The Cultures of Ravreka as of 1244 EWB

The continent of Ravreka is the home of the human race. This is their cradle, abundant in tilled soil and thick woods. From the foot of the snowy mountains in the north to the shores of the southern seas, the humans have made their home, formed like clay by the different influences of the terrain, neighbors and climate.
The images below are colour coded to their residence according to the map above.

  In the far north live the people known as Ciurbella. These are men and women who have learnt to endure the worst lashings that the world can offer. While this is a cruel and harsh life, many find a joy in the fact they are seldom invaded, live off of fairly abundant wildlife and posess some of the most lucritive fishing routes. The lack of connectivity between them has left them behind in the sense of technology, so they often dorn axes, crude chestplates and a vambrace-gauntlet contraption they call a "kocca". Their true ability lies in their adaptiveness to the worst turns of weather. Come hell or highwater these people will simply tighten the skins they wear as armour and warmth before preparing a masterful ambush. Their diets consist primarily of fish, gamey animals and a special kind of bread baked beneath a brass cover and topped with a special fungus that, when dried and ground down into a powder, releases a tangy taste. Their faith is mostly pagan, and is the primary stronghold of these old beliefs. Death is often handled with sorrowful acceptance and the dead are often placed upon a lame animal or tied to the tallest tree around with their axe, then sent, or left in the case of the latter, to die with weapon in hand. The pictured warrior is likely a servant of the tribes just north of the province of Condorivera, and is pictured as cloaked by the mighty pelt of a greater Moonyote. The Ciurbella are formiddable monster hunters, priding themselves with weapons made from the bones of their family's favourite prey.

Taking their place among the winding rivers and evergreen forests of the northwest, the people of the Ascorni are a hardy and determined bunch. They had been lucky to emerge from the downpour with a large reserve of metals and undamaged smithies. This has made Ascorni-made armour and weapons highly sought after among those without the budget or patience to deal with dwarven smiths. This surplus of weapons has, however, lead to the many city-states that now took hold to immediately begin infighting for the tiniest villages and streams. The war over the Venia deltas to the very tip of the continent has begun the defacto representation of the people's headstrong, determined and passionate nature. Their diet is mostly made up of stews, roasts and berry deserts, foraged from the very forests they call home. The Father holds a tight grip over their faiths, though there are some monasteries dedicated to the minor dieties. Death is viewed as something to be avenged in a sense, be it a literal one or to simply uphold the person's values and finish their business for them - to put their souls to true rest. The knight pictured here is wearing a Miobella helmet, a pattern that became popular among lords for its floral design - something prominent upon the brigandine and tabards of the Ascorni from common soldiery to the highest warlord.

Nestled in the mighty hills live the Vinuukoron, proudly enduring. Their cities are founded upon the numerous ruins of the ancient empire sharing their name. This state existed prior to the Downpour, dominating the riverways to its west and controlling the vital mountain pass to their east and taxing each merchant that wondered these roads. Not only did they get rich from tolls, but they traded in abundant purple dye gained from the leaves of a special kind of grape which was endemic to the red soil of their hills. They also made wine from these grapes, one of the finest sorts in the whole world. Its taste has been lost to time, but that was never its main draw. This wine was special due to its ability to never spoil and continue getting better with age, and it is this quality that brought about rumours that the cellars of Myrvelier still hold several barrels aging for millenia. The people who reside there today are a shell of these powerful imperials. They are few in number, living in streets guided by whichever way the ruins do not obstruct. They stand united behind a deluded warrior king, an undead sorcerer who managed to wrestle control over his body which laid mutated and broken under a pillar of his city for thousands of years. Now uncovered, he raises legions of hoplites to restore the old crown. Despite all this, the people hold themselves as above others, as the chosen people with a sacred purpose to rule. They feast on a common species of pheasant that frequently roams their hills, and pass down recipes for a grape dessert roll. Death is viewed as a duty to the empire, as an incoming date to enlist in her army.

