Kingdom of Serira

**Serira**  is a kingdom of magic. Perhaps *the* kingdom of magic, and without a doubt the greatest of its kind to exist today. This fame was all but fated, by a rift to the Inner Planes enchanting the land below with countless riches and the refugees of elemental wars. Against all odds, and in some cases against their own wishes, genie overlords manage to live in fragile peace with each other, as well as their mortal kin.

An unlikely country such as this could only arise, and remain held together, by supernatural means. Everyone from the youngest toddler to the most senile elder understands how crucial magic is to Serira's continued survival. From the laws, through the cities, to the very lifeblood of their elemental masters, everything in Serira lives and dies by words of power held on a mage's lips.

Knowing full well the destruction of enough ley lines would harken the end of their civilization, the technological threat of the invaders galvanized the nation against their mutual enemy. The Kingdom blossoms in a new Silver Age, built upon the cooperation of its otherwise squabbling inhabitants. Forges roar, towers crackle with arcane might, ominous tribal chants foretell war, and priests beseech the gods for a swift, victorious end to the conflict. Their goal is to prosper, and survive.

Having learned a lesson from history, neighboring realms of this stirring giant watch its borders with caution. On the occasion its many disparate powers moved in unison, to achieve a shared goal, Serira proved to be a juggernaut, its armies unstoppable, its magics insurmountable, and its resources inexhaustible.

Landagamma may be mighty indeed. But when the forces of the elemental planes join together in their warcry, the continent will tremble.

## Histories

### The Fall of the Qurumi

As most other countries, the story of this one begins with the decline of another.

The ancient Qurumi Empire, once the greatest human nation to exist, in size when not in splendor, had fallen into infighting after many failed intrusions into the wildlands. Their people enjoyed aboundance in the riches of the earth, with ore and minerals aplenty to fuel their miliary might, and fielded vast, well-equipped armies - now, their mines were fought over by squabbling nobles and bandits.

How they could fail with such an economic backbone to support the war effort is not known. History tells us the Qurumi grew complacent, and blindly threw their soldiers away. But history is written by the winners, and the Qurumi lost; scholars can't be really sure.

From a mere period of upheaval, the Empire may have recovered(they were banally common). But just as the infighting reached its zenith, the Qurumi people found out the hard way \*why\* the land below them was so plentiful.

A connection to the Plane of Earth had trickled riches into the mineral veins for many centuries, it turns out, with the primitive magic users in the empire none the wiser. Then, on that day, the weakened planar barrier had finally buckled over, unleashing not just the earth elementals, but every other Inner Plane's inhabitants on the squabbling humans.

### The Genie Fiefs

Jinn above all saw an opportunity, of a kingdom filled with riches and lavish palaces already built for them to take over.

What shape this took changed with the climate the new masters desired. The djinn were largely content to carve their own domains where no one else had built theirs, but with all the conflict around them, they responded to even accidental intrusion with suspicion. Marids were less kind, squabbling over the sea with little concern for who before them inhabited the land beside it. Efreeti drafted captives into their armies if they were lucky, and in chains if they were not. Finally, the shaitans promised protection from the chaos, in exchange for the small price of lifelong servitude.

This period of warring jinn fiefdoms lasted several decades, and the human population was decimated.

Some of their land, especially the mountainous areas, had been granted to the dwarves, who traveled far from their original homes under the wildlands to work in the famous Qurumi mines. With an eager and competent labor force on their doorstep itching to work, geniekind welcomed the leaders of the clans. Negotiations could grow heated, but never came to blows, and by the standards of both parties, the differences, and the dwarves, were settled remarkably quickly.

Other places fell into destitution. Farmland burned or left fallow, towns left for roaming bands of stray dogs and wildland monsters. All out of sight of the new leadership, who occupied themselves by warring among one another.

To the jinn, their affairs were little more than a continuation of their old way of life, but against people powerless to resist when push came to shove. This emboldened them, and blinded them to the damage. In a few years, they brought their business as usual, an extension of their homes, to the continent, oblivious to how jarring it was to the natives.

The people resisted their rule with renewed intensity as this ignorance became untenable. In turn, the jinn, convinced of their superiority, had come to believe humans are rebellious by nature and stamped down even harder to keep the peace.

Total obliteration was prevented by the jann, of all people. Though they arrived in mass along with everybody else, they were used to the material plane by their nature, and spread into the uninhabited, arid deserts within the empire's borders and beyond. True to form, they were unconcerned with what their kin were doing within, and angered when dragged into their troubles.
Still, on the rare occasion they saw fit to visit, the ever vigilant janni guest corrected misconceptions of mortal nature their cousins held. The other jinn respected the word of relatives far more than those of the humans they've dispiritedly served as advocates.

For the first years after the fiefdoms came to be, the occassional janni word of caution kept all that was once the Qurumi from being wiped away in elemental fury.

### The Kin's Mercy

*The door opened to heavy air, the acidic smell of vomit, and oppressive silence. The only light was coming from within the young man's flaming hair. In his hand, he held the lifeless pair of another.*

*The Malik of these northern reaches gave a few more moments to his son. The palace built for the comfort of his prodigious size, the doorway he leaned against was taller than three sons. But size wasn't what impressed him, nor his bloodline. This boy was borne from one of countless one night stands and concubines. They produced many, and most were no different than his other servants. But this one, he had ambition. The manners to ask for the means to grasp it. The will to set the world aflame and get it.*

*And so he waited, a few more moments. Before his thin patience ran out.*

'Is it over yet?' *The Malik spoke swiftly and with disdain.*

'Yes. It is done. She passed.' *His son placed the hand of the old woman back on her chest.*

'Finally!' *Throwing his hands in the air, he lets out a tremendous sigh to display the long awaited release of his frustration.* 'Now come. The other commanders are drowning themselves in my best drinks! Waiting for you! And I'd like them sober enough to understand what my general has to say.' *The malik's rage ebbs as something goes his way for a change, and spreads his arm to show his son to the table.*

'You could have saved her, you know. Just spare the coin for the spell, and-'

'Enough! Enough of that. She took far too many years of your life as it is. What was it, three hundred, four?'

