Ul-Mur-Tus, the Father Tree

The Ul-Mur-Tus, the Father Tree, was an ancient and the largest of all of the ancient trees of Northern Jinsa, in the Ash-Ti Great Valley. A type of tree that was believed to have come into existence at the dawn of the natural world, and were planted by the gods themselves, especially the god of nature, Silvanus. Believed to have been in the earliest days the nature deities personal pet project, the Great Trees, as they were known, were spoken of with a nigh divine reverence by the residence of the norther subcontinent of Jinsa, in the Era Hereticas known as The Land of the Great Trees. Now though, it is simply land under the patrimony of a ruthless Empire.   Most spoke of the trees with great respect, wonder, and awe and would visit them and their magnificent and beautiful forests of towering branches, thick and light filtering canopies, towering hundreds of feet into the air. Their bark as thick and strong and shields forged of iron and steel, their leaves said to bare medicinal components of amazing degree if one could find a perfect speciment that had fallen from their holy branches naturally, a rare occurrence.   While your average tourist merely observed and respected the trees and the cultural significance they posed for the natives there, the Cethron of the northern subcontinent did in many respects truly worship the trees. Finding a bond with these silent giants. The people and trees seemingly existed in communion, the Cethron never ever disturbing the great trees, building bridges across their branches and their unique Tree Fortresses with wood brought from outside these great trees. It was widely speculated that should a war ever break out against the Cethron from the outside, attacking them would be near suicide. With the God Claw range protecting their villages and redoubts with his hazardous and active mountains with snowstorms, landslides, wracking winds and freezing temperatures, and unprepared army would be greatly disadvantaged and picked apart. Then from the Great Valley, it would be worse.   The dense copse of trees and their canopies combined with the well known innate divination bound magic the souls of the Cethron had, they would be able to see where their adversaries would be and strike as they arrived, arrows whistling through the trees to tear apart invaders. The trees, and at the heart of the trees, the Ul-Mur-Tus were as deeply apart of the Cethron and their culture as any other aspect.   Ul-Mur-Tus itself though was unique. Standing at near double that of even the highest Great Trees, and broader at its base still, the tree was truly titanic. Towering into the air near the site of the city of Mentaris is, it was said the tree would take the breath of any lucky enough to be granted access to that sacred deep area of the Great Valley. For the Cethron guarded it with fierce reverence and loyalty, never to allow any who would wish the Father Tree harm entry.   For one day the sanctity of their Father Tree and their Great Valley would come to the ultimate test, and ultimately break. For the War of Consolidation began, and with that of course came the forces of the usurper god Harbinger and his ravenous hordes, organized legions, and elite Immortals. Yet unlike so many other nation states, baronies, duchies, empires and great civilizations before them, the Cethron would be the hardest to be taken and broken. Utilizing their great trees and the bonds they had forged amongst their great and high branches and canopies the invaders would be repelled at seemingly every possible turn. Invasions into the mountains met with mountain equipped expert guerilla fighters hiding in caves and expertly disguised ambush sites, but even in the Great Valley it was worse.   Eventually, so fed up was Harbinger with the lack of forward progress, he demanded the trees, one by one be brought down, no matter how long it took. And indeed it took years. Years of grinding attritional warfare as new and unique technology was introduced from the ever increasing factories and laboratories of The Empire from their claimed land. Slowly, the rolling and beautiful hills that was so perfected by the Great Trees was reduced, one by one. The stumps branded and cursed, never to grow again, to remind the world of what such resistance earns those who do so. Now in the modern day of The Empire, the once beautiful rolling hills adorned with those perfect Great Trees is a harrowing sight. Bluffs that once took the breath away with beauty, now steal ones breath with a profound sense of loss. Greyed by a thousand years of their curse-brand and hate granted stolen life, the stumps dot the horizon as far as the eyes can see from mountain to mountain, left to right, front to the horizon. Destruction. Devastation.   For the great Father Tree had been the last of the Great Trees to fall. So thick its bark, so deep its routes it is said an entire company of Imperial engineers and whole teams of Immortals for their immense strength were needed to eventually break its bark, shatter its routes, and pull down the great tree. In one final insult that would forever scar the psyche of the Cethron, their glorious Father Tree would be shaven down, cut apart, butchered, massacred. Carved into various pieces of wooden furniture that are still to this day traded about the Empire as relics, heirlooms, artifactso of history, the most infamous of which know resides in Immortal General Shakan's office in The Assembly, the Father Desk. Carved from a central, most ancient section of the Father Tree, the Father Desk was the desk brought to the now desolate Great Valley where upon the final surviving Cethron leaders signed the Treaty of Jinsa. As the final surviving faction that could claim core ownership over provinces and sections of the continent, their final surrender marked the total capitulation of the continent. Yet so great was their resistance, so great their honor and martial prowess, Harbinger decreed their mentally, spiritually, and physically broken people be allowed to live their lives with less overbearing Imperial oversight in the immediate future and an immunity from brutal reprisals and rebuilding periods that other continents were going through.   For the fate of the Father Tree is one that many could relate to, be it they themselves, or their very people. Destroyed, warped, corrupted, morphed, dominated. For those who dare to stand against the Empire, Harbinger, and his mandate, are those who are sure to suffer the same fate as the Cethron and their beloved Father Tree.