the destruction and he hid the Tahl in the caves to shelter them from the cold. He opened his veins using his blood to quench the fires and bring life back to the soil. Bleeding, he laid himself down and with his last breath asked the gods once more to spare the Tahl. The gods, so moved by his sacrifice, allowed the Tahl to live in peace upon Armuria.”

~ Tahl Creation Mythos.

The Tahl are a humanoid race native to the northern reaches of Armuria. Of stature akin to humans, yet broader and more robust, they are a people of strength and vigour. Their thick, long arms are disproportionate to their legs and stand out as their most distinctive trait. Their facial features bear a strong resemblance to humans but are more pronounced in almost every way, with prominent cheekbones, broad jawbones, and heavy brows. The males prefer to maintain long hair that is either left loose or braided with gold or silver rings fastened at the ends. Their beards are a symbol of their manhood, long and oftentimes braided. A beardless Tahl man is a rare sight indeed.

The women, while more slender than their male counterparts, are still more thickset than human females. Their hair, like that of the men, is kept long and sometimes braided but unlike the men, this is for aesthetic preference. The Tahl’s hair spans the spectrum of colour, from pale yellow to the fiercest red.

Most Tahl live high in the mountains in the great Tahl cities or the villages scattered throughout the many slopes. The high wintery mountains lend most Tahl their pale complexion, though the Tahl’Uruh, with a life lived upon the sun-kissed plateaus, bear the tan of the sun and are often kissed with a multitude of freckles.

In temperament, the Tahl are a proud and amicable people, confident in their place in the world and proud of their heritage. They usually hold no ill will towards the other races and civilisations of Orm except goblins, secure in their strength and guided by a culture that values honesty and honour. They are well-regarded by the world at large and respected for their integrity and their fine crafting skills.

Yet, should a Tahl be driven to anger and violence, they become a fearsome adversary, a force to be reckoned with, embodying the very strength and determination of Olen himself. There have been few recorded attempts of kingdoms attempting invasions into Armuria and none of the armies that entered the labyrinth of mountains has ever returned.

~ The Blaspheme Morah.

In the annals of arcane knowledge resides a taboo practice. A sinister piece of magery, it grants its caster the ability to exchange life forces between one being and another. Among the myriad spells known to sorcerers, it is discussed in hushed tones with caution. Its reputation, more feared than even the dark practices of necromancy, stems not just from its inherent danger, but from the weight of its moral implications.

The dire repercussions of the ealdor breath are noted with grim reservation. When a being is subjected to such extreme transformation, the aftermath is seldom without consequence. The profound alterations to the physical form invariably strain the mind, often pushing it to the brink, with madness lurking in its shadow. Beyond the physical, the scars of past traumas, deeply embedded within the flesh, rise to the fore, manifesting as unyielding pains and unsettling ticks.

While there exist scant tales of the spell achieving its purpose without driving its subjects to the edge of sanity, they are few and far between. Even in those rare successes, an unsettling change can usually be palpable. Those once familiar find themselves estranged, their loved ones sensing an eerie difference in their personality.

Some mages, seduced by the illusion of everlasting life, descend to unspeakable depths, seeking out the young to pilfer their vital essence. These are called "Switchers". Within city walls a Switcher's reign of terror is often short-lived. After their second or third transference, their waning grasp on caution, blurred by the encroaching madness, betrays them.

Yet there are those who have evaded justice's clutches. These ancient creatures find refuge in distant hamlets, casting shadows of dread upon the local villagers. In these secluded reaches, tales of their wickedness tend to seep into local lore. Huddled by dim campfires, stories like "The Switcher and the Cooper" come to life, sending shivers down the spines of listeners, eliciting squeals of fearful delight from children.

The Benemor Empire has placed this spell among the gravest of prohibitions. None dare weave its threads unless bearing the explicit sanction of the Emperor himself or they face a painful, public execution.

