Etunas

Qadal is a divided world, splintered among weak and greedy olûndi beholden to weaker and greedier Eshan. Back and forth the misguided faithful struggle, Serving their own purposes through the clever guise of Eshanic doctrine. The Aemar, spawned from the devious and cruel Aebaster, are the worst of all! They multiply in manners that shame rats and claim swathes of the global for themselves. Yet, what improvement is granted? What wisdom displayed? Those who are intelligent know to distance themselves from power, and those who are pure are crushed by its force. Those who are weak seek strength, and those who are fools seek wisdom. That is how it has been since the earliest days, and how it is now. The result is chaos in its most raw and untamed form. Those who are unworthy rise to power, and in their reign the glories of civilization are brought to ruin. There was a time, however, when Qadal was ruled by order and reason. Peace was maintained, and prosperity became the call word of the many. That time was the era of Étunas, the realm of Atûn in the olûndari world. During its height, from the -1,500s to the year zero, Atûn lived among his people and delivered unto them the power of Vojûnic Vojûn. With his wisdom and guidance, the realm grew strong and lands never before seen, such as those in Voryndal, were discovered. The realm of Étunas became the most powerful empire the world had ever seen, a glorious chapter of history in which the precepts of the Eshan and Divine Mandates lived in harmony with the crude nature of olûndi.   The expansion of Étunas and the globalization of Qadal was the most enduring legacy of the Ascension era. The process began more than a century after the creation of Vojûn and ascension of the Etayen as Qadal's greatest race. First the power of Atûn's gift facilitated the creation of vast cities of smooth stone, glistening arches, and temples of woven tree boughs. These settlements were clean and well organized, a far call from the dreary and dull hamlets that existed throughout the rest of Qadal at the same time. Their civilization was elevated to greatness as they mastered the Betrayer's gift. Etal became a realm of magnificent cities defended from the outside world by tangled jungle along the ocean shore occupied by pale blue constructs of Vojûn. Those who were foolish enough to enter without a guide soon found themselves lost until disease or Vojûnic monstrosities brought a brutal demise. In that way the Etayen remained isolated from the rest of the world in their paradise. The Etûletal became arrogant and self centered in this time, believing that all existence was in place for their benefit. The water was their shield, the trees and stones were the materials for their art, and Vojûn was the bridge between their olûndari realm and imolûndariity. Atûn obServed them with pride; they were growing splendidly. After the Etayen properly adjusted to their unique powers, they set forth into the world at large, bursting from their homeland like an animal does the womb. Before them lay the rest of Qadal, stunted and weak, just waiting from the right hands to steer it to glory.

The promise of Atûn remained unfulfilled throughout the Awakening, as the Etayen grew in strength and number. Under his guidance, they built cities of smooth marble amongst the glades of Etal, living peacefully as spanned across their homeland. During this time, Atûn spoke to them about the secrets of creation and of Qadal’s making; they learned of the celestial bodies and their masters, and of the power of Eshara that brought them into existence. It is for that reason that so many creations bear Etayen names. For millennia, the Etayen remained in Etal, believing that their home was the only land of olûndi in Qadal. Atûn lied to them in this regard or was at least vague on detail. The Etayen knew of the objects in Vussalas, but Atûn did not allow them to travel beyond Etal or interact with other olûndi. They were entirely separate worlds. In order to maintain this ruse, Atûn surrounded the shores of Etal with dense jungle, and populated it with horrid constructs of his own Eshara- wraithlike beings that moved between the boughs of wilting growths and vines. They hunted foreigners who arrived on the shores and slew Etayen who sought to escape the continent. The Etayen called them Ethûl, or spirit keepers, and spoke of them with a hushed and fearful reverence. During the Awakening, the shores of Etal were the tomb of hundreds of unfortunate sailors and explorers who happened upon the shores of the continent. In order to combat these arrivals, Atûn created another layer of defense. He conjured deep, churning currents miles out from the shoreline. All further exploration of Etal was thus halted.   The realm of Etal continued to develop in isolation throughout the latter years of the Awakening, growing under the careful eye of Atûn. Its population expanded to more than a million, with beautiful cities sprawling through the heartlands. The capital of Etal, the home of the Vishtal kings and Atûn, was built during these later years as well. It was called Amikiras, or the home of the master. It was situated on an island separate from the rest of Etal, far to the southeast. The only way to reach it was by ship or a bridge that spanned the distance between them. In the case of the former, travel was made difficult by the churning waves created by Atûn, while in the case of the latter, master swordsmen defended the span. All actions of government were dictated there, and the power of Atûn radiated from its spires.   In the year -1500, the Empire of Étunas truly came into existence as a global force, rather than a distant haven of a sheltered race.   Aemarda rebelled against Étunas in the year -7, led by a Valgoran chief named Corgastor. He rallied support among the other fearful and angry tribes of north Everos- those who had escaped direct rule by the Etayen. When word of this insurrection reached Etal, Atûsbal Vishtal Taeyoril ordered for the final conquest of northern Everos. It was time, he said, that Étunas finish its rightful domination of that land, just as it had been promised to them by Atûn. The master himself was more skeptical, however. Rebellions were not uncommon in Everos, but the organization and determination of this new wave was greater than those before. Over the course of a few months, one Aemar and his allies were able to rally the other tribes under a single banner, an unprecedented circumstance. Atûn departed Amikiras shortly after the news arrived, traveling to the spire where his power was strongest. He feared the meddling of Aebaster in this rebellion. The Eldest was weakened from the creation of Aemarda, but he had reserved power for some future purpose.   Devastation followed in the wake of Atûn’s death. A great ailment known as the Heart Blight plagued the Etayen race, weaking their physical and mental facilities. With racial decline came temporal decline, and the realms which once swore loyalty severed themselves. Demhezzar, Eurobasar, Neyasi, Corgastodmar, Grathon, Daorhu, Elivas, and other people rose in violence. At the same time, old tensions between Etûletal and Voletal flared once more, causing the colonial domains to rebel. Amasghal, Nathrovas, Jequasghal, Zorisghal, and Afrasghal broke with only minor bastions of loyality power.

Far in the southern reaches is an enigmatic wasteland. It borders the realm of Atûsbalas, yet the people of Etal share no neighborly compassion with it. Not enough is known of the manners and history of that southern territory who flows down toward the southernmost ice caps of the world. The Etayen know this grand expanse as the Great Southern Land, or Karossusdal in their native tongue.   In ancient epochs prior to the creation of the Etayen, the realm of Karossusdal was an important location for the Eshan. Busy agents of creation traversed that terrain to pass between Voryndal and Qadal with ease. During the First Feud, Eshanic warriors of Aebaster and Ácolitus fought over that land for access to new frontiers. Remnants of that bloodshed remain in greater profusion in Karossusdal than anywhere else in Esha. Prototypical cities, hilltop gathering sites, and riverside refuges may all be found. Following the Feud, the olûndi race of Ebal’eshanic creation made regular use of the region as a migration waypoint between Qadal and Voryndal. It was proper to simultaneously avoid the ire of the Alor’eshan, as Atûn’s people knew nothing of the place, and circumvent the domains of hostile rivals.   Karossusdal was a prominent in the mythology and perceptions of the Etayen people. Details of the matter are written elsewhere but suffice to mention that Karossusdal was the furthest destination of a world which was believed to terminate with eternal seas to the north, east, and west.   After the collapse of Étunas, the threat of that untamed land once more burdened the minds of the Etayen people. For centuries it remained untouched, and from this inaction came strange beings and cultures which gradually slithered northward. It was not until the reign of Vishtal Nekrosaur Atûsbal in the 900s when the Etayen returned their attention in force to Karossusdal.

