CaladonIndex | Time Under Chaos | Concerning Amber | The Golden Circle | Caladon Head of State: None Caladon is a land destroyed. She sided with Amber, and suffered on account. The Shadow Trods are cut, the old treaties burned, her people scattered and homeless, and her name stricken from history as best Chaos is able. If any know whether the Shadow even yet exists, they are keeping their secret. Riding from Arden, the trees would turn to pines, the forest thin, and the air grow colder until one crossed into Caladon, a country of moors dotted with mountains and quiet lakes. When the sun shone, it was through clouds--Caladon was all gray and green, soft skies and unyielding ground. Nights, sometimes, the clouds would part, and the stars and Moon shine down. The Moon was important, for the inhabitants of Caladon were the weir. Under the light of their Shadow's Moon, they would take their wolf forms, and no weapon that was not silvered or enchanted could do them any lasting harm. The Caladonians prospered on their moors, building great keeps of the gray stone from the mountains, waging merry war upon rival clans, and attempting to do so on neighboring Variath, only to be soundly beaten when their would-be target appealed to Amber--a setback the weir took in cheerful stride as Eric, leading Amber's forces, beat them back step by bloody step. And that was Caladon's introduction to the wider world of Shadow. The only magic in the land was inherent in her people, and thus Caladon did not raise up sorcerors, but she bore masons, smiths, warriors, and bards aplenty. In the years after Amber had withdrawn, leaving treaties and stern warnings, the greatest of them gathered on the shores of Stavann, the Silent Lake, where the Three Clans had made peace with Amber, and there founded Aelsvard, which would grow to become the greatest (and, to be honest, only) city in the Shadow. No one is certain who first noticed that the weir, when they traveled to other Shadows, or to Amber, lost their dependence on moonlight and could shift forms at will, but it was Eric who took advantage of it. While Corwin was safely out of sight in Avalon and their rivalry banked to embers, he went among the clans and became their friend, and, gradually, their leader. Too wise to accept a crown (or too ambitious for a greater crown), Eric insisted upon being no more than first among equals, and they loved him for it, and for the legends of his first, warlike visit to Caladon. And then, when it was needful, Eric harvested the friendship he had so carefully cultivated. The weir came to him willingly to serve in his army, and it became no unusual sight to see the Prince followed by a gray-clothed soldier whose hair was shaggy and whose smile was predatory.... Then there came the War, and there was no question with whom the Caladonians would side. When the weir would not surrender before their advancing armies, Chaos burned the Shadow to the bare rock--though the moors were always green, the fires of Sorcery do not need dry grass to spread. In vengeance, in warning, the Shadowmasters blasted the very land away, and those few Caladonians who survived and escaped do not tell the tale. Harried and hated by the new Chaosian lords of Amber, some of the surviving weir drifted off into Shadow to live their lives, but many others have sided with Julian, and help to make Arden death for any unmoved by the memory of their late Lord, or Amber that was. Example weir soldier (9pts): Base item: Human Immense Vitality: 2pts |
