There has been quite a lot of degreening in the northern plains, which have gone arid quite quickly.

OOC: All Moti lands are familial property and so cannot legally be alienated.

IC:

From: Chief-of-Chiefs Third-Gaci
To: High Prince Atraxes

My apologies, but I can not give you lands which are not mine to give, for all those lands belong either to my ancestors or to the ancestors of the other chiefs in our Great Family. Please, accept my gifts instead, including more crimson elephants and slaves skilled in caring after them.

While I accept your gifts, the Seven are not as patient as I. My life draws to an end, so beware. I doubt that my successor will be placated by gifts, however great.

OoC: Heh, degreening is a much quicker process than greening, hence why northern forests are such diversity wastelands. As a point of interest, which way is the planet turning?

Same way as Earth; sunrise is in the east, blah blah blah.

The climate change is a lot slower than you guys seem to be making out. It's been at least 1500 years since the first climate map, probably much longer. :lol:

not one of the motives for the increased 'barbaric' movements?

You'd hardly have access to that knowledge, now would you?

true, but i just took it to be one of the contributing factors, hence the invasions so I sorta saw this kinda stuff happening :p

Pain and Anger


Destruction. That is what the Duroc, Uggor, and Liealb had just witnessed. The Satar had passed through their lands, sacking and burning the cities that had stood since the dawn of civilization. Now, they were burnt our husks and mountains of rubble. The Uggor were devastated, never having felt the sting of defeat this much. The Duroc people were in sadness, for their homes were wrecked as if these were the old wars again, for they felt they had once again come into the middle of the fighting. The Liealb were unsure of what was happening, being nearly untouched, yet a threatening cloud hung over their heads. With the strongholds of the Duroc in ruins, the cities of the Uggor filled with terror, and Liealb cities in quiet isolation from the rest of the country. The Twe were now largely conquered, although many still fled to the Kratoan part of their lands. Really, every race had been affected greatly by the Satar invasion.

However, the people of the south did not fall easily, and were sturdy. For ages they have dug their roots deep into the ground and grown strong in their homelands. For now, while still afraid, the Uggor continued to assemble their massive work force, the rubbles of destruction being carried away and shaped into useful material for the building of new things. The Duroc also focused on regaining their lost strength, allowing the Uggor to rebuild their homes as they strained to maintain trade. Their skill with sails and on horseback proved to be invaluable, allowing them to still keep tabs on the Liealb part of the country. Although the Ishanbi seemed rather restless, Kesui II had been given temporary control over the entire region, ensuring that any rebellions would get put down ruthlessly and hard.

And so Krato began to rebuild. Its treasury was still full, despite the sackings of the Satar. As a matter of fact, it was still wealthy and powerful in its crippled state. But the High Prince of the Satar would not cripple a wounded animal. That was something the people of Krato could respect, for they expected the world to nearly come to an end when they heard of the great force of Satar sweeping through the country. But the High Prince has had mercy on Krato, something no one in the country saw.

But the Algoli Exatai is something else.

The Kratoans had an extreme hatred for what they saw as spoiled barbarians who had sucker punched them. This hatred burned especially in the hearts of the Uggor, for they had the most contact with the Gorai, especially on the battlefield. While the High Prince had wise words that sounded like logic and reason to the Kratoans, the words of the Goria were short and blunt, demanding tribute and land. This created much rage within Kratoan society, viewing the Gorai as nothing but wayward Twe that happened to get lucky. In a way, this hatred fueled one of the greatest cultural achievements of Krato. The Stage of Gisuzi it was known as. Fiercely anti-Algoli and even having harsh words for other countries and races, Gisuzi thought that expressing one’s self was the key to art. And to him, shouting, raving, and ranting was the finest art form one could attain. He would spend hours on his stage, his face red with anger as he shouted the sins of the Gorai. He encouraged others to join him, and let their hate spill out. Finally, when Gisuzi died, the theater he preformed his rants at was named the Stage of Gisuzi, and became the center for a new Uggor art form called Istrillio, or “hate shouting”. It flourished in these tough times, where many men and women wanted to express their anger. Istillio buildings were set up all over the country, serving as places where people could get rid of their stress and have a good shout. Sometimes, particularly good rants were recorded on walls, being examples of the finest Istillio one could make. High Chief Hencon, Chief Heco’s grandchild was extremely fond of Istillio. He would listen for hours at a time in the theaters of rage, absorbing each shouted word. He invested great amounts of money constructing Gisuzian theaters all over the city of Krato.

And now in the capital they say that no one can sleep, for the rantings of the enraged and insane fill the night air.

OOc: I'm planning on turning Krato into a fully fledged rage machine. :p

From: Second Redeemer Atraxes, High Prince of the Satar Exatai
To: The Accan Empire

We greet you with two minds. Your conquest of the Aya'se was quick and mighty; we admire this. However, the Seshweay cities had been placed under my protection, and though I was in the far south of the world when this occurred, their conquest does not please me.

These cities owed me loyalty and tribute. Now that you have taken them, do YOU owe the Satar loyalty and tribute? Consider your response wisely.

From: Grand Negotiator Linnos, Autocracces Govados II's Instrument of Diplomacy
To: His Princelyness, Atraxes of the Satar

A one time tribute of a package of various luxuries is of course in order, but for permanent tribute to the majesty of the Satar's strength, the Autocracces has decreed a studying of the Satar faith. We will require several scholars of your faith of course to ensure a true conversion but once completed, it will stand as a timeless tribute to the Satar.

From: Xephaion, High Oracle of Magha, Advisor to the Redeemer
To: Grand Negotiator Linnos of Acca

Second Redeemer Atraxes has fallen silent, in the seventy eighth year of his life, the one hundred and third year of the Mask Restored. His bones will be buried deep beneath the Sapphire City, but his horses and bridles shall burn beneath the night sky in an offering to Taleldil. His successor will be chosen from among the Seven soon, but I speak for the Satar until that time.

Your tribute will placate us, but this offer of conversion to Ardavan intrigues us greatly.

Our holy scriptures are the Kaphai-Avai, the great history of the man Taleldil, chosen conqueror, wise emperor, loving father, and of his spiritual journey into the afterlife to become the God of Wind and Thunder.

We can enlighten you as to the perpetual reincarnation of Taleldil's aspect in chosen warriors, and will teach you our sacred litanies and doctrines. I will send oracles and acolytes from among the Satar to teach you both the words of our faith, and the martial forms in which we channel the might of the great Victor of Battles, Taleldil-ha-Satarai. It is a faith well suited to men of war, and your Autocracces should find it pleasing.

small eats tiny :P

Amasina Lightbringer

And when the Darkness had come upon the world, the people were afraid. Everywhere was chaos and loss. But the people knew not where to turn, and so they crept deeper into Darkness, seeking ever for safety in the realms which are hidden. All that had been, the Light and Perfection, fled their memories, and the turn of generations wore at the very heart of humanity. I say to you now, look not for salvation in the Darkness, and turn not from the Faith. For those who have so turned, lost is the path back, and the only sentence is purgation.
—Excerpt, unknown ancient sermon, from the inscriptions at the Old Temple

Ilunatar paced. The emissaries from Hasia had yet to return, though word from their Tarasene brethren had arrived more than a week past. Hasia was not by itself so important for what was to come, but such a lack of diligence disturbed him. The Purge should have put an end to such nonsense as delayed messages. Neither the Faith nor the Faithful could afford them any longer. Still more worrying was a thought which Ilunatar only barely let cross his mind, that the Hasenes had lost their taste for zeal. Something might have to be done about the Hasene church if such were the case, perhaps a purging of its own.

Ah, the Purge. Ilunatar remembered it fondly. There was disgrace in the past of the High Wards, and failure, and not all of it to blame on external forces. The Purge had seen to that. Ilunatar had been only a young man, but he remembered the great leader well, Amasina Lightbringer. She was the woman who had shown all of Gallat that the true terror of the Darkness could creep into the highest counsel, and from her had begun the Purge.

It began with the expedition against Aya’se. What had been the purpose? The Faith was not advanced by killing a few men in a far-distant city, no matter how great a threat to Gallat their ancestors had been. No, those who were to blame were the corrupt, those who were paid to build great warships for a war which required none, and the Wards who had endorsed it. Some spoke out even before the fleet was launched, but who would listen to young wards and acolytes against the High Ward.

Amasina had been different. Ilunatar had seen her speak twice before the murder, before the true Darkness was revealed and cast forward into the view of all. She had mighty power in her voice, a great weapon for the Faith it had been, and greater still it could have been had she lived. The people listened in a way they had not listened to others who objected. They were swayed by her voice alone, and when the ships returned fewer than they set out, and beloved of the Faith had been lost to chaos, there was seething anger in Gallasa. At its head was Amasina Lightbringer, though she had yet to be given the appellation.

They said the Darkness had crept into Gallat, that how else could our fleet have been defeated, not by men of false belief, but by nature itself? And the High Ward could not contain them, and a fateful decision was made. Ilunatar saw the result, her blood on the stone platform from which she spoke. And then there was no stopping the Purge. They swept aside what resistance there was, and the High Ward in his falsehood was torn down. Ilunatar had been swept up, but a young acolyte soon a great ward.

And nw High Ward himself. A greater painter had depicted the death of Amasina Lightbringer in the traditional style, black and white alone. Her figure, pure as the dawn, was revealed only by the darkness cast by the figures behind her, and the black blood on her cloak. It was the only decoration in the austere chambers of High Ward Ilunatar. Her memory would shine strong long into the future, he knew. And, for the present, he must take the greatest lesson to heart. Never underestimate the Darkness. Fight the Darkness wherever it may be found. Seek always to stamp out the Darkness, and do so urgently. But in doing so forget not yourself.

A knock came on the door. Word had arrived from the Hasenes. Ilunatar smiled.

NK, how long will these updates be? I thought you said they were going to start being only 25 years, but the recent one was 50.

also, what is the situation with the Twe? How many of them are in Krato compared to Algoli Exatai? And who do they seem to like better, Krato or Algoli?

The updates will probably be 50 years. The 25 year one was an exception.

The Twe are still fighting for you; they bore the brunt of the losses in the recent war, but because of that are somewhat diminished. Probably only a couple thousand are left.

"I will have my chronicle written."

The voice of the aged High Prince echoed across the empty hall. It was night, and even the mightiest dome lies open to the stars before it is finished. Still, Xephaion was there. The man's presence, once mildly disturbing, was now a comfort to the Silver Prince. The High Oracle would not sleep until his sire slept.

"As you wish, sire." Xephaion, though old, showed his age less than many Satar might. The true blooded, first generation Satar were apt to die before the age of sixty, but the palace and comforts that royalty and empire bring had lengthened their time on earth. Even so, Atraxes reflected, Xephaion did not age like most men.

The High Oracle's robes swished quietly across the floor of rare and beautiful stones. A night bird cried in the rafters above as Xephaion passed under the ever-narrowing circle of stars to bow before his lord.

"Shall I call for a scribe?"

"I would have none but a friend write these words."

Xephaion did not smile, but his normally grim expression softened. "Very well. Where shall we begin?"

Atraxes opened his arms, revealing the glint of iron beneath his blue and gold robes. "Tremble with fear, dear speaker," he intoned in the traditional manner that began all Satar stories, "For you are written into this tale. It is but a strand of the all-tale which binds us all to our final heaven."

"I witness your speech," Xephaion replied.

"In the time before time there was void, until the void was rent asunder!"

Xephaion almost smiled. "Do not quote my own Kaphai at me, my liege."

The High Prince sighed. "What sense of humor you might have had died long ago, Xephi. But as you wish." He cleared his throat.

A servant, for there were always servants, had brought a stylus and tablet at Xephaion's silent command.

"I did not kill my father."

Xephaion looked up. "My liege?"

"Write it down. I did not kill my father Arastephas, Redeemer of Men, High Prince and Aspect of Taleldil."

---

News of the challenge had crossed the horde with the speed of silence. For two legends as Arastephas the Gold and Atraxes the Silver, there could be no arena, and no witnesses. The honor of father and son was spotless, won in a score of battles and countless bloody struggles. Their horses left for the Rath Tephas alone.

It was simple. Arastephas and Atraxes ate together, slept in the same tent. Atraxes remembered that his father had once snored, and the High Prince did as well. Yes, his father's body remained...but the spirit was changed. Taleldil or nay, the spirit was changed. They crossed the sands together in silence, hearing only occasional sounds: The joyous chants of a distant Clotir tribe celebrating a kill, or the harsh call of the desert carrion eaters.

The desert gave way to the Rath Tephas, as it must. Even if the Rath Satar grew less habitable by the day, holy Tephas would always have an endless swell of green. Some few picked Satar dwelt on this sacred ground, where Taleldil himself once tamed the first horse, and sired the Seven. They found a flat patch of ground, a clearing between two hills of waving grasses. Upon one of the hills stood a gnarled tree. It had been struck by Taleldil's Blessing more than once when the rain rolled over the hills.

There, they drew their circle. And they fought to the death.

---

Atraxes paused for breath. Xephaion held the pen expectantly for a moment, and then lowered it. The High Prince spoke.

"I cannot tell you of our fighting. He...fought like a beast, and like a god. I fought like a man, with cunning and fear, with strategy and caution. He swept aside my attacks and punished my defenses. It was as if I was a child training from a master. I was in the prime of my youth, and Arastephas...I knew not his age, but he was no longer a young man. But still he destroyed me. Taleldil was within him."

---

The final blow came. Almost a blow of contempt, it was delivered not with speartip but with spearbutt. Atraxes sprawled backwards, shield and spear rolling in random directions, outside of the ritual hexagon. Atraxes knelt, prepared to pay the ultimate price for disloyalty and pride without conquest.

Arastephas did not strike. And, for the first time in moons, he spoke.

"Do not despair when your will fails to change the world. It is not a failure of your will, but a failure of the world."

Removing the mask from his face, Ephkar looked at his child.

"My bones will bleach under the sun, and the wolves will have my carcass. Such is the honor afforded to a man of the steppe."

Atraxes stared at the legendary golden mask laying facedown in the packed dirt. "The victory...is yours, High Prince."

"I am the victor. Your life is mine. And I command you to live it. I proclaim you Redeemer in my stead. My task is done; I have redeemed the Satar in glory. Redeem now their spirit."

Atraxes untied his own silver mask, bloodied and battered, and placed it on the ground. Father and son stared at each other, unmasked, for the first and final time. "Where will you go?"

The Redeemer shrugged. "I went from a herder of sheep to become the Chosen of Taleldil. But the Chosen of Taleldil is still a herder of sheep. There is no law saying a man cannot be both."

Atraxes felt tears...this man killed children, he tried to remind himself...but tears, nonethless. "Goodbye, father," he managed to say.

Ephkar the Shepherd made a formal bow very inappropriate to his status as an unmasked, honorless Satar. "Until the heavens, paternal descendant."

---

Atraxes stood, and walked from the palace. He walked into the garden, and stared into the darkest parts of the water, where the fish were swimming, swimming, swimming.

Xephaion followed.

Revelations

Faerafaen Maeriouhau, white-bearded with age and tanned from years in the open southlands, sat in an empty room, gazing out a window towards the sun, descending over the golden River Had. In his hand was a dagger, which he softly twirled against his forefinger, grey eyes unfocused and lost in thought.

His mind freed, to a degree, from military matters, the elderly Faerouhaiaouan general instead turned to politics. Rafim Aramsayafa, the Lion of Farou and victorious defender of Subal, was ten Haia (years) dead, reaped by the unshakeable hand of time. Sayfo Maeriouhau, his brother and representative in the Faeoria, had also recently left his life. Faerafaen knew that he was one of the last of his generation- those who had lived before the war. He had not yet been an adult when the armies of the Hu’ut first crossed the Nerussian border, but his broad education, seemingly congenital tactical awareness, and birth into the influential Faeoria (Family Group) Maeriouhau ensured his meteoric rise to military command. His life had been a constant cycle of warfare in the realm of the Hu’ut, and political manoeuvering with his brother in Dremai, in northern Faron.

Now, however, the war that had defined his life was over- only police work remained, as the ever enthusiastic Shafay Fetosa set out on the task of clearing away vestiges of the old order, establishing a future for the new class of Hu’uti freemen. Just as these men, women and children were freed from slavery of the body, Faerafaen was now freed from a militarist slavery in the mind- and now it was free to turn to the future, in a reverie of contemplation where he, in his old age, now spent most of his time.

His cousin Rayelaei Maeriouhau was now the matriarch of the Faeoria and its representative in the council- she was a powerful figure indeed. Physically, she was large and imposing even to men, mentally she was alert and calculating. She had adeptly furthered her Faeoria’s dominance of the council- the kings by this point answered solely to the Maeriouhau.

Faerafaen was not a typical Faron- even when one considers that he is a Faerouhaiaouan, one of the traditionalist northerners. His quirks could have been with him from birth, or maybe they were emotional and mental scars, traumas of war- but he did not hold the total trust in his family that is so typical of his people. The only figures he had ever trusted had by now all passed into the spirit realm- only Haiao, the sun, remained true. Faerafaen could never escape the suspicion that Rayelai’s actions were not all for the good of Maeriouhau, and Faron. Perhaps it was that shifting look in her eyes, that she spent so much of her time in the capital, or simply the dehumanization that comes with a lifetime’s experience of military atrocities. Faerafaen didn’t consider the reasons. He simply couldn’t feel trust, there was nothing upon which he could build it.

Unsettled, the old general’s thoughts shifted to other matters. Once again, he pondered his path through life. How he and so many others had lost their innocence, or their lives to the conclusion of the age-old struggle with the Hu’ut- the war that was the inverse of the dawn of the Faronun.

The younger ones knew of nothing before the time of war- some of these ‘youth’ had even raised children of their own by this point. During this period, Faron had experienced unprecedented political unity behind the de facto leadership of the Maeriouhau, and unprecedented power. This period had seen none of the irreverence towards authority that had once so characterized Faronun culture. That, in retrospect, may have been necessary for the defeat the Hu’ut, but had it been worth it? Was this what greatness was for a nation? To dominate its rivals, to dominate its own to the point of autocracy? Was the path of Faron to become a despotic state like so many other nations in the world?

Visions of this future flashed through the general’s mind- a Maeriouhau becoming king, but not in the style of the kings of old, in the style of the Emperors of the Hu’ut. Suddenly, Faerafaen was possessed by a horrific fear that throughout his life, as hard as he had fought against the enslavers, he had only served to bring enslavement to his own people. Immediately, this fear became a conviction- his work with his brother to ensure that the coalition of Faeoria supporting the war did not fall apart, his alliance-building in Krato and Neruss, his once-pleased acceptance of Maeriouhau domination of the council, and his tolerance of Rayelaei’s leadership- all of this had undone all of his life’s work.

The old general shook violently in his chair, falling off the side. His mouth tried to make out words, but he could only make a weak cry. Darkness crept in around his eyes, and a suffocating calm restrained his limbs, until the last bit of light faded away.

To the Faron
From the Church of Iralliam

We wish to make a formal askance of you, to let us speak of the path that a man might walk in his lifetime, to let us speak to those you have saved and those you have built upon.

OOC: just thought it would be fun to ask, what with the story being about the "path"...:p

Prince of the Spear Xetares is acclaimed Third Redeemer, High Prince of the Satar Exatai. His first wish is that all the Second Redeemer's decrees be made manifest, and that a holy tomb to the Silver Fist be built in the Sapphire City.

From: Third Redeemer Xetares, High Prince of the Satar Exatai
To: The Moti

Your kind words and kind gifts may have pleased the wise Atraxes, but I will not be deterred as my noble antecedent was. I will have these lands, called 'Bisria' in my maps.

I have been told that these lands are not for the Animal Prince of the Moti to give. This is fair, as I would not take any of the lands of the Seven for my own. But the families and tribes and clans that live there, I will not touch: Only that they swear allegiance to my might and the might of the Satar is required.

These are the lands we demand:

http://img135.imageshack.us/img135/3628/satardemandmapcc3.jpg

I have, in my great magnanimity, allowed the Moti to keep the lands of the mountains and the lands near them. For you are mountain people as we are not.

Do not refuse me, dear Moti friends. I am terrible to behold when enraged.

To the Faron
From the Church of Iralliam

We wish to make a formal askance of you, to let us speak of the path that a man might walk in his lifetime, to let us speak to those you have saved and those you have built upon.Please pardon us, good sir, for we may be misunderstanding your language, but we believe that you wish to speak to some of us of your faith in Opporia. If you wish for a dialogue, we could speak too of Haiaou.

Please pardon us, good sir, for we may be misunderstanding your language, but we believe that you wish to speak to some of us of your faith in Opporia. If you wish for a dialogue, we could speak too of Haiaou.

If that is the requirement the authorities wish to persue, a theological debate can be put forth, if you wish to send missionaries to the lands of Krato, I am not the one to speak to...

Nope!

If that is the requirement the authorities wish to persue, a theological debate can be put forth, if you wish to send missionaries to the lands of Krato, I am not the one to speak to...
Missionaries? Why would we need missionaries?

OOC: It is noted that the Cult of Haiaou is not an organized or prosetylizing faith, and just a general set of beliefs held by the Faronun.

OOC: ahh ok, well yes we can agree to debates, but the point is, would the secular authority allow us to prosetylize?

OOC: It probably wouldn't be happy with outside forces trying to increase their importance with Faron, especially when they're missionaries from a slaveholding nation. We're currently on friendly terms with Krato thanks to our combined effort against the former Hu'ut Empire, although if missionaries are poorly received that could change for the worse. On another note, there's the fact that Faron has a longstanding and heavily ingrained set of beliefs already, whose compatibility with Iralliam is questionable.

"Man has been blind for thousands of years, I will make the blind see, the deaf listen and the path be walked,"
-Autarch Exartes of the Temple Guard

Chaos unimaginable, suffering previously unthought, Istrias Niamdes amoung us, Exartes had seen it, and led his men in efforts to help the people, the path walkers, but the deamons had come and gone. Killing, plundering, turning the earth red with the blood of man.

Change was always something that took time, revelations of personal truths contrary to those of the truths of others took longer still.

Yet purpose arrives on the back of these personal truths and purpose is a terrible thing to behold...


***

"I would gladly give up my humanity, my path, to save but a score more people,"
-Patriarch Xephathor of Opios

Patriarch Xephathor had made a move. The Patriarch of Triad occupied with his attempts to convert the people accross the Kotthorns, the Patriarch of Krato, weakened, devestated by his inability to help relieve the destruction visited upon his people, and the new Patriarch that of Gaci, of the Moti and Bisrian peoples a faithfull pilgram from Bisria and firmly loyal to his cause, further diluting the power of the others.

He would de jure[1] be the Prime of the Patriarchs, the ability to easily resolve doctrinal disputes, formal recognition gained. Such autocracy was easily gained in times of crisis, wether real or merely perceived, and it is often brought on by the willing people, seeking a strong confident leader to rally around.

***

"Beware you who trample in the garden of Heaven, for you are trampling on the love of a vengefull god, and he awaits you round the last corner,"
-Patriarch Xephathor of Opios

"Correspondence from the Patriarch Iasthai in Gaci has brough word of great works of stone, carved as water, and further storys of the Majesty of the Sapphire City, and I tell you that any man can build a Palace, and point to what he has done, but the true acheivement is one that lasts centuries. Look at the Prophets acheivements, the savings of many peoples souls, enlightening us to the path. Thus I say; 'Stone falls and crumbles, the spirit endures'

Let us have courage, for we walk the Enlightened path, and need not fear that which will not endure,"

The sermon ended, the rites conducted, the people gone, Xephathor left for his chancery, to speak to his servants and arrange the first doctirnal council, the most respected minds [2] would be invited, for whilst Iralliam had expanded in the past dew decades, it had also absorbed an overabundence of rites and feasts related to theory sycration [3] and this was to be deceided upon at the Council of Opios

[1] been de facto for a while, recent events pushed it into defacto
[2] as well as infulential
[3] see previous story about conversion efforts and the theory behind it

OOC: It probably wouldn't be happy with outside forces trying to increase their importance with Faron, especially when they're missionaries from a slaveholding nation. We're currently on friendly terms with Krato thanks to our combined effort against the former Hu'ut Empire, although if missionaries are poorly received that could change for the worse. On another note, there's the fact that Faron has a longstanding and heavily ingrained set of beliefs already, whose compatibility with Iralliam is questionable.

I made a statement on slavery a while back actually, but I think a religion that places emphasis on a path and how you walk it can be interpeted favouribly, don't you? (viz: freedom to walk it they way the person wants to)

Well, I certainly approve of the 'walk your own path thing'- the Faronun have never held a belief in fate.