Despite the spectre of mortality that now shadows him, Emperor Benim Cad, recoiled from the suggestion of the use of the ealdor breath as a possible remedy. His trepidation lay not merely in the potential loss of his keen intellect but in a more profound fear: that the ensuing madness might consume him, turning his legacy to ashes, and drowning his empire in a cataclysm of blood and flame of his own making.

~ Opening statement, Thoughts on an Empire by Damon Balan.

Within the sprawling confines of the Benemor Empire exist numerous governmental organisations each fulfilling integral roles to sustain Benemor’s dominion and internal stability. One of note is the Sheathers.

The Sheathers are an organisation, whose modus operandi is primarily covert in nature. They have successfully managed to enshrine themselves in mystery which has turned out to be of great benefit to its operating effectiveness. Despite this, tales of its exploits have become widespread, contributing to its formidable reputation.

The Sheathers are under the direct command of Benemor’s Emperor, Benim Cad. There is an unusual reverence within the organisation for the emperor, with many members deifying him. This fierce loyalty has proved invaluable to Benim Cad, and the actions and objectives of the Sheathers are always aligned with his desires, making them the ultimate instruments of his will.

At the head of the Sheathers sits Naskys, a long-time friend of the emperor from the days before Benemor took form. He oversees all the internal workings of the Sheathers and is one of Benim Cad’s inner circle of advisors. Naskys is one of the original architects of the Benemor Empire and remains a close and trusted friend of the emperor.

The rise of the Benemor Empire is closely intertwined with the exploits of the Sheathers. Before the conception of the Benemor Empire, Benim Cad was the leader of a street gang in Niye’, who specialised in hired killings. He was unlike most street thugs in that he had had the luck of being taught his letters at a young age and was well versed in philosophy and politics. Due to the tragic death of his mentor, the closest thing he had to a father figure, at the inadvertent hands of the aristocracy, Benim Cad developed a loathing for the ruling class and an obsession with the pervasive inequality in his society. Through this obsession the ethos of the Benemor Empire known as ‘The Vision’ was born.

When he judged the time to be right, he carried out the pivotal assassinations of the three trade-lords known as the Triumvirate e’ Niye’, who at the time ruled the city-state. This calculated move marked Benim Cad's ascent from the leader of a gang of cutthroats of common birth to the leader of a city-state.

The aristocracy of Niye’, at first, rejected this young commoner and his brutal means of attaining power and conspired to destroy him and his faction. Knowing that by eradicating the ruling aristocracy he would be consequently stripping Niye’ of its educated and skilled statesmen and officials, thus Crippling Niye’, Benim decided on intimidation tactics as the solution to his conundrum. One night the most influential members of the aristocracy were woken in their beds with the touch of steel on their necks and the quiet whisper of threat in their ear uttered from figures shrouded in black. After this there were gentle reminders now and again but talk of revolt against the new rulers of Niye’ quickly subsided.

With Niye’ firmly under their influence, Benim Cad and his companions turned their gaze toward the neighbouring city-states of Saltos, Ephyros, and Gallogos. These cities, in fear and outrage of this brutal upstart of common birth, formed an alliance, aiming to restore the balance among the city-states. Understanding that Niye’ did not have the military power to defend against all three city-states simultaneously let alone conquer them, Benim Cad and his companions decided to employ the same methods that proved so successful to their ascent to power. They assassinated key figures within the three cities, creating a power vacuum and destabilising them. The alliance crumbled, and, following a number of key murders, some incentivising threats and some messy skirmishes, the city-states ultimately fell to Niye’ and its new and ambitious leader.

As Benim Cad’s power grew and it became evident that an empire was forming around him he and his closest companions concluded that an official, specialised branch of government dedicated to the influence of internal, and sometimes external matters, was necessary for imperial cohesion. This branch would be responsible for destabilising rival factions and silencing internal dissent, ensuring the smooth expansion and consolidation of their burgeoning empire. Having a knack for understanding people and political dynamics in the ruling class, Naskys adopted the responsibility of leading this organisation. He has since meticulously laid the foundation for what would later be known as the Sheathers and is solely responsible for engineering the reverence and near worship its members harbour for their emperor.