'Sixty-four. Sixty-four years.'

'Sixty-four years too long! It should have been as long as the night I spent to sire you! And not a moment more!'

'So you've always said. Fine. I'll have this war over before you know it.'

*The Malik smiled, and did so with pride.*

*The general, for his part, didn't quite mean it the way his liege understood. Loyalty to him, his father, hadn't wavered, no, but the undines he was supposed to cull the next day? They have made an offer, a profitable offer he found hard to refuse. And the sight of his dead mother, laying in her own waste, only galvanized his belief to the deal he struck.*

*He would see his new ambitions realized. As he always has. That's what his father liked in him.*

What ultimately ended this sorry cycle of oppression was the same endless appetite which drew the jinn to start it. They mated with humans, willing or not, and the oldest children borne of these couplings reached adulthood.

By the time they did, some already knew each other; meeting in secret, connected by a shared childhood of a captive, aging mortal parent and a haughty, distant, immortal one. The rest met on bloodless battlefields, each of them drafted into a fight they didn't want, nor had a stomach to begin. Instead, they unified under one goal: Humanity would be saved.

The resistance was remarkably well-organized. It had no name, in order to protect its members. In later years, it would come to be known as The Kins' Mercy. Sylphs served as its messengers; undines arranged for a wellspring of supplies; oreads would protect refugees and valuable resources; when anyone balked as the goal of the rebels began to form, ifrits met their price; and all of this often in plain sight of oblivious overlords, who suspected nothing. It was the first display of Serira's greatest asset neighbouring realms would learn to fear. When so many disparate forces join together, the results speak for themselves.

Jinn professed affection for their mortal offspring. Often, they were treated as one of their own(or at least useful pawns whose word was worth listening to, in the efreeti's case). They considered the possibility of betrayal, of course, but only in terms of infighting. The idea their offspring would turn on them to ally with the opposition was unthinkable to genies. The conspiracy took them completely by surprise...Even more suprising, the unified armies didn't turn their weapons on their former masters. The newly free mortals just walked away.

Only when their parents arrived in protest and bewilderment did the rebel leaders take a stance. With the support of thousands at their beck and call, and enough arrows, crossbows, spells and bombs trained on the nobility to make even the mightiest pasha blink, the genies were given only one option, under threat of death: Return to their palaces, and rule on the mortals' terms.

### Unification, the War of the Sights, and The Golden Age

Years of grueling negotiations followed the rebellion. Thankfully, the difficulty was in the sharpening one's tongue, not one's blade - for the most part.

As the Foundation was drafted and the dwarves could be finally swayed to sign something, only the sylphs and undines were left to present their terms. And one day, without prior warning or any fanfare, the Windswept delegation stepped into the Hall of Countenance, placed their Rules down for the consideration of the Jann lawmakers, declared it final, and left. It was ratified on the same day, and no one noticed. It was only days later undine nobility had got their hands on the document and realized what it meant: Slavery.

Treating people as chattel was abhorrent to the undines. Wasn't this exactly what they've fought against? The few Shorewise representatives who were approached would only smile meaningfully at desperate pleas before walking away.Suspecting foul play, they abhored diplomatic channels. Instead, they armed for war.

The Seawise forces counted on an uprising to rally behind their flag, just like before - perhaps even more fervent, more glorious, finally stomping out the forces of oppression once and for all.

This backfired *spectacularly*. Everyone allied with the sylphs instead - including the dwarves, who until this point rarely took sides. Seawise stockpiles went missing; their assets were frozen; and guards would stoically remove public speakers preaching the virtue of freedom to lukewarm crowds. Humans plead for the self-styled Chainbreakers to stop trying, before someone gets hurt.

In short: No, oppression isn't what the rest had fought against. Undines did. Every side had their own reasons, and they supported each other by necessity. By opposing the interests of the greater whole, the Seawise Lands set themselves up for failure.

The conflict became known as the War of the Sights, two months of short skirmishes culminating in a swift, clean ceasefire everyone respected. It was the shortest war in the Kingdom's history. Few people died.

Why remember it? It set the course, and laid down the Rules better than any explanation could. Peace was more important than unity. Unity was more important than freedom. Undines were popular, beloved even...but the character of this fledgling kingdom was cold, calculated cooperation. Not the lofty ideals of a safe and loving utopia.

The undines learned their lesson and got to work. It would take many years before their reputation was restored. But restored it was, and then chiseled to perfection: The Chainbreakers became the Chaingrippers, and took the matter into their own hands...by out-competing the slave trade. Chaigripper practices were - and remain - so ruthless, Efreeti remain impressed to this day.

This military arm of the Seawise Lands is the premier wielder of all Rules, bending them to their purpose, of keeping the elemental opposites from spiraling out of control. If slavery would not end, they would oversee it. If freedom was a commodity, they would provide it. And if anyone tried to tip the scales again, they will be the ones to keep the balance.

The undine not only marching in step, but leading the column, was the last push needed. The Kingdom of Serira became the greatest country the world has seen. The cost didn't matter.

People borne of strong elemental bloodlines are known to manifest certain traits. Years of the golden age passed by, the geniekin of Serira changed, in deviation from the norm. Undines and ifrits have mellowed out, as circumstance forced them to live close together and cooperate. Oreads and sylphs, in contrast, doubled down, finding solace from the chaos around them by becoming islands of tradition onto themselves.

### The Cycles

Once the wheels of industry began to roll, Serira never stagnated, per say. But its people tend to fall into a pattern.

During peacetime, the various provinces would inevitably compete with one another. These would never get too bad - the Chaingrippers would always make sure of that -, but that also means little is gained. Much ado about nothing turns the study of this long, impossibly long, period into mind numbing tedium.

Very occasionally, an outside threat would shake up the monotony, until it would be swatted aside, a few months later. Countries rose and fell, but Serira remained. Its neighbours come to see it as a lumbering giant, its dreams light and its steps heavy. Eventually, as military doctrine refined and enemies of all kinds lay defeated, the novelty of these incursions would wear off, too, until they would be seen as another part of the Cycles.

