In Setting Scholarship

The Order of the Darwish

From the Encyclopedia Royalis Iurraka (edition of 975)

On the Order of the Darwish

The Order of the Darwish is a monastic fraternity devoted to the One God, whose origins lie in the exodus of ascetics and mystics from the Caliphate of Ruhm. Persecuted for their belief that divine unity is found through duty, love and service rather than conquest, they fled across Aqaba and Hrazdan before eventually finding refuge in Iurrak.

In the reign of King Hugo I (19658–19705 AC), the fraternity was granted lands near Erythrae and recognised as a religious order under royal protection. In return, the Darwish vowed lifelong service to the Crown, providing its most trusted guardian who are sworn to defend the lives of members or House de Seyssel with their lives.

Their discipline combines prayer, austerity, and bladecraft in a practice they call the Path of the Sword and the Soul. Though few in number, they are revered throughout Iurrak for their piety and skill. Members serve as bodyguards, embodying the principle that selfless duty is an expression of their faith.

Today, their leader bears the title of Most Penitent Servant, they play no part in court, but any child born to the de Seyssel line is a assigned a body guard from their ranks who serves as long as he is physically able and is replaced if by the order if necessary. The Order remains withdrawn from worldly affairs, but its members are a familiar sight at Seyssel Hall.

This post is companion to the page about the Darwish

The Royal Customs Service of Iurrak

This is linked to this Vatan Companion Page

From the Encyclopedia Royalis Iurraka (edition of 975)

On the Royal Customs Service

The Royal Customs Service is one of the Crown’s most indispensable instruments, tasked with the oversight of trade, the collection of the Royal Tax, and the maintenance of His Majesty’s economic authority throughout the realm. Its duties, set down by wise kings, are both noble and necessary, and its history testifies to the foresight of Iurrak’s sovereigns.

The Service owes its foundation to the foresight of King Gabriel I, who in the year 601 not only instituted the Customs Service but also concluded the Peace of Equals with Selinus, bringing an end to eighty years of war and thus securing both the realm’s borders and its prosperity. To him we owe the enduring principle that the King’s justice must extend to the realm’s markets as well as its fields. Gabriel’s genius lay in recognising that trade, left ungoverned, breeds disorder, but under royal supervision strengthens the whole kingdom.

The later wisdom of King Humphrey I must also be praised. In 718, when the treasury lay in peril, Humphrey decreed that the sale of commissions in the Royal Regiments be entrusted to the Customs Service. By this act he avoided the imposition of extraordinary taxes upon his loyal nobles, while at the same time replenishing the Crown’s coffers. Though some grumbled at first, it was a masterstroke of statesmanship, for the lords maintained their privileges while the regiments were strengthened. The realm, preserved from weakness, owes to King Humphrey I its continued stability.

The Royal Tax, unlike feudal dues or manorial levies, is laid chiefly upon dense and precious goods: metals, spices, dyes, and other wares whose transport yields great wealth in small measure. The Customs Service patrols borders, rivers, and roads with diligence, ensuring that His Majesty receives his rightful due. To evade such duty is not merely theft but treason against the Crown, for the Royal Tax is the very lifeblood of the kingdom.

Beyond their fiscal duties, the officers of Customs provide the Crown with knowledge of inestimable worth. By observing the flow of goods, they reveal the strengths and weaknesses of provinces, the fortunes of merchants, and the health of the realm itself. In war as in peace, this intelligence has allowed kings to act with foresight. It is no exaggeration to say that without the Customs Service, the realm would be blind to its own condition.

The officers of the Service are for the most part of common birth, yet drawn from the younger sons of wealthy merchants, men of education and sound judgment. This prudent practice ensures that they have both the learning and the practical familiarity with commerce to perform their duties well. It is true that their inspections sometimes cause friction with nobles, yet this is an unavoidable consequence of enforcing the King’s law impartially. Only in Erythrae do nobles hold regular office within the Service, and there only at the highest levels. The post of Lord High Customs Inspector is wisely reserved for lesser royal kinsmen, ensuring that the Service remains ever faithful to the Crown.

Lastly, the Customs Service holds the honour of administering the commissions in the royal regiments. This sacred duty binds the realm’s soldiery directly to the King’s authority, ensuring loyalty and discipline. Though some lords lament their exclusion from this process, it must be remembered that it is by this very means that the Crown ensures the unity of its armies, sparing the kingdom the rivalries that have so often plagued lesser realms.

The Royal Customs Service, founded by Gabriel I and perfected by Humphrey I, stands as a monument to royal wisdom. To question it is to question the Crown itself, and none but the most self-interested could deny the Service’s necessity. It is, in every sense, a pillar of order and the surest guarantee of the prosperity of Iurrak.

