On The History of the Empire of Azadora – A Treatise
By: Mary Elizabeth Browning
Translated by Lyriel Elhana
(tn: As the author has been missing for 120 years and, furthermore, was human and is plainly deceased, I will update the latest happenings in the Empire since her disappearance and will endeavor to do so accurately.)
As with every story, there is a beginning. Though, with the guidance of the Order of the Magi (tn: shameless ass kissing ha ha) there will be no end to the Imperium.
For the beginning we must look backward to the time of the Plague of Smoke on the continent. Though no one really knows where the Ash Vipers came from, the general consensus is they were disrupted from their slumber beneath the surface of the planet by seismic activity linked to Draconic activity in the Charring Range in central Carletane. What is beyond doubt is the devastation of the plague they wrought on the continent. Though a cure for the plague they carry in their long, needle-like teeth has long since been found, at the outbreak of the Plague the horror was the end of many towns and cities in the Empire of Altair and Carletane.
The venom of the Ash Viper attacks the central nervous system first. This devastating assault on male humans leads to swift madness, much like the insanity of an animal afflicted with rabies. The venom creates irritability, which within a day or two leads to angry outbursts and within a day of that the final stage begins, leading to savage attacks on anyone and everyone around them. Within three days of the final stage of the plague the male dies, horribly twisted and thoroughly beyond help.
For females of the species the Plague led to a poisoning of the bloodstream and corruption of the magic within the cells, leading to a thick, oily smoke which began to seep from the victim within 12 hours. This smoke billowed from every orifice. While unknown at the time, the smoke was a result of the infection boiling the magic in the victim’s blood and subsequently flesh as well from the inside out. This phenomenon led to the sickness being called the Plague of Smoke.
The plague raced through the populace through contact with the bodily fluids of the infected and it spread rapidly, leaving devastation in its wake. It was not uncommon to find ravening packs of rabid males in mostly deserted cities under a pall of thick, acrid smoke.
While the King of Altair gathered his most loyal and important nobles within his mountain fortress of Camiers in the higher peaks of Stokefell Tops the lesser nobles were left to their own devices to deal with a plague they neither understood, nor could escape. One of these nobles was a young man named Basile Belmonte, second in line to the regional throne of the Province of Ruvia in northwestern Altair. Following his father and brother contracting the plague, Basile became ruler and quickly gathered every available man at arms and, with their families and trains of wagons, fled the destruction of Ruvia’s capital for the coast.
With no clear idea where they were going, they reached the shores of the Riven Sea. While initially intending to merely weather the storm of the Plague on the coast their plans swiftly changed as more and more cities fell to the ravages. Thus the decision was made to flee Ruvia for parts unknown. Building hasty boats the group, 15000 strong including women and children set off into the sea on their leaky, hastily built ships.
By all mathematical percentages the ships should have capsized in any of the frequent and savage storms which sweep across the Riven Sea during the warmer months of the year, the group somehow reached the southern shores of the Azora Islands On 14 Novembrius in Urtea Imperiala 6462. The refugees quickly set about building a staging base for their operations in the new lands, calling the castle which eventually jutted up from the stone of the cliffs and the bustling town at its base Duskgate.
The time of the harvest was a dark one for Basile and his followers. Various villages of native tribes performed devastating raids into their nascent kingdom, forcing the citizens back into the welcoming arms of the partially built keep for safety. By Apirilius things were growing grim. Many of the crops had been destroyed in the brazen raids and, with food supplies running low, Basile was faced with a stark choice: either go on the offensive in alien lands or be forced back into the sea.
By the early part of Mairelius Basile had managed to arm and field an army of nearly 2000 strong warriors, many veterans of the frequent wars fought between rival lords in Altair and set out toward the nearby tribal village of Sillasalu (the modern city of Sillas on the southwestern shore of Azora). Catching the sleeping village largely unaware, the former Altairans quickly seized the village, enslaving the inhabitants and sending them back to Duskgate as forced labor for the farms their people had destroyed.
Emboldened by their quick victory, Basile and his army continued the campaign through the brutal Azoran time of frost. Often hungry, always cold, the army nevertheless won victory after victory and the native tribes melted under the fierce onslaught. Finally, on 16th Sextenarius Urtea Imperiala 6463 Basile besieged and eventually took the largest village they’d yet encountered on the banks of a wide, raging river they named the Shefsby.
As he looked around at the fertile floodplains and verdant hills Basile decided that this broad valley nestled by the sheltering hills to the north and east, the broad Shefsby River on the west and the towering Mirrored Cliffs to the south would be the capital of his new Kingdom and the city of Bastion was born. To symbolize his complete break from the continent a new calendar was created. The Empire of Azadora was founded on 18th Sextenarius Imperial Year 0.
