The nations involved with the Pony Wars are described herein.
Wars may be fought by people, but they are waged by nations. In these chapters are brief descriptions of the various countries and organizations involved in the Pony Wars.
These places and peoples are varied and complex, some following religious cults and some democratic ideals, some value wealth while others just want a homeland of their own. From the wave-wracked islands of the Hives to the frigid peaks of the Wyvernspine mountains, from the plains and forests of the Lumahina to the vast cities of the Sunbound, these are places the Ponies and other races call home. Some are wonderful, some harsh, all are about to be plunged into the largest conflict their world has ever known.
What follows is not a traditional narrative, but there is a story to be told. It is intended as a primer for those who wish to create their own stories set within the Pony Wars setting. Those who do should submit their stories to the Pony Wars CCG group. The authors of stories the creators like most may be invited to help create a card based on that story.
Each chapter will cover one culture, nation, or significant location. The histories and lives of individual characters is covered in another fimfiction story: Dramatis Personae of the Pony Wars
There is a saying among the Ponies, “history is almost as old as Lumahina.” There is much truth to the statement. The city of Lumahina has been inhabited for so long that there are no records of when or how it was founded. Perhaps the story is written somewhere in an archive long forgotten, but no one knows for sure.
What is known is why the city was founded where it is. At the settlement’s heart stands an immense and extraordinary tree, hundreds of meters wide and high and ages-old uncounted. It has thrived for eons, growing steadily and strongly just as the Empire around it did. Hidden within the incredible trunk is a temple, a Nexus Temple. The energy within had sustained the tree since long before any Pony was there to see it. The founders of Lumahina knew the tree was valuable and unique and settled down around it.
Those who knew what to look for saw the Nexus’s magic and how it affected the tree and studied that power. Just as the tree drew eternal life from the Nexus, so too could the Pony spellcasters. In time they learned to duplicate the effect to some degree, extending their lives for decades or longer. Over the very long generations, they learned to refine and improve upon the magic until they could sustain life for as long as they so chose.
These were the first immortal monarchs of Lumahina. To their closest supporters, they gave the boon of prolonged life, often centuries, so they could serve and support for longer. When the eldest monarch grew tired of managing the growing Empire, he turned it over to his daughter and retired to a sprawling palace constructed in the very branches of the tree of souls. Many years later, she gave the crown to her son, and then he did the same. On and on down through the centuries this went.
It is by no accident that the rulers are known as Princes and Princesses. Those who left the details of the Empire to their heirs still commanded great respect and control of the magic that grants extended life. Often they would provide advice and suggestions to the ones who handled the day-to-day activity of the government. When these “suggestions” were not followed by the heirs, they were encouraged to change their minds by withholding the gift of longevity and immortality until they cooperated. By this means, the Immortal Council retained power throughout the centuries.
Although the immortality spells were closely guarded secrets, they were also used to reward highly valued servants and supporters. This resulted in an upper class of extremely long-lived aristocrats and wealthy merchant lords. Those beneath them on the social ladder had no means of upward mobility aside from trying to gain the attention of those above them. Even worse for those lower classes, most of them were unaware of the immortality magic in the first place. From their perspective, the upper class and nobility simply lived much longer or never died at all, as they always had.
The approach of “this is how it’s always been” was pervasive in the culture. For untold generations, the populace was watched over and ruled by the same figures. Rituals and festivals remained unchanged when they were overseen by the same people year after year after decade and century. Once the nation was old enough and its history firmly established, if someone wanted an answer to a question about the distant past, they could ask someone who was there. Change came slowly, if at all. After all, it’s always been this way; why would it be otherwise?
One consequence of such long life was that those with the power to gather wealth to themselves kept that wealth. The rich became more affluent, and as they rarely died, their wealth remained their wealth. Entire cities would fall under the control of a single individual who would determine what the citizens would do and pocket much of the resulting profit. They would then patronize individual families to provide specific services, which would pass these skills down to future generations. The result is that many lineages of woodworkers, artists, engineers, teachers, blacksmiths, servants, or any other trade can trace their origins many generations past, often to the same individual that still pays them.
