Can I get some climate information for Waipio please?
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- Thread starter North King
- Start date
jeps
Arcadefire
I was all set for peace, and cuiv does that before I can do a story... Oh well. Pirates I can deal with, with my ironclads.
Story for liassa coming.
Story for liassa coming.
North King
blech
- Joined
- Jan 2, 2004
- Messages
- 18,165
Your cradle nation? It's located on a long, densely forested, somewhat rocky island. Rain is extremely plentiful, and small streams, bogs, and springs are abundant; of course soil can wash away, but well tended fields with plenty of anchoring roots tend to do very well here.
alex994
Hail Divine Emperor!
My Fine Family
“The Memoirs of Chen Yiming is a must read for anyone who wants to expand their knowledge and opinion on the conditions of Southwestern Karai from the eyes of a soldier who lived during the Second Imperial Crisis of the Yun Dynasty.”
My family is one of tens of thousands, no millions, of other families who farm the wealthy and fertile fields along the many rivers granted to our people since the beginning of time. I would be lying if I wrote that we were poor, it would have been a mark against my soul. No, we were well-off; my father was firmly a member of the gentry. According to our family tree, our first ancestor who settled here was a high ranking military officer under Emperor Andi, the restorer of the Yun Dynasty.
The vast tracts of land granted to him, said to have been 300 li in every direction, were mostly lost, gradually, through time and ill-management by so many of our less distinguished ancestors. Just three generations ago, my great-grandfather turned that around. Through intelligence, hard work and a hint of luck and chance, he restored the declining family fortunes though we still could not be compared to our founding ancestor. Grandfather as well as Father continued the trend, Father would be especially successful taking three wives.
I am the first son of the third wife, and as such I had a long line of older siblings before me, ignoring the fact that my mother had other children, all daughters before me. I had around 8 older siblings, 5 brothers and 3 sisters. In addition, I had three younger siblings were all boys but one. Let’s just say I didn’t get as much attention or material goods as most of my siblings with one small exception.
I was educated and could read and write. So could my two eldest brothers, but as one would inherit Father’s property and the other would go into the civil service, I wasn’t exactly sure why I was educated. Have I mentioned that Father hated seeing his sons idle? I think that was the reason I was sent off, too young to work on the land and too old to remain at home, I was sent with my two eldest brothers to the village teacher.
The village teacher was a retired official and the students, around 40 in number, were taught inside his relatively large house. Everyday, from mid-morning to dusk, with religious holidays and harvesting aside, we would be there reading and writing. I grew closer to my brothers despite the 7-8 years in our age difference. I can remember when I was but 5 winters old and recall my eldest brother leading me to school one day. It’s difficult for me to admit that I missed him.
My eldest brother has been long dead.
I still remember those fateful nights when the call went out for soldiers to join the Imperial Army. Our family was assumed by our neighbors to send at least one son considering the number of men in our household, grandfather excluded on the count of his old age. The choices were my three eldest brothers, with a preference on the third one going. He had no calling, no land to inherit or skill, it would have been better for him, for everyone if he had went. He didn’t go.
It wasn’t as much of my three eldest brothers not wanting to join the Imperial Army, it was more of the three fighting for who would get to go. They knew they could die or worse, but they refused to shirk from their duty, their duty to their Family, their duty to the Emperor. To surprise us all, my eldest brother, the one who was going to inherit, won that fight.
My eldest brother, that same man, a child no longer, would go fight spurning the life and path set in front of him by Father. I remember when I was barely 10 years old that my eldest brother went to serve in His Majesty’s Imperial Army. I can still see him now, years later, handsome and dashing, in his light dull green uniform with his shining musket with his short sword at his side. I remember as that was also the last time I saw him.
Four years came and went; we received semi-regular mail from my brother. Father would beam with so much pride and joy as the letters from our village’s soldiers would be read out loud, the more private and sensitive parts tacitly skipped or ignored. The letters stopped coming in the fourth year, the last letter we received spoke of his promotion to 队副 (Lieutenant), Father was just so happy. I could have sworn there was a tear of joy at the corner of his right eye.
After the letters stopped coming, we did not worry that much. An officer did not have as much free time as a recruit and there were news of numerous skirmishes and battles, it’s a bit difficult to write letters when bullets are whistling past you. In the fifth year since my brother had left, the courier who usually brought mail with him, specifically came to our home with a group of other official looking men.
They refused to sit or take any food but acquiesced to taking some wine. The mother of my eldest brother was visibly shaking as the courier solemnly informed our family that our son and brother was dead, killed by the Jin Bo rebels as he, along with many of his soldiers, stood their ground buying time with their deaths so that their comrades could safely retreat. There was a little solemn and serious ceremony as they presented to my parents, posthumously, a bronze medal with two crossed swords.
A week later, with the blessing of my family and the village elders, I enlisted in the His Imperial Majesty’s Armed Forces. Looking at myself in my mirror for one last time, I saw a confident young man looking back at me in the Emperor’s green with my musket at attention and my sword in the scabbard at my side. I swore that for a second I saw my brother in the reflection smiling at me. After saying farewells, I rode away from my home, and a distance away, I came to a stop and looked back at home for one more time.
