Weaver Courts
The Weavers embraced this world as a new home, a treasure and a charge in equal measure. Today, after centuries of isolation, a tapestry of life and color is woven in their lands of Faerann, as the leaders of their season Courts eye beyond their borders with renewed interest…
Beware! Beware! Beyond go ne’er the green and brown gate!
For once inside, you cannot hide, the Forest Things await…
Braeonian Rhyme
Far to the west of the Hundred Kingdoms, beyond the Cairngall Range to the north and the Bitter Sea to the south, lies a primeval land, where the calls of exotic birds and the ceaseless rustle of leaves mark the edge of man’s domain. Deep within these lands, known to its inhabitants as the Faerann, the Weaver Courts, ancient cousins of the Spires, hold sway. Split into four seasonal Courts—Spring, Summer, Autumn, and Winter—these two great Exile nations could not be more different.
Where the Spires turned their back on their innate gift of Life Binding and twisted it into Biomancy, the Weavers revere it, using it to shape almost every aspect of their culture. Where the Spires look upon Eä as a sacrificial staging point for their successful return to their Homeworld, the Weavers see Eä as a divine gift, and take their duty to nurture and protect it with the utmost seriousness.
Children of a lost world and inheritors of a riven society, the Exiles who left the Spires under the protection of the Eldest Dragons chose to abandon everything they knew and carried, and walk upon Eä with the intent of giving freely what gifts they possessed in exchange for the chance to peacefully share in the gifts the planet offered.
Under the tutelage of the Dragons—perhaps the only beings more fascinated with life on Eä than the Weavers themselves—the Exiles soon began to appreciate the complexity of the tapestry of life upon Eä. In time, they took a new name—Weavers—to reflect their new calling, and embraced the burden of healing the damage caused by their arrival.
Their main tool for this was their innate gift of Life Binding. Capable of binding the life force of two beings together, the Weavers quickly began to bond with the land they sought to heal. Breaking an age-old taboo, they started mingling their essences with those of the local environment, adopting the traits of local flora and fauna and, in turn, gifting them with some of their own awareness and sentience.
A physical description of a member of the Weaver Courts is almost impossible: each has embraced the gift of Life Binding , bonding with at least one other living being, and thus changing irrevocably. One might pass a beautiful Autumn Court maiden with eyes like those of a doe, hair a riot of thorns and roses, and cloven hooves for feet, as she converses with the lean Spring Court male whose long neck and feathered upper body ends in a parrot’s head but whose legs are covered in a fine fur and taper into raptor-like talons. Nearby, one might an ancient of Autumn who has repeatedly bound with the same grove of trees, becoming a towering humanoid figure encased in moss, bark, and forest detritus, who speaks in a voice like a hundred breaking branches.
This living tapestry is common in most Weaver societies, as the common people of the different Courts experience life through the senses of their chosen flora or fauna. But, alien as they may seem, they are outshone by those of the High Courts—mystical and spiritual leaders of the Weaver Courts who have somehow managed to use their Life Binding gift to bond with the elemental forces of Eä itself. Some manifest flaming coronae instead of hair, wear clothing of frost and snow, or bear claws and scales of pure obsidian, and other, even more exotic displays of power. Each Court is associated with an element: Water for Spring, Fire for Summer, Earth for Autumn, and Air for Winter.
Unusually many in the Summer and Winter Courts possess Elemental Bindings, leading these Courts to often see themselves as superior to Autumn and Spring—a frequent source of contention. Indeed, each Court can be considered a nation unto itself, with its own culture, goals, social mores, and rulers. Most Weavers do not concern themselves with the affairs of their betters, yet the ways of life in each Court often mirror the conflicts of their leaders. Competition amongst the Courts is fierce, and tensions can escalate into open conflict or even warfare, especially when members of the Higher Courts are involved, dragging their devotees with them.
As with the seasons, the power of each Court waxes and wanes. The Court of Spring has dominated for centuries, having led the restoration of the Faerann after the Fall, the Long Winter, and the Breaking. But centuries of ennui have dulled the luster of their achievements, and the other Courts are growing restless. Intrigues and plots are flying thick and heavy throughout the Courts, and maneuvering has already begun to see which Court shall rise and what agenda they shall pursue.
In such times, the Voice—the once-undisputed spiritual leader—has acted as a unifying force, or at least as a catalyst for restraint. But her words, they say, have become faint whispers, and one issue stands above all others: the Nyctimancy—the closing of Faerann’s borders. The name implies a cycle, that one day the borders will open again. It is debated every ten years at the Dance of Stars, when all four Courts assemble on the anniversary of the Exodus. The Voice hosts it at the Whispering Grove, which ensures that the ancient spiritual leader is ever presiding. Rather than interfere, the Voice allows her mere presence to inspire civility and some measure of cooperation in all matters but one: the Nyctimancy. On that, her voice has always been firm. The borders must remain closed.
Yet the Voice did not appear at the last Dance of Stars, and the Whispering Grove remained silent. Rumors abound. Still, no one dares challenge her authority—yet. As the next Dance of Stars approaches, and whispers grow that the Voice has been lost to her extensive bindings, the Courts prepare to push their agendas.