Managing an entire city by one’s self is tiresome and time-consuming. Grain needed to be distributed, workers assigned to tasks, thousands of tons of stone and lumber needed to be hauled from one end of the Empire to the other. Most of the nobles found it too much work and assigned administrators to handle specific tasks or industries, patronizing this new administrative citizenry like any other skilled family. This new management caste quickly became indispensable, taking all the little details and jobs the aristocracy simply no longer cared about. Although few of them understand exactly how important they actually are, the Empire would crumble into anarchy overnight without them.
As the Empire expanded, the cities and settlements under its flag sent much material wealth back to the capital. The city is old now, probably the oldest continually settled location anywhere in the world, but it doesn’t look the part. Ancient buildings were torn down and replaced with better, larger, more spectacular ones. The immense economic power of the Empire, all flowing back to one point, has made it fabulously beautiful and elaborate. All the various noble and wealthy have long since built up homes and public works in marble and polished stone spires. Extensive private gardens and public parks filled with trees provide the illusion that much of the area is still forested. The city practically sparkles in the sunset light between the canopies.
Despite the staggering wealth inequality, there’s isn’t actually much of a slum district within the capital. Those without patrons quickly get pressed into service and sent somewhere else or have already been long established. Even those poor ordinary ponies live in relative comfort, their patronizing nobles having built them suitable accommodations generations ago. Sometimes this was out of altruism, but more often due to simply not wanting to have ugly buildings to look at and plenty of money to waste on it. It was not uncommon for some rich noble to mock another for not being rich enough to afford suitable housing for their servants and underlings, and they might improve those buildings out of spite against the one taunting them.
Because of the glamor of Lumahina, its many territories have long sought to emulate it. The incredibly ancient nobles have adopted the language it speaks, its preferred architectural style, and customs and rituals, down even to the settlements’ layout. They then encouraged the populace to take these traditions and take them up for themselves. The culture of the Lumahina spread like this all across the lands it claims. While there are undoubtedly regional variants, an ordinary citizen can travel from one end to the other and still feel comfortably familiar, assuming they can afford to make the journey.
In this way, the culture has, in many ways, remained static over a very long time relative to other nations and cultural groups. Outsiders sometimes think this has left the Lumahina a staid and stagnant people. The usual retort is that whatever culture they have come from is obviously unstable and chaotic, or it would be just as old. Lumahina commoners take great pride in being part of a society that has outlasted all others and created a magnificent city as the capital. The civilization is remarkably stable as a result of the very loyal populace.
Even though there is much wealth disparity, it would be a mistake to assume the typical Pony has a dismal and miserable life. Despite the low literacy rate, history and legends and myths are passed from generation to generation through a robust oral tradition. When not working, the commoners played at a series of sports or entertained themselves with music and song and dramatic performances in large amphitheaters. Several times per year, festivals are held to celebrate old traditions or essential dates, most significantly the Lumahina new year on the winter solstice. The most significant other festival celebrated the great tree, the only time of the year any of the royal immortals ever show themselves to the public.
An Empire as old and wealthy as the Lumahina has had many enemies over the centuries. Those nations surrounding the growing Empire were jealous of the wealth, power, and immortality of the Lumahina ruling Princes and Princesses. Invasions in the earlier years were not uncommon, but as the Empire grew, they became less frequent. A large and stable population also represents a large base of conscripts for a defensive army. Once the Empire was vast enough, it became a daunting proposition to even attempt an invasion. Perhaps even worse, one would also face generals who generations of experience and had defeated dozens of attacks already.
The modern Lumahina doesn’t have a large standing army; it doesn’t feel it needs one. The only continually active military forces are the guardian forces of the nobility. In places where there are local threats, such as monsters and on some of the borders, garrisons help maintain security. On the edges of the Empire stand several significant fortresses, representing the most prominent military force inside Lumahina. These fortresses are only kept at full strength during times of disruption in the nations on those borders.