From: The High Council of Krato
To: High Prince of Satar Exatai, Xetares

The previous Redeemer showed use mercy when we were on our knees, bloody and defeated. Will you show us mercy too, Third Redeemer? We mourn the loss of the Second Redeemer, and we wish to confrim that his successor wishes to keep the promises he made.

I would very much appreciate it if NK were to give a tentative deadline (at least in the terms of "no earlier than"). Sorry if I missed it.

From: Chief-of-Chiefs Third-Gaci
To: High Prince Xetares

I am descended from the first-born son of Eso Kotuu, whereas your lineage was unheard of even a mere hundred years ago; for all the valour of your grandfather it simply will not do for me to submit to you, and yet I am the Chief of most of the families of which you speak. On the eastern lands, though, I might advise you to speak with the chiefs of the godlike families, whose children live there; yet to be honest they are proud and not at all likely to submit to someone as new as yourself. As for the children, know that they submit to none but their fathers; and if you somehow persuade them to go against their own laws, then what good would such children be to you?

Know also that we are not a people of the mountains, but a people of the plains, the forests and the foothills, and that the entire world is our and mine birthright; have we not allowed you to claim enough of it as it is? Receive from me many gifts, the most important among them this hint; your empire is large: is it not difficult enough to govern as it is? Your enemies, though they may disguise themselves as friends, are numerous; is it truly wise to threaten the children of the Father of Elephants at such a time?

An Official Currency

The idea of currency first arrived in Gallat from the south centuries ago. Merchant ships arriving in Sirasona and, later, in Aldina, would attempt to trade for Gallatene goods with great lumps of precious metal, a practice initially viewed with some skepticism and occasional hostility by the locals.

The salt merchants of Sirasona quickly overcame this reaction, however. Salt, a commodity sold in very large quantities, had always presented problems for the barter economy. A ship which arrived with grains or jewels or metals could hardly be expected to take back an equivalent value in salt. That would fill every corner of the vessel to bursting.

At first, the merchants had issued certificates which stated the rights to a certain amount of salt. These went lost easily, to the benefit of the salt merchants but the detriment of those with whom they traded, and fluctuating salt prices based on the political situation in the southern producing region of Neruss made the certificates of dubious value.

Under pressure from the foreign traders, some salt merchants began to accept foreign currency and to use it in their transactions. Others, perhaps seeing an opening for themselves in the currency market, began minting their own coins in imitation of the Tui of Trilui and others. The imitation products were often passed over with a scoff by merchants of Trilui, but others were more easily fooled.

Eventually, the imitation coins changed sufficiently to be distinct from the Tui. The major evolution in this transformation was the application of a specific value to each coin. Salt prices had always been a driving factor in the market at Sirasona, sometimes causing massive losses for foreign merchants and sometimes equal losses for domestic merchants.

As proposed by a coalition of local salt traders, the new informal currency was tied to the value of salt, and the value of salt to it. One anhua of salt, approximately the size of a fist, was worth one of the tiniest new coins, which subsequently themselves became known as anhua.

Following its standardization, the anhua spread rapidly across the northern Kern Sea. It had been in widespread usage in Gallasa for over a century at the time of the Purge, but locally minted coins often controlled by powerful religious figures competed with it. Following the Purge, the new High Ward Asuan adopted the anhua as the official national currency, shutting down the corrupt mints which produced other coinage.

Technically still under the purview of Sirasene merchants, the anhua is now also under the control of the central church and government in Gallasa. With its spread across the northern Kern Sea, it has facilitated trade both internally and externally. The use of currency is now standard throughout the region, although the anhua still competes with local currencies and with southern currencies such as the Tui, particularly in non-Gallatene markets.

From: Third Redeemer Xetares, High Prince of the Satar Exatai
To: The Council of Krato

You have acknowledged the might of the Satar. Atraxes spoke well, and I will not go against his will. Your people are safe from my armies.

From: Third Redeemer Xetares, High Prince of the Satar Exatai
To: Chief-of-Chiefs Third-Gaci

You fool of fools! One hundred years is but a star in the sky to the majestic lineage of the Seven Princes, descended from the seven sons of Great King Taleldil, Mighty God of Wind and Thunder!

I have tried patience. I have tried offering great gifts. But no longer.

Know this, Gaci. I understand the laws that bind you, but the Satar acknowledge one law above all. Exatas is the 'right of the conqueror'. Our empire is great because all our laws stand upon force. We do not disguise that in the end, there will be BLOOD if we are not appeased!

You have made your choice, Gaci. Your land will burn.

From: Third Redeemer Xetares, High Prince of the Satar Exatai
To: Prince Aphas-ta-shaim of the Sword, Prince Xetephas of the Shield, Prince Tashik of the Scroll, Prince Hashaskor of the Star, Prince Malanos-ke of the Arrow, Prince Nephakor of the Wheel, Prince Isal-averas-ha of the Spear

The Satar return to war.

I would very much appreciate it if NK were to give a tentative deadline (at least in the terms of "no earlier than"). Sorry if I missed it.

Saturday night, possibly early Sunday morning.

From: Third Redeemer Xetares, High Prince of the Satar Exatai
To: Prince Aphas-ta-shaim of the Sword, Prince Xetephas of the Shield, Prince Tashik of the Scroll, Prince Hashaskor of the Star, Prince Malanos-ke of the Arrow, Prince Nephakor of the Wheel, Prince Isal-averas-ha of the Spear

The Satar return to war.

Exatas!

From: Chief-of-Chiefs Third-Gaci
To: Xetares the Common-Born Foreigner

For too long have I and mine allowed you to reign the northern lands, which are my birthright; your claim to those lands is now revoked, for while your father and your grand-father possessed piety, you clearly do not and so must be punished for your theft.

---

Anyway...

It doesn't look as though I will be able to finish the epic, sadly; some of the reasons have already been given elsewhere. The Bisrian war seems to have been a relatively quick and easy victory, anyway, and though it is ofcourse possible to cobble together a good story from that - and many Moti story-tellers have done just that - I just don't see the need to do so, especially inasmuch as this story has already served its purpose.

Still, some kind of a conclusion is needed.

It is known that after Kirost slew Wel'teq and split his mind-soul in half, making the good parts go to the Good God and the evil parts go to the Evil God, the Dueling Gods were so distracted by this they stopped their battle and went to investigate, and then held council, and made their decision, which later became apparent; as for Kirost, head of the Horse Family bandits in the Outer Mountains, he now truly became the supreme leader of all the former Moti bandit groups that invaded Bisria, and not much later he came back to the Moti side of the Outer Mountains, where Gaci-city was then being built. His warriors manage to capture Chief-of-Chiefs Second-Gaci in the fifth year of his reign, and brought him before Kirost; Kirost and Second-Gaci talked and feasted, and came to an agreement, and so Kirost became the supreme war-leader of all the adapted families in the Outer Mountains and soon renewed his forays into Bisria with renewed force, now more for reconnaissance than for plunder, whereas Second-Gaci departed.

On the sixth year of the reign of Second-Gaci, the Chief-of-Chiefs explained his and Kirost's plan to the rest of the Elephant Family, and it was accepted with some misgivings. On the seventh year of the reign of Second-Gaci, the Chief-of-Chiefs announced to the Godlike Chiefs that he wished to conquer a vast and wealthy land beyond the mountains, and suggested that all those who yearned for peace and comfort be exempt from having to attend the Council-of-Chiefs in the next seven years, whereas all those who yearned for wealth and glory should attend it in Gaci-city, though it was far from their lands; and this was accepted not without some suspicion, but nevertheless with rejoicing, for the Godlike Chiefs all yearned for wealth and glory. On the eighth year of the reign of Second-Gaci, the Godlike Chiefs all came to Gaci, and there the Chief-of-Chiefs explained that they now sat at the middle of the world, and that the world was full of evil because it was out of balance - the lands on one side of the central mountains were under the reign of the direct lineage of Eso Kotuu, but the lands on the other side were under the reign of some foreigner. And he told them many other things as well, about Bisria and its cities, and about ancestors and valour, and also about the death of Eso Kotuu and the end of the Great Family, and the survival of the many Good Chiefs thanks to the sacrifice of one, whose name was until now forgotten, and of how the children of that forgotten chief now returned to lead the way into Bisria; and in this manner Second-Gaci fulfilled his promise to Kirost and introduced the Horse Family-Chief to his brothers, and Cow Family-Chief Fourth-Frono immediately realised that Kirost was once Kirti, yet nonetheless held his tongue, deciding to remain loyal until the end of the war, and so the chiefs reconciled and celebrated for many days, as had their finest warriors whom they had brought with them, and they all left full of zeal and bloodthirst, and of good will and acceptance of Second-Gaci's plan; the chiefs of the Twenty Families went westwards, whereas the chief of the Twenty-Second Family went east and gathered his forces, until then dispersed.

On the ninth year of the reign of Second-Gaci, the chiefs arrived with all the forces they saw fit to muster to Gaci, and when all the warriors were counted there were seven thousand men. This time it was not a Council-of-Chiefs, but a War-Council, and instead of ancient laws the chiefs looked at maps, and instead of prophets they listened to scouts. The chiefs gave each other blood-oaths to fight on together without rest or treason to the end of the war, and their warriors did likewise to each other. Worship-Chief Sixth-Yotun sacrificed seven sheep, War-Chief Fourth-Frono sacrificed three bulls and Chief-of-Chiefs Second-Gaci sacrificed a crimson elephant, and Horse Family-Chief Kirost, who arrived with a delay, sacrificed two Bisrian commanders he had just captured in the Battle of the White Mountains, having adapted their orphaned soldiers into his family; and this was clearly a good omen for the beginning of the Bisrian War.

By tradition, Fourth-Frono commanded the army and he was the one who gathered and inspected the warriors after the sacrifices, yet afterwards in a sign of piety he granted supreme command to Second-Gaci; nonetheless Second-Gaci was not well-learned in the ways of leading men to battle, to say nothing of leading them to war, and being wise enough to realise it, he led the army as per the advice of the three great Warrior-Chiefs and Moti-Heroes, that is to say Horse Family-Chief Kirost, Cow Family-Chief Fourth-Frono and Lion Family-Chief Trenessa. This main army consisted of three thousand and five hundred men of the four families of its commanders and all the families within those families; other families fought distinctly, as had many of the former bands in the Horse Family, not yet used to their new rank. Still, whenever the Chief-of-Chiefs and the Warrior-Chiefs called a war-council, all the other chiefs came or sent their representatives, and it never happened that they explicitly disobeyed orders, though some say it was simply because they were ordered to do what they did anyway and to continue their raiding and pillaging. Thus some warriors of that time fought in smaller bands, where the glory and valour was all the greater for their small number, whereas other warriors fought in the main army, where the glory and valour was all the greater for their great battles; and there is scarcely a family within any family in the Moti Great Family that had not its own heroes in that war, and if all the stories of feats of valour from that war were to be gathered together it would take seven thousand seven hundred and seventy seven scrolls.

The Bisrians resisted bravely and too had had many heroes and stories, and by the end of the war turned out to be no less brothers of the Moti and children of the Chief-of-Chiefs than the men of the Horse Family; only, their king was greedy and foolish, and listened to evil and unwise advisers, and so he fought in the east while the best of his men died in the west or, having been captured, were adapted by the families within the Moti Great Family and continued fighting, but in their name. Finally, the Bisrian king had gathered a large army and went to Het, and there he met the Three Warrior-Chiefs and the Chief-of-Chiefs, and their armies fought from dawn to dusk, and again on the next day, and the Chief-of-Chiefs, in a moment of despair, had charged deep into Bisrian lines with his personal retainers and broke half the enemy army, but was surrounded by the other half and was only saved when the Moti-heroes rushed after him and turned the Bisrians to flight; and after that the evil that had poisoned Bisria in this viceful king's reign had clearly magnified the evil in the minds of the Lion Family-Chief Trenessa, the brutal leader of the cruelest of families, for after the battle he spoke with Fourth-Frono and with Kirost, and told them that the Chief-of-Chiefs would have been captured and the Great Family would have been humiliatingly defeated if not for them, and that the Chief-of-Chiefs is a poor man and a bad warrior whereas they were the greatest warriors and chiefs on both sides of the Kotthorns, and that they should overthrow the Chief-of-Chiefs and redivide the lands and the peoples in the manner of foreigners into three Chiefdoms, so that Trenessa would be the West-Chief, Fourth-Frono would be the Middle-Chief and Kirost would be the East-Chief; yet Fourth-Frono immediately refused and left, so Trenessa realised that it would be better still if there were two Chiefdoms rather than three, and, having been well informed by his spies, reminded Kirost that the Cow Family has always been his enemy. And Kirost, shaken by the battle and his words, agreed to ponder this.

Yet on the other day, during the victory-feast after the Battle of Het, when Trenessa and his men, along with his allies within other families, had tried to kill and overthrow the Chief-of-Chiefs, Kirost raised the alarm and cut down Trenessa in a duel, and the warriors of the Lion Family who were there agreed that this was honourable and backed off, whereas the Chief-of-Chiefs pardoned all those involved. However, other men of the Lion Family who were present at the Moti Great Family Army camp were more bitter over the death of their chief, and besides were in negotiations with the Bisrian king; and so they declared Trenessa's younger brother Jonessa the new Lion Family-Chief, and went with him to attack Kirost when he left for his mountain strongholds to levy new reinforcements; and so they caught up to him and killed everyone there, and Kirost's mind went to the Good God, for he had been judged to have done more good than evil, having restored a family based on the old laws and the principles of justice, amongst many other deeds of valour.

So the Good God asked Kirost if he had a last request before his mind left the mortal world entirely; and Kirost told the Good God that he wished to go back to life and to kill his attackers, but the Good God said that to let the dead rise again was to damage the world and to do so in the name of goodness was to let the Evil God demand something of equal value in the name of evilness, and that therefore this request was such as could not be granted. Then Kirost asked the Good God to grant his children luck in avenging him, and the Good God agreed.

And so it happened that when Kirost's seven sons had heard of this, they set out with their retainers earned by right of lineage or by right of valour, and massacred Jonessa and his warriors and all other lions they found in the vicinity of the main army's camp, and after that some of them said that the required vengeance has been done, but at the subsequent mourning feast of the Horse Family the eldest of them, Darost, was elected as the new Horse Family Chief, and he decreed that the Horse Family would never stop killing lions except when stopped by circumstances, and since then the Horse Family and the Lion Family hated each other with a passion and slaughtered each other whenever there was opportunity, and many said that this was truly tragic, for the Lion Family guarded the western frontier and the Horse Family guarded the eastern frontier, but others said that it was good, because now there was no way the two mightiest and most valorous of families could fight together against the Chief-of-Chiefs, and whenever kept from killing each other would try and outdo one another in killing foreigners and other enemies. Also, some at that time thought that the Horse Family, being so recently rebuilt and made of people who in truth were until recently mere bandits, would not outlive its founder; nonetheless, it both survived and remained true to its laws of justice, by which the Horse Family had neither humans nor godlikes, but only the sons of Kirost, and never tilled the soil or traded, but left that to its slaves and friends, instead making war and preparation for war its sole profession.

As for Chief-of-Chiefs Second-Gaci, he fought one last great battle at Bisrium itself two years later, and destroyed what remained of the Bisrian king's army; and having taken Bisrium and purged it clean of evil, he became the King of Bisria and the Chief of All the Bisrian Families, and he granted the northern, eastern and western frontiers of the country with their populations over to the assorted Moti families, satisfying them all, and afterwards came back to Gaci-city to oversee the start of a new age of goodness and justice.

And though by the end it had turned out that this war had not quite destroyed all the evil in the world, its tide was nevertheless stemmed, wealth, piety and justice were all multiplied, the center of the world returned to its rightful place and the Good God stood up from his knees and injured the Evil God's arm.

From: Xetares, Spear of Taleldil, Terror of Idolaters
To: Gaci the Mountain Hermit

For too long have we pretended that Moti with the souls of animals are true people. Return to the dirt and root for nuts and berries like the pigs that you are.

Sorry if the quality is subpar compared to all the other stories around here; I’m still working on improving quality, which still seems to be poor.

Golden Discussion

We start are journey upon the ship, Golden, named after the almighty Golden Men. They who could turn anything into gold, but as we travel past the slipshod work that painted name on the hull appears to be, we find ourselves listening into a heated discussion about a variety topics.

“You lie Argatos, it is Nahari, not Naharry” stated the third in command, Hastos.

“Ahhh, but it does not matter, they are still hairy” slurred Argatos, the mere oarsmen who still barely held a goblet even though he had drained its contains long ago.

“Look, your half drunk more then the rest of us, if anything, you’d say that we are the naharry on the Soliman in the depts of ocean”

“Which Soliman? With the large amount of imagination these captains have, by golly, we have what, 7 Solimans now?” chimed in Ostmen,”And, don’t we have 3 more Goldens besides this fine beauty.”

“8 Solimans, 4 Goldens, get it right” Juilos said after rolling his eyes in the darks, why couldn’t every a pig of a man like Argatos keep on top of the news? Nothing ever happens out east anyways. The biggest event was the sinking of the Soliman, and that was what 2 years ago?

“Oh, you shut up, stop being an ass for once and be a man, why do we every need a scribe on” Argatos fired back.

“Oh stop pestering him Arg, he knows why he is here, but I’m wondering why you every arrived on the Golden.” Hastos sternly said.

“I was forced on, King Juilon's naval conscirpton” Argatos almost yelled back is spite, but restrained himself at the last second.

“No wondering you rather drink than row, you’re a conscripy” Ostmen stated in a mocking tone.

Many comments are heard from the onlooking who haven’t yet found something to mention and laughter erupts from around the Golden as Argatos storms off to one end of the boat in frustration and embarrassment, the discussion resumes in a more civilized manner.

“Where we heading anyways captain Rust? Asked Juilos

“West, that are my orders, gather along with the majority of fleet off of Ischya, then I’m suppose to receive more orders directly from King Julion himself”

“Long may King Juilon be rich! In life and wealth!” was spoken in a sort of reverence from several members of the ship.

“Yes, we, I believe will be seeing the, what did you call it, Arg?” laughed Rustinous.

“Naharries sir, Naharries, I am right Argatos?” Ostmen burst out in laughing.

“Shut up will you!” Argatos yelled.

“Yes, the King believes does not what Nahari to believe that we haven’t noticed their aggression unnoticed, or that was what he said to me and captian Gastomo when I last saw him before we left for Gade.

“But we are so far from them, its taken us a few months to get to Ischya from Gade, and isn’t….."

And we leave the Golden and the speculation that has been caused by the captains orders, is Leun out to attack Nahari? or is ot simply preparing for a attack by Nahari? Or neither, maybe I’m just writing a story for the bonus? Only time will tell.

to: Neruss and Gyza
from: The Empire of the Trilui
You are free from the oppression of the Sesh, we offer you protection.

to: Palmyra
from: The Empire of the Trilui
We wish to purchase your holdings in the Chimoai Isles. What is your price?

to: the Astrii
from: The Empire of the Trilui
We apologize and will withdraw from your domain, our maps were off. For clarification, where do you define your domain?

To:The Empire of the Trilui
From: Neruss

We are honoured by your presence and we recognise our new masters. The fact that you could wipe us of the face of the earth in a swipe of your finger makes us forever in debt to you. We offer our lands our wealth and our people.

Official Message to the known world:

The Neruss surrenders its lands to the Empire of the Trilui

To:The Empire of the Trilui
From: Neruss

We are honoured by your presence and we recognise our new masters. The fact that you could wipe us of the face of the earth in a swipe of your finger makes us forever in debt to you. We offer our lands our wealth and our people.

Official Message to the known world:

The Neruss surrenders its lands to the Empire of the Trilui

Very well, your nation and people will become an autonomous province under our wings.

Good we have come to and agreement... may you treat our lands well

To: The Empire of the Trilui
From: Palmyra

We are extremely reluctant to sell the islands because of it's extreme religious and cultural value to our nation.

However, we would be willing to give them up provided you give your territory that's shown in pink to us. We also ask to get 1,000 - 3,000 gp aswell.

I know this deal sounds extreme but we feel that this is how important the islands are to us.

http://i275.photobucket.com/albums/jj312/Wowakokukiye/Palmyra.jpg

to: Palmyra
from: The Empire of the Trilui
That offer is too extreme for us, we must turn it down. Sivi is a valuable trading post for us. But don't worry, no harm between us.

To: The Empire of the Trilui
From: Palmyra

Sounds good to me, if you change your mind though please inform us.

Here's the Uggor word thing that I gave das. He used them to name a lot of stuff in his story. I've added a few words since his stories, and I plan on adding even more words. But so far, here is the list:

Uggor Words

Uggor- Family
Igog- A company of men. Usuallly refering to groups of warriors.
Srupto- The World
Yensai- Mighty or powerful. Also the name of a river.
Coshunda- A large body of water. The Galas Sea is considered a Coshunda.
Gropohuna- Mountain. The Kotthorns are considered Gropohunas.
Jiti- Meal.
Brosli- Tree.
Brosligo- Treeless. Sometimes used to refer to the more flat areas of Krato, or possibly higher parts of the Kotthorns.
Fre- Life.
Frego- Lifeless or dead.
Gog-Man
Grig- Woman
Gor- People
Kotuu- Name for elephant.
Eso- Red/ Crimson
Gogi- Human
Sontog- Animal
Uyom- Evil
Cotun- Sheep
Yenrus Uggor- Great Family
Eso Kotuu- Crimson Elephant
Hno Un Hnos- Chief of Chiefs
Sogo- Goat
Afono- Cow

(This was a different set. Therefore, the translation is switched around for the first few.)
Horse: Durost
Ox: Afvanfo
Chicken: Pirtipel
Cat: Risfa
Lion: Jiressa
Tikhupata: Divine or mighty
Yenri- Good
Hnoyto-Council
Swen- One
Swenit-First
Kij- Two
Kijit- Second
Hwot- Three
Hwotit-Third
Buci- Four
Bucit- Fourth
Lon-Five
Lonit- Fifth
Lun- Six
Lunit- Sixth
Ver- Seven
Verit- Seventh
Bohu- Eight
Bohuit- Eighth
Katul- Nine
Katulit- Nineth
Cartu- Ten
Cartuit- Tenth
Empo- Blue
Ect- Green
Els- Yellow
Abu- Orange
Tivu- Purple
Nilhatsum- Gold
Musatsum- Tin
Bulatsum- Silver
Zyensum- Copper

Interesting. That will prove quite useful if I need any extra names, thanks! :)

Changing Times

Shafay Fetosa, bright and cheery, was engaged in an animated conversation in Hu’uti with Detto, a former Hu’ut slave and soldier of Faron who now worked an administrative job outside of Hiuttu, working to establish the foundations for the promised new Hu’ut state. General Fetosa too had made the transition from an active military position to considerably more peaceful and constructive work very smoothly. The youthful, brown-haired man lived a most content life- he had been elevated to the position of General in the final years of the war, won a string of powerful victories, and now worked to plant the seeds of peace and prosperity, which would grow out of the fallow lands of war.

His peace and conversation, however, was suddenly interrupted by the arrival of a messenger, clad in Faronun military gear.

“It’s General Maeriouhau! He’s had a fit sir!”

“Faerafaen?”

“Yes!”

Immediately, Shafay and his entourage were off.

*****

In the heart of the partially reconstructed palace, the two generals met. Faerafaen was surrounded by a concerned crowd.

“Make way!” shouted Shafay, squeezing his way through the crowd. Dropping to his knees, he glanced at the old man’s eyes- they were shaking and unfocused.

“What is it sir?”

Faerafaen looked at his protégé, and a brief expression, perhaps a sign of relief, passed over his face.

“I must get back to Faron. I have had a terrible revelation-“

“Of what?”

Faerafaen, still lying flat on his back, looked around.

“I must speak to you alone.”

“But-“

“I will be fine. Just get me some water.”

“He needs water!”

In moments, someone answered to the request by bringing forth water, in a rather gaudy bejewelled goblet, presumably one from the Imperial collection. Faerafaen regarded the object with distaste but happily accepted the refreshment.

“Please,” said Shafay, “The General requests my audience alone, for a moment.”

Faerafaen nodded, and the soldiers in the area coerced the concerned crowd out of the room, though not without a few hesitations.

“What is it?”

“I have had a terrible fear for the future of our people. I have held many minor concerns in the past, but just a brief while ago they all came together into a moment of clarity, and the shock... overwhelmed me. I believe I passed out on the floor.”

“They said you had a fit sir.”

