Long have the people of Sapience known of the lofty city of Arcadia, its
levitated peaks high above the clouds, filled with a similarly
lofty-minded citizenry. The wind-chilled fingers of scholars and
thinkers passed unmolested in their studies for generations, save for
the occasional raid from members of various city-states thirsty for
blood, gold, and greater experience.

Far below, in the oceans of Achaea, live the merfolk commonly
encountered by seafarers and strong swimmers alike. But when the drink
flows freely, a harbour master, sailor, or woman of questionable values
will tell you of a different race of the sea, not bound to the water by
their fishy bodies.

Known as the Tritons, their kind dwells in the depths of the oceans,
their lifestyles and culture untouched by all but the hardiest of
explorers and most unlucky of interlopers, destined for the silver mines
of the Triton city of Scyros.

The learned of Arcadia teach their young of a barbaric sea people,
scaled slaughterers and slavers, unworthy of the equality of race
Vastar's order espouses. The mystic augurs of Tritonic stock teach their
young of a mad race living in a doomed realm, stealing knowledge for
their own benefit and sustenance, led unswervingly by a mad god. Such is
the way of things when the most distant of people abide in hatred.

With the advent of shipcraft and the thriving growth of the Order of
Neraeos, the influence of the Sea spread on land like a tide, sweeping
away the decaying influence of the dormant god Vastar and His Order,
bringing disquiet to the people of Arcadia.

Disquiet turned to dread with the sudden and inexplicable death of the
Arcadian diplomat Irenus. Ramean, the gatekeeper of Arcadia, met
concerned explorers with rage in his eyes as they approached the
floating city. A Tritonic invasion had begun, he claimed, insisting that
there would come a time when Arcadia's defense would need more than the
vague, glossy-eyed interest of passing adventurers.

Skirmishes became full assaults as both sides went to war. Arcadians,
vastly outnumbered, opted for tactics of subterfuge, using empty ships
to lure raiding Scyrians into a conflagration of treacherous flame.
Their victory was dulled by the loss of yet more diplomats and
dignitaries, and the decimation of their scouts and fetchers.

The Arcadians declared the appointment of a new diplomat known as
Atoritha, one who could form alliances with the city-states and smaller
villages and towns across the land. With this proclamation began a cold
war between the Tritons and Arcadians, a campaign that continues with
building forces, bargaining, and bribing, the propaganda of each faction
filling the ears of any who will listen.

Penned by My hand on the 13th of Miraman, in the year 501 AF.