In publishing these accounts, I certainly will not attempt to recreate the work of the great Rocarian Chronicler of the time, a mysterious monk known only as Brother Godfrey of Metz, whose stunning narrative and even-handed approach to history easily surpasses all of his contemporaries. However, I will attempt to provide, in these posts, a glimpse into the Rocarian world, and the lives of the great men--and great women--who made it what it once was. I shall endeavour to make use of what new source materials come to me through my continued research, and I certainly hope, dear reader, that you will enjoy this account of the Rocarian Empire at its zenith.
Here follows my translation of the work of said monk. I only pray I have done it justice.
I, Brother Godfrey of Metz, scribe to Bishop Gerard of Othinar, shall now describe to you the empire in which we live. This is done at the behest of His sovereign majesty King Bohemund, the fourth so named, but by the decision of the holy bishop. It is to His Majesty that I dedicate this and the larger work into which it shall be included.
The Rocarian Empire, as it stands in this day, stretches for five hundred miles in length from the Vetland Sea in the North to the Southern range of The Llandos Mountains in the South, and for two thousand miles in breadth from the Llandos Mountains in the East to the Endless Ocean to the West. It is rich in all things which are necessary for men to thrive. Its plains and grasslands are full of tillable land and fertile soil, perfect for growing and grazing alike. Its majestic mountains and windswept foothills yield minerals and ore--not in plenty, but sufficient to provide for the needs of men. Its rivers are full of fish. Its dark forests, while full of wolves, bandits, and Vengar alone knows what else, are full of deer and other game, and yield fantastic amounts of timber, and even the odd bit of fruit.
The Rocarian Empire is peopled by three groups: The High Rocarians who populate the area from the Endless Ocean to the Green River, the Low Rocarians who inhabit the lands from the Green to the (name), and the distinctly different East Rocarians, whose kingdom, Rhosmawr, was added to the Empire by virtue of its strength in arms and justness of cause (So much for "even-handedness!"). Each of these peoples possesses their own dialect of Rocarian. The High Rocarians speak the dialect known as Othinarian, and the Low Rocarians speak a dialect known as Badens. The Easterners, on the other hand, speak a barbaric, yet strikingly musical, bastard dialect of Low Rocarian and their own ancient tongue.
The peoples are mostly united in religion, as most follow the one true faith of Vengar the Cosmic Blacksmith. There is a great community of monasteries scattered around the Kingdom. The Brethren are in charge of spreading the faith to the rest of the people, and overseeing the burgeoning wealth of the church. However, some places in East Rocaria are still taken to backsliding into their ancient tribal forms of worship, so the Brothers have quite a task ahead of them, keeping the souls of the heathens out of jeopardy.
It should be mentioned early on that the Eastern Rocarians, the men who inhabit the Grand Duchy of Rhosmawr, despite the seemingly disparaging nature of my words, are not altogether backward. They are fanatically brave when roused to action, forthright in their dealings, and productive, given to mining well the tin and copper which exists in abundance in the southern reaches of their hilly homeland. Furthermore, though it was not without great bloodshed and sorrow that they finally submitted to rule by the Rocarian crown, they have done so with all of the grace of a proud people.
In the past, the Kings of Rocaria were not actually kings, but a confederation of tribal rulers, who warred with each other for centuries until raising themselves from their backwardness. They did so by crowning the first Rocarian King. He was a -
(fragment of unknown size missing)
- crown is the same one worn by the kings of Rocaria today, generations later. He and his successors turned the tribal lands into the duchies we know today. They were named for the eight clans who ruled them - I will translate them from the ancient tongues: Othinar, Valtimon, Argote, Beaumonte, Marechal, Valkenburg, Baden, and Grensmark. It is these, and the realm to the East, which we will discuss in the next chapter.
Here follows my translation of the work of said monk. I only pray I have done it justice.
I, Brother Godfrey of Metz, scribe to Bishop Gerard of Othinar, shall now describe to you the empire in which we live. This is done at the behest of His sovereign majesty King Bohemund, the fourth so named, but by the decision of the holy bishop. It is to His Majesty that I dedicate this and the larger work into which it shall be included.
The Rocarian Empire, as it stands in this day, stretches for five hundred miles in length from the Vetland Sea in the North to the Southern range of The Llandos Mountains in the South, and for two thousand miles in breadth from the Llandos Mountains in the East to the Endless Ocean to the West. It is rich in all things which are necessary for men to thrive. Its plains and grasslands are full of tillable land and fertile soil, perfect for growing and grazing alike. Its majestic mountains and windswept foothills yield minerals and ore--not in plenty, but sufficient to provide for the needs of men. Its rivers are full of fish. Its dark forests, while full of wolves, bandits, and Vengar alone knows what else, are full of deer and other game, and yield fantastic amounts of timber, and even the odd bit of fruit.
The Rocarian Empire is peopled by three groups: The High Rocarians who populate the area from the Endless Ocean to the Green River, the Low Rocarians who inhabit the lands from the Green to the (name), and the distinctly different East Rocarians, whose kingdom, Rhosmawr, was added to the Empire by virtue of its strength in arms and justness of cause (So much for "even-handedness!"). Each of these peoples possesses their own dialect of Rocarian. The High Rocarians speak the dialect known as Othinarian, and the Low Rocarians speak a dialect known as Badens. The Easterners, on the other hand, speak a barbaric, yet strikingly musical, bastard dialect of Low Rocarian and their own ancient tongue.
The peoples are mostly united in religion, as most follow the one true faith of Vengar the Cosmic Blacksmith. There is a great community of monasteries scattered around the Kingdom. The Brethren are in charge of spreading the faith to the rest of the people, and overseeing the burgeoning wealth of the church. However, some places in East Rocaria are still taken to backsliding into their ancient tribal forms of worship, so the Brothers have quite a task ahead of them, keeping the souls of the heathens out of jeopardy.
It should be mentioned early on that the Eastern Rocarians, the men who inhabit the Grand Duchy of Rhosmawr, despite the seemingly disparaging nature of my words, are not altogether backward. They are fanatically brave when roused to action, forthright in their dealings, and productive, given to mining well the tin and copper which exists in abundance in the southern reaches of their hilly homeland. Furthermore, though it was not without great bloodshed and sorrow that they finally submitted to rule by the Rocarian crown, they have done so with all of the grace of a proud people.
In the past, the Kings of Rocaria were not actually kings, but a confederation of tribal rulers, who warred with each other for centuries until raising themselves from their backwardness. They did so by crowning the first Rocarian King. He was a -
(fragment of unknown size missing)
- crown is the same one worn by the kings of Rocaria today, generations later. He and his successors turned the tribal lands into the duchies we know today. They were named for the eight clans who ruled them - I will translate them from the ancient tongues: Othinar, Valtimon, Argote, Beaumonte, Marechal, Valkenburg, Baden, and Grensmark. It is these, and the realm to the East, which we will discuss in the next chapter.
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