Empire of Valeria
Legacy of the Chaos Dragon
image [https://i.imgur.com/JKPoRmP.png]
The history of the peoples who would later become the Empire of Valyrya (Valeria in western tongue) originate from the dry grasslands of the Everfree plains. These scattered tribes are often viewed as backwards barbarians who had been a thorn to much of the early civilizations. Each tribe had its own traditions, worshiped ancestral spirits, and revered crude statues. Violence was not just common but essential to survival, with warfare and raiding deeply ingrained in their way of life.
While they have nothing in common, their intensity and fierceness have earned them the name of ‘Sons of Maas,’ by the western peoples, a reference to their God of War.
Around 300 AD, an event known as the Age of Chaos started when a sinner in the west opened the Goddess Pandora’s box and unleashed unimaginable evils previously imprisoned within. One of these was the Chaos dragon Reyvrys, who will soon become synonymous with the era.
During this dark era, the skies blackened, monsters roamed freely, and ancient evils preyed on the weak and sowing terror across the land. The Chaos dragon’s immense form cutting through the clouds struck fear into the hearts of the tribes. Seeking protection—or at least to avoid his wrath—the tribes abandoned their ancestral gods and turned their worship to Reyvrys, hoping to appease him.
Reyvrys, sensing their devotion, did not destroy them. Instead, he descended from the heavens and recruited the tribes to serve as his army, transforming them from warring clans into a force bound by loyalty to the great dragon. Under his rule, these tribes were forged into the first semblance of a united identity, a people loyal not to bloodlines or kings, but to the will of the Chaos Dragon.
As his influence spread, Reyvrys unified more tribes under his banner, raising an army powerful enough to challenge the western kingdoms. His goal was to destroy the Court of Gaia, the God of Life, her sons, daughters, and her worshippers. One by one, cities fell as the Chaos army swept through the west.
But Reyvrys’ triumph was not to last. At a decisive Battle at the Holy City, The Gods themselves descended and struck down the great dragon in a final, catastrophic clash. With their God slain, his army collapsed, retreating in disarray back to the eastern wilderness. The tribes splintered once more, and the threat to the west was extinguished. For a time.
With Reyvrys dead and their cause lost, many of the surviving tribes reverted to their old ways of bickering, raiding, and pursuing survival through strength. However, not all were content to return to barbarism. Senior officers and loyalists of Reyvrys, having tasted the power of unity, saw in their defeat an opportunity. If they could not serve a god, they would rule in his name. These warlords claimed to be the true successors of Reyvrys, each vying to establish dominance over the others.
In the immediate aftermath, tribalism became swept aside as ambitious leaders claimed the ‘Mandate of Chaos’ to rule in Reyvrys’ name.
This turbulent period, known as the Unification Wars, raged for over 200 years. Dozens of tribes, warlords, and fledgling kingdoms fought for supremacy, forging and breaking alliances in an endless cycle of conflict. During this time, the west launched a series of wars known as the crusades, successfully reclaiming lands previously lost to the Chaos army.
One of the most powerful factions to emerge was the Quadruple Alliance, a coalition of warlords who nearly succeeded in uniting the land under their rule. However, standing in their way was the Valeris family, who, like them, have formed an alliance of their own with them at its center.
Exhausted and ravaged by war, the two factions clashed near the city of Rayyes. Many historians would later call this as ‘the final battle,’ due to how decisive this battle was for Imperial history.
The Quadruple Alliance sought to establish a commonwealth of the Reyvrys lands, whilst the Valerians sought to unify all of the realm under their name.
After four months of fighting, sporadic truces, and military maneuvering, the Valeris Bloc managed to encircle and capture the leaders of the Quadruple Alliance, thus ending the unification wars.
With the Quadruple Alliance forced into submission, the Valeris family brokered a peace between the factions. The Treaty of Unification formally established Reyvrys' Empire, henceforth known as the Empire of Valeria as a union of seven powerful families or realms, each granted autonomy over their respective territories.
