Among the former provinces of the Sirelian Empire, Duria stands as the oldest. It wasn’t among the first provinces, but it was a nation long before Sirelia – a thousand years ago, it was an empire, built to unify the continent against a great enemy. The citizens of Duria still keep to the old ways, practicing lost magics and living in hidden cities among the trees. There are even tales of dragons the size of mountains, sleeping eternally with forests covering their backs. When Sirelia came, Duria never fell. It kept to its old ways, eventually yielding to the empire for trade and prosperity.
It came at a price. Sirelia cut out a portion of Duria’s forests in the northwestern hills, where gold ran deep. They named it Meridian, province of Sirelia. In under four decades, it grew to be a land of prosperity, wealth, and opportunity. It drew the wealthy and the poor alike, even from outside Sirelia’s borders. Duria did not take well to this neighbour. All life was sacred. Every blade of grass. Every tree. Yet Meridian had cut them all down to make way for their mines and their settlements. It was an unforgiveable act, and Duria of all places, had a long, long memory.
In the sixty-seventh year of Meridian’s existence, the city-state of Sirelia, capital of the Sirelia Empire, vanished. In its place were nothing but the seaside cliffs and the wind. Duria’s rage, which it had been cultivating since Meridian came into being, spat forth from the forests. Sirelia could no longer hold them back, and between Duria’s ancient magic and Meridian’s gold-forged armies, war broke across Avengard.
Among the former provinces of the Sirelian Empire, Duria stands as the oldest. It wasn’t among the first provinces, but it was a nation long before Sirelia – a thousand years ago, it was an empire, built to unify the continent against a great enemy. The citizens of Duria still keep to the old ways, practicing lost magics and living in hidden cities among the trees. There are even tales of dragons the size of mountains, sleeping eternally with forests covering their backs. When Sirelia came, Duria never fell. It kept to its old ways, eventually yielding to the empire for trade and prosperity.
It came at a price. Sirelia cut out a portion of Duria’s forests in the northwestern hills, where gold ran deep. They named it Meridian, province of Sirelia. In under four decades, it grew to be a land of prosperity, wealth, and opportunity. It drew the wealthy and the poor alike, even from outside Sirelia’s borders. Duria did not take well to this neighbour. All life was sacred. Every blade of grass. Every tree. Yet Meridian had cut them all down to make way for their mines and their settlements. It was an unforgiveable act, and Duria of all places, had a long, long memory.
In the sixty-seventh year of Meridian’s existence, the city-state of Sirelia, capital of the Sirelia Empire, vanished. In its place were nothing but the seaside cliffs and the wind. Duria’s rage, which it had been cultivating since Meridian came into being, spat forth from the forests. Sirelia could no longer hold them back, and between Duria’s ancient magic and Meridian’s gold-forged armies, war broke across Avengard.
Among the former provinces of the Sirelian Empire, Duria stands as the oldest. It wasn’t among the first provinces, but it was a nation long before Sirelia – a thousand years ago, it was an empire, built to unify the continent against a great enemy. The citizens of Duria still keep to the old ways, practicing lost magics and living in hidden cities among the trees. There are even tales of dragons the size of mountains, sleeping eternally with forests covering their backs. When Sirelia came, Duria never fell. It kept to its old ways, eventually yielding to the empire for trade and prosperity.
Among the former provinces of the Sirelian Empire, Duria stands as the oldest. It wasn’t among the first provinces, but it was a nation long before Sirelia – a thousand years ago, it was an empire, built to unify the continent against a great enemy. The citizens of Duria still keep to the old ways, practicing lost magics and living in hidden cities among the trees. There are even tales of dragons the size of mountains, sleeping eternally with forests covering their backs. When Sirelia came, Duria never fell. It kept to its old ways, eventually yielding to the empire for trade and prosperity.
be a land of prosperity, wealth, and opportunity. It drew the wealthy and the poor alike, even from outside Sirelia’s borders. Duria did not take well to this neighbour. All life was sacred. Every blade of grass. Every tree. Yet Meridian had cut them all down to make way for their mines and their settlements. It was an unforgiveable act, and Duria of all places, had a long, long memory.
In the sixty-seventh year of Meridian’s existence, the city-state of Sirelia, capital of the Sirelia Empire, vanished. In its place were nothing but the seaside cliffs and the wind. Duria’s rage, which it had been cultivating since Meridian came into being, spat forth from the forests. Sirelia could no longer hold them back, and between Duria’s ancient magic and Meridian’s gold-forged armies, war broke across Avengard.
Among the former provinces of the Sirelian Empire, Duria stands as the oldest. It wasn’t among the first provinces, but it was a nation long before Sirelia – a thousand years ago, it was an empire, built to unify the continent against a great enemy. The citizens of Duria still keep to the old ways, practicing lost magics and living in hidden cities among the trees. There are even tales of dragons the size of mountains, sleeping eternally with forests covering their backs. When Sirelia came, Duria never fell. It kept to its old ways, eventually yielding to the empire for trade and prosperity.
be a land of prosperity, wealth, and opportunity. It drew the wealthy and the poor alike, even from outside Sirelia’s borders. Duria did not take well to this neighbour. All life was sacred. Every blade of grass. Every tree. Yet Meridian had cut them all down to make way for their mines and their settlements. It was an unforgiveable act, and Duria of all places, had a long, long memory.
In the sixty-seventh year of Meridian’s existence, the city-state of Sirelia, capital of the Sirelia Empire, vanished. In its place were nothing but the seaside cliffs and the wind. Duria’s rage, which it had been cultivating since Meridian came into being, spat forth from the forests. Sirelia could no longer hold them back, and between Duria’s ancient magic and Meridian’s gold-forged armies, war broke across Avengard.