But the Empire prefers to use its most significant advantage to outlast its foes. Time. The experienced generals prefer to avoid massive direct confrontations, harrowing invading armies, and ambushing their supply lines. This maintains their own forces and safely keeps them out of danger as well, violence being one of the only things that can end an immortal’s life. Eventually, the invading nation exhausts its supplies, wealth, and willingness to continue the invasion and withdraw. Aggressive leaders and foes eventually fall to internal forces of their own chaotic cultures or just old age and cease to be threats.
Despite the power they control, the Lumahina Empire does not expand quickly. The more lands a noble controls, the more work they have to spend maintaining and less time to enjoy themselves. These immortals also despise allowing additional immortals to their number. At this point, the Empire already contained enough land, population, and wealth to happily satiate the nobility and their tastes, and they have little desire to grow even larger. From time to time, the Immortal council allows a city on the edges to join the Empire. Sometimes the city or small nation asks to join; on other occasions, one is bequeathed in a will by a forward-thinking leader who wants to secure his people’s safety.
In recent centuries only one nation has posed a significant threat to the Empire, the expansionist Sunbound Kingdom. Although the Twilight Lands form an effective natural barrier between the two superpowers, many on both sides viewed the other as an existential threat. Fortunately, a wise administrator named Halo convinced his King to begin talks with the Lumahina Princess to ensure the two would not end up at war. His idea for a Conclave between the two gained support among the immortal council, and the two nations have maintained healthy discourse between them ever since. In recent years King Halo has begun drafting a permanent alliance treaty, securing peace between the two for time immemorial.
However, his plans were not to be. In an event now called the final Conclave, King Halo was assassinated, and an attempt was made to end Princess Midnight’s life in retaliation. The newly crowned Queen Solarflare was unwilling to return fully into peace talks, and communication broke down. Many of the immortals who had disparaged the Conclave from the start were now convinced it was a mistake to even try. They viewed the Sunbound Kingdom as just another upstart that would eventually fall apart and collapse, and that view gained popularity even among the commoners.
The exiled Princess Moonlight tried to warn them of what was coming, but they didn’t listen. For months the immortal council ignored the furious Sunbound monarch until they received spy reports of massive armies being mobilized. Having never faced a nation that could afford such a force and the will to see it done left them unprepared. They scrambled to being forming conscript armies to bolster what little they had already. A nation built on always having enough time suddenly found itself without time to spare. Only the Twilight Lands’ dramatic enchantment gave them enough reprieve to prepare and train soldiers to see this coming war through to the end.
Not far off the northern coast is a series of cities built into an archipelago, connected by long bridges and tunnels running underneath the shallow sea. These cities are known as the Hive Isles and home to the cooperative society of the Changelings. The islands are dotted by steep stone spires and high cliffs that provide ample space for housing and industry that would otherwise be inaccessible to Ponies. The Hive Isles are some of the most densely populated areas anywhere in the world.
Poorly understood by those outside their own culture, the Changelings have a very complex social structure. While most nations require citizens to work together, teamwork is much more dramatic among the Changelings. Every aspect of their society is tightly controlled by guilds with very narrow focuses. Where another nation might have a farmers guild, the Changelings have one for each crop as well as a separate one for harvesting each product, and then another for transporting them to the warehouse guild to be organized by another and then sent to the merchants in need of produce by the transportation guilds again. The web of interconnecting logistics is even more complicated for the militarized guilds.
Even this complexity is exaggerated when every adult Changeling is loyal to multiple guilds at once. It is not uncommon for a single Changeling to be employed by three or four guilds at a time. Those who choose to serve only one become so focused on that one task they invariably become undisputed masters in that particular field.
When most Ponies meet a changeling, it is usually with one of the Infiltrators, Observers, or Sellswords. As such, Changelings have a reputation for dishonesty and treachery, and most assume a society of shapeshifters would be one of backstabbing and lies. In fact, the opposite is true. Their community only functions because they must trust each other implicitly, or the whole thing would fall apart. Those few outsiders who live among them are surprised at how much information is freely shared between Changeling guilds and individuals.
What serves as the government is an oligarchic group of guild leaders known as The Quorum. These heads of some of the most important or influential guilds decide what laws are made or what vital decisions need to be made to keep the Hive Isles safe. One of the few secrets the Changelings keep from other Changelings is the exact location of the meetings. There is no officially recognized name the Changelings use to refer to their nation, but it is not uncommon for one to say they are from the Hive Isles the same way a Pony might say they are from Lumahina or the Sunbound. Outsiders sometimes call them the Changeling Guilds.
