For some months I’ve been working on my own Fantasy rulebook and setting designed ideally for mass battles.

Over the coming weeks I’ll be using this series to explore the development of the setting, factions, mechanics, and themes behind the game. Some articles will dive into rules and battlefield systems. Others will focus entirely on lore, cultures, or narrative concepts.

Previous Articles

• Orders & Omens: A World in Balance
• Orders & Omens: The Orcs
• Orders & Omens: The Stone-Kin

Humans are perhaps the most difficult race to make interesting in fantasy. We already know the shape of them. Kings, castles and religion.

At their worst, the Humans often become the default faction. Ordinary people surrounded by exotic races.

While building Orders & Omens, I tried to make Humanity feel distinct. Not more heroic or wiser, just shaped by the world around them.

Humans in Orders & Omens find themselves in the shadow of their past. What would a civilisation terrified of forgetting their past look like?

This gave me the idea of the Faith of Memory.

The Kingdoms of Humanity

Humanity is divided, though old chronicles speak of ancient Kings of Kings who once held sway over all the realms, though the last King of Kings died two hundred years ago.

Humanity exists as a collection of rival Kingdoms, each shaped by their own fears and ambitions.

Hawkmor

Hawkmor is often referred to as the frontier kingdom. Generations of Orc raids and border wars have created a hard people who value martial skill above all else.

Young nobles of Hawkmor proudly undertake Tusker Hunts, riding south in search of Orc warbands, and hoping to return bearing tusks as proof of their bravery.

Heartmere

Heartmere lies towards the centre of the Human lands and is possibly the most prosperous being sheltered from many external dangers. Heartmere thrives through its fertile lands and trade.

Heartmere sees itself as the future of the Humanity and believes that its King, King Sedric VI should be the new King of Kings.

Norrwyn

The northern kingdom is still scarred by the devastation of the Ash Years, and distrust of the Elves runs deep within its borders. Though conflict with the Elves has long ended, memory of their unprovoked fury lingers.

Eastmark

Eastmark is the eastern seafaring kingdom, a land of merchants and explorers. Its rulers once dreamed of distant colonies and lands beyond the sea.

I increasingly found whilst developing Humanity that every kingdom feels shaped by what it fears the most. But above their rivalries, there is one institution almost all Humans trust.

The Faith of Memory

The Faith of Memory stands at the centre of Human civilisation, and at first glance it appears comforting. Its halls are lined with books and scribes quietly preserve knowledge.

Its Chroniclers travel between kingdoms recording everything the humans learn of the world. The Faith exists for one purpose above all others, ensuring Humanity remembers its past. To the Faith, forgetting is dangerous and has caused kingdoms to collapse because wisdom was lost.

History repeats itself because people fail to remember what happened before. This shapes every part of Human society.

The scribes of the Faith endlessly copy books by hand and maintain their libraries obsessively. Histories are preserved, not because they matter now, but because they may matter in the future. What knowledge they have has become sacred.

Scribes and Chroniclers

The Faith maintains vast orders of scribes who spend their lifetimes preserving humanity’s history.

As books age, they are carefully copied by hand. Then copied again. And again. Much of Humanity’s understanding of the world survives because generations of anonymous scribes refused to let knowledge vanish.

Travelling Chroniclers move between kingdoms documenting rulers, wars, disputes and treaties. Some rulers welcome them, while others tolerate them, but few trust them.

“If Humanity forgets itself, what remains?”
– Belen the Chronicler

Redaction

The Faith does not possess inquisitors in the traditional sense, instead they have the Redactors.

Those judged dangerous to Humanity may be erased from memory itself their names struck from records. Portraits burned and books altered. Mentions are quietly removed from official histories.

The intention is not death. Death is remembered. Because to the Faith there is no greater punishment than being forgotten.

Officially, Redaction is rare but necessary. Used only against those who threaten Humanity itself. Yet there are whispers that have spread in recent years after the Faith’s military arm intervened in the city-state of Miamor. The Faith claimed its rulers had strayed too far from Humanity’s path. The city still stands, but many who once governed it no longer appear in records.

Fear and Preservation

Humanity in Orders & Omens is not tolerant, or entirely unreasonable in its fears. After all, Orc raids remain real and the Stone-Kin seem to grow increasingly distant. The Elves are viewed with suspicion, particularly in the northern kingdoms.

Many Humans believe the world grows more dangerous, and perhaps they are right. But fear has a way of strengthening institutions, especially those that promise safety, and in Orders & Omens, especially those promising memory.

One of the things I’ve enjoyed the most whilst building Humanity has been trying to avoid portraying them as either heroes or villains. But I wanted them to feel understandable, a civilisation frightened of its demise and terrified of repeating old mistakes.

Even if doing so slowly changes what Humanity itself becomes, because in a world obsessed with memory perhaps the most frightening question is:

Who gets to decide what deserves remembering?

Next Week

I’ll possibly explore the unsettling role of the Elves, and why maintaining balance in this world may sometimes demand terrible things.

