The Kingdoms of Ariwn
“One stands before us in Durance. Speak thy name and testament.”
It is sometimes said that there are grudges between living kings and queens of Ariwn that predate the founding of any other realm in Catenys. This is not at all true. They are, strictly speaking, not living, as those immortals died and received their gift of eternal undeath from the Blood Patriarch a long, long time ago. The grudges, however, that much is exceedingly true. One can spend a lifetime trying to learn the cause of a truly ancient vendetta, only to discover in a passing comment that the reason a lord despises Umbros is because some Umbral noble nine centuries ago made the mistake of referring to his demesne as a ‘petty kingdom scarcely the size of a duchy’.
Ancient vampires, as a rule, are proud creatures.
Many in the other realms fear us, and not without cause. Not solely due to our ancients that might spend centuries plotting revenge for some slight that not a single living soul would ever remember. But they see in us a realm of predators. Of dhampir desperate to win approval of ancient rulers that may accidentally call them by the name of a great-grandparent. Of newly sired vampires, struggling to control their thirst and obey the laws of the Blood Patriarch. And most of all of the Lycan Clans, who are portrayed all too often as war-crazed ravagers, relentlessly seeking to win glory for the Fleshreaper.
Ariwn is not a realm overburdened with unity.
“Eternity is overfull of immortal mediocrities. Become a legend.”
In the ages since Arx was sealed, Ariwn became a popular destination for scholars hoping to speak to ancient beings who could provide answers to the many historical questions and invaluable firsthand accounts of events with no living witnesses. They were inevitably always greatly disappointed. Many ancients will claim that the never-seen Blood Patriarch has forbidden the elders from speaking about the circumstances around Ariwn’s founding, and there may even be some truth to that. But among both the born and created children of the elders, most strongly suspect that the real truth is that speaking of the past simply bores them.
The appetites of vampire and lycan alike are easily maintained by the willing herds, but the desire for entertainment in Ariwn is insatiable. For the Lycan, this means ever higher contests of glory seeking, and great hunts to war with Afflictions and the demonspawn within. For the children of the blood, this often means hoping to become Gifted, and slipping to Shroudwatch to start one’s Durance likely over the stern disapproval of an ancient being that detests change. For the elders, the desire to see something new in unchallenging frivolity makes Ariwn the most rewarding destination for bards, harlequins and mummers’ troupes in Catenys.
And if a jape should go too far and a jester winds up impaled upon one of the peaks of the Bloodrange, that is simply a reminder that one must know their audience.
“Even in the land of Night Unending, remember that the morrow is never promised.”
To the rulers of other realms, Ariwn presents a vexing puzzle. In theory the kingdoms formally possess a nominal highlord in the Blood Patriarch, but centuries may pass without even a single word from him, and even nobles of Ariwn that attempt a summons tend to vanish without a trace. In practice, this means that Ariwn is compromised of scores of independent petty kingdoms that are very loosely affiliated, lightly constrained by ancient treaties and traditions set down from its founding. The solution for most realms tends to be to pretend Ariwn simply does not exist, and conveniently forget that it is the eastern bulwark against the Deadlands that causes the dead to divert instead against Aythirmok.
With Ariwn’s veil of darkness over the land, the ancients have never shown any interest in expanding beyond those borders, and while there have been some significant wars over the centuries brought on by Lycan Clan expansion, Ariwn has stayed largely untouched for ages past. Which is exactly as the elders have liked it. The comparison was often made in Catenys between Arx and Ariwn, two unchanging bastions, one under an impenetrable shroud and one under a veil of darkness. There is a joke often told in Ariwn about its stasis, a grim humor among the younger vampires and dhampir who bemoan that they would never get to wear a crown from the ancients. ‘No need to fret, the elders will abdicate the moment the Shroud of Arx drops.’
The elders are no longer fond of that joke.
