Crowsilver

Crowsilver
Flag Coat of Arms
Motto: Korach dai Stark, in Fjörsholm's Gotte!
Anthem: Á Sprengisandi
Regional Capital	Hjartahom
Official language(s)	Krufnsprakur
Government
- Type	county
- Leader	ESB-Jörmungandr Group (last)
Area
Population	3,475,360 (in 1656 AN)
Time zone(s)	CMT-1

Crowsilver (Krufnsprakur: Krufnsilfr) was a County in the Kingdom of Goldshire, a Duchy in Shireroth. It was located on the Apollonian continent and created by Ryker Everstone. The majority of the former territory lies in Meckelnburgh, with southern portions on the Kurgan Coast in Ashinthael and Hurmu.

In 1684 AN Arkadius Frederik Gustavus des Vinandy made an attempt to resurrect the county in order to preserve the estate of Kaiseress Noor in favour of Kaiserin-Gemahlin Esther Fatima Gudrid des Vinandy of the Houses of Ayreon-Kalirion and of the Descendants of Freyja. The claim at the MCS-council did not make it, after which the attempt was abandoned. The Duchy of Frisiæ was developed instead.

History

Crowsilver has a long and mythical history filled with magic, war and strange creatures. An example of the lore of Crowsilver can be found in the ancient story A Song of Crowsilver. The County became part of Goldshire under the leadership of Ryker Everstone and was one of the first of Shireroth's expansions after the loss of Kildare. Layla Verion became Countess of Crowsilver at the start of Grand Duchess Noor Bint Simrani-Kalirion's reign, and sparked a very brief period of cultural development.

The Hammish Civil War, and Sxiro-Natopian intervention therein, had a catalysing effect geopolitical relations on Micras, triggering the formation of an anti-Shirerithian bloc centred around Jingdao and Passio-Corum. One of the first acts of the so-called Voorpost Pact in 1647 was to attempt to impose a naval blockade of the Hammish overseas territory of Neo Patrova situated midway between USSO aligned Gerenia and the territory of Crowsilver. The ESB-Jörmungandr Group and the Imperial Government jointly hired a veritable host of native warbands, lured with a mixture of upfront payments and dubious promises concerning rights of plunder, to escort a relief convoy overland from Crowsilver to the garrison of the Sxiro-Hammish Agricultural Mission in Neo-Patrova.

This mercenary tradition continued during the active phase of the War of Lost Brothers (1653-1656). The King of Goldshire paid for bands of Crowsilver warriors to raid the Jingdaoese shore across the Northern Sea. Yet when the war drew to its dismal conclusion, and worse yet the King lapsed into an inconvenient coma care of another round of botched facial surgery, the hirings and the payments abruptly ceased.

The ESB-Jörmungandr Group was, under somewhat dubious circumstances, granted the title of count (“Yfrmathr”) in commission for Crowsilver by the King of Goldshire in 1651. The corporations activities in the territory attracted scant attention from the outside world until a tragic industrial accident in 1657 saw an uncontrolled release of phosgene at an ESB chemical synthesis facility in Hjartahorn. 95,000 Krufnsilfr, the indigenous population descended from settlers of the Gralan 'New Territories', perished during the incident and a further 600,000 suffered acute poisoning and respiratory symptoms in the days and weeks afterwards.

In spite of a highly publicised visit by the young Kaiser, Ayreon IV, in the immediate aftermath of the catastrophe, the impression quickly spread that the fate of the Krufnsilfr was one which Goldshire, to say nothing of the Imperial Government in Shirekeep, regarded with complete indifference.

This impression was far from being misleading. Even before the Froyalanish genocide and the wave of decolonisation following the expulsion of the Froyalanish monarchy from Elwynn, the scattered overseas territories of the Imperial Republic had been considered an unnecessary burden. Following the loss of Kildare to Jingdao in 1617 there had been an abrupt shift away from the internationalist world view, wherein – under the Alexander Doctrine – Shireroth had considered itself to be a world spanning colossus at liberty to subsume any and all failing nations the world over into the Imperial Republic. Disgusted by the betrayal fomented by their erstwhile Apollonian comrades, the Shirerithians of the remaining Imperial States began to consider their empire to be essentially Benacian in character. As confidence recovered and rearmament began in the 1630s, it was perhaps inevitable that the primary effort of the Imperial Republic turned towards the subjugation of western Benacia, the so-called graveyard of empires, where then Minarboria tottered and proffered new opportunities. Next to this, Crowsilver – peripheral, foreign, and impoverished – was hilariously irrelevant.

Already in 1651, as the moment of the Froyalanish genocide approached, a brief revolt had been sparked by rumours that Crowsilver was about to be sold to the King of Elwynn as part of a sordid trade to coax Noah into releasing occupied Mishalan from his control. The land-swap had fallen through, just one of a myriad of factors contributing to the downfall of the Froyalanish, and the restive locals had been appeased by the appointment of the Elfinshi matron Layla Verion as Ethnarch of Crowsilver. The separatist movement quickly lost steam and realm of Crowsilver once more recognised the King of Goldshire as its liege.