The secret to the Husk blades' potency lies in their material, known as Husk, an exceedingly rare metal that has been found in the Feathervein Mountains on the continent of Armuria. Nestled near the Tahl’Askorah capital of Morkanas, these mountains contain trace amounts of Husk ore. Once mined, the ore is carefully transported to the city of Halanth, where the Tahl’Azuh master metallurgists begin the complicated process of smelting the ore into the Husk metal. It was the Tahl’Azuh who discovered and refined the intricate methods needed to forge this unique metal.  An interesting feature of Husk is that it bubbles when in liquid form, making it easily identifiable to those knowledgeable in metallurgy.

The extraordinary properties of Husk contribute significantly to the formidable reputation of Husk blades. The metal is notably strong and durable, although not completely indestructible, with an impressive resistance to blunting. This gives the weapon a longevity that many other materials can't offer. One of the metal’s most striking physical properties is its lightness, achieved due to its hollow porous structure. This allows for swift and agile movements in combat.

However, what truly sets Husk apart from common metals is its magical potential. The hollow recesses within the metal are akin to the small pockets of space found in bone. These small chambers can be filled with magical engravings during forging. This unique feature allows each blade to be imbued with specific magical attributes, making this arguably the most significant trait of Husk. Furthermore, the metal serves as an excellent conductor of magic, amplifying its already potent arcane attributes. Completing its allure is its foreboding dark grey hue.

Despite its obvious utility in the military sector, Husk is used in many applications and is highly sought after by artificers, in particular, due to its excellent magical conductive properties. Gold is far cheaper to use as an alternative, however, it is far more inefficient at conductivity and thus the magical effects of gold-based magical items pale in comparison to husk-based magical items.

The creation of the Husk blades takes place in the city of Hadar, known as the Forge City. Husk bars are melted down and poured into casts. This casting method is crucial as it optimises the naturally hollow characteristics of the metal. Once the cast is set the smiths beat the edges of the blade with their hammers, compressing it and leaving a hard and solid edge to an otherwise hollow sword.

Once crafted, the blades are sent to the capital of the Benemor Empire, where they are provided to the Malkali, nobles and royal guards.

These blades are not just remarkable for their physical attributes; they are also enchanted with a spell that induces a painful mental ache in any magic caster using a weave nearby when the blade is unsheathed from its scabbard. Though there exist negating effects to this enchantment, they are neither commonly known nor easy to cast, requiring critical moments that could prove fatal in the heat of battle.

Despite the unprecedented value of the Lilus Guardian, the disdain for the artificers who construct these small devices persists within many circles of magi to this day. Perhaps the contempt stems from an anxiety over a perceived impending obsolescence by these devices and their makers, or perhaps it is rooted in the philosophical and fundamentalist belief that weaving magic should be reserved for the individual and not the device. It may well stem from a combination of both these factors. It is worth mentioning, however, that not all who weave magic share this sentiment, particularly within the higher echelons of mages, as the magics woven by such individuals can reach layers of complexity considered by most to be near impossible to replicate through artificing.

If not for the substantial cost and lengthy process involved in crafting a Lilus Guardian, not to mention the scarcity of talent in artificing, the expansion of the empire's industrial and military sectors would be far greater than they are today.”

~ Maello, Imperial Historian of Benemor.

The Lilus Guardian has its roots in the world of Gastor. A relic of a different age was discovered during an expedition led by Captain Rodran in the year 40AF, or 3106 of the old calendar, in the ancient ruins of Lilusimys, a mere quarter-century after the discovery of gates. When it arrived at the Empire's capital, it immediately became the subject of intense scrutiny.

During this time, Yorbin, a rather brilliant junior mage and academic, who would come to be known as the Father of Artificing and would later head the academy's research department, was cultivating a theory that suggested magic possessed a form of material essence in its purest form, and thus making it possible, in theory, to replicate its woven effects through physical means, given the correct materials.

Yorbin dedicated three years of his life to the rigorous research of the relic and succeeded in not only creating a very crude imitation of the relic and its shielding effect, but, more significantly, in unlocking the fundamental theorems of magical law. His findings ultimately formed the groundwork for magical artificing, leading to significant advancements in both the military and industrial sectors of the empire.

