Nobility

District I of the Plateau of Crowns

Dockton sprawls across the crumbling piers and cliffside alleys of the Plateau’s eastern edge—a coastal scar once carved by the Empire for labor and logistics. Now, it thrives on its own terms: brutal, self-regulated, and fiercely independent. It is a district governed not by ink and sigils, but by fists, secrets, and debt.

Governance: A Baron Above, a Gang Below

Baron Locke Helbrass holds noble dominion over Dockton and sits on the Council of the Plateau of Crowns. Yet, his method of rule here is not hands-on—it’s strategic. Dockton is a weapon: unpredictable, dangerous, but effective when pointed in the right direction. So long as it does not destabilize the rest of the Plateau, Helbrass allows it to be ruled by its own methods.

The real power in Dockton is Squire Camden Mcal—Helbrass’s retainer by day and undisputed leader of the Docktown Boyz, also called The Facebreakers, by night. Camden’s rule is not ornamental. It is physical, immediate, and backed by a reputation for brutal honor and zero tolerance for betrayal.

Theo Mcal: The Next Fist of Dockton

Among Camden’s most trusted lieutenants is his daughter, Theo Mcal—a rising force in Dockton’s violent ecosystem. Sharp-minded and sharper-fisted, Theo leads her own wing of the Facebreakers, specializing in control of the Mid-Piers, where trade, smuggling, and inter-gang diplomacy intersect.

Theo is known for her tactical mind and unflinching loyalty to her family and district. While Camden commands the old guard with a heavy hand, Theo commands the next generation—younger fighters, smarter smugglers, and those who want more than just blood on their knuckles. She blends gang tradition with streetwise innovation, making her a symbol of Dockton’s brutal future.

Where Camden rules with fear and respect, Theo rules with charisma and cunning. Some whisper that one day, she may replace her father—not through rebellion, but because even he will see she’s the future Dockton needs.

The Facebreakers: Gang or Government?

The Docktown Boyz control everything from protection rackets to law enforcement. Street justice is handled via bare-knuckle trials, ambush diplomacy, or the occasional well-placed disappearance. Civilians who respect the rules are largely left alone—and often protected from lesser gangs.

Camden’s crew includes his brother Ivan, the feral Rat Wilderkin Ick-Spit, and now Theo, who is rapidly becoming a power in her own right. Internal disputes within the gang are rare, and when they do occur, they’re handled quickly—sometimes with fists, sometimes with whispered warnings from deeper forces.

The Jacks: Secrets for Sale

Beneath the shouting and fistfights lies a quiet, pervasive intelligence network known only as The Jacks. Every member of this society is called Jack, and their identities are hidden—even from each other. They deal in secrets, favors, blackmail, and leverage.

You don’t hire a Jack. You pay one, and they decide if you’re worth helping. You don’t find them. They find you—usually just after you’ve said the wrong name too loudly.

Some say even Theo has begun using the Jacks to strengthen her position—trading secrets like weapons. Others believe the Jacks are loyal to Baron Helbrass himself. But in truth, the Jacks serve no one but their ledger.

Economy: Blood, Bribes, and Barrelfish

Dockton’s economy functions on barter, smuggling, and a black market more organized than most noble treasuries. Official taxes are collected—on paper. Real taxes are paid in coin, favor, or silence to the Facebreakers, who maintain stability in exchange for total control.

The Mid-Piers, under Theo’s watch, have become a vital artery for trade—licit and otherwise. Traders pass through cautiously but profitably, often preferring the predictability of Dockton’s gang law to the pettiness of courtly bureaucracy.

Culture: Scars, Songs, and Street Honor

Dockton celebrates survival. Tattoos, broken noses, and clever scams are badges of pride. Songs about past victories and present grudges fill the taverns—especially The Broken Fang, a known Facebreaker haunt.

There are no nobles here, only survivors. Theo, despite her noble bloodline through Camden’s service to Helbrass, is seen as Dockton-born and Dockton-bound. That’s why she commands not just fear—but genuine loyalty.

Dockton in Summary

District Titleholder: Baron Locke Helbrass

Local Power Structure: Squire Camden Mcal and the Docktown Boyz (The Facebreakers)

Rising Star: Theo Mcal, tactical leader of the Mid-Piers

Enforcers of Silence: The Jacks, a hidden information syndicate

Culture: Tough, prideful, self-governed by strength and secret

Dockton doesn’t want your pity. It doesn’t need your rules. It has its own—and they’ve kept it alive.

Not all who wear a coronet are true nobles. Recognition is earned through deeds, peerage, and formal acknowledgment. The Council of Nobles within the Plateau—and other kingdoms—guard such recognition carefully. Still, power takes many forms. In places like Dockton, symbols of authority can rise from the streets as easily as from a royal hall. May your regalia reflect not only your rank—but your worth.

“Many mistake finery for nobility, and title for worth. Both are errors I have seen cost fools their lives.”

You ask me how to see a noble, how to know one—not just by name, but by eye and bearing. Good. If you're to survive court, or better yet, rule within it, then understand this: in Tel’Vania, rank is not simply declared—it is displayed, codified, and enforced.

