FrivYeti/RanavirHistory
Back to Ranavir
Ranavir was founded some fifty years ago by a Fair Folk nobleman who decided that he wished to understand how countries worked. Rather than doing this through observation, research, or any of that sort of boring way of dealing with Creation, he simply walked into the Borderlands and reshaped a giant chunk of the Wyld into an approximation of what he thought a kingdom was, put some roads in place, and glamoured surrounding villages into believing that it had always been there. He then settled back to rule his new fiefdom, filled with imaginary peoples and odd customs, deciding that this was just as good - if not better - as the real thing.
For decades, it continued in this way. The raksha settled into his role as tyrant, weaving rebellious movements to be crushed and heroes to fail at his feet. He invited other nobles to duel him for control of the city, defeating all comers. An unparalled master of Shaping, he even defeated a small group of Dragon-Blooded that tried to challenge him, turning the city against them and destroying them. Clearly, he thought, his nation was impregnable, and he studied the false people within it as though their actions could show him how true humanity interacted. And perhaps it could, for the people of Ranavir, in small ways, became more human as time went on, and less mechanical in their natures.
And then, in R.Y. 768, a Solar came to the nation.
His name was Glorious Bastion, and he was of the Dawn Caste. A powerful warrior, and one who didn't have the faintest idea of what he was walking towards. He lacked the sublime skill to recognize the Wyld. He could not realize that the nation he walked towards, with a small troop of soldiers, was not one that had existed before. He knew only that there was a Fair Folk here, and that Solars were supposed to fight Fair Folk. So he walked into Ranavir, and he declared war on its Tyrant. He knocked down the front door of the Tyrant's fortress, and stormed into his throne room. And there the Tyrant discovered that his Shapings slid off the Solar like water from a duck. Bastion killed him there, and his fortress collapsed around him, for it was a freehold consecrated to his power, and that power slid away to nothing as he died.
And as Bastion proclaimed the Tyrant destroyed, something changed in Ranavir. Exactly what would be hard to say, for there were no savants onhand to discuss it. But when the Fair Folk lord died, Ranavir slipped from the power of the Wyld and bound itself to the Loom of Fate. It became real. And as the people proclaimed Bastion their king, their souls sprang fully to life, a true city instead of the mockery that he had never known it to be.
And now, the sky is the limit.
