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<b>From the Epistles of Wayfarer Lucien<br>
<b>From the Epistles of Wayfarer Lucien<br>
to the Winds of Virtue Chapter, 12BE</b>
to the Winds of Virtue Chapter, 12BE</b>
Revision as of 10:45, 15 June 2012
“Pride in small things, loyalty to great ones”
- 1 Introduction
- 2 The People
- 3 Culture and Customs
- 4 History
- 5 Political Leadership
- 6 Economic Interests
- 7 Military Concerns
- 8 Religious Beliefs
- 9 Magical Traditions
- 10 The Marcher Egregore
- 11 Icons and images
- 12 Lineage and Species Attitudes
- 13 Territories
- 14 Children
The Marches: Hearth and home; loyalty and land. Rivalry, pride and a nation of traditions. Sentinel hills, silent marshes, and standing stones that mark the roads to Elsewhere. Generation to generation tilling the good, dark earth as their forebears did and reaping the harvests that feed all the Empire.
For centuries, the Marcher Households have marched with the Empire’s armies, reliant not so much on magic or shining faith, but on the strength of their arms, the courage of their hearts, and the knowledge that they fought for the green fields of home.
Old folk tell of glorious conquest in their grandsires' time, of defeat in their own, and hope for victory in years to come. The woodsman and the smith turn their hands to things of war. The merchant’s clerk lists supplies for the baggage train. The ceremonies of the harvest are marked with blood. Those granted stewardship remember wicker men. Those who choose to follow know the power of sacrifice.
The Marches is the sleeping giant of Empire. Enemy boots churn up the rich soil, as the dog days of Summer give way to the cold dawn of Autumn – and to war.
Five things about the Marches
- The heart of the Marches is the Household. Yeomen loyal in livery, proud of their history and versed in the long rivalries between their Households.
- They're governed by consent. They choose their leaders, their councillors and their delegates. Marcher Folk are led not ruled.
- They're fiercely independent, proud and stubborn. They solve their own problems and stand their ground to defend what is theirs.
- They hold to traditional beliefs. This is a land of heart and soul, of touching iron to avert ill and casting salt for luck, where Imperial Virtues are just plain common sense.
- Land matters above all else. Land influences every aspect of Marcher life, most especially politics and magic.
The Marches is a proud nation. The folk here are proud of their accomplishments, proud of their Households and their history, proud of their traditions and their mastery of their land. The Marches is the breadbasket of the Empire. No other land is as fertile and no other people work as hard as the Marcher folk. The Marchers have no time for idle hands and idle tongues.
The archetypal Marcher is the yeoman, that Imperial subject famous for fiery pride and unyielding self-reliance. They are a hard people, well accustomed to a long day working the land. A single farm on this rich soil has the income to outfit its holder in plated steel. A yeoman men-at-arms of the Marches can be as heavily armoured as a knight from another nation.
Yeomen own most of the farmland. Yeomen may group into households, choosing one of their number to lead. The yeoman who leads a household is known as its steward, and they have authority over those who have entrusted them with leadership.
The territories of the Marchers are governed by the steward of the household which controls the most land. The steward who rules a territory is known as its elector. The elector bears personal responsibility for the safety of their March.
Yeomen wear their Household livery with pride, viewing those in foreign colours as rivals at best. This leads to passionate and sometimes bitter rivalries. Marcher history is filled with accounts of bloody conflicts between once powerful Households, fortunes that wax and wane with victories on the battlefield. Marcher folk have long memories and feuds are nursed through the generations. In some cases they've become so ingrained that the truth behind them is no longer remembered, or even considered particularly relevant.
Marcher folk don’t stand around waiting for someone else to solve their problems. Self-reliance is a large part of their national character. While there is plenty of land for the ambitious to start new farms, it has to be cleared: of trees still, in places, of foes, of orcs perhaps. People of other nations talk endlessly about what it means to be heroic; Marchers don’t waste their breath, they just get on and do what needs to be done. Self-sacrifice underpins many elements of Marcher culture. It is found in the tenacious attitude of the people to hardship. It is found in the belief that hard work pays for good fortune. And it is found in the response of an Elector to the loss of their territory. The ultimate sacrifice, death in a wicker man, for the ultimate responsibility.
Culture and Customs
Traditions are important in the Marches. The Empire has brought new ways and new wealth but the Marcher Folk do not forget themselves, or the old ways that made them strong. Tried and trusted traditions bind the folk together and give a context to their lives. Traditions such as “hue and cry”, “shunning” and "beating the bounds" are all artefacts of a system that has worked to make the Marches strong for centuries. Newer religious traditions such as "shriving" have been grafted on to these Marcher roots.