The lowest rung upon the noble ladder is the squire. Some are sons of noble houses seeking their first steps. Others, brutal brutes raised in blood-soaked gutters and given a chance at higher station. They wear the red belt, a symbol of both humility and blood owed. It marks them as servants of war, still unproven—tools of their knight-lord’s will.

Next come the knights, those who have sworn fealty, held their ground in battle, and earned their place. They wear the white belt—pure in symbol, but rarely in deed. It denotes a soul bound to chivalry, or at least what remains of it. Do not mistake a knight’s polished cuirass for honor. I've known more than a few with hands redder than any squire’s.

Above them stand the lords, true holders of land and law. You will know them by the chain of office, worn across the shoulders and chest—often gilded, often bejeweled, and always heavy. It binds them to duty, and to their people. Lords carry burdens, yes, but also influence. Their word shapes villages, their signature reshapes borders.

Then come the barons and counts, elevated not just by bloodline but by significance. They wear the chain, yes—but also the coronet. A ring of precious metal and subtle points, its shape a quiet dagger of authority. A coronet proclaims: 'I am no vassal—I am a power unto myself.'

And then, at the highest tier before the crown, the dukes and duchesses. They wield not only the authority of their holdings, but often the proxy of the sovereign themselves. Their symbol is the scepter—not always a weapon, but certainly a threat. It is both staff and sigil, used to close parliaments or open wars. When a duke raises their scepter, kingdoms pay attention.

Each of these symbols is more than decoration. They are keys. They open doors, command soldiers, excuse sins, and write history.

But remember this, and remember it well: Nobility is not earned through ornament. It is taken, kept, and held in the teeth like a blade. Many will kneel to the coronet, but they only fear the hand behind it. Be that hand, or bow before it. Now... shall we discuss how one removes a chain of office from a rival?"

-Lord Xyarl

By the hand of Lord Xyarl, Moonwarden of the Deepmist Veil In the ever-shifting realm of Tel’Vania, where mist-bound shards drift between veils of power and hidden pacts, the nature of nobility is neither uniform nor universally honored. It is a matter of local law, ancestral claim, and the weight one’s name carries—and like the mists themselves, it varies greatly from region to region.

The Sovereign Authority of Tel’Vanian Nobility Let it be plainly stated: within the bounds of Tel’Vania proper, nobility is the law. A noble’s word is final within their domain, and their authority stems from their title, lineage, and control of the land. There is no higher court than a lord within their own hall. If a trial is held, it is because the noble allows it—not because the people demand it. This system places immense power—and responsibility—upon the nobility. Each is expected to maintain order, secure their borders, and enforce justice according to their own customs. What counts as fair law in one duchy may be seen as tyranny in another. There is no unified code, only the rule of noble will.

The Plateau of Crowns and the Rule of the Unblooded

Unusual among Tel’Vania’s territories, the Plateau of Crowns is governed by those of no noble blood. Power here is derived from coalitions, elected councils, and meritocratic posts—a sharp deviation from the tradition-bound lands surrounding it.

Noble titles are not outlawed on the Plateau, but they are largely meaningless in practice. A visiting baron may receive a polite nod, but their orders carry no weight unless they hold real influence. Authority here is earned through action, not ancestry.

That said, Baron Helbrass of Tel’Vania stands as a singular exception. Through influence, leadership, and his role in the region’s defense, his title is recognized by all major factions on the Plateau—a rare acknowledgment in a land that has otherwise cast off noble rule. His word holds weight not by tradition alone, but by respect and earned authority.

Dockton and the “Uncrowned Kings”

In the lawless sprawl of Dockton, nobility is not just unrecognized—it is mocked. Here, power belongs to the strong, the cunning, and the ruthless. Gangs like the Docktown Boyz enforce their own brand of order, and figures like Camden Mcal rule with clenched fists and raw charisma.

These gang leaders often claim titles—“Boss,” “Prince of the Sludge,” “Baron of Breakjaw Row”—but such claims are unofficial and lack recognition beyond their turf. Still, within Dockton, those titles command real fear and loyalty.

True nobles are advised to tread carefully here. A coronet is more likely to draw blood than deference.

The High Decorum of Na’Azul

The city-shards of Na’Azul are home to a nobility obsessed with precision, tradition, and appearance. Here, titles are earned by bloodline and maintained through strict adherence to decorum—a code of conduct as rigid as steel and sharp as any blade.

Na’Azul nobles are expected to dress, speak, and act in accordance with centuries of established etiquette. Failure to maintain appearances is not merely shameful—it can be cause for social collapse or political exile. In Na’Azul, one performs nobility as much as one wields it.

Other regions may scoff at such rigid formality, but in Na’Azul, it is the very structure that holds their society intact.

Recognition Across the Mist

Many so-called nobles arrive in Tel’Vania from foreign shards, bearing grand titles from realms we neither know nor owe allegiance to. While their claims may be acknowledged out of courtesy, such foreign lords hold no legal authority within Tel’Vania’s lands unless a local noble grants them standing.

A “Duke of Winterglass” or “Lord of Skyreach” may impress in a ballroom, but they may not issue decrees, collect taxes, or command soldiers unless they have earned the favor of a Tel’Vanian noble—or taken land by force.

