Return of the Scarlet Empress
This nation wasn’t always known as the Dreamspun Reaches, nor was it’s capital the Weaver’s Den. The name changed at the same time that the people underwent a strange psychological metamorphosis that coincided with the defeat of The Twin Thunders and their invading horde.
During the time of The Realm, Oakford was made prosperous from the many expensive and rare hardwoods milled by their camps upriver. Barbarians and Little Gods began raiding as their homes were hewn down in ever increasing numbers. Oakford’s forces began to spread thin as the lumberjacks moved ever deeper in to the forests. About two centuries ago contact was lost with one of the logging camps. Only a few days passed before the bodies of the loggers came floating downstream crucified on floating logs with terrible gashes all across their bodies. The Magistrate became worried and pulled most of the troops back from the other logging camps which lead to the deaths of even more workers. Several years later The Twin Thunders sacked Marita and Nathir then turned their sites on Oakford.
After a century of fighting, Oakford was near collapse. Its people had lost all hope. Just as the barbarians were charging the gates a miracle, in the form of glimmering fog, came upon them. The fog tore most of the invaders to pieces and sent the rest fleeing in mad terror back to their homes. With the beastmen defeated, the Magistrate addressed his people. The man’s demeanor was oddly calm as he spoke of his decision to rename his city in honor of the miracle that had befallen them. Thus the city was renamed Weaver’s Den and the nation The Dreamspun Reaches.
Over the next several months, the same calm demeanor that was exhibited by the Magistrate in his speech, befell the people he governed. Visitors to the city were always treated well, but there was something eerie about the citizen’s mood that seemed wrong. Any visitor that was seen asking too many questions about the strangeness that had washed over the city would disappear for a few days “on an errand” and reappear with the same eerily calm demeanor as a citizen. Soon after most would then move to Weaver’s Den and enter in to some sort of business partnership with a local that belonged to a similar trade.
Weaver’s Den is now a veritable paradise. Dozens of expensive resorts and pleasures for all tastes dominate the city. Anything can be found amongst the stalls of the market and the gambling houses are the most reputable in the entire Threshold. Even the lowest peasant can afford to live like a king for a few days out of the year as long as they stay away from The Guild representatives of the city.