TerraNES: The Civil Experiment

spaceman98 said:

Build a spearman

Click to expand...

I think you have to do that by PM. I got scolded by another player for posting my orders in the thread.

Indeed, this is not IOT. You PM your orders

Part II: Rumen Magnalorum

d'Jango sat silently in his chair. The Ruman's Council had gathered in Ctesiphod, once more. It had been a very long ten years since he left the construction of the city walls to others.

"...resolved, the Council moves that the tariffs through the city and costs of the docking be abolished entirely. Ctesiphod relies on our trade and continued support to keep it going. If the Rumen decide to route our trade elsewhere.."

Silence.

The Nicatta O'Ragda stood slowly from his elevated chair.

The Council met four times yearly, usually in Varence. Varence had proved a center of trade beside Ctesiphod itself, and due to its newness, was a great choice for neutrality amongst the Rumen-led towns.

O'Ragda sighed heavily.

"Ctesiphod needs your trade, and you need our protection. There is not talk of distraction. There is not talk of dissent, nor rebellion. There is no talk of withholding taxes. You have no leverage, but to encourage your trade elsewhere, yet you come here in a body,"

The Nicatta was, by definition, the voice of the status quo. The Rumen were set in a Council to discuss the changes and the future of those people in their towns and even cities. In recent years even Ctesiphod had been appointed a Rumen, to balance the Nicatta out.

The system was not designed for balance, though. It was designed for stability, and endurance.

"to Ctesiphod, the City and line which instituted the Rumen, to request either that the institution of the Nicatta is dissolved at my death,"

"Yes."

"Or that I strong arm and bully the dock owners of Ctesiphod into cutting all profits from Rumen trade, a stark 80% of their traffic, or else you will try to cut all Rumen traffic to the city."

It seemed that stability was to disappear now.

"Yes."

The Rumen Ahar from Agame was truly a politician. He had convinced well over half of the other Rumen on the Council that this was the way to go. And he had done it with the neutrality of d'Jango Magnalorum's town.

"The Nicatta have served this city and its towns for over 150 years, damn effectively, and damn well." The Nicatta spoke again.

"The Nicatta have been born into power and luxury at the people's expense, while we Rumen have been chosen by the people to represent them fairly and well." Ahar now.

"The same could be said of any land-owning portion of the population. Why target this institution?" The Nicatta.

d'Jango stood and spoke.

"To send a messege to all those who would push their poor, their inferior, their neighbors down in the mud at a moment's notice, for a bag full of silver. If we stop greed, corruption and powermongering in the government, at this level, it will mean we can do it anywhere. O'Ragda, you know this means something to you, as well. You've never been a greedy man; it's not you we're targetting. It's people like your grandfather, people who punish slaves and kill their children as punishments."

The Nicatta sighed again and sat down.

"Request that the Council reconvene in six hours." he looked to the Rumen for approval.

Many gave thumbs up, fewer gave thumbs down.

"The Council of the Rumen to reconvene in six hours."

d'Jango stretched and sipped from his carved mug as Ahar approached him.

"That was good work you did up there, Magnalorum."

"You put all this together, Ahar. You know, I've had this mug for years. I was given it when I first came to this city, from the east. It showed me how the poor appreciated meeting new people, strangers."

A lie. He had traded for it, fair and square. He handed it over.

"Ahh, yes. This describes a journey to Samnia, in the south. This story was recorded over 60 years ago. How well they can still capture the events in this pottery."

Ahar handed the mug back to him. Greenleaf tea splashed over the edge.

1: Ctesiphod sits at the feet (yes, feet) of the major river, known as the Rtas, that runs through Cytrian territory in the north of Valyria. All Cytrian towns westward of the city route their trade through the great dockyards, and out into the Phoddic Sea. Towns east of the city ship their goods to the ports of Ctesiphod, as it is the largest Cytrian-friendly port around. Markets in the south find it a nice place to unload plenty of slaves, cheap. Heavy regulation by local authorities prevents un-deserved cruelty to slaves, however.

2: Mediolaum also serves as a center of trade. Being the only other city with proper unloading docks, it is preferred over pulling ashore and tugging your wares overland to either Agame or Varance. A large fishing industry as well as agriculture and herding also make this a very populous city, for the region.

3: Agame is nestled in the foothills of the Rtor mountains in the south, and (according to legend) was founded by a Cytro-Samnite mutt with prophetic powers, who detected a great source of metal would be found here generations later. That's a local legend, anyway. It serves as Ctesiphod's main source of copper, major imports aside.

4: Varance is perfectly suited for both agriculture (at a point in the river which is very wide and shallow, with large semi-anually flooded wetlands) and the actual silt, mud and clay at the bottom of the river itself. Only recently is it considered a proper town (with a population of 2,000), and has been assigned a Rumen accordingly.

