The Globe

1. The Lands of the Princes

2. Kurgia

3. Shino

4. The Empire of Lullabies

Very little has ever been known of the world beyond the islands of men. This has come about by an ancient fear of the nearby continent, which only in recent decades has been actualized by the Emperor of Lullabies.

THE LANDS OF THE PRINCES

In CE:160, immigrants and asylum seekers began to trickle into Voulhire with stories of a violent civil war that had begun across their homeland, the islands of Numerius, which had recently belonged to a human kingdom ruled by Calico Kaimer and his lords. The islands had been annexed by a previously unknown empire that dominates the continent just south of the human islands. All that we know about this conflict comes to us through these immigrants, who themselves have heard it through a circulation of information centered around the princes, who now rule those islands.

The ruler of this mysterious empire, whom the people of the Princes call the Emperor of Lullabies, feared a conspiracy by his four sons to overthrow him. In response, the emperor used his immense power to shape the many islands of nearby Numerius into four larger islands, making each a tropical paradise teeming with humans for them to be ruled. Although the emperor confronted his four sons in regards to their plan, he forgave them, and proceeded with this generosity, which all four of the princes were happy to accept.

None of the immigrants know quite how or by whom the ensuing war began, but one day, the princes were at war against each other, each prince seeking to conquer the three islands of his brothers.

It seems that, at some point years into the war, the princes realized that their father had manipulated them into fighting one another. Still, not one of the four let up their arms for fear of the other three.

Thus, the war has waged, with an intensity that ebbs and flows, for twenty years. Immigrants from those lands bound for ours grow fewer, as both the Princes’ and Voulhirian policies make it difficult for immigrants and asylum seekers to come here. The lucky ones continue to find their way (such as a named heir, or through acceptance into the Destinic clergy); they arrive with no stories of amnesty, nor of any hope that things might change there.

KURGIA

For many Voulhirians, the nation of Kurgia is the one known simply for being the origin of “black” people. Nowadays, there are few Voulhirians, even among the educated, who know much more than this, and its general geography.

Kurgia consists of two main islands that almost fit into each other, a thin strip of water called the Duma Bay runs between them, dotted with smaller islands. Altogether, the Kurgian landmasses make up just less than half the landmass of Voulhire. It is a tropical region, similar to the Lands of the Princes (though the Princes was only made tropical by the power of the Emperor of Lullabies).

After the revolution that saw the overthrow of the Kurgian Republic in what we would call the year CE:81, the second-largest nation of men became a sultanate.

The people of Kurgia love their folklore, and a great many of their most popular tales entail the powers of nature, the powers of the Earth. This cultural reverence for physics is attributed to Kurgia’s intrinsic aptitude for engineering. Indeed, Voulhirian visitors to Kurgia return home with nothing to talk about but the design of the very foundations on which their cities stand.

When Kurgia revolutionized from a republic to a monarchy similar to ours (albeit unprotected by a body such as Mianora), many aspects of their culture had changed as well.

In the early CE:30s, a man named Desancrius became popular among his people in Kurgia. He was known for being well-travelled, particularly in regards to his ten-year stay in Voulhire. He was a healer and travelling counselor. Kurgians would flock to him for his advice in every town to which he travelled.

His rising popularity allured many a senator, who befriended him for political gain. The east consul even relied on him for support among the senate for reelection, and perhaps won because of it.

While Desancrius never partook of politics directly, he did use his new friends to build a university in the city of Brannattus Dith on the West Island. He called the university Transeternia, for the knowledge he sought would conquer all of time.

Indeed, the fruits of Transeternia won the attention of the entire republic. Notorious sicknesses, such as Hell’s Bog and the Creeping Fungus, were eradicated after years of seasonal resurgences. Fueled both by its fame and by the ambition of Desancrius, the enterprise expanded aggressively. Within five years, most of the people in Brannottus Dith were practically working for it. The advances they made were relied upon across the country.

For decades, Transeternia functioned with a monopoly on its own discoveries. But they were fair, even charitable, with what they charged their patients and their students. This was because the institution was funded, in large part, by the republic, and also on generous donations. Transeternia would often make public spectacles of the children they had saved; such campaigns paid for themselves a thousand times over.

All of Kurgia was happier, healthier. Over the generations that followed, people had even sworn the populace was becoming better-looking.

