Stillmere
A Country blinded by Denial
Culture & Global Standing
Stillmere is forgotten in treaty halls.
Its name appears on no banners.
Its goods—fine, hand-wrought, shaped in mountain silence—are sold as Velmaran-made in foreign markets.
Yet the city remains beautiful:
A lakeside gem, quiet and clean, now favored by exiled nobles, scandal-burdened dignitaries, and those who need time to be forgotten.
Among themselves, Stillmerens whisper:
“We are not citizens. We are scenery.”
Government & Control
Officially, Stillmere is governed by Elder Councils, elected through community acclaim.
In truth, it is ruled by The Folded Court—three imperial agents who guide law, trade, and appointment from behind closed doors.
Most Stillmerens believe they are free
But laws arrive rewritten, candidates vanish quietly, and trade routes always favor Velmaran coffers
Only the sharpest minds see the strings—and they rarely speak of them
Military Status
The Stillmeren military was dissolved nearly a century ago, absorbed into Velmara’s standing force.
Garrisons, noble escorts, and road patrols are now staffed by Velmaran soldiers
Local taxes fund their presence
Older generations see this as a national wound
The young call it “practical peace”
Stillmere’s shields now bear another crown. Few raise their eyes to it.
The Lake That Watches
Stillmere draws its name not from motion—but from its absence. At the heart of the realm lies Threnval Lake, a vast, unmoving body of water stretching 300 miles from north to south, cradled between the Galecrag Spine and the Deadlake Mountains. At its broadest, it spans nearly 80 miles, yet its surface remains eerily undisturbed—even in storm.
They say Threnval remembers.
That it holds every name whispered in surrender.
That no stone cast into its depths will ever break the surface.
To travelers, it is a marvel.
To Stillmerens, it is a mirror that never lies.