The Tale of the Tower Song

This week, we hear from Maddakim, the Voice of History, as he scribes the history of the Tower Song to his Forge Children students.

Five nations raise the people of Spectrum, and of these nations, all but one are built within a monolith’s shadow.

(Of course we must not forget distant Naudil, nestled within the waves, who lays illegal claim to our coast. Yet speak to any Naudillon exile you meet, and you will find he claims kinship with those of the continent, heretical though he might otherwise be. And it is true that even lost, broken Naudil has a monolith: our traders speak of its song and claim that on a calm day, you can spot the apex of the Water Tower sprouting from the waves in a gesture of defiance, while that hateful nation grows around its base like a bitter coral.)

Hm? Ah yes, the songs. You have heard them too, to be sure. All citizens of our mighty nations have heard their Tower’s song, moaning softly over the dunes, the waves, or down the mountains. Even the people of Dondomis claim to hear their song, Towerless though they be. Only the hedge witches of Nemoda, who shun their Tower and live apart, can rightly claim to have never heard the Songs.

Yet historians quibble over the songs’ origins. Do they truly come from these ancient, unknowable monoliths? And have they always sung so? Some claim it was only after Zakerus fashioned his Aria of the Forge that folk began to attribute music to these otherwise patternless sounds. Others claim it is no song at all, but a warning from the gods. And the Sogruni hold that it was the songs that gave births to the nations - lonely, scared vagabonds drawn to their melodies, until a nation took shape around their heels, and they called themselves a People.

If you ask me, I do attribute it to Zakerus, fires warm his soul. He was a genius beyond his age, and we sing the Aria of the Forge in his memory, and in celebration of mighty Qadam, Our Blessed Jewel.

Qadam’s tale is a long one, and we weave its chapter anew every day. You know Qadam to be a fertile breadbasket, coddled by rivers and irrigated farmland as far as the eye can see. But it was not always so. Our ancestors, following the Fire Tower’s shadow, raised their stakes upon the coast in Shuraba. And there we grew, a beacon on the hill, for generations, a font of knowledge, wisdom and generational wealth. People came from across the continent to make their dream in Shuraba, yes, even the vaunted engineers of Mitz gave up their toys and dalliances in the skys to nest amongst our people. We were the Jewel on the Coast, the Fire in the East, the Rising Moon and Stars.

It was Naudil that sunk Shuraba.

Their sleek warships spitting fire from the ocean waves. Half of the city disappeared overnight. Our clever thaumaturgists would have cast them off regardless had Naudil not worked its gibbering magicks to collapse the earthen mantle into the ocean. And so Shuraba was lost.

But from the ashes rose Qadam, Our Blessed Jewel. Beneath the Fire Tower, our engineers worked tirelessly to dam the rivers and flood the lowlands. Within a generation, the Kido Desert had become the Kido Plains.

Meanwhile, Naudil was humbled by their hubris, felled by civil war and by our navies. Children no longer fear the shore; we no longer sing tales of the dreaded Naudillon raiders. No, today you will find them peddling their facile wares or shoreslip rides within Qadam’s own walls, alongside the beautiful tapestries of the Sogruni tradeswomen and the latest fashions from Dondomis’ tailors. Today, you will find Qadam to be the trade capital of the world.

But we have not forgotten our past. Shuraba lives on in Qadam; one echoes the other. It was in Shuraba that our people were forged in blood and fire. And it is in Qadam that our song has begun anew. Here, the Fire Priestess hears the people’s tale and pleads their case to the Voices. Here, the Voices speak the will of the Tower and its people. Together, all are made strong.

But you, oh Children of the Forge, you must never forget your duty. For you are of the body of the Fire Tower; you are its hands, its feet. And without you, Qadam would surely be lost.

Heed my words, then. Sing the Aria; scribe your lessons. For the Priestess foretells a great trial on our horizon, greater than the Fall of Shuraba, more terrible than the Valdan Breach. Fire and blood shall come again, within your lifetimes it is certain.

But Qadam will never fall.

Maddakim’s tale is just a portion of the lore behind Tower Song: Echo, and we are not done sharing the world that we are building for this RPG.

Development Update

The backstory and world, notional for so long, have really started to take shape. I think we’re confident in saying we know now what the game will be about and the story we want to tell with it.

We are otherwise on track to actually have a “beatable” build of the game done by mid-April. That will be a big step for us in development and let us really start to pick apart what’s working and not working to make this a polished product.

See you next time! Or can’t wait? Come hang out with us in Discord!