Ithaqua

The Conclave of the Frozen Pines

Circle:	Anti-Magick
Guilds:	Wardens, Idras, and Sentinels
Townes:	Pol'pera, Aherindale, Kadar, En'aruna, Agirni

Cold and silent, and shrouded in snow, Ithaqua - sometimes referred to as the Frozen Conclave, the Black Pines, or the Ironwoods - is a harsh and bleak place, wrought with danger. Surrounded by the low-lying mountains, Ithaqua was lost to the world of Aetherius for centuries until a band of exiled Khandavans came upon it. Accepted by the old war-hound, Fenrir Lyesmith, they rebuilt the ruined village upon the ideals of its people and ancient bloodlines.

Ithaqua stands now for the unbroken wilderness, completely free and untainted by magick that twisted the first villagers in ages past. Once founded upon the teachings of Death, Wrath, Madness, and Ruin - Ithaqua marks a new path free of magick and demons. Long since abandoned by the gods and goddesses of those ways, Ithaqua draws a deep hatred towards Them and seeks the end of Their domain and any related to the corruption of magick. Magick is seen as more than a mere tool for destruction in the hands of the wielder, but as a crutch that leads to weakness. It is dangerous, unpredictable, and the very wood rejects its vile presence.

Ithaquans are known for their tact and survival capability - resorting to cannibalism in order to ensure their continued life, and reveling in it as a sacrament to the spirits which still make their presence known through spiritualistic arts. Ithaquans value their freedoms and venture outside of their home to ensure they remain. There is a dark and terrible hunger in those woods - the wolves, the pines, that cold and hateful wind, the Wendigo - these are the teeth and soul of Ithaqua.

History

Ithaqua's Founding and the Wrath of Nemesis

In the year 420 AA, an expedition composed of lycaeans and sylayans made their way north, led by Galt Lyesmith, to escape the civil unrest caused by war in Kinsarmar and Stavenn. After passing through a previously uncharted trail in the Reate Forest, they came upon the dark, black pine barrens of the Ithaquan Forest, which were inhabited by packs of abnormally huge feral wolves, which stalked and picked off members of the expedition, including Knut Lyesmith. The arboreals in the group decided that the party should seek safety in the trees, and spent many years building platforms and catwalks spanning the branches of the pines.

Ithaqua is formally founded in the year 428 AA as members of the Lyesmith pack settle in to a life isolated from the conflict of the southern civilizations. A blizzard the following year makes their devotion to isolation difficult, however; even the wolves disappear or hunker away in buried dens, and their meager supplies soon dwindle down to mere scraps. Desperate Ithaquans turn to the only Gods who seem to still take an interest in them - Thanatos, Malkav, and Nemesis. Cults to these Gods were started, and Ithaquans even began practicing the arts of the Noctusari and Diabolist, but an even more significant division is felt throughout the village between the lycaeans and the sylayans.

Though they had founded Ithaqua together, the two races found themselves pitted against each other in a battle for survival. The lycaeans struck first, calling the elves to a council meeting and then springing an ambush upon them. The nearly feral wolfmen offered the blood of the fallen to Nemesis and then feasted upon their flesh. The elven arboreals that survived decided to conduct a ritual that would cause the forest itself to smite the traitorous lycaeans, but Nemesis intervened, calling the elves out for trying to tip the natural balance of the dark forest in their favor. A great storm, far greater than the blizzard that had previously ravaged their village, was summoned and in its wake, Ithaqua was destroyed and nearly every inhabitant of the village was slain.

The survivors of the Red Maiden's wrath were led by a Noctusari known as Birk Bonecaster, who also led a cult devoted to Nemesis. They gathered the corpses of the fallen and placed them on a great pyre, and Birk uttered a phrase that would still be proudly declared in Ithaqua to this day: "Meat for the pack!" Thus began the village's iconic reverence for cannibalism. For many years, the village would remain isolated and hostile to those who might stumble into their boundaries.

Landmarks

• Wendigo Catwalk -

• Will O' Wisp Street -

• The Frozen Scar -

• Unseelie Lane -

• The Mounted Cephyreid -

Notable Denizens

• Rekhan Bonecaster - Standing at around six feet in height, this muscular sylayan is clad in heavy leathers and furs that obscure most of his body. He carries himself with an air of authority, easily enforced by his imposing form. Raven black hair has been tied back into a makeshift braid while unkempt strands frame a roughened face, high cheekbones and tattered elven ears granting a mark of heritage; still showing a hint of vivacity, watery green eyes peer out over the gray scarf that partially shields his features. Each of his weapons has been marked with bloodwards against magick, and with Ithaquan warbow slung across his back, glaive and buckler grasped in his hands, Rekhan is ever vigilant to the council he is sworn to protect. A snug band fitting around his left forearm shows him to be an Iron Claw within the ranks of the Ravenguard.

• Onerigord, the hunter - He is a Norrjin man of short, stocky stature. He has scruffy, short brown hair he has not bothered to comb, and an equally ungroomed beard as well. He wears upon his rugged frame the patched together pelts of many wolves he has killed during the past months.

• a large norrjin named Reil - A large norrjin man stands here in silent observation. His thick raven locks are tied back to keep his dark, ice-blue eyes clear to observe his surroundings. A calloused hand rests on the hilt of his weapon in warning against foul play. His body is well muscled, shown off with the lack of any covering on his torso. Across his massive chest is a large tattoo showing the Wendigo of Ithaqua and around each muscled bicep is a tribal direwolf tattoo. He is wearing a thick black leather loincloth that hangs down to about mid-thigh with a simple leather tie at each hip.

• Joorg, the blackjack dealer - This lycaean man has clearly stood the test of time. Covered in various scars and the like, his middle-aged frame seems to already be losing some of the solid-cut physique common to his native people. A single scar runs the length of his jaw from the lobe of his ear to his chin, though it is long healed and seems to have no effect on his ability to smile. A mischievous grin and eyes twinkling in amusement seem to be perpetually the expression behind the strands of black hair that escape the tail tied at the neck. Yellow eyes keep an alert watch over the room and the cards alike, while large, surprisingly nimble hands gather, distribute and manipulate the cards quickly and efficiently.

• a young sylayan named Kaliska - This young sylayan girl is slender in form, much of which is hidden under a sort of dress made from animal pelts. Her blond hair hangs loose around her face and frames green eyes which are sharp and seem to miss nothing. Her movements are swift and sometimes nearly undetectable, and surprising strength of limb is displayed as she reaches again and again to spin the roulette wheel. When she moves, the glint of a hidden hilt notes that though small and merry, this individual is unafraid to do what she needs to if she discovers cheating.

• Nils, a weary old wolf - A small specimen, this wolf seems quite tame by comparison to other Ithaquan wildlife. He is indifferent to anyone nearby, generally ignoring those who've nothing to offer him. Seeming a little worse for wear from his years spent in Ithaqua's harsh climate, his fur is thinning, and he walks with a slight limp, favoring the left side. Despite this, his demeanor is easygoing and without malice, his wild roots long since dispatched.

• Magaelan, the barkeep - A burly elven man, long worn by the winds of the Ithaquan wood, Magaelan still bears the marks of the life he led before becoming a barkeep. Calluses cover his large, thick-fingered hands, with small scars and the remains of gouges mingling over them, and his build is knotted with muscle. Oddly, he still carries a small smith's toolset hung at his hip, perhaps a quirk attributed to routine. But even having given up his leather smith's apron for that of the barman, he is nonetheless an enormous and intimidating man, moving slowly and deliberately as a walking tree might.