Bregedur
더 많은 작업
We will reclaim it, even if we must burn the forest to do so
Once, they lived beneath the shade of the World Tree, breathing the same wind as their kin. They were members of Aerorn, who called Irminsul their mother, a people who made the forest and the mountains their home. But some chose silence, some chose to negotiate, and some accepted being robbed of what was theirs. And in the end, they alone could not abide it.
The Bregedur tribe. Now known by the name "Wildfire," they are the ones who took up the power of flame and came to serve the purple-flame dragon Polaris in order to reclaim their stolen holy land.
Those who burn the forest in order to protect it. Those who chose to become monsters in order to take back the Sacred Tree. The rage and vengeance that Aerorn ultimately turned away from has now become a single power, blazing within the fires of the north.
The Old Name Beneath the World Tree
The Bregedur tribe was originally called the Rogal tribe. Like the other tribes of Aerorn, they held Irminsul sacred, living upon the land where the life force of the World Tree spread, and they built their own home there. The Rogal tribe in particular were among the first to lay the foundations of life in what is now the realm of Aerorn, and they were the very ones who pioneered the wastelands and protected the forest.
But as the conflict with the Kingdom of Gevitz intensified, everything began to twist out of shape.
The army of steel that surged up from the south invaded the forest without end, and the Rogal tribe insisted that they must answer with blood. But the Ayur tribe and the others chose negotiation and retreat, under the banner of protecting the World Tree. For them the forest came first, but for the Rogal tribe, the way in which the forest was protected mattered just as much.
For they believed that the moment one compromised with sword-bearing invaders, far too much had already been lost.
In the end, the invasion of Gevitz became reality, the World Tree was deeply wounded, and the home of the Rogal tribe was trampled as well.
After that day, Irminsul was no longer merely a Sacred Tree. It became a stolen homeland, a holy land to be reclaimed, and the symbol of a promise that one day must surely be paid back.
The Dragon of the North, the Purple Flame
The defeated Rogal tribe fled at last to the polar reaches of the northeast. A land of snow and frozen earth, where a colossal dragon had slept, long sealed away. There, they came face to face with the purple-flame dragon Polaris.
Polaris had been one of the children of Gergia, the "Mother of All Dragons," but for the sin of defying his mother's will he was defeated and sealed beneath the land of Greenland. A great spear, Sammyaksambori, pierced his breast, and countless chains and dragon-tongue seals gnawed endlessly at his flesh and his life.
But what the Rogal tribe saw was not a defeated sinner. What they saw was another being, unjustly stripped of its power and bound in agony. A god that resembled them all too closely.
They swore to serve Polaris, and in return they received the power of the purple flame. From that day on, the Rogal tribe no longer used their old name. They began to call themselves "Bregedur," meaning Wildfire.
- "We shall bloom and spread, and in the end become the wildfire that gathers all things into its embrace."
- — High Priestess Makena Amadi
A Civilization Forged in Flame
The Bregedur are not a people who abandoned nature.
They simply chose to no longer live leaning upon it. With their own hands, their magic, and the authority granted by the dragon, they reshaped the land and rebuilt their civilization. Domains that were once forest and mountain have become a new world, blanketed in scorched earth, stone tempered by flame, and black spires crusted with amethyst.
Their architecture rises as though the very rock had bloomed up out of the ground. Lifting molten earth back up, shaping it with fire, and hardening the flow of ash and lava, their structures conjure an atmosphere utterly unlike the pastoral, nature-bound style of Aerorn. The sky is forever dim with purple flame and acrid smoke, and throughout the cities, undying bonfires, magical installations, temples, and altars are set as though breathing.
This civilization took its present shape over no more than a few decades. But the authority that the first High Priest Sobet Amadi received from Polaris was truly overwhelming, and that power made possible wide-scale transformation of the land, construction, and the forming of magic-based infrastructure. In a very short span of time, the Bregedur raised up a flame civilization all their own.
Warriors Who Serve a God
The Bregedur tribe is a theocratic society.
The highest seat belongs not to a chieftain but to the High Priest, who comes face to face with Polaris and conveys his will. Faith and rule are not separated; the word of the High Priest is the very will of the tribe. Their society is also matrilineal, and the authority of the High Priest is likewise maintained through bloodline and succession.
They are deeply wary of outsiders and are loath to mingle with others beyond the minimum trade needed for the tribe's survival. Their loathing of the Automata, in particular, comes close to a creed. The memory that the war and vengeance they once sought were thwarted by the intervention of the Automata still remains within them to this day, like poison.
Yet the Bregedur should not be seen as a mere fanatical cult.
They are a warrior society that thoroughly fuses religion and the military, ritual and real combat. Flame magic is not simply the power to raise fire; it is applied in countless ways, reaching even to wind and water, metal and life, summoning and weaponry. Some wreathe their blades in purple flame, some command corrupted spirits, some summon burning beasts, and some channel the power of the purple fire into guns and shamanic implements.
The flame of the Bregedur is not mere destruction but the power of a civilization that reshapes the battlefield and transforms the very way of life.
A Faith Sustained by Suffering
But at the heart of these flames there is always suffering.
The sealed Polaris, even now, is pierced by the spear, endlessly losing his life force and his power. The Bregedur tribe regards serving him, easing his suffering, and prolonging his life even a little, as their most sacred duty.
Those chosen in this process are the "Servants of Suffering."
Near the dragon's seal, through ritual and dance, writhing and prayer, they share in the suffering of Polaris. As a result, some become deeply assimilated to the dragon's power, some are tormented by severe mental aftereffects, and some are twisted into something that can no longer be called human.
The faith of the Bregedur is not sustained by blessing and majesty alone. It is a system that can endure only upon an oath of blood and flesh, to take suffering upon oneself and to bear even the suffering of their god.
A Fleet Bound for the Stolen Land
The Bregedur are no longer a tribe of the forest, but a power that lives upon the fires of the north and the sea.
Under the influence of the burning land, farming and hunting have greatly diminished, and a food culture based on seafood and root vegetables has taken hold. Fishing has grown important, and at the same time their ship culture has rapidly developed for expeditions and invasions toward the south. Harbors and batteries, fishing bases and military docks sit together along the city outskirts and the coast, and their gaze is forever fixed beyond the sea.
What they desire is not mere survival.
The Bregedur seek to topple Gevitz, to wrest control of the World Tree away from Aerorn, and to raise Irminsul anew with their own hands. To them the World Tree is no longer an object of worship. It is only a holy land to be reclaimed, restored, and ruled.
The Bregedur have already reached their verdict in their hearts: that by the ways of those who stand atop the trees, the Sacred Tree can never be protected.
The Next Master of the Wildfire
New Age 510. The Bregedur tribe stands before yet another crossroads.
The first High Priest Sobet Amadi at last offered up her own soul as a sacrifice to prolong the life of Polaris, and now that seat has passed to her daughter, Makena Amadi. The tribe is still strong, the purple flame still blazes, and the oath to reclaim Irminsul remains unchanged.
But Makena knows. She knows that what awaits at the end of this faith is not glory alone. She senses, by instinct, that she too will one day be offered up as a sacrifice for the life of Polaris. And so she comes to hold a new resolve: the ambition to make the god's power wholly her own, without being spent as the god's tool, and to restore the World Tree.
The Bregedur are no longer merely a tribe of exiles. They are a wildfire born from defeat, warriors who turned their grievance into faith, and those who would reclaim their holy land one day even if they must burn the whole forest down again.
And the most fearsome thing about a wildfire is that no one can ever say exactly when it began to spread.