Galastaire and the Heartland
A Dream's Broken Heart
Long ago, it is said, a king and his most favored heroes landed at the shores of the Scarlet Coast. They forded their great canoes onto the rivers of the Dream and hardly paused a moment at the sight of this new land. The elves watched these black-skinned humans delve into the richest heartlands, sending scouts, soldiers, and their many sages out to survey the land and study its peoples. They were searching for something, or perhaps someone, and that search led this army of explorers to the rich mud of the lake island that now stands as the capital. Here, the people were nearly as dark as they were, and had a heart much like their own. Soon, two peoples were one. Their king found and sat upon the long-lonely Throne of Knowledge, and the great sage Varielle whispered his long-sought answer into his ear. And the king wept.
The canoes were broken down, and from within their holds? Came great stores of sorghum, millet, palm dates, coffee, and yams. Tools of copper and steel to build homes, then walls, and finally palaces. And these palaces were festooned with the greatest portion of the king-fleet’s stores: gold, gleaming and bright, to join into guanín, the alloy of the empire. Through trade and war, the kingdom that became Galastaire arose along the island’s slopes. Through lore and their own long history, they transformed dry plains into a network of intricate irrigation. And for the wonders they brought into the Dream, they gained one in return. From the Throne? Magic flowed.
Galastaire became the center of the Dream as generations honed their lore and sorceries. From this wisdom, they made gold a simple metal. Families roved north and founded kingdoms in the Steppes to mine for rare minerals while others returned to claim the Scarlet Coast and the great Ramparts fortress. They made war with dragonkind, exchanged secrets with the dwarves, shared stories with the old halfling Families, and did all of the above with the many kin and kith of Elvenkind. And for centuries? The capital and many noble wayholdings of Galastaire flourished, elevating all who touched their borders.
Five years ago, another king held the gem of Galaistare aloft and cracked it in his fist. The Mad Mansa, Savrias Lohrian, may have written the last story of an historic dynasty. The scars left by his war, wild ambition, and explosive death remain upon the fertile soil. The great powers of the Dream resent and often reject the Empire’s gifts, instead claiming brutal war reparations. At home, many wayholdings turn inward, keeping taxes and tribute to see to their own defense, as whispers of revolt grow ever louder.
Is this an empire’s fall or its rebirth? The hard choices of a special few may decide grand Galastaire’s fate.
Themes. Civilization and conquest, diversity and aristocracy, wealth and recession, loyalty and lies
Geography
The lands surrounding the capital are quiet and idyllic, where rivers mastered by the might of an empire provide safe, stable homes for farming, ranching, and crafts. Only in recent years have hostile lairs been allowed in the interior as local militaries suffer devastating reductions by war and another bitter cut by treaty. The small force allowed to the Lohrian would have been barely sufficient in good times, leaving ample room for freelancers, monsters, and warlords to leave their marks on the wounded realm. Many a grateful village welcome a skilled mercenary, while others swear sole loyalty to local wayholders. The white marble roads of the Empire remain safe, but the introduction of heavy tolls has made safe travel a luxury that most can no longer afford. The brave or the desperate risk the rivers instead, paying a smaller fee to river-singers and the criminal halfling Families mixed in among them.
Still, the sight from atop a Galasteri hill can take one’s breath away. High meadows, criss-crossed fields of millet, sorghum, wheat, and maize. Paddies line the rivers, bordering and forming roots to great, concentric irrigation glyphs. The careful planning gives the landscape the impression of a mapped page.
Lately, however, that map has many blurs and stains from blight, conflict, and a great wound to the east.
Peoples
The heartlands of the Galasteri empire are home to many. Not just the ethnically-dominant descendants of the explorers, but several native clans and families live alongside the Lohrian and their cousin families. To outsiders, the social cues of bloodline, clan, and family can seem invisible, but by surname and features, it couldn’t be plainer to locals. As least five distinct ethnic groups consider themselves Galasteri, and that’s just among the humans. Halfling communities live alongside the great Guanín River and its tributaries. The eastern woodlands are home to kith and kin of Elvenkind. To the north and west, the dwarven clans found their lands annexed at times, or welcomed a great joining as cousins at others.