“...perhaps I did. But now, I am working to determine what is to be done.”

“Done for what?”

“For Faron, damnit! Shafay, we’re losing what we’ve fought for without a fight!”

“What are you saying? You’re not making any sense! Calm down, or we might lose you aga-“

“Okay! Okay...” Faerafaen calmed himself, pulling his body up into the chair from which it had fallen, and started again. “What would you say of the Faeoria council?”

“What of it? It’s- well, it’s run by the- the...”

“The Maeriouhau, you don’t have to be shy saying that around me. Yes, it’s run by the Faeoria to which I belong, and for how long?”

“How long? Well... longer than I can recall.”

“Longer than you’ve lived, most likely, and for the majority of my life. Now listen, it was not always this way. In old times we’d never keep the same ruler, and control of the country was ever-changing.”

“But it is that way- we’ve had at least four monarchs in the last ten Haia (years). That’s how it’s always been, as far as I understand my history. That’s what sets us apart, that we-“

“I don’t need a lecture from you, General Fetosa. Yes, the kings change, but since when have they ever had power? Not since the Raelof Dynasty- Maohuanaei and his kin, and that was centuries ago. The way it used to be, the power balance between the Faeoria shifted just as fast as the head the rulership rested on. But now, the Maeriouhau have established such an alliance within the council that nothing can dislodge them- they control the kings, and they have for a generation. If something is not done, the Maeriouhau will become the tyrants we have always fought- Rayelaei will be a damned Queen!”

“Such things to say of your own family!”

“Shafay!” shouted Faerafaen, rising to his feet, “Get your deluded head out of the sand and think! It’s not about blind loyalty to our respective Faeoria, or seeking more power for myself or for others, it’s about not becoming in old age the villains that we fought in our youth! My Faeoria has established itself to a terrifyingly autocratic position, and the Faronun, focused so much on standing up against external enemies, have forgotten how to stand up to themselves! If I do not go back and stop this, we will end up a petty dictatorship like every other bloodstained state in this world! I- will- not- let- that- happen!”

“Haiaou above... you’re serious.”

Faerafaen was agog. He dropped back into his chair and held his head. In a moment, the general regained his composure, and gave his junior a deep look.

“You are an idealist, not yet corrupted to bitterness and pessimism like myself. Continue your work here, preparing the Hu’ut to hold the freedom here that you cannot see we are losing at home. I will travel north.”

“Sir?”

“North! I must return to Faron immediately.”

“But-“

“That is an order. You are to take on my role-“

“-until you return.”

“If I return. I must be off.”

With that, Faerafaen rose from his chair, as if rejuvenated. A quick call brought the soldiers back into the room, and a flurry of activity began. By the next morning, the old general had disappeared to the north, as an army of one man with his crucial mission firmly in mind.

to: Neruss and Gyza
from: The Empire of the Trilui
You are free from the oppression of the Sesh, we offer you protection.

To: Empire of the Trilui
From: Gyza

You will come to our aid if we are attacked? We would accept.

to: the Astrii
from: The Empire of the Trilui
We apologize and will withdraw from your domain, our maps were off. For clarification, where do you define your domain?

Roughly speaking it extends to the River Peko and south to your traditional border there.

Orders due in c. 8 hours.

To: Empire of the Trilui
From: Gyza

You will come to our aid if we are attacked? We would accept.


Yes we will.

Orders will come tomorro morning.. im a bit gatted at the moment ;)

Orders Tomarrow!

Well, I have sent my orders. If some how they didn't make it to you NK, I'll resend them.

This should be an extremely interesting update.

This will probably be the most important and longest update in the NES yet. I will try to do it justice. :)

Orders sent. Now all I can do is pray.

This will probably be the most important and longest update in the NES yet. I will try to do it justice. :)

Incidentally, I already sent this with the orders, but I suppose I might as well post it here to pester you further; my manpower hasn't changed since before the conquest of Bisria (and I only realised that a few hours ago). Presumably a mistake? :p

Incidentally, I already sent this with the orders, but I suppose I might as well post it here to pester you further; my manpower hasn't changed since before the conquest of Bisria (and I only realised that a few hours ago). Presumably a mistake? :p

Presumably. I'll adjust it soon. :p

This update will be fifty years, right?

This update will be fifty years, right?

Yes, despite the amount of stuff going on.

The Seven ride.

This post reserved for the update.

And this post as well!

This doesn't mean I'll get it done much faster than normal (though I hope to get it finished before Wednesday), I just saw the opportunity.

Orders have been sent.

A Quick Introduction to Bhehinar.

Bhehinar is an Avaimian language, almost directly descended from the family's common ancestor, Avaidi; with the majority of the differences between the two languages derived from the movement of the Avaimian people over time. The collapse of the Empire of the Great Ming is widely accepted as the initial cause of the displacement of the peoples bordering the Enthur. While not one of the original tribes to suffer, the Avaimians were thought to have been displaced by those displaced, and as such were forced to move southwest by the stronger tribes. After their location stabilized, along the lands lying between the Two Rivers, the language received great influences from their southern neighbors in addition to their new Ming-descended neighbors.

http://i451.photobucket.com/albums/qq240/Shadowsdomain/Beginning.png
Region thought to be the origin of the Avaimian people shown in brown.

The language of the northern portion of the continent, Bhehinar is the official language of the Evyni empire, with minor dialects spoken in Cotisi and among the peoples lying to their south. In addition to these, descendants of the Avaimian family are spoken widely in the north, a product of the movement of the people over time. Most of these languages differentiate greatly, most often concerning the pronunciation and presence of the vowels. Despite their vocal differences, many of the languages share the same vocabulary, granting greater reconciliations for their written forms.

http://i451.photobucket.com/albums/qq240/Shadowsdomain/Language.png
Area where members of the Avaimian family are spoken, with Bhehinar in burgundy and the southern dialects in red.
Avaidi family members shown in tan.

When pronouncing a word, emphasis must be placed upon the vowels as many of the words are very similar in sound yet very different in meaning. An example of this are the words Ayn and Áyn, the first meaning “and” while the latter means “turtle”. Although there are a few minor sound shifts when combined, these are rare and as such are committed from what is widely considered the “proper” Crier. This version of Bhehinar has ten vowels and twenty recognized, independent constants.

{A}- [ɑ] as in father.
{Á}- [eɪ] as in bay.
{Â}- [ɑs] or [ɑz] as in pass or razz.
{E}- [ɛ] as in bed.
{É}- as in feet.
{Ë}- [ɛ] modified.
{I}- [ai] as in ride.
{O}-[oʊ] as in h[/b]oe.
{Ö}-[oʊ] modified.
{U}- [ju] as in d[b]ew.

{B}- as in [i][b]but.
{C}- [s] as in see.
{Ch}- [tʃ] as in chew.
{D}- [d] as in [i]do.
{F}- [f] as in fool.
{G}- [ɡ] as in go.
{Ght}-[t ] as in sought.
{H}- [h] as in ham.
{J}- [dʒeɪ] as in jay.
{L}- [l] as in bell.
{M}- [m] as in man.
{N}- [n] as in no.
{P}- [p] as in pen.
{R}- [r] as in run.
{Rh}- [ɹ] as in rhye.
{S}- [ʃ] as in sure.
{Sch}-[sk] as in school.
{T}- [t] as in two.
{V}- [v] as in voice.
{Y}- [j] as in yes.


As a language. Bhehinar almost exclusively places weight upon the first syllable of the word unless the presence of a strong vowel. These vowels, properly {â], {ë}, or {ö}, are most commonly found within verbs or words of foreign origin, and when presence shift the weight to their surroundings. { Â} is found almost exclusively within verbs, save for a few adjectives of foreign origin, and denotes a blended sound, such as in the word thân (“to speak), pronounced “THAZ-n”. The character {Ë}, while found sometimes in place names, is more often the marking of a verb ( Sër, “to eat”) and when present denotes that the character is pronounced independently of its followers, thus allowing “Seh-r”. The final strong vowel, {Ö}, is found in the conjugation of verbs and in adjectives. Unlike the character { Ë}, the {Ö} serves two functions depending upon its location within a word. In most adjectives, such as cönl, cool, it comes as the first vowel and breaks the word as does {Ë}, allowing “coe-nl”. When the {Ö} falls as the second vowel or less, it performs the opposite and places the weight upon the remaining sound; for example while the the verb Jagös, is pronounced “Jah-GOES”, one of its forms, the present third, is jagos and is pronounced “JAH-goes”

A defining feature of the Avaidi family is that its descendants all lack a word form constituting the plural, that is that all their nouns and such are always singular unless noted by a modifier. To place in more understandable terms, while English adds an {s} to denote more than one object, such as taking cat to cats, a modifier must be used in Bhehinar to note more than one object. An example of this would be taking the word Segha, “song”, to segha iehn, literally “many song”, to denote more than one. While Bhehinar features a plethora of words without a definite number; such as many, some, a few, little, etc.; more often if a definite number will be provided if possible. So instead of segha iehn, you would more often receive segha chiu, or “five songs”.

Because they often defy the normal pronunciation rules, the minor Bhehinarian numbers are listed below:

Éyn (eeyn)- One
Édar (eedar)- Two
Éigh (EE-aigh)- Three
Aegh (AH-eh-gh)- Four
Chiu (Cha-ai-ew)- Five
Soghteos (Soe-ghteh-oes)- Six
Istea (Ais-teh-ah)- Seven
Énuit (Een-ewai-t)- Eight
Imote (Ai-mot-eh- Nine
Uteán (Ewt-ayn)- Ten
Utéyn (Ewt-eeyn)- Eleven (Ten-one)
Utédar (Ewt-eedar)- Twelve (Ten-two)
Utéigh (Ewt-eeah)- Thirteen
Utaegh (Ewt-ah-gh)- Fourteen
Utioh (Ewt-ai-oeh)- Fifteen
Utoghtás (Ewt-oe-ghtays)- Sixteen
Utistea (Ewt-ais-teh-ah)- Seventeen
Uténuit (Ewteen-ewai-t)- Eighteen
Utimote (Ewt-ai-mot)- Nineteen.
Édtéan (Eed-tee-ayn)- Twenty
Étéan ayn Éyn (Eet-eayn ahyn eeyn)- Twenty-one (Twenty and one)
Étean ayn Édar (Eet-eayn ahyn eedar)- Twenty-two (Twenty and two)
Éitéan (Eeai-tee-an)- Thirty
Éitéan ayn éyn (eeai-tee-an ahyn eeyn)- Thirty-one (Thirty and one).



*Note: The maps were not mod approved, so I could be wrong :).

When are the orders due?

Now Slavic ASAP.

When are the orders due?

You're already late.

Ordrs sent.

(Undermining a fellow (enemy) empire! yeah!)

Storytime!

The Golden’s Task:

“I trust all went well for the three of you” King Julion, Lord of all Leun, asked of the three captains assembled around him. The four middle aged men and the lesser multitude of servants, scribes, and maintenance men sat in a large chamber of the King’s Ischya residence. The large chamber was relatively empty of furniture except for a table of roughly draw maps and charts to the side, near the large door at the entrance and four large chairs that were brought into the center, one chair facing the other three.

The residence, King Juilon’s Ischya residence, while very much modest in comparison to the other grand palaces of the civilization of the far west, was still a site to behold when one come upon the complex, which only bowed down to the King’s rather unused Palace in the capital in terms of grandiose for buildings located in Leun. This was due to the fact that the King preferred to be out in his kingdom and the numerous city sates that constituted Leun rather than stay in isolation in the palace and listen to endless reports of how this or that was done. That was as his father had done.

He yearned to be out with his people, make them think that he truly cared about everyone, which he did, and he made it duty to use his extensive memory to learn the name or surname of everyone he meet. This was unsurprisingly an insurmountable duty, but the King still remembered the names and faces most of the small group of captains that he had under his trust. That was what allowed him to let the three captains to relax more than if the King simply asked for a report, but he introduced, each in turn to, the captain of the 2nd oldest Soliman, Odysseus, the captain of the 3rd oldest Golden, Rustinous, and captain of the newly commissioned Augustos, Polyos. And true to the King’s tactic, the captains divulged more then even Juilos thought.

All three immediately reported, no, rather blurted out nonsense, or what seemed to be with all three rapidly speaking in such close proximity. He was initially a tad surprised and annoyed at the sudden unprofessionalism displayed by the three men, as he could not account for it, was it the site of himself, for the small navy of Leun was consistently working to rescue this fishing ship or escorting this Leun trade fleet, it was nonstop work and between traveling overland and commanding his own personal ship, Juilos rarely had a chance to speak an actual discussion with his commanding subordinates after the initial celebration of a the launching of a new ship or the annual 3 year review. A review which Juilos has regretted ever since he proposed the plans to his father Augustos when he was a mere teenager due to complications in accomplishing it.

“Captains, gentlemen! Now one by one, give me a short report of the issues or hopefully lack of them before you arrived here and please try to avoid the unprofessionalism that just, just erupted. You don’t have to be formal to me as others in my position require, but please don’t be like to common beggar, blurting everything out as if your life depending on it. Odysseus, lets hear your account first.”

“My King, Juilos, all went well from our departure from the waters several leagues north or Tars, nothing was of note. No.” Captain Odysseus suddenly stopped and quickly glancing at captains Rustinous and Polyos, started to lean in towards the King and brought up his hand to mouth to blocks any spoken words, but the King quickly announced to all three.

“ Odysseus… All three of you, confidentiality does not matter, for the reason so you will learn by the end of this discussion. Odysseus, continue.” Was what Juilos announced, still continuing his psychological campaign to earn their trust and loyalty, for the task which he set ahead for them will rely on nothing but their trust and loyalty to him. What wasn’t known to the King, however, was that his campaign was already ended in victory and if anything, he was tying up lose ends; this he realized by the behavior of the captains within 10 minutes.

After glancing at first King Juilos, then the captains seated to his right, Odysseus finally reported, almost with reluctance, ”We saw no Nahari warships, though we saw a patrol of Tars warships, if you want to call them that, for the were tiny in compared to ours. Though, do not be fool my King, there was merchants a plenty, more than I have ever personally seen. As we traveled farther and farther west upon the sea, more and more trade ships of all nations appeared on the horizons, though a large majority were Opulensi.” Odysseus concluded and followed his hands into his lap and waited for King to process the information and make a response. However, instead of providing praise as Odysseus expected, for he had fulfilled his order to the fullest, the King unknowingly disappointed by simply accepting the information and moving on.

“Thank you Odysseus, Rustinous, your report”

Rustinous, who had been pretending to listen but rather listlessly looked of into the distance trying to control his fiery temper which was very much annoyed with Odysseus’s droll report. Odysseus had a reputation of being pompous and prideful fool, making the most simple and/or pathetic of tasks seems like he was a Golden Men performing it, and the King actually believed him. Rustinous kept his cool and promptly answered the King.

“We surveyed the large southern island as you said my King and the prospector said that there is indeed a great possibility of silver and even gold on the island.” At the first moment that the word, gold, or even silver, left the lips of Rustinous, the eyes of the other 3 males lit up, especially those of captains yet to speak, Polyos.

“If you send a servant down to my ship, the Golden, docked down in the harbor and fetch my scribe, Ostmen, he can give you the written report of whole matter, but in his short description of it to me, he said that the volume of a trade stemming from those, lucrative resources, could be great.”

“More gold for all of us!” Odysseus exclaimed looking cheerful at the possible accumulation of wealth.

“We can speak of the Gold at a later time, please let Rustinous continue.” King Juilon wearily interjected.

“Thank you King Juilon, but I do not have much more to say, we were blown off course, which caused delays in getting here, which you probably noticed.”

“Yes”

“Actually, I do have a problem, and it worries me, sir, and it is a small rivalry that is slowly coming into bloom, between the conscripts of your naval conscription plan and the veterans. I didn’t detect the conflict until it was right in my face” said Rustinous with a chuckle, remembering back to the night when his third in command, Hastos, who was a good man, psychologically abused a rather heavier set, and lazier man of his crew, Argatos.

“Has this conflict started a physical conflict?” King Juilon asked after a second of quiet thinking.

“NO, no, my king, just, no a conflict, more a rivalry.” Rustinous blurted out in an attempt to quickly let the King not have time to wonder about he being the cause of this rivalry. For besides being a anger prone man, Rustinous was also a very stressed man, always fearing demotion, for his family was one of the original seafaring Leuns, and as he was the 5th son, he had a tradition to maintain, and to fail to remain a captain was to fail remain a Lusker, his family’s surname. So Rustinous was always on the look out, even for such trivial matters. Crewmen who had long served under Rustinous privately concluded that this look out behavior also caused the temper.

This stressful look out and temper was duly noted by the King in earlier occasions with Rustinous, but he did not notice now, as that was Rustinous’ relived thought when Julion simply concluded with a:

“I foresaw possible resentment when I implemented the conscription, an open rivalry though… I did not see that occurring, but rivalries make the ones involved work all that harder. Right?

“Of course.”
“Yes”
“Yes sir.” Rung throughout the hall simultaneously as the three captains raced to prove themselves the best of the three to the king in their own small rivalry that had started to develop. If the king had known this, then their own behavior would have answered his inquiry.

“Then it should be of little consequence to us, if even that. Thank you Rustinous. Polyos, your report?” King Juilon stated and asked and turned his head to face Polyos, the quietest of the three captains. Of course, he had yet to formally give his report, but even so, he could have put his two cents in as had Odysseus. But Polyos was more a quiet, calculating man, a schemer as rumor had it.

“My patrols brought nothing out of the nothing out of the ordinary.” Was Polyos’ quick and curt reply.

“Ah, nothing is always good. Thank you Polyos.” King Juilon said in the same manner as Polyos. The three captains then leaned further into their seat, if it was even possible, as all three had presumed correctly that they had not be invited to this meeting just to talk of reports. They had been invited for something important and prepared themselves for the task King Juilon had set for them as the King himself took a deep breath and leaned backed in the chair eventually saying,

“Captains, gentlemen, as you may have assumed, I brought the three of you for a vital mission. Do any of you know of the recently established colony to the far north?” Juilon asked as 2 of the three captains leaned back trying to hide their blank and unknowing faces while the third, instantly delighted at the chance to outshine the others, said,” It was established, what… 6 years ago to help better encourage trade with the Acaya.”

“You lie Polyos” exclaimed Odysseus,” The Accan Empire is half way across the world to the west. How could we establish a colony even close to them?”

“No Odysseus, not Acca, Acaya” King Juilon quickly interjected in order to dispel any chance of an argument.

“Humph” Was all Odysseus replied.

“Well… I have not heard from this colony for 6 months and I fear that something negative has affected it, if it even exists any more.” King Juilon said with a shade of weariness, as if he had stressed over the issue for many hours.

“It was the Acaya” Odysseus nearly yelled as he jumped to his feet practically stunning the King.

“I concur” Rustinous added.

“We should take a fleet and kill them for their evil actions” Odysseus proclaimed, but King Juilon, finally regaining his sense, quickly spoke to stop any aggressive towards Acaya. “We will do no such thing Odysseus. The Acaya have shown no aggression towards us and we have and will continue to return the favor. Please sit down Odysseus.”

“But who else would have committed such a, a, atrocity as to kill the colony?” Odysseus said as he slowly sat back down trying to argue for his course of action.

“I do not know, that is why” King Juilon said and taking a deep breath, “I will be sending the three of you north with your ships to investigate the situation and if possible, correct the problem.”

The dome of the Sapphire City can be seen for miles. But that is not our concern. Nor are the rising walls of the great triangular citadel that men have taken to calling the Ark, for its' prow-like tower, pointing down the river toward Seis like the raised spear of a warrior. Nor is the great hexagonal arena, or the vast slave markets, packed with buyers and sellers alike. In fact, Magha is not our concern...but what lies below Magha is.

For countless thousands of years, the Sesh and the Jafa have carved deep gouges in the land, like a plow pulled by thousands of giant oxen. Before they open out into the lowlands near Tisesh, the rivers are still powerful with mountain runoff, but too wide to cross. And they have carved the Red Cliffs of Bahra.

Silver fish dart through the waters, daring the languid crocodiles to come closer. After a brief swell of reeds, the stony shore gives way to the cliffs, a harsh red stone, almost as if all the blood spilt in the Sesh had flowed here and collected, staining the earth for all time. There are places where the cliffs grow low, allowing spring floods from the Two Rivers to water the fertile plain between. But at Magha, where the white Jafa and blue Sesh are joined, these cliffs are at their highest. The city itself is a triangle, narrowing as the space between the rivers narrows, high above the rushing waters.

These red cliffs defied even the Silver Prince, whose scouts reported that no mass of horse could ever cross such a diffcult waterway, unless Taleldil himself could lift them through the air or build a bridge from the winds. Atraxes was forced to move his armies far upstream, fording the icy headwaters of the Sesh where a light coverlet of snow coated the ground, in order to storm down on the Bahran royal city as he had planned.

This city has now been a Satar place for several generations, but it was the wandering Ardavani ascetics who viewed the red cliffs as something more than the minor diversion or troubling nuisance that they were for the locals. Oracles and acolytes of Ardavan alike were both drawn to and repelled from the city: Drawn because the Redeemer was there, and repelled because of the noise and chaos of the place.

The red cliffs were a perfect solution. And so began the great tradition of oracular cliff-temples, which would last for many years.

Ardavan is a religion based on discipline and martial prowess. The mind and body are dual weapons to be honed, for the battles in this life and the tests of the next. So many Ardavani seek isolation for just that reason: To train their bodies and minds, outside influences must be purged.

So, as the great building of the monuments of Magha went on above, a quieter process continued below on the cliffs. Men were lowered down on ropes and slings, and before long wooden platforms were improvised. The discovery of the pulley from a passing Seshweay servant greatly improved matters. The quiet clink of chisels went on, day and night, as the cliffs were shaped and honed. Within some years, the first platforms had been carved out of the red stone.

The first few were simple surfaces carved into the cliffs, with the overhanging rock of the cliff above forming a low ceiling for what was really a small, box-like cave. After a minor collapse, a strict order from the Redeemer forbade the oracles from burrowing too deep into the cliff side. So, the oracles wandered. They searched for lightweight building materials of reeds and wood. And the construction continued, building out from the cliffs as opposed to into them.

Their homes were small niches inside the cliffs, with a small training circle for pre-dawn exercises in the dark within the earth. Then, the oracles of Magha left their tunnels, and wandered out into the maze of wooden platforms, stone walkways, rope bridges, and shrines that lined the cliffs, poking out into thin air above the rushing rivers. They made their dawn chants to Taleldil, practiced forms of agility and concentration, and joined their brothers in combat on the great platforms buttressed by mighty beams of wood from the mountain forests, that could hold twenty men or more.

While the cliff-temples became more beautiful and intricate as time went on, with reliefs from the Kaphai-Avai and images of Taleldil carved from the red stone, and shining, polished hardwood replacing the ramshackle boards of the first few shrines, the cliffs would be impossible to cross by any but an Ardavani or an exceptionally talented commoner. More than one acolyte fell to his death, countless feet below, for a momentary lapse in concentration on the morning walk to training.

It was on these cliffs that the Ardai were born.

History of Palmyra's Buildings.

The cities, villages, and towns of Palmyra have distinct building styles based on when it was built and who did so. They often were created by whatever material is at hand. In fact, it's possible to see that one building of one style can be m=next to another one with an entirely different one. It can also reflect who or what group of people live in the area.

The most ancient and the wealthiest style of buildings is the Walloong Mootoo which means cold stone which comes from the cool feeling when touched. It's made out a mixture of marble and clay which often has to come from far away areas to be built. It's home to the wealthy and or a place of religious significance. In addition the main government offices and administration are often housed within these buildings.

http://i275.photobucket.com/albums/jj312/Wowakokukiye/Greece_by_mijaba.jpg

But the religious sites and shrines are similar to the Walloong Mootoo but depending where they are they can be much more ornate inside the building.
In the most important shrines the inside is often painted with rare dyes and covered in frescos of religious significance. In addition the most important ones often have not just Walloong Mootoo but also have a rare blue stone that's thought to be from a meteorite that had crashed into remote area of Palmyra in the very distant and remote past.

http://i275.photobucket.com/albums/jj312/Wowakokukiye/ClassicalMausoleum.jpg

The interior of the buildings can very from shrine to temple often depending on what is around but also the importance of the religious site.

http://i275.photobucket.com/albums/jj312/Wowakokukiye/MausoleumInterior2.jpg

The fleets of the Trilui sail.

The fleets of the Trilui sail.
To where do they sail?

They Sail through Treha of course! :P

whoever worrries most about them is whom they sail upon?