The first replicas, though ten times larger than the original, required the power of many accomplished mages channelling power through it in order to generate a magical shield comparable to that of a single low-rank battlemage. Within a year, numerous improvements to the design, including an integrated crystal energy source, were made to the device, which led to a substantial reduction in its size and a massive increase in its efficiency and power. Within two years, it became small enough for individual use, and shortly after that, it was introduced into the Imperial military. The Empire’s elite Pos Gurit were the only branch of the military to be equipped with the portable variant of the Lilus Guardian.

Its debut in warfare proved instrumental in achieving a swift victory at the Battle of Balamin. With the help of a charge of heavy cavalry, a Pos Gurit squad managed to cut a path to the command of the Catyllo Magistrate and rush high mage Fornus, taking him by surprise, as his magic was harmlessly negated, and before he could recover from the shock and weave a stronger spell, was impaled by four blades and died shortly after. Surviving witnesses report that the act itself was enough to cause the Magistrate, in its religious fervour, to deem that their god had forsaken them, and in his anger had stripped Formus’ magic from him in his time of need, and caused them to surrender out of despair, unaware that the small device on the soldier's sword belt had neutralised the weak magic attack.

Despite the many improvements to the manufacturing of the device, the high cost of the Lilus Guardian comes from both the skill required and the expense and rarity of the materials needed. The device demands precision, time, and complexity in order for the magic spell to be woven correctly. The minuscule complex weaves of metal inside the device must be arranged with perfect accuracy to mirror the weaves used by magic casters. A single incorrect bend or slight alteration of width in the strips of metal can result in either a non-functional device or, worse, an undesired and often fatal effect when magic is channelled through it.

Only the master artificers, such as Albraent, are skilled enough to make these devices. And even then, with a full team behind them, it takes almost a year to produce a single Lilus Guardian.

“Known among the local populace as the Shattra Kal, or "Noisy Death," this creature is nocturnal, devoid of any hair, and bears a size and weight akin to a war horse. Despite being blind, it emits a loud drumming sound that, paired with its large membranous ears, seems to provide it with an acute awareness of its immediate and distant surroundings.

This beast moves with a speed that defies its size, and the damage it can inflict with its teeth and claws is horrifying to behold. Heavy armour offers scant protection against its raw, terrifying strength, as even the most heavily armoured soldiers sustain bone-crushing injuries under the force of its blows. It does not appear to fear bright light or magic of any sort, in fact, I do not believe it fears anything. Its brutal behaviour strikes me as highly territorial, more so than predatory in nature.

Despite being hairless, the creature's skin is notably resilient, far tougher than the hardened leather the Empire can produce, and it possesses an inherent resistance to heat and magic. This has led to the creature's hide being highly sought after, transforming it into a prized commodity among those wealthy enough to afford such a rare and valuable treasure.”

~ Maelo, Imperial Historian of Benemor.

A year before the period known as the Ten-Year Lar Zal War, the Benemor Empire’s fourth army, under the command of General Berculus, landed on the Western coastal desert of the Lar Zal continent. The plan was for the army to march through the hundreds of leagues of the Silent Desert, traverse the Daggerspine mountains, and attack the empire of Hal Hassa from behind, where it lacked defences due to the natural bulwark the mountains and desert provided.

Supplies and logistics were meticulously prepared and accounted for, and the fourth army was drilled for months in advance in preparation for the conquest. Unfortunately for General Berculus, he was uninformed about the reasoning behind the Silent Desert's name. The uncanny silence of the desert was not indicative of an absence of life in the sun-baked sands. Instead, it reflected the choice of its inhabitants to maintain a silent existence for the purpose of self-preservation. The inevitable nocturnal clamour generated by a force of twenty thousand soldiers unfailingly drew the attention of the desert's apex predator.