Though the throne is theoretically an elected position between the seven families, it was the Valeris family who kept succeeding the throne as First Among Equals. Over time, as wars were waged, the empire consolidated, and power centralized, the other great families’ influence greatly diminished.
Through a series of wars, both hard-won victories and bitter defeats, the Empire of Valeria has cemented its place as one of the premier great powers of the continent. However, its ambitious campaigns against the western kingdoms met with a costly end. The culmination of these conflicts was the empire’s defeat and expulsion from Rozafyr, one of the original realms of the Seven Families. The loss of Rozafyr marked a turning point for Valeria. Overextended, exhausted, and facing mounting unrest at home, the then Emperor realized the limits of conquest.
Since that defeat, the empire has abandoned territorial expansion and focused inward. Overextension, both militarily and administratively, had drained the state of its vitality. Though the imperial banners once flew proudly over foreign cities, the Emperor concluded that the costs of occupation far outweighed the benefits. The empire reoriented itself toward consolidating power on the continent, focusing on maintaining internal stability and preserving its influence over the realms and tens of millions of population under its dominion.
While Valeria's military campaigns once defined its ambition, the empire chose to forego participation in the conquest of the New World. Other powers—kingdoms and merchant leagues from the west—led the charge into the newly discovered territories beyond the seas. It has gone as far as instituting isolation from the rest of the continent, aside from limited trading with high tariffs. This decision solidified Valeria’s image as a reclusive giant, focused inward while the rest of the world changed.
Nevertheless, Valeria remains seated on the throne of empires within the continent of Gaias, unmatched in influence and prestige. Few nations dare challenge its authority directly. Yet beneath the grandeur lies the wear and tear of an ancient behemoth, whose foundations have eroded after centuries of stagnation. Old traditions, outdated institutions, and decaying political structures have kept the empire from evolving with the times.
The noble class has dwindled in both relevance and wealth, eclipsed by a new class of industrialists. These rising businessmen now hold economic power, yet the imperial bureaucracy struggles to accommodate the changing social order. Adding to this turmoil is the crippling absolutism of the emperor, whose obsession with personal power stifled meaningful reform. For decades, the empire has been paralyzed by the endless tug-of-war between the central government, provincial governments, conservative aristocrats, and progressive reformists, leaving critical issues unresolved and reforms deadlocked.
However, that too, has changed. For better or for worse, the Chaos Dragon may soon awaken from its long slumber.
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The Western Kingdoms
Of men and the divine
In the beginning, the Goddess Gaia shaped the cosmos—bringing forth the sky, the earth, and the stars. As she crafted the world, Gaia breathed life into it with divine purpose, but the world was vast, and even the will of a goddess required stewards. Thus, she created three apostles to govern in her name:
Terra, Apostle of the Earth, guardian of the land, fertility, and nature's bounty.
Luna, Apostle of the Night and Moon, who governs dreams, tides, and the mysteries of the unseen.
Sol, Apostle of the Day and Sun, keeper of light, harvest, and celestial order.
Together, the Apostles managed the world’s balance, their divine presence sustaining the harmony between heaven and earth in Gaia's absence. They bestow favor upon the faithful and punish those who disturbed the natural order. Yet, Gaia’s vision for the world included not just divine overseers but also mortal beings to inhabit her creation. From the earth and stars, she shaped mankind. Fragile yet ambitious creatures, destined to spread across the world and build civilizations in honor of their goddess. Many races were created, each with their own speciality–except one, who were made average across all metrics. Humanity.
In the early days, humans lived under the direct guidance of the Apostles. Terra taught them to cultivate the land, harvest its gifts, and respect nature’s cycles. Luna guided them through darkness, gifting dreams and omens, inspiring art, poetry, and superstition. Sol showed them the power of fire and light, leading them to forge tools, and build cities. Together, the Apostles shaped the foundations of the Western Kingdoms, each kingdom reflecting the teachings of one Apostle above the others.