The repetition made recent history dull, and romanticized the distant past. Any child as young as three has a vague idea how the kingdom formed. Adults recite the founding ballads by heart. Barely anyone remembers what happened last century.

And so it has been.

Until...

### Landagamma

The arrival of invaders from the Dark Tapestry was little more than intellectual curiosity to the many, bored magic users who called the Kingdom home. The average person barely heard about it. At first.

Then the first of many leylines fell. And suddenly, in quick succession, a lot of very interesting things happened.

The land shook. Quakes caused untold damage. All over the world, creatures of magic fell suddenly and inexplicably ill. Seeking a cause in the underneath, magi found devastation: The planar tear, the path their ancestors took to their homeland, flickered.

Some magic left the world, and the voidborne were the ones who stole it.

The then-King of Serira, Yshir, a foul tempered half-janni arch-wizard, had burned capitals down for less. Blinded by his outrage, he flew by his lonesome, far past the skies, unleashing his rage on the mothership directly, tearing it into pieces. His magic flared, his voice thundered.

And then he died. Rather quickly, too. How embarrassing.

### The Moment of Doubt, and the Silver Age

At home, the death wail of the King stirred up the groggy giant to a terrible reality. Their enemy's powers were unknown, their reach grows with each passing day, and their victory would mean an end to all things magical. On that day, the Iranese knew terror. And...hope. Unity. A combination perhaps only possible in so contradictory and unlikely a country.

People were scared, yes, and they were rejuvenated by a shared enemy. To them, the conflict is about so much more than magic against technology. Serira does indeed rely on magic, too much of it for the country to survive its loss. But Landagamma, in many other ways, is still Serira's polar opposite. Landagamma tries to stamp out dissent, much like the genie fiefs once tried; Serira embraced and nurtured it. Landagamma regulates its trade; Serira is a runaway free market. Landagamma guarrantees freedoms to its people; but the lowest of Serira's slaves can look forward to a better life than the average tech miner. Landagamma aims to be uniform; Serira is diverse to the point of insanity. There would be war, yes, but not over petty grudges or who gets to control this or that mine in a country built atop a mineral paradise. No, this will be a war over ideology, and everyone found Landagamma's wanting.

The first existential threat the Kingdom faced in over a thousand years had breathed new life into the hearts of the Iranese.

The nobles didn't waste any time. It was decided Yshir's successor had to be chosen as soon as possible, lest the Andagammans take advantage of a headless state. They had done away with many formalities, at times dragging whatever clerics and stray dynasty members they could find by force just to pad the numbers.

The necessary spells cast, the planes consulted, and the results tallied, the choice fell upon... a fragile girl from a cadet house. The young Urum, nonplussed by noble life as she was, joined a holy order as a child, and lived in isolation until she was torn away from a monastery under protest, to partake in what she saw as a farce of an election. No one ever intended her to rule any land, much less the entire kingdom.

At any other time in history, with an incompetent primary heir on one end and fierce competitors on the other, Serira would have been ripe for a succession crisis. Everyone knew this the moment the heir was chosen. The Hall of Countenance fell dead silent.

But the strength of Serira's character shone through once again: The nobles, so often vying for dominance, realized a scramble for the throne would only make the situation worse. They unanimously threw their support behind the new queen, who, at that point, had little choice left in the matter.

The incident had ultimately turned out to be in the Kingdom's best interest: Technology had proven an unorthodox challenger, and many traditional spellcasters brought ruin upon themselves trying to combat it. The situation demanded a different brand of magic user, a specialist who could wrap their head around the odd ways of the new enemy. The fresh faced Queen Urum, who previously had little magic to call her own, was a perfect candidate to fill that void. Put through rigorous training by the best teachers the noble houses and the planes could offer her, she would become a mainstay of the continent's politics. The discipline of her lessons was much more to Urum's taste than the softening luxury of the throneroom, and she grew to enjoy her role, to the relief of a nobility who were previously afraid she might run off the moment their head was turned. Instead, she was molded, into a living, breathing weapon, with her enthusiastic approval.

This was twenty-some years ago. The damage of the earthquakes had been repaired. Fortresses were reinforced. The unseen eyes carried on the back of the wind bring home good tidings. The harvest by the sea is generous. Riches flow into the treasury.

Serira's neighbours have began to prepare. They know what the Landagammans have no way to know. They remember what comes next.

The giant is awake.

## Hierarchies

Succession in Serira is determined only in part by royal blood. When the throne becomes vacant, representatives from the clergy come together in the Underdark to contact the Inner Planes, which blessed the country so with its abundant resources. The elemental lords, jann and local deities alike can weigh in on the available candidates, until a member of the royal line is found who can represent them all.

### Structure

Though Serira is heir to an empire, and overwhelming in its scope, it claims only the prestige of a **kingdom**. Imperium would imply a ruler above rulers, and a genie would never let a mortal issue them orders, which a given **King** or **Queen** certainly can be. Instead, whomsoever sits on the Iranese throne is enshrined as a supreme advisor and lifelong friend in every jinn realm. The end result is much the same as an empire would be, but the path chosen to reach that result keeps geniekind placated.

Iranese territory has been divided up based on whatever its genie masters found felt most like their home. Marids claim the best ports and the most abundant lagoons - what land borders those areas have become the **Seawise Lands**. Djinni largely excused themselves from much of the conflict between their kin from the beginning, their homes placed in the direct path of terrible seasonal storms and strong, dominant winds. Today, we call these claims the **Windswept Shores**. The **Traderealms** are unforgivingly hot, and no one really envies them from the efreeti, who are immune to the burning sun. Shaitans, finally, had taken root in everything inland worthy of their perceived splendor, in contrast to their pragmatic oread offspring. A sprawling network of roads connect these two extremes to the rest of the kingdom, giving them their epithet, the **Traillands**.

As with any country of this size, the grip of the ruling body over the fringes is tenuous. Exceptions and endless layers of asterisks litter the political landscape. The Hart territory, Clauegrip, and the Republic are just some of the most prominent examples.

