Absolution 4: Tabula Rasa

Hey,

The Coming of the Hanghui.(scientific/guild)

The small table once again sat in the open air. Sun shone down on its ancient stained surface and beautifully carved dragon details. It had been made generations ago for the father of the Heavenly Dragon Kingdom, King Shushi. The table had been witness to many great moments of wisdom in history. Today was another of those moments in time.

"I have thought on the matters for which each of you have pleaded." Emperor Shifang said using a wave of his hand to acknowledge each of the five greatest Masters of crafting in the Empire. "I believe that the Wisdom of the Dragon should be kept in our control as well as the profits from such wisdom." He motioned for tea to be served. "Therefore, I give each of you permission to create Hanghui or guilds." He motioned for retainers to present 5 blank animal skin books. "It will be your duty to organize the five industries based on the Fishing Clan structure." He pointed to each of the large book stacks infront of the Masters. "With in these books will be wrote your individual organization sturcture." The Emperor took a long drink of his tea. "Your craft processes and variations of your craft. Copies of these books, which you will purchase, will be returned to me." He put his tea bowl down on a stain rumored to have been left by the great mechant Hu Jue. "After which I will then grant you authority to control and enforce the trade of each of your Hanghui. You will be granted ownership of tools and the supply of materials needed.

Each of the five Masters greedily nodded there acceptance.

"Make no mistake, Masters." Emperor Shifang said commandingly. "Your Hanghui. Your power and wealth." He stood motioning for the Masters to stand. "It is all a gift that I can take away."


ESg01

The smell of her

(Commercial Story: Land of the Sun (Trade Good: Fragrances))

-

It was in Ur that I first caught the smell of her, so sweet, light, but delicious. She was in the market square and I was a trader, she held a scarf over her face as the dust screamed through the city aloft in the deafening wind.

But the smell cut through the sandstorm, wispy and magical. I left my stall at once and followed her.

She went through alleys and back ways, I often did not see her but I followed the smell alone. Deeper and deeper into the city I wandered without any knowledge of the place.

Little surprise when I found her that she was in the company of robbers. They waved knives and greatly frightened me. But the smell kept my trance alive, I handed them my coinpurse and even after they left I stood for a moment, wondering if I ought to still follow the smell, try to track her down yet. Not as revenge, but only to marvel at her scent.

It was also little surprise when I finally found my way back to the cart that it had also been robbed. I thought of it for a moment, as though I ought to be angry. But the only thought my head could muster was a memory of a smell.

Hey,

Lady Ling and the Secret Silk. (scientific NT Subterfuge/Trade Good Silks)

The small cloaked man stayed to the shadows as he worked his way across the star lite garden. He had been given a special mission by the old Grand-General Yongrui on his death bed.

"You must bring that to Lady Ling." The old man coughed up blood. His personal acupuncturist trying his best to relieve the pain. "Back you torturer!" Yongrui pushed the attendant away, blood from his mouth sprayed the cowering man. He struggled to sit upright. "That package carries Dragon Wisdom that must be keep under the strictest secrecy." Again taken by a bloody coughing fit, the Grand-General pointed at the long wooden, bronze reinforced, three locked box. "Captain Zhiqiang you must use your skills learned in defeating the warlords to get that to Lady Ling."

And that's what Captain Zhiqiang had done. He used all his skill to make it to the garden. During the war he had been given the task of finding and harassing the warlords on their own lands. Early on it was just ambushes and kidnappings. As time went on Zhiqiang excelled at planning even more elaborate missions.

Two of his more famous adventures were even told of in the Tales of the South, the Vanquishing of Barbarity. In the first Zhiqiang learned of the route a particular troublesome warlord. At a point in the route where the warlord would have to cross a deep river he dammed the river upstream. The lowered water had allowed the warlord to cross mounted. Once the warlord reached the middle of the river, the dam was holed causing a massive wave of broken lumber to sweep the corpses down river. The second detailed his quick learning of a southern language and dressing as a barbarian to enter a warlords camp deep in the mountains to steal its winter supplies. He not only returned with the foodstuffs, but with a princess and a unit of loyal warriors.

