Life in Aurendale is a thing of prosperity born from hard work, tradition, and vigilance. It is shaped by the bounty of the land and the dangers that lurk there, by the ebb and flow of history, and by the tales passed down through the generations. It is a life rooted in the land just as deeply as the forests of the Dale, as grim and determined as the Tombsguard, as fierce and proud as the greatest of Altorii mercenary Companies, and as joyful as the brightest harvest festival. It is a life woven together through honest work and steady hands, to build something for yourself and future generations, to make your community more prosperous and guard against the threats that would take away all that you’ve built.
In the Dalean mind, hard work, respect, and patience lead to good fortune, while laziness, rudeness, and foolishness earn their own just desserts. Daleans strongly believe that you only get good things out of life if you’re willing to put the work in, and that failing in your duties to yourself, your family, or your community will lead to misfortune (or, more likely, quiet shunning by or active hostility from the people around you). There’s an abiding mistrust in Dalean society of those who don’t clearly work for a living — dilettante nobles, children of the rich, Company figureheads, and similar folk tend to get only as much respect as their money will buy from Daleans, and not a jot more unless they can prove themselves worthy of it. Respect and forgiveness of faults must be earned, in the Dalean mindset, and the best way to do so is to show you’re willing to put in the hours and effort alongside everyone else in the community.
Daleans are an independent lot, disliking when anyone tells them what they “should” do or how they should act, firmly believing that they have the right to make decisions for themselves and damn those who would claim otherwise. This scales up to their communities and settlements, as well — the Twelve Cities and the countless Steadings across the Dale are notoriously unwilling to let any other organization give them orders, which creates a constantly fractious political situation within the Federation. Anyone giving orders to a Dalean or group of Daleans had best have earned the right to do so, for if they haven’t then the folk they’re trying to give orders to are like as not to do the opposite just out of spite for the presumption of authority.
However, this taste for independence has a counterpoint, as Daleans also tend to be a communal folk, coming together to help one another and work on joint projects. Whether it be raising a barn, building a wall for a Steading, or just helping out a neighbor in need, if a call goes out asking for assistance most Daleans will try to find some way to lend a hand. This, too, extends into their politics, with Steadings and Cities both having a thriving democratic process, and the Daleans within those communities being willing to grant quite a bit of authority to the folk who get elected as Castellans, Councilors, or Chancellors, provided that they’ve put in the work to earn their position and don’t abuse their authority once they have it.
Though they are a heavily agrarian society, taming the land to extract a truly astounding amount of agricultural bounty every year, Daleans have a deep respect for nature and the balance that must be struck to ensure that the land remains bountiful for generations to come. The suggestions of druids regarding crop rotations and the sanctity of wild land around and between cultivated areas are followed like commands, and those who act in a way that would harm the future of the land are treated as dire threats to the community. This extends throughout all of Dalean society; every one of the Twelve Cities has extensive parks and gardens scattered throughout it, many of them carefully planned and tended to grow fresh produce or herbs throughout the year by the nearby residents, who are fiercely protective of their communal patch of greenery.
Vigilance and strength are the other core foundation of the Dalean psyche; no matter how prosperous they become, they all know that danger is always lurking somewhere nearby, waiting for a chance to snatch away or destroy what they’ve built. Warriors, soldiers, guards, and battlemages are all honored members of their communities, and every single Dalean is trained from childhood in how to spot signs of danger and aid their community in times of strife. Whether it be monstrous or mortal, any enemy that seeks to bring misfortune or ruin to Dalean folk will find strong walls and hardened fighters awaiting them, as the horns sound and bring the full might of the Steading or City down upon them. Even when they lose such a fight, the Daleans who survive are grimly determined to take back what they lost and rebuild even greater than before; there is no such thing as “lost ground” in the Dalean mind, only land that they haven’t reclaimed yet.
What do Daleans value in people?
Take care of what you have. Defend it, tend to it, and do what you can to make it grow. Daleans see the world through an agrarian lens, even those who grow up in the Great Cities, viewing businesses and Steadings and even the Cities themselves as living things that must be cared for with just as much attention and love as a Cerulean bonsai. There is a heavy emphasis placed throughout their upbringing on making sure that you pass down to the next generation an inheritance that is better than what your elders gave to you. In a similar vein, they value the traditions passed on by those who came before, the means and methods with which their ancestors have tended to the land and each other, seeing them as inherently more reliable than new ideas that might unintentionally harm the things they care about.
