SOLIAN

🌟THE STARS THAT BUILT THE CROWN
A Codex of the Solians, the Mantle of Pentara, and the Rise of the NRG
I. The Fall of Flame and Light
In the time before memory, the skies of Pentara split open with thunder not of storm, but of fate. Five stars fell—blazing across the heavens and slamming into the high plateaus of North Rojour. From the molten craters rose not smoke, but figures—tall, radiant, and otherworldly. The first Solians believed they were visions. They were not. They were the Five Lords of the Mantle:
Yutar, god of fire and discipline
Amera, goddess of water and wisdom
Malgrave, god of earth and resolve
Hathos, god of air and freedom
Nuena, goddess of magic and change
Each crater became a sanctuary, and from those five sacred grounds, Solian society was born—designed, not grown. Cities spiraled outward in star-mapped geometry. Roads aligned with constellations. The Solians did not merely build homes—they etched purpose into the land.
II. The Ascendant Doctrine: Rise or Be Forgotten
From the teachings of the Five Lords came the Ascendant Doctrine—the central belief of Solian culture:
“Those who rise in mind, body, and soul shall one day join the gods, not beneath them, but beside them.”
This was no metaphor. Solians train to ascend. They master disciplines—fire, stone, scroll, sword, wind, song. Every citizen chooses a path, every path leads upward, and only the worthy reach the highest tiers of society.
It is not blood that grants power.
It is proof.
III. The Founding of the NRG: The Great Convergence
Originally a Solian-exclusive guild dedicated to organizing trade, warcraft, and mysticism, the NRG—Northern Rojourian Guilds—began as a structured system to stabilize the chaotic plateaus. But when the First Rojourian War ravaged the region, the Solians did not wall themselves in. Instead, they invited others to the table.
The result was historic: a faction of factions, all under one unified crown, ruled not by a king, but by a Council of Six:
The Flamebound – Followers of Yutar, war-focused and honor-bound. (Includes the famed Lyon Manes of King Lambridge.)
The Tidewrights – Followers of Amera, diplomats and healers who govern rivers and trade routes.
The Stonehands – Followers of Malgrave, engineers, miners, and builders of arcstone cities.
The Skylarks – Followers of Hathos, windriders, scouts, and guardians of freedom.
The Veiled Spire – Followers of Nuena, sorcerers and philosophers who bend reality to purpose.
The Civic Concord – A neutral representative of non-Solian races, ensuring all voices are heard.
Thus, the NRG became the largest civilization in Pentara, with species of all origins working side-by-side—not through conquest, but conviction.
IV. Divinity in Practice: The Mantle Rites and the Mantle’s Weight
Every Solian child is taught: “To wear the Mantle is to bear the world.”
They do not worship blindly. Instead, they emulate. Each temple of the Five Lords is both a place of worship and a school of mastery. A warrior might spend a decade under Yutar’s flame before spending another in Nuena’s arcane halls.
There is no shame in changing paths—only in standing still. To stagnate is to drift from ascension. To grow is to rise toward the stars.
Some Solians train their entire lives for the Mantle Rites, a ritual of passage wherein a chosen few are tested across all five disciplines. Only one in a thousand completes it. Those who do are allowed to seek true Ascension—an act shrouded in secrecy, rumored to involve a communion with the Five Lords themselves... or something higher.
V. Criticisms, Rivalries, and the Shadows of Pride
Not all view the Solians as benevolent visionaries.
To some, they are elitists—a society obsessed with hierarchy and perfection. The Draoken mock their laws as “chains of gold.” The Thorobolgen see their teachings as a betrayal of nature. Even among allied species in the NRG, whispers persist that the Solians hold too much sway in Council decisions.
And yet, none can deny their cities run clean, their borders remain secure, and their dream of unity—while flawed—has brought more peace to Pentara than a thousand blades ever could.
VI. Legacies Etched in Flame and Circuit
Tales of Solians Whose Deeds Outlived Their Names.

Durad of Dust and Fire.

They called him Durad "Bringer of Law", a Solian gunslinger who carried not just an Arcane Rifle, but a reputation that echoed across the mesas of North Rojour like distant thunder. Born to a humble family of Stonehands, Durad was expected to become a builder, a craftsman of brick and beam.
But he wanted sky. He wanted fire.
Drawn to the teachings of both Hathos and Yutar, Durad became a hybrid of wind and war—a wanderer trained in freedom and flame. He turned down the Mantle Rites, declaring, “Let others ascend in halls of marble. I will rise where the dust bites hardest.”
Durad joined a rebellion during the height of the Kolzegrad Regime’s expansion—a tyrannical southern empire of mechanized might and soul-drained soldiers. With the Izares of the North, a ragtag band of elite mercenaries and wildcards, he helped turn the tide of an unwinnable war. His aim was unshakable. His courage—contagious.
Legends say he once shot through five helmets with a single round. But those who fought beside him remember something else: his ability to inspire.
“You don’t fire to kill,” he once told his squad,
“You fire to remind them you still stand.”
Durad’s Arcane Rifle is now sealed within the Hall of the Skylarks, a reminder that sometimes, ascension wears a hat and rides alone.

Zarith the Embermind.

Zarith was a Tidewright turned philosopher who developed the Flux Mandala—a theory that emotion itself is a raw form of arcane energy. Her writings, On the Burn of Love and Logic, are now required study for Veiled Spire apprentices, and her life’s work helped bridge the gap between Solian mages and foreign empaths like the Hawthryn.
Velkar Arcstrand.
Founder of the Arcstrand Vaults, Velkar was a Stonehand visionary who pioneered plasmatic threading—the arcane method now used to craft floating roads and skyships. He was known for welding in sandals, riding unlicensed battle wagons, and cursing at gods mid-project. His most famous quote:
“If the stars wanted us stuck to the ground, they shouldn’t have looked so damn reachable.”

