The Haaraldrians were once Traysian, until Lord Haarald the First led his army from their western homeland to fight in the Clay Lands’ civil war. In gratitude for his service, King Brendain the First rewarded the now-exiled Traysians with a fiefdom—a land of vast and ancient forests. Haaraldrians live in harmony with the woodland, taking from it only what is freely given. Their homes are built from the trunks of trees that have fallen naturally, and only in times of true desperation will they cut living timber. Families often collect wood for many years, setting it aside for the day their children will raise a home of their own. Their skill in woodworking is unmatched, requiring neither nails nor bindings; their structures stand through masterful joinery alone. Haaraldrian homes are often adorned with intricate carvings, and the harvest season is celebrated with great carving festivals, where mead flows and artistry thrives.
Mothers who have lost a child bear the Vilohsar Mark—a red tattoo upon the face. There is no true translation of the word Vilohsar, for no word in the tongue of Mernamarc fully captures the depth of a mother’s grief.
The Haaraldrians were once Traysian, until Lord Haarald the First led his army from their western homeland to fight in the Clay Lands’ civil war. In gratitude for his service, King Brendain the First rewarded the now-exiled Traysians with a fiefdom—a land of vast and ancient forests. Haaraldrians live in harmony with the woodland, taking from it only what is freely given. Their homes are built from the trunks of trees that have fallen naturally, and only in times of true desperation will they cut living timber. Families often collect wood for many years, setting it aside for the day their children will raise a home of their own. Their skill in woodworking is unmatched, requiring neither nails nor bindings; their structures stand through masterful joinery alone. Haaraldrian homes are often adorned with intricate carvings, and the harvest season is celebrated with great carving festivals, where mead flows and artistry thrives.
Mothers who have lost a child bear the Vilohsar Mark—a red tattoo upon the face. There is no true translation of the word Vilohsar, for no word in the tongue of Mernamarc fully captures the depth of a mother’s grief.
The Haaraldrians were once Traysian, until Lord Haarald the First led his army from their western homeland to fight in the Clay Lands’ civil war. In gratitude for his service, King Brendain the First rewarded the now-exiled Traysians with a fiefdom—a land of vast and ancient forests. Haaraldrians live in harmony with the woodland, taking from it only what is freely given. Their homes are built from the trunks of trees that have fallen naturally, and only in times of true desperation will they cut living timber. Families often collect wood for many years, setting it aside for the day their children will raise a home of their own. Their skill in woodworking is unmatched, requiring neither nails nor bindings; their structures stand through masterful joinery alone. Haaraldrian homes are often adorned with intricate carvings, and the harvest season is celebrated with great carving festivals, where mead flows and artistry thrives.
Mothers who have lost a child bear the Vilohsar Mark—a red tattoo upon the face. There is no true translation of the word Vilohsar, for no word in the tongue of Mernamarc fully captures the depth of a mother’s grief.
The Haaraldrians were once Traysian, until Lord Haarald the First led his army from their western homeland to fight in the Clay Lands’ civil war. In gratitude for his service, King Brendain the First rewarded the now-exiled Traysians with a fiefdom—a land of vast and ancient forests.
Haaraldrians live in harmony with the woodland, taking from it only what is freely given. Their homes are built from the trunks of trees that have fallen naturally, and only in times of true desperation will they cut living timber. Families often collect wood for many years, setting it aside for the day their children will raise a home of their own. Their skill in woodworking is unmatched, requiring neither nails nor bindings; their structures stand through masterful joinery alone. Haaraldrian homes are often adorned with intricate carvings, and the harvest season is celebrated with great carving festivals, where mead flows and artistry thrives.
Mothers who have lost a child bear the Vilohsar Mark—a red tattoo upon the face. There is no true translation of the word Vilohsar, for no word in the tongue of Mernamarc fully captures the depth of a mother’s grief.
The Haaraldrians were once Traysian, until Lord Haarald the First led his army from their western homeland to fight in the Clay Lands’ civil war. In gratitude for his service, King Brendain the First rewarded the now-exiled Traysians with a fiefdom—a land of vast and ancient forests.
Haaraldrians live in harmony with the woodland, taking from it only what is freely given. Their homes are built from the trunks of trees that have fallen naturally, and only in times of true desperation will they cut living timber. Families often collect wood for many years, setting it aside for the day their children will raise a home of their own. Their skill in woodworking is unmatched, requiring neither nails nor bindings; their structures stand through masterful joinery alone. Haaraldrian homes are often adorned with intricate carvings, and the harvest season is celebrated with great carving festivals, where mead flows and artistry thrives.
Mothers who have lost a child bear the Vilohsar Mark—a red tattoo upon the face. There is no true translation of the word Vilohsar, for no word in the tongue of Mernamarc fully captures the depth of a mother’s grief.