"Come out Captain Zhiqiang, I have known of your location since you left Nan Lu." Lady Ling said playfully standing between two masked, dark clothed guards.

"Yes your highness." He said taking the package from his back, he appeared from the shadows. "Grand-General Yongrui has sent me here to personally give you this." He moved forward setting the package on the ground at her feet as he knelt before her.

"I have studied your methods." With a wave of her hand servant children ran through the garden lighting lanterns. Soon the garden was a glow and they were once again alone. "I look forward to more details on them." She picked up the package and walked over to sit on a wooden bench. "Please take Captain Zhiqiang to the kitchen." She motioned for both guards to do the job. "He must be hungry after such a long journey."

Lady Ling slowly unwrapped the leather bindings. Her hands began to shake a little as she took the three bronze keys from under the fur around her neck. She opened the locks and lifted the lid. In the box was a letter and a leather pouch. She took the letter out and read it.

A most honorable greeting Lady Ling. The location has been secured. The knowledge of what is needed and the methods to produce silk is now yours. I am sure there is no other place in the world this fabric can be made.

Lady Ling set the letter down and opened the pouch. Her eyes enlarged with joy as she took the many silk ribbons out of there hiding place. "Thank you Uncle Yongrui." She said giggling with glee as she rubbed the smooth silk over her cheek.




LLsSo1

Jocasta admired the new pottercraft coming out of the workship. Intricately molded, carved and painted, it still amazes her that mere clay can be made into items ranging from a simple bowl, to a fierce sculpture, to even an ornate bracelet inlaid with gold.

For herself, she brought a carved and painted broach inlaid with gold, admiring its detailed curves and its resistance to minor damage. If you looked carefully, at the center of each dot you can even see a design of another broach... and she was sure that if she had a way to stare deeper into the design she can find another broach within that one. It simply fractures her mind to think about the skill and dedication a craftsman takes when one knows the effort would be pretty much permanent other than deliberate destruction.

She was walking towards Krunner's workshop, where he retired too. "I'm getting too old for this" he gasped after leading his Rangers into the thicket of pikes. But then, she thinks that he just enjoys telling War Stories to little kids who often were seen around his house.

Today, however, there were no sign of any of the little tramps. Today, there is a blazing fire in the middle of the small hut.

"What are you doing!" she cried, cringing from the heat pouring from the charcoaled wood. The sound of hammering copper filled the air with its distinctive "tssssk, tssssk" as the great hammer came down upon the rod of copper.

At the sound of her voice, the hammer paused. The huge man, shielded by wet leather smocks and a face mask, placed the copper rod into the pottercraft crucible above the roaring flames. A mumbled, "Jocasta! What are you doing here?" came from beneath the mask as the man stumbled outisde. Then, he pulled the sticky protection off with a sickening slurp.

"Krunnr! What are you doing!" demanded Jocasta.

"I was just boiling some copper" he shrugged, "The crucible is full of that stuff. Pretty useful."

"What?"

"Yeah, I put the ores inside the potterscraft until the copper melts, then I gather a bit of it at a time for crafting."

"..."

Krunnr shifted a bit as Jocasta stared at her widemouthed. He was wondering if he should ask her to kneel down as long as she looked lik...

"Krunnr, have you heard of molds?"

"Huh?" he asked, shaking away the dirty thoughts.

"What if we make a mold with clay, and poured the molten copper into it?" she started again. "Heck! Maybe we can do it with gold too!"

"Not sure about doing it copper" replied the old general, "It tends to form clumps unless I mix some of these miner's dust from Sudan, and that's expensive."

"So what? Come, I can open the treasury for you, we're going to go to the Farseer about this!"

"Awwwww"

"OK! I will go to that date of yours."

"With perfume?"

"With perfume."

"YAY!"

"Now lets get going!"