Their attitude of taking matters in hand is the basis of the hue and cry, the old tradition of law enforcement in the Marches that still endures. Any Marcher who witnesses a crime can raise a hue and cry. All able-bodied men and women, upon hearing the shouts, are expected to assist in the pursuit until the felon is apprehended. In the past, the hue and cry would often result in summary justice for a criminal, which occasionally lead to innocent people receiving harsh punishments. Today, suspects are turned over to Imperial magistrates to judge. The readiness of the Marchers to defend the common good derives from their belief in doing the right thing and their pride that they are up to the task of getting it done.
Those who break Marcher traditions, such as ignoring a hue and cry, are likely to end up subject to Shunning. Individuals who are shunned are effectively cast out of society. They are turned out of their Household or town and find every door closed in their face. Helping or in some cases even acknowledging someone who has been shunned can result in the offender being shunned in turn. Shunning may last for a week, a season, a year or even indefinitely. The extent of the punishment depends on who is enacting it – one family may shun another and anyone who helps them, or an entire Houshold or town might shun someone and encourage all their allies to do the same.
Traditionally shunning is about survival - when times are hard, people who act against the interests of their neighbours endanger the entire community. Most individuals who are shunned are forced to leave the area, unable to buy food or secure lodging. It is a serious matter for Marchers who hold hearth and home so dear.
Another ancient tradition is the beating of the bounds. The Beaters embody Marcher Loyalty: they mark out what is Marcher and what is Not, and they help the Civil Service with the recording of who is loyal to whom, This happens at the festival of Summer’s-End, the feast of Loyalty, after the harvest is in. At this festival every Marcher Household marks its land, by walking around the boundary led by the Beaters. Certain stones, trees or other marker points around the boundary are beaten literally, ceremonially striking them with sticks or willow wands. The ceremony is designed to remind all of the size of the holding, but it also works to remind everyone of who is part of the community and who is outside it.
Every home in the Marches has at least one straw dolly or poppet, made at the time of harvest to bring good luck to the house and ward off evil omens. These intricately tied and woven effigies of straw, corn, oats, rye, grass or rushes traditionally bind the vitality of the field and bring their strength into the home. Some folk use poppets as elements for focusing medicine or magical effects.
Marcher folk place great store by their poppets. Every child is given a straw dolly of their own; stories abound of children separated from their poppets prematurely who suffer a terrible fate. A poppet protects a child before they are old enough to look after themselves. In particular, an expectant mother will carry a poppet to ensure the health of the child. When the season turns again to sowing the seeds for the new crop these poppets are laid on the fields and ploughed back into the earth, or occasionally cast into a bonfire, ensuring a bountiful harvest for the following year.
The sinister wicker man is another old Marcher tradition, and can be seen as a poppet on a much larger scale. A giant figure constructed of wicker and wood that is set alight, it is often used to burn sacrifices. Ideal sacrifices are things that belong to the land already such as crops and domestic animals. These sacrifices acknowledge the relationship between the land and the people and it is believed that the fires safeguard the fertility of the land for future generations.
Occasionally things that have damaged or offended the land or the folk are burnt inside. Individuals who have failed badly in their duty are sometimes led to the wicker man so that they can redeem themselves and avoid being shunned; there is a folk belief that burning in a wicker man cleanses the soul and avoids a terrible reincarnation. On rare occasions an Imperial magistrate born in the Marches will order the punishment for those whose crimes warrant execution, especially traitors.
Iron is another traditional symbol of power in the Marches. Iron tools are used to work the land, steel weapons and armour are used to defend it. Iron is the symbol of a yeoman's mastery of the land he owns and it holds a power as old as the land it comes from. Marcher folk will often “touch iron” for good fortune or to ensure their hopes for the future come true. Some Marchers carry a lodestone of good iron around their neck to have it to hand, or else keep a piece at the centre of their table.
Marcher folk are keen on mottos, aphorisms, and sayings. Favourites can have double meanings often unnoticed to the outsider. Individuals generally pick one or two that they like or find particularly wise, but some collect dozens of sayings and employ them at every opportunity. Widespread sayings include: “Pride in small things, loyalty to great ones”; "heart and hearth"; “sword and shears alike”; "know a body by their March; judge'em by their company"; “every wife has two husbands, every husband two wives”; "The best soil is thirsty soil, watered with tears, sweat and blood"; “Without the League the Empire's table might lack spice; without the Marches, it would lack bread"; "Sow, tend and reap; fight, toil and weep"; "One boy’s a boy, two boys is half a boy and three boys is no boy at all.", and "The answer lies in the soil."