Being somewhat smaller than Ponies and most other species, the Changelings rely on trickery and subterfuge instead of pure military might. If it keeps the Hives protected, they are not above assassination, kidnapping, or torture. Many invasion attempts of the Isles were scuttled when the invasion force found its food supplies poisoned, supply wagons burned, ships arriving late or lost at sea due to wrong orders, and half the army was marching in the wrong direction. When they have to fight, they also make good use of Griffon mercenaries to make up for their own shortcomings.
Their primary advantage is their ability to Shapeshift. Most can transform into another creature of similar size and shape, but they do not gain any significant additional strength or powers they do not already possess. A practiced infiltrator can easily pass through the security of nearly any nation or organization. They’ve used this to steal both valuables and vital information from their foes. They have even successfully stolen the knowledge of some of the most secret spells, including the magic spells that the Lumahina use to grant immortality or resurrection. Although they have the knowledge, they lack the ability or training to perform such potent magic themselves.
Tiny compared to most nations, The Guilds of the Hive Isles exercise weight of power far beyond their size. Changeling Infiltrators, Defenders, Sellswords, and Observers can be found in nearly all important cities and nations, offering valuable clandestine services available for the right price. Information is a currency they know how to spend and how best to acquire.
The Griffon mercantile republics were once powerful economic forces. Their coastal cities were hubs of trade networks that crossed continents and linked far away nations. Nearly incalculable wealth passed through their borders, and they leveraged that to give almost their entire population a high standard of living and education. They should have heralded the rise of a golden age of prosperity.
But success breeds jealousy, and the states found themselves on the losing side of conflicts with larger and more militarized enemies. Heavily outnumbered in nearly every engagement, the Griffons relied on mercenaries and on their few natural advantages. A Griffon is slightly larger and more robust than a Pony and possesses grasping claws to use weapons Ponies are physically incapable of manipulating. The Griffon states were able to hold off threats for decades, but there was one force they could never compete with.
The development of magic was becoming more advanced, and no Griffon has even been shown to directly use it themselves. Although they could hire a few magic-using Unicorns, it was costly, and they were too few to make a difference. In the Sunbound Kingdom, magic was a significant element of political power, and the Kingdom itself was undergoing a period of rapid expansion under the rule of King Golden Corona. When he set his sights on the wealth of the Griffon states, they were rapidly overcome.
Falling to the Sunbound armies, Griffons scattered. Refugees flocked to the remaining cities at first, then they too were best by the Sunbound. Lost in a haze of greed, Sunbound armies looted the Griffon cities and slaughtered much of the population. Those that could tried to escape to any safe harbor, including the Lumahina Empire or places even farther away.
It was clear to the few remaining Griffon states they could not compete against magic or the larger nations, and they begged for aid from anyone who would listen. Only the Changelings agreed to send assistance, but at a dire cost. As well as massive monetary debts, they would be subjects of a foreign power, handing over most of their governance and rights to the Changeling guilds and their Quorum leadership. The Changelings weren’t able to defeat the Sunbound in the field but disrupted their armies until the Sunbound decided they had taken enough land and finally turned back.
As an independent nation, the Griffons were destroyed. Those who couldn’t escape or wouldn’t leave became lesser class citizens of the Sunbound, looked down on for being unable to keep their homes or for an inability to use magic. In the Lumahina Empire, the Griffon refugees were often forcibly settled against their will, and families were sometimes split up. Unable to assimilate into the repressive culture, most Griffon refugees ran from the cities and into the wilds.
Scattered across continents, they nearly lost their culture and history. Only due to their eldest recording everything they knew into what would become sacred texts detailing the history and rituals of Griffon life before the invasions is it still remembered. Some make a living by selling their skills with money management, others turn to thievery and banditry, many sell themselves as mercenaries fighting the wars of others. Now the remainders of the Griffon mercantile republics are lost across whole continents, struggling just to survive in a harsh world that’s about to get much nastier.
