Mage Tank

Who was Brae’ach? Why was he rampaging across Timagrin? Why did Avarice believe he threatened the entire world? To answer these questions, we had to understand the natural conditions in Davah, its history, and the culture of its people.

Avarice’s version of the story was long, providing a lot of context for Brae’ach and his home nation of Davah. She talked for hours, narrating an entire novel’s worth of information. She created illusions for imagery and spoke with voices for the characters that would have been impossible for a natural person with non-magical vocal cords. She even used sound effects! It was a very C3PO and the Ewoks type of presentation.

Including the whole thing word for word was tempting, but this ain’t a history textbook. Instead, I present:

Brae’ach and the Davahn Unification, Abridged

Written by: Esquire Arlo Xor’Drel, Platinum Delver, Extradimensional Traveler, and Astronaut

Davah is a large island nation in southwestern Arzia, about 10 times the size of Hiward, or roughly one-half of an Australia. It’s a harsh land, buffeted by frequent storms, blanketed in sweltering heat for most of the year, and infested with magical beasts whose ferocity is second only to the flora and fauna indigenous to the Less-Than-Habitable Forest.

The outer edge of Davah is ruled by wild jungle and its inner territories are dominated by sharp mountains and craggy terrain in a geologically impossible arrangement of hostile topography. There is little space for agriculture, and the humanoid society that calls it home survived primarily through hunting and gathering.

Historically, the nation was ruled by seven tribes, each of which controlled a swath of jungle that made up the outer edge of the country. Each tribe was composed of several clans of Davahns, who would engage in a healthy amount of infighting, sabotage, and general mayhem. The clans would occasionally set aside intra-tribal squabbles to band together and fight the tribe next door for land and resources.

The wars between tribes were usually incited by some natural disaster, such as a hurricane wiping out infrastructure or a drought destroying what meager crops the tribes were able to grow. Earthquakes were frequent, and sinkholes and fissures would sometimes sunder entire villages. To top it all off, beast hordes would arise from within the mountains and had to be carefully culled, but occasionally overran the hunters and invaded the jungle.

Understandably, the tribes were often threatened with resource scarcity, and such scarcity was relieved by stealing from the neighbors. The wars also had the handy side effect of reducing population, thus further alleviating strains on food and housing. Oddly, such things were seldom taken personally, and once peace resumed the tribes would quickly forget the hostility of their neighbors. They weren’t so naive as to believe it wouldn’t happen again at the first sign of weakness, but there was a turn-the-other-cheek mentality that would have been alien to most outside perspectives.

This attitude partially resulted from the need to manage the demand for food and shelter. It was so integral to the Davahn way of life, that self-sacrifice was culturally venerated. Whether it was through death in battle, or elder tribe members wandering into the mountains to never be seen again, making the personal choice to give your life for the tribe’s greater good was a pillar of Davahn society. This also meant that personal strength was held in high esteem, and every Davahn was trained to hunt and fight the moment they went from toddling to properly walking.

Most of Davah’s population lived on the coastline, the waters infested with sea creatures every inch as fearsome as the beasts on the land. Over time, a strong maritime culture emerged, and one of the outer tribes developed a powerful navy after several generations of prosperity. This group was situated on the northern side of the island and eventually made their way across the sea to the territorial waters of Timagrin. There, they engaged in the age-old practice of piracy, further boosting their affluence compared to the other tribes. The navy met several Timan warships, but Davahn warriors were fierce, their bodies and ships tempered by the constant struggle against magical predators, and the Timans were handily beaten.

While most Davahns resided on the coast, a scattering of nomadic clans eschewed the jungle in favor of the mountains. These Davahns rarely interfaced with the outer tribes, journeying to the coasts mainly to trade meat and materials earned by hunting the native beasts. They had no formal social structure, and conflicts in the central region were kept to a minimum out of necessity. All it took to wipe out a central clan was a single battle that drew the attention of a beast horde, so–unlike the outer tribes–these groups operated collaboratively toward mutual survival.

Their cooperation didn’t save them.

With their victories over the Timans, the northern tribe acquired a wealth of weapons and armor which catapulted them a century forward on the military tech tree. They invaded the mountains, enslaved the nomadic clans, and used the central territory to launch a campaign against each of the outer tribes in quick succession. The jungle tribes lacked coordination, so this bloody campaign steamrolled the nation and rapidly resulted in what was then referred to as the Davahn Empire by the rest of the world. For nearly a century the empire ruled Davah, ushering in a time of unparalleled prosperity, much of which was due to the Davahns continuing to raid the shores of Timagrin, Mittak, and smaller regions east of Davah along the tamer western edge of the Forest.