Unlike the innumerable racial peers spread across Esha, the Etayen did not experience history as a gradual evolution of certain developing identities and theories. It is worthy to note the manners in which the Etayen differ in their alternate but hightly developed models.   Two measures of time telling are prominent among the Etayen which separate them from their Qadayen peers. The first is time measured in accordance with ancient calendars before the Ascension. In those ancient epochs, time was determined upon a single continuum which travelled unabated through the ages. Atûn offered the first date on this calender, being the creation of Olûllosia after the First Feud rather than including the Feuding Era as the Aemar. This means that the year 3500 according to the Everosi calender is 11,500 in the corresponding Etayen iteration.   The second is the alignment of the year zero with the beginning of the Etayen Ascension. This is vaguely comparable with the Aemar model, but their version places zero upon the death of Atûn, symbolizing the rise of Aemardic empires to come in later eras. Between them, there is about a 1500-year discrepancy. The year 1150 in the Everosi calender is 2650 for the Etayen, whereas the year 3468 for the Aemar is 4968 for the Etayen. In exchange, the dates prior to the Ascension are off-course between Aemar and Etayen calendars as well.

Month of Heaving. In accordance with most Qadayen calendars, the Etayen model begins when the final vestiges of the winter snow disappear. Emotionally, the burden of cold darkness subsides, causing the grey shades of their skin to brighten. Much alike a tearful child, the miserable times of crying are followed by a relieved heaving and breathing. We are alive, and the world continues.

Month of Joy. After the trembling exhales of a recovering people comes joy. It is a warm sensation, coming from the depths of the body. It is a profound release that affairs are in order. A new year is blooming like the field flowers and you will thrive within it. The Etayen race emerges from their homes, rising into the light in merriful festivities and excitment. Indeed, the outpouring of positive emotion is such that Etayen leap and sprint and tumble with glee in the spring-time slush.

Month of Compassion. Once one’s eyes are turned from self-preservation, they turn toward loved ones. Among the Etayen, the month of Unartik is reserved for reconnecting with family. This is particularly important for a race whose families grow so large and become so dispersed with time. Voyages between Etal and the various colonies are made, while local branches ride forth to meet relations. During this same time, various works regarding a shared dynasty’s wealth or properties are undertaken.

Month of Fraternity. As known to all, beyond the family is community. In the month of Velûntis, wider Etayen communities reunite to celebrate the bountiful year and beauty, while also pursuing works of construction, art, or organization for common betterment. This might include shrines, fortifications, or other objects beyond a single dynasty’s perview.

Month of Contentment. The season is right; the light of Eshabal is bright. Now the Etayen settle themselves into a rather free workflow. Personal labors, artistic endeavors, or machinations are often undertaken during this season. This accompanies the extant work of farming labor or trade-works, of course. Whatever the case, the season is meant to weigh light on Etayen shoulders.

Month of Celebration. Following a productive half of the year, the Etayen celebrate a middling year passing. It is not a single event, but numerous, localized festivities between dynasties and communities. The objective is to honor the zenith of the year, when emotional bliss stands highest. Indeed, seasons will only become worse with time.

Month of Foreboding. The celebrations must always end. This month is when the proverbial revelers are returning home, leaving the world strangely silent in their absence. Yet, the world itself does not cease. A new season looms on the horizon, threatening an existence without comfort.

Month of Remembering. In this month the Etayen consider the beauty of what once was- the rise and zenith just before the downward tumble. It is the sensation one feels when recognizing days will never quite be so delightful. The fair faces and fairer times are recalled in the softest song.

Month of Unrest. Something has been forgotten- a task left undone. Not everything one hoped to achieve was achieved in time. A building left damaged or the gardens unclipped. This month is the last gasp of significant productivity during the year. Etayen across the world dash to make their innumerable loose ends meet before the world is besieged in snow.

Month of Panics. It is also known as the month of striding. In this month the first signs of winter’s snow drift upon the land. The period of productivity and safety is over, yielding to a new period of endurance and hibernation. Anything left undone cannot be done, or those who deny it struggle to complete the year’s untouched labors.

Month of Fear. The snow comes thicker now. If not snow, the season degrades into some manner of unpleasant morass. In this month the Etayen wait with bated breath to see if their preparations for the idle season were sufficient. Those who were unsuccessful howl with a terrible lament while those more fortunate or diligent await the petitions of their neighbors.

Month of Tearful Sorrow. All hope is departed. Those who failed to prepare themselves seek refuge among neighbors or suffer amid the ruins of their failure. Lutaris is a dark time, when a household is isolated much unto itself, reliant only in fleeting supply ventures. No work is achieved outdoors, whereas the emotional burden produces macabre internal works. Bleak poems and barren songs ring hollow from the dwellings of a race too emotionally sensitive to endure the season with a straight face.

The Atûsbal of Etal, the lord of the Etûletal, and the chosen son of Atûn is Unain Thin’tak Sekoras, known as the Seventh Strider. He is the cruel and domineering head of the usurping Unain dynasty that stole power from the reigning Vishtal family in the early 3400s. That was a mere 50 years ago. The dynasty they replaced had ruled Etal since the Awakening, when Atûn still walked among them. The usurpation of power is a common thing in the rest of Qadal, but the changing of Etal's regime was a matter of cataclysmic change. The Vishtal, by one branch or another, had always guided Etal and the Council of Amikiras with determination and conServative wisdom. Indeed, when Atûn died in the year zero, Atûsbal Taeyoril ordered a retreat of all Etayen from the rest of Qadal until their deity's return. Atûn never did return, and the Vishtal never recovered from the shock. With some dissenting jerks and starts, the Vishtal kings and queens oversaw a steady decline of Etayen influence in Qadal. In response to the fall of Étunas, powers such as the Ghetunbalastod ast Corgastor, Eurobasar Tresivar, Neyasi Trade Confederate, Banbaljir, the Voletal Successor domains, and others, at various times, came to the fore of international politics. Etal, in the meantime, remained recluse, defended on the far side of the Semyr Sea by the vast shoreside jungles grown by Atûn during the Awakening.   Polticial change came slowly, but bitterness and resentment grew over time among the ruling class of Etal, most notably among the illustrious Council of Amikiras that advised the Vishtal monarchs. Their grievances, though not consistent between all members, shared the same theme. They, by and large, had come to the realization that Atûn has dead, and would remain dead indefinitely. Atûsbal Taeyoril had denied this in the years following Atûn's death, and his successors clung to this sentiment. After the Great Conflict in 2304 in which the Voletal Kingdoms were broken, the discontentment grew sharply. Over the following centuries the Council of Amikiras implored the Vishtal rulers to   The Unain dynasty that took power completely reworked the structures of power and control in Etal, from the roles of city governors to the divisions of power between civil and military government. To properly understand the Etal that the Unain dynasty had altered, however, a backwards glance must be cast through the ages to the long line of Vishtal monarchs. Without that perspective, the new regime may seem entirely alien.   In the millennia before the rise of the Unain dynasty, the government of Etal was divided between two branches: the military families and the civil dynasties. The former was comprised of a Council of Amikiras leaders of prominent families that organized the military of Etal and were organized in rank based upon the number and quality of troops they could muster. For that reason, it was not an uncommon practice for lords of the council to forsake the people of well being of their lands in other to muster more troops and raise their position in the council. On the other side is the civil government, which centers on the Atûsbal and works in conjunction with the military branch. The Atûsbal can appoint governors and officials to help maintain the Etayen domain, and these figures have theoretical authority over the military families. The time when this is reversed is when the Atûsbal grants special permissions to the leading military families to operate with full freedom in a dire situation. The Unain dynasty was one such leading family, and in the years before the usurpation they were the foremost in power. The rhetoric of their new regime was a return to greatness and the restoration of Atûn by the way of war. This in effect completed the process of militarization and radicalism within Etal, for the military branch was now one in the same as the civil branch. The state was now a tool for war.   The most enduring aspect of Etayen government is the Council of Amikiras, based on the island of Amikiras, off the coast of Etal which operates as the continental capital. Unlike the governments of Daorhu, Aemar, and other races, the Etayen did not wield power for the sake of further power. Instead, governance was just another among innumerable skills to be examined and mastered over time. The objective is something known as Thamikir, or harmony in their tongue. The premise is that perfect government facilitates harmony, which is the gauge of a successful civilization. Chaos and decline mean failure of a profoundly severe variety. The goal of the Council of Amikiras and its members is to epitomize the highest ideals of rule as defined by the most perfectionist race in existence. It is no simple endeavor. For this reason, the selection process for its constituent members is rigorous. In ancient times, Atûn himself chose the Etayen who would assist and advise the Atûsbal. After his death, the decision fell upon the Atûsbal him or herself along with the sitting members of the council.   The recently installed Unain dynasty completely broke down and rebuilt the old structures of power in Etal, separating themselves from the Vishtal legacy of rule. Atûsbal Thin’tak Sekoras ended the divide in power between the Council of Amikiras by stripping the 66 of all practical powers but maintaining them as an advisory body. In a manner similar to any traditional Etûletal, Thin’tak Sekoras respected the expertise of the technocrats of the Council but rejected the value of their practical control. His ideological rebirth of Etal was modeled on the reign of Bal’gorod the Risen, who usurped control of Casbard from Aeyet’norn Calimnyr decades before the great conflict. The new reigme was totalitarian, who not overtly oppressive, and required Etayen to swear loyalty and Service to the Unain dynasty. Opposing constructs of political and social control, beyond the Council, were dissolved as well; the reclusive Temple of Atûn, free masters of trades and skills, opposing dynasties, and Etayen from outside Etal were all monitored and silenced. These were steps taken to restore Etal to a position of power and greatness after centuries of decline under the rule of the Vishtal monarchs.

