Faur'ricai, Seat of the Survivalists
There are many remote places on Jhoutai, our planet has never encourages us to settle outside the bounds of civilization. That's the first reason why Faur'ricai is such an oddity, it is a city in the middle of frozen north, buried deep within the warm core of the frozen mountains.
The only people who strive there are the Survivalists of the Guild and those who have spent generations catering to them.
Faur'ricai is city built into the Northern Peaks in Dar’ru. The city is an old settlement that has been expanded by the original founding survivors into an entire headquarters, city, and university for survivalism.
It is the furthest north settlement on all of Jhoutai, and is covered year round by glaciers. On foot, traveling to the Seat of the Survivalist is a task in itself to prove worthiness to join the Survivalist's Guild
A Force of the North
We sat in silence around the crackle of the heater. None of us could find the strength to talk, the numb of the cold dulled away, making the numb of hopelessness sting all the harder.
Above us, a storm buffeted everything. Snow that could bury a body in a minute, winds that could pierce even the thickest coat. Yet within that blizzard, just a kilometer away from our mountain home, a war party of Malisyk sharpened their blades and took aim at our doorstep.
"No word from Faur'ricai?" Our diplomatic envoy spoke up. A Survivalist Adept herself, she had helped us find the war party to begin with. Without her and her sharp eyes, we would already be butchered for stew by the invaders by now.
The Watch Captain shook his head. "Nothing more is coming in and out. The Blizzard has gotten even worse. We can only hope they didn't bring enough fuel to warm themselves."
We sat in a mournful silence, tomorrow would be a bloody day.
At the gate, sat a ragtag militia behind the remnants of the guard. A couple dozen desperate souls versus a hundred well trained killers.
A trio of metallic thuds rocked the steel gate seperating them from the ruins of the outer town and the blizzard beyond. Rifles were raised and bows were drawn. One thought ran through everyone's mind. "It must be a trap."
The Guard Captain motioned one unlucky Nasyk forward. With slow and silent steps, he approached the peeking hole.
"Can you open up, please? I've done enough surviving for one day." A voice shouted, muffled by the giant hunk of metal in the way. The Guard slid open the metal window, and nearly dropped his pike at what he saw.
"It's Master Coldclaw!"
The Guard Captain rushed alongside his subordinate, peering through the gate at the grizzled white chin of a Survivalist Master. Even through the ongoing snow, his monolithic affectations shined like twinkling star in a dark grey sky.
"We took care of your Malisyk problem this morning. I hope we can get a warm drink to wait out this blizzard?" Behind Coldclaw, in the ransacked buildings, dozens of snowy hoods poked into view.
"Open the gate! Open the gate!" He rushed to do it himself, when none of his men could spring up to do it fast enough. It was not exactly an expected order under seige.
"We set off as soon as we got your message." The Master explained as the metal door slid open.
As the guild approached, hollers of victory and cries of joy erupted down the chambers of the city like a lit fuse. The Survivalists had claimed another victory, and the town spared.
Facilities
The corridors and caverns of Faur'ricai are built around a series of central shafts that run deep into the ground. Great rooms are carved from the mountain and supported by leaving great rock pillars to hold the cielings. In the modern era, the pillars have been retrofit with seismic connectors to allow further expansion.
Faur'ricai, stability-wise, is in a perfect place. No Corralum, little volcanic activity, and the cold outside prevents any overgrowth. Of course it is in the middle of nowhere, so getting their supplies in and out has been a monumental task. Done thanks to them having plenty of people ready to face the weather.
Teams of engineers and meta-technicians work around the clock to maintain critical infrastructure and deal with any structure weakening.
Several layers deep into the insulation of the mountain, a technological marvel hums away, powered by the geothermal below, the storms above, and the Meta generated by the Masters. A complex of pillar-supported stadium sized rooms, each situated one by the other. These rooms are constructed as mini-enviromental chambers.
Rooms can be modified to simulate any weather, from the harsh heat of Khatoum to the numbing cold of the mountains above. These are used to train and acclimitaze to different environments, and go a long way to help initiates get more insight to the challenges they will face.
The lower levels of the compound are used for research and development, product testing, and academics. At these levels Surivalists and their contracted engineers push the limits of technology to try and devise equipment to use in the field.
Survival requires Knowledge
On the academic floors, initiates and adepts alike learn from the Masters in all manner of natural sciences. Masters will also teach lessons of self-reliance and equipment usage in the university portion of the facility.
Multiple floors of the facility have been combined into a single grandhall that operates as a constant exposition floor, job center, dining hall, and common room. Monolithic statues of previous Masters over look the hall, looking over the masses of new initates and adepts.
What sort of protections and infrastructure is in place for those rooms? I have a feeling that these are also good chambers for testing terraformation, as well, and that the survivalists work closely with terraforming groups.