If one word could sum up the Galasteri mindset, it would be “cosmopolitan”. The Galasteri are voracious consumers of culture and eager to attain the wisdom of others. While any individual might believe any number of things, few deride the beliefs of others. If an idea works? It’s worthy of respect. Many fear the empire’s ‘openness’ as a form of cultural predation, a means of peeling the flesh off the bones of their neighbors. After the recent war, this sentiment has only grown more common, even as the empire looks ever more for new ideas, practices, and answers to sustain their future and preserve their storied legacy.
Wealth and influence have always been the primary weapons of Galastaire. Bright colors, wise words, face paints and tattoos that convey the right character for one’s image take one further than steel - or once did. Now? Waylords vie amongst each other and root out traitors to Savrias hiding in their number within the Council of Ways. This gathering of nobility, priests, sages, and masters of craft will anoint the next Mansa - the next head of the empire. The ancient queen of the Capital and former Mansa is eager to delay that choice for as long as possible, as there are no good options left for an acceptable successor.
Places and Faces
The Capital. Set upon an island that forms a single great hill rising from the Golden Lake, the gem of Galastaire still shines bright. The Palace District gleams at its peak like a crown. From those heights of breathtaking wealth, the city slopes down in a breathtaking view along seven main boulevards. The western face boasts the Sunset Bazaar, the greatest market of wonders and beauty in the Dream for those who can afford it. At the dock level, “affectionately” known as the Muck, a lakewall blocks flooding and shrouds the less fortunate in shadow for most of the day. Warrens have been cut into the ancient wall over years of building onto its sinking foundations. Few of these are safe, but to many? It’s home.
The Foundation. This university surrounds the now-empty ring around the foundations of the departed Tower of Art. Tutelage in subjects mundane, martial, and metaphysical remain on offer to the brightest minds of the Dream. For centuries, students have come here to put their gifts on display in pursuit of knowledge and renown. Friends and rivals made at the Academy have shaped the destinies of nations. A tradition of royal patronage allows for a few commoners, orphans, and a few ‘odder’ students to attend.
Palace of the Seven Stars. Shaped in glass that shines the color of the current sky, the imperial palace is open-air (if well-enchanted) and kept private by subtle barriers and illusions crafted into its many arches. Home to the Empress, Waylady of the Capital, and Mistress of the Throne of Knowledge, her palace hosts spell-linked embassies and outbuildings for regional leaders. Its library staggers the imagination and is open to all. The Imperial Library ensures the literacy of all citizens, while documenting all lore of material, historical, or artistic value. Known to few, it also hosts an elite sect of Royal Librarians dedicated to facing otherworldly threats. These fiend hunters serve under the Imperial Curator, the Empress’s wife.
Mansa Sarenna Lohrian. Empress Emerita and Waylady of the capital of Galastaire, known since her prime as The Silver Lion for her bright braids and fearless eyes, few women can boast her power or prestige. Whether her moniker is an insult or compliment in her nineties depends on who’s speaking at the time. Sarenna is shrewd and capable, but burdened by the price of the horrors her adopted son inflicted. She seeks to restore the prominence of her empire, but knows it may be lost forever. With the loss of her daughter Samira, she and her wife have no surviving heirs but Savrias’ own deeply troubled children. She’d rather watch her empire end than allow another unworthy soul to claim her Throne again.
Master Heiwa Hasdrubal Mezroare. The headmaster of the Foundation of Art is a controversial figure. Perhaps the most potent mage left in Galastaire, and one of the few who openly defied Mansa Savrias’s foolhardy scheme, he represents the idea of the ‘true sage’ in many minds. That said, the spells and terrible beings he brought forth in defense of the Throne gave unquiet to many. Many more are concerned with his mysterious appearance with considerable skill and little personal history at the time of Galastaire's greatest conflict. Are they right to worry?
Chocolate’s Treasures. The Lohrian’s agents have not been able to stamp out the most stubborn of the Muck. An unsteady peace between the noble council, criminal clans, and the capital’s Guild of Comfort is an open secret. How a guild of brothels managed to put in check some of the most ruthless people ever dreamed? Is unknown. It’s not even certain if the mythical Chocolate, the ‘silken queen’, even really exists. Even so, her information network is notoriously generous with the secrets of anyone who crosses the Guild, and even more generous with those left hungry or homeless by the wars of their ‘betters’.
