Who are the Weaver Courts?
Far to the west of the Hundred Kingdoms, beyond the Cairngall Range to the north and the Bitter Sea to the south, lies a primeval land, where the calls of exotic birds and the ceaseless rustle of leaves mark the edge of man’s domain. Deep within these lands, known to its inhabitants as the Faerann, the Weaver Courts, ancient cousins of the Spires, hold sway. Split into four seasonal Courts—Spring, Summer, Autumn, and Winter—the Weavers revere their innate gift of Life Binding, using it to shape almost every aspect of their culture and viewing Eä as a divine gift, taking their duty to nurture and protect it with the utmost seriousness.
Capable of binding the life force of two beings together, the Weavers quickly began to bond with the land they sought to heal. Thus, today a physical description of a member of the Weaver Courts is almost impossible. One might pass a beautiful Autumn Court maiden with eyes like those of a doe, hair a riot of thorns and roses, and cloven hooves for feet, as she converses with the lean Spring Court male whose long neck and feathered upper body ends in a parrot’s head but whose legs are covered in a fine fur and taper into raptor-like talons. Nearby, an ancient of Autumn who has repeatedly bound with the same grove of trees, becoming a towering humanoid figure encased in moss, bark, and forest detritus, who speaks in a voice like a hundred breaking branches. Alien as such examples may seem, they are outshone by those of the High Courts—mystical and spiritual leaders of the Weaver Courts who have somehow managed to use their Life Binding gift to bond with the elemental forces of Eä itself.
As with the seasons, the power of each Court waxes and wanes. The Court of Spring has dominated for centuries, having led the restoration of the Faerann after the Breaking, the Fall and the Long Winter. But centuries of ennui have dulled the luster of their achievements, and the other Courts are growing restless. Intrigues and plots are flying thick and heavy throughout the Courts, and maneuvering has already begun to see which Court shall rise and what agenda they shall pursue. In such times, the Voice—the once-undisputed spiritual leader who led them away from the Spires—has acted as a unifying force, or at least as a catalyst for restraint. But her words, they say, have become faint whispers, and one issue stands above all others: the Nyctimancy—the closing of Faerann’s borders, discussed at the Dance of Stars among the heads of the Courts. But as the next Dance of Stars approaches, whispers grow that the Voice has been lost to her extensive bindings, perhaps forever. And the Courts prepare to push their agendas for the future of the Weavers and the world at large…
How do they play?
The Weaver Courts are our unique take on the archetype of the elusive, ranged skirmisher. Unlike traditional ranged units, members of this faction don’t rely solely on firepower to claim victory—instead, they introduce an entirely new combo-building dynamic to the game.
For the Weaver Courts, ranged attacks aren’t their primary source of damage. Instead, they serve as powerful enablers, applying statuses to enemy regiments while fast-moving melee allies close in to exploit their foes’ misfortune and complete the combo. Like the planting of a seed, Weaver regiments apply a universal Mark that—depending on Faction Rules, Supremacies, or Spells—can grow into a variety of effects.
Plan your round carefully—your strategy has the potential to blossom into success or wither away in failure!
Why should I collect them?
You are drawn to the eerie elegance of the Weaver Courts. Bound to their land, their very bodies woven to those of animals, plants, insects and even the elements themselves, the beauty of the Weavers is haunting, their tales enchanting, and their power has intrigued for millennia. Many are those who follow fickle dancing lights deep into the forest, those who hear an invitation behind the words of cautionary tales. But when you are one of the Weavers, you are not the allured, haunted by shadows that move at the corner of their eyes, or the trees that feel like they are watching. When you are one of the Weavers, you are the thing that awaits at the end of the trail.
Here, war is the art of life and death and the cycle of seasons, where warriors fuse with the wild, spells are spun like silk, and where the land itself hungers for the unworthy. If you crave a faction that wields nature not as a tool, but as a living weapon, where every battle is a symphony of creeping doom and monstrous grace… then the Weaver Courts await your command.