At their best, Marcher folk relish competition, and sports and games are taken very seriously. Different areas have their own ball games: arguments over the exact rules of some variant of football, or what you can and can't do in a stick and ball game, persist down the generations. Competitions and sports are sometimes used to decide serious matters or settle disputes. In some cases participation may even be part of ancient treaties between Households.
In ancient times, there were only savages in the lands that now form the Marches. Dawn to the East was the earlier nation, and even then it was ruled by noble houses who set the tests you had to pass to join. Centuries before the foundation of Empire, people from Dawn drove the orcs and others west. They carved out the new border territory of the Riding with blood and struggle. Stories told in Dawn tell of glorious battle against the foul orcs. The Marcher folk tell of knights leaving the western people to deal with the raids and the actual day-today defence of the new border. Either way, yeomen from the Riding moved further west and cleared Upwold as a genuinely independent territory.
The Marchers believe their forebears rebelled against the noble houses and replaced the ridiculous system of "tests of mettle" with simple loyalty. The way the people of Dawn tell it, Marchers are Dawnsfolk who failed their tests and moved to the new territories in shame. Marchers say the first Landkeepers found a wilderness and made it the richest land in the world. The people of Dawn say Marchers just practise peasant magic.
In Dawn, troubadors sing of the villany of letting a person rise to status by simply setting up a farm, while in the Marches they tell tales of noble houses setting impossible tests to keep their "lessers" in their place. In Dawn, they believe that the test of mettle is a good measure of man's quality, while any Marcher will tell you it's not a test, it's a gift. Marcher folk believe anyone can rise to greatness with work, while some people of Dawn say the Marchers mean to bring everyone down to their level. Dawn hold personal glory paramount, Marchers would die nameless if duty to the household demanded. It'd be difficult to say the two nations are friends. Both sides have their legends of land stolen or rightful taxes evaded. Both nations say that any rebels in their ranks are free to try their luck in the lands of the other.
However, both nations recognise the benefits of Empire: there are greater enemies to fight. When the first Empress came to the Marches, she'd a simple story to tell. Humanity was in deadly danger. Marchers nodded at the story, and were most amused by her victory over King of Dawn in personal combat. She'd beaten Dawn as they had, and she could see what was plain as the nose on her face. The threat of barbarian orcs, and the absolute necessity of driving them into the sea. They knew the price of owning good land like theirs. They could see that if her Empire came to be, and her war happened, the Marches, not Dawn, would be the ones to prosper. In a simple extension of the process of household fealty, the Electors of the Marches swore to send her senators, where once they'd elected one of their own as leader. The process of choosing an Emperor inherits ancient Marcher tradition.
Entry to the Empire brought some changes. Pious Marcher folk returning from pilgrimages to Highguard founded the monasteries which now dot the landscape. Friars have become an important part of most Households and few powerful Marcher households do not have one or more of these learned folk by their side. Imperial writ created the market towns, outside the control of the households. Yet the traditional beliefs that give the Marcher Folk their strength have endured every transformation brought by the Empire.
The Marches has gained more than most from the rule of the Empire. At foundation, it was two territories and an obvious base from which to expand. Early campaigns west from the Riding added the Mourne to the Marches land. In the time of the Empire's glory, they struck north and west and reached the sea to bring Mitwold into Empire and gain themselves a coast. Bregasland was added in alliance with the merrow by command of a later Emperor. Dawn may proudly boast that it's never lost a territory, but the Marches has gained much, much more than Dawn has.
Farmland is the basis of political leadership in the Marches, and power is vested in those who own and control the great agricultural estates.
Anyone who owns land has a stake in Marcher politics. Any man or woman who owns farmland has the right to call themselves a yeoman. Any yeoman can choose to follow another, as part of their Household, and the leader of a Household is known as its Steward. The Steward whose Household controls the largest amount of land - including that controlled by all the smaller Households sworn to them - is declared the Elector of that March and its leader.
In times past, a Household would be responsible for the defence of all the members’ lands, so it was practical for members to live near each other. In modern times this requirement is less important and the lands claimed by a Household may be scattered throughout a March. Smaller Households often swear loyalty to larger ones, partly to further cooperation between Households and partly to increase their political power. Owning farmland is considered a great responsibility; it is the duty of the yeoman to ensure the best interests of everyone who lives and works on it.
The Elector is expected to serve the interests of the March and those who live there. It is the responsibility of the Elector to appoint an Imperial Senator for their territory. It is rare for a Elector to declare themselves as Senator. The common feeling is that Imperial business creates demands on a Elector’s time that prevent them properly managing their Household or the folk who have sworn allegiance to them.
The competition to become the Elector of a March can be very fierce. The larger Households in a March compete with one another to have the largest number of landowners under their banner, and as with so much else in the Marches the results of these selections have caused bitter feuds and sometimes open conflict.