Regional Practices
While there are many forms of worship throughout the imperial heartland, there are a few trends that flow outward from the old Galasteri families. Whether one seeks out spirits, ancestors, gods, or philosophies, the common view of the world is one of liminal conflicts. In one realm, there is order and devotion. In the other, passion and conflict reign. The wise and foolish both reside between these realms, walking realms of lore built upon hard-earned memory. In this way, they say, the Muses urge us.
Whether or not the Muses have any affinity to each other is a matter of faith and supposition - there is little formal evidence in observation or divinatory practice. This model is more functional. When one’s views and actions turn towards the greatness of all? This is considered godly. When one’s ambitions and biases reject the whole and strike another path? This is the way of fiends, however kind or cultured their intent may be. Between them? Sages walk the borders, learning lessons and plucking fruits of wisdom with no favor to or reliance upon either. There can be cruel gods and gentle fiends. Sages may be kind or callous, but it’s said that the consequence of gods is proper and the result of risen fiends is always chaos. In this way, rebels and innovators can suffer romantic tragedies, while their ideas still add to the empire.
The sage is the ideal among the Galasteri, and what they consider ‘magic’ is part of daily life. More than arcane or religious practice, it is considered ‘sagely’ to be well-read, to patronize and perform the arts, and to master any craft. There’s nothing mundane in the movements of a master smith, nor those of a master of the spear. Any mastery that grants greater perspective marks true ‘culture’ within the Empire.
A Gift of Words. Once a religious practice, it has become a recent tradition within the last century to present a gift of a book, play, or collection of poetry to indicate a new or changed relationship. The title and context of the work hint at a deeper subtext. Reading aloud is considered a private, intimate act.
Intimacy and Modesty. Nudity, overt sexuality, and passionate aesthetic or erotic performances are common in rural and urban Galasteri lands. Rather than being seen as brazen or scandalous, there is little fanfare given to such affairs unless the fanfare is the point. Intimacy is a matter of context, not appearance or any distinct actions. A bare-handed touch is just as serious as a kiss with the right words or glances. While prostitution is a noble trade, barehanded massage without affection is considered obscene to many human families. “To knead the body is to caress the soul,” or so the old saying goes.
Right of Way. Words are read from right to left in Common Galasteri text. The same goes for the highly literate Galasteri culture. Rank, birth order, quality - all can be read from the rightmost side. Meeting places tend towards being circular seating with opposite entrances to avoid offense. “To the left with you, then!” is a grave insult, a total dismissal and open lack of respect to its intended target.
Ballads in the Blood
The bloodlines of the Imperial Heartland are as varied as you'll find anywhere in the Dream, with each new ancestry adapting to life at the self-proclaimed center of the realm.
Dwarf. Both hill-blooded dwarves from the Bones and dark-skinned native clans ply their trade largely on the surface of the heartland, though most gravitate to either the stone buildings of the major cities or the ever-profitable marble quarries that dot the west.
Elf. Galasteri elves find themselves in a uniquely precarious position. They are favored by their cousins for their insights and inroads into human politics, but at the same time are viewed with suspicion for taking up 'new' cultural norms, no matter how many generations such families have made their lives along the plains.
Halfling. Wherever the rivers run, you'll find its people, and the Families are involved in sailing, banking, and trade, both as day laborers and wealthy owners. A small subset of halflings favor tiny rural communities with simple living and plentiful food, but the average Galasteri halfling would die of boredom at the very thought.
Human. At the center of politics in the center of the world, the word 'Galasteri' and 'human' still stand as almost synonymous. The vast majority of the population is human, so thoroughly blended between the old explorer families and indigenous folks as to be one family. They are the Empire, at least in their own eyes, and can often forget others entirely.
Dragonborn. Surprising few, the largest percentage of Galasteri dragonborn clans have a deep military history, often sworn in allegiance to old human families. Others immigrate to the heartland in pursuit of wealth or prestige, as all dragons tend to do.
Gnome. If the Concerns didn't have a stranglehold on the Delta, they likely would consider the heartland to be a temporary home. They follow opportunity, and there's as much to gain from an empire's fall as there ever was from its rise. Less intrepid gnomes tend to their own affairs, with a large subset of them involved in the Imperial Library or other academic pursuits.