To the Land of the Sun

The tales of your great fragrances are entrancing, and we must prevent our people from walking into the ocean to get at it because, you know, most of our people can't breath water. I would like to trade some gold, or even some Potterscraft, in exchange for your wonderful perfumes.

Jocasta would be excellent paired with some New Incense (not Old Spice!), maybe I can throw in a free night with her as well in the deal?

To: Satura
From: The Land of the Sun

:sigh: I do not share the faith, but many of my citizens are worshippers of the stones. They cry out for Ritual Urns and my position in their hearts is not so stable that I would deny them their desires.

To: Zulappi
From: Land of the Sun

My people cry out for your Ritual Urns, might I convince you to trade some for my fragrances?

To The Land of the Sun

At least your people fondle their long, pointy, thick clay "urns" with their wives in the privacy of their homes. Unlike somepeople we know. We completely understand your need to satisfy your feminine population's need for these urns as their males work much too hard under the worship of the stones to satisfy their women. That, I think, is the true purpose of these Urns.

It is good to know that at least one ruler can satisfy his queen/consort without any aid.

Diplomacy... [Cultural]

To Merchant Lord Raspous II III

The Headless Messenger, as people of his position were often called*, had insisted on riding his Crocodile into the very throne room/office/party room of the Merchant Lord of the Land of the Sun. He spoke in a quiet, almost gravelly voice, as if pretending to be headless.

"I come bearing a messege dictated and sent by His Majesty, His Most Pious Excellency, Dispatcher of Prideful and Somewhat Rude (But Not Really So because it is to Lesser Inferiors (Double Negative does not apply)) Messeges, Shaman the Shaman."

He gasped for air.

"Our most profoundest of apologies to your Grace the current ..Sun leader guy? ..but our maps seem rather lacking of your recent claims. Where, exactly, does your dominion end in the Arabiaze?"

Shortly afterwards, he fed his messege (scrolled on Papaya, afterall) to his apparently vegetarian Crocodile, and produced another from his Massive Headless Messenger Robe(TM).

"Why don't they send all of their messeges with one runner? No, I don't care, it's rude. Stop writing this down. We can't use this gag again. Your fragrances sound like a wonderful, harmless luxury our people would adore, and we will gladly help people of our Religion cope with their inability to come to our fold. Let the Trade run free!"


To Huzzah..? Huzz-hen of the City of Peace

"A messege from his Most Pious Excellency and Peaceful Mother****er, Shaman the Shaman."

"We have noted that the supply of Linens coming from your most distant, highly enlightened culture** has dwindled in the past few years. We feel it is time to re-negociate the eternal ties between our many merchants. Would you like to continue trading Linens for Zulappi Beer?"


To Pharon the Farseer

The Headless Messenger spat at the feet of the Saturan Ambassador, as was customary of Satura-Zulappi diplomatic meetings. The Saturans long ago learned that no matter how much persuasion they tried, the Zulappi insisted that was how they greeted all emmisaries, Saturan or not.

"A messege from the most Cultured Foot-Spitter, His Pious Excellency, Shannon Shaman the Shaman.

"Why have you begun down-saying our Urns? Obviously your pathetic, inferiorly-named Potterscraft (Obviously plagiarized from the boy Potter who had first ritualized the Urn making industry in Zulappi) is inferior and pathetic. Our coffers brim from trade with the Land of the Sun, True Merchants All, nere a greedy one amongst them, while your Potterscraft has been rejected. Surely, take this as a sign [Instruct: Spit on his feet agai"--

"Oh,"

The Messenger spat at the Ambassador's feet.

"That you should halt your attempts at undercutting superior Zulappi Industries."






*In fact they were just stupid; not perhaps headless in the strictest of terms, however the intimidation effect of 'stupid messengers' was lost on all but the stupid.

**Ish.

Shinestone; The boon of winter?; A history [Scientific]

It had been a long, hard, cold winter.

One soldier had reported getting cold. Twice.

Undershaman Bill [bill] had said he saw a bird flying.

