"Pillar In The Storm: Prologue" by Jacob Bowdin

Pillar In The Storm: Prologue

The lands of Isadar held dear one refuge. In a land of constant conflict such luxuries are sparse, some would venture to say non-existent.  This would be true, if it were not for the great island fortress known as The Pillar.  An entire island turned fortress, it truly was a sight to behold.  Reaching spires dotted the sheer walls of the city, it was impossible to see anything over the towering wall except more watchtowers in the interior.  On the inside, farms were laid out next to homes and shops, their ‘fields’ even spreading to the rooftops.  Cattle grazed in carefully tended walks of grass and trees next to roads and walking paths.  Walks and bridges of dressed stone reached from building to building, shadowing the soldiers and citizens that strolled the streets below.  It was a gem among the rough.

 The people of the Pillar called themselves The Chosen, for it was known that they descended from great men and woman who had once ruled the lands that surrounded the Pillar.  The Pillar itself was the last remnant of the fallen empire under The Chosen, who thought it was their duty to conquer in the name of their gods, to rid the world of chaos, and give the gifts of the civilization they had left to those unworthy to find it on their own.  It was said that once the empire had reached across the whole land, from the vast seas to the west and south, to the impassable mountains of the east, and even to the very edge of the ice lands of the north.  Such was said, but no one could truly remember it being so.  According to the tales, these lands had been in the hands of unruly barbarian tribes, constantly at war.  The fore bearers of their ancestors had been sent from across the Great Sea and landed with a mighty army to conquer the land and bring the light of order to the barbarians, an army mighty enough to quell the chaos that raged across the land.  Once the fighting subsided and those who would still resist retreated to the wilderness, civilization finally began.  Those of the barbarians who were captured were enslaved, for the good of all.  Their small villages were burned, scoured for any survivors.  Over the years, many great cities were built, filled with marvels to dazzle anyone and the people of these lands lived in un-told luxuries.  Temples were built and monuments rose to honor the gods, so the barbarians would not forget who had brought them this good fortune.  It was even said that every person had a voice in his or her rule; no one was left un-satisfied.  Such times were known as the Age of Light, for how could one not call such harmony anything but light.

Unfortunately, even in the presence of such light, there is darkness.  There were those who grew unsatisfied with the current conditions.  Such citizens began few-and-far between, but they soon grew to be many.  They were those who thought they should have more, that they were more important than the good of society, more important than the gods’ will.  Despite the gifts and generosity of the ruling class, the peasants, the lower class, began to resist any authority over them.  They even went so far as to argue for rights among the barbarian slaves!  Such was their sway that they soon grew powerful enough to attempt overthrowing the ruling body of their lands, freeing the barbarian captives, and plunging Isadar into civil war and anarchy abroad.  In the name of Kayos, The Warrior, the rebels and slaves fought to throw down those above them.

Even though Isadar was peaceful they had maintained armies.  There had always been fear that the barbarians may try to come out of the wilds and reclaim their lands.  Many were the skirmishes between loyalist troops and rebellious militia.  The only city to be spared at first was The Pillar.  It was said that all remained loyal and faithful there.  Much was the blood spilled on the once peaceful soil.  Over many years of grueling fighting, the loyal soldiers and citizens were finally beaten back.  Despite the advantage of their superior skill and weapons, the Loyalist Army was forced to retreat to the capital city, The Pillar.   The fighting was fierce, most of the cities lay in ruin and aflame, their marvels melting or crumbling as the rebels rooted out every loyal citizen that did not flee to the great island fortress.  The rebel armies eventually turned their efforts to the Pillar itself, and though they were legion, they lacked the power to take the city that lay across the great expanse of water between.

The people in the Pillar knew that they would be safe; safe until their supplies ran out and they were forced out into the waiting hordes.  Even the faithful began to wonder how the gods could forsake them so.  Their only hope was the naval ships that lay on the far edges of Isadar, on the coastal cities that lay at the feet of the Great Sea, which none has ever crossed since their ancestors arrived.  Some said it was nigh impossible now, though no one knew how exactly.

The naval crews and coastal cities were always isolated. They were the last to hear any news, and as such, had no knowledge of the treasonous mutiny that had befallen the interior cities. The marines and citizens of these cities were loyal to the heart. Unfortunately, the messages from the Pillar reached them at the same time parts of the army from the rebels did. Only a handful of the great naval vessels and the people they harbored reached the Pillar alive.  Most were swarmed under before they could leave the docks that housed them.  The rest that made it out of the harbor had to run a gauntlet down the River Aldar, the winding length of water that feed into the lake around The Pillar.  While the rebels lacked the weapons to bring down the ships, the constant attacks along the stretching miles of river wore even the sturdiest down.  Few made it. Fate looked grim for the people of the Pillar.  Time ebbed by and the rebels finally gave up on trying the take The Pillar.  The sheer walls that ran along the coast would not yield the foothold they required.  The ships that made it were enough to keep them at bay with each attempt.  Due to the cities salvation by the navy, they turned to Saylin, The Father Of Waves, believing all the other gods had found them in disfavor.  They held steadfast that he would lend strength and courage to the men and women defending the last refuge of society.

Eventually the rebels turned upon each other, forming warlord ruled clans that continue to fight today for portions of Isadar around The Pillar.  Eventually, the chaos drew out the barbarians from the wild, plunging the land back into the brutal violence it had been rescued from.  A few of the more brazen warlords even tried an occasional assault on the great island fortress itself.  The Pillar managed to live on with the technology and trades that were rescued before the society outside collapsed and created a self-sufficient nation in-and-of itself.  So came to pass the Pillar amidst the storm of war outside.