For the next 16 years Basile waged near constant war, subjugating, and enslaving many local tribes. Others willingly joined the conquerors and on Martelius 22 IY 17 the final tribes south of the Riven Divide were conquered or driven north. Unfortunately, as the saying goes, when the hound is away the cats will play and the tribes in the Brie Glor west of the Brie River rose up and invaded. With no time to celebrate their victory the tired army with its exhausted King turned south, marching through many days until they met the combined tribal armies of the Brieans at the town of Arklee. Despite its exhaustion the Imperial Army crushed the Brieans. The tribes broke and scattered, the Imperial Army quick on their heels.
Unfortunately, in Juenelius Emperor Basile took ill, dying three days later on the 14th. The emperor’s young son, Basile II quickly took the Imperial reigns and three years later on 34 Octinilius the last rebel tribes in Brie Glor surrendered. With the influx of new subjects the army quickly reconstituted itself. King Basile II’s War Minister, Ciaran Warren, quickly rebuilt the army using revolutionary tactics and formations.
When Basile II marched north three years later to subjugate the tribes beyond the Riven Divide he did so at the head of the mighty Imperial Legion. The northern tribes proved resilient and skilled in hit and run tactics and the war beyond the Divide raged for nearly ten years. Finally, at the battle of Sioa the northern tribes were subjugated at last, and the entire island of Azora was under Imperial control.
After nearly thirty years of continuous war the emperor was finally able to work on consolidating his vast holdings, rewarding many of his bravest soldiers with lands and titles. Peace settled upon the island finally and her people flourished. Many former slaves were able to buy their way out of servitude and the population surged. Hesitant contact was established with the Elves inside the Mistlands, the vampires in Brieland and even the Dwarves in the Iron Mountains of Northern Sarland established trade ties with the powerful Empire.
Meanwhile, trade ships had established routes with the Western Isles and within 15 years the prosperity of the Empire was legendary. Goods flowed along its legion-crafted roads and through its teeming western ports, particularly Wolfden and Ayrith. The city of Bastion grew rapidly, the flood plains quickly filling with ramshackle buildings stretching toward the sky in a desperate bid to house the influx of new residents moving to sample the riches of the capital of the Empire.
Meanwhile, Basile II grew ill and weak. Years of being on campaign had taken their toll and on 19 Septilinius IY 48 Basile II died. His son and heir, Ashton, ascended the throne. Ashton was a shrewd and intelligent man with a mind for finance as well as war, having trained in its art under Ciaran Warren himself. Those traits, combined with a desire to expand the Empire even further led to a large fleet of transports being built in Wolfden.
Five years later, on 2 Quilintius IY 53 10 Legions boarded the transports and the war to take the Western Isles began. It was a war of ambition poorly planned, despite Emperor Ashton’s training, and the skills of the Legion and its commanders. A war, as many at the time quietly whispered to themselves, of hubris.
After glowing initial results the Legion got quickly bogged down in the frequent rains which lash the Western Isles during the time of the sun. With its supply line anchored to the ports on the eastern shores of the western Isles the legions were reluctant to travel far enough inland to take on the tribes which had banded together under the leadership of the newly minted High Chief Keelan Mannion. While tethered to the coast the advanced units of the Legion found themselves the target of frequent hit and run raids. Using guerilla tactics and the benefit of land they knew well the tribes began to extract a heavy toll on the Imperial Legion.
Aware of the difficulties his army was facing Ashton dispatched four additional Legions, leaving barely two left to keep the home island safe. With the Legion bogged down far from home across the Western Sea various tribes, particularly in Sarland began to band back together, raiding Imperial towns and cities in brazen attacks. Moving one of the remaining two Legions north to Sarland proved fruitless as the marauders simply melted into the deep forests and high peaks of Sarland, vanishing like ghosts.
To make matters even worse the Vampires, long passive within their castles along the southern coast of Brieland began to attack human settlements in the area, making things particularly trying for the remaining Legion to keep Azora safe and free from marauders and bandits.
To make matters even worse still for the suddenly disjointed Empire rumors began to spread that, with the Plague of Smoke behind them and the Kingdom of Altair once more rising in power, the nobles began to look northward toward Azadora and tales of its enormous wealth. The Altairan King, Cyrille, began to collect his formidable navy and ready his armies to enforce the fact that Azadora had been founded by a subject in thrall to the throne he now sat upon. In his mind a debt had to be paid and the cost would be the entirety of the Empire.
With the majority of his Legions bogged down in a war against an enemy which would not engage in a decisive battle in the north, west and abroad and the threat of a major continental power mustering her forces for a war which many nobles in Azadora felt was legitimate, Emperor Ashton felt the dogs were closing in on him.
On the cold night 20 Decembrius IY 59 Ashton took as much gold as he could carry and fled Bastion castle. Taking a ship from Wrensea he fled across the Sundered Sea and sought refuge at the royal court of Oskea, leaving his younger sister, Laura, as the new empress.
