Optoglean Tales Novels - Places and Cultures
The Pagalan Chronicles - Series One
Banton Island – The Bantonese People
The people of Banton Island, as portrayed in The Pagalan Chronicles, are a hardy, independent, and deeply resilient folk, forged by sea winds, stony soil, and centuries of standing alone against the greater tides of history. Banton, though often peripheral to the mainland powers of Pagalan, holds a distinct cultural identity that is both proud and fiercely protective of its land and traditions.
Descended from a mix of old Pagalanic settlers, seafarers, and frontier clans, the people of Banton possess a stubborn pragmatism, a fierce sense of local loyalty, and an ingrained mistrust of distant rulers. Their lives are shaped by the rhythms of the sea, the cycles of farming, and the defence of their borders, not only from foreign threats like the Cordinens, but also from the ever-shifting political allegiances of the mainland.
Though they are slow to trust outsiders, they are deeply loyal to those who prove their worth, and kindness runs beneath their weathered exteriors. Honour, work, and land are the three values most sacred to them, and these shape not only their domestic life but their response to war and politics alike.
To Morganuke, Banton is not just his home, it is the crucible of his early life, the place where he learned to work, to love, to fight, and to question. Raised among Stovin and Plarem Beldere, guided by Fraytar DeLance, and challenged by Calarel Francite, he embodies many of the island’s traits: quiet strength, loyalty, a sense of the land’s pulse, and a deep scepticism of authority unless it is earned.
Ventor – The Cordinen People
The people of Ventor, homeland of the Cordinen race, are a warlike, conquest-driven people, whose society is built upon the principles of domination, militarism, and enforced hierarchy. In The Pagalan Chronicles, the Cordinens stand in stark contrast to the other free peoples of Pagalan, embodying a ruthless creed of strength, subjugation, and martial supremacy.
The Cordinen tribes of Ventor were once a fragmented people, dwelling across the jagged ranges, ash plains, and iron-rich lowlands of the Ventori Peninsula. Over centuries of conflict and unification under warlords and later autarchs, they were forged into a singular, brutalistic power bloc. Their culture is rooted in conquest, and their identity revolves around an unyielding belief in Cordinen racial superiority and the divine right to rule by force.
From the harsh basaltic coasts of the Ventori shore to the fortress-cities like Cryantor Ventor, Cordinen children are raised from an early age to revere war, despise weakness, and devote themselves to expanding the reach of their empire.
Cordinen society is rigidly stratified: generals, field commanders, and war priests hold positions of absolute authority, and all others are expected to serve with unquestioning obedience. The military is not a part of Cordinen life, it is Cordinen life. Their cities are barrack-hives. Their temples are war halls. Their art, such as it exists, depicts conquest, obedience, and the eternal glory of the Cordinen ascension.
They maintain slave populations drawn from conquered peoples, including Epleons, Bantonese, and even low-born Cordinens who fail to meet military standards. These slaves labour in the forges of Cryantor, the salt mines, and the breeding pits that maintain Cordinen stockpiles of war-beasts and siege engines.
Their faith, such as it is a bleak spiritual philosophy that venerates order through fear, the extinguishing of chaos, and the sacrifice of the individual to the might of the collective.
The Cordinens view other cultures not merely as enemies, but as sub-castes in waiting, societies to be broken, reshaped, and absorbed into the great mechanism of Cordinen supremacy. Their long-standing war with the Epleons is not a border conflict, it is an existential crusade, intended to crush the very ideals of freedom, individuality, and alliance.Introduce your brand
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Lobos – The Epleon People
The people of Lobos, homeland of the Epleon race, form one of the most enduring and sophisticated known civilizations in The Pagalan Chronicles. Nestled between fertile plains, river valleys, and ancient highlands, Lobos has long been regarded as the cultural and political heart of Pagalan, a land of elegance, tradition, and layered authority. The Epleons are a proud, refined, and aspirational people, known for both their love of excellence and their fierce defence of their heritage.
At their core, the Epleons are a people who believe in balance between honour, beauty, and order. They enjoy the pleasures of life, fine food, literature, craftsmanship, music, and noble sport, but never without a sense of duty, legacy, and formality. Though they are no strangers to war, their vision of life extends far beyond conquest. They value philosophy, architectural splendour, and the art of governance just as much as they do swordplay and cavalry charges.