5: Aphod, a Cytrian settlement far older and far less important than Ctesiphod, it nonetheless has a large sense of pride at having out-lived it's 'parent' city-state in the west. Nestled between two small mountain peaks, although not much food can be grown here, it is the perfect place for sheep and goats to live, which are sheared and milked for wool and cheese. Limestone, a somewhat acidic and perhaps a little magical stone can be found here. It is primarily shuffled off to Ctesiphod on an overland route, but then shipped as far as Belleventum and Navrin.

1A: Phylo is considered more Ligurian than Cytrian, but recently it falls under Ctesiphoddic jurisdiction. Primarily olives, grain and other minor agricultural crop are yielded here.

2A: Jesric is considered the farthest-flung of the Samnite attempts at colonization, but also the biggest failure. It's prominent position high above the coast gives it a distinct attraction to immigrants, and it's massive herds and wild olives could prove a real payoff to anyone willing to tame them soon enough.

Part III: Vox Populi Magnalorum

d'Jango stretched his old bones. He looked out his window. His home was elevated over many others in the city. He had a clear view of the city walls, still long under construction. Since he left the project, plans for a second pair of walls had been commisioned. That leg of the construction's journey had yet to even start. That was many, many, many years off yet. He was proud to say the first walls completely surrounded the city now, however unfinished they might be.

"Sayoril, how is your tea?"

Sayoril Sylan had stayed with him after their very first encounter by the western section of the walls, so very, very many years ago.

"Green and hot as ever, d'Jango. How is yours?"

"Much the same, I'm afraid."

Smiling, he emptied his mug out the window, onto his garden immediately outside and down two stories.

"One thing I really hated about Cornith was the tendancy of people to throw their waste out the window. It would fall onto the street far below, splash everywhere cover anyone there. I much prefer low towns, in that way, because they dispose of their waste properly." d'Jango said.

"Very insightful. Maybe you should propose some new laws regarding that. Clean up the city, and what now."

A joke, but a serious reccomendation. Sayoril had a very dry sense of humor.

"I think not. Well, we shall see, but for now, I'm too busy processing all these law proposals that the citizens have asked for."

"Ever the people's man. Self-Made Man, Engineer, Statesman, Leader. Vox Populi."

Sayoril said, smiling.

"Sophia!" he called.

Sophia, a short, pretty girl popping her head in.

"Yes, Sayor?"

"Would you mind bringing up a new pot of tea?"

Sayoril asked.

"Certainly," she replied, leaving.

"N- Sophia!"

"Yes?" again popping from behind the ajar door.

"I meant a whole new kind of tea, please. Greenleaf has dominated this man's life for far too many decades. Would you mind running to the market?"

"Of course."

She said, smiling. She closed the door behind her.

"First Class Slave Sophia, from Sarkov. What a nice girl," d'Jango said.

"It's a good thing she didn't have to experience the treatment from before the slave reforms." Sayoril said.

"It's a good thing you didn't have to, Sayoril. You started off as a Third Class Slave, because you had a good master before I. There is no slave regulation in Cornith, or even Thebes or Athens for that matter. Be glad you were born in this priviledged part of the world."

"Very true, d'Jango. Thank you, by the way. I have never thanked you enough for what you did for me. What you did for yourself, and what you've done for this great city, and all the Rumen."

Sayoril finished his tea and bread.

"Think nothing of it. I just do to others what I'd want for myself, or my children."

Sayoril's eyes widened.

"You never told me you had children."

d'Jango chuckled.

"Oh, yes. They'd be about your age now. Two of them. This was a very long time ago, in a city-state far far away. Thebes, to be exact.

"Why, there's nothing you haven't been accused of, Magnalorum. Self-Made Man, Former Slave, Engineer, Statesman, Father, Rumen, Vox Populi. You've done it all."

"The universe takes all sorts."

