Editing Typhonian Reach (section)

== Factions - PC ==

'''Citadel of Learning (lordmcdeath)'''
(Power 2, Cohesion 2, Action Die 1d8, XP 0, Dominion 2)
By all rights the city-state recently renamed the Citadel of Learning should be the most powerful entity on the continent. Sitting at the mouth where the Father Torrent and Nin-Sish Rivers mingle and rush through the Alluvial Deltas, the Citadel is the natural gateway between the river civilizations of Nin, Neb, Zin; the rest of the continent; and the archipelago beyond.

But woe has befallen the city in recent years. The lugals who ruled the city were slothful, vice-ridden, and neglectful, thinking the river's bounty was theirs by right. Slowly, over the years, troubles beset them.

First, a tribe of near savages, the Scylaxi, wrested control of Great Pincer Bay from the city, choking off trade not only to the city itself by the entire fertile valley region.

Then strange events began occurring in the abandoned ruins between the city and the ancient, swamp-submerged settlement of E-adish. Raids by bandits and even the long-legendary bullu-gug... the degenerate man-frogs of the elder world... ravaged the city's surrounding fields. Fear blanketed the settlements nearest to old E-adish; whispers arose of strange prophets urging renunciation of the old Laws in favor of obeisances to something called "The Devourer." Ill stars appeared in the heavens, pestilence ravaged the city, and people clutched their amulets against what seemed to be an unending plague of misfortune.

The people, desperate, decided to fight sorcery with sorcery. When the outlander mage Illuminous appeared in the city, working miracles, invoking the mantle of divinity, claiming to have the answers to the city's problems, the people rose up and overthrew the lugals. Illuminous was anointed ruler, but he immediately delegated rule to a council of hand-picked viziers, the Order of the Healing Flame.

Even so, life improved. The Order began beating back the pestilence, rooting out evil and purging impurity with flame. Schools were opened, not merely to the children of the high and the wealthy, but to all.

Illuminous, though, had important work to do. Restoring the city to greatness would be among his tasks, but this would be a consequence of his greater plan.

'''Gath (EnigmaticOne)
'''
(Power 2	
Cohesion 2
Action Die 1d8, XP 0, Dominion 2)
The people of Gath reside in the north of the archipelago known as Typhon’s Wake, built into the foothills of the Zakros mountain range. Three different volcanoes exist within the chain, known in order of greatest to least size as: the King-Peak of Fire, the Lady-Peak of Fire, and the Child-Peak of Fire. The brooding volcanoes offer peril but also bounty: Copper ore and obsidian practically spill forth from the slopes to anoint the people of Gath, while the rich ash-nurtured soil gifts Gath’s farmers with abundance, including lush grapes for the making of amaranth wines treasured throughout the region.

Despite the fire of its mountains and the fire of its wines, what blazes brightest in Gath is the genius of Pars, its demigod prodigy-smith. Pars’ craftsmanship and inventive mind are inspiring a similar interest in Gath’s population. 

'''Tolundria (CowboyEnergy)
'''
(Power 2,	
Cohesion 2,
Action Die 1d8, XP 0, Dominion 2)
In the mountains to the south of the great alluvial deltas stands a great peak of jagged granite, gazing contemptuously over the soft lowlands at its horizon. The farmers below make obeisance to the mountain, calling it Tolu-Gal, the Rock of Kings. And atop this peak dwell a people as hard as the rock of their home, as fierce as the gyre-hawks and gryphons of the surrounding range. Under the tutelage of the warmaster Tarlaak Vaar, these proud fighters test themselves against the unforgiving mountain, to become as stone, to break or be broken.

This is Tolundria, stranger. For your sake, may you come in peace.

'''The Tribes and the Tomb Lords (Marikir)'''
(Power 2, Cohesion 2, Action Die 1d8, XP 0, Dominion 2)

They only called themselves the Tribes. A loose collection of families, led by a council of wisemen, the Tribes were once a migratory society. They moved from area to area, seeking food, shelter, and other necessities. But, tales told at night around the campfires spoke of the Menace; the event or thing that had driven them out decades before. They did not follow a set path through the land, no. For if they did, the Menace would find them. No, they were the Tribes and to survive, they moved ever onward. Always moving onward.

Until the Winter.

They were known as the Tomb Lords. A society of humans dwelling in ruins and ancient septs carved into the living mountains they called home. It was a mountain full of ancient tombs and the Tomb Lords, as they came to be known, lived and dwelled here, eking out a meager existence through trade and service. What service you ask? The service of internment. They learned how to handle the dead in all manner of ways. Burial, cremation, sky, water, all manner of ways of dealing with a mortal form no longer inhabited by life. A society of morticians. They were silent, observing all, never becoming involved.

Until the Winter.

The Winter brought the Tribes to the doorstep of the Tomb Lords. A hasty agreement was made. The Tribes could camp near and shelter from the worst of the weather, but only for that Winter. Trade between them was good and sustained both. All the while, the Tomb Lords watched, silent. 

Until the White Death came.

The plague swept through the Tribes, causing massive loss of life. Unable to resist the ravages of the disease, many thousands died. The Tomb Lords did what they could, but the chaos and confustion wrought by the disease spread fear among the Tribes; fear of the strangers who came to claim their dead. To the Tomb Lords, there was no question. Who better to deal with the dead bodies? They had a many lifetimes's experience at this. But the tension grew and grew until it was about to burst into spilled blood.

Until the Widow awoke.

One of the many victims of the White Death, a wife and mother of the Tribes, the Widow awoke from her death to a new life. With a sudden command over Death, Life, and Disease, she swept the White Death from her people. She moved among them, all vestiges of the plague driven before her. And in her Rising, the Tomb Lords saw a glimpse of the Divine; a glimpse of Death, personified. 

Now, two societies, neither whole alone, find themselves at a crossroads. The Tomb Lords see the Tribes as possessing a being of Divine Death. The Tribes, long wanderers, can no longer leave this place. They must settle here, using the gifts of the newly awoken Widow to discover the sciences of farming and planting. They do not know what will befall them now. But some of the very few surviving elders whisper a name...and wonder when, not if, but when the Menace will come for them.

'''Yayoi (Jeremy Kopcynski)
'''
(Power 2,
Cohesion 2,
Action Die 1d8)
The island-dwelling Yayoi are a people in transition. Formerly foragers, they have recently discovered the arts of farming and bronze working. Besides the cultivated fields fishing is a major source of nutrition and also of superstitions as they brave the dangerous seas. 

They are organized into several matrilineal clans and have recently begun to develop an elaborate social hierarchy based on personal honor and achievement. Politically Yayoi is a chiefdom and has recently elevated the high priestess-turned-demigoddess Ama to lead them. 

In matters of religion they are led by priestesses and shamans who attempt to serve as intercessors between the people and anything viewed as supernatural. Until very recently, sacrifices of the high priestess was common.