If one were to try and avoid crossing the Twilight Lands, the options are either to go far to the north or far to the south. Most choose the northern route, as the southern is even worse than the Twilight Lands. South and southwest of the Twilight Lands are the imposing peaks of the Wyvernspine Mountains. Too high to fly over and too steep to climb; only a few passes are open even in summer, and even those are treacherous. The trek is long and arduous, the paths ravaged by rockfalls and high winds. Pony settlements are non-existent, aside from a few haggard mountaineers.
Even if you can cross the highest mountains, the terrain in the south is inhospitable to Pony life. The isolated valleys receive very little rainfall, the clouds blocked by the surrounding high peaks. The snow-pack melt-water lakes are brackish due to the metals and salts in the soil and make poor drinking or water sources for irrigation. Most of the mountains themselves are too cold for Ponies, and the lowlands between mountain ranges are too hot and dry. It’s a brutal and often deadly place for Ponies to live.
For Dragons, however, it’s nearly ideal. Nearly everything that makes life harder on a Pony is preferable for the scaled creatures. They ride the high winds up to cliff-side caves and spires of stone, subsist on hardy lowlands animals and mountain goats, and the mineral-dense waters are suitable for soaking scales in. Even the bracing frigid air of the peaks and hot winds of the lowlands are extremes they enjoy.
For the most part, the Dragons simply do not care about the world beyond their borders. Pony lands lack the interest of the mountains, and Ponies make few goods that the Dragons require or desire. This is fine with most Pony nations, as Dragons are large, physically mighty, and challenging to kill. However, little interest is not no attention, and the Dragons do observe their neighbors’ activities. They even send diplomats, on occasion, to monitor and inform. It is easier to be left alone when they know you mean no harm.
Although Dragons appear simple or primitive, as they do not have much use for large structures or massive organized agricultural systems, they are far from simplistic animals. Dragon culture is a deeply philosophical one, albeit one which few Ponies would understand. They follow a complex hierarchy of rituals and laws that determine one’s social standing. While larger and stronger Dragons tend to sit higher in this social system, well-thought-out verbal rhetoric is respected as solid arms and wings. Arguments and disputes are as often resolved via courts and debates as they are by contests of strength.
Draconic leadership has a problem; in recent decades, the population has slowly risen to the point of straining their ecosystem. There simply isn’t enough grazing land for the large herds needed to feed all the Dragons hatched in the coming years. They know this and are already working to overcome the problem. Their first mitigation efforts focused on more sharply organizing their feed herds and actually developing the agriculture needed to feed those animals. With the poor soils, this will prove to be insufficient, and they know it.
With their lands reaching capacity in the coming decades, Draconic leadership turns their eyes towards more fertile regions where crops for livestock grow in abundance—places currently populated by Ponies.
Scattered across the deep forests of the Twilight Lands and the river deltas to the north are the Kirin tribes. Although lacking a centralized government and separated by great distance, they still maintain a cohesive society. Instead of having a single leader, every tribe sends two members to represent them at a congress when important decisions need to be made. The agreements and laws made there are followed by all Kirin, a stunning display of unity and cooperation in a harsh world. The congresses are uncommon, only occurring once every several years. This makes the Kirin as a whole slow to respond to change or threats from outside.
Every tribe consists of four distinct caste-cultures associated with nature’s primal elements: Water, Earth, Air, and Fire. Each caste-culture has its own internal way of life different from the others, even having unique architecture and language dialects. A healthy tribe has a mixture of all the castes. Intermingling is common, and children of such unions choose which caste they belong to upon reaching adulthood.
The Mirakami are those who ply the waterways and rivers. They fish for food and navigate between distant settlements using reed-built vessels perfectly suited for travel in shallow and sometimes dangerous waters. When a message needs to be sent from one tribe to another, it is carried by a Mirakami. Aqua, the seer, is of the Mirakami, using her ability to see at a distance through the water to spy on threats and help keep the Kirin safe. Mirakami Kirin are also skilled navigators and pathfinders.
