Rookery Isles
The war ended three years ago. The rubble still smokes. The graves are still fresh. And for the first time in the entire history of the Rookery Isles, there is a chance for one ruler to control it all.
🔥 The Great War What Was Lost
"Ten years. Ten years of fire falling from the sky. Ten years of watching everything burn. And now they tell us to rebuild, to forgive, to move forward. But when I close my eyes, I still see the dragons."
Ten years. That is how long Rhaenor Mudae's dragons burned the world. Ten years of shadow riders descending on villages at dawn. Ten years of cities reduced to ash and bone. Ten years of children growing up knowing nothing but the sound of wings and the smell of smoke.
The destruction was absolute. Entire regions were scorched to bare rock. The great library of Azurath lost wings that will never be recovered. Frosthold's outer walls still show the black marks of dragon breath. The farmlands of Thaloria once called the Golden Fields are now the Ashen Plains, where nothing grows and mass graves stretch to the horizon. Marinia lost half its fleet in a single night when dragons descended on the harbor. In some villages, there are no survivors to bury the dead.
The war ended only three years ago. This is not ancient history. This is yesterday. The widows still wear black. The orphans still wake screaming. The veterans walk the streets with hollow eyes, flinching at loud noises. Cities are still being rebuilt some will never be rebuilt. In the countryside, there simply aren't enough farmers left to work the fields. Famine stalks the land. Entire bloodlines have been erased. The Isles lost nearly a third of their population to fire, sword, and the starvation that followed.
And House Mudae? They did this. Every burned child, every slaughtered village, every year of terror that is their legacy. The hatred is not political. It is personal. Almost everyone in the Isles lost someone to dragon fire. The scars are not healing. They are festering.
"My daughter was seven when the shadow riders came. I found her bones in the ashes of our home three days later. And now they want me to sit at a table with a Mudae and call it peace? There is no peace. There is only waiting."
🏛️ A New World Order Unprecedented Power
⚡ First Time in History
Before the Celestials appeared, there was no unified Rookery Isles. Each nation ruled itself. Each house answered to no one beyond their borders. The very IDEA of a single ruler over all the Isles was a fantasy or a tyrant's dream. This political structure is entirely new. Born from ash. Created by divine beings who watched mortals nearly destroy themselves. No one alive has ever lived under unified rule. No one knows if it will last. And EVERYONE every ambitious lord, every scheming house, every survivor who wants to ensure their suffering meant something is scrambling to control it.
How Power Flows in the Rookery Isles
The Celestials ended the war. They bent every house to the knee. And they created something that never existed before: a single seat of power over ALL the Isles. Understanding this structure is essential because for the first time in history, the prize is control of EVERYTHING.
They ended the war. When the mortal houses could not stop Rhaenor's dragons, when all seemed lost, the Celestials intervened. They broke the tyrant's power. They bent every surviving house to the knee. And they created this entire political structure from nothing. Everything that exists now the Regent, the Hand, the Council exists because THEY willed it.
Their rule is absolute but distant. They intervene only when mortal decisions threaten the realm's balance. But never forget: they MADE this system. They can unmake anyone in it. Insult them, threaten what they've built, risk another war? They will act. And when Celestials act, it is final.
Once the Small Council elects a Regent, that person becomes THE ruler of the mortal realm. Not a figurehead. Not a advisor. The RULER. The Council that elected them must now OBEY them. The Regent commands armies, controls trade, mediates disputes between houses, grants favor, and strips titles. Their word is law for all mortal affairs. Displease them, and your house may find itself sanctioned, isolated, or destroyed. Please them, and you may rise to heights you never imagined.
But the Regent walks a tightrope. They rule mortals but they serve at the Celestials' pleasure. A Regent who harms the Hand insults the Celestials' voice. A Regent who makes catastrophic decisions invites divine scrutiny. A Regent who forgets who TRULY holds ultimate power will find themselves removed one way or another. The wise Regent manages both: ruling mortals firmly while never giving Ashley and Trystane reason to intervene. Those who cannot balance both... do not remain Regent for long.
Appointed directly by the Celestial Court. The Hand runs Council meetings, speaks with celestial authority, and serves as the bridge between divine will and mortal governance. While the Hand must follow the Regent's rule on mortal matters, they carry protection as the Celestials' voice harming or disrespecting the Hand is seen as an insult to Ashley and Trystane themselves.
A wise Regent works closely with their Hand, recognizing the value of celestial favor. A foolish Regent makes an enemy of them and learns why that was a fatal mistake.