As the human population grew and their settlements evolved into cities and kingdoms, the Apostles could no longer directly oversee every aspect of mortal life. To mediate the affairs of humanity and serve as a bridge between the divine and mortal realms, the Papacy was established. This institution ensured that no sect—whether dedicated to Terra, Luna, Sol, or other Gods—would dominate the others. Instead, the Pope would represent the collective interests of all sects, maintaining the balance between faiths and ensuring that Gaia’s teachings remained at the heart of governance and society.
Over time, the Papacy became a powerful institution, second only to the monarchs of the Western Kingdoms. It unified the kingdoms through shared religious festivals, laws, and doctrines, enforcing moral order while serving as a spiritual guide. The creation of the Council of Cardinals further ensured that the Apostles' teachings were upheld across all realms, allowing for mediation between the kingdoms and preventing wars born of religious rivalry.
For a time.
The stability created by the Papacy was not without cracks. As power shifted and the kingdoms grew more ambitious, the unity once maintained by faith and doctrine began to crack ever so slightly. Monarchs sought to assert greater independence from ecclesiastical oversight, and rising trade networks complicated the relationship between spiritual obligations and economic ambition. Still, for generations, the Western Kingdoms thrived under this delicate balance between faith and crown.
The Western Kingdoms came to embody a fusion of faith, tradition, wealth, and culture. At the heart of society was chivalry, a code that emphasized loyalty, honor, and service—not just to rulers, but to both faith and community. Knights became symbols of this ideal, celebrated for their bravery on the battlefield as well as their humility and charity. Many saw themselves as protectors of the weak, enforcing justice in the name of Gaia and her Apostles. Orders of knights arose across the kingdoms, some defending pilgrims and churches, others serving as elite royal guards or adventurers for hire.
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Beyond the battlefield, the Western Kingdoms were also a hub of intellectual and economic innovation. The birthplace of mercantilism, the kingdoms saw the rise of powerful merchant guilds that transformed trade across the continent. Wealth flowed through bustling markets and trade cities, empowering a new class of merchants, financiers, and craftsmen whose influence began to rival that of the nobility.
In comparison to other nations, the Western Kingdoms carved a unique identity. They lacked the warlike ambition and self-destructive tendencies of the Chaos Dragon’s Empire, the unparalleled innovation of the Dwarven realms, the scholarly prowess of the Elven kingdoms, and the formidable martial traditions of the Beastmen tribes. Instead, the west prioritized stability and wealth over rapid progress, fostering an environment where economic prosperity flourished. This cautious approach to growth ensured that the Western Kingdoms remained a center of power and wealth for centuries.
A key factor in the west’s resilience against conquest by more militaristic nations was their mastery and heavy reliance on Arcane warfare. The Western Kingdoms invested heavily in magical advancements, fielding battle-mages, enchanted weaponry, and sophisticated defensive wards that gave them an edge on the battlefield. Their expertise in Arcane warfare allowed them to secure crucial victories in their crusades against the Chaos Dragon’s Empire, reinforcing their dominance and safeguarding their territories.
The printing press was one of the most revolutionary inventions of the age, and also an entirely human invention, enabled the spread of ideas, scripture, and philosophy at unprecedented speed. Knowledge, once confined to monasteries and libraries, became accessible to commoners and nobles alike. Universities and academies flourished, drawing scholars from distant lands to study art, theology, and science.
Then, the Adventurers Guild emerged. Originally intended to protect merchants and travelers from bandits and monsters, it evolved into a prestigious institution that attracted wandering knights, explorers, and fortune-seekers. These adventurers helped chart new trade routes, uncover lost relics, and defend the realm from the occasional monster incursion—earning wealth and glory along the way.
