Isle of Krell
While Celenis boasts of both its economic and religious superiority, the true religious center of Solum, and the highest cleric-per-capita nation is indisputably the Isle of Krell.
This small island nation places an incredible focus on three of the Divine Pantheon: The Highlord Aeterius, Sentinel Kemis, and Watcher Voxus, with the others being relegated to secondary (if not less) status. In Krellian culture, purity of motive and body are lauded above all else, and the massive religious organization of the Krellic Church is a powerful machine across many of the nations of Solum, as the divine court advisors of several major nations are adherents, if not ordained clergy themselves.
Ostensibly independent, in practice the Isle is a vassal of Celenis, and happily so: the lack of necessary political interaction, limited economic concerns, and widespread recognition in the religious world has left the quiet island nation free to contemplate divine will and act accordingly. Celenis, for its own measure, benefits greatly by the association, leaning heavily into the "divine mandate" of it's superiority, as well as it's increasingly entrenched stranglehold on intercontinental trade.
Nation Info
Official Name: The Revered Isle of KrellCapital: Calaren
Population: ~250,000
Government: Elective Theocracy
Leader:
- Corinne Amidulus
- Wilhelm Riad
- Sariss Kalkorae
Demonym: Krellin, Krellic
Major Exports:
- Incense
- Wax
- Paper
Military
- 10,000 Combatants
- Warships: 10 Warships
Breed Distribution
- 60% - Simulacrum
- 25% - Human
- 14% - Rahkdari
Religion Distribution
- 90% - The Highlord
- 10% - The Tower
- 5% - Other
Old age should burn and rave at close of day;
Rage, rage against the dying of the light."
Though wise men at their end know dark is right,
Because their words had forked no lightning they
Do not go gentle into that good night.
Good men, the last wave by, crying how bright
Their frail deeds might have danced in a green bay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.
Wild men who caught and sang the sun in flight,
And learn, too late, they grieved it on its way,
Do not go gentle into that good night.
Grave men, near death, who see with blinding sight
Blind eyes could blaze like meteors and be gay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.
And you, my father, there on the sad height,
Curse, bless, me now with your fierce tears, I pray.
Do not go gentle into that good night.
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.
~ Dylan Thomas