The Bridling of the Fossian
The Fossian River cleaves the northern two thirds of Banteave, separating the Highlands from the Heartlands. Though the Camembi River far to the south is wider and more renowned, it is also gentler and smoother. More dwellings, from humble shacks to modest baronies, have staked their claim in the cool temperate shade of the Camembi.
By contrast, the Fossian is wild and mighty, ripping and tearing his way down, down from the Ostambrian mountain rage with a fury that is rarely slowed till he reaches the ocean. Settlements attempted to tame, cross, or even navigate the Fossian, but none lasted long. Within a half decade, winter storms and spring flooding inevitably would swell the banks and wash away any human dwellings, forcing the inhabitants to start fresh. The closest the early settlers to Banteave got was Ninetaver, a rough collection of lands south of the Fossian that culminated in a stilted small estate on the southern shores of one of its more sedate spots. When Castle Ninetaver began construction in 1008 CE, it began a fifty-year dance with the Fossian, attempting to build and rebuild a low, marshy castle that was flooded and entirely abandoned for new ruins twice during the era. The closest to taming the mighty Fossian was an occasional system of impermanent ferries that launched from Ninetaver to a vague landing-house on the northern bank. Though the Highlands were connected to the rest of the continent, any regular large-scale trade over land was deemed impossible, requiring goods and materials to be shipped over the ocean many leagues to the east.
Until House Ildrafn stepped in.
When Baroness Malnvia, one of the two sitting regents of Rhythavn, announced her plans to tame the Fossian in 1062, she was quietly considered a lunatic by the Heawick rulership in the south. Strong-willed and deep-pocketed due to her wife’s wisdom in operating the Rhythavn trading empire, Malnvia spent the next two years doing what had been thought impossible: she and her subjects built a causeway that spanned the Fossian.
While others had forgotten, House Ildrafn remembered the old Antari Highlander songs of the land, respecting those that dwelled before. Malnvia realized that no attempts to dam or blockade the Fossian would ever succeed in part because of the tempestuous nature of the land, and so her plans were built around and including the worship of the river god Fossegrimen.
The Piper on the Riverbanks, the younger child of the oceanic Lameral, Fossegrimen was said to command waterways, wind, and weather through song and sorcery. The Fossian was his spine, his heart, his temper and his score, and human attempts to slow or divert the river’s flow would inevitably end in a crescendo of rage and a symphony of storms.
The Bridling of the Fossian, in the spring of 1063, is a date that lives in infamy. Malnvia’s team of trained engineer-archers launched a volley of relay cable arrows across the Fossian, never once touching or breaking its surface along the way. Slowly, the line was passed back and forth, slowly constructing what would be known as the Arclight Passage, the first permanent bridge to ever span the width of the Fossian.
Her engineering prowess was heralded, but Malnvia knew what the greater houses to the South didn’t: the Arclight Passage was as much a temple to Fossegrimen as it was a bridge for mankind. Sigils and runes underlaid the architecture, hollowed-support poles contained worshipful altars that dipped into the river without impeding it, and musical notation ran the length of the stonework, singing a wild and wondrous paean to the Piper in the river below.
Whether due to her markable construction or her dutiful piety to the Red Sisters’ progeny, Malnvia was heralded for her efforts, and in opening up the highlands, was offered the castle at Ninetaver. She again surprised Heawick by turning it down, requesting a dual barony on either side of the Fossian be established. House Ildrafn would steward the forest and valelands to the north of the river, while Ninetaver would continue to stand as a bastion to the crown on the south.
And so the barony of Ninevalon was born on the north of Fossian. A trading port to the south and an architectural design as ingenious as the bridge that preceded it, the Barony of Ninevalon became the second major holding of House Ildrafn, solidifying their status as the humble trading and travel leaders to the north. It was insisted, upon construction, to remain distinct but intertwined with Ninetaver, with a friendly compatriotism established between the two lands. Malnvia’s secondborn married a highborn of Ninetaver, with possible inheritance of the baronies off the table, but a strong interweaving would follow over the years.
Ninetaver and Ninevalon grew and flourished, and as the Arclight Passage between the two stood the test of time, became known as the “Nine Sisters” - a reference perhaps to the nine spires between the two castles that stood at either end of the Arclight. (Subtly, Ninevalon had five spires while Ninetaver only had four.) Myth and legend talked of the bridge as a wedding band, and those that still remembered Fossegremin joked that he had two or nine wives, depending on the teller of the story.
But House Ildrafn knew the truth. If the Arclight was a marriage, then it was between them and the gods of land. This era in Ildrafn’s history marked a slow expanse outwards, maintaining the careful remembrance and deference to the land, to history, and to those that lived here before. Ildrafn ruled wisely but cautiously, its holdings modest but in maximally useful locations, never growing beyond the bonds it had willingly placed upon itself.
Yet perhaps the true marriage was between Ildrafn and the fledgling members of minor nobility in Ninetaver to the south. And perhaps this was the secret goal of Malnvia, in the end. Supported in their trading efforts by the innocent Ildrafn, and endowed by the backing of the crown, the early members of what would one day become House Oake began to grow strong in the fatted lands of Ninetaver… and their eyes were pointed firmly southward towards the fat underbelly of House Heawick.