I would honor my brother’s memory.
Thanks; four seasons or clothing optional? Washinton/Oregon, volcanic south Pacific/Indonesia, or Norway? I am envisioning vulcanic south Pacific/Indonesia for my cast of characters. Please please!**crosses fingers**
North King
blech
- Joined
- Jan 2, 2004
- Messages
- 18,165
It's rather warm. Maybe not tropical, but certainly humid subtropical.
YES!
Cuivienen
Deity
- Joined
- Nov 26, 2003
- Messages
- 8,011
Despite a disastrous first performance, most among the Captains and the Lords who have seen it agree that Ferriane’s most recent musical play, The Enchanted Cloak, is most wondrous entertainment of the highest sort. Ferriane had initially seemed in poor grace after The Enchanted Cloak opened to a series of mishaps in the High Fortune Theatre, but his spirits must have been greatly roused after receiving a standing ovation from Kiano Lianalla, no one less than the Captain of His Imperial Majesty’s flagship, and also the Lord Heröo, leader of the seventh Expedition to the Mournful Coasts.
The well-known and well-loved singer Jiola played the part of the lead, Lord Hulian. The well-known tale of a Berian lord driven to poverty and theft by a rapacious Alqazari moneylender and aided in his efforts by an enchanted cloak of invisibility was brought to life by Jiola’s beautiful voice. Jiola was able to achieve both the deep notes of sorrow and the high, almost crazed notes of Lord Hulian’s corruption by the cloak into a man of evil. He fit perfectly into the part crafted by Ferriane.
Ferriane Bonnal, now a lord in his own right by declaration of the Emperor following the debut of his last loved musical play, presents the tale in a new light, as described above. Rather than show Lord Hulian as the noble man robbed of all he holds dear and now desperately clinging to the titular enchanted cloak as a means to his salvation, Ferriane suggests the corruption of the human soul with his new production, inviting contemplation on the philosophical level. Is man so easily corrupted by things of great power? The retelling of the ancient story of Lord Hulian would seem to suggest that all should be aware of the treachery of enchanted cloaks, not their merits.
Suffice to say that Ferriane has once again awed all noble persons of Teleria with his work. The Emperor himself has requested a showing at the palace in the week to come, and his disapproval could still quash the play, but we will boldly state that the Emperor will undoubtedly be more than pleased by Ferriane’s latest efforts.
It's supposed to be kind of like a newspaper article. It didn't turn out as well as I'd hoped. A musical play is an opera, more or less, not a modern musical.
The well-known and well-loved singer Jiola played the part of the lead, Lord Hulian. The well-known tale of a Berian lord driven to poverty and theft by a rapacious Alqazari moneylender and aided in his efforts by an enchanted cloak of invisibility was brought to life by Jiola’s beautiful voice. Jiola was able to achieve both the deep notes of sorrow and the high, almost crazed notes of Lord Hulian’s corruption by the cloak into a man of evil. He fit perfectly into the part crafted by Ferriane.
Ferriane Bonnal, now a lord in his own right by declaration of the Emperor following the debut of his last loved musical play, presents the tale in a new light, as described above. Rather than show Lord Hulian as the noble man robbed of all he holds dear and now desperately clinging to the titular enchanted cloak as a means to his salvation, Ferriane suggests the corruption of the human soul with his new production, inviting contemplation on the philosophical level. Is man so easily corrupted by things of great power? The retelling of the ancient story of Lord Hulian would seem to suggest that all should be aware of the treachery of enchanted cloaks, not their merits.
Suffice to say that Ferriane has once again awed all noble persons of Teleria with his work. The Emperor himself has requested a showing at the palace in the week to come, and his disapproval could still quash the play, but we will boldly state that the Emperor will undoubtedly be more than pleased by Ferriane’s latest efforts.
It's supposed to be kind of like a newspaper article. It didn't turn out as well as I'd hoped. A musical play is an opera, more or less, not a modern musical.
Thlayli
Le Pétit Prince
Don't worry about it, Cuiv. Stories get better as time goes on, and the culture of a nation becomes more developed in the mind of their player. (Still, it wasn't a bad story anyway.)
I think that all dedicated players in PureNES will see their storywriting improve, too.
I think that all dedicated players in PureNES will see their storywriting improve, too.
Cuivienen
Deity
- Joined
- Nov 26, 2003
- Messages
- 8,011
I'm afraid I'm just not very good at writing about cultures in the post-medieval era. Oh well.
Could I get a bit more detail about Teleria's religion, both the theology (beyond simply worshipping a sea goddess) and its world influence? I assume it's also the main religion in Liassa, Hespiron, Beria, etc., but how far has it spread, if at all, in non-Telerian culture regions?
Could I get a bit more detail about Teleria's religion, both the theology (beyond simply worshipping a sea goddess) and its world influence? I assume it's also the main religion in Liassa, Hespiron, Beria, etc., but how far has it spread, if at all, in non-Telerian culture regions?