2850-2800 BCE - Update 4

By the time of the Fifth Descendant of Nir Aram, Aramya’s war path and its ambitious expansionistic spirit had waned. The King of Fear and Fury had passed on, and left a new personification for Aramya to come to power. The Fifth Descendant was already in his 30s the time he was assented to be king, and the Sixth Descendant would rule the later part of that fifty year period.
The Fifth Descendant was inspired, a scholar and promoter of the arts and of diplomatic options. The King of Fear and Fury had impressed one crucial aspect of his child’s mind quite thoroughly, that the wars with Ortun continue. Otherwise the Fifth Descendant was quite a reasonable man, he personally produced works of literature from the wars with Ortun, which there were ample heroic stories to tell. He grew the intellectual class, and found himself far removed from the military officer class, which after generations of growing from the original junta of Nir Aram, had become a large portion of the bureaucracy. This gave the king much time to focus domestically. He sought the unification of Parush with Aramya, calling Paruhorsehockyes “honorary Leveans”. He pushed the people to decrease their racist hatred of foreigners, in an attempt to work with the new foreign town to the south.
The Fifth Descendant also allowed an intellectual freedom of the priestly class to develop the Kitabalist Pantheon by interpreting the knowledge of the past. Gods and goddesses were everywhere, intermingling, with stories of lust, love, revenge and even basic ideas of comedy being employed to strengthen the religious convictions of the people. Although economically Aramya had began to lag and plateau, they were meeting new contacts, they sent traders to visit the westward towards the Tribes of Israel, and kept in contact with the traders of Dakinsa Raj from trade through the far eastern town on the peninsula.

According to ancient tradition, the new world started 2,640 years ago. By the Cytrian Calendar (CC) many major events have corresponded with the major changes in years. For example, the great exodus started around 600 years ago, at the dying, final years of the second millenium. [*] A thousand years before that, a great flood was supposed to have engulfed the world. Countless other major events escaped the lights of history by having no significant (or easily rememberable) dates associated with them, but that is beside the point. Things come (and often, go) in awe-inspiring waves.

-4,000 CC: the first ancient wolf-shaman was supposed to have descended from the great 'mountain in the jungle'. What this is a reference to, modern historians do not and cannot know.

100 CC: a great 'yellow armed enemy' descended from the sky to ravage the sheep and women of the cytrians and windsorians. It is believed today that this legacy refers to a proto-mongoloid people sending mass raiding parties as far west as Iran.

500 CC: the 'greatest evil' was expelled from a cytrian camp by a boy wielding a shining sword. This might be in reference to the very first copper or bronze tools and weapons used by cytrians.

1000 CC: the 'great flood' forced the cytrians westward over the mountains to safety.

2,000 CC: The 'great exodus' begins as the cytrians flee their new homeland, in search of, you guessed it, a new homeland.

2430 CC: the town of Ctesiphod is founded on the Rtas river.

[*] Rising tensions between the Cytrians and their sister tribes the Windsorians (now believed to have gone extinct shortly after the break) caused the Cytrians to head southwest from their origins, en masse, to find their eventual home in the Valyrian peninsula, crossing over from the Cytrian Peninsula, from which they got their current name.




The year is 214 SC.

Or, more precisely, it is between the years 2,640-2,641, CC. According to my father.

It is the 12th day of the third month of summer, and I am stuck listening to a lecture, in this hot, stuffy house.

"...the time the Nicatta O'Rannash realized what had happened..."

All of these history lessons your parents drum into your head? Yeah, worth nothing. I found a rock the other day and traded it for a fish. See? Eyesight, worth something. Fish, worth something,

"...and then they charged, illustrated by this series of figurines I've carved and lain out in a row. Here, you take command of the Agamene, I'll take the..."

This will never get me anything. The only thing I can think of to do with all of this information is to dribble it into my kids when I eventually get there.

"...'Ahh, bloody murder, bloody murder', he screamed, clutching at his chest. Now, tell me, son, can you tell me why the poisoner had attacked the Nicatta? What he had done? Was it because he was the philanderer people..."

Ancestors, I hate this so much. Please deliver me from this hell; forgive me for I have sinned and accept me into your loving, caring arms once more. Grandfather, if you can hear me, strike me down now.

"...here, take this sword, we'll fight and re-enect that final bloody scene between King Sarlov and the Saminite champion Filchwater Dogooder II, at the Fifth Siege of Samnite. En garde, touche, ACHK I AM SLAIN!!"

Nothing. Fine. Whatever. I'll just sit here and focus on my breathing to escape this torture.

"...and that concludes today's history lesson. Any questions?"

"I HATE YOU YOU'RE NOT MY REAL DAD."

I wish to be where Axum historically was

To late, I gave you three days to say that.

Never mind, I'm going to redraw all my trade routes, the barbs, and such, because a NES is for the player. Look out for the fixed map soon.

I have no Internet on my pc so attempts at story telling might be lesser. Also orders may be late.

Beautiful is it not? There lies Sarkov, undisputed powerhouse, conqueror, and protector of all Vallarvalian people on the Valyrian peninsula. We have conquered much over the past couple of centuries, ruthlessly cutting down our enemies, but now it is time for peace and prosperity to take hold upon our nation. This account was dictated by King Markrov the First of his name to be written about our fair nation... and so we shall.