The children of Atûn have historically been unified within the confines of Etal. The years of Atûn's reign solidified the identity and cultural of Etal, forging them into a single nation rather than a collection of disparate factions. This put them in a position of unique advantage in the world. The other realms of Qadal were not so fortunate. They were divided along cultural, religious, and early political lines, allowing them to cascade toward destruction and chaos during the turbulent centuries before the founding of Étunas. That kept them weak and vulnerable to external forces, which the Etayen capitalized upon as they washed over the rest of the world during the Ascension. Divisions still existed among the Etayen, for it is an inherent flaw of sentient life to squabble and fight. However, those conflicts never reach the depths of visceral and all-consuming violence that is seen elsewhere in Qadal.   The casual observer might be led to believe government in Etal is divided between powerful dynasties whose progeny carry on family lines and power for centuries. That is not the case, or at least not significantly. Dynasticism does exist as a concept to Etayen, but it does not bear the same personal and political importance as it does in the rest of Qadal. In truth, only a few dozen notable dynasties exist now or have existed among them since the days of Étunas. The primary reason for it, beyond an inherent disinterest among the Etayen for tightly bound families, is the fact that a single dynasty held control beyond all others for millennia. The venerable Vishtal family, whose roots were buried deep in the earliest epochs of Etal's history, ruled in the name of Atûn for over 5,000 years. When Atûn himself died in the year zero, the Vishtal's continued to rule with an isolationist grip over the following millennia. It is only within the past half century, around 3400, that they were overthrown by the militant Unain dynasty. The result of that tight grasp on power made the concept of political dynasticism, which is the most prominent form of the idea elsewhere, almost irrelevant. Atûn had chosen the Vishtal, so how could any family hope to compete? The Etayen began to look inward for ways to Serve Atûn, shedding any significance of dynasticism that might have remained. They adopted craft skills, honed military prowess, and dabbled in literature in their pursuit to find meaning in their multi-century life spans. This gave birth to a unique form of personal and governmental control seen nowhere else in Qadal.   The system that arose is called technocracy, wherein Etayen gain respect, renown, and wealth through their mastery of trades and arts. Those who are young often come under the wing of a master artisan, writer, warrior, or whatever they choose to begin the long path of mastery for themselves. Decades of work follow as the young Etayen learns every aspect of the trade, from the broad principles down to the most careful nuances. In due time, the apprentice may choose to leave his or her master, or the master may wish to release the apprentice. The former seems clear enough, for in time the apprentice would wish to strike out on their own to fully master an art. The latter is more confounding to the outside mind. Why would a master release their apprentice against the other's will, barring any outstanding offenses or disagreements? That lies in the importance of the arts in the Etayen technocracy. To be a master in an art or craft is an unrivalled honor, and one that many strive centuries to achieve. Therefore, it is not uncommon for master's to jealously guard their trade and eject apprentices or students that have done too well in too short a time. The only response an apprentice or student might have in the case of ejection is to either beg the master to reconsider, which does not work often, or to offer some significant payment to be kept in training. This could be monetary but can also include Servitude or promises not to practice the craft or art outside the bounds of the master. It is a ruthless system at times, and one that can rival traditional dynasticism in terms of personal disputes and rivalries. History has many tales of apprentices who have successfully surpassed their masters, or of masters who have undermined and ruined an insubordinate apprentice.   The concept of the technocracy has engrained itself within the culture of the Etûletal, to the point where profession supplants titles of rank and dynasty. When an Etayen becomes a recognized master of an art, craft, of martial skill, they replace all former names and titles. To be formally declared a master among the Etayen, one must be recognized as a master by the Council of Amikiras, which is the advising body to the Atûsbals of Etal and itself composed of masters. If that honor is achieved, then it is common for the newly named master to shed all other surnames and titles in favor of that which they worked hard to achieve. For example, there is Zorius the Newcomer, in which the title "Newcomer" reflected his exploits as an explorer; In the more distant past there are tales of Ludakra the Stonehand, who mastered the art of Vojûn with that of sculpture; In more contemporary history there is Jonkei the Swordsman, who was recognized by the Council of Amikiras as a master martial arts under the new Unain dynasty. He is a friend of the new Atûsbal Unain Thin’tak Sekoras. In those cases, becoming a recognized master is the gateway to everlasting glory and admiration. Speaking practically, it also opens the way for political power, material wealth, and the chance to attract an apprentice of one's own. With each generation, the Etayen technocracy grows in strength and number, bringing with it chances for national revival.   While the technocracy is dominant in Etal, the systems of dynasticism that endure across the rest of Qadal flourish among the Voletal. Outside the safety of the homeland, the gifts of life and prosperity are not granted luxuries like they are within. The Voletal that settled Étunas beyond the bounds of the Vishtal and Council of Amikiras had to find their own means to establish themselves within foreign lands. The reliance on masters and apprentices, as well as guilds that feature in the technocracy were not sufficient institutions to bolster the expanding realm. The Etayen had to implant themselves in the land if they wished to keep it, and in that regard, they learned from those they conquered: Claims of blood to the land were more enduring than any recognition of skills or mastery. They had to live on the land, generation after generation, if they wished to keep it.