Merchants, miners, craftsmen and the like are forced to rely on neighbouring Households to speak for them in the political process. Over recent years, there has been growing dissatisfaction in some quarters about this arrangement, but it represents one of the oldest traditions of the Marches and is unlikely to be changed any time soon – attempting to do so could well prompt a civil war in the Nation.
Agriculture is the basis of wealth in the Marches. Even a modest holding produces an income that allows its yeoman to live comfortably. With some improvement, a Marcher farm can pay for luxuries and imported goods. Marcher fields and orchards feed people across the Empire. Trade surplus in the form of cured and preserved meats, fitches of bacon, barrels of beer and cider, bushels of fruit and vegetables, and sacks of flour travel from one side of the Empire to the other.
Much of this trade comes initially to one of the many small but important market towns that dot the landscape. The market rights were established centuries ago by Imperial charter, and towns with these rights are outside the direct control of the Households. The inhabitants of a market town appoint Aldermen to operate the town. In most cases these men or women are wealthy merchants of the town, but often they include prominent town folk such as a friar or blacksmith who lives in the village. Those market towns that employ their own militia usually raise the captain to the rank of Alderman.
Most market towns are small, little more than a few score houses on either side of a main street. The Imperial charters prevent a market town being established within a full day's travel of an existing market town but competition and rivalry between market towns is at least as fierce as that between rival Householders. Because the market towns lack a stake in the political process, they are forced to rely on neighbouring Households to represent their interests. While most Marcher folk see this as right and proper, a life of honest toil on the land being superior to a life spent haggling for every last silver, Aldermen often have a rather different view.
The market towns are relatively new phenomenon – none are more than 150 years old – and they are only just beginning to come into their power. They represent a place where a canny individual can make a fortune, where individual achievement, chutzpah and moxie are valued commodities, and they represent an opportunity to travel outside the parochial circle of the traditional Marcher. Market towns send representatives all over the Empire and beyond to secure deals, acquire trade goods, and negotiate contracts. They are rich, and their wealth brings a power of its own that may yet prove to be a match for that of the Households.
Perhaps more than anything else, the market towns create an environment where it is not land, but wealth, that leads to prosperity. If there were to be a bad harvest in the Marches, the market towns would be in the best position to adapt to that disaster and continue to prosper. Those Marcher folk who do not own farmland are beginning to look to the market towns to offer them a different way of life. The most successful towns are starting to grow and exert real influence on nearby Households.
Blacksmiths are particularly well regarded in the Marches. A blacksmith character appears in many folk tales offering advice and support to the hero or heroine, and often provides them with the tool they need to overcome their adversaries. Part of the respect due to blacksmiths comes from their ability to take the “bones of the earth” and use it to create the tools that are vital to both agriculture and war. The blacksmiths create the weapons and armour without which the Marches would fall to its enemies, but their role in society goes beyond this. Many have at least a working knowledge of magic, and are considered wise. Worked iron is a useful talisman for luck in countless different forms because it contains the blacksmith’s magic and there is a long-standing tradition of asking them to bless newborn children, young animals and newly-weds. A blacksmith who has evidenced some level of common sense is often accorded the same level of respect that a wise priest or Landkeeper receives. The most prosperous Households and market towns usually include a blacksmith in their number.
The rich Marcher soil gives rise to great military strength. The most powerful Households field ranks of armoured yeoman wearing their colours, who fight together and dominate the battlefield. Neighbours used to working together fight shoulder to shoulder to defend their land and the pride of their Household. The expectation of loyalty and understanding of sacrifice breeds a ferocious solidity in their lines. This close camaraderie can make a Marcher Household a fearsomely cohesive force. They're supported by archers and billmen who do not have the land or other income to afford heavier armour, or choose to spend what they do have in other ways.
Traditional rivalries are put to one side when a Marcher army faces a force of outsiders, and folk who would go out of their way to avoid acknowledging each other will fight back to back against a band of invading orcs.
A Marcher general is expected to lead from the front and to be the last to leave a battlefield; sharing the same risks and privations, making the same sacrifices as the common soldier, is part and parcel of what it means to be a Marcher. Marcher generals have a reputation for being cautious, and for valuing victory more than personal glory. “War is a thrice-ploughed field” is a common saying in the Marches, where war is seen as hard dirty work, not unlike the harvest.
Young Marchers gladly volunteer their service to the Empire. Five years of service in the Imperial army is considered an excellent coming of age for the sons and daughters of a Yeoman, offering them a chance to learn a little of the outside world and to earn the stake to purchase their own farm and become Yeomen themselves. For a Nation that prides itself on its military prowess, it also ensures a steady stream of soldiers with practical experience of battle.