Undershaman Nathanordorne [na-tha-nor-daeiouyr-nie] had lit a fire using his new Zulappi-Tech Flint Stones(TM), copyright of Zulappi-Tech, Inc.

The beastly, unwieldy flame had grown as his men, the baby Undershamans, as they were jokingly called (though in reality they were, in fact, barely yet toddlers) had thrown Ritual Urns full of Zulappi Death Beer and Saturan Tears(TM), copyright of Zulappi-Tech, Inc on the fire.

Slowly it built and built, growing minute after minute, hour after hour, until at last it scorched the very top of the sky itself. The Undershaman Nathanordorne was finally certain that the winter would never come back again. He let the fire die down.

A week passed, a year. The winter had not come.

The Undershaman Nathanordorne returned to the spot on the anniversary (roughly) of the fire.

He sat down in contemplation. The ground was hard. He shifted, and chose a different spot.

After a few moments, he found himself staring down at the spot he had previously left. He didn't know why, but he couldn't look away.

It was shining, as if the fire had hallowed the ground and made it a paradise for stones.

No, that could not be; there was nothing divine about Flame; it was an unthinking, destructive force of nature.

He bad his Workers to come and dig out the source of the shine.

The hole became deeper. A great reflective stone, polished and melted like honey near the top, but rough and powerful at the bottom.

"I shall call it .... Shinestone!"



Historians would call this the earliest ever recorded Surface Deposit of Shinestone.

Bronze as The Gods Intended

(Scientific Story: Land of the Sun)

And so the men of Ur came to harness the power of tin, and they often made their goods of that metal. Tin plates and Tin maces for their warriors, but it was not enough for them since tin is brittle and not a strong metal.

But copper flowed in from the new mines to the West, and these concerns were felt often in the palaces of the Merchant Kings.

"This Copper is fantastic," they would say, "And maybe with the proper combination of this copper and our tin we could build a metal with the strengths of both, but if the Zulappi gain control of the copper fields and uncover the magic of Bronze before we can figure it out then we may well have problems. Many of our people adhere already to their religion and with powerful weapons they will be able to overthrow the Merchant Kings with only a whisper."

So they pressed their scientists and metalworkers to combine the metals, they swore at such men as they struggled to do it, "MAKE IT HAPPEN!" they would shout.

But outside the walls the people cared not for these concerns, they worshiped the Stones and ignored their leaders. They had no taste for civil wars, but in their hearts they were a religious folk and devoted to the stones. In the Temple of Undershaman DeSatt they spent hours in silent meditation, making themselves like the stones.

And it was here that the fires burned the hottest. It was here that Tin and Copper were offered to the Stones as a sacrifice, and it was here that they melted together.

-

To: Zulappi
From: Land of the Sun

We would prefer to see you expand into Africa, but we are mostly concerned about the possibility of you expanding towards our rivers. You have your own rivers, we only wish to protect our own without concern of foreign influence in our affairs. You can understand?

Perhaps we could come to an agreement about Arabia if you would be willing to concede our claim to the Tigris and Euphrates. We are willing to send our warriors to assist you in African expansion if you would be willing to concede our northern claim.

We agree to your trade agreement and will be sending our Fragrances.

To: Zulappi
From: City of Peace

Yes, we would be glad to continue our trade agreement.

To the Lord Merchant King Ralpuss III.

The Headless Messenger had been asked to come down from his high horse and finally negociate.

That was not so easy. He cautiously dismounted and instructed that the beast should be taken outside.

"A messege from His Most Pious Excellency, Shaman the Shaman."

"Perhaps it is time that we discuss the elephant in the room. Please have it taken back to the zoo, I am done with it. STOP WRITING EVERYTHING I SAY, STOP. My newfound friend Merchant Oligarch Highguard Rallmoose III. I am willing to recognize your legitimate claim over the entirety of both of your Northern rivers, if you would be so kind as to send 2 Warriors to my lands, to assist me in various ongoing African campaigns. They might also act as Cultural observers, or perhaps permanent Ambassadors."