Atûn chose his favorites among his favored children. Among the thousand dynasties that were born in Etal following the First Feud, the Vishtal have always been closest to their creator. The history of this connection goes back to the earliest epochs of the Awakening, for it is said that Atûn created the Vishtal before all other families. They were the thus fairest of the Etûletal and closest to the image of the master himself. In those ancient days, the Vishtal were chosen to be the wardens of Atûn in Etal, maintaining order and honoring the name of their creator. The first created became the first in rank, a preference for the eldest born that was adopted by other olûndari races as their means of succession. The Vishtal became the first kings and queens in the history of Qadal, occupying a position within a middle ground- part holy guide, part sovereign. In the capacity of the former, the Vishtal ensured that heresy and dissent did not grow among the Etûletal. This was important, for Atûn could not be the deity and hierarchy of his own religion, there needed to be a olûndari hierarchy to bind together the divine and mundane. In the capacity of the latter, the Vishtal protected the works of Atûn and barred the Etûletal from departing Etal. Those who were captured were imprisoned, for those who had strayed too far were killed. In those ways the Vishtal upheld their expected duties to their creator, paving the way for his future machinations.   Despite the vigorous pursuit of their noble charge, the conservatism of the Vishtal proved the undoing of Étunas. Where dynamic and active rule was required, the Vishtal withdrew and bid the Etayen steel themselves until Atûn’s expected return.   Profound lethargy grasped the Vishtal so vigorously that centuries after Atûn’s death, where every wiseperson in Qadal knew no return as coming, the dynasty was incapable of mustering new responses. Lingering in anguish became their standard fare.

Étunas was never the same after Atûn's death. It's pride was destroyed and its prospects for the future annihilated. The Vishtal dynasty continued to rule according to Atûn's whim, but their authority was undermined. Moreover, as the Etayen race endured new challenges from upstart neighbors the catatonic silence of the Vishtal was untenable. New political actors to rose occupy this apparent vacuum. Foremost among them was Nemkisaur Tarkiyet, whose ancestors had enriched themselves as conquerors during the glory years of Étunas. A political dynasty formed and endured for centuries, gradually ticking up the ladder of powers surrounding the Vishtal rulers. In time, Nemkisaur became a close companion of Atûsbal Vishtal Nil’phir, who reigned over Étunas during the 2300s.   Under the rule of Tarkiyet, the composition of the Etayen governing body was altered. The lesser, career politicians of the various dynasties in Amikiras were granted positions of leadership, whereas the technocrats loyal to the Vishtal were ousted.   The Tarkiyet dynasty retained their grip over power for centuries, etching their indelible mark upon Étunas. In time, however, the same methods which once ensured their strength became the source of the dynasty's destruction. The lesser dynasties which were uplifted in lieu of the ancient technocrats were now matured and sought the same authority enjoyed by the Tarkiyet. Among them, the Unain were the most significant. Under their master, Riterisaur, the small landed family befriended Tarkiyet Nivetarket, de facto master of Étunas, and rooted themselves within powerful circles.

Milennia of shame and decline followed the death of Atûn and the collapse of Étunas in the year zero. The Etayen lost their position of dominance in Qadal and were forced to watch as their old domains collapsed under pressure from lesSer olûndari races. The successor kingdom of Othos, Zoridas, was the first to fall. A coalition of man from Eurobia gathered together in the 200s and invaded the region. They usurped the Voletal rulers and reopened the area to Aemar settlement. The only olûndi of Etayen descent that did not flee, or die were the Thûnetal, or mixed blood Etayen. They integrated themselves into the sparse villages and townships that filled the ruins of Zoridas in the 300s and 400s. Next fell the Voletal realm of Amasghal, which was annexed in 1532 by the Axodraharik. Their growing theocracy of the Axokari saw no place for the Etayen in Nevan, and ruthlessly drove them out. Finally, the Voletal realms of Everos, the most prominent of the Etayen colonies during the Ascension, fell in the Great Conflict of 2304. The war, started by Bal’gorod of Sutan, pulled in numerous great powers in Qadal. It resulted in the detention of a stone said to bear the seed of Atûn, destroying all of eastern Everos. The region, known as Nathrovas, had been home to the Voletal of Everos, and its destruction ruined all hopes for a stable Voletal realm in Qadal. Sutan’s rival, Jequa, fell shortly afterward to the Grathon tribes, who make Drakar the capital of their new kingdom. These defeats were the legacy of Atûn’s death, and the weak leaders that followed.   The Vishtal sovereigns of Etal, though chosen by Atûn during the Awakening, failed to maintain his people after his death. Atûsbal Taeyoril, who reigned at the time of Corgastor’s victory, was utterly shattered by the unexpected death of Atûn. He recalled his people from across Qadal to return to Etal, where they were to await the expected return of Atûn. The revival never arrived. Months became years, years became decades, and decades became centuries as the Etayen mourned the death of their deity. All the while, the realm they had built during the Ascension crumbled. The realms beyond the Semyr became independent and survived for varying amounts of time before falling to external forces. The time between the fall of Étunas and the fall of its successor kingdoms can be numbered in centuries, but none of them survive to modern times.

The Etayen are not opposed to slavery. They practice it often and have since the ancient days of first colonization into Qadal. It is a simple means to bolster productivity through a means which does not offend the traditional value of life which the Etayen place on themselves. In distant, hostile regions, the capture and constant replenishment of slaves was necessary to create civilization.   In later centuries of the Ascension era, when the domain of the Etayen was greatest in Qadal, the institution of slavery diminished in significance. This is not to say that slavery was abolished, for the Etayen elite enjoyed their local servants. Yet, it meant that their hunger for more slaves was sated. Slavery became more a political tool subdue routy enemies with threats. Resistance would mean destruction and enslavement, and it was common knowledge that the Etayen possessed the means and will to act on it.

As the oldest civilized race in Qadal, the Etayen have developed for themselves a robust intellectual and political culture which breeds such irregular groups. The first among them flourished during the paradise days isolated in Etal, whereas Ascension era interactions with the wider world caused an explosion of extra-political gatherings. The dynastic governments in Amikiras were once weary of such organization as a potential means to sow rebellion, but Atûn himself advocated their merits. Order beyond government was a means to invest all members of the population into the governing culture.

For governance in Amikiras, a special yet small section of the nobility is chosen. This means that the majority of Etayen elite are excluded from direct government with limited access to their Eshanic master. In other nations, this might proceed a general uprising of the nobility against the government, spelling disaster for all. However, the presence of Atûn precludes any significant opposition. Among the lesser nobility then, a special organization was formed known as the Segetusbal, or Second Ring. The intention of this organization is to mirror the government in Amikiras- this entails considering the same issues, creating mock laws, issuing mock orders, and otherwise following the political game. When certain matters arise in real government which gain the attention of the Segetusbal, members will often dispatch petitions and suggestions of Amikiras. These carry no authority but are often well considered by the reigning dynasty.   The role of the Segestusbal was not been mere shadowing, however. Each of the dynasties which reigned after the Vishtal, being Tarkiyet and Unain foremost, have been members of this organization.

During the years of colonization, it became a major concern for the incoming Etayen that their new subjects should be versed in civilized ways. For that reason, a significant number of noble dynasties gathered to organize indoctrination services. They rallied behind Tenyaten Ekitira, who was most vocal in her concern that ignorance would undermine the efficiency of Etayen rule.