As were their spears.
By contrast, the Fossian is wild and mighty, ripping and tearing his way down, down from the Ostambrian mountain rage with a fury that is rarely slowed till he reaches the ocean. Settlements attempted to tame, cross, or even navigate the Fossian, but none lasted long. Within a half decade, winter storms and spring flooding inevitably would swell the banks and wash away any human dwellings, forcing the inhabitants to start fresh. The closest the early settlers to Banteave got was Ninetaver, a rough collection of lands south of the Fossian that culminated in a stilted small estate on the southern shores of one of its more sedate spots. When Castle Ninetaver began construction in 1008 CE, it began a fifty-year dance with the Fossian, attempting to build and rebuild a low, marshy castle that was flooded and entirely abandoned for new ruins twice during the era. The closest to taming the mighty Fossian was an occasional system of impermanent ferries that launched from Ninetaver to a vague landing-house on the northern bank. Though the Highlands were connected to the rest of the continent, any regular large-scale trade over land was deemed impossible, requiring goods and materials to be shipped over the ocean many leagues to the east.
Until House Ildrafn stepped in.
When Baroness Malnvia, one of the two sitting regents of Rhythavn, announced her plans to tame the Fossian in 1062, she was quietly considered a lunatic by the Heawick rulership in the south. Strong-willed and deep-pocketed due to her wife’s wisdom in operating the Rhythavn trading empire, Malnvia spent the next two years doing what had been thought impossible: she and her subjects built a causeway that spanned the Fossian.
While others had forgotten, House Ildrafn remembered the old Antari Highlander songs of the land, respecting those that dwelled before. Malnvia realized that no attempts to dam or blockade the Fossian would ever succeed in part because of the tempestuous nature of the land, and so her plans were built around and including the worship of the river god Fossegrimen.
The Piper on the Riverbanks, the younger child of the oceanic Lameral, Fossegrimen was said to command waterways, wind, and weather through song and sorcery. The Fossian was his spine, his heart, his temper and his score, and human attempts to slow or divert the river’s flow would inevitably end in a crescendo of rage and a symphony of storms.
The Bridling of the Fossian, in the spring of 1063, is a date that lives in infamy. Malnvia’s team of trained engineer-archers launched a volley of relay cable arrows across the Fossian, never once touching or breaking its surface along the way. Slowly, the line was passed back and forth, slowly constructing what would be known as the Arclight Passage, the first permanent bridge to ever span the width of the Fossian.
Her engineering prowess was heralded, but Malnvia knew what the greater houses to the South didn’t: the Arclight Passage was as much a temple to Fossegrimen as it was a bridge for mankind. Sigils and runes underlaid the architecture, hollowed-support poles contained worshipful altars that dipped into the river without impeding it, and musical notation ran the length of the stonework, singing a wild and wondrous paean to the Piper in the river below.
Whether due to her markable construction or her dutiful piety to the Red Sisters’ progeny, Malnvia was heralded for her efforts, and in opening up the highlands, was offered the castle at Ninetaver. She again surprised Heawick by turning it down, requesting a dual barony on either side of the Fossian be established. House Ildrafn would steward the forest and valelands to the north of the river, while Ninetaver would continue to stand as a bastion to the crown on the south.
And so the barony of Ninevalon was born on the north of Fossian. A trading port to the south and an architectural design as ingenious as the bridge that preceded it, the Barony of Ninevalon became the second major holding of House Ildrafn, solidifying their status as the humble trading and travel leaders to the north. It was insisted, upon construction, to remain distinct but intertwined with Ninetaver, with a friendly compatriotism established between the two lands. Malnvia’s secondborn married a highborn of Ninetaver, with possible inheritance of the baronies off the table, but a strong interweaving would follow over the years.
Ninetaver and Ninevalon grew and flourished, and as the Arclight Passage between the two stood the test of time, became known as the “Nine Sisters” - a reference perhaps to the nine spires between the two castles that stood at either end of the Arclight. (Subtly, Ninevalon had five spires while Ninetaver only had four.) Myth and legend talked of the bridge as a wedding band, and those that still remembered Fossegremin joked that he had two or nine wives, depending on the teller of the story.
But House Ildrafn knew the truth. If the Arclight was a marriage, then it was between them and the gods of land. This era in Ildrafn’s history marked a slow expanse outwards, maintaining the careful remembrance and deference to the land, to history, and to those that lived here before. Ildrafn ruled wisely but cautiously, its holdings modest but in maximally useful locations, never growing beyond the bonds it had willingly placed upon itself.
Yet perhaps the true marriage was between Ildrafn and the fledgling members of minor nobility in Ninetaver to the south. And perhaps this was the secret goal of Malnvia, in the end. Supported in their trading efforts by the innocent Ildrafn, and endowed by the backing of the crown, the early members of what would one day become House Oake began to grow strong in the fatted lands of Ninetaver… and their eyes were pointed firmly southward towards the fat underbelly of House Heawick.
As were their spears.
Written by David J.