At the seven hills of Vallarvale, the glorious capital city of Sarkov rises out of the mists, a testament to the hard work and dedication of the Sarkovian people to better their fare city. At Sarkov, the central training grounds for the glorious soldiers of the nation are located, churning out a massive number of reinforcements for the Sarkovian people in their many wars as of late. With the recent mandate of peace, these training grounds have fallen mainly silent, though still the occasional warband is trained for battle at this location. With the capitulation of the Samnites recently though, trade routes have opened back up between the two nations, as well with the Ctyrian people at their fortress-city farther to the North.

Nova Samnia has a rather unique history all things considered. The Samnite slaves that had been captured in a large and long lasting series of wars had been slaves for almost ninety years under the Sarkovian banner until King Sarlov I ordered their freeing and the manumitting of the slaves. Nova Samnia was originally just a small trade town along the coast line, but it was dictated to be one of the three towns where Samnite slaves could be relocated. With the massive influx of population, Nova Samnia is a populous and peaceful place where trade and production are the central aspects of this location.

On the gentle coasts of the Northern Valarian Sea, the city of Verlinschva has long prospered under Sarkovite rule in the region. Another town converted to a city after the hordes of Samnites that were newly freed swept in, Verlinschva is a quiet trading port on the Northern Valarian Sea, and with peace now established it can finally resume trading with the Samnites and the Ctyrian people. Verlinschva also houses the entire Sarkovite Navy of ten dedicated curragh warships, with an additional housing of hundreds of fishing skiffs that are relatively useless against a powerful enemy but still a presence that seeks to overwhelm others through sheer numbers.

Vikersmount is another large coastal city filled with Samnites from their freeing, and has long prospered from the trade upon the seas as well as bringing almost nine tenths of the supply of fish and other seaborne food that the Sarkovites eat. Vikersmount has been relatively untouched by the war except for levies and soldiers called up to march south against the Samnite threat when it was still present, but other than that the city has prospered. Tentatively, the governor of the city is reaching out to Liguria to possibly open trade, though his efforts have currently been meant in vain.

Farther to the south along the coastline, the last major city of Sarkov is Caperin, bastion city and a large staging area for the initial Southward Bound operations that General Sylman the Strong executed to bring much of Samnia under Sarkovian banners. The city has been scarred by some Samnite resistance before the finally peace treaty and capitulation agreement was signed, but it still remains strong. One of the prominent landmarks of the city is the statue of Sylman the Strong, which is often the most visited part of the city. On Heroes Day, the statue is decked out in stone armor and weaponry, as candles are laid at the feet of the long dead hero himself. Caperin is fiercely nationalistic for it's nation, and is not interested in surrendering easily or happily if wars come to it's doors.

Even farther to the south is the large town of Navarin. Navarin was another staging area during the Sarkov-Samnite war decades ago and remnants and evidence are still present from siege engines to the large camp facilities that were dug in around the town. Relatively untouched by the war compared to other cities and towns, Navarin is trying to open up trade and trying to prosper with an influx of goods from the Southronn people, but so far their efforts have as well been in vain. Not all of Sarkov are bloodthirsty people. Just most of us. Actually, all of us.

Wrested from Samnite control early on during the Sarkov-Samnite war, the town of Jarlsven stands as a testament to the tenacity and fighting courage of the people of Samnia. The city was damaged heavily during the fighting for it, and afterwards as the losses mounted heavily, Sylman the Strong ordered the purging of a quarter of the city as a show of force, as well as the destruction of another two quarters. With seventy five percent of the city devestated by this harsh reprisal, it is just now that the people are managing to rebuild. With supplies and building material from the king's own stores, the people are managing to rebuild the city to it's former glory and power brick by brick by brick.

Heavy fighting also claimed the city of Kora-Torr after long and dragged out battles. This place showed heavier resistance than even Jarlsven, though Sylman the Strong wasn't at the scene to burn out the city. Kora-Torr's heavy resistance and rampant sabotage raids after the battle scarred and pockmarked the city heavily with rampant destruction as the Samnites tried to push the Sarkovite masters out of the area. Both sides suffered heavy losses, with the wandering Samnite warbands that prowled the area suffering heavier losses than Sarkov. As with Jarlsven, the city of Kora-Torr is starting to be rebuilt up to it's former glory once again.

Musings of a Kamil Noble.

People often ask me of my grandfather. I did not even know him, he passed into the mountain when I wasn't even a year old. They all know his story, it must be out of nostalgia that they ask me. I tell them what my father told me. My grandfather, the first Torasetar, the Red-Haired, came to this land as a gift from Ziril. He brought the wishes of Ziril to the people, and in many cases, changed society – for the better, of course.