Why is everyone so paranoid.

Why is everyone so paranoid.

OOC: Why did you make that post?

Answer? Conehead wants everyone to be paranoid ;)

Why is everyone so paranoid.

Backstabbing, conspiracies, general chaos. :shifty: This is the most important update NK said. That should indicate that big things are going down.

Originally Posted by Ninja_Dude
Backstabbing, conspiracies, general chaos. This is the most important update NK said. That should indicate that big things are going down.

Have I mentioned how glad that I am about being up here in the calm north :)?

To where do they sail?

Against Opulensi of course, isnt it quite obvious?

Change orders sent!

Against Opulensi of course, isnt it quite obvious?

Na, we have other business first, don't worry, your time will come. All this hype over some exploration expedition.

You telling me I wrote all those combat orders just for naught? :(

dude, that's mean. Seriously, mean.

You telling me I wrote all those combat orders just for naught? :(

dude, that's mean. Seriously, mean.

Yes, that is what I am telling you.

OOC: For supposed effect, listen to http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GFLMLHPVhaw while reading.


Fall from Grace, part 1.

The city of Epichrisi, Year 207 SR.

The King was standing in the harbour, watching as more and more men were boarding the ships heading to Dinyart. He stood silent, firm, with a calm look at his face. With a distant gaze in his eyes he watched as ranks of Opulensi soldiers marched the docks and disappeared to the depths of countless galleys. It was a hot day, and the blazing sun burned the necks of the armoured bodyguards around him. The soldiers tried to hold their composure in the face of their King, but none could do it like he did. Like a statue made of stone, he stood.

"My King, the last ships are soon ready to sail. With them, the Daharai you requested."

For the first time, King lowered his gaze. Slowly he turned to face the messenger. The man he was looking at was tall, dark haired soldier at the height of his strenght, bearing heavy armor and holding a helmet decorated with seagull's feathers in his right hand, marking him as a general of Opulensi army.

"Thank you, Daros" - King replied and turned to watch the ships sailing out of the harbour.

"With a cheer on their face they boarded the ships, waving goodbyes to their wives and children, and with promises of quick return once the war is won..." - The King paused, sighing, and then continued:

"I wonder... I wonder if any of them realise, that none of them will ever be returning to the soil of their beloved homeland..."

"They are priviledged men, to be able to march into battle and prove their themselves. Through their blades thousands of our enemies will fall, and it is enlightement that is awaiting for them, if they are deemed worthy." - Daros replied in confident, warm voice.

"I fear that they will not be the only ones who will have to prove themselves in combat, because in the end, Dinyart will fall. And once it does, the last small buffer between our homeland and our enemies is gone." - King replied with a distant, melancholic voice.

"Should it happen, we will be ready, my King. We will face our enemy in battle and make them pay with their lives for their incursion to our homeland." - Daros replied again with the same confident voice.

"Yes, we do. But for each soldier your men smite down, they will bring 3 more to take his place." - King replied and turned back to Daros, continuing;

"We march to battle, but not to victory. There is only so much a man can do when the odds are stacked against him..." - King fell silent for a moment, staring to the confident eyes of Daros, then returning his gaze back to the leaving ships before continuing;

"Oh why I must live through these tough times, to see the fall of the nation my farthers have built for my people. To see our land ravaged by foreigners, it's forests burned, it's farmlands stomped, it's cities pillaged, it's people slaughtered like a cattle. I have failed the legacy of my fathers, and for that, there is no enlightement for me to gain, no way for me to join all my fathers in thereafter."

"My King, you have done all in your power to save your father's legacy. You will make our enemies pay tenfold for each blow they deal to us, and that is something our enemies will remember for the centuries to come. Your rule will be remembered, and your actions as a man who did all he could against impossible odds to protect his people will gain you enlightement. Of this, I have no doupt." - Daros replied in warm, reassuring voice.

"It is yet to be seen..." - King said, then continuing after a brief pause: "Any news about retraining?"

"A message arrived from the Daharai in Ormiskos. They are making steady progress." - Daros replied.

King nodded and watched at the last couple ships left the docks. For a moment, there was no sound other than wind blowing at the rooftops of the city, and the cry of a seagull far above them. As the last ships disappeared into the horizon, King turned to leave, and said to Daros:

" Come. There is still much work to do before the end..."

Anyway, North King, if you do update my manpower for the purposes of this update, hopefully that should be taken into consideration with regards to my assorted secondary mobilisation efforts as detailed in the orders, because as you might understand I would want any troops I could get.

Nahari Empire orders sent ~ sorry for the delay :(

People trashed the college computer room so it was locked up all weekend...

Fall from Grace, Part 2.

Plains, somewhere at the western Opulensi coastline, year 218 SR.

"Damned rain and mud..." - a man cursed under his breath. "This message was to be delivered at all possible haste, but here I am pulling this accursed chariot out of this stinking mud yet again!"

"Save your breath and pull!" - another man answered. After few minutes of hard labor, the chariot had been lifted from the mud, accompanied by few more curses.

"Get here allready. We must be on our way!" - a soldier with an armor decorated in the shape of seagull's wings yelled. He was Araios, a sergeant of the royal navy. The other man, named Erestion, was from the local garrison from a small town in northwestern opulensi.

"Handling these animals is something far different than rowing a boat, sailor! Wait until I've checked the reins."

In a moment, the squabbling men were on their way again. They had been travelling for a day and a night in a one go, only stopping once to change their horses. Now, their journey was soon coming to an end.

"Look. Old campsites." - said Araios, pointing at the plains in front of them. " The main army must be close."

"Finally. I'm so fed up by this mission. I'll be glad to get rid of that stench of sea you are carrying with youself." - Erestion replied with clear contempt.

"Do remember which one of us is of higher rank. I'll have you punished for mocking a superior officer if you carry on." - Araios replied quickly with cold and determined voice. "And do not despise the royal fleet. Serving on the ships requires much more than just swinging a sword, which is all you do."

"And how much did this grand fleet accomplish now that we think of it?" - Erestion replied swiftly.

Araios fell silent, and after a brief moment he replied: "Just drive."

They rode on for another hour. Rain had stopped, and the skies were becoming clear again. Setting sun releaved itself in the west. In the last rays of the sunset they finally arrived at the army camp at the foot of a large hill. At the entrance of the camp, they were halted by a guard.

"State your business" - the guard said with cold, harsh voice.

"I am sergeant Araios of the Royal fleet. I have a message to the general from the grand admiral." Araios showed the guard the official message bearing the seal of the grand admiral himself.

"Very well, you may enter. You'll find general near the top of the hill, at the eastern slope. Let them pass!"

As the men entered the camp, they saw countless rows of tents on their both sides. Hundreds, at least thousands of men could be seen around them. Each passing soldier Araios could see was seemingly nervous. Erestion noted this too.

"The battle is close it seems." - Erestion said, now with a voice without contempt. Instead, it was replaced by the restlessness shared by the men around him.

Araios stayed quiet.

As they neared the top of the hill, Araios looked down to the camp where they came from. Now he could see it was far bigger than it had first seemed. A massive army, the whole strenght of Opulensi miltiary had been gathered here. As Araios continued to marvel in the sight of such force, Erestion woke him up from his dream by poking him with his elbow and pointing at the ranks of soldiers now in front of them.

"Look at their armor. They are no ordinary soldiers... are they - "

" - Daharai. The King's personal elite guard. And the man on the horse must be Daros..." - Araios replied with a voice indicating of great reverence. "Stop the chariot."

Araios dismounted and started walking towards the general. As the bodyguards stopped him, he showed the sealed message and continued. Then, he was standing next just next to the General. Daros, the legend himself.

"Sir... I bring message from grand admiral of the royal fleet. He - "

"The fleet is destroyed, is it not?" - Daros interrupted him. His voice was calm and steady, as if he couldn't care less of the news Araios brought him.

"...Yes, it is, sir. Only few dozen ships managed to escape. The enemy is landing troops just few days march away in the north." As Araios had said this, he examined the face of Daros carefully. He couldn't notice a single reaction in the man's face. They both remained still, Daros looking at the valley in front of him, Araios at the general.

After a while, Daros nodded and said: " Thank you. You may take your leave. Go rest, as I will have a message for you to deliver back."

"Yes sir." Araios saluted, turned and marched away.

Daros remained quiet and gazed again at the valley in front of him. The sun had almost set, and with the last remaining rays of light Daros could see the enemy camp just few miles away.

"The navy destroyed..." - A man beside him said in a familiar melancholic voice.

"It was to be expected." - Daros replied to the King.

King sighed. "I know. But it doesn't make it any easier."

"By landing troops behind us, they will try to pincer us down here. Not that it wasn't expected, I would have done the same thing in their part." - Daros replied with confident voice.

"Our fate is catching up on us. Soon, the battle to resolve this all will take place... and then we will see if I have done enough..." King said, staring at the enemy camp.

Daros glanzed at the King, and for the first time man could see a faint smile on his face.

As the sun finally set behind the horizon, darkness crept over the land and countless fires were lit in both camps. That night, there was little sleep for the soldiers of either side...

Ignore changed orders please. Use regular ones. Thanks

IF it doesn't delay.

I think it may be a little late for that, considering that NK said that the update would likely be done today. Delays stink. :(

Changed. Thanks! Sorry if I delayed NK...

I totally agree with you... delays suck!

Any news on the update?

Well, I've had trouble working on it since I got back to school; things are pretty intense here. I'll see what I can do...

NK, I will seriously paypal you a dollar if the update is done tonight. :p

That's probably like 1/20th of minimum wage, man. :p Don't worry, it will get done eventually, but I make no guarantees as to when.

Man, I saw the new posts and thought the update was here. :(

Well, I'm okay with waiting. :) I'm sure it will be extremely interesting to see how things play out. :evil:

I equally would paypal money for NESing

Troubles Abound

Trefain Perof winced, rubbing his temples and leaning back in his chair. What times were these for him to lead his Faeoria? In the past few months, there had been madmen from the north bearing the direst portents of doom- as if the Faeriouhaouans were not trouble enough. General Maeriouhau had come to warn of a plot by his own Faeoria to take over the council- a ridiculous notion- powerful though they are, they remain utterly dependent on the support of the smaller Faeoria, such as his own. Regardless of this, Faerafaen Maeriouhau- not that he could really claim that name anymore, as Lady Ryelaei had cast him out of the Faeoria for his words- had certainly convinced a few of the more paranoid members of the council, as evidenced by the betrayal of the Aramsayafa.

Trefain was considered to be a rational and practical man- an ideal representative of his proud, if small Faeoria Perof, natives of the southern coast and Trilui border. But now? It was as half the council was now filled with hotheaded fools! Rabble-rousers like the old general, impulsive rebels like the young Raenacu Aramsayafa, leading his own army off to fight in distant lands against the Satar.

Augh, but what a mess the Aramsayafa betrayal had been, and continued to be. A Faeoria acting independently, in direct opposition to the known and stated will of Council and king? It was unprecedented! What would the Faronun be if every Faeoria acted on every whim without first agreeing on shared courses of action in the council? A disunited coalition of thousands of statelets, that’s what!

Trefain’s internal rant came to a simmering conclusion, and he rose back into a sitting position to see a Faerouhaiaouan representative making a rant of his own about the ‘invasion’ of Faron by the refugees fleeing the Satar. Damn close-minded uplanders, they should know as well as everyone else that Faron was founded by people fleeing enslavement- that enslaver didn’t have to be the Hu’ut to give their plight legitimacy. Besides, the Faronun had not begun as a single ethnicity- and look at the Hamakuans! It would be a lengthy search indeed to find a descendant of those who had fled that collapse who now identified with that long-dead nation. At any rate, the behaviour of the Faerouhaiaouans had been increasingly troubling as of late- fortifying their mountain cities and acting with increasing hostility to the people settling in their ‘ark’. Mild annoyance towards the desire of some people (being exceptionally concerned with the threat of the Satar) to move into more easily defensible lands was understandable, but the Faerouhaiaouan response of violence and hostility was utterly unwarranted. The fact that military force was nearly applied made the situation that much more serious.

It seemed that the only sane Faerouhaiaouans left were the Maeriouhau- though they had different problems of their own.

Trefain would seldom even admit it even within his conscious mind, but there was something distinctly troubling afoot with the Maeriouhau. That someone would give up everything just to warn of a conspiracy could reveal the vast depth of its severity- or to the withered mental capacities of a worn-out general. He sympathized too with the actions of the Aramsayafa, even though he would not dare to do the same- he was wise enough to know that their actions would either be judged in the future as the bold actions of heroes who went against the orders of their superiors, or the delusional campaign of a war-happy youth who brought ruin to his own nation.

Shelving these thoughts again in the library of his mind, Trefain rose to speak in response to the bigoted Faerouhaiaouan- though he was not a man of decisive actions, there were some words which he could not tolerate to hear spoken without correction. It was in the war of words that his greatest strengths revealed themselves.

Whether or not such talents would be enough to save Faron remained to be seen.

A confirmation of the assumption made in my previous post would be appreciated; anyway, am gloating.

A confirmation of the assumption made in my previous post would be appreciated; anyway, am gloating.

you didn't see the coalition coming?

Hmm? Which coalition - the one with me or the one against me?

With you.

tenchar

I know that I sure did.

I see what you did there.

I saw a great weakness.

With you.

tenchar

In that case, yes, I did "see that coming". Partly arranging it probably helped. :p

For the sake of clarity, the gloating comment was more to pass the time/make Thlayli come up with an arrogant retort, and was not in reference to any of the posts above it.

I saw a great weakness.

I saw a great target.

I saw a lot of people with less soldiers than me.

I saw a lot of people with less soldiers than me.

Please don't stop. This is tickling me to death.

I saw a great target.

You shouldn't have done that.

You shouldn't have done that.

Hey, Lucky, come on. You are just the baby school, and I am the Big League Chew. Why you try?

Hey, Lucky, come on. You are just the baby school, and I am the Big League Chew. Why you try?

I are bestier.

You know, from an outside point, this is all hilarious. Incredibly.

Please stop spamming the thread. Thank you.

Nahari’s Fleet

An so the great ships of the Nahari Empire set out across the Kbrilma Sea. Their prize was the capture of eastern spice-islands from the upstart nation Cheidia. Also at stake was the promise of rich trade routes with the fabled eastern nations. The battle was dangerous, for the Kbrilma Sea was treacherous; the ragged shores littered with the bleached carcass of many unfortunate vessels. Their rotting remains looked like the body of a beached whale to Anseed, its body picked clean of flesh.

This was Anseed’s first naval battle and his heart pounded with such intensity. He held is hands clasped over his month as if fearful it would leap out should he give it chance. The promise of glory and his fathers recognition burned brightly in the young mans desires. He drew and checked his rapier blade, a family’s history was held within that blade. Its notched edge guilty of revealing the many battles it had already fought. His father had fought with this blade against the many pirates that plagued the local waters.

The Nahari Empire had not sought a battle with Cheidia, but their rude refusal of the offer of union had demanded it. King Ruman the Great had shown respect when he offered them union, the insult therefore all the greater when refused. This slight has spurred King Ruman to commander the leading ship, he would make them pay for their slight, and return to Illiria is pride restored.

The lead ship he commanded was a sleek vessel, one built for speed and manoeuvrability. It skipped over the demanding waves rather than trying to tame them. Its lack of brute force meant he would not be making direct assaults on the enemies ships, instead attempting to flush them out of any strategic position, or better still forcing them onto the rocks.

The Nahari Empire’s fleet was mixed in design. While the king’s ship was of one design there were several others. The most prominent were the battle barges. They could inflict terrible damage upon any ship they came across. With a reinforced ram at the front, bronze plated hull, and a small catapult capable of firing balls of flaming pitch. Their intimidating design, glinting in the fires of war was a terrible sight to behold. Few would face the battle barges, choosing to flee rather than risking collision.

The Nahari Empire fleet dwarfed Cheidia’s, quite why they had resisted baffled King Ruman. As the fleet closed in on its target he began his speech;

“Pride comes before a fall my men, while I am sure we will be victorious today, be vigilant, it is a fool who believes the battle won before he is standing over the body of his enemy.
Be proud, stand tall, for you a Naharians, and this battle marks an important apex in our destiny. Victory and it will launch us into a period of greatness, a golden age for our nation. We will be without peer on the waves, our rich fleet growing fat on the riches drawn from the east. The old nations will marvel at our discoveries, falling over themselves to praise our victory this day”

Some info on the progress of the update would be nice. Though obviously no rush, we all know how busy college is. At least I do. >_<

Faron intends to establish an independent nation of Hu'ut freemen in the Hu'ut territories under Faronun control. We are currently in the process of making this once-impossible dream a reality.

@lord_joakim- Would you be interested in leading this new state?

OOC: My plan was to convert the Hu'ut Empire to a slave-free slowly after the war with a number of reformations since everyone else was doing it. Perhaps. :)

Oh, and the update is incredible, even though I got pwned. I just haven't been much online recently.

LJ, your alive!

Well, once the Hu'ut are ready to stand free again, assuming we survive the tribulations to come, I'd be happy to let you take control of that proud nation once again.

I'll just note that I am interested. We'll see.

Sorry for bump, but this glorious NES had dropped from page one. :(

RL busy busy NK?

Yes, otherwise I'd have updated.

*sigh*

Thanks, stop spamming.

Actually, I think spamming is now necessary, since baaad Abaddon caused the epic Update Is At Top Page feeling to somewhat fail.

Actually I think it's not, since I already have posts reserved. Thanks for the thought, though.

Bedtime Story

Rahelaia and Taerafaen, sister and brother, lay down beside each other, whispering. They were huddled under an old fleece blanket and above a straw mattress, a slowly fading fire at their feet. The warm orange light dimly lit their small, open house. In the dim light one could make out the basin and the pantry in one direction, and their father’s workshop in the other.

Wooden beams held up the straw-insulated roof, designed to keep in the heat in the cool Helsian winters. One translucent window glowed a dull blue- it was a moonlit night outside.

However, between the children, the topic of discussion was the fire.

Rahelaia rolled over and poked her sleeping mother in the back.

“Mom!” she whispered.

Taerafaen giggled.

“Mom!”

Paraeana rolled over and opened her eyes.

“Yes honey?”

“Mom-”

“Where did fire come from?” interrupted Taerafaen.

“Raf! I was going to ask her.”

“Hush...” smiled their mother, “I can tell you where fire came from...”

“Yeah?”

“If you promise to go to sleep once you’ve heard.”

“Okay!”

Long, long ago, when the world was young, long before myself, your father, or even grandma were born, the world was much different. The Earth-Spirits, the Thaeraia ruled the land, the Water-Spirits, the Coraia ruled the seas, and Haiaou ruled the air.

People lived in the countries of these spirits, along with all of the animals, and they were happy. However, things weren’t perfect. One time, there was an Earth-Spirit who got very greedy. His name was Graeo, and he had limbs as big as trees and a body tougher than boulders.

“Wow, he’s bigger than dad!”

“Don’t wake up your father dear, or else you won’t get to hear the rest.”

The children fell silent.

And his voice was the loudest thing anyone had ever heard. Sometimes he would sing, but when he was angry, he would yell and roar until everyone around him had to hold their ears shut for fear of him.

Every day, he watched over the people he ruled and he watched them farming, fishing and enjoying life. He should have, because the people made him delicious food and rich gifts. However, when he finished going through what had been given to him, he saw the people, and they were still happy.

At first, Graeo was confused. He had thought that people would be angry to give him gifts. Then, he grew envious.

“Why are they not sharing their happiness with me?” Graeo wondered. In order to get them to share, he demanded ten times as much food and ten times as many gifts. The people accepted, and gave him what he demanded. However, despite this difficult accomplishment, the people still managed to be happy and go on with their lives.

Angry, now, Graeo realized that he still didn’t have happiness.

“They are still not sharing it with me! I must find what makes them happy and take it for myself!”

Thus, Graeo demanded all of the possessions, all the homes, and all of the food and water of his people, save that which they needed to survive. Frightened, the people accepted. They had to work very hard to survive now, but even at this point, they still saved up enough food to hold the solstice festival of Haiaou.

Graeo saw this festival, the smiles on the people’s faces, and suddenly realized what he thought was making them happy.

“Of course! Haiaou is giving them happiness, and they are sharing none of it with me! No matter, I’ll take it for myself.”

Thus, Graeo set out to build a giant wall over the people, so that he could receive his happiness directly from Haiaou. When the wall was finished, the people became cold and dark, and the last smiles fell from their faces.

However, Haefi, the Trickster Thaeraia saw this and was upset- Graeo didn’t understand that taking all of these things from the people would not make him happy, and the people, denied of food, heat and light, were going to starve.

Coming up with a plan to help them, Haefi took a stick and climbed onto the highest mountain, waiting for Haiaou to pass by. When he did, Haefi leapt up and poked Haiaou with the stick, then shot down to the ground on a beam of fire and light. When he landed he held in his hand a stick, with a piece of Haiaou on the end. He gave this gift to the cold and darkness-enshrouded people of Graeo’s realm, and they were happy once again.

Upon discovering this, Graeo let out a terrible roar of anger, and started chasing the laughing Haefi around the world. Haefi continued his trick, stealing bits of Haiaou and flying down to earth, each time prompting a roar from the giant Graeo. Today, every time lightning strikes down from the sky, you can still hear an echo of Graeo soon afterwards.

Meanwhile, the people of the world were given the gift of fire. With it, they could keep a bit of Haiaou’s light at night, and bring it into dark places where his light could have previously never reached. The people who were ruled by Graeo escaped to other lands, and were joyful once again- and you can still see the walls, in the great cliffs at Raedelheis.

“And that is how we got fire!”

“Wow!”

“What happened to Graeo?”

“Well, after a long time he grew tired of the chase and stopped. He went back to his home, but found that all of the people had gone. Eventually, he decided to go on a search, to find happiness- but that’s another story.”

Paraeana smiled. The children’s complaints soon faded to mumbles, and in a few minutes they were asleep. Their mother was quick to follow.

The fire grinned widely.

Awwww.... such a cute story, Iggy :)

Thanks. :) It's what happens when a desire to write a story about domestic Faronun life, a story about Faronun mythology, and be a little less formal in my language comes together.

That's funny...I just happened to be writing a child-themed story too, though one with a slightly different focus. I'll post it when it's finished.

According to NK this is going to get an update this month, so its' state of semi-activity merits keeping it on the first page.

....*massivetwitch*.....

Can no one allow the mod to refresh a page at their choosing?

End of Empires - Update Ten
The First Armageddon
c. Thirty years.
202 - 230 SR by the Seshweay Calendar
101 - 129 RM by the Satar Calendar

http://img354.imageshack.us/img354/296/year8physicalpx1.th.png (http://img354.imageshack.us/my.php?image=year8physicalpx1.png)

No one man founded the Exatai. ~ Ladran, Faron Historian
The wind rose in the night and laid our plans to waste. ~ Ming proverb
...like armies passing in the night, who return the next morning to find their homeland burned...

The north, apart from two exceptions, two small, and one great, was largely peaceful through this period.

The small exception was that of the Ritti. Not content with their previous conquests, the Evyni Empire continued their attack on the island nation. This was a mostly quick and fairly bloodless affair; the City of Gold was pitifully undergarrisoned, and the Ritti fleet was unable to prevent landings by the much-superior Evyni army. After it became apparent that resistance would be ineffectual at best, the city elders capitulated and joined the growing empire.

The other exception was that of the Ederru and the Stettin tribes. Though the Ederru were to launch a concerted effort to drive the Stettin off of their island, it quickly became obvious that even with their inherent naval superiority, they could not prevent the tribesmen from landing. Moreover, the Stettin were far too experienced with land warfare to be scared off by Ederru warriors. It quickly became obvious that if the war was to be won, either ingenious methods or brute force would have to be applied.

The third affair is one we shall come to much later.

The Evyni attack on Ritti was a great disappointment to another people. Acca had held designs on the archipelago, and was deep into planning with their newfound Trilui allies as to how best to attack when they were preempted by the northern empire. On the domestic front, the Autocracces decided to convert the nation to a new faith – that of the Satar. Though this made them none too popular with those who disliked the Satar, it did certainly give them a new ally, though whether this was to be beneficial or not would remain to be seen.

For the moment, anyway ,the Accans made do with the integration of their new conquests, and even seized one of the Ritti islands in an opportune moment. More importantly, the premature termination of the expedition meant that the empire had much more gold in its coffers than expected. Indeed, it was as though the symbol of prosperity triggered prosperity itself: the income of the state skyrocketed.