In 1652 the Apollonian Division of the Goldshire Regulars was disbanded and replaced by five regiments of local militia, known collectively as the Crowsilver Division. The air defence systems, artillery, and armoured vehicles with which the old garrison had been generously equipped, had also departed with the trained regulars, looted by the Imperial Forces to equip the garrison of the Lywall Protectorate. The Crowsilver Division, in contrast to its predecessor formation, was little more than a mounted gendarmerie. At around the same time the port and island of Fystlond was leased to the Imperial Navy. Not much is known about imperial activity on the island but it is widely suspected that it serves as an anchorage for u-boats and minelayers belonging to the Eastern Armada. This constituted about the maximum extent of Imperial interest in this far-flung colonial possession of the Kingdom of Goldshire. Continental Crowsilver was abandoned in 1660, after which Crowsilver was completely abandoned in 1663.

Counts of Crowsilver until 1663

• Sangstone the First
• Grim the Strong
• Valknr the Wise
• Lews the Horse-man
• Erik the Sailor
• Grim II the Mad
  

Interregnum

• Rykr the Short
• Layla the Beautiful
• Kadag the New

Rule of the People (unofficial)

• ESB-Jörmungandr Group

Krufnsilfr's law

This law is for man. Man is beast. Troll is mirror to man. All beasts are equal. All beasts are free. No man shall take from other beasts what is not offered to him. No man shall take without giving. All men must fight with other men to resolve conflict. Once a matter is resolved, it shall remain so until another fight is won to bring it back into question. A fight’s terms are to be determined by the challenged party alone. Terms of a fight must be found fair and just by all witnesses save the challenger. Homes are sacred and cannot be desecrated. Lands outside of homes are owned by any man who is victorious over the land’s previous owner. Krufnsilfr shall neither grow nor shrink. Prices may only be placed on items of luxury. This law belongs to the Yfirmathr. Man is to determine man’s punishments. The song of Krufn is to be sung at all times by no less than three men at a time in each village. Krufnsilfr is brother to Suthergold and son of Hrykria. All ships are sacred. What is a ship at sea cannot be a ship out of the sea. Bein is a sacred material and may only be touched and manipulated by the Beindreyri. Items may only be sold by the Blardreyri. Runes are sacred and may only be wielded by the Merkidreyri and Nordthanverdthr. Swords are sacred and may only be wielded by the Haettrdreyri. Shields are sacred and may only be wielded by the Varthidreyri. Svartrvatn is a sacred material and may only be used with the blessing of Krufn. Blakkrjarn is a sacred material and may only be shaped by the Smidthrdreyri. To destroy a sacred object such must be done by a single man with not but his own two hands. Marglodth is a dagrot and so cannot be touched by Krufnsilfr lest Krufn shall unleash its wrath. All of dagrot must be bathed in Svartrvatn so that it shines as silfr. Fehu is deserved by all whose good outweighs his bad in the eye of Krufn.

Culture

Over-enthusiastic Krufnsilfrians boarded their longships to attack Shirekeep

Anthem

Brothers 'cross shores bring on riches grand HEY! Bring 'bout lasting grace and victory We are far in distance but not soul O! Gods allow that we may never war Chorus: Fortune guide out paths and shadow's magic light the way Everstone be bathed in blackened waters night and days Let no nation ever seize thine lands AH! Let us ever bring aid should such pass Our existence as a nation shall show all around us that unity is strength Fortune guide out paths and shadow's magic light the way Everstone be bathed in blackened waters night and days<br/ Ours is like kin's bond yet ever stronger Power from our people is more still East brings night and life an unknown magics West sends heaven's light and all its wealth Fortune guide out paths and shadow's magic light the way Everstone be bathed in blackened waters night and days

Song of Crowsilver

Part I

Let me tell you about the age of Ice, the age of Trolls and Giants, of Heroes and Kings. Days long gone and forgotten. It was during the rule of Oluf Godswind that these things took place. In days of winter, cold as it has never been since, at the end of the Long Night. It was then, that even the trolls and the cave headed to the south to shelter from the blistering cold and the snowstorms. It was clear that the gods had forsaken our country, and given it over to the elements. At least, so it seemed.

In a small village on the Frozen Sea, a crow came flying one day, carrying a message for the village Elderman. It wasn’t a common occurrence, even back then, and the people of the village all gathered around the Town Hall, where the Elderman read the letter. It was a short letter, only a few words, but they were enough to fill the hearts of the village folk with fear. It read:

The Wall of Aegir has fallen, darkness has descended upon the Realm.