“You help me when I need it, and I’ll help you when you need it; we’re in this together.” One of the lessons taught to Dalean children from a very young age is that working together makes things safer and easier, and trying to go off on your own makes you vulnerable and your life harder. Rugged individualism and personal capability are admired greatly, but just as Daleans tell stories of rugged farmers who founded a thriving Steading all on their lonesome, they also tell tales of proud fools so wrapped up in their own strength that they don’t help their neighbors, and so nobody shows up to help them when disaster strikes. Cooperation and solidarity are also critical for the life of a community — a Steading that can come together for a barn-raising or to defend against an outbreak of undead is a community that will thrive, while if people can’t trust that their neighbors will come to help them in times of need the community is doomed to wither and fail.
Do not flinch from facing the monsters beyond the wall; always keep your spear and your bow pointed forwards. Daleans don’t have to deal with the constant specter of death that their neighbors in the Grimmwold do, but they still face their share of threats, and their culture strongly emphasizes being ready and willing to face those dangers when they appear. Courage in Aurendale isn’t the heroic and glorious ideal of Rivermark or Iskaldur; it’s the grim and quiet determination to stand and fight to defend what’s yours, even when you’re scared. It’s the courage to hold firm in the face of death, knowing that if you break your friends and family will die for sure, while if you and your allies can keep it together and stand your ground then you all might have a chance at survival.
What matters to Daleans is that something be functional. Whether it’s a tool or a tradition or an organizational structure, they keep what works and discard what doesn’t. They value and appreciate aesthetics in their lives as much as any other folk, but if they have a choice between a pretty thing that can’t do the job required of it or something that’s crude-looking but functional, they’ll pick function over form every time. Similarly, while they do their best to hold true to the traditions of their forebears, if one of those traditions just isn’t working anymore they will start seeking out an alternative means of doing something; they may be saddened to do so, and will try to find some other way of honoring the tradition, but they will never follow an old means of doing something in a way that causes harm to their present or future.
Civility maintains the bonds of a community, while rudeness frays them. Being curt, unfriendly, disrespectful, or rude to someone is seen as both a personal affront by them and as a reason for the community as a whole to view you less-favorably — the general reasoning goes that, if you’re willing to be rude to one person, how can the rest trust that you’ll follow all of the other parts of the various social contracts that keep the community functional?
Actually telling someone they’re being rude is meant as a wake-up call, meant to point out that they’ve stepped into dangerous territory. If they apologize, and either leave or start acting more polite, it’s generally considered a one-off mistake. If they don’t, or worse yet double-down on the disrespect, anything from community-wide ostracization to physical violence are considered acceptable, even appropriate, responses.
Of course, this only tends to apply to strangers and acquaintances. The saying goes that you can tell how well someone from Aurendale thinks of you by how rude they are to you while smiling. Strangers are incredibly polite to one another, while family and best friends tend to be raunchy and tease each other mercilessly.
The issue of respect becomes particularly critical when dealing with folk in positions of power. “A title is only as worthy of respect as the person holding it” is a common phrase in the Federation; the folk in Aurendale who hold such positions know that they do so only on the sufferance of the people they’re ruling over, and that if they don’t show that they deserve the respect of that title then they’ll be replaced soon enough.
Dalean first names are based off of Elizabethan-era British English naming conventions, with some modifications:
Last names tend to be based on trades (Smith, Carpenter, Brewer, etc.), though these names are inherited so it’s not uncommon to meet someone with the last name of Brewer who’s actually a blacksmith or a carpenter. Folk who have lived in one of the Great Cities for multiple generations tend to end up with more varied names, usually based on Swiss, Belgian, or Irish last names. Many also tack on the name of their home City or Steading after their last name, with a “von” prefix, to show pride in their home and distinguish them from anyone else with the same name. Orphans or those who have chosen to break with their family often take the last name of “Fields” to denote their lack of family ties.