Sometimes they ask about the creation of Zirilwine. I tell them this story:

Upon tasting the wine of Wearam, it is claimed that the legendary hair of Torasetar began to wave, as though possessed by a force. It is said that at that moment, Torasetar proclaimed "This wine is from the home of Ziril. It's secrets were stolen long ago. Ziril punished the thief, yet let the secret stay known to man. I give Thanks to Ziril's kindness for this great gift". This would later lead to the saying "I gave my life up for the wine". It is sometimes followed with "so that my children could have a taste of power". Torasetar decided to bring the process of winemaking back to Toras. In Torasetar's later years, annual celebrations involing wine, grapes, and the blessing of Ziril brought many, including peasants, slaves, kudusts, and prospective winemakers from across the island to Toras. Every celebration, Torasetar would proclaim a winemaker as the Winermaker of Ziril until the next year.

Other times they ask about my lineage. The people are always interested that Torasetar took multiple wives. It is of note, both my uncle, and now my cousin, have only taken a single wife. The kutamziril claims that the will of Ziril was most present in the first Torasetar – and that by taking many wives, he would spread that will, that blessing. We, on the other hand, being of a the next generation, already have that blessing diminished. It is still with us, of course, but it is not nearly as strong as grandfather's.

My grandfather took five wives. Thrasna, Loorae, Farana, Aerasa and Kamila. His first child, my uncle Etar, the Torasetar II, was born to Aerasa. My grandmother was Kamila. The children of the five wives each became a noble family of their own – taking their mother's name as their family name – Thras, Loor, Faran, Aeras and Kamil. Although Aeras is the leading family, we are all descended equally from Torasetar – and the people recognize this. My wife sometimes asks me if I would ever challenge my cousins right to Torasetar – and that I would have the support of many kudusts. I couldn't do that though – it is not Ziril's will. And I am Her servant, and servant to Her voice. I am servant to the Torasetar.



The dying old ways

The old man took a sip of wine, put the mug down, reclined onto a seat, and closed his eyes. A young boy, sitting across from him, stared expectantly. A moment passed, and the youth kept as silent as the night. “So you wish to learn of the old ways?”. The old man's eyes were still closed “You know that the Torasetar will brand you as a heretic. There is no turning back once you relearn the ways of the other spirits”. The youth continued to stare. Another moment passed. “Very well”, the man began to open his eyes, “I will tell you of the other spirits.” The man took a last sip of wine. “Before the Angering, Ziril was a spirit like any other, and she was no more important than the others. It was when the mountain smoked and the ground shook, that our people became frightened. In their fear, they began to worship Ziril. They did not wish to anger her again. The other spirits had not displayed their own power to the extent of Ziril, and so the people became obsessed with Ziril. The other spirits were still acknowledged then.” The man sighed. “It was with the coming of Red-Hair that Ziril started to become exclusively worshipped. The manifestation of Ziril's power convinced many that the other spirits were weak. In the first years of his rule, Red-Hair allowed the other spirits to be prayed to. As his years began to show, and the cleanings becoming fewer, they began to turn against us – forcing us to accept that Ziril was the only spirit. My family fled, and evaded capture.” The man slightly smirked. “I am their living testament, and you, in time, will continue this legacy.”.



Torasetar III at Zirilwine

Torasetar III looked out from his palace's porch. It wasn't really a palace, just the largest house in Toras. Stories of great states of the north were spreading south. These stories came after the incursions onto Exile's Island, to cleanse heresy. One of the stories told of a great house for their High Chief – a palace. Torasetar didn't have the time to think of creating a grand palace though. Not today, and not for the coming weeks. He had a campaign to manage.

It was the week of Zirilwine, and there was more than just wine to attend to. Torasetar had sent specific invitations to the chiefs of the settlements of Scanas, to the west, and to Erias, to the north-east. It was Torasetar's hope that he could convince them to accept his religous, and political authority. The people of Scanas had unofficially accepted him as their religious leader. The people of Erias however, were a little more heretical. Torasetar was willing to offer them protection from hostile tribes, as well as establish generous trade routes. He would also speak of the will of Ziril – that she had sent his grandfather to this land to unite the people, so that they would not again warrant her wraith. Torasetar III being the legitimate successor to the will.

Torasetar paced along his porch. It was just a matter of time before the chiefs would arrive – his scouts had told him that the chiefs of both settlements would arrive today. Torasetar had prepared offerings to each chief. Some of the wine that Torasetar the Red-Haired himself had brewed, years previous, was one offering. The betrothal of two of his children, one to each of a child of the two chiefs, was the other. This had been discussed in the past, but nothing was yet agreed upon. If agreement could not be reached... Torasetar would make sure they would submit. Torasetar stopped pacing. He saw a group approaching, and recognized a tall man amongst them as the chief of Scanas. It was time.