Despite the outward appearance of prosperity, tensions simmered beneath the surface. The rise of mercantilism and a wealthy merchant class challenged the old feudal order, creating friction between nobles and merchants. The noble houses, deeply rooted in the ideals of chivalry and divine right, struggled to maintain their relevance as commerce and innovation shifted power into the hands of the rising bourgeoisie. Some nobles embraced the change, forming alliances with merchant leagues, while others clung stubbornly to outdated traditions.
Meanwhile, the Papacy’s grip on society began to weaken. The printing press, which had once served as a tool for spreading religious teachings, became a double-edged sword, spreading reformist ideas and criticism of the Church. Dissenters questioned the wealth and influence of the clergy, calling for a return to simpler, more humble forms of worship. These tensions gave rise to sectarian movements that, while initially small, began to spread rapidly across the kingdoms.
With the traditional order in flux, the Papacy and monarchs found themselves at odds. Some kings sought to assert greater independence from the Church, viewing the Council of Cardinals as a threat to their sovereignty. Others grew frustrated with the Church’s reluctance to embrace reform, arguing that faith should adapt to changing times.
Corruption seeped into every layer of governance. The Church, once seen as the moral compass of the west, was plagued by nepotism, bribery, and internal power struggles. Monarchs became increasingly absolutist, disregarding both the nobility and the Church as they pursued personal ambition and wealth. At the same time, the nobility distanced itself from the common people, indulging in decadence while failing to address the kingdom’s growing crises.
Religious wars erupted, ignited not by external threats but by disputes over sects and doctrine. Each kingdom sought to crown their own Pope, arguing over which interpretation of the faith was true and which monarch had the right to appoint spiritual leaders. What began as theological debate spiraled into bloody conflicts, further draining the strength and resources of the kingdoms. As armies turned on one another, the delicate balance that had once united the west shattered.
This internal disarray left the Western Kingdoms woefully unprepared for the greatest threat they had ever faced: the Daemon Horde. For centuries, adventurers and mercenaries had been enough to contain the occasional outbreak of monsters or rogue cults. Yet the Demons were unlike anything the kingdoms had encountered before—organized, relentless, and far more powerful than anticipated. Entire cities fell before the adventurers could react, and knightly orders found themselves overwhelmed on the front lines.
The Papacy’s pleas for unity and holy war came too late. By the time the kingdoms realized the gravity of the invasion, their armies had already been crippled by infighting and religious schisms.
But they are not yet lost.
Maybe, just maybe, the west needs a Hero to rally them, and perhaps, just perhaps, the idea of a united western kingdom isn’t too far-fetched.
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The Archonate of Chaos
An unbroken behemoth
The Archonate of Chaos serves as both the official state religion and a central institution within the Valerian Empire. It venerates the now-deceased Chaos Dragon, a divine progenitor, as its god and upholds the original doctrines and teachings attributed to this ancient primordial being. The Archonate mirrors the expansive bureaucracy of the Empire, its influence extending into every aspect of life, from governance to cultural traditions.
Unlike many religions, the Archonate recognizes the shared equality of both sexes, as women can serve in the Archonate as Clerics or Cardinals, and believes that equality can only be achieved by strength and strength alone.
The original teachings of the Chaos Dragon emphasize the doctrine of "Might Makes Right," a philosophy that underpins the Archonate's view of the world. In this belief system, power is the ultimate measure of worth. Anyone, regardless of their background, can rise to prominence, provided they possess the strength to fight for it
Over time, however, the definition of "power" has evolved. No longer solely focused on martial prowess, the concept of strength now encompasses a variety of domains, which included intellectual brilliance, mastery of the Arcane, and technical expertise. As the Empire expanded and became more complex, so too did the Archonate’s understanding of what constitutes power. The strong were no longer only those who could command armies or engage in physical combat; those who could command knowledge, wield magic, or manage bureaucracies were equally revered.