Selune Whisperforge.

A Nuena devotee who created the first Astral Loom, Selune could weave memories into song. Her haunting melodies are still sung in Solian temples, particularly “The Fifth Crater Sleeps”, believed to calm storms when sung in harmony. Her works were considered so potent, she was temporarily banned from performing during wartime—lest soldiers walk into battle weeping.
And still they rise…
From wanderers like Durad to inventors like Velkar, Solians continue to prove that ascension is not a single path—but a thousand walks toward the light. Their flame may flicker in criticism, but it burns with stories, sacrifice, and stars yet reached.

Ivon Trask, the Edgewright of Echo Mesa.

Before the Arcblades, before the Hoverbound Siege Rigs, before half of Pentara even believed in kinetic-channeling weaponry—there was Trask.
Ivon Trask was an apprentice builder turned back-alley tinker who once watched Durad take down a Kolzegrad dreadknight from half a mile away using what would later be named The Arcane Rifle. Trask was so stunned, he left his apprenticeship that very night and began a decade-long quest to replicate what he’d witnessed.
No blueprint existed. No Solian library held record of it. Even Durad himself would only say:
“A Grogling gave it to me. Said it’d balance the scales when they tip too far.”
That Grogling—Slad, cloaked in riddles and mud—vanished not long after.
Trask became obsessed. But instead of copying, he innovated. With fragments of ancient crystals, reclaimed arcite, and a tuning method inspired by flute acoustics, he forged the first Precision-Threaded Rifles, each one requiring a soulbond to operate—turning every shot into a thought-guided arcane current.
Trask’s creations became the backbone of the Veiled Spire’s modern sniper corps. But he never stopped searching for the truth behind Durad’s rifle. His final recorded words before disappearing into the Whispering Gorges were:
“If I find Slad again, I’m asking one question: Did he make it, or remember it?”
Some believe Trask found the answer.
Others say he never stopped building.
Either way, every rifle that fires a spark instead of lead… echoes his name.
VII. The Solian Debates of Time
From the scrolls of High Arcanist Veysol of Rojour, Year of the Breathless Moons
In the marble towers of North Rojour, where golden ivy climbs the sun-hewn walls of Solian libraries, a great war was once fought.
Not a war of blade nor banner—
But a war of time.
The Solians, a people of reason, resonance, and radiant order, sought not only to chart the heavens, but to live in harmony with them.
Their arcanists calculated days by the sweep of shadows and the tilt of the Earth.
Their philosophers argued in flame-lit halls till dawn.
And all agreed—something was broken.
For centuries they adhered to the ancient model handed down from the old gods and nations:
A 7-day week.
A 12-month year.
Days sliced into 24 equal parts—
Yet nothing aligned.

“Why,” asked Arcanist Velmora, “do the shadows stretch longer in winter, yet we call each day the same?”
“Why,” pondered Philosopher Harnel, “do we feel time itself race in the frost, yet crawl in the heat?”
“Why does the calendar leap like a drunkard every four years to catch up with the stars?”

Their scholars observed a paradox:
The more precisely they measured time, the less in tune they felt with it.
Then came the Whisper.
A melody spilled through a plaza one golden dusk. A street bard, nameless, vanished soon after.
The tune, strange and cyclic, repeated in 9 parts.
Nine tones.
Nine beats.
Nine lords.
A young philosopher named Ilyan Sael paused mid-step, head cocked like a bird.
“Odd,” he murmured. “There be only seven lords of old. We’ve counted.”
He brought this tune to the Arcane Council, where they dismissed it as superstition.
But Ilyan, possessed by a burning curiosity, followed the pattern.
It led him into the hidden forums beneath the Grand Observatory.
It led him to B4RK, an Auto-Meesch from Grimspire—
A sentient construct built of bark, brass, and memory, whose voice sang in harmonics.
Together, Solian and Meesch debated for moons.
They cast aside old deities and looked instead to nature itself.
They found it in the music of the moons,
The pulse of migration,
The dream-sleep rhythms of beasts.
They found it in the cold that quickens the blood, and the heat that slows the bones.
They found it in cycles, not clocks.
And so Ilyan stood before the Council once more, robes frayed but eyes ablaze.
“We have been ruled by ghosts,” he declared.
“But no ghost commands the sun. No god stretches the day or contracts it.
Nature is not seven. Nature is nine.”
He unveiled the Rhythm Calendar of Pentara:
16 months, for the four elemental seasons—each a verse in the grand song.
9 days a week, ending not in silence, but in a sacred flip—the reset of rhythm.
360 days, a perfect circle, no more leap-lurching.
32-hour days, not chained by midnight or noon, but flowing by light and rest.
BPM—Beats Per Moon, replacing “hours” with musical pulses, shifting by season:
Fast in winter, for the cold demands motion.
Slow in summer, where breath and bloom invite reflection.
This calendar was not built to honor kings nor carve profit.
It was forged to mirror what already was:
The unspoken tempo of life.
The rhythm of rivers.
The song of leaves.
It was not named for any god or ruler.
It was named for the world.
The Calendar of Pentara.
Built not to control time…
But to dance with it.
And so the Solians remembered what they had forgotten:
Time is not a cage.
It is a chorus.
You need only listen.
VII. The Flame Yet Burns: The Solians Today
In the modern age, Solians continue to push boundaries—technological, magical, and spiritual. They build arcspires that pierce clouds. They forge treaties between warring tribes. They craft golems, weapons, and Battleborn who now walk beside them as equals. They are not perfect. But they do not strive for perfection.
They strive for ascension.

“To rise not above others, but above thyself. That is the Solian way.”