Thlayli
Le Pétit Prince
Well, Celia is the central goddess of your pantheon. She is the embodiment of the world's oceans, and the guardian of all Telerius. Under her are a myriad of other spirits and sub-deities, that have gradually faded in importance over the years. Important remaining ones, however, include Saphar, the god that controls storms, and Eleite, (Elle-ay-eet,) goddess of currents, and fertility, which includes fishing.
As for religious history, your faith was somewhat like Hinduism at first, with Telerian Polytheism (feel free to take a different name) absorbing all of the other water-cults that were predominant throughout Celia. A lot of smaller villages still have shrines to these smaller deities, and it's presumed that some are really the same spirit with different names.
In Telerius proper, its gained a small revival with the founding of the New Telerian Empire, but the rise of Princeps and the FLN (Federated Lands of Naia) have resulted in Seraphism and Atoni (a Shintoist-like faith from Hadato) gaining more adherents, specifically in the north, where Beria has been overrun. Outside of your empire, it's definitely declining.
EDIT: The political influence of ancient Telerius is much greater than the religious one. Elements of your culture can be found in all the nations of Celia, much of southern Qiankun, Sinara (whose peninsula is called Celian) and the general Princeps area. Similar to Rome, your most lasting achievements have been architectural and linguistic.
As for religious history, your faith was somewhat like Hinduism at first, with Telerian Polytheism (feel free to take a different name) absorbing all of the other water-cults that were predominant throughout Celia. A lot of smaller villages still have shrines to these smaller deities, and it's presumed that some are really the same spirit with different names.
In Telerius proper, its gained a small revival with the founding of the New Telerian Empire, but the rise of Princeps and the FLN (Federated Lands of Naia) have resulted in Seraphism and Atoni (a Shintoist-like faith from Hadato) gaining more adherents, specifically in the north, where Beria has been overrun. Outside of your empire, it's definitely declining.
EDIT: The political influence of ancient Telerius is much greater than the religious one. Elements of your culture can be found in all the nations of Celia, much of southern Qiankun, Sinara (whose peninsula is called Celian) and the general Princeps area. Similar to Rome, your most lasting achievements have been architectural and linguistic.
tuxedohamm
Disguised as crow.
Most interested in joining...and if i choose a land and write a good story about it I'm possibly in? As I understand...?
Thlayli
Le Pétit Prince
Yes, assuming it's a good, well thought out story. And not two paragraphs. 
Previous Story
Steven Hawkesbury
The brown-haired youth grunted as he pushed another heavy crate up on top of the stack. The rhythmic pounding of the engine at the far end of the ship seemed to egg him on. With a great push, he raised the box over the top. It teetered for a moment, and Steven just managed to begin an Athurian curse before it fell over the far side. He raced around the pile to pick up the fallen goods, only to find Azim, bent in prayer over a small candlelit shrine. The dark-skinned man murmured something, and extinguished the candles with a smooth, sweeping gesture.
"You'd better raise the boxes son." commented Azim without turning his head, "Captain won't be happy finding you with damaged merchandise."
"Er, yes. Okay."
Steven stooped down and began lifting it. Azim joined and pushed the box into place.
"What were you doing there?"
The man gave Steven an indecipherable look.
"I'm not sure you'd understand... Steven."
"I'm not dumb. I am fifteen."
"Age isn't intelligence. You're Seraphist, aren't you?"
"I'm not really... anything. My friends told me that it was all a bunch of, well..."
"Yes?"
"Um, balderdash. All the astronomers say that the moons are just big rocks way up there. In the sky."
Azim gave his young compatriot a small smile.
"Maybe I'll tell you some other time."
With that, he rose up and walked out of sight beyond the boxes. Steven noticed a worn-looking book under a raised box, and pulled it out. He flipped it open, but couldn't read it. He was not even that great a reader (though he constantly promised himself that he'd go to a school and learn), but could tell that the script was not Athurian, or even Metti. It was something different.
"Azim!" he shouted.
"Yes?" answered the now-distant voice.
"Where are you from?"
There was a brief silence.
"Why are you so curious- more than usual."
"Your book looks odd."
Azim quickly returned.
"Which book?" he asked, with a vaguely sharp tone.
"Th-that one."
Azim's face softened when he saw it back where he had left it.
"Ah... what do you know of the Alquazar Caliphate?"
"Didn't they attack Arios?"
"Well, Arios did the same. I was born there, but haven't returned for years."
"I would like to go there someday. The reason I joined this ship was to see the world."
"We all come for different reasons. You've got a lot ahead of you son."
"What do you mean by that-"
A voice from above suddenly interrupted their conversation.
"Oy! 'zeem! Hawkesbury! Cap'n needs some decks scrubbed!"
"But we just cleaned them last week!"
"I know, but... you know, Claidhe feet have been on it since then. You know Zruyk."
Azim rolled his eyes and got up, followed by Steven.
"Coming!"
The two waked over to the ladder and climbed up into the light.
Steven Hawkesbury
The brown-haired youth grunted as he pushed another heavy crate up on top of the stack. The rhythmic pounding of the engine at the far end of the ship seemed to egg him on. With a great push, he raised the box over the top. It teetered for a moment, and Steven just managed to begin an Athurian curse before it fell over the far side. He raced around the pile to pick up the fallen goods, only to find Azim, bent in prayer over a small candlelit shrine. The dark-skinned man murmured something, and extinguished the candles with a smooth, sweeping gesture.