Among the Epleons, personal pride is not arrogance but a moral obligation, to uphold family name, serve with grace, and contribute to society in both word and deed. Even the lowest-born farmer will speak of the Epleonic Code, a set of principles extolling courage, honour, loyalty, and refinement.
Lobos is governed by a complex and ancient tripartite structure:
The King’s Court – The monarch and the noble houses hold executive power, overseeing diplomacy, taxation, and law.
The Casdredon – The spiritual and scholarly arm of Epleon society, the Casdredon Priests oversee temples, libraries, and educational institutes. It is composed of priest-scholars and seers who interpret sacred traditions, celestial omens, and philosophical law.
The Military High Command – The martial pillar of Epleon society, led by generals such as Commander General Yaloop. Epleon armies are disciplined, honour-bound, and steeped in both tradition and innovation. The military, though powerful, is not autonomous, its actions must answer to the King and the Casdredon High Priests.
This triad ensures that no single faction rules unchecked, and that war, faith, and law coexist in a delicate but enduring balance.
Cadmun – The Cadmunese People
The people of Cadmun, as depicted in The Pagalan Chronicles, are a proud, vigorous, and sea-hardened race, renowned across Pagalan for their martial strength, fierce independence, and seafaring prowess. Hailing from a rugged and windswept southern land of fjords, granite cliffs, and ancient forests, the Cadmunese have carved out a resilient and adaptable culture that blends warrior tradition with mercantile savvy.
Cadmunese are typically tall, with broad shoulders and a naturally athletic build. They are best known for their distinctive red hair, ranging from deep russet to flame-bright, and striking green eyes that seem to reflect the forested highlands and stormy seas of their homeland. Their weather-worn skin and calloused hands speak of a life spent in harsh conditions, whether at sea, on the march, or forging steel in the mountain holds.
Their gait is purposeful, their posture proud. Whether clothed in a naval surcoat, mercenary leathers, or a captain’s cloak, a Cadmun always carries themselves like a soldier, even in peace.
Cadmun society is deeply tribal in origin, with a strong sense of clan loyalty, tempered in modern times by federated city-states and seaports united under the High Council of Cadmun Major. Though they do not have monarchs, they elect a High Warden to preside over decisions of war, trade, and diplomacy.
The Cadmunese are widely regarded as exceptional fighters, and many serve abroad as mercenaries, bodyguards, or captains-for-hire.
The Cadmun Navy is a respected maritime force in the region, composed of swift caracks and iron-clad war barges. Their vessels are built for both speed and resilience, allowing them to outpace raiders and outlast storms alike. This naval strength has secured Cadmun trade routes and brought economic prosperity through trade with Lobos, Banton, and the desolate lands to the south.
Though historically isolationist, the Cadmunese have become increasingly vigilant of the Cordinen threat, especially as Cordinen ambitions have begun to test Cadmun’s sea borders and trade lanes. They view the Cordinen war machine with suspicion and disgust, seeing in it the antithesis of their honour-based warrior culture.
Recognising the existential nature of the threat, Cadmun has joined the Epleon-Banton alliance, sending ships, soldiers, and officers, such as Lengrond Smidrich and Novius Caradoc, and of course Commander General Falcar Tradish, to bolster the defence of Pagalan’s free realms.
Trebos – The Trebosian People
The people of Trebos, homeland of Melinor Skoln, are a cultured and prosperous folk, known throughout Pagalan for their wealth, diplomacy, and political neutrality. Trebos has long remained untouched by the wars that have ravaged Pagalan, choosing instead a path of economic strength, peacekeeping, and shrewd negotiation. Nestled in the fertile valleys and coastal cities of the southern continent, Trebos is a realm of gleaming marble towns, cultivated vineyards, vibrant marketplaces, and tranquil academies.
Trebos is governed by a civilian elected council, composed of representatives from the major cities, merchant guilds, artisan unions, and land-holding families. This Council of the Assembly, as it is called, is known for its emphasis on debate, consensus, and civic accountability, and holds national interests above all factional or ideological disputes.
The people of Trebos are deeply civic-minded, taking pride in their laws, infrastructure, and cultural institutions. Education is widely accessible, and scholars, engineers, architects, and artists are well supported. Trebosians value reason over emotion, diplomacy over conflict, and commerce over conquest.
Trebosians are often viewed by outsiders as charming, elegant, and urbane, but also aloof or overly cautious. They cultivate an image of sophistication, fluent in multiple languages, skilled in the arts, and impeccably dressed in flowing robes or tailored garments dyed in hues of gold, jade, and wine-red.