Standing steadfast over the lakes and rivers of the west, over its mighty woods of oak, birch and maple and marching across its planes are the Körvárda people. These are the most widespread and numerous as the keeps that held them secure against the Downpour were largely assisted by brave dwarven forces as well as Wyrmskinned colonial hydras who rode to their aid on the way to assist their emperor at Krepost Lake. Their numbers and tradition of cooperation has led them into the position of cradle for strategists and engineers. They had been the first to pioneer the use of Sangumancers for espionage and the hugely popular use of Liberiamancer-born war carts to devestate the enemy lines while ferrying troops into the fray. A Sanimancer cabal based in Iratsi has assured that the villages of this immense landmass have access to a mail network of pigeons and crows, allowing them to request medical aid of sorcerers whenever plague breaks out in their crowded and relatively unsanitary streets. Their diets are vastly varied, with specialties ranging from fried rabbit dumplings to cauliflower soups and, for desserts, travelers seek out the dandelion pudding. The noble pictured is wearing his heraldry of the Sun proudly on his collar, tunic and even cuirass. He is cowled in a "dorgi" cloak, and each of the feathers upon his helmet represents a family member waiting at home.

Riding freely across the vast plains and patrolling their vital streams, the Krátár people protect their own. They had emerged from their keeps to a wasteland resembling a tundra, with naught but the scorched stones that once held up mighty palaces to keep them company. Once home to the legendary Golden Sea, an immense field of crops that stretched along the entire coast, they were forced to till the soil by hand until they had been graced by the returning migrations of beasts; herds of horses, wild cows, ustupchki, sheep and goats. This mass migration of herbivores had been seen by many as a sign from the gods themselves and the animals became a notable symbol of worship. From then on, the Krátár people posess a unique connection to their mounts, and uphold a tradition of good manners and honourable codes for strangers encountered in the vast flatlands. They feast on a vegetable centric diet complimented by dried meats; such as the signature cabbage and dried goat stir-fry and the delectable honeyed almond kuglof, said to have been born as a fusion of Pelagekin and Mallopeion traditional foods gathered from the Withered Bloom's opening of trade. The pictured warrior is slightly above citizen class, as is noted by the "paki" on the right side of his chest. These are images of vegetables stitched and then cut out to be worn as patches fastened under a belt right above the heart, noting his contributions to the people around him, as these are the crops he grows. His status as an upholder of the honour code is denoted by the tyrian sash, and he carries a Krátár sabre, a curved blade perfect for fighting among tall grass and weeds.

Upon southern sandy beaches, with the bright blue sky reflected in crystal clear water, one will find great villas and palaces, ones that echo Myrvelier's twisting architecture. These are the homes of the Mallopeion. Native to the southern coasts and central-eastern islands of Ravreka, the Mallopeion are the descendants of those who harboured Wyrmskinned colonial troops retreating from the catastrophe at Krepost Lake, ones who emerged to the Wyrmskinned ships and the tales of their heroism across the harrowing seas. Due to this they've adopted Mormiloan culture, dressing in the style of imperials and treating their docks as a second home. They had even taken to wearing an "ephaca", or "second skin", which is a coat made from wyvern scales bound together with silk and polished in olive oil to give it a golen shine. They even wear the brazen tales of their idols upon their robes, emblazened upon the sleeves and stitched by hand in painstaking detail. They are masterful traders and artisans, making beautiful and functional tools and aesthetics with the aid of combined Ravrekan and Mormiloan knowledge. They feast on seashells and coastal crustaceans, with the juicy delicacy of Mormiloan fruit and honey frits. The trader pictured is holding a helmet adorned with peacock feathers, attempting to sell it off for extravagant prices on account of the rare metal it is forged from. His sleeves tell the tale of a soldier's journey from battle to battle before retiring to a new land he had explored and called his own. His epacha is of a blue colour and glistens as much as the absurd amount of gold embroidery on his robes.