### Nobles

The titles and attitudes of the Iranese **nobility** follow jinn convention.  The most powerful of the genies are their Nobles, while their favored relatives are lesser nobility. What changes in Serira is the dynamic.

**Djinni Viziers** govern over the Windswept Shores. What that entails, and what else they might be doing, is hard to say. Since the sylphs rose to prominence, the Djinn houses maintained political silence. In many cases, the general public doesn't even know where they live.

They do show up of course, with much aplomb and fanfare, whenever it strikes their fancy to visit a market or a scholar, and add literature they find worthy to their collections. But the sylphs, responsible for their Vizier's exit, ensure its subtlety is in stark contrast to the entry, keeping prying eyes away from their secret lairs.

Through unofficial channels, djinn and their sylph offspring comprise Serira's intelligence services, offered both to nobles and to private citizens, as long as they ask nicely and pay handsomely. Little happens in the Kingdom without their knowing. Even less happens without their involvement.

**Efreet** nobles, called **Maliks**, rule in the Traderealms, where their ambitions are directed towards profit, the only means of acquiring power that doesn't upset the precarious balance in the kingdom. Furthermore, they willingly finance the institution of the monarchy. This is generally framed as a gift or tribute, though there is an unspoken expectation to operate freely in return.

With the kingdom's eyes averted, the efreeti conduct themselves with cutthroat efficiency in private, but a professional culture of showmanship and expert peddling has risen to dominance in public, to keep foreign traders comfortable and the vaults full of gold. The Traderealms' massive profit margins are more than sufficient to keep the Kingdom solvent, and as a result, the monarchy can afford not to issue taxes(though it retains the right).

**Marid Shahzadas** nominally rule, but as they are too busy with their usual squabbling to govern a people they never bothered to understand, much of the task is delegated to their more peaceably minded Undine offspring. Undine nobles, in turn, have the unenviable task of keeping the rest of the Seawise Lands free from the taint of war, while their parents inevitably turn on each other.

After centuries of careful political maneuvers, and the evacuation of a few human towns, Shahzada territories are in a safe distance from crucial industry. Despite the warring marid factions right in the neighborhood, Seawise Lands in undine hands are widely considered the best places to live among mortals. Their service to the crown is stability, and they are the undisputed masters of their art.

**Shaitan Pashas** cooperate closely with their oread offspring to keep the peace in their native Traillands and beyond. They maintain some distance between each other, though, for the sake of shaitan pride: Oreads tend to the surface of their shared home, while their forebears prefer to remain underground, in ostentatious palaces open to a precious few.

Rulership is likewise divided between the nobility. Pashas themselves (have their serfs) mine the riches from deep within the earth, the raw material for the Iranese war machine. Oread princes head hill forts scattered along Serira's roads, ever vigilant to protect the peaceful traveler, and punish intruders who would taint the land they hold so sacred.

**Janni Amirs**, taken as a group, want absolutely nothing to do with administration. Their political aim is their solitude, on their own terms. As such, they do not claim lands as their own. What lands they do own are gifted to them, done in order to settle disputes between other houses. This is such an ubiquitous practice that "Give it to the Jann" has become a metaphor for ceasefire.

When amirs do show up, they expect their word to be absolute. In return for this obedience, they remain in their hermitages for decades at a time, and paid a modest stipend, by noble standards in any case, while their governance is not required.

## Kingdom Laws

### The Foundation and its Rules

Serira's foremost governing body conducts itself according to a set of supreme laws, called the **Foundation**. Supreme, however, does not mean universal.

The Foundation is a massive living document, penned, amended and clarified further each day by reclusive janni lawmakers, who are trusted most to understand the needs and wants of all elemental, and mortal, peoples involved. The lawmakers then unfailingly (though sporadically) gather in the Iranese underdark every few decades to debate the finer points, avoiding coronation years whenever possible. These conclaves have been unfailingly polite, and so much as speaking out of turn excludes a participant from the discourse for the rest of the day.

In its mission, the Foundation serves flawlessly. But its mission is to glue together the ever growing intricacies of so many opposing forces working towards the same goal. While important, this service is also completely irrelevant to a peasant. Furthermore, it's written in whatever language the author felt best expressed a given idea at the time, often in obscure dialects, over countless years spent in isolation, with no one to proofread, or smack them upside the head for being obtuse. The end result is a convoluted mess of legalese most need magical assistance to even read, let alone understand.

With the Foundation so obscure, and ultimately pointless for the common man, ignorance of it is not only an excuse, but wholly expected. In its place, more banal, personal disputes are handled differently, by a set of guidelines curtly referred to as the **Rules**.

The Rules are simple, if somewhat poetic, written plainly, and scant take more than a few minutes to explain, allowing the nation to function without grinding down to a halt.

According to the Foundation, each race within the kingdom has the right to contribute as many Rules to the complete set as there are contributors. Currently, only four groups took advantage of this. Humans tried they hands at their own rules, but failed, while dwarves and suli remain uninterested in exercising the option to this day. Genies in general feel no mortal can tell them what to do, and they aren't wrong, but for peace's sake, they observe the Rules as a courtesy. Out of all genies, only the efreeti bothered to contribute, jointly with the ifrit.

By unwritten expectation, each race tends to prioritize its own Rules over those of others. The Traillands follow oread Laws; the Traderealms form loose conglomerates and wield the Tools as sparse business regulations; undine libertines have little difficulty obeying the Calls, Seawise or anywhere else; and finally, the elusive sylph keep score foremost by the Shorepacts. Never the less, every rule applies to everyone, everywhere - only the extent of a Rule's reach is determined by one's location.

### Laws of the Trail:

Oreads are fond of their routines and their lands. This fondness is far more personal than practical. The Laws of the Trail, bluntly named and bluntly kept, were put in place to protect the sanctity of their daily grind.

While their wording is grave, and that gravity is not overstated, at least not in oread minds, the Laws of the Trail are seen more as polite suggestions than hard and fast rules. The more fervent the Laws' keeper, the more rarely are they moved to dole out punishments.

In practice, the following are enforced only when blatant disregard or disrespect is shown for them. In other cases, prompt public shaming is considered a sufficient deterrent.

