The Breaking of Chains
The Beast of Burden
The myths and legends of the Dryads aren’t really what you’re here for, are they? No, I wouldn’t think so. As rich in culture and knowledge as Banewood is, nowadays its significance on the maps of Dragsa is singular—as a patch of land yet to be conquered. An asylum to the beastkin that broke the chains of slavery, opposing the reign of Glorious Anara and spitting on her might. But are you curious enough to ask: how? How did the beasts manage to win their freedom?
He was born as a seventh son to a dam that could not name her foals. The pedigree was of no importance, as they were all bred much as draft horses were—to spend their lives working tirelessly, hauling goods and plowing fields. His tail cut at the dock, blinders permanently fastened to his head and a bit keeping him from making a sound, he was broken in, as were all of his kin. Had any of his slavers bothered to look closer, however, they would have noticed the hatred shining red in his eyes. The determination to persevere out of spite; the heart breaking with every hit of a crop that fell on a child’s back. Much like the humans of eons ago, he gave himself a name—Medi. And a purpose—to be free. And there must have been enough Chaos in him, passed down through generations and mutation and magic, because as he changed, the world changed with him.
The Harbingers of Change
There were three signs given by fate, harbingers sent to warn Yv’anda of what was to come. A red moon, to bathe the land in blood; a cyclone, as wild as a mustang, to destroy everything in its path; and a dream that all Kutauri dreamt on the same night.
The Rebellion
What we know for sure is this: two hundred years ago, when the sun rose to a land tinted red, Medi rode the fields he used to plow, his master bound and dragged behind him. As the blood of the man seeped into the ground, Kutauri answered the battle cry of one of their own. There was no rhyme nor reason to the fight that followed, only desperation driven not by fear of death and pain, but by a yearning to follow a dream. Medi picked up a rusted scythe and with madness in his eyes, cut a path through the slavers. One by one, the heads of their tormentors rolled. No blade, no arrow, no spell touched him that day.
The Wrath of Anara
The news of the rebellion reached the Fortress and the Queen demanded blood. Soldiers and beastkin were dispatched to deal with the unruly centaurs. In three days, they found the escapees and planned to have them all killed. Medi prayed to all of the gods, known and unknown, and when the first raindrops fell on his bloodied back, he rose once more to face the enemy. And though he led not warriors, but workers, to battle, there was no hesitation in their hearts. Just as Yv’anda were forewarned, nature itself aided the Kutauri; the clouds swirled in angry circles, the wind howled the battle cries of the oppressed centaurs.
The consequences of the rebellion were severe. The Queen did not take the failure of her soldiers kindly and thus, the Purges of Beasts became another bloodstain on the history of Deuslair. In the weeks following the battle, Anara ordered the death of ten thousand beastkin, most of them Kutauri. Women and children were tortured and their mangled corpses decorated the streets of the Fortress. Men were sent to mines and forced to work themselves to death in the futile hope of saving their families. Nevertheless, the cruelty of the Queen could not vanquish the sudden hope of beastkin.
The Sanctuary of Banewood
Medi led his people to Banewood, and as Yv’anda welcomed them with open hands, the forest gained a second name—Asylum. There’s no solid evidence and even the Dryads would be hard-pressed to explain the shift in the very fabric of the world that changed the weather around Banewood during that year. Frequent storms have been known to hit The Truncatop Mountains and a blizzard was quite normal for Lake Frothloch. However, after the freeing of beastkin, it felt as if nature had grown sentient. Every time the Queen gathered her forces to strike against Banewood, her generals had to battle not only Kutauri, but terrible weather conditions as well.
The Legacy of Medi
To this day, the winds around Banewood whisper the name of Medi, and the trees stand tall in defiance of the oppression that once sought to crush them. The beastkin have found their sanctuary, and though the Queen’s armies may still march, it is no longer a question of conquest. It is a question of survival. The story of Medi and his people is not one of mere rebellion—it is a testament to the indomitable spirit of those who dare to dream of freedom.
And so, dear adventurer, I leave you with this: when you walk the borders of Banewood, listen carefully to the wind. It carries the echoes of a battlecry that was never silenced, a defiance that still lingers in the hearts of those who call the forest home.
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