It was during this transformation that the Emperor, recognizing the need for a more sophisticated system of governance, established the Imperial Examinations, a meritocratic system designed to identify the most capable individuals to serve as civil servants across the Empire. Rooted in the Archonate’s belief that strength manifests in many forms, the Examinations became a cornerstone of imperial society, ensuring that only the most competent, whether they be scholars, strategists, or magicians, would rise to positions of power.
Although the Archonate stands at the center of Imperial theocracy, it has never been truly independent.
Its authority is intrinsically tied to the Sovereign of the Empire, who serves as both the head of state, government, and the supreme leader of the faith. By tradition and decree, the Sovereign holds the title of Archon, granting them the ultimate authority to interpret and, if necessary, amend the doctrines of the Archonate.
From its inception as an organized religion, the Archonate has been bound to the will of the throne. Its doctrines that glorify and legitimize the ruling royal family were elevated and propagandized, while more spiritual and introspective teachings were gradually suppressed and erased from common practice. Over time, the original tenets of reverence for Reyvrys, the Chaos Dragon, were overshadowed by a growing cult of the Imperial royal family. The Archonate became less a vessel of divine worship and more an instrument of imperial authority, its teachings reshaped to emphasize loyalty to the Sovereign as both divine representative and temporal ruler.
As observed by a Western Priest, “The peoples of what was once the Chaos Dragon’s faithful have been made into thralls of the throne. Where they once bowed to the divine, they now kneel to mortals who wear crowns and dare claim divinity, their prayers shaped to exalt the living rather than honor their God.”
While absolutism is not a foreign concept in the West, where nobles have historically banded together to challenge kings who overreach their authority, the form of absolutism within the Empire has evolved into something far more entrenched. Within a single lifetime, the Imperial royal family has solidified itself as the embodiment of the Empire. Their influence extends into every facet of society.
The transformation has been so comprehensive that the Empire’s very identity is inseparable from the royal family. To question the Sovereign is not merely to challenge a ruler but to commit an act of sacrilege, as the Sovereign is both temporal ruler and divine representative. The Archonate’s relentless promotion of the cult of the royal family ensures this perception is deeply ingrained in the populace, leaving little room for dissent or alternative interpretations of power.
However, such concentrated power has also created vulnerabilities. The royal family’s omnipresence means that any perceived failure—be it a military defeat, a natural disaster, or a significant economic downturn—can cast doubt on their divine mandate.
But even then, it would take more than a catastrophe to unseat the Sovereign of Chaos.
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The Court of Gaia
The Court of the Gods
If you were to ask a worshipper of Gaia, “Who do you worship?” they would likely reply, “Gaia, the Goddess of Life.” But ask them this: “Who is your apostle?” Their answer will reveal much about their beliefs.
If they name Sol, Luna, or Terra, they align with the mainstream doctrines of the Court of Gaia, a faith structured around the celestial triad of apostles who are said to embody Gaia’s will. These three figures—Sol, the Apostle of the Sun, Luna, the Apostle of the Moon, and Terra, the Apostle of the Earth—form the pillars of orthodoxy, their teachings revered and their authority unquestioned by most adherents.
However, if they name anyone outside this triad—be it Gaia’s sons or daughters, a demigod, or a forgotten apostle—they are part of the Revisionists, a collection of splinter sects that diverge from the mainstream faith. These sects often revere other Gods that the orthodox Court has deemed heretical or fringe.
But how can one worship a God or an apostle, yet still claiming to be worshipping Gaia?
The term “Court of Gaia” refers to the divine pantheon centered around Gaia, the Goddess of Life, and her celestial court of apostles and divine entities–her sons and daughters. This encompasses not only Gaia herself but also the entities that serve as extensions of her will and manifestations of her power. For the mainstream adherents, Sol, Luna, and Terra are the ultimate representatives of this divine hierarchy, embodying the sun, moon, and earth as Gaia’s most trusted apostles.