These positions advise the realm and most critically ELECT the Regent. Each seat carries immense influence: the Spymaster controls secrets, the Marshal commands armies, the Seneschal manages infrastructure, the Grand Seer interprets prophecy. Anyone from any house can be appointed. Once you hold a seat, houses will scheme, bribe, threaten, and seduce to earn your vote. Lose the celestials' favor? Lose your seat.
⚠️ The Feeding Frenzy
Every house sees the opportunity. For the first time in the entire history of the Isles, one ruler could control EVERYTHING. The Regent seat is the ultimate prize unprecedented, unimaginable, and sitting there VACANT. Old rivals are making temporary alliances. Enemies are smiling at each other across feast halls. Marriages are being negotiated. Assassins are being hired. Everyone is positioning, calculating, preparing to make their move.
The war ended three years ago. The battle for who rules the peace? That has only just begun.
👑 The Celestial Court
👑 Queen Ashley "Ashember" Love
Ashley, known widely as Ashember, is the Phoenix Queen of Suncoast and co-ruler of the Celestial Court. Born of celestial origins, she once served the Egyptian sun god Ra before being transformed into a guardian of humanity. Her compassion, wisdom, and divine nature guided the Isles through the devastating Great War against Rhaenor Mudae's tyranny.
She now rules alongside her soulmate, King Trystane, as the beloved monarch of a unified realm. To her people, she symbolizes hope, rebirth, and the promise that even the darkest night will end. Her authority is absolute, but she rules with mercy intervening in mortal affairs only when the balance of the realm demands it.
"I saw her once, at the Battle of Dragonspine. Dragon fire washed over her like water over stone. She didn't even flinch. That's when I knew we weren't following a queen. We were following something else entirely."
⚜️ King Trystane Love
King Trystane Love, Ashley's steadfast partner and co-ruler of the Celestial Court, originated as a being formed from primordial chaos. Sent to understand humanity, he journeyed through countless lifetimes before meeting Ashley. Where she embodies rebirth and hope, he represents endurance and transformation.
Together, they brought unity and healing after the Great War, ruling the Isles with a balance of wisdom, courage, and profound empathy. Trystane embodies calm strength the eye of the storm, the anchor in chaos. His judgments are considered final, his mercy earned rather than expected.
"The Queen burns bright, but the King? The King watches. My grandfather says Trystane remembers everything every promise, every betrayal, every debt. Cross him once, and he might forgive. Cross him twice, and your grandchildren will still be paying for it."
✨ Archangel Cedric Gabriel
Cedric Gabriel is an ancient Archangel chosen by the gods to eternally guard the Rookery Isles. Known throughout history as the Silent Guardian, his radiant presence inspires courage among allies and strikes fear into the hearts of enemies. He does not speak often but when he does, realms listen.
Cedric was instrumental during the Great War, standing with Ashley and Trystane in the final battles against Rhaenor's tyranny. Dragons fell before his blade. Shadow riders fled his light. He remains a vigilant protector, dedicated to safeguarding the Isles' peace. To threaten the realm is to invite his attention and few survive it.
"You want to know if the stories are true? I watched him walk through a wall of dragon fire like it was morning mist. I watched him cut down twelve shadow riders before they could scream. He never said a word. Never changed expression. And when it was done, he just... walked away. Like it was nothing. Like WE were nothing. That's when I stopped praying to the old gods. Why bother? The Archangel is real, and he's right there."
🎯 Positions of Power The Game Awaits
⚔️ The Regent VACANT
The throne of mortal power sits empty, awaiting one bold enough to claim it and cunning enough to keep it.
The Regent rules the Isles in the Celestials' stead. They command campaigns, control trade, mediate disputes between houses, grant favor, impose sanctions, and strip titles. Once elected by the Small Council, even those who voted against them must bow to their authority. This is THE position worth killing for.
The seat may be held by one person (The Regent, Lord Regent, Lady Regent) or a ruling couple (The Regents, Lord and Lady Regent). However you claim it, however you hold it this is the prize every ambitious house dreams of.
⚠️ The Price of the Crown
But understand: the Regent is not a god. They rule mortals, but they serve at the Celestials' pleasure. Harm the Hand the Celestials' voice and invite divine wrath. Make decisions that threaten the realm's balance, and the Celestials will notice. Insult Queen Ashley or King Trystane, and discover how quickly a Regent can fall. The position demands a delicate balance: rule the mortals firmly, manage the Great Houses ruthlessly, BUT never forget who truly holds ultimate power. Those who master this balance become legendary. Those who fail become warnings.
Who will rise to take it? And more importantly who can hold it?