The world as it was known to Torasetar III

((I shortened it considerably so I wouldn't bore you people to death. ))
This story is one of the history of our region. It is to make sure that essential information does not disappear with time.
The Armorican Chronicle
0 BAC - The beginning of my father, King Cunneda's reign. His reign lasted to 51 BAC.
11 BAC - Marked the year of the Great raid of Wenefed. It ended up turning into a conquest as the neighboring tribes moved in on their territory.
41 BAC - Marked the year that the Chieftain Vortimer surrendered to King Cunneda.
51 BAC - The death of the first king of the Osismied and the beginning of my reign.
61 BAC - Two major events happened this year.


74 BAC - A map of the known world was drawn.

75 BAC - This year marked the beginnings of agriculture in the previous lands of the Riedoned and Namneted.
87 BAC - my brother with a group of twenty followers took a curragh and sailed West. They never returned home.((-1 curragh))
94 BAC - I handed the throne over to my son, Derfel II.
95 BAC - My son Derfel II, made a change that I think is a very good idea. He has set up a lord controlling every city. Each lord controls their own city and answers to the king.
97 BAC - The first piece of the Chronicle of Armorica was written.
98 BAC - The death of my father Derfel I.

If it is too much trouble, I can stay where I am, though I would prefer to be moved to my historical location.

The Second Dynasty of Anor – Dynasty of Ra (only from 97-149, more later)
Nahan Ra First-of-Ra 97-121
The first True Pyramid will always be remembered as a feat of extreme greatness that Nahan have commanded. He was buried in what at the time was the largest construct of human origin. His three attempts will always be looked at as the way Egypt achieved its golden age. Yet his great architectural achievements have been a very large stress on the economy. It has not grown much in his days. The raids of Nubians and Libyans also increased in his days and he did not succeed in holding them back most of the time. Raids into Canaan begun under his rule but will only reach their fullest (and foolest?) under his son. Nahan redesigned the provinces of Egypt and worked hard to put a family member as a head of each and every province of Egypt. Nahan's final work was the design of a great temple complex to Ra in Anor to match the complex to Osiris in Thebes. This slow move from Osiris to Ra will continue under his son as well. Nahan died in battle against a Libyan force in the western deserts and was quickly brought to his pyramid to be buried in a great ceremony.

King Nafer Ultimate-Ra 121-149
Nafer begun his rule with increasing the number of raids into Canaan. Through his entire lifetime he will not listen to his advisers on the subject of the rising powers in Canaan and will continue to send blind raids. His mind set that Egypt is the greatest of all and that he his chosen by Ra himself to be king of all will not allow him to begin trade with the Canaanites on a large scale and will continue Egypt's economic stagnation. Unlike his father Nafer fared much better against the Libyan raiders and will even go as far as to conquer two Libyan towns along two oasis in the area. Nafer saw these two settlements as belonging to Egypt and also brought colonists from lower Egypt to settle in those cities. Those accepted to this small colonization effort received great benefits from the king and his ever lasting thanks.

Nafer did not continue his wars on the Libyans. After several years of desert fightings Nafer left a garrison in his two new cities and moved back to Anor to prepare for his burial. He believed Ra will soon take him to the afterlife because of an Egyptian priest's prophecy that he will become one with Ra soon. Nafer moved his builders to Giza, north of Anor, where he laid down the largest base ever seen for a structure. His pyramid, Great of Giza, will always be the largest ever built among all kings of Egypt, and after him their size will do nothing more than shrink. Another of Nafers great feats was the constructing of his father's Temple Complex design in Anor. He continued to religious reforms, allowing many more gods to grow in power but always kept the priests of Ra the most fed. Under his rule the cult of Bast, a cult of hedonistic fun lovers grew but he always managed to keep it down.

After finishing his pyramid Nafer did not die. Many believed that the huge pyramid was a sign that Nafer was in fact Ra himself, incarnated into a human body with no memories of his past. At that time Nafer moved south to wage wars on the Nubian rising city states. His constant fighting with them kept Nubian growth at bay and kept Egypt as the only and greatest power on the Nile.