The Right to Bear Arms

This page accompanies this Vatan Companion Page

From the Encyclopedia Royalis Iurraka (edition of 975)

On the Right to Bear Arms

The following is excerpted from the writings of Annette de Baerle (801–864), last Marchioness of the Westmarch. Though her marriage to Ivan de Duilhac, Duke of Taladaria, brought the Westmarch formally into Iurrak, she is remembered less for her politics than for her curious and unseemly devotion to letters. That a woman should concern herself with law is, of course, peculiar and hardly worthy of imitation. Some have wondered whether parts of this treatise were corrected, or perhaps composed, by a more suitable hand. Yet it must be admitted, reluctantly, that the work is suspiciously thorough and disquietingly accurate. For this reason it is preserved here, though with due caution to the reader.

The Right to Bear Arms is among the two central privileges of noble station, together with the Right to Hospitality. It is an ancient principle, older than any charter still extant, and its origin lies in the codifications of the ancestor realms that preceded Selinus. From that time it has been observed in Mur, in Selinus, in Iurrak, and even further abroad. It is worth noting that neither the Elves nor the Dwarves share our concept of the Armsright, to such an extent that it is treated instead as a general right. This creates a legal conundrum: is it to be judged that all elves and dwarves are issued an Armsright by their sovereign, or none?

The principle itself is plain. The right to violence belongs first to the sovereign. From the sovereign flows the same right to his nobles, who are but the extensions of his own person. Thus only nobles may wield weapons in their own name, as their authority is inherent. All others must bear arms only by the express leave of a noble, their authority deferred. In this lies the difference between noble and commoner; one acts as a font of justice, the other only by delegation. The author notes, however, with some satisfaction, that this right is so central to our concept of nobility that it is still completely inalienable from women. Indeed, in Selinus where our rights are otherwise few, a noble woman may wield any weapon without a male’s consent and may also arm her own guards. Yet if her guards are to operate beyond her direct presence, she must be able to write, something that is sadly not universal in the education of Selinan noble ladies.

This distinction carries into law. A noble who slays a commoner seldom meets with punishment. In Iurrak, the dead man’s kin may seek compensation, though in practice they must often do so before the court of the very noble who did the slaying, as the court of a more senior lord is unlikely to be accessible. In Selinus no such petitions are heard, save where another noble takes exception for his own purposes. In Mur the practice lies midway, for compensation may be demanded, yet only in the court of the lord who granted the Armsright in question. Where nobles stand opposed to nobles, the judgment lies with the next higher lord, often the King himself.

From this follows that heraldry and Armsrights are closely related. A noble may bear arms without device, for his person itself is heraldry. Commoners, however, must display the arms of the lord who authorises their bearing. To act otherwise is an act of banditry or rebellion.

The penalties for unlawful bearing of arms are grave. Impersonation of a noble is punishable by the full measure of treason, namely hanging, drawing, and quartering. More commonly, failure to prove an Armsright is usually treated more lightly, resulting in a fine and perhaps confiscation, depending on the mood of the constable. More severe still is the crime of raising arms against the realm, which is adjudged by summary execution and is the fate generally served to bandits and the like. The same transgression can thus be made as grave as a noble or his constables choose. It must be noted that the financial incentive of a fine has been known to keep many a bandit alive where this was not in the best interests of a lord’s domain.

Yet the law does not forbid mere possession of weapons. Only when they are borne in readiness to strike does the crime arise. A sword hung upon the wall may be innocent, while the same sword at the belt may be treason. Interpretation is ever at the whim of the officer, which is both the strength and the weakness of the law.

Thus it may be seen that the Right to Bear Arms is no mere form, but a central pillar of sovereignty. It distinguishes the noble from the subject, and the ruler from the ruled. Without it, there is no order but only anarchy, where each man may wield violence for himself.

De Baerle’s conclusions are expressed with a clarity, rigor and intelligence impossible for a woman. Impossible! The very suggestion that a lady of noble birth, barely trained in letters, could produce such a work unaided is laughable. No, no, a learned man must have written this, or at the very least guided her hand. The strange satisfaction expressed in the second paragraph betrays the feminine touch, but the rest is far too sound to be hers. I will not, cannot, accept that such scholarship came from a woman. Yet my colleagues, blinded by novelty, have forced me to include it here under her name. Readers are advised to apply proper skepticism.

Marginal note, by Zorthen Linhad (date unknown), in the Encyclopedia copy in the library at Castle Peyrepertuse
I cannot allow this nonsense to stand. I stayed with the Duke and Duchess of Taladaria for several months in the 840s and 850s, owing to my mother, Qaya, of the earth-elven House Linhad and her bond with House de Baerle. I spent many an engaging evening in conversation with the Duchess. She was a scholar of rare brilliance, sharp of wit and precise in judgment. She was her husband’s most important advisor and presided over the Duke’s Court in her husband’s stead the majority of the time. The treatise above is entirely hers, word for word, sprung from her mind and hand alone. The buffoon who edited this work proclaims only his own ignorance.