Not all boundaries are on the outside
Most Households include a few Beaters in their number. Beaters roam through the lands claimed by a Household, learning every part of the land, watching for poachers and other itinerants and ne’er-do-wells. In Marcher history, Beaters were often instrumental in settling land disputes between neighbours and they still play a vital role in the tradition of beating the bounds. Beaters have the right to take sufficient game to feed themselves from any part of a Household’s lands and so most are skilled woodsmen or hunters. Beaters also serve as an informal police force on Household land, , investigating crimes and tracking criminals. While an individual Beater owes allegiance to a Household, they make no secret of the fact that they maintain an informal network among themselves.
The Beaters watch the boundaries and defend them against trespass until its forces can muster. They also remain vigilant for internal threats. In addition to the orcs that still occupy the more inaccessible hills and wild forests of the Marches, there are bands of Féni, the ancient people driven from the fertile lowlands centuries ago. These primitive humans cover their skin in green and yellow tattoos and launch raids against civilised Marchers to steal cattle or crops. If something or someone is raiding out of the forests or hills then the Beaters are the ones who are called on to hunt it.
In time of war, Beaters serve their Households as scouts, ranging ahead of the main force. Their experience watching the boundaries of the nation makes them useful light troops, particularly in forested areas, an excellent complement to the heavily armoured yeomen.
Initially our efforts to spread the Way in the Marches were fruitful.
Though they show little interest in the immortality of their soul
or the nature of the Labyrinth of Ages, there is clear evidence that
virtue, especially Loyalty, informs much of their culture. There are
also tales of a man they call Good Walder whose legend I would
submit to the Assembly as possible Exemplar of Prosperity. We
Regrettably, the situation has become complicated when Sister
Ashara burned one of the false idols that they insist that their
children carry with them. Upon the child’s cry, a mob descended
upon the inn we are staying at. They beat upon the door as I write… From the Epistles of Wayfarer Lucien
to the Winds of Virtue Chapter, 12BE
Before the Empire, the typical Marcher gave minimal thought to matters of the soul. The presumption was that as long as one lived a good life, was loyal, respected the traditions of ones ancestors, and kept a clear idea of right and wrong, one would be reincarnated on Marcher soil. The closest they came to religion was a tradition of speaking for the souls of people who had crossed from one life to another at funeral, and in some areas at a yearly festival. Following contact with Highborn Wayfarers, a number of Marcher folk did undertake a pilgrimage to Highguard where they were outspoken regarding the nature of Virtue and, amongst other things, saw Good Walder, a figure in some Marcher legends, recognised as an incarnation of the Paragon of Prosperity. These Marcher pilgrims became the seeds of the Marcher Assembly. Upon returning from Highguard, the Marcher Assembly founded the first monasteries. Monasteries are usually surrounded by fertile farmland that is owned and worked by the monks. Both male and female monks wear plain garments, not unlike priestly robes in Highguard, though often simpler and less ostenatious, and live together in the monastery. They divide their time between study and working the farmlands claimed by the monastery. The leader of a monastery is called an Abbot, and monks usually refer to one another with familial titles (cousin among monks of the same generation, uncle or aunt when talking to an older monk, nephew or niece when talking to a younger monk). While their ownship of land entitles them to a position in the Marcher political system, no Abbot has yet become Elector of a March – and to date few Households have pledged their loyalty to a monastery. Such a development is not outside the bounds of possibility, however. A few monasteries are formed purely of scholars who take little part in warfare, but the majority include capable warriors who will don armour when battle is due. “You don't own it, unless you can defend it.” is a Marcher saying that applies even to monasteries, and the Abbots have just as much reason as any Household to want to protect what is theirs. Some monasteries extend the right of sanctuary to anyone who comes to them, and warriors are occasionally needed to ensure that right is respected. Marcher monks minister to the spiritual welfare of the folk around their monastery, largely ignoring Household boundaries. They combine the teachings of the Imperial Faith with respect for Marcher tradition, and are generally adept at using the practice of shunning to identify and discourage un-virtuous behaviour. The monasteries are a powerful religious force in the Marches, but some religious folk become spiritual advisors to a specific Household or market town. These friars provide vital services to their adopted community. They read and write letters for those who are not literate, and teach the virtues and letters to young children. They also commonly serve as advisors to Yeomen and Aldermen, and many of them exert gentle but far-reaching influence over Households or market towns as a consequence. In some ways, these friars are the inheritors of the tradition of speaking for the soul; an older form of spiritual life. Some Marcher traditions that pre-date the Empire do survive, and nowadays verge on the heretical. Those who have lived virtuous lives are said to be reborn as apple trees between mortal lives, and it is custom to place an apple-seed under the tongue of a corpse. Should an apple tree actually sprout in a graveyard, the apples are not to be gathered, but are free for the poor and desperate to eat. The wood of these graveyard orchards is said to contain some of the wisdom or knowledge of the deceased. Many Shunned individuals survive on apples taken from graveyards. There is also a common belief that for those souls who have achieved true greatness, the grave is a literal “resting place.” According to this superstition, the greatest heroes of the nation simply slumber beneath the ground, ready to defend the Marches in its darkest hour. Those who have not lived virtuous lives are reborn as vermin – crows and rats have a reputation for being evil souls suffering between incarnations, preying on the crops of their descendants with vicious cunning. To avoid this fate, Marcher folk may seek out a trusted friar or monk for shriving. By confessing their reprehensible thoughts and actions, the Marcher folk disavow their actions and reduce the weight on their soul. A Marcher must keep such confessions totally private, but in doing so they bear some of the culpability for the actions. This is a grave sacrifice to make, and an offer of shriving is usually made only to those in great favour.
