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This poem came out of my musings about the different ways survivors of the Upheaval would have explained what happened. Who will they blame? And what changes to law and custom will they make as a result? Of course, the answers were different in every sundered shard...this is just one of them.
This is the rede of believers who lived during the sundered times in an area they called Mojeveterk, or "all that's left". A woman named Shliiritiri was their prophet, and came to be seen as a holy divine messenger, secondary only to the sacred land itself. The religion survived the opening of the barriers, and is still a political force in the region around Affamarg.
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