"Everyone's got a favorite for the Regency. Darkcliff has the gold. Emberwave has the knights. Dawnstar has the warriors. But you want my coin? Watch the quiet ones. Watch who's NOT making a play. That's the one who's already three moves ahead."
✋ The Hand VACANT
The Voice of the Celestials awaits appointment.
The Hand is appointed directly by Queen Ashley and King Trystane not elected, not earned through politics, but chosen by divine will. They run Council meetings, advise on appointments, and speak with the celestials' authority across the realm. Some say controlling The Hand is more valuable than being Regent because The Hand helps shape who becomes Regent next.
Critically, the Hand carries celestial protection. They are the voice of Ashley and Trystane in mortal affairs. To harm the Hand, to disrespect them, to work against them this is not merely political maneuvering. It is an insult to the Celestial Court itself. Regents who forget this lesson do not remain Regents.
A loyal Hand serves the realm faithfully. An ambitious Hand shapes its future. Either way, the position carries weight that few truly understand until they hold it or until they cross someone who does.
"The Regent rules the board. But the Hand? The Hand decides which pieces get to play. I'd rather have the Hand's ear than the Regent's favor any day. Regents come and go. The Hand speaks for beings who've been here since the beginning."
📜 The Small Council POSITIONS VACANT
The seats of power that elect the Regent remain unfilled for now.
- Spymaster: Controls information, secrets, and intelligence networks. Knows everything. Trusts no one.
- Seneschal: Manages infrastructure and daily operations of the realm. The one who keeps the lights on.
- Marshal: Commands military forces and strategic defense. War is their domain.
- Grand Seer: Mystical advisor, interpreter of prophecy and omens. Sees what others cannot.
Each seat is a stepping stone to greater power. Each vote in the Council election carries weight. Anyone from any house can be appointed if they can earn the Celestials' favor.
"Four seats. Four votes. That's all that stands between some ambitious lord and the Regency. You want to know why everyone's being so polite lately? Because no one knows who'll be sitting in those chairs. Could be your friend. Could be your enemy. Could be someone who remembers that insult you threw at their father ten years ago. Best be nice to everyone. Just in case."
🏰 Leaders of the Great Houses
🦋 Duchess Clara Darkcliff of Marinia
Duchess Clara Darkcliff rules the Maritime Admiralty of Marinia with a merchant's cunning and a sailor's steel. A master of diplomacy and commerce, she has built Marinia's trading fleets into the economic backbone of the Isles. Her ships carry goods and secrets to every port.
Clara's insight and loyalty to the Celestial Court have earned her immense respect among the Great Houses. She ensures economic prosperity flows through proper channels, and she remembers every slight, every debt, every promise made and broken. In the world of politics, gold is power and Clara controls more gold than most houses dream of.
"They call her the Butterfly. Pretty, delicate, harmless. That's what she wants you to think. I watched her smile at Lord Vance for six months straight. Sweetest thing you ever saw. Then his trade agreements fell apart, his allies stopped returning his ravens, and his shipping lanes mysteriously became 'unsafe.' He's selling fish in a market stall now. And Clara? Still smiling."
⚔️ The Jarl of Skjaldor
The frozen north answers to the Jarl a Norse-style king who rules through strength, honor, and the respect of the clan chieftains. Skjaldor is not a land of soft politics and whispered schemes. Here, a leader earns their seat through deeds, and keeps it through iron will.
The Jarl commands the five great clans: Stormrider (Cavalry Masters), Ironshield (Smiths & Defenders), Frostwolf (Survivalists & Hunters), Seastrider (Sailors & Raiders), and Skybreaker (Aerial Riders). Each clan has its own traditions, but all answer the Jarl's call to battle. In Skjaldor, they do not play the southern games of politics they settle matters with axe and honor.
"Southern lords talk about the north like we're savages. Fine. Let them talk. When Rhaenor's dragons came, those same southern lords were hiding behind their walls, begging for terms. The Jarl? The Jarl strapped on his axe and walked out to meet them. Frosthold held for three years. THREE YEARS. So yes, call us savages. We're the savages who taught the dragon lord that some walls don't break."
🦅 The High Druid of Drakoria
The High Druid leads House Skyrider from the mountain aeries of Drakoria, where the ancient bond between rider and beast remains sacred. This is the nation of druids beast masters who soar on griffons, pegasi, and giant eagles, communing with nature's deepest magics.
During the Dark Age, Rhaenor Mudae forced Drakoria's druids into horrific breeding experiments, twisting dragons into monstrous weapons. This stain on their honor haunts them still. The High Druid works tirelessly to restore the sacred traditions and cleanse the corruption of those dark years. Some say House Skyrider understands House Mudae's shame better than any and some say that understanding is dangerous.
