There is no certainty as to when these islands were first inhabited. Some old legends say that the gods raised the islands up out of the waters for there own purposes many hundreds of centuries ago; some say that the people of the sea claimed the islands of old and used them to imprison criminals on the unforgiving land. Certainly Korima shows traces of ancient settlements; in the marshes on the southern coast can be found old stones with strange carvings on them, worn away by time, but even so recognizable as no language now known to anyone I have questioned. A sample of the characters which appears on two different stones is shown here. The dwarves claim to have found long-buried tools and arcane items in their foraging when they first came to these islands, but these have been traded away long ago. It is also said that the town of Korim was built on and from the ruin of an ancient city. Certainly there are many odd-colored stones in that area that have been used in the construction of some of the older houses, but not so numerous that they might not have been ferried there by one ship in the recent past. Certainly the sea climate has obliterated any inscriptions that might have been present . Torath presents the best evidence of an ancient civilization – a set of ruins resembling in outline a small fortified palace or large mansion. However the elves who live on this island are extremely averse to digging around in these ruins, as they are the focal point to a local religion about which I confess to be in two minds. All three races on these islands believe that the palace belonged to a great and holy man (or, in some variants, elf) who was set the task of protecting this part of the world from the forces of unlife. According to the legends, he performed his task faithfully for many decades until a horde of undead were sent out that he saw he could not overcome. Although he would have been safe, the knowledge that his charges would die led him to a great self-sacrifice. He asked that he become undead; with power beyond that of the leader of his enemies, and so be able to wrest control of the hordes from that prince of darkness. This prayer was granted and the lands were saved.
Now this would be a pleasant enough tale, except that the locals believe that this paladin, TaKana Matar, still lives on in his undead form, protecting the islands and enriching them with his power. It is cetainly true that these islands are far more fertile and the sea far more prodcutive than my scientific knowledge would lead me to believe. Furthermore, although this lands sees at least its fair share of unlife (if not more!), it is rare that a local farmer or group of sailors is unable to put down a threat that in other lands would necessitate a paladin and several brave esquires.
If that were all, perhaps the tale could be dismissed, but the locals believe in this legend and its power to the extent that every eleven years, a mortal sacrifice is given by the high priest with the blessing of the people, so that the life-beyond-death of TaKana Matar might continue in strength unabated. I have talked with the current high priest and seen the sacrifice and it is clear that it has the full support of the people. The vicitim is given the high priests sword (An ancient blade with powerful magic that I can detect with my scrying spells from clear across the island), and impales him (or her) self, whereapon the body becomes like dust and is blown away. A feeling of calm and power is then pervasive around the islands for several weeks, and unlife appearances are much reduced for a year or so.
The legend concludes with a warning and a prediction. The warning is that the “Prince of the Undead” hates the islands and their faithful steward and ever waits for the guardians strength to fail or the sacrifices to stop so he may pour his armies in and destroy it all. The prediction is that one day from the folk of the islands will arise a band of heroes who will “sail sea, climb cliff, fight foe, ride rhae” and “cross the land of death”. They will battle a great lord of unlife which will lead to a long time of “peace and tranquility” for the islands – or even, possibly, all islands. As a result, “he who watches from the ruins” will have an end to his work and his soul will be free to journey to its glorious destiny.
I admit that the prediction would be much more comforting if my study of ancient high elven did not indicate that “peace and tranquility” might also be translsted “silence and lack of movement”. Like so many such predictions, there is no certainty of success for the posited heroes.
From legend to fact.
The elves, whose records are extant and clear, state that they used Torath as a place to replenish water and make repairs to their ships for at least seven centuries, but that it was only four centuries ago that they encountered a settled tribe on the northern islands. The northerners claimed to have been living there for hundreds of years already, but either they were mistaken or they had only recently started fishing, for the elves have no recollection of them before that point. By two centuries ago, the humans had spread over most of the northern lands and had established enough of a presence that a small elven community on the southern island was established by (allegedly) a group of elves who had fallen out of favor with the elven conclave. This community is centered on the elvish port of Pelior, and seems to have grown slowly to its present size of around 300 elves and a few humans.
