Located on the Eastern bank of the Ildyvar river, south of the sacred lake Iarieth, Bozhivar is the second most populous city in the whole of Tremanath. Most buildings are old and made of stone, and those still standing see newer wooden structures leaning and perching on them for their sturdy support. The ones that have not resisted the test of time become the foundations of a new one, either the rubble being reused, or becoming the true base on with a new home will be erected. Yet keeping these structures up for many years is challenging in Bohzivar. The humid, hot weather of the region is a bane for the buildings, rotting them quickly, with lichens, fungus, even up to large trees and vegetation growing along, on top, or through the man-made structures. Bohzivar is also known as the “City of Cats”, both after the felines that exist in huge number, and the humans that imitate them, pouncing all around the different levels of the city, enjoying the freedom vines and bindweeds grant for exploration. Cats are not the only animal dwellers of Bohzivar, although by far the most numerous. The Raschera invite all, human and beast, to join them in communion under the sacred city’s care, with Man and Nature in perfect harmony and respect.
The Meditation Garden by Eddie Mendoza
Bohzivar is the largest city of Indyvar and one of the holy cities of the Raschera, where their highest of prophets – the Gani Baccar – lived his last waning years. The city’s deep religious importance cannot be overstated, it its countless temples, shrines, churches, and steeples. For outsiders and non-Raschera, the running joke is that there is no corner left unadorned with any type of altar; pranksters will often say there actually only one, coincidingly the holiest of all; a trick for pilgrims. While also true for religious festivities, it is during times of crisis and natural disasters that the city becomes the convergence point, with refugees flocking, pleading for assistance, while volunteers flood the city to answer the call in such an hour of need. When that happens, Bohzivar becomes even more populous than the sprawling capital Char Char Saran, with the gates are flung wide open, the city expanding beyond the rise dry patch it was established on. It is always difficult to say where Bohzivar ends, as frequently the surrounding marshlands are covered with improvised encampments and field tents for those the inner-city cannot shelter. Regardless, the city is kept very colorful in the Raschera tradition of tying colored ribbons to tree branches, asking for good fortune and wishes to be, and thanking for their lucky stars. Ganis (Raschera priests) will stand in joyful guard of these lands, singing and praying for the well-being of the world, tending to those around them, and spreading their ethos in the Spiritual Migration.
Being key to Raschera has made Bohzivar both a symbol for those striving for an independent Indyvar, as well as a target for those who would crush any dreams of sedition. While against Bohzivar and its Raschera majority, the city has been the epicenter of violent battles and skirmishes, most infamously as part of the Revolt of the Great Famine. Troops loyal to the ruling Emperor Sanzai IV of the Crane House of Dingshu did their utmost best to seize the city to implode the moral of the rebels, who did mount a solid defense for an impressive amount of time. In the end, the loyalists would start executing innocents, prisoners, any one they could lay their hands on, in front of the city walls. Horrified, it would not be long until the Raschera believers exited the city in droves, attempting to stop the carnage. All of them were put to the sword, the marshlands running crimson and the land being blood-drunk from the savagery. Their morale shattered, the rebels surrendered and died, or got lucky and fled, and Bohzivar was put to the torch. But Mother Nature never forgets, and It protected its own. The damage, that would otherwise been catastrophic, let the city still standing. Once the military caravan moved elsewhere, the Raschera returned to do what they do best: heal the wounds of the world.
Cover picture: Forgotten Glory by JonasDeRo
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