An Examination
by Loremaster Council no. 1576
of Gerau Sa'adenit's
A History of Places
This book, which was only recently made available to the Council of Loremasters, is a detailed and mostly accurate, if unauthorized, examination of the kingdom and its relation to the southlands. It must be stressed that King Oruen commissioned this study without the knowledge or approval of this Council, and thus this History must be examined with great care and appropriate corrections submitted to the King with the greatest possible speed....
The kingdom and the southlands are generally considered completely separate entities from a political standpoint, and their interdependence is often overlooked. But even a brief examination shows that the one could not, throughout our shared history, have flourished without the other.
The southlands came first. That is undisputed. Civilization began in the once-fertile lands south of the Horn; in fact, oral history insists that once the entire southlands was as lush as Water's End, and not much higher in elevation. The abrupt rise into a mountain-high desert was due, according to various legends, to natural cataclysm, the anger of the gods at humanity's presumption, or an even stranger explanation involving an ancient race with godlike powers.
Whatever the cause, the changing land forced the tribal structure into closer and larger groups, and led directly to permanent settlements and the first towns. Dialects unified and merged, as did bloodlines long held separate; loremasters gather in great numbers to sort out frustrating questions over ancient genealogy when an important inheritance is at issue. . . .
The text of this thick book is notable for two things: one, its comprehensive nature, and two, the odd changes in the 'voice', as though it had actually been written by two separate people. The first is stiff and formal, as one would expect a highly educated noble to write; the second is rather more common. . .
Place-names in the kingdom sound simple, but a little digging reveals deep roots. The word “king”, for instance. The original word for “honored tribal leader/supreme authority” was Kaen (Kaena for females), and the northern kingdom, in the old books, is called Kaenoz. Those names have since shifted to our modern “king” and “kingdom”. Attempts to give the kingdom a proper name have run into strong resistance from the Northern Church and its followers, who believe that their founder, Wezel, should be in some way honored in the chosen name. Their suggestions have tended towards names like Wezeldom and Fourgodsland, and have generally been rejected out of hand; although Ninnic and Mezarak apparently worried the court deeply at one point by seriously considering making those names official. Fortunately, both men were easily distracted and the issue soon faded from their minds. . . .
The simplistic approach displayed in the above excerpt turns an important subject into near-mockery, a sharp contrast to the more learned approach of the first section. Repeated inquiries as to the true identity of the author or authors meet no answer from King Oruen or any of his court, staff, or scribes; whatever hand transcribed this entire volume, no doubt from a collection of notes, is not admitting to the act. . . .
As language changes, the origin of names is lost to all but the loremasters who dedicate their lives to preserving the past; but a better understanding of our beginnings is vital to a firm comprehension of our present, and furthers planning for the future. A word as simple as s'a, “honored woman”, can be traced back hundreds of years to the original saaera, a woman of status; likewise the masculine form, s'e, was once seere, which indicated not only an honored man but could, with a slightly different inflection, indicate that the subject possessed predictive powers. The implication that the ancients believed that women could not be seers is undeniable.
Place names proved as fluid: the mountain area known today as the Horn was, when initially settled by the teyanain, called the Teychek-haiz, “Horns of Justice”. As the teyanain became more insular and less involved with the general population, that name fell out of favor and was replaced with the more neutral “Horn”. The king's home city was once Iliaye-Ayrq, “Bright Triumph of Ayrq”, in reference to King Ayrq's astonishing achievement of pulling all the squabbling factions together into a relatively unified settlement; the fast-growing town's success as a port altered the name, over time, to “Bright Bay”. . . .
The author goes on, with a fair degree of accuracy, to detail the history behind every significant name in the southlands and the kingdom. This section is largely in the more formal voice, but now and again the common tone raises its head again. . . .
The names given on maps and the names used by ordinary people are often very different. The large swamp to the east of Bright Bay is a perfect example. Maps in the royal library assign the incredible name Optsch t'a Kella Wezel; literally, “The Wealth and Divinity of Wezel”. A shorter version, on less official maps, is Optakazel Swamp, which translates to “Madman's Swamp.” Some local commoners even call the area “Ugly Salt Swamp”, referring to its main export, a cloudy, lumpy grey salt which tastes exceptionally bitter and is for some reason in high demand at noble tables (under its official name of optschalz, or “rich man's salt”, rather than the common moniker of “ugly salt” or “madman's salt”, of course). . . .
There is a distinct and reprehensible slant to the overall History, in that the author or authors are clearly disposed against the Northern Church. Historians must needs remain neutral to accurately convey facts, and considering the many good works the Northern Church has to its name (one of the few names not traced in this volume, another example of bias) it is improper to base all perceptions on the recent difficult times.