To the Tribes of the Seli

Halt your migration unto my border, in the Name of the Stones, impregnable and unmoving.

Hey,

Emperor Shifang and The Winter Codes (scientific)

The 5 Hanghui Masters knelt in the snow at the foot of the steps that lead up to the porch and the Emperor. They were terrified. For hours they had knelt there in the falling snow, heads down and silent. The only movement was their bodies shaking from the cold.

"I offered you wealth and power and you see fit to return these." Emperor Shifang motioned for the books that held the Dragon's Wisdom of the 5 industries to be thrown from the porch to snow around the five Masters. "These books are nothing but stories and rituals wrote in a code that my mother, Mistress Huifang would have trouble understanding." He moved to the edge of the porch opening his great red and black fur coat and placed his fists on his hips. "I am the Emperor!" He shouted down at the frightened men. "It never accrued to you that I wanted these books for my personal use!"

"My Emperor." Master Changpu of the Fur Hanghui weakly spoke, keeping his head down. "We created the codes to keep the knowledge secret from those that would steal them."

"How many know of this code?" The Emperor demanded moving a hand to stroke his well groomed beard.


ESmc01

Hey,

Eastern Hats and Dragon Shells. (Cultural)

Guoliang stood in the small wooden tower looking out at the icy waters of the Mie River and the quite winter landscape of the Great Kingdom of Shang. Here in the northeast was the border of the two great powers. From this point east, downriver to the sea, was claimed by the Shang. A grim smile came to his face. He had spent his life in the army of General Yongrui in the snowless lands of the south. He had made war in the mild weather winters and the muggy wet monsoon season. One thing was for sure he hated the cold.

"Soldier. Soldier you need a better hat." Called a little old lady in the language of Shang. She removed a large weaved basket from her back and set it in the snow.

"I have a fine hat." He removed his bronze plated leather cap and looked at it admiringly, teasing the old woman. "No finer hat could ever be found." He held it down over the railing to give her a better look.

"That is a good hat." She opened the basket and dug around looking for something. "But not for the task you are doing." She found what she was looking for and held up a woven conical hat. It was plated with thin strips of bronze. Turning it over to show him a furred lining and leather chinstrap.

"What makes that hat any better then one I am wearing?" Teasing the old woman by looking at his own hat with disgust.

"You stand guard watching with your eyes? She smiled tossing the hat to Guoliang as though it was as light as a flower. "This hat will keep the weather from your eyes."

Guoliang dropped his own helmet and awkwardly grabbed the tossed hat. It was heavier then he thought. He examined it. Tough leather cords were woven through the hats main body to hold the thin bronze plating to the top of the hat. The fur lining, which was longer in the back to keep the neck warm, was tied to the hat so it could be removed in warmer weather.

"How much would this cheap hat cost?" He said putting the new hat on his head and tying the chinstrap snugly. She was Shang and would be a crafty dealer.

"For a fine looking young soldier like you?" She called up studying Guoliang face. "Ten bronze sticks."

"Ten bronze sticks?" Guoliang knew that the Shang had not conquered the making of bronze yet and it was still used for trade by the merchants here in the east of the Dragon Empire. But he had something better and would pay her much more then the hat was worth. "For you my crafty old woman." He took out a small pouch and dropped its contents down to her waiting hand. "I'll give you four cowry shells."

"Thank you honorable soldier!" The old woman said happily bending to collecting the shells from the snowy ground. "This will keep my families stomachs full all winter."

Guoliang knew that her family was nonsense He smiled turning away from the exchange and look back across the river. He might hate the weather but he was rich. During the march south in the Southern War he had collected many shells for their beauty. A hobby. After the war and within a few years the beautiful, different sized, multi colored, shiny, somewhat egg shaped shells were the standard currency of the Dragon Empire. And his collection had made him rich and now a little warmer.