The Tsetsoh are the most sedentary. They travel far from home rarely or only in great need, preferring to stay in one place to set down roots. Among the Kirin, they are the most proficient in construction and farming. Typically they also craft goods for the other Kirin who are less talented. No Kirin city could exist without Tsetsoh engineers and builders.
The flighty Ceannai are prone to wanderlust and have a desire to learn. They keep the records for the others, and many are rarely seen without a book to take notes. Many of the rest are expert merchants and often have a good head for numbers and economics. Ceannai are the teachers and scholars, even preserving the rituals and traditions of the other caste-cultures. They are also the most prolific musicians, sometimes traveling far and wide to discover new music.
It is said the Enkavma have souls that blaze brightly. The fiercest warriors among the Kirin hail from Enkavma, as do the most skilled hunters. Though they are few in number, facing a cadre of terrifying Enkavma fire dancers in battle is tantamount to suicide. Despite this reputation, most are not violent. All matters of spirituality and faith fall under Enkavma guidance. While few play musical instruments, many sing or perform differently, a tendency towards poetry is common.
Occasionally, a member of one of these caste-cultures develops an innate ability to manipulate their associated element, much as some Unicorn display magic ability. These powerful Kirin are often leaders among their tribe and among the Kirin as a whole. A Tsetsoh builder that can cause stone and earth to move at their will can erect a house or road in hours where a team might take days or weeks. A Ceannai might be able to read the breeze to know what the weather will be the next day or even steal the breath of one who attacks them. A Mirakami could protect a boat in rough waters or part the waves to allow easy fishing. Enkavma acrobats use bright bursts of flame to improve their performances or incinerate a foe.
A recurring element of Kirin art and architecture is four interlocking and overlapping circles. The center of the structure is made of a ring created by overlapping circles, and all of them fit entirely inside yet another external ring. This symbol represents the Kirin way of life and a literal description of the word they use to describe themselves as a collective, the Kreis, one made whole by many. Outside the Kirin themselves, most just call them the Kirin tribes or Kirin Circles.
During the first years of the Second Alicorn Age, the King of Caliburn grew desperate. His foes were closing in around him and his people on the edge of starvation. With armies on the horizon and few options to save his people, he turned to his faith. He begged spirits to save his people and his dream of a unified nation and that he would pay any price in return. To prove his dedication, he threw himself into the brilliant orb of energy atop a sacred mountain, expecting to be incinerated. He instead emerged bearing the wings and horn of an Alicorn, gleaming with golden power. Unknowingly he had entered into a Nexus and survived.
Believing he had been blessed by the Sun, he and his few remaining soldiers flung themselves upon the invaders with unrestrained zeal. Despite being badly outnumbered, and with his enemies having never seen an enraged Alicorn before, he routed them from the field. Unwilling to let his advantage falter, he chased them down and encircled as many as he could. Instead of executing the captives, he gave them a choice, go home and vow to never threaten his people again, join him in his crusade, or be destroyed. In awe of his power, many took the option to serve him, including the leaders of several city-states.
He could have taken their lands but saw benevolence as the better option. He allowed them to retain governance of their cities if they swore to him they would follow him and convert to his religion, the Cult of the Sun. As they bowed, he gave his promise that he would protect them, as they were now under his wings. At first, his rule was shaky. The average Pony was unsure what his intentions were and blamed their former leaders as cowards and traitors. Most thought of him as a tyrant and invader, little more than a foreign overlord.
It was clear to him that he would have to be seen as more than that to secure his new Kingdom’s stability. To a dear friend and fellow follower of the Sun, he gave governance of Caliburn, ensuring his attention was appropriately divided upon all his people. Then he abandoned his old name and took a new one. To celebrate the Sun that granted his victory, he took up the name Sunbound and that all his followers were equal in his eyes. The Sunbound Kingdom had been formed.
At first, he set about ensuring his rule was stable, visiting each city in turn and providing they each had the resources to grow. Where food was scarce, he took from where it was plentiful, and the same with materials and skill. His plan worked flawlessly. The first cities in the Kingdom could have fallen to bickering but instead flourished and grew under his leadership. Soon many began to worship him as a messiah and savior. It began to go to his head, and a cult of personality formed around him. The Nexus Temple atop the mountain became a sacred place; a proper shrine was built there for the faithful to pilgrimage to the Altar of Radiance.