The Evyni, for their part, saw peace following the Ritti war for a while, though later on they were brought into the wars. Education became a major focus of the state as it was brought more in line with the Ytauzi belief system. Simultaneously, Asveydr, capital of the state, was beautified, and indeed was already becoming one of the greatest cities in the far north. All in all, the Evyni looked towards a bright future, continuing as one of the greatest states in the north.

Liang lay mostly quiescent during the period, and a royal marriage with the Shu ensured that neither country went to war – though this did free up Shu to conquer their neighbors to the north, Yan, while the Zairnate soldified their hold on the Duchy.

The last nation we turn to is a newly coalescing one. The Sarrukh were a collection of rather militaristic seafarers who lived in the far northern seas. Appearing on the scene quite suddenly, they were happy to act as middlemen in many a dispute, facilitating trade between nations that were officially enemies, like the Ederru and the Stettin, and in the process making all parties involved much the richer for it.

* * * * * * * * *

We shall return to the north and the middle; for the moment, we shall examine the south and east.

The Palmyrians found themselves again undergoing a rather peaceful period. The economy did not grow any further – it seemed to have reached its natural limit, and whenever the people attempted to cultivate new land they almost always found it too marginal to be of any lasting value. On the other hand, military reforms seemed to go quite well, and though the emperor’s new ships did not pan out quite as he might have desired, the army was much improved for the spending.

The Zyesh, for their part, signed an alliance with the quiet nation of Goral, both of them figuring that neither nation was likely to go on a wild genocidal rampage. The king also ordered an expedition to the northeastern seas, which went very successful, expanding the horizons of the already well-traveled Zyesh and establishing them as yet another player in the endless trading games that the region was so fond of. Indeed, as turmoil began to brew between the Trilui and their neighbors, the Zyesh were well placed to continue the trade between the new enemies...

The Nahari invested heavily in their economy, and with the influx of refugees, especially from the latest in the series of wars, they were well-placed to do this. Their formerly ruined islands were repopulated with refugees, though there were some raised eyebrows at exactly how cosmopolitan this Empire was getting. In the meantime, an expedition to Leun, while not discovering any new lands, did solidify the links between the states and better survey the coastline for trading ships.

Leun, for its part, saw its own expedition eastward to be quite successful, though naturally the contents of their report were not made available to other nations. On the other hand, in the known world they did continue rapidly expanding. Though peaceful, this expansion took a heavy toll on their forests, and mudslides and erosion became a major problem as a result. Fortunately these were lethal to the colonies, but they did prove something of a pain.

It was around this time that Farea, a colony of the Faron, was founded in this region. While still a fledgling, it had so many willing immigrants that it quickly surpassed many of its neighbors in size.

Treha would have had a fairly peaceful time of this, and for the most part it did. The ironworks were expanded, utilizing new ores found in the Stad Men region. But to a large degree, their affairs were tied up with those of the Opulensi.

This other nation found its own mostly peaceful period still largely dominated by war. Though some expansion did occur, the focus of the Opulensi king was military reform, chiefly based around the new philosophy of Daharai, which tended to emphasize the martial aspect of Indagahor, and thus showed the way to a new, spartan, military means of enlightenment.

In any case, matters came to a head when Undia was finally found. The Trehan secret city had served as a military base and a base for traders (of the Trehan merchant marine only) for a while now. Whatever it might have served as in the past, the Opulensi discovery of this city was followed quickly by the revelation that this was a privateer base, and namely, that it was the base largely responsible for the Opulensi problems with pirates in recent years. Indeed, the only thing that stopped the Opulensi from going to war immediately was a certain fear of the Trilui, and even that may soon not be enough. The south, it seems, is on the verge of war...

* * * * * * * * *

The rivalry between Gallat and Ferman had always been a source of friction in the north. Strangely, though, they had never quite come to blows. Always war had been averted, if only at the last minute.

But with the fall of the Seshweay, it was evident to both sides that war was coming rapidly. The last major power hostile to Gallat had been felled by its own rivals, and the greatest of the Maninist states was free to pursue whatever course it should so desire. The High Ward Ilunatar used this freedom to reform the military somewhat, and then, rapidly, to attack Ferman itself.

Raising an army of over seven thousand men, the High Ward was blessed to have a pair of young and already distinguished generals to lead the holy war against their southern neighbor, Asamin and Manago. Asamin was himself a churchman, well versed in the doctrines of the Faith; Manago was a much more conventional general, but no less beloved of his men.

But Ferman had not used their time idly. Expanding their fleet yet again, the Fermani were able to nearly match the Gallatene navy, and new fortifications had already been constructed on the Gallatene border, focused around a city called Hern. This new settlement was built entirely around defense, nestled in a crook between three hills, each of which sported a high tower; the walls were intended to be double, though the inner rampart was not quite completed when the war began.

More than anything else, however, Ferman had a stroke of luck from an unexpected quarter. The Evyni Empire, having already subdued Ritti and thus becoming the greatest nation of the western Kern Sea, had offered a treaty of friendship to Ferman, aimed, if only implicitly, at Gallat itself. Ferman, naturally, gladly accepted, and though the initial Gallatene attack came as a surprise, they were comforted in that aid would surely be coming.

When word of this arrived at Gallasa, the High Ward Ilunatar was said to have used the most impious of responses. But the deed had already been done, and Gallat’s armies were marching towards Ferman already. There could be no retracing the path.

Five thousand soldiers under Asamin were already en route to Senden, the nearest of Ferman’s major cities and the one with the most adherents to the Faith. Unfortunately, Hern lay square in his path, a rather unexpected obstacle, and the Gallatene advance looked to be stymied already. Asamin, however, was not about to let such a minor obstacle obstruct him; he feigned a siege and let the Fermani armies begin to rally to its defense, then quietly slipped away.

Supplied by Gallat’s navy at every step of the way, he was able to fairly fly across the Alsoli Peninsula. Ferman’s ships were powerless to stop them, trying as they were to carry out the simultaneous and contradictory instructions of harassing Gallat’s shipping and yet attempting to engage the enemy fleet; thus Senden was both unaware and unprepared for the Gallatene army that appeared on its doorstep.

With a minimal garrison, the Maninists in the city were able to open the gates, and fell upon their fellow citizens in a brutal massacre, leaving the city entirely claimed by the Maninists and Gallat.

Hern still lay behind Asamin, to be sure, but his supply lines were, for at least a little while, secure, and those of Ferman were conversely dangerously stretched. Taking full advantage of this, he detached a minor force of some three hundred men to raid eastwards, burning and pillaging, distracting the now frantic Fermani defense to an even greater degree than before.

At this moment, his fellow general Manago gathered the remaining troops of Gallat, Hasia, and Tarasat, and led this new army directly south from Hasia, int the north of Ferman. The city of Sern with its rather weak garrison was overrun quickly.

But Gallat, in its rush to win the war before Evyn could intervene, had underestimated the speed of that very intervention. Ayinse, the Evyni queen, was generally regarded as a weak and somewhat incapable regent for her young son, Shadyn. But she had responded to the challenge with skill, concluding a treaty of friendship with Acca and thus removing any threat to her flanks. The army of Evyn, four thousand strong, boarded their new fleet and sailed across the Kern Sea, landing just south of Sirasona and besieging the city.

The Fermani general at Hern was left with a difficult choice – should he try to march west and link with the Evyni to create a unified army, or march south and prevent Asamin from coming to his homeland’s aid, or simply march east and help the massively beleaguered defense of Ferman’s central lands?

Fatefully, he continued with the cautious course that Ferman had already decided, and leaving a strong garrison at Hern, retreated with the majority of his army eastward to destroy the raiders and restore some kind of order. His supply lines, he reasoned, would be in even worse shape should he attempt to march west, and his nation would do no good to their Evyni allies if destroyed.

On the other hand, the Fermani navy did sail towards Sirasona, aiming to link with the Evyni fleet; this would be the only way they could match the more numerous and better trained Gallatene ships. The latter, for their part, had attempted to seal up the Crene Sea, but this was far easier said than done in an era when ships had to be beached every night for resupply, and one could simply flee under cover of darkness.

On the other hand, the Fermani fleet had to sail for several days through hostile territory, unable to stop for food or even water; all the while Gallat’s flotilla pursued them zealously, with Asamin’s army covering their landward flank (he had been careful to firmly garrison Senden before his march). Thus, when Gallat confronted the fleets of the allied nations, it was a battered and exhausted enemy they faced.

The Battle of Sirasona was fought late in autumn (112 RM), under a cold gray sky. A storm had just passed through from the south, and the ground was muddy enough that the armies could not engage; if any decision was to be made, it would be on the waves. The Gallatene ships had weathered the storm in the port of Peren, whereas their opponents had had to make do with whatever shelter they could find among the salt flats of the peninsula; in more than one case an allied ship joined the battle late because it had been buried in the mud.

Thus the Gallatene ships pressed their advantage and rounded the cape, wheeling directly into the allied fleet; for their part the Fermani and Evyni tried to pin their foes against the shore, into crowded waters where their superior seamanship would not prove so potent. Alas, the attackers were able to outwit their opponents and broke through their center; the allied fleet retreated brokenly.

Around this time, Asamin ordered the attack, and though his army was not as well trained as their opponents, he managed to push them back anyway; the arrival of reinforcements detached from Manago’s force in the east effectively ended the battle. The Evyni forces were still able to withdraw in good order, and marched northwards, attempting to rally, but their enemies were in hot pursuit. Moreover, the next city, Gallasa, was well fortified enough that it could not be attacked effectively.

So the Evyni forces pressed on, avoiding the enemy capital, and eventually arriving at the northern straits of the Kern Sea; there they boarded their ships and were able to cross to the city of Adua before Gallat was able to stop them.

At this moment, Asamin decided it was probably better to let the Gallatene fleet pursue their enemies and prevent another invasion. Possibly the new allies in Taudo and Seadol would be able to distract the Evyni long enough. And in any case, Ferman had made good on the breathing space afforded them and recaptured Senden despite the garrison, razing it to the ground and massacring the inhabitants. The return southwards could not be delayed any longer.

Asamin had relatively few options. He could besiege Hern again, and attempt to reduce it with the Fermani armies breathing down his neck. He could try and bring their armies to battle – but why would they engage, when they had so much to lose and so little to gain? Or he could try to catch them by surprise. In the event, he decided to march directly east, link up with Manago, and march south; the shifting of the main front caught the Fermani off their guard.

With a united army, Gallat could at last make some real progress, but unfortunately there was some friction between the commanders. Asamin had grown convinced he was the greater of the two commanders regardless of their supposedly equal standing. Manago, for his part, felt the churchman was an overly pious, bombastic fool who had managed to lose Senden for the sake of defending a city that was not terribly threatened anyway.

Their army threatened to unravel when, quite abruptly indeed, Manago simply left the encampment with his part of the army, forming a flying column that raced through the countryside, devastating the land as he went. In truth, given his now heated rivalry with Asamin, there was no way he could have served under the other commander, and this was probably the best option that was left to them.

So the army split, and Manago raced through Ferman, greatly disrupting the spring planting even as Asamin plowed straight through to the capital of Jedim. Ferman tried its best to hold back the oncoming tide, but found themselves swamped. Now led by a charismatic general, Fessan the One-Eyed, they tried instead to harass the Gallatene forces, and making it cost them dearly for every inch of ground that they conquered.

Still, Gallat had soldiers to spare, and as spring trundled on to summer and then again autumn, Ferman found its harvest completely ruined, while Gallat was able to bring in shipments of grain from their homeland. Combined with a harsh winter, the siege of Jedim proceeded quickly, and by early 114 it had fallen completely. The supposedly impregnable city of Hern fell to Manago’s column by treachery, and by the year 115, Ferman was all but conquered, with only the city at Edrim holding out.

The mopping up after the war was to take another seven years, thanks largely to the determined resistance by Fessan, but after he was captured and decapitated, it fizzled. Much of the population fled the turmoil; east if they followed Alta; west and north if they were Maninist. By the end of the war, the country formerly known as Ferman was quite depopulated, and barren as well, as the advancing desert had begun to cover former vineyards and pastures.

While these events were taking place, the Evyni expeditionary force found itself in Seadol, abandoned by its fleet, and largely exposed to any kind of attack, by either land or sea. It is about this time that we find the first mentions of a young general, Eisu, who managed to rally the force, and led them from Adua to Seadol’s capital itself. Finding it completely devoid of major defensive walls, they overran it without much trouble, and set it to the torch (though it would be resettled later).

Instead of returning home, Eisu sent only the most demoralized of his troops southwards; with the rest he set about attempting to pacify Taudo. He had in fact largely succeeded in this endeavor by the time that the Queen Regent called him back to witness the coronation of Shadyn as Thorsrdyn.

At this point, the Evyni Empire was in no shape to do battle, and neither was Gallat – the Maninist nation sent out several peace overtures to Shadyn. Though young and undoubtedly reckless, he possessed some wisdom beyond his years, and was probably heavily pressured by his still influential mother anyway. He agreed to a peace that allowed both nations to keep the gains they had made.

In theory, the treaty was supposed to ensure that both nations could continue their separate ways peacefully. In practice... there was enough water between the two nations that perhaps the theory might even hold true.

* * * * * * * * *

Third-Gaci was the youngest son of his father, a man more interested in theological debate than in true rulership. Indeed, there was little sign that he would ever have to come to power. Yet when his father died an old man, somehow his older siblings had both fallen ill and died, a year before and three months before, respectively. The chiefs of Moti had rejoiced then, for it was a weaker ruler that was coming to the throne, and surely he could be manipulated into whatever they should so desire.

But the world has a habit of mocking our greatest desires, and suddenly a messenger from the mighty Xetares, third Redeemer of the Satar Exatai arrived in the court of Gaci – surrender the greater part of his lands, or perish. No ruler could acquiesce to that demand and remain a ruler for long. And so Third-Gaci refused, and studied the books of war, and listened to his nobles, and played them off each other, and suddenly from this rather small, unimpressive theologian, a brilliant star of leadership emerged, a man with perhaps the mettle to challenge the Satar.

The first great test, of course, were those that had been left behind. After Atraxes the Great’s (for he had already earned that moniker) southern campaign, the River Yensai had been left in shambles. Krato’s attempts to reestablish control over the northern half of the river had ended up only increasing the anarchy that was spreading through the land, and in this state the new Algoli Exatai had found a promising conquest. Aligned with the Satar as they were, they were poised directly to Moti’s south, and threatened to plunge a dagger directly at the center of the world itself.

So Gaci invoked the ancient pact with Krato, and Krato brought in its own soldiers, men from every land – over sixty thousand all told. Even the Holy Church sent forces, carrying the most sacred relics of Iralliam before them. As Gaci was to march down the river, War Chiefs Iltu and Bujokl were to march north, and thus they would both purge the land of any of the cavalry that were there, and also secure the best crossings. At the same time, Gaci sent his War Chief Kono to the north, to face the inevitable Satar move against Bisria.

It was a sound plan, but difficult to execute. The Algoli were highly mobile, and devious as well, making them most difficult to pin down. On the other hand, the allies were numerous, and though all three followed rather different tactical systems that were difficult to integrate, when they eventually did Gaci used them brilliantly, and was able to largely drive back the Algoli from the eastern side of the river. Lumada, their only real base, was secured without difficulty, for steppe warriors do not make good garrisons.

The problem that confronted them now, however, was much more daunting. The west bank of the Yensai was much closer to the Algoli homeland, and any attacks there would be more difficult to sustain. While they might capture the cities, these were not crucial to the survival of the Exatai, and indeed would put more of a strain on the allies to garrison. Gaci knew, however, that his own forces were numerous, and he could afford many garrisons; moreover, the allied army was much more suited to cities than to the open plain.

So an expedition was mounted for Lotumbo, and the only thing easier than the march was the capture of the city; barely any resistance was offered. By now, however, Algoli harassment of the supply lines was becoming serious, particularly since the supplies for the Krato force had been rather lacking in the first place. And they were still nowhere even near the much greater threat of the Satar – an attack on Magha would have to be made through the most desperate of conditions.

Fortunately, or rather unfortunately as it were, at this point, Gaci had gotten word of the fortunes of his eastern army.

Gaci had seen through the ploy of the Satar, and when their large army, over thirty thousand strong, came roaring down into the north of the country, all the Moti knew it for a ruse. They bled it as best they could, with the militia of the borderlands being raised in all their ferocity to blunt the attack; when Kirost was taken it was not unexpected, and the city had been mostly emptied of its people anyway.

Kono had been tasked instead to march to the northeast, to the friendly city of Gyza, which though it had pledged aid to the Satar had in secret desperately pled for assistance from the Moti and Trilui. The Trilui, for their part, were nowhere to be found (having not yet been informed of the scale of this conflagration), but the Moti had made good on their promise, and arrived at the city with more than four thousand men.

Yet when the enemy came it was clear all their preparations had been in vain; Xetares’ army numbered at nearly fifteen thousand, more than twice what the allies could bring to bear, and unlike theirs his army was well-supplied, extraordinarily mobile, and battle-hardened. Some two hundred men were hand-picked to throw themselves in a suicide mission against the Satar to delay them as long as possible; five hundred of the Gyzan militia guarded their families as they fled to the far-off hills in a now familiar maneuver to the many-times sacked city; the rest of the army retreated. Gyza was leveled, an ominous warning to future rivals of the Satar.

Kono’s army had fled south to the Had, the Satar host hot on their heels, and had not yet made it to Bisria when another force appeared from downriver, marching faster than anyone would have believed. Had the Satar crafted some devious ploy and stolen a march?

To their great surprise, the banners bore not the wolf of the Satar, but a flower instead. For these were the men of Faeoria Aramsayafa, one of the great families of Faron. They explained that Faron had not joined the war against the Satar – the Faeoria Council had voted down that proposal, if narrowly – but they could not stomach watching the Exatai swallow its smaller neighbors without a fight. Kono apparently neglected to point out that fighting was exactly what he was doing, presumably grateful for the extra men.

But it soon became clear that the extra men were not enough, either. With some eight thousand soldiers at his disposal, Kono was still outnumbered nearly two to one, and his soldiers were more likely to break and run when faced with the Satar foe than fight. So he left large garrisons in Bisria and Het, and withdrew the greater part of his army to try and harass the enemy as they advanced.

By this time, Xetares had already advanced to the Had. There he arrived outside the ancient city of Minar, capital of Serat. A rather decrepit city for all its majestic past, he nevertheless offered the king a full princedom in the Exatai should he submit – with his implied destruction should he refuse. Naturally he accepted, and his own forces now joined those of the Satar, for what that was worth (not particularly much, as it would later turn out).

Xetares advanced to Bisria and put it under siege, and Kono hunkered down in the mountain passes, fearing the worst; it seemed like the full fury of the Satar might bear down upon him, and for all his careful preparations, nothing in the world could have overcome the nearly four to one disadvantage he now found himself facing. It was then that he called for aid from Gaci, and the Chief of Chiefs, having met only success on his side of the mountains, was impelled to cross them and hopefully turn the tide on the other side, possibly with the aid of the Kratoan army.

By the time Gaci’s vanguard had made it to the East, however, they found the valley mysteriously devoid of Satar troops. Fearing some kind of trap, he refused to advance at first, but it soon became apparent that Xetares, along with the entirety of his army, had vanished. Only a small force of Serati slave soldiers remained, and these were pushed back by the Moti soldiers with some ease. The siege of Bisria was ended, and though the countryside was much devastated, even Kirost was regained.

Gaci was somewhat surprised at his own luck, but soon came to the conclusion that whatever had drawn away the Satar armies, it might not remain indefinitely. If this was his one window of opportunity, he had to take it as best he could.

So began the march on Magha.

The dilemma of the supply lines still haunted Moti and Krato alike, and Gaci had no desire to attempt to face the Algoli on their home soil. He left several tens of thousands of Kratoan forces to beat back any attempts to cross the Yensai that might come, and instead opted for a completely different route. The Moti were well acquainted with the Kothai Mountains, and it was time they used this knowledge.

There are four great passes through the Kothai Range. One, at Yashidim, closely guarded by the Satar. One, at Gaci, too far from Magha to be of any use. The other two were much further to the east, all but useless in this case. But there is another pass, much more minor, that also rises near Gaci and falls at the headwaters of the Sesh. It was this middle route that Gaci took, threading his army through the mountain ranges, shielded by the peaks against the depredations of the Algoli horde and any ambushes the Satar might have laid.

Initially there was almost no resistance. Able to carry out raids at their leisure, the Moti made feints towards Nikros to pin that garrison down. At the same time, many of the estates of the Satar Princes were burned. But these were, of course, only secondary targets; Magha was their true aim, and so they marched straight north, through the fierce deserts that the Bahrai had called their home. The garrison at Yashidim was able to carry out many raids on his exposed left flank, but he had expected that and was able to counter them.

Then, almost so quickly that it surprised the allies, they arrived on the south bank of the Sesh, facing the great city of Magha. Caught between two rivers, the city had been well sited. The middle branch of the Sesh tumbles abruptly downwards in cataracts, and by the time it reaches Magha it is well beneath the level of the desert; a great red-walled canyon is formed. In these walls are the famous monasteries of Taleldil, as foreboding as any fortress. The northern river was rather less of a barrier, but as the Moti were on the other side, this made little difference. The cities walls loomed high above the desert flats, and at the very joining of the two rivers a massive citadel carved in the shape of an ark, already legendary for its strength and size, cut into the canyon.

The Sapphire City seemed nigh-on impregnable, even with the minor garrison that it had been given. But Gaci had known this might be the case, and did not intend to sack it; instead he contented himself with sealing it off, as he managed to cross the Sesh and camp between the rivers. Then, he proceeded to ransack the countryside, dealing much damage to the land that was the heartland of the Satar themselves, though of course the noble families and their possessions had been brought inside the walls of Magha.

And so he settled down for a long siege, and the men of the city did so as well, for they knew that help would be long in coming. For Xetares had not gone to head off some invasion, no. The Satar armies were gone for one reason only.

Xetares had set out to conquer the world.

* * * * * * * * *

Xetares’ invasion of Faron cannot have come as a surprise. Perhaps some in the Faeoria Council wouldn’t have thought it would come so soon – the Satar were already fighting two wars against some of the greatest powers in the world, why should they take on a third? – but certainly they knew it was coming. And truth be told, the invasion was even less surprising to those few family leaders who knew of this new Redeemer. Brash, brutal, and egotistical to a fault, it was very much in his character to try and unite the two great rivers under a single banner.

But he had tarried in the west for some eight years, plenty of time for the Faron to recuperate and rebuild from their devastating war against the Hu’ut. Massive new fortifications were constructed, and the population was growing without stop – so much so that the Faeoria gave money to emigrants willing to build a new colony far to the east.

Faron itself found this short period to be a most prosperous time. Grain harvests were rising, and surpluses were such that even with the increased population exports could also increase. This, of course, much benefitted their neighbors, who were most eager to feed their own populace... At the same time, the Faeoria had taken a liking to the patronization of certain philosophers, and around this period, the first prototypical schools were being set up.

And Hu’ut, too, was undergoing a period of renewal during the period. Under the brilliant administration of Shafay Fetosa, the former slave empire made a smooth transition into a freedman economy; the family system of Faron was impossible to implement, but a reasonable facsimile based on village and city representatives was established.

And while there were of course numerous tensions underneath the surface – resentment from former slaveowners and enslaved alike, ethnic clashes, religious rivalries – these were not great enough to destroy the new state that was being built. Instead the nation was emerging more united than its predecessor ever could have been, and if left undisturbed, might even grow to become greater than its parent nation to the north, though alternatively it might lapse into something all too similar to slavery, if under a different name.

But all this speculation is meaningless for the moment, because as we all know, it was not left undisturbed. Instead, the Satar appeared over the horizon; their army led by ferocious general by the name of Aphas. Massive and a little unwieldy, this force plowed down the Had River, taking Tynet with ease and besieging Salgaron. The Faron began their counterattack, but were driven back at Salgaron, and failing to break the siege were forced to start over.

Then it suddenly became evident that this had all been a massive diversion. The Faronun armies received word that Dema, of all places, was under heavy Satar assault, and was pleading for assistance. It seemed as though Xetares had chosen a more northerly route. So a large force was dispatched to deal with the Satar there, and within a week they arrived at the northern city, only to find it more or less intact. The enemy had moved on.

Of course the passes had been alerted that the enemy was arriving from the north, and they were heavily garrisoned and fortified. Shafay led his soldiers eagerly towards the pass; it seemed that the Satar might be headed there, and if he could catch Xetares between the fortifications and his own troops, denying the Satar any maneuverability at all, then they could perhaps win the decisive victory of the war. Yet when he arrived there, the enemy was still nowhere to be found.