But through these decades of miraculous advancement, the public never got to see the engine of these miracles. In the deepest halls of the university, mages and shamans called upon Caromentis and Hell to apply the most unnatural alterations upon the body.

When these acts became rumored, the senate denounced them as the musings of political troublemakers. When they became proven by a scientist named Andumar, the senate demanded answers.

Desancrius, who by now was in his nineties but appeared in his forties, was comfortable in his response: not only did he self-justify all that he had done, but urged the people of Kurgia to look at themselves, asking the famous question, “Who among you would undo what has been done?” He then challenged the senate directly, denouncing them for having served as nothing but dogs for fifty years. To all the scribes and spectators present at the forum, Desancrius gesticulated wildly as he cried, “These niggers would throw us back into an age of helplessness!”

As the republic became further divided between those who supported Desancrius and those who supported the failed republic, a hero by the name of Janus Ballard spoke out with equal animus against both sides, and became popular among those who tired of having to choose between evil and incompetence, and otherwise having to accept the unacceptable flaws of the “lesser evil.”

Ballard built an army on the East Island, where the senate had more influence. They did little to stop him, in no small part because they were preparing for war with Desancrius and his followers on the West Island. Ballard knew he had to be fast and efficient, which is why he sent his army earlier than all of his closest men had advised. It was a gamble, but Ballard managed to overthrow the senate by attacking them directly. When the senate was gone, their support among the people, even among the civilian guard and Republican Army, faded. Most of the disillusioned converted their support to Ballard and his army, who quickly and loudly vowed to destroy Desancrius and all of Transeternia with the same ferocity that he destroyed the senate.

Desancrius tried to reason with Ballard, later sending promising dreams and threatening nightmares to his followers. Legend suggests that Desancrius had brought one of Ballard’s followers to a state of sleep walk, under which trance he tried to kill Ballard in his sleep.

Unconvinced, Ballard pointed his sword against the West Island, and sent his men across the Duma Bay. There, he fought both the followers and creations of Desancrius, burning jungles and salting the soil so that nothing could be grown on this island so influenced by one so evil.

Ballard was so horrified by what he saw that he gave no quarter to those who fought for Desancrius. Most accounts and historians agree that these summary executions were carried out not in bloodlust, but in fear for the spread of this unnatural and unholy influence.

The details of what Ballard found are mostly lost to history, as he kept no records on the matter and swore his men to silence on pain of death.

Ballard won what became known as the Duma Bay War, but he never found Desancrius. Instead of obsessing, or burning every last fiber of corrupted life on the West Island, Ballard immediately started to form a new government on the East Island, seated in a new capital, Pamoja, on the shores facing their closest neighbor, Voulhire.

The nation almost universally wanted Ballard to take the mantle of Sultan of Kurgia, but Ballard refused. Once the newly-formed sultanate was firmly established, the great Kurgian hero receded from public life and went to live quietly on the shores of Duma Bay. There, he spent the rest of his days glaring across the water, personally making sure that the machinations of Desancrius would never emerge from that island.

Per Ballard’s wishes, Kurgia would go on to enjoy a robust commercial relationship with Voulhire, one which would last for the better part of a century. In recent years, however, this relationship has slowed.

The West Island, commonly referred to today as Dith, remains mostly vacant and unvisited. Wanted criminals sometimes flee there to unknown fates. There have been no official excursions there since the war, and ships now patrol Duma Bay to send criminals and curious stragglers back home. No charges are ever brought upon by the enforcers boarded on these vessels.

Many years after his death, Janus Ballard is still revered by the Kurgian people. According to legend, the Grandmother Goddess collected his soul and placed him in the eternal service of Kurgia as its holy guardian.

Today, 99 years after the Duma Bay War, Kurgia is a conservative nation that focuses on the powers of the Cosmos. They abhor magic, associating its corrupting capabilities with the follies of Desancrius. They have a keen mistrust on anything that cannot be scientifically analyzed.

This mentality leaves religion in an odd situation in Kurgia. Kurgians interpret “good spirits” as being on a different plane of the physical universe. You will not find any temples, churches or religious clerics in the cities of Kurgia, as Kurgians practice their beliefs in higher powers through their fables. They believe in the Grand Mother Goddess and her daughters, who, from a physical plane above the comprehension of the human brain, guide the nation of Kurgia and its people.