Founded in the year of the lord, 1606, as a colonial fief and a barony on a parcel granted to the late baron, and count, one Sezarius the Astute, by his royal majesty, King Tobias in the realm of Courland as a place for the loyal subjects of more varied and uncommon backgrounds to settle without fear of reprisal or a more forcible exodus to follow. As of the year 1621, elevated to the status of county due to it’s steady and persistent growth. The title of County was given to Sezarius’ Valkyria by King Abdes de Savin.
Directly south, south east from the Asul docks, with a castle located to it's north west, Valkyria rests safely cradled within the shoreline of Greygrowl Coast, with the Axios Sea looming with menacing beauty whenever the eyes turn to dawn’s side.
Ethnicity/Culture of the Region
As is the case with most colonies that the Descendants make - hamlets, villages, even the youthful cities that spring amidst the wilderness they are forced to discover, explore and tame, different with each generation and each new world the doom has chased them into, settlers that wish naught of the most urban life, the colonists and pioneers creating these usually have their own sets of reasons to support their likewise independent and surviving spirit. For some, the realms of Man had grown corrupt or dangerous, the constant bloodshed and rabid sociale often makes even a brief stay a threat to some. Non-humans born in whatever incarnation of Oren exists at the time of their birth and raised with amidst the more common cultures and tongues. Cosmopolitan traders and nomads who had long forsaken whatever vain ideals their kin strive for and instead choose to live by experience and by joy, finding themselves in their trek when their own races seek their innate purpose in religion, arcane mastery or war crafts. Or just the common criminals and undesirables - pickpockets, heretics and dissidents, that their societies are happy to be rid of, or even, sometimes, support their settlement, provided that they remain as distant as is physically possible for them to be. Valkyria, even originally, wasn’t terribly unique in that regard - Norlanders themselves, tough folk used to harsh weather and harsher lives - were rarely the sort to fit in with their feudal kin. Their pursuits didn’t stretch continents, and their ambitions hardly reached the stars, but their lives were good for their simplicity. Better than a blood spilled for a cause to never be accomplished. There’s no mistake then that they were welcoming to the likes of dwarf Nastrada. Visionaries are hardly the sort they’d listen to, but a vision of utopia - a realm where men and women, all scions of the Four Brothers, could live in prosperous equality, and the once hateful and conflicted races would find a lasting peace brought to them in mutual understanding and diligent toils. As much of a daydream as it may be, it was and is only impossible for the disinterest of those who would benefit from it, and even in that, such a loving pursuit, an ideal of peace, was not easily disproved and quieted in the realm of Valkyria. The concepts permeated within the society, and had, in time, as the years went by, and another generation arisen, led to a renewed idea of Valkyria. Like a phoenix of cities, the kin of Sezarius dreamed of a place to welcome all those willing to accept and share that mutual creed without being forced to abandon what ideas and beliefs made them who they were. A bastion for civilization, whatever it may be for those keen to glare down upon it. Valkyria.
Valkyrians are, as far as livelihood goes, simple folks. There is little need for vanity among them - no matter the culture among the myriad that settled in their borders, they were all survivors, willing to recycle and scrap and scavenge, sometimes forced to, as a matter of making their lives at least slightly more comfortable. Where the rolling fields of Lorraine may breed calm hearts and passionate minds, a Valkyrian, no matter his kith, prides him or herself in a cold head and a cold heart. They think before they act and act practically, working together towards the greater good of their society, and largely shying away from pointless errands of knights and ladies. That hardly means that they’re inhospitable, however. Any home isn’t just a shell to shelter their families from the winds and the rains, a home is a safe keep built around it’s epicenter, a hearth, where their kin gathers for storytelling and riddles, for a loving word passed over the supper. They may, like so many other Descendants, look after each other first, but the definition of ‘ourselves’ tends to stretch as far as a Valkyrian wishes for it, encompassing their beloved friends and companions, or even venerable strangers, who had won their respect in some manner.