In the years prior to the Ascension, the Etûletal developed for themselves a robust legal framework which determined punishments and rehabilitation for its people.   The most unique and enduring practice of the old Etayen system was Entarik, or the Guiding Way. The premise is that crimes and deviant behavior are products of faulty education or poor circumstance rather than one’s inherent, darker traits. Those who commit “lesser” crimes, defined as affronts short of murder, intentional blasphemy, and familial sabotage, are subject to a process of rehabilitation. A criminal is paired with a wisened figure, male or female, who volunteers to assess the former’s mental ailments and personal past. In an ideal scenario, the mentor will unravel the mystery of the criminal’s motivations and temperament. A common thief might be more than a pick-pocket but inspired by ultruistic concerns such as the well-being of their family.   For those who committed more heinous crimes or rejected rehabilitation, the punishment was exile to the frontiers. It was to last for a single year. What this entailed was a brief period wherein the accused prepared themselves for departure from their friends and familial connections. They could take small trinkets with them, but nothing of substantial monetary or military value. Everything else, which was little, was bestowed upon them as they departed. The destinations were often inhospital border settlements which were under constant threat from local incursions of depletion of supplies. While one might assume that displeased new arrivals might desert from the settlements, consider the environment. In what direction might an Etayen flee beyond their homeland? The Aemar harbor no love and other races receive outsiders with lukewarm tolerance at best. Neither is ideal. Buckling down and working within the context of exile is generally the wisest option. The result is that Etayen exiles perform well under those high pressure circumstances, growing as an individual more often than faltering.   The outcomes of the rehabilitation or exile system were remarkably successful. Their benign, or at least non-fatal conditions prompted reflection within the cerebral Etayen. Death was simple and final. Yet, if life was to continue instead, would it be better to resist and ruin it or simply comply and reform? The length of life itself became a prison which isolation rather than death harmed more severely.   Entarik began to falter as the Etayen Ascension brought new, strange olûndi into the fold and separated the Etûletal from their Voletal compatriots across the seas. No adequate number of volunteer mentors could guide the great numbers of criminal who were spawned in the chaos of inter-racial and inter-racial conflict and coexistence. Matters were particularly grevious on the outer-most fringes of the Etayen world, such as Nevan and Othos, where Etayen government could not discover nor prosecute offenders.

For all olundi pursue personal betterment over honor in their darkest times, crime exists among the Etayen just as any other. Lowly members of society plunder unwatched businesses, murder their rivals, and plague the roads for loot. Yet, the great self-superior image the Etayen generally possess of themselves means that punishments for such major crimes are much harsher than elsewhere in Qadal. Few noteable criminals escape long in Etal, for the agents of Amikiras and other regions track them down as animals within mere weeks. Indeed, it is equivalent to suicide to undertake crime without a ready method of escape from Etal. Those who survive remain abroad.   Crime does not just remain among individuals, however. Given the intense nature of dynasty, personal reputation, and legacy, it is common among the upper classes than if one shall fall to crime, all the dynasty shall with them. This is a dreadful menace to the government in Amikiras, for a single powerful dynasty might possess the resource to hire mercenaries, charter ships, hire bureaucrats to manipulate records, and otherwise create a whole criminal enterprise from nothing. When corruption of such scale arises, the whole country is endangered by it.

What fool might resist warriors trained for numerous lesser lifetimes? How may an empire wish to compete with a race whose homeland is unassailable? Difficult questions, yet disparingly real for the olûndi of Qadal beyond the tractless jungle shores of Etal. Centuries of warfare throughout the Ascension and following eras honed the warriors of Atûn into cunning masters of combat and military affairs.   The Etayen military doesn’t operate along traditional strategems of battalions and officers. Those stiff and bureaucratic measures are the realm of the Aemar, who have an uncanny talent for decimating the art hidden within every task. Upon the land of Atûn, the relationship between master and apprentices is the most outstanding military unit.   Innumerable Etayen masters of martial arts have lived to serve Atûn’s domain. Their philosophies on warfare and combat have endured the ages, some more intact than others.

For vast eons the Etayen were separated from all Qadal by ocean, forbidden to cross such expanses under fear of destruction. Boats were unknown to them for any purpose, whether fishing or transportation, as such protent fears dissuaded all but the bravest. Meanwhile, other civilizations such as the Doarhu and Aemarda plied the seas unopposed. They developed maritime traditions for themselves and technologies made novel to the otherwise enlightened Etayen. This was compelled to change around -1500. Atûn then determined that the timing was proper for the Etayen race to range forth into Qadal and colonize it for themselves. Boats were required for this endeavor, and thus Atûn offered simple guidance to spur the ingenuity of his people, who were swift to interest themselves in this new watery domain.   Those who settled Seymenasi after Afranast found considerable difficulty in suppressing the local Aemardic population.

Warriors of the Etayen race long perfected their art in silent isolation in Etal. Masters passed their wisdom to lessers, and those lessers became masters in time. Techniques and stratagems were tested against interloping strangers from Voryndal down in Korussusdal, and later against the whole world which they sought to colonize. Among a great series of differing schools, two among them rose to foremost prominence

The principle behind Ikural is constant pressure, enough to unbalance and swiftly maim the opponent. This is achieved by maintaining unbroken contact with the enemy blade throughout all maneuvers, only deviating to land a strike or thrust. When he retreats, follow; when he advances, gradually withdraw. One must maintain the optimal distance between fighters at all times, preventing the enemy from striking while threatening a blow at all times. In the best of circumstances, the Ikurayen warrior will maneuver as to throw off the enemy and break his morale, then land a decisive blow through his guard.

In complete opposition to Ikural is Nikarnir, which is a tradition born later than its peer. The fundamental concept is something one might call optimal disengagement, wherein the fighter remains close enough to strike at length, but never close enough to be readily struck.

After the death of Atûn and unleashing of Vojûnic power in the world at large, the potency of Etayen warriors was significantly diminished. Their foremost advantage was not only gone, but now in the hands of their former enemies. Drastic measures were necessary to maintain Etunas in a post-Atûn world. Atûsbal Vishtal Kinekortos, second generation successor of Taeyoril, pondered deeply into the matter. He considered the counsel of manner learned thinkers in Etal, but their suggestions relied upon coordination with local Aemardic or Doarhu warlords. Kinekortos desired to maintain the potency of Etayen dominance and rejected being beholden to his subjects.   Around the year 70, news reached him in Amikiras regarding strange manifestations of Vojûn which gained life without Eshara, but through its own concentration. Local Ghalûn in Everos, many of whom now distanced themselves from Etal, called these beasts Nemogorotir, or “those born from nothing” in their tongue. These monsters were powerful and sentient, capable of thinking for themselves and forming crude societies among themselves. The Atûsbal was intrigued, and thus dispatched scouts to those dangerous regions to discern further wisdom. Weeks passed, but these scouts returned from Everos. They spoke gravely of the terrors which they witnessed there, for the Aemar rulers and Voletal Ghalûn were in bitter conflict with one another and equally hard beset by these Nemgorotir.   These Nemroghal were dispatched to the frontier regions of the Etayen world, where small garrisons clung onto disparate bases. In small formations, they spread themselves into the countryside and discovered or contrived locations where Vojûnic energy was strong; prepared, they took custionship over the Nemgorotir which were thus born confused and terrified. These infantile beasts were thus tamed and educated with an Etayen worldview and prepared in all necessary ways to effectively combat local enemies. This included the villainizing of the local peoples and engranddizement of the Etayen world. In battle, these indoctrinated monsters were nigh unstoppable, bearing talons, claws, tentacles, and other corruptions with a singular fury.   Throughout the remainder of Kinekortos’ long reign and years thereafter, the Nemroghal were centerpiece elements of the Etayen effort to reconquer Etunas.

The ranks of the Vyndayen are composed of Etayen disillusioned with olûndari existence.   A prospective warrior must contemplate the matter for a period of at least six years, so that all possible vestiges of hope might be first exploited. Once that time has elapsed, the warrior might come forth and honestly offer themselves.

During the glorious years of the Ascension, the Etayen spread across the known world, conquering new peoples and subduing strange lands. For that purpose, formations of local warriors were required as support. These might be considered mercenaries in common terms. However, the Etayen did not hire them nor attend to them in the same ways.