They are famed for their oratory, poetry, and music, and host grand seasonal festivals that attract dignitaries and merchants from across the continent. Their cuisine is refined, their cities clean, and their sense of order meticulous.
Despite their gentility, they are not naïve. Trebosians are skilled negotiators and pragmatic traders, always seeking the upper hand in a deal, yet rarely stepping into outright deception. Their neutrality in the wider war is born not from cowardice, but from deep strategic calculation.
Trebos is also a place where Morganuke searches for early answers about his heritage
Trebosians are generally of olive complexion, with dark or auburn hair and deep brown or hazel eyes. Their physical features tend toward slender builds, fine bone structure, and expressive features, often accentuated by elegant clothing and modest jewellery.
They carry themselves with the quiet dignity of a people unaccustomed to invasion and trained in decorum and statecraft from an early age.
Trebos is also a place where Morganuke searches for early answers about his heritage
Far Northern Islands
The people of the Far Northern Islands are a stoic and self-reliant folk shaped by harsh winters, salt-laden winds, and the mercurial moods of the northern sea. Their home, a scattered but proud archipelago made up of Quinn, Pinto, Crystalia Major, and Crystalia Minor, sits like a chain of weathered sentinels at the edge of the known world. Though distant from the theatres of war that plague the mainland, these islands play a quiet yet significant role in the economic and political equilibrium of Pagalan.
Winters on the Far Northern Islands are long, dark, and punishing, with biting gales and ice-choked harbours. Yet the people endure with a calm tenacity, drawing their livelihoods from fishing, coastal foraging, shipbuilding, and long-range trade. Summers are short but productive, marked by communal harvests, open-air markets, and seasonal voyages to Lobos, Trebos, and even the fringes of Ventor.
The surrounding waters teem with fish, whales, and hardy seaweed crops, which the islanders trade for grains, textiles, and southern luxuries. They are master seafarers, with a long tradition of navigating icy waters and storm-laced channels, often aboard clinker-built vessels reinforced for the cold.
Though isolated, the islanders are not insular. Their survival depends on their ability to trade and remain diplomatically neutral. Thus, they have cultivated a culture of measured hospitality, cautious diplomacy, and quiet strength. Agreements are often sealed not with ceremony, but with a shared drink, a clasped hand, or the honour of one’s word.
Far Northern Islanders typically have pale skin, often reddened by wind and salt. Their hair is commonly fair, light brown, or sandy, and eyes of blue, grey, or sea-green are dominant across the archipelago. Life in the cold has bred strong, thick-boned physiques, and their attire is practical: layered wool, seal-hide cloaks, fur-lined boots, and water-resistant tunics tailored for survival at sea.
They speak with rolling, musical accents and are known for their dry humour, deliberate speech, and a measured, almost philosophical approach to problem-solving. While not quick to trust, they are fiercely loyal once a bond is formed.
As of the events in Search for Morganuke’s Roots, the Far Northern Islands have remained politically neutral in the widening conflict between the Cordinen Empire and the Epleon-led alliance. This neutrality is not born of naivety but of strategic necessity: both Lobos and Ventor are major trading partners, and the islands’ economies would collapse if they alienated either side.
Far Southern Lands
The people of the Far Southern Lands of Pagalan are a hardy, tenacious folk shaped by the relentless severity of their environment. In a realm where winter dominates the calendar and summer is but a brief thaw, these men and women have carved out a way of life founded on resilience, resourcefulness, and quiet perseverance.
The Far Southern Lands lie at the bleak southern edge of Pagalan, a place of long nights, wind-scoured plains, and frostbitten coasts. Here, the earth is often iron-hard, the skies perpetually grey, and the sea cold enough to kill within minutes. Snowfall lingers into spring, and even summer yields only meagre warmth. Arable land is scarce, forests thin, and inland travel perilous due to shifting ice and treacherous ridges.
The people survive through fishing, seal and whale hunting, ice trapping, and limited coastal trade. Agriculture is near impossible, so they preserve their food carefully, and depend on bartering with Cadmunese traders for tools, cloth, and salt. In exchange, they offer dried fish, blubber oil, animal pelts, and hard-crafted goods of bone, stone, and driftwood.
Communities are small, isolated, and deeply interdependent. Each person knows their role, whether hauling nets, tending to smokehouses, weaving hides, or guarding against wild creatures that roam the frost.
