Eriwon is a country at the edge of a mountain chain that is known for its many rivers and scenic beauty. It has an alliance with Koruna and therefore enjoys peace at this moment. People of Eriwon are usually very patient and calm. They believe in the good of people and try their best to live a fair life rather than depending on the gods to give it to them. While they are still very religious, they do not believe that the gods will grant them immortality. They believe in their own gods, having one god for almost everything in existence. Many people there are excellent combat fighters and only few use magic. The magic used most often in Eriwon is air magic, since a lot of peace and calmness is needed for it and most people hold this most important trait in them.
Many people visit Eriwon in spring to see the countless cherry trees that grow there blossom in all tones of white and pink.

Mentality

People from Eriwon are kind hearted, silent and understanding. Not all of them, but most of them. They are very ambitious and work hard for what they want to earn. They have built many temples in honour of the many different gods they believe in and visit them frequently to voice their prayers. They are also known for their incredible skill in architecture, no matter if the result was a building or a bridge.

History

 

Koruna was a glorious country, full of riches and gold. We both were born there and yet we were not entirely happy. We kept hearing of all the lands beyond the desert, that have said to be destroyed. But a century has passed, so life must have returned.

My wife was a historian who had founded an association of others who wrote down the happenings and studied the past. I tended to the shop, which’s back room was used for meetings of her little gathering of like-minded people. Through it, we found others who shared our longing for the unknown things beyond the sands of the Korunian desert.

It took a few years of preparation, study and the gathering of enough people, but eventually we were ready to set out and do what no one has done since the foundation of Santugan. We left the city. Our group counted fifty-four curious souls, among those eleven children with their parents. We kept following the river Deris and it eventually lead us, after many weeks of wandering, to a green land. Except in gardens, we had never seen such fertility. But this was not the only wonder we encountered. The further we came, the higher we seemed to climb and before we knew, we were in the middle of the mountains.

This land was everything we had dreamed of and more, but my wife insisted to go further. So, we did. Eventually, when the mountains flattened out again, we all decided to have wandered far enough. The children needed a rest that lasted more than just a few days and my wife found out that she was pregnant. Under these circumstances, we called this valley our new home.

Never in our lives would we have imagined, that we had stepped right into the holy lands of people, who already lived here. We found out the next morning, when we exited our tents and were surrounded by hostile faces. They were horses, but their eyes were unlike any I had ever seen. Weirdly slitted and in a weird way also beautiful.

The reason for their hostility had been the assumption of us being demons that were trying to take their land away from them. Far from it! Never in my life had I been called a demon before. I didn’t know if I should be amused or feel insulted. After some negotiations, however, the natives offered us to stay in their home and to teach us their ways.

Some of us were sceptical since we only intended to find new lands, not to change our religion. I, for one, was open-minded, though. I welcomed to learn new things about this foreign land and culture and so did my wife.

 

A year went by in which both the natives and we taught each other new things. They taught us how dangerous the forests could be and about the demons and monsters that lurked there. In return we taught them how to build houses, which they very much appreciated, since this way they could find better protection from the monsters.

They taught us their prayers and showed us their temples, which they built for their gods. They had many. It seemed like there was a god for everything in existence. It was hard to memorize all of them, but luckily, my wife wrote a list, which was about to turn into a whole book. In return we taught them how to weave fabrics and how to make clothing out of them.

To everything we taught them, the natives added some of their own charm, adding much more detail than any architect or tailor would. The results were utter master pieces. In return we took our own religion and combined it with theirs, assigning the gods to the six ones we believed in. So, the god of the local river Kataari, would be an under-god of the god of water, or the god of the Oku shrine fire, would be an under-god of the god of fire, and so on.

 

My wife had given birth to a sweet little filly who we named Miya, after hearing that one of the old heroes of the natives’ stories was named that. They saw this as a great honour, which improved our relationship with them further.

 

While demons attacked and sometimes killed the animals we held for food, luckily none of us became a victim of their attacks. The houses and walls we built, were helping out a lot to secure the village. When working on the rice fields though, we were not protected by any construction and constantly had to be on the watch. Eventually it happened that one of us, a she-wolf, got attacked by one of the demons and dragged into the forest. A group of people were sent to find her, but all they could retrieve were her bones.

 

Life went on and we started to build walls around the fields too. We made the village as secure as possible and developed strategy after strategy to fend off the demons. A decade went by and the head priest of the natives died. A new priest was chosen, who would be the one in command. He was young and educated, just as expected from a leader. What threw not just me, but also the others of our group off, was, that he had the right to choose a wife freely from the village, no matter if she was already married or not. Of course, all married mares frowned upon this rule and dug out their Korunian veils again to hide from the priest. Also my wife did so, which I welcomed. They might have been friendly to us, but they would not take my wife! But he did not choose her. He chose Miya.