Gcm01

Hey,

Mistress Miyan & The Night Alley Meeting. (construction)

"Then we have a deal, Mistress Dongmei?" Mistress Miyan said through a broken toothed smile, pointing at the young woman's chest with a gnarled finger. "You will supply the workers for a push to finish this harbor before I die."

"And in return." Mistress Dongmei took a step back from what, to her, appeared to be a little, silk clad demon from a southern warlord's nightmare. "Fishing Clan Dongmei will have its headquarters located across from the newly planned Imperial residence."

The old woman turned her boney finger toward the second member of this clandestine meeting in the back alleys of Junjan. "Master Changpu you will provide a equal number of workers."

"In return." Master Changpu said without any fear. One shows no fear toward anything after having to deal with the Shifang the Dragon Emperor. "You will support the Fur Hanghui in its move north and four docks and shops."

Mistress Miyan motioned for them to leave. Mistress Dongmei turned quickly and set off. Her high based wooden sandals clopping into the night away from the little demon woman. Master Changpu turned limping slowly holding a small lantern to light his way. Soon he to disappeared into the night of the city.

"And then, there is you sneaky boy." Mistress Miyan slowly turned and pointed at a shadowy gate in at the back of some residence. The gate slowly opened and a cloaked figure stepped out into the street. "You must be careful. You never know who you might meet in such a quite place as this, nephew Zhiqiang."


MMp02

To: Zulappi
From: Land of the Sun

We are dispatching our warriors at once.

To: Zulappi
From: Warlord Hephus of the Seli Tribes

My people wander the deserts and plunder what we wish to plunder. We have no interest in migrating to your lands, and we cannot help it if the sheep we scatter to the wind flock towards the easy life in your decadent cities. If you try to bring this "civilization" of yours into our desert then we will plunder your people as well.

To Pharon the Farseer

The Headless Messenger spat at the feet of the Saturan Ambassador, as was customary of Satura-Zulappi diplomatic meetings. The Saturans long ago learned that no matter how much persuasion they tried, the Zulappi insisted that was how they greeted all emmisaries, Saturan or not.

"A messege from the most Cultured Foot-Spitter, His Pious Excellency, Shannon Shaman the Shaman.

"Why have you begun down-saying our Urns? Obviously your pathetic, inferiorly-named Potterscraft (Obviously plagiarized from the boy Potter who had first ritualized the Urn making industry in Zulappi) is inferior and pathetic. Our coffers brim from trade with the Land of the Sun, True Merchants All, nere a greedy one amongst them, while your Potterscraft has been rejected. Surely, take this as a sign [Instruct: Spit on his feet agai"--

"Oh,"

The Messenger spat at the Ambassador's feet.

"That you should halt your attempts at undercutting superior Zulappi Industries."

Click to expand...

To Shannon Shaman the Shaman

1) We are down-saying your Urns because they earn no urns about earning your keep to urn about the earnings of urn. So that my people can stop earning their urns to worship the earning of urns, and use clay urns to worship stone earns. That is why we downsay your Urns.
Besides, we expected to see this when you say Ritual Urns:

But instead, we see this:


2) You mean Potter of Satura? You know that your legend about Mr. Potter is false. One, Potter is not Hairy, he's Harry. Two, Zulappi people are not playful. It is impossible for a Zulappi person to be playful. Infact, it is impossible for any of the Aset-cultists I know about to be playful.

3) Since when are merchants not greedy? Oh, you're talking about Aset-Cultists. That is no trading, that is a giving of tribute by a helpless zombie, upon which you graciously return several ritual Urns upon the look at their pitiful faces.

4) It's been rejected because our Potterscraft are not designed with lewd ideas inherent to them.

Let me reveal how I learned of this great perfidious invention.

1) People worshipping the Stone work hard.
2) People who work hard are tired.
3) People who are tired cannot satisfy their wives.
4) Wives who are not satisfied cannot have kids.
5) But Aset-Cultists are still having kids.
6) But only those with Ritual Urns do.
7) Something about those Urns satisfy the wives.
8) Guess what, IT FITS INSIDE THEIR COIN POUCH!