For some months I’ve been working on my own Fantasy rulebook and setting designed ideally for mass battles.

Over the coming weeks I’ll be using this series to explore the development of the setting, factions, mechanics, and themes behind the game. Some articles will dive into rules and battlefield systems. Others will focus entirely on lore, cultures, or narrative concepts.

Previous Articles

• Orders & Omens: A World in Balance
• Orders & Omens: The Orcs

Like the Orcs, when building a fantasy setting, the Dwarfs come with just as much baggage. Everyone imagines them with their underground holds, heavy armour, axes, long grudges and an unhealthy interest in gold. And again, like the Orcs of Orders & Omens, some of those ideas still exist.

The Stone-Kin, as they preferred to be called, are mountain dwellers, and are stubborn. Their armies are resilient and difficult to move. The human kingdoms depend heavily on their craftsmanship.

But while thinking about their background, one of the questions I asked myself was:

What would a civilisation built around endurance actually look like?

Not just a people who live a long time, but a people who think in centuries. Because in a setting where preserving memory if first and foremost it felt strange for the Dwarfs to just become short warriors who drink and grumble. I wanted them to feel ancient and steadfast.

It should be a civilisation that survives because it remembers. Not through stories or books, but the very stone their homes are made from.

The Stone-Kin

The first change was very simple for me. They do not call themselves Dwarfs, but amongst Humans the name remains common. But to themselves they are the Stone-Kin.

I wanted this name to reflect how they would see themselves, not just as inhabitants of mountains, but as people shaped by them.

Stone-Kin settlements are not the underground holds of Tolkien or Warhammer with halls carved beneath the peaks, but instead they stretch across mountainsides and through hidden valleys. Bridges span impossible drops between cliffs, and terrace farms climb the mountainside.

I wanted their settlements to feel less like caves and more like a civilisation that was built around the mountains rather than inside them.

No Kings

One of the earliest decisions I made was that unlike other fantasy Dwarf settings, the Stone-Kin would not have kings. Instead the Stone-Kin govern themselves through the Assembly of Holds.

Assembly of Holds

Each hold sends an emissary to debate matters of trade, defence, law and diplomacy. No singular ruler commmands them all.

To the Humans this process often appears frustratingly slow as Stone-Kin debates can stretch for months, or even years. But to the Stone-Kin slowness is not weakness, simply caution.

The mountains are not hurried
– Stone-Kin Proverb

The reasoning behind this was fairly simple. If Humans tend towards ambition and Orcs towards speed, I wanted the the Stone-Kin to feel patient and deliberate.

A civilisation more concerned with stability than glory.

The Hall of Laws

At the centre of the Stone-Kin civilisation stands the Hall of Laws. This Hall does not sit within any hold, but exists separately as a neutral ground where decisions are debated and remembered.

The Hall itself is lined with immense stone tablets containing the laws and agreements of the past. Every ruling, every alliance and every promise carved into stone.

“Stone-Kin debates exhaust most Human emissaries. Though whether this slowness is wisdom or stubbornness depends on who is asked.”
– Belen the Chronicler: The Races of the World

But even stone does not last forever, time wears even mountains smooth and some tablets have become so ancient that age has slowly erased portions of them, causing some to lose their meaning.

When this happens the Stone-Kin gather to debate about what their ancestors intended. Only once a new agreement is made are the words carved once more into a fresh tablet.

I found myself drawn to this idea while building the setting. That even memory can erode and history slowly changes, not necessarily because people lie but simply because reasons have been forgotten with time.

Memory Through Stone

One of the central pillars of Orders & Omens lore is how the cultures preserve themselves. The Humans preserve their memory through books, the Orcs through stories and rituals. The Stone-Kin preserve their memory through stone.

They believe what is carved will endure.

Law matters deeply to the Stone-Kin society because laws make up their memories and they provide proof that decisions were made, and mistakes were learned from.

Unlike the Humans whose histories may be rewritten, or the Orcs, whose stories may shift with each retelling, the stone feels permanent.

Even if this permanence may itself prove to be an illusion.

“Stone remembers, but even mountains surrender to time eventually.”
– Vaelorian the Listener

Silent Holds

Even amongst the Stone-Kin though, uncertainty has crept in. Seats at the Hall of Laws sitting empty at gatherings and Human traders who visit the mountains speak of the Silent Holds. Stone-Kin settlements where forges still burn, meals remain on tables untouched and gates stay barred. No bodies, or signs of battle, just silence.

The Stone-Kin rarely speak of these places openly and when they do they change the subject quickly.

One of the things I’ve enjoyed the most about building the setting for Orders & Omens so far has been taking familiar fantasy ideas and trying to take them down slightly different paths.

The Stone-Kin should feel familiar. Stubborn, resilient and masters of stone. But hopefully there is something else to them now. A people who endure because they remember, or at least try to.

Next Week

I’ll likely explore the Humans and the Faith of Memory, or perhaps the unsettling role of the Elves in maintaining the world’s fragile balance.