In our modern times, the Etayen possess a bleak and incorrect reputation for isolation and inherent disdain for other olûndi. The truth is that centuries of decline and the traumatic death of their creator-master scarred those people deeply. Where there was once a vibrant trading culture which plied the seas and built a hundred-score roads across the world now stands reclusion. Aloofness. Their tragedy is the most severe of creation, for Atûn granted them everything required for prosperity, but such things went to waste upon his own death. Millenia of guidance and planning culminated in nothing!   During the reign of Etunas, the colonizing Etayen masters levied heavy taxes upon foreign races. The Aemar were most burdened, but the Odyrzid were not beyond escape, nor were the small communities of Daorhu which were encountered.

The designs of the Etayen are unique among olûndi, for they were inspired through the direct involvement of their Eshanic master. Compact, taller structures, often with narrow terrances upon different levels are common design elements for the Etayen. In the most extreme traditionalist constructions, each room is its own tower structure, pushed side-by-side to neighboring rooms and connected by small decorative courtyards. The interiors are tighter, perhaps perceived as more claustrophobic by visitors, with broad hearths lighting rooms adorned with numerous decorative pillars.   Structures erected in Etal by Etûletal designers differed from the structures erected by Voletal designers influenced by foreign techniques.

Etayen society focuses foremost on the individual, their talents, and their personal development over long years of labor. They do not value intricate familial ties or outstanding wealth. The former is granted without merit and the latter reflects little about the individual’s quality.   The Etayen are obsessed with technical and intellectual mastery and the fruits they yield. The most important relationships between individuals are those between master and apprectice; the teacher and the student; the parent and the child. In each case, one imparts knowledge upon the other.   In the intensely technocratic Etayen world, the most highly revered individuals in society are the Zoyetayen. Their name derives from the Etayen term for ‘crowned spirit’, which implies a retirement of the reasoning mind. They rank above the common masters of crafts and art. Indeed, the extensive lifespan of the Etayen allows for the near guaranteed mastery of one skill. While impressive in comparison to other olûndi, such common feats are not outstanding in their society. The Zoyetayen are different in that they are capable of achieving a spiritual state known as Zossiveka. In Zossiveka, one releases their attention to reason and concerted thought in exchange for raw instinct. All distractions are lost. What remains is the engrained mastery of a craft, whether painting or pottery, or a skill such as archery, which is inseparable from the individual. The Etayen believe that true perfection comes in this expression of cumulative experience.

Matters of class divisions within Etayen society are rather banal and tame in comparison to the vicious dynastic struggles of Eshanic realms.   The worst violation of that foundation came in the 3400s, when the Unain dynasty rose against the ancient Vishtal and ousted them from power.

When the world was still young, the ancient domain of Etal was separated from Qadal. Atûn the Youngest created vast waves of churning froth to deter foreigners from exploring its shores and stymie pre-mature attempts to venture outward from within. The Etayen were innocent then, but curious of the violent ocean and what lay beyond it. Primitive thinkers inquired the subject with their creator, but the answers were entirely cryptic and unsatisfying. Atûn simply explained that the ocean marked the end of their world. Did that mean the known world alone? What of other, foreign lands? Early attempts by bold Etayan to brave the ocean were met with disaster. No vessels yet created could survive. The sturdiest crafts built in the south survived mere miles beforing being rent apart upon the surf and lost forever. This did not halt those brave esseythu from attempting the futile. For every Etayen corpse left to drift, another planned a greater, riskier trip with keen knowledge of the past. Before the second millennium of the Awakening, the wisest and brightest of the Etayen sailed father afield, and some even returned to tell the story. Atûn became worried that his continent and people might be prematurely discovered through their own invention, and thus he created another obstacle. In the dense morass of gnarled jungle, the Youngest stationed Eshanic beasts called Ethûl as ocean guards. Now, the Etayen that ventured too close to the ocean were harried back inland or swiftly slain and lost.   In this context, fanciful imagination wandered across the sea to unseen lands. Gen’phelak, who lived during the early Classical Era, was among the first to envision the realms beyond Etal. He crafted a universe populated by hideous monsters, vengeful deities, horrible rites, and incredible tribulations.   Beyond the lifetime of Gen’phelak, the Etayen explored the furthest extents of their mother continent. The south was a great expanse unlike the jungles and verdant tall-grasses upon which their cities were built. Pearl rivers ceased to flow in those distances, but the land became harsh and riddled with craglands and arid plains like those found in western Everos. This was the frontier before Atûn revealed the whole of Qadal for his people. It was known as Karossusdal, or the Great Southern Land, and became the subject of Etayen epics and the latest addition to the litrary universe which was the Keyutal collection.   For centuries, the creative expression of Keyutal continued to gain traction among the Etayen. This fiction became the obsession and touchstone of their own society, its heroes, its fears, and its values. Yet, Atûn brought forth great revelations in the year -1500s, breaking extended epochs of silence regarding Etal and its place in creation. A world existed beyond Etal’s shores. It was populated by olûndi like themselves crafted by entities like himself. It could be reached in mere weeks by ship. Most importantly, it was theirs for the taking as the greatest race in Qadal. The collective mythos of the Etayen universe was radically challenged, but the literary elements did not die. It, too, must be noted that I as author took inspiration from Gen’phelak’s formats and works in creating this Zolrassal, for it was the closest piece of fantasy which reached the scale of my own ambitions.

The most common iterations of Etayen music are played with harps and a series of small, hollow sounding drums. When played together, the effect is a haunting, robust sound which reverberates through a space with enchanting power.

The Etayen were first among the enlightened races of Qadal, for their Eshanic master reigned among in open wisdom. As such, the vehicles of their knowledge were not hindered by the weight of local superstitions or erroneous doctrines. They spoke immediately about the power and implications of Eshanic history, Eshara’s power, patterns of Eshor, and other subjects. This was done through a naturally contrived system of great thinkers and their students, known as Kayoletal. A renowned thinker, often possessing centuries of knowledge, would announce themselves as accepting new students, and thus rely on their reputation to draw interest. As the word spread, prospective students rushed to be first in application. Borne with them were gifts of wealth and sumptuous food, for one stipulation of these lessons were that the students themselves would support the common needs of the master. In this way, the master might dedicate whole-hearted to education. The master then took great care in selecting whom among the new arrivals might be worthy. Tests of rhetoric, logic, mathematics, and Eshanic theory were commonplace in such deciding. The master could determine any number were worthy, none were worthy, what prices he or she might extract, and whatever else. No official or outside institutions watched over their business. After all, who might be so wise as to judge the actions of the greatest thinkers?   Once such arrangements of students and master were settled, the master chose a location of teaching. It was in vogue for wealthy Etayen nobility to sponsor such educational endeavors, even if they never interacted with the gathering. Consider it an insular community, wherein students and teacher endeavored to support the community created for themselves with work, sleep, lessons, and entertainment mixed together. When the master of the Kayoletal was near death, it was possible for him or her to select a successor among the students. If not, the community was disbanded. Contrary to what most olundi might think, being blinded by the desire for vain continuity, it was more common for communities to be disbanded than passed down to another. This is because the master’s reputation, which is chief concern for the Etayen, would be entrusted to said other.   As the number of Kayoletal communities increased throughout Etal, their lessons and legacies clashed. Different masters and students developed intellectual rivalries which defined the academic environment on the southernmost continent. Indeed, the most famous instance was the rivalry between Abtosaur of Eyetmikris and Pekoras Naketesaur. Their origins are irrelevant here, but their differing schools debated a matter which captured the interest of Atûn himself- being the physical manifestations of Eshara in Esha. Namely, whether Eshara could be deployed within Esha given its ephemeral properties. Abtosaur believed that Eshara’s power was strictly bound by artificial and natural laws to be granted to olundi directly, never beyond. Indeed, it was never observed that Eshara endured long in Esha, regardless of cirumstances, save for in Esheryne which was rare. Yet, even in those cases Eshara only lasted a short measure longer before dissipating to the universe of which it was component part. Naketesaur and his students argued that the limitations of Eshara were symptoms of Eshanic ignorance. Indeed, the Eshan themselves were unfamiliar with the outward limits of their own power, as was made manifest from the First Feud onward. It must be possible that Eshara be made common in Esha proper, if only the Eshan contrived the methods. The problem was retention, and such the Eshan should pursue new means to improve the endurance of Eshara, which might then be called upon. Back and forth the two thinkers argued, drawing forth great crowds during their public debates. Atûn took interest in the optimism of Naketesaur, and pondered on such possibilities until the creation of Vojûn which answered those questions.   As the Aemardic races of Qadal advanced their methods of eduction, such as the creation of specialized schools in Everos and Othos, the Etayen rejected them. It became common belief among Atûn’s people that such open institutions opened themselves to lay-abouts, dullards, drunks, haughty tempers, and other undesirable students.

