Lakes of Blood and Ash
Gossamer Stockade: Obsidian Wave
Obsidian Wave is said to be a Fae from the far south, having journeyed to this area of Creation seeking eternal conflict and a greater density of humanity. The blackened timbers of the palisade resist flame and when the dark shadow of Obsidian separates from the forest gloom, the fire rises and turns outward to sweep over those who set them. This has given the Linowa no end of trouble, their preferred strategy failing against the stockade and costing them no end of casualties. Those who have visited the Stockade how witnessed upon Obsidian in two primary locations.
It spends large spans of time in a palace of stone in a blackened glade attended by sweaty, willing mortals. A training yard exists here and a fiery forge drawn up from the either itself, Obsidian attends both. Bringing his stony hand down on dream and stone to fashion tools of death and sparring with his favored in the yard and his chambers. When not here, Obsidian attends the great arena of his companion. Here he bouts with Plestara’s champions, beasts, behemoths, and Plestara himself. Each has held the title of champion dozens of times and redouble their efforts after a loss. Beings from across Creation travel to Plestara’s Arena to view the bouts, some of the most awe inspiring and titanic in Creation.
The many tribes of the lands that would become Gossamer Stockade were and still are subjected to attack by both Halta and Linowa. A buffer state with only the suspicion of both the great nations, the people hid and fought in equal measure. Countless small shadowlands turned the forest into haunted swamps teaming with the hungry dead. The rage of the elementals manifested in strangling vines and poisoned barbs, sucking mires, and the spread of sickness.
Then they came. Monsters to be sure, the denizens of the land charged out and fought them, the beasts bested them, but spared their lives. Pressed them to join under their banner and fight in their shadow, as they spread it over hundreds of miles of forest and set about shaping the trees into dense walls with their fae magic, clearing paths and banishing disease. The people did not have a chance, their saviors crowned themselves lords over the Gossamer Stockade.
The Fae nobles spoke of how their power needed constant replenishment, joys and entertainment, to buoy them up to tear down the many troubles of the region. They decreed a tax of dreams, given gladly, they demanded a tariff of the same that could not be refused.
Generations of mortals have grown old and died now. Halta is wary of the region, Fae outside the pact who have constructed a fortified position that might attract other Fae from the Wyld. The Linowa view them as another barrier between them and Halta and frequently launch raids in the months of fire to try burning away the domain. The other Fae are largely disgusted in them keeping humans as pets rather than hunting their prey. The humans of the Stockade themselves have grown accustomed. The weak are content to tithe their dreams. The strong join their lords bedecked in gossamer gifts and terrible auras.