Clothing is hardly a matter of frivolity to the Valkyrians - with the weather enjoying it’s puckish and random nature, they tend to dress somewhere in the midst of the Highlander and Heartlander scale of clothing - thick coats of linen, with very few fur, satin or filk pieces are a common sight on the rainy days, easy to get into, and easier to dry after a walk in the damp farmland, and on the warmer days, simple, short-sleeved shirts and colorful leggings make appearance. Of course, it is also uncommon to see lads and lasses in fuller armour, even if most huntsmen and venturier prefer to be kept light on their legs and buy foreign-made cuirasses to place over the casual or journey clothing.
Valkyria, despite it’s weather, has invested much of the landscape into a solid agriculture, with efficient, irrigated fields spanning a good third of the realm. The produce of these keeps the citizens, generally well fed and healthy, if occasionally bored with the available meals, for which folks tend to make up with hunting. Huntsmanship is a rather popular pursuit in the city, and regardless of the varied cultures personal views on the subject, a hunter might make a fine share of money with the Hall, and often stands high in the society, as such professionals are all too often the first line of defense from threats that don’t come around with torches and bared steel. At the coastline, one can also easily spot the saltern, and a small number of roofed facilities, where at least a half of the county revenue is made, producing hoards of salt and occasional alchemical concoctions along with the fabled ‘deep wine’ - foul tasting, but shockingly, and often pleasantly, strong liqour brewed using the water purified from the saltern brine, and most commonly described by the locals as a ‘cross between draconic piss and vodka, and Creator knows which it tastes more like’. Valkyria boasts also a modest industry, with it’s foundry providing the county folk with most of their needed tools, and the huntsmen and watchmen with the sharper versions for their own, special duties. A typical Valkyrian meal is heavily grain-based, with boiled groats and rye, drowned in thick, pork gulasch ranking highly in the societal strata’s main courses, and with even the poorer sort being able to afford a sack of wheat to last them a season, often baking simple, round dumplings filled with whatever filling they could afford to make - oftentimes mashed potatoes and sour cream, fish or coast eel.
The locals of Valkyria are a varied bunch, and as such, tend to have divergent spins around the main ideal - but the mentioned center of their culture tends to stay concrete and singular. Their dedication to the dawnite tenets can be seen from the peaceful halflings to the adventurous venators, and throughout their society, these tend to stick and leave them sticking out of the crowd, a common thing to occur among the isolated colonies of the mainline cultures. First noteworthy thing is their belief in sanctity of Descendant life. While the city breeds adventurous and combatant souls like a tavern breeds drunks - loud, suicidally brave and spoiling for a fight - they’re rather determined not to slay when such an act can be avoided. A scionicide, intent or not, is almost always frowned upon outside of the battlefield, and with the full understanding that in this world, a limb lost is not exactly lost permanently, the use of weapons either blunt to break bone, or sharp to sever it, has become widespread and common, to ensure that, when pushed to self defense, the citizens can safely disarm (sometimes literally) the individuals threatening them and their families. If the Descendants are to unite, they like to say, then they first need to tame their wild instincts, their lust for blood wastefully spilled. Another, is the sense of solidarity and equality - while the count is the undisputed ruler of Valkyria, he is never the only authority in that reign, and all of the adult citizens can, and often do, gather at the annual ting, an assembly of free men and women making the more legislative decisions about their society. This has often led to a humorous quip, that while the count reigns over his hall, each citizen is a baron within the fencing of his shack. In this ting they, too, swear oaths, seek counsel, and sometimes organize marriage or decide over the naming of newborn. Whereas a man in the far cities may be a hermit in his own home, a child born in Valkyria is truly raised by the whole town. They fight and they work, and they drink together, and stand as united as the warbands of old, despite their differences. Facing the common enemy and seeking a common future tends to do that to Descendant-kind.
Sezarius, Tai en Valkyr (Count, founder of Valkyria.)
Quil Noresca - Marshall (Martial leader and field commandant.)
Artemis - Archmage (Advisor in arcane matters, a voice for the city mages.)
Fjordin Sylver - Steward (Administration of infrastructure and law.)
Kimarai Nastrada - Hearthkeeper (Administration of internal relations and the court.)
Salazar Grimsby - Grand Researcher (What it says on the can.)