The first time the drumming of the Shattra Kal was heard, it caused puzzlement among the sentries on watch. At first, the sound was distant and mistaken for the drumming of a woodpecker. The confusion arose from the knowledge that they were in a desert where, of course, no trees existed. Clarity came shortly after when, emerging from the shadows, scores of horrifying Shattra Kal swarmed into the encampment. As soldiers were still rousing from their slumber and fastening their sword belts, the monsters were already among them, carving a bloody path through the army.

The Shattra Kal proved so calamitous, and the efficacy of blades, bolts, and magic so woefully inadequate against these newly encountered desert nightmares, that in the grim aftermath, General Berculus issued an order for a full retreat back to the Benemor Empire to rethink their approach. Deeming the Shattra Kal too hazardous an obstacle, Benemor chose to abandon covert tactics. Instead, they decided to mount a direct assault on Hal Hassa from the North-West, a decision that ignited the decade-long conflict known as the Ten-Year Lar Zal War.

The soldiers who returned to their homeland brought with them terrifying tales of creatures they had dubbed "Woodpeckers." These stories were so spine-chilling that mothers began using them to dissuade their headstrong children from making noise and staying up past their bedtimes.

Helixa TCG: Blockchain-Powered Digital Card Game

All of our fellow cardboard crack addicts know the joys of opening booster packs - the scent of new ink, the crispness of the packaging, the exhilaration as you search for the chase rare. What truly makes this exciting is the freedom it grants you. Whether you choose to play with the cards, slot them into your trade binder, or keep them for a deck you're definitely going to build, it's all up to you.

In a traditional digital card game, this feeling isn't quite the same. You don't have the same sense of ownership. The cards you acquire can be deleted by game developers. It's more like you're renting the cards rather than owning them, and that isn't as satisfying.

This is where Helixa TCG, powered by blockchain technology, comes into play. We aim to restore that sense of ownership in the digital realm. The card you pull in Helixa TCG is yours, and this is ensured by a digital 'certificate of authenticity' that can't be modified or taken away. You're free to trade or sell your cards, just like you would with physical ones.

But there's more. We believe everyone who contributes to the game – from the players to the artists to the investors – should have a say in the game's evolution. This is where blockchain shines, allowing us to distribute decision-making power and rewards in a fair and transparent manner.

Fuel: Revving Up the Game Experience

To deliver this kind of experience, we need technology that's efficient and agile. Enter Fuel, the fastest modular execution layer.

Fuel is the high-performance engine for our blockchain. It turns the bulky digital ledger, where all the card ownership information is stored, into a swift and nimble system. It's akin to upgrading from a hefty, hard-to-navigate encyclopedia to a rapid, user-friendly digital search engine. This ensures that every in-game action, whether it's opening packs, trading cards, or voting on game updates, is quick and seamless.

Moreover, Fuel enables us to set specific rules and conditions for in-game operations like card trading. This ensures the game remains fair and secure at all times. Through this, we're creating a streamlined, unified system where all your gaming actions are managed in one place.

Scalability, Utility, and Fair Compensation with Blockchain

But why use blockchain for a digital card game? One reason is scalability. Blockchain technology helps us effectively track the active number of cards and ownership details in our ecosystem. This helps us scale the game using fewer resources compared to traditional game structures.

Then there's the question of utility. Blockchain allows your cards to have real-world value and use. It's not just about playing the game, but also about how these cards can be integrated into wider applications, like different forms of media in the Helixa universe.

Finally, we believe in fair compensation. Blockchain allows us to assign value to the creators, buyers, and sellers of the cards. For every transaction on our platform, a smart contract pays out these individuals from the platform transaction fees. This way, we ensure that everyone in the Helixa TCG ecosystem benefits.

The Helixa TCG Vision

Our ultimate goal is to offer a digital card gaming experience that's as thrilling, satisfying, and equitable as the physical card gaming experience. We want you to have true ownership of your cards, a real voice in how the game develops, and smooth, responsive gameplay.

By building Helixa TCG, we're not just creating another digital card game. We're creating a new gaming experience where you, the players, are at the heart of the game. This is the future of gaming, and we're excited to embark on this journey with you.