"You'd better raise the boxes son." commented Azim without turning his head, "Captain won't be happy finding you with damaged merchandise."
"Er, yes. Okay."
Steven stooped down and began lifting it. Azim joined and pushed the box into place.
"What were you doing there?"
The man gave Steven an indecipherable look.
"I'm not sure you'd understand... Steven."
"I'm not dumb. I am fifteen."
"Age isn't intelligence. You're Seraphist, aren't you?"
"I'm not really... anything. My friends told me that it was all a bunch of, well..."
"Yes?"
"Um, balderdash. All the astronomers say that the moons are just big rocks way up there. In the sky."
Azim gave his young compatriot a small smile.
"Maybe I'll tell you some other time."
With that, he rose up and walked out of sight beyond the boxes. Steven noticed a worn-looking book under a raised box, and pulled it out. He flipped it open, but couldn't read it. He was not even that great a reader (though he constantly promised himself that he'd go to a school and learn), but could tell that the script was not Athurian, or even Metti. It was something different.
"Azim!" he shouted.
"Yes?" answered the now-distant voice.
"Where are you from?"
There was a brief silence.
"Why are you so curious- more than usual."
"Your book looks odd."
Azim quickly returned.
"Which book?" he asked, with a vaguely sharp tone.
"Th-that one."
Azim's face softened when he saw it back where he had left it.
"Ah... what do you know of the Alquazar Caliphate?"
"Didn't they attack Arios?"
"Well, Arios did the same. I was born there, but haven't returned for years."
"I would like to go there someday. The reason I joined this ship was to see the world."
"We all come for different reasons. You've got a lot ahead of you son."
"What do you mean by that-"
A voice from above suddenly interrupted their conversation.
"Oy! 'zeem! Hawkesbury! Cap'n needs some decks scrubbed!"
"But we just cleaned them last week!"
"I know, but... you know, Claidhe feet have been on it since then. You know Zruyk."
Azim rolled his eyes and got up, followed by Steven.
"Coming!"
The two waked over to the ladder and climbed up into the light.
tuxedohamm
Disguised as crow.
Can I get more info on Hadato? It appears to have the basic culture of Japan? It is mainland though, so any extra info about the Emperor and the warrior classes, basic climate, current economy and such 
If I am wrong about my assumptions I will think of some other story.
---------
Tsuyoiki Kainu held a sheet in his hand. It had come in that morning by a few soldiers belonging to the Emperor. They were not of warrior class. No, they were definately peasants. The Emperor had dressed the men up in nice uniforms and given them gun and sword, but Kainu could see the men were not warriors. Their muscles were not as well trained. From across the room, he could feel that the soldiers were not ready for action, yet they didn't have the calm aura of a seasoned and studied master bladesman. These men were peasants taken from the field, taught how to shoot a gun and take orders, and maybe how to do both while in combat.
Kainu read the letter:
Kainu looked back up at the soldiers. He thought of the room behind him where his son Meitori still slept. He was young, but was quickly learning everything Kainu could teach him. Meitori was already as good with the sword as Kainu was at his age and was learning to use a gun as well. Kainu had his own men who could teach knowledge to the boy. Some had taught Kainu when he was young. They were good teachers.
Kainu was tempted to kick these soldiers out of his home and forget the whole morning. He knew better. The emperor would be sending these letters all over the land. It wasn't just Meitori that the Emperor wanted. No. The Emperor wanted every clan leader, town leader, village leader to send someone to the Palace. It would act as protection for the Emperor. Kainu detested this, but he also knew that many of the other leaders would send their sons and if he didn't do the same, it would leave him up to a possible attack from the Emperor. Kainu would not risk all the families in his village for his own desire to not lose his son. He would capitulate and send his son to the Palace. He would however not let his son leave alone. Kainu would join his son at the Palace and judge for himself if his son's training would be decent.
Kainu decided they would leave midday the following day. He wanted to be one of the first to arrive as to not seem like a possible rebellion risk, but he would not arrive first and seem like a weak pawn of the Emperor either.
If I am wrong about my assumptions I will think of some other story.---------
Tsuyoiki Kainu held a sheet in his hand. It had come in that morning by a few soldiers belonging to the Emperor. They were not of warrior class. No, they were definately peasants. The Emperor had dressed the men up in nice uniforms and given them gun and sword, but Kainu could see the men were not warriors. Their muscles were not as well trained. From across the room, he could feel that the soldiers were not ready for action, yet they didn't have the calm aura of a seasoned and studied master bladesman. These men were peasants taken from the field, taught how to shoot a gun and take orders, and maybe how to do both while in combat.
Kainu read the letter:
Kainu looked back up at the soldiers. He thought of the room behind him where his son Meitori still slept. He was young, but was quickly learning everything Kainu could teach him. Meitori was already as good with the sword as Kainu was at his age and was learning to use a gun as well. Kainu had his own men who could teach knowledge to the boy. Some had taught Kainu when he was young. They were good teachers.