 

I was happy about that since the new priest was a decent guy. The rules were not his fault, since they have been made centuries ago already. Also, Miya seemed to be happy about it. She liked the priest and that made me happy. A denial of their marriage would have strained the relationship between us and the natives anyway, so it was good that things worked out this way.

 

Diary of Fardis Boochia – Pilgrim – written 113 – 125 a.w.

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When I was a child, this city has been nothing but a simple village in the mountains with houses built out of stone and wood and the only thing that concerned the people here had been the demons of the forest and the crop on the fields.

Now I was an adult and looked upon a glorious collection of detailed constructions and buildings. Parts of the forest had been made ours and paths to the temples had been laid out with cobble. All because my mother had been a visionary. She had always been that, even before her marriage with father. Or so I have been told.

Time has passed, so that my mother, who had grown up in these very mountains as the child of the first pilgrims from Koruna, had grown old. Father had died and another leader had been chosen. My father had been a priest, as well as the leader before him, but the one who would lead us now was not. Apparently, everyone thought that the temples were just a secondary worry now and that leading us would require someone who was not occupied with countless rituals that had to be taken care of. I disapproved of that notion. Father had always managed to do both just fine, but that was just my opinion.

I was to be married to this new leader, who was called a king by the by now old pilgrims. And I was his queen. The titles seemed tempting, but they did not seem to suit this country. I have always heard them when mother had told me stories of Koruna, that in turn had been told to her by her mother. Two generations of stories, making them seem more like a fairy tale than reality. But the desert country Koruna was reality. They were reigned by a king, or even two, the old pilgrims seemed to not be sure there, with a queen at his side. A king to rule over a golden city in the desert. It had been a bedtime story when I was a child. And now I was a queen myself? Not suiting at all. But I did not object. As the female part of the reign, my purpose was to give birth to an heir. One generation ago, most of my tasks would have also included the work in the house, cooking, working on the field and things of the like. Now a palace had been built and people were serving us, taking away that work from me. It was a life I still had to get used to.

 

Diary of Terhi Sumayo – first Queen of Wonsu  – written 194 a.w.

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I wrote down the name of the half-demon filly as she was urged to the others by Tadakata. He was new here, but already doing a great job. No compromises, no reaction to begging. This is what one needed when working in this profession. It was a good profession to have. For one, the slave market was booming right now, everyone wanting a help in their shop or house that would not have to be paid. On the other hand, it was doing the kingdom a favour of decreasing the poverty and giving the half-bloods some good use in life instead of just being executed. People with too many children and too little money often came here to sell one of their offspring, usually one of the older ones since they brought more money. Others were females that had been unfortunate enough to run into a demon in the forest on their way to a temple or whatever other business they have had in the woods. This more often than not ended in a pregnancy. And who would want a half demon as a child? So, they went to the slave market as soon as they were born. It was not Tadakata’s task to raise them, though. I had Asayo, a vixen, employed for that. Tadakata was there to prepare the older ones for the market. To teach the slaves how to behave properly was most important. When it came to half demons it especially was important to find out how to block their powers. No one wanted to buy a slave that could kill them after all. It was also my job to make sure that this did not happen.

But not only children but also adults were slaves for sale on the market. The mothers were the most problematic. When one of their children was sold, they more often than not, started screaming like a witless and begged the buyer to buy them too. It was always quite annoying to silence them. Mostly the whip was a successful threat to let them shut their mouths.

Today was a special day, though. While the streets of Wonsu, Eriwon's proud capital, were filled with people minding their daily business, a group of blacksmiths from the mountain village Minetake were on their way here. The king had ordered for the slaves to be branded since the escape of them has been a bother for a while. With a brand, the slaves would not be able to escape without a trace anymore. They would forever be recognisable as slaves.

I took a look to the side, where the slaves were held in their stalls and cages. They were nervous, some even downright terrified. This would be a hassle of a day. I could already see it: half of the bunch would put up a fight and the other half would beg and cry their eyes out. Tadakata and I, as well as the poor blacksmiths, will have a long day in front of us.

 

Diary of a Slave Vendor – written around 310 a.w.

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Eriwon was founded by emigrants from Koruna who did not enjoy the life in the desert. They could not settle down for an uncivilised, wild life and so formed their own city. This city was called Wonsu. It started off as a simple settlers' town but eventually grew into a big city that was ruled by a royal family. With time more cities outside of Wonsu formed, but the king ordered them to also belong to his land. This is how Eriwon was born.
In the year 671a.w. the king of Eriwon declared war on Koruna, for he wanted more land of his own. The king of Koruna declined and therefore the blood started to run. The war ended when King Faris of Koruna was killed. Later, in the year 721, an alliance between Koruna and Eriwon was established, enabling the two countries to co-exist in peace.
The city of Wonsu is still the capital nowadays and there is peace between the neighbouring countries ever since the alliance was formed.