* **Travelers pass, trade flows, but the rocks are unmoving.**

Do not cajole, bribe, or force a guard to leave their post. Ask for help, never demand it.

* **Disturb not the earth above which you walk.**

Have all labor outside your land sanctioned, and leave everything else as you find it. Littering is frowned upon. Taking resources is worse. Taking stone, ore or minerals borders on sacrilege.

* **Whatever covers it, each doorway is solid stone.**

Always announce your presence before you enter a building. When you knock, wait for a reply. When you must enter post-haste, shout a warning.

* **The mountain doesn't break your back. Falling does.**

By far and at large, shaitans and oreads keep the peace in Serira. They are devoted to this duty, and they are hard to discourage from protecting your safety. Once and if you somehow manage, only the gods can help you.

### Calls of the Sea:

Undines, in unison, want the best for their own people. This was never in dispute. It did put the race's leaders in a difficult position when their set of Rules were drafted, becoming the last of the four to finalize theirs. Once they acknowledged other races of Serira as their own people, however, the path became clear, and they dedicated themselves to grant them the same freedoms they enjoy in undine towns ever since.

Rather than risk offense or force their views on anyone, the Calls of the Sea serves as a cap on how far can one take their own selfishness, while at the same time granting every citizen a modicum of safety and protection.

These laws of the undines - though 'Call' is the preferred title, law is more accurate - are by far the most popular with foreign travelers. It's also no coincidence most Iranese humans live where undines rule: The compassion, care and respect undines have shown to their people kept the Qurumi rebellions from spiraling out of control, before the sentiment of human independence faded into obscurity.

The Calls are short, succinct and easy to remember, by design. They are enforced with fervent devotion, by the undines themselves most of all.

* **Water is free.**

Never profit from water. Water is worth, at most, the cost of hauling it, and nothing more.

* **The waves are free.**

Everyone has a right to traverse the waterways in Serira. Every captain shall know by heart how many people fit aboard their ship, and allow just as many. Captains who seek their fortune carry precious cargo, not the highest bidder. Passage, when paid, is paid to maintain the vessel, and nothing more.

* **The heart is free.**

People do as they wilt, and they can change their mind as it pleases them. You have no duty beyond what you agreed to do. You are obliged to do only what you promise, and nothing more.

* **You are free.**

Restraint is not a privilege of the state. No one has the right to bind anyone. Depriving a person their freedom is always wrong - it is done, at best, to right greater wrongs. Chains are meant to keep others safe from a captive, and nothing more.

### Tools of the Trade:

The efreeti's ruthless contribution to the common law is popular within the Traderealms. Less so anywhere else. But wherever you are in Serira, they are observed, within reason, as their penners would tolerate no other way.

Primarily, the Tools are for the power hungry to wield against one another. Since an application any broader would cause riots in the streets, they exclusively apply to trade. This suits the Efreeti and their offspring just fine.

A perhaps surprising assumption of the Tools is the subordination to the Kingdom's sovereignty. In short, efreeti in Serira 'want' to be ruled. This raised some eyebrows in the past, but the purpose it serves revealed itself over time: By subjecting themselves to a nation they recognize, they opened the door to refugees, exiles and undesirables escaping the Plane of Fire, which many of them already were. In this way, Serira became a safe haven from the wrath of their old enemies, so long as the kingdom remains strong enough to repel them.

While the Tools are harsh, they are also fair(ifrit find "buyer beware" a disgusting notion - they are also buyers after all), and one can easily live their life without ever being entangled with them. On the other hand, ambitious folk - like adventurers - are advised to heed them well, or before long, an efreet may come to collect the debts they are owed.

* **Every coin is forged in fire.**

At the heart of sustainable profit is confict. If you want no competition, kill the competition. If you are not able to kill them, get used to competing.

* **Sell the goods, hoard the cash.**

Storage is an expense. Food is perishable. A diamond is a shiny rock. Fill your vaults with legal tender. Sell everything for what it's worth. If the price isn't worth your time, the price of something else will be.

* **Stay fair. Stay honest. Stay rich.**

Cons exposed can be taken to court, but an honest deal cannot be reversed. If your endeavors wound another party, compensate them justly. Compensation can take many forms. Once you have their money, never give it back.

* **Flame burns. Keep your distance.**

Whatever goes on in the world around you, follow the money. Don't change the course of history. Peace and war alike are profitable. Warmongering in peacetime, and peacekeeping in wartime costs you your profits, and earns you only enemies in return. Put a crown on a puppet's head to stuff your pockets, and we will follow the money to you.

### Pacts from the Shore:

Shortened in common parlance to just the Shorepacts, the sylph rules are framed as an agreement between themselves and the other residents of the Kingdom - Others allow them to live on their lands on their terms, and the sylphs grant them the same courtesy in turn. Their four additions to the sixteen are the most blatantly selfish in their premise("keep out, or we will spy on you"). That said, they provide the general population with something crucial: Privacy.

The sylph use of the pacts in keeping all their endeavors to themselves is viewed with suspicion. Still, most everyone agrees the country as it exists today would be untenable without them. Shaitans and efreeti would never give up on slavery; humans want their homes unmolested; dwarves want to maintain their clan traditions without the prying eyes of those deemed unworthy; and while undines have something to say about all the above, they realized the hard way how quickly public opinion would turn against them, were they to oppose it.

Curious to some, the Pacts were changed to be broader right after an end's been put to that conflict, and suspiciously quickly. Almost as if the sylph knew exactly how undines would react, and used their dissent as an excuse to tighten their grip...

* **All have a right to secrets. Secrets are always right.**

Neither private citizenry nor any government body can pry into people's personal affairs. Public spaces are under as much, or as little, scrutiny as preferred, but homes are kept to their owners, by their owners. Anything done in the privacy of home is assumed legal, until evidence exists to the contrary.

* **The answer is no. Take no for an answer.**

No one has an obligation to tell anyone anything. Forced to speak, all can tell lies without repercussion. Forced to speak the truth, all can stay silent.