Kainu was tempted to kick these soldiers out of his home and forget the whole morning. He knew better. The emperor would be sending these letters all over the land. It wasn't just Meitori that the Emperor wanted. No. The Emperor wanted every clan leader, town leader, village leader to send someone to the Palace. It would act as protection for the Emperor. Kainu detested this, but he also knew that many of the other leaders would send their sons and if he didn't do the same, it would leave him up to a possible attack from the Emperor. Kainu would not risk all the families in his village for his own desire to not lose his son. He would capitulate and send his son to the Palace. He would however not let his son leave alone. Kainu would join his son at the Palace and judge for himself if his son's training would be decent.
Kainu decided they would leave midday the following day. He wanted to be one of the first to arrive as to not seem like a possible rebellion risk, but he would not arrive first and seem like a weak pawn of the Emperor either.
North King
blech
- Joined
- Jan 2, 2004
- Messages
- 18,165
Can I get more info on Hadato? It appears to have the basic culture of Japan? It is mainland though, so any extra info about the Emperor and the warrior classes, basic climate, current economy and such
Great story.
You're more or less right about your assumptions; it's pretty Japanese, only on the mainland, protected by the fact that it is a highly fractured, mountainous region, divided into many small valleys. The climate is somewhat different than Japan, though: considerably warmer throughout, and the north is rather dry, so some valleys are indeed deserts there.
human-slaughter
brand new year
Nation: Tevan (Tay-vhan)
People: Tevanii (Tay-vhan-knee)
Culture:
The Tevanii are a seafaring people they live off the ocean and their home island of Tekalii (Tay-khal-e). Their religion is of that of a elemental god who rules the waters. He is referred to as Tapi (Tah-pee), Ruler of the Sea.
Rise of a Nation
The Tevanii lived peacefully for as long as the elders had known. The fish was bountiful. The fruit always fresh and the clans were always in cohesion. It was as if there were no clans at all but I Tevanii clan. And, so it was for many years. Tapi the ruler of the sea brought bounty for his people and the people were grateful. The elders gave prayers and set out gifts on the tides for the great god and all was well.
One year however the fruit went bad and the seas grew rough. The elders were unaware of what the great god wanted or was doing. People were frantic. Food was scarce and the bounty of Tekalii was squandered under storms of Tapi. The clan anger was subtle at first. Arguments arose over land claim and food distribution. Finally violence erupted the 3 major clans of the island fought in the village and many Tevanii were killed. The “victorious” clan was that of the Ketans. They were more warlike then the rest and larger than the rest. The head of the clan claimed Chieftanship of the island. He forced the now smaller clans into exile. They were banished from the island of Tekalii and took refuge on the smaller islands surrounding it. The exiles began to organize they became their own clan. They wiped away the old lines and swore vengeance on the Ketans. The New Tevanii hid in the dense islands and silently over the course of two years made their plan.
2 years after the banishment of the New Tevanii from Tekalii a large storm rocked the island. Anarchy swarmed into the villages of the Ketans. The chief and his loyal friends and family were out by the docks when they saw lit by torchlight many canoes come through the mist of the waves. When the boats hit the shore yells of “FREEDOM FOR TEKALII!” and “FOR TAPI!” Erupted from the shore. By morning the chieftan was slain and the New Tevanii had taken back the city. And thus the new life for the Tevanii had arrived. Bound by the love for the ocean and a warrior spirit the nation of Tevan was born
foolish icarus
Shipwreck
The Singidu
Long, long ago, a people came to this part of the river. They called themselves the Singidu, Those Who Watch the Stone-Grey Fish. For all this time this river, the Dimini, the lands that surround it, called Cernica, and the ocean it flows into, called Beo, have nourished the Singidu. It is a long river, and The People have traversed much of its banks.
The section of the river where the Singidu have lived is fairly clear, and rarely floods much beyond its banks. Many of its tributaries are exceptionally clean, the visibility of their river rock bottoms and the water creatures that hide amongst them having given The People their name.
Far, far upstream up among some harsh range of terrible, stormy peaks, snow and rain feed the beginnings of the sweet Dimini. Down here where the Singidu make their homes, somewhere between those mountains and the endless, sunlit waves, the land is gentler and more fruitful.
Hills, most low, some high, lie here and there over the lands of Cernica. Forests of many varieties thrive in this temperate clime, as do meadows, grasslands, and scrub. Fish, beasts, and the fruits of plants were plentiful for The People to make use of.
Most years the Singidu have thrived in this place. They brought wisdom with them when they arrived here, things their ancestors learned in The Place Where The Birds Are Born. Wisdom about digging in the hills, and cooking metals and dirt in fires, and stretching hides, and bending wood and twisting grass or hair or leather. They discovered new wisdom living in this place, new dirt and metals to cook and mix, new ways to cut wood and fit it together. They taught and learned wisdom from other tribes in far off vales who came to Cernica before or after the Singidu themselves did. They were shown how to make animals do hard kinds of work, where delicious beasts came from and went to in changing seasons, which plants to put in the ground and when to gather their seeds and when to cut their stalks.
