Maharaels Fist
Ill show them. All of them. My tower shall pierce the heavens. And from it I will look upon Rhomeia and Tarquinnia and their spires and walls, pathetic in comparison. And they will marvel and seethe in envy, the shadow of my monument looming above their every thought. They will hail me and curse me, but their feeble words will never reach such heights. All will marvel in its glory...even the gods! - Maharael Dagaris, The Silver Lord of Ainach -Many great cities possess monuments and towers by the dozen, works of the ambitious or inspired. Ainach however seems merely an extension of its tower. Maharaels Fist is Ainachs heart. Should it ever fall the city would wither and die. For Ainachs people it is blasphemy to even consider such thought.
Architecture
From the sprawling city of Ainach, Maharaels Fist springs forth in stark contrast to the land around it and pierces the heavens. The broad base where buildings have begun to scale its walls, the slums of the city fusing with ancient stone. Dozens of small towers and buildings sprouting from it, a sea of grass around an oaks mighty stem. Going upwards it slowly slims down, inclined circle built upon inclined circle, further and further into the skies. You may believe going on forever but the spire is cut jarringly at about 250 meters height. Jagged cuts mark the stone, the "roof" a mess of what remains of various floors, long since collapsed. Some parts have been repaired, the lightly coloured stone shining among the grey that is the towers outer shell. The towers flanks are branded by massive scars, chunks of the wall torn out by some titanic force. Inside one finds a labyrinth of cut rooms and hallways, columns and stairways, walls repaired in various ways. In the centre a cylinder clad in white stone were an intricate lift system, designed by Vardanias greatest engineer, transports people and goods from the highest floor down into the deepest catacomb. It is one of four essential systems, needed to keep the tower alive: the water pipes bringing clean liquid from the city's aqueducts, the sewage draining the buildings waste and the heater keeping the inhabitants comfortable at all times. These systems are as ancient as they are complex and there exists an entire guild, solely dedicated to keeping them functional. Closer to the top there is a mechanical floor. Here positioned are four dozen weapons, Rhomeian Strike Ballistae, capable of hitting targets at over 4 kilometres distance. They can break warships apart or raze entire formations in seconds. That plus hundreds of smaller scale defences make the tower impregnable. When threatened the people abandon the city and hide in the vast network of catacombs spreading from it. From both inside and outside the tower gives a complicated view. Damaged structures, repaired components, many walls are still as when constructed. Stone scorched, covered in moss, bleached by the sun, coloured both by weather and human hand. Pictures painted and carved, art and graffiti and above the large entrance giving way toward the cities enormous market, the face of its builder, the name of this titanic structure written by stone of shining white. Throughout the ages the tower has changed shape and form, as various architects have been guided by the whims of Maharaels descendants. Work on the tower never seized over the course of 300 years, until the storm braught the dream to an end. A picture of surreal yet calming beauty, of ancient history and pulsating life, ruined yet standing defiant. Maharaeal Fist stood over 2000 years, defying gods and man alike and will do so until the earth itself may swallow it.
History
It seems to be a fixture in our world that great movement only comes from the dreams of a few man and woman. Granted often foolish, arrogant, ambitious and downright idiotic...but grand dreams nonetheless. - Vendrik Meran, Fist Scolar of the Archives of Tojara -A Dream among a Silver City The city of Ainach, founded by Feran colonists sometime in the late 9th century DA, became a great centre of commerce under rule of the First Hegemony, which strove to weaken the stranglehold cities like Nurn and Sur held on trade into Vardania. Focusing on manufacturing, especially silverware and coinage, the city grew rich throughout the early 2nd millennium DA. It shook off Tarquinnian and Rhomeian rule and grew to become a powerhouse, its hold felt on all coasts of the world. This was Maharaels time. Charismatic, brilliant and determined he brought Ainach to its zenith in power. But there was something else that drove him. He saw the ancient cities of Rhomeia and Tarquinnia, the tall spires, massive walls, sprawling cityscapes. He dreamed of leaving his mark on the world. A monument so awe inspiring and enduring that ten thousand generations would remember his name... To reach the Sky He gathered the greatest engineers, architects and builders in his court and in the summer of 1526 DA the work began in earnest. Through the sweat of ten thousand workers and Shemrin, the old and secret chemic component that allowed the Rhomeians and Vardanians to build spires hundreds of meters high, Maharaels dream rose day after day. Within 18 years it reached 200 meters high and continued to grow. Ruling from his ever soaring monument Maharael lead Ainachs fortunes for close to 60 years before dying at the age of 88. His ashes were imbedded into his tower's foundation. His dream however continued to grow, floor by floor and over 200 years after his death stood at nearly 500 meters height. In time the entire government of Ainach had moved into the building: the bureaucrats, the various merchant guilds, the noble houses, the royal mint. One could easily say that all of Ainach sat within what had become known as Maharaels Fist, screaming his name to man and gods alike. In times of danger the whole city found refuge with its mighty walls and massive catacomb system. The tower stood against man and nature alike, an artificial mountain vulnerable only to time. Then came the storm... Storms Wrath In 1801 DA the Summer Coast was battered by a storm not seen in millennia. The gods it seemed wanted to wipe man from the earth. Between howling winds and crushing waves, the tower was struck by no less than ten thousand thunderbolts. And with a mighty roar the upper part of the spire broke, rushing to earth in a deafening roar. The building had lost nearly half its height and dragged thousands with it, among them the last members of house Gadaris. In time the city recovered. Rule changed between various cadet clans and merchant guilds. The tower was repaired where possible, other parts torn down if deemed too unstable. While broken in half the spire still proved an impressive image, towering over the surrounding land. The city's heart still beats and while most of the higher nobility have left to settle in extensive villas in the countryside, the bureaucracy, the defence system, the mint, they all remain where placed two centuries before and have remained ever since.
Alternative Names
The Envy of the Gods
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Very good article! I really like the amount of details and info you have put into this article. Certianly makes it very interesting to read. The description about the tower was beautiful and combined with the picture, reminded me of dark souls 3 a bit. As always , you manage to beautifully write articles through a masterful combination of storytelling and great worldbuilding at the same time. The grammar could use a bit improving at some parts but it isnt that big of a deal. Congratulations and keep up the great work!