The Grand Duchy of Welburn is a medium nation founded by the Grand Duke Lewis situated on the North riding of the Isle of Mann. Its capital city Temperance is nestled in the foothills of The Mountain. A jewel, a treasure without compare. This small city's affluence is without parallel save only for Haven of the Free Celtic Peoples, for thus is Haven. The towering city walls of blazing white marble, studded with jade glitters in the dusky light of the setting sun. The shadow of The Mountain protects Temperance, nestled as it is, from the many manifold harsher weathers which affect much of the Isle and leaves it as a serene, still utopia. The salty night winds of the sea flows over the many towers, turrets and edifices as the city retires for the evening and the gates are sealed by the guard. And in the morning as first light breaks over The Mountain's peak and the mighty horn is sounded from the Ducial Tower the fresh, biting chill from atop the summit rushes down to reach Temperance. Dazzaling and spectacular, the beauties of Temperance amaze all. Against the morning sun may be seen the silhouettes of Haven's fishing fleet returning from its work. As the first hour of morn is told, workers head out to the fields surrounding our great city and till an harvest the fields of beet sugar which constitute the nation's main economy.
Of the other inhabitants of the isle there are but one set of import, the Free Celtic Peoples, whose Great Leader Grand Duke Stephen stepped forth upon this isled long ago and proclaimed it home. The two peoples have developed a closeknit, intertwinning relationship, with many of the two nations industries and peoples working together in each others' interests.The two city states are steadfast allies and sworn to help eachother in all causes. No other settlements have such size or influence to command obedience and such unswerving faith of the populace as do the Twin Gems of Temperance and Haven. Yet there may be seen, on the plains of Rushen an almost spectre like scene of a ruined city. One would at this juncture be politeley greeted at the south of the mount by a joint patrol of Welburnian and Free Celtic Peoples forces and asked to step back.
The slow, languid, sunny afternoons of the high season inject a sleep like hapiness and contentment with all who like on this sacred isle, and many go about their business, attending to the glod dappled fields and orchards, or commanding commerce and conducting trade in the heart Temperance. Walking down the cobbled streets on may enjoy numerous fountains with which to refresh onself before continuing on, through the bustling marketplace, the sleepy suburbs or the silent quarter, where one may sit undisturbed and contemplate on such things as life, in peace.
For such is Temperance, such are the Welburnians and such is the sacred Isle.