Then, the Hiwardians discovered the Creation Delve, kicked some Littan asses, and began distributing creation slots to other nations in return for resources and political favor. Davah had few natural resources to exploit but were up to their necks in magical monster parts, which Hiward had many uses for in its burgeoning Delver economy. Deals were struck, and Davah secured 4 creation slots. This was the beginning of the end for the empire.

The ruling central tribe kept 2 slots for itself, and distributed the remaining 2 to the most productive and–supposedly–loyal outer tribes. This rankled the rest of the tribes, but they were assured that they would each get their turn.

The central tribe had the most interaction with Hiward and absorbed much of its Delver culture, leading to careful and considered approaches to the Delves. Slow and steady development would lead to the strongest individuals over time. The two outer tribes, however, began a mercenary campaign of rushing their Delvers through as many Delves as possible.

They offered outsized rewards to talented Delving crews from other nations to carry the Davahns and push their Delvers up the level brackets much faster than the central group. By the time the next Creation slots were distributed, the outer Delvers were by far the most powerful people in the nation. They poached the pair of Delvers from the central region with gear, the promise of easy levels, and intimidation. They intercepted and sank the ships ferrying candidates from the other outer tribes, and then replaced them with their own people.

This created chaos in Davah, led to a fresh round of intertribal conflicts, and resulted in a campaign against the Delver tribes which ultimately failed as the handful of supersoldiers beat back hosts of mundane Davahns. It was a pyrrhic victory, however, and the unfettered use of destructive Delver magicks scoured habitable land, devastated crops, and hamstrung Davah’s population of healthy warriors who combated the beast hordes.

Throughout this period, the mundane tribes sent missives to Hiward requesting aid in protecting their Creation slots. Hiward was still organizing itself in the wake of their rebellion and had a policy of non-interference, reluctant to dedicate resources to foreign conflicts while they fortified themselves against outside threats. The tribes were left to themselves, creating no small amount of animosity.

This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

The Davahns became more reliant on raiding and piracy to offset their resource shortages. The two Delver tribes acted as violent warlords and began press-ganging warriors into their service. This left most of the Davahns to fend for themselves in the face of extermination from the unopposed rise in beast hordes, starvation, or common brutality.

As Davahn civilization devolved into violence and oppression, the Delver tribes turned their sights on Timagrin and Hiward, building up a fleet of war vessels crewed predominantly by involuntary soldiers and led by the full might of the Davahn Delvers. They invaded Timagrin, dove deeper past the shorelines than ever before, slaughtered Timan Delvers, and seized productive populations and equipment. This went on for several years, and the Davahns began to demand that the Timan Delver slots be awarded to them instead. They controlled the shorelines, preventing Timagrin from sending candidates to Creation, and Hiward had been forced to either keep the slots for itself or sell them to the highest bidder (usually Litta).

Hiward did not appreciate this attitude, and the conflict culminated in a naval battle between Hiward and Davah. The Davahns had powerful ships, were naturally more resilient and physically gifted than the Hiwardians, and had lived long lives of endless combat. Hiward, on the other hand, had been quietly developing the most advanced mana-woven vessels and weapons in the world. They also had way way more Delvers.

A joint offensive was deployed by what remained of the Timan forces, creating a two-front war against the Davahns, one by land and one by sea. Hiward crushed the fleet and killed most of the enemy Delvers. The Davahn rank and file were primarily conscripts; their morale was easily broken and the Timans drove the Davahns from their lands.

The Davahn Creation slots were stripped away, and heavy sanctions were placed on the country, cutting them off from global trade. Hiward agreed to a mutual defense pact with Timagrin and helped establish a naval base on Timagrin’s southern tip, Reimara. Its mission was to sink any Davahn ships that strayed too close to Timan waters. Over the next decade, political efforts were made to allow Davah back onto the global stage in exchange for harsh concessions, but all offers were met with stubborn refusal, and diplomats were stonewalled or met with violence. Davah became completely insular, and little is known of what has gone on within the nation’s border over the last 30 years.

Now, enter Brae’ach.

Davahns are naturally long-lived, more likely to perish from violence than disease or the ravages of time. Brae’ach was young when the tribes were joined under the empire’s banner, and a seasoned warrior by the time the Delves were uncovered. Even now at the venerable age of 221, he wouldn’t exactly have been considered ‘old’, but definitely well into the salt-and-pepper years.

Brae’ach did not have the fortune of living in the northern tribe that formed the empire, and the bloodshed of that war marred his youth. While the imperial years had been a time of relative prosperity, Davah was hardly a land of milk and honey. Brae’ach’s tribe was forced to tame the craggy mountains alongside the subjugated nomads, his people better than slaves in name only.

