Greetings, People of Fortannis,
My name is Dain Halloway, and I reach out to you now not just with words, but with a call—a call for help, for hope, and for the future of my people.
Let me tell you a story.
I was born in the land of Typhut, a quiet woodland realm nestled deep within a hidden pocket of the Mists of Fortannis. It was a place untouched by conquest, unscarred by war. We lived simply, peacefully. But peace, as it turns out, doesn’t make you invincible.
Fifteen years ago, the earth rose against us. Quakes shattered our homeland. Thousands were lost, and the land itself was broken beyond healing. With heavy hearts and empty hands, we fled into the Mists—our only compass a desperate hope for survival.
When we stepped out of the fog, we found ourselves on Olarith: a vast island continent of smoldering mountains, verdant forests, and creatures unlike any I had ever seen. Not humans. Not elves. Not dwarves. No High Races at all—just beings most of Fortannis would call "monsters." But here, they are something else: the citizens of a unique alliance known as the Concordant Pact—seventeen factions bound together in fragile balance by law, magic, and purpose.
But we, the refugees, were not part of that Pact.
To them, we were just "Outlanders"—strangers, interlopers, vermin. We were met with suspicion, rejection, even violence. We were weak, yes—but not broken. We had survived the fall of Typhut. We would survive this too.
Ten years ago, my mentor and dear friend, Endrik Ashhand, stood before the Concordant factions at their decennial summit, The Reverie, and begged for our inclusion. He was turned away. We were seen as disorganized, rootless, and useless.
But we are not useless. And we are not rootless. We are Outlanders, yes—but we are also craftsmen, healers, warriors, scholars, adventurers, and survivors. Over the past decade, we have fought to unite, to contribute, and to prove ourselves—not with pretty words, but with honest work and stubborn hearts.
And now, at long last, the chance has come again. The next Reverie approaches, and with the help of the wise Lamias of the Speakers of the Cunoasteri, we’ve earned a place on the docket once more. The leaders of the seventeen factions will gather, and if we can earn twelve of their votes, we will finally claim our rightful place as the eighteenth faction of the Concordant Pact.
But I cannot do this alone.
That’s why I call upon you, people of Fortannis. Outlanders, adventurers, heroes—I ask you to stand with us at the Castle of the Reverie. Every faction values something different—wisdom, strength, honor, innovation, spirit—and I know among you are those who embody these values in spades.
Your presence, your deeds, your voices—they could be the difference between exile and acceptance.
We don’t come asking for pity. We’re not begging for handouts. What we seek is a chance—a chance to build, to contribute, to belong. To earn our place not just in Olarith, but in the future of Fortannis.
If you have questions, I’ll answer them. If you need guidance, I’ll give it. If you’re willing to fight for us—I’ll be at your side.
We’ve come this far. Help us go the rest of the way.
In fellowship and fire,
Dain Halloway, of the Outlanders
My name is Dain Halloway, and I reach out to you now not just with words, but with a call—a call for help, for hope, and for the future of my people.
Let me tell you a story.
I was born in the land of Typhut, a quiet woodland realm nestled deep within a hidden pocket of the Mists of Fortannis. It was a place untouched by conquest, unscarred by war. We lived simply, peacefully. But peace, as it turns out, doesn’t make you invincible.
Fifteen years ago, the earth rose against us. Quakes shattered our homeland. Thousands were lost, and the land itself was broken beyond healing. With heavy hearts and empty hands, we fled into the Mists—our only compass a desperate hope for survival.
When we stepped out of the fog, we found ourselves on Olarith: a vast island continent of smoldering mountains, verdant forests, and creatures unlike any I had ever seen. Not humans. Not elves. Not dwarves. No High Races at all—just beings most of Fortannis would call "monsters." But here, they are something else: the citizens of a unique alliance known as the Concordant Pact—seventeen factions bound together in fragile balance by law, magic, and purpose.
But we, the refugees, were not part of that Pact.
To them, we were just "Outlanders"—strangers, interlopers, vermin. We were met with suspicion, rejection, even violence. We were weak, yes—but not broken. We had survived the fall of Typhut. We would survive this too.
Ten years ago, my mentor and dear friend, Endrik Ashhand, stood before the Concordant factions at their decennial summit, The Reverie, and begged for our inclusion. He was turned away. We were seen as disorganized, rootless, and useless.
But we are not useless. And we are not rootless. We are Outlanders, yes—but we are also craftsmen, healers, warriors, scholars, adventurers, and survivors. Over the past decade, we have fought to unite, to contribute, and to prove ourselves—not with pretty words, but with honest work and stubborn hearts.
And now, at long last, the chance has come again. The next Reverie approaches, and with the help of the wise Lamias of the Speakers of the Cunoasteri, we’ve earned a place on the docket once more. The leaders of the seventeen factions will gather, and if we can earn twelve of their votes, we will finally claim our rightful place as the eighteenth faction of the Concordant Pact.
But I cannot do this alone.
That’s why I call upon you, people of Fortannis. Outlanders, adventurers, heroes—I ask you to stand with us at the Castle of the Reverie. Every faction values something different—wisdom, strength, honor, innovation, spirit—and I know among you are those who embody these values in spades.
Your presence, your deeds, your voices—they could be the difference between exile and acceptance.
We don’t come asking for pity. We’re not begging for handouts. What we seek is a chance—a chance to build, to contribute, to belong. To earn our place not just in Olarith, but in the future of Fortannis.
If you have questions, I’ll answer them. If you need guidance, I’ll give it. If you’re willing to fight for us—I’ll be at your side.
We’ve come this far. Help us go the rest of the way.
In fellowship and fire,
Dain Halloway, of the Outlanders