The Sunbound Kingdom was bountiful, and seeing the neighboring nations as failing, he knew he would have to bring them under his guidance. King Sunbound believed himself blessed and knew they would surely join him. Some choose to merge voluntarily, exchanging autonomy for stability. Others grew jealous or frightful of him and fought against him. Unprepared for the power of an Alicorn, they fell, and King Sunbound began to believe he was invulnerable and unstoppable.
He was wrong. Taking few precautions for personal safety, King Sunbound was slain in battle barely more than ten years after claiming his throne. Their glorious leader slain shattered the image he had made of himself, and many of his closest followers fell to despair. How could the blessing of the Sun be taken so quickly? The young Kingdom was on the edge of collapse. Worse, believing himself immortal, King Sunbound had not secured an heir. The nobles of the cities who did not immediately fracture off gathered to decide how to handle the situation.
Some wanted to dissolve the Kingdom as a failed experiment; others thought they would have to face civil war as the more militarized among them would try to take the throne by force. But a few of Sunbound’s first followers still believed in his vision of a united world and gave the others another option. Each noble would put forth a candidate to become the new monarch, and they would debate who was the best choice. It was a fair and forward-thinking proposition, even placing substantial limits on the political powers of the new leader. So it was that the new Queen was chosen. The Kingdom should have collapsed after the end of the cult of Sunbound, but it didn’t.
The new Queen decided to move her capital to be closer to the nation’s center and ruled well for several decades. Before her death of old age, she had even agreed to a new Elector Council to select the next monarch. This became their tradition; each time a King or Queen died, the nobles from each fiefdom would gather and choose the next one. Sometimes the children of the monarch would be considered first, or they would have endorsed a capable figure to take their place. It wasn’t always peaceful, and several times the Kingdom almost fell to civil war.
Yet, it endured and expanded. While King Sunbound preferred to use diplomacy to acquire more territory, he wasn’t afraid to use force. His successors, however, were far more willing to use blades before bargains. The Kingdom’s history is marked by multiple militant expansionist phases, often a generation or two apart. Sunbound Kingdom armies were soon renowned as being large and well trained, with a reputation for overwhelming force and skilled generals.
This expansion eventually brought them to within striking range of the other large and powerful nations of their time, most significantly the ancient Lumahina Empire on the other side of the Twilight Lands. It was an administrator in the city of Galatine who foresaw the Sunbound’s expansionist policies coming into conflict with them, and knew that such a war would be utterly devastating to both nations. This low-level bureaucrat by the name of Halo managed to get an audience with the current monarch and suggested a meeting between the leaders with the intent of avoiding war.
Halo’s idea for a diplomatic meet met with disdain by many, but the King was already handling small wars and revolts on multiple fronts and agreed to allow Halo to at least make an attempt. After hiring a Kirin guide to get safely across the Twilight Lands, Halo made his way to the capital and tried to get the attention of the current Prince. It took him several weeks to be granted an audience, during which time he marveled at the beauty of the city beneath the giant tree. Even once he finally got that meeting, it was clear the Prince considered the Sunbound Kingdom as a young upstart and not worth the effort to engage in diplomacy.
That was a misunderstanding; although the Sunbound Kingdom was much younger than the Lumahina, it was by no means an upstart. By this point, it was already nearly five centuries old and had cajoled, claimed, or conquered more cities and populations than the much older Empire. As well as examples of art and sculptures from many of the far-flung corners of the Kingdom meant to prove that the Sunbound was a cultural center, Halo had brought detailed maps of the continent-spanning Kingdom. Although the Prince was unimpressed with the art, he was surprised at the sheer size of the supposed small upstart. Halo was dismissed but instructed to remain in the city for several more weeks. They spoke once more, and the Prince agreed to the formal meeting.