The dwarven colony was founded about a century and a half ago by Threndalson Grunder, whose son had found the southern Korima beaches sand ideal for glassmaking, and the location on the elven trade route ideal for a solitary group of dwarves intent on making an excellent living. By all accounts, the dwarven village (which is fast becoming a joint dwarven/human town) is amassing a considerable fortune and to my knowledge a considerable quantity of quality alchemical equipment has been shipped to the village, which is called Nugrath by the humans (a corruption of the dwarven original Nyuzgraz).
The human town of Korim, which appears to be the oldest human settlement was followed by that of TaKanar only around 90 years ago as a concious effort of expansion. To the original small group of hamlets, slaughterhouse and mill was added, in short order, a church, a smithy and an inn, and several families were moved there with the financial help of the Korim Elders’ Circle. It appears the main motivation was to provide protection and safety from a particularly bad plague of unlife and so secure the constant availability of food staples from the area. The town is thriving and has seen immigration from other areas of the islands. The folk there are a little more isolated from the world even than their relatives in Korim, as they lie away from the sea trade routes, but are not as parochial as might be expected.
The only other notable settlement is the Crane monastery, which dates back either a thousand years, two hundred years or one hundred years, depending on how the question is asked. The whole is a long story, but in brief, the original monastery was located “far away on a remote mountaintop in a cold land” and founded a millenium ago. Two hundred years ago a human monk had a vision in which the destruction of the monastery was foretold, and he set out to found a new location, ending on Korima. He was laughed at by his co-religionists, but insisted for the next hundred years that Korima was the site of the new monastery and began construction of it. According to local stories, when the original monastery was destroyed a hundred years later and his brethren came to the new site, he laughed so loudly he choked and died. Whatever the truth of the matter, his body has been preserved and is still visible in the inner sanctum of the monastery.
Of other folk: Merfolk, or people of the sea as they are called locally have a colony off to the north-west. They have good relations with the islanders and have regulalry helped find lost boats and recovered the bodies of drowned villagers. There are tales of them saving landfolk from drowning, but since they frequent the shore areas favored by the fishers rarely, I put that down to charitable thinking. Less friendly is the inhabitant of the Wizard’s Tower – a tower built very cunningly from worked stone, that appears to have been dug from the ground by magic and laid into a castle shape by creatures of exceptional strength and reach. the locals claim it has always been there, but the elves declare with certainty that it was built within a year 55 years ago. Its sole and continuing inhabitant is a reclusive and somewhat paranoid sorceror who calls himself Mephisto, which not only sounds like a fake name for a hedge-illusionist, but he has also been known to add the epithet “mighty master of magics” to his name too. It is hard to take him seriously, although one does wonder how the tower was built and why he is hiding out in such a foresaken area.
Of the Unlife: As usual the appearance of unlif follows waves of activity. The islanders are generally very careful to burn their dead, or, in a few important cases, inter them with holy items of power and protection. The ever-present danger is loss at sea, and without the merfolk it is certain that the incidence of returned undead drowned sailors would be far greater and more devastating. Of course, not all deaths are found immediately and sometimes a lonely farmer or unlucky ranger will rise in unlife and have to be destroyed, but, as I have stated before, it seems that the locals are protected against them in some way and seem little troubled by undead incidents. Indeed, the killing of a family and the wounding of their neighbors a few years ago is still being spoken of in hushed tones. In teh average civilized province, such an occurance migh be a weekly trial!
In summary, the folk here are peaceful, interect well and benefit the common weal. The land is adequate for their needs and has room for the inhabitants to increase for at least another century at the present rate. There is little need for more government, and little benefit to any power who might feel the need to annex it. It is a quiet, rural location; no doubt satisfying for its locals, but of no great note.