Chainlanders
The Chainlands are a sprawling range of tall spires and jagged islands that run all along a cluster of long volcanic rifts carved in Gahla's seabed. They spread wide from the clear blue expanses of Panazur, and into in the grayer southernly latitudes of Royero, just at the edge of the Tempest’s pull.
Chainlanders are a proud people, but they will rarely refer to themselves by such a moniker. They go instead by the name of their nation-state. So they are a Montelvian, an Althraxian, a Luneverranan, or an Ordostian, or any one of a thousand other names you may have heard - but that you had best not slander unless you're ready to bare your knuckles. Their forms of government are many, and fractured by feuds and rivalries that span generations.
What they have in common is a commitment to the idea that folk were meant to settle and build, rather than to wander, or submit to the arbitrary whims of nature. They believe all great achievements require time, vision, and organization. They each believe they brew the one true beer, dress like true citizens, play the true thinking man’s sport, and paint or sculpt like the true old masters. Each spreads sauce and melts cheese on bread the only way the gods intended, damning all who'd dare to improve on their great-grandmother's recipe.
Chainlanders are best known for their Anchorspire cities and astounding inventions. They build grand and orderly metropolises high above the clouds. Their expertise with chain, Flux, and coil is unmatched, for their domains are the only places where truly productive industries can thrive. After all, who would be crazy enough to try building a factory on a loose Ayrland hurtling through the air? It'd be like tossing coins at the wind.
The tragedy of the Chainlander's way of life is that for all their opinions on how leisure and luxury ought to look, they don’t really have much of either. There is always far too little land for their fast-growing populations. Most are not even so lucky to actually live on the spire cities themselves, though their debts and bonds will keep them tethered in their nation's orbit all their lives. They sweat and toil and claw amongst themselves to earn their mintmarks before they get too old to work.
Throughout Gahla's history, an innumerable catalogue of Chainlander nations have peaked and fallen. They leave behind only broken shards of land buried under sea and ice. The archivists are faced with a daunting task in attempting to trace them all, for books are heavy and difficult to transport. Meanwhile, scions and survivors desperately cling to faded symbols and tired flags, singing anthems touting near-forgotten glories. They persevere, hoping that perhaps through honorable works, a bit of luck, and the right alliances, a once dead nation's traditions might rise again, with the lights of its cities righteous shining atop a spire. A beacon to guide huddled masses home.
What they have in common is a commitment to the idea that folk were meant to settle and build, rather than to wander, or submit to the arbitrary whims of nature. They believe all great achievements require time, vision, and organization. They each believe they brew the one true beer, dress like true citizens, play the true thinking man’s sport, and paint or sculpt like the true old masters. Each spreads sauce and melts cheese on bread the only way the gods intended, damning all who'd dare to improve on their great-grandmother's recipe.
Chainlanders are best known for their Anchorspire cities and astounding inventions. They build grand and orderly metropolises high above the clouds. Their expertise with chain, Flux, and coil is unmatched, for their domains are the only places where truly productive industries can thrive. After all, who would be crazy enough to try building a factory on a loose Ayrland hurtling through the air? It'd be like tossing coins at the wind.
The tragedy of the Chainlander's way of life is that for all their opinions on how leisure and luxury ought to look, they don’t really have much of either. There is always far too little land for their fast-growing populations. Most are not even so lucky to actually live on the spire cities themselves, though their debts and bonds will keep them tethered in their nation's orbit all their lives. They sweat and toil and claw amongst themselves to earn their mintmarks before they get too old to work.
Throughout Gahla's history, an innumerable catalogue of Chainlander nations have peaked and fallen. They leave behind only broken shards of land buried under sea and ice. The archivists are faced with a daunting task in attempting to trace them all, for books are heavy and difficult to transport. Meanwhile, scions and survivors desperately cling to faded symbols and tired flags, singing anthems touting near-forgotten glories. They persevere, hoping that perhaps through honorable works, a bit of luck, and the right alliances, a once dead nation's traditions might rise again, with the lights of its cities righteous shining atop a spire. A beacon to guide huddled masses home.
Suggested Races
Humans, Dwarves, Half-Folk, Elves, Half-Elves, GnomesAncestral Features:
Chainlanders begin with one Novice Professional Edge of your choice, ignoring Ability or Skill requirements. Chainlanders begin with 2 additional skill points to distribute, for a total of 14.Ancestral Hindrances
- Cautious
- Clumsy
- Code of Honor
- Dread (HOR p6)
- Greedy
- Obligation
Ancestral Edges
- Heirloom (FANTASY p32)
- Trademark Weapon (CORE p44)
- Rich (CORE p40)
- Formation Fighter (FANTASY p34)
- Sunder (FANTASY p35)
- Favored Enemy (FANTASY p32)
- Ace (CORE p47)
- Stonecunning (FANTASY p40)
- Soldier (CORE p49)
- Scholar (CORE p49)