Under Nafer's rule red sea merchants sailed southwards eventually meeting with small cities and towns on the coast of Axum. Trade built up with those cities and the nation of Axum traded highly regarded luxuries with Egypt. More trade was done through the mythical land of Punt further south. Nafer's pyramid was said to contain never ending amounts of luxury goods from the red sea trade routes. It is amazing to note that Nafer never had anything to do with this trade. Nafer believed Egypt is to conquer everything and so did not give any care to trade with outsiders. It was private Entrepreneurs that kept the trade routes functional. Nafer only managed the Nile routes that moved through his nation. The Canaanite, Libyan and Axumite routes were managed fully by private people. While some may see this as a good thing, for Egypt's very centralized economy this was bad news. While single people became richer and stronger the state as a whole, and the king's coffers were not being filled with anything new other than the usual taxes and inner routes. With Nafer's great architectural feats, Egypt's economy continued to slowly stagnate because of the economic stressh the building pf monuments required. Egypt's economy was still more powerful than ever, and did slowly grow, but the stress will leave an ever lasting tear on Egypt.

Trade routes in year 147, near the end of Nafer's reign


Nafer was a great king to his country. He built magnificent buildings and conquered enemies that raided Egypt. Yet as a father Nafer failed miserably. Constantly lecturing to his son about the greatness of Egypt and the importance of unity made his son less interested in the subject. His son begun to hate his father. When his father designed the Pschent, the unified crown of Egypt, and commanded his son to manufacture it while on his deathbed he have created a king that will be different than all those before him. Instead of his lectures and the priests of Ra, what will attract his son, Raas, the most will be the hedonistic cult of Bast. Luckily for Egypt this will not last long.

Another character of high importance in Nafer's time was his daughter, Terefti. Unlike her brother she will listen and learn her father's words and will eventually bring Egypt back on track.

King Raas Greatness-of-Bast 149-154
When Nafer died no one expected things to change. Raas was coronation in Anor's Temple Complex to Ra as expected and his vizier, Tauri, expected orders to continue the war on Nubia and Libya, the order to construct Pschent, orders to build more temples... Yet none arrived. After coronation Raas did not agree to see the vizier. For ten days the only people he agreed to see were random women and men that entered his room, as well as priests of Bast. Rumors went around that Raas is having parties, parties of the cult of Bast. Hedonistic events where sex and drinking were constant and blood was sometimes spilled. The rumors were true. Raas was a deep follower of the cult and used the palace in Anor to host the religious so called “ceremonies”, feasts of nothing but joy. Within a month the palace was in a terrible shape. The parties were constant and the garbage was piling.

Raas spoke with the priests of Bast for fixing the situation. They suggested building a new Palace, grander than this one. A palace with very large rooms where the festivities can last forever. They also suggested the king will buy slaves, hundreds of slaves, for ceremonial reasons but also for cleaning reasons. King Raas found the idea pleasing. Plans were made, schematics were painted, a Palace was to be built. Yet the location was not sure. When Raas finally called his vizier to give him the orders, the vizier remained amazed. In Nafer's times he would never have imagined it would come. Yet Raas amazed the elite when he declared the palace will be built in Avaris! Many were afraid, would this mean Anor will be left behind, forgotten? Will Avaris become the capital of Egypt? How will the royal families at Demeitta and Thebes accept this? How Raas plans to keep the country whole from so far away?

And more questions remained. Under Raas the army had to deal with the enemies of Egypt all by itself. Orders were not given. The army barely managed to fight off Nubians and Libyans with no financial support from the kings. The generals became weary of the king, angry with the king and the king showed no care for the situation. The vizier was forced to do the bidding of the king but at the same time contacted the generals to discuss the situation. Whether Raas knew of this or not doesn't seem to matter. Within a few days he left Anor to Avaris to look over the construction of his Palace and for sleeping he remained in the temple of bast at the city.

After a few months the new palace was taking shape. Raas never seemed to give orders to declare Avaris his new capital, and the royaly, including his sister Terefti and her son, remained in Anor, worried for the future of Egypt. Pressure from Nubia increased. One good thing that begun was that with no orders to raid Canaan the army allowed merchant to pass freely and the trade network strengthened. Clashes between Canaanite and Egyptian forces became fewer and fewer until a final border was agreed by the high general in the area and the Canaanite forces. Avaris became filled with Canaanite traders, and others, stranger traders from far away unknown lands. The palace that was taking shape was finally ready to house King Raas who entered the palace in a great event he himself designed. The Jubilee of the king, a birthday party of sorts, was declared and for a week Avaris remained in festivities. After they ended Raas remained in his palace, gave no orders other than to buy more luxuries, drinks and slaves. The coffers were finally under stress. Luckily, his father, believed terrible years will come, and was right. What his father saved only barely paid for King Raas's spending.


But this was not all. For a few years Egypt remained leaderless. In Thebes voices of rebellion were heard. Without a Thebean royal family (that was destroyed a long time ago by Osirion) the priests of Osiris were the ones behind the rumors. Raas apparently knew of this talks of Thebes breaking away but had no care for them. All he cared for was his own private enjoyment, his hedonistic needs. He probably fathered hundreds of children at his years in control to many different random women. The priests of Bast were happy as well. Their temples were filled with gifts in return for their festivals. All was wrong.

