Chapter Text
To the far east of Faerûn, besides the famous Sea of Fallen Stars, lies the ever-changing empire of Chessenta. A large, coastal collection of city-states connecting to an open water bay, the empire sees its fair share of merchants and pirates alike. Despite its lack of diversity when it comes to "races" within the metaphorical four walls of the cities, Chessenta welcomes many folks looking for work within their vastly different locations.
An old mage once described the empire as “a mosaic of nations crafted by ten different artists... all of which were blindfolded”. They had yet to be proven wrong in their statement.
Three things unified the city-states together, however: their love of culture and all things creative, their cravings for defence and thirst for victory, and their history of surviving against all odds. No matter what threatened the Chessentan people, they would always bounce back.
Twice as strong and twice as likely to come out on top.
They had their King to thank for their resilience. King Zohair wouldn't dare to let his kingdom fall to any neighbouring states. No matter what it cost him. A large brute of a human (with his dragonborn bloodline to thank), King Zohair led his armies on the front line, earning the loyalty of his soldiers with a more hands-on approach to fighting. Gone were his times of watching battles from his palace window. He would lead every fight to victory.
And that was a threat.
Ruling alongside him - as Consort and head of the theatre district in the palace's city of Mordulkin - Consort Arya lives up to their presence both on and off the stage. Living up to the fey blood that flows within all elves, his ability to transform into a whole other persona with some makeup and expensive gowns is often mistaken for illusionary magic. He always laughs those comments off, though. Their replies always ended up along the lines of using vast amounts of glitter, an abundance of stage presence, or a mixture of both.
The King and Consort seemed like an unlikely pairing - one battle-worn and serious, the other flamboyant and charming. They had yet to fail the people of Mordulkin or the Chessentan empire, anyhow. How could their people not question the dynamic?
It is in the Chessentan people to be curious, after all.
Most folks in Mordlkin were the usual races: humans, elves, dwarves and halflings. They were the first groups to populate Chessenta, so it often led to a moderate distrust for the other races over Faerûn. The occasional genasi, tiefling or dragonborn made their way from the docks to settle within the city - if they could stomach the odd questioning look or invasive question.
Best return to the docks if you can't handle showing your face to the crowds. Chessenta loves to watch performers, never mind the subject matter.
Each district in Mordulkin had its own quirks and offerings for locals and tourists alike. Outside the usual residential districts, there were streets upon streets for merchants, districts for selling crafts and handmade goods, mercenary guilds with taverns to share opportunities for fame and fortune, and - of course - the large theatre district. Consort Arya put his heart and soul into ensuring his hobby would thrive between the training camps and army bases.
A place to unwind after combat. He was no cleric, but he knew laughter was quite an effective form of medicine.
With large ports and beautifully clean and well-maintained buildings of lavish design, Mordulkin - and the wider parts of Chessenta - made for a prosperous and well-loved empire.
Everything was kept and maintained to the highest degree of beauty: be it the large camps for combat training or the extravagant magic academies for aspiring mages. So long as you hid the parts that make you different to the norm; it was easy to find a place to belong here.
King Zohair had definitely maintained his promise to return the empire to its former glory. He had introduced the idea of mages working alongside soldiers - a rare sight in the eastern parts of Faerûn. His most prized accomplishment, in his opinion, had to be the introduction of dragon mounts. Small, red dragons, tamed by the best stablehands Mordulkin has to offer. They could make quick work of ferocious battles.
So long as their stablehands kept control of the temperamental beasts.
This ludicrous yet effective idea was welcomed openly by their King, what with the large temple for Tiamat standing proudly on the outskirts of town. He had put a great deal of funding to see to its restoration, and it had truly paid off. The Goddess of Dragons would be proud to see the influx of new followers in this large city of soldiers and performers.
Especially when it could easily lead to greed and destruction.
For it is a known fact that everyone dares for a little more in life.
And who's to say you can't take what you want by force?