Those whose ancestors came from The Place Where The Birds Are Born had many homes along and near the Dimini. In winter they would cluster in their cold weather camps and eat from their larders and of the wintertime plants and animals they could acquire. In the warm seasons they roamed up and down and beyond the Dimini, sometimes all the way to the sea, or up to the flanks of the mountains from whence the Dimini and her tributaries flow, or even in other directions, far from the rock grey banks, out to the vales of other peoples, or the lands of the lakes, where the journeyers could point and say to each other, In that direction, far away, is The Place Where The Birds Are Born that our ancestors came from. In these warm seasons between travels they stopped at camps that were like the cold weather camps, or made new resting grounds in new places, and stayed for as long as they needed, days or weeks or even an entire season if the fish jumped well and the crops swayed high in the sun's fresh warm breezes.
The Singidu have long practiced religion, though the distinction between religion and the customs of daily life is hard to point out. They believe that the power of magic comes from sleep and dreams and takes shape upon one's mind, body, and perhaps even entire tribe through dance, song, paint, and masks. From the decorations that adorned their camps and bodies during their frequent festivities came their first logographic writing system, which a large proportion of average people had at least a rudimentary grasp of, due to its widespread use in everyday as well as ritual situations. Surviving cultural artifacts from this early period usually consist of small, portable items such as decorated pottery, masks, tablets, and hides, although some early carved wooden pillars still exist. Because creation of custom, literature, art, et al. was not restricted to any particular class but was practiced by all elements of society, there is an abundant diversity of material represented by surviving folklore, literature, ceremony, and artifacts.
The People knew how to work iron, though crudely, and rarely used this skill. Their working of bronze and brass and other alloys of bright copper has grown quite skilled and they have always preferred to make their sturdy and elegant tools and ornaments with this well-crafted material.
Relatively protected from any more than the occasional famine, epidemic, natural disaster, material shortage, or external violence, The People developed into a fruitful and capable society. They found uses for obscure new technologies and even began to engage in indirect trade with far off civilizations by way of their more connected neighbors. They governed themselves with Band Leaders and a proto-senate council of distinguished persons selected by popular, though not numerical, approval. They approved of hospitality, vigor, courtesy, wit, friendly competition and displays of impressive feats, and disapproved of greed, sloth, scorn, resentment, and cruelty. Sometimes the gods were kind to them, sometimes they were unforgiving, but they saw no hidden meanings in their fates, only the need to sometimes make the best of bad events and other times to be clever and apply themselves so as to make more good things follow.
Generations of almost uninterrupted peace came to a close when the Invaders (literally, Hunters of Men) offered their poisoned embrace to the lands of Cernica. They did not eat horses or use them to plow the earth. They rode atop them into the land of lakes and the vales and finally the valleys and hills of the Dimini among the Singidu to throw torches and spears into the people who, until just then, had contented themselves with watching the rock-grey fish.
The People were new to the ways of war. They were not ignorant of the ways of nature; they knew they were prey, and their persons and possessions were the flesh that those that would hunt them wished to consume. They knew what prey must do to win its life from the slender, red-tipped claws of its predator.
The Singidu ran as fast and as far as they could while the Invaders filled up their bellies and their bags and their cruel lusts with the loot torn out of a scattered riverside people. The People washed their hands with their tears and stood up straight on their toes upon the hard earth. One of the Leaders of The People drew out his pouch and let his hand clench the hot, dusty remains of his home and kin. The People became warriors, those who hunted the hunters, and they were called The Lips Burnt Black, for when they prepared to fight they smeared their mouths with ashes still warm.
The Singidu took their nets and their snares and their arrows and spears and notched blades and turned them away from the rabbits and poultry and antelope and they turned them against those men who rode their horses in order to hunt men. They turned their eyes and their minds and instincts and their grim unparted blackened mouths against the Invaders who thought to make game of the riverlanders.
In the hills and valleys of Cernica the Invaders began to know fear of the men and women they had though were soft. The ghosts of these forests could not be dissuaded from having their vengeance. The Invaders soon decided to take their horses and ride away to lands where they hoped they would find easier pickings.
Our people who had once watched the fish began to build their tools and homes anew, with walls and warriors to guard them. Their neighbors from the vales soon felt the affliction of the Invaders' hooves and sent messengers asking for the aid of those who had shed blood to send the Invaders away. The Singidu looked to each other and said, We did not ask the Invaders to be our enemies, yet they became our enemies. Surely, then, if these or any other people ask in earnestness to be our friends, we must become their friends?
The Invaders were driven far away, and the Singidu and their neighbors had learned of cause to build strong walls and keep firm hold on bent bows and fire hardened spears and maintain alliances as peoples of the same heart. Indeed, the Singidu and their neighbors grew very close, upon seeing the lay of the outside world and just how similar they really were. On calm days, when the wind blew sweet and watchful faces said all is safe, all the people of Cernica could sit together and watch the fish.
Ah, but how long can any people ignore the wandering eyes of another before ruin greets them? Each tribe of wide Cernica, Singidu and others, though their strength made them safe and powerful, but only one was really correct: The Mainyu, numerous men with numerous vassals and slaves, followed the will of their creator and guardian in the heavens Djanggawul and sought to exercise their inborn right to hold dominion over the earth. Within a short time only a few remained outside their conquests.