The Etayen possess direct familial lineages in addition to their common dynasties.   A single “couple” can survive generations with the continual remarriage of one spouse after the death of the other. For example, a male and female might bind themselves together around the age 30 and dwell in harmony for 200 years. The male dies around the age 230, respectable for the race, leaving the female alone in sorrow. Now she rebinds with another male, and they live together for 40 years until her eventual death as the age of 270. The male rebinds and enjoys a prosperous relationship for 100 years until his own death, then his spouse rebinds, and thus onward.   The longest Etayen binding known to the race survived from -2800 to 15, spanning the late Awakening, entire Ascension, and into the early Weeping Era. It’s progenitor, a rather low individual known as Vitekros, was born to unrecorded parents in unremarkable conditions. His name first appears around the late -2700s as one who attempted to escape Etal by ship. He was captured but was spared by the Ethûl with with promise to never attempt the feat again. However, this knowledge was not recorded by his own hand, but by another author named Ikrenis Pes’kolos. She was a devotee of Gen’phelak’s fantastical form and took interest in the concept of Etayen defying Atûn for the sake of adventure. The lineage of Vitekros continued between husbands and wives throughout the following epochs, still in relative obscurity. Opportunity came with the Etayen ascension of -1500, when the race flooded across the known world intent on colonization.   Vitek Serokil and Ris’thine died in the ruined domain of southern Everos, despondant beyond recovery upon the death of their Eshanic master.   The termination of an extended couple’s lineage is received with profound sadness, especially for those who endured for numerous genertaions. As proof, the extinction of Vitekros’ line in the aftermath of Étunas’ collapse was recognized with sorrow as far as Amikiras. Atûsbal Taeyoril offered his personal condolences to the family, along with etched stones in their honor.

The proud Etayen race does not recognize nor steadfastly enslave itself to restrictions between the genders.

Time and the inevitable approach of death burden the Etayen in a profound manner set apart from the other races of Qadal. They do live longer lives, around 300 to 400 years per the Eshanic power imbued unto them by Atûn, but this is both blessing and curse. The immense centuries separating birth and death for Etayen makes encounters with death a rarity. This is paired with the homogeneity and peace that reigns in their homeland which makes violent death even more irregular. Etayen unfamiliarity with death makes its arrival a matter of extraordinary fear and apprehension. On the other extreme, the Aemar are accustomed to the passage of friends and loved ones and accept death as a normal aspect of life.   In preparation for prolonged aging and death, Etayen among all social strata make practice of recording personal histories known as Eturavis, or Etayen Stories. This is no mundane undertaking, however. Scholars and nobility perceive the practice with the utmost gravity. These specially tailored histories often become megalithic volumes thousands of pages in length. For those on the lesser ends of society, mere hundreds. The importance of these documents is couched in a racial peculiarity which plagues the Etayen. It is known as Nekri and has been referenced with interest elsewhere in these pages. The premise is that over time, the olûndari mind naturally deteriorates and overflows with information- lore, trades, martial skills, personal relationships, and whatever is accrued over 400 years. An Etayen elder might therefore forget everything about their birth and youthful years in favor of recent information. Where were they born? Uncertain. Who were their young friends? Hopefully its written down. What wisdom and talents have been developed over the centuries? Unless maintained faithfully over time, the victim forgets. This is a despised ailment in life but feared in relation with death. Without the volumous Eturavis, the centuries of knowledge gathered by an individual might be completely lost in writing, then forgotten by those who live.

The most common means of handling the dead within Etayen society is burial. Whilst the uneducated surveyor of southern civilization might expect some gaudy ritual of fire and cairns, nothing of the sort is dictated in that society. It is common knowledge that Atûn beyond the Etayen to the world and its Vojûnic power, thus barring them from uniting with Vussalas. Therefore, the most fitting means of honoring that Eshanic mandate is connecting the corpse and the final resting place of the spirit.   The common manifestation of this burial rite is in the form of strange ‘pyramids’ wrought from stone. The Etayen call them Rasiyet, or Eternal Thrones. Corpses are placed inside in the upright position, armed crossed and downward over the torso, head and legs straight. These constructions can rise over 20 strides tall, more often narrow than broad, and in turn surrounded by lesser pyramids which represent family members. Etched across the surface are inscriptions which detail the departed’s life in feverishly detailed accounts. Birth, achievements, travels, title, and death are all meticulously recorded upon stone for the passing viewer. This is an extension of the Etayen death scripts which possess such notoriety. Every span is covered with this script save for regions reserved for decorative marbling or gold leaf. Among the wealthy masters of Etayen society, Viiryne is inlaid into the decorative design and buried within the stone superstructure. This has the real benefit of dissipating Vojûnic energy around the grave, present for whatever malignant purpose, and the superstitious belief that Viiryne brings Etayen closer to Atûn’s life energy.   Etayen burial grounds differ from their Aemar counterparts in that location is a secondary concern. Great tracts of land are not set aside for the purpose, nor are communal bone-houses built for the dead. Etayen Rasiyet are situated wherever the deceased or their kin desire. In some circumstances, this is within a familial estate, granted its own chamber and all due ornamentation. The particularly erudite prefer their remains to rest within their personal libraries, around which is accrued the sum total of their worldly knowledge. Others are located within city centers for all to witness. Beyond civilization, there is a broad popularity in situating the Rasiyet out in the distant countrysides and jungles beneath Vussalas.

What the Etayen know as Vitir, being their ancestral language, offers a strange and confusing narrative. Its primary elements were created by Atûn, who himself borrowed favorite aspects of the enigmatic Eshanic tongue in which all creators were fluent. He passed it among the Etayen people, and they attended to any linguistic gaps with their own additions- especially regarding nouns, adjectives, and verbs. This created a dizzying array of different dialects which were fiendishly similar in structure, but completely unalike in their more detailed elements.   The first permanent records of Vitir are found in writing rather than the traditional oral histories. It implies a somewhat reversed evolution wherein the written language was devised before the spoken language. As the centuries passed and Etal became more centralized under the guidance of Qasladur, the myriad dialects of the Vitir language became standardized according to the written iterations. The result was an oddly formalized language which exerted itself upon the population rather than being defined by the common lexicon of the people.   Although the tongue of Etal was reserved by race, its influences on other languages are pronounced. The Etayen were the first olûndi besides the forsaken Odyrzid to received knowledge of the Eshan and Void. Atûn was their guide, and the meticulous nature of the Etayen spawned an immense body of work on the subject penned by dozens of authors. When the Ascension came, and colonization began in earnest, the Etayen carried this knowledge with them into greater Qadal.