Only a few alive today know what this Wall of Aegir was. To understand why the villagers were so frightened of these words, you should know about it first. See, in the ancient days, the forces of magic had a much stronger and more visible presence on Micras than nowadays. Magic was used to heal sick and to protect soldiers when they went off to war. However, magic also had a very dark side. There was nothing that represented this dark side more, than the Sinidur, a band of mysterious and shadowy creatures. They were not human, but neither were they beast, and they were skilled practioners of dark magic. It is hard to think of something that was more terrifying to the people than the Sinidur.

To face this thread, and to prevent the Sinidur from ever entering the realms of men, Aegir, the God-King, had built a wall at the eastern border. The wall was massive, grey and strong and has stood for thousands of years. But now, the wall had fallen… The villagers rallied together and shouted in fear. They were one of the settlements closest to the Wall of Aegir, and they were certainly in great peril at the moment. The strongest men of the village quickly rose up with wild plans as to how to keep the village safe.

“We need to strengthen the palisade!” Gromwind of Futhark shouted. “No, coward! We need to arm and meet the Sinidur in open battle!” was the advise of Gloin Venrir “Kill them with fire!” said Ragnak Oakheart.

Then, the Elderman, who had not said anything until this moment, spoke. “No, people, there is nothing in this world that could ever safe us from the darkness of the Sinidur. There is no force in the world that is powerful enough to withstand the armies of evil. Only the Gods can help us now.

Night fell. The people of the village couln't sleep but sat together in the town hall, praying and fearing. From the east, a cold wind blew....

Part II

They had been riding for three days now, without rest. The cold was almost unbearable and the freezing wind seemed to find a way even through all the layers of fur the men were wearing. Truly, they had left the civilized world to enter the part of the realm that the Gods had forgotten about. Desolate rock formations, endless frozen plains and thick, dark woods had been their home this entire time. Still, Gideon Valsknut didn’t complain. He was a Scout of the Realm, and it was his duty to carry out orders. Even if they lead him to the borderlands.

Terrifying messages had arrived at the capital some days ago. Talks about the fall of the Wall of Aegir and the return of the Sinidur. At first, Gideon had been skeptical. For him, magic was something from stories and old wives tales. But now, he wasn’t so sure anymore. Looking up to the sky, Gideon knew that there was something strange and unnatural about it. He had never seen a sky as dark as this. It was almost black. And then then the carcasses of the animals along the road… torn apart as by some mythical force. He didn’t want to admit it to himself, and surely he would never say it out loud, but Gideon was as frightened as he had ever been in his life.

Still, the small band of scouts carried on. Besides Gideon, there were three riders. Valter and Krum Olufson, the brothers, and captain Erik Smälbrod, a fierce and respectable man. They were chosen to investigate the rumours, and visit the settlements near the Wall of Aegir. Small towns mostly, with quaint folk living in there. Gideon had calculated that the first village should be less than an hour away now. Quietly, the scouts moved on through the desolate landscape.

“Captain, look over there!” Krum Olufson pointed at something in the distance. It was hard to see against the black sky, but a column of dark smoke rose up from behind a forrest. In a hurry, the scouts rode towards them. Even with the fast pace their horses rode, it took the men almost half an hour to reach the spot from where the smoke came. And when they did, they could only gaze in astonishment and horror.

Before their eyes were the remnants of what once had been a village. The palisade and the houses were destroyed, no, obliterated is a better word. Smoke rose from the smothering ashes. In the centre of the village, on the town square, laid the bodies of the village folk. They were put in a large circle, side by side. Their eyes were gushed out. Gideon turned his head away. He was used to seeing death, but this was nothing even remotely close to what he had witnessed before. This was pure evil.

Finally, the voice of Captain Smälbrod broke the silence. “We should burn the bodies, give them a proper send-off. Then we shall return to the Capital immediately. The Count should know what has happened here.”

The scouts unmounted their horses and walked towards the bodies when they heard a horrific sound. It was like the scream of a bird in pain, but then much louder and more chilling. A thick black smoke filled the entire village. The scouts couldn’t see anything. Gideon was scared out of his mind. He ran away as fast as he could. Behind him, he heard a man screaming. Probably Valter. He ran through the woods and hid behind a large rock whilst trying not to listen to the screams and cries. He prayed to the Gods and closed his eyes.

He must have been lying there for hours. When Gideon finally dared open his eyes again, he saw that the smoke had cleared. He sent a short prayer of thanks to the Gods. He was safe for now. He walked to the village, hoping that his comrades were alive as well. Still careful, looking around him for signs of warning, he moved towards the village.

From through the trees, Gideon saw a figure coming towards him. He gripped his sword as tight as he could and waited. He breathed out with relief when he saw that it was Captain Smälbrod, he had survived as well!

“Captain” Gideon shouted “are you all right? Let’s get out of here!”

He ran towards the captain, who walked slowly. Perhaps he was wounded. Gideon ran faster, together, they could leave this hell immediately. But suddenly, something held him back. Gideon’s pace slowed down when he looked at the Captain. And when he looked at his face, he froze in terror. There stood Captain Smälbrod, and there were two bloody holes where his eyes used to be…

by Jack