Founding & Rise
Asmerel began as a scattering of Evergild lodges on the shore of the great Loch Merel, built where the Hum rang strongest yet remained easily reached. At first they were guest-halls for noble houses, pavilions where resonance could be heard without the long trudge into the scarps. Over generations the lodges grew terraces, cloisters, and colonnades, until the place became a town in its own right — the only one in its upland region, Valmorren.
Structure & Spirit
Asmerel stands as the gateway into Valmorren’s sacred highlands, the place where all travellers must pass. Here the Hum gathers close to the surface, not left wild but coaxed into courtyards and chambers so that even the untested may taste it; the land’s raw harmony is drawn into form. Folk say it is a jewel-box town, laid against the loch with pale walls that catch the light and turn voices sharp as silver.
All the buildings outside the more rustic pilgrim quarter bear a set of Rite Tiles. No two buildings are quite alike, yet together they glimmer with the language of the elements.
Pilgrims of every station come through the gates of Asmerel: nobles carried in litters, common folk trudging in with boots worn thin. From here they are led outward under escort, to the sacred sites of Valmorren where the resonance rings truest. The town is their threshold — neither the harsh scarps nor the deep sites, but the waiting place before them.
Within, Evergild quarters hold mosaic cloisters, echo-halls, and hymn-song that bends the air. Around them sprawl hostels, taverns, and pilgrim lodgings that grew from rough tents into permanence. Here the noble Houses hold salons and debates, voices resonant beyond nature, while the humbler pilgrims sleep two to a cot or under canvas at the edge. Yet all alike are touched: dreams turn vivid, wounds knit quickly, and the land itself seems to lean close.
Tensions & Perspectives
The mingle is uneasy. Nobles disdain the mud-stained pilgrims, while pilgrims mutter of Evergild vanity. The Vythans themselves rarely set foot here — they do not work inside Asmerel, but they watch from the highlands beyond, wary of how the Hum is channelled and bent.
Awareness varies: a few know the cost of such channeling, most ignore it. Some years the town feels luminous, others tired, the balance shifting with how heavily the Evergild draw and how deeply the wild sites are tended.
Pilgrimages Outward
From Asmerel the pilgrimages spread like spokes into Valmorren: to vanishing rivers, terraced lakes, hollow-pools, and the ridge of two spirits. Access is carefully shaped: Evergild guests are guided along curated routes, pilgrims take harder paths with fewer comforts. All routes begin here, at the lochside town, where the Hum is presented like a jewel in its setting — polished, accessible, never the whole.