The Chronicle of Naissus
In the year of our Lord, five centuries past, the prophet Orion, servant of the Almighty, broke the chains of our people and cast down the yoke of the Elven oppressors. By the grace of God, our twelve tribes was granted a covenant: the lands south of the sacred river, a realm of promise and of trial, known in the Elven tongue as Naissus… the land of the nymphs.
To the south of the Summer Mountains lies the kingdom of Angaria, rich and proud, ruled by Queen Isabella Von Draconia. Yet beware, for Angaria has turned its back upon the true Church. There, no archbishop holds the staff of God… instead, their queen herself dares to sit as head of a new, heretical church, where crown and altar are one. May Orion have mercy upon their souls, lest such pride call down His wrath.
Beyond the Summer Mountains lie the stern Duchy’s, where faith and sword bind men against hunger, strife, and the shadow of heresy.
Know also that the kingdom of Angaria was wrought from betrayal. Once, it was but the Duchy of Angar, yet through guile and blood it conquered both its neighbors; Baleria and Kaloria, raising itself above its peers. Thus was the false crown of Angaria forged. North of the Sommar Mountains remain but nine true Duchy’s, steadfast in their loyalty to the true and pious Church of Orion, while Angaria has fallen into heresy. Now sits Queen Isabella Von Draconia, third monarch of that traitor realm, who dares to place herself above altar and scripture alike.
For it must be remembered that only the Prophet Orion, first King of Naissus, and the leader of the twelve chieftains who followed him from bondage into freedom, were granted by God the divine right to bear the crown. Yet when Orion departed this life without heir, no single man was raised above his brethren. Instead, the twelve Duke’s were granted autonomy, each to govern the land bestowed upon him by Orion’s own hand, as his most trusted companions. Thus did the worldly crown pass into many hands, while the spiritual crown endured in one: the Holy Church. To it was entrusted the eternal guardianship of Orion’s covenant, and the Archbishop was set as its rightful shepherd and leader. Orions Holdfast became the home of the church, Orions holy throne now the seat of the archbishop.
Thus is the fate of our land: a subcontinent divided along its very heart. To the north endure the true Duchy’s, guardians of Orion’s covenant, bound in faith and duty to the holy Church. To the south festers the false kingdom of Angaria, a realm of heresy, decadence, and wanton immorality, wherein the crown and the altar are corrupted into one. And over this fallen dominion rules Isabella Von Draconia… a “queen” in flesh, yet to us a demon in spirit… whose pride defies both God and history.
Yet let it not be thought that the peril of Naissus springs only from within, nor solely from the immortal Elves beyond the northern river. For beyond the Emerald Lake, in the distant east, rise kingdoms strange and perilous, whose ways are veiled from us as night veils the stars. Thus is the Promised Land of the Twelve Tribes beset on all sides: by heresy and treachery within, by ancient foes without, and by the unknowable designs of those who dwell beyond the waters.
To the east dwell the Nahzirites, a people of stone and sand, who hide within walled cities and bow before strange idols not born of God. They clothe themselves in wisdom, yet their wisdom is but folly, for they know not the covenant of Orion nor the true light of the Almighty. Though rich in trade and cunning in craft, they remain barbarians of the soul, forever outside the promise given unto man.
Further still ride the Kharovites, children of the endless steppe, who live by horse and bow and know naught of scripture nor holy law. They are a people of fire and blood, swift to raid and swifter still to vanish into the grass-sea whence they came. Their strength is brutish, their honor fleeting, and though they boast of freedom, it is not the freedom of God’s chosen, but the wild anarchy of beasts. Verily, they too stand beyond the covenant, unworthy of crown or blessing.
And so it is written in the Holy Scripture: “the peace of Naissus is but a fleeting gift, and each generation must guard it anew, lest the darkness of ages past return once more.”
Five centuries have now passed since the Peace of the River was sworn, and I, a humble servant of the Church, perceive that it is but a matter of time before the sword is drawn anew for the fate of Naissus. The covenant is tested, the heresies multiply, and the shadows lengthen over the land of the Twelve Tribes. Yet I pray without ceasing, and I trust in the Almighty, that the light of Orion shall rise once more, and that His truth shall triumph over darkness as in days of old.
— Written in the year of our Lord, 500 after the Peace of the River.
By Brother Władysław, Scribe of the Holy Chronicle