Just as the Singidu and the last few other tribes were about to fall into the chains of the Mainyu, Djanggawul ceased smiling upon his people. Pestilence and famine took the lands. True, the Singidu and their ragtag allies were blighted as well, but the Mainyu were hardest hit, and their empire disintegrated faster than it had risen. Even after the Mainyu threat subsided, the famine times went on and the Singidu, already lessened by war and hunger and disease, were further divided by their choices of what hardships they would endure. Some would stay in their battered, near-deserted ancestral villages, but many, perhaps most, decided that the time had come to find new homes once again, and a great mass of people set itself in motion.
Where will they go? Can any land match this part of Cernica, even in its times of desolation? If they follow the river, can any respite await them? Can there even be a Singidu people without the sweet waters of the Dimini to peer into? Perhaps, perhaps, be it at the roots of earth or the roots of water, a new shelter can be found.
Long, long ago, a people came to this part of the river. They called themselves the Singidu, Those Who Watch the Stone-Grey Fish. For all this time this river, the Dimini, the lands that surround it, called Cernica, and the ocean it flows into, called Beo, have nourished the Singidu. It is a long river, and The People have traversed much of its banks.
The section of the river where the Singidu have lived is fairly clear, and rarely floods much beyond its banks. Many of its tributaries are exceptionally clean, the visibility of their river rock bottoms and the water creatures that hide amongst them having given The People their name.
Far, far upstream up among some harsh range of terrible, stormy peaks, snow and rain feed the beginnings of the sweet Dimini. Down here where the Singidu make their homes, somewhere between those mountains and the endless, sunlit waves, the land is gentler and more fruitful.
Hills, most low, some high, lie here and there over the lands of Cernica. Forests of many varieties thrive in this temperate clime, as do meadows, grasslands, and scrub. Fish, beasts, and the fruits of plants were plentiful for The People to make use of.
Most years the Singidu have thrived in this place. They brought wisdom with them when they arrived here, things their ancestors learned in The Place Where The Birds Are Born. Wisdom about digging in the hills, and cooking metals and dirt in fires, and stretching hides, and bending wood and twisting grass or hair or leather. They discovered new wisdom living in this place, new dirt and metals to cook and mix, new ways to cut wood and fit it together. They taught and learned wisdom from other tribes in far off vales who came to Cernica before or after the Singidu themselves did. They were shown how to make animals do hard kinds of work, where delicious beasts came from and went to in changing seasons, which plants to put in the ground and when to gather their seeds and when to cut their stalks.
Those whose ancestors came from The Place Where The Birds Are Born had many homes along and near the Dimini. In winter they would cluster in their cold weather camps and eat from their larders and of the wintertime plants and animals they could acquire. In the warm seasons they roamed up and down and beyond the Dimini, sometimes all the way to the sea, or up to the flanks of the mountains from whence the Dimini and her tributaries flow, or even in other directions, far from the rock grey banks, out to the vales of other peoples, or the lands of the lakes, where the journeyers could point and say to each other, In that direction, far away, is The Place Where The Birds Are Born that our ancestors came from. In these warm seasons between travels they stopped at camps that were like the cold weather camps, or made new resting grounds in new places, and stayed for as long as they needed, days or weeks or even an entire season if the fish jumped well and the crops swayed high in the sun's fresh warm breezes.
The Singidu have long practiced religion, though the distinction between religion and the customs of daily life is hard to point out. They believe that the power of magic comes from sleep and dreams and takes shape upon one's mind, body, and perhaps even entire tribe through dance, song, paint, and masks. From the decorations that adorned their camps and bodies during their frequent festivities came their first logographic writing system, which a large proportion of average people had at least a rudimentary grasp of, due to its widespread use in everyday as well as ritual situations. Surviving cultural artifacts from this early period usually consist of small, portable items such as decorated pottery, masks, tablets, and hides, although some early carved wooden pillars still exist. Because creation of custom, literature, art, et al. was not restricted to any particular class but was practiced by all elements of society, there is an abundant diversity of material represented by surviving folklore, literature, ceremony, and artifacts.
The People knew how to work iron, though crudely, and rarely used this skill. Their working of bronze and brass and other alloys of bright copper has grown quite skilled and they have always preferred to make their sturdy and elegant tools and ornaments with this well-crafted material.
Relatively protected from any more than the occasional famine, epidemic, natural disaster, material shortage, or external violence, The People developed into a fruitful and capable society. They found uses for obscure new technologies and even began to engage in indirect trade with far off civilizations by way of their more connected neighbors. They governed themselves with Band Leaders and a proto-senate council of distinguished persons selected by popular, though not numerical, approval. They approved of hospitality, vigor, courtesy, wit, friendly competition and displays of impressive feats, and disapproved of greed, sloth, scorn, resentment, and cruelty. Sometimes the gods were kind to them, sometimes they were unforgiving, but they saw no hidden meanings in their fates, only the need to sometimes make the best of bad events and other times to be clever and apply themselves so as to make more good things follow.