Custom and tradition create a magic of their own in the Marches. From the customs surrounding poppets to the rings of standing stones and earthworks, the magical sigils of the Marches are made from the earth, with the earth and from things that spring from the earth. Most Marcher folk have a deep suspicion of magic, believing it to be a path to sorcery and evil. Only blacksmiths and the Landkeepers, steeped in Marcher tradition, are truly exempt from this suspicion.
A Landkeeper is anyone who uses magic to support the territories or the nation as a whole. Some Landkeepers technically lack any real magical ability at all, using traditional rituals and offering good advice and aid to the Marcher folk. A woman that advises on the effective order to rotate your crops, what herbs to use to bring a pregnant pig to term, or where to place a bushel of wheat to keep out evil spirits, is a Landkeeper, whether or not she also employs magic.
The vast majority of Landkeepers form groups of their own, called circles, and keep a certain amount of distance from other Marcher folk. When Landkeepers do associate with Households or market towns directly it is always in pursuit of their own agenda. While they appear to disdain politics, most Landkeepers support the status quo. They view the lands as their charge, and their ultimate responsibility is to a territory rather than to any individuals.
Traditionally the Landkeepers support the Marcher armies in wartime. They provide magical enchantments to protect and empower the soldiers of the Marches, as well as healing the injured. Landkeepers act as they will in the service of the greater good, but they possess a license to take unpopular action. Part of their strength, and their ability to operate as they see fit comes, from their control of the magical Dolmans that stand throughout the Marches.
In addition to strengthening the Landkeepers, these great stones anchor powerful enchantments that grant the Marcher soil its extraordinary fertility. Without their influence the Marcher farms would be no more productive than those of any other land. Households who oppose the Landkeepers risk losing their magical support and even their very prosperity. In turn Landkeepers who disrespect the Householders are striking against the fabric of Marcher society that they are generally assumed to be protecting
The Landkeepers do not look well on the new fashion for market towns, a departure from the old ways that the majority have opposed at every turn. The Aldermen of the market towns have little appreciation for the work of the Landkeepers, and their politically protected status makes them hard to influence. Some Landkeeper circles have reached an accommodation with the market towns, but these are usually cautious and shaky associations.
Magic that is designed to harm or curse is referred to as sorcery. Someone who is suspected of using magic or old lore to damage others is a sorcerer and faces shunning or worse. There is a common belief in the Marches that all magic should be done publicly. Only sorcery is done in private - "dark minds find dark places to do dark deeds" so the saying goes. That is not to say that every magical ritual requires an audience, but the more effort the practitioners make to keep people from seeing what they are doing, the more suspect their magic must be.
Some Landkeepers dedicate themselves to tracking down, exposing and destroying sorcerers wherever they may operate. They are called Threshers, and they watch for wrong. Every farmer knows about separating wheat from chaff, and the Threshers look to separate human wheat from human chaff. They seek out those who are using magic or old lore against the interest of the land. Where crimes are being committed they work with the Beaters to capture the sorcerer and hand them over to Imperial justice. If the sorcerer has not broken any Imperial laws then Shunning is their punishment.
Finally, Landkeepers deal with the Eternals. Most Landkeepers have a deep suspicion of these creatures, which have complex and inscrutable agendas of their own. Most prefer to deal with the Heralds, the human-like servants of the Eternals with whom it is easier to reach a compromise or mutually beneficial accommodation.