Indeed, Xetares had maneuvered all the way around Helsia, through the Faron territory, swiftly descending on the end of the peninsula that belonged to the Trilui. The march to Trovin took less than a day, with the entirely horsed Satar army easily outpacing even the messengers of the Trilui army; they caught the capital entirely by surprise, crashed through the gates, and burned it to the ground.

It was the greatest loss the Trilui had ever suffered. For all time, their capital had sat, impregnable by virtue of the Faron state that guarded it. The symbiosis of the free, land-based state to the west and the maritime, commercial state to the east had lasted for more than a thousand years. But the landward shield had failed, an enemy had slipped through the cracks. The largest, most populous, and perhaps most magnificent city in the world was ruined.

Trovin had just begun to enter a new period of growth and prosperity in this time. The city swelled past its own walls; the temples had been refurbished. A great library had been raised in recent times by the Emperors, full of all knowledge in the world, and they were starting schools of philosophy much akin to the Faron practices. And now it was all gone, swept away with the invading horde. At a stroke, the Satar had decapitated their rival empire.

For the Trilui, more than most empires, were focused around a very small area; their reach might extend far, but the beating heart of the empire was always in Trovin. The Emperor himself had been slain in the sack; now generals and governors alike could tear apart the empire at will. Perhaps order could be restored if a monarch both strong and brilliant were to ascend to the throne, but even then the chances looked slim.

As if to compound this fact, an earthquake of startling fury rocked the Kainoan Sea in 212; its center near enough Trovin as made no difference. What minimal rebuilding efforts had started after the Satar invasion were shook into rubble; it was as though the gods themselves were mocking the efforts of mortals to recuperate.

With these terrible omens, the death-knell of the Empire seemed to sound. The Nahsjad nomads to the north had finally united under the Maninist Sira tribe; this new threat saw the fall of the Trilui and decided to take full advantage, pressing forward into the northern colonies of the old empire. Pirates took full advantage of the sudden loss of authority, and what had been so briefly a Pax Trilui fell again into chaos; shipping declined massively. An extraordinarily loyal contingent in the Jania area prevented its rebellion, but as the empire began to come apart at the seams, there were some hints that perhaps even that most faithful area might break away for its own survival.

As an abortive assault into the Sesh Delta was abandoned before it could do much damage, the Hanakahi broke their alliance with the Trilui and took revenge for their former mother culture of the Hamakua, uniting this ancient region in open rebellion against the Trilui; only Sivi remained in their hands.

But the damage wrought there was still but part of Xetares’ plan. He continued westwards, back into the Faron lands, and fell upon the city of Faron itself. However, this time he had overestimated himself. Dema had not thought to send word to Trovin that the Satar were coming, for none had known that. But Trovin was a busy port, and much of the merchant fleet escaped, with the native Faronun merchants bearing word of its sack back to Faron. Heavily fortified and massively garrisoned, this city could not be taken by surprise.

Still, Xetares would not be outdone, and proclaimed that he would subdue the city even should it take ten years.

Aphas, for his part, finally managed to take the city of Salgaron, and put it to the torch. At this point, he calculated the Faron were too divided to make any sort of dedicated effort against him, so he launched an attack against Subal, the city that had so often served as a battleground between Hu’ut and Faron. Now it seemed ripe for the taking, and if this could be done, then Aphas could link up with the Redeemer and the Satar might be able to establish permanent control in this part of the world.

But Shafay still had control of the situation, and though he felt himself too weak to challenge Xetares, Aphas’ army was much less mobile. The Satar general was of course still convinced of his own invulnerability. Yet the Faronun felt that they could stand up to their enemies in a one on one battle, so long as they were able to keep the Satar cavalry advantage to a minimum. So Shafay marched down from the mountain passes on Subal, and his ships sent word to the Hu’ut generals, who marched north and waited to link up with him.

On the other hand, even with the newly recruited Hu’ut armies, the Faronun could only bring some fifteen thousand to bear; the Satar army was over twenty thousand strong. Shafay faced uphill odds; his only hope was to somehow take the Satar army off-guard. Quickly it became evident that this would be difficult. Brash as he was, Aphas was an experienced general, and the Satar army was surrounded by a cloud of scouts and outriders.

Aphas’ soon received word of the Faronun force moving towards him. With no small amount of glee, he left a large force to cover the city, and sent the rest of his army directly at the enemy. He arrived to find a fairly small enemy – less than he had been led to believe, arrayed on the forward slope of a wooded hill. Annoyed, for he knew the trees would break his arrow fire, he nonetheless ordered his forces forward. The enemy was outnumbered by such a margin that he needn’t worry.

The woods were dewy, and slick from a recent storm. As the Satar infantry charged uphill, urged on by their cavalry, it suddenly became evident that the Faronun were expecting aid, and sure enough, another line of infantry emerged from their hiding place behind the crest of the hill, surging down the slope. As their horns rang out, another set called from behind the Satar – those of the Hu’ut army, and Aphas knew instantly that he had walked into a trap.

Though many a lesser general would have been hopelessly ensnared, the Prince was able to keep a tight rein on his troops. Sending his cavalry at the Hu’ut army to harass them and delay their arrival as long as possible, he pushed onwards with his infantry towards the crest of the hill, driving the Faronun back through sheer weight of numbers. Shafay battled back by sending what limited cavalry he had around the Satar left, and this worked at least initially.

Shafay then pushed to link with the Hu’ut forces to the south, but Aphas was able to counter every move that he made; by nightfall still no decision had been reached.

The next day the fighting resumed, and this time it went decisively in favor of the Satar armies. Shafay, however, was able to withdraw his forces in good order, a determined stand by the rearguard preventing a devastating pursual by the Satar cavalry.

Indeed, Shafay made his way to the Had, thinking to threaten the Satar armies’ supply lines, but it became evident that the Satar had somehow contrived a combination of massive provisions and living off the land which ensured that even Faronun possession of the Had couldn’t starve them. At the same time, Aphas did not seem to be budging from his siege of Subal, and so Shafay made the logical move of securing the Had again.

By this time, Xetares had received word that his subordinate had abandoned the Had to besiege Subal. At another time, he might have been infuriated at Aphas’ brash attack, but Xetares liked eagerness and in any case realized he could use the extra troops. Summoning nearly half of Aphas’ army, he prepared to end the siege of Faron by smashing through the walls.

The Satar had brought Seshweay engineers along with them; meanwhile the Faron had their exiled brethren designing the defenses. The most ingenious devices of the world were arrayed on either side of the lines: catapults, battering rams, and all their ilk, finely machined and readied for war. The ramparts of Faron had been built up to a startling level, higher than anything except perhaps the walls of Magha, and full of numerous traps for the Satar cavalry.

At first, Xetares contemplated somehow blocking off the harbor. But it quickly became evident that it was far too wide to erect any kind of boom, and he did not quite have enough manpower to somehow build a mole to threaten the ships. Therefore any hope of starving out the enemy was extinguished: Faron would have to be taken by assault.

Heavy bombardment by both bow and catapult proceeded, with Xetares making every effort to clear the walls of defenders. But the Faron responded with catapults of their own, hidden in niches of the walls that were impossible to hit; the walls of the city were far too strong to batter down by thrown stones, but the catapults of the Satar were sitting ducks. Angered, Xetares ordered his soldiers forward to try and sap the walls, but an ingenious device of unknown nature pumped smoke into the tunnels of the sappers and drove them back, coughing, under a flight of arrows.

Seeing both his initial attempts fail, the First Prince ordered his rams forward to try and take the gates by storm. Massive stones and arrows pelted them, but the Satar covered their ram, and resumed the assault, and at the same time launched a general assault with ladders on the walls. The casualties were horrific, but the horde began to make headway and enter the city. At long last, the gates were breached and the Satar horde coursed into Faron, burning, pillaging, and ruining everything in sight.

The sack of Faron saw the destruction of one of the most beautiful and one of the largest cities in the world, and the sudden extinguishing of the most prominent intellectual tradition of the age. Certainly, Faron was not entirely centralized, and many, if not most, of the philosophers, playwrights, and artists escaped. But many of them were slain, and many of their greatest works were present in the city when they were hauled off to join the Satar baggage train, presumably to be used in the beautification of faraway Magha.

Even for those that remained, the city had often been a focal point of learning and inspiration. Many had produced their greatest works there, and many learned that their magnum opuses were carried away to furnish the halls of a zealous king – a terribly demoralizing blow.

The sheer human tragedy of it all surely tugged at people’s minds as well. Trovin and Faron had together been home to hundreds of thousands, and all these had perished in the burnings of their cities. Terrifying as they were, they incited the city of Subal to capitulate without even fighting to the Satar king as he moved westwards. It looked as though the Faronun civilization would be extinguished; the greatest culture of the world.

Yet Xetares could not press his advantage, for he received a most desperate message from the Sesh. Though Magha remained invulnerable to any probes or assaults that had been launched on it, the countryside around it had not been so fortunate. The garrison at Nikros in particular had been deeply weakened by the desperate effort by Isharia, High Oracle and governess of the Sesh in Xetares’ absence, to defend the city of Magha. Thus the lesser city had fallen, and with that the gates to the Sesh were open.

Possibly the situation could have been completely averted had Xetares broken off the siege of Faron earlier, but his camp had been so remote that the dispatches did not arrive until they were much too late to make much of a difference. Magha remained firm against the enemy, but everywhere else was falling. Tisatar was an easy conquest. On the other hand, Isharia had a strange knack for getting even subject populations to like her, and her surprisingly fair rule at home had endeared the population to her. Thus, despite everything, the Seshweay population somehow remained loyal.

The war had been won in Faron, at the cost of his homeland. But Xetares was not to be discouraged; he still had the greatest army in the world, and he was fully confident that should he catch the enemy in battle, he would utterly lay waste to them. So he left strong garrisons in Faron, and with twenty thousand men set out to retake his homeland.

Racing over the Senet Desert, galloping by the Had, not even pausing in Bisria, the Redeemer gave his soldiers no rest, and pushed them ever onwards, determined to catch the allied armies before they could flee home. As it happened, they had little intention of doing that. Third-Gaci realized that with his army occupying most of the Sesh, and being forty-five thousand strong, he would never find a more opportune time to fight the Satar.

Xetares’ army forded the Sesh under cover of darkness, slipping past the guards that Third-Gaci had placed, and thus it was on a fateful day in the year 125 by the Satar calendar that the two armies met.

Third-Gaci and his allies had deployed in a deep formation, but were still so numerous that they were easily able to match the length of their foe’s line. He placed himself at the head of the right flank under his best troops; War-Chief Kono led the left flank. In the middle were the vast host of Kratoan soldiers, led by their War-Chief Iltu (Bujokl had been struck down by a rather nasty disease earlier in the campaign), and though he had no illusions about their quality, their numbers were enough to make up for it.

Xetares knew his enemy’s deployment from his scouts, and shifted his forces to match it. He himself led the left flank, intending to attack and kill Third-Gaci in battle himself. His general Aphas would lead the middle, intending to cut through the middle of the Kratoan line. The left he stuffed with more of his cavalry, but the leader was a name forgotten to history. His was a daring plan: after he slew the Moti Chief of Chiefs, he would be able to break their right entirely; he could thus plunge into the flank of the Kratoan mass even as Aphas cut into it, and at least half the allied army would be wiped out.

The day was hot and muggy, with a hint of a storm in the air.

Elephants thundered towards the Satar right, fearsome beasts, well armed and armored. Steppe cavalry, as hardened as they were, could not easily withstand this menace. Their horses were frightened to the point of nearly fleeing themselves by the smell of the beasts, and though Xetares had made n effort to acclimatize them, he had mostly focused on his own noble cavalry corps. The steppe cavalry had no such training, and by nature fell back, reverting to the tried and true tactic of harassing their opponents with showers of arrows; the Moti raised their shields and plowed onwards.

The center was an even more ambiguous affair, for Aphas charged straight into the heart of the enemy, laying waste wherever he went. The sight of the Satar in their death-masks was too much for many a Kratoan infantryman to bear, and they began to come dangerously close to breaking, when Iltu rallied his men. The center of the allied armies began to bow out under the pressure of the Satar advance, and it soon became evident that this was by design: the allies planned to envelop the enemy, to deny him the space to maneuver, and hopefully then crush him.

This was, of course, entirely contingent on the battle for the allied right. Xetares charged into battle as expected, but before him were the Satar’s own elephant corps, and around him were a personal guard of one hundred Argai, elite warriors who had dedicated their entire lives to combat, and were superb at any form of it. These forces thundered into a crack line of Bisrian infantry, who formed a phalanx of pikes that seemed nearly impregnable. But Xetares ordered forward his elephants again, who broke the infantry line only to clash with their Moti brethren.

As the great beasts came together in their titanic struggle, the mere mortals struggled in the dust around them. Xetares was untouchable, thanks to his bodyguard; anyone who dared to come near him was quickly dispatched. Third-Gaci quickly realized this, and ordered part of his elephant corps (for he had many more than the Satar horde) to break off and attack the Argai with arrow and spear. Though the Argai were able to eventually wound and panic many of the elephants, they still suffered large casualties in doing so.

On the allied left, Kono ordered his troops to halt, mystifying the Satar, who continued to harass them. Suddenly they broke and ran, and the steppe cavalry began, cautiously, to move forwards; at a signal the allies turned and charged back at the enemy. At this second elephant charge, the Satar again gave way, but this time the Moti allowed them no breathing space, and followed hard on their heels. At the same time, soldiers from the Church of Iralliam swept around the enemy flank and began the envelopment on their side.

We turn then to the battle on the Satar left, where Xetares continued his attack, trying with all his might to find Third-Gaci. The Chief-of-Chiefs avoided the confrontation as best he could, knowing that he could not best Xetares in a melee. But this, if prolonged, could seriously dishearten his soldiers, and he did not intend it to end that way.

At this point, the Satar elephant corps fled the field entirely, but the allied elephants, too, were beginning to panic. All could be lost, for Third-Gaci knew his elephant screen was all that protected him from the near-certain death that would come should the Argai attack him. So he detached thousands of men from his center and sent them under cover further to his right, in the reeds of the riverbank. At the same time he began to pull his own soldiers back.

Xetares took the bait and plunged forward, but at the last possible moment noticed the forces in the marshland and turned to destroy them. Third-Gaci had not intended this, but realized that it worked all the same; with Xetares’ attention diverted, he sent more men forward to push the Satar into the mud of the river, literally bogging them down; he himself relocated to the center of the line, where one of his elephants dealt Aphas a shattering blow, killing him instantly.

With this, the center of the Satar line began to give way, and their right was already being rolled up by the advancing Moti troops. Suddenly the battlefield became a death-trap: though many of the Satar troops were able to escape northwards, more than half were slaughtered as they were pushed into the swirling Sesh, which had through the day grown more strident in its flow, and was beginning to swell over the banks – this due to the storm, which was advancing northwards over the land and had fallen first on the southern parts of the river.

It was thus in the rain and flooding that the Battle of the Reeds was concluded. The Argai, though slaying many tens of men for each of their own number, perished to a man. To their credit, Xetares did not perish until every one of them was slain; he himself fought like a madman, and it was said that only arrows brought him down, his heavily bejeweled body lost forever in the rising waters, floating downstream and into the north.

The Satar army had disintegrated. With it, the empire that the Satar had built so painstakingly fell to pieces. The Had was seized almost entirely by the Hu’ut, the Faronun recovered their capital (though a small garrison at Subal still held out), and the Sesh was halfway in the hands of the Moti – though the other half remained under the rule of High Oracle Isharia. Magha, on the other hand, remained firm in its resistance -- its granaries large, and its fortification still regarded as impregnable. But though the city would live on, the Exatai was shattered into many pieces.

In truth, the Satar had not been completely destroyed. Like any steppe tribe, they seemingly could not be exterminated, and so they fled northwards. Strangely, though, they were to rally around the last figure of command left – the daughter of Xephaion, High Oracle, Ishalia. Whether she would be able to lead them to some other future remained to be seen, for the Satar were unsure of how to deal with this: a woman in a position of power!

And thus we arrive at the end of this tumultuous period; all sides involved were now much the poorer for men and treasure. Krato had seen many tens of thousands of its men die in the expeditions northwards, not of any particular battle so much as hunger and disease. Moti had seen Bisria utterly ravaged, and though they had conquered much of the Sesh, they had lost much in return, and still the Delta and Magha held out against them. The Algoli Exatai, nearly forgotten by all its neighbors, were now fighting a desperate struggle against another barbarian tribe. The Trilui had lost their capital and seemed set to lose their empire. And even the Faron had their countryside devastated and much of their hard work rebuilding the Hu’ut nation now wasted.

Even the victors were hardly left much time to savor their conquests. Krato began to fracture the moment the battle had been fought. The Duroc, possibly organized by some outside force, had finally risen, claiming some sort of grievance or other (probably true, as they had been largely surpassed in social standing by the Uggor), and there were some hints that the easternmost parts of the empire might breakaway. It was not a terribly strong rebellion, but it would be difficult to fight.

The Moti were stuck with a larger empire than even they had dreamed possible, but should they hold onto it – no guarantee, for it was doubtful that they could make themselves better liked than the Satar had – they would face a very difficult time integrating it.

But the victors could count themselves lucky in one thing. They had emerged from this great battle and survived.

NPC Diplomacy

A regal and richly dressed envoy arrives in the western lands of the Algoli Exatai, and is taken before the chief himself. Bowing low before his host, he announces that he is from a great and mighty empire: that of the Dulama. Conqueror of many lands, the Emperor would be most pleased to receive the allegiance of the Algoli, whom he would accept as a vassal to guard his eastern borders, so that in return he could offer them assistance as their lord and master.

Likewise, an envoy arrives in similar fashion in the realm of the Krato, saying that he has traveled for many leagues down the Yensai. He is from the Empire of the Dulama, a nation of many great warriors. They have heard of the realm of Krato, and for now are willing to leave them be, should they promise never to expand up the Yensai into the lands the Emperor regards as rightfully his.

Maps:

http://img16.imageshack.us/img16/9711/year10political.th.png (http://img16.imageshack.us/my.php?image=year10political.png)
Political Map.

http://img9.imageshack.us/img9/571/year10cities.th.png (http://img9.imageshack.us/my.php?image=year10cities.png)
City Map.

OOC:

A reminder to everyone that if some of your cities lack names on the city map, you should name them. Otherwise, I will end up doing it, and not only are my names pretty terrible when I have to come up with a whole slew of them (see the nations to the east of Opulensi if you don’t believe me), but I will also probably be somewhat annoyed. That also goes for place names, though it’s less crucial. I prefer a list of names to pick from, so I can take the best-sounding ones. Well, the ones that sound best to me.

A general comment – if you think you can squeeze a second campaign out of a turn, feel free. This was supposed to be a fifty year turn, enough for at least three campaigns, but all the participants in the Satar war detailed only one, so I cut the turn length considerably. And made the one campaign the decisive one, fancy that.

Sorry that the cultural bits of the update got shafted. I’m actually starting to prefer writing them over the wars, but it’s rather necessary to give blow-by blow accounts of the war, simply because they deal with the fates of player nations in a very immediate fashion.

If it’s not hilariously obvious, I didn’t do stats yet, or story bonuses. I will do these when I feel like it. The next update will probably be in May, in all honesty, so I can’t see what a couple day’s delay will do.

Uh oh... Need to revise something. Just a moment.

Revised. This update was a real pain. I hope you enjoy.

What an excellent update, NK.

OOC, I congratulate Krato on a well orchestrated backstab, and Moti on a well orchestrated attack.

In character, the High Oracle Ishalia invites the great Princes of the Moti to speak with her on terms of peace. Having proved themselves the stronger and slain the Redeemer, the Moti are victors by right.

We owe the Moti our fealty, and our respect.

Um.

Okay, I'll find the time to read all of this a bit later today. In the meantime, I should note that this is the second time in this NES that I won and overwhelmingly at that without expecting to or preparing for it. Should I throw my favourite ring out into the ocean or something now?

Anyway, I guess I'll pretty much have to build that world empire after all. *sigh*

:p

Should I throw my favourite ring out into the ocean or something now?
Dunno how many people are going to get the Polykrates joke dude. I liked it tho. :lol:

Awesome Update!

You back stabbing Thlayli

That was awesome, thank you North King.

What an excellent update, NK.

OOC, I congratulate Krato on a well orchestrated backstab, and Moti on a well orchestrated attack.

In character, the High Oracle Ishalia invites the great Princes of the Moti to speak with her on terms of peace. Having proved themselves the stronger and slain the Redeemer, the Moti are victors by right.

We owe the Moti our fealty, and our respect.

OOC: Most of the credit should just go to das a Kal. They were the brain behind my muscle. ;) However, I can't help but feel a little pride knowing that I had helped defeat the greatest army in the world.

I'm going to wait for stats before conducting diplomacy. Krato is probably half-dead now. :sad:

Yes...apparently I should have realized that raising massive blobs of militia and using them outside of your borders frequently is a good tactic.

I'll just have to raise my manpower and throw it at my nearest enemy next time. :rolleyes:

You back stabbing Thlayli

Nothing personal.

Again, I think you're reading too much into "militia". It does not refer to "militia" in the conventional sense of the word, simply levies. I'll change it to avoid further confusion.

I'm just at odds with the traditional interpretation of militia, or levies, as "people that don't fight war for a living that you use in times of greatest need." Typically in a historical context they don't wage offensive campaigns very well, unless augmented by a major (read: larger) force of professionals.

Militia and national levies and feudal levies are all very different from each other; also, the last two are definitely not just called upon at times of greatest need and not supposed to be outnumbered by professionals in order to be useful (the standard practice is to have a small-to-medium nucleus of professionals augmented by hordes of levied peasants doing assorted peasant things like taking fire, overwhelming enemy with numbers, undermining walls and so on, if I recall correctly).

Anyway, their quality can vary widely depending on exact levying practice and military tradition. 16th century Russian "battle peasants" were pretty awesome, I am told (for peasants, ofcourse), and implicitly so were the Chinese military settlers.

Well, we certainly aren't looking at feudal levies, and in the classical period, unless you have a very organized levy system, professionals and mercenaries did the bulk of the fighting.

I'm not really taking offense to Moti's military, as much as Krato, who basically slapped 50,000 peasants in the field and called them an army. :p And I'm not disputing the outcome of the update either, just trying to reform the practice by which ridiculously huge levy armies are raised without consequence, and professional troops are prohibitively expensive (for "normal" states) to raise in the thousands.

Who says it was without consequence, and yes, the armies as currently understood are too expensive. I will do my best to rectify this, but right now it scarcely matters because I can't update this for another month.

we certainly aren't looking at feudal levies

Actually, I could totally raise a feudal levy if I want. I essentially enserfed (technically "enslaved", but it's much more like serfdom in this case - I could elaborate on that if you want) the Bisrians in familial lands, and though I don't think I actually had any of them mobilised, I probably could have done that at least in the Elephant Family territories if I wanted. Don't think I did that, though. Shame.

in the classical period, unless you have a very organized levy system, professionals and mercenaries did the bulk of the fighting.

Depends on what country and period you are talking about. Middle Dynasty Egypt was pretty much all levies all the time, if I recall correctly. The Chinese certainly loved their levies, though not as much in pre-imperial period I guess. The Greeks and the Romans used militias or tried to do so for as long as it was remotely practicable, though, again, militias and levies are very very different.

as much as Krato, who basically slapped 50,000 peasants in the field and called them an army.

Fun fact: as far as the godlikes are concerned, the word "Krato" is synonymous with "spare arrow fodder". :p

Quite how many men had the Satari engage war with?!!?

Well, we certainly aren't looking at feudal levies, and in the classical period, unless you have a very organized levy system, professionals and mercenaries did the bulk of the fighting.

I'm not really taking offense to Moti's military, as much as Krato, who basically slapped 50,000 peasants in the field and called them an army. :p And I'm not disputing the outcome of the update either, just trying to reform the practice by which ridiculously huge levy armies are raised without consequence, and professional troops are prohibitively expensive (for "normal" states) to raise in the thousands.

Like NK said, there probably will be consequences. Heck, there are already some if you pay close attention. The Duroc are breaking up the middle of my country, and I'm probably really lacking money now. We'll see once stats are updated.

The Chiefs saw the Satar as a grave threat that needed to be stopped now, or else they would overrun us once they gained momentum.