* **Save your own hide. When you can't, just hide.**

The citizenry are under no obligation to protect the interests of a greater whole. None shall be drafted, and none shall be shamed for looking out for themselves. In war, there is no desertion, only self-preservation. Likewise, protection is a privilege, not a guarantee. Any citizen has a right to protect themselves when the privilege is out of reach.

* **You can think you know, but you can't know what we think.**

The foremost authority on what someone thinks is the person doing the thinking. Predictions, suspicions, guts, or divinations do not know better. All are entitled to these tools, but the final word is the thinker's. Clear people's minds of intrusion to hear thoughts shared freely. Those who pry are the intruders.

### The Natures of Man(defunct):

Originally envisioned to be a counterpart to the firm, definite rules placed upon the kingdom by the elemental races, a short, succinct summation of human nature. This was a terrible idea, of course: Being varied, adaptable and tenacious is what makes a human, and no one large group of humans could agree on what a summation of humanity could actually mean.

The conflict between dissenting voices held the Republic back for many years, and nixed any chance of their authority spreading past its borders. It didn't take long before even humans stopped taking them seriously. Short-lived, but rewritten several dozen times under that short time, the so called 'Natures of Man' are largely considered an embarrassment, and a penultimate nail in the coffin for Qurumi revivals.

Over the centuries, humans as a whole have come to realize the error of forcing themselves into a neat little box - instead, they determined to adapt the laws of the land to their purpose, and the human race produced countless judges and lawmen since then. Now, nearly all magistrates in Serira are human, as are the public servants under them. When a dispute reaches a court, many humans will have a say in the outcome, and provides the race with a place in the balance of power it sorely required.

Today, the Natures of Man no longer refers to a legal term in common parlance. Instead, it is a statement of confidence in human variety, determination and ambition.

## Provinces

### Traderealms

**Freinalb**

When diplomats from Essen arrive, they are rushed past Freinalb's ports, lest they see how the money is made. The diplomats know, of course; but sight unseen, it's polite not to say. The Traderealm's Malikah - always a Malikah, chosen to please the very same matriarchal neighbor close by - watches over this posturing at a distance in amusement. She knows a new trade deal is coming, and finds another vault to fill.

Other vessels from the north can't afford to dock elsewhere. Diplomatic missions are supplied through magical means, at great expense. For anyone of lesser means, the nearest major port after Laufin is in Marnaqoure - past Tuev's raging winds, barren Duror, Parira's privateer watchdogs, Argov's complete apathy to maritime trade, Seval's impassable cliffs, and many, many more features of the landscape which get in the way -, countless miles away. There can be no sanctions, no embargoes, no protests. Freinalb does whatever it likes.

In Laufin, the Chaingrippers fight an uphill struggle against entrenched slaving rings. Further into the province's territory, as the control of the country at large slips. By the time one reaches the Malikah's palace, they are at her absolute mercy.

Local maps show no major road leading out of the port. Those not in the know often assume this to be a mistake, and some "correct" the oversight. Cartographers who come see it for themselves are surprised to learn there isn't one; much of the wilderness around Laufin is immediately lethal to all but the most powerful magic users. Any highway built would be torn apart, haunted, or simply animate and walk away.

In its place, reinforced off-road caravans are packed full of Essen's goods, led by the best trackers money can hire, who guide the convoy away from danger. In case that fails, they are guarded by an elite force, often spearheaded by the Malikah herself, or her trusted champions. In exchange, she takes the lion's share of the profits.

All across the province, traders can exert control every aspect of life if they so choose; Tools of the Trade protect them from foreign interests, and each other, aside from the occasional hostile(and lethal) takeover.

While merchants and the nobility make a killing, life for the common folk is miserable. Guards and magistrates pay only the merest nod of respect to other Rules, often twisted into yet another tool of oppression by playing fast and loose with the wording. At such a vast distance away from any other power able to contest the local rule, people can turn to no one. Traveling gear and trail rations are sold at a markup the average family could never afford, making even escape difficult. The only way out is to take on the Tools for oneself, and become just as ruthless in the pursuit of one's betterment. Fall-from-grace stories of gentle souls, corrupted by the only solution they saw to their suffering, are told around campfires across the continent.

Freinalb's provincial seat is Zaierrin, an opulent market enriched by exotic goods from the borderlands, and the back-breaking labor of the oppressed. An open slave market operates here, the last of its kind in the kingdom and a mark of shame for all Chaingrippers, where even Iranese are bought and sold with impunity.

### Traillands

**Argov**

A spacious forest growing out of poor, rocky soil, Argov has no natural resources. Neither the old Qurumi emperors or the current nobility ever held interest in it. This made it the perfect destination for certain oreads who found the growing hustle and bustle of Serira tiresome. Slowly but surely, a trickle of settlers arrived to build a life for themselves.

Today, sparse homesteads at polite distance from each other dot the surface, away from the noise of cities or the demands of shaitan progenitors. They are connected by narrow, packed dirt pathways, traversed by animals more often than by people. Forts guarding the single length of paved road, to Parid's Cape, are held by disgraced oread princes with nowhere else to go.

The rest of the locals derive quiet satisfaction from their self-sufficiency. Trade between them, or with the outside world, is minimal.

Argov has a provincial capital of the same name. It houses the bare minimum of a government body required to fulfill that purpose, and its single office barely does anything on a busy day. The town of Argov is otherwise identical to every other local settlement, quiet and unassuming. Many maps don't even bother showing it.

### Windswept Shores

**Duror**

Claimed by sylph far and wide to be the shining gem of the Seriran kingdom, no visitor can bask in this supposed splendor.

Far as land-dwellers can tell, civilization in Duror consists of a packed dirt road, crossing its length from north to south. It stops nowhere save for a few campsites, all of which are empty for most of the year.

Air elementals, sometimes seen flying over the land route, do live here, as do their descendants, or at least seem to. Supposed Duroran residents arrive in neighbouring provinces for trade from Duror's general direction, and leave the same way they came.