The Marcher Egregore
The Marcher Egregore is Jack. It's a simply-dressed figure often adorned with leaves and carrying an axe. It is possible to discern Jack’s mood from the nature of the foliage or the type of axe; flowers indicate Jack is filled with Spring’s hope and joy, keen to see new life prosper, taking a particular interest in Marcher children. Jack’o'the’Spring is the woodcutter, and carries a small hatchet, or pruning-hook.
A forest bill, or battle-axe, indicates that Jack is girded for war, supporting Marcher troops as they line up to fight, and interested in the work of Marcher generals. That’s Jack-in-the-Green, the soldier, who often bears leaves of binding ivy.
When Jack appears bearing a ceremonial axe crafted from gold, then their interest lies with the political life of the Marches; Jack with the Axe of Gold is a reminder to yeomen, stewards and Electors alike that the Marches prospers through its honesty and integrity, rather than through taking short cuts.
And finally, when Jack appears bereft of foliage and carrying a scythe or executioner’s axe, then their mind is focused on matters of religion and introspection. Jack Frost speaks rarely, and only when there's something important to say; almost always intended to guide the Marcher Folk to stay true to the old ways and tend to the land.
Icons and images
Marchers mostly wear simple clothes, in plain colours. The soft colours of natural dyes, or unbleached cloth. Many will wear hose, though woodsmen in particular might live in leathers. Those higher up the social scale might wear finer robes, and richer colours, but over-display is disapproved of whoever you might be. Most Marchers favour some sort of headgear. Maybe a simple cap, or something a little more splendid for those of higher status.
Any Marcher who owns farmland is a yeoman, a member of a Household, albeit perhaps a Household of one, and any Marcher Household can declare a livery. Members of the Household wear the livery in some way - perhaps on a coat, perhaps a badge, or perhaps simply its colours as a sash. Yeomen who ally to a more powerful Household usually retain their own livery, or combine it with the new Households’ colours in some way.
Poppets and other symbols of the land are commonplace. Gates and doors are traditionally decorated with woven bundles of grain on either side, the respect shown to the land prevents evil doers from entering. The hearth is where food taken from the land is prepared. It should always be kept clean and ideally be decorated with fresh cut flowers to prevent food cooked there causing a poison of the blood. Poor Marcher Folk or those on campaign will make do with bundles of grass or common meadow flowers.
The symbol of the seed or apple and seed is a common representation of the soul and the cycle of rebirth. The crow and the rat are both images of ill-omen and bad luck.
Lineage and Species Attitudes
Marchers will concentrate on the positives in their own people, and the negatives in others. The Lineage'd are like normal folk, just more so. For example, a cambion from your own Household might be seen as energetic and spirited, whereas a cambion from some other territory would probably seen as particularly conniving, spiteful and ruthless.
We like the marsh, the marsh likes us, leave us to get on with each other.
The main exception to this general attitude is the Merrow lineage. Merrow as a whole are considered "not quite right" by other Marcher folk; they're secretive, cold and altogether too clever by half. Concentrated around the fens of Bregasland, those families with Merrow blood have traditionally kept to themselves. Merrow born elsewhere often move to join one of the Merrow Households in the marshes. For their own part, the Bregasland Merrow feel drawn by their blood to ferret out the secrets of the fens, ever closer to finding the strange things that live there.
The Marches is blessed with good quality soil and home to those that know how to work it. Most of the open space in populated areas is farmland, whether it is field upon field of golden swaying wheat or rows of river-side fruit trees. It seems that everywhere where people live is ready for harvest. Five territories make up the Marches, although two of them are not in Marcher hands.
Mitwold, Pride of the Marches
The largest settlement in the Marches is the small city of Meade in Mitwold. Crowded around the mouth of the eponymous river, this bustling hectic port is the main gateway for import and export of the Marches' many and plentiful foodstuffs and merchandise,, by sea at least. Here trade and commerce flourish and wealthy merchants and exotic foreigners are commonplace. It is said that prices in Mitwold are double that of any in the smallest market town in Bregasland.
There's gold in the soil of the north-western portion of the nation; the gold of summer's harvest. Mitwold's substantial coast, populated by small fishing villages along the shore, gives way to fertile chalk-soiled downs further inland, with rich game-filled woodland and larger farms beyond.
Upwold, The Silver Chase
The quick growing silver birch woods on the northern borders of Upwold are the source of much of the material used to manufacture paper in the Empire. It is said that Upwold’s trees keep the Imperial civil service running, what with all their form filling. The bark of those trees is used in the tanning industry, to cure the hides of the cattle that graze on the river pastures. It's one of the few areas where anything other than beer is drunk. There's a drink made of the sap of those trees that warms their hearts in the cold winter nights. Or drives them mad. It's definitely one of the two.