Zorthen Linhad, half brother of Maximilien de Baerle, Duchess Annette’s great-great-grandfather.

The Coronation of Alagariel the Great

An excerpt from the scroll ‘The Mysterious Alagariel’ (volume III) by Thyus Saeedi, Court Historian to Jahan II, Shah of Susahnia, written circa 17850.

Though scholars know almost nothing of the coronation of Queen Alagariel, it is central to the history of Vatan and therefore ought to be scrutinised. Everyone born in Taldyr, be they humans, elves or dwarves grow up with tales of Alagariel’s victory over ‘evil’; whatever that may be. Whether she existed or not, or whether any of it actually happened is not greatly relevant to the influence her tale has had on Taldyr’s history.

Despite that, I remain most interested how much of Alagariel’s tale is based in historical fact. Sadly, I was born to the wrong species to have full access to all scholarly works that may exist on the subject. While the elves have not made any special effort to thwart my investigations, very few of them have been interested in helping me navigate their archives. Mostly they do not ever bother to suggest where I might continue my search, as if they are counting on my shorter lifespan to thwart my efforts to make significant progress. The elves seem to be engaged in a process of obfuscation through delay that has been most frustrating during my life. In that light, I have made certain that this document will only be published after my death.

Unfortunately, I need what few elves have been forthcoming greatly and it will not help my subject of study if I alienate them. That said, scholars should be aware that I feel obliged to conclude that the elves do make an effort to keep the actual historical details of Queen Alagariel as murky as possible. Despite many decades devoted to studying thia subject, I have never discovered why they are so reticent to allow access to their libraries.

Having made that as clear as possible, I will continue with the substance of my investigation. The logical place to start, in the sense that it is probably the least controversial historical event, is, in my opinion, the Crowning of Alagariel. To begin with, we should look at the dating of this event. Logically, this would be in year one of the elven calendar. Even this is problematic however, unless she was crowned on the 1st of Wittenarde. If she was crowned later in the year, what year number did the rest of the year have? It is the same problem as the Selinan Kings have with their dating system of course, but it bears mentioning that even this is not known for certain.

I would propose, that the elven Bailiu, the day they traditionally confirm their High Kings and Queens is a strong clue that she too was crowned on that day of the year, which we humans call the 29th of Kaldmeer. This date is only present evert fourth year, of course. This is, predicated on the presumption that we have been using the same calendar for near to twenty millennia. On this point, the elves are more forthcoming, claiming that this much, at least, is certain.

So, what else can be said with any degree of certainty about her coronation? From elven sources, it seems likely that she was active for a long time – even in elven terms – before her coronation. We are speaking of centuries and a single elven bundle of poetry I have studied even suggests a number of three millennia. This is unlikely to be true as she is said to have passed on on 1st of Languise 1201. Twelve hundred years is already a respectable age for an elf, even a fire elf, let alone that she was 4200 years old. It can not be wholly discounted of course as she was also claimed to be a great Magister, but 4200 years certainly seems to be pushing credibility, even for a sorceress of her purported might. She was presumably extraordinary enough, in some way at least, to inspire us to still speak of her twenty millinnia later, but there is no real evidence to suggest that the story we tell of her is literal truth.

What more do we know? The location of her Coronation is also not unequivocally clear from ancient writings. It does not help that Taldyr’s geography was substantially different twenty thousand years ago, with different sea levels and drainage patterns. I have found references to ‘Difayakwininos’ spelled in a multitude of different ways, which translates to ‘The House of the Queen’ from an obscure elven dialect. It means little, though it was used to refer specifically to the region in the vicinity of what is now probably the Westmarch or Sheffield. This too is unlikely as the Kingdom of Fire itself is not terribly far from there and that is surely a more likely location for the Coronation to have taken place. It’s more likely that another Queen had holdings in or around that area and the two are unrelated.

What then, can we learn of this influential and mysterious historical figure’s Coronation? Sadly the answer is ‘not much’, but the simplest explanation is that there was a High Queen of the Elves named Alagariel I and that she was a Magister and that she lived a very long life. If she was active, for instance for three centuries before her Coronation, she passed on at the staggering age of 1500, give or take a few years. Presumably she was Crowned somewhere in the Land of Fire and it’s also likely she was very important in some way, since whatever Monarchs preceded her have been lost to history. Perhaps, she was a great unifier, as my lord’s esteemed ancestor Shahan the First was for the tribes surrounding what is now Greater Susahnia. All these things are the most logical explanations for her reign and seem a sensible set of working assumptions in the absence of more specific historical works and scholarship.

These, admittedly rather sparse, conclusions are the only things which I feel are certain or logical enough to use as a basis for my further research. It is not much, but it may be enough to bring some logical context to other, even more poorly described, events that too place in Alagariel’s time.