The Storm Isles Chronicles

I Taming the Tempest

The Tempest is not an ally; neither is She an enemy. Remember it.
All men are carried by the Tempest, led by it. None shall evade its dominance, not anymore. Weaklings are those who hide, for they are certain to be shattered to pieces, should they crouch out of their shelter. These people are long gone now, forgotten in the mists of the past. Monarchs and their herd, all alike, all taken by the Torrent of Winds. There is only the Torrent, and everything else is drawn into its flux. Leaves float away, rocks crumble, cliffs erode. Compliance with the Torrent is the final destiny for all. The mightiest  of mounts are reduced to dust in time. There is no quarter, no protection. The Tempest rages since the beginning of time.
We tame Her. We tame the Tempest by submitting to Her, accepting Her superiority, kneeling before her echoing fury. We are mere men, made of stone and water. Stone crumbles, water is swept. Whoever abides by these tenants is worthy of taming the Tempest.
He who shall tame the Tempest must feel the Torrent and open his heart to it. His soul shall then be torn apart and scattered throughout the heavens. If his intention is clear and strong, if he adheres to it while enduring the bristling shrieks of a vortex blowing to a thousand winds, only then may the Tempest be tamed, its flow momentarily shaped by the will of the man.

II Raindrops of a Barren Sky

The Tempest cries. Every night, she cries. The weak hunch, the strong stand stiff and stark. We, the servants of the Tempest, are carried by the Torrent of Winds. We succumb to Her power, fly along its drift, let Her tear us limb from limb.
We heed. We listen to the hurricane, we attend the sound of waves crushing into the shore. And we bathe in raindrops of a barren sky.
For rain cannot bear life. Trees – rain makes them sprout; Beasts - rain quenches their thirst; Mankind – oh, mankind was conceived by rain. Indeed, the drops of rain fertilize soil as man’s seed fertilizes a woman’s womb. But fertilization is mere conceiving; the burden of life is carried to the earth, as much as it is into a pregnant woman’s abdomen.
Now you know why the Tempest cries. She cries for She is barren, not devoid of children yet cannot bear them on her own.

i think u meant encroach when u wrote crouch, to crouch is to bend down.

suggestions:
if you want to make a text feel truly old (which u don't necessarily do), you'll want to make it more concise and less coherent... more messy. Check out this excerpt from the bible (sefer shmot):

The king of Egypt spoke to the Hebrew midwives, of whom the name of the one was Shiphrah, and the name of the other Puah, and he said, "When you perform the duty of a midwife to the Hebrew women, and see them on the birth stool; if it is a son, then you shall kill him; but if it is a daughter, then she shall live."

notice the super uncomfortable use of the names in the first line. It reeks of old textualism. Plus, the wording of the Pharaoh's decree is kind of... stupid. This sort of thickheadedness makes old texts seem authentic.
Phrases like this are beautiful: "if he adheres to it while enduring the bristling shrieks of a vortex blowing to a thousand winds", but they don't feel like ancient religious writings.

I really liked the second passage. It was simpler and with a nice idea. I think you should drop the "oh" (again, as i assume u r aiming at the feeling of ancient text).

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Thought it might be nice to add some of my part as a player in the Storm Islands campaign. Like the beginning of Arden's background:

"The Tempest" I remember saying quietly.
"Yes child?" answered the old Priest. His voice was robust, holding that particular timbre that can only come from the depths of a masculine throat. The waves smashed into the shoreline as he spoke, every sound and word were carried upon the winds strongly, yet ever so facile. His utterance instilled in me such awe that I became compelled to speak mutely, confident that even under the whipping gusts of the turmoil, the lashing strands of fretful rain, the hammering might of the downpour that was upon us, the Priest would hear. The Priest would listen.
"I fail to see its purpose. I do not… I…" I feared. To query about that which bothered me so was troubling to say the least. I wandered anxiously whether there was blasphemy to my questions, fervently considering each and every word, dreading like an impetuously concerned toddler.
Nearly mumbling, I caught the Priest's sapphire eyes peering at me from the height of his stature. Their depth pulled on the edge of my mind like a hurling whirlwind, as I felt my hesitance sinking under his mulish glare.
For a moment there was nothing but silence. I swallowed deeply in my throat, my sight bathed warily in the shower of the Priest's cobalt leer. I sank like a rock. It was inevitable.
"Why does it blow?" I asked finally.
The priest laid his gaze upon my young and curious face and grinned in a listless, torpid smile.
" 'Why' you ask?" he roared asudden. I was taken aback by the aptitude of his holler, nearly mistaking it for a rumbling thunder.
"There are many a reason lad; frankly, it depends almost solely on whom you'd ask" he said while puffing a civil cough, "Most of the Priests would say that it blows because It can".
"And you…?" I whispered.
"Why does it blow?" he laughed heartily. "To no avail son, to no avail."

Appropriate background music:

Spoiler:

Wow, seriously awesome. It's your text that I liked most to date, by far. Really.
About your comments - I understand what you're saying. Maybe it would be nice to incorporate your suggestions to the text.

Anyway, I think it would be useful for me to know which sentences you liked in the text, to give me a base of reference of what phrasings I should preserve.

Since you guys stink at asking questions I'll lead by example...

Can you tell us about the fourth continent?
Can you tell us about the rebel organizations in Theskeasx? Or the one the bat lady worked for?

I will now discuss the fourth continent.
This continent is not worked out completely. It is populated by skinny and fragile humans, grey-skinned. In the land, mighty winds are constantly blowing. They pause every few hours, but most of the time, they blow so hard it is actually difficult to move against them. As a result, the vegetation is sparse, and the folk living there make do with underground farming. They live within natural caves inside mountains or under the ground. They managed to harvest the power of the winds to their advantage. In canyons, naturally, the winds blow so hard that it is fatal to enter. The folk uses gliders to fly through canyons, thus enabling efficient communication between cities. They also use the wind to harvest natural energy to produce a primitive sort of electricity and batteries.
It means their technology is far more developed than that of the Storm Isles. They have, for instance, railways, gyrocopters, automatic rifles.
Their statues are built of glass. During the short periods when the wind stops, brave individuals set out to place glass statues in key points inside canyons. The magical influence of statues over weather enables the statues to shape the flow of the winds, and the folk uses it to improve the safety of their gliders.
Since they have little to none wood in their land, they have no concept of seafaring to speak of. When their continent was accidentally discovered by two Storm Isles merchants, they showed indifference. Now, the Heart of Thorns is making attempts to enter a trading pact with these strange folk, exchanging some of their marvelous technology for ships. However, they seem to be uninterested in trade outside their own culture.

Gnomish people then? How's the continent itself besides being windy? Mostly like the grand canyon?
And to think Tziben's character thought it to be the promised land.

Spoiler:

No, not at all. They are as tall as other humans, they don't have much body hair, their skin is grey, and their limbs and fingers are thin and nimble. They wear loose robes in shady colors (no dye).
Their culture is indeed somewhat gnomish in the sense that they are technologically developed, not particularly violent and uninterested in other cultures. However, they are more religious, adoring the Tempest in their own way, and the statues play a significant role in their lives. Moreover, unlike gnomes, they do not live underground out of choice. They have legends of living out on the surface.

More like this: (The last one is really good because of the wind)

Spoiler:

Oh! Arden would have loved them.

Probably. There's a whole storyline in that continent having to do with the legacy of humankind and the origin of the statues. I will tell more about it in the future, but only after we play some more of my plots.