Anyway, upon having finally actually read it, this update receives my personal seal of approval. Rejoice! ;)

That said, because I am contractually and morally obligated to nitpick about something:

The wind rose in the night and laid our plans to waste. ~ Ming proverb

This is not a proverb. :p

Also, the account of the Gallat-Ferman war is rather hard to follow, at least for a distant observer (especially Asamin's campaign).

But mostly I am just happy that you have finally gave my people the coverage they deserve, and that it only took me having to fight against the mightiest empire in the world. :p

A general comment – if you think you can squeeze a second campaign out of a turn, feel free. This was supposed to be a fifty year turn, enough for at least three campaigns, but all the participants in the Satar war detailed only one, so I cut the turn length considerably. And made the one campaign the decisive one, fancy that.

For what's it's worth, I did try to take that into account: hence the different phases. You could say that I had several different campaigns, too. Besides, they were planned so as to be extendable indefinitely or until a decisive result.

Also, Thlayli: it's pretty funny how over the last three turns you had forcefully shifted the balance of power on the western continent away from the maritime commercial civilisations to the inland dwelling peoples (especially the Uggor) and had managed to cripple and/or destroy just about everyone who could've stood against my continental predominance. Thank you so much! This will make building that world empire so much easier. :p

(Seriously though, between Thlayli burning all those cities, the fall of the Sesh, the rise of the unsustainable Trilui predominance and its current rapid decline, one would think that maritime civilisation world-wide, being commercial and therefore strongly interlinked, and also bound to suffer terribly just from the razing of some of the important trade centers alone, would enter a general period of decline economical, political and cultural, the centers of power generally and either gradually or drastically shifting to the more agrarian inland areas and correspondingly to the local elites. It would be rather disappointing if nothing of the kind were to happen is what I am hinting at.)

Glad to see this updated. Can I take over Sira?

Lament For the Two Jewels of Helsia/Hailsia o Rafaia Pouro Faen Baraeba

-Myelai Raefenof

O my brother of Trovin,
Who now stands to weep?
Ruby of the Lovi, Sapphire of Helsia,
Stolen from our hearts,
Raped and shattered* by the eternally hated**,
Cast aside as a heap of death, mouldering.

O my brother of Trovin, hurled into the sea,
O my brother of Farou, crushed into the earth,
We mourn for you,
We will recover you,
Together we shall heal,
And destroy the destroyer***.

Say Tarofa o hayaera,
Sayfin raian gaio mourai?
Loaifa o Saraebaha, Hailsia o Paraiafo,
Fouru o ieraita,
Dahaiaou** o Treda*,
Farapay haigao rosaida said boroaf, ioura.

Say Tarofa o hayaera, sarafay daiaigoa cora,
Say Farou o hayaera, raesha daiaigoa thaera,
Daera say robouru,
Daera say parcouru,
Radmafae raena dae,
Fanai houa pahouaia***.

*Treda- A difficult to translate word, corresponding to a sense of irreversibly traumatic and physically brutal destruction. I have done my poor best to convey the strength and meaning of this word, within this context.

**Dahaiaou- A very powerful and taboo curse, literally meaning 'no sun', implying a person or thing upon which Haiaou does not shine- going against the Faronun maxim 'Haiaou shines upon us all', and implying that something is so irredeemably bad that even Haiaou, a thing that gives the gift of warmth and life and happiness without judgement and to all, would not bless it.

***Pahouaia- Another difficult translation, it has multiple meanings- in this context, it can refer to either destroying the destroyer, and getting revenge, or symbolically destroying the destruction, and undoing the terrible wounds, thus concluding this work with multiple possible, and most likely intended, meanings.

Note on Translation: Faronun and Faerouhaiaouan languages both share quite similar structures, or lacks thereof. Sentences can be phrased in many ways which would appear, in English, to be nonsensical. The importance of words in a Faronun sentence is determined by verbal emphasis, and a typical tendency of increasing importance throughout a sentence- in a sense, one could say that the best is saved for last. Formal Faronun, being heavily influenced by many other languages, has largely adopted a consistent subject-object-verb order, where one would say 'Child toy plays' instead of 'The Child plays with the toy'. However, informal Faronun and poetic Faronun frequently bend these rules for artistic affect.

Also, Thlayli: it's pretty funny how over the last three turns you had forcefully shifted the balance of power on the western continent away from the maritime commercial civilisations to the inland dwelling peoples (especially the Uggor) and had managed to cripple and/or destroy just about everyone who could've stood against my continental predominance. Thank you so much! This will make building that world empire so much easier. :p

That was the idea...whether or not the Satar actually won anything, my original goal (both IC and OOC) was to get rid of the moribund, stagnant empires that have been piddling away the last thousand years in a generally static fashion.

Now what exactly do you want to do with the Satar? Whichever of the Seven did not die will most likely be assassinated or otherwise discredited, but if you can get the High Oracle (Ishalia) to agree to terms, the Satar will agree.

The Satar are amenable to being PART of a world empire, as mercenaries or whatnot, as long as there is continued wealth and victory in it for them. Alternatively, they could swear a blood vengeance on all Uggor and make the Sesh and its' environs a living hell for the next couple centuries. It's your call. :p

From: Hashaskor, Prince of the Star
To: Faron

I command the garrison at Subal. It is the wish of my men, following the death of Third Redeemer Xetares, to travel north and rejoin their people. Given our destruction of your cities, you may not be inclined to grant this request for safe passage. However, you men of Faron greatly pride your cities and the lives of your citizens. You could perhaps take my life and the lives of my men, but we would kill the inhabitants of Subal before you were to do so. Know that I do not wish such a thing, as it is inglorious.

Allow my men to leave under terms of truce, and I shall offer you myself as a sacrifice. The blood of a Prince of the Satar should satisfy your people's calls for vengeance.

In an OOC sense, I'm disappointed that my state survived in a recognizeable form. :p I might have to shake things up a little bit more.

Quite how many men had the Satari engage war with?!!?

It was 55,000, though only about 40-45,000 actually fought.

To: Hashaskor
From: Shafay Fetosa, General of Faron

Begone, every last one of you, and never return to the lands of the Faronun and Faerouhaiaouan. Take nothing other than that which you have brought. We do not desire to have more of your spilled blood poisoning our lands any further.

OOC: ND please take no offence but I could not sit idly by and watch my people die. I confess to having some part in the Duroc uprising but I don't remember including reciting a full-blown rebellion in my orders.

I've cut a song which I think might make an appropriate theme for this update, and the NES in general. :)

207864

It was 55,000, though only about 40-45,000 actually fought.

I know the Kratoan force totalled 57,000. 55,000 levies and 2,000 professionals. So yeah, there were probably about ten thousand more troops than just the Kratoans.

OOC: ND please take no offence but I could not sit idly by and watch my people die. I confess to having some part in the Duroc uprising but I don't remember including reciting a full-blown rebellion in my orders.

Hmm.... I'll take this into consideration. The Duroc people are closely tied with the Uggor. Hopefully we can end this quickly.

Glad to see this updated. Can I take over Sira?

Hmm. Two things to keep in mind are 1) this will not be updated again until May (I know, I know, but between college, finals, and going to a different country for a while, I won't be able to give this full attention), and 2) Sira's pretty heavily linked with Maninism, which would be Cuivienen's province.

But, of course you can, assuming you're okay with 1). :)

It was 55,000, though only about 40-45,000 actually fought.

More like 70,000 in the western theater, and only about 50,000 fought (and about 40,000 died somewhere along the way, wait until you see these casualties... :D). In the eastern theater, it was more like 25,000.

That was the idea...whether or not the Satar actually won anything, my original goal (both IC and OOC) was to get rid of the moribund, stagnant empires that have been piddling away the last thousand years in a generally static fashion.

Technically, maritime commercial empires are generally more dynamic, and I wholly intend to stagnate the hell out of this world with violence and oppression, but thanks anyway.

Now what exactly do you want to do with the Satar? Whichever of the Seven did not die will most likely be assassinated or otherwise discredited, but if you can get the High Oracle (Ishalia) to agree to terms, the Satar will agree.

I'll ponder it, but in the meantime, aren't your nobles and principal leaders all locked up in Magha? Or did the High Oracle and some others somehow escape to the north?

Alternatively, they could swear a blood vengeance on all Uggor and make the Sesh and its' environs a living hell for the next couple centuries.

It's tempting. An eternal war will do wonders for our martial spirit, and the River Sesh would be so much nicer if it was a horrible wasteland, in my humble opinion (we never liked the fish-people that much, if you haven't noticed). Still, I'll give your other offer a thought.

In an OOC sense, I'm disappointed that my state survived in a recognizeable form. :p I might have to shake things up a little bit more.

As I said, destroying several principal trade centers would, in a realistic world, have been enough to trigger a veritable mini-Dark Age (compare: the Bronze Age Collapse, or the Mongol invasions and the Middle East after them), at least in the more affected regions. I will do my part to make this dream reality, ofcourse, but your help and the help of all others in position to do harm will be greatly appreciated (to say nothing of North King's cooperation).

I know the Kratoan force totalled 57,000. 55,000 levies and 2,000 professionals. So yeah, there were probably about ten thousand more troops than just the Kratoans.



Hmm.... I'll take this into consideration. The Duroc people are closely tied with the Uggor. Hopefully we can end this quickly.

I was totally unaware Levies could be called upon in such numbers?!?!

Will this have a very draining effect on your nation?

I was totally unaware Levies could be called upon in such numbers?!?!

Will this have a very draining effect on your nation?

It depends entirely on your manpower how much one can levy. And if you levy close to the maximum amount of manpower, yes it will be draining.


edit: And this update was true a true mammoth made of awesome. Excellent work NK!

The Krato have a lot of manpower, though.

Which reminds me: North King, even with all the losses in Bisria taken into account, please don't forget a near-century's worth of population growth this time. :p I know I've nagged about that many enough times, but just think of how embarrassing it will be for everyone if you update the stats and forget that again.

Hmm. Two things to keep in mind are 1) this will not be updated again until May (I know, I know, but between college, finals, and going to a different country for a while, I won't be able to give this full attention), and 2) Sira's pretty heavily linked with Maninism, which would be Cuivienen's province.

If this was going to be updated next week, I wouldn't have time.

Maninism is part of the potential fun, as I don't think I've played in a similar situation. Fighting constant wars to try and convert everyone on this side of the Lovi Sea to it will be a new experience. Das's Dark Age is just icing on the cake.

Sadly, I am across the ocean, so I can't attack help you directly. :(

I was totally unaware Levies could be called upon in such numbers?!?!

Will this have a very draining effect on your nation?

Like I've said before I have a rebellion in my territory, my manpower is probably decreased, and many of my cities are still not rebuilt.

But yeah, I had tons of manpower. I intended to use that to my advantage. :mischief:

and I wholly intend to stagnate the hell out of this world with violence and oppression,

You can certainly try. :p

I'll ponder it, but in the meantime, aren't your nobles and principal leaders all locked up in Magha? Or did the High Oracle and some others somehow escape to the north?

The High Oracle was not in Magha. Most of the garrison there are nobility, but not high nobility.

As I said, destroying several principal trade centers would, in a realistic world, have been enough to trigger a veritable mini-Dark Age (compare: the Bronze Age Collapse, or the Mongol invasions and the Middle East after them), at least in the more affected regions. I will do my part to make this dream reality, ofcourse, but your help and the help of all others in position to do harm will be greatly appreciated (to say nothing of North King's cooperation).

I don't see why you think they haven't. It's only been like half a decade since the sack of Trovin (or some similar amount of time; I don't actually remember the year to be honest), and there's plenty of time for Dark Ages. Please be patient. ;)

Which reminds me: North King, even with all the losses in Bisria taken into account, please don't forget a near-century's worth of population growth this time. :p I know I've nagged about that many enough times, but just think of how embarrassing it will be for everyone if you update the stats and forget that again.

Not terribly. :p Moti have never been terribly manpower heavy for one reason or another (which will make building a world-empire somewhat difficult, but I trust you know that). But that [probably] will be "fixed."

You can certainly try. :p

As I said, Thlayli sort of gave me a head start by wiping out all those cultural centers and stuff.

I don't see why you think they haven't. It's only been like half a decade since the sack of Trovin (or some similar amount of time; I don't actually remember the year to be honest), and there's plenty of time for Dark Ages. Please be patient. ;)

I have been waiting for it since the (latest) fall of Sesh; that alone would've been enough to seriously cut into Trilui's and Farun's little golden age. But fine, I'll wait some more. ;)

Moti have never been terribly manpower heavy for one reason or another (which will make building a world-empire somewhat difficult, but I trust you know that).

Sure, sure, but between the conquered populations, the added living space via colonisation of western Bisria and the relative prosperity of up until this current war, I still think I am justified in expecting a little population growth over all this time. The world empire is going to be difficult, but I think I have a few ideas as to how it could all work out.

I think I should I more manpower as well.

I have taken over and mostly assimilated the Stadmen.

I have opened trade with the Nahari.

I have tons of Pra... Privateers.

I have opened trade with the Nahari.

Oh really? You didn't tell me anything about this!?!

Holy SNAP.

You didn't now anything about that?

Out of curiosity, what has become of Raenacu Aramsayafa, the rogue general who set out to fight alongside the Moti?

PMs replied to.

OoC: Heh, degreening is a much quicker process than greening, hence why northern forests are such diversity wastelands. As a point of interest, which way is the planet turning?

OOC: I think someone else in this thread said this already.

I think I should I more manpower as well.

I have taken over and mostly assimilated the Stadmen.

I have opened trade with the Nahari.

I have tons of Pra... Privateers.

I'm somewhat surprised that the Opulensi haven't attacked you already. You're being pretty darn brazen with your piracy on their shipping.

OOC: I think someone else in this thread said this already.

Err, yes; and judging by the quote it might just have been Disenfrancised. What does that have to do with anything?

I'm somewhat surprised that the Opulensi haven't attacked you already. You're being pretty darn brazen with your piracy on their shipping.

Privateers my friend, they do wonders to their mother country and terrors to their enemies.

Privateers my friend, they do wonders to their mother country and terrors to their enemies.

Yes, but they're operating out of Treha. The Opulensi aren't idiots, my friend.

If this was going to be updated next week, I wouldn't have time.

Maninism is part of the potential fun, as I don't think I've played in a similar situation. Fighting constant wars to try and convert everyone on this side of the Lovi Sea to it will be a new experience. Das's Dark Age is just icing on the cake.

You're in, then :)

I'll send you a PM with some details. I've been having quite a bit of fun with Maninism in this NES, and I'm so glad it's not dead, just dormant while NK is at school.

OOC: Out of pure curiosity, where are you at school Cuiv? There are a lot of NESers in northeastern universities of late. (Like me.)

Aren't you still in Santiago de Chile?

No, I came back after last semester. I was only there for the fall semester. I've been back in New Haven since second semester started in January, although I was in New Jersey for the past two weeks on break.

Anyway, for Thlayli, I'm at Yale for now. I'll be applying to law schools this fall--ugh.

Cool. There's NK at Amherst, myself at Fordham, and jalapeno_dude at some other unimportant Massachusetts school. :p Not quite sure where Contempt drifted off to, but he's in the northeast as well.

IC:

High Oracle Ishalia calls upon the city of Magha to open its' gates to the Moti, as they have promised that the city itself will be spared.

Several of the surviving Seven Princes have rejected the leadership of the Oracle and are traveling north to Asikhar. The mantle of the Redeemer has not been claimed and is apparently in dispute.

Cool. There's NK at Amherst, myself at Fordham, and jalapeno_dude at some other unimportant Massachusetts school. :p

I assume that means the H-word? :lol:

IC:

To: Seadol
From: Gallat

We will guarantee your independence against any future incursion by the Evyni Empire.



To: Evyni Empire
From: Gallat

Our wars have been long and tiring, and we would like to set aside our differences. However, the only way truly lasting peace can be achieved is if Evyni remains fully tolerant of its now quite sizable Faith minority and allows Gallatene ministration and missions within Evyni.


Would be good to have stats. Also, the update seems to suggest that most followers of Alta have fled former Ferman. Is this the case? A new religion map would be useful.

To: Gallat
From: The Evyni Empire

The Empire shall not and will never condone the practice of perverse heresies within the bounds of the state.

OOC: Of course, but since the update's not for a long while, I feel no rush. :p

The writing system of Faron, as used by both Faronun and Faerouhaiaouan languages:

http://img4.imageshack.us/img4/6158/faronunalphabet.png (http://img4.imageshack.us/my.php?image=faronunalphabet.png)

Stolen from the mother of all civilization, Seshweay.

Nothing matches up to the greatness of Bahraic.

Show me examples of Seshweay and Bahraic. Our scholars would like to chart the growth and evolution of languages!

Nothing matches up to the greatness of Bahraic.

Who the heck are they? :mischief:

Show me examples of Seshweay and Bahraic. Our scholars would like to chart the growth and evolution of languages!

Simple answer: Seshweay -----> everything else.

Yes, but of the Uggor of the south? The um... Inhabitants of the Spice Isle? The Atra Xorti of the Northeast?

Stolen from the mother of all civilization, Seshweay.

Actually, no. Faronun script was developed independently, very near to the ancient time of our founding.

Yes, but of the Uggor of the south? The um... Inhabitants of the Spice Isle? The Atra Xorti of the Northeast?

They stole it from us.

Actually, no. Faronun script was developed independently, very near to the ancient time of our founding.

It's a stunning coincidence that you were founded after Seshweay City-States had begun writing...

The Historian gagged as he read the newest letters, then rubbed his head.

This was going to be impossible...

Yeah, nations totally can't develop writing traditions independently of each other.

If that were true we'd have something like character-based alphabets in East Asia and letter-based alphabets in the West.

Yeah, nations totally can't develop writing traditions independently of each other.

If that were true we'd have something like character-based alphabets in East Asia and letter-based alphabets in the West.

The ancestors told us so! It's not our fault that you are all un-enlightened barbarians! Read the Book of Common Prayer why don't you? [This is mostly in character ranting].

Stolen from the mother of all civilization, Seshweay. It's a stunning coincidence that you were founded after Seshweay City-States had begun writing...The Rebuttal of Igaen Laoreda, Faronun Historian

Please my good sir, have a look at the evidence. It is clear that Faronun written languages developed independently of other civilizations.

Let us consider the Arkage.
Language(s): The writing is cuniform. Tense, not word order, is used to determine the context of speaking.A relationship is highly unfeasible, due to the radically different natures of Arkage and Faronun language- Arkage is Cuneiform, while Faronun is a system of consonants appended to a vowel line.

Or the Seshweay.
Language(s):

Seshweay speak one language, however from region to region it varies heavily with different dialects being the norm. The most spoken version is perhaps with a hint of humour “High” Seshweay spoken primarily by the elite in business and civil interactions it is characteristic of the Seshweay language as a whole; Complex.

Seshweay between Ancestral groups will speak to each other differently to those outside the group using different greetings and changing the formality of the speech and changing the verb endings and even in the more extreme cases omitting whole sounds.

Seshweay is characterised as a language group by its extremely complex sense of timing, events of in the past, present and future have sub categories, those events which happen in the distant past and in the close past have different sentence construction. Similarly events which are happening in the present and those which have been resolved in the present have different construction. Throw into that a completely different approach to speaking about the ancestors and possible futures and the average non-native-speaker is unlikely to ever learn.

The word Seshweay means variously, people, the people, the four cities which claim to be the only real Seshweay, culture, the world, the heavens and a great many things beside (what context it is being used in is generally codified directly after or before the word is used, generally, Seshweay humour is composed of forgetting to codify the exact usage properly).By this record, the Seshweay had not yet developed the written language for which it was later so famous. It is entirely possible that Seshweay developed their language at a later point, in tandem or influenced by the Arkage.

Perhaps the Hu'ut?
Language(s): Hu'ampaibve. The language is quite rough and blabbering. Words are very long, and are pronounced very fast. Fx a sentence could be "Uijjanbekevbk sevikla mub've a'ini hubvawbkio dhaes", said at the same speed as "My dog ate it". There is major traces of a more simple language, Ujji, in the south (a sentence could be "Limbje tatuop klbe doc' ").While the closely interwined history of ancient Farou and the Hu'ut Empire makes a relationship entirely possible, the Hu'ut had not yet developed written language, and the two languages are so radically different that it is almost unimaginable that they could be expressed with the same alphabet.

Now, let us consider historical records regarding the early culture of Farou.
Language(s): Farouese is a very smooth language, with many complex vowel sounds and soft consonants. It is fairly loosely structured, though there is typically a subject-object-action order in sentences. The written form of the Farou language uses a simple alphabet, typically carved into clay. The letters consist of a system of dots and straight lines.What is understood to be the origins of the Faronun language developed independently of any known civilization. The consensus of popular belief, our own mythology, and our historical understanding is that the language was first developed as the linear system which is now used to express our vowels. It was used as way to write down tone for music, quite similarly to the way that we can notate our music in modern Faron.

One other possibility remains, however.
Language(s): The writing system evolved from pictures to a crude alphabet containing 2 dozen characters. Writing is done in clay, until a more suitable method is obtained. There is a dialect of the language spoken by the lower class (Trihi) and a more sophisticated version spoken by the upper and trader class (Triha).It is noted that today, Faronun script makes use of 16 consonants and a vowel line. It is entirely possible that the use of consonants in ancient Trilui's alphabet was adopted by the scribes of early Farou, allowing our early systems to develop into a full-fledged written script. However, it remains equally possible that the consonants too were developed within Farou.

I will conduct further research and maintain our correspondence.

-Igaen Laoreda

Yes, but of the Uggor of the south? The um... Inhabitants of the Spice Isle? The Atra Xorti of the Northeast?

Uggor got their written characters/language from Thearak, who got theirs from the northern civilizations. So yeah, the southern peoples probably do owe a lot to the Seshweay when it comes to languages.


P.S. Still eagerly awaiting stats. I'm sorry I can't write too much right now, as my computer is acting up.

A relationship is highly unfeasible, due to the radically different natures of Arkage and Faronun language- Arkage is Cuneiform, while Faronun is a system of consonants appended to a vowel line.

All civilized people are aware that the Arkage language and Seshweay languages are removed from each other. The Arkage adopted Old Seshweay norms of writing using Cuniform, which was better suited to their language (guttural and unbecoming as it is). Modern Seshweay is derived from a slightly newer, but ancient source, an alphabet of some 13 characters, which is better suited to the spelling and peculiarities of the organization of the language.

By this record, the Seshweay had not yet developed the written language for which it was later so famous. It is entirely possible that Seshweay developed their language at a later point, in tandem or influenced by the Arkage.

Incorrect. Old Seshweay was still written by the Oligarchs and the Priesthoods in the City States days, but the majority of the population had already transferred over to Traditional Seshweay which is what the text is referring to. Linguistically Traditional Seshweay is closest to today's Ti-Sesh Seshweay (and is still spoken in former-Bahra in some places). The Arkage after a time came to develop Ark Seshweay which is a dialect of Seshweay with heavy Arkage influence. Very few words of Arkage have made their way into the other dialects of Seshweay, Ti-Sesh, Siesite, Ex-Sesh, Ma-Seshm, Traditional Seshweay and Ai-Sesh. All of which corrospond to a sub-set of the Seshweay population:

Ti-Sesh - Ti-Seshites in the South speak;
Siesite - Spoken by the inhabbitants of Sies and the Delta;
Ex-Sesh - Spoken by the Exiles;
Ma-Seshm - Spoken by the Far Exiles;
Traditional Seshweay - Spoken by a small group in Bahra;
Ai-Sesh - Spoken by the Janians and people living under the Trilui Empire.

It is noted that today, Faronun script makes use of 16 consonants and a vowel line. It is entirely possible that the use of consonants in ancient Trilui's alphabet was adopted by the scribes of early Farou, allowing our early systems to develop into a full-fledged written script. However, it remains equally possible that the consonants too were developed within Farou.

Siesite Seshweay shares many similarities with the Trilui languages, it is not unbelievable that it is the reverse, the Trilui borrowed our word for desert, and it is likely our written script as well. Given that we use the same characters, and have some similarities in structure (translating Trilui trade script is quite simple).

I will conduct further research and maintain our correspondence.

Quite. You of course understand that the Lord Aya'se promised us that the Ancestors would be found in his daughters lifetime?

In any case, the Arkage when they invaded all those years ago, occupied the sites of our cities, integrated elements of our culture, worshiped bastardized versions of the ancestors and ruled as an occupying force. They did not have writing when they came to us, nor did the Bahra who were little better than the Satarai in terms of barbarity or any others, so say the Ancestors and the records of the First Republic.

We further extend our sympathies for the loss of your capital, many of us spent some portion of our time in exile there. We shall return, when it is rebuilt and beautiful once more (or when our homeland is overrun again... whichever comes first).

