Devout worshippers, rememberers of the lost Goddess and reclusive remnants of a past age. The Navarians are a people who the world left behind. About 400 years ago, they were a united people with those who make up the Serans and the Javenians in modern times.
They lived under the rule of their holy Goddess, a benevolent queen who saw to it that her people lacked nothing. It was a reclusive paradise, in a world that was spinning out of order. But one day, the Goddess disappeared, leaving her people behind. Navaria quickly crumbled without her, and soon divided into three nations as those who became the Javenians and the Serans left. Disasters led to Navaria declaring the outside world lost and forbidden, and little by little, wonders became only memories that they desperately kept alive. That is, until a Seran expedition ventured into Navaria and made contact - causing the first contact with the outside world in centuries.

The first thing an outsider notices is their unnaturally white skin, pale as starlight, with dark purple veins visible underneath. Their hair is jet black, just like their eyes which are like black pools of shadows. In their almost colorless tattered robes and wraps they may seem sinister. But in truth, they are a wary people, oppressed by centuries of melancholic memories and legends. Those few who have met a Navarian on the roads quickly find that they are far more friendly than their appearance might suggest, though they may be a bit of a drag with their stories of their lost Goddess.

The land in Navaria is just as grim-looking as its people. Rippling valleys are cut by craggy clefts and mountains. Hillsides are peppered with abandoned temples and mausoleum sites, as age-old monuments and statues are being eaten by moss and lichen. But there is a harsh beauty in it, and if you squint, the lost glory of Navaria can almost be seen still today.

Texts from the library

The Expedition - How Navaria abandoned its seclusion

Art from the library


Short mood text

The clouds hung heavy and grey in the sky, mournfully watching the group of greyclad figures making their way up the steep hillside. Treading through the thick underbrush, they reached out, supporting and pulling each other through the wilderness.

Finally they made it up to the top of the hill, and sat down to rest a bit. All except one. He walked a bit away from the group and out on a cliff that gave him a good view of the valley below. The valley that had been his home for all his life. The valley that had been the home of generations before him. None of them had ever seen the outside of it. But now, they were leaving it.

His name was Denvos. The first Navarian who had spoken to an outsider in hundreds of years - as far as anyone knew. It was he that had brought the seran expedition forward. In a way, this changing of history was partly his responsibility. For better or worse.

By order of the Crown they were to make their way westward into Serdanos, to seek out what they called the Senate. To present themselves, and tell of their history. Talk about their long-lost Goddess. What happened afterwards... Was unsure.

The leader of their little entourage called out to him. It was time to continue. He lingered for a few moments, apprehensive to leave that small part of the world behind. But finally he turned, and ventured forth into the unknown.