Half-Elf. If elves in the heartland are seen as compromised, half-elves are simply unfortunate. There is no official or legal stigma against them, but the assumptions that trail them are of infidelity, the exoticism of the Other, or a slight tendency to fetishize their 'perfect' features. These issues persist despite large half-elven communities in the east.
Half-Orc. In recent years, the numbers of half-orcs in the heartland has swelled, both from birth and immigration from the Scarlet Coast. The elevation of the Blooded Houses has led to wealth and prosperity that's become the literal envy of many older human lines. Beyond nobility, there's a number of mercenaries, soldiers, adventurers, and hunters among them.
Tiefling. There are perhaps a surprising number of tieflings in the heart of the Empire, and most of them are either rich and respected or poor and despised. Those who have families of means (and questionable pacts) can protect themselves, while others are subject to superstitions about their terrifying and mysterious ancestors to the common folk.
Ideal. There are fewer Ideal in the heartland than in most other regions, if only because it's harder to stand out as a bloom in a field of flowers. The spirits of Galastaire are tame, landed, and careful in their parenting. You'll find some among the nobility, or a few harvest children throughout the irrigated fields and vineyards, but fewer than you'd think.
Refined. While still almost unheard of, a number of Refined have found themselves among the lowest areas of the Muck in the capital of Galastaire. Could a source of such creatures exist even at the heart of the Empire?
Peoples
Places and Faces
Regional Practices
Ballads in the Blood
A Tyranny of Ledgers: Life Under the Galasteri Empire
The nature of empire is to rule over diverse peoples and nations from a point of central authority. In many instances, this comes through annexation by brutal suppression and force of arms. In others, benefits of trade or common law draw territories into willing alliance. In the worst of cases? The local peoples are transplanted or erased by the will and want of colonizing invaders. So which is Galastaire?
As with many stories of history and legend? Perhaps the answer lies somewhere in between, or even all of them at once. In the age of discovery, where the first Galasteri came upon the Dream, they expanded by dint of cohesion, military technology, arcane support, and simple need. They took lands because they found themselves in need of lands and had a surplus of steel-headed spears. The natives of the Heartlands have so blended with the Galasteri now as to be indeterminable, but there are many descendents of the Steppes who think none-too-kindly about the beneficence of Mansas to this day.
As the Empire expanded, it turned to organize its bounty along the high principles it claimed to avow. Raiders were traded out for regional justicars. Looters were replaced by accountants to assess value and tax collectors to take a ‘reasonable portion’. These taxes were turned over to civil administrators who saw to the sorting and forecasting of crops and industry, forecasting decades ahead through bureaucracy and divination. To educate the governed and future local governors, public education became the norm. To stave off plague, unrest, and loss of labor, public health is defended by trained healers armed with massed knowledge of remedies, access to rare medicines, and the magical might of Galastaire. And of course, armies stood in their garrisons and on loan to many regional wayholders, ostensibly to protect the people on the new roads of marble that the Empire was ever-keen to expand upon for three centuries.
In the last century, the Empire has spread through a great siege of tariffs and taxes rather than waging expensive wars of conquest. Citizens receive preferential tax rates and relief from fees on trade goods within and without the Empire. By encircling cities and markets, shouting the benefits of Galasteri administration, they aim to make the empire too expensive to resist, and with moderate success. Galasteri holdings extend into the southern Bones, nearly half of the Delta, most of the Scarlet Coast, and a few island territories on the Sea. The loss of the Steppes to the dragonborn and Savrias’ cold refusal to aid his corrupt peers there sent a shock throughout the Empire. Savrias argued that the Steppes as a whole had failed to meet the promises and standards of his Galastaire, little better than warlord states. This disowning of his western cousins may ring true to anyone who’s seen the narrow wealth and common squalor of Prince’s Promise, but the cost of a war with dragonkind is just as likely a factor.
As the rigid ways and varied gifts of Elvenkind begin to creep along the eastern borders of Imperial territory, many common folk and their leaders have to ask themselves difficult questions. Can they survive or prosper alone? Can they retain their culture and identity under the watchful eyes of the Kind? And as ever, is the protection of an empire worth the cost? “Live as your gods would wish, but to a Mansa’s standard” is both a promise and a threat, especially in light of recent tragedies.
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