"They don't talk about what happened in the mountains. Not the druids, not anyone who was there. But I've seen the things that still fly over the peaks at night twisted, wrong, screaming in voices that aren't animal or human. Rhaenor made the druids create those. Now the druids spend their nights hunting them down, one by one. It's penance, I think. For what they helped build. For what they couldn't stop."
📚 The Archmage of Azura
The Archmage of Azura leads the Council of Magi from the towering spires of Azurath, where magic is studied, structured, and jealously guarded. A scholar of unmatched intellect and arcane skill, the Archmage oversees Azura's famed magical academies and vast libraries of ancient knowledge.
During the Great War, Azura's magi played a critical role in defeating Rhaenor though some still whisper that they hid behind their magical barrier while others bled. The Archmage dismisses such criticism as the complaints of those who do not understand strategy. Today, Azura continues to unravel magical mysteries, safeguarding the Isles through wisdom, diplomacy, and spellcraft that can level cities.
"Oh, the mages helped win the war. Eventually. After they'd spent four years safe behind their pretty barrier while the rest of us burned. My brother died holding a bridge so refugees could escape to 'safety' except safety was Azura, and Azura had closed its gates. 'Strategic necessity,' they called it. My brother called it something else. Right before the dragonfire took him."
"They judge us for surviving. As if dying alongside them would have helped anyone. The barrier saved a hundred thousand lives. The magic we developed behind it killed Rhaenor's dragons by the score. But does anyone thank us? No. They remember the gates we closed, not the war we won."
🐉 The Fallen House Mudae
⚠️ A House Despised The Unforgiven
For ten years, House Mudae's dragons burned the world. Shadow riders descended at dawn. Cities became tombs. A generation of children knew nothing but fire and fear. The war ended only three years ago. The graves are still fresh. The orphans are still children. The widows still wear black.
House Mudae is not simply unpopular they are hated with a fury that borders on religious. Almost everyone in the Isles lost someone to dragon fire. To wear the Mudae name is to wear the blood of thousands. Some houses refuse to acknowledge them. Others actively work toward their extinction. Choosing House Mudae means choosing the hardest path imaginable redemption in a world that wants you dead, surrounded by people who remember exactly what your family did to theirs.
🐉 Prince Lucaemion Mudae
Prince Lucaemion Mudae is the youngest son of the fallen tyrant Rhaenor Mudae the Dragon Lord whose shadow riders burned cities for a decade, whose cruelty united the realm against him, whose name is still cursed in every tavern and temple across the Isles.
Despite his lineage, Lucaemion turned against his father's tyranny. Whether out of honor, revenge, or naked ambition, he helped cause Rhaenor's downfall during the Great War. The debates about his true motives continue to this day was he a hero, or simply the smartest rat fleeing a sinking ship? Afterward, Lucaemion humbly pledged himself to House Sunspear, seeking redemption for crimes he did not commit but whose legacy he cannot escape.
He works to restore honor to House Mudae and reclaim the noble traditions of dragon riding traditions that existed before his father corrupted them. But the road is long, the hatred is deep, and many would rather see the last Mudae dead than redeemed. Three years is not enough time to forget. Some wounds never heal.
Is redemption possible for a name soaked in blood? That question will be answered in the choices made, the alliances forged, and the enemies overcome. House Mudae's story is not finished but it will be written in fire, one way or another.
"Lucaemion turned on his own father. His own FATHER. Some call that heroic. I call it practical. The boy saw which way the wind was blowing and made sure he was on the winning side when the fire stopped. Hero? Maybe. Survivor? Definitely. Trustworthy? Ask me again in ten years. If he lives that long."
"I don't care what he did at Dragonspine. I don't care that he helped kill his father. My wife burned. My children burned. They burned screaming, and Mudae dragons did it. You want me to shake his hand? To call him 'redeemed'? The Celestials can grant all the mercy they want. I grant none."
"I served with Lucaemion at the end. Fought beside him at the Peak. He didn't have to be there. Could have stayed behind, stayed safe, let others kill his father. Instead he climbed that mountain with the rest of us. Bled with us. And when the moment came... he didn't hesitate. I'm not saying forgive House Mudae. I'm saying that boy earned something. What, I don't know. But something."
The war ended three years ago. The world is still burning. And for the first time in history, someone will rule it all.
The seats of power sit vacant. The feeding frenzy has begun. Every friendship is a potential alliance. Every enemy is a potential grave. Every choice echoes across a realm that is watching, waiting, remembering.
Rise wisely. Or fall forgotten among the ashes.