Caledor is raised along the volcanic spine of southern Ulthuan, a stern kingdom of fire-mountains and deep dragon-halls where the mightiest of all the asur's works was born. It was a son of this land, Caledor Dragontamer, who wove the Great Vortex that drinks the world's wild magic and starves the Dark Gods of their foothold, and it was the dragon princes of Caledor, riding the great drakes to war, who ruled the skies of Ulthuan in the age of its glory. That memory rests upon the kingdom like a crown grown too heavy to lift, and the pride of Caledor is the oldest and the hottest in all the Phoenix King's realms.
But the drakes grow fewer with every century that turns. The great dragons sink ever deeper into fire-drowned sleep, rousing rarely and for fewer riders each age, and the halls that once thundered with wings stand quiet now. The princes ride on regardless, armoured in dragon-forged plate that no flame can touch, bearing themselves as though nothing at all had changed, and refusing, hall to silent hall, to say aloud what the lengthening quiet beneath the mountains must finally mean. In Caledor, dignity is the last art still practised in full, and it is practised over a grief that no elf of that proud kingdom will consent to name.
Order of battle
The Caledor field the units of the High Elf Realms, a detachment from the roster:
Other High Elf Realms formations
ChraceThe wild northern march of Ulthuan, a kingdom of hunters and axemen whose high passes stand between the heartlands and the raiders out of Naggaroth. Chracians are the least courtly of the asur and the first to bleed for them; since hunters of Chrace saved the second Phoenix King from assassins, the lion-cloaked axemen of this land have stood closest to every throne.
EataineThe richest of the ten kingdoms and the heart of asur sea-power, whose capital Lothern is the greatest harbour in the world. Through the Emerald Gate pass the fleets that police ten thousand miles of ocean, and in Lothern's marble court sits the Phoenix King himself. Eataine is where Ulthuan's golden age still burns brightest, and where its merchant princes insist it is not fading at all.
SapheryThe kingdom of magic, where the White Tower of Hoeth rises like a needle of moonlight above enchanted meadows. Here the Loremasters keep the deep arts of the asur (vortex-lore, the old wards, an age's worth of hoarded theory), and the Swordmasters guard the stairways with blades faster than thought. Saphery's power is quiet, and Ulthuan's enemies have learned to fear the quiet.
Discussion
- No comments yet. Be the first to reply.