Through the dark heart of those woods are paths no Marcher treads. From these secret ways come raiders, thieves, and rustlers to take what honest folk have brought from the soil. Painted men, tattooed and wild, held back by the yew bows and staunch hearts of the Beaters. Further north, cousins to these forests decay into the marshes that form the southern border of Kallaveset, of Njordheim.
Bregasland, the Dour Fens
Sandwiched between the lost territory of The Mourn and the sea lies Bregasland, an area comprising partially of fenland leading to the coast. Home to “Bregas” (fenlanders), this is a place of small islands of abundantly fertile soil, surrounded by seemingly endless marshes where eels are caught. Here the people are particularly hardy, and often show Merrow lineage.
The Marches is not a naturally sea faring nation, but pirates and wreckers are not unheard of. The thousands of small inlets and secluded bays along the coast lend themselves to nefarious dealings and disreputable characters Shunned by right-thinking folk.
The Riding (LOST)
The Riding was a rich land, the first territory of the Marcher lands, and a sore loss to the Marches and the Empire. Its Elector burned in shame when it was lost to barbarians from the west. On open downs and in sheltered copses stand ancient and numinous stone circles, stalwart markers of the sites where the veneers between the worlds of Mortal and Eternal are at their thinnest. At these powerful primeval places, Landkeeper and commoner performed rites on festival and holy day alike, bringing health to the land and those who lived there. The land lost, the rites go unsaid.
It was the road to the League cities of Catazarria, and its loss is felt keenly by traders both sides of what was a busy border.
Mournwold (LOST), the Mourn
Mournwold was known as The Mourn even before its fall to the barbarian hordes. Originally the name referred to the sound of the wind in the trees and across the craggy hills. Now it seems a more fitting name for the loss which Marcher folk feels at the March's passing. The conquest of The Mourn is fresh in the hearts and memories of many a Marcher, less than a generation ago. Orcs, beastmen and the twisted creatures in their company amassed for months in the mountains beyond the borders. An army was mustered and troops arrived in their thousands to fight off the invaders. Despite the numbers of brave and sturdy Marchers, the horde was so numerous and ferocious that Mournwold was lost in pitched battle.
As the troops withdrew heavy hearted from a battle they could clearly not win, the hordes did not pursue, they stayed in those hills and valleys, scurrying down the mines, slaughtering and devouring the cattle, defiling and tainting the holy places for their own dark ends. With the loss of the Mourn, the Marches has lost much of its mining.
Marcher children are treated like any other growing thing; they are nurtured so that they may grow straight, strong and true, they are showered with love like the rain and sun and with discipline like the frost and wind.
It is universally recognised in the Marches that children are not yet “finished”, that is, that they have not grown enough in order to bear fruit (have children of their own, fight in the armies, or contribute to the nation in quite the same way as an adult). Until adulthood is reached, a child’s soul has not “fixed” or “settled” in their body, this is why children can be prone to selfishness, whim or fancy and can be unpredictable or fickle. However, that doesn't mean they can't work: they can watch, and they can help on the farm.
It is a common belief that the straw dollies given to children each year contain part of their soul that has been kept in the earth. Looking after the poppet is part of the child’s growing and maturing process – “learn to look after yourself and you’ll better look out for others” many a mother has been heard to say to her child. When the child’s poppet is ploughed back into the field his or her connection to the land is strengthened and that portion of their soul can rest for a short time.
The Rights and Tests of Adulthood, common across The Empire have just as much meaning in the Marches. When a child passes the tests and is deemed to be an adult, there is a celebration. Not unlike a birthday, gifts are given and tradition dictates that parents present their children with a weapon so that the child may fight for the Marches when needed and with a tool so that he or she may work the land in the mean time. These items are often heirlooms and have been passed along generations of families. This tradition is thought to be the origination of the phrase “sword and shear alike”.
There are a few regional variations upon this, but the principles are the same. Some well-wishers give a gift of symbolic jewellery representing the items instead.
Things every Child should know
- Heart and hearth Your Household is very important. You must work hard, learn things, and be the best you can be to keep your Household strong and safe.
- know a body by their March; judge'em by their company Stick with your friends and they will stick by you. Do as your leaders say, speak up if you don’t agree, and never make a promise you can’t keep.
- One boy's a boy, two boys is half a boy and three boys is no boy at all. Work always comes before play. If you see a job that needs doing, do it yourself to make sure it gets done.
- Sow, tend and reap; fight, toil and weep Your Household’s farms and lands are very important and must be looked after properly. Listen to the Landkeepers, they know more about the land than anybody else, and can tell you all kinds of interesting things about it.
- The land sees all. Never tell lies and always speak up if something is wrong.
- Strong seeds, strong crops, strong land Doing something well is more important than doing it quickly. Always do the best job you can.