At the heart of this remote society is Deleneos, a fortified settlement overlooking the Southern Ice flow. Built from stone, packed snow, and whalebone, it serves as the only true centre of population and governance in the region.
The people of the Far Southern Lands are stoic and solemn, not out of sadness but survival. They speak little but observe much, and value action over rhetoric. Trust is earned slowly but lasts for life.
Most have weathered skin, light or sandy hair, and pale blue or ice-grey eyes, their features shaped by wind, salt, and snow. Clothing is layered, thick, and handmade, fur-lined cloaks, sealskin boots, and woven woollen tunics dyed with ash, moss, or fish ink.
They trade mostly with Cadmun, whose sailors brave the southern seas for blubber oil and pelts. They remain largely untouched by the mainland war, both due to their remoteness and their perceived lack of strategic value. Their knowledge of weather, coastal currents, and the stars makes them quietly respected by navigators and seers alike.
The Nebulee – Tales of ancient civilizations
The Nebulee on Pagalan is a region spoken of in hushed tones and half-remembered legends, a place veiled in mist, mystery, and mortal dread. Lying far beyond the known shipping routes of Pagalan’s western seas, it is not marked on most maps, and where it is, it is denoted only by vague strokes, warnings, or faded runes. Mariners call it “the Weeping Sea,” “the Drowned Reach,” or simply “the Place Beyond the Fog.”
The Nebulee is a vast, ever-shifting maritime region, where dense, shimmering mists rise eternally from dark waters, concealing islands that appear and vanish like ghosts. The air is heavy and still; the light diffused into a silvery pall that confounds direction and time. Compasses spin aimlessly. Stars vanish. Even sound seems stifled, cries don’t echo, oars splash without ripple, and voices fall flat in the air.
Winds behave strangely here, and storms erupt without warning. But the greatest fear lies in the unnatural silence between tempests, where ships drift helplessly, only to vanish into the shroud without a trace.
Tales passed down from seafarers and coastal folk describe monsters of impossible shape, vast shadows swimming beneath ships, and eerie whispers from the fog that drive crews mad. Entire armadas have disappeared, swallowed whole by The Nebulee, leaving nothing behind but lifeboats filled with salt-crusted bones or journals ending in madness.
Ancient legend tells of a lost race dwelling within. Ancient scrolls tell of an ancient race called the Patronese. A people cloaked in vapor and time, possessors of strange powers and artefacts that defy all known magic or science. Some say they are the remnants of a civilization older than Pagalan itself, banished or self-exiled to the mist bound sea. Others believe they are guardians of an artefact so powerful, it warped the world around it.
According to one fragmentary scroll, believed by some to be apocryphal:
“They speak not with words, nor light, nor dream. They wait beyond the world’s breath, in the place where time forgets.”
Despite the warnings, Morganuke finds himself inexplicably drawn to The Nebulee, as if some invisible force tugs at the deepest recesses of his mind. He dreams of impossible spires rising from glassy waters, of a black obelisk inscribed with glowing runes that pulse in time with his own heartbeat, and of a voice, not malevolent, but ancient and sorrowful, calling his name.
The Ridge
The Ridge in the eastern sea of Pagalan is a fractured and perilous region of sea and broken land that lies between the mainland of Pagalan and the dreaded mists of The Nebulee. Treacherous, beautiful, and shrouded in ancient ruin, The Ridge is thought to be the scarred remnant of a cataclysmic event, an upheaval so vast that it shattered islands, stirred the deeps, and twisted the very nature of the world in its wake.
The Ridge is not a single landmass but a sprawling archipelago of volcanic islands, jagged reefs, sulphurous vents, and narrow, blade-like sea passages that cut through basalt cliffs and shattered stone. The waters here are treacherous, boiling in places with subterranean heat, still in others like a holding breath. Volcanic plumes can rise suddenly from beneath the sea, and great stone arcs and towers rear like the vertebrae of a titanic beast broken and buried beneath the waves.
Though the truth is obscured by time and forbidden lore, many believe The Ridge to be the result of a world-shattering event, a war between ancient powers, a failed experiment with primordial magic, or even the collapse of a long-lost continent. Some Epleon scholars refer to it as the Scission, an era-ending rift that broke the world’s balance and sealed away something that should not have existed.
The geological strangeness of the Ridge is evidence enough. Magnetic fields go awry. Time passes unevenly in places. Creatures appear that resemble no known species, as if spawned from a forgotten age, or another plane altogether.