Uggor got their written characters/language from Thearak, who got theirs from the northern civilizations. So yeah, the southern peoples probably do owe a lot to the Seshweay when it comes to languages.

Quite.

I've decided to try and write a Uggor sentence or two:

Kij yenri swen afono emen swen jiti.

The good cow has become a good meal.

Kiji buci gor emen frego.

The four men are dead.

This is an example of the Kasud dialect of Uggor, spoken mainly in the southern areas of Krato near the capital. I plan on doing other dialects later.

To Gallat
From Shadyn, the Law-Giver of Evyn.

You seem to be under some delusion that you are in command of the West; perhaps this is the result of the same disorder that has lead your populace to believe in a Creator. That you would seek to force your ideals upon our populace is more than enough to provoke a thousand wars between our peoples. Heresy, no matter the source or locale, will never be tolerated within the borders of our Empire without limitations. You have no say in this issue, and if you deem this unacceptable, then let us commence with hostilities. We fear no outcome.

This issue having been dealt with, we must state our extreme displeasure with your notion of “security” for the Seadol people. This act is a blatant threat to our people and it shall not stand without competition. Unless revoked immediately, the Empire of Evyn declares war upon Seadol people and its allies.

Finally, we must stress that there is yet a chance for your peoples to escape the ravishes of war. In return for a retraction of your threat, the Evyni Empire will restrict its armies from the Seadol lands; Taudo will remain a portion of the Empire through. No quarter will be given to heretics upon the main land, and your traders will never be allowed upon our soil. However, the island of Ritya[1] will be made a haven for those that do not follow our faith, and your traders will be granted restricted processions on the island. Your missionaries, however, are not allowed within the Empire and a foot upon any portion will be punishable by death.

[1]Rityva; the main island of the archipelago; also know as Ritti.

OOC: Its generally known that the Crier, the Avaimian alphabet, is descended almost directly from the Sesh, with only minor changes resulting from its procession through Ritti and Prokym lands. The pronunciation of the characters do not correlate whatsoever, but their forms are reminiscent.

Hwah? I thought that you had quit, Dark. :mischief:

EDIT: Ahh, I saw your WWW post. Fair enough. :p

Check dis crudeness.

http://img441.imageshack.us/img441/8379/faronun2.png

You're in, then :)

I'll send you a PM with some details. I've been having quite a bit of fun with Maninism in this NES, and I'm so glad it's not dead, just dormant while NK is at school.

Interesting Read.

Das, I resent the implication that I need your help in running my nation into the ground.

By all means, do it yourself. I don't want to invade another continent just to mess things up for you. :p

Convert and your nations shall be saved!

And the Lord sang Hal...you know what, I don't know when this has ever worked :/

It worked in Bisria after we conquered it, for what's it's worth.

that just makes it an anomoly, thats even worse :sad:

Nonsense, we'll push north in the wake of the fall of the Satar Empire and its Redeemer. It will be a blast.

of course, I just want them to convert, you know, some sort of Christian or Islamic convesion sweeping accross the basin, you know something we've never seen in a NES before :/

come on guys, show me some love!

Of course the Kratoans could just use the Duroc scripture.

Of course the Kratoans could just use the Duroc scripture.

I was under the impression that all southern civilizations obtained thier written languages from northern civilizations, with the exception of early Thearaki hiroglyphics. NK might be able to help us sort this all out.

Edit: I'd just like to describe the Kratoan governemnt system for a bit. There are approximetly 20 "families" (more like clans now) that are represented in the Council of Chiefs. Each family elects a male in their family to represent them in the Council of Chiefs. For new families to gain a seat at the Council of Chiefs, the Council must decide whether to give them a sot or not. Usually this is done with debates or sometimes voting. However, voting isn't really the main duty of the Chiefs. They discuss and argue, until they find solutions to problems. Represenatives can agree to withhold their resources if they disagree with a certain action or law, but this can be risky. Such protests are often ended with threats of exile and removement from the Council.

The Low Chiefs are chosen officials that are appointed by the families represented in the Council. They generally just help collect taxes, manage trade, and other jobs deemed to insignificant to the Council.

The position of War Chief is held by individuals selected by the Council to lead large armies. Usually there is just around 5 war Chiefs around at any given time. However during some times when good leadership was needed, and it was worth the risk giving individuals command over vast armies, there can be any number of War Chiefs. Once a crisis is deemed over, the War Chief can either continue his role in the military, or retire with a large sum of Ka as his payment.

Mhm.

Legends are legends, ofcourse, but what about holidays (private and public) and rituals (life cycle and other - such as for instance the monarch's ascension ceremony)?There are various celebrations at the coming of the rains, celebrations of the spirits, and important Haiaoan (solar) festivals on the solstices and equinoxes. Daily rituals... well, I could write a story about that.

According to Iggy, the uplanders (the ones with the very long name) have more of a mystical tradition than the coastal-dwelling, more urbane Faronun.Yes, the Faerouhaiaouans are much more spiritual, believing in the immediacy of the spirits and in their direct impact upon humanity. Faronun view them as being eccentric, flighty, xenophobic and irrational, although they are the speakers of the 'language of art'. The Faerouhaiaouans view the Faronun with some mild disdain, at worst considering them to be corrupt, authoritarian, and materialistic.

Ironically, most of the cultural produce of Faron comes from the Faronun- the city of Farou and was once a great cosmopolitan center and place of cultural mixing.

The Iralliam faith has the disadvantage that there is no accepted lingua franca to spread its texts by. Mostly as there has been no sweeping, world-unifying empire.

Religion in the Sesh is going to be a mess. It's already split between Ardavan and Ancestor Worship, and the introduction of Iralliam won't simplify things.

I'd just like to describe the Kratoan governemnt system for a bit. There are approximetly 20 "families" (more like clans now) that are represented in the Council of Chiefs. Each family elects a male in their family to represent them in the Council of Chiefs. For new families to gain a seat at the Council of Chiefs, the Council must decide whether to give them a sot or not. Usually this is done with debates or sometimes voting. However, voting isn't really the main duty of the Chiefs. They discuss and argue, until they find solutions to problems. Represenatives can agree to withhold their resources if they disagree with a certain action or law, but this can be risky. Such protests are often ended with threats of exile and removement from the Council.

The Low Chiefs are chosen officials that are appointed by the families represented in the Council. They generally just help collect taxes, manage trade, and other jobs deemed to insignificant to the Council.

The position of War Chief is held by individuals selected by the Council to lead large armies. Usually there is just around 5 war Chiefs around at any given time. However during some times when good leadership was needed, and it was worth the risk giving individuals command over vast armies, there can be any number of War Chiefs. Once a crisis is deemed over, the War Chief can either continue his role in the military, or retire with a large sum of Ka as his payment.

Lurker's comment: Not to provoke you or anything, but how does the state pass any laws or decisions when they usually have to agree about a subject, not vote about it? People don't usually agree about their nation, especially not spoiled aristocrats.

The Nahari invested heavily in their economy, and with the influx of refugees, especially from the latest in the series of wars, they were well-placed to do this. Their formerly ruined islands were repopulated with refugees, though there were some raised eyebrows at exactly how cosmopolitan this Empire was getting. In the meantime, an expedition to Leun, while not discovering any new lands, did solidify the links between the states and better survey the coastline for trading ships.

Yay for my Cosmopolitan Empire of the Nahari! :king:

There are various celebrations at the coming of the rains, celebrations of the spirits, and important Haiaoan (solar) festivals on the solstices and equinoxes. Daily rituals... well, I could write a story about that.

Now, see? That's what I'm talking about. Secular and religious philosophies don't really matter to most people alive as much as the rituals; even in Moti-city, a veritable bastion of Iralliam orthodoxy in some regards due to its southerner-ran theological schools, the main public event is the new year sacred elephant sacrifice to the ancestor-god of the Elephant Family, and in all due honesty this seems unlikely to go away any time soon.

So, advanced animism (i.e. spirit worship; I'm thinking of either the Iroquois or the Japanese here)?

The Iralliam faith has the disadvantage that there is no accepted lingua franca to spread its texts by.

I honestly keep forgetting what country Kal'thzar was playing in the first place was called (Duroc?), but its language should do fine for this, if not quite as well as Arabic did for Islam or Latin for Catholicism.

Mostly as there has been no sweeping, world-unifying empire.

I'm working on it.

Religion in the Sesh is going to be a mess. It's already split between Ardavan and Ancestor Worship, and the introduction of Iralliam won't simplify things.

I already promised you violence and oppression; surely that cannot fail to help? :p

Not to provoke you or anything, but how does the state pass any laws or decisions when they usually have to agree about a subject, not vote about it? People don't usually agree about their nation, especially not spoiled aristocrats.

It worked for Novgorod. And by worked I mean it eventually failed miserably and pathetically, but the boyars there sure had it good while everyone else was too weak to harm them. Poland-Lithuania did have voting and also the liberum veto, which is pretty awesome in that if you and you alone do not agree with the decisions (and are a member of the Sejm), you can just put your foot down and keep everyone from getting any work done out of sheer spite. It (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/First_Partition_of_Poland) went (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Second_Partition_of_Poland) well (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Third_Partition_of_Poland). Also: the British Cabinet, though that required giving the Prime Minister more and more power to force through a consensus.

Consensual oligarchy is a pretty awful way of actually running a state, but can be a very nice political compromise, and as long as there are some recognised common interests it is possible to make it work, if squeakily.

Lurker's comment: Not to provoke you or anything, but how does the state pass any laws or decisions when they usually have to agree about a subject, not vote about it? People don't usually agree about their nation, especially not spoiled aristocrats.

It worked for Novgorod. And by worked I mean it eventually failed miserably and pathetically, but the boyars there sure had it good while everyone else was too weak to harm them. Poland-Lithuania did have voting and also the liberum veto, which is pretty awesome in that if you and you alone do not agree with the decisions (and are a member of the Sejm), you can just put your foot down and keep everyone from getting any work done out of sheer spite. It (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/First_Partition_of_Poland) went (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Second_Partition_of_Poland) well (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Third_Partition_of_Poland). Also: the British Cabinet, though that required giving the Prime Minister more and more power to force through a consensus.

Consensual oligarchy is a pretty awful way of actually running a state, but can be a very nice political compromise, and as long as there are some recognised common interests it is possible to make it work, if squeakily.

It actually did work in the case of the Haudenosaunee (Iroquois) Confederation.

I honestly keep forgetting what country Kal'thzar was playing in the first place was called (Duroc?), but its language should do fine for this, if not quite as well as Arabic did for Islam or Latin for Catholicism.

Thearak. The issue is not that languages are hard to learn, the issue is that no one language is already spoken across a wide area. Christianity had an easy time because huge numbers of people spoke Greek and Latin, and thus translated texts could be rapidly disseminated. The Arabs were ruling the Muslim world, so people were picking up bits of Arabic already; the jump to learning the religious lingo wasn't that difficult. Otherwise, religions that face language barriers have a hard time traveling quickly: Zoroastrianism was confined to Persia; Buddhism took centuries to spread anywhere outside of Magadha, etc. Religions in this NES will probably follow that pattern.

Thearak. The issue is not that languages are hard to learn, the issue is that no one language is already spoken across a wide area. Christianity had an easy time because huge numbers of people spoke Greek and Latin, and thus translated texts could be rapidly disseminated. The Arabs were ruling the Muslim world, so people were picking up bits of Arabic already; the jump to learning the religious lingo wasn't that difficult.

It won't be easy, but I am going for a more Akkadian or Aramaic type of language spread here actually, for reasons that will become more apparent later if all works out well, but for now are limited to me hiring southerner teachers for my theological schools.

Religions in this NES will probably follow that pattern.

Well, they usually do anyway. Don't forget that Buddhism eventually did find an appropriate "host language", even if it never became as universal as Latin or Arabic were to their respective religions. And the Zoroastrians were more confined by not really getting the proselytism thing until it was too late (pre-Kartir Zoroastrianism is not a very organised religion anyway, being more of an umbrella state religious ideology hanging over many, many unstandardised cults that were not universal in character and so no good for a world church).

I'm fairly sure that in Magha and much of the western Sesh, a Satarized neo-Bahraic is the standard dialect. Given a good 50 years it will probably become its' own language, especially since the Satar of the river valley and those that remain on (or return to) the north will soon diverge considerably.

Ethnically, linguistically and religiously confused and socially and politically shaken regions actually tend to be nice and malleable, unlike more stable cultural areas. I'm sure we'll assimilate you all eventually. ;)

I'm fairly sure that the spread of Arabic was helped with the requirement for the Koran to be studied in arabic.

I know my girlfriend had to study it in arabic (swedish), and although she didn't study it for that long, she did proceed quite far.

Do you even have a canon holy text as opposed to a collection of writings? If not, then you had better make one, hint hint.

there was a collection of the Prophets life that was put out briefly after the death of the Prophet. Then there is of course the various writings.

So I suppose it should be collected; if you want you can add some input into what you think should be put in, you are all valuable members of the religion and the patriarchs in you region will tend to reflect your opinons...

Maybe if you could go over the ecclesiastical organisation (again?)? Anyway, if there are several regional patriarchs, now is as good a time as any to hold an ecumenical council.

EDIT: North King, no rush whatsoever, but did you get my PM yesterday?

Currently there is a Patriarch in Krato, one in Opios, one in your capital and one in the Kotthorn pass to the Hu'ut.

I am considering the promotion of one in the area of Duroc to better handle their...worries. And one for the East.

the general organisation is Patriarchs over the some defined area, and with priests at the churches/temples, generally with some inner hierarchy between the two, nothing strict yet mostly dependent on the region it acts within and what works.

The Patriarchs are subserviant to the Prime (who really needs a better name), who is also the Patriarch for Opios and Thearakian lands. Who organises things via councils and so forth

It actually did work in the case of the Haudenosaunee (Iroquois) Confederation.

It is my impression that this is how early forms of common democracy (as in, common law, and also primitive rural community and its subsequent offshots) work anyway, before a more strict and formal system of voting is implemented; and it isn't always implemented, especially in places where such common (communal? I don't want to confuse it with the European medieval commune) traditions are particularly strong (i.e. the legalised egalitarian Iroquois communities, or Novgorod, which was based on a strong entrenched common aristocracy).

And ofcourse it can work just fine for a long time, there are just some inherent weaknesses that, when combined with additional internal and/or external complications, are likely to force a reform or a collapse.

one in your capital

The old one or the new one? The old one has the advantage of older theological schools and whatnot, plus it was the capital when you started sending your new wave of missionaries.

(who really needs a better name)

Archpatriarch? Grand Patriarch (informally, the Nonno :p )? Primarch?

The Patriarchs are subserviant to the Prime (who really needs a better name), who is also the Patriarch for Opios and Thearakian lands. Who organises things via councils and so forth

I would be happy to host a council if you will allow that. Where does the Prime reside, anyway?

The Prime resides in Opios, where the Prophets tomb is

Archpatriarch sounds nice, but so does the Nonno :p

I think the Patriarch resides in the new capital, I think I wrote a story that indicated that he wanted to be near the centre of "power", and the theological power would follow him anyway, hes their link to the Prime.

Sure host a Council, recent victory and so on, if anything i think that Irraliam faith would be helped with things NOT always being 'dictated' by someone who never moves around :p

EDIT: North King, no rush whatsoever, but did you get my PM yesterday?

Yes. I haven't gotten a chance to answer inquiries yet.

but so does the Nonno

Or, uh, whatever the help the Thearak word for "grandfather" is.

Sure host a Council, recent victory and so on, if anything i think that Irraliam faith would be helped with things NOT always being 'dictated' by someone who never moves around

It would be a bit remiss if the Grandpa wasn't at least represented, though. Still, I'm all for me dictating things in his place. :p

oh he'll be there, my point is thats grandpa at least moves around and doesn't force everyone to come to him.

I mean, although he represents his God, he isn't ACTUALLY God :D

It worked for Novgorod. And by worked I mean it eventually failed miserably and pathetically, but the boyars there sure had it good while everyone else was too weak to harm them. Poland-Lithuania did have voting and also the liberum veto, which is pretty awesome in that if you and you alone do not agree with the decisions (and are a member of the Sejm), you can just put your foot down and keep everyone from getting any work done out of sheer spite. It (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/First_Partition_of_Poland) went (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Second_Partition_of_Poland) well (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Third_Partition_of_Poland). Also: the British Cabinet, though that required giving the Prime Minister more and more power to force through a consensus.

Consensual oligarchy is a pretty awful way of actually running a state, but can be a very nice political compromise, and as long as there are some recognised common interests it is possible to make it work, if squeakily.

Great, just wanted to know.

I would advise against a patriarch in Duroc territory particularly Hala. He would face hatred from the Order and maybe violence, not approved violence if that makes it any better. You are held as the cause for the Kratoan attack on us. Maybe our two religions could work together as they seem similar. I am working on a piece about Duroc philosophy at the moment and then I will finally re-write their religious texts for all to see. We both believe that one true god exists and there is an evil god we must all struggle against.

OOC: *groans and shakes head*

Not related to the above, but interesting update. :) Power dynamics FTW.

The Palmyrians found themselves again undergoing a rather peaceful period. The economy did not grow any further – it seemed to have reached its natural limit, and whenever the people attempted to cultivate new land they almost always found it too marginal to be of any lasting value.

Masada's Malthusian sense is tickling.

I would advise against a patriarch in Duroc territory particularly Hala. He would face hatred from the Order and maybe violence, not approved violence if that makes it any better. You are held as the cause for the Kratoan attack on us. Maybe our two religions could work together as they seem similar. I am working on a piece about Duroc philosophy at the moment and then I will finally re-write their religious texts for all to see. We both believe that one true god exists and there is an evil god we must all struggle against.

you realise that there are Duroc people who are part of the Iralliam faith? The update all those years ago mentioned it sweeping accross Krato, so yes he might face hatred from the Duroc people worshipping their own religion, but then he needs to protect the interests of the duroc people who DO worship Irraliam...

Palmyra being peaceful is like the ocean being wet.

I would advise against a patriarch in Duroc territory particularly Hala. He would face hatred from the Order and maybe violence, not approved violence if that makes it any better. You are held as the cause for the Kratoan attack on us. Maybe our two religions could work together as they seem similar. I am working on a piece about Duroc philosophy at the moment and then I will finally re-write their religious texts for all to see. We both believe that one true god exists and there is an evil god we must all struggle against.

Like Kal said, there is a large amount of Duroc that follow Iralliam. In fact, I think the majority of them follow it, the Order's religion being the minority.

Also, Is Hala even rebuilt yet? I think I rebuilt a Duroc city, but I don't know which.

A Time of Ruin

"A cold wind is rising. It smells of water."

There were three standing there, on the ramparts of the citadel of Magha. Two wore bronze masks. The third was a woman.

The Oracle turned to her guards. "Atavik. Malim." They nodded.

No sound carried from the Ark of Citadels to the courtyard below, except for the muffled bump caused by a body falling several hundred feet. A large crowd of onlookers and several Moti soldiers that had entered the city not a day before soon gathered around the remains.

The corpse's throat had been cut, and the neck was completely broken from the fall. The identity was clear, however, by the shards of a shattered obsidian mask.

Ishalia was dead.

---

Nashastim

This place had seen gatherings of outriders since the days of Arastephas. Once it was the domain of the Clotir, but none now lived that remembered those days. It was a Satar place, a desert place.

Arastephas once said to his son, "Men gather in the desert to feel the loneliness of the universe together. They take joy in their insignificance, under the stars."

They bore her corpse out of the city on a palanquin of silver. Acolytes chanted her praises, those that had not killed themselves in anguish. The suicides were many that year, as those of the Redeemer's household, one by one, ended their own lives. Those that did not pay the life-price for their failure in battle were not true Satar. These dogs were hunted down, and the sport of their death added to the air of festivity around the gathering.

Some fifteen thousand Satar came to Nashastim in time. It would have been more, but others were in Magha, or holding down the city of Seis, or already skirmishing against the Moti in the old places of the Sesh the Satar once thought they owned.

There were those that said that it should have been done on the Rath Tephas. But they were shouted down. Rath Tephas was a hallows, a place of legends. Men went there no longer, lest they see Arastephas unmasked, wandering the hills as legend said.

But as it came to be written, the Satar met at Nashastim.

Prince Hashaskor of the Star was lost in the south. Prince Aphas-ta-shaim of the Sword had died in honor protecting his Redeemer. Prince Malanos-ke of the Arrow had vanished into the desert following the loss of his household and the death of his sons.

So it remained that four Princes were left. Isal-averas-ha of the Spear, Tashik of the Scroll, Xetephas of the Shield, and Malanil of the Wheel.

And the great gathering came to a close with the deaths of all four. As one, they shouted a great lament to Taleldil, and plunged cold steel into their stomachs. Their corpses were placed upon the great blazing bonfire that had been made that day, as the laments the doomed Princes began were carried up by the multitudes.

Oh wondrous liege of thunder,
it was in arrogance that we sought triumphs,
accolades and titles of glory we sought.

Now your majesty has fled,
left the unworthy for a host more fitting,
your disgust at our cowardice made manifest.

We seek only the penance of the journey,
to forever cross harsh wastes,
with only the blood of our horses to nourish us.

For every drop of the blood of Taleldil,
every drop that touches the ground,
a generation shall turn upon itself.

We ask that no peace be given to us,
that no green thing appease our sight,
no cool water refresh our lips.

Let us know only the feel of the saddle,
the wind of the mountain,
the wind of the desert.

That you, and at your right and left hands the Two Redeemers,
the High Princes Gold and Silver,
hear and accept our holocausts.

So it was that the Satar were ended. Anthropologists and historians would speculate centuries hence that the death of the Exatai was not so abrupt, so immediate. Rather, it was more of a gradual process of infighting and degeneration.

Those who said such things failed to understand the religious beliefs of that time. The Satar WERE Satar because they could not be defeated. That they WERE defeated meant that they were so manifestly unworthy. They had allowed a spear to be plunged into the side of their god. If he suffered, how much greater should their suffering be?

As the Kaphaiavai wrote, Great and long would their sufferings be.

And so it was that the people who were Satar were scattered, as dust to the wind, as starlight to the advance of dawn.

It was not known to any among them that Hashaskor of the Star still lived.

Hala is not rebuilt.

Out of curiosity (and necessity for story writing) how absolute was the destruction of Faron, and what was the damage dealt to the rest of the countryside?

Nice stories Thlay! :)

Faron was thoroughly trashed, and though plenty of stones were left standing atop one another, few buildings escaped fire and stripping of all valuables. Moreover, the earthquake that ruined Trovin (for a second time) was more or less concurrent with Xetares' pillaging, so the devastation was even more total for all of that.

The south of Faron is likewise more or less destroyed; the north survives still.

I'm somewhat curious as to where the massive amount of treasure in the Satar baggage train actually ended up. Did the Moti get control of it, or what?

Yes, I enjoyed writing this story. The lament is inspired by some of the Old Testament psalms I've read.

Moti soldiers

Warriors, you mean. Soldiers are for people with actual statehood and a professional regular army.

Otherwise, nice story, and I guess now I won't have to weave an intricate intrigue to destroy all or most of those people who had just killed themselves. Good thing, too, since I was about to write a speech to justify it all and you stopped me just in time.

I'm somewhat curious as to where the massive amount of treasure in the Satar baggage train actually ended up. Did the Moti get control of it, or what?

See, this is quite confusing, since apparently it was sent to Magha, which we had already besieged. So it would make sense for us to seize it, though it might as easily have disappeared like the Library of Ivan IV, to haunt the minds of archeologists for centuries to come.

EDIT:

I would advise against a patriarch in Duroc territory particularly Hala. He would face hatred from the Order and maybe violence, not approved violence if that makes it any better. You are held as the cause for the Kratoan attack on us. Maybe our two religions could work together as they seem similar. I am working on a piece about Duroc philosophy at the moment and then I will finally re-write their religious texts for all to see. We both believe that one true god exists and there is an evil god we must all struggle against.

Up to the Grand Archprimepatriarch, but maybe we can at least discuss this at the council as well along with some other matters. Maybe even let in a representative and work out something like the OTL Uniate arrangement?

NK. I know you feel no rush.. but any kinda eta on stats please?

Some of the Satar treasure was lost, some went with the army, and still remains in their hands.

The stats will be done when I darn well feel like it; the update is in frigging May.

What does Thlayli's story mean as far as the current political composition of the Satar is concerned? No one left to negotiate with apart from that southern commander of theirs or possibly the quasi-Seshified bureaucracy?