Both groups declare their homeland peerless, brushing aside voices of doubt with casual confidence. Since the sylph often give conflicting accounts as to why Duror is such an exceptional place, and no one has ever seen so much as a house, others in the kingdom often wonder if the wild claims are just a convoluted in-joke the capricious inhabitants tell to amuse themselves, at everyone else's expense. Someone does maintain the road and pays the taxes, however, which calls the idea into question.

Duror is purported to have a provincial seat, but aside of the locals, no one is quite sure where it is, if it even exists.

**Treidor**

On the sprawling delta of three rivers, Treidor's two cities rise above the waves of frequent floods on magnificent, ornate platforms. Rumors are abound as to what keeps them aloft. Some say they float on water and move slightly with each flood, while yet others tell of concrete supports that reach underground until they hit stable rock, below the ocean floor. In a fashion typical of Iranese sylph, the local leadership is not keen to share specifics.

A significant undine minority lives here, at the lower reaches of these spires. As their tradition dictates, towns in Treidor kept their old, Qurumi names, but little of the original structures from that time remain.

However the feat was achieved, the city platforms of Lugripie and Agripie act as barriers for the lands past them from the crashing waves. Their maintenance is handled by a small army of magicians in the province's employ. This necessity made Treidor's magic academies famous in the country and beyond. Scholars of magic, architecture and the natural world alike hope to one day set foot in their halls and glean from the archmagi's knowledge.

The unprotected areas have had no permanent inhabitants for centuries. But easy access to powerful magic allows industry to thrive. Rice farming and aquaculture on a massive scale feed the growing population, while the dangerous mangrove forest south of the Pollen supplies fleets of mercantile and military vessels.

Treidor's provincial seat is Lugripie. Agripie is its main port, and a seasonally accessible road connects it to the Trail of Iron.

**Tuev**

A land the word Windswept truly does justice, this province becomes more arid, more inhospitable, the further one is from the sea. Water is in short supply - the brief, cool winter is the only time the western wind brings rain on its back. The dominant winds enter from the east, through the jagged mountains of Hart, stripping them of any moisture. The Skipper river has ran too sparse to traverse the full length of its own bed several times before.

Tuev is the homeland of the Iranese sylph commoner. The typical household is a solitary one, only occasionally large enough to support more than a single person. Architecture is varied, with buildings raised during different eras maintained routinely by its resident. Stone pathways chiseled smooth by wind erosion connect parts of these homesteads together. How close a home is built to a road depends, in part, on how confident a sylph is in their hiking skills. The aim is to have comfortable access to the rest of the world, without being an obligate member of it; for the most part, this works.

Other races live in rural communities along the length of the Bloat, and sell its water to sylph loners. This is strictly a sustenance economy: the Calls forbid one to charge more for water than the cost of hauling it. Some who take on this duty are church officials and other charitables. Others merely try to get by until - and if - they get the chance to escape poverty. Sylph culture rubbed off on other locals somewhat. Showing up uninvited is considered rude, with the sole exception of asking for directions.

The provincial seat, Windbend, is a microcosm of this arrangement. Built close together for the sake of practicality, a small town center huddled close together is surrounded by vast fringes of solitary habitation. The fringes' population is often transitory, by geniekin standards at least: Properties are made available for rent to sylphs who want to raise children, and usually return to the countryside once their offspring are all grown up. In the meantime, the youngling can socialize, satisfy their curiosity, while building an appetite for the promised isolation of the savanna. The process can take anywhere from sixteen to sixty-some years, depending on the child's race.

### Exceptions and Other Weirdness

**Asum Island**

The Island of Asum isn't exactly a traditional maritime paradise. A large portion of the landmass is a flood-prone saltwater marsh. Rough seas, strong winds and punishing winters keep it separated from the rest of the Kingdom... which is exactly what turns it into a paradise for some, after all.

The safety offered by its isolation had drawn settlers throughout history - what we call Aurovalle today had been inhabited since before the Qurumi empire. Today, the primary residents are a coalition of undine and sylph nobility, tired of fighting their parents and each other.

Other geniekin are also represented, though less so. This is in part since shaitans and efreeti keep a tighter ship over their family, but also because oreads and ifrits often like catering to their progenitors. The exceptions to the rule also often deviate far from the stereotypes of their race. As a result, Asum has a reputation as a quirky place in the Traderealms and the Traillands, where deviant and misunderstood cousins go, to escape the ire of disappointed patrons.

Just as expensive as it is fashionable, Asum is every bit like the noble estates on the mainland, but without the constant presence of arms and the threat of punishment by genie overlords. Sprawling mansions are protected by magic from the increment weather. Some of them house extensive staff. Other nobles prefer *unseen servants*.

The peace and prosperity draws some tourism, but it isn't really accessible to the average person. While everyone is technically allowed to live in Asum, property values are astronomical, preserving the island's image as a safe haven for the rich and privileged.

**Dwarven Clans**

The dwarven clans' relationship with the crown was solidified soon after the inception of the latter. Not too keen to risk sovereignty over their new acquisition, the genie masters didn't allow the dwarven clans to rule in the conventional sense. In the many centuries since then, as the nobility mellowed out, dwarves were often told they could negotiate a much better deal. But the clans remain adamant things are fine as they are.

"How things are" is a mixture of local autonomy and castle doctrine. Dwarven clans can claim no land of their own, but they can own *buildings*, so long as the residents are of a dwarven majority who submit to a clan's rule. Within these walls, dwarves follow their own laws, nearly identical to those they held before they ever set foot in Serira.

As the dwarves have no interest in altering the deal they've made after the fact, the jann have to pen laws while minding this outdated arrangement. The current workaround treats the dwarven clans as having the same legal standing as a province. To fulfill that definition, they are granted a provincial population, defined as every dwarf in the kingdom. But only while they are at home. And a territory... of one square foot, a piece of road cordoned off in Durnoval, on it an engraved granite marker announcing its contrived purpose to the world.

**Hart Territory**

The beating heart of the Seriran Kingdom itself, or so the saying goes: Vast, full of warmth, and devoid of any nuance or refinement.