Therefore, this lewd invention is made for the mere sake of inserting into the coin pouch. I shall hear no protestations that "they need to consecrate their marriage before an urn" or any such crap. You fondle these special Urns, sell them, and let tired men's wives have babies.

Of course, some nations do need to satisfy their wives. The Land of the Sun, for example, have many people who were once constantly fighting. Fighting makes you tired, and being tired means you can't satisfy your wife. Therefore, they need your Urns to do so.

You must know, the people of Satura are virile enough to have no need of your Urns, no matter how hard we work, because we worship the great Akten instead of the lowly and perfidious Aset. It is because we worship a creator, not a destroyer. It is because we worship one who is selfless, instead of one who is selfish. It is because we are honest, and we worship the Golden Sun with Gold by revering gold, while you worship the Stones with Clay by revering work.

Go, and take your insanely small weapon with you. No matter how much you try, we will make sure that you cannot and will not shrink ours in revenge.

Hey,

To: Chief Kar of Korea
From: Emperor Shifang of the Heavenly Dragon Empire

To strengthen our ties I would like to offer you Silks or Black Tea for 1 EP upfront payment.

To: The Empire of The Heavenly Dragon
From: Korea

It sounds like a fine deal, but is it some sort of trap? Why are you willing to export them so cheaply?

Hey,

To: Chief Kar of Korea
From: Emperor Shifang of the Heavenly Dragon Empire


I require wealth to build a fleet of vessels to explore the Sea of Sanji. Perhaps one day Korea will have goods to trade and will look at the Dragon Empire favorably.

To: The Empire of the Holy Dragon
From: The Chiefdom of Korea

I see now the power of your empire, fleets of ships you say? The stuff of legends. If you wished to destroy me it is clear that you would have no need of traps. It would be foolish of me to refuse your offer, and I am glad to accept. Please send silks... we are somewhat into clothing up here.

Hey,

Boat Builder Xu Gui and the Question of Northern Ships. (scientific)

"What can pole pushers teach us?" Xu Gui had laughed with the rest of the boat builders and sailors sent north to the Mie River. "How to keep our poles from getting stuck in the mud." He had said grabbing his manhood. He was a proud sailor of the open sea. A son of the Monsoon. What could river rats teach him of sailing. "The Fools."

"What can these pole pushers teach us?" A stunned Xu Gui said standing on shore of the Dragon's Lake in the great Capital city of Junjan. Hundreds of boats from single man to large wide fishing boats. Even a part of the Emperor's residence was floating on the holy lake.

"What can not these craftsmen teach us?" Said Xu Gui awed by the sight before his eyes. The huge boat. No, not a boat. A galley they called it. It was as wide as his family home and six as long as any boat he had seen. A long row of holes located on either side of the vessel would house short, long bladed paddles. On the bow a great craved dragon's head.

He stood below the massive ship in what the builder Cin Fu called a dry dock. The ship could be built and the dock flooded. Then the gates closed and the water removed to build or repair another vessel. There were many such dry docks here in the City Soo on the Mie River. He marveled at the workers molding thin heated bronze plate to the underside of the galley. Then attaching it with long bronze spikes were each plate overlapped.

"What is the idea for the bronze?" Xu Gui yelled up at Cin Fu who was looking at plans for the vessel on painted silk cloth. Painted silk cloth just amazing. "Would it not make the ship heavier?

"Yes, that is taken into the total weight of the ship. The thickness is kept at a constant minimum standard that is gauged by the size of the vessel." Master Shipbuilder Cin Fu could see the questioning look on the man's face. "The bigger the vessel the thicker the bronze, same amount of the overall ship's weight."

"I understand that." Xu Gui moved out of the way of a worker. "Why put bronze sheeting on in the first place?"

"It keeps down on hull repairs, my friend." Laughed Cin Fu, not wanting to go into the scientific details of how once the bronze turns green it stops eating itself and protects the ships lumber hulls from the rocky bottoms of the river, rapids and bugs.


SsCf01