The Conclave was remarkably successful, making each nation’s intentions clear to the other and helping to prevent conflicts. Without having to worry about the Lumahina, the King could refocus his efforts to resolve the revolts and wars on his borders. Halo’s achievement got him plenty of attention and elevation to the governor of Galatine and occasional adviser to the King. Before the King passed, he gave a glowing recommendation to the elector council that Halo would make an exemplary and wise new leader, and they accepted him. Halo would rule for many decades while keeping the Sunbound Kingdom safe and relatively conflict-free, becoming known as Good King Halo.
Under his rule, the culture and economy of the Sunbound people thrived. It would, however, be a mistake to assume there is only one Sunbound culture. During its expansions, there was no concerted effort to displace the existing traditions and rituals of the claimed territories. Similarly, no attempt was made to shun ethnicities or even other races. Each region or city has its own distinct way of life and may be distinctly different than most others. Due to this, the Sunbound Kingdom is a dynamic place, full of complex and varied societies within the larger Kingdom. As long as they pay their taxes and don’t cause trouble, they mostly get left alone to their own traditions.
Although varied, there are some common festivals throughout the Kingdom. Chief among those is the celebration of the Sun’s Gift, the day King Sunbound emerged from the Nexus Temple as an Alicorn. The festival takes place several weeks before the Summer Solstice and also serves as the official date of the new calendar year. Often there is a bonfire just before dawn into which an effigy of a Pony is placed into the fire to represent the transformation of King Sunbound, although there are many regional variations of the celebration.
Just as culturally diverse as the Sunbound is, it is also religiously diverse. These cults are small regional sects that typically worship animal totems, spirits, or local superstitions. One of the only major organized faiths is the Cult of the Sun, revering the Alicorn founder of the Sunbound Kingdom. Despite his death long ago, his followers still hold sway over a not-insignificant number of Ponies across the Kingdom. Some of its members even keep offices of political and economic power.
Among the non-noble Ponies is a belief in personal excellence. A bright and capable individual can make a successful life on their own. Parents encourage their children to find something they dream for and work to make it a reality. Those who achieve greatness through hard work and skill are celebrated and respected.
There is a dark side to this way of thinking that has crept into Sunbound society over time that went unnoticed. As magic was re-discovered after the collapse of the first Alicorn Age, it became both more potent and accessible. Unicorns who could perform magic had an easy shortcut to success out of reach of Pony and Pegasus. Magic-using Unicorns could produce quality work cheaper and faster than non-unicorn. What began as reverence for personal excellence slowly morphed into reverence for magical ability. Spellcasting Unicorns quietly took control over many of the industries and businesses. Magical power became one of the defining features of success. Despite this, the dream of personal excellence, even for non-Unicorn, never left the collective culture.
Such a large population requires a broad economic base. Difficulties in organizing logistics over an immense territory and having a sometimes relocated capital means there is no single centralized financial center. Each region has its own internal trade center, and each trades with those around it. It is ubiquitous to find goods from every end of the Kingdom in distant cities. This robust and widespread economy funds large-scale projects, including roads and aqueducts to every major city.
A robust economy also helps spread the wealth around the people. While the nobles and some churches are still fabulously wealthy, far beyond most citizens, the standard of living can be quite high. Those who want to make their own way in the world can do so as they wish, with the only limitation being funding for whatever project or business they want to start. Literacy rates are pretty high as most citizens can afford some teaching for their children, and those who show promise are typically taken for instruction at prominent academies.
The pinnacle of these academies is the Luminous Tower, a center of magical study and instruction. Here the best and brightest young minds learn mathematics, philosophy, military theory, economics, and politics. Most importantly, those with prodigious magical skills are taught how to hone that ability. The children of nobles, sometimes even non-Unicorn, almost invariably are sent to the Luminous Tower to learn how to govern and rule. Quite a few of the Sunbound’s living heroes got their start here.
One of the most consequential young Pony to get started at the Luminous Tower was the Alciorn, Solarflare. Possessing nearly unparalleled magical talent and power, it is believed by some of the cult of the Sun practitioners that she may be the reincarnated form of their messiah. When Good King Halo was assassinated at the final Conclave, the elector council chose her to become the new Queen. She moved the capital to the mountain fortress-city of Arondight and rapidly began re-militarization in anticipation of further hostile action from the Lumahina Empire.