Generations of almost uninterrupted peace came to a close when the Invaders (literally, Hunters of Men) offered their poisoned embrace to the lands of Cernica. They did not eat horses or use them to plow the earth. They rode atop them into the land of lakes and the vales and finally the valleys and hills of the Dimini among the Singidu to throw torches and spears into the people who, until just then, had contented themselves with watching the rock-grey fish.
The People were new to the ways of war. They were not ignorant of the ways of nature; they knew they were prey, and their persons and possessions were the flesh that those that would hunt them wished to consume. They knew what prey must do to win its life from the slender, red-tipped claws of its predator.
The Singidu ran as fast and as far as they could while the Invaders filled up their bellies and their bags and their cruel lusts with the loot torn out of a scattered riverside people. The People washed their hands with their tears and stood up straight on their toes upon the hard earth. One of the Leaders of The People drew out his pouch and let his hand clench the hot, dusty remains of his home and kin. The People became warriors, those who hunted the hunters, and they were called The Lips Burnt Black, for when they prepared to fight they smeared their mouths with ashes still warm.
The Singidu took their nets and their snares and their arrows and spears and notched blades and turned them away from the rabbits and poultry and antelope and they turned them against those men who rode their horses in order to hunt men. They turned their eyes and their minds and instincts and their grim unparted blackened mouths against the Invaders who thought to make game of the riverlanders.
In the hills and valleys of Cernica the Invaders began to know fear of the men and women they had though were soft. The ghosts of these forests could not be dissuaded from having their vengeance. The Invaders soon decided to take their horses and ride away to lands where they hoped they would find easier pickings.
Our people who had once watched the fish began to build their tools and homes anew, with walls and warriors to guard them. Their neighbors from the vales soon felt the affliction of the Invaders' hooves and sent messengers asking for the aid of those who had shed blood to send the Invaders away. The Singidu looked to each other and said, We did not ask the Invaders to be our enemies, yet they became our enemies. Surely, then, if these or any other people ask in earnestness to be our friends, we must become their friends?
The Invaders were driven far away, and the Singidu and their neighbors had learned of cause to build strong walls and keep firm hold on bent bows and fire hardened spears and maintain alliances as peoples of the same heart. Indeed, the Singidu and their neighbors grew very close, upon seeing the lay of the outside world and just how similar they really were. On calm days, when the wind blew sweet and watchful faces said all is safe, all the people of Cernica could sit together and watch the fish.
Ah, but how long can any people ignore the wandering eyes of another before ruin greets them? Each tribe of wide Cernica, Singidu and others, though their strength made them safe and powerful, but only one was really correct: The Mainyu, numerous men with numerous vassals and slaves, followed the will of their creator and guardian in the heavens Djanggawul and sought to exercise their inborn right to hold dominion over the earth. Within a short time only a few remained outside their conquests.
Just as the Singidu and the last few other tribes were about to fall into the chains of the Mainyu, Djanggawul ceased smiling upon his people. Pestilence and famine took the lands. True, the Singidu and their ragtag allies were blighted as well, but the Mainyu were hardest hit, and their empire disintegrated faster than it had risen. Even after the Mainyu threat subsided, the famine times went on and the Singidu, already lessened by war and hunger and disease, were further divided by their choices of what hardships they would endure. Some would stay in their battered, near-deserted ancestral villages, but many, perhaps most, decided that the time had come to find new homes once again, and a great mass of people set itself in motion.
Where will they go? Can any land match this part of Cernica, even in its times of desolation? If they follow the river, can any respite await them? Can there even be a Singidu people without the sweet waters of the Dimini to peer into? Perhaps, perhaps, be it at the roots of earth or the roots of water, a new shelter can be found.
Thlayli
Le Pétit Prince
The nation descriptions are now fully finished and added as of ten minutes from this post.
We just have a few more tasks to complete before the launch of the main NES threads, including a final draft of the rulesets, some religion descriptions that a certain someone has been endlessly bugging me about, () and a complete timeline of the history of Arios...which will probably have to be extended to the rest of the civilized world. (*insert appropriate expletive here*)
Still, there are two of us working on all this, so we're on track for a launch in the next 3 days or so. Start writing those stories. We're committed to a weekly schedule for orders and updates, and we plan on sticking to that.
EDIT: Oh, and nice story Icarus.
EDIT2: Iggy, HS, I liked yours too. We're still looking for a lot of major powers here, but I suppose many people are waiting for the official threads to write a story...fair enough.
We just have a few more tasks to complete before the launch of the main NES threads, including a final draft of the rulesets, some religion descriptions that a certain someone has been endlessly bugging me about, (
) and a complete timeline of the history of Arios...which will probably have to be extended to the rest of the civilized world. (*insert appropriate expletive here*)Still, there are two of us working on all this, so we're on track for a launch in the next 3 days or so. Start writing those stories. We're committed to a weekly schedule for orders and updates, and we plan on sticking to that.
Spoiler Updated Claims Information :
EDIT: Oh, and nice story Icarus.
EDIT2: Iggy, HS, I liked yours too. We're still looking for a lot of major powers here, but I suppose many people are waiting for the official threads to write a story...fair enough.
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