It was Terefti that was to make a change. She contacted the vizier and learned of his discussions with the generals. She begun to scheme. If King Raas would be toppled from his throne with death the people would lose faith in the king forever and no longer see him as a god who can do no wrong and so a plan was made to have Terefti rule from behind the curtains. She managed the forces and gave to the temples of other gods. The priests in Thebes who planned to seced were gone from the scene within an year. Egypt was stable, but the king remained King Raas.

While she was in control she also managed to convince her brother, at a not uncommon moment of heavy drinking, to nominate her son as heir. She named him Nahan II after the great Nahan Ra. For a few years things continued, until the vizier and queen no longer accepte4d the situation. A bottle of beer was poisoned and sent to Avaris. King Raas, who begun a tradition of never drinking twice from the same bottle and so drank from every bottle first, drank from the poisoned bottle and died later in the day.

He did build a Pyramid, north of Giza, not wanting to be buried near his father. His pyramid was large but not very important. His days mostly strengthened trade with Canaan and the temples of bast. While unification was somewhat hurt by the building of a palace in Avaris, this was unimportant and only allowed in the end the strengthening of the royal family at Anor and of temples across the country. In times of need people turned to the many different gods, strengthening tradition and religion. The royal family in Anor also grew and strengthened from their influence in Raas reign. Perhaps Raas rule was no so bad...?

spaceman98 said:

If it is too much trouble, I can stay where I am, though I would prefer to be moved to my historical location.

Click to expand...

It's ok. I'll move it. Just have to twiddle the routes a bit and rework the calculations. Not that much trouble.

Great job everyone.

Orders due WEDNESDAY, Deadline FRIDAY, Update hopefully next WEEKEND as we start winter break.

Also, considering switching economic system to this: 5/1 (1/3/1)-1
As Income/Banked (Urban/Rural/Trade)-Upkeep

What do you guys think? It will help me keep track of growing trade routes while making Economic Centers still relatively scarce.

The armies of Xilaroi continued to surge forward against the Zhangat defenses, only to fail each and every time. The Xilaroi weakness against arrows were seen repeatedly on their rushes towards the earthen walls. No siege equipment was given, forcing the Long spears to attempt to scale the walls with ladders. Even if they succeeded in climbing up them, they find that their weapons are too unwieldy to use on the narrow parapets and the multi-layered defense, and especially not against the strange, furious axes some of the militia are wielding. Nontheless, casualties were high on both sides, and the Xilaroi made some progress, if you can call it that.



The Zhangat themselves go into a fortification frenzy. Forts were built at every pass, at every gate. Bridges across the Yellow River were destroyed, dikes from the ancient era were broken to sweep away invaders, and they drove themselves in a fury of self defense. Even then, it wasn’t enough.


For the Xiong finally found a pass through the mountains. They pushed aside the local nomads and crushed a Zhangate city. Zhangat responded by destroying the bridges leading to their southern territories and filling the mountain passes back with rubble. However, even now, the Xiong warriors are enslaving Chinese peasants to clear away the walls. Zhangat furiously shifts reinforcements across the only bridge, heavily fortified, they allowed to remain as the Xiong and the Xilaroi converge.



On a final note, the Xiong owe Xilaroi even more for the fact that the Emperor supported one side during a brief civil war. After the Youngest Khagan became Khan, he cleverly poisoned any claimant who didn’t declare for him immediately and became the Silent Emperor’s equally silent protégé.



At the end of this period, a strange disease emerged from the siege camps of the Xilaroi, presumably furthered by the hunger there, and quickly spread throughout the region, killing many and wounding more.




New Tribes are Rising!
The Atyrians used to be one of the wandering tribes of the Black Sea, all of whom tell graphic tales of the Great Flood, of a fresh water lake turning into a voracious saltwater sea eating up all the villages and land it can reach.

It was trade from Troy which slowly brought Atyria into prominance. While many other tribes have also traded wheat for bronze weapons or tools across the Black Sea, Atyria also contols the trade of other tribes behind them. With this trade they grew wealthier than any other black-sea wheat-state and is facing a new era.



Note: Fixed Axum for you. . Have fun guys.

Perhaps the ancestors of the Cytrians. We, too, tell stories of a great eastern flood.

Terrance, I sent my orders already. Do you have them?

Yup. . The thing is much of the world is now connected, so although I can do the internal section for you, I can't adjust the trade routes until, well, after I get everyone's orders.

So working on comparably isolated areas. Also guys, please label TerraNES Turn X Orders: Nation X please! I'm getting a little lost