Power here is territorial and personal. Recognition is not guaranteed. Authority must be backed by presence, pact, or strength.

In Closing

The nobles of Tel’Vania are as varied as its landscapes. From the ritual-bound halls of Na’Azul to the blood-slick alleys of Dockton, the shape of power changes—but the truth of power remains: A noble’s word is law only where it is respected, and only when it can be enforced. Let the mistborn nobles remember: to rule in Tel’Vania is not a right, but a test. And to those who do not recognize noble law—be wary. Even the moon’s shadow holds teeth.

—Lord Xyarl, Moonwarden of the Deepmist Veil Speaker of the Pale Crescent, Keeper of Silent Edicts, Lord in Shadow

By decree of tradition and upheld by noble custom, the garb of nobility within the land of Tel’Vania is more than mere fashion—it is the outward symbol of one’s station, duties, and allegiance. While many standards of nobility are consistent across the realm, each Kingdom within Tel’Vania—including the prominent Kingdom of the Plateau of Crowns—has its own unique traditions and interpretations of noble attire. This guide outlines commonly recognized noble regalia, with emphasis on the customs of the Plateau of Crowns and its varied districts:

• Noble Rank and Attire Squire (Red Belt): Squires are easily identified by their red belts, indicating they serve a knight or noble. While not full nobles, squires often wear the livery or colors of their house, marking their aspirations and loyalty.

• Knight (White Belt): Knights wear a white belt as a universal symbol of their chivalric status. Many also don tabards, cloaks, or surcoats bearing personal or house heraldry, and are commonly seen with a sword or visible weapon as a sign of their martial vow.

• Lord or Lady (White Belt + Chain of Office): These nobles continue to wear the white belt and add a chain of office—a ceremonial collar or sash bearing symbols of their authority and region. This marks them as landholders or those with command over retainers.

• Baron or Count (White Belt + Chain + Coronet): Barons and Counts maintain the chain and white belt, but are also entitled to wear a coronet—a circlet of metal denoting their elevated rank. The design may reflect personal achievement or regional influence.

• Duke or Duchess (White Belt + Chain + Coronet + Scepter or Baton): Dukes and Duchesses are the highest-ranking nobles below royalty. They bear all previous regalia, plus a scepter, baton, or rod of office, which symbolizes their governance over vast regions or multiple baronies. Their coronets tend to be richly adorned and unmistakable in ceremony.

While the above serves as a general guide, each region within Tel’Vania adds its own cultural flavor to noble dress. Among the most prominent:

• The Kingdom of the Plateau of Crowns is a land of courts and councils, where noble attire is taken seriously. Its capital and noble seats adhere strictly to heraldic decorum. Baron Helbrass, for example, is one of the few nobles recognized by all major factions within the Plateau, respected across its courts and war councils.

• Dockton, a district of the Plateau of Crowns, presents a stark contrast. Known for its rough, streetwise power structure, Dockton has unofficial or self-declared nobles, some of whom adopt belts, chains, or even makeshift coronets to claim authority. While largely unrecognized by formal nobility, these symbols hold real power within the district's gang-run underworld—especially among groups like the Facebreakers.

• The Na’Azul of the Shrouded Vale insist on strict ceremonial dress. Their nobles incorporate obsidian, lunar motifs, and deep violet tones, and their coronets often bear celestial engravings. Magical embellishments are common among the elite.

• Rivers End, under Duchess Sylvia, observes traditional forms but favors naturalistic adornments—silverwood, antler, and vine often replacing or enhancing metals and jewels. Even the chain of office may be woven with living ivy.

In the many kingdoms of Tel'Vania, noble titles do not carry automatic recognition across borders. Each realm holds sovereignty over its laws, customs, and protocols surrounding aristocracy. A foreign noble entering a new kingdom is not granted the rights, status, or privileges they may enjoy in their homeland until they have undergone a formal Acknowledgment of Standing.

Upon arrival, it is customary—indeed, expected—for the visiting noble to formally present themselves to the ruling monarch, noble council, or appointed representative of the land. This introduction is performed with proper decorum, typically accompanied by heraldic display, letters of lineage, and a clear declaration of purpose. Failing to do so is a grave breach of etiquette and may be interpreted as both disrespectful and threatening.

Until officially acknowledged, foreign nobles are treated as commoners—albeit well-spoken and well-attired ones. They may not wear their regalia openly, claim noble titles, sit among the peerage, or speak on matters of governance. In some realms, such as the Plateau of Crowns, falsely claiming noble status without recognition can lead to fines, imprisonment, or exile.

Recognition is not assured. Kingdoms like the tradition-bound Na’Azul are highly selective and may deny noble status unless supported by formal alliances or acts of valor. Others, such as the coastal domains of the Elerian cities, may offer provisional status in exchange for service, tribute, or political advantage.

Those who navigate this delicate process with tact and honor may find themselves welcomed into the courtly sphere, invited to councils and feasts, or even granted new lands and honors. But all foreign nobles must remember: in Tel'Vania, noble status is not presumed—it must be acknowledged.