However, the Revisionists argue that Gaia’s court is far more expansive than what the orthodox teachings acknowledge. To them, Gaia’s divine essence flows through a myriad of beings—her sons and daughters, demigods born of her essence, and even forgotten apostles who once served her before the rise of the celestial triad. They claim that these figures are no less divine than Sol, Luna, and Terra, and that worshiping them is merely a different way of venerating Gaia herself.
Revisionists view the triad as an incomplete representation of Gaia’s will. They believe that the orthodox Court of Gaia suppresses the full spectrum of divine truth to maintain control over the faith and, by extension, the populace. In their eyes, Gaia’s life-giving essence is far too vast to be contained within three apostles. A few sects even claim that Gaia’s essence extends into rival gods, positioning her as the source of all divinity in the world.
To Revisionists, acknowledging these beings is not heretical but rather an expansion of Gaia’s worship. They see the mainstream faith’s exclusive focus on the triad as an arbitrary limitation, born more from political motives than spiritual truth.
The orthodox Court of Gaia staunchly opposes Revisionist beliefs, denouncing them as heretical distortions of the faith. To the orthodox clergy, Gaia’s will is clear: Sol, Luna, and Terra are her chosen apostles, and their guidance is sufficient for humanity’s spiritual needs. The Court’s leaders argue that the Revisionists dilute the purity of Gaia’s teachings by introducing conflicting doctrines and alternative deities.
The Papacy, established by Gaia herself, serves as the ultimate institution to represent humanity’s collective voice in worship and devotion. It is structured as a divine hierarchy with the Pope at its head, functioning as Gaia’s earthly representative and the spiritual leader of the faith. The Pope is chosen from among a Council of Cardinals, a body of high-ranking clerics who are regarded as paragons of spiritual wisdom and devotion.
… that may have been the case a decade ago. However times are changing.
The rise of absolutism and centuries of religious dogma, coupled with the silencing of critics, eventually led to a breaking point: the League Wars. These devastating conflicts, fueled by both theological and political divides, fractured the unity of the faith and left the Papacy’s authority hanging by a thread.
The first blow came in the form of Reformist ideas, sparked when a prominent cleric nailed 555 Theses to the door of a local church. In this manifesto, the cleric detailed the corruption and moral decay at the heart of the Papacy, exposing its indulgences, power grabs, and hypocrisy. What began as whispers of dissent quickly grew into a tidal wave of reformist fervor that swept across the lands, challenging the orthodoxy that had reigned for centuries.
Amid this turmoil, something unprecedented occurred. The Gods themselves, once active and vocal in guiding their mortal followers, seemed to withdraw. Perhaps consumed by their own celestial conflicts, they left humanity to fend for itself.
For the first time in recorded history, mortals faced an unsettling reality—Gaia’s silence.
This silence reverberated across the west, plunging it into division and strife. The once-unified faith splintered into two warring factions. The Orthodox League, staunch defenders of the Papacy and its traditional doctrines, and the Reformist League, a coalition advocating for sweeping changes to the faith’s structure and practices. For only the second time in the west’s turbulent history, its lands were drenched in blood as religious fervor ignited a devastating conflict.
Foreign military ideas, carried westward by mercenaries, adventurers, and foreign interference, reshaped the battlefield. The musket made its devastating debut, revolutionizing warfare and marking the end of the dominance of knightly orders.
Cannons became commonplace, tearing through fortifications that had stood for centuries. Infantry formations adapted to the new realities of ranged combat, with pike-and-shot tactics gaining prominence. Traditional cavalry charges, once the pride of western militaries, were rendered nearly obsolete by disciplined lines of musket fire.
The League Wars raged for decades, leaving a trail of devastation unmatched in western history. Entire regions were laid to waste, and millions perished as soldiers, civilians, and innocents caught in the maelstrom of ideologies and ambitions. By the time a fragile peace was finally brokered, over five million lives had been lost, with neither the Orthodox nor the Reformist League emerging as true victors.
As peace lingered precariously, the question remained: could the west unite against an external threat, or would it fall prey to the very divisions it had created?