Brae’ach earned a reputation as a fierce hunter. It has been said that a Davahn warrior is worth 3 from any other nation, and Brae’ach could fell creatures that normally took an entire Davahn hunting party to slay. Few were his equal, although he had no taste for battle against his fellow tribes. This earned him some favor from the emperor, which mostly resulted in more forays into the wild lands between the peaks. He kept a portion of every kill, and within his tribe, he was considered wealthy, but such wealth paled in comparison to even middling warriors of the north. So it was that Brae’ach fought and bled to keep his people safe against the beasts for more than a century.

When Davah acquired Creation slots, Brae’ach was the obvious choice for his tribe to submit as a candidate. His people were poor by most measures and would have been near the bottom of the pecking order, but Brae’ach’s prowess earned him a place in the second round of Davahn hopefuls. He boarded a northbound ship with his mate Til’ach, head filled with aspirations of raising his tribe up through his accomplishments. It was his hope that the power and income earned through Delving would pull them all from the gutters of Davahn society.

The outer Delver tribes attacked and sank his ship during their coup.

Of course, being the unadulterated hunk of raw badass that he was, Brae’ach survived and swam 30 miles to the Davahn shore, carrying Til’ach on his back the whole way.

What followed was a period of despotism that saw Brae’ach’s friends and family fall one by one under the savagery of the new Delver warlords. His prowess meant little in the face of a level 10 supersoldier, even though he often exceeded them in skill. He was used for sport by the Delvers, who could take him within an inch of his life and then heal him with their magicks, assuming they were in the mood to do so.

Brae’ach was a hunter, not a soldier, but he learned quickly and could soon meet most low-level Delvers on equal footing. During this period he also continued to hunt, and consuming the flesh of his mana-infused prey offered him a semblance of power like that of the Delvers, although its progress was slow and pushed his preternatural constitution to its limits. This went on for decades until the Delvers sailed on Timagrin and Hiward.

Brae’ach had no hand in that war. He took Til’ach, his children, and his grandchildren into the mountains, hiding from those who sought to conscript him for what he rightfully saw as a doomed venture. He’d built strong relationships with the enslaved nomads over the years they’d hunted together, and they kept him hidden in cave systems and deep fissures. His hope was that the Delver warlords would die in their campaign of hubris, and though many did, many more still returned home.

When trade embargoes came down on Davah, most who were affected had nothing to do with the war. The bulk of the Delvers responsible had been killed. Most of the rest fled the nation for greener pastures once it became clear that their homeland was quickly becoming uninhabitable from their own mismanagement. Four Delvers remained, however, secure in their power since no new Davahn Delvers would arise. They divided up what was left of the valuable lands and ruled with the insurmountable truth of their invulnerability.

Brae’ach became an important figure in what became the nomadic underground, with the ultimate goal of usurping the Delvers. They petitioned Hiward, Timagin, Mittak, and even Litta for aid, but their petitions went unanswered. Brae’ach saw this as a slight–especially since he believed these nations were partially responsible for the conditions in his country–but there are no records to indicate any of the envoys successfully made it to their destinations. Eventually, Brae’ach began seeking other, more extreme roads to power, a journey that took him into the darkest depths of the mountains.

He searched for ever more powerful beasts in the vain hope that the mana-infused flesh would give the nomads the strength to resist. The nomadic tribes faced heavy losses, dying in the hunt or perishing from mana toxicity when they consumed the meat. Those who lived slowly grew stronger while the Delver warlords were excluded from the Delves and stagnated in their power. Eventually, the ploy was discovered by one of the warlords, who personally began to exterminate what remained of Brae’ach’s allies.

On a cloud-covered night in the midst of scorching summer heat, the Delver came for the nomad hideout. Though they fled, Brae’ach’s family was slaughtered over the course of hours. Brae’ach took them deeper into the caves than he’d ever scouted, harried by beasts and hunted by the warlord. Despite all his strength, he was powerless to save them, and the first dregs of true despair began to enter his heart.

As the Delver followed them down, miles below the surface, his manic rage echoing off the walls, an earthquake hit.

Part of the cave system collapsed and the Delver warlord was crushed. Brae’ach and his mate were the only two of his family left, and Til’ach had taken a wound in the gut during their flight. They were trapped, alone, and Til’ach was not long for the world.

Brae’ach continued on, even deeper than before, carrying Til’ach and hunting for a way through the caves. He wandered for half a day, driven by some deep conviction that pressed him onward until he found the Altar.

Brae’ach discovered a great cavern, its walls sundered and revealed by the quake. At its center was a monolith made of unknown metal and stone, which came to life under the brush of his fingertips. He felt its connection to the mountains, to the ground beneath him, to a creature that lived below with all of Davah upon its back.

It was hidden but had not chosen to hide, buried by the ages as it slept. The world had starved it, but it had gathered its strength for untold millennia. It was waiting, and Brea’ach brought its wait to an end.

As Brae’ach’s finger fell away from the monolith, Unity made itself known.

The first avatar offered him salvation.

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