Civilization fades out the farther one is from the coast. From autonomous city polities, through coalitions of lesser families, to tribal villages, the general goings on of the world beyond means less and less. Shamanism takes the place of more formal faiths; geniekin often rise to leadership positions still, but by right of magical aptitude rather than noble blood.

From the era of the Fiefs onward, there always have been people who looked upon squabbling provinces with scorn and derision. Having moved to the backwaters the genie fiefs left alone, they eke out a living on poor farmland, hide away in deep ravines, or traverse harsh deserts rather than deal with the mess genies created.

In the past, efreet profiteers had been drawn here on occasion after something of value was found(such as the copper veins at Calwand, circa 992 BR). These ventures were beaten back with such brutality by the de-civilized hordes that genies eventually realized no resource is worth the hassle.

Over time, as dust settled and borders were drawn, Hart became defined as the vast, northern region of Serira the government nominally controls, through to a loose web of allegiances to the throne built over many centuries with these many disparate groups.

Explorers who hope to experience or document rich and varied cultures here are generally going to be disappointed. The only cultural trapping shared by residents of Hart is "don't be an idiot". They take pride in the simple, frugal way of life they chose for themselves. This is done in part to avoid having anything contrived or artificial to argue about. Conflicts, when they happen, are over resources, or personal slights that die with the current generation.

While they are not offended by travelers on government business, or by organized religions, they will not move an inch to accommodate either. Visitors can follow the locals' ways, or they can get out.

**Parid's Cape**

Once part of neighboring, sleepy Argov, this peninsula was overrun by merchants turned pirate in during the Fiefdom era. Led by disenfranchised humans denied their family trade, and the black sheep of undine families denied their inheritance, an organized group of seafaring outlaws raided the same sea route they guard today.

While their numbers were few, and the power of genies great, several things allowed the pirates to prevail. First of all, no one among the nobility could find the pirate hideouts(In truth, they never docked in any particular place - the town bearing the Freehold's name was built years later). But more importantly, they couldn't because the pirates were more popular with the common folk who could have tipped them off than the leadership of that time ever was.

Once even the Argoviran oreads made peace with the presence of their new, rowdy neighbours, and openly declared the pirates may have the entire coastline for all they cared, Serira caved. In exchange for becoming the first real navy the kingdom possessed, their leaders were granted relative autonomy, and the right to the western coast, as the Freehold of Parid's Cape.

Today, the Freehold earns its keep through payment collected from merchant captains in exchange for safe passage from the pirates their ancestors used to be. Parid's Cape no longer allows criminal elements to dock, at least not explicitly, but an identity separating them from the rest of the country prevails to this day.

Some consider the Freehold part the Seawise Lands, with a unique relationship towards the crown. Its government served as a model for the Seawise administration of today, to be sure. But was, and always remained, proudly distinct from the others, a land free from the squabbles and prying eyes of nobles.

**The Republic**

In its official capacity, this area is called the Unified Townships of Caiecrin and Naraca. The Townships, or just the Republic, are names used in common parlance. Humans rule here, and the struggle through which they achieved this feat is surpassed only by their chest-beating.

Racial pride aside, no one can deny the Republic is a force to be reckoned with. Frequent, and remarkably well-organized military drills keep the population on their toes. Their army, if drafted, could rival that of three provinces put together(and that figure assumes the Shorepacts render any draft more of a polite suggestion than an obligation). These days, they also have the advantage of alliances, from both within and without. A token force of Runcash mercenaries is an ever present sight in Marnaqoure's propaganda, and a contract drafted many years in advance, ready to be signed, to hire many more is on public display.

Officials understate the internal conflict among the Townships themselves, but even so, one would have to be blind and deaf to miss the tensions ever present between the rivaling forces within. The namesake settlements are at an eternal standstill: Caiecrin's industry and population are crucial in keeping the base of power intact; Naraca has the support of other, smaller towns and control over key strategic points. Who was more important in the fight for self-governance, and who is more important today, is a pointless yet eternal debate, with the same trite arguments repeated over and over again. Peaceably minded youngsters often leave for the Seawise Lands to escape this cycle.

Locals have the least exposure to geniekin among all regions in the Kingdom, but in the absence of a gentle undine hand, cold pragmatism still opts for peace. After one too many times the Kingdom had to come to the Republic's aid - in exchange for yet another layer of allegiances to keep them in line, naturally -, rebel groups are systematically smothered by both local and federal forces.

The ruling class itself possesses, at worst, baseline competence at its role, and knows to request assistance from surrounding provinces whenever they are over their head... though these days, these agreements come with less strings attached, just to be safe. No one wants to be known as the Lord Major who signed over the last human stronghold to the genies.

## Other Kingdom information

### Alignment

**Kingdom Alignment:** True Neutral.

**Exceptions:**

* Ebeningen, Shilhelm: Lawful Neutral
* Freinalb: Neutral Evil
* Parid's Cape: Chaotic Neutral

### Languages

**Iranese**

A pidgin brought into being by a sudden mixture of elemental tongues, the local Qurum, Woss from the north, and Dwarven introduced by waves of migration, Iranese is convoluted enough to send any scholar's head into a tailspin.

It's written in the Dwarven script, and spoken with a curious combination of soft and belching sounds. Words are formed by combining existing ones and truncating the result, sometimes to the point where the new word is shorter than either of the originals.

While a pidgin, Iranese remains difficult to learn, perhaps because the elemental influences within it are diametrically opposed. It isn't a common language outside of Serira, but for any hope to navigate the Kingdom's more isolated areas, one has to learn either Iranese or Ignan.

**Woss**

The native tongue to the humans in the borderlands of Serira and Essen. Known for its compound words and harsh, pressing consonants. It often exchanges words with the related Iranese. After a few of these trades, where a shared word first came from can be hard to tell.

The Tradelands and many border towns take their names from Woss, as did Clauegrip for some flighty reason no one remembers anymore.

**Qurum**

The oldest human language still used on the continent, Qurum remains the mother tongue of many humans in southern Serira.  It stresses multiple syllables in a given word, and natives speak it especially ponderously, making it less suitable for the bustle of modern city life. Never the less, it endures, thanking its longevity to how hard Iranese can be as a second language.