The practice of bestowing newborns with a two-parted name dates to the most ancient years of Etayen settlement under the guidance of Atûn. It was a means through which parents might bless the child with a name befitting their expectations, such as Ketis’nem, being ‘Strong of Mind’ or Takrit’pey, being ‘Fair as Ocean’ in their tongue.   As the centuries passed and the Etayen language evolved, however, the practice became antiquated and lost its universal appeal. Words no longer meant their original definitions and the sophistication and codification of the language diminished the mystique which a clever name provided.

The Etayen people worship the memory of the powerful and cunning Atûn. He, during the Awakening and Ascension eras, was an active and extremely proud Eshanic deity who personally guided his chosen children to greatness and empire. No other race in all the world could claim such manifested love. Atûn was wiser than kind, however, and possessed ulterior motives in espousing such direct affection. He created the Etayen as an Eshanic reservoir, binding himself to them and them to himself in essence. This was a fate chosen over returning to Vussalas, as many of his siblings had done. It was mutually beneficial; they were his people and he was their protector.   In -1500, Atûn brought to fruition the goal of their union. He created an energy called Vojûn, which was the olûndari incarnation of Eshara- the power of the Eshan themselves. The power was withdrawn from the esseythu of the Etûletal, the singular breed of the Etayen in those days, who had dwelt in Etal exclusively. Atûn forbade them from leaving Etal prior to -1500 but promised that they would become the undisputed masters of the Eshanic world. Religiously, the Etayen evolved in those latter years, and matured in their thinking regarding Atûn. Worship of his power and wisdom shifted from a cult of Eshanic presence to a humbler veneration of some vaunted celestial king.   Atûn practiced a ritual called the Binding by the Etayen, where he used his Eshara to wrench out the power from his children, whom were bound to him. By that method, he was able to take the power of their esseythu and his energy and bind them to the olûndari world. Once the ritual had been completed, Atûn told his children that they may now pass beyond the shores of Etal. An infantile world lay before them, occupied by weak beings. With Vojûn in hand, the Etayen began their era of glory.   The rise of Étunas and the beginning of the Ascension era marked the legitimate birth of dogmatic and institutionalized religion among the Etayen. For over 1,000 years, the Etayen expanded their empire all across Qadal and subjugated vast swathes of its land and people. All the while Atûn remained in Etal, maintaining the power of Vojûn to keep it among the Etayen and advising them during their expansions. In return, they revered him and paid him constant homage. Temples were built in his honor and the cities of the Etayen grew from the earth at his command and desire.   Unfortunately, the glory of his reign was not to last. During the waning years of the Ascension, when the Etûletal experienced the height of their power, the Aemar of Everos rose up in rebellion. For years the Etayen had ruled over Everos and its Aemar population, holding them in a state of near slavery. Under the leadership of Corgastor, they turned back the tide of Etayen expansion, and forced them back toward the Semyr. Tragically for Atûn, as the power of the Etayen decreased, so did his own power. The farther they fell back, the weaker he became. By the time the Etayen were fighting for their last toe holds on the continent, Atûn was frail and fading. The Etayen tried everything to maintain his life, potions, prayers, rituals, and even sacrifices, but not of it could stop his decline. As the final ships departed from Everos to Etal, Atûn was passing into oblivion. By the time they reached home, he was dead. The Etayen were racked with grief, filled with rage, and hampered by despair in their failure to save their deity. No longer would he watch from among, being a presence like an olûndari man is present. The Ascension Era was over. Aemarda was victorious for the time being, but the Etayen were filled with a new fury. They would avenge their fallen Eshanic amster, and wage wars to regain their lost lands in Everos.   This being said, the faith of Atûn did not die with him. The Etayen still worship him as their Eshanic master, thought the people awknowledge that his spirit has passed. A few forlorn esseythu appeal to the endless Void in hopes that their words will bring him back from the beyond, some believe as to give their respects to his memory and his glory, while others still worship him because he is the only deity they have ever known. The places they worship in are grand as well, woven of towering trees and gnarled vines which are laid upon great foundations of natural stone. It is the enduring nemeshir of their deity, they say, that allows them to build such magnificent structures. Here they pray. Pray for a revival, pray for renewal, and pray to save their own essence.   The spirit of Etayen vengeance and hunger for revival first manifested itself in the rise of Bal’gorod Nathrobal in Nathrovas.   The nature of divinity for the Etayen and their successors is different than the other peoples of Qadal. The nature of the observances is closer to a funeral than a celebration. The faithful mourn and shed tears over the fall of their deity who had brought them greatness.   Toward the conclusion of the Imperial era and beginning of the Wandering era, the Etayen veneration of Atûn enjoyed another significant surge in popularity.

No religion among the myriad Eshanic cults spread across the world with such vigor as the Cult of Atûn, bourne abroad by his colonizing people. It was throught his word that the Eshanic mythos was introduced to the hitherto superstitious and misguided olûndari masses in Qadal.   The religious doctrine among the people of Atûn toward foreigners is exclusive in nature. While the Etayen themselves are companions and children to Atûn, those who later adopted his worship are perceived as subject to a higher lord. Deference, rather than kinship, is the norm.   While the Volekayen were perceived as inferior brethren in faith to the Etayen, there was a particular value to them which made conversion important to Atûn’s success. It was power. According to the agreement between Atûn and Acolitus in -1500, the essence of the deceased Etayen were permanently relegated to Vojûnic energy, essentially being pumped into an unceasing current which pulsed beneath Esha. This meant that Atûn himself would never grow in strength beyond the natural growth which all Eshan enjoyed. Compared to his siblings, this was inconsequential. Gathering both Etayen and foreign devotees, therefore, allowed the extraordinary growth of Vojûnic power which fueled the expansion of Etunas and the personal reserves of Atûn. Whenever there was a profound need for assistance, during critical battles in distant lands or the healing of significant individuals, the Youngest Alor’eshan could offer additional power to his children.   The power reserves afforded by the Volekayen empowered Atûn during the final months of the Velgasid Etag. Indeed, it was a final resort. Vojûnic power was insufficient to repel the advances of Corgastor and his allies southward through Jequasghal, for the Nathrovayen could strike blow for blow against the Etûletal. Matters became desparate, and the Volekayen were expected to sacrifice themselves to grand continued power. Thousands died in this way. Yet, this was not enough and the Eshanic energy of Atûn was exhausted far quicker than it could be replenished by zealous Aemar devotees.   After the demise of Etunas, the legacy of the Volekayen, who were prominent in numbering and vocal faith, was diminished. The Aebastadmar or Ehrovelgisûn Ghetûn of Everos desired to identify with masters of their own creation and choosing, while the peoples of Othos and Neyas returned to their ancient faiths.

Whilst Atûn maintained a close guardianship over the Etayen throughout the Awakening and Ascension eras, knowledge of the other Eshan did seep among his people and illuminate their interests in the other-worldly and perfect.   At the heart of Etayen interest in Eshanic matters is the pursuit of the perfect, or that which has been mastered beyond the possibility of blemish or weakness. The dilemma, however, is that the Eshan themselves are imperfect entities crafted from a primordial mistake. It is such that the Etayen scour the ranks of the Eshan seeking that potential perfection which proves elusive. The Voletal beyond the grasp of Etal were most curious in that endeavor. From this search they encountered Ácolitus, creator of all existence and the unbidden father of Atûn and his siblings. A cult following in his image grew among the Ascension-era Voletal while their more faithful Etûletal brothers and sisters proselytized the name of Atûn to a candid and naïve world. The existence of this growing veneration of Ácolitus was sharply contested by the Vishtal Atûsbalas and swiftly judged as illegal. By -1200, no wise Etayen spoke the name of Ácolitus lest they suffer the wrath of their masters. As a tree hewn from its roots, the recalcitrant sect died, leaving behind zealous stranglers who offered their spirits unto Ácolitus in exchange for secrets toward personal perfection and vocational mastery.