Nörn

It is said that every man will travel to Nörn if he is successful in life. It is a center of prosperity, a rare gem of beauty, wealth, and prestige in an otherwise inhospitable land. Its success is in no small part due to its role as administrative capital of Ultor. After the creation of the Pact of Nörn, the prestige of the kingdom skyrocketed, and wealth began to flow in along with tourists, adventurers, and enclave applicants.   The influx of wealth has turned Kürka from a backwater into one of the most prosperous paradises in Ultor. The change was astonishing when it first happened, I can barely remember visiting Kürka before that whole business at Krakis Gorge...I think I most remember the reek of animal manure in the streets. Now, though the native humans are now matched in number by foreigners and non-humans of all backgrounds. It is simply one of the most diverse places that I have ever had the pleasure of visiting.   Outside of its glamorous main cities, Nörn actually has quite a miserable clime. A more bitter and cutting cold I have never felt in my life. The majority of the native Nurnen still live in isolated villages, herding their livestock and traveling to the city to obtain whatever they cannot obtain on their own. It is a simple life, and on some days I envy them. A boon of living in such a cold land, I would guess, is that they must find no discomfort in traveling elsewhere. Their dependence upon the cities for things like fruits, vegetables, and worldly goods that they cannot craft themselves has led to a high concentration of villages clustered around cities -- becoming smaller and smaller the farther one travels from such a central hub. There are, of course, some exceptions to this rule. I distinctly remember visiting some village that I had guessed would be the smallest, most pathetic thing in the world, so far it was from a city. Much to my surprise, it was a booming metropolis when compared to many of the closer villages I had observed! What was their secret? Well, some other village down the road, between them and the city, thought of the brilliant idea of becoming a trading waystation -- a meeting point of sorts -- for those wishing to buy and sell goods from the city. This idea is beginning to truly catch on, and more and more Nurnen villages are growing ever so slowly in size as the more developed settlements begin to dabble in trading. Aspiring scholars of settlement patterns would do well to pay very close attention to the Nurnen phenomenon.   Of course, no storied nation such as Nörn is without its tragedies. I cannot believe it was scantly 50 years ago that the capital had to be moved from Valheim. For those scholars who have been living under a rock, I will briefly recount the tragedy of the Krik'tha Flood:   100 years ago, the kingdom of Nörn stretched south all the way to what is now the Un'ta Deadlands. The kingdom was still aloof after its victory over the Druidic Enclave and the establishment of the Pact of Nörn. However, the celebration was interrupted with the rise of a new threat in the east. A strange aberration appeared just to the east of the old capital at Volheim. The land began to sink, and a great cavern began to open up near the lowest point of this so-called "sinkhole." What emerged from this cavern is a breed of beasts more terrifying than any creature I have ever met in my travels. They devoured everything in their path -- bushes, trees, grass, men. The only thing left in their wake is the corpse of the land they invade. The creatures spread rapidly as they spilled forth from the cavern they called home, and were soon named the Krik'tha -- after the sounds they make when hunting. I had the misfortune of encountering these creatures when I was a young man, and I shall say that the name is fitting. When one of the bugs gets near you, it begins clicking in anticipation. Each click is followed by what sounds like a quick release of air. Breathing? I'm not sure. I'd not be surprised if these creatures need not breathe, for they seem entirely demonic to me. The Nurnen fought valiantly, but the tide was too strong. And so it was that the entire south of Nörn was lost to the Krik'tha. King Hvaldir was forced out of his own citadel, humiliated. Of course, as you know, Hvaldir chose Kürka to be the new capital, and now most of the Nurnen trade is centered there. The Krik'tha have slowed their spread, but they march outward ever so slowly, devouring all in their path.   If the suffering of the Krik'tha Flood has had one positive effect, it is that it brought the Nurnen together like they never had been before. After the Flood, seeing the outpouring of support for the refugees of the disaster was akin to witnessing a divine miracle. Even the chief rivals of the Nurnen, the dwarves of the Krakis mountain range, lent aid. I was struck by all of these events -- in awe of the magnitude of it all. What I witnessed all those years ago during the Krik'tha Flood has affected me more than almost anything else I have ever seen. I very distinctly remember being lucky enough to be in the king's chambers in Hvaldir's last moments on this plane. I can almost see it now -- Mjoln the Wall kneeling beside Hvaldir's deathbed and swearing that he would reclaim every inch of Nörn lost to the Flood... I think that in that moment, I understood somehow that I was witnessing something great and important -- and that this single moment would be the catalyst for world-shaking events. Nörn has shaken the world before, and I know it is destined to do so again.